Hissssss

[prideplus]

Which of these is an acceptable mascot for pride?

Frogs, duh

A seahorse, of course

Possums! Yelling!

A very hungry caterpillar

One of those funky little sea slugs

Horseshoe crabs

The noble dachshund

Snake

Clowns

🐀

Voting ended onJun 23, 2023

[s3when]

here’s a brief summary of MBAV for anyone who never watched

[milbethmorillo]

Hey there :D wanted to draw something for spring(Which btw I'm experiencing for the first time in my life!!! so exciting!!!) and little Ivar with Daffodils popped up, and after that had to draw hvitserk of course xD so yeah I'm pretty much gonna be drawing all ragnarsons with spring flowers.

You can get 'em here btw

Get spring Ivar

Get Spring Hvitserk

[elfdyke]

im sick to death of the girlboss phenomenom. appreciate strugglewomen or we'll never get anything done around here

[elfdyke]

no more "she has the only braincell of the group". i want more women who fail at tasks that are unimaginable to fail at. we need more pathetic wet meow meows who are women. literally open your heart to strugglewomen because theyre all we have left in this fucked up world

[whitepeopletwitter]

[ironynoticony]

#genius

[millennial-review-deactivated20]

[barnes-lothbrok]

Just can't wait to be king

Ivar x reader

Summary- Ivar is bored on a rainy day. Based on the Lion King song

Warnings- fluff

A/n - I saw the photo and the song popped into my head. I don't know what this is just an odd thought moment. Sorry if everyone seems ooc

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

While Ivar sat on the throne that was his father's, the legendary Ragnar Lothbrok. You sat on his mother's throne beside him. Outside the sky was open, washing away any chance of being outside that day. Aslaug worried Ivar would catch a fever if he was out in the rain.

It meant finding entertainment inside and there wasn't a huge amount to do. Ubbe had been left to care for you and his brothers.

"I'm gonna be a mighty king," Ivar announced to you as he looked out over the hall.

"So enemies beware" he glared at Sigurd who was minding his own business playing a board game with Ubbe.

"Well, I've never seen a king or beast," Sigurd retaliated. "With quite so little hair"

Ivar held his head high "I'm gonna be the main event like no king was before" He looked down on Sigurd "I'm brushing up on looking down and I'm working on my battle cry"

He roared, his face scrunching as he tried the loudest cry he could. It was impressive until it cracked causing his brothers to laugh and you to hide a giggle.

"Thus far, a rather uninspiring thing" Sigurd teased as Ivar cleared his throat.

"Oh, I just can't wait to be king," he gritted his teeth.

"You've rather a long way to go, young Ivar if you think-" Ubbe piped up as it was clear with four older brothers Ivar was far down the line to actually becoming king.

"No one saying, "do this" Ivar mocked Ubbe's tone from earlier as he cut him off. He had reminded the pair of you that the thrones weren't play things.

"Now when I said that, I" Ubbe tried to defend himself.

"No one saying, "be there" you joined in with the mocking, cause Ivar to smile at you

"What I meant was-" Ubbe gave you a disapproving look as he tried to reason.

"No one saying, "stop that" Ivar continued with a smirk.

"Look, what you don't realize" Ubbe sighed, clearly fed up with the childishness.

"No one saying, "see here" You grinned cheekily as Hvitserk and Sigurd laughed.

Ubbe had a habit of using the phrase when scolding his younger siblings and you.

"Now see here!" Ubbe raised his voice, making you and Ivar beam with mischief.

"I'll be free to run around all day" you smiled as you were tired of being told what to do, how to be a young woman, constantly reminded that one day you would be married.

"Well, that's definitely out of the question" Ubbe frowned at you.

"I'll be free to do it all my way" Ivar grinned, he hated the rules in his life, although most were for his own safety.

"I think it's time that you stop this" Ubbe sighed.

"Kings don't need advice, from older brother's for a start" you smiled at Ivar as you lent over to him.

"If this ever happens count me out" Hvitserk laughed. The thought of you and Ivar as king and queen was an interesting one. "Out of service, out of Kattagat, I wouldn't hang about"

"These children are getting wildly out of wing" Sigurd shook his head.

"Oh, I just can't wait to be king," Ivar repeated.

"Everybody look left" All you did and became confused as what he was pointing out.

"Everybody look right" again you all followed but nothing was there.

"Everywhere you look I'm sitting' in the spotlight" Ivar smiled before you hit his shoulder with a laugh.

