#come so far :( it’s been such a long journey :( i just need any coffee :(‘

[fingertipsmp3]

Man, today was absolutely mental. I don’t think I’ve ever come so close to losing it with a customer

[chelseypprimrose]

The Nanny Next Door / dbf!negan x reader / no apocalypse au

Warnings: unprotected sex, use of degrading language, dirty talk *not proof read yet*

Summary: When you came back for summer break, you didn’t expect your father to have such a handsome neighbour.

‘Ding!’ Juggling 3 small carry on bags and 2 large suitcases, you let out a sigh as you pressed the doorbell.

Finally you had made it back to your dad’s house after the long flight and Uber journey you had to take to get there. While you liked travelling, having to bring so many bags for such a long stay, your arms felt like they could drop off at any moment. Having finished the college semester for the year, you took your fathers gracious offer to come home for a couple weeks to be able to fully relax before going into your final year, you’d really missed your home comforts and family being so far away, FaceTime calls not being enough to make you feel properly connected to them.

The front door opened with a quickness, your fathers beaming smile, dressed in his usual beige cop uniform, indicating he’d just got back from work. “Hi dad.” Your face beaming back at him, as he engulfed you in a deep hug. “Hey sweetheart, we’ve missed you so much, it’s just not the same without you round here.”

“Dad, who is it?” You heard a small voice call out from the kitchen, their head poking around the archway. “Carl!” You shouted, him running towards you when he saw you. “I missed you so much!” Trapping him in a even bigger hug than your dad had given you, out of all your family, you always missed Carl the most. After your parents divorce, you’d been each other’s shoulder to cry on, someone to talk through how you felt about the whole situation, even though Carl was still pretty young, he was more mature for his age than other children. He always knew how to get you out of a bad mood, made you laugh more than anyone else you knew.

“I can’t believe your actually here Y/N! Dad didn’t tell me you were even coming!” You laughed, squeezing him in your arms. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise kid.”

Your father began to grab your bags from the front porch, placing them near the staircase as you raised up off your crouched position you’d got into to hug Carl. “Jesus, did you really need all this stuff?” He questioned, a sharp breath leaving him as he managed to bring the last bag into the house, closing the door with his foot afterwards. You walked into the kitchen, pouring a coffee into your favourite cup from the coffee pot on the kitchen counter. “Yes, everything in those bags is essential, I’m not here for a couple days like last time you know.” You replied, taking a sip of the steaming drink. You softly moaned, the sweet caffeine perking you up straight away after what felt like such a long day. “So, got any plans to see anyone while your here?”

You shook your head at your father, you weren’t really bothered about seeing anyone other than your family, most of your relationships had fizzled out when you’d moved away, not many people showing any interest in coming to visit or even keep a good messaging schedule with you. “I’m here for one thing and one thing only, my family and relaxation baby!” You exclaimed, making them both laugh, while Rick would always be proud of how much care and effort you put into your studies, he knew how much you needed a break from it all. There had been many instances of late night phone conversations where you’d been at your wits end, the stress of college weighing you down. Carl took his leave, moving into the living room, the faint noise of the game system starting up.

The doorbell ringing caught you all off guard, Rick’s eyebrows furrowed, “Not expecting anyone?” You asked, placing your now empty cup into the sink. “No, I’m not.” He retorted, walking back over to the door. “Oh hey! Negan, come on in.” You heard your dad say, the noise of heavy footsteps and the door closing behind him and his guest. You flicked your coat off your shoulders, placing it on a chair at the dining room table, letting yourself get fully comfortable.

“Hey, Y/N! This is Negan, he moved next door after you went back to college.” You turned back to face the archway, your breath getting caught in your throat as you got a first glance at the 6’1 man walking in next to your father. He looked around his mid thirties to early forties, his jet black hair slicked into the classic ducktail look with his sideburns slight greying. Same for his salt and pepper beard, neatly trimmed into a full beard style.

Dressed in a white t-shirt that clinched his obviously toned torso, denim jeans fitting so snug on his body, a black leather jacket to top it all off. He walked with a certain attitude that you couldn’t work out if it was confidence or cockiness, a small smirk sat on his features.

“So this is the smart cookie you are always bragging about, Grimes?!” He laughed, his large hand coming out indicate a handshake. You grasped his hand, the softness of yours against the roughness of his causing your mind to wander away on what it would be like around your neck. The strong grip left yours after what felt like minutes, you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He grinned back at you, “Right back at you… Negan? Wasn’t it?” You questioned, a slight false innocence in your tone. He nodded, eyes softly taking in your form. You realised your milkmaid style dress didn’t leave much to the imagination, being quite short but it was the summer you thought, too hot to be wearing anything else really.

“Did you need something, Negan? Wasn’t expecting you to be calling in.” Your dad quizzed, bringing you both back out of the little bubble your introduction had put you in. Negan swinged back around to look at your father, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually I had a bit of a favour to ask, I need someone to look after Elise. Gotta go out and do a couple things, was going to ask if she could come over here for a few hours, spend sometime with Carl. He’s been a really good influence on her since they became friends, finally been paying goddamn attention at school.” He confessed, Rick looking a bit sheepish at him. “Unfortunately, Carl’s got a baseball game tonight, otherwise it wouldn’t be a problem.” He felt bad for declining but these plans had been in place since the beginning of last week.

“I can look after her. I haven’t got any plans.” You mentioned nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. You heard Carl whinge from the living room, shouting. “Aren’t you going to come to my game?” Running into the room, almost knocking you over as he hugged you from the side. “I’ll have plenty of time to come see you play kid. I’m here all summer! Besides, it’s nice to help other people out.” You laughed, your hand rubbing his shoulder trying to comfort the small child. “Any friend of my family is a friend of me, right dad?” You suggested, your eyes sparkling as you looked at Negan and your father.

“Are you sure doll? I’ve only just met you and I’m already dumping my kid on you.” You shook your head, leaving Carl’s embrace, walking over in front of him. “It’s no problem at all, what time do you need me to come over?”

And that’s how you got here. Making your way towards Negan’s front door, waving to your dad and brother as they left in his sheriff’s car to go to Carl’s game. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were nervous. You’d done your fair amount of babysitting when Carl was younger, being the one to watch over his birthday parties, getting the kids involved in all the party games and fixing all the little squabbles children got into between each other, sleepovers he’d had with his friends, always cooking a small buffet dinner for them all, letting them watch scary movies until they eventually regretted it when they couldn’t fall to sleep afterwards. This was unfounded territory, Carl didn’t have many friends that were girls and you hadn’t had much experience with them. Would she even like you? Would she even want to talk to you? All these questions raced through your mind as you brought your hand up, knocking on his door three times before waiting with your hands locked together.

The door swung open, that deviously handsome face with that grin meeting you once again. “Hey doll, come on in.” Negan greeted you, moving slightly to the side so you could enter. “Thanks again so much for this, I really appreciate it. Elise! Get in here please!” He shouted, a small girl walking into the hallway. She looked the spitting image of Negan, just more innocent looking than her father. Her hair braided into two long pigtails on her head, making you wonder if Negan did her hair for her or it was self taught. “This is Y/N, Rick’s daughter, she’s gonna watch you for a while, daddy has some things he needs to do, okay?” He explained, grabbing his car keys off the side of the entryway table. Elise nodded, a shy smile on her face as she looked at you. “I gotta run doll, make yourself at home, mi casa es su casa!” He grinned, giving Elise a kiss on the head before heading out the door, locking it behind him. You turned back to the little girl, smiling softly.

“Hey Elise, it’s nice to meet you! Is there anything you want to do?” You questioned, hoping you could find some common interest with her so she felt less awkward. “Mummy always makes cookies with me? Daddy isn’t very good at it.” She gleams, you letting out a small laugh. Of cause, a eligible bachelor like Negan can’t cook. You nodded your head, agreeing that you could do it, she took your hand in her smaller one, leading you towards the kitchen.

You were about half way through finishing the batter, picking Elise up so she could put the chocolate chips into the bowl, showing her how to fold them into the mixture properly. Unfortunately for you, her elbow accidentally knocked the flour packet that was still open over, causing you both to be covered in the white powder. You squealed, Elise’s giggles filling the room as you joined along with her, placing her down back onto the ground. “Okay, okay! Oh no, come on, let’s get this into the oven before we make more of a mess!” You exclaimed, quickly rolling the slightly sticky dough into small circles, placing them on the grease proof paper covered baking tray. Putting on the red oven mitts, you opened the oven, the hot air hitting you in your face, sliding the tray onto the rack. You took the cute chicken egg timer and set it for 25 minutes, now looking down at your flour covered clothing. Elise had a little on the front of her dungarees, you getting the most of the mess on yourself. It was now around 8:00pm, Negan hadn’t given you a specific time for her to be in bed but you gathered that it was quite late now, with some resistance you managed to get Elise to agree to get into her pyjamas, promising to bring her up a cookie when they were finished. You put her into bed, with a warm glass of milk and the small tv in her room playing a animation film as well.

You made your way back down the stairs, leaving a crack in her door so you could hear if she shouted you for anything. You got to work cleaning the kitchen up, noting there was around 10 minutes left on the egg timer. You didn’t know what to do about your clothes, not only the flour but also the general mess from making cookies with a 7 year old, you decided that Negan wouldn’t mind if you washed your clothes here, right? The washer and dryer were in the kitchen, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Managing to find a cabinet with towels, bed sheets and other laundry items, you grabbed a large white towel, stripping down to your bra and panties, covering your body with the towel and putting your other clothes on a short wash cycle. After this, the egg timer rang out, causing you to jump a little bit. You grabbed the oven mitts again, pulling the tray out of the oven, using a utensil to put the cookies on a large plate to cool down. The smell of vanilla was soothing you, reminding you of your own childhood memories baking with your mother. You broke one of the cookies in half, placing it in your mouth as the taste made you moan a little. You were a damn good baker you thought, the still warm gooey centre melting on your tongue.

The beep of the washer went off, you took your clothes out, moving them over to the dryer, setting the cycle off again for 20 minutes. You grabbed a another cookie off the plate, a slight jog as you went up the stairs, fulfilling your promise to the sweet little girl. Getting closer to the door, you heard soft snores, indicating she’d already fallen asleep. You softly smiled, closing the door fully so the landing light wouldn’t disturb her sleep. Tip toeing quietly down the stairs, you walked into the living room, taking a seat on the cream coloured leather couch.

Grabbing the TV remote of the coffee table, you scrolled through the Netflix catalog, choosing some random reality competition show to put on as you waited patiently for the dryer to be finished. The opening of the front door making you nearly jump out of your skin. Negan was back early, he’d told you 10pm, it was only 9pm! The awkward moment rushed over you, you were in a towel with barely any clothes on underneath, sat in your dad’s best friends house who you’d only met today. You didn’t know what to do, did you hide? Did you scramble to the dryer hoping your clothes had finished? There was no logical route of escape from the embarrassing situation that was ahead of you, so you jumped up, the low light of the room causing a large black shadow of Negan on the wall as you heard his footsteps get closer to the room you were in.

He finally came into view, his eyes widened which turned into a small smirk on his face as his tongue swiped along his bottom lip. “Well, shit doll, I was going to give you some cash for your time but if you’d prefer payment this way.” You blushed, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry, I swear this isn’t what it looks like, we were baking cookies and my clothes got all dirty, I didn’t think you’d mind me usin-” He cut off your rambling with a deep belly laugh, sauntering slowly over to you. You could feel your heart in your throat, his eyes wandering over your scantily covered body. “No need for apologies doll, I should be apologising for the absolute rock hard erection I’ve got from the sight of you like this.” He whispered softly, you were sure your cheeks were crimson red, you could feel the heat overcoming your face. “What would your daddy say if he knew you were in my house, nearly half naked?” He questioned, his face dangerously closer to your own, his lips ghosting over yours. His minty breath hitting your nose, causing shivers throughout your entire body. “He’d probably be very disappointed, Negan.” You whimpered out, feeling your pussy getting slicker from every word that left his mouth.

“Look at you! Innocent on the eyes but underneath, a real dirty girl huh? If you want this doll, Let. The. Towel. Go.” He punctured his last words with a deep growl. Your hands moved up towards the top of the towel, unwrapping it and falling to the floor, pooling around your feet. Negan watched you with a dark intensity, your perky breasts sitting in your turquoise blue lace bra, matching panties to match, you thanked god you’d decided to put on a proper set in advance.

A small wet patch had gathered on the material of your panties, his hands finally meeting your breasts, his heavy touch lighting your body on fire. “Are you sure you want this doll? No going back.” You quickly nodded, desperate for his touch between your legs. He pulled your breasts out of the bra, leaning down to take your left nipple in his wet mouth, his tongue circling your areola, small goosebumps coming into view. His rough hand playing with your right nipple, switching between sucking and rolling each nipple in his fingertips a couple times, causing small moans to leave your lips. You moved your hands to unclip your bra, throwing it to a unknown corner of the room, now giving Negan full access to your ample breasts.

His hands now moving slowly down your stomach towards your dripping pussy, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties, teasing you. You lightly moaned out, trying to keep as quiet as you could, knowing who was upstairs. “Negan, please. Touch me there, please.” Negan’s grin got even wider, if that was at all possible, a beautiful woman in front of him, practically begging for his dick, it was enough to get any man feral.

He picked you up in one fluid movement, placing you back first on the large couch. His hands now pulling your panties off down your legs, placing the soaked material into his jeans pocket. You moaned at the thought of him keeping them to himself, a personal trophy. His mouth placed soft kisses on the smooth skin of the inside of your thighs, one hand on your other thigh, keeping your legs open for him. “I’m sorry doll, I need you so goddamn bad. I’ll make it up to you next time.” Next time you thought, god there’s going to be a next time. Trying to hide the excitement from your face, Negan quickly unbuckled his belt, zipper coming down to expose his hard erection, your eyes lighting up at the girth that met you.

