#3490 words about

[lemonsharks]

Ok, which one-a y'all is making radblr posts show up on my "for you" tab? Bueller???

😒

Time for a refresher course

On this blog we:

Respect trans people and nonbinary people and nonbinary trans people and additional people not specified as the bosses of their personal genders

Embrace that no one is the boss of anyone else's gender

Understand that cis is a prefix and maybe an adjective, not a pronoun and definitely not a slur

See the parallels between radfems and the reactionary right and recognize it's a different cover on the same book

Embrace that consenting adults can have any kind of sex they want from "all the + extremely kinky" to "none of the + literal vanilla extract" and it's not just ok it's fan fucking tastic (or fan notfucking tastic)

Accept and embrace that men are not unilaterally The Worst

Lean hard not on "think the children! 📿✊" but on "continuously educate the children in an age appropriate way, uplifting them as they establish and maintain boundaries suited to their own comfort levels, which change and refine as they grow." Even when it's difficult or inconvenient. ESPECIALLY when it's difficult or inconvenient.

And so forth into the universe until the end of time

[msbarrybeeson]

Before You Go | Future Donnie & April Insight (Part VI)

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot. 

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count:  ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

~

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak. 

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor. 

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples. 

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..” 

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....” 

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching. 

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles. 

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.” 

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?” 

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close. 

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.” 

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?” 

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips. 

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile. 

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?” 

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked. 

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.” 

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!” 

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!” 

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back. 

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.” 

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.” 

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.” 

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.” 

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

[thepaperpanda]

A rekindled jealousy || Neteyam & Ao’nung & Tuk x fem!Omaticaya reader

Summary: When you leave the Omaticaya clan behind, your entire life changes. You may have a hard time adjusting to Metkayina's ways, but you use the opportunity to wake some jealousy in Neteyam

Warnings: fluff & a little bit of angst  ( ✓ Tuk being a little naughty, inquisitive shit  ✓ Ao'nung being visibly into the reader  ✓ jealous Neteyam) ♥

Word count: 3490

Authors: Cass & Fenrir

A/N: Divider by wonderful firefly-graphics

We will adapt, his father said. Adaptation is inevitable, it's not like we have a choice. Adaptation had multiple meanings, and the Sully siblings defined it in their own way. For Kiri, adaptation required finding an inner peace that would make day-to-day tasks much easier. As for Tuk, it meant leaving everything she used to know behind and learning anew how to function among the other clan. In Lo'ak's case, the process was about discovering his inner self - knowing your fears was the path to becoming one with the water. Accordingly, for Neteyam adaptation meant being obedient and following his parents' orders. As the oldest, he knew that getting into trouble was the last thing they needed right now; he would again be punished by his father and grounded, for life this time, there was no doubt.

Despite not being a part of Neytiri's family, you became close to her as her friends' daughter, and Neyam was delighted that his parents had taken you along with them - after your parents died in yet another battle against RDA, Jake Sully's wife decided to care for their daughter. You became his best friend after many years spent together, and the fact that you were female didn't change anything - the eldest son of Jake and Neytiri was treating you like the best buddy, hanging out with you as much as possible. Despite moving to a brand-new location because of Quaritch and his buddies, Neteyam still preferred to spend time with you, diligently learning new things from Metkayina.

As you sat on a large rock, frowning, you tried your finest to weave nets. As you tapped your tail angrily against the hard surface, your fingers continued to work on your latest yet unsuccessful attempt; at least this was slightly better than the previous one. As each second passed, you grew more and more annoyed.

Little did you know that Ao'nung and his friends were observing you from a distance. Following a brief exchange of glances with his friends, he approached you. Even though he wasn't a big fan of the Sully family, you seemed so different from them, which made you more appealing. In addition, you had four fingers, so you weren't as strange as those Sullys' demon kids. "Y/N, right? I see you're struggling with weaving," he smiled at you and offered, "Why don't you join my friends and me in the water instead?"

You looked at your messed up work and then at him; maybe continuing wasn't necessary at the moment - your fingers hurt and you were getting frustrated, so you decided a small break was needed. Also, that could be very interesting. You smiled back and nodded, "I'd love to." Rotxo nodded his head in agreement as Ao'nung looked at him. "Let's go, it would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day weaving," Ao'nung encouraged you to leave your work behind.

Tuk, the youngest Sully, saw the entire situation and then decided to inform her older brother about what she had seen.

One last look at your nets convinced you that there was no point in trying. Your curiosity led you to follow Ao'nung after leaving your work behind.

"So, how do you like it here?" Ao'nung asked, glancing at you with a certain amount of curiosity. 

"It's completely different," you replied, your tail flicking from side to side. "There's a lot of water. It's a little unusual for me."

Rotxo laughed a bit at your words. "You tree people can only cling to your lianas, right?" 

Ao'nung glanced coldly at Rotxo, conveying his anger towards him. Tonowari's son told you, "Forgive my friend, he's a little crude. Have you already interacted with ilu?" He asked, trying to change the topic.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you hissed offendedly, "Well, he isn't really funny. Well, we can do a lot more than that. And about your question, I'm sorry but I'm not even sure what ilu is," you admitted a bit embarrassed.

Another Ao'nung's friend commented, "She doesn't even know what ilu is, that's ridiculous," but was instantly hit in the back of the head by Tonowari's son.

"An ilu is intelligent, sociable, and easily domesticated animal serves the reef clans, including our clan, as direhorses serve the Na'vi clans of the forests and jungles," Ao'nung explained softly, looking at you. "Do you feel afraid?"

Your interest was piqued by the description of the animal. With your tail moving equally eagerly, you enthusiastically shook your head. "Me? Afraid? No! That sounds fascinating! I'd love to see it." Ao'nung slowly stepped into the water until it reached his muscular calves, then he turned his head to see if you were following. As soon as he was sure you were right behind him, he offered you his hand.

Smiling softly, you took his hand and followed him into the water. Compared to what you were doing moments ago, this was much better, you thought to yourself. The two of you were watched from a distance by Ao'nung's friends, who stayed on the shore. They had no idea that they weren't the only ones watching...

The sound Ao'nung made was like whistling after he clicked his tongue several times. A loud chirping ilu emerged from the water shortly afterward.

"It's loud!" you giggled, feeling even more captivated by the creature. "Are you sure I or you won't be eaten by it?"

"Ilu? Don't worry, they won't bite if they're not bothered. Come, pet it slowly," he advised. 

As you nodded slowly, you drew a little closer and gently petted the animal.

Ilu turned his head to you and chirped loudly in anticipation, blinking both pairs of its eyes. A gentle, inviting touch was evidently enjoyed by the animal, whose skin was soft to the touch.

