#i've been saving this for a rainy day <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mandycantdecide]

send this to all your favourite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃

<3 <3 <3 <3

[cheriecoke]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ IN ALL THE LINES I'VE READ — nanami kento

summary . . . coffee shop meet cute with literature professor nanami <3

contents . . . sfw, written w f!reader in mind, lit prof nanami tehe, fluff, grumpy nanami, reader is a barista, age gap (nanami early 30s, reader early 20s) — 1.4k

notes . . . selfship coded :,,) this is such a random idea from rylie's brain (and drafts) bc i must post something for my most beloved for valentine’s day <33 i have some other ideas for this so let me know if you like it !!!

The first time you meet Nanami Kento, it’s in a dimly lit cafe in your hometown. 

The evening is just dawning upon you, the grey of the dreary sky turning into a muted black. It’s just after 5pm; the sun already fading into the horizon, drizzly rain coating the windows like crystals. 

You’ve been busy all day — it’s always busy on rainy days, when people seem to recall that the ambience of rain pelting outside mixes well with a cup of warm coffee between your palms. The tables are all full, now that people have gotten off work, and it’s a favorite study spot of many students. 

It’s tiring work sometimes, and there are days where you get weary of the same routine. When saving up money seems like a fruitless effort, and you feel like your life should’ve begun already.

But it’s also good to be around people like this… Seeing them laugh and smile, while you only wonder what they’re talking about. The job pays less, but it’s better than being cooped up in a office all day. 

“Hey,” one of the other baristas sets a latte down, a pattern of milk sitting just on top. “Can you run this to the man over there,” she points to a blonde in the corner of the cafe. 

Wordlessly, you take the mug, wiping the drops of coffee that have spilled over the sides of it. The customer had ordered a pastry as well, one of your favorites. There is a small puff of steam wafting off of it, the bottom of the plate still hot.

The man’s back is towards you, facing the window, and he’s bent over a pile of papers. You can’t see his face — but his hair is done up nicely, and his white button-down sleeves are rolled up to his elbow. There’s a nice watch on his wrist, silver and black; one that’s probably more expensive than anything you own.

It’s a balancing act, weaving through the tables with the pastry and mug in hand, and when you get to his, there’s no room to set his order down. Papers are scattered across the table, and there is a stack of well-loved books beside him. A few are titles you recognize, ones you’ve read, ones you own but haven’t gotten to. Some you know only vaguely. 

“Here’s the latte,” you say, distracted, scanning the spines of the books. The man mutters an apology, and moves his papers so that you can set the coffee and plate down. 

He doesn’t look up at you, offering only a dismissive thank you. But the sound goes unnoticed by you; you’re too preoccupied by your excitement. So few people walk in here with with books you’re actually interested in discussing. 

“I’ve been meaning to read that one,” you say, pointing to a title that is on your long list of books to be read. 

He hums — it’s obvious he doesn’t care, and the sound is just one of acknowledgement.

Embarrassment heats your cheeks as you realize this is probably something he gets often. Upon second glance, he’s attractive… breathtakingly so. He probably fends of hoards of woman, ones who use books to gain the key to his heart, even if they’re only pretending to be interested.

“I enjoyed his other books,” you continue, highlighting the ones that you’ve read and love. At least, then, he’ll know you’re not an idiot, even if he stays silent, eyes glued to the paper. 

His pen stops scratching marks into the sheet, but only for a second. Then, he carries on, unimpressed by whatever slim knowledge you’re able to supply. 

“Are you a teacher?” The words leave your lips, once before you can stop yourself.

He doesn’t care. You aren’t sure why you’re even still bothering. 

“Nope,” he replies, finishing up his summarized commentary, scribbled in a penmanship that is something in between messy and elegant. “A professor.” 

“Oh.” You’d thought he was too young to be a professor, but when you look at home closer, there are faint lines around his eyes, ones even more obvious on his forehead. Around thirty, you’d guess. Maybe even older than that. “That’s interesting.”

You should probably leave him alone. He’s busy, and you’re supposed to be working, and he probably thinks you’re a child, the way you’re talking to him like a brick wall. Yet, there is something about him that keeps you glued to your spot, so intrigued by the stack of novels and the way his hand flexes around the pen. 

“Is it?” There is a hint of irritation in his voice when he finally glances up at you from under the round, wire-rimmed glasses, perched on the bridge of his nose. The pen drops onto the table with a soft click. “Because, I find that—”

His lips part. Whatever he was going to say next seems to die, abruptly cut off, and he blinks at you. Two dark eyes scan your face with a hint of surprise. 

You’re cheeks warm, and you suddenly feel uncomfortable. It’s not typical of you to make conversation with strangers, and you’re certain he notices how awkwardly you’re standing. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, clearing your throat, and pointedly ignoring the lump in it. His silhouette had been striking enough, but it’s nothing compared to the entirety of his face. He’s beautiful — like he’s stepped right out of the pages of a novel himself. He feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, with his stack of books and piercing irises. “I’ll let you get back to grading.” 

“No need to apologize.” The tone shifts a bit, his voice not as rough. Maybe you’re just delusional, but his eyes appear to soften. “I’m almost done, anyway.” 

You nod, and a little smile pulls onto your face. It’s not quite true; the stack of ungraded papers is twice as large as the ones he’s finished. “Well, I should … Get back to work. Enjoy the coffee.” 

He smiles, amused; your heart flips, then sinks all the way down to your stomach, pounding. “Alright. Thank you.”

“Have a good night!” you say, far too quickly, before turning on your heels. Your hands are sweating, and you hope he never comes in again, because you’re not sure that you can stand the embarrassment you feel. 

The blonde professor, name unknown, lets you go, and you slink off to hide in the kitchen, cursing yourself for acting like a fool. With hot cheeks, you down a glass of water, big gulps from your shaking hands, and glare at your co-worker when she grins to herself. 

Thirty minutes later, your shift ends, and the professor has made his way out the door, walking down the sidewalk. As you leave the cafe, your bag over your shoulder and hair undone, you notice that he left one of his novels, the one you’d pointed out to him in the beginning of your conversation. 

You rush out to stop him, carrying the book with you. “Hey,” you shout, waving it to the stranger. “You left this.” 

He glances over his shoulders, bundled up in a coat to combat the brisk air. There’s a redness on his cheeks from the cold, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I know,” he says, hands firmly tucked in his pockets. “You can keep it.” 

“But—” you start, swallowing as the pages rustle with the wind, the cover snapping open. 

“You wanted to read it, didn’t you?” he shrugs. “I’ve got lots of copies. You can give it back to me when you finish.” 

You start to question him, but he’s already turned around, heading away. 

Which means he’ll be back, won’t it? You haven’t scared him away completely. 

You shout something at him, and turns, just halfway, making a face that tells you he didn’t hear you.

“That’s my name,” you say again, repeating it, licking your lips. Your only hope is that he’ll offer his. 

But he doesn’t — he keeps walking down the sidewalk, before he answers a phone call, and crosses the street.

Unsurprising.  

You sigh, gaze dropping down to the book. The pages are filled and filled with his handwriting, notes in the margins, highlights and lines across the words. So much thought had been put into it, that you wonder how many times he’s read this book, if maybe, it’s a favorite. 

The wind flicks the cover back to the front title page, the publisher underneath. In the top right hand corner, Nanami Kento is smoothly written. As if he’d wanted you to discover it yourself, instead of hearing it from his lips.

You trace it, and smile. 

[honey-riley]

Love You To Death || S.R. || 2 || Hang

WARNINGS: a little bit of paranoid Simon, domestic Simon.

wc: 1.9k

1 || 2 || 3

In the morning, Simon's schedule was interrupted for the second time. Honey stood in the shower of their now shared bathroom, preparing for the day. It was already early in the morning - earlier than Simon liked. Simon was the type to wake up pretty early in the morning, but this was too early for him. Checking his watch, it was 3:38 a.m. Soap would never get up this early.

He sat up, rubbing his face, sliding his legs off of his bed. He stretched his aching back out, letting out a grunt. He shuffled over to his closet, grabbing his stuff for the day. He got dressed and put his mask on, checking the weather. Seeing that it was going to be rainy and cold all day, he threw on a sweatshirt as well. The sweatshirt was black and had Lt. Riley on the back, in bold, yellow letters on his shoulders.

He sat back down on his bed since he had a bit more time before he had to be up and about. He grabbed his phone, checking what little social media he had.

All of his social media was private, and never gave any information about him, making sure that it was completely anonymous. He didn't even like having a phone on him — or at all. He knew that if shit hit the fan, and the enemy found his phone, anyone he had in there could be fucked over. He never saved contacts, never had any pictures of anyone, and especially never took pictures with anyone.

Within the next 20 minutes, the shower stopped, and within minutes afterwards, Honey stepped out, dressed in her uniform, her hair tied in a braid that rested between her shoulder blades, tracing along her spine.

"Did I wake you?" She asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Ghost grumbled something in response, not bothering to give her an actual reply. He glanced up, watching as Honey put her boots onto her feet — pushing the tongue out of the way, sliding her foot in, pulling the sides up, ensuring that the ends of her pants went into the boots, and lacing them tight. She tugged on the ends of her pants for a moment, giving them a neater look.

"When is breakfast?" She questioned softly.

"5." Ghost grunted, paying more attention to his phone than her.

"This is temporary, I am temporary. It's not like I'll be here forever." Honey reminded him.

"I know." Ghost replied, glancing up at her for a moment.

For the next hour, Honey sat on her bed, reading a book. The silence and the tension radiating from Ghost was palpable.

As soon as Simon's watch went off, they both stood up, and went to the mess hall. They met with the rest of the team, and Honey sat sandwiched between Price and Gaz. Soap and Ghost sat across from them.

"You did well yesterday, kid." Price smiled as he ate his breakfast.

"Thank you, Captain." Honey said softly with a small nod. She looked down at her food, keeping her eyes off of the team as she ate.

"Four months left with ye?" Soap questioned. Honey nodded again.

"Months?" Ghost said, almost whining. He didn't want to be stuck with her for months.

"Simon, dinnae be a prick." Soap said, nudging him with a disapproving look.

"She thinks she's better than everyone, Soap! She's the one who got the shot, she's the one who walked in here, killed the guy that we've been hunting for years. That was supposed to be my shot!" Ghost growled, starting to get frustrated.

"Step outside, Simon." Price said, standing up and grabbing him by the bicep, getting him to his feet. Price led him outside of the mess hall, shutting the door behind them.

"I don't know what stick got up your ass, but you need to do something about it. I've never seen you act this way." Price said, looking up at Ghost. Though Ghost was the tallest of the team, Price could reduce him down to Simon.

Price was like Ghost's father figure — the father that he never had.

"There's something about her, Price. I'm telling you. I don't like her. She's... off." Ghost replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry, Cap. I know I'm probably being irrational, but I can't stand her. Can we at least transfer rooms or something?" Ghost sighed.

"How about you get some time off, yeah? Time to relax and think. She hasn't done anything to you, correct?" Price asked, his eyebrow raising.

"No, Sir. She hasn't done anything to me. She just gets on my nerves. Like she knows exactly where to pull and push me." Ghost replied.

Price nodded, looking up at him. "We don't have anything going on for these next few days except for paperwork. I'll send you home, and email you the paperwork. You can print it, do it, and then come back with it." Price replied. Ghost nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

With a pat on Ghost's back, Price sent him home.

The next few days were filled with his usual routines, finding the much needed solace in them. He woke up at the same time, watered his plants, read a book, fed his cats, did whatever he needed to.

Simon had two cats, Trooper and Tank. They were brothers — Simon figured getting them both would make it easier on them. They were both Ragdolls, Trooper having a cream colored body, brown paws, and a brown head. Tank had a cream colored body with a cream head, and a brown tail with brown paws. Trooper was the more playful of the two, Tank being the most laid-back.

Simon sat in his recliner, Tank perched on his knee, and Trooper sitting on the back of the recliner as Simon read his book. He had his reading glasses on as he skimmed over the pages. The ringing in his ears from the gunfire that was constantly around him was a thing that he had gotten used to. It served to take his mind off of the incomprehensible silence that always wracked his home.

After about an hour, Simon put his book down, standing up. It was almost 5 pm, which meant that he would have to start making dinner soon.

"What should I have for dinner, boys?" Simon sighed, looking down at the cats that trailed behind him more than his own shadow did. Trooper let out a chirp, and Simon nodded, pretending to understand him.