"In your dreams!" Hvitserk teased

"Let everybody sing. It's gonna be King Ivar's finest fling" He grinned and opened his arms to a non existent audience.

"Oh, I just can't wait to be king!" He yelled happily. You laughed and smiled at him while his brothers thought he'd gone mad.

[eatpussypraylove]

Sometimes as a woman it’s important for you to wake up late and be alone in the house on a cloudy cold day with your feelings.

[ironynoticony]

The moon is hiding while she changes into her Autumn dress.

[ironynoticony]

[aurumacadicus]

The kids on TikTok think that just because he was a classic country singer, Johnny Cash was conservative??? My babies he covered a Nine Inch Nails song in his seventies.

Classic country singers (the majority of which came from poor roots) were always talking about how much The Man sucked because they were taking money from poor rural folk. You’re gonna tell me that’s conservative?? Get outta here.

[aurumacadicus]

And somehow on the opposite side of the scale with the same exact opinion the conservative kids say “I like the old country music, because there’s no politics to it” Woodie Guthrie’s got a “this machine kills fascists” sticker on his guitar? You think there’s no politics in 9 to 5 or Folsom Prison Blues?!

[podracer]

Woodie Guthrie is the origin of "this machine kills fascists"

[ironynoticony]

Fun fact- My great grandpa rode the rails with Guthrie. Long line of Fuck Authority in this family.

[jadelynlace]

Bar Bathroom⎮Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

→ more Ink Drinker here.

author’s note: This small little smut-fest was inspired by a recent TikTok that I saw and promptly shared with @ivarsgard​ to which, a whole conversation unfolded. I love you, bitch. We’re back, yet again, to another time on the Ink Drinker timeline where you two were still not out, but everyone knew.

content warnings: smut, drunk girls in the bathroom who become your best friend for all of ten seconds, Ivar trying to keep it in his pants, Ivar helping you get dressed, not being as sneaky as you think…

Ivar helps you dress that night; as you place yourself on his lap, pulling your hair from your shoulder you feel the brief blow of the last of his cigarette through your hair. Warm fingers pull up the zipper on your dress, and even warmer lips press delicately against your shoulder blade as Ivar takes the hair tie from his wrist to tie your hair up.

Keep reading

[bragisrunes-deactivated20221025]

Cat Boyfriend

anonymous asked: So many hc of cat ivar. can you tell me what you think what colour Ivar's toe beans are as a cat? i find them so cute, could you do a fic please?

Notes: Fluffy with a hint of crack. I wasn't sure if you wanted him as a catboy or as a straight up cat lol. ps, here's what I think cat!Ivar's toebeans look like:

Find my Vikings oneshot masterpost here.

Tag list for fics: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics (feel free to reply to this post or send an ask if you want to be added.)

It had been meant as a prank. The witch had assured Sigurd that the spell would do nothing more than make Ivar look a little silly for the day, but instead it had done something quite different and four days later, he was still hiding in his room as his older brothers scrambled to find a solution.

In those days, you hadn't seen hide nor hair of Ivar, a fact that made you quite concerned. Ivar was a territorial boyfriend, he clung to your side most days and followed you around as if he feared that you'd leave him if he wasn't always there. So when multiple days had passed by without him coming around, you had marched yourself over to see him and pushed past his brothers to get into the room.

Ivar laid on his bed in a pile of furs and as you walked into the room, the base of his long grey tail shook in the way a cat's does when they're happy. And then a second later it registers to him what you're seeing, his tail puffs up and he yanks furs over himself and over his head.

Beneath them you can still make out the outline of his tail as it swishes back and forth under his covers and the tips of his ears poking out of the furs.

"Why is Ivar part cat?" You turn around to face his brothers as you hear him groan from under the covers.

In a mix of shouting and interrupting each other, Aslaug's sons explain that the witch's spell had turned him into a cat-boy (for better lack of words) and that the witch had split and couldn't be found, so they didn't know how to fix it.

You looked over to Ivar's bed and found him peeking out from under his furs. The pupils of his blue eyes were now slits and admittedly, you found him extra cute like this. Walking over, you sit down on the edge of his bed and he pulls the furs down a little more. It's obvious that this is embarrassing for him, he already feels different from everyone else on a regular basis, adding to it doesn't do anything but make him feel worse.