Negan’s tip met your wet opening, slowly teasing you by rubbing it up and down in between your folds, you hissed at the movement. “Shit Negan, please! I need you so fucking bad, just fuck me!” You begged, his relentless teasing making your head spin with lust. “Well since you asked so fucking nicely, doll.” His tip finally pushed in, smoothly filling you up.

Negan gave you a moment to get used to the fullness you were feeling, before moving his hips back and forth, his pace getting quicker. You actively started pushing yourself down to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips and squeezing your muscles to make sure he hit all the right spots.

He grunted, these new found angles milking him just right. His hands coming to your breasts, grabbing them roughly, causing your moans to get louder. Your bodies slapping together, you felt the pleasure build, you knew you were getting dangerously close. “Fuck, I knew you were a dirty fucking slut, doing favours for a man you barely knew, you couldn’t wait for me to be balls deep, could you?” You felt your hips bucking at his dirty statement. “No, I wanted you from the moment I saw you Ne-Negan!” You whimpered, hands grabbing bunches of the leather jacket he still had on from earlier, the cold temperature of it clashing with your hot skin.

Negan leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss. “Come on doll, cum all over my cock pretty girl. I can feel how fucking close you are.” He whispered against your mouth, his thrusts getting deeper until he was hitting the back of your walls. That’s all you needed, your hips started to slightly buck, your walls convulsing around his shaft as it kept hitting your cervix. Negan’s hand came over your mouth, trying to stop your loud moans from reaching upstairs. “I love those pretty moans doll, can’t wait until you can scream as loud as you need to.” Your breathing heavy as you felt yourself let go, your vision blurring as you threw your head back, letting your orgasm wash over you. Negan moaned himself, the pressure of your walls tightening from your climax, he managed to hold on for a few more seconds than you until he pulled out, the hot cum coating your lower abdomen, falling softly on top of your body, him leaving little kisses on your neck as your arms came around him to hold him against you. Your throat feeling dry from the open mouth breaths you’d been taking, trying to regulate your heartbeat again. He grabbed the towel that was by his knees, giving it to you to clean up, his frame not moving from his position on top of you,

“Have I killed you, old man?” You teased, laughing softly as he managed to give you a little spank on your exposed hip. “There’s plenty more where that came from dollface, you’re mine for the next couple weeks.” He grinned, before nipping at your neck again, already ready for another round.

[cerisahh]

STARGIRL!

SYNOPSIS ꒱ one of dg’s fangirls becomes his partner (reupload)

REQUEST ꒱ here for dg crumbs 🥹 with a non fighter, average reader, like she is average and doesn't have much that stands out to her and is a dg simp. she simps hard for this man. not a toxic or psycho fan but a supportive one. we need more dg content!! 🤧 oh right! it could be james with an average non fighter s/o as well. it would make my day if you could do this really! thank you for reading! - 🐇

NOTE ꒱ hi rabbit anon 🐇, sorry it took so long to get around to this, i am lazy! i won’t write for james just yet as i haven’t got far enough in the manwha to really know his backstory and personality, so i hope this is alright instead! hope you enjoy the read regardless though - and thank you for requesting!

• you first met at one of his autograph signings.

• you were the last person to be let into the line, luck was on your side!

• by the time you had gotten to the front, dg was pretty exhausted, it had been a long day and he was looking forward to an evening of relaxation.

• you come forward, you go through the basics - he thanks you for coming, a little small talk, he signs a few pictures.

• you were allocated five minutes to talk to him, but to his surprise you begin saying your goodbye’s early. he’s confused, usually people try and go over the five minute limit, not under.

• after he informs you that you still have three minutes left, you get a little flustered and explain that he looks pretty tired, and that he should get some rest.

• in his head he’s like how does she know… nonetheless you bid eachother a good night and both leave to retire to your homes.

• dg thinks about your interaction whilst getting ready for bed that night, not many of his fans are that considerate or pay much attention to his body language, he mentally thanks you for your consideration when his head hits the pillow.

• you on the other hand are going ballistic. did you JUST meet dg??? omfg. AND you had a conversation?? you were just thankful you didn’t stutter over your words. you comb through the pictures he signed and stick them around your vanity.

• you meet more times after that, mostly at his meet and greets but he's spotted you in a few event crowds.

• your conversations gradually get more friendly and personal. he actually finds himself forgetting to keep up his idol persona when in your company.

• he makes the first move, asking you if you want to grab a drink after his meet and greet is over.

• and OH BOY do you struggle to hide your excitement, you agree and meet him at the place he mentioned.

• he’s in disguise, of course. a mask, sunglasses, and a brown wig. you don’t recognise him at first but he waves you over to a booth table.

• he doesn’t mention it but he’s glad you didn’t recognise him. if you didn’t see through his disguise, not many people would.

• these little lunch get togethers continue for a couple months, gradually you guys come to expect hanging out with eachother on that specific day of the week.

• dg likes that you don't hold him to any ridiculous standards. you didn't when you first met, you don't now.

• a year in, as the coffee get togethers graduate from; “see you next week!” to, "it's getting late… wanna crash at my place?", dg begins to realise he likes you.

• when he does realise this, it's really out of the blue. the pieces just click into place and he's like - oh!

• dg enjoys your company, of course! but he’s hyper aware of his idol status, he doesn’t want to bring you into that world if he can help it.

• he already knew you liked him romantically. i mean, he's got thousand of fans, he's used to them having crushes on him, it's always obvious - it just so happens that you found your way into his life.

• after his journey of self discovery he clears his hectic schedule the best he can to spend more time with you.

• when you two do eventually get together officially, after an excruciating amount of time dancing around blurred lines, you don't publicise your relationship.

• you and dg both understand the consequences it would have not only on his idol career but on your wellbeing, fangirls can be insane! you would know.

• i feel like his love language would definitely be quality time. since he usually has so little of it to spare, every moment counts. those focused and uninterrupted conversations, where the only thing that matters is you two, on that moment.

• to be honest, i’d put acts of service high up on this too. i don’t think he’d care all too much about gift giving (with how rich he is, material objects lose their value), physical touch i reckon he’d be normal with, it is given and received in moderate amounts.

• words of affirmation are at the bottom of the list. honeyed words are all good and nice but actions speak louder than words. he’d rather show he cares than simply say it.

• he does offers to teach you how to defend yourself, whether you accept or not is up to you!

• i also think this man is the OPPOSITE of a blanket hog. like he sleeps with the THINNEST sheet over him and every time you ask him if he wants to come under the nice warm duvet covers he says he’s too hot already.

• yet he still cuddles with you at night, hmmmm 🤔.

• don’t even get me started on if you offer to massage his shoulders after he’s had a long day. dg is sure he’s been sent an angel from heaven.

• going out for your dates requires caution, but at this point dg would do anything for you.

• usually date nights take place in your apartment though. dg is very much a classic kind of guy so make sure you’ve got some vases because you should be expecting flowers from him by now.

• relaxing with you at the end of the night is often the highlight of his day. free from flashing cameras and over eager fans - not that he didn’t appreciate his glamorous lifestyle! after all, it’s how he met you.

• so when you’re both curled up on the sofa or in bed, with you fast asleep in his arms, he allows himself a moment to think of his future, your future. together.

© CERISAHH 2024 — all fics on this account belong to… ME! don’t steal my shit.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

most people

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Prompt: “i can't believe you don't like hugs."

Summary: you come home to the tower to hear that your teammate tony has been awake for days. you take it upon yourself to get to complete some much-needed self-care.

Warnings: fluff.

Word Count: 1,741

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The door sounded with a quiet, welcoming ding as the elevator arrived on your floor, the lights of your suite already on and pleasantly dimmed to accommodate to the tenderness of your eyes this late at night. It was a little before three in the morning, and while your flight had had no major issues and the traffic between the airport and Avengers Tower had been blessedly in your favor, it was still agonizing to be getting home so late.

Home.

It still surprised you how quickly you’d come to think of this place as more than just a place to sleep, more than what had originally felt like a ridiculously over-sized hotel room. It had been only six months since Loki’s attack on New York, and while the renovations to the Tower were not yet finished, your suite had been one of the first floors to be completed. And now it somehow felt far more familiar to you than any of the countless beds you had claimed over the last twenty-seven years.

“Welcome back, Ms. Y/L/N,” the cool, friendly voice of Tony’s personal assistant sounded from the invisible speakers above you. “I trust your journey was pleasant.”

“It was, for a nine-hour flight in a broken seat,” you replied with a sigh, stretching out the lingering kink in your lower back. You set your suitcase down by the elevator doors. “And how many times do I have to tell you; it’s just Y/N.”

“I’m sure only once more,” he replied. “As always.”

You chuckled, a small, tired smile lingering on your lips. “Are the others here?”

“Only Mr. Stark is in residence at the moment,” the A.I. informed you as you made your way further into your suite. You toed off your shoes, shedding your jacket and tossing it onto the nearby sofa. “Shall I inform him of your arrival?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to wake him.”

There was a slight pause. “Mr. Stark is not asleep, Ms. Y/L/N.”

How an A.I. could have a variation in tone, you weren’t sure, but you stopped halfway to unbuttoning your jeans. “And how long exactly has Tony been awake?”

“…Almost eighty-three hours, ma’am.”

“I think I hate ‘ma’am’ even more than my last name.” you sighed, casting a glance towards the room to your left. The door was ajar, and you swore your bed was calling to you. “Where is he?”

“In the lab.”

“…Okay.”

***

A wall of sound greeted you as you stepped into the lab, and you flinched. It lowered immediately to a more bearable level, and you silently praised whatever part of JARVIS’ programming it was that could pick up on your discomfort like that.

“JARVIS,” Tony said without looking up from his work. “Don’t mess with my music.”

He was at the far end of the lab, moving between a couple of workbenches and the hologram of his latest designs with the disorganized, staccato rhythm you had begun to recognize as being a sign of sleep deprivation. There was a half-empty coffee pot on the bench closest to you, the scent of it gone stale. Tony’s clothes were rumpled, as was his hair, and you frowned when you noticed the shadows under his eyes. They were made darker by the blue light of the hologram between the two of you.

“I think we can do better on these reflector panels, J.,” he continued as though he hadn’t noticed you enter. “If this suit is going to work for stealth, I’m going to need the change to be instantaneous.” He waved a hand, and parts of the suit projected in front of him dropped away. “Scrap ‘em. Take it from the top.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hello to you, too, Stark.” you said snidely despite your concern. “Or am I expected to call you ‘sir’ in here, too?”

“Only if you want me to get all tingly over it,” he retorted teasingly, finally pausing long enough to meet your eye. He gave you a genuine, if distracted and exhausted, smile.

“Most people just say ‘welcome home’.”

Tony returned to one of the benches, eyes fixating on a tablet screen. “Are you implying that I could possibly be ‘most people’?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, sidestepping an abandoned helmet prototype. There was an empty coffee mug sitting inside it. The crockery was stained with dark brown rings. You made you way around to his workbench, pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of it beside him. “Tony, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

“You know the answer to that,” he said, pointedly avoiding your eye and focusing his gaze on the work in front of him. “Or did you come all the way down here just for a hug?”

“A hug? Hardly,” you said with a scoff.

Tony met your eye, raising a brow. There was a teasing tilt to his lips, a challenge in his expression. “I don’t accept that.”

“Accept what?”

“I can’t believe that you don’t like hugs.” he said, straightening. He moved to stand in front of you, his hands claiming your knees. You felt a warmth spread up from where he touched you to heat your belly, and you straightened slightly, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. “I refuse to accept it. I mean, for a woman completely capable of breaking every bone in my body with her bare hands, you’re downright cuddly.”

As he said the last words he reached up and touched the tip of his finger to your nose tauntingly, and you wrinkled it in response. He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes at him. Something about sleep deprivation always made him lighter, more teasing. While his usual jokes were witty and occasionally flirty, when you found him like this, he was… softer. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a massive dork?”

Tony’s grin widened, and he stepped back, holding up his hands as though you’d just proved his point. “See, anyone else would call me an asshole, but you – sweet, innocent thing that you are – go with ‘dork’.”

“Oh, Stark. Trust me,” you snickered, pushing yourself up off the edge of the table. It closed much of the distance between the two of you, your chest almost meeting his. You made a show of casting your eyes down over him before meeting his eye with a smirk. “If you actually knew me, the last word you’d be using to describe me is ‘innocent’.”

Intrigue flashed in his eyes, a curve to his parted lips sending an unexpected thrill up your spine. He made move to speak, but you pressed a finger to his lips. His smile widened against your skin.

“I’m sure whatever you were about to say would have been rife with innuendo, Tony,” you said. “But honestly, you kind of stink. How long’s it been since you had a shower?”

***

“Y’know, I’m not really sure why I had to stick around for this.” you called out over the sound of rushing water, folding your arms over your chest. You were standing outside the penthouse bathroom, your back against the wall beside the door. Steam billowed out of the open doorway, clinging to your bare arms.

The water shut off, and Tony’s reply came a few moments later, his voice echoing off the tile. “And here I thought you were worried about my wellbeing, sweetheart.”

“You’re not exactly at risk of drowning in the shower, Tony,” you pointed out. You heard his answering chuckle and the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing. There was a long silence, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of shaving cream being sprayed and a razor against skin. “And you survived it. So, can I go to bed now?”

“And miss out on this quality team-bonding time?” he called out. “Shudder to think.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “‘Team-bonding’? We’re missing a couple of key members here. Unless you’ve got Rogers stashed in your shower caddy.”

“Not exactly the member I’d pick for that,” he replied as he stepped through the doorway, wiping at his jaw with a towel. Another was slung securely around his hips. Rivulets of water marked his bare torso, droplets clinging to his chest. There was a teasing smirk on his lips, and you swallowed. “Now, Romanoff on the other hand—”

“I’m going to stop you there before this conversation devolves into casual misogyny,” you eye-rolled, holding up a hand.

“I’ll have you know I’m an equal opportunity lech.” Tony shot back, amused. “I just didn’t think Thor would fit in the caddy.”