After a bit of debating with himself, Simon decided on pesto and pasta. Checking the cupboards, he noticed he was out of pasta. He put his shoes on, grabbed his keys, and a black surgical mask and left.

While at the store, he grabbed the necessary things. Standing in line, that's when he realized he forgot his wallet.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath, feeling his pockets. A hand shoved a £20 bill in his hand, and he looked up at the person who did so. It was Honey.

"Don't worry about it." She smiled softly, clearly not recognizing him.

He stared down at her for a moment, refusing to take the money.

"Sergeant." He said under his breath. That's when Honey's face dropped a little. She gave him a nervous smile, motioning for him to take it.

"It's really no problem, Sir." She said softly, watching as he took it out of her hand.

"I owe you." He said getting his groceries. Honey shook her head, buying her own things.

"I told you not to worry."

"I refuse to let this go unpaid."

"Lieutenant."

"I'll let you come over and have dinner, how about that?"

Honey's heart nearly stopped in her chest when he said that. She looked up at him in disbelief, blinking up at him. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"Um.. Yeah. Y-Yeah." She stuttered out. He gave her a nod, and they went back to their cars. Honey followed him to his house, and he let her inside. She glanced around the place, taking her shoes off at the door.

"Listen, I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I understand that you're upset about the shot, and that's completely fair." She said, standing shyly by the door.

"What's unfair is my attitude towards you." He replied, watching as Tank and Trooper peeked out curiously from under the couch. Honey glanced over, a small smile finding her face.

Simon turned back to the stove, getting ready to cook.

"There's beer in the fridge, make yourself comfortable." He announced, getting all of his ingredients for the pesto. Honey nodded, going into the kitchen and grabbing a beer out of the fridge, sitting down at the kitchen island. She watched as he cooked, taking sips off of her beer.

"Where are you from?" He asked, attempting to make small-talk.

"Lübeck, Germany." She replied. "You're from Manchester, right?" She asked.

"How'd you know?" He questioned, his brow furrowed as he cooked.

"Accent." She said softly. He nodded, salting the water as he waited for it to boil.

"Got any friends here?" He asked after a few beats.

"A boyfriend, but he works a lot." She replied. He nodded, watching as the water started to boil. It wasn't enough to put the pasta in, but he was patient.

"What's his name?" Simon asked.

"Benjamin Morgan." Honey replied softly. Simon nodded, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms.

"How long have you two been together?" He asked.

"About a year." She sighed softly. His eyebrow raised as he heard her tone. She didn't sound happy about that. He nodded for her to continue.

"He's a good guy, just.. has some problems." Honey shrugged softly.

"What kind of problems?"

Honey shrugged again, not wanting to get too into it. He nodded, understanding that he shouldn't dig deeper.

He turned, putting the pasta into the water.

"If you need a place to stay, let me know. You can stay here, or I can get a place arranged for you."

Honey's face dropped a little, looking up at him.

"Was I that easy to read?" She murmured under her breath.

"When someone's been through the same thing, they know." Simon replied.

"You're worth more than that, Honey. You don't deserve the shit he's put you through. No matter how much he leans on his problems." He added. Honey's breath caught in her throat as she blinked up at him.

"Thank you." She whispered. He gave a nod, watching as the cats came out.

"That's Trooper and Tank. Tank is the mostly cream one with the brown tail, Trooper is the one with the brown head. The colors fit the personalities. Trooper's a shithead." He said softly.

Honey giggled softly, shaking her head.

"Didn't know you were a cat person."

"Me neither."

Honey's demeanor warmed up a little, the weight lifting off of her chest as she looked down at the cats. They sauntered next to each other, their tails wrapping around each other.

"They're brothers. About four years old." Simon said, glancing down at the cats.

"They're pretty." Honey smiled, watching as the cats sniffed at her. She reached her hand down, letting them get a better smell. Tank rubbed his head against her palm, and Honey took the opportunity to pet him. She glanced into the living room, taking note of the library in the corner.

"You read too?" She asked softly. He nodded.

"What do you read?"

"A bit of everything."

"Romance?"

"Occasionally."

She giggled at that — surprised that a man like him would read something as simple as a romance novel.

"Most people don't guess that one. I like to feel loved as well." He grumbled, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he drained the pasta then put the sauce in.

sorry this one took so long to get out, ya'll. Haven't felt very motivated, but now that I feel like I have the ball rolling, I'll be pumping these out :)

[yona049]

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Part 6

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

Warning!!

>Mind control

>blood

>acid on flesh

>bones snapping

>stalker?

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧!!!

𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀! 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗗𝗖 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝘄𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗗𝗖! ^○^

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

The rain was soft, soft enough to keep a window open for Y/n to breath in the fresh rain smell.

She pulled her heavy, tierd, body off the bed. Rubbing her eyes, she leaned onto the windowsill and listen to the extra angry drivers on the road below.

Y/n's apartment was on the third floor of a 5 story apartment building. Beautifully snuggled in the middle with just enough hight to see a sunset or two when their there.

She takes a deep breath filling her lungs with a well deserved breather, until a very unexpected headache hit her.

A familiar one she'd had before along with a harsh beeping in her head. Loud enough to tone out the rain and hone in on the loud noise.

She grits her teeth and pinches her temple hard feeling her whole body rumble though the piercing headache.

"Y/n?"

Clark's voice comes from behind her and thw headache suddenly stops.

She turns back to see him hesitantly push the door open with his arm. He held two cups of coffee in his hands and wore only some light blue pajama pants.

Without his shirt, Y/n could see his built torso and broad shoulders. She'd never realized how incredibly buff he was underneath that button up shirt and jacket he wore most of the time.

She smiled seeing the glasses he wore slip off his nose only for him to push it back up with the back of his wrist.

"I made some coffee. Can I come in?"

His polite voice instantly evaporated the headache Y/n had brewing in her skull.

"Yeah! Come in."

She bit her lip trying to avoid stareing at his chest and biceps before delicately taking the cup.

Clark had stayed with her the night before to keep an eye on her, aswell as give her some piece of mind.

"Was the couch ok?" Y/n asked leaning onto the windowsill.

Clark nodded before sitting on the foot of the bed. For some people it would be strange having a friend join them for a morning coffee in their bedroom. But for Y/n and Clark they were comfortable enough in each other's presence to share a rainy morning together.

"How are you feeling? Did your hand start bleeding again?"

Y/n lifted her palm to look at the fading scar.

"No? Honestly, I'm surprised it healed up so fast? It's almost Super!"

Clark suddenly chokes on his sip of coffee before regaining composure.

Y/n starts laughing a little before squinting.

"What? Did I say something funny?"

"No! No! Just hot coffee!" he quickly makes up an excuse.

Clark looked at Y/n's worried face for a second before sending a comforting smile her way.

She blushes a little and looks away.

"So! I was thinking about this whole story. The acidic blood? Hallucinations? There's gotta be something big! If Joker is behind this, why not just use Joker venom again? Then two other villains toxins! So I've been looking into other Gotham villains with toxic traits? Then there was.. "

Clark listens to every word Y/n says, absorbing every thought her brain has. But at the same time he couldn't help looking at her figure, a beautiful figure that expressed itself with every passionate movement as Y/n explained.

This moment is unfortunately ruined when Clark's ears pick up a scream across the city. A car crash that lead to a pile up.

He knew as superman he had the responsibility to run off and save the rainy day.

He puts the coffee down and stands up suddenly.

"Clark?" Y/n questions.

He walks over to her and pushes hairs from her forehead. With a warm smile he leans down to her level and places a kiss on her head.

"Hold that thought, I'll go grab us some things from the store and we'll talk over pancakes."

He rushes out the door closing it behind him, leaving Y/n flattered but a little confused at the sudden rush.

"Geuss he was hungry?" she said tracing over the spot on her head where Clark had kissed.

She chuckled and finished her coffee quick.

"I think a shower would be good while he's at the store!"

Taking a towel from the cupboard she walks to the bathroom. Opening the tap, the warm water rushes through the pipes to make a comfortable hissing shower.

Y/n growls still feeling the headache threatening to rush into her brain again.

"Damn! I really need to ask Bats about this. It's getting really loud!"

She blinks a little and steps into a warm shower feeling the water fall over her face.

The warmth of the shower was calming in the cold rainy weather. Her thoughts were finally quiet.

Until her lips twist into a smile and she could feel the water turn heavy.

With an uncontrolled chuckle surprising her, she quickly holds her mouth shut.

"Not again!"

She opens her eyes slowly to see black liquid coming from the shower head. A black liquid filling up the shower floor and holding her feet stead fast.

"Ok! Ok! Breath!" she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes again.

"It's not real! It's not-" she repeated only for a laugh to once again force it's way out of her throat.

She clenches her teeth but the laughing keeps coming until she's finally on her knees holding her head. A spiral of laughter and a ear piercing ringing in her head.

○○○

Superman carried two small boys in his arms and flew over the heap of cars to a crying mother.

"Here! Now go to the paramedics to get checked out!" he ushers them on.

The mother pushes the boys into a stiff hug and thanks superman for his help.

He quickly flew back to the cars and lifted the top one off the pile, placing it right side up on the side of the road.

One by one he lifted before reaching a man hiding in the back seat of a cab. Finally seeing Superman, he is yanked out of the cars and set down on safe ground for paramedics to carry him off on a stretcher.

Using X-ray vision he scans for any other survivers before nodding to the police officers.

"That's everyone! Any other accidents that the paramedics can't get to?"

One of the older officers pushes a button on the walkie talkie buttoned onto his shoulder. He listens for a few seconds before confirmed.

"The rain is picking up! We have another accident on Main street! People forget how to drive when it rains!"

Superman nods.

"On it!"

A sudden sonic boom as he flys off reaching the next accident. A car ran into a fire hydrant and another flipped onto its back.

It's been hours. And Superman was flying through heavy rain to get to all the accidents with car crashes and people slipping from high un-railed rooftops.

Once he could catch a breath the sun had set, but the thick clouds covered the city in a gray darkness.

"Superman!" a dark voice appears on Superman's comm.

He was floating above the city looking over it for anything else he could get to.

"I'm here."

"Good! Are you with the Reporter?"

Superman clenches his teeth and immediately he's flying towards Y/n's apartment.

"No, why?"

Batman's voice is stern.

"The notes she made, gave me some insight to what she was feeling. The ringing she could hear made me do a MRI, scan of the blood sample and I found something worrying."

Superman's speed increases as he does stiff turns around buildings causing the rain to part out of his way and windows to shake. He listened intently as Batman explained.

"A nano-bot. Small robots in the blood stream, from its shape it's built to latch onto a specific type of skin tissue. Brain tissue."

Superman finally lands on the apartment fire escape and rushes through the open window.

"The beeping she described was the nano-bot's getting a signal from somewhere, someone. There's only one person who could develop this kind of intelligent technology, Lex Luthor."

Superman looks through the apartment rushing into Y/n's room seeing her in the corner facing the wall.

Heavy breathing, soft chucking as she hits her head with her palm. She was dressed in a sweater and sweatpants, but shampoo still in her hair and no shoes.

Superman is quick with super speed grabbing her hand stopping her from hitting herself.

"Y/n! Stop, look at me!"

In a string of crescendoing laughter she turns her head to look at superman.

Her eyes were no longer their normal color, instead it was a foggy green with the pupil barely visible.

"Hello Superman." she says with a horrific smile grabbing onto superman's arm.

With a sudden strength she swings superman over her shoulder and he crashes through the brick wall.

Superman is caught off guard just long enough for Y/n to stand straight and drag her nails across the palm of her own hand.

Just before the cement dust could settle Y/n jumps right at superman still three stories high latching onto his body.

With a terrifying smile she pushes her bloody palm down on Superman's cheek causing him to pull away.

"Y/N!" He yells at her watching her fall with a crash into the street below.

Superman grunts in pain feeling a sizzling pain on his face. Pealing away layer by layer superman's cheek turns bloody. Y/n's blood, burns Superman's skin? The man of steel! The superman!

He flies down and lands on the street, to see what had become of Y/n, only to watch her lift her broken body to a stand.

Her bones snapping back into place and wounds healing back up. Clothes ripped but she stood strong enough to laugh a little more.

The blood that remained from her devastating fall had burned through the concrete road until it hit the dirt deep beneath it.

Superman was dumbfounded, but at his sizzling face healed he sped his way towards Y/n giving her a bear hug.

"Y/n! Listen to me! Snap out of it!"

Y/n struggled in his grip kicking and pushing her bloody palm against superman's torso but he didn't budge.

