#exhausted nile

[sky-of-dusk]

Gaou retiring as soon as Kyouya is of age is so understandable. Actually, it's surprising he survived so long with all the stress Kyouya caused him.

[littlesapphicraccoonguy]

I don’t know, i just wanted to draw Howard x Niles stuff. And now i know that Niles is a stoat thanks to one of my mutuals so thank you for letting me know. But im still convinced that he’s a Beech Marten.

[sweetteaandpie]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Nanny Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: C.C. Babcock/Niles (The Nanny), C.C. Babcock & Niles (The Nanny) Characters: C.C. Babcock, Niles (The Nanny) Summary:

The only time Niles and C.C. seem to have to themselves these days are the early mornings before the world wakes up. They make the best of it.

i wrote a thing a few weeks back. just sharing because we're a small fandom and fanfic writers are doing the lord's work. 

[spirit-whump]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Old Guard & Original Female Character Characters: Original Female Character(s), Nile Freeman, Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Additional Tags: Exhaustion, Post-Mission, Team as Family, Caretaking, Joan is sighing but she's still helping her friends, because they're her family now Series: Part 13 of whumptober2023, Part 4 of the Joan 'verse Summary:

Joan was woken up by the sound of her front door opening. She sat up in a rush and listened closely for a few seconds before she heard low voices making conversation and realized who it was. She checked the clock on her bedside table. It read 3 AM.

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, she pulled herself out of bed. The lights in the living room were on, casting shadows across the walls. She heard something clatter and walked a little faster.

She turned a corner into her living room and was not surprised by what she found: the old guard sprawled across her living room, each of them exhausted and covered in dirt, sweat and a little bit of blood.

"Hi, Joan," Nicky said, having the grace to look sheepish despite his exhaustion.

 The Old Guard breaks into Joan's house at 3 AM after an exhausting mission. They are all very tired. Joan deals with it.

whumptober2023 no. 20: blanket | found family

[l0vergirlwrites]

how do i know it’s true? ; steve harrington

synopsis: to steve, nothing involving the upside down could surprise him after everything him & the gang have gone through. until you get taken by vecna—the worst thing steve has ever witnessed.

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma, blood & injuries, anxiety, possibility of dying, possession, general angst & vecna (yes, that creepy dude needs his own warning). but don’t worry, there’s fluff scattered in between.

note: this fic is inspired by the blue nile’s “the downtown lights” (let’s pretend it came out before season 3 plz) & phoebe bridgers’ “garden song”!

for a moment, everything was fine.

well, your definition of fine was watching your friends climb up a makeshift rope of bed sheets from the upside down gate in eddie’s trailer. you couldn’t help but let out a few laugh sat their reactions when they landed on the mattress eddie had placed beneath the gate as a landing pad.

this was your normal now; casually going in & out of dimensions to solve supernatural puzzles & attempt to save the day all while wondering if you were ever going to finish your algebra homework (you secretly knew you wouldn’t ever find the time).

steve, being the helpful man he’s known to be, was kneeled on the ground with his hands cupped so he could hoist each person up towards safety despite his abdomen aching in pain from bat bites. he truly was your hero.

when it came to be your turn to climb, you couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair.

“chivalry sure isn’t dead, huh?” you ruffled his locks of brown & amber, feeling your heart beat a second faster when he smiled & scrunched his nose cutely at your action.

“definitely not when it comes to you” he winked smoothly, feeling pride in his chest when you grinned wider at him.

“okay, time to hop on up miss”

gripping onto the rope of sheets, you felt a pit in your stomach start to build, but steve tapping the back of your jean covered thigh snapped you out of it.

“i gotcha, don’t worry” he assured with a determined look in his eyes.

like hell he was ever gonna drop you.

so with a nod of your head, you lifted your left foot onto steve’s cupped hands & felt him push you up.

but then everything went black.

at first, you thought your nervous system may of just forced you to shut your eyes in fear of going head first & falling upside down through the gate (you still could not fathom the physics that explained how it worked), but to no avail, all you saw was black.

soon enough, you couldn’t feel the rope.

you couldn’t hear steve or your friends talking.

you couldn’t feel steve.

now, you were starting to panic.

just as you were about to scream, you felt something sharp on your neck. a long nail dragging across your skin too softly to break the skin. the hairs on your arms stood up, goosebumps littered your body, & all you could do was freeze.

“i think you know why you’re here,” a chilling voice whispered into your right ear, making you cringe as you felt the creatures warm breath fan against your skin.

vecna had you trapped. fuck.

“you know, living with the guilt you’ve harboured for so long must be quite exhausting—isn’t it?”

no, no, no, no. this can’t be happening.

“knowing that if you had kept your mouth shut, your anger controlled, that maybe—just maybe, your father would still be alive”

in a flash you were transported back to that haunted day, back to that road trip that your father forced you to go on. you never had a good relationship with him to begin with, so being stuck in a small space for seven hours wasn’t your ideal way to spend a weekend.

it was a few months after your parents finally divorced after years of fighting, screaming, family dinners that were unsuccessful. your father had wanted to bond, to atone whatever trauma he had inflicted upon you as a young child from refusing marriage counselling (or counselling in general) to work on his behaviour.

but as expected, he was too prideful to admit he was ever in the wrong.

which leads you to that moment in the car.

he blamed you for whatever wrong turn he had made a couple miles back, & since you were the one holding the map, it began a screaming match that festered into a tug of war. you tried to get him to let go of your wrists, to let you lead you both out of the barren forest covered dirt roads so you could ge to wherever the hell he wanted to take you to, but he wouldn’t budge.

however, one wrong move changed it all.

it was when you elbowed him the eye accidentally, causing him to yell in agony & involuntarily push his right foot harder on the gas. he wasn’t paying attention to his speed, nor the way the steering wheel was turning.

one minute you were on a dirt road.

the next you were upside down on a rocky ditch that was at least thirty feet from where the dirt road was.

your vision was blurry with blood from a cut on your forehead. your right ankle aching & smushed tight between your car seat & the concaved passenger door.

your father, who hadn’t worn his seatbelt, was partially through the car’s windshield, body covered in glass & blood & you couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

you stayed like that for hours, with the car alarm blaring in your ears until a first ranger showed up as your saving grace.

but your father didn’t survive. & you still believed it was all your fault.

“wouldn’t it be nice if you could let it go? atone for what you did? stop the guilt from eating away at you?” vecna’s voice boomed in your ears.

you were paralyzed in fear, praying this moment would be over.

*~*~*~***~*~~*~*~**~*~*~~*

“you got a good grip, y/n/n?” steve asked after you stilled for a moment, left foot still in the palms of his hands, waiting to be boosting upwards.

you stayed silent. frozen.

steve called out your name again as your grip loosened on the rope & your body began tipping backwards. he quickly reacted, catching your limp body in time before your head smacked the ground.

his heart stopped when he saw your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“no… no, no, no, no! fuck! please, please not you—not you” steve yelled, his hands cradling your face & occasionally slapping your cheeks gently with hopes you’d snap out of it—hoping vecna would let you out of his grasp so steve could make it better.

“steve? what’s going on down there?” robin yelled, her voice echoing into steve’s ears but his heart was constricting & his chest felt really heavy.