In response to your very first interaction with the ilu, Ao'nung smiled. "You see? No biting."

A giggle escaped your lips, and you nodded in agreement. "I really like how soft and cute it is, and there is no biting at all. I didn’t know they’re so friendly!”

After seeing a small wave coming, he took a step closer to you and put his hand on your waist, supporting you from falling to your back due to the strong drift. "I told you it was worth trying." 

"It would be appreciated if the waves were not so strong," you joked and politely thanked him for the support he provided. "In fact, it was well worth trying. This creature is so sweet and soft. If I weren't scared, I'd cuddle it."

"There's nothing stopping you from doing so," he said as his hand stayed on your waist. "First, I would suggest creating a bond, it's safer that way."

Meanwhile, Neteyam joined Ao'nung's friends on the shore. Watching you cooperate with the ilu while sitting under the warm sun was a cute way to spend his spare time. Everything would have been perfect if Ao'nung hadn't been doing everything he could to get closer to you. In the end, Neteyam let out a deep sigh - it seemed you were more interested in Metkayina lately, and he was helpless about it; his only concern was your widely understood happiness.

Your eyes widened when you noticed Neteyam with the corner of your eye. You hummed, pretending to think about Ao'nung's offer. This could make things even more interesting. Immediately, you became more flirtatious with Ao'nung. "Are you really bringing me here just to show me the ilu?"

A cheerful smile was given to you by Tonowari's son, who also petted ilu's head. "Why are you asking, Y/N? I was simply trying to relieve you of the unneeded job you were assigned."

With a soft smile, you teased, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was hoping for more from you, but apparently I was mistaken..."

With a bold move, he touched your shoulder with his palm as he asked, "More like? You know how much I value your friendship more than Sullys', so I'm willing to lend a helping hand whenever I can."

"Friendship may always evolve into something more," you shrugged, still petting the ilu's head.

While chirping loudly, ilu poked you in the side with its velvety muzzle. "We could always give it a chance, Y/N. What do you think?" Ao'nung asked as his hand climbed up your shoulder and landed in your crook of the neck.

"Maybe?" You purred as if you were considering it. Of course, you didn't care about any of this, all you cared about was Neteyam's reaction. Although you felt disappointed with the lack of response so far, you decided to keep trying and maybe coax it out of him.

You were so skilled at pretending that Ao'nung leaned forward, closed his eyes, and attempted to kiss you.

It was enough for Neteyam. When he got up to his feet, he got as close to the water as possible without getting in. Neteyam shouted, "What the hell are you doing, Ao'nung?"

Gasping, you took two small steps away from Ao'nung before looking at Neteyam. Oh, he was angry! "Neteyam, what's wrong?" You asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.

The grunt grew louder as Ao'nung opened his eyes and stared at Neteyam as well. "What's your problem, bro?"

"You're acting a bit too brazen, bro, and that's my problem. Leave Y/N alone," Neteyam said after issuing a warning; his eyes were then fixed on you. "Come on, Y/N, I think you still need to finish some things."

Your lips were softly curled into a smile as you whispered, "Yes, I believe I do."

Ao'nung was the first to exit the water, leaving ilu behind. "Well, well, well, look at that, Sully's into our sweet, little Y/N," he mocked, rolling his eyes.

Once you had given the ilu one last pet, you followed Ao'nung towards the shore, thinking how the situation would unfold.

Once Ao'nung got onto the shore, he pushed Neteyam's shoulder strongly with wry words followed by a snort, "Shall I remind you about your position here, Sully? You better be on your best behaviour, as your father suggested."

A frown could be seen on Neteyam's face, but he tried hard to maintain his composure. "Y/N, let's go."

"What's your problem, Net? We didn't do anything wrong, he was just showing me what ilu is." 

Tuk, who was partially hidden behind Neteyam's legs, peered out and frowned at you. "We've been here for a while, and you still don't know anything about ilu? Eywa, please hold me tight, I can't deal with Y/N."

Neteyam ruffled his sister's hair and stared at you before saying, "I heard Ronal asked you to help with nets, and you heard what my parents said about us being guests here? We need to adapt and do whatever it takes to avoid being considered useless."

Putting yourself behind Ao'nung, you frowned. "I try to be useful, but making nets is boring and not meant for me? This just seems more fun."

Tuk stuck her tongue out at you, her glance full of concern. "Mom won't be happy."

"Hush," Neteyam whispered to Tuktirey while looking at Ao'nung. "As the chief's son, you should be more reasonable and help Y/N with the tasks she's assigned to."

Your head rested on Ao'nung's shoulder as you gazed at Neteyam. You teased, "Is it your only concern? Or are you simply jealous?"

Neteyam had already had enough of your behaviour - he thought he had shown you many times that you were more valuable to him, yet you seemed more interested in that thick piece of a man, called Ao'nung. "Maybe."

Ao'nung smiled even wider as you patted his shoulder before walking up to Neteyam to take his hand. "Maybe? Just maybe?"

From nowhere, the argument grew into a tornado. The intensity of Neteyam's rage blinded him to your heart and soul. His hand snatched back from your grasp as he snapped at you, "Don't. It seems that Ao'nung has nothing but hots for you, and since you seem to be more than interested, we won't bother you anymore in spending your time with our host. Tuk, come."

The little girl followed her brother enthusiastically, but of course she couldn't help but glance back at you, laying her ears and hissing, showing her perfect, sharp fangs.

It didn't work out as you thought it would; you laid your ears down and hissed back at her, crossing your arms over your chest. A deep sigh was heard from you as you excused yourselves and followed them quickly.

The fact that you followed Sullys was mocked by Ao'nung. "Come on, Y/N! We still might have some fun!”

"Apparently Y/N is more into the eldest of the Sully brothers," Rotxo replied to his friend, and Tonowari's son punched him hard in the side, giving him the coldest look he has ever given to anyone as a warning.

"Neteyam! Tuk! Wait for me!” You shouted after them, attempting to line up with the siblings.

Meanwhile, Neteyam sat on the rock where you had left your unfinished nets.

Since she was angry that you were playing with her beloved brother in such a cruel way, Tuk ignored you perfectly.

After softly sighing, you decided to sit right next to him. "Neteyam... Talk to me. I am sorry for angering you so much."

He answered, "I'm not furious," and continued to work on the weave with his long fingers.

While playing with the sand, Tuk giggled, "He's not angry, he's mad."

"Could you play somewhere else? I want to talk to him alone," you hissed at her.

Tuk stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Don't order me, you're not my mother."

With a sigh, Neteyam told his younger sister to return to their hut and assist Kiri and mother with whatever they were doing.

The young girl complied with her brother's instructions while grunting loudly in annoyance.

