#I'm going to be a legal adult very soon

[the-mehlwurm]

I am home alone right now

[cuntwrap--supreme]

My dog has been having senior moments, such as randomly forgetting what she's doing or trying to walk into a street, and I've been calling her "Mr. President" when it happens.

Like, "No, Mr. President, we can't walk into oncoming traffic. That's how we get killed!"

[sturniolohouse]

Anniversary in the Cape - M.S

A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)

summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk

word count: 5.8k

song: stargazing - the neighborhood

'started with a spark, now we're on fire'

"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.

"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.

"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.

"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.

"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.

"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.

Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.

It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.

Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating. 

But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.

"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.

"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand. 

"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.

We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville. 

"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.

His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently. 

"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road. 

"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming. 

"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.

He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.

This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.  

The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.

We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer. 

"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.

Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.

I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.

"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.

I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.

"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.

As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.

The house is small and charming.

It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.

I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.

I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.

Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.

Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.

"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.

"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.

"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.

"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.

The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.

"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.

He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.

I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.

"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.

"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.

He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.

An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.

"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.

I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.

We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.

When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.

"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.

"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.

As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.

We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.

But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.

I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.

When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.

"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.

Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.

"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.

"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.

I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.

"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.

I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.

"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"

"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.

After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.

The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.

"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.

"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."

"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.

I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.

"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.

"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.

"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.

"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.

My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.

"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.

"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.

"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.

"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.

His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.

"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.

"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.

"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.

"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.

"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.

I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.

"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.

We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.

"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.

"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.

"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.

"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.

"Matt!" I say in shock.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs.

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Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.

I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.

I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.

He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.

"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.

I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.

"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.

His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.

His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.

"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.

"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.

"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.

He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.

He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.

The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.

In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.

He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.

"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.

I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.

I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.

He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.

He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.

He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.

I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.

"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.

I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.

"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.

Endearingly, of course.

"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.

He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.

Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.

Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.

My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.

"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.

He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.

His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.

Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.

Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.

"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.

"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.

I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.

I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.

I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.

Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.

"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.

He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers. 

"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw. 

His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.

That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.

My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.

His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity. 

"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.

I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.

He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.

He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.

"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.

He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.

He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.

I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.

I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.

I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.

I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.

I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.

"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.

He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.

It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.

He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.

His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.

"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.

"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.

"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.

"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.

"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.

I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.

"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.

He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.

He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.

"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.

My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.

"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.

"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.

He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.

"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.

"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.

He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.

"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.

"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.

I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.

I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.

"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.

I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.

Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.

He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.

"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.

"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.

"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.

His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.

"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.

He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.

"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.

"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.

Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.

He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.

I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.

Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.

He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.

"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.

He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.

I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.

My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.

"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.

Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.

"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.

"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.

He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.

He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.

I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.

"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.

"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.

He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.

I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.

"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.

I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.

"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.

I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.

He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.

"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.

"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.

"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.

"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.

"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.

'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.

"I plead the fifth!"

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343

[headfullofpresley]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 3,8K

Series summary: Elvis has worked hard to become the successful adult movie director that he is today and all that hard work is paying off by how well the public reacts to his work and how much money is coming into his bank account, despite the fact that porn is still very much illegal. Working in the adult industry is not something you saw yourself doing despite coming from a place where it always has been out in the open, but you soon find yourself swept up and away by a certain American director and right into the heart of the porn industry. The only question that remains is... will you sink, or will you swim?

Chapter summary: Working on his newest and what he believes his biggest project yet, Elvis flies to Amsterdam to shoot most of it. Everything is going well until he's forced to fire his leading actress on the spot and there's a stop being put to his work. But as he wanders into a cafe for a much needed drink in the bustling city, faith seems to be on his side.

Warnings: porn director!Elvis, European!reader, set in the year 1970 (so some details may be a little off?), obvious mentions of sex/porn etc, mentions of prostitution, Elvis giving reader a lowkey foot rub in public (honestly, he's going to be into feet in this series bc i'm feral), mentions of soft drugs, alcohol consumption.

A/N: hi! this idea was born from an ai but mostly from The Deuce (definitely watch it!), where i took most inspiration from. i'm super excited about this series, and honestly it's giving me a lot of inspiration to write in general again! this is going to be a short series- i'm thinking around 5 parts, but we shall see, hm? no smut in this part, but obvi there will be in future parts, as well as some darker topics. hope y'all enjoy! ❤

masterlist | want to be added to the taglist? just ask!

Who ever said Hollywood was a jungle has obviously never set foot in New York City.

They’ve obviously never experienced what a real concrete jungle is like and they definitely don’t know that the Golden Age of Hollywood has seen its best days. Directors were feeling pressures from the outside – from the public that wanted something different, something more than those cringy movie kisses. The smaller movie theaters were starting to ID their customers because their movies weren’t so family friendly anymore. Establishments that specialized in peep shows were popping out of the ground like weeds. Burlesque clubs were turning into proper stripclubs and people would rather spend their money on naked girls dancing in their faces than on overpriced cocktails at supper clubs.

They didn’t know that the world was changing.

They didn’t know that even though adult entertainment was far from legal, it was one of the most produced and exported and imported products in the country.

They didn’t know. But Elvis Presley did.

Having made his start as a director ten years ago when he was in his early twenties and was nothing but a naive Southern boy from Memphis, he crawled and clawed his way through shitty jobs in New York. From parking cars, to serving drinks in sketchy bars to being a bodyguard at a massage parlor and driving around hookers to their appointments… He’s seen it all, and he’s done it all.

He worked hard to get where he currently was – being one of the most famous porn directors in New York. Everyone knew who he was and everyone respected him. Times Square was home to countless of peep shows, stripclubs and whatnot and you’ll bump into a prostitute every five steps. Elvis never used their services but he was friendly with them, greeting them as if he had known them forever. Which in some girls’ cases, was true.

Most of those girls were looking for a way out, wanting to get off the streets and into the safety of a movie studio, but Elvis has learned from a previous mistake where he hired a girl who had a pimp and the leech tried to get him to pay them more than the other actors. Since then, Elvis stuck to actors and actors only.

The director was doing good for himself, owning his own studio and brand under the name of “Presley Productions”, and living in a spacious apartment in the city, yet he still wanted more.

He wanted to make a movie so good, it would get international attention. He wanted it to be so good that theaters wouldn’t stop showing it and he wanted it to be so damn good that it would get him a shiny, gold award on his shelf.

And whenever Elvis had his mind set on something, he made sure to accomplish whatever it was that he wanted to accomplish.

It would only be a matter of time before Hollywood would get whiff of his work, and who he was, and for him to open up a second studio there. Elvis didn’t believe in “Hollywood first, the world later” though – he was going to knock everyone off their feet, from the housewives in California to the business men in Hong Kong, all at the same time.

 

The script he had written for his newest movie had been done for months now and all there was left to do was the casting. The process went fairly simple and easy – his main actress was Annette Haven and she was a gorgeous brown eyed brunette, but for some reason he couldn’t get used to her.

Granted, he wasn’t the one playing in the movie and her co-star seemed to have no issues with her, so perhaps he figured he was just being too picky because he was so passionate about this project. Annette was friendly during the first few weeks of filming but as they got to Amsterdam, the sex capital of the world, to shoot most of the movie, her behavior started to change.

She was cranky on set, pranced around like she was the Queen and was late for filming almost every single day. To put it mildly, she was getting on Elvis’s nerves and when she showed up high as a kite one afternoon, the director was done with this girl.

He never was a tiran on set and always made sure everyone was doing okay, but right now it was like a bomb exploded and everyone watched and were awkwardly rooted to their places as Elvis had a go at the main actress and fired her on the spot.

“Take the rest of the day off. We’ll figure things out tomorrow,” he announced to the other actors and the crew. He gave them a bitter smile before he turned around and walked out of the studio they rented, angry and annoyed at the fact he lost a full day of filming, his leading actress and money.

He needed a goddamn drink.

 

Amsterdam was a crowded, bustling city and in some ways, it was much like New York but it was different in so many ways too. People were a little more laid back here (and he figured the many coffee shops where one definitely was not drinking coffee but getting high at instead had something to do with that) and instead of running into a lady of the night on a street corner, they were placed behind windows in certain areas. The Red Light District, for example. It was crowded with tourists and while there was a long canal outstretched in the middle of the district, there were shops, bars, coffee shops and sexual tinted business lined up on the sides, drawing people’s attention left and right. The infamous windows were located in the alley ways, the red lights that were on indicating a girl was working at the time. While he was definitely no stranger to sex workers and what the normal citizen would call “wildness of it all”, it was like he had stepped into a different world, yet it felt a little bit like home too.

Spotting a typical Dutch brown cafe on a corner, he stepped inside and was welcomed by the loud rumbles of laughter of men shooting pool and sitting at the tables and the bar and the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. Nobody aside from the waitress even spared him a glance as he sat at a table near the window and the second he looked at the girl that came up to him to take his order, a smirk spread across his face. In the middle of August, it was only natural for the girl to be wearing a pair of shorts and he was glad this place didn’t set any strict dress codes for their employees, because Good Lord, those legs looked like they went on for days. He noticed the red heeled sandals she wore on her feet and her fresh pedicure on her toes, drawing him in even more. The way that black little apron was tied around her waist did things to him and as his eyes shamelessly moved further up and noticed the size of her breasts that were filling up the tight top she was wearing, he could only think two things – first, he needed to get his hands on those things. And second, she would be perfect for the movie he was shooting out here.

Annette Haven who?

“Hallo?!” You spoke again, waving your hand in front of the dark haired man that just sat down by the window when he didn’t respond to you the first time. Instead, he was shamelessly checking you out from head to toe and working in a bar in the Red Light District, you were used to it but it still got you a little annoyed at times. At least some men tried to hide it and most men actually spoke, with actual words. As he excused himself in English and scanned the crowd for a second, you realised he wasn’t Dutch and decided to cut him some slack.

Perhaps he really was a creep, but your boss wouldn’t be too happy if a customer walked out without being served.

Happened before, because while other waitresses accepted the bold and creepy men that came to drink almost every single day, your mother had always taught you to stand up for yourself and to not take any shit from anyone.

Besides, this was 1970. What did men expect? For you to drape yourself over their laps and beg them to take you? Absolutely not.

“A beer’s just fine, honey,”

You bit your tongue to ignore the pet name and flashed the American a smile, looking him in the eye. “Anything else? Something to eat maybe?”

Elvis grinned and shook his head, watching you walk away to get his drink. You were a very pretty girl with a very pretty body and he realised he was going to amp up his charm if he wanted to see what was underneath.

And he definitely wanted to see what was underneath.

 

“There you go,” you said as you came back over to his table and put his beer down in front of him. Before you could make your escape once more, Elvis spoke up.

“You know, your English is pretty good,”

At this, you almost scoffed as you stood up straight and looked at him with a hand on your hip. These Americans were always so full of themselves.

“Thanks. It’s only a language spoken in countries all over the world,” you smiled sarcastically and Elvis grinned in amusement as he leaned his arms on the edge of the table, quirking an eyebrow.

Feisty. He was intrigued.