“he’s got her—he’s fucking got her & she’s not waking up!” steve yelled again, tears brimming his eyes in fear because he could lose you right now.

brushing your hair out of your face frantically, steve continued tapping your skin. “sweetheart, you gotta wake up. it’s steve—i’m right here. can you hear me? c’mon—come back to me, baby” he croaked as the minutes went on, drowning out the panicked voices in the gate above him.

“what do i do? what do i do—“

“steve! what’s her favourite song? we need her favourite song!” dustin yelled repeatedly, trying to wake steve up from his own panic mode.

it clicked—how could steve forget.

music.

“holy shit. that’s it. favourite song, favourite song…” steve began to feel hopeful, scouring his mind through a rolodex of memories until he found the one he was looking for.

“the downtown lights by the blue nile! the cassette’s in my glovebox! hurry!” he yelled with a heartbroken plea, his eyes not leaving your face. “c’mon, baby. wake up”.

steve didn’t care that he was crying now, but he wasn’t gonna give up on you. while the others were searching through the glove compartment of steve’s b&w & eddie’s stash of cassette tapes in case, steve just started to sing the song in hopes you’d hear him.

“sometimes i walk away, when all i really wanna do is love & hold you right…”

his voice was cracking with nerves, failing to stay completely steady as his chest hurt & his hands were trembling against your skin.

“there is just one thing i can say. nobody loves you this way,” he held back a sob, his heart clenching at how your eyes continued to roll back. “it’s all right. can’t you see, the downtown lights…”

~*~***~~~**~***~*~~***~**~*~

steve learned your favourite song early on when you started dating, around mid october after starcourt fell, where you invited steve over for a sleep over since your mom went out of town for a weekend.

he knew you hated sleeping in your house alone after the events of the summer, so he didn’t mind keeping you company. you both had sprawled out on your living room couch, coffee table filled with pizza, pop, & your favourite treat (which steve picked up on his way over as a surprise). the movie on the tv had become background noise by the time you both had finished eating, bodies turned to one another underneath the blanket you two shared.

“so, when am i gonna get a room tour, hmm?” steve asked as he brushed some hair away from your forehead, fingers tucking some starnes behind your left ear as you looked at him as if he had hung the moon.

“i’ll show you under one condition, harrington”

“i’m all ears” he said eagerly, scooting closer to you on the couch.

nervously, you raised your left index finger to your lips & tapped them, eyes flickering between steve’s brown ones & his pink lips. he watched you closely, getting an idea of what you wanted (which made his stomach roll with butterflies).

“ahhhh” he dragged with realization, “want me to kiss you? is that it?” he teased, making you feel smaller than you really were under his gaze.

but before you could turn away or back out, steve was cradling your cheek & bringing you closer to him. his breath fanned your skin, noses lightly brushing against the other.

“i really wanna kiss you too” he mumbled with a smile before leaning further to close the gap.

you hummed in delight when your lips pressed to his, fingers fisting the material of his sweatshirt because it felt so good. steve could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears as he continued to kiss you, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek to make you melt under his touch. the longer his lips meshed with yours, the more your body had moved to practically sit on top of his, chests just touching as your arms trailed up to wrap around his shoulders.

“steve” you breathed, pulling away with a pant but still staying close.

“was that too much?” he asked concerned, chest rising up & down as he looked at you with care.

it was you who kissed him next, one that lasted a few seconds before resting your forehead against his. “n-no—it was really nice” you exhaled with a smile, arms tightening around him when you felt his left hand resting on your lower back, rubbing up & down soothingly.

you both hasn’t realized that the movie was over & the channel had switched over to music videos. playing softly in the background was a song you had a deep spot in your heart for. turning towards the tv with a tiny gasp, you smiled harder when you saw that it was the blue nile.

“that’s my favourite song!” you whispered excitedly, turning back to steve when he tapped your cheek.

“what song is it?” he asked, not having too much knowledge about them.

“the downtown lights” you replied sheepishly.

“there is just one thing i can say. nobody loves you this way,” you hummed along to the lyrics with a small smile.

steve watched you, admiring how your face looked with the tv glow casting on your features. he thought you were just the best thing ever.

turning up the volume with the remote in his hand, steve listened intently to the lyrics, right foot tapping against the carpeted floor to the beat. “it’s really pretty—just like you” he said, smiling brightly when you chuckled at him.

“that’s so cliche, but thank you”

“cliche but true. & you’re welcome”

~**~*~~*~***~**~~**~**~

after he let the memory replay in his mind, the cassette tap for the band’s album “hats” landed by steve’s feet with a walkman & a headset.

“finally!” steve yelled more so to himself, brushing away a stray tear on his cheek to grab the items

first he put the headphones over your ears. then he attached the tape to the player & forwarded the tape to the song’s track number. turning the volume up, steve’s hands resumed their spot on your face to hold you, to coax out of whatever horrific trance you were in.

“hey, can you hear me? it’s steve, your steve. you gotta wake up, okay? you gotta come back to me” he begged, his hope growing thin as the seconds went on.

“everyone’s here—dustin, lucas, max, robin, nancy, eddie—we’re here. we want you back. we need you. i promise i won’t do anymore stupid impressions or be an idiot—i’ll be whatever you want me to be” steve continued to ramble, praying that you were listening, that you were coming home to him.

“i-i love you. & i can’t do this without you” he cried to you, not caring if any of his friends heard his love confession in the moment because you were still limp in his arms.

he could vaguely hear the yells of his friends trying to talk to you too, trying to lead you back to reality. but all steve could focus on were how your eyes continued rolling into the back of your head.

it wasn’t until the song was about to restart on a loop where steve felt your arms twitching, your chest raising up & down rapidly. before he could even blink your eyes returned back to normal, lips letting out panicked breaths as you scanned your surroundings, hands about to push steve’s away until you saw him.

“s-steve?” you asked wearily, voice feeling small & fragile after the return to hell you had just experienced. “w-what… i-i don’t understand…” you were at a loss for words, confused & scared.

“it’s me, honey—i’m right here. it’s okay now,” before he could finish, you were hiding in his chest, hands gripping the jean jacket he wore so tightly in fear that this was another trick. that maybe you weren’t safe & vecna still had you.

you sobbed hard, breaths becoming strained with each cry that tore through you. every time you closed your eyes, you were back there again—back in that god forsaken car with bloody vision & your father dead. back where vecna told you your worst fears.

“you’re safe. i’m here now. god, i was so worried—ohmygod” steve rambled assurances, cradling your head close like he was in disbelief too, making sure that you were really back in his arms.

surprisingly, the headset was still secured to your head, downtown lights continuing to play from the foamy speakers into your ears. the song calmed you down a bit, made you feel grounded. but it was steve’s touches, the smell of his cologne, & his soft whispers that called you home—back to reality.

“is this real?” your broken voice asked, needing to make sure it was really him.

so steve pulled your head back to hold your face in his hands. he smoothed the sweat, the baby hairs, the tears, & splotches of dirt off your skin, giving you the kindest look you’ve ever been given. “ yeah, i’m real. i’m not gonna hurt you. i gotcha, yeah? won’t let anything hurt you again, promise” he swore with honour, his own lip trembling when your eyes continued to well up with tears.