You snorted a laugh.

“Right…” you said. He’d missed a tiny patch of shaving cream on the corner of his jaw, and you reached up to wipe it away with two fingers. Tony’s smile widened as you wiped it on his bare chest. You cleared your throat as you realized the intimacy of your actions. “Well, you’ve managed to navigate the perils of a penthouse bathroom, Iron Man. Congrats.”

“So, what’s your excuse now?”

Confusion creased the skin between your brows. “For what?”

Tony’s smirk twitched, and you recognized the challenge in his eyes. Something in the pit of your stomach fluttered. “For turning down a hug.”

You laughed, shaking your head disbelieving. “God, Stark, you are such a—”

Tony took hold of your arm, surprising you by pulling you toward him and bringing his lips to yours. They were soft and warm, teasing with the taste of spearmint. The clean scent of his body wash enveloped you, his fingers gentle but firm on your arm. The warmth of his body – still bolstered by the heat of the shower – leached into your skin, wrapping you in a ghost of an embrace that made you lean into him. The kiss lasted only a moment before he pulled back again, that expression of taunting flirtation still in place.

You pressed your lips together, your skin tingling. “What was that for?”

He shrugged a shoulder, tightening the towel around his waist. There was an annoying note of nonchalance in his expression, and self-assuredness that told you he knew exactly what kind of effect he’d just had on you. “Call it a thank you.”

“I—” you swallowed, forcing your breath to steady. “Most people just say ‘thank you’.”

He grinned, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Didn’t we agree that I’m not ‘most people’?”

.

.

.

tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @ccbsrms @lina-mar@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13@lol-you-thought@sebbystanlover-vk@mikariell95@csigeoblue@abrunettefangirlnerd@babyblues915@aar-journey@moistpotatobear @capsironunderoos @bellamyblakemorley@diesinspanishbcimhispanic@sentimentalalien@agustdowney@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@patheticallysentimental@loki-is-loved

[equallyshaw]

not about angels | mat barzal

word count: 3.0k

warnings: talks of cancer and death.

It would be lovely if the format didn’t change after every save omg

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

We know full well there's just time So is it wrong to dance this line? If your heart was full of love Could you give it up?

◦

we only have so long in this life, until our journey is meant to end. only so much time to spend with loved ones and create memories that can last a lifetime. only so much time until things can change, much to our dismay.

when mat got the call, it was as if the whole world stopped. he was in the process of getting ready for a home game and maggie was incessant in trying to get ahold of him. well, her mom was.

"hey, im in the middle of-" and mat was cut off by sobbing - scratch that, screeching. his heart fell to his stomach, as maggie's mom explained that he needed to get home.

"i can't come home right now-" again, he was cut off. "mat - mat, maggie has cancer. she just got the news hun." maggie's mom explained, her voice faltering in and out.

mat dropped the tape and stick, and stared at the ground. he couldn't move, he couldn't speak and felt as if his world was frozen. "mat?" she questioned as tears began to form in his brown eyes, and then he looked down and let out a small whimper. this was not how maggie had planned for him to find out, but she wanted him home. anders lee looked over a few stalls and saw mat begin to cry, and quickly looked around and saw a few other guys begin to look up. "tell her- tell her im coming home- now." he said before hanging up. he wiped his eyes, sniffling, and standing up.

"mat." anders said standing up and trying to assess the situation, and mat couldn't look at anybody in the eye "i - i have to go find coach, let him know i - i have to go home." he said before walking out. he found coach pretty quickly and as soon as he said told the news to him, he broke down. him and management would do what they needed to do to give him some time off, so they could process it together as a couple. mat thanked them before quickly going and changing to head out. "mat, is everything okay?" matt martin questioned as he sat back down next to him. mat shook his head, continuing to get changed. before mat was about to leave matt spoke up, "if you need anything from us just let us know ok?" matt said and mat thanked him before walking out. he sat in the car for a few moments before heading home.

mat made it home in about 35 minutes, quickly heading inside, and was met with sobbing. he followed it to the living room to see maggie in her mom's arms trying to comfort her daughter. "mags?" he asked setting his keys down on the coffee table in front of them and maggie's sobs ceased. she turned around slowly, her cheeks stained with tears and crimson red. her mom got off the couch and said she was going to call maggies dad, and mat took over. "mat-" she sobbed and mat nodded, "i know." he repeated over and over again softly. his heart broke as he listened to her sobs and the way her body crumbled in his arms. he rubbed her back, his body slowly relaxing as her sobs grew softer and softer until she wasn't crying. "i didn't want to tell you that way, im so sorry mat." she said looking up from his chest and his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "don't apologize for one second. you needed me and wanted me home, you know ill come running always mags." he said softly kissing her temple. she nodded, "doctor says i don't have very long.." she said feeling herself beginning to cry again. "he says its too far along for chemo." she said before her body began to shake, and mat pulled her in tighter. in fear of losing her for just one second.

this was the absolute love of his life, he knew the second he saw her from across the bar. newly 21, she decided to head to a bar that her and her friends had never been to in manhattan, and that was where she first sat mat. just like any other girl, she was a goner. there conversation in that bar, lasted for a few hours before heading back to her place to continue that said conversation. they couldn't get enough of one another, mat even stayed in the off season for pretty much the full thing just so they wouldn't be apart. only going home, when she was able to get a week off.

how could he be losing the one thing that mattered most in this universe? the one person he only saw himself having kids with? the one who goes above and beyond for any and all events while maintaining a full time job as a paralegal? the one person that no matter what could put a smile on his face, and garner a chuckle from even after the most brutal of brutal losses. how could he lose the one that he believed was created for him and vice versa? who's hand fit in his or the way their arms felt like home to one another? how could he give up that for a life of unknowns and one where he goes back to the drawing board?

◦

'Cause what about, what about angels? They will come, they will go, make us special, oh

◦

maggie was his angel, and he was her's they always liked to say. heck, they were even named that on their phone's. he knew that he had met maggie and created a life with her, for a reason. there was something deeper and more meaningful in knowing her and loving her than mat could ever decipher. those three months of holding on only to let his angel go, was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, and hoped that it would be the only hardest thing he'd have to endure. he watched as her body gave up on itself, and the smile that usually was plastered on her pale skin- gone. wiped clean and stripped. he watched as she lost her hair, and her sense of confidence was swept away. the love for life slowly crumbled for the frail girl. her sense of days and time blurred together, resulting in anger, grief, and confusion for her. mat always there to pick her up, help her gain a sense of reality and come back to the present. and then for her to enter hospice for only a few days, spawning in one last sleep together. one last goodnight kiss for his fiance.

he would go back in time to redo the last two years. he would give up anything in this lifetime to have more time with her. he would do anything to hold her close once more.

◦

Don't give me up

◦

maggie made mat promise that he would move on with life, he would move on with hockey and move on and find somebody else in this lifetime. she begged and pleaded, to not walk through life alone. that he was far too young and had way too many years left to be alone. mat couldn't get her to understand that he would never want anybody else. that there would be no other woman that he'd fall in love with. he also would not allow himself, in respect to her. maggie said that he could fall in love again, and that it would be ok. that he could still live his life and hold her in his heart forever, all while creating a life with somebody else. somebody else should be so ever lucky to know him and love him, and gain his love in return.

"matty.." maggie whispered, one cold winter night. mat's sleep schedule non existant since taking a leave of absence from the team. his sleep being short and light, with every move or sound maggie made. he quickly opened his eyes, looking down at her as she turned around in his arms. her soft green hazel eyes, puffy and encircled by bags. "whats wrong? do you need anything?" he questioned beginning to shift but she shook her head. "i just-i cant sleep." she murmured, biting her chapped lip. "what are you thinking about?" he questioned softly, pushing the few strands she had left. she clasped her eyes shut in embarrassment and guilt that was coursing through her veins at this point. "im sorry." she hummed, as she let a few tears fall. "what are you sorry for?" he questioned, wiping them gently. "im sorry for everything....im sorry that this happened...you don't deserve this at all. you shouldn't have to watch me falling apart like this. you-you deserve to be playing and developing your career, not be here with me." she said and mat shook his head. he couldn't think of any reason why she was thinking this, or any reason why she thought it to be true. but he knew why. "no. no. please don't say that mags. there is no way under any circumstance that i would not be here. no reason. i would -" he paused knowing that the next few words needed to send the message. "i would kill myself if i couldn't be here. i wouldn't be able to live withmyself and go on with my day to day or life for that matter if i wasn't here, because you'd be my every thought and concern." he paused as she looked up to meet his eye. "i vowed two months ago that i would be here through everything and i meant that. don't give me up maggie, because ill be here no matter what. ill be stubborn as hell if you banish me, you best believe." he said a bit cheekily at the end. she swallowed hard, her throat dry like the arizona desert at this time of the night.

she brought a soft hand to his cheek, and he closed his eyes savoring the feeling and the cold that oozed from her. when he reopened his eyes, he saw the tears that were still in her eyes. "whoever is lucky to find you in this lifetime, is one incredibly lucky girl." she hummed and he felt his heart break even more.

◦

How unfair, it's just our luck Found something real that's out of touch But if you'd searched the whole wide world Would you dare to let it go?

◦

maggie was adored by each and every person that came across her. her midwestern people pleasing and kindness made her somebody that people flocked to. that was partially why he was enamored the moment he left her apartment after the two spent 6 hours talking.

his grieving was stemmed in anger and frustration, that somebody so sweet and loving and a pearl in this world, could be taken away so quickly. her dreams and wildest ideas that would never come to fruition. mat would go to the ends of the earth just to be with her again. he'd never let go, in another lifetime. in another lifetime they were married and had kids and had the life they dreamed of; together.

◦

'Cause what about, what about angels? They will come, they will go, make us special, oh

◦

trigger warning: death.

mat and maggie lay in each others arms, as the nurse had just left for the evening. maggie had some inkling that tonight would be her last, as maggie had just entered hospice in their home a few days prior. her days had been filmed with a nurse coming in the morning to administer morning meds, they'd leave and come back in the afternoon for more meds and then come back in the evening to take vitals and more meds.

mat basked in these quiet moments when she wasn't vomiting or shaking with chills from the side effects that the meds gave her. he'd been able to savor and cherish these small moments when maggie's true self came through. he savored her little giggles, rambles, and her humor come through before she'd fall asleep.

maggie looked up at mat and smiled. "what?" he said grinning, her smile sending butterflies from head to toe. "i was just thinking..." she paused frowning slightly now, "i hope that-that in every other universe or lifetime, we got one another. perhaps in those ones...we got more time together." she said beginning to cry. mat pulled her in closer, joining in now. he sobbed into her neck as she cried into his chest. "every single one, mags. every one." he whispered loud enough for her to hear and that made her sob even more.

mat knew as soon as she fell asleep, she would not wake again. he didn't sleep one second that evening, watching as her chest rose and fell. fearing that if he did, she would slip from this world. it was around 5:34 when the sun was beginning to rise, he saw her chest fall for the last time before the machine went off. he pulled her in as tears fell, not wanting to let go for the final time. her parents ran in at the sound, her mom going to shut the machine off whilst her dad called 911. his parents came in and quickly went to console maggies parents before all of them took their final moments with her, with mat not wanting to let go.

◦

"she was the love of my life, since the moment i saw her. the very first word out of her mouth, i knew she'd be mine. we were destined for each other, and liked to say we were made for one another. she was my angel and i her's." mat paused, sniffling. "magdalene harper, was an angel to everybody that came across her. no one had anything bad to say about her, always going above and beyond; all with her incredible midwestern accent that i absolutely adored." he said pausing to smile. "she was always there to put a smile on my face, to make me crack even after a brutal loss, always ready to tickle if i didn't budge. gosh...she always knew how to make me gain perspective and understanding. always coming in with an angle on life, that i would have never thought of without her." he paused, wiping his eye. "that's what i loved most..was her keen ability to make sense of life and what it had given her, us, me. you name it, she always knew how to take the bad and make it into the good. i believe that the universe placed her in my life for a reason, one that i may never understand or figure out. and ill never understand why she was taken from us far too early, but i know deep down she was here for a reason. she was one of those persons in life, that you wanted to know. she left you with something each and every time you conversed or shared a moment with her." he paused to sniffle once more. he bit his lip, wiping a few tears. "before my grandmother passed on my dad's side, about 4 years ago now she had said something about maggie." he paused to smile, "my grandmother said, people will come in and out of your life, for whatever reason but only some will leave you with something to hold dearly for the rest of your life. and in the next moment, she said that i had to marry this one, that i cannot let this one go. i told her not a beat later, i had the ring. that i had had it for a few weeks at that point. that i was just waiting for the right time, and my grandmother said she felt at peace knowing that i had somebody in my life at such a young age to go through life with. she felt better knowing that i'd be loved for the rest of time, by an angel." he paused briefly before his final sentences. "she loved selflessly. she loved me without hesitation, she loved everybody selflessly even on the hard days, even when she was frustrated with the world, even when i was in a rut, she'd be there with that smile on her face that gave me butterflies from head to toe. that was the hardest thing I've had to grapple with and work through is that how could somebody that loved me and so many others, leave so soon? im afraid me nor anybody in this room will ever know that answer. but like my grandmother said, "people will come in and out of your life, for whatever reason but only some will leave you with something to hold dearly for the rest of your life". though i may not have gotten the lifetime that we vowed to one another, and one that we yearned for; i will forever hold the time, memories, and the love that we had for one another; forever." he finished, leaning away from the stand just a bit silently crying for a few seconds before wiping them away. everybody that was there, watched with sadness and despair.

mat did not deserve this. maggie did not deserve the pain that she went through. none of their inner circle deserved it either.