“I been to Germany back in the day and believe me, they definitely didn’t sound as pretty as you,”

You raised your eyebrows a little at the odd compliment. Didn’t sound as pretty? That was the first time you ever heard something like that. This guy looked exactly what you imagined a pimp to look like – gold rings adorning his fingers, dressed up nicely in a velvet crushed jacket despite the heat outside – yet he used the word “pretty”, instead of something vulgar like most customers did when they’d try to flirt with you.

You knew you had probably judged him too quickly and although you were intrigued by him the same way he was by you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

“Let me tell you a secret,” you whispered as you leaned down and closer to him a little, looking straight into his eyes, which you noticed were very blue and very pretty. “You’re not in Germany anymore, sir,”

Elvis let out a laugh as you gave his shoulder a playful pat and raised his glass, a sly smirk settling on his features.

“You got that right, honey,”

As you walked away, he didn’t fail to notice the playful smile you threw his way as you looked over your shoulder.

 

Elvis wasn’t planning on spending half the day in this particular cafe, but for some reason, he was already on his third beer and he just couldn’t leave.

He could say it was because he needed to clear his mind and think of a solution to fix the problem about not having a lead actress anymore, but the little voice in his head told him he was looking right at that exact solution.

You.

He knew it would be risky – you were just a waitress and you probably had never set foot on a movie set in your entire life, let alone an adult movie set, but he couldn’t stop imagining you in front of the camera, in all kinds of positions.

As he watched you move around the place, serving customers, it was almost like he was watching a movie right now. The way you moved so effortlessly on those little heels, the way you avoided customers that were a little too handsy and the way you were laughing with local customers who you’d probably served many times before.

The sound of your laugh was like music to his ears and he wondered how you’d sound while you were being fucked with those gorgeous long legs dangling in the air. Just imagining you moaning in pleasure had a shiver run down his spine.

And while you had pretended you didn’t like Elvis at all and he was just another annoying American tourist, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing into his direction every so often and making your way to his table to ask if he needed anything else.

When you did just that after talking to some locals at the bar, he looked at you and smiled.

“Sit down,” he told you as he nodded to the empty seat across from him as he leaned back in his seat. “Doesn’t the old man give you a break?”

You chuckled softly as he nodded to an older looking, grumpy man in the corner behind the bar. Your boss. He barely did any of the work and just sipped on his beer, watching his waitresses work their asses off.

For a shitty pay, too.

“Hardly,” you admitted honestly with a soft chuckle, noticing that your boss wasn’t paying any attention to you so you sat down opposite the dark haired man that had his eye on you the entire time. “So, what brought you to Amsterdam?”

Elvis was pleasantly surprised as you asked him that. Not only would it give him the chance to keep you at his table longer, but now was also the moment where he would have to tell you what he did. And find out your reaction to it.

So, he just came clean right away. In one way, it was a good test to see how open-minded the Europeans really were.

And if you were a full blown, crazed feminist.

God… please don’t be a fullblown crazed feminist, he prayed mentally.

“I’m here to make a porno.”

A silence lingered between you two, but it only lasted for about three seconds. You nodded your head and chuckled in an amused but friendly manner.

“Are you an actor?”

Thank God.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head a little as he took a sip of his beer, licking his lips. “I’m the director of the movie,”

You leaned your arms on the table and sat on the edge of your seat, crossing your legs under the table as you swung your foot back and forth a little. Elvis looked at the way your breasts were pressed against your arms for a second before looking back at your face, an excited twinkle in his eyes.

“And why are you not directing your movie right now?” You wondered aloud, tilting your head a little.

“Well,” he let out a laugh as he tapped one of his rings against his glass for a second, looking at you. “My leading actress wasn’t as fit for the role as I thought.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as good as a director as you think you are,” you teased with a grin on your face.

At that, Elvis just looked at you with a raised eyebrow. He could tell you were pulling his tail, but perhaps far in the back of his mind… he wondered if that could be the truth. He decided not to let his insecurities get to him though, not right now, and when he felt your swaying foot hit his leg under the table, he reached a hand down and grabbed your ankle. You widened your eyes a little and stared at him as he gave you a cocky grin and removed your shoe, dropping the red heel to the floor before he put your foot in his lap.

You looked around nervously to see if your boss caught onto you slacking yet, but he was still busy with the locals at the bar. Elvis ran his hand down from your ankle to your foot and pressed his thumb against your sole, making you turn back to him and bite your tongue to hold back a small gasp.

While you certainly never let customers touch you, right now you weren’t trying to get away. Nor could you muster up a smart remark to throw at his head. You’d been on your feet all day, wearing those heels, and the little massage he suddenly decided to give you wasn’t entirely unwelcomed.

“I am a great director, sweetheart, trust me..” he grinned as he looked you in the eye, a kind but mischievous gleam in his blue orbs. This man definitely was bold and for the first time in your waitressing “career”, you were enjoying the attention of a customer. And a tourist, at that. “Some people just can’t resist the many coffee shops in the city,”

You chuckled, nodding your head as you tried to focus on the conversation and not his large hand rubbing your foot under the table.

“Ha! Bet she was A-American,” you mentally slapped yourself for the stutter (and the lame reply) but if he noticed it, he didn’t mention it. Instead he just grinned and caressed his short nails across the arch of your foot a little.

“Who said she was American?”

“Well, if she was Dutch, she could’ve.. resisted the tempting clouds of weed,” you countered back with a small, playful grin on your face.

He laughed as he cocked his eyebrow, his eyes staring intently into yours as he found your pressure point and pushed his thumb into it, making you nearly moan out loud right there in the middle of your work place.

You managed to save yourself with a small groan.

“Think you can do better?”

At this point, your face was flushed and he realised he was slowly breaking through that sarcastic façade of yours. Then again, he wasn’t exactly playing fair with the way he was shamelessly giving you a foot rub and while you had genuinely peaked his interest, he was a little desperate too.

He wanted to finish his movie and make sure it was good. It had to be perfect. And he didn’t want to get a professional actress now that he had laid eyes on you.

Porn wasn’t a strange concept to you despite never having been in a porno yourself. You lived in a city where sex was out in the open for everyone to see and consume and while porn was illegal here as much as it was in the States, it was tolerated. Perhaps it wasn’t such a strange idea for you to dip your toes into the world of adult entertainment.

“I know I can do better,” you said confidently, looking over at your boss who looked your way and you quickly pulled your foot out of Elvis’ grip, slipping it back into your heel. “Just tell me when and where,”

Elvis let out a hearty laugh as he widened his eyes at you a little. This had been easier than he expected – you were offering yourself for the job and while that was certainly surprising, he wasn’t complaining at all. You were perfect for this movie and the fact that you were inexperienced in the industry might even be better for the storyline.

After all, the lead girl was supposed to be a little naive and a whole lot of innocent.

You quickly urged him for a phone number and address when you noticed the sour face of your boss staring at you from behind the bar and Elvis quickly scribbled his contact information down on the back of a paper coaster as he realised he didn’t have any business cards on him at the moment. You grasped it from the table and shoved it in your pocket, getting up from your seat.

“Hold up,” he said after he paid for his drinks and you were about to walk off to the bar to get back to work. You felt him grabbing your wrist and you turned around, looking at him as your heartbeat sped up a little. “I didn’t get your name..”

“It’s Y/N,” You told him, gently pulling your arm out of his grip. You wouldn’t mind holding onto him a little longer but you felt your boss’ eyes burning in the back of your head.

“I’m Elvis. Elvis Presley.”

You nodded and flashed him a smile, tapping the back pocket of your shorts where you had put the coaster in. He grinned and nodded, slowly leaving the cafe, hoping you’d call him and go through with this.

A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to work in a shitty place like this.

 

You watched him go and the entire time your boss was giving you an earful about work ethics as you stood behind the bar, you barely heard the words coming out of his mouth. Quite frankly, you just weren’t paid enough to deal with this. You liked your co-workers but that’s all they were – co-workers. They didn’t pay your bills and neither did your shitty monthly pay that your boss gave you.

You wanted a change. No, you needed a change.

And maybe it was a naive and stupid thing to do, but for some reason, you had trusted that stupid American tourist.

Maybe he wasn’t even a director at all, but the longer your boss went on and on about your behavior, you decided it was worth the risk.

“You know what,” you interrupted him loudly, pulling your apron off and throwing it at his face. “I quit!”

Your boss threw a string of profanities to your head as you opened the cash register and grasped the amount of money he still owed you. He was too slow, and too fat, to stop you and before he could get to you, you were already halfway out the door. Though ofcourse, you didn’t leave without theatrically flipping him off.

 

You ran down the street, squirming your way through the crowd, and into a phone booth. Closing the door behind you, you fished the coaster out of your pocket and rang the number. You were connected to Elvis’ hotel and then put through to his room after several minutes. As soon as you heard his voice on the other side of the line, you inhaled a sharp breath of air and clenched the phone against your ear.

How bad could the porn industry really be?

The fact that you were a virgin didn’t strike you as a problem. Nobody had to know, did they? You were sure you’d be able to mask it.

Even from the director.

You stared at the people walking by the phone booth and leaned against the glass wall, your next words rolling off your tongue determinedly.

“When do I start?”

taglist: @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates

[askinkiskarma]

Illicit Affairs | Chapter II: Right Where You Left Me

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader (later Avatar!Reader)

Chapter I Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You were one of two kids stuck on Pandora after the war took all the Sky People back to Earth. After a series of events left deep scars behind, you are now forced to deal with your trauma - and your lingering resentment towards Neteyam - head-on.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, blood, injury

Word Count: 4,7k words

A/N: So I didn't expect the last chapter to do so well, but I am happy so many people enjoyed it. I have really enjoyed writing this and I am happy to say I am almost done with Chapter III, as well. I am feeling all the feels doing this, and I hope you do, too.

“I cause no harm, mind my business If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong … I'm right where you left me”

The next couple of weeks were uneventful. You haven’t seen Lo’ak since that afternoon, although Kiri’s dropped by a couple of times to keep you company while you worked. Getting her to put on a lab coat and goggles was an adventure in itself, but she eventually relents and does as she’s told. 

She’s shooting you a sly smirk as you are busy pipetting a reagent on your samples under an aseptic hood. “Your birthday’s coming up soon, do you have any plans?” You could hear the smile in her voice, which you found odd. You pushed the feeling aside. Kiri’s odd, and the things that bring her amusement sometimes elude you, and you love her for it. 

“Oh yeah, big party planned, I was thinking pres in the gym, then main party in the dining area and a wild after party in the lab.” You roll your eyes. Birthdays seem fun in movies and TV shows, but it really isn’t the same stuck in a tiny confined space with nothing to do. You were turning 18. Not of much significance to you, although this birthday does seem to hold some relevance back on Earth. 18 is the age you become an “adult”, where you become legally allowed to do all sorts of human things, like drink, smoke, vote, be held liable for your actions (this one still confuses you), get married, drive and so much more. It seemed strange to you that so much weight was placed on this day, and you wondered if when the clock struck midnight a few days from now, you will feel different, like something in your brain will click and you will have answers to all the questions you have been silently asking yourself at night. 

“Thought so. Well, we do have a surprise for you.” She says, still smiling from ear to ear.

Has everyone you loved collectively decided to forget that you hate surprises? With a groan, you got up from your chair, removed the samples that you quickly placed back in an incubator, shut the hood and motioned for Kiri to follow you out of the lab. 