You reach out a hand and thread your fingers through his hair, scratching gently along his scalp. A deep, rumbling comes from Ivar's chest, surprising everyone with the sound of his purrs. Sigurd snorts and Ivar immediately bats your hand away and stops purring.

"Maybe Floki would have an idea what to do," you say, looking from Ivar to his brothers.

"I don't want Floki knowing about this!" Ivar's ears flatten against his head and his tail thumps against the bed twice, a clear sign of his annoyance.

In a way, it was nice having such physical signs of his emotions. He was so good at hiding what he felt that sometimes you struggled to figure him out. Like this, his body betrayed the feelings that he would otherwise hide from everyone in the room.

"Y/N is right," chimes in Ubbe, always the voice of reason amongst his brothers. You wonder if Ubbe had ever gotten to have a childhood or if he'd thrown away childish things the day Ragnar vanished and never looked back. He stepped into the role of a father figure for his little brothers when he still needed one too. "If anyone would know what to do about this, it would be Floki."

The three older sons of Aslaug start shuffling out of the room, going off in search of the boat builder. As Sigurd and Hvitserk follow Ubbe, much like ducklings follow their mother, you hear Sigurd whisper at Hvitserk.

"Hey if they fuck while we're gone, do you think he'll yowl like a cat in heat? What if his prick is barb-" the comment is cut off when the door shuts behind them and you and Ivar share a mutual look of horror at the thought.

Ivar leans back against his pillows, looking grumpy and blushing at the comments made about his body. Once again, you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. His eyes close and the purring restarts. Laying your free hand on his chest, you feel the way it vibrates with his purrs.

"I think I'm going to be disappointed when you go back to normal," you joke.

Ivar's eyes pop open again, his pupils no longer slits. "I don't want to be a cat," he grumbles as you kick your shoes off and snuggle against him in bed.

His body feels warmer than it normally is and as soon as you snuggle up against him, he rubs his cheek against yours. Ivar's tail winds itself between your legs and he's almost squishing you with his body after a moment. Cats like to cuddle, a fact you had learned long ago that proves true with Ivar.

You kiss Ivar's cheeks and his nose and the purring once again resumes.

Floki shows up a few hours later with Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd in tow. "Don't worry Ivar, you'll be back to being a little shit soon enough." the words are said with paternal affection and Ivar grins. Floki's the only person who gets away with talking to Ivar like that.

You roll off the bed to give Floki room to do his own magic, and go stand by Sigurd and Hvitserk.

"Did you two fuck? What was it like?" Sigurd leans towards you, whispering. Instead of answering, you smack him in the arm.

A few days later when Ivar is back to his regular, grumpy and non cat self, you and he sit on the bank of a lake, watching Sigurd and Ubbe fish. The sound of howling comes from the woods behind you and you look over your shoulder just as Hvitserk bursts out of the woods.

Two, floppy puppy ears sit atop his head and a little tail wags excitedly behind him. "Guys, the witch is back."

[blackseapearl-deactivated202209]

Vikings Fic: Roses in December - Chapter One   ||   modern!Ivar x OFC

A modern Vikings AU

modern!Ivar x OFC

Summary: Ivar Ragnarsson is a disposalist. His life is quiet, calm and controlled; working for his family, he takes care of the dirtier parts of their business without complaint. Sometimes, he might even enjoy it. But when a blast from the past collides with his work in the worst possible way, his life gets turned upside down.

Notes: Title from the JM Barrie quote - “God gave us memory so we may have roses in December”. This is based around the prompt fic written for @istorkyou​ “Ivar + Cobbled Steets”. That forms chapter two of this fic, albeit in edited form. Thanks so much for breaking my brain, wifey. I hate you. I really don’t, promise. Beta read by @serasvictoria​ - thank you, gorgeous love. You are a precious gift. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Tag team: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @youbloodymadgenius @serasvictoria @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @teishalicious @heavenly1927 @oldglitterstory @pomegranates-and-blood  @ivarsgard @lordsexmachine @quietborderline @xbellaxcarolinax @aprilivar  @carlandonorri-s @theanxietyqueen17 @illyrianhighfaerie @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @onyxskeleton29 @katfett @grimeundglow @beware-thecrow  @zuxiezendler @southernbe @love-all-things-writing @a5hl3y5ibley​ @alicedopey @oddsnendsfanfics @ecarroll1978​ @ritual-unions-gotme @mrsalwayswrite @peaceisadirtyword @revolution-starter​ @peachyboneless​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ @istorkyou​ @youbelongeverywhere​ @that-virgo-witch​ @ivarhoegh​ @ironynoticony​

