#so of course once i realised it was a real bad migraine it was at the point where the medicine was Going to take a while

[jorvikzelda]

it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts

[earnestly-endlessly]

kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour {PART TWO}

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

taglist: @domainoflostsouls​  forgetthisbull  handon-h-art  yourspecialcrush  giulsgotmusic

As morning crept in through the blinds, you opened your eyes. It had been a horrendous night. You’d slept for a couple of hours, if that, all in and every time you woke up, you felt like crying. You opened your eyes to see wonderous colour, everything was so colourful and it shocked you but my god, you wished that your vision was still black and white. If your vision had been black and white everything would’ve been fine and you would be happy. You would’ve given up anything to have black and white vision back. Black and white vision wasn’t so bad, I mean, it always felt like you were trapped inside a 50s sitcom but that was pretty cool! Though now with colour you could easily see what your clothes looked like...

Steve was still sound asleep beside you. His alarm would go off in an hour or so. Carefully, you got out of bed trying not to wake him as you went to wander through Steve’s apartment. You were grateful that Steve’s décor was darker and more muted colours; dark blues and browns (and you knew what colours they all were because during the night, you’d found some YouTube Kids videos telling you all the different types of colour. You liked red and you really liked yellow). You spend a while walking around the apartment and looking out the window, watching the sun come up. Your stomach flips and you feel sick as you see a photo of Steve and Bucky; the same photo that you’d seen so many times before except now it’s in colour and you can see Bucky’s dark eyes and Steve’s bright eyes. Taking a breath, trying to push the nausea away, you wish it had been Steve’s eyes that you saw. You wish Steve’s bright blue eyes had been the first ones you saw in colour.

Your mind refuses to stop picturing Bucky and that first moment of seeing colour crashing over you like a wave. The guilt hits you like a train as you stare at the photo. How could you love Steve Rogers and yet have Bucky Barnes be your soulmate? You needed help; you needed some form of guidance, someone to talk to that wasn’t Bucky Barnes. 

Steve finds you sitting on the couch, staring at the photo of the pair, fifteen minutes later. He pads over to you, realising that you’re in a daydream of sorts, “Sweetheart?” He says softly sitting on the couch beside you.

You tore your eyes from the picture and stared at him, once again the colour of his eyes surprising you. Quickly, you set the photo down and pull him onto the couch, “Steve, I have to tell you something.”

Steve brushes your hair out of your face, frowning in concern. He could tell something was eating away at you, he noticed it last night at the party. He’d hoped it had just been the migraine but now, seeing the fear in your eyes, he wondered if it was something else entirely. He asks if you’re okay, asks what’s wrong and you open your mouth and then shut it. You need to tell him. A relationship shouldn’t have secrets or lies and you had always been honest with Steve. Steve valued honesty and truth among all else, he valued loyalty and yet, here you were, keeping the biggest secret of your life from him.

He repeats the question, “What’s going on?”

You shake your head and plaster a smile on your face, “I was just thinking that I’d go see Nat today,” you told him, “She was telling me about her and Bruce yesterday but never got to hear much of the story before my migraine kicked in.” It wasn’t a lie, you were waiting to hear more of Nat and Bruce’s story but that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to go and see her. You wanted Nat’s opinion on everything; you wanted her to tell you what you were supposed to do.

Steve nodded his head slowly, “Are you okay, (y/n)? You’ve not seemed quite right since last night at the party.” No, I’m not right at all, Steve! My soulmate is your best friend! How do I tell you that? How am I meant to tell you that without destroying you?

“Yeah, everything’s fine, love,” you smile at him, “The migraine’s away but I barely slept.” He looks at you with that stare, the one where he’s trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth, “Honestly, Steve, I’m okay. I’m absolutely exhausted but I’ll have a cup of coffee and go see Nat and I’ll be fine. Must’ve been the champagne last night, I only had one glass but you know I’m not a big drinker and you know Stark buys the expensive stuff.”

Steve relents with a sigh, he’s unsure but you seem to be talking a little more, “Okay, just remember that I’m here for you if you need me...” He stands up, stretching and you smile as you look at him. He is one fine specimen. He notices you admiring his muscles, “You think these are impressive?” He chuckles, “You should’ve seen me before the serum.”

You laugh, a real genuine laugh, and for a few seconds, you forget about everything. Things were just so real and easy with Steve, “I would’ve loved to have met you back then you know.”

Steve scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re way out of my league right now never mind back then.”

“I’m serious,” you say as you follow him into the kitchen, “Steve, you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I would love you in every lifetime and every size or shape. Skinny, pre serum Steve would’ve been just as perfect. The serum changed the way you look but it never changed the way you act or the way you think. That’s all you and what do I always tell you?”

Steve smiles as he makes the coffee, “You love the way I think.” He looks up at you and you smile at him. Everything was always easy with Steve; it always had been, even on that very first day.

The rain poured down, splashing onto the sidewalk. You pulled your jacket tighter around you as you tried to back further into the wall. You’d been waiting outside a café for over thirty minutes waiting for your date to show up. So far, nothing. You’d text and left a voicemail asking if he was on his way but no answer. You huffed as you shook your head, “Bloody men.”

You go to turn and walk away, knowing that you’d been stood up and didn’t want to hang around for nothing, when you almost bump into something or rather someone, “Sorry, I was going to ask if you wanted my umbrella.” He asked with a smile, “But you started cursing out men and honestly, it’s a little intimidating.”

You looked up at him and smiled, well he wasn’t your soulmate but that was okay, you didn’t need colour to know that he was ridiculously good looking,  “Sorry, I, uh, I got stood up so I’ve been standing in the rain for nearly forty minutes. I even went to the effort of putting on a whole new outfit and curling my hair!”

The man sighs, “I’m sorry to hear that, how about I buy you a cup of coffee?” He holds his hands up when you look at him concerned, “I just wanna be nice, that’s all. If you hate me, you never have to see me again.”

You find yourself laughing and shrugging, “Oh, what the hell- sure... I’m (y/n).”

“Steve, Steve Rogers.”

It hits you then. Of course, “You’re Captain America!”

Steve nods, “I hope that’s not an issue?”

You shake your head, “Not at all but... why does someone like you want to go on a date with someone like me? I mean you look like that and I look like...” you look down at your soaked outfit, “a drowned rat.”

His laugh is lovely, you realise as it comes booming out of him, “Someone like me? I look like this now but before the war, I was a scrawny five foot four kid with too many health issues to count and someone like you? You mean someone beautiful with a gorgeous smile?” He opens the café door, “Shall we?”

A cup of coffee with Captain America, you muse in your head as you sit at the table in the small café waiting for him to bring you back your drinks, your mom would have a field day with this one. You shrug your jacket off and hang it over the back of the chair, thankful that your jacket had kept the rain from soaking you straight to the bone.

Steve appeared a minute later, two coffees and two muffins, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted something to eat so I got us muffins.”

“Thanks,” you smile, happily taking a bite out of it. Steve sits down and you suddenly feel rather awkward as he smiles at you. You’re not soulmates. Your vision is still black and white so... what was the point?

Steve seems to read your mind, “We’re not soulmates... It’s okay.” You breathe a sigh of relief and Steve can see you visibly relax.

“Yours is still black and white?”

He shakes his head, taking a sip of the coffee, “No, I... I met my soulmate a long time ago.”

“Oh?” you pause and he can see your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“It was during the war we met,” he goes onto explain, “Things couldn’t really go anywhere since I woke up in the twenty first century... She died a couple of years ago.”

Well, shit. “Oh god, Steve, I’m so sorry. That’s... That’s horrible.”

Steve smiles, appreciating your genuine sympathy, “It’s okay,” he shrugs, “besides, I like to think I can make my own destiny; that there’s more than one person in the world that could be a match for me.”

A smile spreads onto your face. He was like a breath of fresh air, the way he spoke about things with such hope... it was inspiring. No wonder he was Captain America; everything America should have been, “I like the way your mind works.” And it’s true. You’d never met anyone who was so hopeful. Everyone you met followed the rules and stuck by them but Steve, despite his past and despite his definite trauma, he remained hopeful for a better future.

He asks about you and your situation, “Still black and white,” you tell him, “I have to send pictures of my outfits to my sister who met her soulmate years ago just to see if the colours go well together.” He laughs, “I’m in no rush to find my soulmate, if I ever find them. I don’t believe too much in it either.”

The pair of you look across the table at one another and smile and it’s an unspoken agreement of ‘are we going to do this?’. Steve takes a sip of coffee, hiding a bashful smile from behind the mug, “You know, I’m real glad your date stood you up.”

His kiss on your temple as he slides your mug of coffee over to you breaks you out of your trance, “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m real glad my date stood me up,” you murmur with a smile.

A slow grin spreads on his face, “Yeah, me too...”

Once you’ve eaten breakfast, gotten dressed and ready for the day ahead, you text Nat and ask her if you can come over. She responds right away telling you to come by whenever. You get ready to leave and say bye to Steve, who’s using a laptop looking up something else that Sam told him about.

“I’ll be home soon,” you say, kissing his hair, “Text me if you’re wanting me to pick up anything while I’m out.”

“I love you,” Steve calls as you’re pulling on your sneakers.

A pang of guilt hits you and you take a deep breath, “I love you too, Steve.”

You leave.

The drive to Natasha’s apartment is a short one and it helps that you’re breaking most of the traffic laws to get there. You need to tell someone. Honestly, at this rate, you’ll be having stomach ulcers with the stress. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe this wasn’t such a big deal... Maybe you would tell Nat and she would roll her eyes and tell you that it would be fine, to tell Steve and don’t talk to Bucky again. You hoped that it could be that easy but really... would it be?

Natasha immediately knew something was wrong, “Have you slept?” She asked, noting the dark circles under your eyes and your stressed appearance.

“Couple of hours.”

“What’s going on?”

“Coffee and then we’ll talk.” Nat nods and goes to the kitchen so prepare the coffee. Her apartment is bare but stylish. It’s not very personable but she wasn’t very personable so it makes sense. Nat always told you that she was ready to up and leave if she needed to. You follow her into the kitchen to see her lifting down two blue mugs, “Actually, can I get that red mug that’s on the top shelf?”

Nat nods and reaches up. Then she realises what you just said, “No fucking way.” You sigh, sitting at the kitchen island as she stares at you, throwing question after question at you, “You can see colour? When? How? Who?!”

“Coffee first, please.”

Natasha Romanoff has never moved faster in her life as she makes that cup of coffee and has it sitting in front of you within thirty seconds. She demands to know everything, “When?!”

“Last night at Stark’s party.”

Natasha snaps her fingers, “I knew something wasn’t right! You left so early and didn’t even say goodbye, by the way. Tony said you had a migraine but I thought something was off.”

You nodded, “Yeah, the colour was overwhelming and it gave me a migraine. It’s still pretty overwhelming, to be honest.”

Natasha leaned forwards, elbows propped onto the kitchen counter, “Is it...”

You shake your head, looking at your hands, “No... It’s not Steve.”

She curses under her breath, “Damn... I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how difficult that is but... doesn’t mean everything’s doomed. Who is it?”

All of a sudden, you can’t say anything; all you can do is stare at the coffee. Natasha begins to list of names, “Stark? Thor? Galactica man? Fury? Parker-”

“Nat, he’s seventeen!”

She holds up her hands, “Wanda? Strange? Sam? Maria Hill? Oh my god, is it me?” You roll your eyes at her and then she says it, “Bucky?” Your bottom lip trembles and Natasha’s jaw drops, “Bucky?! Bucky Barnes?” A nod is all you can muster, “Holy shit! I knew the universe is fucked but I didn’t realise it’s this fucked!”

“You said it doesn’t mean everything’s doomed, tell me it’s not doomed, Nat.”

“What did Steve say?! Holy shit, I can’t believe that. No wonder you didn’t sleep.” She sees your eyes lower, “You have told him, haven’t you?”

“I tried,” you whisper, “I tried, Nat. I-I couldn’t.” She sighs heavily, “It’s bad, isn’t it? It’s real bad.”

She nods, “Yeah, it’s gonna be bad.” The two of you are silent as you sip at the coffee, trying to figure out what the next move is. It feels good to talk about it with someone; feels much better to share the load with someone who isn’t Bucky.

“I don’t know how to tell him,” you say eventually, voice cracking with emotion, “I mean, how do you tell your boyfriend that his best friend is your soulmate?” Nat doesn’t have the answers and you know she doesn’t. She can’t tell you what to do. Bucky couldn’t tell you what to do either. You have to figure it out by yourself.

“Tell me everything.”

So you tell her everything. You tell her about seeing him, about going to get air, about Bucky finding you and having a secret conversation with him, about the migraine and about going home with Steve, “The worst part of it is... Bucky’s eyes were the first pair I saw in colour. How many times have I said to you even if Steve wasn’t my soulmate, how many times have I said I wanted his eyes to be the first ones I look into with colour vision? I feel like I’ve betrayed him.”

Nat’s hand reached out, clasping yours from across the table, “This isn’t your fault. I know that if you had your way, you would’ve seen colour with Steve from that very first glance. If not Steve, you would’ve picked me, obviously.” You laugh slightly, “Steve will understand that you didn’t want or mean for this to happen. His soulmate is someone else as well.”

“But his is dead. My soulmate is another Super Soldier who has a freaking metal arm and used to be an assassin!”

“Don’t knock assassins,” she scolds with a smile, “I’ve seen the way you and Steve are together and I know that you’re the real deal, soulmate or not. You know that too. Your talk with Bucky seems like you two are pretty okay with nothing happening between the pair of you and that’s a good first step.”

“What do I do?”

She squeezed your hand and gave you a small smile, “You know what to do.”

You let out a long breath and nodded slightly, “I have to tell Steve.”

Natasha smiled. She was one of your closest friends, she seemed to understand you pretty well. She understood your anguish and your pain and she would always listen to your problems. Steve was close with Nat for the exact same reasons. She helped and she listened. Natasha had welcomed you practically with open arms (except she hated hugs) when Steve introduced you to her. Straightaway she knew that you two were made for each other, even if the universe didn’t think it. She made a comment that stuck with you to this day,  ‘You both make each other a better person. You share the load and take turns of carrying the burdens. It’s not common that happens.’

To distract you, she updated you on her and Bruce Banner saying that he’d finally asked her out and their date was tonight, “I’m sorry. I know the last thing you want to deal with is my relationship problems,” you apologised as she told you.

“Don’t be silly, I’d rather help you than worry about what I’m meant to say on this date! I’ve not been on a date in years!”

“You’ll be fine,” you laughed, draining the last of your coffee, “You know that the pair of you are soulmates just... no work talk.”

Natasha looked like a deer caught in the headlights, “No work talk? What am I meant to talk about?!”

“I don’t know... the weather?”

The redhead rolled her eyes, “I’m not taking advice from someone who’s dating their soulmate’s best friend.”

“Low blow,” you said laughing. She did always know how to lighten the mood, “You’ll be fine, Nat.” As if on cue, you get a text, “It’s Steve... asking when I’m coming home. Can’t put it off any longer.” Standing, Nat tells you that she’s proud of you.

“It won’t be easy but... it’s the right thing to do.”

In the car ride over, you had rehearsed what you’d say to Steve. You would tell him everything that happened, you’d tell him about Bucky, about the conversation you had with him, about the real reason why you had a migraine and you’d apologise for not telling him as soon as it happened. You were scared but fear isn’t a real excuse to not do the right thing. You hoped that he wouldn’t hate you. You hoped that he would forgive you for not saying something sooner.

As you open Steve’s apartment door, you hear laughter... You frown as you close the door behind you, “Steve?” You call out.

“(y/n), you’re home,” Steve replies, “We’re in here.”

“Who’s we?” You ask, kicking off your shoes and peering around the corner,  “Oh.” You don’t look at the figure sitting next to Steve. You can’t. You’ll lose your composure and everything will be a mess again.

Steve grinned, “Bucky thought he’d stop by, isn’t that great?”

You force a smile, “Amazing! I’m going to go make myself some lunch.” Quickly, you rush into the kitchen, trying to slow your heartrate. What the fuck is he doing here?!

That’s when someone clear their throat from behind you, “I brought the coffee mugs we used back...” Bucky Barnes was the last person you wanted to see right now and now, here he was, standing in your kitchen trying to make conversation with you?! Universe, you and I need to have a good long chat.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is harsher than it should be but you’re annoyed. You’d agreed to only see each other when necessary not randomly! You thought that you’d be able to tell Steve yourself without unwelcome guests such as Bucky.

“Steve said you were out and I thought I’d be okay to see him for a few hours!” Bucky’s just as annoyed apparently not wanting to see you much more than you wanted to see him. He’s annoyed that you’re annoyed. You turn to him, glaring into those blue eyes, “Look, I know you hate me for fucking things up but... I needed to see you.”

“Why?!” You’re whisper shouting at each other and you were so glad that Steve didn’t have super hearing.

“Because I- I can’t stop thinking about you!” He hisses, arms flailing as his eyes bore into your soul, “I never slept because I couldn’t get you out of my head!”

You’re breathing hard as you look at him. He couldn’t sleep because he was too busy thinking of you? “You couldn’t sleep either?” Bucky cocks his head in confusion, “Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw were yours.” You explained and you give a bitter laugh, “Forgive me for being annoyed but I wanted the first colour I saw to be Steve’s eyes, not yours so yeah, I’m a little pissed.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Oh, I’m sorry, princess,” he scoffs, “If I had it my way, I wouldn’t have picked you to be my soulmate. Plenty more people better.” The comment stings. You don’t know Bucky at all, all you know is what Steve told you of him but so far, he had made a terrible impression. Though to be fair, you’d said similar things to him so... Immediately, he groans and realises how big of a dick he looks, “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just- It’s-”

“Complicated. I know... I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit of a bitch. I never thought that this would happen. I’m stressed and I feel like I’m going to get a stomach ulcer from the stress.”

Bucky nods, “I’m sorry too... I’m sorry for showing up here too. Steve said you’d be out but I was hoping to see you again. I couldn’t sleep last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I’d met you first.”

“Bucky...” Your voice is a warning. A warning to not break over that threshold because once you break it, there’s absolutely no fixing it. It’s a warning that nothing will happen between the two of you. 

He realises and quickly straightens, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just... Just don’t go there,” you say with a nod as you turn around and open the fridge. You pull out some leftovers from your dinner the night before and go to the microwave to reheat it. The pair of you are quiet; the only noise to be heard is the hum of the microwave, “We should tell him,” you say eventually.

Bucky sighs. He too felt terrible for lying to Steve but he thought that hiding it was the easier thing to do, “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You nod as the microwave beeps, “We have to tell Steve.”

“Tell me what?” Steve asks, walking into the kitchen and placing some dirty dishes on the counter, “What’s going on? You okay?” Your eyes fleet between Steve who remains happy yet confused and Bucky who won’t stop staring at you with the deep stare. 

Oh, fuck.

[elias-code]

That's My Job - Glatt x gn!reader

~ Ask Link ~

Characters: Glatt x gn!reader, Fundy, mentioning Quackity

Summary: You haven't been back to Manburg since Schlatt died. Now that Techno's destroyed every trace of it, you've returned with Fundy to drink and mourn. Fundy leaves you to your devices and Glatt ends up waking you up, taking care of you, and confessing...

Warnings: lots of cursing, heavy drinking, death, mourning

------ sorry it's so angsty lmao I just love torturing myself :) ------

Ever since Schlatt suffered his massive heart attack at the end of his presidential term, you’ve been wandering the SMP. You’d gotten close to him during his campaign trail, eventually helping him do paperwork, or rather, you did it all for him. You hadn’t been back to Manburg since his death, but now that it was gone, completely gone, you decided it was time to return.

It was a crater. Nothing was left. The office building was gone, the festival grounds were gone, and even the presidential podium was gone. Now, glass covered the crater, giving you the full view of what you had been most afraid of. It made you sick to look at it, bringing up memories from the election.

The worst part of it was that he was gone. Everything in Manburg that reminded you of him was gone, even his friends were gone. The group split shortly after he died, giving up on the decimated country. He was the only thing keeping them together. For better or for worse.

“Hey, Fundy,” You said, stuffing your hands in your pockets. He'd offered to come with you, knowing just how hard it was to be back there.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again," He carried a bottle in his hand and offered it to you. He'd already popped it open and taken a sip of it. "It's a bit strong, but you might need it."

"Thanks," You took it readily, not bothering to read the label before you took a swig. The liquid hit your tongue and burned as it went down. You coughed, spitting the remaining drink on the ground, "What the hell is this stuff?!"

Fundy was practically on the ground laughing. Your tongue and throat still burned from the alcohol and you rotated the bottle to read the label.

Fundy™ Vodka, (98% alcohol)

"Are you trying to kill me Fundy? This shit is ninety-eight percent alcohol?! How did you manage that?" he continued laughing at you as your face burned from embarrassment.

"It's a trade secret," he chuckled, "The people in Las Nevadas really love it," he shrugged.

"How are they all not dead?"

"Don't ask me," He said, "I'm just their dealer. Quackity buys in bulk."

For a moment, it was as if Schlatt never died. You laughed with Fundy for a bit, drank, and reminisced. It was like old times, the hay day, but every time you looked around, you were painfully reminded of the past.

"Hey, I wanted to show you something." Fundy stood, offering you a hand. You were both buzzed already. Each sip of the vodka went down like two shots and you'd gotten a decent way down the bottle by now.

"I'm happy to stay anywhere other than here," You took his hand and gestured around at the crater, "This place sucks." You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed Fundy off the path.

You looked down as you walked. You didn't want to be reminded of him any more than you had to. The people here were moving on from it all already. To be fair, it had been a while, but you'd been closer to him than anyone else, even closer than Quackity.

"Here," He stopped and pointed at the clump stones in front of him. He sat down on the bench as he had done many times before, letting you inspect your surroundings.

"What is this?"

"It's a shrine thing I made," He said sadly, "A long time ago. I haven't been here in a long time, so I refreshed the flowers a bit for you."

The cobblestones were unmarked, put in a rough pile surrounded by oxeye daisies and dandelions. To any passer-by, it was just a pile of rocks. To you and Fundy, it was Schlatt's grave.

Of course, he wasn't buried there. He'd been buried in a nice grave surrounded by gold and diamonds, but it had been griefed so many times that it wasn't worth visiting anymore. Instead of being reminded of him, you were reminded of how many people hated him. Here, it was much quieter.

"Thoughts?" Fundy asked, passing you the bottle as you sat with him.

"It's not bad," You took a swig, used to the taste by now, "I can't help but think that it's painfully accurate that we're getting drunk at his grave."

Fundy laughed briefly, eventually letting the blanket of silence fall over you. The lump in your throat rose once more and you swallowed it with another sip. This must be what he felt like at the end. Drinking to forget, shoving his problems down as far as he could with each drink until, one day, his heart couldn't take it anymore.

"You ok?" Fundy asked, concerned.

"Huh? Yeah," You stared blankly at the stone pile, "Just thinking."

"You're crying," He said.

You touched your cheek and found it wet with tears. You hadn't cried since the day he died, the day you left.

"Do you..." He sighed, "Want some time alone?"

You hesitated. "Yeah," you croaked, "as long as I get to keep the alcohol,"

"Just don't drink it all," He touched your head and walked off.

-

"Hey. Hey. Get up," You felt a finger poke your temple and you jerked awake to Schlatt's voice.

"Finally," He sighed, "What do you think you're doing on my property?"

Through your hazy vision, you saw him.

"Schlatt?" You reached your hand out towards him, but you felt nothing.

"Yeah, yeah," He moved out of your reach, "Hands off, kid."

You rubbed your eyes and squinted, there's no fuckin' way...

"What the hell?" You spat, "Is this a fever dream or some shit?"

In front of you was Schlatt, or a paler blue version of him. He was holding the bottle of vodka, reading the label.

"Oh so Fundy's got a damn business now, does he?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," You ignored him, "Schlatt?! You're alive??"

"Calm down," He rolled his eyes at you, "haven't you ever seen a ghost before?"

He tossed the bottle back to you but you fumbled it and it shattered on the ground.

"Shit!" The bottle broke into sharp, jagged pieces. No vodka came out of the bottle, it was empty.

"You're still a terrible catch, good to know," He sat beside you, walking through the glass. You realised with a start, He's translucent...

You woke up fully, putting your hands on your face and shaking your head. Your brain rattled around in your skull, giving you a painful migraine. The bottle was empty... how much did I drink? Your memory from the past few hours was more or less blank, only the occasional flash of sunset or Fundy was left.

"You're drunk as fuck, you know that?" He said, sitting judgingly.

"What?" I must be if he's here, "Are you even real?"

"Yeah," He sounded offended, "Look at me! What do you mean am I real?"

You laughed, now convinced you were out of your mind. "How was I supposed to know?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, evaluating your mental state. "That stuff will kill you." He said, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, and you'd know all about that, Schlatt," You spat, "As if I hadn't warned you a thousand times,"

He leaned back, "Says the person who left the country the moment I died,"

This sent you over the edge and you started sobbing. You put your hands to your face, practically screaming into them. You refused to deal with these emotions for so long, and in some cruel twist of fate, you'd become the thing you hated the most. You'd done the thing you warned Schlatt about countless times. It finally came back to bite you in the ass.

"Sorry, I-" He started, putting his hand on your back. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't the best at comfort, "I've missed you,"

Your sobbing calmed down slightly, downgrading to crying. The tears stung your eyes and your throat burned, partly from the drink, partly from the stress you were releasing.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," He said, standing to lead you down the path. You followed, stumbling slightly as the drink caught up to your balance. Just before you fell, he caught you and slung your arm around his shoulder, practically carrying you.

"Man, I was hoping you'd be in better shape the first time I saw you."

"What do you mean?" You mumbled, leaning on him heavily.

"I mean I haven't seen you in so long," He bit his lip, "I was starting to think you'd never come back. Then I saw you with Fundy, drunk as a skunk, sleeping on my bench. Not what I'd say was a good first impression. In such a long time, I mean."

"Yeah, but you're... dead."

"So? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you died. You had a fucking heart attack, alright? We mourned for you, I mourned for you. I ran away because I couldn't bear to look at them. Those people who said they were your friends. They took different sides. They gave up on you. In a way, I guess I did too, just because I had to."

He grits his teeth but kept walking. "I was just as disappointed in them as you, kid."

You'd reached the end of the path. He looked around quickly and opened the door. You recognized it as Fundy's house. It was vacant, Fundy was nowhere in sight. Schlatt laid you down on his bed, leaving to get a washcloth and a glass of water.

"Sit up," He said, pushing the glass into your hand.

You grabbed it readily and took a swig, dehydrated from the tears you'd shed. As you drank, he put the damp washcloth to your forehead and neck, trying his best to sober you up a bit.

"You're on fire." He said, frowning at you. "Your face is all red. How much of that stuff did you drink?"

"The whole bottle," You muttered.

"And you're still alive?" He laughed.

"I'd ask Quackity the same thing,"

"What does this have to do with Quackity?"

"Fundy's selling it to Las Nevadas, I guess." You shrugged and he haphazardly dropped the washcloth in Fundy's cauldron.

"What?"

"Las Nevadas," You laid back down, "Quackity has a city now. Leaned into the whole gambling thing."

"Jesus, I missed a lot, haven't I?" He laid next to you, the sheets didn't move.

"I guess so." You turned to look at him. His suit was torn like he hadn't changed it since the day he died. His beard was barely shaped, his hair a mess, and his horns were as sharp as ever. He was exactly the same as he looked that day. Dishevelled and broken down.

"I mean it, I missed you." He said, "It's not like I had any paperwork to watch you do, but I wish I had."

"You watched me do that?"

"Yeah, I had to make sure you weren't stealing it or something," He excused.

You chuckled, "You never kept track of that shit, there was no way you would have known."

"Alright fine, you want me to admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"You make this... face when you work. When you're really focusing on something... It's hard to look away."

Your heart skipped. The ghost of Schlatt confessed to having a crush on you? No one would believe this, especially since you barely believed it yourself. You burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

"What?!" He snapped.

You kept laughing as your head throbbed, the headache coming out in full force now, "You had a crush on me?"

He scowled, "No." He sat up and tapped his foot on the ground, "I have a crush on you."

Huh? "Even though I've been gone for months?"

"Yeah," He said, "It's not like you forget someone like that."

He sounded sad, distant almost. Like you were the ghost.

"Hey," You shuffled over to him, putting a hand on his leg, "It's super cheesy, but," You sighed, god I sound like a child, "I like you, too."

His face flushed, as much as a dead person's face could flush. "Little old dead Schlatt?"

"Yeah, why not?" You sighed, "It's been so long since I've seen you, but... I mean, why do you think I left?"

"I don't know. I thought about that a lot while you were gone."

"I left because I cared about you. It was too hard to see you in everything around me. I left to get my mind off of you because every waking moment of every goddamn day was spent thinking about you," He looked at you, poorly holding his poker face, "I only came back because everything was gone. There was nothing to come back to. Or so I thought."

"Yeah, Technoblade did that." He jeered, "Twice."

"This isn't about him," You put your head on his shoulder, "If I'd have known you were still here... I would have stayed."

"To be fair, I was stuck in... hell... for a while until I finally figured out how to get back up here," He said, "By the time I'd come back... You were long gone. Months had passed."

"It was selfish for me to leave. I'm sorry."

"No, it was shitty of me to be mad you didn't stay. You told me so many times to put down the damn bottle and yet, you stayed by my side until the end. I let you down."

"I guess we both have things to be sorry for, then." You said.

You sat in silence for a while, coming to terms with what you'd both just said. It wasn't in either of your characters to say anything like this. There were some serious feelings passing back and forth between the two of you, and nothing to prepare you for them.

"Fuck I'm gonna puke," You said.

He pulled back, "Don't do it on me, sicko, Jesus!"

You laughed, "I'm fuckin joking, relax,"

"Just..." He leaned back and grabbed a blanket to swaddle you in it, "No more drinking, no more feelings for tonight. You need to sleep, and I've got all the time in the world to watch over you."

"It sounds creepy when you put it that way," you pouted.

"I'm not gonna-" He rolled his eyes and tucked you in, "Just let me know if you need anything. We don't really need sleep with the 'eternal slumber' bullshit, ya know?"

---

I don't know how to end this lmao, I hope you enjoyyyyyyed :3

[darkdevasofdestruction]

When You Become A Fallen

(( This premise is about reader being one of the Seraphim, and she was/fell in love with one of the brothers, which made God shun her from the Celestial Realm, and thus, how each of the brothers helps her through her transformations to a Demon and her new lifestyle. ))

---

LUCIFER

Quite frankly, he took it the hardest, as he too was a Seraph back in the days, God’s most beloved angel, and the descend changed him a lot, even if he doesn’t want to admit.

When he saw your broken form on the ground, he cradled your body close to his chest, feeling fear and panic just as when Lilith almost died, so he went to plead to Diavolo to allow you permanent stay in the Devildom as well, saying that he’ll do anything for this favour, just like before.

Centuries passed since he descended, and while he still has nightmares of what happened, the pain and transformation were something that he forced himself to forget, at least for his own pride and ego, but seeing you in such excruciating pain was an even worse torture than before.

He knew there was little he or anyone else could do regarding all this, but he will be there by your side for the whole duration of it, no matter how long it took, be it days, weeks or months, he wouldn’t be pried away from you.

For the most of the day, Lucifer had you sit on his lap, both of you wearing light sleeping wear, so you could feel each other’s body heat, thinking it would help ease the pain, even by a little.

However, as soon as your 3 pairs of majestic, pure white wings started blankening, while one of the pairs also started burning, feather by feather, you became unreasonable, as you couldn’t even think or speak properly because of the agony surging through your every artery, vein, capillary and nerve in your body.

You were desperately clinging to him, scratching his back and arms, screeching for forgiveness, begging him to kill you already and end this pain, questioning what you did wrong, except have pure and unwavering  feelings of love for someone, and all Lucifer could do was hold you tightly, a had on the back of your head, putting your face on the crook of his neck, while the other was on your back, putting you glued to his chest, trying to keep you still and potentially causing yourself more damage.

“WHY, GOD, WHY?! WHAT HAVE I DONE SO WRONG TO FALL OUT OF YOUR GRACES?! IS IT REALLY FORBIDDEN TO FOLLOW YOUR HEART AND FEELINGS?! CURSE YOU! CURSE THE CELESTIAL REALM! CURSE ALL YOUR FUCKING ANGELS! YOU ARE A MONSTERS!” you kept crying out, cursing the skies, and Lucifer, in his head and heart, was yelling the same thing as you were.

His own heart was crying out in despair seeing his beloved like that, and for the first time since Lilith, he shed tears of pure sorrow, cursing God, the Celeastial Realm and all the angels there, and more, cursing himself for allowing both of them to become lovers back when they were angels, because his act of rebelling against God only brought you intense suffering.

There is nothing Lucifer wouldn’t do for you, no matter how impossible it seemed, but you are the only person he ever had such a connection with, so he treasures you as much as his own brothers.

He knows how difficult it was for him to completely accept he was a Demon and blend in to this new place, but he will be there for you to guide and teach you with every step you took, always holding you hand, always giving you genuine and tender smiles to help you feel more at ease, and of course, he will make sure you room with him so you won’t ever be alone and afraid again.

---

MAMMON

He freaks out so bad at first, questioning you out loud a thousand questions, while fidgeting from leg to leg and looking around for help.

Why were you here? Why were you injured? What happened? Are you alright?

Of course you weren’t alright, damn it! Stupid Mammon! Do something!

He picked you up and brought you to Lucifer, crying desperately and asking what the hell he was supposed to do, because he had no idea what the hell happened and why you were the way you are, and for the first time in ages, Lucifer didn’t yell at him, nor did he insult him - He actually helped him as much as he could, because he knew what was going on, and his heart broke at seeing his beloved little brother crying like that.

In his room, you wouldn’t stop crying and holding your head - You had migraines, your scalp was burning, your whole skin felt ablaze, you felt akin to a witch being burnt alive, and poor Mammon was crying along with you, not knowing if he should touch you, in fear of hurting you more, or holding you tightly and letting you cry away everything that hurt.

Mammon tried to kiss your tears away, put on music to help you keep your mind away from the pain, tried to tell you silly stories from his failed plans, or from his brothers to make you laugh, but in the end, nothing really helped, and he felt that the sky fell on him.

That is, until he turned away from you, gripping his hair in despair as he was running out of ideas to help you and his heart was being ripped apart more and more...But you gripped on his jacket and pulled him in a tight embrace from the back, resting your forehead on the blades of his shoulders, making him stop dead in his track, stiff as a board.

“Mammon, it hurts...Mammon, don’t leave me, please...Please keep on staying me me. Don’t leave me again. I missed you so much...So much that I didn’t even realise that the whole Celestial Realm knew I was in love with you ever since you were an angel...Everyone knew, except for me...But I missed you so much...And they said it’s forbidden. But I can’t live without you.” you sobbed, your fingers and nails digging into his chest as you confessed your sin and the reason you got in this position, which frankly, it made Mammon feel both guilty and even more head over heels with you.

Honestly, nobody ever expressed their feelings to him the way you did, unless it was Stupid Mammon left and right...But you...You were being so genuine and pure...You were real...You loved him...And now there was no barrier between you two...

He cursed himself for being happy with what happened, despite your agony, but he was a greedy man, and he craved your affection more than flowers need the Sun, so he continued to try to put a smile on your face and make the transformation easier to bear with.

Realising that your horns were beginning to grow, he transformed into his demon self and taking your hands in his gingerly, he put them over his own horns, reassuring you that everything will be okay, that they will grow pretty fast and all the agony will go away soon.

When the transformation was done, he was extremely overprotective of you becoming a student at RAD, dragging you with him everywhere, but he tried to be more responsible this time, as he had to take care of you and he couldn’t risk some angry witches or other demons attacking you to get to him.

--- LEVIATHAN

Kinda like Mammon, he was panicked beyond belief, not understanding how the hell did you get yourself in that position, but instead of freaking out, he kinda looked at you, stunned, unmoving, until he finally managed to snap out of it and carried you to his room, while calling Lucifer and telling him the gist of it.

Levi knew that his room was incredibly aesthetic and relaxing, having an aquatic theme, so hopefully, it will help you bear with the transformation and adaptation to this new life-style easier, and hopefully, not have any problems with blending in, especially since he will be there for you at every step you took.

And if that wasn’t enough, since Levi barely leaves the room, he would shelter you like a mother would her little baby, coddling you, wrapping his tail around you protectively, helping you take slightly cold baths to get rid of the burning and itching sensation of your horns and wings transforming, and showing you Henry 2.0 and promising you that he will be your best friend too.

However, the transformation for you wasn’t as bad as the spiraling and paranoia that seemed to completely engulf you, which made you quite hysterical for a while, and no amount of video games and anime could prepare Levi for this mess.

“Levi, what if they come after me? What if they aren’t happy with me being alive? What if they take me back and try to torture me to death? I don’t want back there again...Levi, I’m afraid, please protect me.” you clutched his blouse while sobbing in his shoulder, and all he could do was hold you tightly and promise you that everything will be okay and he would let nobody touch you again.

He would then start telling you about TSL and how The Lord of Shadows will always be there to protect his Henry, which is when you asked him if he would be your Lord of Shadows, and his face started blushing like crazy, and he vowed to himself that you, his most precious person, will never ever have to feel any kind of pain ever again, and he will be there for you no matter what.

Levi understands what’s like being afraid, nervous, anxious, which is something he often feels himself, and thus, the reason for preferring to take online classes rather than going physically to a classroom, which is something that he will ask for for you too, and thankfully, Lucifer approves of it, understanding the situation.

His hectic sleeping schedule is always messed up by his love for binge-watching and binge-playing, something you often partake into as a way to keep the intrusive thoughts away from your head, and it is rather effective.

However, on the occasions that you’re having a mental breakdown and start spiraling once again, no matter what hour of the day or night it is, Levi will be there to tell you how he loves you, how you’re safe with him, that nobody would ever dare cross Diavolo’s rules on his own domain, and that those angels up there were shitheads for prosecuting you for something as pure as loving someone.

--- SATAN

Out of all the demon brothers, he is obviously the only one who didn’t have to go through the whole metamorphosis ritual, because he never was an angel to begin with.

He knows, however, the excruciating pain that you’re going through, as him and Lucifer share some of the more powerful emotions and memories he used to have, and so, he has an idea, backing up all the stories he heard from 3rd parties, from his brothers and from books.

Satan will make all of his brothers send him thorough voice messages to explain what they went through and how he could help you, and thus, he would be pampering and taking care of you every second, without a second thought.

He couldn’t believe that you truly fell for him after just one year of spending time together, during the exchange-student program, when you came to Devildom...I mean, he was a demon, and while yes, he too fell for you, he was in shock hearing that such a pure and perfect being such as yourself would ever harbour such feelings for him, a demon, and the Avatar of Wrath nonetheless...

“Satan...Why...Why is it such a sin to fall in love? What have I done so cruel...So unforgivable...That I deserve to go through all this pain...All this agony...All I wanted was to be happy...Is that so selfish of me to ask? Am I not allowed to live the rest of my life with someone that I genuinely cherish so much...?” she cried with so much self-hatred that it made Satan want to burn the whole Celestial Realm and torture and rip apart every feather, every limb of those stupid angels and flay them alive, letting the lesser demons eat them.

The pain you’re being subjected to is exhausting you so much, but if you stand still, it feels like it’s hurting tenfold, so you try to keep yourself moving around the room, until you collapse from over-exerting your already frail body.

Satan would only look at you in pity, as he tried to hide the burning rage he harboured in his heart, along with all the death-threats he wanted to throw away at God and all the stupid angels who dared do this to you, so he picks you up gently, putting you on his bed, puts a light blanket over you and goes to prepare a cup of calming tea that has somnolent effects, hoping that it would help you heal faster and regain some of your strength through resting.

He would hold you close to his chest, kissing your forehead, stroking your hair, trying to keep you drowsy and calm, while also reading you one very interesting book, Harrison Porter, as it had lots of magic spells and he could show you the spells, to fascinate you, and try to keep your thoughts away from the pain.

Of course, he would be researching all remedies, spells and treatments to help ease the pain, so he would be rubbing creams with and lotions on your back and on your wings, to calm down the pain, would put spells on you to give you sweet dreams every night, and would always hold you tightly and promise you that nobody would ever come with any ill-intent towards you, and that he would kill anyone who dares even look at you the wrong way.

Since he has always been a demon, he is very popular and sociable, so blending in would be much easier with him by your side, as he would take you as his date everywhere - Be it a sports game, a theater play, an opera play, a ballet, a social gathering, a ballroom dance, a drive-outside cinema, or colour festival, a concert...Or literally anything.

---

ASMODEUS

No matter how dramatic and extra Asmo loves to be, this was no joking matter, and the person he knew he could always rely on, and that was his eldest brother, Lucifer, the only being that he ever looked up to, that he ever admired - Lucifer, the one who used to be a Seraph, just like you.

He wanted to understand what Lucifer went through, because sure, Asmo knew the physical transformations his brother went through, but he couldn’t know of the emotional trauma, or how different it was for him, as he was, after all, the highest-ranking angel in the Celestial Realm.

He then correlated with how disgusted he remembered both himself and Lucifer felt when looking into the mirror and realising they weren’t the divine beings from before, but a wretched abomination, and how long it took them to come to terms with the idea, and finally try to find the specks of beauty that others saw in them, despite the changes.

It was true, you went through a lot of pain, exhaustion, mental breakdowns, trauma, all because of how agonising the transformation was, and Asmo was there for you to brighten up and ease you through everything, not wanting you to be alone, like they were, so seeing his gorgeous and loving smile always seemed to make the corners of your mouth tilt upwards, even by a little bit.

Asmo would cuddle you and pamper you with an infinite amount of kisses, and of course, would give you frequent back rubs, wing massages, scalp massages, knowing that those were the most painful and affected areas, and thankfully enough, all the beauty products he used on you were cool and had calming and painkilling effects, so at least was better for you.

When it was all over, however, the horror didn’t end, as you saw yourself in the mirror and fell to your knees shrieking at your new appearance...That wasn’t you...It couldn’t be you...This...This abomination...This tainted thing...

Your desperation and self-hatred were so through the roof that you punched the mirror and clutched the shards in your hands, not even feeling any pain, because everything was ablaze anyway, and not even your tears could pull out the fire inside you.

Asmo was devastated seeing you like this, it made him want to sob, to pull you to his chest and cry out, telling him how he hates seeing you like this, that you remind him of himself, that deep inside him, despite all the narcissism he puts on display, he is also still a bit insecure and wishes he had the same appearance as before...But what hurt him the most was seeing you hating yourself so much, and having ended up like him, just because your heart chose the wrong person to have such intense feelings for.

“This is not me...This can’t be me...Asmodeus, what the hell is wrong with your mirror, it’s broken...It’s cursed...This isn’t me, this isn’t how I look...It can’t be...My wings...My feathers...They are all black...And these horns...And this gem...And the markings...This new outfit...What is this...Why...Why me...Why...?! Why am I being cursed for being in love?! Is this how ugly, tainted and abominable my soul is?! Is that why I look like this?! Is that WHY I became this?!” you tore away at your hair, as Asmo could only fix the mirror quickly, to avoid you getting more injured, and cradled your smaller form to his chest, whispering reassuring words and compliments.

He would do all his beauty routines with you, would compliment you endlessly, would make you try out a thousand and more outfits that he bought for you, showing you off, taking pics of you and boasting with you on DevilGram, since you’re the most gorgeous babe alive and he’s lucky to have you in his life, and now, you and him are the most beautiful couple ever to exist, without a doubt.

He would never tell you all the emotional trauma and self-hatred he went through, because as long as he could make you smile and help teach you how to love yourself again, and see the beauty in your new appearance, Asmodeus was happy and didn’t need anything else.

--- BEELZEBUB

For poor Beel, this was the whole Lilith problem all over again, blaming and hating himself for letting her die (sort of), and now, here you were, a Fallen, broken, lost, depressed, all because you loved him, and he loved you, but he rebelled and now you were caught in the crossfire.

No matter how kind and sweet he is, this is the second time the Celestial Realm crushed his heart and stomped on his feelings, hurting the people he loves most, and this was too much...He would never be able to forgive them, no matter what...And especially not his Father for being so cruel with the angels that loved him so much and were beyond devout to him.

For him, the changes weren’t as painful, and that may be because of his built, and how he finds it easier to deal with physical pain, rather than the emotional one, as he feels like he’s getting blow after blow in that aspect, but he must be strong, for you, for Belphie, for Lilith and for his brothers too.

Beel knows he’s very physically strong, even by demon standards, so he will be a bit afraid at the beginning to touch you, fearing that he will make you hurt more than you already do, but as soon as you nestle yourself in his embrace, he can’t help himself and he puts his arms around you, making you feel safer, protected, and you can deal the agony better, even by a bit.

If he could, he would take away all the pain that you’re feeling, he would go through all that agony a thousands times, just so he could spare you all this pain, he would volunteer to get his wings burnt, grow a new set of horns, would even let himself go through all the paranoia, the nightmares, the burning feeling of your skin...Even the incapacity to eat demon food...Only to spare you of all that horror...

But that wasn’t possible, unfortunately, so all he could do was stay by your side through all of it and try to make it more bearable, because, after all, he still had Belphie, so he wasn’t alone, and neither will you be.

He completely forgot how, at the beginning, for quite a long time, his body refused to digest demon food, so he would get sick and vomit every time he would try to eat something, but was quickly reminded when you made a sprint to the bathroom and he could only hold your hair as you puked your guts out, crying at the pain.

“Why do I have to go through this...God...Why...The wings...The horns...And now, I can’t even eat? Am I supposed to just starve to death...? Is that what you want, Father? Is this the Divine Punishment I get for wanting my loved ones to be safe? That I wanted to see you and tell you how much I care for you, because I never got the chance when you were still an angel? Is that how angels should really be? Hateful of others? Then I’m glad I don’t have to associate myself with such cruel creatures like you, Father!” you growled in anger, frustration, pain, hatred and agony, letting out all your feelings that have been bottled up for so many centuries, but at least now, Beel was there to hold you tight and tell you that everything will be okay, and you still have him.

He would completely stop eating around you, because despite being the Avatar of Gluttony, he couldn’t possibly tempt you with food and make you feel worse, so every so often, he would bring you some light human food, like crackers, water, milk, some vegetables, toast, to help you get some nutrients for your body, so you won’t collapse, at least, even though it was obvious you were becoming paler and skinnier, which worried Beel a lot.

Even so, Beel was always by your side, carrying you if you felt weak at some moment, helping you eat bit by beat, making sure you get a healthy portions, and just the right foods, integrating some little bits of demon food, and before you knew it, you were completely able to have a proper demon meal, and were getting better.

From then on, you will always sleep in his bed, either cuddling or holding hands, because both of you are afraid of losing the other, of having through go through all that torture again, but at least the day was much brighter and you could inally go out together and live your life as a normal student in Devildom would.

--- BELPHEGOR

The Avatar of Sloth has so much pent up rage and hatred, that he may need to take over the title of Avatar of Wrath before long.

First, hating the whole human world, because of Lilith’s death, hating demons because of the misunderstanding with Diavolo and Lucifer, and now, wanting to burn and torture to death the whole Celestial Realm for shunning you like that, letting you to rot, broken, on the ground, as if you were worth less than a vermin.

It took every ounce of self-control Belphegor had to stop himself from unleashing his hatred on the world, and get you to his room to tend to you, hoping and doing his best to make sure you are alright.

He is going to force Beel to keep him awake, because, due to his Avatar Sin, he is prone to falling asleep quite easily, which would only be counter-productive and he wouldn’t be able to sooth your pain and fears this way, so he’s going to sacrifice days and nights of sleep just to make sure you’re not crying anymore.

No matter how harsh his speech is, it does a complete 180 when it comes to you, he will speak in the softest voice possible, would look at you with the most tender look on his face, would give you lost of reassuring gentle kisses, would stroke your hair soothingly, while also humming an old lullaby that Lilith used to sing to him, and would brush away the hair from your face, to see your gorgeous eyes sparkling.

He hates seeing you in so much pain, but every time he curses the angels in his head, he’s just going to hug you tighter, as a way to stop himself from crying at your misfortune, because you’re too pure and kind, you don’t deserve to go through all this pain, it’s just not fair...

What was worse is that, after all this physical mess ended, the emotional and mental one only began, as you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep, because of all the nightmares plaguing your mind all the time, waking you up, making you cry and scream, tremble in fear and anxiety, while all Belphie could do was to hug you tightly, turn on the light, and tell you the same generic reassuring words because...What else was there for him to even say anymore?!

“I’m scared, Belphie, I’m scared...I’m afraid that if I fall asleep, I’m just going to get more nightmares, and maybe I won’t even wake up after that. I’m afraid that if I wake up, you will be taken away from me...Or that they will drag me back to the Celestial Realm to torture me for treason...I’m afraid I’ll have to go through all that over and over and over again...Belphie, I’m exhausted, I’m losing my mind...I just want to have one fucking night of proper sleep...Just one...Is that too much to ask? Am I really that undeserving of feeling rested, just because I fell in love? Is that how things are for those perfect frauds up there?!” you sobbed, clinging on Belphie, as he could only curse them together with you, giving you approving words, and cuddling with you, you try to fall asleep on his cow-patterned pillow, lights still on, drinking a cup of hot milk with honey, thanks to Beel who went to prepare some for the both of you.

Even for him, who has been a demon for so long, nightmares never ended, but at least they weren’t as frequent as yours, so to help you out, even by a bit, he started looking around for remedies, spells, drinks, to get you into a deep sleep with no dreams, at least for now, to help you regain even a bit of your strength back and not be a zombie anymore.

Belphie would get incredibly passive-aggressive and protective of you, growling at anyone that may be considered a threat to you, that approaches you, and wouldn’t let you alone for even a second, in fear of somehow losing you - You’re either with him, or with one of his brothers, or in yours or his room, and frankly, you’re happy knowing that you can finally feel a sense of security after so long.

[corvixa]

I am alive! Long, rambly post ahead.

So. I did a thing. After 2 or 3 years on a waiting list of therapy, I got it. Good right? Ahuh...

A weekly appointment at 10.30 am is apparently my kryptonite.

It was fine at first, but I got utterly sidelined with the cumulative effect and the fact I wasn't able to reset my energy. But, I was determined like, I'd breakthrough.

Uh. That did not happen. All I could do was attend that appointment. For the first time since I started writing again post house explosion, I couldn't even write. I managed to not some ideas down. Carry on a few plots in my head. Still, even with my insomnia, I was stuck with my facemask on, desperately trying to get enough energy to eat, and occasionally failing even that.

After I had to take a break for a few weeks running for dental appointments and Covid Vaccines, I gained enough energy back to do that look around and reflect thing.

Hell, I might not have been perfect before this, but I enjoyed things. I chatted with friends. I lurked in the Stark Tower discord plotting new ideas. I got to write. I got to do real-world hobbies. I got to spend time awake with my partners!

So, after my vaccine and several days with a very high fever, I kind of decided. Fuck it. This isn't worth it. I have clawed my little part of this world out, and I am not going to lose it.

Sometimes you have to weigh up the cost-benefit analysis. What good may come from these 16 appointments was utterly stopper by the bomb dropped on my life. So I came out of my fever cave of blankets, had an incredibly hot bath and decided this wasn't working.

The early appointment alone was killing me; I am crepuscular by nature. Not being sarcastic there; this is how I have dealt with severe levels of insomnia since age 12. I tried being an average human that wakes up in the morning and goes to bed at night for decades, and it didn't work. I am most active after 11 pm, and I nap during the day. It's not a perfect fix; if it were, the Gold series would literally not exist as that is my Insomnia in a cape. However, sleeping at least once in a 24 hour period nearly every day is THE WIN. Being not awake at 10.30 am, but already at an appointment, where I was expected to be coherent? Weekly? With no variable illnesses? Even the stint in hospital I had was around me making these appointments... Not getting better from fall.

Honestly, I have no idea what past me was thinking, but after they went to 2 or 3 appointments and didn't feel too bad, they committed hard to this course of action. That was a mistake that I thought I had learned a long time ago, that assessing the work-life balance is critical. This might not be work, but it was the same thing.

So, How am I doing? Better. Not aces, but the Covid fever of doom made me miss last weeks appointment. The week before, it was the Covid.2 Jab and today I had the dentist.

And this morning, before my dental appointment, I started writing. My partners were over the moon. I am not back on full capacitor yet, but I am clawing my way back. Heck, I felt alive enough to prat about in the garden as my partner wanted to take a few pics of me given my pairing of BRIGHT TOXIC GREEN tights and lace trousers. I realised I hadn't set foot in the garden since this therapy thing started. My dog, Loki, was bouncing around like a loon bringing me every stashed ball he could find.

If anything gives you clarity, it's the excitement of a collie confronted with man balls, your partner's joy at you starting something you love again and actually feeling like a human being.

Ness is calling the therapy people when she gets the social confidence points required to deal with bombing me out of this whilst being my stalwart wall, so I don't get bullied onto the phone (hello, Hemiplegic Migraine) or guilted back into just trying a few more sessions.

It's not like my therapist was bad. He was cool. He dealt with this ADHD, Autistic, Severe Insomniac, Asexual weirdo and never once questioned any of these identifiers. I just don't have the energy to do anything back to back, week after week, at 10.30 am—even fun things.

So, I am probably going to sleep a lot. I am not back to my previous form yet; my Hubs is saying I made it out of the cave, but I still have Palladium Poisoning because apparently, I have infected his brain to think of things in Iron Man metaphors.

This is a bit all over, but I felt like I wanted to get it down. Especially for anyone worried about my sudden absence.

TLDR, the road to hell is lined with good intentions; sometimes the good thing becomes the bad thing, sometimes you lose yourself trying to do things the right way, and everything ends up wrong. Sometimes the right thing is the thing people see as wrong. All I know is that I wrote something for the first time this morning because of insomnia, and I couldn't be happier. My mind is starting to pick up speed again, this dense dog of confusion, exhaustion and pain is clearing, and I have goals.

Which I think is what really matters, right?

Oh, side note, some things did get done whilst I was busy being a zombie. After nearly 3 decades of waiting, at 33 (yeah, I've wanted to change my name a long ass time.) I got my name changed! So I can sign this off in a way that makes me smile. I dropped my old first name, and took my first middle name as my new forname. (I was, and still am, one of those ginormous name people.) I also went back in history and timestoned my surname. (So, I was named utterly after my dad. Literally, I have the female version of his name >.< but I wanted to keep that connection to my genealogy whilst not having my dads name.) Boom.

Enjoy the earlier mentioned pictures of me pratting about in the garden. I am a photographer. I do not know how to pose. What you are seeing is sarcasm 😅. (If you want to know where the fabulous tights came from, Google Snag Tights. They are truly a miracle and a gift from the Gods. They have actual sizes and don't tear after one wear, even if you are more leg than human. So you stretch and destroy tights by walking.)

- Morgan / M-Mac-C

[gumnut-logic]

The Cane (Part 4)

@flyboytracy​​​ asked:

Steampunk AU: five uses for a cane and one time Scott used it for its intended purpose 😘

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Aaargh, those migraines messed with my muse on this one. Had to fight it the entire way and the cane reference is tiny. Hope you enjoy it anyway ::hugs to all::

Many thanks to @janetm74​​​ @tsarinatorment​​​ and @scribbles97​​​ for all their help and amazing support of my crazy. And to @flyboytracy​​​ for asking in the first place.

This be Steampunk AU with a mix of John snark, a little bit of wee!Tracys in a little bit of peril, some selfless Scott, and a reason you don’t want to mess with Five or her pilot.

-o-o-o-

4.

“This is very inconvenient.”

Scott stared at his brother in the dim light. “Is that an attempt at impersonating Lady Penelope?”

John stared back, dust drifting haphazardly off his hard helmet and goggles. “As you’ve said many times yourself, there is no use in panicking.”

He had to give his brother that. A sigh and he assessed their situation yet again, shining his torch about the space they found themselves in.

They were in a basement. It was likely that they were lucky, as all indications were that if they had been in any other part of the building, they would not be having this conversation or any other any time in the future. The basement had a wall of solid bedrock on one side, the building having been constructed with that in mind with half the plumbing bolted into the rock. Unfortunately, the rest of the structure had been built on sand, which promptly liquified when the earthquake hit.

Speaking of earthquake. “How long do you think before the next aftershock?”

John pulled out his notebook, took a note of the time on the watch he had strapped to his wrist, and scribbled down some math. “They are very unpredictable, but I’m hoping this last big one will give us some time. Or at least, Virgil some time to dig us out.”

Scott fiddled with his transmitter unit. There was no response on any frequency he attempted. Either the equipment was broken or something was stopping the signal from reaching his brothers. John had already pulled his apart and attempted a signal boost with no success.

They were both covered in dust, but fortunately uninjured.

But, for the moment, they were stuck.

Scott was not very good at sitting still.

“We may as well rest so we can be ready when needed.”

Scott grunted.

His brother ignored him and wiped off a large chunk of masonry with one leather-gloved hand and sat down. “You know Virgil will find us.”

Another grunt.

“Sit down, Scott. You can afford to take a minute to rest.”

He let out a breath and bit his lip, but with a sigh, he did as his brother asked.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of dust and rock settling.

“Why did you come back in?” John’s voice was crisp, clear and calm.

“You were in here.” Obviously.

“But now both of us are trapped, whereas if you had run like you should have, you could be assisting Virgil to dig me out.”

Scott’s lips thinned. What had been his line of thinking? Had there been a line of thinking? To be honest, all he could recall was the thought that John was under a building that was about to collapse and he needed saving.

His voice was a little rough. “Virgil will get us out.”

“Hmm.” John was not looking at him.

“What did you expect me to do? Leave you here to die?”

Aquamarine turned calmly to catch his eyes. “Better than both of us.”

“We’re not dead.”

“Pure chance.”

John was always ever so direct.

“But important nonetheless.”

John sighed. “Reminds me of the well.”

Scott eyed him. “Really? You’re going to bring that up again?”

“Eternally, my dear brother.” John’s smirk was exceedingly annoying. “Besides, it passes the time.”

“I would rather spend time finding a way out of here.” Scott shot to his feet and began pacing around the space they were stuck in.

“If you disturb something that brings the rest of the building down on us, I’m haunting you until the end of time.”

Scott slumped a little. His brother was right. Messing with the fragile pile was just asking for trouble. They were lucky to have room to breathe, much less walk around.

“This is the reason why you ended up in the well, Scott. You haven’t changed in twenty odd years.”

Scott glared at him. His little brother had been six at the time, Scott only ten. The two of them had gone beyond the borders of the Tracy farm in Kansas and into land they shouldn’t have. They were exploring. John, as always, was a little more cautious, but Scott was ever running ahead.

It was rather ironic that it was John who fell in the well.

It wasn’t long dug, but the planks covering it were flimsy and the winds from the previous day had obscured them. John had gone through them as if the planet had eaten him.

“John!”

Scott found his little brother clutching his leg at the bottom of the hole.

It wasn’t a very deep well, but it was deep enough to put his brother out of the reach of a ten-year-old.

“Scotty, my leg hurts.”

“I’ll get you out.” He looked around for something to help John.

Perhaps he knew in some part of his mind that this could be the wrong decision. He had no rope and no real way to reach his little brother. He should get help.

But he couldn’t leave Johnny here on his own.

The thought was terrifying from both of their perspectives.

Perhaps he would have thought it a little less terrifying if he realised what could happen if he didn’t fetch help. Because once he found a long enough stick, he reached over the edge and while doing his best to add to the length John couldn’t quite reach, he fell in the hole on top of his brother.

There were groans and tears after that.

Scott didn’t hurt himself. John had been heard to comment on multiple occasions thereafter that it was because he landed on a cushion he called brother.

Scott countered that by saying he was lucky he hadn’t been impaled by a bony limb of said scrawny brother.

In any case, they huddled together for warmth for thirty-six freezing hours until someone finally found them.

By then, both brothers were dehydrated and starving.

The lecture from their father was almost as long as their time in the well.

Their mother, pregnant with Gordon at the time, took ill with the fright and there was some seriously scary time until the little fish was born a month later…a touch early.

Virgil wouldn’t let either of his brothers out of his sight for a good year after the incident. The nine-year-old obviously terrified they would disappear again.

It became legendary in the Tracy household for good or bad.

“So, you’re saying, I should have gone for help?”

Something clunked in the pile of rubble.

John arched an eyebrow. “As I said, you haven’t learnt. Yes, Scott, you should not have dashed back into the collapsing building. When Virgil finds out, he’s going to scalp you.”

“I’m sorry that my first instinct is to protect my brothers.”

John rolled his eyes, both original and artificial. “Your first instinct should be to protect yourself so you can protect your brothers.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Scott shifted his weight onto one foot, cocking his hip. “Fine. Then explain Bermuda.”

“That was different. That was saving lives.”

“You rammed a twenty-eight gunned frigate with Five!”

“It was firing on a sinking civilian target full of over two hundred passengers, including my four brothers. Grandma was not aboard. It was a fair decision.”

Scott had to admit it had been spectacular, the huge, blue-grey, manta-ray-shaped Five had reared out of the ocean and sliced the pirate vessel in half.

International Rescue had fished the survivors out of the water and there had been minimal casualties, considering.

Five had taken damage, but her cahelium superstructure was designed to withstand something as simple as a mostly wooden hull. Some gentle care from Virgil, an assessment from Hiram, and she was declared fit and well.

They had disappeared for a while after that as the rumours ran riot. Lady Penelope managed to smooth any ruffled feathers at government level.

Scott had both commended and roasted John alive.

“You could have been killed.”

“So could have you, and Virgil and Gordon and little Allie. Was I supposed to sit back and watch?”

Another clunk from somewhere in the rubble.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps, you know how I feel.”

“Of course, I know how you feel. We all do.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Scott-“

But John was interrupted by another clank, this time clearly from one of the pipes against the wall.

“Virgil?” They both said it at once and hurried over to the rock face.

The clunk repeated itself and then started on a very familiar dot dot dot…

S C O T T

He reached behind and pulled his folded cane out of its sleeve on his back. Its metal tip shone dull brass in the yellow light.

He only had to tap one letter. Dot dot dot dash.

V.

Three letters came back in a hurried jumble of excited hammering. F A B.

Then…S T A T U S?

J  A N D  S   W E L L  A N D  M O B I L E.

S T A N D  B A C K ?

F A B.

Assuming Virgil was referring to the rock wall as the point of origin, the two brothers stepped as far back from it as they could.

Moments later a rumble and hiss of gears, the crash of breaking masonry and daylight suddenly shot through part of the rubble. This was quickly followed by a massive but familiar brass claw reaching in and grabbing a large chunk of rock, disappearing with it. A crunch of gravel, shove of rock…a shout. “Scott, are you in here? John?” Their goggled and fully armour-suited brother pushed the rest of the way through the pile of broken building, both claws fully extended.

“Over here, Virgil.”

Their brother’s head turned in their direction and metal shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Something shifted in the rubble pile and Virgil reacted, his right claw slamming into the chunk of masonry threatening to fall. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Scott didn’t need to be told twice as the remains of the building creaked around them in warning. Grabbing John’s arm, he hustled his brother out through the gap past Virgil.

The engineer’s eyes on the both of them.

No doubt there would be a medical examination in their near future.

Shoving John gently ahead of him, Scott turned to keep an eye on Virgil.

His metal clad brother stepped back carefully, letting rock fall in his wake.

Then, as if the final domino had been tipped, the entire pile began collapsing in on itself.

Scott took a step towards Virgil only to have his arm yanked on from behind.

“Damnit, Scott protect yourself!” John dragged him through the remains of the rubble as a cloud of dust roared behind them.

“Virgil!” He dug his heels in, fighting John’s hold.

“He’s wearing his armour, Scott. You are not! Move!”

It went against everything. He had to protect his brothers first. But John was right. Neither of them was wearing enough protection. Virgil was.

He had to trust.

Trust that Virgil knew what he was doing.

When put in those terms the answer was simple. Of course, he trusted Virgil.

Perhaps it was fate he had issues with.

John dragged him clear of the building and the cloud of dust. Two, nestled on her landing struts, was a wonderful sight.

And then Gordon was grabbing at him. Alan was yelling his name and there were dusty hugs and clunking helmets.

But still the cloud…

“Virgil?”

As if summoned, his brother strode out of the haze, cogs whirring and pneumatic systems hissing, metal glinting in the sun. His goggled eyes searching until they latched onto his brothers.

Thank god.

A matter of strides and he enveloped his engineer brother in a hug, metal suit and all. “Thanks, Virg.”

His brother exhaled in a huff. “What on Earth were you thinking?” And so began the rant about worrying about a brother encased in metal when a building is falling when he wasn’t and could have been killed with a single rock. You idiot.

It went on for some time.

John smirked at him for the entire tirade.

-o-o-o-

Next

[mxargo]

some days

spencer reid

summary: spencer takes his time with a girl that he thinks may be it for him.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of past deaths, spence being in prison, age gap of ten years. honestly lmk if I forgot anything.

word count: 2475

most of this is from spencer's pov

○○○○

some days are better than others, some make it and some don't. that's just how life is now. people get hurt, good people.

bad things happen to good people. good people who decide to live their own lives fighting other peoples wars just so they don't get hurt.

they're total strangers so why do it? why do others let themselves feel great pain just to save someone they don't know?

if we started questioning the good and their good intentions, there wouldn't be any left. that's why we don't do it.

when new cases come around, we push the why in the back of our minds and focus on the how. how are we going to save these people in time? and what if we don't? how many bad endings can occur during these cases before we start questioning our own sanity?

that's where spencer was.

questioning his sanity.

after prison, everything was different. he wouldn't want to admit that because it was the truth. a truth he wasn't yet ready to face, especially not by himself.

he saw the world differently, things he used to be able to do before just faded away in a locked compartment he built for himself in the back of his mind.

the part of him he'd never want to open. why do we do this? what happens if someone takes away the important. the reason he'd believe kept him steady.

his mother.

she wasn't well. he knew that to be true, didn't mean he liked to admit that.

he would defend her world without a thought of his own, but that tasks he kept only for himself is what started to strip him of what he once was.

thirteen years ago, the once smaller man who was so innocent. the man who just joined the bau thinking that this, this is my way out.

his way out of his mothers world. he loved her no doubt, no one needed proof for that but he wanted his own.

that's what he that he was doing when he met maeve. only knowing her for his own redemption, his migraines.

he wanted her. he loved her but he couldn't admit it. he didn't want to. if he told her he loved her everything he once built for himself would be gone.

she was being hunted and he couldn't handle any more loss he was sure to happen, and when she did die, It was like a part of his soul broke apart and fell deep inside his locked box.

after gideon died, he thought he'd almost lost it. in a way, he was like a father to him after his own abandoned him.

in some ways more than most, some days are better than others, some make it and some don't.

after he got realised for prison early, he went straight back to work. that's just the kind of man spencer reid was. he wanted to continue to help others even though he clearly needed the same for himself.

so when emily decided to send him home, he was alone again, and he wasn't used to living in something bigger than a 6x6 cell.

but it didn't feel very much like a home anymore. he knows what it used to feel like, a warm place away from the harmful rays of the terrible people outside his green walls.

he couldn't stay here, at least not right now. so when he left his apartment walking around dc, he started to realize what he was losing. his sense of happiness, and he'd do anything to get it back.

maybe if he did his house would start to feel like a home again.

♡♡♡♡

sitting in a small cafe sipping on the same coffee he's had for the last hour he started resembling the coffee to himself, he loved coffee. it was one of his favorite things in the world, aside from books.

but as now, he couldn't finish it. on any other days he'd at least be on his fifth cup by now having read already a few of his books.

but he didn't have any with him now. just him and his now half empty cold cup of back coffee. since when did he stop putting sugar in his coffee? was it before or after prison? what changed?

when did the sweet and softness in his like go away?

it was all his could think about now, which was a good thing come in handy, since thinking about what was really bothering could have ended up with him causing a scene in the same cafe he's been going to for the last two years.

it was a bit far out from his apartment but there was a girl here. a girl he like to watch, not in the senseless creepy way but he liked to watch her.

he liked the way you laughed, the way you smiled as you passed along coffee to other people. he loved the way you'd hum soft melodies to yourself as youd clean coffee stains of the counters. he loved the way youd listen to him on his rambles and ask him questions as you made his coffee. and the first time he met you, he knew he couldn't walk away forever, but it was all by accident.

walking into a cafe, he was in a hurry. it wasn't the same one he'd been going to that was across the street from where he lived but it was close now to where he was and he needed energy.

as he waited in the small line inside the small building, he realized there was only one person working there.

a girl.

she smiled at the elderly woman who was complementing on the younger womans earrings.

"those are lovely, I would've loved to wear those and walk around like you when I was as young as you. so beautiful"

and after that she couldn't stop smiling, but by that time it was my turn and she was attempting to revive my attention after I'd zone out.

"oh I'm sorry"

"don't be, it's alright. what can I get for you?"

her voice was so sweet sounding, intoxicating, in the good way. she sounded almost angelic. the kind penelope liked to remind us are the best of this world, and now that I've heard it for myself, I couldn't wait to see her and thank her for it.

but as I waiting on the other side of the counter as she made my cup, I didn't like the silence. I wanted to hear her again and the only thing I could think of was the same thing I always do, rambling.

coffee facts, of course.

"did you know that coffee is originally from Yemen?"

she looked up a me and when her eyes met mind, my heart felt like it was going to crawl out of my chest and land in her hands.

"I didn't"

"yeah, coffee is consumed in such great quantities, it is the world's 2nd largest traded commodity, surpassed only by crude oil. It is our most beloved beverage after water. It's worth well over $100 billion worldwide"

"that's interesting, I don't know much about it I've only been working here for a couple months"

"why are you working here?"

"just extra cash, figured I could use it if I want to graduate college"

college. that word kind of hit me like a truck.

she must be what then, twenty-two? I felt almost weird trying to get her attention more.

"I just turned twenty-three a few weeks ago and having to work five years instead of four has been hard"

I didn't know what to say by then. ten years. ten. that's the distance between us and it felt dreadful.

he never did it. he never asked her out or poked around to see if she was every seeing someone.

he wasn't hers and a part of himself hated that. but what would his friends say if they knew he was with someone so much younger than him.

they wouldn't be very supportive. he didn't need that from his family, but this one girl. shes the only one that's been able to get under his skin since maeve. the only girl hes been able to admit that he had feelings for, and strong ones because if they weren't. he wouldn't be going out of his way to walk four blocks away from his apartment everyday to see this one girl. if his feelings weren't real he wouldn't spend his time sitting in the cafe from the time it opened till it closed on the days that he could.

he just liked seeing her. and they were friends, he didn't think they were. they didn't talk as much as he wished but when she told him that he was her best costumer he figured everyone else had heard the same. but when she told him that she'd probably quit if she didn't see him everyday, he couldn't believe that she had cared for him that much.

"refill?"

hm?

"what? oh hey y/n"

"hey"

she smiled at me and looked around the table sending me back a confused look.

"no books?"

"oh um no. I forgot to bring some"

"you forgot?, I thought your brain was all mighty, never forgetful. I remember when you told me that I also should tell you I remember all the little gifts youd leave me"

"wha-"

"what? you didn't think I'd know it was you? I've known since I found a copy of gaspty on my car. youre the only one I told I'd accidentally ruined my old one"

"yeah.."

"are you doing alright spence? you've been here only an hour and no books and only one cup of coffee which I'm sure is cold by now"

by now she sat across from me pleading those very same eyes I'd fallen for two years ago at me.

"just in a bit of a mess"

"I know that your job is super hectic but I haven't seen you in three months"

how could I tell her? would she look at me differently? would she leave me alone?

"just work stuff"

"oh. well whatever it is, I'm sorry and I'm here for you. you know that right?"

"of course"

she smiled at me grabbing the coffee pot and ruffling my hair as she walked away.

being in prison reminding me of how much I loved her. how much I'd miss the way she'd sit with me after hours reading books with me and listening to my ramblings. it took me a bit to admit that I love her, but when I did I'd made a promise to myself I wouldn't let her go, but I wouldn't let her get hurt either.

by the time the cafe started to empty and the clock hit 9pm I'd notice her walk up to me handing me a book.

"I figured you could use it."

"thanks"

when she sat by me she didn't too close, giving me space but not too far where I couldn't feel her next to me.

"what's going on with you spence? I'm really worried about you"

"it's just work"

"you serious?"

"yes"

"then why don't I believe you?"

"I just-

"you can trust me. I care about you spencer. you disappeared for months and I just- I was worried something bad happened to you. at one point I thought you mightve-

died? I couldn't do that to her.

"no. no, I'm okay. sorta I guess. about a week ago I was realised from prison, I was framed for uh- murder"

that was the first time she bad been made speechless. she didn't say anything. she didn't look angry, or upset. just sad.

"I'm really sorry. why didn't- god I should've-

"should've what? there wasn't anything you could've done"

"I could have been there for you. I just- I feel like I should've been there thats all. your not alone, are you?"

sitting back, resting my head against the back of the booth meeting her eyes, I realised if I'd told her how I felt, i couldn't have anything else to lose.

"I have you"

she looked in my eyes for what I'm guessing is the answer to her confusion.

"what?"

"I have you. you're here. you always have been, and I'm grateful for it. I really am. i- I didn't know how to tell you before but I care for you. in ways I probably shouldn't. I don't know of this would work or not but if there is even a 1% chance there would I'm willing to take it. I love you y/n, I always have. since I met you. y'know I didn't normally go to this cafe. I live four blocks away from here. I came here on convenience and after I met you i couldn't stay away."

"I'm glad you didn't"

grabbing her hand, she didn't pull away.

"me too"

she pulled herself closer to me letting her head rest on my chest.

"you're such a good person. I hope you believe that. some days are better than others, some make it and some don't. i really want you to make it, and if youd let me, I'd really like to be here and help you with it, because I love you too and I like seeing you happy. I'm sorry for what happened to you, I know it wasn't your fault. I hope you understand that."

"I do now, thank you hon"

I could feel her smile again the thickness of my coat, I guess she just had that ability. and when she leaned up to kiss my cheek, I had pulled away.

"oh, I'm sor-

and when I kissed her. I stopped feeling guilty about how other people might feel about us. I stopped worrying about the fact that maybe one day, this might all blow over, but if it did, at least I'd known I'd done something about my feelings instead of wallowing in regret of what could've been.

derek once said that penelope was his god given solace, and the only thing I ever wanted was to find mine.

to be honest I believe I did.

I have her now, and hopefully it doesn't ever end. another reason to keep me steady other than my mother, and being hopeful for the both of us in whatever this will be wouldn't hurt.

she makes me feel things, things I've never felt before. I used to hate it, I used to want to make her take it away but now, it's all I cant think about and I don't believe i could ever let it go.

spencer reid finally found the one piece of his soul and he let y/n gracefully put it back into place.

[elletromil]

And here’s the last prompt for @unexpected-nightview :D It is a sequel to this prompt  because well, why not :3

6. chasing someone’s lips after they pull away

“Oh lieutenant, I could kiss you!”

“What’s stopping you?” Rishan shoots back cheekily and Tiezui’s self-control cracks until he has Rishan pushed into a secluded alley, his back flush against the wall.

And usually, it would have taken so much more for Tiezui to go back on the promise he’s made himself to take things slow with Rishan. But he’s only a man and Zhang Rishan appears to be a temptation that has been tailor-made just for him.

Rishan isn’t innocent, far from it. But there’s a sweetness to the trust he has in Tiezui that is simply intoxicating. Rishan is far stronger than he is, undeniably deadlier. And yet, Tiezui is fully aware that he could break the lieutenant if he ever had the inclination.

Which he doesn’t.

Quite the opposite really.

He only wants to protect him. Wants to be the one Rishan associates with safety, the one he seeks when he needs someone else to be in charge.

He wants to care for him like the man so clearly deserves and have him accept it with no hesitation.

He never expected Rishan to be so receptive to his desires. Especially not the darker ones that urge Tiezui to possess, to mark, to claim.

But he is and Tiezui will do everything in his power to never make Rishan regret trusting him with this.

Except for the firm hold Tiezui has on his wrists to keep him in place, they aren’t touching. But they are standing close enough that he can see just how dazed Rishan’s expression is.

Not in a bad way though. Far from it in fact, if Tiezui is to believe the flush on his cheeks and the fast pulse under his thumbs.

Tiezui has recovered enough of his wits by now that he is no longer in danger of breaking his promise. He can step back. He will step back, so that Rishan knows that in this, Tiezui is the one calling the shots.

Of course, the second he’s about to let go of Rishan’s wrists, is also the exact same moment Rishan chooses to just go completely boneless in his hold. Tiezui is certain that if it wasn’t for him and the wall, Rishan would have simply slumped down on the ground.

But that is only a small part of what is currently trying Tiezui’s control.

Rishan has also closed his eyes, his lips slightly parted, neck arched to display the spot Tiezui had bitten a couple of weeks ago.

There’s no mark, obviously, considering he had been careful not to leave any at the time. It’s the clear invitation it represents, the near-unconscious act of submission, that leaves Tiezui weak-kneed.

He wonders briefly what he could have done in past lives to deserve the gift of Rishan’s trust. And if he can accomplish it again so he’s sure to never lose it.

Then, he lets go of one wrist in favor of cupping Rishan’s cheek instead, takes a step closer so that their chest press together at every inhale and finally, finally kisses Rishan like he’s imagined doing so many times.

It starts soft and slow, because Rishan is to be cherished. So many aspects of his life are rough already. Tiezui has nothing against mixing a bit of pain in his pleasure and judging from how he reacted to the bite a few weeks ago, neither does Rishan. But Tiezui wants to make it very clear that he intends to become first and foremost a balm for the harshness in their lives.

It goes on for a while, Rishan all but melting into the contact, letting Tiezui lead the kiss where he wants to take it.

It’s easy to deepen the kiss. Rishan opens up to him with a moan and Tiezui could spend hours devouring him, but he’s brought back to himself when Rishan’s free hand raises to grip at his shoulder, trying to drag him closer.

With a parting bite to Rishan’s lower lip, Tiezui breaks the kiss and steps back, shaking out of the hold on his shoulder, Rishan’s hand falling limply at his side.

Rishan whines in disappointment, blindly chasing after him, but stops moving as soon as Tiezui’s hand slides from his cheek to come rest against his throat. Whatever tension had started building up in Rishan’s body dissipates again at once. Tiezui gives a light squeeze in experimentation, not even enough to hinder his breathing and has to use every ounce of his control not to react at the pleased little whimper the action elicits from Rishan.

He centers himself for a second before letting go of both Rishan’s wrist and throat. He’s already done more than he should have and if he’s quickly coming to realise that he was a fool for thinking he could take things slow, here and now is neither the place nor the time to act on the revelation.

He waits until Rishan opens his eyes again and it’s nearly a mistake. It’s hard to stay away when Rishan looks at him with such open trust and obvious yearning all the while not moving from where Tiezui has left him. The impulse to reward him for his wordless obedience with another kiss is strong, but somehow Tiezui resists it.

“You’re dining with me tonight.” It’s not quite an order, but it’s not merely an invitation either. Rishan nods eagerly anyway. “You should bring a change of clothes,” he adds after some inner deliberations.

Even if it’s only to sleep, they’ll share his bed tonight. Not that Tiezui has any delusions that they’ll keep their hands to themselves as soon as they’re behind closed doors. He’s ready to deny himself pleasure, but he’s realising that he can’t possibly do the same to Rishan.

He might not be aware of it, but Rishan has just as much power over Tiezui as Tiezui as over him.

“I will,” Rishan agrees, still sounding somewhat breathless. Tiezui can’t wait to hear how he sounds when he’s being completely wrecked with pleasure.

“I’ll see you later.” He turns and leaves the alley before he loses the last shred of his control.

He’s pretty sure they wouldn’t get in any real trouble if they were caught, but it’s best to avoid Fo Ye’s the migraine of dealing with such an incident.

The sacrifices he makes for his friend really. Fo Ye has no idea how grateful he should be.

[script-nef]

Fluff alphabets | Tsukishima Kei

Others:  Hinata, Kageyama, Oikawa

Category: fluff

Affection: How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?

Tsukishima isn’t all that affectionate, but tries to make sure you know he loves you. 

Like helping you with studies or buying you books which you commented on before. It shows he pays attention to everything you’ve said, even in passing.

From a salty and seemingly uncaring boy, that’s one of the best things you can ask for.

Baby: Does he want to start a family?

Have you seen this guy? He’s the type to despise babies and claim they’re nothing but crying and whining migraine producers. 

If you absolutely want to have them, then he’s going to have a long talk with you. He doesn’t think he’ll be the best dad due to his personality but is willing to try if you’re absolutely adamant on the idea of kids.

Only one though. He really doesn’t think he can take more than that.

Cuddles: Does he like cuddling? How often does he like hugging?

If you ask for one, he’ll definitely hug you but not without blushing. He’s not very used to physical contact with others but slowly learns them with you.

Most of his hugs are him just towering over you and pulling you into his embrace. He’ll hug you whenever you’re feeling down or lonely, as if to say “I’m here for you.” Tsukishima may not seem like it, but he’s pretty attentive of your moods and conditions.

Date: What is a typical date?

You both love learning things, so dates are usually to informative places like museums, aquariums and art galleries. You would sometimes act as a curator and explain things in your specialty to him while he does the same.

You also go around quizzing each other on random exhibits like “what era do you think that was made?” and the person with the lower score after hours of walking around has to pay for lunch.

Experience: How much has he dated before? How does that reflect in this one?

He’s had plenty of confessions before but you’re the first one he accepted. It was a drunken confession after being friends for a year but his brain was clear enough to accept. 

He’s not experienced and that added to his default personality, he had a lot to learn. Communication is key in a relationship and he also searches up what kinds of things a boyfriend should do. 

You laughed when you found out he does that but it’s honestly very cute and adorable.

Fight: Do you fight often with him? How does it usually end?

Fights are common and incredibly messy. Lots of shouting and structured arguments from both sides because you’re both smart as hell and you gotta put those debate skills somewhere.

It ends once you both calm down and have a clear head. 

Once you got heated up and yelled so much that your vocal cords got damaged and spat out a tiny bit of blood. Which made him stop immediately and run to the kitchen to get you some warm tea and then apologised.

Gentle: How does he treat you?

Verbally? Tsukishima is scathing. No sugarcoats, this boy is salt incarnate with a tongue sharp enough to cut through Wall Maria. You, of course, are the same. In university, everyone called you two “that fighting couple” because you guys were constantly bantering.

Of course, he treats you well because he drinks his ‘respect you lover’ juice. It’s hidden under a couple of mountains of salt, but this boy cares about you the most and constantly worries about you.

Hand: Does he like holding your hand? How often?

He often holds your hand outside so that he knows you’re not wandering off. He also likes comparing his hand size to yours and teases you saying “you’re so tiny” as if he wasn’t a 190cm titan.

He also holds your hand during movies, especially scary ones, to help you calm down and not be frightened so much. It sometimes turns into a competition to see who has a stronger grip which alleviates some of the tension.

Impression: What was your first impression of him?

Absolutely terrible. This was expected with his aloof personality and sharp remarks. You took a history class together in university.

You had to work together for a project and wow, things got off to a rough start. He was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Of course, you didn’t back down and spat back insults as well. So shit went sideways real quick.

Your initial impression got better as you worked together but you still bring it up to this day. It makes him feel guilty but you laugh it off and say “who would have guessed we would go out?”

Jealousy: Does he get jealous easily? What sets him off?

A lot of other people ask you out because they either don’t know you’re dating him or doesn’t believe it. He had a reputation during university for being incredibly smart but also rude. They just can’t believe you’d go out with him.

But he doesn’t get jealous because:

1. You’re not his possession and can hang out with anyone you want

2. You’re dating and love him. Other people can love you but he’s the one with you at the end of the day, so who cares.

Kiss: Is he good at kissing? When does he kiss you?

Tsukishima is not fond of deep kisses because he doesn’t find the idea of exchanging saliva that attractive. However, he’s fine with any other ones. 

He especially likes forehead and top-of-the-head kisses. It’s the easiest physically and comforts him as well.

Love: Who said “I love you” first? And when does he say it?

He said it first, half-awake. It was your weekly movie night and he was so tired from all the assignments and projects that he drifted off to sleep during the movie. It was near the end so you waited until the ending credits rolled.

Thankfully you were watching it in bed, otherwise you’d have to wake him up because you can’t carry him to bed. So you shifted him a bit to lay him down but he woke up from your movements.

He was super disorientated but the second he saw your face, he mumbled “love you…” then went straight back to sleep. He doesn’t remember it though. 

When you told him about it, he refused to acknowledge it happened.

Memory: What’s his favourite memory with you?

When he came back home to see you sing his favourite song in the living room. It was his favourite song since childhood and brings up a lot of memories.

He put it on a lot and you like it too. He knows you don’t like singing in front of other people, but the fact that you’re singing it with ease and hitting every note perfectly reminds him how much time you spent together. 

You blushed when you realised he came in but he just sat down next to you and said “keep singing, it’s good.” He smiles every time he hears it now because it reminds him of that time.

Nickname: Does he give you a nickname? Do you have one for him?

If you don’t reach his height, he calls you a midget. You could literally be 0.5, no wait, 0.1 cm shorter than him and he’d still taunt you with it while laughing. (You, shaking your fist: “This bitch…”)

In retaliation, call him beanpole or sequoia with a scowl. It doesn’t really affect him and he’ll be like “Oh, so you do know how tall I am compared to you.” But he loves it if you’re smaller than him because you fit into his embrace easily, and it feels like he’s protecting you.

(I also have this dream of calling my s/o “Tsuki” as in the moon which means “I love you”, from Natsume Souseki’s translation.)

Open: How open is he about his feelings?

Not really. He wouldn’t profess his love for you like Hinata (“Do I look like that single brain-celled volleyball maniac?”) but neither would he be completely silent on it. 

He won’t say it out of the blue, totally unprompted, but once he’s comfortable and relaxed with you, it would slip out. Mostly in the form of a whisper, just so only you can hear his words.

PDA: Is he fine with PDA? How far can he go?

He doesn’t really like it but will, reluctantly, participate if you want to. His limit is just hand-holding, though. Hugs are once-in-a-blue-moon surprises in public. 

He once had to live through the embarrassment of Hinata shrieking and gaining attention when you kissed him which ruined the entire PDA thing. His glare to the orange boy would have flayed him alive if you didn’t step in.

Quirk: Habits or something he does which is unexpected?

Is a history buff, but not one of those war ones. More like the ‘Age of the Dinosaurs’ ones. It’s obvious that he likes them but it’s to the point where he can literally recite facts about any of them. It gets more and more intense since he works at a museum now.

Whenever he finds a new fact or anecdote, he sends them to you so you can “become educated”. If you find some, text it over to him and he’ll say “thanks”.

Relax: What activities do you do with him to relax?

Baking. Strawberry shortcake, to be exact. 

You made one for him when he told you that it was his favourite but it ended horribly because he said it tasted terrible. Even though others said it was fine.

So after that, he always insists on baking with you to “keep an eye on you” and gives you constant feedback (read: instructions and naggings). But it’s worth it in the end because the product is his happy smile.

(You later find out he only said it was terrible to make an excuse to spend more time with you, but in his Tsukishima version.)

Support: How supportive is he of your dreams? What do you do for him?

He would, of course, be 100% supportive of anything you’re thriving for. But he’s different to others in the sense that he’s more grounded and realistic, so that’s the type of advice he’ll give you.

If he sees you’re getting stressed or strained over a project or anything like that, he’ll ask you if it’s really worth it and propose the idea of just leaving it. He doesn’t like seeing you push yourself so far.

You come a lot to the museum because it has a café with an amazing hot chocolate. He comes in between his breaks and has a snack while you talk to him about the displays. He helps to set up a lot of it so you always say “It looked amazing!” and it cheers him up every time.

Talk: What does he like talking about?

Tsukishima is a man of few words, but he loves talking to you. He says it’s because you’re not annoyingly ignorant (*cough* Kagehina *cough*) and he can hold an intelligent conversation.

Talks range from what you did today to societal concerns to what you learnt today. He likes seeing you become passionate about the problems you have or calmly recount all the mishaps you went through that day. You always seem to have an action-packed life.

Umbrella: What’s his favourite weather/season?

Ones of those incredibly cloudy and grey days, possibly raining slightly. He likes studying to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the house.

He also likes it because it means he can share an umbrella with you on the way home. He purposely bought one with a large span so you can walk home together with no shoulders getting soaked.

Vaunt: Does he like showing you off?

Nope. He never feels the need to flaunt you off to others because he doesn't see the need for it. It’s not like showing you off to others means he cares more about you or anything like that.

He feels more comfortable knowing your little habits and lifestyle to himself, because it reminds him that he knows you more than anyone else.

World: Where does he take you for vacation?

Somewhere close by, a place where he knows the geography well and also knows you’re going to like. Tsukishima doesn’t like going to foriegn places because of language barriers and mishaps which might not end well.

In the first place, he doesn’t like moving all that much so his ideal vacation will be something like a rented cabin and not backpacking around. If you want to do something physical, he would research all about it and think of every possibility which might happen.

X-ray: What happens when you’re injured or sick?

Immediate response is a snarky remark on how you should have taken care of your body. The entire time he’s nursing you, it never stops. Sometimes you snap and tell him to get out, but he never does. 

When he gets hurt, he won’t call for you, claiming that he’s fine and that it’s not life-threatening. Yamaguchi will probably text you about it along with “I didn’t say this to you! Keep it a secret!”

So you sneak into his house and make some warm porridge or chicken soup. He says he hates being coddled but in reality, he loves it.

Yearn: How much does he miss/pine for you when apart?

He does miss you, but not all that much. And won’t admit it either, he’s too much of a tsundere for that. 

Tsukishima doesn’t understand why couples cry as they have to leave to another city or country when it’s only for a short amount of time. He’s going to come back soon and he knows that your love for him and his love for you won’t disappear in that short span of time.

ZZZ: Does he have sleeping habits?

Always has to put on some type of music when falling asleep. Of course, it’s usually quiet classical or lo-fi songs and even then, the volume is turned way down. 

It basically serves as BGM while he mumbles to you about his teammates and museum works. And you reply with bits of your day as well.

For some reason, your voice works better as a lullaby than any music.

[talatomaz]

start again | team legends x fem!reader

a/n: this takes place during ‘helen hunt’. i really had no clue where I was going with this

warnings: none

word count: 2.8k

masterlist | request list | request rules

reader was like any of us. someone who loved legends of tomorrow. but one day, she falls asleep watching the beloved show and finds herself in the show itself

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Attention, Legends. Captain Lance requests that all personnel report to the bridge immediately.”

You groaned as your body began to wake up. Great, you must have fallen asleep watching Legends of Tomorrow again. You instinctively reached out for the tv remote on your nightstand but came up empty.

You shot up, eyes wide with alarm as you looked around in confusion and realised that you weren’t in your room.

You were on the Waverider!

You lightly slapped yourself thinking you must still be dreaming but then you jumped when you heard knocking at the door.

“Y/N, get up! Sara wants us!”

You stilled at the familiar voice and looked at the door in shock. Zari?! You’re definitely dreaming.

“Miss L/N, Captain Lance is requesting your presence.”

You looked up as if trying to locate Gideon. This was unbelievable. You got up out of your bed and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Your hands shook with excitement as you buttoned your jeans, but your mind still swam with confusion and disbelief.

This was everything you had ever wanted.

After putting on your shoes, you ran out of the room and to the bridge where the rest of the Legends, bar Ray, Jax and Stein, were stood waiting.

“What took you so long, y/n?”

Your mouth dropped as you realised that the Sara Lance was talking to you. Just as you were about to answer, all of your heads turned when Jax, Professor Stein and Ray walked into the room.

Wait, was this the Helen of Troy episode?

“I guess we know where the explosion came from.”

Yep, definitely was.

You stayed silent as Jax and Stein began arguing causing everyone to look at them. They were confused as their vernacular appeared to have been switched.

After Ray interrupted them and referred to the incident as a ‘Freaky Friday’ situation, Nate burst out laughing.

Sara then hit him so he could start to explain the reason for you all being summoned. Of course you already knew, it was due to an anachronism. It was, um, Helen...Helen of Troy. Right?

You shook your head in confusion as if trying to sort your thoughts. Wait, what was happening?

You listened as Sara discussed the team’s reconnaissance mission for when you landed in Hollywood.

As she spoke, your memories started to form again resulting in you frowning.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You glanced up to look at the Captain who now appeared to be the only one left in the room; everyone having left to get changed.

“Yeah, um. I-I think I’m going to sit this recon out.” You said, trying to formulate an excuse.

Sara moved closer to you and placing her hand on your shoulder, she spoke, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her blue eyes were piercing and you found yourself almost willing yourself to tell her the truth but you knew she wouldn’t understand.

Pushing your words aside, you nodded and cleared your throat, “Of course, Captain. I just think I should keep an eye on Firestorm considering their current predicament.”

You watched as the blonde gave you a once-over before nodding in agreement, having believed your excuse.

“That sounds like a good idea. Just stay on comms.”

***

Whilst the rest of the team set out to complete their mission, you made your way to the med bay.

After several misdirections and wrong turnings, you finally found the correct room. This ship was like a maze. Nothing like what you saw on TV.

You sat in one of the chairs and lay your head back.

“Is everything alright, Miss L/N?”

Opening your eyes, you stared up at the ceiling as if expecting the AI to be there.

“Gideon, can you do a cranial scan please?“

The sounds of machinery whirring filled your ears as Gideon conducted her scan but ultimately came up with nothing to explain your short-term memory loss.

You desperately tried to grasp at your thoughts to try and remember what happened in this episode but seemed to fall short.

The best you could guess was that the longer you stayed here, the harder time you would have remembering the events of each episode that you had watched. And yet, you still had no idea how you were even here.

“Gideon.” You called out to the super computer.

“Yes, Miss L/N?”

“Can you just keep this between us for the time being? I promise I’ll explain everything to Sara later.”

“As you wish.”

“Y/N?”

Your head turned to the doorway where the Captain stood, staring at you with concern.

“You’re not okay, I knew it.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you went with the rest of the team?”

“I decided to stay. It was only recon anyway. Why are you in the med bay? Did you get injured when we were back in London? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. I-”

You ran through your mind trying to think up another excuse before deciding to use one of the problems you had back in the real world.

“I just have a really bad migraine so I had Gideon give me some medication.”

“Gideon?”

Sara asked the AI for confirmation and you closed your eyes, hoping the former would stay true to her word.

“I have administered pain relief that will take effect immediately, Captain Lance.”

You let out a breath of relief and hopped off the chair, “See, I told you. Come on, the team’s probably back.”

Sara followed you to the bridge where Nate, Zari and Amaya stood, dressed to the nines in Hollywood get-up. Nate then gave you all a history lesson on Helen of Troy which then ended up in Jax-No, wait-Stein ranting about the historical figure ruining all the classic films.

“What’s ‘Casablanca’ without Ingrid Bergman? The ‘Philadelphia Story’ without Katherine Hepburn?”

“Or ‘White Cargo’ without Hedy LaMarr.” You added, making everyone’s gazes fall upon you.

“Exactly, Miss L/N here understands that this is inconceivable. And now this upstart steals the career-making role of Hedy LaMarr; my boyhood crush.” Jax aka Stein finished.

“Since when do you watch old films, y/n?” Zari whispered to you.

“Since always.” You replied.

Back in your world, you loved noirs. Whilst many were misogynistic in nature, they still had a way of telling a story that movies nowadays had difficulty capturing.

“Everybody go put your best digs on because we are going to save Hollywood.” Sara said after Gideon announced that K&G pictures were hosting a Gala in honour of their latest star.

***

“I hate stockings.” You murmured, pulling the undergarments up as they persisted in falling down.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” Zari said, looking at you in surprise.

“Great minds think alike, Z.” You winked at the totem bearer as you refocused on the boys comments on Helen.

“Guys, snap out of it. We’ve got a job to do.”

Sara chastised, pressing a finger to her ear. She then signalled for Zari to use her totem to spill Helen’s drink.

When she successfully did so, Zari and Sara followed her whilst you and Amaya remained behind.

“Are you okay, y/n? You’ve been acting rather odd lately.” The JSA member asked.

“Do you ever just feel completely out of place? Like you’re in a place where you shouldn’t be?”

“Of course. I mean, look at me. I’m supposed to be back home at Zambesi, blissfully unaware of the impending danger but yet, here I am, trying to fix time. But we can’t help where we are now. Our choices led us to this moment and all we can do is follow where they take us.”

“I guess you’re right.” You replied softly, her words having put things in perspective for you.

“Look, she’s back.” Amaya nudged you and you both watched as the woman approached a man and began conversing with him.

Your brows frowned as you tried to allocate the familiar face.

“Wait, is that-”

“Damien Darhk.”

As the name fell from your lips, a feeling of dread filled your stomach as a genuine migraine started to form. He was important. He was going to cause something very bad to happen whilst you were here but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Pushing your frustration aside, you helplessly watched as Sara told you all to stand down so she could speak with the villain. Then your frustration was overtaken by anger when the boys started to fight with other guests at the Gala.

Your eyes fell to your arm where a hand was gripping you tightly. You looked up to find some man dressed in a suit and you stomped on his foot and swivelled round to face him. Lifting your dress, you kicked him and then punched him before swinging him over your shoulder and onto the floor.

Woah, since when did you know how to fight?

You didn’t have time to think when another man charged for you resulting in you knocking him out too. You then joined Amaya and Zari, running up to the boys so you could break up their fight and drag them back to the Waverider.

***

After Sara reprimanded and sidelined the male members of the team, you joined her and the rest of the women in your new attempt to get the starlet on the ship.

You used a Trojan Horse to gain entry to the secured residence where you quickly found Helen of Troy. A fight then ensued between the two film industries so you had to put your skills to the test again in order for you all to escape.

When you safely arrived back on the ship, Jax and Stein advised that key parts of the time vessel were vanishing. You correctly remembered that this was due to a wrench having been thrown in Hedy LeMarr’s career, so to speak. This resulted in Jax aka Stein to find her so he could convince her to begin her technological advancements.

When he left, Sara started to discuss Darhk again and you winced as the pain returned to your head, catching you off guard, dread rising up in you once more.

“Y/N?” Sara, Ray and Stein-Jax-called out in concern.

“I-I’m fine. This migraine is just-Ah!”

You recoiled again as the pain spread throughout your body. This was increasingly worse than the ones you had back in the real world.

“Okay, you’re sitting out the rest of this mission. Ray?”

Sara ordered and you felt yourself being lifted off the ground as the hero gathered you in his arms, carrying you bridal-style.

When he reached your quarters, he gently lay you down and tenderly kissed your forehead, in a brotherly manner. Sara had followed him and when he left, she sat beside you as you gripped your head to try to relieve the pressure.

“What is going on with you, y/n?” Sara asked softly but you could hear the fear in her voice.

“Sara!”

The shout had you both turning to face the doorway where Jax appeared in Professor Stein’s body.

“Grey’s scared to death, I can feel him.”

“Darhk must have found him. We’re going in. You are staying here.”

Sara carefully pushed you back down on the bed when you got up in an attempt to help them.

As she was about to leave, you abruptly grabbed her wrist resulting in her head facing you in alarm.

“Sara, I-I have to tell you something. It’s about-about Darhk. God, he-he. I can’t remember.” You panicked, trying to wrack your mind so you could force the memories to appear.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re gonna be fine but you need to stay-”

“No! Sara, I’m not supposed to be here. This isn’t even real. This is a bad time to tell you but I’m not from here. I come from a place where this-this is all a TV show. I fell asleep watching it and next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

You watched as her brows furrowed in confusion,

“Y/N, I have to go but when I come back, I’m going to have Gideon run checks on you because this migraine seems to be interfering with your memory.”

You groaned in frustration when Sara ran out of the room, ignoring your shouts.

Minutes passed, but it felt like hours, as you exerted yourself trying to remember the events that would occur. In an effort to calm yourself, you steadied your breathing and ran through the things that had already taken effect, hoping that the rest of the pieces would fall into place.

You listed off each occurrence until you stopped when you remembered Sara having a discussion with Darhk. It all came back to him. He seemed to be the cause of your pain. Your eyes glanced down to your hands and when Zari entered your room to check on you, you focused on her totem.

Eyes widening in realisation, you jumped out of the bed, much to the dismay of the female.

“Y/N, you have to stay in bed.”

“No, Z. I have to go.”

“They don’t need any of our powers right now, least of all yours. You’ll just make yourself worse.”

You barely had time to process her words as the dread came rushing back.

“Zari, Sara is in danger. I need to go or we might lose her. Also, Kuasa is coming here so be careful.”

Not listening to her objections, you warned and then pushed past her, running out of the ship so you could find the rest of the team.

***

Arriving on the film set, you followed the sounds of swords clanging together and found yourself staring in shock as the events unfolded in front of you.

Nate had steeled up, Ray was suited up and Firestorm had just merged. More importantly, Sara was duelling with Damien Darhk, swords extended, and you saw Nora Darhk approach the Canary as Damien Darhk watched in admiration.

“No!”

You screamed, running towards the trio, when unexpectedly, Nora was flung from behind Sara and forward into her father’s arms.

Approaching Sara, you looked down at your hands. Had you done that?

You stared up at the father-daughter duo and only had a second to register the looks in their eyes before raising your hands and hurling them in the air and into some boxes behind them. You all watched as they disappeared with their time stone, and when they did, your attention reverted back to Sara.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, how did you know she was going to do that?”

“That’s Nora Darhk. Damien’s daughter.”

“How do you know that?”

“Sara, I told you. I’m not from around here. Now I have a question. Where the fuck did these powers come from?”

***

You and the rest of the team were stood in the bridge, the majority of them sitting on the steps whilst you and Sara leaned against the technology upholstered in the centre of the room.

After the Darhk’s departure, you revealed to the team who you actually were whilst also finding out that your powers originated from the Particle Accelerator explosion back in 2013.

It took some convincing but the team finally believed where you came from, with a little help from Team Flash who reiterated the existence of other Earths where realities were different.

Despite that fact though, Cisco and the others were unable to locate your Earth meaning you had nowhere to go.

“I can leave if you want. You all know this version of me but not me and maybe it’s better for everyone if I go back home.”

“Y/N, you are home. You are a part of this family regardless of how you came here. If you want to leave, I can’t stop you but I really wish you wouldn’t.”

With Sara’s words ringing in your head, you stared at each team member and then returned your focus back to the Captain.

Thinking back to when you first woke up here, a couple of days prior, you remembered your one overriding thought and that seemed to make your decision for you.

“I’ll stay.”

And with those two words, everyone beamed and clapped, extremely happy and relieved with your decision. Nate then ran up to you and lifted you in his arms as he hugged you causing everyone to join in and you all ended up in a pile on the floor, laughing until your chests hurt. Except Mick, of course; he was still drinking his beer.

But this was everything you had ever wanted.

To get away from your life and be thrust into a world like this.

To start again.

[idyllicstarker]

Idea: Starker Tattoos

Heya.. so umm, this ask was made, a long time ago. But I actually did finally do it! I know it isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it is what came from it, so I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: Slightly fem!peter, daddy kink, one mention of the word homophobia, light smut, foul language

| Part two

“It’s just a tattoo, I don’t see what your problem is!” 

The frustration in Peter’s tone was evidently getting stronger, his pitch increasing the longer this conversation went on, because for the life of him he couldn’t understand why Tony wouldn’t just let him get it. The longer he argued the more worked up he was getting. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument after all, and Peter was at his last straw by now. 

“Well, answer me then, what’s your problem?”, he repeated, his tone firm, but increasingly strained, choked up from the emotion. Peter could never fight with Tony without getting emotional. No matter how angry he was, he could not physically argue with him without tears appearing. He hated it, because he hated seeming weak when he was trying to be strong. The nature of their relationship already meant that Tony barely took him seriously when he was trying to be authoritative; to Tony he was being nothing more than a bratty baby. But Peter wasn’t, he was genuinely 

“I don’t have a problem with you getting a tattoo Peter. I just..”

Tony trailed off, letting out a sigh. He was tired, today had been a long day. He’d got through seven clients, which may not seem like a lot, but each tattoo had intricate detail, colour, and perfection. It had been a long day of concentrating, and he just wanted to rest his eyes. His migraine wasn’t helping at all, and as he learnt against the counter in his tattoo shop he found his eyes closing without his control. 

As Peter watched with narrowed eyes, he scoffed, and shook his head. “You’re infuriating”, he muttered quietly to himself, turning around to grab his jacket from the communal hooks in the store. It was a small pink leather jacket, the lapel in which was dazzled with sparkling diamonds. It matched the pink thigh highs he was sporting, his white body-con dress revealing his milky thighs. When Peter had bounced into the store as the day was ending, Tony couldn’t help but lick his lips, ready to bend Peter over this very counter and fuck him right then and there. But he had to wait until Bucky (his employee and friend) to leave, and by the time he did, Tony managed to muster the self control to wait until they were back home at least. But he knew he was getting nothing tonight after this disagreement. 

“Baby, come on now, where are you going? Let me just lock up and we can leave”, Tony begged, just wanting this conversation to be over. Even if he ended up not getting laid tonight, he at least wanted to curl up in their bed (or at this point maybe he’d be sleeping on the couch) knowing that Peter was safe inside their shared walls. And if he was lucky, with a little bit of coaxing and pampering, a warm bath with bubbles, and some of that cheap red wine he’d bought the other day, he’d be buried inside Peter’s walls. 

Slowly approaching the smaller male, he pressed up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He was gentle enough to not hurt him, but firm enough so that Peter couldn’t squirm away like he tried to do. 

“Get off me, you’ve pissed me off enough today, I’m going to Ned’s”, he hissed, which Tony only groaned at. His warm breath tickled the side of Peter’s neck, a shiver rolling over his body as his hairs stood up, the boy letting out a submissive whimper. 

The sound made Tony smirk - already the boy was melting and it had barely taken any work.

“I’m sure Ned  can’t take care of you like daddy can”, he growled huskily against his ear. He knew the boy top to bottom, knowing exactly what to do to make him weak. And like suspected, Peter was already leaning back against him for support. All it took was one rough push of Tony’s crotch against his ass, to have the boy letting out a moan. 

“Fine, but I want a bath”, he grumbled, his cheeks pink with embarrassment knowing he’d given up way too easily. But he couldn’t exactly show up to Ned’s with the front of his dress straining against his prominent bulge.

Tony chuckled softly against his neck, his tongue slipping from his lips to lick over the warm skin slowly. He licked all the way up to his ear, letting out a soft moan once he reached it, as if Peter was the most delicious snack he’d ever had the opportunity to excite his tongue. In which, he pretty much was. “I knew I’d get through to you eventually”, he hummed, not in a particularly malicious or teasing tone. Just a simple matter of fact tone. He was quite proud of himself in a way, how easy it had been. And it confirmed that Peter wasn’t all that mad, a good thing considering Tony was sick of this conversation. 

“Come on now baby, why don’t you go wait in daddy’s car”, he said, but it wasn’t a request, more like a demand, pushing his body away from Peter’s, emitting a whine from the boy. “Now Peter”, Tony said, quite sternly, delivering a rough slap down on the boys ass, licking his lips at the way it jiggled under the soft cotton, not hiding anything from Tony’s gaze, just the way he liked it. It stretched over his ass, and once again, Tong remembered just how lucky he was to have Peter. He was so perfect, and of course, not just in his body, but in every other way. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Peter’s head. “Come on Pete, I’ve gotta lock up, the sooner I do, the sooner we can leave”, he said in a softer tone this time. “And if you’re good, daddy might just help you out in the car”, he growled lowly, patting his backside gently before moving to begin to turn off all the lights. 

Peter’s smile grew, nodding his head eagerly. He didn’t even say anything, way too excited to get home, tattoo forgotten. He grabbed Tony’s car key, before he practically ran out the door into the car park, scurrying to Tony’s old beaten up car, and slipping into the passenger seat. His dress was up his thighs within a second, rubbing himself through his lace panties with a moan. 

Tony took a last look around the shop, letting out a sigh. His gaze flicked to the window, making sure Peter got into the car safely, but frowned a bit. His precious boy getting into the rusty old steel can, was a heavy sight - he rubbed at his head with a groan. Peter deserved so much more: limousines and sports cars, his own personal driver. Tony didn’t even know how at this point he was keeping a roof over their heads. He struggled to buy Peter clothes for god’s sake. Everything he deserved, Tony couldn’t provide. And his angel of a boyfriend never once complained. But Tony knew, or at least he thought he did, Peter was probably sick of it. He came from wealth and splendour, he was used to mansions and gold, not a shitty, dirty apartment in the rough part of the neighbourhood. Tony closed his eyes, trying to diminish these thoughts. It wasn’t long until Peter turned around and told him he’d had enough, he just had to try and build a better life for them before that. 

With an aching hand he grabbed the store keys, and walked out the door, beginning to lock up. 

~

The ride home was… pleasant, to say the least. Peter’s high pitched whines and moans filling the interior of the car whilst Tony’s large fingers filled him up perfectly, the other hand lay unshaking on the wheel as if nothing was even happening. 

The rest of the night passed like usual. Before they’d even made it through the door, humping each other desperately in the elevator, and Peter giving a not so subtle moan of a “heya Alfred’, to their elderly (extremely homophobic ) neighbour as Tony carried him in. Before they’d even shut the door, Tony whispered “cum for me baby”, and Peter was crying out. His ring of flesh and muscle clenching around Tony’s fingers as he came, his body trembling in his arms. Tony shut the door in just enough time to hear Alfred shouting at them about reporting them, but neither of the two were listening. 

As Peter calmed himself down, with shaky legs he climbed down and was on his knees within seconds. In just two more, Tony’s briefs and jeans were around his ankles and Peter’s lips were wrapped around his cock. 

It was a while before they’d lowered their sex drives just enough to actually eat some proper food and get on with their night (the main event was always saved for later). Tony looked across at Peter from their small kitchen table as he shovelled Kraft Mac and Cheese down his throat. It was far from the five star meal Tony had wanted to give to him, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting one of those at least any time soon. But Peter didn’t seem to mind, he was content with his slightly congealed dinner (because Tony didn’t add enough milk). 

“I’m still not through with this Tony”, Peter said suddenly. 

Tony let out a long sigh, his fork clattering to his plate as he leant back against the creaking chair and closed his eyes. 

“I don’t want you to get all moody with me Tony, but you need to realise this is important to me…”

“Why do you want a tattoo so bad Peter?”, he questioned. There was a long, pregnant silence and thus, Peter’s answer never came. 

“See, you’re being silly. You just want one because you see me, and you see what I do, and you’re fascinated by it”, it was from the truth, but Peter didn’t want to give up the real answer just yet. Sure one of the reasons was because it was a big part of Tony’s life, but it wasn’t the only reason. The fact that he didn’t want to reveal it was what kept him silent. “You don’t need a tattoo my love. Trust me. Your porcelain skin is perfect without having any ink to taint it.”

“But what if it’s important to me…”

“Shush Peter now please. I don’t want to have this conversation anymore”, he continued, ignoring the fact that he’d completely cut Peter off.”It’s like what Kim whatever her last name is said: You wouldn’t put a bumper stick on Harley.”

Peter’s face scrunched up before he huffed. “It was Kim Kardashian. And a Bentley Tony, It was a Bentley. Not everyone thinks a motorbike is the most precious thing in the world like you. If you’re going to try and persuade me with pop culture references at least get them right so you don’t look like a fool at the end of it”, he snapped. 

“I’m sorry baby boy. But that’s it now, come on. No more talk about tattoos.”

Of course Peter was much too stubborn to actually agree. So he stayed quiet, not promising anything but giving up for tonight. He stabbed his fork into a piece of macaroni, putting it into his mouth with a small sigh. A heavy tension warmed both of them, the only sound being their forks scraping against their bowls. It was only once Tony was finished, looking over to Peter with an almost guilty but subtle expression. 

Feeling the gaze on him, Peter’s soft eyes looked up at Tony and finally he smiled.He didn’t want to argue anymore tonight “So am I still getting my bath daddy?”, he asked innocently, and with a chuckle, Tony too, began to smile. 

 “However could I deny my baby of his desires”, yet his smile was tight, unconvinced, because it was pretty easy when he didn’t have the money to get them in the first place.

~

Tony’s wish for that conversation to be the last of its kind was clearly not granted. Sure, Peter had actually waited a full month this time before inquiring again, but Tony just hadn’t wanted it to be bought up at all, but of course, the boy’s persistence was much too strong for that.

Yet his persistence was fueled by the simple reason that Peter was annoyed. Tony didn’t even want to look at the design he’d chosen, and maybe if he did he’d realise why it was so important and special for Peter to get it. So this time, he didn’t give him the choice.

They were cuddling on the couch. Peter tucked snugly under his arm, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over them as both men kept their eyes to the TV. Peter didn’t even know what they were watching, but he was bored.And it wasn’t long before his interests moved someplace else. His fingertips softly crawled down Tony’s arm, his gentle touch scarcely brushing over his skin until he reached where he wanted. Tony of course had two sleeves of tattoos, one on each arm. Starting from the bottom, Peter began to trace around the tattoos gently with his fingertips. Underneath him, Tony tensed, already knowing what was coming from that one small movement. 

“Your tattoos are so pretty Tony”, Peter muttered quietly, looking up at his lover with a sincere grin. 

“Thank you love, you know that means a lot to me… but you’re still not getting one.”

There was a beat of silence before Peter let out a frustrated grin. “Why are you being such an ass about this”, he eventually shouted, pulling himself away from Tony and up off the couch. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table before sitting back down with a pout making sure to leave a good couple of inches away just to emphasise how annoyed he was with the man. “You didn’t even let me finish, I didn’t even get to ask this time but you’re already saying no. Just look and you’ll understand”

Peter thrust the phone under Tony’s nose, forcing him to look at the photo on the screen “MJ drew it for me after I told her what sort of thing I wanted!”

Even Tony had to admit, the idea was cute, and he did understand why Peter wanted it. It was an infinity sign, with Tony’s initials causing a break at the top right and the bottom left. Above it was a heart, and around it birds. It stemmed from Peter’s guilty obsession with the notebook. When they first met, Tony had never watched it, and on when on their midnight picnic date,  Peter said he wished he too would like to be reincarnated into a bird upon his death, and Tony looked over and somehow managed to quote the lines perfectly: ‘If you’re a bird, then I’m a bird’, before leaning in to give him a soft kiss. Of course the quote was written just under the infinity sign and honestly Tony thought it was perfect. It was drawn in such a way that it didn’t seem too much for one tattoo. It was beautiful and yet it hurt his heart.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but I had to ask you first, I was going to get Bucky to do it, but he knows how protective you are and said he wouldn’t unless he got your permission. But if I don’t then I guess I’ll just go get it done from someone he will, whether you want me too or not. My body, my choice or whatever”, it was a clear sign Peter was seething. He was actually considering going against Tony’s word. There wasn’t exactly a power imbalance in their relationship, but usually Peter did listen to Tony, and thus far, they’d managed to always settle an agreement. 

Finally, Tony lifted his gaze from the screen of the phone. He turned to look at Peter shaking his head. “Peter if you do that, I will never forgive you. You’re not getting it”, he said firmly. “That shits permanent, I would know, I do it for a living.”

Tony half expected Peter to continue to argue, maybe beg, or storm off angrily. He didn’t seem upset, at least not until Tony’s last words. As soon as they left his mouth, it was like something inside of Peter had snapped. He recoiled, bringing the phone to his chest and clutching his heart like he was in great pain.His angry expression dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed. He was hurt. No, he looked more than hurt, he looked broken. And Tony wanted it to go away. 

He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. But he needed to fix it. He couldn’t have his baby that upset. Especially over him. 

“Baby, whatever you think I said I didn’t mean it..”, he tried to soothe, yet Peter’s bottom lip was quivering and tears were forming in his eyes. 

“Oh so you didn’t mean just to tell me our love means nothing to you”, he spoke. His voice cracked, wavering with the sudden burst of intense emotion. 

“What?” Tony asked, panicking as he shook his head and reached out to touch him. But Peter was much too fast, standing before Tony could come anywhere near him. “Baby..”, Tony sighed, “Baby I didn’t say that at all”, he whispered.

“No, Tony, you did. That shits permanent huh? Yeah, you’re right, that’s exactly why I want it. Because I thought we would be too. Isn’t that what you always promise me? Me and you, forever. Then why won’t you let me get something to symbolise that. Are you gonna break up with me? Is that it?”, he was shouting now, tears streaming down his red face, all worked up from his rant.

“Peter you know that isn’t what I meant. I’m not going to break up with you. I want to be with you forever, I promise. I just don’t want you to regret it…”, he winced as soon as the words left his mouth, realising he was only making things a lot worse. 

Peter let out a cry before turning on his heel and walking to the bedroom. Tony was up and after him of course but as he reached the door, a pillow was thrown to his chest and the door slammed in his face. He looked down at the Pillow and let out a small groan. Guess it was the couch tonight.

~

It had been a week, and Peter still wasn’t talking to Tony. The good thing - he hadn’t packed his bags and left. Tony was only hoping this was over soon because he didn’t think his back was going to survive the couch any longer. Well there was that and the fact that his baby was mad at him and he of course didn’t like that.

He’s just gotten done with a client,in the store, it had been a quiet day. With no appointments for now he’d sent Bucky on his lunch break. He sat at his chair behind the counter, letting out a deep breath to try and feel a bit more alive. 

As the door opened, a small gust filled the room causing Tony to look up. He raised an eyebrow as he watched a forlorn looking Peter come trudging in. He was on his feet within an instant “Baby are you okay?”

Peter sniffled quietly, moving his hand to wipe at his eyes, and as Tony walked around the counter he noticed the tracks of tears on his pink cheeks. He opened up his arms and within seconds Peter had sunk into them, the first time in a week they’d had any sort of contact apart from minor conversations within the apartment. “Peter what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you”, he repeated, more urgently this time already plotting all the ways he could get away with murder.

“I just tried to get some groceries Tony…”, Peter said softly, causing Tony to look down at him confused, nodding his head as if coaxing him to continue. “Your card got declined…”

With those four words, Tony tensed up. His arms grew loose around Peter, despite how hard the boy struggled to hold on in an attempt to ground Tony and not have him lose his mind. But it was too late. He gently pushed Peter away, moving to sit back in his chair, his head in his hands. It was quite for a long while, too long of a while. Quiet until Peter slowly approached, taking Tony’s hands and moving them so that he could crawl into his lap, facing him.

“It’s okay Tony, we’ll figure it out. I’ll get my dad..”

“Your dad hates me. I don’t think he’ll be willing to send me money because I can’t do enough to fucking support us”, Tony spat bitterly. 

Peter sighed pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips to try and calm him down. “We’ll work through it. We always have done. I’m starting at that florist around the corner next week, remember?”

Of course Tony remembered. Peter had never worked a job in his twenty one years of living. Tony knew that from the start. But Peter wasn’t a spoiled brat. He was just used to living a soft, cushy life. If he fell, there would also be pillows underneath him to break his fall. All until he met Tony. 

They’d kept it a secret for a while - Peter sneaking out to see him and whatnot. But his parents were bound to find out eventually. And when they did, the ambitious and wealthy Parker’s were not happy that their only son was dating a ‘punk street rat’ as they so lovingly put it. It was either Peter broke up with him, or cut off his ties to his family. So of course Tony retaliated by gifting Peter a promise ring and the rich pretty boy’s life changed forever. His credit card was shut off, his phone bill shut off, everything Peter was used to, was gone. The only things he had left were the clothes on his back, and his actual phone. The newest at the time, but now, it was the oldest phone Peter had ever had. And it would only get older. He moved into Tony’s cramped apartment, but even now, some of the clothes he owned were still folded in his suitcase because they wouldn’t fit in Tony’s small wardrobe. He promised he’d get Peter his own, he never managed to get enough funds. In an attempt to give Peter what he was used to, he had to change a lot about the way he lived. He told Peter not to get a job - he didn’t have to help, that was Tony’s job; he paid his phone bill for him (at the expense of Tony’s own phone, which he ended up selling); he would never let the food get low like he used to, even though it meant he was spending more on it, and he’d make sure his bills were always paid on time. Before Peter, he didn’t care if he had to shower in cold water, but he never wanted his baby to take anything but a hot steamy shower; he didn’t care if he was threatened at being thrown on the streets for not paying his rent, but he would never drag Peter into something like that.

The point is, Tony never wanted anything but the best for Peter, and so he worked with what he had. But now, he’d failed. And he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. 

“Baby with all due respect, I don’t think your little florist job is going to do much. I have to pay  bills in two weeks, rent in three, and.. Fuck.. I was meant to give Bucky his pay tomorrow!”

Peter bit down on his lip. Tony never usually let him in on the financial side of things, he didn’t like to let Peter see how hard it was to make ends meet. So, Peter was a bit at a loss with all of these things.

“I can sell some of my clothes-”, he began, but was cut off by the glare from Tony making him go quiet instantly. 

“I’m not making you do that”, Tony said, he was firm, his voice wavering with slight aggression. But Peter didn’t blame him, Tony was scared, it was so clear to see in his eyes. “Peter I need you to go back to your parents and tell them that we broke up. Just say that they were right, and..”, he began to raise his voice to speak over Peter’s sounds of indignation “I know it will hurt your dignity, but for the sake of you not having to struggle through me being incredibly broke, I need you to go back.”

“It’s not my dignity Tony-”

“Peter I’m still in debt from fucking opening this place!”

“Shut up and let me finish! It’s not my dignity I’m worried about, It’s you. You’re supposed to be the one I marry. Your struggles are my struggles whether you like it or not. I’ll live on the streets if i have to, as long as it’s with you. I can go days without eating, so if it’s food you’re worried about, we’ll buy what we can and you can eat it all. If we have to leave the apartment then MJ and Ned will help us get back on our feets. And I know Bucky and his boyfriend Steve would too. If not your friends, I know you have them Tony.”

He was off his lap at this point, pacing, the desperation rich in his tone trying to get Tony to see that he wasn’t leaving him.

“Why do you want to stay with a poor fucker like me?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU TONY”, Peter finally burst, turning around to shout at him, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. “Because I love you”, he repeated, quieter this time and softer.

 “Don’t you love me?” he asked quietly. He seemed almost scared to hear the answer.

Yet he didn’t have to. Because Tony’s eyes flashed with guilt and Peter gasped, a sharp pain shooting through his chest as he fell forward against the counter no longer able to hold his body up himself.

“I knew it..”, he muttered quietly, refusing to look Tony in the eyes as his own filled with tears. “This is why you wouldn’t let me get the tattoo.”

Tony felt like the worst man in the world. Of course he loved Peter, but he couldn’t let him know that otherwise he’d stay and Tony would feel so much worse knowing he was putting Peter through hell. But at the mention of the tattoo he scoffed. 

“Are you really going to bring that up at a time like this”, he snapped, standing from his chair and shaking his head. 

“Well I guess it just confirms what I said all along. You don’t love me half as much as I love you, and forever was always just a lie..”, although Peter’s bitterness was evident, so was his pain. And as he turned around to leave through the door Tony knew deep down he couldn’t leave it like this. 

“No Peter, that’s where you’re wrong”, Tony said his hands clenched into fists as he turned around to face the smaller male. He was met with Peter’s back, but he’d froze. His hope was always there, hope that Tony did actually love him.

 “Look down at your hand and the ring on your finger. It was a cheap ring, it was all I could afford at the time, it’s pretty funny how I can afford even less now. It’s discoloured, It’s not the right size for your finger, but I tried my best”, he waited as Peter did so, “I gave you that as a promise that I would spend the rest of my life with you as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. If you continue to try and make ends meet with me, you will be none of those things.”

“You don’t know that..”

“I do Peter. Because even if I somehow manage to get out of this debt, and we go back to the way we were before, You still deserve better. I haven’t taken you on a date since those first few months, I haven’t got you gifts either. That ring was the last thing I ever got you. Do you know how disgusting that makes me as a man?”

Peter spun around at that, his expression hardened, clearly wanting to disagree, but Tony didn’t let him.

“I never wanted you to get the tattoo because I was set on changing our lives. I thought I was getting somewhere, but obviously I miscalculated. I wanted to give you the life you were used to, A tattoo would only be a reminder of where you started out with me. Poor, struggling, overall just living a pretty shitty life. I figured when i’d turned our lives around you wouldn’t want that reminder of how it used to be”, he said quietly, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly. 

“That’s the reason I also want you to go. Not because I don’t love you, but because I love you too much to see you suffer anymore.”

Peter let out a soft whimper, looking down to his feet. 

“I’m not suffering Tony, no matter what you might think. I’m not. Sure, it was hard for me to adjust into a lifestyle I’m not used to. But never once in our two years of being together have I ever complained.”

“I just want to give you the best.”

“You already do Tony. We could be living in a homeless shelter and I still wouldn’t complain as long as I’m with you..”

Both of them fell silent. It seemed a long time before the room saw any movement. But eventually Tony opened his arms and Peter scurried into them. They stayed there for a while. Just with each other, trying not to think of what was going on around them, and just focusing on their love. Because they needed each other. And maybe Tony was finally starting to see that.

~

“Being woken up like this never gets old..”

Tony’s husky morning voice filled the room as Peter giggled and cuddled against his side. He’d just gotten done with his mandatory morning hickey attack on Tony’s neck, and of course his lover wasn’t complaining.

“I have to remind all your employees that you’re taken”, Peter whispered softly against his ear, his hand rubbing Tony’s chest appreciatively of the man’s body. “Especially that new secretary you have, Poppy was her name or something.. I don’t like her, I see the way she’s eyeballing you”, Peter pouted, causing Tony to chuckle and press a kiss to Peter’s pouty lips. 

“It’s Pepper love, and I wouldn’t worry. I’m pretty sure she, and all of my employees remember the sinful sounds you were making as you decided to ride me on my desk with the door wide open to display the fact that I am actually owned”, Tony reminded, a fond smile on his face at the memory. It definitely set the tone for what kind of boss Tony was.

“Well I got my point across didn’t I? You’re loved nationally and internationally, I don’t wnat no one touching on my man” Peter huffed, causing Tony to chuckle and nod his head.

“Yes, yes baby, you definitely did.. So much so that I think we should repeat it right now”, he hummed softly, pulling Peter on top of his body causing the younger male to roll his eyes. 

“You’re going to be late for work Tony. You can’t keep Stark industries waiting!!”

“I own it you silly”, was the reply, but Tony was far too concentrated on pressing kisses over Peter’s skin to really give it much thought, His tongue slipping under the waistband of Peter’s lace panties, emitting a soft moan from the boy. Sex back in their old apartment was mind blowing, but sex in their large mansion, on their silk sheets, just added a bit more to it if you asked him. Tony swore he’d tore this pair of underwear off the boy last night, but then again, Peter had so many sets of lingerie, Tony swore he was seeing new ones every day. 

As Peter shuffled down between Tony’s legs to take the older male’s morning wood into his mouth he smiled up at him. Ever since Tony managed to set up Stark industries, and gave the tattoo shop to Bucky (of course giving him some starting funds too, not wanting him and Steve to have to go through what he and Peter did), Tony had been so much happier. Of course that was to be expected, he was stressed, but this was a better type of stress. No one was worrying about where the money was going, if they could pay bills next month. It had been a long road, with a hell of a lot of speed bumps and potholes, but they’d finally made it. 

“Do you think we can go out to dinner later, just me and you? That nice restaurant you took me to when you proposed. I know it’s expensive, but it’s about time we had a date!”

Tony laughed softly, nodding his head. His fingertips running down Peter’s back and over his sides affectionately. They brushed over Peter’s tattoo, the one Tony ended up getting too, in the same place as Peter, on his side, as he hummed softly. “Of course baby”, he said softly, deliberately missing out the fact that they literally went on a restaurant date a couple of days ago. 

“Now stop stalling, your little ass is tight and my cock isn’t going to lube itself”, he demanded, watching as Peter rolled his eyes and spat on his erect shaft, Tony running his fingers through his hair.

Because after all, who was he to deny his baby of his desires; especially now that he could, and he would, give him the world.

[bigbrotherlouis]

i’m bored have 1k of tk/patty accidentally bonding

claude opens the door to patty looking more mutinous and tk looking twitchier than usual, and almost slams the door in their faces. it seems innocuous enough, but claude has a bad feeling. an intuition. you don’t get to where he’s at by ignoring what your gut is telling you and his gut is saying that he is going to be fucked by whatever comes out of their mouths next.

sometimes, being the responsible captain sucks.

“what.”

“we accidentally bonded,” tk says immediately, all in a rush, like he’s been holding it in for hours.

claude pinches the bridge of his nose. “jesus christ,” he says and swings the door shut, for real this time. he just, like, needs the space.

there’s a brief, surprised silence and then a furious amount of whispering on the other side. it sounds like arguing, which is pretty par for the course, bonded or not. he doesn’t trust them not to ring the doorbell and wake gavin up. ryanne might kill him if they do that, right after he kills his teammates, and he’s not willing to take that chance.

he opens it again. they both jump.

“accidentally?”

“yeah,” tk answers as patty glares some more.

“you’re bonded? for sure?”

“damn sure.”

“how do you know?”

tk rolls his eyes and then drops patty’s hand where it had been tangled between them. pat hisses, doubling over and pressing his palm to his forehead.

“fuck you,” he slurs and teeks, looking a little pale, reaches for him again. they sigh in unison as soon as their skin touches, tension leaking out of their bodies. that’s a bond, alright. goddammit.

“jesus christ,” claude repeats, thinking of his planned afternoon nap that’s for certain a pipe dream by now. fucking rookies, man. they’re not even rookies anymore, but still. fucking children. “you’d better come inside. if you wake the baby, i’ll strangle you with your own laces.”

“cute,” patty says, even, like he just wasn’t nearly flat on his back because he wasn’t in direct physical contact.  

“pat doesn’t have laces on his shoes,” says tk. they’re both so fucking stupid.

“does he velcro his skates?”

“no,” patty answers at the same time tk says, “oh,” all dragged out like he’s realising he’s an idiot.

ryanne’s in the living room, clicking through channels, and she looks up in surprise when two grown hockey players follow her husband into the room, looking worse for the wear.

“emergency?” she guesses and claude nods. she sighs, dropping the remote on the cushion next to her and getting to her feet. “don’t wake gav.”

“we won’t,” claude promises and shoots them a meaningful look. they both nod, reading the threat of bag skates in their future that claude sends telepathically in their direction. ryanne sighs again and brushes her fingers over claude’s shoulder as she goes. he leans into it, just a little, at the calm that settles in him at the touch.

“cute,” pat says again when ryanne’s safely out of the room and he sends another pointed look at where pat’s thumb is rubbing over tk’s knuckles, grins when pat goes bright red.

“so,” he starts, watching them arrange themself on the couch. “you bonded.”

“yep.” tk pops the p.

“when?”

“fuck if we know.”

claude pinches his nose again. “boys.”

“it was an accident!” patty protests, back to his mutinous expression.

“how do you accidentally bond?”

“it, like, happens,” defends tk and makes a face. “we looked it up.”

“of course you did.”

“it’s rare, but it happens.”

“okay,” says claude. “did you two fuck?”

he’s never seen two people go so red so fast. patty’s pure scarlet, yanking his hand away to press to his face again, this time out of embarrassment. tk refuses to look anywhere but the floor. neither of them seem to notice how they curl into each other so they’re still touching, sides all pressed together now that it’s not skin-to-skin contact. but, claude supposes, that’s nothing new.

“jesus fuck,” tk mutters. “of course we didn’t.”

“uh huh,” claude says neutrally. patty flails out a leg to try and hit him and misses by about a mile. “i’m just saying. that’s generally how you bond with people.”

“we didn’t— we didn’t,” pat tells him.

“then how the fuck did you bond?”

travis and nolan look at each other for a long minute and then back at claude, shrugging in tandem.

“okay,” he says, rubbing at his temples. jesus, when did he become the mature one of the team? why did they ever let him do this? “okay, let’s work backwards. how did you guys figure it out?”

“pretty fuckin’ obvious when tk can’t stop puking his guts up and i can’t think through the icepick getting shoved in my brain, but it goes away when we high five, bud,” says patty. “doesn’t take a scientist to figure that one out.”

“that’s a pretty intense onset,” g muses. “doesn’t usually come on that strong all at once. with ryanne—” both the boys make identical grossed out faces. “shut up, you guys came to me for help so you’re going to listen.”

“we didn’t say anything,” tk protests. claude glares.

“what i was saying was, it didn’t ever get that painful. like, uncomfortable, yeah, but not…” he waves a hand at them. “that.”

“so we’re fucking special,” snarks pat. “big fuckin’ whoop.”

“i’m not saying you’re special, dumbass. i’m saying you’re repressed.”

there’s a few seconds of ringing silence.

“repressed?” tk ventures. he looks a little dizzy.

“you ignored it for too long and it’s coming back to bite you in the ass.”

more silence. they’re going to hurt themselves with all the hard thinking they’ve done in the past ten minutes.

“like, how long exactly?”

claude looks at nolan, makes a decision. “how long have your migraines been bad, again?”

patty bristles, just like he figured he would. touchy. “are you saying— my head thing is because of a bond?”

“no, not exactly. i’m just saying it could’ve made it worse. triggered it n’shit.”

tk twitches. “those started over the summer.”

“uh huh. and then pat moved in with haysie and you weren’t all over each other. well,” he amends, thinking about what he just said, “not as much.”

“but we weren’t living together,” says tk. claude raises his eyebrow and doesn’t even have to argue that one. pat’s going to set a record for longest consecutive blush if he’s not careful.

“so, what happened before the summer?”

it’s like claude plunged the room in ice, the mood shifts so fast. both of them stiffen, decidedly not making eye contact with each other or with him. he wonders if they’d like to reconsider his question about hooking up, thinks about asking just to fuck with them a little. he’s not that cruel, though.

“nothing happened before the summer,” tk says shortly and claude snorts before he can stop himself.

“that reaction was not nothing, teeks.”

pat snaps his teeth together so hard claude can hear it, even from where he’s sitting, and shoves himself into a sitting position.

“who are you, some kind of… bond specialist or something? who even asked you?”

“uh,” says claude. pat ignores it in favour of keeping on.

“nothing happened, g. we accidentally bonded somehow a couple days ago and we’re going to get it broken, and this was a waste of fucking time.”

he extracts himself from where tk is holding on to him and stomps out the room, so angry it’s almost a physical thing. tk looks after him with wide eyes and then back at claude. he looks as shaken as claude feels.

“i don’t—” tk starts, and then stops, somewhere between conflicted and embarrassed. claude scratches at his beard.

“go after him,” he says around a sigh, because tk is already looking green around the gills and there’s a decent chance patty is doubled over in his hallway. “i’ll see you tomorrow at practice. assuming you can make it.”

tk nods, shaky, and then stumbles away.

“jesus christ,” claude says to the empty room. “that was a fucking mess.”

[the-bounce-back]

THE “WRITING CURE” - 3 TYPES OF JOURNALING TO IMPROVE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH

Happy New Year, guys!

Yes, it is far too late to say that… but it’s my first post of 2021 and I’ve been procrastinating hella... so please kindly cry elsewhere if this is an issue. Thanks in advance! 

I hope that everyone has had a fantastic start to the year despite the fact that we’re going to be held hostage in our own homes for at least another four months.

After giving myself time to throw a fit and and a little (massive and unnecessarily dramatic) strop after hearing the news about the new lockdown and calming down a bit, I started to contemplate how different it is this time around, for better or worse. Worse in the sense that it is a) the middle of f*cking winter so we can’t even enjoy being outside and have socially distanced pIcNiCs, and b) because it literally came out of nowhere so there was zero chance to mentally prepare for it. I literally woke up from a nap, checked socials and found out that we were suddenly on lockdown… Do you realise how mad that is?

Luckily, there are some silver linings with this lockdown that I brutally force myself to focus on so I don’t lose my sh*t. One thing is that most of us probably know by now how to keep some kind of structure to our days this time - because as much as binging trash tv, being horizontal for 75% of the day, eating, chatting shit on facetime for an obscene amount of hours, bunning and going to bed at 8 am was all fun and games the first time around, chances are that you realised pretty soon that your life was literally just wasting away and you have nothing to show for it… besides bedsores, losing all muscle definition and a migraine, that is. Yes, being lazy and unproductive is needed sometimes, but eventually you’re literally gagging for something to do - and this time around you probably have something creative or work-related to do that can keep your mind preoccupied.

Additionally, this lockdown comes hand in hand with the rollout of the vaccine, meaning that the end of this nonsense is coming closer and closer. Regardless of if you’re planning on taking it or not, it still means that the emotions that are a result of isolation and lack of social interaction won’t last forever - which, for me at least, is great news and makes things feel a lot less hopeless.

However, as much as focusing on the pOsItIvEs is imperative during times like these, it’s equally as important to acknowledge and feel your feelings. This whole situation f*cking sucks, let’s be real. We miss our families, we miss our friends, we miss going out, we miss going to the gym/having the option to go to the gym and making excuses not to. We miss our old lives, and the realisation that it is going to be what feels like eons until we can get back to that is bound to get people in their feelings from time to time… or all the time. I often find myself forcing myself to stay productive and creative, only to have the thought “What’s even the point?” attack me out of nowhere, and it really kills my vibe - because sometimes I can’t even think of a decent answer.

It’s dangerously easy to fall into a slump under these circumstances, regardless of how resilient and strong you feel that you are. Forcing yourself to find structure, purpose, inspiration and motivation during this time may be extremely important, but mate...  it is exhausting. There’s only so much mental energy you can use to be ray of f*cking sunshine, and once that energy runs out, replenishing it is a huge task since you can’t even do the things you usually do to feel rejuvenated - because outside is locked off.

Ok, so I’m definitely projecting. But I know that a lot of people can relate to these occasional feelings of hopelessness.

This is where I’d usually remind you that these feelings are tEmPoRaRy and will pass, but I’m not going to do that because you’re probably sick of hearing it by now. Instead, I’m going to reintroduce you all to a coping method that you’ve all probably come across in your lives already - journaling.

As in, journaling with intent. I’m personally not very big on the whole “dEaR DiArY” thing where you just whine and b*tch and complain about people/yourself (but to each their own I guess), but I’m talking about writing about topics designed to aid your healing and to help you see the bigger picture of your mental health, and life in general.

I wrote a post a couple years ago about alternatives to therapy for those that aren’t keen on talking to a stranger about their problems (if you missed it, read it here), so I thought that this post could be an elaboration on that. Seeing as a lot of us may feel disconnected and isolated from our family and friends at this moment, getting into writing about your current mindstate, emotions and worries is definitely a healthy outlet that I would recommend to anyone that doesn’t want to bottle things up, but don’t feel like they have much choice.

“But Liv! I don’t have time to write endless pages about my feelings because I’m ~*extremely busy*~!”

I thought you might say that. First of all - extremely busy during a lockdown? Stop the lies please. Secondly, I’ve found that journaling is very much like going to the gym - once you’re into it and see the benefit of it you gladly set time aside to do it. However, if you view it as a gruelling chore that you’d less rather do than all the dishes currently in your sink, it’s very easy to come up with excuses to not do it. To be fair it isn’t for everyone, so if you try it and hate it it’s not the end of the world.

“Ok, you got me. I don’t want to do it because writing is LoNg” 

I think what puts people off journaling has to do with the image that pops into their head. To this day I still imagine Elle Woods writing in a pink fluffy diary with a pink fluffy pen on her bed and kicking her feet in the air - which may be appealing to some (me), but cringe to other (uncultured) people. But journaling doesn’t have to be done on fancy stationary - you can literally do it in a word doc in bullet point form, or even record voice memos if writing is sOoOo LoNg. The idea is that you should find a method that works for you, doesn’t feel like a burden and that you can incorporate into your routine.

With that being said, I know a lot of people reading this will still think of excuses to not do it, so let me just focus on those that are open minded enough to try something new chile. I’ll be covering my three favourite journaling “methods”, that have helped me stay sane, motivated and in touch with myself. They are very much focused on emotional, spiritual and mental growth, and will encourage you to think outside of the box when it comes to your mindset and attitude towards challenges that may (will) arise.

What’s important to remember is that what works for me may not work for or resonate with you in the same way, so I definitely encourage further research into journaling/journal prompts that are tailored to your needs. Let’s get it!

1. Gratitude journals.

To say that a gratitude journal - as far as journaling goes, at least - is imperative for your mental health during times like these is definitely the understatement of the century. When you wake up and find yourself still being held hostage, that your body is still in an absolute shambles despite all the useless hOmE wOrKoUtS you’re doing AND on top of everything it’s f*cking snowing, learning to see things to be grateful for amidst all the stress and frustration might seem like a very difficult task. Especially when you feel like setting the whole building on fire.

However, trust me when I say that taking a few moments each day to appreciate the little things that are getting you through it all will make you realise that things could actually be a whole lot worse, giving you a slight boost in your mood and outlook - because imagine how you’d feel if the thing/person you’re grateful for wasn’t there to help you through what can be a really sh*tty time? 

On top of just feeling better about this situation on a day-to-day basis, keeping a gratitude journal can also help you keep yourself grounded, present, self aware of what matters to you and just more mindful about life in general. When there’s not a whole lot of options of things to do, it can be very easy to fall into thought patterns of either wishing time would speed up so the future can come, or reminiscing on better and happier times in the past. I wouldn’t necessarily say that there is anything wrong with this from time to time, but it’s important to remember that life is still passing you by. On top of that, considering what made a kind of crap day bearable will help you realise that many of what we consider to be “bad days” are oftentimes a direct result of a negative attitude. Yes, I am projecting with this one.

With that being said, some days are genuinely just unfathomably horrible for seemingly no justifiable reason whatsoever - regardless of if you woke up feeling like a ray of sunshine or not. Again, even when bad moods aren’t a direct result of your stank attitude, practising gratitude can give you the motivation and kick in the arse you need to just ride the day out and remember that nothing that happens is permanent or unfixable. 

Then, of course, there are the days when everything just feels like a burden - including thinking about positive things. Sometimes slumps just dropkick us in the throat out of nowhere, and it’s okay to take some time to allow yourself to be pissed off, sad and depressed. Obviously everyone has their own preferred method of riding out these slumps (my personal favourite is wallowing in it until I realise that I need to get a f*cking grip), but I definitely recommend trying to find something small you’re grateful for to remind yourself that it will pass, as this knowledge can make heavy emotions slightly lighter.

In terms of frequency, it really is down to the individual. I’m lazy in the sense that I don’t want to write every day, so at the end of each week I just write about three things that made things a whole lot easier and that prevented me from wilding the f*ck out. And in terms of what you put in the journal, the sky is literally the limit. It can literally be anything that has contributed to you keeping your sanity; last week it was katsu nuggets, the neosoul playlist I came across on Spotify and the fact that I was finally able to switch from a nose stud to a nose ring that made me feel grateful. So, in other words… don’t worry about it having to be profound or meaningful in any way.

2. Positive affirmations.

I’m going to go ahead and assume that you don’t live under a rock and that you understand the meaning of the saying that words carry energy and power, and the concept of speaking things into existence. When I first read about how the words we speak to ourselves and others can transform our internal states on a deep and profound level… all I could think about was how f*cked I am, as I literally only communicate in sarcasm, and brutal drags and insults are my love languages. In my defence, my sarcasm is a coping mechanism that has completely gone off the rails - but that’s a post for another day. The point I’m trying to make is that words have extreme power, and can, when repeated often enough, alter your attitude, perception and feelings about yourself, your goals in life and your current situation - for better or for worse.

So... technically we shouldn’t even be engaging in any kind of self-deprecating humor - because our brain doesn’t actually know the difference between seriousness and sarcasm/bants. All it knows is taking words at face value. BIG yikes.

With that being said, affirmations are powerful and positive statements that aim to direct your conscious and subconscious mind, as well as challenge unhealthy, negative and self-deprecating thinking patterns you might currently be engaging in. They can also influence your subconscious mind to access new beliefs - hence why saying them out loud and with intent on a regular basis is considered crucial for them to actually work. By intent I basically mean speaking your affirmations with conviction, like they are already true - regardless of how far away from them being true you may feel that you are.

In terms of writing positive affirmations that genuinely work, there are many different formats and methods out there that can be adjusted to the individual. I personally utilise a 3 step method that has been working well-ish for me so far - it’s still early days, but it’s definitely a positive habit that I’m trying my best to continue. The 3 steps are as follows:

1, Listing your perceived negative features.

Notice how I say “perceived negative features” as opposed to just “negative features”. This is important because more often than not, the things we are insecure about or don’t like about ourselves are only truly noticeable to us. 

These features can literally be anything negative that has stuck with you over the years, regardless of if it’s a product of your own conclusions/internal critic or criticism/negative feedback from an external source. Usually they focus on your perception of yourself as a person, how you cope with life or the current situation you are in (e.g. home-/work-life, relationships etc).

The purpose of writing down things you don’t like about yourself isn’t to make you feel like sh*t, I promise. It’s to help you identify recurring themes in your insecurities, and to help you understand where these perceptions even came from in the first place. 

2. Rephrasing your perceived negative features as a positive affirmation.

In this step, the aim is to find positive antonyms to the negative features you have listed. It’s important that the words you choose carry weight and resonate with you on an emotional level, while also feeling believable and attainable to you. This, because if you’re anything like me you’ll feel like you’re just lying to yourself if the affirmation is too over the top… which kind of defeats the purpose. 

For clarity, here are a few of my perceived negative features (in the past), what they allude to and the affirmations I wrote for them:

- I worry too much about what other people will think about what I do, what I say, choices I make etc (fear of not being accepted/being talked about negatively) —> “I am feeling more empowered and self-assured as I release the need to care about others’ opinions”

- I’m too naive and keep letting people that don’t have my best interest at heart take advantage of my kindness (fear of disappointing people, fear of abandonment) —> “I am a kind, empathetic, loving person, and I am not at fault for showing kindness to people that didn’t deserve it”

- I hate the way my body is built and I constantly feel unattractive (low self esteem/confidence, body dysmorphia) —> “my body is beautiful, built exactly as it was meant to be, does all it can to ensure that I am strong and healthy and is immune to both internal and external criticism”.

3. Repeating your affirmations regularly.

This is where the ~*magic*~ happens. Yes, I am aware that telling yourself that you are that b*tch while looking into your own eyes in the mirror sounds very cringe and very coming-of-age-Netflix-original-for-tweens like. I can’t lie, it was in the beginning and I felt absolutely ridiculous… especially because a lot of my affirmations didn’t reflect how I felt about myself at the time. But as you incorporate repeating your affirmations into your daily routine, you’ll eventually start to feel a shift in your mindset towards yourself. The words you speak begin to chip away at the self-doubt and self-hate that you’ve built up over the course of your life, and you feel like you actually are stating facts instead of just trying to convince yourself.

Besides forcing myself to speak my affirmations out loud on a daily basis - regardless of how I’m feeling - I also make an effort to review them every couple of weeks to make sure that they are still relevant to how I feel about myself. Ideally, over time you’ll realise that the affirmations you made in the past confirm what you have always known deep down - that you are more than enough exactly as you are.

3. Shadow work.

Ok, so this sounds very dramatic, scary and ominous - and can’t lie, it can be if you allow yourself to be afraid of facing certain parts of yourself. In very brief terms, shadow work refers to the uncovering, processing and healing of different aspects of our “shadow” - which is essentially all the thoughts, emotions and behaviours we suppress and hide away in order to be perceived as “normal” by others around us. This might not seem like a problem, but the issue here is that the concept of “normality” and what is considered to be “normal” is in itself deeply rooted in the individuals past experiences, and especially childhood. For example, a person that grew up in an environment where expressing emotions and vulnerability/sensitivity was seen as a weakness may have problems with expressing their emotions as adults - since they have been conditioned to believe that emotions are a weakness, and are meant to be hidden away in order to be accepted.

As you can probably imagine, going through life with these false truths ingrained in your mind have a tendency to eventually come to the surface in some way in the future. Constantly feeling like you are restraining certain parts of yourself - regardless of if you’re aware of this or not - can manifest as issues such as mental and physical illness, feelings of low self-worth/esteem, addictions and many others issues that affect our life quality severely. These repressed aspects of ourselves are referred to as our “shadow selves”, and if we don’t “bring light” to the shadow - i.e. face the qualities we have that we have held back for so long - it can truly hold us back from reaching our full potential in life. 

With that being said, shadow work encourages you to force yourself out of denial about certain aspects of yourself, accepting it, and working on unpacking and bettering those aspects without judgment from your ego. I personally struggled a lot in the beginning of my shadow work jOuRnEy because it was infinitely easier to think of myself as a victim of others doings, rather than a combination of other people’s actions and how my ego and shadow self chose to react… if that makes any sense. I used to hate doing shadow work, because I felt so ashamed and angry at myself for allowing my ego to be distorted by lies and other peoples’ projections for so long. 

However, when these feelings arise and you feel like quitting - because WHY should healing be so f*cking painful - it’s actually a sign that you are headed in the right direction. Messed up, I know. But over time, you’ll become so used to sitting with your negative feelings towards yourself that they don’t even really phase you anymore, and you can admit that your shadow self and ego has caused you to form unhealthy habits and thinking patterns that can be detrimental to your mental health. Over time, you’ll develop a great sense of self awareness and self compassion, as well as great psychological, emotional and interpersonal maturity. 

Trust me. Being able to admit and accept that you are flawed without being harsh on or hating yourself is a BIG flex, and makes you unf*ckwittable. I actually dare someone to come and drag me for something I haven’t already dragged and forgiven myself for, because I haven’t had a good laugh in a while.

So, the bottom line with shadow work isn’t to bring light to your flaws to feel like shit about yourself (although you definitely will). The point is to bring said flaws to the surface, understand where they stem from, consider why and how it has affected you, and becoming aware of your triggers. Setting time aside a certain time each week to do this work and understand yourself on a deeper level gives you power over your ego, shadow self and triggers, because doing the work helps you see and understand that they don’t really have power over you unless you let them. 

In terms of format, I really just do whatever feels right when it’s shadow work o’clock. If I’ve had a particularly sh*tty week and can assign the blame to one of my shadow aspects, I literally just freestyle and write whatever comes to mind (my journal has SUFFERED this lockdown, honey). If nothing comes to mind, I like to make use of journal prompts that are designed to get you thinking and reflecting. I literally just get them online because I’m lazy, but here are some good ones to get you started:

- How judged do you feel on a daily basis? How much of said judgement is real and how much is imagined?

- What does it feel like to have your emotions belittled and downplayed?

- What has fear held you back from? Do you blame yourself or others?

- In what ways are you inauthentic?

As you can see, these prompts do not f*ck about. They’re going to get you in your feelings, make you feel weak and vulnerable and cry like a little b*tch, if you’re anything like me - not that there’s anything wrong with that! But the best part is that once you’ve finished writing, sat with all your negative emotions, accepted them and decided you are ready to move forward and heal, your triggers become less and less powerful - until the day comes when they’ve dissolved completely.

So, there you have it - three tools to help maximise your inner connection to your mental, physical, spiritual and overall wellbeing. As previously mentioned, there are tonnes more different journaling methods that can trigger a positive change in your mental health, and I definitely recommend looking into this and trying them out… wHeN yOu HaVe ThE tImE.

On that note, I want to reiterate that journaling shouldn’t be feeling like a time-consuming burden that you have to put a gun to your head to do every time - because brutally forcing yourself to do it is just going to make you feel sh*tty when you don’t/can’t/won’t follow through. It’s all about finding a time during the day, week or month (whatever frequency is best for you) that you set aside to really get in touch with and sit with your feelings. At the end of the day, it truly is a commitment that you make to yourself - and only you can decide how seriously you want to take this commitment. I will say this though - being inconsistent, procrastinating, skipping or making excuses to not do it only leads to distrust of the self. And If you can’t show up for yourself, how can you expect others to show up for you?

Check me out, leaving you all with food for thought and sh*t (and like I haven’t been ignoring the deadlines I’ve been setting for myself for weeks. Hypocrisy is and always will be my favourite pastime!). It’s giving Eckhart Tolle and I love it. The bottom line is that journaling can be a very powerful tool in your healing process, and it’s up to you to make it work for you. 

Until next time!

Love,

Liv

[femshepping]

mass effect canon love interests: isolating and being lazy together at home - sfw version

kaidan - it’s sweatpants and fluffy socks time, baby. he picks out the best movies to watch together and every morning he cooks up an amazing breakfast for you to eat together. you take naps together; he’s stress free and his migraines hardly make an appearance. you do chores together and joke the entire time. he’s happy, and you are too. you spend most nights on the back deck watching the sunset together, chatting about anything and everything. there’s always something new to learn about your favourite man.

garrus - garrus finds it a little harder to relax than kaidan might, but he does his best to chill tf out and not tinker with anything that is even remotely tinker-able. he makes a conscious effort to put down his data pad and spend quality time with you, and you really appreciate his effort. you notice that his hand is always reaching for yours or gently pressed against your lower back whenever he’s next to you. one morning, you wake to an intricately set up target practice set up in the yard of your home. you glance at each other and grin; the citadel bottles? forget about it. this is the real test, sunshine.

liara - liara is very concerned about the virus. you place a gentle hand over hers on her datapad - “it will be alright, liara,” you tell her. she smiles softly and nods. she knows, but she worries for everyone and she especially worries for you. you put on her favourite tv series and snuggle up to her on the sofa. she tilts her head to rest on top of yours, and you stay that way for hours. her hand squeezes yours and you smile. when you wake at midnight to the cool cyan glow of her datapad, you don’t interfere. you know liara needs to stay informed, and contribute in any way she can.

jack - there’s not enough fucking stuff to do, god damn it! it’s a daily struggle to help jack feel fulfilled. she can relax for an hour or so, but after that, it’s a lot of pacing and switching between activities. you’ve let her wax your eyebrows and customise some of your clothing and rearrange just about all of the furniture in the house, but you absolutely draw the line at any more amateur tattoos. the snack supply also depletes at an alarming rate. you’ve gotta get proactive about this. “hey jack,”you shout, and hope she hears from wherever she is in the house. “what?” she shouts back. there’s a loud crash and you cringe. “come here - you ever play doom?”

jacob - quarantine with jacob is a completely equal mix of laziness and fitness. you spend every morning in a routine - wake up, breakfast, shower, working in the home gym, cooling down with some yoga and cool down stretches, eating, showering, then turning into absolute slugs until dinner time. after dinner, you snuggle up in bed and he holds you until you fall into a relaxing slumber. you know that jacob is concerned about the situation outside, but he does his best to keep his head calm, and in turn, yours is too.

miranda - much like liara, miranda is concerned. she uses her professional reach to stay updated on the progress made to help fight the virus and passes that information on to you. it’s stressful, but comforting to know that this won’t last forever. you regularly take miranda food and drinks so she can stay healthy while she works at her terminal. you stand behind her and massage her shoulders, and she sighs as she melts under the soothing motion. you catch a glimpse of an impending bank transfer - three hundred thousand credits to the nearest public hospital. you are so proud of her - you know it’s probably not the first transfer, and it won’t be the last. “come hang out?” you ask. she smiles up at you and lets you lead her into the lounge room.

ashley - ashley is pretty chilled throughout everything. she realises it’s serious, but she knows you two are doing your part by staying home and not having contact with anyone in person. she talks to her family a lot, and she asks about yours daily. she’s on top of the toilet paper situation - you’ve got more rolls than cupboards which embarrasses you but it’s also a great comfort. you’ve already left more than a few rolls outside your front door for your neighbours in need. you take turns cooking for each other, and occasionally work out in the yard together to get some sunshine. she checks in with you often - “how are you feeling?” “are you doing ok?” “I love you.”

thane - this quarantine is so so so serious for him, and for you. with so little drell around to accurately gauge whether he is susceptible and if he could live through it, you don’t want to risk passing anything to him. you spend time draped across each other; reading books and sipping tea. you take regular breaks to chat about what you’re reading and anything else that comes to mind. these chats always end with you straddling him, giving him a sweet and gentle kiss, then flopping down to his side, where he holds you against him and you relax together in the peace, quiet, and safety of your home. he teaches you how to meditate, and when you’re practicing beside him you feel as light as a feather.

tali - netvids and chill. soooooo much netvids and chill. day drinking and movies that are so bad they’re good allllllll day. you’ve both been screened and cleared of the virus and are isolating for your own safety, so tali decides now is the time for her to begin removing her hood and helmet for longer periods of time. you’ve seen her before, of course, but her beauty never ceases to amaze you. you’ll never get sick of her sparkling eyes, and you especially love the way they look when she’s tipsy and laughing. you both go to sleep every night with pink cheeks and a smile on your face, and tali’s bedtime stories about rannoch give you beautiful, alien dreams.

steve - steve’s got a heart of gold, and he makes sure you’re always comfortable, never scared. when he thinks you’ve been watching too many news reports, he gently takes your hand and squeezes it in his own. “it’s good to be informed and prepared, but why don’t we watch something else?” he says softly with his soothing smile. you bicker jokingly about what to watch. you end up playing monopoly. once he gets out the beers, you know shit just got real.

sam - oh my god oh my god oh my god - there are not enough inhalers in the world for the stress induced asthma attack that looks like it’s about to take place once sam has seen the isolation restrictions turn into a full on lockdown. she’s come so far with her anxiety, but you know this situation is a struggle even for people who don’t have anxiety. you never laugh at her or make her feel judged. “how about I fill up the tub and get some snacks and drinks ready for us?” you suggest as you reach out and hold her hands in yours. she looks like she’s on the verge of tears, but she nods and smiles. “I’m gonna go set it up, alright? you yell if you need me,” you tell her. most of the time, sam just likes to know you’re there and be alone for a little bit. she dabs at her eyes with the back of her sleeve and nods again. you’re filling up the tub when you feel a small hand gently clasp your shoulder. when you look up, sam’s smiling her incandescent smile. “let’s get in”.

[s-trawberryv-eins]

We’ll Keep You Safe

NOT MY GIF

We’ll Keep You Safe

Vals 400 writing challenge – prompt: “If you pass out I’m not going to catch you.”

Summary: Sibling bonding in the workshop takes a turn when Caroline gets sick.

Please read here before reading!

Stark!OC x Peter Parker x Morgan Stark

Warnings: Illness, super minor angst, FLUFF

Word count: 1755

A/N: This is my questionable entry for @valkyriesryde​s writing challengeE!!! Thanks for letting me enter about two minutes ago, I love stress. Huge thanks to @crushedbyhyperbole​ for fixing my mistakes ;) I was tempted to write this as a reader insert but I decided to keep it within the Caroline Stark Series. Hope that’s okay with all my 3 fans! Enjoy :)

 AVENGERS COMPOUND

THE STARK WORKSHOP

Caroline remembers the day she met Peter as if it was yesterday. The day she really met him; as Tony's daughter, not as a S.H.I.E.L.D. employee. It’d surprised her how upset Parker had been upon discovering Caroline was Tony’s. Pepper had explained their relationship after in incident in Berlin, but she couldn't really understand it then. At 18, she thought it unfair that whilst she lived under a fake name, hiding in the shadows, her father was all but publicly claiming the boy he'd known for two minutes.

An uncharacteristic bitterness ran through her veins, and she'd refused to meet him. Tony confessed that he would’ve told Peter of her true parentage, had she been willing, but the doctor took her frustrations out on the boy despite it being obvious her upset was really with her father.

It’d had taken some time for Caroline and Tony to actually talk about the problem. Pepper had forced the two to sit down and talk it through.

“I know what I sound like Dad, okay? I know that I'm kept a secret for a reason, I get it. But it hurts! To see you out there, like father and son, with a kid you've known for 2 minutes! I can’t even post a picture of us on my Instagram, yet you two are the headline of every newspaper in New York."

He'd been speechless at first, kicking himself for not understanding what his daughter struggled to say. Taking his hands in hers, he promised to fix the problem. 

If only he’d had the time.

-

“We could add an override? Like, in case she's in real trouble?”

“I toyed around with the idea, but if it fell into the wrong hands? I don’t think she needs it. I’ll control the suit, she’ll have basic autonomy, but it'll be myself and FRIDAY doing the work.” 

Peter and Caroline were playing with the idea of an in-case-of-emergencies suit for Morgan. It was armour more than anything, a way to keep her safe if she ever found herself in danger.

“I wanna shoot bad guys.” Peter ruffled the young girl’s hair with a laugh, crouching down to her height.

 “What’s your superhero name gonna be? You’ll need to think of one.” Upon realising that she had an important task, Morgan raced over to her desk - the one Caroline had created for her one day after a fall from a stool resulted in a trip to the med bay for stitches. Morgan had slept in her little workshop that very first night, sat on her chair with her head resting on her desk amongst her stationary and Morgan-friendly tools. Even now, it was difficult to pull her away.

“What's your superhero name Caroline?” Morgan appeared distracted as she asked, but Peter seemed interested by her answer.

“I don’t really know, actually. The Doctor seems to have stuck with the media; the team call me Doc, I guess they got it from that? I’m not…” Pausing mid-sentence, Caroline pressed her fingers to her temples, wincing as she did. Having woken with a small headache, she’d taken some paracetamol and forgotten about it. It seemed to be worsening, an ever-present thumping pain at the forefront of her head.

“You good, Care?” Parker’s voice pulled her from her thoughts and she nodded quickly.

“FRIDAY, do you have Mo’s measurements?” The holographic screen the AI produced displayed a digital scan of the smallest Stark and allowed them to run the first mark of her suit.

“Baby come here a minute please?" Caroline summoned Morgan with a wince, the pain in her head almost unbearable.

Peter began to attach the nano-sensors to the girls skin. One on each temple, one on her back, and one on each hand. Sticky and cold, Morgan squealed playfully at the sensation. Once the sensors were attached, the doctor would be able to have the nanotech suit form around Morgan's frame, allowing her and Peter to adapt it and configure it as they saw fit. 

“It tickles!” The little girl giggled as the suit formed around her, but Caroline didn't hear her sister. Turned away from the younger Stark and Spider-Man with her head in her hands, she struggled to concentrate on her surroundings. Peter watched over Morgan, as did the AI who continued to monitor her vitals and the nanotech itself.

“Care?” Peter’s voice was soft as he spoke, excitement lacing his tone due to the progression of their project. When he didn't receive an answer, he turned to face her. "Caroline? Hey!” Still nothing.

Bouncing round to face her, he placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to gain a response.

“HEY! You need to lie down or something?” Snapping her head up at the sudden closeness of his voice, she forced a laugh and shook her head.

“No! Just a little headache.” The lie came easily; the 'little headache’ she was experiencing felt more like what one would expect to feel if they’d been hit in the head with Mjolnir. 

“If you pass out I’m not catching you." Though Peter’s words were playful, the look in his eyes was one of concern. After the two had cleared the air regarding her identity, they'd quickly formed a sibling-like relationship. In truth, he'd found a sister in both Stark girls. There was a sadness that lurked sometimes, knowing that they didn't come together as the family they were until after Tony died. Peter and Caroline visited him sometimes, together. They’d sit, leave flowers, and tell stories of their recent adventures. The team knew of their visits and would always know what they needed when they returned home. Caroline liked tea and quiet company, usually in the form of Bucky or Wanda. Peter tended to seek Morgan out straight away, needing the distraction minding a child would bring.

���Whatever, Parker.” Smiling at him despite the pain, she couldn’t help but bite at his words.

“Mo? How ya feeling?” The metal that covered the girls body was grey; they'd style it later, they'd been provided with very specific instructions in that department.

“I like it! Do I get lasers? And blasters? Or webs?!" The older Stark sister had thought of keeping the whole project a secret but figured it'd be something fun to do with Morgan. How she wished she’d kept it under wraps.

“I can do lasers. That's it.” Peter’s eyes grew wide at her words, the wink he received not doing a great deal for his nerves.

"Peter, can you help her out of the suit and upload the mark?” Caroline headed to the other side of the room where she’d been assembling a bracelet to store the sensors in. Morgan would wear it at all times, and whenever FRIDAY was alerted, she'd activate the bracelet, thus rendering Morgan a little safer.

Maximoff had designed the bracelet. With an eye for pretty things, she was far better suited for the task. All Caroline had to do was weave the sensors into the piece of jewellery and have Morgan promise not to take it off. Peter removed the sensor pads from Morgan's’s skin and handed them to Caroline to extract them. 

“What colours do you want?” Peter sat down with Morgan and let the girl play around with the colour features, allowing the doctor to concentrate.

Grabbing a pair of tweezers, Caroline squinted as she tried to remove the tiny pieces of tech. The pounding in her head seemed to worsen, her vision suddenly blurring. Reaching out to the desk in front of her, she grabbed on to try and steady herself, the room spinning around her.

“FRI?”

“Mr Parker, Miss Stark is in need of assistance.” It barely took him a second to leap to his feet.

“Contact Dr Cho, tell her to meet me in the med bay now.”

The colour had drained from Caroline’s face and her eyes were screwed shut by the time Peter reached her. 

“I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

She turned to Peter weakly and was about to respond when her vision blurred further, and her knees gave way. Unable to even brace herself for impact, she whimpered as fear shot through her. 

Peter never let her hit the ground, of course. Scooping the doctor into his arms, he scolded her softly for her refusal to take care of herself.

“C’mon, Care. Why’d you lie? Is it your head?” Peter fussed, but her only reply was a mumbled apology and a grimace.

“FRIDAY? Get Barnes there too? He’ll wanna see her. Come on Morgan, Caroline’s kinda sick so we need to take her to the med bay.” Morgan ran alongside the Avenger, giving her sister a once over before running off to find Helen.

“Doctor Cho! Caroline fell over!” Her voice echoed quietly through the halls as she ran off, Peter laughing at her childlike view of the situation. 

"You can't do this. I know it’s just a migraine or something, but we need you, ya know? An- and-“ sighing as he tripped over his words, the Parker boy grew frustrated "-and you can’t do this! Me and Morgan need you!” 

Cho was waiting, the med bay doors open for their arrival. Peter followed Helen's directions, laying her down where he was told to. Bucky was there, requesting a grown-up explanation of the situation; Morgan’s version not quite cutting it (although he'd never tell her that). The boy was visibly shaken but calmed significantly when Barnes sat with him a while, talking him down from his anxiety-ridden state.

Caroline whimpered in pain as Helen inserted a needle into the crook of her arm, but she quietened as the pain meds entered her bloodstream. Consciousness gave way to sleep as her brain grew heavier, and she didn’t fight it.

-

Eyes fluttered open but shut tightly when greeted with a bright light. A squeeze to her hand brought her attention to her right, where Bucky sat with a gentle smile on his face. No words were spoken, he simply kept his grip on her hand and returned to the book that lay in his lap.

“Caroline?” Parker's voice came from the left, her attention drifting there instead. “I’m glad you’re okay. I‘m sorry for snapping at you.” His words seemed to be filled with guilt, a guilt she didn't deem at all necessary.

With bright eyes - a little hazy from the medication - and a lazy smile, she reached out for his hand.

“I passed out and you caught me.”