“god, i love you” he pressed his forehead to yours, exhaling a shaky breath when one of your hands pressed against his chest to feel his heartbeat.

that was the most intimate thing he’s ever felt.

“i love you too” you mumbled back to him, pulling him in for another bone crushing hug to say all the words you wanted to in the moment. steve got the message loud & clear.

[youssefguedira]

@materassassino sent me a prompt but in my exhaustion and lack of brain cells i answered the ask without writing the actual thing and then deleted it so. oops.

but the prompt was extremely sleepy Nicky is different from normal Nicky, so have a very silly little thing

"Leave him alone," Joe is saying without any real annoyance, "it's the deepest he's slept in weeks." He's in one of the armchairs, ignoring the book on his lap in favour of Andy, who's perched on the arm of the couch.

When Nile gets close enough to see over the back of the couch she has to blink a couple times: it's Nicky, completely passed out, currently with three books balanced on his chest while Andy holds a fourth. They rise and fall as he breathes. He's completely dead to the world.

"Is he asleep?" Nile asks, because she still can't quite believe that Nicky, of all people, is sleeping through that. Andy places the fourth book with careful precision and reaches for a fifth.

The thing is, Nicky has a hair trigger for being woken up. Nile learned this a week after meeting him, when she startled him by walking into the living room of their most recent safehouse while he was sleeping on the couch (on watch, but she'd forgotten) and he'd already been reaching for the gun on the side table before she realised he was even there, and then he'd apologised for the gun thing, and told her he hadn't "learned what her footsteps sound like" yet.

After a while he'd stopped going for the weapons whenever she surprised him, but he'd still wake at the slightest sound. Andy's got a similar thing going, but she's a little bit slower, whereas Joe does wake fast, but definitely isn't all the way alert the way Nicky is.

She'd wondered if it was down to what happened in Goussainville, but when she'd finally worked up the courage to ask, because she was starting to wonder if he ever actually slept properly, Joe had just laughed and said he'd always been like that.

But once Andy had decided that the loose ends from Merrick had been sufficiently tied up, she'd called for a couple weeks of downtime, and before that Nicky had been on recon duty, sleeping even less and even worse than usual. So she's not surprised he's sleeping: she's surprised he's still asleep.

"Pass me a couple more," Andy says to Joe, who sighs, but does grab two from nearby and pass them over.

Nile looks between them, and then at Nicky. "That's not gonna wake him up?"

Joe chuckles. "Not when he's like this," he says. "He won't wake for another hour or two. Definitely not until dinner."

Nile blinks at him. Joe, sure, she could believe. Andy, too - Nile's pretty sure she sleeps more during the day than she does at night. She's almost as bad as Nicky for lurking in dark rooms at night. But Nicky?

"He doesn't do this very often," Joe explains. "But the rest of us are awake, and everything's dealt with, for now, so he's comfortable enough."

"Booker built an entire house of cards on him, once," Andy says. "Record for books is, what, nineteen?"

"Eighteen," Joe says. "2012."

Andy places a sixth book and reaches for a seventh. Nile thinks for a moment.

"Only eighteen?" she says.

Andy's grin can only be described as wicked. "That's the spirit," she says. "Pass me another."

Nicky wakes at twenty-one, prompting the entire pile to crash onto the floor, which makes him scramble upright until his brain comes all the way back online, at which point he clocks why the three of them are laughing so hard there are tears in Joe's eyes, and curses them out in five languages.

But he's smiling while he does it, all the same.

[yourmomxx]

Hotch X plus size reader? I need some self-representation and don’t have enough energy to write myself yet.

a/n: anon, I got you! I threw in some insecurity/reassurance, because you said you wanted representation and if it’s not about that topic, I always try to angle my writing in a way that it fits for (women) of all body types and races..thank you for your request, I hope you like this!!

Aaron knew that something was wrong when you didn’t throw in commenting remarks while you were curled up by his side, you both slouching on the couch in the living room, watching The Nanny.

He didn’t say anything about it, he let you be, thought you might have just had an exhausting day at work and weren’t currently in the mood or condition to interact with anyone.

He knew those days.

Aaron knew, that if there was something obviously bothering you, you would tell him about it, you always did.

But when Cece and Niles started going at it on the TV screen, verbally slapping each other around without ever so much as raising a finger and even his mouth broke into a slight grin, and you still weren’t reacting to any of it, he wondered.

Without saying anything, Aaron reached for the remote and put the TV on mute. It was only when the continuous background noise suddenly stopped, that you looked up from where you had been intensely focused on fidgeting your fingers, and furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“Why did you turn off the sound?” You asked him, voice smaller than usual, although he was sure you thought you were great at concealing that something was bothering you.

Aaron signed and adjusted himself in-between the cushions. He made sure you stayed tucked into his side, though.

He nudged your head with his nose. “Tell me,” he murmured lowly, “what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and did your best to avoid his eyes.

“I fucking hate profilers, you know that?” You grumbled. Aaron’s chest shivered as he let out a quiet laugh.

“So,” His free hand grabbed for your chin and tilted it to focus on him, his thumb slowly smoothing out your eyebrows. “Tell me. You know I will listen.”

You sighed. Honestly, there was no point in denying it anymore. You knew how your boyfriend valued the subject of communication in your relationship, and also now that he knew that something was plaguing your thoughts, there was really no way to escape.

You had really thought you’d done a good job at hiding it, that something obviously had you troubled.

But apparently not well enough for Aaron.

You always asked yourself if his job was the reason why he was able to see through your facade that easy, or if your facade was simply that easy to see through.

“Look, it’s just-“ You picked up the habit of fidgeting your fingers again, “-I know I shouldn’t even think like that, because it’s childish, and stupid, and pathetic, and -“

“Hey, hey, hey.” Aaron pulled you closer into him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You hear me? Whatever you feel, it cannot be either of those things, because it is your feeling, and as such, it is valid. Do you understand me?”

You couldn’t do more than nod. The question of how you deserved someone as kind as him made the knot in your throat only grow tighter.

Your hands were much easier to look at than his face. You felt like a sinner confessing.

“It’s just that-“ You started, embarrassment and self-consciousness weighing heavy on your chest, “I’ve been thinking, for a while now. And when we go out, with your friends, and I see someone like Emily Prentiss, who could probably run a ten mile sprint right now if I asked her to, or JJ, who had a child and still looks like she could get hired by every second modeling agency, I-“

You blinked away tears, but even though the hot fluids didn’t run down your cheeks, the way your voice trembled and broke was enough evidence that they were there.

“And when I’m alone with my mind at night, or literally any time, I start to think about it, and I think, I never could be them. And I ask myself, why would you be here, and why would you stay with me, with someone like me, if you had women like them as an option? And I know that’s not fair to you, but even everytime I watch TV, I am reminded that I am not one of those stereotypically pretty women, and it just messes with me so, so much.”

Now, the tears were flowing. Big, salty drops were trickling down your cheeks, taking chunks of mascara down with them.

You didn’t care in that moment.

Aaron just held you closer.

It felt good, to cry, for the first time in a long time. It was cliché, but it felt relieving.