It was later than you expected when you finished, and you knew Kiri would have to leave soon so she can make it back home in time for curfew. 

“Anywayyy…” she says, refusing to let your sour mood damper her own, “I was thinking you could join us at the home tree for your birthday party. The family prepared something for you and you haven’t visited in so long, everyone misses you, especially Tuk.” 

“Kiri…” You wanted to go, and were touched that it seems that the family actually wanted you around, but you were scared. You knew it was stupid, but deep down the guilt of what your species did, what your own dad might have done, eats at you every night. You knew that whilst the Sullys and maybe other Na’vi as well were more than welcoming, others regarded you as a curse, an alien with demon blood that should have been sent to her dying world long ago. You couldn’t deal with knowing your very existence was a reminder of their lost family, their destroyed home, their battle scars. 

“Come onnn, girl, you can’t spend every damn day of your short human life in this place. I mean, I like this place, don’t get me wrong, but if I had to spend every minute of the day here, I’d kill myself. I mean the foooood, the artificial lightinnggg, the stuffy aiiiiir…” she dramatically dragged every word to make her point, and despite everything, you couldn’t really argue with her. 

“I’m not leaving ’til you agree.” 

“I mean I just have to wait long enough that curfew begins, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna see you run out of this place leaving a Kiri-shaped hole in the wall of the lab.” you said, laughing at the frown that settled on her face at your stubborness. “Fine, Kiri, my God, I will be there.” 

“Yay! Thank you, you won’t regret it, I promise!” You couldn’t help crack a smile at her enthusiasm, and you hugged your friend that was sitting on a chair, short enough this way to enable you to do so. 

“Do you want to see Grace before you go?” 

You forget sometimes Kiri isn’t Jake and Neytiri’s biological daughter. I wonder if they forget, too. Kiri is a miracle child, of sorts. Born out of Grace’s avatar, she was like a gift from Eywa herself. She always visits her Ma when she comes to see you.

Kiri shifts uncomfortably in the chair, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. Strange, you think to yourself. 

“No, I should really go, I don’t want to be late getting home and I want to pick some herbs I saw on the path on the way here. I think they’ll be good for the illness going around.” 

You wanted to push, but decided to let it go. You couldn’t blame the girl for maybe not wanting to be reminded that as well as Spider and yourself, she, too, was an outsider. 

You said your goodbyes, and deciding against dinner with everyone in the lab, you made your way back to your room. You picked a book from the shelf of your mum’s old book collection; another thing that apparently became obsolete on Earth with time, your mum revelled in collecting them. She said the only way to properly experience a story is with a physical copy of it in your hands. You agreed. There were a lot of electronic copies of books in the directory, and while you spent so much of your life dedicating yourself to them, nothing compared to the feeling of holding a book, that you know has been held and experienced by another human. You found notes and dried up tears on the pages of these books even to this day, and every time, it brings you closer to your mum, to your grandparents, to a home you’ll never know for yourself. You fell asleep with one of the poems you read that night still fresh in your mind. 

“I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -“

You woke up in the forest. You recognised the place immediately. Secluded from the village and near enough to the lab that even a child could find their way back, it was the perfect hiding spot for little Y/N. You didn’t go there anymore, you’ve barely allowed yourself to even think about it these days, but your dreams spoke to something deep inside you, a yearning you couldn’t drown out no matter how hard you tried. You looked towards the clearing, where the riverbank was almost unrecognisable past the foliage and rocks and allowed yourself a moment of respite. You were startled by a high pitched laugh, and turned your head towards its origin. A little girl, no older than 10, was running towards the bank holding on to an oxygen mask pack, giggling as she looked behind her to an emerging second figure. She was so happy, so…alive. 

Her eyes were glossy from unshed tears, happiness so loud it expressed itself physically. A second child emerged from the shadows, just behind where you stood. A boy, tall and blue, with the same innocence behind his eyes, quickly caught up to where the girl now lay on a rock by the river. 

“I won, Neteyam! I beat you!” The girl says, panting, laughing and crying all at once. The boy’s expression softened, and as he took his place next to the girl on the rock, gave her a small smile.

“You did! I didn’t try that hard, though. I want a rematch.” 

“You’re on!” 

The two kids sat in silence for awhile, enjoying the peace and quiet, the hushed whisper of the water and the bustling chirping of insects and birds hidden from view. 

“I have something for you.” The boy suddenly said with a gummy smile. 

From behind his back, he retrieves a bracelet. It was green, made up of numerous beads and tiny rocks that complemented each other so well, it seemed they were put on this planet for the very purpose of adorning a Na’vi’s body. 

You recognised the bracelet and the sight of it tugged at your heart. You felt your eyes tear up and cursed your mind for putting you through this again. 

“This is like your bracelet!” The tiny girl says, with a wide smile. 

“Yes, I told ma I lost mine and asked her very nicely to make me another and she did! I want you to have it. This way I have one and you have one. Just you and me.” 

Just you and me. Just you and me. Just you and me. 

You woke up in tears, eyes locked on the bracelet in question that was still residing on your nightstand. You didn’t wear it anymore, but couldn’t find it in your heart to part with it fully. It now lay next to your head, a bitter reminder of yet another road not taken. You cursed Neteyam for coming back into your life, if only briefly, just to resurface hurt you are yet to deal with or even acknowledge fully. You curse him for the bracelet, and the memories and yet another pain you have to deal with on your own. Always on your own.

The next few days went by in a blur. You spent the days buried in work, and the nights exercising and field stripping weapons. You refused to think, or sleep, or read or play music or really anything to would give your heart the opportunity to take over again. You passed out last night in the gym, but it was a dreamless slumber, which you were grateful for. This night was your last night at 17. You were waiting patiently for the clock to strike midnight as you were finishing up your last experiment for the day. You glanced at the clock, once, then twice, then three times. Eventually, it happened. And then nothing. No answers, no epiphanies, no nothing. Disappointed, but not entirely shocked, you chuckled at yourself for thinking life would give you an easy way out. After all, it never did. A little after 1AM, you made your way to your bed. You took one last look at your empty nightstand, then passed out. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAAAY!!!” 

Your entire body snapped in an upright position at the sudden auditory onslaught. Your face settled in a deep frown as you were trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. At the edge of your bed on all sides were people. Kiri, Lo’ak, Norm, Max and Spider. They all had big smiles on their faces, a big contrast to your own. You actively tried to remove the frown from your features, and found it easy enough when you realised these people, these people you loved were here, for you. 

“Thanks guys. Anyway, could I get some privacy so I can put some clothes and thank you properly??” 

With a grunt that definitely came from Lo’ak, they all left you to get ready for the day. When you appeared in the dining room, you found a big basket filled with incredible Pandoran food, and you were happy to see your favourites as the most prominent. 

“Oh my GOD, Banana fruitsss!! How did you guys find these??” 

“Lo’ak may or may not have spent an inordinate amount of hours waiting for a couple to drop out of the push fruit tree that grows a few clicks from the village.” Kiri said, laughing and poking Lo’ak sides with her fingers.

You felt a lump in your throat form at the admission. God, you were so grateful for this boy. You could live a thousand lives and still not deserve him. Feeling you getting emotional, he dropped to his knees and opened his arms. You made your way to him and hugged him, as tightly as you could. You were not great with words, but you put all of your unspoken thoughts in that hug. Your size difference made both of you snicker, and with one last tug, you let go.

“Thank you, guys. You are great, really, I couldn’t ask for better people to be around today.”

“Come on, let’s eat. We have big plans awaiting.” 

“Sing!!” 

You spent the morning eating and talking, Lo’ak complaining about the training and the ass kicking he got from his dad after your last meeting. You were laughing at his exaggerated manner of speaking, excited to finally have him around to get you out of your funk. 

“You guys always want me to sing, you need to pay me if you’re gonna treat me like a jukebox, you know?” 

You picked up the guitar that Norm brought for you out of the recreation room. You took it in your arms and strummed the chords, making sure they were tuned correctly. You thought long and hard about a song, and you found it eventually, buried in your brain, along with the memory of your mum singing it to you as a child with tears streaming down her face. 

“… Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still 23 inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be"

You felt the tears coming, but you willed them away. Your heart was strong, but it couldn’t contend with your mind. You continued, pouring all of your frustrations with Neteyam, with yourself, with this life in the song.

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still 23 inside her fantasy

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

She's still 23 inside her fantasy and you're sitting in front of me"

You looked across the room and felt weird, sick ecstasy at the faces of the people around you, all of which looked sad and glossy-eyed. You didn’t want to make anyone sad, but you loved the power that music held. You loved that it brought people together, no matter the species, the language, the tone, the mood, you could always rely on music to provide unison.

If our love died young, I can't bear witness, and it's been so long

But if you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me

As you played the last chord of the song, you looked up and froze at the sight of Neteyam sitting by the door of the room, an unreadable expression marking his features. You registered people talking in your direction, but couldn’t decipher the words as you lay there, on the ground, guitar in hand, staring at the beautiful boy who did not allow your eyes to leave his own. You swear you saw a flicker of sadness in his big, yellow eyes you used to know so well, but as you were trying to decipher them, Spider’s oh-so-human face flooded your line of sight. 

“Hello!! Earth to Y/N”

“It’s concerning how many times this happens”, Lo’ak intercepts.

You finally focus on the people who have come here for you, and put the guitar down with a small laugh.

“Sorry, guess I got way too into the song.”

“Yeah, what the hell’s up with that? It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a celebration and you’re making us depressed, instead.” Spider says, frowning. 

“Sorry!” You whine, hoping the childish tone would earn a quicker forgiveness. 

They all somehow roll their eyes simultaneously, which you find amusing.

“Mum and dad say it’s time.” It takes a second for your brain to register the Na’vi sentence. The deep voice breaks through the chatter and everyone turns their heads towards the oldest Sully sibling. 

“Right!” Lo’ak says, patting his knees and getting up suddenly. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!’

You knew it was dumb, but you were nervous, too nervous, to make your way to the Home Tree after so much time. It’s been years since you have been there, maybe since you’ve been anywhere, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit to yourself, or to anyone around you. Nevertheless, you put on your mask and secured your oxygen cartridge behind your back. 

You bid a swift goodbye to Norm and Max, who said they will try to make it to the celebration later in the evening. You then stepped outside, eyes finding it hard to adjust to the natural brightness of Pandora. You found the mask uncomfortable, having been so long since you needed it last, and took a deep breath in your attempt to calm down and take it one step at a time. 