"Ugh! Batman! She's not responding!"

With a second to think. Y/n bites down on her bottom lip suddenly before spitting the blood right into superman's face.

Superman, not used to any pain let's go of her and pulls back. He holds his eye feeling it sizzle and burn.

Y/n runs towards him and kicks superman's side with added inhumane strength. Superman blocks with his forearms and grabs her leg.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/n!"

Not responding Y/n twists her body enough to get out of Superman's grip, just in time for superman's eye to heal back up.

Y/n smirks with fists clenched and her body pushes off the ground going full speed towards superman who bases himself for a another blow.

"That's enough." a voice in Y/n's head says and suddenly her eyes gloss over back to their original color.

She hits Superman's chest with full force then stumbles back.

Her hand quickly covers her nose and she yells in pain.

"Ugh! Holy cheese crackers!"

She slowly looks up at Superman still standing sted fast infront of her causing her to panic.

"What the hell! What happened!" she panics in a muffled voice.

Superman is still cautious but delicately helps her to her feet.

"Your name?"

"Huh?"

"Whats your name?" Superman asks eagerly.

Y/n lifts an eyebrow and pulls her hand away from her nose.

"Y/n L/n."

Still confused she looks around. The road beneath her bare feet broken into bits. Like a wrecking ball was dropped by accident.

A hole in her apartment walll with loose bricks still dropping and loose bits of debris.

There was blood dripping from her nose, knuckles, hands and from cuts on her body.

Her hand delicately moves to her throat and again new claw marks shocked her.

She looks superman dead in the eyes and tries to hold back the lump in her throat that wanted to cause a breakdown.

"Call Batman."

Superman watches her movements, listens to her heartbeat picking up and smelling the salt in her tears.

Not far down the street, a small drone hovers with silent propellers.

Watching Y/n and Superman through the drone camera, in a dark room was Lex Luthor.

His fingers braided together as he watched the screen intently. His office high up in the Lex corp building seemed like the least conspicuous place.

His suit neat and tidy, only for a laughing Joker to stumble his way beside Lex.

"Oh~ why'd you stop! It was just starting to get fun!"

Lex pushes Joker off him and growls.

"This was only a test. We know the Multi-Serum works. And along with the Nano-bots, we can trigger a weapon any time we'd like."

Joker clenches his teeth.

"You said we'd pit Batsy and Superman against each other! Not this pathetic girl!"

Lex walks over to a pin board in the room with many pictures of Y/n and files dedicated to her history pinned onto it.

"Perhaps we got a stroke of luck. Superman would be much less willing to fight an innocent. In the process of trying to save her, she could kill him when his guard is down."

He smirks tracing photo of Y/n with the back of his curled finger.

"This... Y/n, is perfect. She's my best creation-"

"Ehem! Our creation." The voice of Scarecrow objects.

Looking to the side, Lex looked at Scarecrow on the couch with a horrific mask on.

He chuckles and corrects himself.

"Yes, our creation."

[underdark-dreams]

WIP Preview: Birds & Bees Ch.3

Have been slowly cooking on a doozy of a final chapter for my Rolan x Tav rut fic Birds and Bees, featuring plenty of smut, feelings, and smut-with-feelings. (why not all three?)

But first a preview of the pure smut, for everyone who has followed & patiently waited for updates! I love you all!

“I should take a sample of your blood this week,” Tav said with sudden inspiration. “Blood alchemy during a heat cycle…not sure it’s ever been tried.”

“Really?” Rolan was kissing idly across her shoulder blades while she lay reading on her stomach. “If you truly want to, I’d give you a vial. Not sure what applications you'd expect to get out of it.”

“I can think of one very lucrative one.”

She flipped through a few more pages before she caught Rolan looking at her quizzically.

“Aphrodisiacs?” She gave a wave of her hand, as if it was quite obvious. “If I could bottle up some of that magic, I'd be a rich woman.”

Rolan looked a bit scandalized before he caught the corners of her mouth twitching. His eyes glinted.

“You’re insufferable.” He clicked his tongue at her. “I’ve trusted you during a very delicate time, you know.”

“Hmmm.” She continued lazily through her book. “Maybe I'll just save it up for myself, then. You only go into rut every year or two, don't you? I might want to store away some of that virility for a rainy day.”

“You absolute menace—”

She felt a thrill like that of a misbehaving child before Rolan pounced on her. His hands landed beside her elbows as his warm weight pressed her body deliciously into the mattress.

“I'm perfectly capable of getting you off any time of any year.” The thick ridges of his length slid hard over her rear, punctuating his statement.

“But I've never slept with you outside your cycle, have I? I'd have no way of knowing,” she protested lightly, though the way she arched and rubbed back against his cock undercut her teasing completely.

Rolan nipped at a spot behind her shoulder that made her shiver, and his baritone ghosted beside her ear. “I can think of a few well-proven methods.”

His fingers reached to drag her prop book away out of her grip. Then his body heat left her. Before Tav could look back, she felt his hands hook under the front of her pelvis and tug, lifting her ass upward off the mattress. He kept pulling until she’d been forced to scoot her knees all the way up under her hips and drop her shoulders.

With her chest pressed down against the sheets and her ass propped vulgarly upward, she felt an exposing rush of cool air across the wet spot between her legs. More aching desire was already pooling at her entrance, and she was certain Rolan was taking a very long look at the view she was presenting him.

Just as she tried to crane her neck against the sheets to see his face, Rolan’s hot breath ghosted across her cunt.

A trembling whine caught in her throat. She found herself arching her back as far as she could, giving him a full view and complete access, shamelessly eager for the feel of his mouth on her.

Rolan’s fingers cupped around her thighs. When the tip of his nose brushed near her entrance, she heard him inhale deeply against her.

The small gesture was obscene and shockingly arousing. She bit back a gasp. She throbbed between her legs and felt a drop of slick leak out and roll down her inner thigh. Without pause, Rolan’s hot tongue swept it from her skin.

“Gods,” he groaned, and she felt his mouth vibrate against her thigh. “You are utterly delicious. Do you know what you do to me?”

[ivyprayedtoday]

  Chapter Eighteen: A Vision or a Memory? (Sabo x Reader)

Chapter Eighteen: A Vision or a Memory? Chapter Seventeen: Cooking Up Memories Warnings: Suggestive Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Just wanted to let you know that I'm currently dealing with a bad case of writer's block. Now that I finally have some free time and am not using writing as a way to avoid studying for my finals, it seems like I've been slowing down a bit. I'll do my best to stay consistent, but I can't guarantee I'll be posting daily for the time being. Thank you for your patience, and I appreciate all the support! Much love to you all. <3

[Name] sat slumped in her chair, staring down at a small pile of documents she was supposed to review. Though the workload was light, her focus had been slipping all day, her thoughts persistently drifting elsewhere.

With a sigh, she slid open a drawer, retrieving a bounty poster that had been tucked away. 

Holding it up, she studied the image—a straw-hatted boy grinning fearlessly under a bold, scrawled reward of thirty million berries. “Who is this boy?” she murmured to herself, her brows knitting together. The questions swirling in her mind offered no answers.

Before she could sink further into her thoughts, a pair of hands covered her eyes. “Hey, Princess,” a familiar voice teased.

“Blondie,” she greeted.

Sabo’s gaze dropped to the bounty poster in her hands. “Is that the boy from Loguetown?”

“Yup,” she replied, popping the ‘p.’ “He’s been on my mind for the past week.”

Sabo chuckled, leaning casually against the edge of her desk. “He must’ve made quite an impression on you, huh?”

Her mind flashed back to the rainy streets of Loguetown. She saw herself trailing after Dragon, her boots splashing through puddles, the chaotic scene unfolding before her eyes: the straw-hatted boy declaring his dream to become the Pirate King.

She blinked, dragging herself back to the present. “Hard to forget a guy who shouts, ‘I’m the man who’ll become the Pirate King’ with a sword to his throat,” she joked.

Sabo smirked, though his interest seemed piqued. “What else happened? Is that all it takes to get your attention?”

Her thoughts wandered again, unbidden. She remembered Dragon disappearing into the crowd just before the boy’s miraculous escape. The way he had reappeared at a critical moment to save the boy… It didn’t make sense. Why would Dragon risk exposing himself for a pirate?

“Dragon had his eye on him,” [Name] admitted, her tone serious now. “But every time I ask, he dodges the question or kicks me out of his office. I’ve never seen him avoid a topic so hard.”

Sabo’s expression shifted, his grin turning playful. “Well, he’s always been one to keep to himself. Maybe… it’s his secret love child?”

Silence fell between them. 

The absurdity of the idea hung in the air before they both burst into laughter. Sabo doubled over, slapping the desk, while [Name] leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach.

“I can’t imagine Dragon finding anyone interesting enough for that,” [Name] wheezed.

“Or willingly touching anyone,” Sabo added, wiping a tear from his eye. “He’s way too… emotionally constipated.”

Their laughter settled, and Sabo’s gaze flicked back to the bounty poster. “Seriously, though, what’s so special about this guy? Now that you mention it, Dragon’s never done anything like that before.”

Her eyes lingered on the boy’s smiling face, the image overlaying the memory of him standing triumphantly amidst the chaos in Loguetown.

“Whatever the reason is, it must be a good one,” [Name] mumbled. “This is killing me!”

Sabo took the paper from her hand, focusing on the image. “In all honesty, he does seem a bit familiar,” Sabo leaned on her desk. “But maybe it’s just my imagination. Anyway,” he added, a sly grin creeping across his face, placing down the bounty. “It’s a good thing we’re finally getting some peace and quiet around here. I don’t think I could’ve handled another week without privacy.”

[Name] rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re telling me. Sharing a room with someone who snores loud enough to shake the walls? Absolute nightmare.”

“Yeah, well, at least your roommate didn’t walk in on us. Twice,” Sabo shot back, his expression half-amused, half-exasperated. “I’m pretty sure I’ve developed a sixth sense just to avoid them.”

She laughed, tilting her head to the side. “Hence the genius idea to become ‘roommates,’ huh?”

“Genius?” he echoed, raising a brow. “I seem to recall you saying, ‘If I have to deal with one more awkward interruption, I’m throwing myself out a window.’”

“Dramatic, but accurate,” she conceded, chuckling. “Well, now instead of my roommates snoring, I get to be woken up by yours. But I can’t complain seeing as the room is much more spacious.”[Name] leaned back in her chair, smirking. “Guess it comes with the territory of sleeping with the soon-to-be second in command.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Not this again. It’s just a rumor, [Name]. I don’t even have the title!”

“Sure, sure,” she teased, waving him off. “But you’ve been acting like one for months now. The commanders listen to you. Dragon listens to you. You even get private meetings with him where the two of you plot things. And let’s not forget this lovely, spacious room.” She gestured dramatically to their shared quarters, her grin widening.

Sabo crossed his arms, trying to hide his growing smile. “Okay, first of all, the room is because Dragon knew we were planning on moving in together and not because of special privileges. And second,” he leaned down, meeting her gaze, “if I were to receive that kind of promotion, you’d be the first to know.”

“Right,” she said, feigning seriousness. “Because I’d be sleeping with him.”

Her deadpan delivery cracked him, and he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” she said, grinning.

He sighed, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Fine, enjoy your ‘perks.’ Guess I got to start charging you more for your perks, huh?” Sabo pulled out the chair next to her desk and flopped into it, stretching his arms behind his head. “So, when are we christening this ‘spacious’ room with a proper celebration? We’ve got privacy now.”

[Name] raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You mean besides that bottle of sake we shared on move-in day? Because if you’ve got ideas, Blondie, I’m all ears.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” he said, winking, before leaning closer. His voice dropped to a low murmur, just enough to make her cheeks warm. “But they all require that nobody knocks on our door for at least an hour.”

Before [Name] could respond, the door burst open without so much as a knock. Koala stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her face a mix of amusement and exasperation. Why does this always happen?

“Seriously?” Koala said, eyeing the pair. “You’ve been together for two years now but you two still haven’t learned to get a lock? Get a damn lock.”

[Name] groaned, her head falling into her hands. “Maybe some people need to understand privacy. Even if there’s no lock, this still is our room.”

Koala snorted, clearly unimpressed by [Name]’s attempt at reclaiming privacy. “Oh, I understand privacy, trust me. But when you leave the door wide open like that…” She gestured dramatically toward the door frame. “It’s basically an invitation.”

Sabo sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “What do you want, Koala? Because if it’s another lecture on basic boundaries, I’d rather save it for Dragon.”