Aaron waited. He was good at doing that, and you appreciated it.

It took a short while for your sniffles to die down, and for you to shakily accept the tissue that your boyfriend was handing you, but you managed.

Aaron brushed a stray tear off your cheek and pressed a barely there kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you ready to listen to me, sweetheart?” He asked.

You took a deep breath.

“Because if you want to continue making points on how Hollywood makes biased casting choices, then I’m fine with that, too.”

You couldn’t help the shaky chuckle escaping your throat at his words.

When you didn’t make a move to say anything, your boyfriend slowly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and let his thumb trace soft patterns on where it rested on your shoulder.

"I want to reassure you that there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you have to worry about. Not when it comes to your appearance, my co-workers, women I see on the street, or, most importantly, my feelings for you."

You opened your mouth, but Aaron forestalled you.

"I know that you didn't mean to tell me you doubted me, but I want to tell you anyways. Y/N, what I want is to grow old with you. To spend every last minute of my day coming home to you, having you in my arms. Looks wither, and therefore would never be the reason for me to fall in love with you or perceive you as beautiful merely on them."

“Yes, but the way someone looks is the first way one notices about them, if they want to or not!”

Aaron shook his head.

“No, the first thing I noticed about you was that you ran into me and spilled brewing hot coffee all over my suit,” Aaron corrected you. “And then continued to pay the bill for my coffee for a whole month after that, even though I told you it was fine.”

You dipped your head in thought. It’s true, you had done that. Every time you’d come into the small coffee shop, the barista had already known to bill your coffee, and Aaron’s on top of it.

Until someday, you both walked in at the same time, together.

“Do you hear me?” Aaron continued, “I don’t mean to invalidate the way you feel, but I want you to understand, that, from me, you have nothing to worry about. Because, after a long day, or days, of work with Prentiss, and with JJ, it is you I come home to, and happily so. It is you who I will get down on my knee for at a beautiful, private beach on a day when it’s neither to warm nor to cold, because I know it is exactly what you want. It’s you who I want to fall asleep next to, and wake up next to again, and who I would skip a day of work for just so I could stay longer in bed with you. And I know I said looks don't matter to me, because don't get me wrong, they don't, but you are singlehandedly the most beautiful woman I have ever come across the entire time I have spent in this world. Now maybe call me biased, because I love you so much, but I don't care. Do you understand me?”

You craned your neck the slightest bit to look him in the eye, and his hey held so much sincerity and passion - for you - that you couldn’t do anything else than believe in what he said.

You sniffled slightly and nodded as an answer to him.

“I’m afraid I need to hear you say it,” Aaron said.

Another shaky nod. “I understand.”

“Good.” Aaron leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips, and your muscles slumped together at the comfort and the exhaustion, and a sigh escapes from your mouth into his even as he broke away.

“Now please, come on.” Aaron stood up from the couch and rested his hand on your cheek, lips leaned in close to yours as he whispered, “Let me show you how beautiful I think you are.” Another soft kiss.

“Until you believe me.”

—

“Here’s the file about the Colorado murders you wanted me to get you.” Without knocking, David Rossi strutted into Aaron Hotchner’s office, because it’s simply what he always did.

Aaron barely raised his head to shoot him a brief thanks as he dropped a beige folder on his desk.

Rossi was almost out the door, when Hotch spoke up again and stopped him.

“Dave, do you happen to know how far our authority range reaches?”

David Rossi stopped in his tracks, one eyebrow raised suspiciously at his friend’s odd question.

“I don’t think we’ll get the President to destroy his big, red button,” He responded, “But the answer to that question really depends on what you’re asking for.”

Hotch dipped his head slowly. “Well, let’s say, maybe … Hollywood?”

[bluenightcomedies]

I'M DOOOOONE *ragdolls and clips through floor from exhaustion* anyway my first ever mass-attack! :D i half-assed the background since we were running out of time kjahdf targets on tumblr: @zilluzion (zillu the bunny, rhea the avali, and the coffee foam bunnies), @recompiledbirds (Ivy the amphimorpho), @kubunnie (Cozy Alphabet the teddy bear), and @torifloop (ToriFloop.EXE the protogen)! targets not on tumblr: fnafdoodle on twitter (Doodle the rabbit), JhinWonderlust only on artfight (Graphite the wickerbeast), and jayycier on twitter (Jayce the nile croc)! reminder to self: don't start the mass attack on the last week oh god orz ~Blue

[tojiscrack]

very small sneak peak of chapter 7 for (levi x reader) start of a new obsession:

masterlist here:

"cadet, i do not possess any form of humour that you might find entertaining," said commander erwin, stern and grave. "i am quite serious in my observation. i have noticed, however, how little excitement you have compared to our last meeting."

he was referring to the meeting where he practically slapped you in the face for defending him against that vile nile dok (you would still do it again, if given the opportunity).

"care to explain?" he prompted, when it had become clear that you would not answer without another push.

you sighed irritably.

"i'm going through something right now," you explained, half angry and half exhausted, "and it's all because of captain levi."

"did he have something to do with your suspension?" the commander questioned. you finally looked up at him and found that he looked rather curious. did he seriously not know what had happened?

"he didn't tell you?" you returned, also stumped. "aren't you guys meant to be, like, best friends or something?"

"best friend is not quite the term i'd use," he continued gracefully. 

"okay well i think you're best friends so that's what i'm gonna go with from here on out," you dismissed him, still irritable and annoyed. "section commander hange didn't know either —"

"i'll have to ask him about it later —"

"no!" you interrupted, eyes wide as you stepped in front of him and his horse to stop him from continuing on. "you can't let him know you found me. he can't know anything."

"cadet l/n —"

"if you tell him," you began, grasping at straws, "i'll shave your eyebrows and glue them to keith's head since yours are so bushy, you're hogging them all —"

the look of surprised concern had vanished from his face, now stern and firm, with all the authority you knew he carried himself with when addressing his scout members. you stopped yourself there, scratching the back of your neck nervously.

this'll all make sense once you read the entire chapter lmao. we're currently at a stunning 20k words, but i still need to write more scenes so my prediction tells me that this chapter'll have 30k words altogether, and will probably be released sometime this week (most likely next, tbh)?