You looked at him and sighed, "At least she listens to you. So, will you talk to me?”

"About?"

Then you moved closer to help him weave the net and whispered quietly, "About what happened. I didn't mean to anger you. I'm sorry for leaving my job. It just seemed like a nice offer and I was super flustered."

Without even glancing at you, he asked bitterly, "The offer or Ao'nung?"

Chuckling, you gently pinched his finger and continued to work. "The offer, as I mentioned earlier."

"Yeah. I bet."

"Neteyam," you said, taking his hand in your palm, "Why did you get so angry about me hanging out with him?"

"Hanging out with him, that's the clue," he said angrily, pulling his hand out of your grasp, weaving angry until his fingertips began to hurt - only then Neteyam threw the net away and after letting out a deep sigh, he massaged his temples. "Is he that interesting? Apparently, you were the one who said reef people were strange and unappealing."

"It wasn't because of him, but because I wanted to see an ilu," you explained, rolling your eyes. "There was a chance it would eat him rather than me in the event of an accident."

Neteyam was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but your comment made him giggle. "If only ilus could be as vicious as akulas, Ao'nung's issue might have been resolved long ago."

A smile spread across your face as you raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "You'd like that, huh?"

Prior to replying, Neteyam improved his necklace and waved his tail. "Maybe."

Your tail wiggled happily as you placed your chin on his shoulder with a mischievous smile. "I'm sure you would love that, hm? You wouldn't have to worry about someone stealing me from you."

"It's not like that, Y/N. We're just friends, you and I."

"Well..." you sighed deeply, "I'm disappointed to hear that, because I really wanted something more."

You were given a serious look as he asked, "Just like with Ao'nung, huh?"

As you gasped, you smacked his back with your tail. "I tried to get your attention by making you jealous. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He grinned widely as he asked, "So you tried to make me jealous? Well, it appears you are interested in me, and I am flattered by that."

You whined, "Yes! I'm interested in you, but you're only paying attention to me in a friendly manner."

"And how do you know that, smartass?"

Blinking, you shrugged lightly. "That's how I felt."

"Then you must be blind."

You turned away and crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be offended. "I'm not, it's just that your signs weren't clear enough." 

In this case, Neteyam rested his chin against the crook of your neck, looking at you from your profile. "How many times did I accidentally catch your hand? How many times did I say there was no one but you? How many times did I skip my duties just to spend time by your side?"

You leaned against him, "I just thought it was because I was an orphan who your mother had taken care of and you took care of me because this was what your parents expected you to do."

With you by his side, Neteyam was able to relax his nerves as he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun kissing his skin. "How wrong you were, Y/N."

"Now I know. What should we do about it?"

"Have you thought of anything in particular?"

Shrugging, you replied, "No. How about you?"

"My guess is that it's the part when you kiss her, Neteyam," tiny tone suggested. Nobody else but Tuk observed the entire situation while hiding among nearby bushes.

While eldest Sully facepalmed for not expecting his little sister to spy on him, he knew deep down she was right. In barely a second, he placed a hand on your cheek and rubbed you there with his thumb, before leaning forward to rub his nose against yours and briefly kiss your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggled quietly and kissed him back. The happiness made your tail move like crazy.

A small Omaticaya girl shook her head and kept quiet during the scene.

As your taste spilled over Neteyam's tongue, he murmured in pleasure.

With a mischievous smile, you pulled away and rubbed your noses together. "It was worth it to piss you off."

"Prove it."

"I love you, not Ao'nung," you rolled your eyes and kissed him once more.

Tuk's tone was filled with happiness as she chanted, "I feel love in the air! Y/N and Neteyam, Neteyam and Y/N! Nanana! Love is oh so in the air!"

When Neteyam returned the kiss, he felt all his angst and anger disappear quickly, having been eased by your words and feeling that they came from the depths of your heart.

After letting him kiss you for a moment, you pulled away when you needed to breathe deeply. "Is this proof enough for you, my love?"

"Yes."

"What did our little spy think of what she saw?" You asked Tuk loudly.

With a stick she found in the bushes, Tuk emerged from her hiding spot and approached the two of you. "It was pretty cute, but still eww, just like mom kissing dad. Just remember I will keep a close eye on you, Y/N, and I won't hesitate to inform Neteyam if I see you hanging out with those beefy, turquoise fellas again," she warned, getting on her brother's lap. "And now tell me: will you two eventually tie the knot?"

You rolled your eyes and ruffled her hair. "One day, maybe, when we decide we want to be together forever."

"Tuk, please," Neteyam poked Tuktirey's shoulder. "Little one, that is none of your business."

"What? I have to be ready," Tuk looked at you while shrugging her shoulders. "I believe you'd make a stunning bride! I could look after your future kids! I would play with them!"

"TUK!" Neteyam paled a little, pulling on his sister's braid. "That’s enough."

A smug smile appeared on your face. "I would like to have kids, so long as they aren't like their future aunt."

Neteyam laughed, shoving Tuk off his lap and returning to weaving. "Please, don't encourage her, Y/N."

Tuk initially nodded joyfully in response to your comments, but when she realised what you were saying, she crossed her arms over her chest, which, unfortunately, was the same moment she slipped from Neteyam's lap. She snarled at you while sitting on her butt in the sand. "I'll keep it in mind, Y/N, and I'll tell mom!"

Laughing, you took Neteyam's hand. "I guess we'll see about that. Right?"

As he stroked your palm, he smiled at you brightly. "Yes. The feelings I have for you are something I am looking forward to discovering and exploring."

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 2

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explict

Word Count: 3490

Summary: You both try to to talk things over and goes about as well as expected.

Warnings:  Smut, Oral (Male receiving), Tension, Miguel working out in sweats (That deserves a warning, shut up)

AO3

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Series Masterlist

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Chapter 2

Training Session

“You release, like, pheromones, right?”

Jess chokes on her coffee at the question.“Jesus, warn a girl!” she coughs into her elbow.

“Sorry.” you hand her a few napkins as a pitiful peace offering. You both had two missions scheduled for today and decided to meet up in the lunchroom for a quick coffee and catch up.

You feel a little bad for bringing it up so abruptly, but to be honest you weren’t sure how else you could have possibly said it. Probably a million other ways.

She’d once mentioned this particular odd little power some time when you first joined. It was just some joke in passing but in light of new developments in your own powers, you were suddenly interested.

“I call it a Spider-Aura.” she clarifies with a laugh/ cough, “Please call it a Spider-Aura.”

“Okay, sorry. Spider-Aura. What’s it do?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

It’d been two weeks since your last… interaction with Miguel. You hadn’t even been to the citadel since then. You're not sure if you were dreading coming back or praying for it. You’d been mulling over your feelings about it the entire time. O’Hara occupied an unreasonable portion of your daily thoughts at this point. You just wanted answers, and he was the only person to get them from.