Koala ignored him, stepping further into the room. “I’m here for the document [Name] promised Dragon.”

[Name] cursed her luck, returning her attention to the work she still had to finish. She raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m not done with everything yet.”

Koala crossed her arms, a bit shocked at [Name]’s statement. “You’re not done? Wait, am I in the wrong room? This is [Name]’s room, right?”

[Name] shot Koala a dry look. “Yes, Koala, this is my room, and no, I’m not done. But thanks for pointing it out.”

Koala raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You’re usually the type to have everything in order by now. I didn’t expect you to be the one scrambling to finish something, especially with such a small load. That’s Sabo’s job.”

[Name] flinched at Koala’s comment. “I’m not scrambling, I’m just... dealing with other things,” she muttered, her fingers tapping against the edge of the desk.

Koala tilted her head, giving her a curious look. “Other things? Like what? You’ve been off all day.”

[Name] could feel another lecture bubbling in Koala. 

Sabo stepped in, leaning against the desk and giving both women an exasperated look. “She’s fine. You know how she gets when she’s got too much on her mind.”

[Name] didn’t meet either of their gazes. She was trying to focus, but it was hard. That damn bounty poster kept pulling her back. That damn goofy boy.

Koala's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “[Name]...”

“You’re awfully impatient, Koala,” Sabo jumped in smoothly, giving [Name] a little breathing room. Sabo leaned over the desk, his tone light but deliberately distracting. “Got a hot date or something tonight?”

Koala’s cheeks flushed faintly as she scratched her cheek, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “No… Why would you think that?”

Sabo smirked, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh, really? Because from what I hear, you’ve got quite the line of admirers.”

[Name] perked up at the mention of admirers, feeling the urge to chime in. Just as she opened her mouth to join the teasing, she felt a light nudge against her leg. Sabo shot her a subtle look, silently telling her to stay on task. She grumbled under her breath, turning back to her papers and scribbling furiously to finish her work.

“It’s not like that, and you know it,” Koala said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I just can’t seem to get them off my back.”

“Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, Miss Popular,” Sabo said with a playful grin.

Koala crossed her arms, smirking. “You should be careful throwing words like that around, Sabo. Last I checked, you’re the one who’s always getting stopped in the halls by half the women here.”

[Name] snorted, unable to hold back her amusement. “She’s got a point. You are ridiculously popular for someone who’s technically not even second-in-command yet. It’s practically a cult.”

Sabo groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “Not you too, Princess. I thought you were on my side.”

“Oh, I am,” [Name] said sweetly, not even looking up from her papers. “But facts are facts, Blondie.”

Koala chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Looks like even your girlfriend can’t save you from the truth. But you also got a lot of admirers, too.”

“I could take them all on, not sweat,” Sabo interjected, not giving [Name] time to process Koala’s comment. “No one gets to admire [Name] but me.”

Koala rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to [Name]. “Seriously though, you’re almost done, right?”

“Almost,” [Name] muttered, flipping through the final pages. “One more signature…” Sabo leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand as he watched her scribble the final signature with a flourish. “There. Done.” [Name] capped her pen with a triumphant click and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. 

Koala let out a small sigh of relief. “Great. Now I can stop being the middleman between you and Dragon.”

“Middlewoman,” Sabo corrected with a teasing grin. “But yeah, thanks for your service, Koala. You’ve been invaluable.”

Koala shot him a mock glare. “Don’t push your luck, Commander.”

“Commander, huh?” [Name] quipped, stacking the papers neatly. “Sounds kind of hot. Maybe I should start calling him that.”

Sabo tilted his head, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “If you say it like that, how could I possibly say no?”

Koala raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorway. “[Name], stop turning Sabo on.”

“Oh, but it’s so much fun,” [Name] replied sweetly, a sly expression spreading across her face. She turned her gaze back to Sabo, eyes glinting with mischief. 

Koala snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just go and get those papers to him.”

Sabo chuckled, grabbing the stack of papers and tucking them under his arm. “Relax, Koala. You’re going to grow white hair if you keep stressing yourself out.” 

Koala smacked the back of Sabo’s head, earning an ‘ouch’ from the man. “Let’s go.” 

[Name] stuck out her tongue, taunting Sabo for getting hit.

Koala turned. “Don’t think I won’t smack you too.”

[Name] straightened up, sulking a bit before getting up. “Fine,” she defeatedly said, pulling Sabo with her. “Since you’re holding the papers, I’ll have you come along.”

Sabo allowed himself to be dragged along, a smirk still playing on his lips. “Not that I mind being manhandled, but you could’ve asked nicely, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t ask,” [Name] shot back with a grin. “I demand. Isn’t that right, Commander?”

Koala rolled her eyes, following close behind. “Here we go again.”

The three exited the room, and as they entered the hallway leading to Dragon’s office, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The low hum of activity echoed around them, voices murmuring, papers shuffling, boots clicking against the polished floor. When they finally arrived at Dragon’s door, Sabo knocked firmly before stepping inside, with [Name] and Koala close behind.

Dragon was seated at his desk, peering over a map spread out before him. He glanced up as they entered, his sharp gaze briefly flickering to the stack of papers in Sabo’s hands. “Ah, good. I wanted to talk to you three, anyway.”

As they placed the documents on Dragon’s desk and began discussing the plans, Dragon’s expression remained calm, though his eyes carried a weight that made [Name] uneasy. She couldn’t help but feel that he knew more than he let on, and he was hiding something bigger that they didn’t know about. While she trusted him, an itch of curiosity grew at the back of her mind.

“You seem to be out of it, [Name],” Dragon said, his sharp gaze scanning her. “Everything all right?”

[Name] blinked, startled out of her thoughts and quickly nodded, perhaps a little too fast. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice steady but her stomach twisting.

Sabo chuckled, nudging her shoulder lightly. “She’s probably thinking about that kid from Loguetown. The one with those stretchy abilities. Apparently, he ate a Devil Fruit, the Gomu Gomu no Mi I think.”

The words hit [Name] like a trigger. Her breath caught as her vision began to blur. The room around her dimmed and twisted until it was no longer the familiar office she stood in.

Instead, she was in a vast, ominous chamber. The air was thick and cold, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint sound of her own shallow breathing. Five towering figures stood before her, their faces obscured by shadows, and she felt their gazes burning into her. Behind them, a massive, foreboding throne loomed, and on it sat a dark figure with piercing red eyes.

[Name] froze, her body unwilling to move. The figure on the throne seemed to look right through her, and her legs trembled beneath the weight of his presence. At the foot of the throne, two figures lay sprawled on the ground. Her parents.

Her mother, though battered and bloodied, was barely conscious. A bandaged hand reached weakly toward [Name], trembling as if trying to convey something important. Her lips moved soundlessly, and though her words didn’t reach [Name], the desperation in her eyes struck her like a blade.

Panic rose in [Name]’s chest. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. All she could do was stand there, paralyzed, as the black figure’s glowing red eyes bore down on her.

“Princess?” The sound of Sabo’s voice yanked her back to the present. Her vision cleared, and the dark room dissolved, replaced by the concerned faces of Sabo, Dragon, and Koala.

[Name] blinked rapidly, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt sick, her head spinning as she tried to ground herself.

“Are you okay?” Sabo asked, his voice low and concerned. “You look pale.”

She forced a smile though her lips trembled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… zoned out, I guess. Thinking about that straw-hatted boy. He’s a stretchy man, right?”

Sabo hesitated, his eyes scanning her face as if searching for something deeper. “Yeah… stretchy,” he said slowly.

Koala and Dragon exchanged a look, both clearly sensing something was amiss. Sabo remained focused on [Name], his concern written all over his face.

“I think I need to lie down,” [Name] said suddenly, pressing a hand to her temple as a sharp headache throbbing behind her eyes. “Sorry. I guess I’m just tired.”

“Of course,” Dragon said, his tone calm but his gaze piercing. “Go rest. We can handle the rest of this.”

Sabo reached out, his hand lightly brushing her arm. “Let me walk you back.”

She shook her head, stepping back quickly. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

Without waiting for further protests, she turned and left the room, her legs trembling as she walked. She could feel their eyes on her back, but she didn’t look back.

Once she was alone in the quiet of her quarters, she collapsed onto her bed, clutching her head as the memory or vision, or whatever it was, played in her mind on an endless loop. Who were those men? What was that place? Why did it feel so real? Those red eyes…The questions swirled until her headache became unbearable, and she closed her eyes, hoping for sleep to take her away from the storm raging in her mind.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FLUFFBRUARY FIC] A Sweet Romance Beginning In a Queue

Rated: T Word Count: 4551 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, human AU, rain, writer!Dream, professor!Hob, song-based meet-cute, clumsy metaphors

Notes: This is springboarding entirely from Bus Stop by The Hollies; shoutout to @valeriianz for suggesting this song would make a great Dreamling fic many many months ago. I thought Fluffbruary Day 3 would be a good opportunity to bang it out real quick but uh. It didn't want to flow, so I've just been rolling additional days into it all month. Also went a wee bit off-script from the song but. I'm pleased enough with what it's turned out to be. Prompts listed at the end.

Summary: Bus stop, wet day, he's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'

On AO3

It's the first day of the new term and the sky is overcast, threatening rain as Hob steps off the bus at his connecting stop. He's got his umbrella and his overcoat and his bag is water-resistant; his stop on the other end is very near the college and he's feeling well-prepared should the weather follow through on its threat.

Which of course it does, not half a minute later, and Hob deploys his umbrella with a sigh. There are a handful of other people waiting at the stop who do the same.

And one who does not.

He's pale and pretty, and tall, and dark—dark trousers, dark peacoat, dark hair, which is well on its way to getting thoroughly soaked as the skies open up in earnest. He appears to be lacking an umbrella entirely. Hob, who these days makes conscious effort to be a Good Samaritan whenever he can, and who also maybe thinks that attractively-pale men dressed in black who forget their umbrellas are worth at least a 'hello', moves quickly.

"Share my umbrella? Please." He's holding it over the guy as he speaks, but they'll have to squish up a bit to get maximum benefit for either of them.

"…Thank you," the guy says, shuffling closer; their shoulders touch. He is stiff, awkward, and yeah okay Hob can understand; courtesy in rainy weather or not, they're still complete strangers.

"Hell of a day to forget your umbrella, yeah?" Hob rolls his shoulders and shifts, putting himself more or less back-to-back with the guy so they fit better.

"Quite," comes the answer. His voice is low and rumbly, pleasantly dark without being bass-deep; it's oddly appealing.

Hob shrugs. "We've all been there. And hey, I'm glad to share."

"Again. Thank you." There's a touch more warmth this time, and Hob smiles to himself.

They pass a moment in silence, save for the drumming of rain against the umbrella and the splashing of cars in the street, and then the bus is pulling up to the stop. The guy steps toward it, first in line, and Hob follows with the umbrella, then lets the other three people board ahead of him.

Which means, once he's boarded and tapped in, the only open seat is serendipitously next to his slightly-soggy goth stranger. Who makes eye contact and holds it as Hob approaches, scoots just that little bit closer to the window to make clear he doesn't mind Hob taking the seat beside him, and Hob is quietly thrilled at the subtle welcome.

"Are you a conversationalist, or a ride-in-silence enthusiast?" he asks, as the bus lurches into motion.

"Ordinarily, the latter," the guy admits, glancing briefly at Hob. "But, as I stormed out with neither book nor earbuds, and I find myself with a chivalrous seat partner, perhaps I could be persuaded to the former just this once."

"Very kind, thank you," Hob says, with a smile. "'Stormed out' doesn't sound promising; feel like unburdening to a friendly ear? I'd be happy to listen, if so. Or find something else entirely to talk about if not."

His stranger turns to the window, watching the rivulets of rain trailing over the glass; there is a brief lull before he speaks. "I find myself creatively blocked, and my sister's attempts to be helpful. Were not." He sighs. "I left the house to clear my head, before saying anything truly unkind."

"Smart," Hob agrees. He could listen to this guy talk all day, his rumbly words and his dark-velvety voice.

"'Smart' would have been making certain to grab more than just my phone and wallet." There's a pretty little scowl accompanying the words, that rosy mouth plumped out in the faintest pout visible in his reflection in the window, and Hob is smitten.

"That may be, but then I'd hardly have had reason to say hello, and we'd both be sitting here reading our books politely ignoring one another. Silver lining?"

"Perhaps," the guy says, but it sounds agreeable enough. Hob likes to think he's a decent judge of unspoken communication and that he could tell if he was being a bother. Currently his stranger is glancing over Hob's bag and his attire with a curious and observant eye, posture reserved but not closed off, and Hob figures he's doing alright.