[lucysarah-c]

"Look at them," Mike complained, exhausted, leaning against the stone wall of the kitchen, sipping watery tea. He, in love but past the honeymoon state, observed the scene like a tired mother with hands full of children watching young couples at a fair. Hange, in no better state, rested beside him, drinking their own tea slowly, transcending calmness and transforming into annoyance. "God, their happiness upsets me somehow," they said, like a neutered animal that didn't understand the sweet call of nature during spring. "It's so annoyingly sweet," then added with mockery and a hint of disgust, "Awww, being in love." "The sight of it makes me want to gag somehow." "Says the one who has his tongue pushed down his girlfriend's mouth 24/7," Hange pointed out with a soft chuckle against their cup before sipping. "But I do it with grace," the tall dirty blond defended, their eyes glued back on us who were just preparing our rations for the trip together, doing absolutely nothing other than that, but apparently, it was unbearably mawkish. Mike scoffed, annoyed as if it was too much to bear, rolling his eyes. "God, it's unbearable to see... to see it and know that Erwin is not seeing it! Where is he when I need him? I wish I could unsee it." Hange chuckled and said, "I can unsee it." The other squad leader turned to his right to raise a confused eyebrow, only for the brunette to raise their glasses, rest them on the top of their head, and reply, "Done, now I can't see shit." Both began to chuckle, adding one joke after the other to beat the deadly morning. To the point that Moblit was passing by and looked at both, confused. "What's up?" Before Moblit could say much, Mike surrounded the other guy’s neck with his arm and pushed him closer and slightly upwards so both of them could be on the same level. "You see that, Moblit?" Mike whispered as he softly pointed at Levi and me across the room. Groaned reply as Moblit struggled to stay in tiptoes. Confused honey eyes looked at us briefly before fixing his eyes' attention back on Mike from the corners as he was still pushed upwards. "THAT," the blond put emphasis on the word by pointing in Levi’s direction with his free hand that was still holding his cup, "That’s the face of a man that has been delactosed." Hange spat up the tea and coughed, "MIKE! For fuck's sake! THE MENTAL IMAGE," Moblit grimaced in disgust. "Oh come on," Mike chuckled, "Don't play delicate with me. I bet you were thinking it too." There was a soft silence as Moblit got released, but the three of them remained there against some kitchen wall admiring at the distance. "To think that my bestie got cuckolded in my face, and I didn’t do anything. Brotherhood is dead," the former Humanity’s strongest soldier commented with a soft faked tone of disappointment on the situation or of himself. Hange looked at him silently for a couple of seconds, pondering about saying out loud or not, and then, as natural to them to hold little back, commented, "Are you talking about Nile? The biggest cuckold of all your friends? Or was that part of the brotherhood union too?" While Moblit chuckled slightly too loudly for their taste and hid his face between his hands, Mike stared at the brunette lifeless but also defeated. "Nothing to argue against that logic." "HA! That’s what I thought."

Mike calling Levi a "lactose - free" guy is simply... Magical 🤣

Upcoming ch. Of Holy Ground

[mpregstory]

THE EGYPT BABY

Lukas and Daniel had been looking forward to their vacation in Egypt for a long time. After months of hard work and hectic city life, they longed for peace and adventure at the same time. When they landed in Cairo, the air was warm and spicy, filled with the smells of the street markets and the distant sound of Arabic music.

Lukas, the pregnant man, had become accustomed to the curious glances over the past few months. His belly was round and firm, and he often stroked it as if to comfort the unborn child. Daniel, his boyfriend, was always by his side and supported him lovingly.

Their first stop was the Egyptian Museum, where they marveled at the treasures of the pharaohs. Lukas felt a special connection to the ancient statues and reliefs, which often depicted fertile goddesses. "It's amazing how old these cultures are and how much they worshipped fertility," he said thoughtfully to Daniel as they stood in front of a statue of the goddess Isis.

The next day they decided to go on a desert safari. They rented a jeep and drove out into the endless sand dunes that glittered under the sun. Daniel had planned everything carefully and made sure they had enough water and provisions. Lukas, although a little exhausted from the heat, enjoyed the vastness of the desert and the silence that was only interrupted by the wind.

When they stopped at an oasis, Lukas sat down under a date palm and put his hands on his belly. "The little one is kicking," he said to Daniel with a smile. "He seems to like the warmth." Daniel knelt down next to him and also put his hand on Lukas' belly. "Maybe one day he will hear this story and be proud that he was in Egypt before he was born," he said with a loving look.

In the following days, they visited the Pyramids of Giza and took a cruise on the Nile. During the boat ride, they enjoyed the gentle breeze and the passing scenery. One evening, as the sun was setting over the Nile and the sky was bathed in a deep orange, Lukas felt a strong movement in his stomach. "It feels like it's dancing," he laughed. Daniel held him close and whispered, "We're going to be a wonderful family."

Their trip ended in Alexandria, where they visited the ancient library and strolled through the city's busy streets. The street markets were packed with people, and the sounds of vendors touting their wares filled the air. Suddenly, Lukas stopped and clutched his stomach. His face twisted in pain. "Daniel... I think it's starting," he groaned.

Passersby looked on, curious and worried, as Daniel frantically called for help. A kind woman in a colorful dress came over and led them to a nearby cafe, where they sat Lukas on a bench. "Breathe deeply, honey," Daniel said, holding Lukas' hand. The woman called an ambulance, but the contractions became more intense and regular.

Amid the hustle and bustle of the street, surrounded by curious and helpful strangers, the dramatic birth began. Lukas' screams mixed with the sounds of the market. Daniel remained calm and tried to calm Lukas, even though he himself was shaking with fear. Finally, after what seemed like endless minutes, the cry of a newborn was heard.

The crowd erupted in cheers when they saw the baby. The ambulance finally arrived, and the paramedics helped to care for Lukas and the baby. Daniel held the small, screaming bundle in his arms, tears of relief and joy streaming down his cheeks. "We did it," he whispered to Lukas, who was smiling exhausted but happy.

The journey that began as an adventure ended in an unforgettable event that Luke and Daniel would remember forever. They returned home not only with memories of the majestic monuments and enchanting culture of Egypt, but also with the birth of their child - a new chapter in their life together.

[sheafrotherdon]

What if, Joe thinks, they’d found out before they did; if Booker had just told them; if Booker had taken his head out of his ass for just one half minute and realized . . .

He pulls in a long breath and turns over to lie on his back, the sheets tangled around his knees. Nicky sleeps beside him, curled in on himself, one hand shoved beneath the pillow. Joe has no idea what time it is. It’s been night forever.  He can’t get comfortable and his brain won’t quiet and as the moon shifts there’s a new crack in the ceiling to study, a new shadow thrown against the wall.

There is no point in fuming, Joe reminds himself, scrubbing at one eye with a fist. What’s done is done. There’s Nile to think about now, and Andy, and Booker can go fuck himself if he thinks for a second . . .

He pulls in a long breath again, lets his hand drop back to the mattress.

There’s a bubble of something hot and restless right behind his sternum and Joe feels like it might choke him if he lets down his guard. It’s grief maybe. Anger. It’s the certainty of Andy dying and the dizzying press of everything there is to teach Nile. It’s wishing he could smooth the way for her and knowing he can’t. It’s the sense-memory of Jerusalem and the Frank who wouldn’t die.

Nicky turns over as though the very thought has woken him.  He slides a hand to rest on Joe’s chest. “Have you slept?” he asks around a yawn. His voice is thick with sleep, low and rough.

Joe shakes his head. “I keep thinking.”

“Hmmm.”  Nicky shifts closer and Joe responds, lifts his arm so that Nicky can eel beneath it; he pulls him tight against his side as Nicky settles again. “You are exhausted,” Nicky whispers, rubbing his thumb back and forth against Joe’s skin.

“Yeah.”

“But if you cannot sleep . . .”

“No.”

“. . . at least lie with me here.”

Joe closes his eyes on a bright flare of loving this man, turns on his side to face Nicky and lets Nicky tug the sheets back up around them both.

“We will just exist,” Nicky murmurs.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Hmmm.” Nicky smiles just a little. “We have done far more difficult things.”