Lo’ak was, as always, Neteyam thought, leading the pack. Spider followed suit and you and Kiri maintained a steady pace behind the two boys. Neteyam was quietly walking behind you. He was deep in thought, not being able to shake the image of you playing guitar and singing that song he had never heard before. He hasn’t heard you sing in so long and hearing it again opened a hole in his chest that he thought was long closed. His eyes followed you closely, taking in all the details about you he hoped he wouldn’t notice. Your hair was lighter than he remembered, not by much, but enough that it was there, present for him to see. You were tall, taller than you used to be, and taller than most human women he’s seen. You were wearing a skirt, he thinks it’s called, that flows every time the wind touches it. It’s black and it looks soft, and Neteyam can’t help but want to feel it for himself. Your top is braided and beaded, and it seems like a mix between human clothes and Na’vi wear. You back is completely bare short of a string that ties the top together and the man feels his heart picking up pace at the sight. Cursing under his breath, he moves his gaze on a piece of jewellery adorning your arm. A intricate bracelet, green and red, definitely Na’vi make. He remembers briefly Kiri making it for one of your previous birthdays and smiles sadly at the thought. Finally, his eyes settle on a deep scar on the back on your left leg. Before he can help himself, the memories flood his being…

Neteyam found himself once again, waiting outside the big metal building for you to come out. He was excited for today, too excited to put into words. It always took convincing for you to come out, especially recently, but he loved that you said yes to him, and not to Lo’ak or Kiri, for once. He knew you have been sad for a while, and was happy to do anything in his power to help. He jumped out of his skin when the door opened, and you laughed at him for being what you called a “scaredy cat”. 

“I’m happy to see you, Neteyam”, you said, in Na’vi. He smiled to himself at your accent, but loved how hard you tried to speak to him in his own tongue. “Not happy you’re dragging me out, but if it means spending some time with you, I guess I will let it slide” You continued in English.

“I think you will be happy to be out for this”, Neteyam interjected. You walked together in comfortable silence, only speaking when you found a plant or animal you didn’t know the name of. 

“Oh my God, this is so pretty, what’s it called?” You ask, enthusiastically.

“A’o” Neteyam answers you, smiling softly, never getting bored of your incessant line of questioning. Like with the language, he was just happy you cared. 

“What are you wearing?” Neteyam asks, unable to stop himself. 

“Oh, this?” You say, looking down at your choice of attire. “It’s just an old T-shirt I found in one of the drawers of the living quarters. I’m not sure whose it is, but I assume a big old man’s, cause it’s more a dress than a t-shirt at this point.” 

“A T-shirt…” Neteyam said, contemplatively. He looked at it closer and saw an image he couldn’t quite understand on it and the word “Metallica” written on it. He didn’t know what it meant, so he dropped it. At least he learnt a new word today. 

You walked like this for over an hour, but eventually reached the end of a cliff, that overlooked a beautiful waterfall. Neteyam thought this sight alone will make you feel better, but he had bigger plans in mind. 

“Wow, this is beautiful! This was almost worth the fresh hell I felt when that bug went in my nose like 20 minutes ago.” 

Neteyam laughed, and he revelled in the way only you seemed to be able to make him feel like this. Free and alive. 

Standing on the edge of the cliff, Neteyam let out a high pitched yell, then turned around to look at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He smiled as he heard the trees on the other side of the cliff ruffle, and watched with pride as a big bundle of green, yellow, red and blue emerged from the foliage and landed in front of him. He turned to you and let out a big laugh when he saw your face, jaw dropped in horror and amazement, eyes wide with the glint of curiosity he’s come to love so much. 

“You did it!! I’m so so so proud of you, Neteyam!” You screamed, running at him and launching yourself as high as you could, knowing he would catch you in his arms. “And at 13, too! This has to be some sort of record, right?” 

“I doubt it, but it still felt good doing it. I was shocked Mum and Dad even let me try it. Anyway, I wanted you to meet her.” 

He swung you in his arms with ease, not weighing a lot more than his baby sister, who was just around 3 years old. He finally placed you back on the ground with care, right in front of the Ikran. He made tsaheylu and waited patiently as you were building it up the courage to approach the mighty being that was lowly cooing and nudging its head against Neteyam’s. He felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of your beautiful face, and said a silent prayer, thanking Eywa for still being able to bring that expression to your otherwise crestfallen figure. 

Once it seemed you became comfortable enough around her to pet, he clicked his tongue and motioned for you to get on. You let out an incredulous laugh and shook you head.

“No way in Hell, are you insane??” 

“Come on, Y/N. I never pegged you for a coward.”

After this many years, he knew how to push you buttons. He saw your smile drop and your eyes take on that expression that almost frightened him. Thank the Great Mother you were human, cause you would be a force to behold as a Na’vi. 

“Damn you, Neteyam.” You said, slowly getting up on the banshee and making yourself comfortable in front of the boy. He felt your back flushed against his bare chest, and suppressed a shudder that threatened his body. 

“It will be fun, you will see. Here, hold on here, and don’t let go. I will have my arms around you at all times, and I promise to make her go slowly.” You refused to acknowledge him, and he found himself laughing, again. 

Without any other words, he willed the ikran to take off. You let out an involuntary yelp, but otherwise you were brave and strong, just like he knew you to be. Once you were above the forest, he found you staring in awe beneath you, his gaze locked on the side of your face and on the smile that made him happy to be alive at the same time as you, just so he can experience it over and over. You flew like this for a long time, just taking in the beauty of this world that you both called home. A beauty that he knew you never got to experience, not the way you should have, not the way you deserved. He saw a tear escape your eyes and make its way down your cheeks and settle in between your lips, and cursed himself for not being able to take it away, the pain he knew clawed at you every waking moment since your mum died. You have never been the same since. 

“Thank you for this, Neteyam.” You said, softly. “I wish there was a way to show this to her, a way to share this experience. I know she would have loved it as much as I do, maybe more.” You settled comfortably on his chest and sighed. 

He didn’t get a chance to formulate a response, though, as a loud shriek came from his Ikran and he felt the panic overtake him as the tsaheylu made the feeling echo in between them. Looking up, he saw what no man wants to see: Toruk, his dad’s former pet, launching itself at the two teenagers and their ikran. Clearing his mind, Neteyam removed a hand from the reigns for balance and banked left abrubtly, diving straight for the trees, that were fortunately not too far below them. As if life suddenly stopped to a halt, he was able to experience the next harrowing moments in slow-motion - the diving, the terror of watching your frame slowly disappear from his line of sight, your voice screaming his name as you dropped towards the ground, his own voice getting caught in his throat trying to call for you, willing his Ikran to go faster than he thought was possible in an attempt to catch you, the pool of red liquid spilling from your frame as you impaled your leg on a broken Pxiut hitting the ground. He quickly removed himself from the Ikran and ran to you, picking you up in his arms, trying to ignore the way the blood was spilling down his torso and dripping on the ground. He looked at your unconscious body in his arms and felt the first crack in his heart form, a crack yet to be healed to this day. He pushed back the tears that were starting to pool and got back on the Ikran, flying as fast as he could through the foliage. As soon as he could see the outline of the metal building, he stopped the animal and got off, running with you in his arms. It’s all a blur afterwards. He remembers going home, your now-dried blood still marking his skin like a tattoo, he remembers crying in his mum’s arms, he remembers the guilt that poisoned his mind and heart and he remembers sitting on a cold floor next to what humans called an operating room, waiting to hear if the damage he has caused you will plague you for the rest of your life.

His eyes never left the scar on your leg, and, as he forced himself out of the torturous memory, couldn’t help noticing the slight limp with which you walked towards the village.

Crack. 

Tag list :-): @mashiromochi

[if-you-feel-lonely]

p!cc!schlatt w teen!reader who met because they both joined the dsmp at the exact same time and they ended up getting terrifyingly close? n maybe a drabble or hcs, up to you!

- ☕️

Omg pretend this isn't a month late.

They/them pronouns for this one 🫶

TW: swearing

You were the last person Schlatt expected to befriend from this SMP

He knew some people, and he knew of some people

You, however, where a complete stranger

You two spoke a bit when you first joined, and it felt oddly natural

It was weird to talk to someone he'd just met (nevermind a CHILD) like he'd been best friends with you for years

You just had that effect on people, I suppose

Lots of weird jokes came out of your unlikely friendship

"Hey, that is my CHILD you're talking about, back the fuck up."

A very bad influence on you

Definitely convinces you to do very out of pocket things

Likes to call you when you're at school, especially if you live in a different timezone

"Hey man, what's up?"

"It's six o'clock in the morning where you are, why the fuck are you ringing me?"

"Damn, would a hello have killed you or something?"

Yeah.

This man is a risk to your mental stability (assuming that you have any)

A very "I don't care what you do but don't get hurt" sort of older brother figure

He'll only snitch on you to someone else if he thinks you'll actually get hurt from what you're doing

And even then he'll try to get you to stop himself before he calls someone

Very much wants to meet up with you

Would pay for trains, flights, whatever it took

Would even drive or fly to you himself if you couldn't

Always tells you to stay in school and not drop out

He wants you to have a backup plan if things don't go to plan, and I honestly rate that

Doesn't mean he won't call your teachers stupid and say your work is pointless, but you win some, you lose some

But if you're genuinely not getting anything from it and it's a waste of your time, he'll just tell you to do what you think is best

Goes feral when you get weird people in your chat

"THAT IS A CHILD. A LITERAL CHILD."

Doesn't matter if you legally become an adult, you're still a child

You two have a joke where you call him old and he calls you an infant

"You're basically a fetus, shut the fuck up."

"Alright grandad, calm down. We have to be back at the home soon."

You're both very chaotic

pretend this isn't incredibly short because I'm trying to get some writing out :,)

[canary-song]

Due to what little on-screen interactions we see between Noir Peter (Pete) and Peni in ITSV, it's no surprise that a lot of people have agreed upon the popular fanon of them being a sort of father-daughter duo (or, for those who subscribe a bit more to Pete being younger due to the comics, a sibling-like relationship). It's cute so I support it, but it got me thinking about the two in comparison to eachother, specifically in terms of corrupt systems and how they're handled in their stories. I think the two have a bit more a contrast than just the surface level stuff, so let's look into it!

(Essay + comic panel evidence beneath the cut)

From the very start of Peni's (unfortunately short) comics, she's shown as very resigned to her fate - when brought in to discuss her father and her future "career" in the SP//DR program, she's upfront and blunt; My father is dead, and I'm the only one who can replace him, so I will. It's a foregone conclusion, and one she doesn't shy away from.

Furthermore, even though we see how, throughout the comics, she's basically given no life beyond her work, and even her school hours are eaten into, she's told again and again that all of this cost means something.

She has to sacrifice everything, because there's no other choice. Her own Guardians, her Uncle Ben and Aunt May, work for the very organization that her father did, and persist to remind her of the importance of the job, even if they do try to remind her that she can't handle this alone. Very telling, when faced with threats to the multiverse, she briefly asks her Uncle Ben if she should stay with him, only for him to tell her to go.

Duty calls.

This isn't the point of this, but of course she joined Spider HQ and went along with what Miguel was telling her - she's grown up surrounded by very like-minded, sacrifice-willing adults. Of course she has to do this. What other option is there?

On the other end, Pete is quite the opposite of Peni's story. Yes, 100%, like all Spiderpeople, there's the element of responsibility, that looming recognition that not doing what you can gets people hurt, but while Peni's story is set up so that she's fighting for her system of authority, Pete is unsurprisingly against his. At any point that he can, even pre-spiderbite, he's picking fights and trying to fix things. He's so set in his beliefs and outspoken that he makes his own mentor question his actions, constantly in pursuit of a better world.

It's the responsibility of the people to give a shit, and Pete cares so much that it drives him a bit mad, I think.

Where Peni is told that this is the way things work, Pete is demanding that it change, asking questions. Peni was raised to accept her responsibility, whereas Pete was raised to fight against the expected status quo.