"Where are you headed, then—work?" the guy asks.

"Yeah, I teach at the college, medieval history, now and then a class in medieval lit too."

The guy's attention goes from merely polite to genuinely interested. "Oh?"

"Yep!" Hob's heart rate bumps up a notch at the light in those (gorgeous) blue eyes; the sudden intensity of this stranger's focus is heady.

He's turned in his seat, angled to somewhat face Hob, gaze bright, expression open. "I imagine that is a difficult sell to many students."

"Oh my friend, you have no idea!" Delighted with his good fortune, Hob launches into tales of his most recalcitrant classes and the victories he's won in inciting and maintaining student interest. He's good at talking, and enjoys doing it, and this pretty stranger is paying genuine attention to him, and so Hob prattles on enthusiastically as the bus trundles steadily through the rain.

~ "This is me," Hob says, as the bus pulls up to the college stop. "It was delightful chatting with you, and I hope your day improves from here!"

"It already has, thank you."

The tiny smile that the stranger offers in parting buoys Hob's spirits all the way to his office.

~ Tuesday is miserably wet again and Hob checks for his stranger at the bus stop, hopeful (yes alright, perhaps he's got a bit of a crush), but there's no sign of him. It's earlier than it was yesterday though, on account of his 8 a.m. lecture this morning, so there's no reason to think he'd be there again. Plus he'd talked about 'storming out' and 'clearing his head'; it wasn't like this stop was a daily transfer point the way it was for Hob.

Chances were good they'd never cross paths again.

~ Wednesday it's less a downpour and more a light shower, but it's still enough that an umbrella is practical.

And Hob is absolutely delighted as he steps off his first bus to see that Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Emo is there again, and again without an umbrella, hunched ineffectually into the collar of his coat and resembling nothing so much as a disgruntled wet cat. He perks up distinctly as Hob approaches with his umbrella angled forward in offering.

"You gallantly come to my rescue yet again." He tilts his head and glances up through lush black lashes, just this side of coy. "I thank you, sincerely, Mr…?"

"Hob, I'm Hob. Just Hob. You can call me Hob." Not his most suave, certainly, but this blatantly-flirtatious greeting atop his own delight has somewhat stolen his functioning brain cells.

"Hob," the guy repeats, unhurried, like he's savoring the taste of the name in his mouth, and smiles just a little bit. "You may call me Dream."

"Pleased to run into you again, Dream." Hob dimples brightly, delighted with the turn his day has taken, delighted that they've made proper introductions. "How was the head-clearing, the other day?"

"Effective." The guy—Dream—crowds close under the umbrella (Hob's largest, which he had pulled out yesterday just in case) and smooths the clinging water from his hair with one hand. His (damp) shoulder is firmly pressed against Hob's and his profile is absolutely beautiful, this close. Hob tries not to stare.

"Got your creativity flowing again, did it?"

"I managed to finish a very troublesome chapter Monday evening, yes."

Hob perks up at this new tidbit of information. "You're a writer, then?"

He gives a short nod, staring out into the rain, then glances sideways at Hob. "I have you to thank for my progress, also."

"Me?"

"The stories you shared…you inspired a direction for the scene that was plaguing me. I came out yesterday, with intent to thank you, but you were not here…?"

His voice lilts up just a touch on the end of his sentence, curiosity expressed without actually voicing the question, and Hob just smiles. "Yeah, Tuesday's my early-morning class. Sorry I missed you."

"No matter. I have now left the house three days in a row and my sister is distressingly pleased about it. She says it is good for my mental health."

"And what do you think?"

He sighs, heavily. "She is not incorrect." He glances sideways at Hob again, eyes narrowed prettily. "But I am not going to admit it to her."

Hob laughs; he can't help it. "You are so completely valid for that," he says, and when Dream smiles in return his spirits soar.

~ "Remembered your umbrella this time, I see!" Hob ignores the little pang of disappointment; just because he doesn't need to share his umbrella with Dream this time doesn't mean they can't still have a conversation.

"My sister reminded me, yes," Dream answers, and then to Hob's great surprise he lowers and closes the umbrella. "But I would prefer to share yours, if you're amenable." His eyes flick up, just a hint of hopeful uncertainty showing there.

"Of course." Hob moves close, brings his umbrella over Dream's head, heart thudding in his chest with delight. He hopes the great spreading grin on his face doesn't put Dream off; he can't quite get it under control.

If Dream notices, he gives no indication. "This routine is working well for me," he says, and it takes Hob a second to cotton on to what he means.

"What, catching the bus in the rain every morning?"

"Yes," Dream says serenely. "The company is. Refreshing." The corners of his mouth tilt up the smallest bit.

"Nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Hob says, making a valiant effort to sound normal while something warm blooms in the vicinity of his heart. He shifts the umbrella, making sure they're both still sheltered.

"Writing flows more easily when I return home after our morning conversations," Dream says, as if this is something they've been doing for weeks instead of just days. "I shall have to credit you in my author's notes."

Hob laughs, absolutely delighted. "That is extremely flattering, my friend, but wholly unnecessary. But if I'm at all helpful? I'm glad."

One day maybe he'll ask if he can see Dream's writing, when they've been acquainted for more than a week; one day further, perhaps, he'll ask him on a date. It certainly seems he'd be amenable, but Hob knows himself and his tendency to rush in full-tilt and tells himself there's no harm in just. Seeing what happens, for a little while.

~ "Share my umbrella?"

Dream looks askance at him, hair fluttering prettily across his forehead in the breeze. "It is not raining, Hob."

"Well no, but. Bit windy, isn't it? Wouldn't want you to suffer any windburn. Umbrella makes a decent wind-break." He has oh-so-smoothly said 'wind' three times in ten seconds, and it is the flimsiest of excuses to begin with, but Dream only smiles as if he's said something profoundly wise.

"Indeed. Truly, I am fortunate to receive your continued chivalry." He crowds in close to Hob, who angles the umbrella behind them to keep the wind off, and smiles.

~ The other patrons at the bus stop are giving Hob weird looks as he opens his umbrella, but there's only one person here whose opinion matters.

Dream tilts one eyebrow up, amused. "The sun is shining today, Hob Gadling. Yet still you offer your umbrella?"

"It's tradition, at this point. And besides—got a very fair complexion, haven't you? Bit of shade will do you good."

"…As you say." His smile is radiant as the sunshine, and Hob's heart thumps happily. "Thank you."

~ It's been about a month since that first meeting when Hob leaves campus for the afternoon and finds Dream waiting at the college bus stop. The morning's rain has cleared throughout the day but now rises again as a light drizzly mist; Dream is huddled into the meager shelter offered over the bench while pulling out his umbrella. Hob hurries over with his own already deployed, playing into their established pattern.

"Fancy meeting you here?" he greets, smiling. He's delighted to run into Dream outside their developed routine, and the way that Dream kind of blooms to see him is very satisfying.

"Hob. At last," Dream smiles, ducking under Hob's broad umbrella.

"Been waiting long?"

"…Somewhat. You see. I have. A question, I would like to ask you. An important one." The gravity in his tone is clear, and Hob might be worried if it wasn't so plainly obvious that Dream was nervous. "But I do not know your schedule, beyond your morning commute, and so…"

"Have you just been hanging around half the day waiting for me to show up?" Hob is equal parts appalled and delighted.

Dream meets his eyes briefly, glance flicking away again too quickly to interpret as anything other than confirmation. "Perhaps."

Hob laughs, aware he should possibly be alarmed by what any normal person would read as stalking behavior but utterly charmed by it instead. "Your patience has its reward, then. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I…ah." Dream colors prettily, the faintest pink flush across his cheeks as he stumbles over actually speaking his question, and Hob is rapidly escalating from 'charmed' to 'enamoured'. "I am not. Good, at—at—"

"Obviously it was important enough to identify my most likely location and wait hours for me to show up, right?" Hob cuts in gently. "Go ahead. I promise I won't judge you." He can hear the fondness seeping into his own voice, and apparently so can Dream. He lifts wide eyes to Hob, lips pressed together resolutely, and heaves a fortifying breath out through his nose.

"I wish to ask. Would you like to have dinner sometime. Or. Or coffee, perhaps."

The bus pulls up at that exact moment, disgorging a single passenger; Hob barely hesitates before waving the driver on.

"That was our bus?" Dream states, lilting up in such a way that it's clear he means Why did we not board, why are we still standing here?

"Well, yes," Hob agrees, very aware of the size of the dopey grin on his face. "But you see, a very dear friend of mine has just asked if I might like a bite to eat with him, and I know the most amazing little spot right around the corner."

"That. That is 'yes', then? Now?" Dream seems delightedly flummoxed, and it ratchets Hob straight up to 'besotted'. How could Dream think he'd ever say anything else? Although it occurs to him belatedly Dream might have other obligations for the evening.

"Well 'now' is certainly 'sometime', yes? If you're free, that is. If you've something else you have to do—"

"No. Nothing else," Dream cuts him off, and the warm smile spreading over his face makes Hob's heart skip a beat. "There is nowhere I should like to be more, just now."

Of course not, not when he'd dedicated the bulk of his day to waiting for Hob just to ask him out. "Wonderful. Shall we?" He offers his arm, angling the umbrella to keep the misty sprinkle off them still.

Dream tucks a hand into his elbow and falls into step beside him.

~ "Wanna try mine?" Hob offers, plucking a crispy slab of cheese from his plate with a bit of everything on it and holding it out, other hand cupped underneath. They are talking over plates of halloumi fries; Hob had gone for his favorite—smothered in pomegranate molasses and za'atar yoghurt with pomegranate arils and fresh mint garnish—and Dream had taken his drizzled in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

"Thank you, I am fine," Dream says, rote politeness in his voice but curiosity in his eyes, and Hob arches a brow.

"Worried you'll have to spend a month stuck with me for each pomegranate seed?"

"That would hardly dissuade me," Dream replies, with a sweet little smile that hits Hob straight in the gut. "Very well, since you offer so generously." He leans forward, grasps Hob's wrist instead of the proffered food, and bites through the warm-crusted cheese while Hob's still holding it, lips brushing Hob's fingers as he pulls back.

He chews, making a contemplative face, and gently plucks the rest of it from Hob's hand while Hob is still scrambling to reboot his poor blue-screening brain and not make a fool of himself.

"Do you know," Hob blurts, grasping for anything, "whatever Persephone might have eaten in the underworld, it would've bound her there the same? It wasn't just because it was a pomegranate?"

"I did know that, yes," Dream replies, and Hob feels the flush of having said something fairly stupid rising into his face. "The pomegranate is a tidy choice for enumerating the months she stays below, I think, with the countable seeds." He plucks one of the ruby-red arils from the cheese that Hob had given him between two delicate fingertips and places it in his mouth, eyes on Hob in a way that makes him lose his brain again.

"Yes that's. Good point," Hob tries, and thankfully Dream pops the rest of the halloumi fry into his mouth without any fanfare or continued eye contact.

"I can see why you like this," Dream says, once his mouth is empty. "It is a wonderful blend of flavors. But the honey-sesame remains my favorite." He takes a bite from his own plate, and Hob tries not to fixate on the casual way he licks the honey off his rose-petal lips.

"I wrote an alternate version of Persephone's story, once," Dream says then, eyes not exactly meeting Hob's or even on his face, darting between his shoulder and his sternum and dropping back to his plate. "I made it her choice; they met and fell in love long before the abduction, which was closer to an elopement. She ate the pomegranate seeds deliberately so as not to be taken away from the partner she had chosen. In my version, it was the pomegranate specifically that would bind her."

"That sounds brilliant," Hob says, feeling a little starry-eyed; Dream has never really talked specifics about his writing before. "I'd love to read it sometime."

"It. Was many many years ago, before I ever considered publication," Dream admits, barely glancing up at Hob, still a little skittish. "I thought it a unique idea at the time, but there are dozens of Persephone remixes to be had and I have never felt it warranted the effort of reworking it from my current skill level or attempting to publish."

"Well for what it's worth, your version is the remix I'd be most interested in reading," Hob says, utterly sincere, smiling from ear to ear. "If you ever wanted to share, that is." He bites into another halloumi fry and speaks around it. "I would never pressure you to let me read your stuff if you don't want to. But I'm always interested."

"…Thank you." Dream covers his awkwardness with another dainty bite from his own plate, a hint of pink dusting across his cheekbones. When his mouth is empty again, he offers, "Mostly I have written. Romance."