Joe leans in to touch his forehead to Nicky’s, slides an arm around his back. “I suppose that’s true,” he whispers.

“Exist with me,” Nicky murmurs in reply, trailing one finger up and down Joe’s spine. “Like this.”

Joe closes his eyes and listens to the familiar cadence of Nicky’s breathing. “I love you,” he offers clumsily into the warm space between them, and when Nicky says, “and I you,” he relaxes, sighs.

[missfrieden]

Bad Batch ancient Egypt AU

Bad Batch AU Egypt

Introduction

In a land, thousands of years ago, the sun was always shining and life depended on a river. The vein of life, the Nile. The visual representation of Hapii.

This idea came to me, because of personal interests, research and work. I decided to try it, and not be overly too specific with the practices and dynasties. Basically mushing the kingdoms a bit together, so I can really try to also educate in a way. I will try to link information which may confuse, or try to explain it within the story. I am always open to answer any questions.

This one introduces the reader. Due to the concept I have in mind it is a pale skinned, tiny female. Most not sure whith whom I will couple her, probably going to be Tech, because I feel more secure in that with this AU. But I am open for wishes and leaving my comfort zone.

Masterlist

Chapter 2: The Foreigner

Crosshair stood at his usual spot by the Nile seaport, watching the incoming boats with his keen eyes. Something he often does when not out hunting, due to his perfect sight. It was a quiet afternoon, the sun casting long shadows over the water. Most ships carried goods and travellers, their presence noted on the scroll he held in his hand. He glanced at the list, checking off each arrival with precise efficiency.

His attention was caught by a small, damaged boat approaching the dock. It wasn't on the list. He leaned slightly forward, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the vessel. On board, he saw a young woman, her skin tone much paler than any other visitor. She looked exhausted, barely able to keep herself upright. The boat seemed barely seaworthy, a stark contrast to the robust vessels usually seen here. "Why do they always come here for help?" he muttered to himself, his hand instinctively drifting towards his bow. Only his respect for Ma'at, the goddess of truth and justice, kept him from drawing it. He was a guardian of order, and it was his duty to assess and handle every situation with balance and fairness.

As the boat drew closer, Crosshair could see the woman more clearly. She was small, about 1.58 meters tall, with soft, long hair and eyes that are attentive besides the bags beneath. Her expression was a mixture of fear and exhaustion. She wore a thick grey woollen dress and a fur coat made of wolf skin, clothing completely unsuited to the Egyptian climate. She looked like she was on the brink of collapse. The boat bumped against the dock, and Crosshair swiftly moved to secure it. He then turned his attention to the woman, who was struggling to stay conscious.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice calm but authoritative. She didn't respond, her eyes wide with terror. Crosshair realized she didn't understand his language. Her lips, soft and plump, trembled as she tried to speak, but no words came out. Sensing her desperation, Crosshair softened his tone trying to keep in mind what Hunter told him. "It's okay. You're safe now." Which still came out gruffer than he tried to.

He motioned for a nearby dock worker to bring water and food. The worker, understanding the urgency, hurried off. Crosshair then helped the woman to sit down by a bench on the dock, supporting her as she swayed on her feet. Her body was trembling and frail but curvy, and a bit chubby, but she felt light in his arms due to her weakened state.

"Y/N," you managed to whisper hoarsely, pointing to yourself. Trying to at least communicate your name. The words spoken around you make no sense, what you did expect. "Y/N..." Crosshair repeated, nodding. He tried to convey that you are safe, but your fear was palpable. He needed help from someone who could communicate better than him.

Moments later, the dock worker returned with water and bread. Your eyes lit up with a mixture of gratitude and desperation. Reaching for the water first, drinking greedily. Crosshair watched carefully, she could still be a thread to the kingdom. But he also can see that she must have been through a great ordeal to end up here. As you finished the water and began nibbling on the bread, Crosshair looked around. He needed someone who could help him communicate with you and understand your story. Omega was good with people, especially those in distress. She would know how to help Y/N feel at ease.

Leaving her in the care of the dock worker for a moment, Crosshair quickly made his way back to the compound. He found Omega getting ready to go assisting with evening rituals, her face lighting up as she saw him approach. "Crosshair! What's wrong?" she asked her big brother, sensing his urgency.

"We have a visitor at the docks. She’s in bad shape and doesn't understand us. I think you can help her," he explained briefly. Omega nodded, immediately understanding the situation's gravity. She gathered a few supplies and followed Crosshair back to the docks.

When they arrived, you looked slightly better but still wary and confused. Omega approached slowly, offering a warm smile. "Hello, Y/N," Omega said softly, using the name Crosshair had relayed. "My name is Omega. We're here to help you."

You looked at Omega, your eyes filled with hope and fear. You didn't understand the words but seem to grasp Omega’s friendly tone and gestures. Omega offered you another drink something sweet and some dried meat, encouraging you to eat and regain strength.

Omega turned to Crosshair. "She’s been through a lot. We need to get her somewhere safe and comfortable where she can rest and recover." Crosshair nodded, already thinking of a suitable place for guests and he voices it. "We’ll take her to the guest quarters. It's quiet and secure." Omega quickly interjects. “Plus you ‘no trusting to anyone besides the family’, can keep an eye on her that way.” Crosshair flicked the cut papyri, he often has between his lips, at his sister and she has a way of getting what she wants. She truly lives life to the open principles.

They carefully helped you to your feet, supporting you as they walked. You lean heavily on them, more than you want, but your exhaustion is evident with each step. Omega kept talking to you softly, using calming gestures to soothe your fears.

Once they reached the guest quarters, Omega helped you settle into a bed, covering you with a light linen sheet to replace your heavy, unsuitable clothing, what was a bit of a fight but you seemed to understand. Omega also was a bit confused to see that you wore a thinner woollen dress beneath, which she let you wear as you protested. She arranged for a healer to attend to you, ensuring you had everything she needed.

Your eyes fluttered open, glancing at Omega and Crosshair with gratitude. You still didn’t understand their language, but the kindness in their actions was universal. Dozing off being so exhausted. As the healer arrived, Omega turned to Crosshair. "We’ll need to find a way to communicate with her better. Maybe Echo can help. He knows more about different languages and might be able to figure out how to talk to her." Crosshair nodded. "I’ll fetch Echo. Stay with her."

Omega agreed, turning her attention back to you, who was already beginning to relax under her care. The healer left explaining that she needs a lot of sleep and to drink. Preparing some herbs to give the strange woman some strength before leaving.

Crosshair hurried off to find Echo, his mind racing with questions. Who was this woman exactly, and what had brought her to their shores? He was determined to find out and ensure she means no harm, all while maintaining the order and justice that guided his actions every day.

Echo was in the temple, finishing his evening prayers. Crosshair approached him quickly, explaining the situation. Echo’s eyes widened with concern, and he immediately agreed to help.

Back in the guest quarters, Echo sat beside you, you were now resting more comfortably. He spoke to you gently, trying various languages he knew in hopes of finding one you understood.

“I’m Echo. We’re here to help you,” he said slowly, watching as your eyes squint. You seem not to understand but getting that they pose no danger.