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THEIR RESPECTIVE BENS.

I'll try keeping this fragment of a thought short because we're already clocking in 6 paragraphs pre-edits and I need to feed the dogs their dinner soon, but the TLDR is that Uncle Ben is the last surviving legal Guardian of Peni, and though distant, he tries his best to support her while she's in the SP//DR program. Pete's Uncle Ben is, by no such surprise, dead, but specifically, he was a WWI veteran, decorated but guilty.

Uncle Ben is, in the Noir comics, yet another symbol of how doing what you're told can haunt you. He was very vocally against the war machine he was a part of, while Peni's Ben has known nothing else but his work.

This is how completely dead opposite they are in so many regards. They contrast eachother!! It's really interesting! Honestly, I could see Pete getting into an argument with Peni's Ben over how she's been treated, even if it probably wouldn't go well. He cares too much to keep his mouth shut, often.

[blorbobutworse]

For the young Logan au how do the X-men meet him exactly? And also any other headcanons? 🙏

For Clarity, this will Once Again be Feral Baby Logan. The X-Men Adults in this Universe are: Beast, Cyclops, Jean, Storm, Colossus, and Young X-Men (still older than Logan) are: Iceman, Angel, and Kitty Pryde.

We're going to do this in the Angstiest way possible: The Original Canon.

Xavier finds about a Mutant: Weapon X. Part of a strange project being conducted in Canada. What he doesn't know until he gets there is that Weapon X is a 16 year old boy.

It goes a little like this:

Charles speaks with the Canadian government after finding out about a program involving Mutants. In exchange for not doing anything...too severe, they promise to allow him to pitch his offer to Weapon X himself. He is 'invited' into the facility in Quebec, and waits in the Conference room for the head of the program to arrive with the mutant. He's debating calling in Scott by the time he hears footsteps outside the room.

Stryker starts sweating as soon as he sees the telepath. Still, he's remarkably composed for someone who has been experimenting on mutants, and is being faced with The Representative for Mutants.

"Alrighty, I'm here! What could have brought the Charles Xavier to our doorstep?" Silence. And then the sound of thundering footsteps. If possible, Stryker's face goes more white as he whips around to slam the door shut.

He just gets his hand on the handle when it slams open, pushing him into the wall with so much force he topples over

"Who's the bigwig you're talking to without me, old man?!"

... It's the voice of a young man. A very young man.

He's in a thick suit, similar to Xavier's X-Men, but more militaristic, with a ... a collar. A very thick, seamless metal collar. His hair is plastered to his forehead, like he was just hosed down, with a snarl on his face showing off sharp, animalistic teeth.

Charles feels nausea swirl in his gut. 'If this is who I think it is...'

"I am the 'Bigwig'. Wolverine, correct? I am Professor Charles Xavier, at your service." He smiles genially, hoping to let the boy know that he is safe.

Wolverine sneers. "Obviously it's me." He looks to Stryker. "Am I supposed to be impressed by some Professor?"

Stryker finishes straightening his suit and puts a heavy hand on Wolverine's shoulder. Xavier can feel Wolverine tense, but he doesn't pull away.

"Apparently, the brass is impressed. All I know is that he's here to make you some sort of offer." 'He better not take it if he knows what's good for him.'

Wolverine's eye's glint, and he leans closer to the Professor.

"An offer? Okay, what's your deal?"

One chance Charles. He swallows. "I know of your recent battles. And more, I know of your powers. You, child, are a Mutant. And I have a need of mutants-"

"Hey! I'm not some fucking ki-"

"-I am Offering you a chance to become a free agent!" 'I am offering you a chance to become free!'

Wolverine pauses. His eyes widen and flick between Stryker and the Professor. He lets out a long, slow breath, sets his jaw and nods.

"What the hell, I'll do it." His posture is carefully casual, juxtaposed by Stryker's meaty hands grabbing his shoulders to spin him around.

"Not so fast! The government has invested a great deal of time and Money into i-him" He looks down at the boy, who's eyes stay locked with Xavier's.

"If you try walking out on us, I'll have you locked up!"

"Well this is a free country, isn't it? Besides, you're not my legal guardian, the government is, and they said I could!" At this, Wolverine pops his infamous claws. As blood trickles down his knuckles, Stryker's hand flies to his pocket, and they both freeze. C'mon kid, try it! There's a reason we put that damn thing on you!

Xavier holds up a finger, and the metaphorical standstill become much more real.

"I believe Wolverine has made his choice. I shall take him with me, and any of his belonging will be sent to my school by next week, is that alright with you, Commander?"

Stryker grunts, and Xavier retracts his powers from their minds. Logan steps back, looking visibly unsure for the first time.

"Whatever. You're going to need this." he hands Xavier a remote. "He's an animal sometimes. We'll see how long it takes you to return him." He's still chuckling to himself when the door closes.

✩~✩~ Skip to Boarding the Plane ~✩~✩

It takes them some time to actually get out of the building. Wolverine stops by his room and fills up a small bag with items, and Charle's is given a thick folder on information on Wolverines mutations as well as how to 'take care of him'.

The team is waiting for them to board. Xavier hasn't told them of his discovery, deciding that instability would be better handled once they're on the plane and away from humans. What he doesn't expect, however, is Wolverines reactions to the team. He stands as far as he can from both Xavier and the team as they make their introductions

Scott reaches out for a handshake, but it hangs in the air awkwardly as Wolverine glares at it. After a few uncomfortable seconds, he lowers it and just introduces himself.

"I'm Scott Summers, also known as Cyclopes. And you are...?"

At this, the boy scoffs. "My name is Wolverine. Shouldn't you know it, since you all came for me?"

Scott grits his teeth, shock and anger flicking through his mind. 'Seriously professor? A kid?!' Everyone else is worse at hiding their shock. A thunderous crack is heard as lightning strikes near the entrance of the facility, and the room trembles as Jean's powers begin to make things float.

'Now, X-Men, I know this is a surprise, but please maintain your composure. Although it may not be visible, he is nervous about meeting other mutants for the first time.'

Things settle, and the sky once again clears.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Wolverine, I am Storm, also known as Ororo Munroe. I will be flying us back." She nods, and heads to the cockpit.

"I am Colossus, little lad! My real name is Piotr Rasputin!" He steps forward, as though to pull Wolverine to him

The boy adjusts his stance to be a little further away, and growls, "I am not little! And don't touch me, fuckwad."

Colossus coughs awkwardly at the violent response, and then mumbles, "Of-of course. Ah, I believe I shall go see how Storm is doing."

Charles inclines his head towards Jean, would you mind looking into his collar? There is no visible seal, and I do not have the knowledge to remove it. You have been spending time with Hank, so I hope you can be of some help.'

'Of course Professor'

Jean approaches, and gently puts her hand on his bicep. She smiles down at him and says, "I'm sorry about the shaking Wolverine, I tend to have some trouble containing my abilities. My name is Jean Grey. How about you sit in the back with me? I'd like to take a look at that collar, if possible?"

Wolverine looks away, a light pink brushing his cheeks. "Sure. Whatever."

Oh my.

Scott's head whips over, and he opens his mouth to say he'll stay in the back as well, but Xavier steps in. "That sounds great, Jean. Cyclops, let's go to the front so the plane can take off. I believe it is almost time for dinner."

It doesn't end there, but that's all I have to give today :p

Beginning dialogue modified from the original Giant Size X-Men (1975) Issue #1

I will also upload how they meet in the Evolution AU....soon. This took A Bit, mostly because I'm super finnicky and it's been a hot minute since I wrote anything.

[mayasaurusss]

I have an adult Lottie req!! Reader has a stall in the farmers market next to where the purple, sorry, heliotrope, people sell honey and reader has become sort of close with Lisa and is generally a very chill person until one day Lottie is there and reader tries to flirt but is miserably awkward about it so Lisa has to be like “basically they’re trying to ask you out” to Lottie. Thank you!

Honey.

Contains: fluff, idiots in love, legal age gap, florist reader, reader is a horny bastard, beekeeper Lottie (aka, Lottie is a nerd), suggestive, crack fic threated seriously, grammar mistakes, done quickly, not proofread, I used the word "realize" more times than I realized ( ;D ). 250k, about five pages.

Author's note: I am sorry anon but I had to write this faster than usual, since I have so much stuff to write from now on until the end of summer. So, there might be many more grammar mistakes, sadly. Also, unreleated, but this might get cringy at times. I hope it's still okay! Enjoy!

The floral smells of the flowers filled your nostrils while you are lazily resting on your chair. You loved your florist job but at times, it could get boring; spending your days selling flowers was more tiring than it seemed. The only days you had to rest were Saturdays and Sundays and even those were spent taking care of the many flowers and plants in your little garden.

During the afternoon, the marketplace was quiet; people had just finished their morning errands and were either going back to work or to their homes. Still, you had clients: an old granny with her niece, a young woman with a gardening passion, an old man with a walking cane, a woman in her mid forties with the most beautiful dark eyes you've ever seen. That last one struck you.

She had come around four pm, when the marketplace started to become lively once more before shutting down for the day. You had already seen her; in fact, you had eyed her all day. She introduced herself as Lottie, your "market neighbor".

Her words are distant, "....y, are you listening to me?".

You are brought back to earth when she waves her hand before your eyes. "Uh, sorry! I was... thinking. Can you uhm, repeat yourself?" she gives you a weird look. You hope she hasn't caught you fawning over her; "I said I would like to purchase something".

You jolt up from your seat and put on your gloves. "Sure! What would you like?", Lottie takes a look at the small paper in her hand, "I would like... chamomile, echinacea, aster, cosmos and heliotrope, if you have it". Her hands brush on yours while you hand her her purchase; you can distantly feel your cheeks heating up, but pay it no mind. "Would you like to come take a visit to my stall? Maybe I could even make you join our community" she says, but something in her voice makes you distrust her. "No thank you, I'm fine on my own. But I'll happily stop by later".

You are interrupted by the sounds of an old granny almost knocking over a few plants. "... as soon as work allows me".

You close the stall one hour earlier than usual. The marketplace smells of food, wood, flowers and honey. "Listen, young woman!" you hear an old lady yell while you walk towards the purple stall, "There is no way you will sell me chestnut honey as all-flower honey! I am old, but not blind!"

Lottie was unfocused, staring into the distance, but once she spots you she completely abandons her poor employer to the old woman's ramblings. "You've come!" her hands close on yours. She flashes you her beautiful smile.

Her stall is small, consisting of a counter covered in a purple cloth with countless jars of honey and honeycomb on it and a beehive on display. Near the end of a table you see a flier. "Join our vibrant community!" it reads; "We help you understand and overcome your traumas! Become the best version of yourself!" written in bold purple font. "So, are you guys like uhm... a cult?"

It seems like Lottie was prepared for your questions, as she answers right away. "No, we are an intentional community" -"It's a cult", you think to yourself- "that specializes in helping others and ourselves".

A uhm leaves your lips, "I like the purple shades" you say. "It's a heliotrope". Man she's so weird. But so hot.