"Oh?"

"Not under my own name. But yes."

"See it's fascinating that pseudonyms are so prevalent through the ages, and for so many reasons," Hob starts, and as the conversation turns in this new direction Hob does not miss how Dream relaxes to have the focus shifted from the vulnerable personal glimpse of himself he'd offered.

And Hob maybe falls a little bit deeper.

~ It's still lightly raining three hours later; they've talked about so many things, they've had dessert and then had coffee since neither of them were ready to leave yet. It's dark by the time they finally head back to the bus stop; Dream presses up against Hob's side beneath the umbrella and Hob thrills at the warmth, the closeness, the graceful slide of Dream's hand into his and the way he doesn't let go until the bus shows up.

~ It's raining again the first time Hob kisses Dream, pulling him close beneath the umbrella outside the theater, one finger tipped beneath Dream's chin; the kiss is tentative, but Dream's mouth is warm and the way he lists gently forward has Hob coming back again, soft and sweet and smiling helplessly.

~ Three straight days of rain are clearing on the afternoon that Dream takes Hob to the bookstore and leads him to the romance section, points him to a shelf in the 'M's where there are a dozen or so titles by Morpheus, mononymous. Hob doesn't make the connection for a second, and then he does.

"Is this you?" he asks, reaching for one of the hardbacks, and sure enough there's Dream's photo inside the dust jacket, solemn and styled and somehow less authentic than the Dream standing nervously next to him.

"Yes," Dream confirms, and soft warmth floods Hob's chest. Dream has been very reserved about his writing—"It is one thing to publish for strangers, but I find it…much more difficult to share, when it is someone whose opinon matters to me personally," he'd said once, and being trusted, opened up to like this—Hob is not oblivious to the privilege of it.

"You've certainly written a lot," he says, warmth and fondness curling in his chest. "And you're okay with me reading any of these?"

"Yes; however—" he reaches into the messenger bag slung over his hip, withdraws a large clear envelope with what looks like a manuscript inside. "If you wish to read my writing, I would have you begin with this." He hands it to Hob.

Hades and Persephone: The Morpheus Remix the paper proclaims through the plastic, and Hob looks up at Dream, delighted. "Is this—?"

"It needs a proper title." Dream shrugs, hunches into his coat a little bit. "I would like—perhaps you might help me come up with one, as it was you who inspired me to revisit and update it."

Hob cannot for the life of him stop the broad smile that overtakes his face, is not even trying. "I would be honored."

~ It is raining buckets the night that Dream comes home with Hob, and even the umbrella is not enough to prevent their getting a bit wet. But that's alright, Hob thinks, with Dream's eager mouth warm and hungry on his as they move in the direction of his bedroom, it's not like their clothes were staying on anyway.

He lays Dream gently in his bed, covers him with his own body, makes love to him with slow and ardent urgency while the rain lashes against his window. Later, after, when the winds have calmed and thunder rumbles soothingly in the distance, he holds Dream curled against him, asleep, and he thinks. He thinks about umbrellas, and shielding, and guardedness, and how Dream has slowly gifted so many of his vulnerabilities to Hob; he thinks about the duality of potential in that realization, the power it gives him to either harm or protect, and vows to himself that he will always be Dream's metaphorical umbrella when it's within his capabilities.

~ It's sprinkling just a little when Hob realizes that he's going to marry Dream.

It's early Autumn and they're at the park; Dream is under his own umbrella (look, sometimes sharing just isn't practical, as much as Hob still loves faithfully carrying on their schtick), scattering peas and grapes for the ducks and Hob is hanging back, watching him with an aching fondness in his heart.

Dream is beautiful, and thoughtful, and engaging. He is guarded and private, but so warm and emotional and giving once he has let you in. He is smart, and witty, with the driest sense of humor and the most endearingly terrible laugh and Hob has fallen desperately in love with him along the way.

He watches as a particularly bold duck comes close and snaps up the pea that had fallen directly at the toe of Dream's boot; watches the soft delight that steals over Dream's face, and he knows.

~ It is the following Spring before he asks. They are at the bus stop where they first met and it's a bright sunny day; Hob's got the umbrella up and they're shoulder-to-shoulder beneath it. Dream is animated, excited, talking about his editor's latest feedback on his Persephone remix (The Seeds of Fate, they had decided to call it), and Hob is listening, very much interested but so so nervous. The little velvet box on his pocket is weighty, not physically of course but he can't stop touching it, hoping Dream will say yes, believing Dream will say yes.

At last, Dream turns to him, a little wrinkle of concern between his brows. "You feel…distracted; is everything alright?"

Hob smiles at him, entirely and wholeheartedly in love. He hooks the hand holding the umbrella with Dream's so their fingers are tangled together around it; he leans his forehead against Dream's, closes his eyes. "I have a question, I'd like to ask you. An important one." It's a deliberate echo of how Dream had asked him out more than a year ago; Hob can picture the way Dream smiles to recognize it, can feel one eyebrow lifting against his own.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the little box from his pocket and clicks the lid open. "Will you marry me?"

It's a quiet request, pitched low so the other couple people at the bus stop don't overhear, so that if Dream does wish to say no, he won't be under the public pressure of strangers to say yes for appearances' sake. Not that Hob expects him to say no.

He hopes he doesn't say no.

Dream pulls back and Hob opens his eyes, meeting the surprise and delight and disbelief in Dream's. Dream looks down at the ring in the open box in Hob's hand, touches a fingertip to the velvet-covered lid delicately, looks back up at Hob with joy blossoming in his face.

"Do you mean it? Truly?"

Hob swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, squeezes gently where his hand is tangled with Dream's around the handle of the umbrella. "More than anything," he murmurs, entranced by the gathering shine of happy tears in Dream's eyes. "Marry me. Please."

Dream makes a joyful little noise, wrenches his hand free and throws both arms around Hob's neck, kissing him soundly. Hob manages to snap the ring box closed and swing the umbrella low, wraps both arms around Dream's waist and kisses him back.

"Yes," Dream breathes wetly when they part a moment later. "Yes, of course yes, a thousand times, yes."

~ They marry in the park in August, the clouds high and the breeze warm. Hob puts up the umbrella when they reach the crux of the ceremony; he holds its history over them while they say their vows, while they slip rings on one another's fingers, and then they seal their marriage with a tender heartfelt kiss beneath its promise of care and protection.

= Started: 2/3/24 Drafted: 2/24/24 Posted: 2/25/24

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 3: umbrella seashore mist Day 4: camera lush beau Day 5: rescue inertia lullaby Day 6: tie embarrassment* dessert Day 7: potatoes blue glass Day 8: shower blessed layer Day 9: urgency kneel rural Day 10: flush angel owl Day 11: reflection water apology Day 12: graceful volcano blanket Day 18: suave cologne gradual* Day 19: teacakes flood feature Day 20: smooth glitters queen Day 23: rhythm chalk humor Day 24: spring fuzzy silky

*The word did not get used but the concept is very much in there

✨✨✨ Sequel: Love Rain Down On Me ✨✨✨

[bagopucks]

J. Drysdale - Lady May

✄————————————

Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warning(s): Nonnneee, just sweetness <3

This was that Jamie fic I’d been saving for a rainy day. Just something mediocre and small to get everybody through the drought of content. You lot are always on my mind.

Much love

-Ella

—————————————

I'm a stone's throw from the mill

And I'm a good walk to the river

When my workin' day is over

We'll go swim our cares away

He beams down at his phone, the contact name of his lovely girlfriend popping up. Jamie has to pick up. There’s not a single scenario he can think of, where he wouldn’t pick up.

You’re rambling. Excited. Jamie’s coming home, and you just can’t wait.

He’s promised to get you out of the house when he returns. He doesn’t want your reuniting to be spent with Trevor. So he promised he would take you out. He mentioned the beach once or twice, it’s the only thing you can think of now.

Put your toes down in the water

And a smile across your face

And tell me that you love me

He smiles as he watches you run down the sand. The sun has begun setting over Anaheim. Jamie is happy. You are happy. He knows by the look in your eyes when your feet hit water and you’re turning to look at him. You smile too. You always smile when you’re with him.

Nothing makes him happier.

Except the whispers of, ‘I love you’ as you lay on a towel in the sand, staring up at the stars and imagining your futures together.

And as you turn back around, he is left to his nerves. The ultimate excitement of what is to come. He couldn’t imagine his future without you. The mere thought pains him. So he imagines the past you’ve both shared instead.

Lovely, Lady May

Jamie would do anything for you.

Now I ain't the sharpest chisel

That your hands have ever held

But, darlin', I could love you well

Til' the roll is called on high

Jamie smiles when you ease him through things. When Trevor makes fun of him for not knowing something, or when he feels horrible for missing out on or forgetting something you want to do. He always apologizes. You always assure him that you could never truly resent him.

He likes to remind you though, that he does love you. And you know he does. His love speaks volumes when nobody is watching. You prefer his love that way. He does too.

I've seen my share of trouble

And I've held my weight in shame

Jamie grins through the pain. Nothing hurts worse than hearing his performance on the ice being criticized from all sides. He hates especially, to be alone when it’s happening.

But you’re there. Whether it’s in person or on the phone. You remind him of your pride. You remind him that the game is changing, and sometimes the old dinosaurs simply do not know what they’re talking about. You remind him, that no matter his faults, he is a good man.

But I'm baptized in your name

Lovely, Lady May

Jamie would cross oceans for you.

Lord, the wind can leave you shiverin'

As it waltzes o'er the leaves

It's been rushin' through my timber

Jamie could grin through the loneliness. He hated being alone. He hated not having someone to go home to, but he put on a good front when he had to.

He was the new kid on the Ducks. Nobody wanted to hear about his hardships. Even if the move away from home was difficult. Even if he missed his mother. Even if he missed his home.

Til' your love brought on the spring

He smiled wider when he met you. Bright and beaming. Excited and youthful. You were his saving grace. You were the end to his loneliness. You were his peace, and his comfort.

Now the mountains all are blushin'

And they don't know what to say

'Cept a good long line of praises

Nothing makes him smirk more pridefully, than watching you accomplish your dreams. He’s smug knowing he’s with a woman who can conquer the kingdoms of her professions. Jamie can think of nothing but loving words for you when he sees the obstacles you’ve climbed. Sees you holding your diploma. Sees you getting your dream job. If anybody ever asked him to write a song about you, it would be as full of life and wonder as you are.

For my lovely, Lady May

Jamie would move mountains at your beckon call.

Now, I ain't the toughest hickory

That your ax has ever felt

Jamie smiles when he cries. Because he knows you’re there to hold him. It’s not always a physical smile, but an internal one. He can be the ugliest crier in the universe and it wouldn’t change a thing. You’ll hold him until he’s safe from the world around him.

But I'm a hickory just as well

I'm a hickory all the same

He’s beaming when he gets to do the same. Jamie loves paying it forward. Especially with you. You patch his cut finger, he’s ready with a first aid kit when you get something in your eye. He’s strong despite his gentle exterior, and he will always support you when he knows you simply can’t hold yourself.

I came crashin' through the forest

As you cut my roots away

Jamie smiled when he knew you had sunken his battle ships. When he no longer had the strength to fight his feelings. He smiled again when he realized that all along, you had put forward endless amounts of effort to get him to fall for you.

And I fell a good long ways

And Jamie smiles now.. watching you hold the child you brought into this world. He never thought he could have seen more wonder in your eyes than he sees now. He finds it astounding that the world never broke you. He finds it even more mesmerizing, that it was your resilience that pushed back against the universe for years before him. He falls deeper and deeper in love with you, each time he hears your gentle voice coo to your child.

He cant imagine a world without you. Now he can’t imagine a world without you, and his beautiful baby girl.

For my lovely, Lady May

And Jamie beams all the same when he puts one knee in the sand, awaiting the inevitable moment you’ll turn from the ocean, to peer upon the ring he held so delicately. Like he wishes to hold you.

For far longer than eternity.

[bombingqueen]

Wincest Recs Part 2

Gencest/Weirdcest

patchwork scars (1000 words) by Anonymous

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supernatural

Additional Tags: weirdcest, Biting, Love Bites, Non-Sexual Kink, Mild Painplay, discussion of incest, Possessive Dean Winchester, Kinky Gen, Light Sadism, Light Masochism

Summary:

This thing—kink, sadomasochism, whatever it is between them—goes both ways.