But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t try get answers elsewhere. Jess was the best you had.

“I can’t be curious about my co-workers?” you answer Jess. It’s not entirely a lie.

“Pfft, curious. Sure.” She chuckles, taking a small sip of her latte, “It’s not something I use much. Only comes in handy every once in a while with interrogations and such.”

“Oh, interrogations,” You lean forward with a smile to lighten the mood, “Sounds intimate.”

“Shut up,” She playfully kicks you under the table, “It can relax people. Makes them… trust me more. People are more willing to talk when they think you're a friend. When they think they’ll get something from you out of it. It works on everyone. Human and super-human alike.”

You're intrigued, “Can you turn it on and off?”

“No. It’s always masked over. A formula of my own design.”

“I always wondered why you smelled like fresh lilac with a hint of chem-lab.”

“Spider-Woman, now available from Burberry,” Jess joked back, “What’s this really about?”

“New villain back home,” you quickly lied, feeling a pit of guilt drop in your stomach, “I just feel… off around him. Asking around to see if anyone else has dealt with the same.” Well, the last part wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Mmm,” she hums, taking another sip. You’re not entirely sure she buys it. “Is he hot? Are you irresistibly attracted to him? ‘Cause that’s part of it. Having pheromones, and all.”

It’s your turn to choke on your cheap coffee. It’s only fair.

“Oh my god, you are!” she points an accusing finger, “You’re falling for a villain!”

“NO!” You feel your cheeks heating, “He’s my new arch nemesis for all I know!”

“Sure, nemesis,” she clicks her tongue with a smug smile, “Your nemesis you can’t stop thinking about screwing. I’m gonna have to report you if it goes that far.”

“JESSICA!”

Like a gift from the heavens, both your watches go off. You’d never been so happy to receive a mission alert. The team is leaving in 2 minutes. You both chuck the last of your coffee and take off down the tower.

“Don’t think I’ll drop this!” Jess shouts at you, that stuck-up smile still painted on her face. You only roll your eyes in response. You’re not sure if her info helped or not, but it was at least something. Pheromones that influence the others around you. It was a possibility.

God, if she only knew.

Mostly you're just irritated with how right she was, even if she didn’t know who she was talking about— You couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Miguel O’Hara.

—

The spider tower had so many luxuries you never knew you were missing in your life. The main one everyone seemed to appreciate most were the training facilities. Not just a gym, but an entire wing specifically designed with spider training in mind.

Various surfaces for crawling, absurdly large weights, a ridiculous gymnastics area— they thought of it all.

After years of teaching yourself how to do this job under the judging gaze of New York City, you took advantage. You could always improve, and now you could do it amongst your people instead of having hundreds of pedestrians recording you for Twitter.

That was another luxury of Spider Society. Just being out of the eye of the public but still openly being a spider person. That was the real gift Miguel created. You were all here to do good and save the world, sure, but now you did it together.

Taking on the role of the spider always came with a set of unsaid rules. One of which was ‘It’s all depending on you, so you have to do it yourself.’ More of an unhealthy mindset than a rule but it was still a conclusion most of you had come to in your journey. With great power and all that jazz.

Another unsaid rule was relationships. Some spider’s seemed to live happy lives and make it work, but for the most part, you were all solo acts. You learned that one early too.

People that get close, get hurt. Everyone’s at risk so you have to keep everyone at arms length to keep them safe. That bullshit lone wolf story every hero has. It’s cliche and stupid, but it’s completely true.

You had countless losses in your life. Countless tragedy. They made you who you are. It was, unfortunately, another part of the job and something you all grappled with.

But again…not alone. Not anymore.

Your missions this morning were practically open and closed. Quick and easy villain grabs and you were back by lunch. Thankfully, Jess had some other projects to check up on, so she couldn’t drill you on your conversation this morning. With any luck, she’ll have forgotten about it by the next mission.

You decide to head into the training area before heading home, wanting to get in some strength and web training. Part of being Spider-Woman was giving a good aerial show, and your show could use some work. You loved being a performer on top of a superhero, what can you say? Just, yet another, part of the job— a slightly more fun part.

The floor of the massive facility was dedicated to equipment, obstacles, and sparing rings, and the hundreds of feet of open space above was for swinging. To an average person, the space would make absolutely no sense. Weight machines with hundreds of pounds as the minimum, random pillars and walkways shooting around at every diagonal— fucking basketball courts on walls. For all of you, it was a playground.

The swinging traffic seemed low for once, so you decide to start with that.

When you were a teenager, your older sister tried to get you into running. She was a cross-country star. The walls of her room were full of countless medals and trophies. She was beautiful, confident, popular— everything you weren’t in high school. Still, she never shamed you for it. She was your best friend, through and through. Being your best friend, she saw what your lack of confidence did to your morale. Running was her happy place, and she wanted you to join it.

You fucking hated it. A certain spider incident hadn’t changed your life forever at that point, and you weren’t remotely athletic. Even the easiest of physical tasks were taxing. Still, you tried for her. She was sharing something she loved with you— and you loved her. You wanted to make her proud.

“It's just so peaceful,” she would tell you, “I feel untouchable. Like I can do anything.”

You later learned she was describing a runner's high. She made a hobby out of constantly chasing that feeling, but you never caught up to her.

It wasn’t until years later you felt something close to what she was describing— when you were web-swinging.

It was the thing that came the easiest to you when you started. Every movement came so naturally. It was instinctual— like this is what you were always meant to do. The rushing air, the heart-pounding drops, and swoops. This was your runner's high. Your peaceful place. No one could take that away from you.

Almost no one.

Midswing, your new, most hated, sense hit you like a fucking freight train. Miguel was here. You catch yourself on the closest wall, at least 3 stories above the training floor. Your eyes quickly scan the gym. You eventually spot his broad frame walking towards the gymnastics area— dressed in fucking grey sweatpants? You notice his head darting ever so slightly from side to side as he walks.

He was looking for you too.

You quickly crawl behind a nearby pillar, hiding from his line of sight. You really didn’t wanna do this right now. Your workout was ruined. You should just cut your losses and go home while you can. There’s plenty to do in your dimension. You’ve got so much to do— you should really go do whatever the fuck it was instead.

You follow him to a corner of the gymnastics area, watching the spider people part in front of his path like a sea. They weren’t afraid of him, he wasn’t some authoritarian leader. But he was deeply respected. He was loved for what he built here— For what he was doing. Trying to hold the fabric of reality together is rather respectable, you guess.