She gestures towards the overcrowded honey stand, "May I interest you in some of our all natural honey?". Countless jars sit on the counter: some big, some small, some filled with a dark substance, some so light you can see through them. Hit by the warm light, they make for a beautiful golden spectacle. You analyze the different names written on them: chestnut, pine, all flower, thyme, acacia, wildflower, eucalyptus, clover...

"You seem to be very passionate about honey" you tell Lottie, not having realized she is very close, towering behind you. "Making honey and beekeeping is hard. But, with the right care and treatments" she picks up an amber coloured jar, moving it and reflecting light in its shades, "something like this can come to life".

Why don't you tell me more about honey while we're fucking?

"This honey is particularly tasty. It's acacia. Perfectly sweet, not too hard on the tongue and smooth". She takes a small flat wooden stick and dips it in one of the displays made for clients. "Here, try it" on the tip of the stick there is a drop of the same shade of honey. You are about to take it from Lottie's hand, but she keeps a tight grip on it.

Oh for God's sake...

Your lip closes on the tip of the stick, savoring the taste of the honey. She's right, it's sweet but not too much. It's clear Lottie made it with love and care. Your eyes avoid her intense gaze, trying to maintain your ego intact.

The old lady and Lottie's employer are watching the two of you. You see a flash of disgust in the older woman's face. "Ugh!" she grunts, sauntering away, "I'm never coming here again!". The employer tries to call the woman back, but is promptly shutted by Lottie. "We didn't need her money anyway" she says, but you see a look of hurt painting her face. "Lisa, pack everything. We're leaving".

"Are you... are you coming again here?" The question is almost stupid, of course she will come back, but Lottie smiles. "Of course I will. I'm not usually here, but another alcol- employer is feeling ill, so I will be in his place for some weeks". You look up at the woman, cheeks still hot after your little show. "You... you don't come here often?" she smiles at you and it takes everything you have to not combust on the spot. "I am the community manager. I usually attend to other matters".

Oh she has gone from a ten to a one hundred. I love women with power.

"Uh I... I see". Lottie gestures towards the girl who has begun packing up, "Lisa is almost always here. She likes the lively atmosphere of the market. Don't you, Lisa?" you hear the girl scoff, followed by a "As much as I'd like to see my fish again". Lottie looks at her with a mean 'I am going to scold you' face, "Lisa. Packing". The girl apologizes and starts to move the jars into boxes faster.

Lottie takes the jar she had shown you before, setting it in your hands. "On the house". You are confused for a moment, looking puzzled at the amber liquid. "But- but this is expensive! I can't accept this gift!" She walks back to the stand, moving to help Lisa pack up. "Consider it a gift. To make you remember me".

Oh you're gonna remember her alright.

Over the last few weeks, you've visited Lottie's stand over and over again, during work hours, during lunch, sometimes you closed the shop one hour earlier or opened it one hour later. Lottie had loved your company, but ever so worried, she was preoccupied with your finances. She had tried multiple times to give you money or to make you join her community, fearing that you weren't in the best economical situation. You had assured her that most of your income came from your shop, not the market, but she wasn't very easy to convince.

You had also become close with Lisa. Very close. One might use the word "besties" to describe you two. And, you had accidentally spilled about your little crush to her. "Lottie is such a nice person" she said, while the older woman wasn't present, "she makes me feel cared for". You had been very happy to talk about your crush. "Oh yeah she's so funny, smart and so, so beautiful but- you know in a- in a normal way..." needles to say, you got caught red handed.

And Lisa was more than happy to help her new friend out.

The first attempt had gone horrible.

Lisa was near you, coaching you into flirting with Lottie. She gives you a pat on the shoulder, a smile and encouragement, then, you walk over to Lottie, who was attending to the beehive.

"Hey..." you said, making Lottie look at you, "Hello. Something the matter?". She stands up, hands clutching together as you saw her doing so many times throughout the past weeks.

"Have you, have you always been so... symmetrical...? ", a dead silence falls over your shoulders. Lottie watches you, confused and tilting her head to the side, "What?".

" Nevermind!" you skip over to Lisa who watched the whole scene, cringing internally for you. "Come on, next time it will be better!" you look over at her with the most shameful look ever in your eyes.

"I am going to kill myself" Lisa looked at you with disdain, but kept most of it to herself, "Don't say that".

The second attempt was easier, but a helping hand aided you; well, aided Lottie.

You had tried multiple times to flirt with Lottie but to no avail, always either bailing out the second before flirting or straight up ruining your chances. "Hey" Lisa says, eyeing Lottie, who was cataloging the various honey jars. She looked over at her acolyte, who had an uncharacteristic teasing smile on her lips, "Yes?"; Lisa looked over at you, who were arguing with some old woman back at your stall.

Her thumb pointed towards you, "You see that thing?" Lottie is a bit taken aback by Lisa's words. "Yeah?" your voice rises, "That thing?" the client starts to call you names. "Yes I see her" she throws compost over your apron. "That gremlin?" you call the old woman a bitch, "Oh Lisa stop, she's a bit messy sometimes but she's not a gremlin" your cute pink apron is covered in compost and petals. "...Sometimes" Lottie says, looking at your tired figure. "I better go help her..." but Lisa's hands stop her in her tracks, she leans up and whispers in her ear "She likes you".

Now, Lottie is old. Older than she ever realized, but throughout the years, some words and tones of voice always had the same secret meaning. Lottie moves back, a hopeful but scared stare in her eyes, "She...she does?" Lisa giggles, having known about both yours and her manager's crushes long before you realized. "Yeah, she does. As in 'like you', you know?" Lottie takes a moment to understand and walk to you, with the intent on telling you about her feelings once and for all.

But when she looks at you, covered in compost, smelling and tired, she knows that it's not the right time. She can't fuck this up. "Here, let me take care of you" she takes your hand and guides you to her tent, where Lisa is peeking at you both. "Change into this" she gives you some purple -heliotrope- clothes, "It's nothing, really" she answers your silent request when you look at her. Seeing you change -after finding a public restroom and having washed off the stench- in her signature color made Lottie's heart skip a beat. "You are beautiful..."

The third attempt was the one. You had gone on your own to Lottie, having decided to tell her your feelings. Lottie was resting, as no one was at her stand. " Hey... Do you want to go on a walk with me?" normally she would decline, there was always work to do, however...the marketplace had been emptier than usual. With the start of autumn and the sky getting dark sooner, people preferred going back home. There's nothing wrong with taking a small walk, right?

A small breeze blows on the streets, freezing the tip of your nose. You and Lottie are both silent, letting the sounds of the closing shops fill the air. The silence is not unwelcome, it's calm, it feels right. You feel Lottie's fingers tangle with your own, spreading warmth from your hand to every corner of your body. You are tempted to tell her, to tell her your feelings, but only silence follows. "You are a nice person, you know?" Lottie speaks into the space, and for a moment you think she's talking to somebody else, until you realize you two are the only ones who are walking in this street, having stranded far from the market.

"I am?" she sighs, you are so hard on yourself. "You are. You are beautiful, smart, funny. You are..." she takes a deep breath, steadying herself, "You are someone I wish to be closer to". She stops, looking into your eyes. "I want to be able to... love you" and that last part takes everything out of her, lungs left empty of air and heart hammering inside her ribcage. "Can you let me love you?".

You can't believe what she's saying. Maybe you've died and your brain is just playing fantasies to make you feel less lonely. "Please..." but the grip on your hands tells you otherwise, that you're here, you're here and Lottie just confessed her love for you.

Lottie is sure to have messed up, to have destroyed the only chance she had ever had to form a meaningful relationship outside of that place, outside of the compound, outside of her head-. But the voices stops once you kiss her. It's so tender, so loving that she thinks her heart will break. Happiness and tranquility flow through her veins, into her brain and heart. She touches your arms, any inch of your body to feel closer, her hands fall to your hips. She feels as if all the oxygen in the world won't be enough for her lungs to take in after each kiss, as if all the years in human history won't be enough to love you.

Lisa has finally finished packing. After a long day of work, she truly needs a relaxing bath at the compound. But neither Lottie or you seem to have come back. It's beginning to get late, the sky is already darkening and the way back home is a long one. She leaves her's and Lottie's possessions unattended and searches for the both of you, following the street you have walked down on. There you are: kissing together, street lights shining down on the both of you, shading you in amber colors.

A florist and a beekeeper. A match made in heaven.

[kitorin]

11:47 pm - a.touya

warning for underage drinking, but it's not extreme + unrealistic depiction of alcohol (getting drunk super easily)

"I think he's drunk."

An comments on Touya's current state, exhausted yet blissed out, silver irises zoning out and paying no heed to everything surrounding him.

"Probably." Akito agrees with her, blinking with confusion. Him and Kohane glance at each other, evidently concerned and soon frowning at An.

"You can't blame me— he's never tried alcohol before and asked for it." She retaliates with her arms crossed. "How was I supposed to predict this?"

Akito sighs at the ludicrosity of the dilemma.

"To be fair, you wouldn't really expect someone to get drunk that easily." Though you're defending An you can't deny that it was a stupid decision, this is exactly why Ken looked reluctant to leave the five of you at their place.

Touya finally speaks. "What? 'm not drunk."

Scoffing, Akito responds first. "Says the guy zoning out at his drink and gettin' flushed red."

"... the bubbles look pretty." Only proves Akito's statement.

"You're an idiot at times." Akito mumbles.

And for some reason Touya only bothers to acknowledge that. "But look!" He points the glass to his friend, almost spilling it, Akito reacts faster and pries it out of his hand.

"I'm sure they look very pretty, Touya." He grumbles under his breath, placing the glass out of his reach. Another glare is shot at An, who raises her hands in defeat.

"He wanted to try it!"

"None of us are over eighteen." Livid yet worried, Akito sighs. "Oi, what's the best lie for this situation. He can't go home like this."

"We could tell Ken that he fell asleep? And it's quite late already."

Silently, you thank the gods for Kohane's idea. "Ken's fine with us sleeping over without notice too. We'll be fine."

But An objects. "We are not lying to my dad."

Akito scowls, irritation overpowering concern. "Too bad."

She crosses her arms. "But that's unethical."

"You know what's unethical? Underaged drinking."

An shrugs, as if she weren't the cause of all of this. "It's legal when it's at home."

"With an adult." Touya still seemed dazed out, not heeding mind to the way both An and Akito were yelling. "Your dad wouldn't've let this happen."

"Kohane's basically an adult with her maturity?"

"Don't even try saying that. You let him drink while she was showering and while y/n and I went out to buy snacks."

As the two bicker, Kohane pinches your sleeve for your attention. "Should we stop them? Whether Aoyagi's okay or not is a priority."

In agreement you nod, accompanied by an exhausted sigh. "How about we bring Touya upstairs, to one of your guest rooms." Both An and Akito halt their arguing, intently listening to you. "He's probably just tipsy. He should be fine by the morning." Kohane nods, leaning down to eye level with Touya, who was slumped in his seat.

"Aoyagi, let's go." But he doesn't oblige, whining with soft incoherency instead. "Please?" Her plead is futile, as it goes completely ignored by Touya.

Akito steps forth. "I'll carry him." Toned arms reach for Touya's, the action only being reciprocated by a lazy slap.

"Mean."

He sighs for the nth time. "'m not mean, c'mon." It's futile though, Touya fights back, messily, his sloppy movements were enough to prevent Akito from being able to pick him up properly.