Please message me or ask if you would like to be tagged or if you’d like to be taken off  

CHAPTER ONE

Parikia, Island of Paros, Cyclades, Greece August 15th, 2008

The crowd’s been at it for two days now. Holed up in the sandy coloured stone church they stood and sat, squeezed in, shoulder to shoulder, the smell of incense rising into the air, gathering in a haze above their heads until the salty sea breeze sweeps in to move it out into the open air, making way for the next cloud. The sway of bodies feels like whiplash and the ringing of bells cuts through the early evening to send the lengthening shadows fleeing for the safety of darkness. 

This makes no sense to her.

The liturgy drones on and on, the swell of voices singing praise to the Holy Mother, and though she greets the sight of the statue of her with the required ‘Hail Mary, full of grace’, she feels no clench in her chest, no swelling in her throat, no fervent need to supplicate herself for redemption before the woman they call The Mother of Our Lord; she grasps her father’s hand and follows him out the door of the church, moved seemingly not by her feet but by the current of people around them. 

Keep reading

[ironynoticony]

Can't wait for the next chapter!

[insaneoldme]

I don't think fic writers know how much they matter

Do you know how many times you distracted me when I was hurt or lonely? Do you know how many times a line or a scene from fanfic marked me so much that I remembered years later, even though I can’t recall my own phone number? 

Even if the fic isn’t perfect or popular or multi-chaptered… Sometimes there’s just one sentence that changed me.

You, miles and miles away, changed me.

[yuugisbarber]

There’s fanfiction…. And then there’s FANFICTION. The kind of shit you happen upon at like 3am or some other ungodly time because you were trying to find a fix for ur fixation at the time and you are just SUCKED IN and every sentence feels like a line of cocaine and it has quotes and imagery that permeate your brain and it’s the shit that sticks around in your consciousness forever and it never goes away and it’s always going to be one of Those Fics.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I keep hate-reading plague literature from the medieval era, but as depressed as it makes me there is always one historical tidbit that makes me feel a little bittersweet and I like to revisit it. That’s the story of the village of Eyam.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Eyam today is a teeny tiny town of less than a thousand people. It has barely grown since 1665 when its population was around 800.

Where the story starts with Eyam is that in August 1665 the village tailor and his assistant discovered that a bolt of cloth that they had bought from London was infested with rat fleas. A few days later on September 7th the tailor’s assistant George Viccars died from plague.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Back then people didn’t fully understand how disease spread, but they knew in a basic sense that it did spread and that the spread had something to do with the movement of people.

So two religios leaders in the town, Thomas Stanley and William Mompesson, got together and came up with a plan. They would put the entire village of Eyam under quarantine. And they did. For over a year nobody went in and nobody went out.

They put up signs on the edge of town as warning and left money in vinegar filled basins that people from out of town would leave food and supplies by.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Over the 14 months that Eyam was in quarantine 260 out of the 800 residents died of plague. The death toll was high, the cost was great.

However, they did successfully prevent the disease from spreading to the nearby town of Sheffield, even then a much bigger town, and likely saved the lives of thousands of people in the north of England through their sacrifice.

So I really like this story, because it’s a sad story, because it’s also a beautiful story. Instead of fleeing everyone in this one place agreed that they would stay, and they saved thousands of people. They stayed just to save others and I guess it’s one of those good stories about how people have always been people, for better or worse.

[auroranibley]

It gets better.

Here’s the thing. One third of the residents of Eyam died during their quarantine, but the Black Plague was known to have a NINETY PERCENT death rate. As high as the toll was, it wasn’t as high as it should have been. And a few hundred years later, some historians and doctors got to wondering why.

Fortunately, Eyam is one of those wonderful places that really hasn’t changed much in hundreds of years. Researchers, going to visit, found that many of the current residents were direct descendants of the plague survivors from the 1600s. By doing genetic testing, they learned that a high number of Eyam residents carried a gene that made them immune to the plague. And still do.

And it gets even better than that, because the gene that blocks the Black Plague? Also turns out to block AIDS, and was instrumental in helping to find effective medication for people who have HIV and AIDS in the 21st century.

Here is a lovely, well-produced documentary about Eyam and its disease resistance. It’s a little under an hour. Trigger warning for general disease and epidemic-type stuff, but also, maybe it will help you have some hope in these alarmly uncertain times.