With how proudly he carried himself, he never seemed egotistical about it all. He never asked for different treatment. You were all clearly equal here. Hell, he was casually walking into the public gym in fucking sweatpants and a teeshirt. He trained with all of you. He ate with all of you. He fought with all of you. He was no different from any other spider. At least that’s how he wanted to be seen, you think.

He decides to start with the high bar. He leaps up and starts a routine, effortlessly balancing his weight through some, obviously, very practiced movements. If your shared spider sense was distracting him, he didn’t show it. His face remained placid and focused— It freaked you out a little bit, honestly.

He ends the routine landing on a handstand you swear he holds for 10 years. Even by spider standards, he was impressive. He had to have gotten those damn shoulders from somewhere. His shirt rides up to his chest and you bite your lip at the sight.

Fucking creep- You scold yourself.

He does a few other perfectly practiced routines in a few other areas. Double rings, tight rope, yoga strength holds— all very lackadaisical things in comparison to the rest of what the spider gym had to offer. Between his sets, you notice he still glances around trying to find you.

It’s like you’re lured in. You lose track of how long you’ve been watching him. Your spider-sense has taken the wheel and you're too fascinated to look away. Like watching a bug under a microscope— A really hunky bug.

He’s about to leave the gymnastics area when he pauses. He looks up, and spots you instantly, his eyes like daggers. He gives a small smirk as if to say ‘So, there you are.’

You give him a small wave back— You're not sure if it’s incredibly stupid or incredibly cocky.

You hold each other's gaze for a beat longer before he nods his head to the side, clearly gesturing to something. You look over to see it was in the direction of the training rooms— the private training rooms. When you look back he’s already heading for one. You’re already crawling towards them before you can stop yourself.

You’d only used the training rooms a handful of times. They were just for practicing hand-to-hand combat and reaction time. Projections of various foes attack you while you fend them off the best you can. Advanced VR, really. But the rooms were dark and small— and soundproof.

He’s standing in the center, back turned, when you you walk in. You lock the door behind you.

“I don’t appreciate being spied on,” He huffs, turning to face you.

“I don’t appreciate you staring me down like a piece of meat since I got here, so consider us even,” You spit back. “And is it really spying if you knew I was there the whole time?”

“Maybe you’re just a really bad spy.” He takes a step toward you.

“I must be a halfway decent spy if I got into the most exclusive strike force club in the whole multiverse. Your bar routine could use some work,” You joke with a small laugh. His face remains sullen. Okay then. “What do you want, O’Hara?”

“I want it to stop. I want you to stop.” He grunts. “Have you tried to just…I don’t know, turn it off?”

“Oh, wow, I never thought of that before.” You say completely monotone.

Wasn’t he supposed to be a super-scientist?

“Well, I don’t know!” He retorts, “You’re doing something.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing!” you exasperatedly wave your arms, “And apparently neither do you! I thought it was blatantly obvious I’m just as confused as you are!”

He lets out a grunt of frustration, kicking his gym bag into the nearest wall. He pauses for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“When did it start?” he finally asks.

“The first time I saw you.” You answer.

“Me too.” He starts to pace, mumbling to himself. Did he really just invite you in here to watch him think?

“Do you release pheromones?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

He halts instantly, “Qué?” his expression says it all, really.

“I just… heard it was a thing. Could be something.” You look away, cheeks reddening.

He immediately dismisses you, continuing his pacing. This entire time your spider sense has been building. It was a dull hum in the back of your head on the training floor, but now alone in the same room… it was getting hard to ignore. And you were getting anxious it might become something more— again.

Just the thought of it made your spine tingle. Whatever this was making you feel this way, he simply had to feel it too.

“Why did you do that?” you ask softly. He turns towards you, “In the hallway the other week. Why did you do that?”

His entire demeanor relaxes, dropping his shoulders and face softening. He glances away. Was he… embarrassed? Miguel O’Hara was shy. Who knew?

He hesitated for a moment, “I… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It just—”

“It told you to do it.” You finish for him.

He looks at you in a way you hadn’t seen before, “No. Kinda.” He stammers over his words. “It felt like I needed it. I needed something and I couldn’t… stop.”

You let empty air settle for a moment before taking a step towards him.

“Do you feel it right now?”

The answer is so clearly painted on his face, but you can’t help but feel he’s mirroring you. If you were truly linked somehow, you knew exactly what he was thinking. It’s been building since you entered the room.

You run your hand down his broad chest, settling your grip on his waistband. His breath hitches as you run your fingers between the hem and his taut stomach. You see his cock twitch in his pants. You slowly back him against the closest wall.

Your hand dips under his waistband, gabbing his throbbing cock at the base— your fingers don’t even touch. You drag your hand up his length. He leans his head back with a hiss at the sensation. You hold back a smile at the sight.

“My turn.” You whisper, lowering to your knees. You drag his sweats down his thighs and his cock springs free. Holy shit is all you think. He was massive. With how large of a person he was in general, you should have expected this, but— yeah, holy shit.

You run your tongue along his length, swirling it around the tip. You lap up his single bead of pre cum. His hips shutter and you take him completely.

“Dios…” He sighs breathlessly, grabbing the back of your head. You start bobbing up and down, wetting his whole cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’d had before, admittedly. Somehow that made you enjoy this even more. You always liked a challenge.

You fight back the urge to gag as you take him deeper, his tip already pressing against the back of your throat. You swallow around him and he bucks into you, pushing himself the rest of the way. Your nose tickles the curly black hair at his base.

“There you go,” He moans. You take a deep breath before you start to move again, taking him to the hilt each time, “Eso es, nena.”

Even though you don’t know what he says exactly, it’s obvious they’re words of encouragement— and maybe adoration. It only fuels you to go faster. You feel his grip tighten on the back of your head as you pick up the pace. Good.

The thing about soundproof rooms is that it’s only you there. Not the faintest hum of the outside world or whoever you're sharing the wall with. You’d give anything to have your entire apartment soundproofed. Heightened senses were a curse sometimes. It’s like the dark little room was it on separate universe… just you and him. The only sound is your lewd, wet gagging and his barely audible whimpering.

You could listen to him make those sounds for hours.

How often does he allow himself this kind of pleasure, you wonder. By his reaction so far, you’d say not often at all. Either that or you’re just better at this than you remember. Two things can be true. You’ll make sure it’s good for him.

You reach up to massage his balls, the other working his shaft. Your mouth comes off him with a pop, licking more of his pre cum as you go. You look up at him, his heaving chest nearly obscuring his face. You briefly glance to the side to see new claw marks adorning the wall. He looks down at you, his normally stern face painted over with bliss. You smile and take his length into your mouth again.