You nodded weakly. “Thank you… Echo.” Your words, besides the names, make also no sense at all to them. Now Echo has to wait for Hunter and the others to tell them of their surprise guest. Heading to the main living area and let you rest.

Your arrival in Memphis was more than just a rescue. It was a testament to the power of compassion, the strength of the human spirit, and the unexpected ways in which lives can intertwine.

Chapter 3

Tags: @sleepycreativewriter @clonethirstingisreal @babyscilence @happydragon @griffedeloup

Also I am on the road to recovery, left ear is totally blocked off still. Can't hear a thing there, but the ritgh one is all good now!

[itsgxsly]

THE JOURNALIST

Summary: Max hates everything that has to do with the press, but when you are the one who is gonna interview him, he is more than willing to collaborate.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 922

It was common knowledge that Max Verstappen was not particularly a fan of the press. He had already had several problems in interviews and his temperament did not do much to improve the problems he brought. But like everything, it always had to be an exception to the rule. And there you came in. You were a young Spanish woman who had gotten a job with Dazn, which had allowed you to get to work in your favorite sport. You were a fan of F1 since you were little, and seeing everything in the first person and meeting the drivers had been a real dream. Although you had to admit that today you had a little more nervous than usual. You had interviewed several of the drivers before, all nice to you. But today you would have to interview the reigning world champion, Max Verstappen, and you would be lying if you said you weren't scared because of how many of your teammates had talked about their experience with him.

You arrived at the Paddock and went to the Red Bull garage, where a girl took you to one of the private hospitality areas, you would wait for the Dutch driver for the interview. When you finished placing what you would need, you saw Max enter through the same door as you before. Although it scared you a little, you recognized that he was handsome. He no longer had those Nile features that you had seen on him in older races a few years ago. When he came to you you got up to greet him.

“Hi, I'm y/n. It's a pleasure” you stretched out your hand to greet him.

"Equally. I'm Max” you were surprised by the softness of his voice. He didn't sound aggressive or unpleasant. He even smiled sympathetically at you.

On the other hand, Max had little to no desire for more interviews. He felt good about being world champion, but the press part seemed exhausting and unnecessary. But Christian and his father insisted that it was necessary for him to do it.

When he entered the room, he was expecting some nosy journalist who would keep him bored for quite some time, but instead, he was greeted by the image of a young woman. Your kind face distracted him for a few seconds, lost in how beautiful you were. Maybe the interview wouldn't be so bad after all. He shook your hand, and he almost resisted letting go as he felt the softness of it compared to his bigger, rougher hand. You told him to sit down and begin the interview, thinking that he would want to finish as soon as possible. However, Max wished the interview would last forever if he could hear your sweet voice asking him questions.

You didn't understand why people spoke so badly about a boy like that. You were scared that at the beginning of the interview you would end up annoying him in some way. But Max was as nice as he could be, answering everything in the best possible way. You clearly didn't know that Max was doing everything in his power to be nice to you and not scare you off. When the interview was over, you gathered your things, and when you thought that Max had left, you realized that he was still waiting for you at the door. The gesture make you soft, and now it was clear to you that you had no reason to be afraid of the Red Bull driver, who had not behaved more than like a gentleman with you.

“Thank you” you said when he opened the door for you and let you out first.

"It's nothing" he smiled at you.

Both of you walked in silence until the hospitality exit under the gaze of some people who looked at the pilot with confusion seeing him so calm near a journalist. When you got outside you turned to say goodbye for the last time.

“It was a pleasure interviewing you, Max. I really don't understand why everyone told me that you could be a bit unpleasant. You have been a gentleman with me” you sounded innocent having no idea of ​​​​reality.

“Thank you for the interview. You know, actually I tend to be a bit complicated with journalists, so maybe they weren't lying to you when they told you that ”his confession left you a little confused.

“Well, you have been kind to me, why??”

"Let's see..." Max scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little. "When I saw you you seemed beautiful to me and I liked you, so I didn't want to scare you" his voice fell into a embarrassed whisper as he spoke, while his gaze went to the ground.

You found his reaction adorable, so blushing slightly, you stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Max thought his brain short-circuited when he felt your soft lips on his skin.

“I liked you too, Max Verstappen. And thanks for being so nice to me today” with those words, you turned around, almost running when you realized what you had just done.

Meanwhile, Max was still stunned standing in the middle of the Red Bull hospitality, still feeling the imprint of your lips on him. When he finally reacted, he cursed himself for not asking for your phone number or anything to get in touch with you. So now he just prayed that he would see you again, and if he could, kiss you properly this time.

[gemsofgreece]

Hey quick question princess andromeda from the myth with Persus is from Ethiopia ? But then how come in paintings she is white ?

Quick question, long answer. Yes and no. It’s a little confusing. There are several parameters to this.

Aethiopia, an etymologically Greek name, is the name different Greeks gave to different places of the world. In the classical era (440 BCE), Herodotus called all the area south of the Sahara and the Nile as Aethiopia, making thus the most relevant description. Pindar however, a contemporary of his (~450 BCE), calls Aethiopia the region around Elam (Southwest Iran). Same as Hesiod, who did that in 700 BCE already. In ~500 BCE, both Scylax of Caryanda and Hecataeus of Miletus seem to agree Aethiopia is east of the Nile and expands throughout the Arabian peninsula all the way to the Indus Valley and the Indian Ocean. The first mention of Aethiopians is by Homer (~800 BC) who vaguely says that they lived in the extremities of the world, in the far east and west.

So as you see, the earlier back in time, the more generic and distant the term’s meaning is. Herodotus is likely the one who seals the association of Aethiopia with only sub-Saharan Africa and the country south of Egypt in particular.

The origins of Greek mythology precede all these writers. In general many historians suggest that the Aethiopia of the myth of Perseus and Andromeda was supposed to be in west Asia and perhaps somewhere around Israel and Palestine. Some believe it is Jaffa, Tel Aviv in particular. I am not totally sold on the explanations why. The point is however that Aethiopia’s geographical definition especially before Herodotus and even more before Hesiod was very vague and fluid. It seems it described places that in general were too hard for Greeks to reach, exotic.

The name itself can help us understand. Aethiopian means the one who looks burnt, smoked. From αίθω (aétho - burn) and όψη (ópsi - look, face). Now, this sounds low-key horrible in English but in Greek it’s not derogatory, but I have no better way to explain it. Ancient Greeks had written quite a few times about the attractiveness of the Aethiopians (whoever they were) so they didn’t associate the term with a repulsiveness like that of burnt flesh but just as the effect of the sun on their complexion.

In short, at least prior to Herodotus, Aethiopia was all the land inhabited by POC, even if that included large parts of Africa and Asia all the way to India. It did not include Libya (North Africa) and Egypt. This was not so much due to skintone (although it could be too - as North Africans can be way more white passing than people far from here believe) but because Greeks were well aware of these regions. Aethiopia was associated with exotic, distant places with darker people. This could be black people and brown people and all their various tones. Perhaps simply anyone who was noticeably darker than a Greek.

Now if we compare Jaffa (Andromeda’s Aethiopia) with modern day Israel or Palestine, then Andromeda and her parents could be medium brown or light brown or white / white passing.