◦

mat went to bed most nights, in hopes of seeing maggie in his dreams. and for a long while she was there, but as time went on, his dreams turned and changed as the years went by. though, every once in a while if he saw something or heard something that reminded him of maggie, she'd plague his dreams like never before. and when he'd wake, he'd smile as his heart was a little heavy but smile because in his dreams, she was pain free and exactly who she was before cancer.

and he would always remind himself that at some point, they'd be together again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Hope you enjoyed, please like and reblog if you did (:

tags: @cuttergauthier @hockeyboysarehot @nicohischierz @fallinallincurls @bitchinbarzal @jayda12

[dawnoftime22]

a long journey.

| T.S

Warnings: a sensitive topic for some people, talk of not existing, crying (happy tears), the coming to a realization of a long journey of life, words that may prick your eyes with tears

Summary: After so long of fighting your battles, you were finally releasing everything and calming down, and you couldn't help but let out all the tears you've ever held with Taylor.

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: comfort, fluff

A/N: this was made with tears and I can't bare to proofread it so I very much apologise if it's rough on some parts<3 also! a reminder for all of you, that today is the last day for requests for taylor! I have three in the works right now on the way :]

P.S, listening to epiphany or even folklore while writing this was not a smart idea...

| Started on 02/07/2024, 8:30 PM |

| Finished on 14/07/2024, 6:25 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

seven days of comfort.

“To acknowledge yourself and anything else, that, truly, is a brave thing to do.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The wind was meeting your skin, ever so gently tracing each outline it could reach, as you let out a gentle sigh.

Over in the blue distance, you could see birds, minding their own businesses, flying in a flock, or sitting perched up by the side of a rooftop.

The crows were cawing, but the other birds were chirping. Their tunes almost match the melodies of your girlfriend's, but varying in each of their own style.

You were standing at the balcony of Taylor's apartment, leaning against the rails with your arms loosely hanging off the side, the cool air making the hair on your skin rise just slightly.

Taylor was inside, standing by the kitchen counters, preparing tea for the both of you since you had agreed on spending time outside, but not entirely leaving home.

Your eyes stare off into the sinking sun, watching it go down. Its grace held the ability to change the sky's color, mixing shades of oranges and pink.

In the peacefulness of everything, you couldn't help but let your mind stray away, but not as far that it would enter a fog you could get lost in.

There were so many memories you could remember off the top of your head. All the interactions, compliments, and gestures thats been shared across strangers and people you know.

Your breathing was steady, but as you spaced out, you noticed the way you were breathing, and now you had to do it manually as you thought about it all.

The past. The past can be a reflection, too. It can't only stay in its form of grieving for something that once was, or something that was supposed to be, but never was. You couldn't stay that way forever, because it would only lead to more broken feelings.

To let go, is to relieve yourself of everything you've longed to put down. Even the weight on your shoulders that you could never truly realize was there.

You look down in your lap. Your hands were just sitting there, instead of clutching your heart. And your legs, they weren't curled up in a vulnerable position. What reason did they have to be? To let out your emotions sure, but as of right now, living freely and relaxed is what they should be doing.

You can notice every mark and crack, left upon the walls, the coffee table, the couch, even the rust on parts of the metal rail, all being small evidences of history. Your eyes traced every single one of them.

Each turn and direction you took in your life, it all led to this. A feeling of contentment and happiness. The simple thought of how long it took you to even reach to such a point had a swell building in your throat.

With the inhale of a gentle breath, you feel your eyes starting its part of pooling all the tears it had. You tried to blink it away, but the feeling was far too overcoming, going in without a warning. Everything was coming to realization, everything thats been needing to be parted away without any more judgement.

It was like the wind running through your hair with its breeze, or the ocean waves kissing the sand onshore, slowly washing away traces of anything, and then retreating. It was washing your entire soul down, coming in to cleanse your mind.

Just as you were slowly feeling your heart spilling its pent up tiredness, the scent of newly brewed tea was filling the area, and Taylor was gently stepping out to the balcony, holding two full mugs.

She sets them down on the table that sit at the balcony, a small content smile present on her face. But then, she hears a soft sniffle beside her, and she turns her head, her expressions fading into concern.

It was then, you feel the warm tears freely run from your eyes. Her heart skips a beat, and she was thankfully mindful enough to be careful in not hitting her hand against the mugs as she quickly goes to you, stepping closer.

"Baby...hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?" Taylor whispers, her hand coming up to cradle your face, her thumb moving to gently wipe away your tears.

Her eyes saw your shining ones, and concern filled her as she wondered what could have possibly made you cry, especially since you seemed so at peace when she checked earlier.

"Nothing...I'm just..." you start, nibbling on your lips as you faced her fully. Her eyes were gentle and caring, only a hint of worry being the other thing present.

"I'm happy," you whispered. Taylor's expressions softened as she let out a breath of relief, seeing the situation come to a brighter light.

"It's just been so long since its been this good." You admitted softly with a chuckle, but sniffling once more, which causes her to bring you into a warm embrace, her own eyes brimming with tears that were threatening to fall.

She kisses your head softly, then nuzzles her face into your hair and squeeze you gently. "I'm glad, baby..." She says as she pulled back, her own voice shaking with emotion.

She's seen you go through so many things, things that not many people manage to handle, and she was so, so proud of you.

To think that it could have happened any other way, was heartbreaking to her. And with her gathered up tears in her eyes, it showed just how honest she was.

"I hope you know I love you. I care for you. And you always deserve everything good you get." She says, her hands going down to your shoulders. The gentle squeeze mixed in with her words was enough to have you fully present in the moment, if the wind on your face wasn't enough.

"Even if you don't feel like you do...please, remember that you do." Her hands went to your waist. Her aim was not only to comfort you, but to have you soak in just how special the moment of realizing how far you've gotten is.

Taylor gives you a soft smile, the one you've always seen all these years, all these years of endless tears and fears, all now being put at rest, and you couldn't help but break out into tears again with a small whimper.

"I wouldn't know where I'd be if not for you..." you shook your head gently, and Taylor's own eyes followed in their flood silently. Her heart ached, but swelled at the same time, happy that you were happy.

"I know, sweetheart..." she whispered shakingly, the back of her hand finding contact with your cheek, and you lean into the touch.

"But as much as I love that..." she took in a deep breath, seeing your nose going red at how much you're starting to cry. "You did most of it on your own, baby," she said assuringly.

"All those times you felt like you couldn't go on? You still took your steps forward no matter what, even when it was hard," her head gently moves with her words, and you had to take deep breaths so your sobs dont make it hard to hear her.

The battles you fought, the storms and chaos, that was all settling down. You were settling down. And that was all that mattered. For everything given and taken and every sigh that had left your mouth, here you were.

Taylor sniffles, her tears freely flowing, but she continues, "Some people can come by to give you a push, like me, but you made the choice to be here, to still exist with me and everyone else." She said, keeping firm eye contact with you, and you couldn't be more grateful for her.

"And if not, then I would have been heartbroken...or maybe not even met you at all, and that would have been even worse..." It was almost as if her body, being so close to yours, all your emotions were traveling over to her own heart.

"Because you're the most loving soul I've ever known." Taylor breathed out, pulling you back into a tight embrace. She can feel the tension in your body being released, letting go of everything that ever was as you sobbed softly into her chest.

"I love you," you whispered into her neck, your hands clutching onto her shirt as she held you and swayed you both lightly.

"I love you, too. So much." she returns back the whisper of love, her voice having just as much emotion as yours did.

---------------------

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[tracingpatternswrites]

Decision week pt 2 | Married at First Sight

(Read the whole thing from the beginning here)

The time has come for our couples to make their final decisions. Will they choose to stay married, or will they go their separate ways? They have come a long way in the past five weeks, and now it’s time for them to decide whether or not they want to continue on this journey together.

Welcome to Married at First Sight - the Final.

Read on AO3.

Snippet below the cut.

Sirius had been right, the house did feel empty without Remus there. It surprised him, in a way, that he had grown used to the presence of someone else so quickly. Before Remus moved in, the only experience Sirius had of living with other people, that wasn’t family, was when he and James had shared a dorm during school.

He was normally fiercely protective of his own space, and he didn’t mind spending time on his own. Whenever he wanted company he would go over to James’ and Lily’s place, he knew he was always welcome there, but one reason he loved visiting them was that he knew that at the end of the day, he could go back home.

He had been tossing and turning all night after he returned from Brighton, unable to sleep. He wondered if Remus did the same, if his mind was also buzzing with thoughts of the big decision they had coming up.

When the clock on his bedside table showed six am, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to stay in bed any longer. He made himself a coffee before heading out into the garden. He sat down in the same place where he and Remus had sat talking about their future and it felt absurd that it had only been a few days ago.

Sirius wanted to call Remus, wanted to check in on him, but they weren’t allowed to have any contact before they met at the studio to make their decision. So, instead, Sirius was left to his own thoughts, his mind whirring a mile a minute.

He was glad that Remus had asked him to come to Brighton. He felt as if he had seen one Remus here, in the house with him in London, and another one when they went up north to meet his parents. The Remus he had seen with his friends was yet another version, and now he could add Brighton Remus as a piece to the puzzle.

It had made sense to see Remus there, and it suited him to walk through the narrow lanes with the small shops and cafés and vintage boutiques. Even the flat had made sense, and Sirius honestly didn’t think that it was as bad as Remus had made it out to be. It was supposed to be a temporary thing anyway, and Sirius had seen much worse places in his youth.

He knew that he might have become a little carried away as he told Remus he could imagine living in Brighton, he was still a London boy at heart, but being close to the beach and the sea had its appeal. Especially if they were going to start a family.

That was the other thing – a family. Sirius wanted one; he wanted to do things differently and break the Black family curse of horrible parents and dysfunctional childhoods. He hadn’t thought too much of the details, he hadn’t been close enough to get what he wanted to properly consider it, but when they had talked about it he had realised it was important to him.

He knew that Remus had said that he would consider it, that he needed to think about it, but what if he decided that it wasn’t for him? Would Sirius be able to accept that, or would it be a deal breaker?

He tried to imagine how it would have felt if Remus had told him that the day before. If Remus had told him straight up that children were out of the question, would Sirius have walked away? He wasn’t sure and that scared him.

When he couldn’t put up with his own thoughts any more he pulled his phone out. It was barely gone eight but he knew that James would be up, they were both far too full of energy to sleep in. Unsurprisingly, James picked up after only two rings.

“Pads! What’s up?”

“Not much,” replied Sirius, sighing softly as he leaned back against the wall behind him. “I just– I’m back home. Alone.”

“Remus back in Brighton?” James’ voice was sympathetic. “That sucks, mate.”

“Yeah,” Sirius exhaled. “I know that we’re supposed to spend this time apart to figure out what we want but…”

He trailed off, and he heard some rustling on the other end before James’ voice came back.

“But you’re worried that thinking is going to give you, or him, cold feet?”

Sirius gave a non-committal grunt.

“I just want to call him but I know that I can’t.”

James didn’t reply straight away, there was another rustling noise and Sirius could imagine James making his way down the stairs and into the kitchen of his and Lily’s house.

“Y’know, we were thinking of going to Hampton Court for the day,” said James as Sirius heard the sound of his coffee machine on the other end of the line. “You should come with us. It’d be good for you to get out a bit, and Harry’s been asking for you.”

Sirius felt his chest tighten with affection for his best friend, grateful that James always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even before Sirius knew it himself.

“Yeah,” he said, exhaling softly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Continue on AO3.

[snowandsage]

⚠️⚠️TRIGGER WARNING: ED, body image, depression, mental illness ⚠️⚠️

I would never in a million years post something like this to any of my other social media accounts but I’m proud of myself and how far I’ve come and want to make a post. It’s likely that this will be taken down for the “inappropriate photos” and I sincerely doubt that many will take the time to read this, but oh well. I’m writing this for me.

The purpose of this post is to share my story and spread awareness as well as positivity.

My body image is something that I have struggled with for a very long time now. Since middle school, I was overly aware of how my body looked and I developed severe body dysmorphia. I refused to wear bathing suits, I cried in the dressing room whenever I went clothes shopping, and I constantly compared myself to those around me. I hated my body and the way that I looked. This obsession with my appearance and my weight continued to progress throughout high school and even college. I began working out frequently, I logged my weight and everything that I ate for years, I counted calories, I would use a tape measure to measure my waste. At 15 years old, I would sob quietly to myself while looking at my body in the mirror. I would force myself to throw up after meals or when I felt like I overindulged. I wholeheartedly hated myself.

It wasn’t until my adult years that things started to get really bad. From 2021 to late 2022, I was at my absolute worst. I was in a bad place mentally and I was feeling out of control. As unhealthy as it sounds, my eating disorder was one of the few things that helped me feel in control of my life. I began weighing myself 4-5 times every day, my hair started falling out in large clumps, I began passing out almost on a daily basis (at home, at work, in the shower, in public), I was freezing cold all the time, i was chronically fatigued, and my body hurt and ached at all times. I was refusing to eat more than one full meal a day, and that meal typically consisted of a bagel with butter. I would look up the calories in ibuprofen before taking it, I started drinking my coffee black to avoid the calories from cream, I was constantly lying to my friends and family about my eating, I wouldn’t even let myself drink carbonated water because it made me feel bloated. I was so so so sick. Within one year, I had lost a total of 50 pounds, gone down 2 bra sizes, and had no longer fit in any of my clothing. I am a 6’3” woman and was weighing in at 124lbs when I decided that I needed to make a change if I wanted to live.

In November of 2022, I decided to actively work on getting better. I threw away my scale and called my doctor to get a referral to an ED program. I was advised to go completely inpatient considering the severity of my problem.

It’s hard. Every single day of this healing process has been hard for me. I have not once weighed myself since November and have been eating normal meals again. I refuse to let myself see the calories of the things that I eat and I’m pushing myself to break all of the unhealthy “rules” that I had previously made for myself. It’s obvious that I have gained quite a bit of weight since starting this journey, and although I still struggle with that and frequently have negative thoughts… I’m recovering and I’m trying. And that is all the matters.