You could feel the tingling in the back of your head was subsiding again like it did when you were both in a… similar position 2 weeks ago. It wasn’t quite pleasure but maybe... satisfaction? Like an itch finally being scratched. Doing this to him was making the sense calm down. You’ll think about it later, you decide.

His other hand comes to your head, forcing you to move faster. You eagerly oblige. He mutters a string of what you can only assume are obscenities in Spanish as you move faster and faster. He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

You barely manage to get him fully in your mouth before you feel his balls tighten and ropes of cum paint the back of your throat. You gag it down with enthusiasm, dragging your tongue up to lick his tip clean. You come off him with a heavy sigh, trying to catch your breath.

He’s heaving too, coming down from his pleasurable high. You look at each other, your eyes both saying the same thing. The buzzing stopped, and it feels fucking amazing. He gently runs his hand down the side of your face.

You’d never seen him so… calm before. Those creases in his forehead smoothed out. His eyes were lidded and glossy. You could stay here a little longer.

Too bad you suddenly valued revenge more than sexual gratification at this particular moment.

Ever the one the ruin the moment, you remember how he left you last time. Blissed out your mind with a demolished suit that took 3 days to repair— it’s only fair you give him a full taste of his own medicine.

Behind your back, you press the home button on your watch and a portal opens up behind you. You barely give him enough time to be confused before you grab the waistband of his pants resting at his knees and rip them clean in half through the crotch seam.

You give a smirk and mocking salute before falling back into your portal home. A dazzling mix of confusion and rage marks his previously serine face before the portal closes off.

You don’t recall him wearing his watch to the gym.

_________________________________

Qué?- What? Dios- God Eso es, nena- That's it, Baby

I'm a dumb fuck that can barely speak English. Please, I beg you, correct me if I got any Spanish wrong.

And Jessica Drew does in fact release spider pheromones that she calls a spider aura. They make people irresistibly drawn to her, though I don't think she uses it all that much. And to be honest I'm not sure they're gonna include it with our new Jessica Drew in the movies. It's kinda... creepy. Right?

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 24 – MULTIVERSE

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: laireshi

I love the choices laireshi makes in combining different versions of Steve and Tony across the multiverse. The emerging plots and complicated dynamics that they play with are super interesting. And to top it all off, laireshi is a fantastic writer, so any fic of their is basically a guaranteed hit, in my opinion.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

A Thousand Kisses Deep

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 3,547 Tags: Getting Together, Jealous Steve, Angst

Summary: Steve doesn't seem too happy when Steve Rogers of Marvel Ultimate gets transported into their universe. He seems even less happy when Tony and the new Steve get closer to each other.

Reasons why I love it: I don't know what it is about different versions of Steve and Tony being jealous of each other, but I love it a whole lot. And this fic is an absolutely wonderful example of that. Tensions are high, decisions are made and feelings are confessed – color me a happy Kandi. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

Broken Mirrors

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,485 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-CA:CW, Angst

Summary: “He hid some things from me,” Tony says, then shrugs. “It’s fine. I hid some things from him, too. Don’t you know this story?” 616 Steve meets MCU Tony.

Reasons why I love it: The title of this fic is very apt. They're both so incredibly broken, and it's honestly really lovely to see them find comfort in each other, even (or especially) when they can't find it with their original counterparts. I just want to give them both a hug. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely read it!

Changes on our hands and on our faces

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 17,617 Tags: Fix-It of Sorts, Civil War, Bittersweet Ending

Summary: In the wake of the incursions, Steve and Tony face the end of the world together. They wake up separate, each of them faced with a version of the other they haven't met before. It might be a recipe for disaster, or it might just help them solve their issues.

Reasons why I love it: This fic HURTS, but my god, it hurts so good. I love the contrast between these two versions of them, especially while Tony is Superior Ironman. They're all so damaged, and the way laireshi portrays them really gets under my skin. It's fantastic, the ending is both tragic and beautiful, and I hope you go and experience it for yourself!

Loss (The Better Reflections Remix)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 2,749 Tags: Angst, Post-Civil War, Earth-3490

Summary: Director Stark finds himself in another universe with a Steve who is not only very much alive, but also getting married.

Reasons why I love it: Tony needs so many hugs, oh my god. This fic really tugs at my heartstrings in the best possible way. I love the look into Natasha's universe, especially that tidbit with Reed, and Tony's inner monologue is fantastic. Definitely check this one out if you haven't, it's so good!

[matty-bear]

IV. A Small Predicament [N.S]

Type: Chapter four of The Influencer series

Pairing: Nick Sturniolo x Male!OC

Warnings: SFW, fluffy

Summary: While rushing to try to finish editing the latest video in time, Nick gets interrupted by Matt telling him that photos of his and Finn’s hanging out the day prior we’re blowing up on social media. What will happen when Nick asks Finn why he didn’t tell him about his large following? Will Finn be open with him or ignore the question completely?

Notes: Couldn’t have the story be all cupcakes and rainbows, could I? :3 Anywho, sorry for the late post! 😖 I’m not very proud of his chapter but I can guarantee lots of fluff in the next one <3 Happy reading!! :DD

WC: 3490

Text color guide! Blue: Finn, Purple: Nick

CH1 CH2 CH3

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The sound of loud clattering awoke Nick from his deep slumber. He slowly lifts his head up from his pillow, his eyes squinting and his hair a mess from rolling about in his sleep as he peers around his room. A small groan escapes his lips as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sits up. A yawn takes over his body for a few seconds before he forces himself out of bed. He slowly stands up to ensure that he doesn’t get lightheaded if he were to hurriedly stand and immediately slips his phone off his nightstand. 12:42 PM shines brightly on his lock screen, the sudden light momentarily blinding him before he hurriedly goes to lower his brightness. 

The male proceeds to slip his phone in the pocket of his pajama pants and shuffle to the bathroom to fix himself up a little. He exits the said room about ten minutes later a lot more awake, his arms extending above his head as he stretches and makes his way to the door. He exits his bedroom and immediately walks downstairs, the sound of even more clattering ringing through his ears as he steps off the final step. 

“What the hell is going on down here? You woke me up.” Nick grumbles as he walks into the kitchen. Matt and Chris both freeze in their spot and look over at the older, nervous smiles plastered on both their lips. 

“Hey, Nick.” Matt greets as he walks closer to the said male. “We're just trying to get the stuff for the video later. Sorry that Chris woke you up.” 

“Dude, what the fuck.” Chris mutters, offended that he got thrown under the bus. “In my defense, I was gonna go wake his ass up here in a few minutes.” 

“Wait, what video? I thought we already filmed for this week.” Nick asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he walks to the cupboard. 

“No…” Matt replies slowly, “Today’s Friday, Nick and we have yet to film today’s video which you need to edit and upload before 5:30.” 