This is the kinkiest shit I have ever read and they didn't even have fuck.

unlike lovers (4300 words) by Anonymous

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

They’re not like that, and honestly it’s part of the problem, because how can you say ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you and only you, like a lover would’, without all the connotations of a long-term relationship? It’s unconventional.

Then again, nothing in their lives is conventional. 

Funny story. I spent weeks searching for this fic because I thought I had dreamt it up but nope I finally found it. It's cute.

Deprivation (3339 words) by fogsrollingin

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Takes place around S14E5 "Nightmare Logic."

Sam's stressed. He's forgetting to eat and people keep waking him up the minute he salvages time for some shut-eye.

Dean's there for him.

When You're Not Here (37459 words) by raziella

Chapters: 5/5

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary:

The third time Sam Winchester comes to school with bruises, Mrs. Davidson decides it's time to intervene - before it's too late.

This is pretty much true gen despite how the fic is tagged. It involves social services and it has some outsider point of view.

What I've Done (1185 words) by Amoreanonyname

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He wasn’t going to say anything more about it. He could tell, Dean was happy to see him, but wasn’t going to humor this topic. Dean, young Dean would jump to obey John, to answer John’s questions, but this was an older Dean who was more loyal to someone else now. More loyal to his brother. John wasn’t the priority here, and he realized with another guilty jump in his stomach that he never should have been.

I enjoyed that John remained composed and did not choose violence like other fics I have read where he discovers the extent boys relationship.

Nothing Safe Is Worth The Drive (382 words) by angelszn

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Dean came home from Hell to a demon-blood-addicted little brother. He takes it in stride.

If you like some dark!weirdcest then this is for you. Dean is very accommodating.

save it for a rainy day (917 words) by according2thelore

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Dean has a wad of money hidden in his bag. It’s folded into a skin mag that he bought in Duluth, which itself is folded into a tube of socks. He calls it his Sammy Stash. Dad and Sam don’t know about it. It’s a stack of crumpled bills he’s earned through hustling at pool and hoarded from short-term jobs he’s worked, pressed flat as they can go to look as inconspicuous as possible. It’s for one very specific purpose, in the same way Dean’s entire life has had one very specific purpose.

Well, this was a gut punch of epic proportions.

Cracked (282 words) by Linden

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It was October, the season of frost and the early dark and the slow soft dying of the year, and John’s world was ending.

These Stanford Era fics are trying to kill me. Seriously.

Through the devil softly (4888 words) by siamesedreams

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It's like walking with a permanent veil in front of his eyes, everything's blurry. He can't tell if the world around him is real, or not, if he's in Dean's arms or if he was in the Cage all along.

An infernal cursed amulet? Chief would know what this is. I'm going to have him touch it. (2441 words) by fogsrollingin

Chapters: 2/3

Summary:

"What could go wrong?"

This is incomplete but I think it does the job. It's told from an outsider's point of view. This fic and the one above deal with Sam's hallucinations.

Sins of the Father (1434 words) by Amoreanonyname

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It’s true what they say about parenthood – it causes you to look at your own parents, and their choices, a bit differently. Though for Sam, perhaps that was for different reasons.

Sam, as a parent, reflects on his three parents, living day-to-day, and trying to parent when your soulmate has died.

Flowers facing the sun (2087 words) by StripySock

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Dean is sick as hell, and Robo!Sam is the closest thing he has to comfort.

swallow my breath and take what is mine (4636 words) by according2thelore

Chapters:1/1

Summary:

Dean Winchester wakes up and it’s dark. John Winchester stands sentinel in a cemetery. Sam Winchester’s hands are bleeding. A story in three parts.

Or: John Winchester has a new training exercise for his older son.

This was fucked up. I liked it and I lowkey can see this happen if John lost his mind somewhere on his journey to Azazel.

It Goes Like This (36085 words) by sprinkles888

Chapters: 8/8

Summary:

It goes like this: They both say yes. And somehow, the world doesn't end. With little else to do, Sam and Dean take hold of an opportunity that comes their way—taking charge of a diner in a small Iowa town. But, even as the hubbub of the diner fills their day, the nights of fighting back the archangels in their heads will drive the two of them closer than ever in an effort to keep the apocalypse continually on pause.

Meanwhile, the residents of Lageme attempt to understand the two new, weird guys who took over Darla's.

This is an odd fic but it's worth a read. The struggle to remain in control was done really well. A good portion of the fic is from the perspective of an outsider.

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #15: Hymn to the moon

You want Liszt x Chopin Thirst? Here we go! So, according to your poll result, we're going back to where we all originally came from. And that feels soooo good. :)

This song was originally based on the famous-infamous story about Mary Pleyel, who got hooked up  by Franz in Chopin's flat, while Chip-Chip was travelling. And how fitting that @dinapiss posted this great fanart a few days ago...really at the same time I was listening to a German podcast, ‘Klassik für Klugscheisser’, in which the two presenters asked to tell them exactly what traces of this night of love Chopin had found in his flat (I mean... come on,...it certainly wasn't a garter, you little unspoilt snowflakes.)

In our song, Franz thinks of Chopin while Pleyel (or an unknown girl, you decide) sleeps besides him, after a long night of… well...  I also liked the idea of the sun and the moon so much that I just took it a step further, @chopinski-official

But this time we didn't want to write another sexy-hexy-funny-funny-piece, we tried to convey a real desperate desire. Besides, I've definitely been listening to too much ‘Empires’ by Ari Mason in the last few weeks (Damn, so good, I really wish it was ours).

So, let's lie down next to @franzliszt-official again and see what happens. Morning already has begun. ;)

Comfy squad! Honestly, guys, it's been a rocky road to get here. Not that I haven't enjoyed the last few days (my colleagues only partially, who cares.) And now a lot of cudos to you!

We love all your fanart, your fanfiction, your RPG chats...everything, it's the real shit. That's why we're here on tumblr. And while the other social media world out there - just like the real world - sinks into agitation and disgust, the world here is like warm bunny slippers on a grey rainy day with a little rainbow breaking through. I've had my main profile here for over 10 years and it has really saved me through some madness (but also plunged me into another) This is written to you with love by a group of reallife Tina Belchers,  and (former?) cosplayers. <3

Her wet sweat Still sticks to my chest The scratches on my arms The marks of her lust She holds An empty glass Clutched, tight in her hand And while she sleeps The moonlight paints Long shadows on the wall And I ask myself Can you sleep Wherever you are While my longing Eats my soul? When will we meet again? I, the sun You, the moon Which is so calm and thoughtful Enthroned above all Enthroned above all She stood in your shirt Smiling in the doorway She has A very strange... Intuition for desire Her perfume hangs so piercing In the air of the room But I  search inside the pillows Desperately for your scent She has long since forgiven me That I aspirated your name I can't remember hers Just wanted to escape the loneliness Our lips met Like two drowning persons There's fire in her cheeks But her thighs are so pale When shall we meet again? I,the sun You, the moon Which is so calm and thoughtful Enthroned above all Enthroned above all Your fingers roam aimlessly Over my belly The flavour of her mouth Heavy with wine and smoke My breath in her hair I caressed her back God, please damn me And her own pleasures delight The days go by so Quickly The nights, they are empty And in the far distance Don’t  you know What I am missing? When will we meet again? I, the sun You, the moon Which is so calm and thoughtful Enthroned above all Enthroned above all She said can be for me Whatever I want And I, I secretly wish She'd finally be quiet And she asks After she just woke up Did you miss me And I nod Even though it's the biggest lie Of all...

[scary-grace]

Hi author, this is Nemo!

Just wanted to say that I appreciate all of what you've written for shigaraki and that all of your works are chefs kiss. Figured it was due time for a remainder of author appreciation. Your works are so detailed and I love the way you accurately portray Shigaraki its actually so reeling!! He always feels so... canon like. And the way reader acts and how personality changes between different stories/plots is my fav. Also your plots are so creative and honestly one-of-a-kind! I love how their not boring at all! I'm constantly left thinking "wow this writer is one of my consistent favorites and I really can't think of a fanfic I don't like"

My favs of the month always at least include one of yours and I always appreciate the time and effort you put into writings! Thank you author! Know that your works and efforts are noticeable!

-anon who wanted to show their fav authors appreciation

Hi! First of all, I'm sorry for having hung onto this ask for so long. I save them for a rainy day, but I always forget that doing so results it people thinking I'm ignoring their asks. The length of time it takes me to answer an ask does not correspond to how I feel about the ask at all!

Secondly, I'm so glad you enjoy the fics! I'm so glad that Shigaraki's characterization works in the various AUs, and I'm so thankful that you've been willing to keep reading. I also wanted to let you know that I've got the prompt that you sent me back in October and I'd love to do it justice! If you have any specifics/suggestions/wish lists for the prompt, let me know <3

I hope you're having a good day <3

[hanakou-often]

12. Swap au?

AU where Kou becomes the seventh mystery and Amane becomes his assistant (In retrospect his assistant probably should’ve been Mitsuba but I was on a Hanakou ROLL)!! I enjoy this concept a lot but I'll admit its not the most thought out idea so don't expect much lmao

Kou is now Number 7 of the roof top: Nariko-San! Hanako said not many people know how to summon him but I think it’s pretty lame excuse? I mean if getting a wish granted was as easy as knocking on a bathroom door I feel like way more people would do it yk!! The more powerful the apparition, the harder it should be to summon. So to up the ante, Nariko’s rumor is ‘if you go out on the roof top on a rainy day and lean over the railing while chanting ‘Nariko-San, Nariko-San, save me' She just might make your wish come true' and of course the "price to pay" here is the risk of losing your life yk

Amane is crazy enough to be the first to summon him. His wish is something along the lines of him wanting to ‘live among the stars' or something equally as emo and blah blah when he finally summons him, Nariko appears in a streak of lightning and instantly pulls Amane back in. Amane expected a more grim figure with a matching God-like disposition but Nariko shows immediate concern, dispelling any previous expectations.

I'm not exactly sure how or why but eventually instead of a mermaid scale Amane swallows a bird feather? He turns into an owl and Nariko has to fight off a harpy, stating those are "angels" who use avian creatures as their 'eyes'. When the harpy is finally gone, Nariko eats the other feather and makes Amane promise not to randomly fly off and leave (because people care about him yadda yadda). Now anytime Amane gets flustered/agitated or sneezes, he turns into his owl form.

Teru is Nariko’s Tsukasa so to speak. His personality is sort similar mother Gothel from Tangled where he's more emotionally manipulative than violent/extreme like Tsukasa. Anyways Tiara grows up without her siblings. One of the only things I’ve written for this AU is Nariko grappling with that guilt so stay tuned for that <3

I’ll be so honest I was only here to max out on the shipping potential so I didn’t think about other characters' roles though too much lol. I've been aching to write the beginnings of this au so I can cash in on the weird Teru and Nariko dynamic later but as you can tell my ideas are a little scatterbrained with some bits of info missing here and there.