I’ve slowly been learning to love myself with this new and improved body and I’m proud of myself for making it this far. I promise myself that I will continue to grow and heal even on days where I want to relapse or when I feel worthless or uncomfortable in my own skin.

I just recently learned some information that caused me to really, truly think about this terrible illness and how deeply and negatively it has, and always will, affect my life. About 3 weeks ago I wound up in the emergency department with severe heart palpitations, tachycardia, and vertigo. After doing an EKG and further testing, I was diagnosed with a rare heart condition in which can cause sudden fainting, seizures, or even sudden death. Unfortunately, one of the few things that can cause this, are eating disorders, more specifically anorexia nervosa. I wanted to throw up when I heard this. I didn’t realize how badly my ED could have been affecting my health. All that ever ran through my head was that I wanted to be skinny. I wanted to be thin because I didn’t feel worthy if I wasn’t. Surely, nobody would love me or want to see me naked if I wasn’t thin. What absolutely bullshit that is. I’m heartbroken for myself and I am so sad that I ever let myself get that bad. It devastates me to think about how many other people (men, women, young, old, etc.) struggle with eating disorders every waking minute of their lives. It isn’t worth it.

Please, please, please reach out to somebody if you are struggling with an eating disorder. You are so worth it and you deserve a chance at a happy and healthy life. You are SO much more than a number on a scale.

The first 5 photos are pictures that I took when I was at my unhealthiest and the remaining pictures are recent.

[mosneakers]

Weeks have passed, and after an eventful summer, Coraleye has been doing her best to attend her last year in University. Unlike her previous years, however, she doesn't have Mira or the rest of her crew by her side, and life is really starting to get her down. Needing to talk to someone, she invites her friend Sid out for coffee and a study session.

Sid: Well hello, you! Thanks for the coffee. I haven't heard from you in a while... How's it going? Coraleye: Oh you know... It's going, ha. I'm sorry, I haven't had much time for friends or sprites or anything I'd planned on doing this semester, honestly.

Sid: Hey, no... No need to apologize. You've got a lot going on right now. Loads of homework, drama back home, and... [frowns] ... your poor granddad. How is Seymour, by the way? Any better?

Coraleye: Well... He's been able to talk some. But my mom is saying he doesn't have much more time with us, and here I am, on the other side of the world for [gestures at stacks of books on table] THIS. I should be spending the little bit of time he has left with him. Sid: Well I'm sure he'd want this for you, Cor.

Coraleye: Well, that's the only reason I'm putting in the effort. I don't want to be in Britechester right now. I just wish-

Coraleye hunches over, her face dropping into her palms. Coraleye: [Voice cracks] I just wish I could be stronger for him.

Sid sympathetically pats Coraleye on the back for moral support.

Sid: You don't have to be strong, Corie. You've got me, and your other Britechester friends, and your family, all here to lift you up. And your wife, right?

Coraleye: [Sigh] Yeah... you're right. I mean, Mira has decided to prolong her honeymoon with Starling through the rest of the year. She said she'd be right here if I needed her, I just don't want to intrude. It's true though, I have a wonderful support system to get me through this. I guess I'm just overwhelmed and exhausted, and I'm miles and miles away from-

Sid: Let me guess... Mr. Curious?

Coraleye blushes and quickly covers her face to hide it. Coraleye: [Shrugs] Maybe...

🌕Momo's Note: Hello friends! Just wanted to ramble for a bit here. I'm starting to feel a bit better so I was hoping to get back into storytelling here soon, hence this update♥ Unfortunately, I'm starting to feel like I really need to do a cc/mod overhaul. It takes far too long to load the game, there's a lot that's broken for me, and I honestly just need a fresh start. I have a HUGE unorganized journey ahead of me though, and I'm still not too certain how I'm going to tackle it, so the blog will most certainly be a lot slower when it comes to updates and activity. I have a few more posts I could make from previous screenshots, but after that it may be a while before you see daily posts again. In the meantime, please feel free to send OC asks or look back on any posts you may have missed prior. I'll be here if you need me, and thank you so much for your patience 💕

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Saturn: *sprawled out on a bed made for humans, legs hanging halfway on the bed as she sleeps*

Auryen: *steps out of his room into his employee barracks* Saturn? Time to get up, dear girl.

Saturn: Mmmnnngh.. *groans, turning on her side* Five more minutes..

Auryen: You said that an hour ago. Breakfast is ready.

Saturn: *opens her eyes blearily, turning to look at her uncle with a frown* Didja make omelettes?

Auryen: Of course.

Saturn: ... Coming.

~

Saturn: *stares into the mirror of the bathing room in shock, her messy hair and smudged make-up on full display* Good Gods, I've got some work to do. Cog. *snaps her fingers, a dwemer spider materializing on the counter. It opens its inner compartment to reveal a travel-sized make-up set* Thank you, ma' little darling. How on earth would I survive without you?

~

Auryen: *eyes Saturn curiously, sipping his coffee while she wolfs down her food* How have things been at the Embassy?

Saturn: *scoffs* Horrible. It's like the other guards don't even know I exist. I'm made to always stay at my mother's side, if I'm not at m' forge. I'd rather never go back.

Auryen: Abandoning the Thalmor is a death wish.

Saturn: They wish they could kill me.

Auryen: Ha. Well, I won't turn my own blood away. I'm sure your father would have been proud of you for making your own decisions.

Saturn: ... Right.

Auryen: You'll have to earn your keep, though.

Saturn: I know, uncle. I didn't come here expecting to put yourself at risk and keep me for nothin'.

Auryen: I know you didn't. I have actually been in need of some help with this museum here. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know, especially after I hung up my sword.

Saturn: Truly a tragedy.

Auryen: Hush, you.

Saturn: *glancing around at the museum* ... This place is filthy.

Auryen: You have no problem with filth.

Saturn: Yes, but for a museum- *summons four Dwemer Gynoids* These will follow your command and clean the place. As long as you treat them well, they won't stage a revolt.

Auryen: A revolt?!

Saturn: Yes, that's a reason I didn't want to let my mothers soldiers control them. They would no doubt treat them horribly and override their wellbeing protocols.

Auryen: I.. see.

Saturn: Either way, write a list of artifacts you would like me to retrieve to start with, if any. I'm going to see if the local smith has a proper sword and armor for me aside from.. These ugly things. *gestures to her Thalmor Robes*

Auryen: I wouldn't count on that.

Saturn: Doesn't hurt to try.

~

Saturn: ... This is your biggest greatsword.

Beirand: Yes.

Saturn: *exactly twice his height, holding the greatsword like a regular sword* You're joking.

Beirand: My swords aren't tailored to.. people like you.

Saturn: People like me.

Beirand: Aye. You know what I mean.

Saturn: Your swords are not catered to High Elves. That's rather bigoted for a smith of the Empire, don'tcha think?

Beirand: Call it what you want. I don't have anything for you.

Saturn: Hmph. Fine.

~

Auryen: I told you.

Saturn: *pacing angrily* That is tusking ridiculous!

Auryen: Language.

Saturn: How on earth am I supposed to get any proper armor if the only smith within twenty miles doesn't even cater to High Elves??

Auryen: *sighs* You could probably try the smith in Markarth. An orcish girl by the name of Ghorza gra-Bagol. She'd surely make something for you.

Saturn: Markarth?

Auryen: If you take a carriage, you could make it there in a day's time.

Saturn: Ugh, carriages are so uncomfortable. I'll just walk.

Auryen: That could take days.

Saturn: Good. I've been cooped up in the Embassy for years with no knowledge of what Skyrim even looks like. A journey will be good for me.

Auryen: ... Oh, alright. Since you're leaving, I've compiled a list of certain items I've been looking for. Treasure hunters and mercenaries can only go so far. And here- *hands her the list and a sack of gold* For the smith. Don't expect anymore payment until you return with those artifacts.

Saturn: This is already more than enough. Thank you, uncle.

Auryen: *nods, a sad smile crossing his face* Please be careful, Saturn. Stay out of trouble

Saturn: Ha. Trouble? *waves as she turns, leaving the museum* I can never stay out of trouble.

[abarbaricyalp]

Hi! If you're still taking Whumptober 2022 prompts: no. 26 No one left behind-"Why did you save me?" for Sambucky, please and thanks?

Hello, friend!! I am very sorry about the delay on this. Also [I'm interrupting myself to say I feel so bad asking for prompts because I'm always like "weeeeeell, I went in a slightly different direction"] I went in a slightly direction. It's Sam/Riley with Sam & Bucky. It's also sad.

Rated T // 10.2k words // AO3 Link

Stained

“Hey, Redwing,” Sam called, pulling up in his flight. “You seein’ this?”

Riley circled back around to Sam, scanning the ground below them. Even without the goggles, they’d be able to spot the figure. They were dressed in all black, stumbling through the sand in something like a daze, which wasn’t uncommon. Sam and Riley ran into a lot of heat exhaustion victims. Something on the figure’s arm kept glistening in the sun. Sam had thought they’d had a weapon of some kind, but it was too polished, too large to be anything he was familiar with.

“Target?” Riley asked, but Sam could tell from his voice he didn’t really think it was their target. Sam thought about swiping over the image of their target as a silent ‘compare for yourself’ kind of gesture.

But the figure was covered head to toe, including over his face, as far as Sam could tell. There was no way to tell who they were or what their business in the desert was. Sam and Riley would have to go investigate to make sure this lone person wasn’t involved in anything their team needed to be aware of.

“We should watch him before making contact,” Sam decided. “Pull back a little. It’s a clear day. He may spot us if we keep too tight on him.”

“Roger that,” Riley agreed and looped further back in the direction they’d just come.

Here was another thing about this job: it was really difficult to tail someone who wasn’t moving. If Sam was on the ground, he might’ve stopped for some coffee, found a newspaper to read, kicked around a milk crate in an alley. Up in the sky, there was nothing to do. He wondered if he could convince someone to put sudoku on the wristlets. That should be Riley’s next project.

The figure on the ground was clearly lost or, at least, disoriented. They seemed to have a good enough head on their shoulders to not be panicking, but they definitely weren’t making any headway in their journey. For every quarter mile they trudged, they seemed to regret the decision, turned around, and started back the other way. Up in the air, a quarter mile was nothing. Sam was about to get nauseous from the spinning back and forth.

“I’m callin’ it, Falcon,” Riley said. “If we wait much longer, they’re gonna pass out.”

Sam sighed and then nodded. “Copy. I’ll follow you down.”

They landed in front of the figure, who had pulled off whatever had been on his face at some point. The goggles weren’t great at details like that. Sam had just assumed it was a sandmask. The man was…compact might be the best word. Muscular, but in a lithe way. Like a rock climber. Or someone who wasn’t eating.

“Hey, man, you got water?” Riley asked. Ever the pararescue, never the brute force. “You’re looking a little disoriented. Heat stroke is easy to ignore.”

The man did look confused. His blue eyes were darting between Sam and Riley like a rabbit caught in a trap, but when he dared to look away from them, he never ran. His brows just pinched in and he’d take a noncommittal step forward or back. Still unsure what direction he wanted to go.

“Hey, I’ve got a Pik. Will you drink for me?” Riley asked again, trying to draw the man’s attention to a fixed point. He had the hose nozzle to his water-pik in his hand, offering it out to the man as he tried to pull out as much of the tube as possible.

The man looked to Sam. “Hey, the sooner you do what he asks, the sooner he’ll stop talking,” Sam encouraged, gesturing for the nozzle.

Tentatively, the man stepped forward and took the nozzle, putting it between his lips and taking a long pull from it. Sam hated these things. He’d hated them in high school and he hated them now. They took more effort to use than they were worth. But this strange man in the desert seemed to be with the program, at least. Sam watched his throat bob with each swallow, kept count because he knew too much water at one time could be bad for a dehydration victim too.

“Rye,” he said in warning after a few minutes.

Riley put his hand on the man’s shoulder and gently pulled the Pik away from him. “More of that in a bit,” he promised. Both he and Sam were braced for a fight, but the man only took several steps back and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

Then Sam realized what he’d seen from the air wasn’t a weapon or something he was carrying. The glinting thing was the man’s arm. What kind of prosthetic was that? Sam had never seen anything like it. The sun was shining off of it blindingly and the man was taking great care not to use it, so Sam wasn’t sure how it worked. If it was one of the fancier, integrated systems or something like Miles, a buddy of his and Riley’s, had ended up with after their first tour, where he usually used his other hand to close his prosthetic fingers around whatever he wanted.

It had to be uncomfortable in this heat.

“Can you tell us your name?” Sam asked.

“They call me Soldier,” the man said. His voice was heavy and thick. There was some kind of accent, but Sam couldn’t place it.

“Story of our lives,” Riley agreed. “But what’s your name?”

The man frowned again, the same furrow coming to his brow. At least if he ran, Sam and Riley would be able to catch him. “I am called the Soldier.”

[owl-with-a-pen]

Could you write something about what happened in the aftermath of the Flash episode? Like the team coming back and hearing about what happened, and maybe Nia talking to the first Dreamer. Thank you!

Okay so this is more just Nia telling Brainy, but I hope you enjoy. 😉

After a quick pit-stop at Central City’s Jitters – as recommended by one Iris West-Allen - the journey home passed Nia in nothing more than a caffeine-induced blur.

She hadn’t exactly planned on indulging in quite as much coffee to start with, but what she’d seen of Iris’s dream had piqued her curiosity. She could say one thing for certain: things ran far smoother in the real world’s Jitters, one where Barry Allen was safe and sound behind a hero’s mask and not a barista counter.

Nia wasn’t sure what time she got back to the apartment that night, but that wasn’t important to her. Besides, sleep was definitely not an option right now. She’d been practically buzzing since her last espresso shot and, while the come down would not be pretty, it was more than worth it to be awake for when Brainy got home.

The second she heard the tell-tale click in the lock, she was already on her feet and had Brainy pulled into a hug long before he could get a step through the front door. She melted into the crook of his throat the moment she was in his arms, breathing him in. He still smelled like the nano fibres that made up his super suit, which probably meant he’d disengaged it just seconds before touching down. They must have only arrived back on Earth in the last hour.