However, I seriously doubt Ancient Greek art was concerned about skintone accuracy, simply because it was art made by Greeks and viewed by other Greeks. Everyone depicted usually followed the Greek standards of beauty. Besides, it’s a Greek myth, right? If we wonder about Andromeda’s complexion, then we should also wonder about her name! And her mother’s name! Why are they Greek? Well, simply, because it’s Greek mythology, which provides a genealogy where all progenitors are kin to Greek progenitors. Cepheus, Andromeda’s father, is brother of Danaus and has Argive ancestry (since this is a myth from Argos!). So if that’s true, Andromeda has Greek ancestry and might be white-passing because of that. But these is just exhaustive and in my opinion unnecessary nitpicking.

In Ancient Greek art complexion is almost always not depicted accurately but men are usually depicted as dark and women as fair because this was the beauty standard.

No this doesn’t mean Perseus was black and Andromeda white! It only shows the beauty standards of the time. Corinthian vase. Archaic period.

Andromeda, Perseus and Cepheus. Apulian vase, Classical Period. All look white or white passing.

Here although the skintone is the same, the artist makes Perseus blonde in order to stress Andromeda’s darkness through the haircolour. Zeugma, Roman period.

And… look at that!

In this ‘mildly’ racist art, Andromeda is depicted as a dude as the tall white-passing person in the middle and she is getting tied for the beast by fellow Aethiopians who however look nothing like her. They are shorter and clearly African. Andromeda wears Phrygian, thus non-African clothing, but also nothing like the Greek clothing. This artist wanted to provide some diversity but apparently not for the beautiful princess lol Attic vase, probably Classical period.

Anyway so, Andromeda was either brown or black or white passing at most, because of Jaffa and the argive ancestry. Once Aethiopia - Ethiopia’s location had become more specific though, western artists depicting Andromeda as pretty fair of skin or blonde is misrepresentation with questionable motives. My opinion is that there is a wide range of looks Andromeda can be depicted to have, but not something that makes her look whiter or even just as white as Perseus.

[man-im-so-high]

Mate there hasn’t been any hurt/comfort fics

It’s been a dry desert

But if you can make one, your choice btw, I have a concept (if you’re comfortable with it, if not that’s okay)

The concept: girlie escapes an abusive relationship and Matty comforts her

//LEAVING TONIGHT// - m.h. x reader

summary: escaping your abusive ex and finding shelter at matty's place

warnings: description of gaslighting/guilt tripping, mental abuse and toxic behavior in general, hurt/comfort!!

w/c: 1k

a/n: tysm for the request!! i LOVE hurt/comfort so i hope this is alright, i feel like the ratio is off. i let my friend read it and he liked it so here you go

//masterlist//

loud shouting could be heard from the place you once called home. this is no home. it hasn't been in months.

you used to love this place and the person you shared it with.

it used to give you a warm and cozy feeling, like a hot chocolate in front of a fireplace, like a comfy body engulfing you under a thick blanket.

but now whenever you're here an estranging feeling fills your body, terrible thoughts consume your mind. just seeing the person you once loved gives you the ick, it fills you with rage.

but not just that - it's also guilt. you're constantly thinking of what you could've done better or just differently. it's also guilt from the things you just didn't do.

not everything is your own guilt though.

someone you trusted with your life has proven themselves to be a master manipulator and a major guilt tripper.

“you’re making me miserable, why don't you ever care about my feelings?”

but you do.

“you can't say that, not after everything i've done for you!”

everything they did for you?

“i can't live without you. do you want me to hurt myself?”

nothing but big talking.

“if you loved me, you wouldn't do this! i guess you just never cared about us in the first place.”

from all the people, you never cared?

this constant state of fear, the constant feeling of confusion, it's unbearable. everyday is a delicate balancing act, walking on eggshells, trying to avoid any triggers that would cause another outburst of emotions.

even the calm moments are overpowered by the persistent feeling of anxiety. the calm before the storm - as they always say.

you feel trapped - suffocating in a cage, locked away in a musty basement, made from your own self-doubt and guilt.

the person you once loved so dearly has become a stranger. their kindness is replaced by cruelty, their humor is now like rubbing salt into a wound - it makes you question your own worth.

enough with all their toxic palaver. you can't stand it anymore.

everytime you look in the mirror you can see in your own eyes how you're losing your shine. they're dragging you down. with each passing day you feel yourself slipping away, consumed by the endless cycle of manipulation, control and anger.

for once you just wanted some silence.

you know you need to escape, to reclaim your life and most importantly: your sanity. although the whispers of guilt and the fear of the unknown keeps you tethered.

however, there's always hope.

a long and exhausting fight was the last straw. you wait until they go to sleep to go to the bathroom and text your best friend - matty.

“i need you help”

“are you okay? what happened?”

“just pick me up as soon as you can. i need to get out of here”

“I'll be over asap!!”

after 15-20 minutes he text you that he's downstairs. you tell him to come upstairs to help you carry your bags. your most important belongings all packed in bags - scared they'll destroy it once they notice you're gone.

you think about leaving a note behind, but decided not to, they don't deserve this kind of goodbye.

the downtown lights by the blue nile is playing - matty put his ‘hats’ cd in.

you watch the dark buildings pass by. as you drove, the rhythm of passing streetlights and the hum of the engine create a lulling effect, a temporary escape from your turbulent thoughts. the cityscape, a mix of the old and new, felt like a metaphor for your own life - moving forward yet carrying fragments of the past.

finally you arrive and you heave the bags up to matty's own flat. once your hands are empty he embraces you tightly, swaying you around a little.

“you're safe now.” he softly says. as the words strike your ear, a faint smile creeps on your face. it's over now.

“get comfortable on the couch, i’ll bring you some blankets and pillows.”

as he turns around to walk to his bedroom, you start to think: alone on a cold couch. the ticking of his clock would drive you literally insane from your insomnia ridden mind.

“actually-”

matty turns back around, his look is one of curiosity and interest.

“actually, could i maybe…sleep in your bed? just for tonight?” your voice was barely a whisper.

“oh, sure thing! i’ll take the couch then.”

“no i mean…could you stay with me? i just…don't…want to be alone.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

his heart aches when he hears you. just looking at you evokes feelings of pity - you're like a stray puppy. he wants to hold you and tell you that things will get better now. he's certain they will.

he grins. “okay, i’ll stay with you.”

you follow him to the bedroom. since all your stuff is in bags, he gives you some of his clothes - a hoodie and a pair of shorts.

when you come back from the bathroom, now in his clothes, he's already lying in bed. “do you wanna watch something? any comfort movies or series?”

a worn out grin adorns your face. you climb into bed right next to him, telling him what you want to watch.

you snuggle closer, resting your head on matty’s chest, your hand lightly gripping his shirt.

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

matty wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in tighter, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm.

you're focused on the movie, yet he seems to notice that your mind is drifting off here and there.

“you okay?” he glances down at you, smiling faintly.

you nod, eyes focused on the screen but your mind focused on the warmth and safety you feel in this embrace.

“yeah, this is nice.” you whisper.

after a while, matty's fingers slowly drift up to your hair. he begins to gently play with a few strands, letting them run through his fingers. his touch was tender, filled with care and affection.

for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace.