emeraldbloodcrown

[emeraldbloodcrown]

ONCE MORE

Chapter: One - Not Easy Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Deciding to get a head start in cleaning up the bakery, you end up hitting up the hardware store and meet a handsome stranger, willing to help you out. Content/Warning: Word Count: 2.6

Days passed, with both of you crashing in your old room, switching between who got to take the too old bed and who had to make due with a mattress on the floor. All of your essentials were strewn around your old desk or were still in your backpacks while the rest of your belongings had taken temporary residency in a storage facility.

In the meantime, you had been able to call a cleaning company and get them to sweep through the shop, taking all of the items that had fallen victim to the fire and documenting the damage for insurance. The safety assessment had already happened before your grandmother had written you, so today would be the first day, you’d be able to work towards the renovation.

You were sitting on the mattress, waiting for Anna to finish in the adjacent bathroom, while scrolling on your phone. You heard her return before you saw her as every step she took was accompanied by a small sound of discomfort.

“How can that bed be more uncomfortable than the damn floor?”

Without looking up, you answered her. “Cause it wasn’t chosen for comfort but for the design.” For emphasis, you clapped twice, making the LED butterflies around the frame light up.

“Never would’ve expected a 16-year old you to be so cheesy.”

“Don’t be jealous”

Anna stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when her spine cracked back into place, and she plopped down next to you.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well we have someone coming to see if our electricity is intact, as well as check our plumbing, which wasn’t necessarily hit but since we have to renovate most everything, why not that too?”

Anna hummed.

“Grandma told me that the hardware store has some sort of sale today, so we should check that out and maybe get as much of what we’re gonna need as we can get.”

“Alright, you wanna do that? I can stay and be with the workers.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Making a small detour to get yourself a quick breakfast on the way, after having to swear to your grandmother for the umpteenth time to only visit the family shops and ’not any of the fast-paced run of the mill stores that seemed to pop up everywhere’, you drove to the hardware store.

You still remembered it, having already existed for a long time before you were born but what had once been a small company with only a handful of employees, most of them related to each other, had expanded into a three story tall store.

When your grandmother had told you about needing your help with restoring her shop, you had anticipated that, until it got to the point of baking and selling, you’d be very out of your depth. Building had always been your grandfather’s thing, not something you held a lot of interest in, not that you would’ve been allowed to indulge in it if you had.

A part of you still recalled the look he had given you when you had needed a chisel for a school project and, not knowing the name for it, had just called it the ‘thing for wood stabbing’. An accurate description, you found, but he had not been amused.

So it wasn’t like you thought you would just wing it, but seeing the sheer size, and therefore implied variety in options, made you wonder if your original assessment of doing it yourself with the help of some friends and intense tutorials on YouTube wouldn’t just turn out to be very wishful thinking.

Still you decided to park your car and after minutes of circling the parking lot, you found a free spot quite a bit away out of the entrance. The sale had brought out more customers, you were sure, but you wondered just how well this shop was doing.

Grabbing a cart, you were still staring at the massive store, not watching where you were going and were suddenly taken out of your daydreaming when you stumbled into someone.

Losing your balance, you arm shot out to grab the pillar next to you to save you the landing on concrete, when at the same time the person grabbed your other arm, steadying you. Bitterly a part of you noticed, how he was completely unfazed by you bumping into him. He could’ve at least swayed a little out of politeness.

Apology and thanks already at the tip of your tongue, it remained exactly there when you took a look at the stranger.

At first glance, all you could think about was how handsome he looked, not quite sure if his rugged features was adding to that or if nothing could distract from and ruin his appearance.

He was wearing boots with dark jeans, both having seen better days, as they showed clear signs of wear and tear, as well as several paint blotches, with the jeans also having been haphazardly patched up.

Hoodie and coat were in the same condition, and you wondered if this was his usual attire for working.

Finally making it up to his face, you noticed his long hair, which peaked out underneath the beanie on top of his head, almost reaching his shoulders and curling around his neck. It seemed less of a fashion choice and more like he had just chosen to let his hair grow wild, which was only proven by the state of his beard. Full and long but also very unkempt.

Where you could see skin, he seemed to have strong feature, sharp jaw line only partially hidden but coming full force around his cheeks and brow. He looked wild, edging on dangerous but any fear his features might have caused were forgotten when you looked into his.

Blue.

Stunning and deep, and so very kind. There were little stress lines around them, accompanied by the darkness and bags underneath.

All in all, he looked rough, the kind you’d be polite to but keep a safe distance to. He looked like he had been dealt some shitty cards by life lately but despite it all, you couldn’t help but stare and think how beautiful those eyes of his were.

“Luv?”

And apparently he had also been blessed with an unfairly attractive voice.

In your daze, you only managed to reply with a dumbfounded: “Huh?”

Embarrassment flooded your system as soon as the words had left your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line, before you tried to save some grace.

“Sorry, what was that?”

His hand on your arm tightened for a moment, only until he was sure you could keep your balance on your own, and then he let you go. You might not have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for you missing his warmth immediately, and the utter confusion at yourself that followed.

Alright. You made a mental note to check Tinder for any local hookups, if you were that touch starved that a stranger could cause such a reaction you were in more of a need for a good fuck than you had assumed.

“Was jus’ askin’ if you were alright. Didn’t get hurt?”

“I bumped into you. Should probably ask you that instead.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, making the lines around his eyes crinkle, giving his eyes a softer edge now.

“Takes a lot more than a pretty bird to send me tumblin’.”

You know it was meant to be a good-hearted joke, nothing serious but you still flushed a little and even he seemed taken aback by his words.

He cleared his throat, “So not hurt, right?”

Noticing the sudden awkwardness, you chose to simply hum in agreement and give him a little wave when you parted ways.

Except you didn’t, because as it turned out, you weren’t just heading to the same store but remaining on the same floor and even going to the same aisle. He looked over his shoulders, probably to make sure you weren’t some weird stalker but when he did, your eyes weren’t even on him.

Instead you looked up at the daunting and overwhelming variations of floor coatings, with more than half of them looking nearly indistinguishable to your very uninitiated eyes.

You looked and felt out of your depth and helpless, trying to figure out what the differences were, when your stranger took pity on you.

“First time?”

You heaved a sigh, “That obvious, huh?”

“‘fraid so. You want some help?”

You took a look at him but didn’t answer yet. Even in his kindness, he looked tired and you had a feeling that he would appreciate you rejecting his polite offer, but the chances of you faring without him were so thin, and with so many customers coming in for the sale, you doubted an employee would have enough time for you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“My grandma will have my head for this but I fear I’m gonna need it.”

He smiled again and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often and making a mental note to try it for however long he was gonna help you.

“No beheading today. It’s no bother. What do you need?”

He closed the distance between you and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Pulling up the shopping list you had made beforehand, you turned your phone for him to see. His finger quickly scrolling over the display to see the length of the list before leading you to the first stop.

“I’m John, by the way.”

John turned out to be a saint, patiently explaining to you what each option he presented to you for each item on your list was for and what you needed to look out for when installing it.

“Pretty big project for a beginner.”

“Not by choice. My grandpa was the handyman in our family but I can’t really ask him, and actually calling in a service has always left me with outrageous bills. ‘Course I didn’t think I could just wing it, but last I was here this shop was much smaller.”

He hummed, taking one more glance at your phone before showing you another selection to choose from.

“Lived here before?”

“Yeah, grew up here for the most part actually.”

“Glad to be back?”

“For the most part, I guess. Not too sure just yet.”

John finished by putting the final piece into your cart, giving you a polite smile.

“Well, good luck to you.”

He turned on his heel but you stopped him as just letting him leave wasn’t sitting right by you.

“I know you said, it’s no bother but let me make it up to you.”

There was a moment where you looked at each other, both of you with crossed arms over your chest, trying to gauge who would give into the other first but John must’ve seen something in your eyes because he huffed a little before answering you.

“Alright, luv. Just give me a ring and I’m all yours.” He pulled a small notepad from one of his many coat pockets and quickly scribbled his number on it before handing it to you.

After he left you, you finally allowed you to smile at the weird encounter. That definitely hadn’t been on your schedule but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Taking your cart, you pushed it towards check-out, bracing yourself for the next hurdle: actually paying for the many things in it.

There had been an easiness in John’s limbs as he got out of the shop, his lips almost humming as he got into the car and he caught himself tapping along the steering wheel but the closer he got to his destination, he felt the weight return, as if his bone marrow had turned into cement, dragging him down with every movement.

For a moment, he remained in his car after he parked, listening to the sounds around him and hoping against his better judgement to hear the familiar tunes, smell that scent of her baking, but of course there was nothing.

So he got out, grabbed his purchases and walked into his house. A house that was now solely his, despite the fact that it had been built for a family, for an ours. For her, by him.

The house was musty, needed to be aired and properly cleaned. John knew that if she could see the state it was in, she would throw a fit, tear him a new one for ever letting it come to this.

‘You gotta take care of our home’, she’d say, usually with a whisk in her hand, more often than not making her cinnamon apple buns, the very thing she brought him after their first date when he’d told he hated sweets and she’d told him, he’d love hers.

(She had been right.)

But that was just the thing. For her, their home had been their garden, the reading nook he’d built, the many pictures of their lives and all of the other finer things she had insisted on. For him, she had been his home, and with her gone, he couldn’t find it in him to care, partially hoping that the mess would call out to her and bring her back, even if he couldn’t.

Instead he had taken to disappearing in his work shed for hours on end, working on smaller and bigger projects, anything to take his mind of things. The only break of that routine was the daily phone call from Kate.

He answered her questions more on autopilot, but she hadn’t called him out for it yet so he counted his peaceful days for as long as he could, until she would inevitably drag him back to work to relieve Simon from doing his own and John’s job.

Almost, as if on cue, his phone rang, showing Kate’s number and he answered. He had the practiced replies ready for her but she finally asked him about what he had been doing, the words froze on the tip of his tongue, melted into liquid and got swallowed with saliva, as he surprised both Kate and himself by what he actually told he.

“I met someone today.”

“So what’s the verdict?”

Anna had come outside of the shop as soon as she saw your car pull up and had helped you with bringing your purchases inside. Afterwards, you had both grabbed a quick dinner, settling down on the ground while discussing your plans for the next step, also giving you a chance to check in with the results of her day.

“Well, thankfully it’s not really a must/red light situation and more a might as well/yellow situation. Both teams said that our electricity and water is working fine but that it’s gonna need some work soon, and since we’re already doing everything else, we might wanna look into that too.”

“That can’t be cheap…”

“Nope, but we should definitely be safe for at least a month or two. I mean, we did account for a lot of repairs.”

Taking a bite, you pointed at one of the papers next to her, the bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the service bills.

“What’s that?”

Following the direction of your finger, she pulled it out and showed it to you.

It was a flyer advertising an autumn festival, promising lots of foods, a show and some dancing.

“Didn’t take you for the type to go to these.”

Anna scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m not. But lots of the town’s people will probably be there.”

“And?” You prompted her to continue, not quite getting her point.

“And, your grandmother made such a fuss about community, not just from what you told me about her but also from all the times she reminded us to go to family shops instead of any of the new coffee shops or fast food restaurant. Would be a good way to get to know the people, maybe we’ll meet someone who can help us.”

#crown writes #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

I think there’s something so deeply and intimately and morbidly true about The Last of Us’s primary thesis which is that humanity’s fatal flaw, in that very Shakespearian way, is that we are destined to care too much about one another so much so that we discard the collective entirely. like we have such a capacity to love the human race and humanity as a whole, to grow our communities and govern cities how we know best and foster such connection with the masses which we are part of, but it’s overtaken by our capacity to love even just a single other person. like one human can come into your life that creates such an intrinsic and passionate love in you— or maybe two people or a family’s worth or any small number— and you suddenly would burn entire villages down just to keep them safe.

joel doesn’t blink twice murdering to find ellie. he doesn’t look back when he decides to do what he does at the hospital later on. he has no remorse about any of it it, because this one girl has grown to mean more to him than any possible greater good could ever mean. and it’s reciprocal. ellie would— and does— do anything she can to help him, save him, protect him, and, eventually, to avenge him. because that’s what you do when you love someone. not when you love people. when you love someone.

and it’s selfish, in a way??? because we love these people and would do so much for them because they mean more to us than other strangers do. it’s exactly like an iteration of the trolley problem, actually. one track has your daughter on it and one track has fifty people. don’t even try telling me you wouldn’t go onto track B if it meant saving your daughter and her puppy dog eyes from the whimpering and pain and fear. The Last of Us says yes, you would. I would. we all would. and like yeah that is our greatest weakness, that we have such a unique ability to love a handful of people so deeply that our compassion towards community and strangers and the bigger collective starts to slip from view. but goddamn what a fucking great fatal flaw it is to have. we are all going to die and the world will burn because we loved another person too much.

[emeraldbloodcrown]

daydreaming about writing: 🥰😍🥹❤️😊🌺✨😘

the act of actually writing: 😭😰😵‍💫😭😰😭☹️😖

[emeraldbloodcrown]

writers and artists will go "this isn't good enough." my brother in christ, you're creating something new out of nothing and expressing yourself creatively. your productivity and unrealistic standards of perfection do not define you or the worth of your art. you're doing great.

[emeraldbloodcrown]

i wanna write a series of stand alones between soap and his wife, where their entire thing is that they should not work.

johnny is someone who is always quick to jump to action, he falls head over heels in love with someone five times a months, his friends have long stopped bothering to learn the names of his current obssession because as he quickly as they came, they also disappeared, long forgotten by the time johnny came back from his next deployment.

and you should've been just one of many but for some reason when you spent a week with johnny in some hotel and he proposed to you. like actually. it should've made you run for the hills like everyone who had any fucking sense about them; sure you had fun with him, sure you might even like him beyond his body but the fact stood that you didn't know each other - but for some reason, you said yes.

had a shotgun wedding, some more days in a hotel to serve as your honeymoon and then you both went back to your lives, ring on your finger and long-distance spouse in your pocket.

both of your circles expected you to not even make it to a divorce, but to end it so quickly, it was still an annulment, but it just never happened because the thing was where johnny was a reckless whirlwind, you were a steadfast risktaker.

whenever you both hit a bump that made him falter, you were there to support him. when you got dragged down, he was there to offer you more perspective.

you both took a risk when you said yes but just like he had said when he proposed, he could die any day, you could die any day despite not being military, life was cruel and whatever it was between you two was good and deserved to be explored with hesitation.

after all, who dares wins, right?

#crown mumbles #cod mw2 #cod x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

this blog is brought to u by someone unmedicated

[emeraldbloodcrown]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[emeraldbloodcrown]

ONCE MORE

Chapter: Prologue - Nostalgic Fires Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You arrive in your hometown after over ten years of being gone, jobless but with your best friend and a letter from your grandmother asking for your help. Content/Warning: Don't think any yet. Lots of talk about a better past, unfair treatment at work and having someone's life work destroyed by a fire Word Count: 3k+

Childhoods had a way of making our past seem magical, both secluded and free-ranging, like finding an entire world hidden in your backyard. It seemed so colorful, so joyous, that the adult life you had been anticipating so much at the time, had no chance but to feel bleak and grey next to it.

You assume that it was like that for everyone but it still felt more so for you. Growing up had felt so much more fulfilling than anyhting after your 16th birthday, and it wasn't just due to being a child. No, your grandmother had a big part in that.

The one thing you remembered the most about her was how hardworking she had been through all of your time with her but she had never been unkind towards you or rejected your need for attention. No matter how busy she got, she would simply dust off her flour covered hands on her apron, bent down and lift you up with a smile, telling you off what she was preparing and how she was doing it.

Or she would sit you on the counter behind the display of her delicious smelling goods, while she chatted with her customers, often using you to charm them into buying more than they had planned to, and her sneaking you a Brezel or a muffin as thanks.

When you got older, she let you help her in the kitchen while you talked her ear off about whatever you liked, her humming occassionally but when you felt unheard and stopped, to which she always said the same thing.

'Now don't get shy on me, dear, keep talking.'

Often being able to ask you a question about a specific detail, surprising you when you had been so sure, she was too busy with her own tasks to listen to you at all.

You loved being with her, loved the hard work she shared with you and with what ease she was able to pull it off; her smile ever present on her red-painted lips, with a happy tune falling from them.

As a child, she looked breath-taking to you.

As an adult, she looked downright impossible.

You couldn't recall a single day she was not wearing an luxury suit or dress with heels and expensive jewelry, makup on her face and her hair in an extravagant updo. She was stunning every day, but her work demanded she be on her feet for long hours, so everything about her, seemed so impractical now.

Of course, some people say that they feel more comfortable in heels, especially after years of use, and while you liked to wear them too, no money on this world could ever make you wear them to work, so you were especially glad that you also weren't allowed to wear them.

After your 16th birthday, your grandmother and her bakery had only been a distant memory. Your parents choosing to exchange the quiet and homey small town life for the big city, bustling with people and always so busy.

The change was drastic and even after all these years, felt a little traumatic: to be ripped away from your home, from your friends and familiar circles, being forced to start new and find a place among strangers who have known each other for years.

It was hard and you still felt a little bitter that you weren't allowed to stay the year and couple months it would've taken for you to graduate with your friends. But as much as you disliked it at first, being in the city offered you an easy way into your adult life, finding your place as a worker and after some struggling lead you to what would be your job for the foreseeable future.

Three short but also long and hard years later, you're employed as a nurse for elderly, certificate under your belt, new best friend from your training by your side, and ready to provide for your residents as best as you could.

But the excitement and vigor you had started your job with, soon fizzled out, killed off by the reality of what seemed to be expected by everyone working in that particular nursing home.

Sure, treating patients was always a hard, often very thankless, job but checking in with your former classmates proved that your facility was eager to take the cake.

The staff crisis, that had already existed when you and Anna got hired, had only gotten worse and resulted in quality and nursing management almost begging you to make the impossible choice of either leaving your colleague alone for a full night shift or going against the law and covering when you've already been working more than half of the late shift of the same day.

With that crisis, naturally, also come the vicious cycle of the few people they had on staff being severely overworked. That made them more prone to accidents or falling ill, which added onto the stress of nurses needing to cover the shifts of the sick person, of management trying to keep the ship afloat, and of residents who grew unsatisfied because they didn't receive the care they paid so much of their hard-earned money for. Not to mention that the sick person often had to deal with some backlash and the accusations of whether or not they really had it as bad as they said.

All of that fostered a horrible environment, which brought you and Anna to make a pact one night after too many wines: both of you would be checking in with each other when either one of you was stressed, using 1 - 10 to gauge the severity, and as long as one of you was alright, the other would be supportive. But should both of you arrive at a 10, you'd immediately go looking for a new job.

Now there had been many occassions where you both were angry enough to throw the towel but that was mostly blowing off steam than being serious about it. Until, after 7 years of working in this 'hell hole', as Anna called it, you got serious.

Coming to work, both of you had already been chewed out for things beyond your control: Anna for not treating a resident who vehemently, and often violently, denied the care, and you for trusting that colleagues twice your age were doing their jobs right and didn't need to be supervised.

And it only got worse from then on.

To Anna's already high work load, came several more tasks; predominately tasks that routinely had been the early shift's responsibility and now all of a sudden were demanded to be done by her and finished in this shift, if she didn't want to face repercussions.

While you were greeted with a bunch of paper work, most so poorly documentated that you had to hunt down residents and family to actually get an idea of what happened, chaining you to the computer and growing increasingly frustrated with your colleagues for letting you walk into the knives of management and relatives because, apparently, they had been told that you were in charge of these things all along, when you were just the idiot picking up after them.

By the time, Anna came to the office, her scrubs were clinging to her body, both from water and sweat, her face was flushed and her hair a mess from all the times she must've run her fingers through - a nervous habit she never could stop when she was stressed.

On the other hand, you were surrounded by all of your resident's medication, checking to see if it all was up to date with their plan. Which was something that should've happened weeks ago but got pushed because it was boring work, until it hit you to get it done before the inspection in two days.

So when Anna came to you, you were sitting on the floor, plans and medication, both valid and expired, caging you in, cussing harshly under your breath as you tried to get control of the situation.

She watched you for a moment, exhaustion delaying her thinking before she snapped out of her perplexion.

"I need a check-in."

"Huh?" You questioned brashly, too caught up in your thoughts before your brain actually understood what she had said, and your angry expression sobered up. You put the papers to the side and turned to her, giving her your full attention.

"Alright. On three. One. Two. Three."

"Ten"

"Ten"

Registering what you both had said, you looked at each other with a mixture of shock and sorrow. Seven years of hard work, of enduring things, and taking care of people who didn't want your help. But also seven years of improving or maintaining life quality, of presents from relatives to somehow show their gratitude after their loved ones' passing, and of residents treating and caring for you like family.

There had been so many days that had made every bad one seem worth, but lately they had become a rarity. The stress you took each shift too great to be relieved after work or good sleep and going to work had your steps filled with doom, instead of the purpose and pride they had when you both started.

"So it's time?" Anna asked, her voice too timid for her usual demeanor. You both knew this day would come but to see it arrive, see it drop down onto your conscious with its heavy finality and seal this chapter of your lives? That was something else.

You took a shaky breath, casting your eyes down to your hands, a small tremor in them.

"I guess so.."

"And what now?"

Yeah, what now, indeed.

The answer came faster than you had expected. As loving as your upbringing with your grandmother had been, with your parents taking you to the big city and their divorce that followed soon after, the contact to your grandmother slowed immensely until it fully stopped just a couple years ago.

The more surprising it was for her to reach out all of a sudden, asking for your help after a fire had claimed most of her pride and joy, and she needed your help trying to get it back to its former glory so it could be sold before her body gave out on her.

You felt like there was more to it, asking so directly for your help didn't sound like her but it seemed only right, with your and Anna's notice signed and sent to the personell manager, to take this change of scenery and see what it's all about.

With as hectic as your work had been lately, you had only been able to spend money on your essentials, leaving you with some savings. Not enough to last for a long time, but enough so that you didn't immediately have to go job hunting but could take a little while to recharge.

Once your colleagues heard about what you had done, they grace you both with the reaction you had expected: a little bit of guilt tripping, some manipulation to get you both to stay and ultimately with a heavy dose of superiority once they found out what your plan was, as if you’d fail and crawl back to them within the next month.

Actually leaving your key and name tag, like you had wanted to so many times, was freeing, saying goodbye to your residents less so, but you tried to focus on what was ahead of you.

Spending some time back home would do you good, as would seeing your grandmother. After her initial letter, you had written her back, still adamant about not needing a phone, and told her about your plans to come visit with Anna, and her response had been ecstatic.

The drive had been largely uneventful, both of you deciding to take the scenic route, turning it into a road trip and making a few memories along the way, safely stored away in your phone.

Coming back after more than a decade felt weird. Closer to a deja-vu than an actual memory. There were several corners that you still remembered like the back of your hand, but then there were others, which felt familiar, but they had changed so much over the years, they were unrecognizable.

And the worst offender for that was your grandmother's bakery. You hadn't expected it to resemble your memories at all, knowing that most of it had probably fallen victim to the fire's destruction but even those parts that had remained untouched, looked like they had been victim to the decay of time.

Instead of feeling broken nostalgia, you were filled sorrow and sadness. A part of you wishing you had stayed all those years ago, when you knew full well, it had never been your decision from the start.

You heard repeated clacking behind you, recognizing the familiar melody of your grandmother's steps after all these years, and they put an involuntary smile on your lips.

Turning around, ready to hug her, you faltered in your step when you took her appearance in. She was still the tall and proud woman from your memories but it was terrifying to see how much her age had caught up to her.

She had a wrinkly, boney hand clasped around a cane you would've bet money on wasn't hers. It looked too ordinary, too run of the mill for your grandmother's extravagant tastes. Not to mention, that she hardly used it as a walking aid, the way she put her body on it, more akin to a crutch.

Her face was papery, devoid of any color despite her use of makeup, with sunken in eyes and sharp cheeks that could only be explained by an insufficient diet. Which was only supported by the clothes, several price tags too cheap for what she used to wear, hanging limply off her shoulders and her elbows seemingly poking out of her skin.

“What happened here?” You asked, fully meaning her state but if your grandmother was aware of that, she chose to ignore it.

She heaved a heavy sigh, her eyes turning distant. “Life, I reckon. People are so busy now, a place like this is not meant for that. And I'm not getting any younger, complaints started to pile up, and,” she paused for a moment and you instinctively knew there was something she wasn’t saying, “it’s in the past now.”

Watching her stuttering motion as she took the couple steps towards you and Anna, you had to keep the nurse inside of you on a short leash, wanting to call for a wheelchair just in case, as you felt the same caution clutch your heart your accident prone residents did. Sharing a look with Anna, you knew she felt the same way.

Your grandmother pulled out the keys, the little muffin pendant reflecting in the sunlight as she put them in your palm with a tremor in her hands.

“The door’s pretty tricky, so it’s best one of you tries,” she said, acknowledging Anna for the first time and giving her an exhausted smile.

You had to use quite a bit of force to get the key to turn fully and throw your weight against the door for it to open. The smell from burnt wood was still in the air as you and Anna walked in, turning to get an idea of how big the damage was.

"Do you know how it started?"

Your grandmother flinched, too caught up in her thoughts as she looked at her shop with sad eyes. For years, she had been able to keep this dream of hers a well-lived reality, but now it had all been ripped away from her in an instance.

"Apparently, I had the stove on when I left some papers on it…"

Even without looking at her, you heard the pain and confusion in her voice. You knew that she didn't believe that, and surely, it didn't sound like the person your grandmother was. Or rather, the person she once was.

If your line of work had told you anything, it was that age had a habit to either be your constant companion, resulting in people being able to age 'with grace', or it sneaked up on them, leaving them clear-headed for a very long time until it slammed into them, and seemingly sudden, things that were no problem just a few weeks ago, had now gotten impossible.

The latter could very well be the case for her. She was an old woman, who had been married to her work more than to her husband all her life, and most likely was very lonely whenever she wasn't at the bakery. These bouts of forgetfulness could be a result of that.

But whatever it was, you doubt she would be able to rest easy, knowing how she had lost her pride and joy, so restoring the bakery was among your top priorities now.

"Don't worry," you said as you held your grandmother's frail hand, squeezing them gently, "we make it good again, okay?"

The sadness left your grandmother's face for the first time and even her body seemed to straighten by the positivity in your words as she returned your action.

"I know, love. Never doubted you. I'm just sorry I had to bother you both, I know how busy you two are."

A white lie already on your lips, Anna beat you in her attempt to reassure her: "Oh don't you worry, we quit anyway."

Noticing your glare, she quickly realized what she had done and slapped a hand over her mouth but it was too late. Your grandmother pinched the skin of your hand as she threw an unimpressed look at you.

"We talk about that later"

You nodded to her parting words and watched her slowly make her way back to her own house down the street, before you punched Anna in the shoulder.

"Thanks for that."

"I didn't know!"

Rolling your eyes, you looked back at the charred remains of the bakery, and your task for the foreseeable future. Still rubbing her arm, Anna joined you and asked the most important question:

"Where should we start?"

#crown writes #call of duty #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

What's your opinion on the recent taboo fanfic and topic going on in the fandom?

I am personally a big supporter of “if you don’t like it, don’t read it”. Not every ounce of content created is done so with every single person in mind. There are fics out there that will not appeal to you and the best thing to do is simply move on. It’s fan fiction - meaning the content is not real and true.

I have not read the fic in question but from what I understand, the characters are two consenting adults. It is exploring a specific dynamic that may not be for everyone. If you don’t like it, don’t read it and don’t get on your moral high horse thinking you’re better than everyone for not liking it. While not the current topic of debate, noncon and dubcon fics with adult characters also exist and it is important to remember that writing or reading such fics does not mean they condone it in real life.

Adjacent to this issue is the age old topic of tagging your fics appropriately. It’s extremely important that you give the audience the opportunity to make an informed decision of what they are about to read.

[emeraldbloodcrown]

mdni//ageless dni - 18+ content ahead

ya know those scenarios where one of the 141 has a pretty partner and it's either John or Simon showing them how to properly fuck you?

that but instead your john's wife and johnny and kyle show him how fun experimenting in the bedroom can be.

not to say your husband fucks you badly or leaves you unsatisfied? not at fucking all. but he's very pragmatic or too into you to bother with anyhting fancy. no, with john, it's like four to five different positions, which he has down to an art, along with mind-blowing foreplay and never stopping until he hasn't wrung out at least five orgasms from you.

but he also thinks toys or accessories are just a waste of money and not something he needs to satisfy you or himself. and he's right, he doesn't need them, the same way no one needs to go out dining when they can just cook food at home. it's not necessary, but it sure is fun.

and that's where kyle and johnny come in. kyle who has an entire arsenal of knowledge, be that the kink scene or anything else he can use to make his partner see stars, and johnny who is an absolute glutton when it comes to toys and jumps on any chance he can use them to break someone in.

so when they find out that both you and john are essentially virgins in that regard, dear god, they don't leave anything untried to get their hands on both of you.

and they're not gonna stop until your both two fucked out messes, edged beyond belief until you were finally allowed to cum, with several new kinks unlocked.

#crown mumbles #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

damn i'm honestly pretty overwhelmed, in a positive way ofc, by how many of you voted on my little poll. so a massive thank you for that <3

i already got a little outline for the first chapter so it should be out by this weekend, hopefully.

again, thank you all!

so i wanna ease back into writing some longer things again, and i wanna do that by writing a poly!141 story where the poll would decide in which direction the story goes,

#crown mumbles #can you tell im a little speechless??

[emeraldbloodcrown]

i'm thinking of an alpha 141, with price and simon being you stereotypical alphas, while johnny and kyle might be mistaken for betas - until you piss them off and then even price and simon struggle to hold them back.

they're all alphas but they're also all part of the same pack, which wasn't planned by either of them but it's not unheard of for that to happen in a task force as close knit as the 141. it's their bread and butter to go into the most dangerous situations, to protect one another, to take bullets or knifes for the others; they're the only ones who can actually understand the depth of the trauma each of them is going through.

of course they'd bond together and form a pack. but they're all also alphas. alphas with a desperate wish to mate and breed, and they can't do that with each other, they need an omega for that. but an omega who not only accepts and respects their weird pack dynamic but actively wants that? unheard of, chances so slim they were non-existent.

but so were the chances of simon crawling out of that grave or johnny recovering from that shot to the head.

and they did find one, someone who loved all four of them, someone who wanted to be their mate and give them a child. a beautiful little girl, who somehow seemed to share all of their appearances. and it was perfect.

until it wasn't. until these alphas had to gravel with the situation that their omega was gone, mating bond ripped apart, and their little girl screaming her lungs out. so used to the omega's scent, which after months of trying their best was now fully gone, that it put her in severe distress for weeks on end, leaving not only her but her fathers restless.

and then there's you, their newly moved in neighbor, they only knew their name from their landlord when they came back from their latest mission, knocking and looking just as stressed as them.

price had opened the door for you, chest puffed and ready to tear you apart for coming at his pack but you were calm..exhausted beyond belief, of course, but understanding and most of all concerned for their girl..

"all that screaming can't be healthy for her either"

you had a small container with you, a remedy from your great-grandmother, all herbal so as not to offend her nose, that needs to be rubbed into her chest before bed.

"i'll just leave it here, maybe it helps"

johnny, always the perceptive one, will forever remember how you smiled sadly at their daughter, how your fingers seemed to itch towards her before you remembered your place and just left.

they would soon find out that you were an utter blessing, kind to the bone and so unbelievably considerate. the ointment worked wonders and for the first time in over a month, they saw their daughter smile again and each other finally relax.

and from that point on, johnny was gone, absolutely enamored by you and always jumping at the chance to invite you into their circles, knowing full well the others were much more hesitant, the pain and trauma from their omega abandoning them still stiff in their bones.

but they'd see what he already saw, and it was like you wanted to prove him right when you found out about what happened to their omega, to the one among them that should be bonded the closest to their little girl but was still able to just leave.

you clenched your fingers so tight he was almost afraid you'd break something, the muscles in your neck tightened and you downright snarled, nostrils flared and lip pulled back.

"is...is that normal? her screaming like that for weeks on end? is that likely to happen with something like this?"

the air in the room tensed, charged, similar to before a storm, and it answered all of their suspicion, when they gave you the answer that yes, it was normal - and it audibly cracked around you, like thunder striking, and you had to take a deep breath, mumbling in an old language to let your environment not be influenced by your emotions, lest you hurt or scare any of them.

"you're a witch"

and damn, it should terrify him, witches and shifters don't mix well but all he can think of is that he was right, you were perfect for them, your protectiveness of their daughter only outmatched by them, and if johnny hadn't already made up his mind, hadn't already talked it through with his pack, this would definitely solidify it:

witch or not, you were theirs and mark or not, they'd never let you leave again.

#crown mumbles #i have a distinct idea with this #can you see it?? #cod mw2 #cod x reader #141 x reader #poly 141 #john price #john price x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

I’m rewatching tlou and I just realized Sarah dies before Joel manages to fulfill his promise of buying that cake

#crown mumbles #I can just imagine him weeks later #realizing that and being gutted by how ‚often‘ he disappointed his little girl #and that in the end he neither got her the cake #nor was able to protect her #the last of us #tlou hbo #sarah miller #joel miller

[emeraldbloodcrown]

Price and Johnny who have a crush on the same person, a pretty thing who seemed to naturally drift to the Scotsman. You shared his recklessness and found a similar joy in big explosions as him, but where he was handsome, you were beautiful. Where he was loud, you listened. It wasn't just that you liked each other, it seemed like you and him were woven from the same material, two art pieces mirroring each other and just waiting to find the other again, coming home to them again.

and in his case, John could only count all of the differences between you and him. You'd probably find him too strict, not enough fun. You'd only be able to count wrinkles whereas he could count freckles on your skin. You'd find him too quiet, probably too boring, after a while, too.

not to mention, you'd probably find him too old. John knew he wasn't old, by any stretch of the mean, but when he heard you and Johnny talk, he couldn't help but notice that eleven years are a long time and that people just want different things in their mid-twenties, compared to their later thirties.

John knew he'd never make a move on you, content on getting drunk off your laughter (and ignoring that it was Johnny who brought you joy), filing away every little piece of information he overheard in passing, and knowing full well that, if your relationship to Soap kept on going like this, he'd sooner than later get one of you's resignation from the 141 along with a wedding invite.

he knew he'd never make a move, and yet, he couldn't help himself from wishing that, just once, you'd swallow the second syllable, that once, your attention was on him instead of Johnny.

because if it was, if you'd just spare him an ounce of what Johnny received from you daily, you'd find a starving man praying at your altar, he'd be untouchable from all enemies because how can a flesh wound or broken bones stand a chance against the healing warmth of your skin on his.

because if you did, you wouldn't just find him having a crush on you, but being utterly in love with you.

#crown mumbles #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #john price #john price x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

Another sweet sweet price thot💋

Okay but let’s talk about Mountain man Price. He retired a few years ago and decided he much prefers the solitude of the beautiful mountains, with the tips of them all covered in snow. He likes the quiet, knowing he won’t run into anyone here. No one from the little town at the bottom of the mountains would be brave enough to hike the mountain trail.

He remembers the day he built his nice log cabin with the help of his trusty lieutenant of course. Simon helped his Captain one last time, before parting ways. Price wanted to be alone, after everything he’d experienced in the military, he wanted it to be just himself and the weather to keep him company.

He’d have the survival skills no doubt about it, but the more time he spent up there the more his social skills began to fade away. He’d have to come down every six months or so to restock his food, he make his trip down the hike trail to the little town at the bottom of the mountains and through the woods.

But the shop workers weren’t his biggest fans. He’d practically clear them out of their stock, the poor little local shop. They didn’t like his attitude either, found him strange and unapproachable. Though that’s exactly what John was going for. The less people that spoke to him, the better.

Until he met you of course.

It was only your second week at your new job, you’d just moved to the little town around a month ago and this was the only job available after some woman called Darlene went of maternity leave.

My gosh the way you’d be so nice to him having no idea the stigma that surrounded him and how suprised he’d be at the kindness you showed him. He’d actually look forward to coming down to the town.

He’d come more often as well, saying he’d ran out of supplies and yet he’d only buy a bag of fruit or some meat. Then he’d start to tidy up his appearance too, trim his over grown beard and moustache back to its former glory. The blush that would spread across your cheeks the first time you see him like that.

Hair trimmed too, you’d be able to see his perfect lips and crooked smile. It provoked a feeling in you that you’d long forgotten. Slowly but surely he’d start trying to flirt. Trying. Though you found it endearing how bad he was at it. Finally though he’d succeeded asking you out on a date and fuck the moment he’d turn up in his dark blue jeans, black shirt and dark brown leather jacket and boots. You swooned.

He had the charm turned on, especially after his phone call with his ex team. They could all hear how nervous their former captain was for this date. It made them very intrigued to meet you one day.

John didn’t miss a beat, almost as if he’d laid this date out like a mission. Going step by step to win your heart. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt, made you smile until your cheeks ached. Ordered the food and drinks impressively, no umming or stuttering.

He gave you butterflies when he reached over the table to grab your hand in his larger one. The skin was rough and calloused, but it felt amazing against your hand. He loved how soft your skin felt against his. He traced around the palm of your hand with his thick index finger, those gorgeous ocean eyes gazing into your soul.

After dinner, John took you to a local bar that you were pleasantly surprised with. A few drinks later you tipsily confessed how handsome you thought he was. The longer the evening went on, the more longing looks and teasing touches were shared.

The evening ended with the two of you slow dancing until last call. The way your bodies pressed together, the intimacy and warmth. The way he’d always make eye contact, almost as if he was trying to read you. The way he held you so tender yet tight, his large hands on your body. It all just felt so right.

John walked you home, looking so sad when it was time to part ways. “Please, let’s do this again sweetheart.” When your manager Billy had called you that, it made you feel sick. Had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, disgust shivering down your body. But when John said it, damn. Your body shivered in delight, the deep mumble entangled with that delicious accent of his made you gulp back a lump in your throat. You swear your underwear was a little wet too.

You nodded leaning forward to kiss his cheek goodnight, John was quick to take your cheeks into his hands and press his wanting lips against yours. He was hungry and almost vicious when he kissed you, it made you wonder what kind of lover he was like as he pressed you against your front door and kissed you like he’d never get the chance again.

[emeraldbloodcrown]

Y/n: Momma didn’t raise no bitch.

Spencer: Actually your mother didn’t raise you at all.

Y/n: Okay, well, I know that, but not the point!

[emeraldbloodcrown]

how about... two soap mactavishs?? both subs, playful and whiney.