[colgatebluemintygel]

hey toothpaste! got any good fic recs for me to read?

hello little moth friend !! YES i do <3 admittedly i have spent most of my free time recently in the trenches of captive prince fic lolza........... but i have many r/s fics (ft. 1 rogue james/regulus fic) that i've read and loved over the past few months <3 so without further ado ::::

long live living (if living can be this) by excaliburned

SCREAM i had to start this list with my very favourite comfort fic <333 the oblivious/jealous sirius blueprint! fic of All time! i love love loooove this one, truly i adore it <33

the weather inside by earlybloomingparentheses

this fic.... fakkk i re-read it recently and was just as affected by it as i was the first time i read it. i feel like i can't say too much here without hashtag exposing myself but i truly adore it. for me personally, it scratches n soothes the rawest of wounds <3

the making of the map by fox_pitch

this is one of my favourite canon verse fics, and although it was written semi-recently it still very much has that old-school mwpp feel <33 it's the perfect balance of angst and humour ft. top tier pining ;;; i truly lose my mind every time i read this 🤭

storm and stress by @mblematic

an all timer ‼️‼️‼️ sirius durmstrang AU ‼️‼️‼️ i love this fic so much, they're so sweet, so much crush crush crushingggg (i love it when they do that), this remus in particular is so....... 🤭🤭... i want to pat his head. this is another of my all-time favourite comfort fics <333 truly LOVELY

this hell (is better with you) by @maybebabyplease

i don't often read jegulus, but if it's em writing i'd read it every day PLEEK i love this fic..... it's saurr funny, james's internal voice is so well done, and REGULUS.......... :'-)))))) ..... altho i am listed as a beta, do not be fooled... i did very little other than gush n giggle n go insane in the comments.... i will forever be obsessed with this iteration of them. i cannot say enough good things about em's writing, and this fic !! searing capitalist critique ft. a love story about an angel and a demon, w equal parts heart and humour ...... HELLOUGH .... teslas being the official Car of hell never ceases 2 make me giggle 🤭

you wouldn't like me by @crushofdoves

GAHHHHHH i finally caught up with ywlm recently (i'd been saving it for a rainy day... the days are very rainy atm) and it's just <333 so Gender and lovely and full of heart and makes me feel so nostalgic in the most delightful way <3 i have so much to say about this one and haven't quite found the words yet, but all i'll say for now is that i will probably forever associate caring is creepy with this fic and that song is one of my favourite songs of all time so. that's when you know xxx (also remus literally sucks the strap.... like.... hello🖐️....)

shorn and scarred and yours by @lynxindisguise

thee slytherin sirius fic of my dreams i am not kidding i truly adore this fic so so much !!! it made me go absolutely insane and pulled me headfirst out of a truly awful reading slump and i have not looked back since 💋💋 this sirius (and remus!) are so special to me <333 every now n again, as i'm going about my day, i randomly remember sirius starting a cult and have a little giggle to myself🤭

there are so many others that i know i'm forgetting ... so stay tuned for pt. 2 :o))))

[llondonfog]

life lesson from lettie llondonfog- get refundable tickets/hotel reservations for a high-cost flight planned months in advance, january me saved my trip!

it has been a MARATHON of a day rearranging flights/hotels/booked events to shift my trip that was supposed to start today out to start on sunday. my mother woke up this morning with the worst case of strep throat ever after having no symptoms the previous night. she was able to get in to our doctor today and get antibiotics, thank goodness, and she'll be back to normal by the weekend. and thank god i took off two weeks from work as a reward to myself which allowed me the flexibility to shift everything a few days to the right. i'm a little bummed we lost our flight upgrades and that the weather looks like it'll be rainy the entire time that we're there, but we're still going and that's the most important thing!!!

i feel like i can finally breathe now that i've replanned out our schedules haha sorry i'm a freak that finds peace in nicely laid out excel docs and travel journals :') but it about broke my heart to hear my mom's panicked sobbing on the phone at 2am this morning thinking that she ruined our trip, i'm so glad that i was able to salvage it for the both of us<3

[winter-leftovers]

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter twenty one: Coming Back (21/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Y/n recovers her memory. The search for the staff of avalon begins

Word count: 1661

Warnings: No

(Season 3 Episodes 6, 7)

Song?: Mother Stands For Comfort by Kate Bush

Previous - Next

Masterlist

Y/n holded the doorknob to the backdoor of her house until she felt her hot hand would melt the metal under it. After spending a couple days away in a remote part of the woods her memory came back.

Amongst the trees and the darkness, the old spell lifted, allowing all the old memories wash over her like water breaking through a dam. She could finally recall who she really was and why she was there in Arcadia, in the Lake’s home or at least why she thought her father would want her there: to help the first human trollhunter to fulfill his destiny.

All the pieces of her life came back and laid to rest in their designated place, all except one: the night she strayed from her old life to found herself in Arcadia as a child in Barbara’s arms. That rainy night is still foggy in her mind.

Finally, Y/n opened the door to an empty kitchen but to a full living room. Claire’s parents and Toby’s grandmother were sitting on the couch talking with Barbara.

She sighed, relieved, she hadn't figured out what she was going to tell her family about what she uncovered in the last couple of months and more people around could buy her a little more time.

“Hi,” she smiled, quickly walking to the stairs “I don’t want to get too close, I've been camping” Y/n chuckled.

Barbara walked up to her daughter before she could run upstairs.

“You don’t have to lie anymore. I remembered everything. I even put Claire’s and Toby’s parents up to speed” Barbara laughed.

“I’m not lying! You can smell my hair” Y/n smiled.

Barbara looked at her daughter. She could sense something about her was different but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Barbara always could read her daughter like the palm of her hand

“Something’s off” she frowned and grabbed her hand.

Y/n looked at her mother’s eyes, the only mother she ever had and gave her a genuine smile “I promise I’ll explain. Just not right now” she looked back at their guests.

Barbara nodded and squeezed her daughter’s hand

“You know that I’m always here, right, sweetie?”

Y/n nodded and let go of her mother’s hand to run upstairs to take a shower.

“I wasn’t finished. That’s deranged!” Blinky’s screams echoed through the hallway.

Y/n slowly opened Jim’s door and poked her head through it. The whole gang was there except for Aaarrrgghh with the new addition, Dictatious.

“You’re saying Jim should destroy his amulet ‘cause you think you saw some old man put a map inside of it?” Toby sounded like he was going to lose his mind.

“It was Merlin” insistes Claire “The key to finding his tomb, to finding his staff, is inside his amulet”

‘Yeah, that’s him’ though Y/n.

“The girl-child may be on to something. The amulet and the staff are connected” said Dictatious.

“Both fueled by the magic of Merlin” said Blinky.

“But if Jim breaks his amulet, he can’t armor up! And if he can’t armor up ‘Goodbye, Eclipse Blade!’ How’s he supposed to kill Gunmar?” Screamed Toby in desperation.

“If we don’t get the staff first, none of that will matter anyway” said Claire

“Maybe I don’t have to destroy the amulet. You said Gunmar has Aaarrrgghh captive?” Jim looked at Dictatious.

Y/n frowned.

“And Aaarrrgghh could be used as an emotional anchor” said Blinky.

“We’d portal jump right to him” said Claire.

“The plan is set. We save Aaarrrgghh and stop Gunmar by any means necessary before he acquires the staff”

“What’s going on?” Y/n entered the room.

“Y/n?” The kids screamed in unison.

“Who is that…?” Asked Dictatious

“Shh” Blinky hit his brother on the head “Y/n, where have you been?”

“Where’ve you been?” Jim hugged his sister tight.

“Yeah, I’ve been texting, I needed…ughh” Toby hugged her and took a step back “You smell awful”

“I miss you too but…Toby is right” Claire grabbed her free hand.

“I was in the woods. Doing some…spiritual work. It's a long story and from what I heard we don’t have time” Y/n scratched Jim's hair that was still hugging her.

“We really do not have any time” said Blinky.

“Do we have time to explain the new accent?” Toby lifted a brow.

“What?”

“You’re madonna-ing”

“I’m not. Shut up” Y/n frowned. Her memories had brought her accent back?

—

After taking a quick shower, Y/n came downstairs as the trollhunter team were saying their goodbyes.

“I’m coming with” Y/n announced “I’m not letting Blinky unsupervised”

Jim and Toby laughed.

Y/n hugged Barbara tight. Y/n whispered in her mother’s ear

“You’re the best mother I could ever have”

She quickly stood behind Claire before the tears started rolling.

“Part of the spiritual trip?” Jim smiled.

“Something like that” Y/n smiled back.

The five of them jumped through the portal to a dark ruin quickly finding Aaarrrgghh in a stasis trap.

“The work of Angor Rot” observed Blinky.

“Uhm, those are Dwarkstones. If we deactivate the stasis, this place is gonna blow” said Claire.

“Aaarrrgghh, my friend, they’ve used you as bait to kill us” screamed Blinky.

Aaarrrgghh groaned.

“We gotta get him out of there!” Screamed Toby in desperation.

“No, Wingman. You leave” said Aaarrrgghh

“No, we’re not giving up”

“Guys, I’ve got an idea!” said Jim.

Everyone turned to Jim.

“Okay. Toby drops the hammer, we drop into the room below” he points to the ground.

“The hammer’s power and weight might be enough to override the stasis trap or it’ll fail, Toby will disintegrate into nothingness, and we’ll die with the explosion” Blinky explained.

“Cool beans” said Toby.

“Charming” Y/n pated the trolls back.

“Even if it works, what if we drop into something worse?” Asked Claire, fear written all over her face.

“Than this? I’ll take my chances. Tobes, are you ready?” Jim crouched down.

“Ready to possibly kill us all and die in failure? Yeah” he took a deep breath before start running “For Aaarrrgghh”

Jim pushed Toby into the air, giving the hammer enough strength to break the floor and destroying the trap, making the team fall into a dark tunnel of nothingness.

Y/n felt her knees hit the hard floor, she looked up and saw Aaarrrgghh covering them from the rest of the debri falling from the trap.

“Is everyone alright?” Y/n asked once the rain of stones stopped falling.

Jim draw daylight to illuminate the dark room.

“Wingman” Toby threw himself to Aaarrrgghh.

“Wingman” Aaarrrgghh quickly reciprocated the hug.

The group laughed and followed the two, for a moment forgetting where they were.

“What is this place?” Blinky asked

“Smells old” Aaarrrgghh sniffed the humid air.

“Ah!” Toby tried to take a step forward, almost falling into the abyss.

“Remarkable” Blinky looked down “An ancient gyre”

The team went down to investigate the old artifact.

“Why would there be a gyre here?” Jim got into the gyre.

“It doesn’t even have controls” observed Blinky.

Y/n observed the cave with the help of little light that was able to shine through the broken ceiling. She walked around the gyre with a small smile on her face. Of course. She finally recognised the place. It was Douxie’s and her longest task.

“If I break the amulet it will lead us to Merlin’s tomb” Jim said.

Y/n stopped walking through the dark and dusty room, she turned her head back to the sound of her brother’s voice. She ran to the stairs and up to the gyre and saw Jim hit the amulet with Toby’s hammer.

For an instant, a blue light illuminated the room then disappeared as quickly as it came revealing the destroyed pieces of Merlin’s amulet.

Jim kneeled in front of the stone where the pieces rested and picked them up one by one

“No turning back now” he said.

“No turning back” Y/n whispered to herself, as she played with her bracelet.

She felt her stomach turn. She knew from the moment that she crossed that portal that there was no turning back but now, that notion is final. Her old and new life were going to crash and she wasn’t sure how that was going to go. She was nervous. She hasn’t seen her father in nine hundred years and she hasn’t told her friends about her identity yet.

Jim put the blue stone where the controls of the gyre should be and a warm blue light surrounded them, the gyre starting its travel.

Y/n started to breathe a little better as she felt Douxie’s old magic all around.

“If this is fate, I really hope we’re not destined to die” screamed Toby, grabbing Y/n’s hand as the machine started to gain speed.

—

“Whoa, a hidden entrance” Jim smiled as they crossed the waterfall.

“Yeah, but to where?” Claire walked close behind the trollhunter.

Y/n took a couple steps forward when she saw Toby starting to struggle with his war hammer. She didn’t want to be behind him when the ‘no-magic’ spell got to him.

“Why no war hammer magic?” Toby complained as the artifact fell to the floor.

“No magic here” Blinky translated the sign on top of the door “It appears this hallowed tomb is warded against sorcery”

“My shadow staff doesn’t work either” Claire tried to use her staff in vain.

“Hey, what’s that?” Y/n pointed behind the girl at the giant claw marks that shouldn't be there.

“These claw marks look fresh” observed Claire.

“Hmm. Yes, yes.” Blinky got closer “As if…a struggle”

“Draal” Aaarrrgghh said.

Y/n turned back and saw the troll holding a chain “There's no magic here. He’s free”

“Then we’re not just here for the staff. We can save Draal” Jim smiled at the idea of recovering their friend.

A/n: we’re getting closer to the part that inspired the series!!! Also!!! I fucking!!! Hate!!!! Summer!!!

Remember that reviews, love letters and death threats are always appreciated 💖

[burntprops]

What I've been working on - part 1

• > Part 2

I started making a Helldivers cosplay last month, kept it as a secret project cause I was unsure if I'd be able to finish it

I saved up for an elegoo 3D printer earlier this year and got really into Helldivers 2, so I thought why not make a new cosplay for Anime North 2024?

Initially wanted to try my hands at 3D modeling the whole thing, but there just wasn't enough time so I bought the print files from Galactic Armoury

This is my first time using a 3D printer, took me almost a month and multiple burnouts just to troubleshoot it and get it working properly for printing.

Even when it was working fine, I still got some messed up prints that I had to weld back together with a sodering iron.

Weather was cold and rainy in April so after I got the parts printed I had to wait for clear weather to sand and prime them.

I got impatient and thought it was sunny one day, went out to paint just to get rushed back inside because it started HAILING!

I honestly haven't considered just how much sanding printed parts needed until I started working on this, it's definitely a lot of work still even after the parts are printed.

This was the result after 3 weeks, armour painted, still need details and padding!