“Oh shit…” Nicks rubs his face stressfully after he sets the glass in his hand down on the countertop. “The hell happened? We’re usually on top of filming.”

“Yeah, past tense.” Chris says, his gaze focusing on the multitude of food products on the counter. “Not trying to be a dick but, your little hangout with Finn last night kinda screwed us over a little.” 

“Shit, my bad guys.” An apologetic frown appears on Nick’s lips as he fills his glass with water. “When are we gonna film?” 

“In ten minutes if that’s okay with you?” Matt asks, “Considering what time it is, how long it takes for us to film, and how long it takes you to edit and upload.” 

“That works perfectly fine for me.”

“Alright, word. Chris and I just need to finish getting these snacks in the car and get dressed before we head out.”

“Okay, word. I’ll go get my bag and camera.” Nick quickly retreats back upstairs to his bedroom and rushes towards his desk. He grabs his bag off the floor and hurriedly unzips the main pocket. Once he pulls the bag open, his eyes scan the contents inside before he nods to himself and looks over at his desk. 

As reaches to unplug his camera, his phone begins to vibrate in his pocket. His face immediately lights up and he digs in his pajama pants to fish his phone out and turn it on. His excited expression falls however when his eyes land on the stacks of Tiktok and Instagram notifications flooding his Lock Screen. 

“The fuck…” Nick mumbles, confusion flooding through him as he puts his phone back in his pocket. The male brushes what he saw over his head and grabs his camera. He quickly hauls his bag over his shoulder and runs out of his room once he takes a quick glance at his outfit in his full body mirror. As he hurries down the steps, he raises his free hand up to card his fingers through his hair a few times. “You two ready?” Nick asks as he steps into the kitchen. 

“Yup. Let’s go.” Matt replies as he slips his keys off the counter. Nick and Chris both follow the latter as he walks downstairs and opens the door, the three of them slightly shivering at the sudden cold air hitting them. Matt unlocks the van and tosses the keys to Chris who locks the door once everyone leaves. After tugging on the door to make sure it’s locked, the the male rushes over to the van and opens the passengers door. He slips inside with a heavy exhale leaving his lips before he shuts the door and hands the keys back to Matt. 

“Y’all wanna try a different parking lot since the sun is out or go to our usual spot?” Matt asks as he puts the key in the ignition, the car rumbling in response shortly after. 

“Just go to our usual spot. We don’t wanna waste time trying to find another area.” Nick replies as he stuffs his bag in between his legs on the floor. 

“Alright.” Matt sets his hand down on the gear shift and pulls it down to ‘reverse.’ He checks his side mirrors and back window as he backs out of their driveway. As he drives off down the street, Chris reaches for the aux and plugs his phone in. 

“What are y’all feeling today?” The male asks as he leans back in his seat and opens up Spotify.

“Play some Mac Miller or Lil Skies.” Matt replies, his gaze temporarily shifting over to Chris who nods at his response and scrolls through his playlist. He taps on his screen and ‘Jet Fuel’ by Mac Miller begins to play in the car. All three boys silently jam out to the songs on Chris’ playlist as Matt eventually arrives at the parking lot they usually film at. As the younger pulls into an empty spot away from everyone in the lot, Nick unbuckles his seatbelt and opens up his camera to turn it on and double check the battery. 

“Camera?” Nick hands the camera to Matt when the male extends his hand towards him. As the younger sets the device on the dashboard and exits the car, Nick moves over to the center seat in the back and Chris pauses the music. The latter lifts his head when Matt taps on the windshield, his eyes narrowing in confusion as the male does a small gesture with his hand. After realization hits him, Chris moves over to the center console and waits for Matt to give him a thumbs up before returning back to his original spot. 

“We good?” Nick asks when the younger gets back inside the car. 

Matt shuts the drivers door with a soft grunt and peers in the rear view mirror to look back at Nick. “Yup.” 

“Word.” Nick quickly opens up the timer on his phone and sets it for ten minutes before he sets it on the seat next to him. “Hey guys and welcome back to another Friday car video!” Nick exclaims as he looks towards the camera. “Today we are going to be doing another Anonymous Confessions with the stuff that you guys sent in through the Google Doc we posted on our story and review some foreign snacks that got sent to us. Do either of you have some snacks or confessions you wanna start the video with?” 