"I'll carry him." You volunteer, and thankfully Touya surrenders to you, relaxing as you haul him onto your back. "First guest room right?"

After nodding and beginning to clean up, An breathed out an apology and thank you, Akito gives up on scolding her, settling down on a seat next to Kohane.

Despite how tall he is, Touya was ridiculously light, allowing you to effortlessly carry him upstairs.

"You need to eat more..." And of course he doesn't respond. Soon you're carefully placing him in bed, searching for any signs of something wrong. You shield him from the cold with the blanket, watching him instinctively curl up into a ball.

"Are we alright now?" Everything seems to be fine, his face is still flushed red and he's basically unconscious, but he's not whining nor complaining. A lack of an answer tells to you to hurry up and leave, even if you already know he's unable to reply. "I'll go then. Good night Touya."

A tight grip on your wrist prevents you from leaving.

"What's wrong?"

"I need you here." He hiccups, now fully conscious.

"Why?"

"Because you're the best." He hiccups again.

"You're just saying that because you're drunk." You redirect his hand to himself, placing it by his side.

Pearly irises of silver stare at you, pleading for you to oblige his request. "No. It's because I like you."

You choke on your own spit at the declaration. "That's enough, just sleep." You've never encountered a drunk person, and it's unfortunate that Touya's the first because of an immature decision An made.

"Only if you'll stay."

Even when he turns eighteen, you note to yourself to never let him get drunk.

But it was refreshing to see Touya behave so childishly. For the time you've known him he's always been so adultlike, stoic and cold—juxtaposing the way An and Akito bicker, or Kohane's tendency to remain glued to a window whenever something piques her interest. The question has always plagued your thoughts, was it simply his personality or did his household not provide the luxury of being a child?

With a sigh you indulge in his request, sitting down on the bed. "You're kind of silly when you're drunk, you know?"

"'m not drunk! You're being like Akito."

"Like Akito?"

"Mean."

You remain silent, but you're stifling a laugh. It doesn't take long for you to give in, bursting out into laughter. "I promise I'm not mean. That's always going to be Akito's job."

"Then stop ignoring my feelings."

The first time it seemed like drunk non sense, drowsy and mindless. But the second time feels different, whether it be the genuine pout of his lips or the solemnity intertwined with his tone.

"It's not fairrr." Touya doesn't bother waiting for a response from you, rambling on while you listen carefully. "I like you so much but you're so far ahead. You're too pretty, how am I supposed to live without you? You're my safe place where I don't have to think about piano or dad. You're so good at sports, and smart, and speaking to people, you've even had alcohol before already."

Is that why he wanted to try some today...?

"You've had alcohol before too, dumbass." He only throws the blanket over his head, out of embarrassment.

"Do you like me too?"

The question repeats in your head, and the answer is obvious to you.

You arise from the bed, kneeling next to it where Touya was cowering underneath the blanket. "I do."

He peeps out of the covers, face wrapped in the doona, silver eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, but I'm not talking to you until you sleep properly, okay?"

Like an eager child, he falls for the bribery, closing his eyes and mumbling out a 'good night'. You reciprocate it, carefully tip toeing in order to let him sleep undisturbed— and on your way to deal with another problem, this time in the form of a certain musician who has a thing for drama.

"And then, you confessed! We got curious and listened through the door."

Touya averts his gaze, instead staring at the cup of black coffee warming his palms. Rose is chalked all over his cheeks as he listens to An recounting last night's events.

"By 'we' she means her." Akito grumbles while sipping from his hot chocolate. "I don't get why she's so obsessed. Congratulations though."

An throws an arm around you. "You should've seen the look on his face when Touya called him mean."

Akito opens his mouth to object, but Kohane speaks first.

"That must've been amazing though, if drinking gave you that much confidence to confess like that."

"Well it wasn't really confidence if I wasn't thinking at all, is it?" The conversation only permeates his cheeks into a darker pink.

"Did you like how alcohol tasted?" Legitimate curiosity is scrawled on her expression and traced onto her tone. "What's being drunk like?"

This time, Akito interrupts Touya. "Who knows? Wanna test it out? Maybe then you'll have the courage to confess to Shiraishi?" The comment leaves you and Touya shocked, eyes flitting between the three of them. An stares at Kohane, whom is already running away with her bag.

"Oi Kohane—come back!" With haste she pulls off her apron and sprints around the counter, tossing it god knows where. "Wait—"

Akito chuckles at the ordeal— the chaos he caused. "Oops. My bad."

(you both know that was damn intentional)

taglist (send an ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[countryclubkook]

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: angst galore, mentions of drugs and alcohol, toxic relationship, language

Summary: everything in your relationship with Rafe has changed, you just want it back

A/N: life has been so very busy for me lately and i haven’t had time to write hardly anything along with the fact that i’ve had such terrible writers block. i sincerely apologize for being gone for so long. this has been sitting in my drafts for quite awhile and i finally got around to finishing it and hope you enjoy🤍

It had always been you and Rafe for as long as you could remember, anywhere he went you went too. The two of you were inseparable as kids and it only furthered as you became teens and began dating. Your relationship was surprising to everyone due to how different Rafe was when it came to you. He took you out for candlelit dinners by the beach, set up picnics at the park, watched the stars with you on warm summer nights, but that all changed when you two graduated.

Rafe's father began demanding more of him since he was now a legal adult and could pull his own weight which only stressed Rafe out. You knew how Ward could get as you had known him for years and worried about how Rafe was handling it. It started with small changes such as less time with you and more time with his father working, but then his personality shifted. He became more irritable and snapped at the smallest of things around him. He began going to more parties and showing up at your house in the middle of the night with bloodshot eyes and pupils dilated only wanting a quick hookup before leaving, he wasn't your Rafe anymore which started the downfall of the relationship.

“What the hell Rafe? this is like the fifth time you’ve done this. What’s going on?” you asked while trying to put your hand on your shoulder only to have it harshly shrugged off.

“Nothing, I'm fine. Why do you care anyway?” he snarled at you while rolling his eyes, already heading for the front door.

“Because I love you Rafe!” you hoped that he would turn around and tell you he was sorry, that his dad has just been putting so much pressure on him and he can’t handle it, but he just kept walking. “Where are you going? We aren’t done talking about this, you can’t just walk away because you want to go snort more lines.” that seemed to snap something inside of him as the next thing you know, you’re pinned against the wall with his arms on both sides of you, the strong smell of weed and whiskey radiating off of him.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about bitch. Stay out of my business and stay away from me. I don’t need you anymore.” you hoped for a second you would see the old Rafe somewhere in his eyes but you could only see hatred swarming around.

“Fuck you. I can’t keep doing this shit with you Rafe” you managed to get out, your voice coming out in a semi broken whisper. A lump in your throat and tears in your eyes that were threatening to spill as he reached the front door without another word or look back at you.

Once he walked out of the house with a loud slam, the only thing you could do was run to your bed and just cry yourself to sleep wanting nothing more than for him to snap out of it. For him to just be the sweet boy that you fell in love with as a kid and stayed in love with throughout your life so far. You wanted your candlelit dinners and picnics as the two of you looked up at the stars on clear nights, you wanted the boy who traced words onto your back with his fingertips and made you guess, you wanted your gentle boy that you weren’t scared to be around back. Deep down, the both of you knew that as soon as morning came, he would be at your doorstep begging for your forgiveness and you would forgive him like you always do. It wasn't good for either of you but it was all you knew, a constant cycle of hurt all for the hope that one day he would love you the same way again.

[fawncr33k]

Incorrect quotes: Fallout 4

Preston Garvey: Wow, I feel happy and I’m having so much fun!

Preston Garvey:

Preston Garvey: *narrows eyes* Something’s wrong here.

Nellie: Why are Hancock and Nick Valentine sitting with their backs to each other?

Preston Garvey: They had a fight.

Nellie: Then why are they holding hands?

Preston Garvey: They get sad when they fight.

X6-88, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here.

Nellie: Hey.

Nelson: Hi.

Hancock: Hello.

Nick Valentine: Hey!

X6-88: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only!

Bayne: We were out of Doritos.

Nick Valentine: *writing a letter*

Nick Valentine: Dear Santa,

I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...

And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard.

Nick Valentine, filling out legal paperwork: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Hancock: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Nellie: I personally was created in a lab.

X6-88: I just straight up spawned lol.

Nick Valentine: Go to hell!

X6-88: Where do you think I come from?

Hancock: Hey, Preston Garvey?

Preston Garvey: Yeah?

Hancock: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Preston Garvey:

Preston Garvey: Where’s X6-88?

Nick Valentine: What do you three have to say for yourself?

Bayne:

Nellie:

Preston Garvey: Oops?

Nick Valentine: I’m scared that when you become rich and famous you’ll be embarrassed by me.

X6-88: Oh Nick Valentine, I’m already embarrassed by you.

Nellie: So, everyone, what does a story NEED?

Hancock: A character!

Preston Garvey: A setting!

X6-88, a gleam in their eyes, in a near-whisper: REVENGE.

X6-88: You have Crayons?

Preston Garvey: Yes, I have—

X6-88: You're— how old are you?

Preston Garvey: YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

Nellie: Is there something you would like to say, Hancock?

Hancock: Oh, there are SEVERAL things I would like to say.

(Nellie is my evil runthrough character, I haven't gotten very far with her, but she joins the institute because her son is there, ignoring what bad things they did)

(Bayne is my current playthrough character, she's joining the railroad/minutemen, she's disgusted by what the institute did)

(Edit: forgot to talk about Nelson. He's Nellie's husband and I had fun with his face in the character creator, I'll draw him soon)

[hyperlexichypatia]

Hi! Something I’ve been wandering is if there is no point where a brain is truly fully developed, then how do we gage what age should be the age of consent? /genuine I was wandering if you have thoughts on that because it’s something I feel pretty befuddled about

First, I'm sorry this answer is a little late, because I had to think about it a little bit. I think this question, which is a good one, has almost two answers -- one for an ideal youth-topia, and one for our current, ageist, kyriarchical, very-much-not-youth-topia world.

Also, heads up, I'm going to be talking about child abuse in a few paragraphs.

In an ideal world, I think children should begin having some say over their lives and bodies as soon as they're able to express their own opinions, but in conjunction with at least one trusted adult to provide guidance. As the child gets older, the balance should gradually shift over time, with the child's opinion gradually carrying more "weight" over time. Then at some fixed end point, which should be no later than the late teens, the new young adult should have 100% autonomy with no oversight (they can still ask for advice -- which I specify because half the time this comes up, someone asks "What if a young adult wants their parents' advice!" and I have to say "Then they can call and ask, it's not illegal").

An adult will have to make pretty much all the decisions for a baby, because babies don't really know what's what. A toddler's decision-making ability mostly maxes out at picking which toy they want to play with and then crying because actually they wanted the other one. But a school-age child can start having some say in the decision-making process and can practice asking questions at the doctor's office, being included in the conversation, having things explained at their level, understanding things like "I know the shot hurts, but it will help keep you from getting sick later," or "I know you don't like taking pills, but they help your headache go away" or "If the pills don't help your headache go away, say so, and we'll ask the doctor for something that works better." And a teenager can really start taking the lead in their own decisions, with guidance, especially if things like making thoughtful decisions, asking questions, weighing pros and cons, and doing research with reliable sources has already been practiced and modeled over the years. And by the time they're in their late teens, they should have sole final say in what happens to their bodies.