Brainy’s hands were quick to wind around Nia’s back, linking together at the base of her spine. She grinned into his shoulder before tipping her chin up to greet him. “Hey.”

“Nia.” Brainy spoke her name in one long exhale, the warmth of his breath prickling pleasantly across her cheek. Through it, she could hear that mark of relief that always accompanied her name whenever they’d been apart for too long, a habit neither one of them had been willing to break ever since Brainy’s recall to the future.

There was something different in his tone this time, though, something extra. A shift of unease that could only really mean one thing.

Crap. He knew.

Nia pulled away from him enough to see her boyfriend’s expression in full, which only confirmed her fears. Her face fell immediately. “Who told you?”

Brainy’s dark eyes held her firmly. “No one had to tell us anything. The Tower received twelve identical distress calls from Team Flash in the span of two hours.”

Nia groaned. “I had a feeling you were gonna say that.” Before Brainy could respond, she turned away from him, padding over to the kitchen. “You know what I think? Barry jumps the gun to panic way too quickly.” She plucked Brainy’s favourite mug from the drying rack, forcing a laugh over her shoulder. “Speedsters, am I right?”

Brainy didn’t say anything. In fact, he kept silent even while Nia poured him a share from the still warm coffee pot on the counter. The longer the silence remained unbroken, the more certain she became that they were going to need something a whole lot stronger to get through this conversation.

Finally, Brainy shifted in the doorway. She listened to his hesitant footfalls as he walked without urgency to the other side of the breakfast bar. She sighed, tapping the edge of his mug idly before pushing it out towards him.

“Nia,” Brainy said again, making no move to take it. There wasn’t any real anger in his voice, only a wary concern bred from everything she’d yet to tell him. He didn’t need to say anything else; she could read between the lines.

“I’m fine, Brainy,” she insisted. “I swear, okay? Actually, I’m a lot better than fine.” She smiled up at him then, unable to hide her own excitement. “I have so much I want to tell you.”

Brainy’s eyes flickered restlessly across her face, a look she recognised all too well. She’d definitely caught herself doing it to Brainy on more than one occasion. It was that final once over you gave your partner after a fight or on patrol, the one to make sure there were no cuts or bruises, no cleverly disguised signs of injury.

Her smile softened when Brainy finally relaxed. His hand grazed over hers as he took the mug from the counter. Nodding reservedly, he gestured towards the sofa. “Then, by all means.”

For the next hour, all Nia did was talk. She tried to stick to a somewhat chronological account of events, even if that was a little hard considering half of them had happened in the dream realm. Brainy sat silently at her side, drinking in every word with expect focus. He didn’t interject once throughout the story, although she did catch him twisting his ring particularly hard whenever she mentioned the parts about her nightmare vision, or at least what she’d thought had been a nightmare at the time.

After she’d finished, she realised that the wariness in Brainy’s demeanour had been replaced with total fascination. His eyes practically glittered with it. He’d stuck strictly to his side of the sofa for most of the story, but as she’d neared the end, he’d shuffled in closer, enough that their shoulders were nearly touching.

A breath caught in Nia’s throat as Brainy reached out, his fingers tracing a delicate pathway along the lines of her jaw and cheekbone where the Naltorian symbols had glowed the most prominently. She was sure there were no signs of them now she was back in the waking world, and yet Brainy touched upon their exact placement without any foreknowledge to guide him.

“Extraordinary,” he murmured, his voice soft with awe. “And you can see this… ancient Naltorian? Right now?” He straightened suddenly, eyes darting vigilantly about the room.

Nia snorted, covering her mouth. God, she’d missed him. “She isn’t always here,” she admitted. “But, uh, for the record…” She nodded over to the bedroom door where the first Dreamer had been stood watching over them for some time. She, too, had shown a great reverence in Nia’s recounting of events, smiling openly throughout as though to encourage her.

Brainy pointed bluntly in the direction Nia had referenced. “There?”

Nia bit her lip, taking Brainy’s arm and gently guiding it until his hand had crossed over the first Dreamer’s exact location. “There,” she said.

Brainy’s eyes lit up. He turned his full attention to that spot, bowing his head in a way that was equal parts respectful and adorkable.  

The first Dreamer also looked amused.

Nia smiled. “I think she likes you.”

Brainy lifted his head. “She does?”

 “Definitely. Maybe we can arrange a proper meet sometime in the dream realm.”

“I would be honoured,” Brainy said earnestly. He turned back to her, eyes wide. “This step you have taken in your pursuit to unlock the fullest extent of your abilities, it is astounding, Nia, truly. I am so glad you have finally been able to achieve it.”

“Yeah,” Nia said, rolling her eyes. “And all I had to do was stop trying to control everything.”

“You would be surprised how rarely a person is able to relinquish such control.” Brainy’s lips twitched fondly. “It is a particularly stubborn state of mind that extends to most intelligent lifeforms.”

“Even the most intelligent?” Nia teased.

“Especially the most intelligent,” Brainy returned gravely. He placed his hand across her knee, leaning in close. “How do you feel?”

Nia’s breath sharpened at the question. It was kind of silly, but up until then, she hadn’t really stopped to think about it. She closed her eyes, letting the rest of her breath ease slowly through her teeth as she considered her answer. “Like… my blood’s fizzing, but in a good way.” She chuckled lightly, flexing her hands out in front of her. “For that short time I couldn’t access my powers, I felt so strange, like the easiest thing in the world had suddenly become so hard. And… when they came back, it didn’t exactly feel as easy as it had before.” She frowned, opening her eyes. “Does that make sense?”

Brainy smiled knowingly. “As I understand it, that suggests your Naltorian ancestor has much she wishes to teach you.”

“And I intend to learn, believe me,” Nia said, feeling the first Dreamer’s watchful eyes on her, the calm fondness that seemed to radiate from that corner of the room. “But it does feel good, Brainy. I feel more powerful than ever.” Nia glanced down at her hands, willing a burst of dream energy through her bracelets. They lit up her fingers with such vibrancy, webbing between them like buzzing blue veins. “I thought I had a pretty good handle on turning this stuff into just about anything.” She clenched her hands together again, letting the energy disperse as quickly as it had appeared. She grinned. “Now I know that, before, I was barely scraping the surface of what these powers can do. I can’t wait to try them out.” Before she could say any more, a yawn claimed her and Nia reached for her mouth with a grimace. “Ugh, but that can wait ‘til tomorrow. Despite the whole being in a coma for most of the day thing, I’m exhausted.”

“Then rest,” Brainy said, kissing her cheek. He brushed his nose against hers before pulling away, squeezing her knee tight. “You have more than earned it.”

Nia sighed – that was certainly true. As she stood to stretch, she could feel a little of that buzz from the coffee swarm in the back of her head, although it could have just as easily been a trill from her newly developed powers. Her Naltorian metabolism would have the caffeine out of her system in no time, but the rest? She supposed she’d just have to get used to it.

As she headed to the bedroom alongside Brainy, she found herself passing by the first Dreamer once again. A tingle ran down her spine at such close proximity to the entity, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

When Nia was sure Brainy was out of earshot, she turned to the first Dreamer in earnest, clasping her hands in front of her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything you’ve shown me, for everything else you’re gonna show me, but uh… for now?” She winced awkwardly. “Could we, um, get a little privacy, maybe?”

The first Dreamer’s smile broadened and she bowed her head in a similar fashion to Brainy’s initial greeting. She left without fanfare - one blink and she was gone.

Well, not gone, exactly. Nia knew that whether she could see the first Dreamer or not, a part of her would always remain within herself. In fact, that part had always been there.

She just hadn’t been looking hard enough before.

[brainfuzzz]

Old Truths Ch. 6 "Freedom Part 1"

Yep, another Crocodile learns that he's Luffy's mother fic because why not? Also, I'm making him the Snake Princess before Hancock because I'm already in Crocomom hell so why not pile on more to it, right? Expect a reunion with Dragon as Crocodile goes on a journey for the truth and eventually finds peace Also, I would like to just clarify that while writing backstory I refer to Crocodile as Crocodile during monologues. Since we don't know Crocodile's dead name (assuming Oda actually makes all these headcanons true) I didn't want to just make one up. So, in dialogue I try to avoid anyone referring to him with a name (besides Dragon calling him Sir as a little poke to his current name, Sir Crocodile LOL) but I keep the name Crocodile when he refers to himself in thought to simplify things.

            Crocodile sips what must be his fourth cup of coffee, while locking eyes with Daz from across the deck. The afternoon sun shines high in the sky with little to no cloud cover to provide any relief from its scorching heat. Daz stands with his arms crossed, frowning at his boss as beads of sweat roll down the sides of his face, never moving from his spot. They’ve been like this for hours. A few of the pet crocodiles took notice but lost interest almost immediately and left to sunbathe. The largest of the five, stays by Crocodile’s side, sleeping in the shade of his chair. Crocodile sets his cup down and leans against the back rest when he feels sweat drip between his shoulder blades. 

            “Just go to bed.” Daz says when Crocodile’s concentration slips, letting his head bob down before jerking it back up.

            “I don’t need you mothering me.” Crocodile crosses his arms, mimicking Daz’s frown. They return to silent staring. He’s not sure when they started this childish standoff, but one thing is for sure, neither is backing down.  

            They probably could have gone on like that till sundown if it weren’t for a splashing sound coming from the port side of the ship. Daz is the first to pull his eyes away to see what’s causing the noise. Glad for the momentary ceasefire, Crocodile gets to his feet—pausing when everything starts to spin—and crosses over to inspect the noise.

He smiles when a familiar sight approaches the ship. He calls down, “Hawkeye.”

The warlord lounges in his ridiculously small ship, staring back at him, “Crocodile? You look like hell.”

Crocodile feels Daz’s eyes turn on him, but he just waves him away. “Why don’t you come on up? I’ll pour you a drink.”

 “That depends. How many crocodiles do you have on deck at the moment?” Hawkeye raises a brow.

Crocodile glances down at the five creatures crawling around the deck, each growing more curious and hissing with excitement at the sound of another person. He turns back to Hawkeye and says, “No more than usual.”

Hawkeye considers this for a moment before leaping up onto the deck while Daz secures his ship. Hawkeye takes in the five reptiles, shaking his head with a sigh as he follows Crocodile into the captain’s quarters. Crocodile pours two glasses of wine and hands one to him. 

“So,” Crocodile says once they’re seated, “I assume everything at Marineford has officially wrapped up?”

Hawkeye swirls the wine gently in his glass, “You assume correct.”

“I was surprised to see you so obedient. Very unlike you.” The battle is still vivid in his mind. If he thinks about it for too long, he can still feel the vibrations racing up his left arm from where they had collided. Hawkeye gives a tired sigh and rests his head against his propped fist.

“If I hadn’t, they could have revoked my status as a warlord. I did my part and now they can leave me alone.” He takes a sip of his wine before staring across at Crocodile. “Besides, your actions were far more surprising than my own.”

Crocodile stays silent and takes a larger sip of his wine. He savors the rich full flavor until he realizes how fast it puts him in a fuzzy haze. He slowly lowers the glass, realizing he hasn’t eaten anything today. Or last night for that matter. 

“Care to explain why you protected Straw Hat?” Hawkeye doesn’t take his eyes off Crocodile, studying his movement and expression with a deep severity.

“Do you really want to know?” Crocodile meets his gaze, challenging him to press further. Finally, Hawkeye turns away.

“I suppose not.”

This was one of the reasons why he and Hawkeye got along so well. They didn’t prod into each other’s business. Unlike Moria who likes to flaunt his plans and prod others into revealing their own. Or Doflamingo who dances around the subject, dangling it in front of you like a carrot. He wants to draw you in, make you curious, all while never revealing a thing. He pisses Crocodile off the most. Kuma and Jinbei have never interested him, and Boa… well, he usually steers clear of her. Hawkeye is the only warlord he’s ever been able to tolerate. He’s silently glad their confrontation at Marineford hasn’t changed that.    

After a moment, Crocodile says, “So, I suppose you’ll be heading back to that morbid island of yours?”

Hawkeye pauses mid drink and says, “My island is not morbid.”

“Right,” Crocodile chuckles into his glass, “And I’m not made of sand.”

“If you must know, I am looking forward to some peace and quiet. On my completely normal island.” Hawkeye straightens in his seat.

“You’ve been gone for awhile now. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone moved in while you were away.” Crocodile grins when he grimaces.

“Please do not say that. You might accidently manifest it into existence.” He frowns deeper than usual and rubs the spot just above his brow.

Crocodile continues to chuckle until Daz steps into the open doorway and says, “Boss, we have an issue near the bow.”  

Crocodile sets his glass down and pushes himself out of his chair. He walks out onto the deck, cringing away from the intense heat he had momentarily forgotten and crosses towards the bow, searching for any sign of trouble. One of the pet crocodiles stares at him as he stands at the front of the ship, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“Daz, what issue were you…” he trails off when he realizes that Daz never followed him out of the room. He looks back towards the open door of the captain’s quarter and spots Daz speaking with Hawkeye. He watches Hawkeye’s expression change from a frown, to arching a brow, to a curious grin, until he laughs and nods before eerily smiling in Crocodile’s direction.

“Daz,” Crocodile glares at him when he returns to the room. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, sir. Must have been my eyes playing tricks on me.” Daz shrugs his shoulders and leaves Crocodile standing in the doorway. Crocodile shuts the door, eager to keep the heat and Daz out.

Hawkeye gives a chuckle while refilling their glasses and says, “Come, sit and drink with me.”

Crocodile takes his seat, eyeing Hawkeye suspiciously. He’s smiling, something the man rarely does. Unable to justify a reason to doubt him, Crocodile takes his glass and takes another sip. The wine immediately rushes to his head, making him slouch with his head propped by his hand. Before he can finish what he already has, Hawkeye is refilling his glass.

“You’re suddenly in a good mood.” Crocodile says, noticing the slight slur in his words. Hawkeye frowns, tilting his head as if he hadn’t noticed.

He tops off his glass and relaxes back into his chair, “Am I? It must be because I’m glad that the whole Marineford business is behind us. Cheers.”

He clinks his glass with Crocodile’s and takes a sip. Crocodile does the same, taking a bigger sip then he had intended. Before he knows it, his glass is empty and Hawkeye is refilling it once again. Crocodile holds up a finger, prompting Hawkeye to pause.

“Is that a different bottle of wine?” He struggles to point at the bottle in Hawkeye’s hand. Hawkeye looks down at the vintage and shakes his head.

“Now, don’t tell me you’re already drunk? When did you become such a light weight, Crocodile?” Hawkeye arches a brow with a slight grin. That grin pisses Crocodile off, prompting him to down his glass almost immediately. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as his head and body feel 10 times heavier. Hawkeye tilts his head, “Not looking so good there. Perhaps you should lye down. Take a nap.”

Suddenly, it clicks. This is why Daz came up with a bullshit reason for Crocodile to leave the room so he could get Hawkeye in on… he rests his forehead in his hand, suddenly too exhausted to even think. His thoughts are scrambling. He can barely focus on why he was so angry just a second ago. Arms are hoisting him out of the chair and dragging him to the bed. Daz and Hawkeye heave his drunken body onto the lumpy mattress while he tries to remember when Daz entered the room.

“Traitor.” Crocodile mumbles when his head feels like its doing somersaults. Hawkeye and Daz exchange a look, each wondering who that was directed toward.

“You need to sleep. It’s been days.” Daz says, reiterating what he’s already told him several times before.

Hawkeye gives a sigh, “Honestly Crocodile. Try not to be such a trouble to your single crewmate. Though this has been quite amusing.”

“Thank you.” Daz gives a slight bow to Hawkeye who shakes his head.

“No, thank you. The wine was delicious. But I must be off now. Until next time, Crocodile. Maybe next time you’ll be well rested.” Hawkeye chuckles as he turns away.

“I hope your island is covered in tourists!” Crocodile snarls but it does little to stop the other man from laughing.

Daz looks back down at Crocodile, “Forgive me, but this is for the best.”

Crocodile wants to hurl a threat at him but he’s unable to get the words out. Eventually he’s the only one in the room. Everything spins around him and with no more strength remaining, he fell into a deep sleep. Sleep that forced him to relive his past.    

*

It had been hot that day too. Crocodile remembers squinting up at the sun, wondering how it could be even hotter within the city walls. He walked through the bustling streets with the Kuja warriors surrounding him as a layer of protection. Whether he liked it or not, they always accompanied him when he left Amazon Lily. The people cowered when they saw them, their infamy spreading even this far across the Grand Line. As he walked, he glanced down at the invitation sitting heavy in his hand. The second they left the Calm Belt; they discovered a Navy ship waiting for them. He had almost ordered his warriors to sink the ship until he noticed a Vice Admiral waving a white flag. It had intrigued him enough to spare their lives and get close enough to receive the invitation. He brushed his thumb across the blue words neatly pressed into the thick expensive paper. Granny Nyon had strongly advised against coming here, which was all he needed to convince himself to come. But still, now that he was here, he wondered if it was such a good idea after all.

When they approached the building where the event was taking place, a marine stopped them.

“Your invitation, please.” He held his rifle in front of him. A subtle reminder that this was anything but a friendly visit. Crocodile handed the invitation over and the marine stepped to the side. When the other Kuja warriors tried to follow, the marine stepped back in the way.

“What is the meaning of this!” Granny Nyon had stamped her cane on the ground angrily.

“Only the Snake Empress may enter. You must wait out here.” He had said it so naturally that even Crocodile commended his bravery.

“Absolutely nyot!” Granny Nyon looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel. Crocodile had grinned and waved them away.

“It’s fine. Wait here.” He had happily left his entourage in the blazing heat as he went on alone.

He had never realized how suffocating it would be being the Empress. It’s not like he ever actually tried out for the position. It had been thrust upon him when he proved himself to be the most skilled fighter. At first, he had been pleased to hear the news, after all, the Empress may leave Amazon Lily whenever they wish. He had first thought it would mean freedom. But now he wished he could go back in time and punch himself in the face for thinking that. This isn’t freedom. It’s being paraded around in an invisible cage.

A different marine had led him into the building and guided him to a waiting room. The dome shaped room was large and dimly lit with several large couches curving along the walls. Crocodile paused when the dark outlines filling the room revealed to be famous pirate captains.

“Please wait here. They’ll call you when they’re ready.” The marine had bowed and turned away.

“Ready for what?” He asked but the marine was already gone. Fighting irritation, he moved to claim an open spot on the couch closest to him. He sunk into the overly soft cushions, slightly wishing he had opted to stand against the wall instead. He could feel the eyes of those around him bore into his skin. Crossing his arms over his chest, he frowned, determined not to be intimidated by these fools.

“Hey, isn’t that the Snake Princess?” a deep moronic voice pierced his ears. Two large men approach him, each with hungry perverted eyes. Crocodile set his jaw, already struggling to contain his anger.

“No, she’s wearing too much to be from Amazon Lily! You’ve seen what they wear.” They both laugh disgustingly to each other. They plop down onto the couch beside him, one on each side. Their weight puffs the cushion up under him, causing him to struggle to keep from leaning to either side. They both stretch an arm across the backrest, letting their stench clog his nostrils, nearly making him gag.

“Well, we can change that.” The one on his left grins, exposing crooked yellow teeth. Crocodile grits his teeth, ready to coat his arms in armament haki and take these assholes out. But just as he’s about to do it, the man on his left stiffens.

“Hey, what’s going on?” the man asked as his arm twitches while awkwardly extending away from his body.

“What are you doing?” the other man asked, clearly annoyed by this behavior.

“I don’t know! I’m not doing this!” the man yelled just before his arm bent and hurled his own fist into his face. The man fell to the floor leaving everyone in the room shocked. The other man got to his feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” But the second the words are out of his mouth; he stiffened just like the other one had. Crocodile watched, both amused and startled by what was unfolding before him. Just like the other man, this one watched in horror as his limbs betrayed him and sent a powerful punch to his face. When both men are unconscious on the floor, Crocodile grinned, trying to keep his composure before bursting out in laughter. Everyone in the room stared at him, some shocked, others deadly serious.

“Did she do that?” someone whispered.

“That was unreal.” Another murmured within the shadows of the room. When he’s able to stop laughing, he ran a hand over his hair and glanced around the room. So far, no one seems capable of pulling something like that off, that is until he locked eyes with a man directly across the room from him. He leaned against the only window with the light pouring over his tall frame. Crocodile got to his feet, stepped over the fools on the floor, and crossed over to him. The man was tall and with Crocodile being 8’3, that’s saying something. The man gave a wide grin and side stepped, making room for Crocodile to stand at his side.

“I didn’t need your help,” Crocodile said once he was leaning against the wall.

The man gave a low chuckle, “Oh that, I’m sure. But I hope you’ll forgive me. Filth like that doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as us. So, I did the only right thing to do, and took them out.”

Crocodile smirked, “Next time you should snap their necks.”

This made the man grin wider and give another deep laugh. Crocodile relaxed his shoulders and took in the stranger next to him. Unlike the rest of the trash here, this man wore a tailored suit that was free of any wrinkles or stains. His expensive cologne hung in the air, tempting Crocodile to lean in closer. Everything about him was impeccable. From his polished shoes, clean cut jawline, to even the pink feathered coat hanging from his shoulders. It was clear that this man was in a class above the rest.

The man extended his large hand to him and said, “The names Don Quixote Doflamingo, a pleasure.”

Crocodile stared at his extended hand before crossing his arms and staring out towards the room.

“So, how’d you pull something like that off?” he nodded his head towards the two men still unconscious on the floor. Doflamingo slowly curled the fingers on his extended hand closed and then turned his hand with his palm facing down, bending every other finger.

He leaned in closer and said, “I’ve got magic fingers.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes and said, “A devil fruit then.”

“Bingo.” Doflamingo retracted his hand and slipped it into his pocket. He doesn’t explain what type of devil fruit he’s eaten, and Crocodile doesn’t ask. They stood against the wall, both conscious of the other but never fully turning their gaze in the other’s direction.

When the door across from where they entered opens, a marine stepped out and said, “Don Quixote Doflamingo. We would like to start with you.”

Doflamingo grinned and stepped away from the wall, “My, how lucky of me.”

He didn’t look back at Crocodile as he stalked over to the marine and disappeared behind the doors. With Doflamingo gone, the room felt dull and empty. Crocodile leaned against the wall, ignoring his restlessness. Time seemed to crawl after that. When Doflamingo exited the room, he was laughing that low laugh of his. He never even glanced Crocodile’s direction before leaving the dome room. Crocodile frowned down at the tile floor not sure why that pissed him off as much as it did. He was almost grateful when they finally called his name. He frowned while pushing himself away from the wall, eager to get this over with.

Once inside the smaller room, Crocodile frowned deeper. An Admiral sat behind a desk with a Vice Admiral standing next to him. The Admiral had a serious set in frown while the Vice Admiral munched on rice crackers, looking bored.

“Snake Empress, please, have a seat.” The Admiral gestured to the seat in front of his desk. Crocodile approached it slowly and sat. “I am Admiral Sengoku; this is Vice Admiral Garp. We’ll be conducting this interview.”

Crocodile let out a snort, “Interview? An interview for what?”

“All will be revealed in time.” Sengoku had frowned down at the papers on his desk. Apparently, he didn’t like this idea anymore then Crocodile did. Crocodile rested deeper into the chair. He propped his right ankle on his left knee while digging into his coat pocket. He pulled out a cigar and slipped it between his lips.

“Got a light?” he glanced up at Sengoku.

“I’d prefer it if you don’t smoke.” The vein near his right temple twitched.

“Fine,” Crocodile shrugged and lit the cigar himself. He took a deep draw, taking in the smoky rich flavor before letting out a large cloud of smoke. Sengoku bald his hands into fists, crinkling the papers beneath them. Crocodile smiled, “Please, go on.”

By the time the interview was over, Crocodile had managed to make the vein in Sengoku’s right temple throb more than 20 times. He even managed to make Vice Admiral Garp laugh so hard that he nearly choked on his rice crackers, making Sengoku’s face flush red. He left with a smile while Sengoku rubbed his temple, drained from their interaction. The interview had consisted of a series of questions, all involving Crocodile’s past run-ins with pirates. There was nothing that the Navy didn’t already know, so instead of answering the questions, he opted to either keep silent or answer with a lie so apparent that even the most naive would be able to sniff it out. Ultimately, this had been a waste of everyone’s time.

Crocodile let out another stream of smoke as he rubbed the back of his neck while walking towards the doors exiting the dome room. He wasn’t ready to rejoin the Kuja warriors. While the interview with the Navy had been annoying, it still didn’t measure to the constant nagging that comes from Granny Nyon. When he stepped through the doors to the lobby of the building, he caught a whiff of Doflamingo’s cologne.

“So, how was it?” his voice brings Crocodile to a stop. He glanced over his shoulder to see the man leaning against a wall, waiting for him. Crocodile wanted to kick himself in that moment because the fact that Doflamingo had waited for him, actually made him happy.

“Pointless,” Crocodile had half turned towards him, keeping his expression neutral. Doflamingo grinned while stepping towards him.

“Naturally, but my instincts tell me that this could be the start of something promising. So don’t go brushing it off just yet.” He stops with his shades peering down on Crocodile. “Come on, lets get out of here.”

Crocodile had stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Doflamingo pulled his long pink coat from his shoulders and draped it over Crocodile.

“You don’t want to go back to being a Princess just yet, do you?” He tilted his head, widening his grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Crocodile swallowed, realizing how dry his mouth had become. He quickly adjusted the pink coat on his shoulders, trying to ignore how the man’s scent now encased him, and followed Doflamingo out of the building. He kept his head down while pulling the side of the coat closer to his face. The Kuja warriors were standing in the shade of a building, waiting for him to come out. Luckily the disguise worked, and he was able to get past them unnoticed.

Crocodile followed Doflamingo deeper into the city until they came to a restaurant. When they enter, the hostess bows and directs them to a table in the back without either of them uttering a word. When they reach the table, its filled with people of all shapes and sizes, all waiting for Doflamingo’s return.

“Doffy!” the table raised their glasses when they spotted Doflamingo.

“So, tell me Doffy, what was this invitation all about?” a man in a suit with a cigarette hanging from his lips asked. Doflamingo gestured for Crocodile to take a seat next to where he sat at the head of the table. The others eyed him suspiciously.

“I’ll explain later, but for now let me introduce you to my friend. They’ll be joining us for dinner.” Doflamingo lifted his glass so a waiter could fill it with wine. When Crocodile’s glass was filled, he greedily sipped it, trying not to focus to much on Doflamingo’s use of they. The night dragged on, mostly uneventful. Crocodile learned that these are the Doflamingo pirates and at one point he even found himself speaking casually with a man named Gladius. For most of the night Doflamingo stayed silent, only speaking when one of his crewmates spoke to him. Finally, by the time Crocodile’s glass had been refilled for the third time, Doflamingo leaned closer so only he would hear.

“So, what do you make of my family?” Doflmaingo sat with one leg bent, the heel propped on the edge of his seat, while the other stretched out almost touching Crocodile’s foot. He rested his cheek against his propped fist, waiting for Crocodile’s response.

Crocodile considered his words carefully, “Why do you care?”

Doflamingo grinned, “I’ve seen how you are with the Kuja warriors. You don’t exactly fit in.”

Crocodile frowned into his glass and took another sip. When he stayed silent, Doflamingo went on, “I get the impression that you’re the type of person that would feel more comfortable wearing a suit and tie rather than a dress, if you catch my meaning.”