But. All of that is very much the "in an ideal world, youth-topia" answer.

We do not live in an ideal youth-topia. We live in a world where many (I'm being generous and not saying "most") adults in positions of influence over children and young people intend to manipulate or exploit them ("for their own good" or otherwise), and it can be really... extremely... difficult to keep kids from being abused or exploited by parents, families, doctors, capitalists, administrators, politicians, and others.

Most of the arguments I get into are about people wanting to raise the age of majority or some other minimum standard for ""real adulthood"" to some age higher than 18, usually invoking some spurious argument about "the brain."

And I will die on the hill that this is wrong and that 18 year olds should be considered full real adults with full bodily autonomy to do whatever they want no matter how unwise anyone thinks it is -- drink, smoke, take medicine, refuse medicine, have sex, have children, get married, have abortions, get their tubes tied, whatever.

Okay, but then you might say, what about 17 year olds? What about 16 or 15? Is an 18 year old really "more mature" than a 17 year old?

Well, no, of course not. The problem is that the legal status of minors is so absolutely abysmal that, within that legal status, it's hard to asses what "consent," let alone "informed consent," even means. It's not that I think a 17 year old isn't "mature enough" to choose to have surgery, say, but an 18 year old is "mature enough." It's that when you have zero (0) legal rights, having the right to make one (1) choice is really constrained.

Throughout the U.S. -- and I'm only going to be talking about the U.S. here because I can't confidently speak to any other country's laws -- it is legal, to varying degrees (and with even more varying degrees of enforcement), for parents to beat their minor children. It is legal, to varying degrees, for parents to restrict their minor children's movement. To restrict their food. To keep them in conditions barely above prison. To send them to "troubled teen" farms that are literally prison. Even if the mistreatment crosses into some threshold of legally actionable "child abuse," there is no guarantee that the law will be at all enforced. There is no guarantee that the abuse will be stopped. At most, the government will remove the child and place them in a foster home which is likely to be just as abusive if not moreso.

I'm not saying that minors shouldn't have the legal right to make more medical and general life choices than they currently do -- they absolutely should -- I'm saying that in the absence of certain basic physical safety guarantees, a technical on-paper "choice" doesn't mean much.

Like, I just said that I would fight for 18 year olds' right to be sterilized or get married, and also, I'm vehemently opposed to sterilization of minors and firmly support raising the minimum marriage age to 18. That's not because I think decision-making maturity and wisdom magically kick in at the 18th birthday. That's because an 18 year old can leave and file assault charges when their parent says "Sign this consent form or I'll beat you and send you to a prison farm."

So... with that in mind... I do think there are ways to protect minors' right to consent. I think people over 12 or 13 should have to give their own consent for any medical procedure that isn't an immediately life-threatening emergency. And ethical doctors shouldn't perform procedures on people they have reason to believe are being coerced.

As for minors seeking out medical procedures, I think we can look at some contextual questions like: Is the need for this procedure urgent or time-sensitive? I.e. is there any reason it can't wait until the person is older? Can someone interview the young person to try to assess whether they're being coerced? Can the young person articulate the risks or give some indication that their choice is informed? Can they talk about how the medicine/treatment/procedure makes them feel? Do any adults benefit financially from the young person's decision? Are they having an undue influence over the young person? (That isn't just about medical treatment, it's also questions like "Why are child beauty pageants a thing?" and "Why do 7 year olds play American tackle football?") Have they been exposed to other points of view?

Obviously these are all really contextual questions that depend on people in power behaving ethically, which... is a lot to depend on.

So. That's my long answer. I guess.

Final note, mostly I'm talking about medical treatment in general and life decisions in general, but I wanted to quickly mention transition and gender-affirming care in particular. I do support youth gender-affirming care. I didn't always. When I first heard about youth transition, I thought it was a risky thing that young people were going to be coerced into. I thought there would be parents coercing their gender non-conforming children into transitioning to the "other" binary gender and doing surgeries on them before they could object. I was wrong. I know that now, after learning more about how youth transition actually works. Doctors involved in gender-affirming care for youth really seem to be doing it right. They interview the young person. They make sure it's really what the person wants. They go slowly at first. The young person has ample time and opportunity to change their mind. I think other forms of health care for youth (looking at you, psychiatry) (looking at you, weight loss) (looking at you, reproductive health) should model themselves on the kinds of youth-affirming, consent-affirming practices that are standard in youth gender-affirming care.

[beeandheroddobsessions]

My Old Man

Pairing: Elvis presley x Black!Female!Reader

Summary: FLUFF! The reader and Elvis watch their grandson’s interview and listen on as he explains why he’s excited to get married.

Warnings: Mention of pills(the kind elderly people take), reminisces, Very breif mention of race issues (like, you’d miss it if you read too fast). I think that’s all but please let me know if there’s more!

A/N: I really like how this one turned out. It took me longer than i thought to read and edit. Plus when the creative juices are flowing i just keep adding. I’m rambling, happy reading!

I’m excited! Tonight, our grandson, Daniel, is being interviewed for one of these late-night shows. I settled into bed and turned the tv on. Elvis is finishing his nighty routine in the bathroom as I search for the right channel. When I find it, he still hasn't made his way out, "Honey, everything okay? You're gonna miss him!" He lets out a huff and mumbles, "Yeah, baby, I can't see the labels on the pills; we've gotta go and get new containers."

I roll my eyes and get up to help him; As I poke my head in, my face connects with my husband's pajama-clad chest "you have no faith in me, woman, alright, come on" he grabs my hand and walks me to the bed. Elvis shimmies under the covers in front of me. "I want to be the little spoon baby," I can't help the chuckle that escapes my chest.

"That's alright, E, but your daddy wasn't no glass maker; you're covering my grandbaby's face" My husband rolls his eyes and scoffs, "well, he stole it from me, Sugar" he stops his grumbling as our grandson's face graces the screen. The interviewer, James, asks him about his new movie and how he's been handling the success. We watch on proudly as he flies through question after question. Soon enough, the topic shifts to his personal life and his fiancee.

"So, Mr. Presley, you're getting married soon. Are you excited?" For the first time in the interview, we see this is where he really engages. He sits up straight, and there's a sparkle in his eye as he begins to speak.

"Please, Daniel is fine. And to answer your question, yes, I'm elated. I've met the woman I want to give my all to. She's the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing I think about before I close my eyes at night." Elvis shifts and wraps his arms around me, smiling as he kisses my temple.

James continues, " She sounds like a lucky girl. If you don't mind me asking, when did you know you wanted to marry her?" This question seems to stump Daniel; Elvis and I are invested now. We both sit up like kids listening in on adults gossiping. He starts again, "Well, if I'm, being honest, I knew the moment I met her."

James raises an eyebrow "really?" He questions, and Daniel nods.

"Yeah. Actually, It was my granddad who helped me figure that out." Elvis and I exchange a quizzical look.

"See, a few years ago, when I was like, fifteen, I asked him how he knew my grandma Y/N was the one. He told me that for him, the world stopped spinning, she took his breath away, and at that moment, she became the only woman he could see."

"Only woman, huh? I'm something special," I say as I nudge E with my elbow. His chest rumbles as he laughs "you sure are, honey, you sure are" James takes a moment to process what our grandson said. "Mrs. Presley is a lucky woman,"

Daniel laughs " Yeah, she tries to pretend that she could live without him, but you should see her when theyre apart, just miserable..." I can feel the smug look plastered on Elvis’s face without having to look, it only lasts a moment though "...Papa E ain't no better. I think he might be worse," He laughs.

James doesn't miss a beat. "Are you hoping for your marriage to play out like theirs?"

Daniel hums, "Oh absolutely, I mean not the struggle..." he says.

"…They had to fight even to be together legally; I think that's why they love each other as much as they do. One time I caught them slow dancing in the kitchen, no music or nothin'. They have such a strong bond, and I want to create something similar with my wife. Just two old souls in love." he says with a smile.

I feel my heart swell, and my eyes water a bit as I realize just how far we've come. Of course, Elvis has to go and ruin the moment. "Who's that boy callin' old?" I wipe my face with a smile "oh, hush up, El."

Daniel continues, "I just hope I get to be as happy as they are when I'm that old" Elvis can't help himself. "He said it again!" I hit him in the chest this time. "He's praising us, and you're worried about him saying we're old,"

Elvis chuckles at my disbelief. "That's 'cause we ain't, mama." I shake my head.

They begin to wrap the interview up " well, I'm sure I speak for all of us here at the studio when I say I wish you the best at this milestone and the ones to come. Unfortunately, that's all we have time for, so this has been Daniel Presley! Goodnight, everybody!"

Daniel and James wave goodnight. As the outro plays, I start to think about everything E and I have been through, and my lips start to curl into a smile as I look up at him.

"We did good, El" I murmer, he nods in agreement. "Damn right, baby, I love you," and the war begins, but I try to get ahead of him. "I love you more. Goodnight."

Before I even have the opportunity to roll over, he grips me tight flipping me so im facing him, " Uh Uh. Nice try, Honey. I love you most now Goodnight."

"Oh please, Impossible. I love you most, E" he raises a brow "you do now? You love me so much you'll do anything for me, right?" He questions. I wonder where he's going with this. I cave and respond, "Mmm, yes, E," I can see the mischief in his eyes " Then admit that I love you most, sugar," He says. Sigh, I've been beaten. I refuse to go out without a fight, though.

"Okay, only because it's you. My old man." He shoots up quickly "HEY-" I duck under the covers and close my eyes.

"Goodnight, baby!" I laugh . He huffs and pulls me close. "Goodnight, my old lady."

Taglist: @tacozebra051 @elvisshowusyourpelvis @thatbanditqueen @sunnyx07 @18lkpeters @thesweetestinspiration @pennyroyalcreep @marriedtopresley @jen6832 @kendralavon7

[animeomegas]

amy i just had a THOUGHT. can naras have a nara as their obsession? because i was reading your shikamaru and his obsession hcs AND if it's possible, i think it would be so sweet if his obsession is a nara and said nara has shikamaru as their obsession 😭 it would sort of be like a soulmate thing?? idk i just like the idea. CONGRATULATIONS ON 4K, BTW!!!!!!!!!!!! very very happy for you, totally deserved!!!!! i hope you're having a good year so far<3 take care!!!!!

This is seriously big brain, @raincosm!!!! Mutual Nara obsessions, omg, the potential!!!

(And yes, technically they'd have to be related, but shhh, they would be very, very distantly related cousins, and maybe the reader is only half Nara too, idk haha.)

But omg, the chaos potential. They would both be obsessive and ready to get married in about five seconds. I'm imagining them meeting as children and then having to be physically restrained from getting married as soon as they become genin at 12 and are technically legal adults lol.

Shikaku's soul would probably just leave, he'd be so done with their antics.

It would be like a lowkey, soft double yandere situation, and it would be amazing...

I'm definitely going to think on this and add to it in the future hehe

And thank you!!! I hope you are also having an amazing year too, you deserve it! <333