Crocodile nearly choked on his wine. He kept his face blank and stared at his mostly empty plate, refusing to make eyecontact. How could Doflamingo read him so plainly? What had he done to be found out? His heart began to race.

“Relax,” Doflamingo topped his glass off, “I’m not gonna out you. I only bring it up to say that you’ll never live the life you want if you stay with the Kuja warriors. Not to mention your talents are wasted on that lot.”

This pulls Crocodile’s eyes towards his. He can see his reflection in the pink shades, unable to read the man at all.

He went on, “Join my crew and be free for once in your life.”

Crocodile’s blood froze. Doflamingo slid a piece of paper his way. “You don’t have to answer now, just give me a call when you’re ready to live the life you want.”

After that, Crocodile had shot up from the table, causing the plates and glasses to clink together. The crew turned their gaze on him, but he didn’t care. He took the paper with Doflamingo’s number and darted for the exit. His heart pounded against his chest as his lungs struggled to suck in enough air. Once out into the street, Crocodile kept moving in no clear direction. All he knew was that he needed to put space between himself and Doflamingo. He squeezed the paper in his hand, crumpling it into a ball. He was furious. Furious that Doflamingo was able to read him like a book. Furious that he was reacting the way that he was. And Furious that he actually wanted to say yes. He had never been able to admit it to himself, so hearing it from a complete stranger sends him spiraling into a state of furious panic.

After what felt like endless running, he finally came to a stop when the sky began to cover with dark storm clouds. He leaned against a shop window, panting, and wiping away the sweat from his brow. He stared down at the wrinkled paper. Part of him wanted to hurl it into the street, but instead he found himself folding it and slipping it into his pocket. A cool breeze hits the back of his sweaty neck like an act of mercy. The heat was finally letting up. He tilted his head back, taking a deep breath of the cool air.

A gasp down the street made his head turn. He stared down to where a large crowd had dropped to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the dirty street. Crocodile frowned, feeling a chill run up his spine. A Celestial Dragon. Luckily, the Celestial Dragon was moving away from him. He started to walk away, not wanting to get swept up in Celestial Dragon drama, when he notices a person in a long cloak standing in the center of the empty street. He blinks, taking in the figure, wondering why it seemed so familiar. Until it clicks and Dragon’s face becomes clear from under his hood.

He hasn’t noticed Crocodile yet. His usual bright and hopeful eyes have turned dark. There’s something about him that sends a chill up Crocodile’s spine. He frowns, his expression deadly. Crocodile pauses, wondering what could make this man react this way. Thunder rumbles overhead. He follows his gaze back down the street and feels his heart stop when he realizes what Dragon has his eyes set on. The Celestial Dragon.   

To be continued…

Read full story HERE on AO3!!!

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Once more we fight

whumptober2023 day 1- swooning, how many fingers am I holding up fandom: Percy Jackson TW- injury briefly described but not graphically summary- Percy gets injured and Annabeth has to figure out how to help him

ao3 masterlist

The first thing Percy was aware of was the pounding of his head made even worse by the fact that he seemed to be moving. Or more accurately someone was carrying him. He thought he could hear them talking but couldn't make anything out above the ringing in his ears. He tried to open his eyes but had to immediately shut them when the light felt like a spear had been thrust into his eyeballs. As he became more aware more pain filtered through and he wished he could fall back unconscious. But if he was hurt that meant something bad was happening and he should probably wake up and try to help. Though if he would be able to help at all was beyond him. If he could just remember what had happened.

*****

He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, but it would have been really nice to have a monster free journey for once. They weren’t even going that far! He and Annabeth had just planned to spend their Saturday in a little coffee shop a half hour from New Rome. They had even been on their way back when the Minatour had attacked their car.  

What wonderful memories this was bringing up.

And of course that’s when the Minatour ran them off the road and into a tree. His head had slammed into the steering wheel. Everything was a bit fuzzy after that, but he could remember getting out of the car and bringing out Riptide.  He doest think the fight with the Minatuar took long, especially with Annabeth by his side. But he remembers the monster charging, head lowered, him shoving Annabeth aside and intense pain in his abdomen before he stabbed Riptide through the Minatours neck causing him to dissipate into dust.

And screaming, he remembers hearing screaming. But who’s screaming, he’s not sure.

****

“Percy!” Annabeth screams as the monster dissipates into dust and Percy collapses on the ground, red already pooling around him. As she nears him she feels part of her mind shut down as the analytical side takes over.

Stomach wound though it's hard to tell the extent of the internal damage. Concussion from the crash. His breathing seems okay, so no punctured lungs. Quickly feeling beneath him doesn’t reveal an exit wound, though the Minatour’s horns are long enough to go clear through someone. They’re about a fifteen minute walk from New Rome, though carrying someone will make it take longer.

She needs Nico to shadow travel them, or for someone to bring water and ambrosia.

She bites her lip before dashing to the car to retrieve her bag where she keeps her prism.

“Show me Hazel at New Rome”

The image takes a moment to focus and she doesn’t waste a moment. “Hazel!” 

“Anna–” Hazel starts, turning towards her with a smile, but Annabeth interrupts.

“I need you to get some ambrosia, nectar, and water and come to the turn off for Jefferson Avenue.”

Thank the gods for Hazel, who doesn’t waste any time asking questions, merely says a quick “Will do.” before turning away.

Annabeth goes back to Percy shedding her jacket and using it to apply pressure to the wound. She curses herself for not having wrapped something around it in the first place. 

Less than three minutes later (though it feels like much longer as Annabeth mutters prayers to gods she hardly trusts) and Hazel arrives on Arion.

She leaps off, her eyes going wide before her jaw tenses and she crouches by Annabeth pulling some nectar and a water bottle out of her sack.

Annabeth snatches the water bottle and pours it over Percy’s wound. She allows herself a bit of relief when she sees the bleeding slow before she helps Hazel pour some nectar down Percy’s throat. He coughs but some still makes it down.

By now Frank’s arrived with a car.

“Hazel, help me get him in the car.” 

The other girl nods and they gently pick Percy up and put him in the back seat. Only when Annabeth is sitting with Percy’s head in her lap and the car has started moving does she let the fear start to show.

“You’re going to be okay. That’s an order, seaweed brain. You’re not allowed to die from the stupid minotaur.'' She strokes her hand through his hair and tries to get him to swallow more nectar. “Don’t think that I don’t know that this was just a way to get out of your college midterms” 

Percy groans slightly and his eyes flutter before shutting again.

It isn’t long before they arrive and Frank carries Percy to medical.

Annabeth stays by his side. “We’re here Percy, it would be stupid to die now. You know I’ll just go down to the underworld and drag you back up.”

***

Even with the water and nectar it still takes three hours for the medical team to leave and another hour for Annabeth to be allowed in to see him.

His eyes are slightly open when she comes in. 

“Hey, seaweed brain. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” he smiles, though she can tell he’s exhausted. 

“Wrong, two. The other one’s a thumb.”

He chuckles and the tension leaves Annabeth’s shoulders.

“You okay, wise girl?” “That’s a stupid question considering you’re the one in a hospital bed.” she pretends to be annoyed but she can’t stop smiling.

“Well, you are in the hospital wing.” he smirks.

Annabeth rolls her eyes but can feel herself relaxing more.

“Hopefully we won’t see the Minatour again. I can’t believe how quickly he reforms.” 

“Don’t jinx it.” Annabeth says, poking him gently.

They’re silent for a moment. She can tell Percy’s fighting to keep his eyes open.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” She leans over and kisses him gently on the forehead. “I love you.” 

He smiles up at her, “I love you too.”

He drifts off to sleep and Annabeth breathes out a sigh. This time everything turned out okay, but with their life who knows how many more close encounters they can get through.  She wants a long life with Percy by her side, but as demigods there’s no guarantee.

But she’ll enjoy every moment they can get.

[ifonlyitwasmidnight]

Not really a request, but more like a question. Do you have any Tokyo revengers oc? I post my oc, but I’m kind nervous what will other people think of her and I’m worried I may have made her too boring. I also have other Tokyo Revengers oc, but I been struggling to find a look that will match her personality any advice?

Hey!

I do have an OC for Tokyo Revengers! She's a single mom who bumps into the Toman boys, and they bring her into the fold. She's a newer one, and I'm slowly building her backstory and look. My OC fics tend to be quite long, so I don't know if they are traditionally Tumblr-fed, but I hope to share her someday.

Personally, I love OCs, and I love reading other people's OCs. Fanfic, at its core, is purely self-indulgent, and creating OCs is the perfect way to engage in those thoughts and wants as you explore your way to find your escape, feelings, or unbridled love for the media you are creating the OC for.

The stigma around OCs is hard to overcome, especially since they tend to be so much closer to your heart than just a reader insert or y/n fic. But your writing is for you.

The best advice I have ever received in the industry is this: Your writing is not boring. You know the story's outcome and where it's going, so it can seem boring and predictable to you because you know what will happen.

That being said, your writing isn't boring. But! It is also okay if it is "boring." Boring doesn't equate to "ugh, this is so boring," like we would say when we are understimulated. Sometimes it isn't a traditionally climactic part in the story, it's set up/backstory, or it's a downtime in the second half of the story arc before the reveal. Slow parts are necessary to writing to give you and your readers a moment to breathe away from the action and recenter with the characters. I know you asked about boring characters, but the thought of boring characters fits in with a boring story.

As far as a boring character, you can always sit down and have what I like to call "coffee chats" with her. Figure out what she loves. What's her ideal date. How does she respond to a stressful situation? What's her dress style, favorite food, and favorite movie. To make dynamic characters, you have to know them like the back of your hand. Is she frugal, or does she spend money when she gets her hands on it? It's like going on a 1st, 2nd, and 3rd date with your OC, where you ask every question under the sun to try and get to know her. There are a lot of really great prompts out there where you can fill out character sheets that will help you get to know them. When you think your character is boring, it's probably because your brain has a question about them that you still need to figure out.

It can be shocking what you find out about your characters when you sit down and really think about the nuances and ticks. It brings you much closer to them, and you don't wind up with a character that feels discombobulated where you have to stop and think just how she would react to a situation she's found herself in.

Finding a type match can also be a journey. With my OCs, I tend to think, "what kind of person would I want to surround myself with" and work from there. I've pulled from many influences before to create characters. Sometimes they just appear in my head as "single mom, overworked, looking for an escape, found family," and then I build from there. To be honest with you, I've written myself into an OC before and ran with it because, at the time, my soul needed it to heal. Again, character sheets will work wonders here. You start small and work up from there. Sometimes when you figure out their personalities, their physical looks will come to you because you will find out what matches them based on that.

We write what we know.

And that's okay.

Sorry, this turned out to be so long. Writing at its center is my passion and, ultimately, my job, so I tend to be long-winded.

P.S. I saw the post of your OC, and she is gorgeous. I can't wait to meet her.

[bikepackinguk]

Day Fifty-six

Eight weeks in!

After a very rainy night and morning, my tossing and turning in the tent allowed aome water to ingress, so it was a damp start to the day. After waiting out the morning's rains, a few bits were strapped onto the bike to allow them to dry over the day, then we're off once more.

Out from the trees and back onto the road, it's a bumpy ride mostly downhill to see the sun shining over Holy Loch by Sandbank, followed by a nice easy cruise along the waterside to the ferry terminal at Dunoon.

Perfectly timed to buy a ticket and roll straight onto the ferry, it's the last one I'll be taking in a while, and I'm granted a lovely sunny sky to enjoy the short journey over to Gourock.

Onto the coast west of Glasgow, I get something I haven't had in weeks - long, long stretch of gloriously flat coastal riding. Now the day truly begins!

Here is also a salient lesson in not relying too heavily on GPS navigation when cycling. Google continually suggested I turn off the A78 and head up some steep hills to avoid the traffic, as it was unaware of the frequent off-traffic cycle paths alongside the road.

Onwards! The cycle paths continue until a little past Inverkip, where the road is rejoined for a while. Whilst the traffic is quite heavy, the flatter terrain means good speed is made, and the views over the water to my right make for a good backdrop.

Past Wemyss Bay there's a big traffic jam queueing for the ferry over to Bute, which I can sail past on the pavement and following this the road traffic lightens significantly.

It's some nice miles along the water's edge from here and I set an easy pace for myself. After weeks of punishing hills, this is a great payoff for me.

Rolling into Largs around lunchtime, I enjoy a good rest and coffee by the Pencil Monument, along another great stretch of trails off the roads and around the sea.

There's aome great trails here that even when close to to busy major road are nice and peaceful due to the treelines around, but eventually we head back up and are riding back alongside the traffic. The path surfacing is a bit sketchy in places, and I rejoin the road at times without any stress to enjoy the speed.

Further south, I swing west to roll around the coastline past Hunterston nuclear power plant, and take in a short stretch of offroad trail past the hills to see Portencross Castle and enjoy a nice sit by the water's edge.

Back up to the road we go, and it's more glorious flat-ish riding down past Saltcoats, with Arran just visible in the distance as the skies get greyer and greyer and the winds begin to pick up once more.

The cycle paths continue around the south side of Kilwinning, with some lovely rides through parks and forested areas around the banks of the River Garnock.

It's hitting evening here and a nicely sheltered patch of forest is an opportune spot to rustle up some dinner. I'm back in more populated areas now with more plentiful opportunities to resupply, so I have less need to keep bigger stocks of food on me. Eating up the weight being carried is no bad thing.

The rains have been starting to spray a little by now, and a check of the forecast shows heavy rains imminently on their way and continuing well into the small hours, so it's probably a good idea to shelter up. And the patch of woodland by the river I've just had dinner at is absolutely ideal.

So, tent is up, a good lie down with a full belly is being had to the background of the rains coming down.

An earlier finish today than many, but this has been an excellent day for both the legs and morale. It's not only been a long time since I had a good break from the climbs, but also many weeks since I had some good riding without having to deal with traffic, which is always far more enjoyable.

Roll on tomorrow for more!