“I have a few confessions that I saved.” Chris starts as he pulls out his phone. “Just warning y’all now, shit gets a little weird.” 

~~~~~~

“No one bother me please while I edit this video. I need to focus or I’m not gonna upload on time.” Nick announces the moment the three step inside their house. 

“I’ll make sure Chris doesn’t bother you, don’t worry.” Matt reassures with a teasing smile as he looks back at the mentioned male. 

“Get off my ass, bro.” Chris mumbles as he lands a hard smack on Matt’s bicep. 

“Hey!” Nick exclaims. He spins around on his heels the second he arrives at the top of the stairs and glares down at the younger two. “No fighting.” Matt and Chris immediately stop their actions as Nick turns back around and hurries upstairs to his room. He nudges the door open with his shoulder and plops his bag down near his desk the moment he steps inside.

“Alright, let’s get this shit done.” Nick mumbles to himself as he sits in his chair and takes the SD card out of his camera. He opens up his laptop and waits for it to turn on before he plugs the card in. He double clicks his editing application to open it and sits back in his chair as he waits for the video to download into his files. As he waits, he anxiously eyes the time. 2:50 PM seems to intimidate the male the longer he stares at the numbers. 

A stressful sigh escapes his lips as he tears his focus away from the time to rub his hands over his face. He has less than three hours to edit the video, look it over, and upload it. 

The light ding emitting from his laptop causes him to remove his hands and move closer to his desk. His hand goes straight to his mouse and the faint clicking sounds ring rather obnoxiously in his ears as he opens up the video that just finished downloading. He opens his editing application back up and uploads the video, a loud groan escaping him when a notification that reads ‘Estimated wait time: 30 seconds’ pops up on his screen. 

“I don’t have time to wait thirty fucking seconds.” Nick grumbles as he continuously clicks on the loading bar. Surprisingly, his actions seem to speed up the loading process and the video appears on his screen in a matter of seconds. The male lets out a sigh of relief as he grabs his headphones and connects them to his laptop. 

He completely zones into editing the video for the next two and a half hours, the only audible sound being the clicks from his mouse and his occasional humming. As he goes to cut a clip, his bedroom door opens. The male doesn’t notice the person walking inside the room until they walk up to him and tap on his shoulder. 

Nick flinches at the sudden touch and hurriedly takes his headphones off, his eyes wide in panic as he turns in his chair to look at Matt who stands in front of him. “Dude what the hell! You scared the fuck out of me.” Nick scolds, a hand raising to rest on his chest. 

“My bad.” Matt apologizes as he rubs the older’s tense shoulder. 

“What do you want? I told you not to bother me while I’m editing.” Nick grumbles as he turns towards his laptop again. “Unless you don’t want the video to be uploaded on time.” 

“I just thought you wanted to know about the fact that you and Finn are going viral right now. But if you don’t wanna know, that’s fine. I’ll leave.” Nick quickly turns back around at Matt’s statement.

“Wait! Hold the fuck on!” The male exclaims when he sees Matt exit the room. The younger halts and slowly turns back around, a blank expression clear on his face. “What the fuck is happening with me and Finn?”

“Have you not checked Instagram or Tiktok today?” Matt asks as he walks back up to him. 

Nick furrows his eyebrows and sends the male a confused look. “Well, no.. I mean I saw that I was getting mentions and shit but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Check Tiktok and I’ll fill you in after. You need to see this for yourself.” Nick sends a suspicious and worried look to Matt before he takes his phone out of his pocket. He turns the device on and unlocks it before heading straight to Tiktok. The moment he opens the app, he flinches as the first first video on his for you page plays loudly. 

The video starts out by showing a photo of Nick and Finn entering a shop with a few bags in their hands. It changes to another photo of the two laughing and smiling widely in the shop that was shown moments prior. The photo finally switches to a short video of Chris running around the triplets’ living room in panic with the caption “FINN AND NICK SEEN TOGETHER YESTERDAY??? SINCE WHEN DID THEY KNOW EACH OTHER?!?” in the middle of the screen. 

Panic immediately floods through Nick’s body as he opens up the comment section. A few comments that catches his eye are‘they look so cute together stop,’ ‘the way they’re looking at each other 😢😢’ and ‘this is a duo I’ve never expected but I’m so here for it.’ The male quickly exits the comments after he reads a few weird ones and continues scrolling through countless videos that show the same photos. After a few minutes, Nick closes out of the app and looks over at Matt who’s now sitting on his bed and looking at him. 

“I have many questions and am very worried.” Nick states as he shuts his phone off. 

“Dude I do too. But did you and Finn ever touch on the topic of popularity? Because I think the reason that this is blowing up is due to how popular he is. I’m not saying that you’re not popular but when either of us are seen with someone, shit does not blow up this much.” Matt asks, his gaze falling down to his phone as he opens up Instagram. 

“Kinda?…” Nick replies, his hand raising to rub his nape. “We didn’t talk followers but we did talk about what we do and whatnot.” 

Matt’s gaze immediately shoots back up to Nick. “What did he tell you?” 

“He said that he’s an Instagram influencer and dabbles in modeling here and there.” Matt hums in response, his head slightly nodding. 

“Did you two switch socials?” Nick shakes his head. “Well, I found his Instagram thanks to Tiktok and I’m about to send it to you.” 

The moment Matt clicks on his screen, Nick’s phone dings. The male immediately picks his phone back up, the sight of a text message from Matt causing his stomach to churn. He hesitantly unlocks his phone and opens up his message, his thumb hovering over the Instagram link for a moment before he finally clicks it. It takes a few seconds for Instagram to open and load Finn’s profile but the moment it does, Nick’s eyes quickly scan his screen. His eyes widen in shock the moment his eyes land on Finn’s following count and he slowly looks up at Matt. 

“25 million fucking followers.” Nick reads, his jaw dropping slightly. Matt nods his head and sits at the edge of the older’s bed. “That’s fucking insane.” As Matt goes to open his mouth to add to the conversation, a small ping coming from Nick’s phone stops him. He watches as the older looks back down at the device in his hand, a small smile creeping onto his lips moments after. 

“Is it Finn?” Matt asks as he gets up and walks up to the older. Nick rapidly nods his head and opens up his messages, his face falling in worry when his eyes read over the first text. 

Finn: Hey Nick? 

Before Nick replies, he looks up at Matt who’s now standing next to him. The younger sets a reassuring hand on his shoulder to encourage the older to reply, which he does with a small exhale.

Nick: What’s up?

Finn: Have you seen the stuff going around? You know… about us 

Nick: Matt just filled me in about it yeah

Finn: Oh okay

Don’t worry about it too much I’ll make a post about it here in a minute and they’ll get off our backs :D 

Nick: Alright

Also Finn? 

Finn: Yeah? 

Nick: How come you didn’t tell me you were THIS popular on social media? I’m not trying to be mean or anything I’m just curious 

Finn: Oh umm… I don’t really like telling people abt my large following right off the bat. Like especially if they don’t recognize me. Some ppl tend to act differently when they meet influencers n I’m not a fan of it, you get me? 

Nick: Yeah I completely get you

Finn: And when you didn’t recognize me I was excited because I didn’t have to worry about you putting on a front just to hang out with me😣

Nick: Finn 😕 Trust me, if you told me about your following right off the bat I would not change a single thing about the way I interact with you. You deserve to be treated like any other human being, whether you’re popular or not

Finn: I appreciate that Nick &lt;3

Nick: :D <3 Also about the whole thing that happened, I’ll make a post about it too to shut everyone up

Finn: Should we post at the same time just for shits and giggles? 

Nick: oh ABSOLUTELY. Wouldn’t it add more fuel to the fire though? You know since everyone thinks we’re seeing each other

Finn: I mean yeah but I wouldn’t mind being wrapped up in dating rumors with you

Nick's jaw drops and he covers his mouth with his hand as he feels his face flush. Noticing that he stopped texting, Matt gets behind him to try to get a peek at his screen. 

“What’d he say? What happened?” Matt giggles. Nick looks back at the male and shows him his phone. The younger holds his hand steady so he could skim over the messages. When he reads the last text, he gasps and lands a soft hit on Nick’s shoulder. 

“What the fuck do I say?” Nick panics, the blush on his cheeks deepening a few shades as he looks back at his phone. 

“Send a reaction pic or something.” Matt replies, his giggles turning into laughter as he looks as he watches the older panic even more. 

“I don’t have any Matt!”

“Look on Pinterest for some!” A small scream of panic escapes Nick's lips as he quickly closes out the Finn’s message and opens up Pinterest. He hurriedly types in ‘reaction pics’ in the search bar and scans through the hundred of reaction pictures flooding through his feed. In the middle of scrolling, he gets a text from Finn. He feels his heart skip a beat after his eyes skim over the message. 

Finn: Nick? Where'd you go 😣 Did I kill you or something? 

Nick: Maybe

Finn: Oh??

Nick: I wasn’t expecting you to say that 😭

Finn: 🤭💙

Nick: 😒 

Finn: :D 

Anywayssss can you come over today? I miss you😢 

Nick: I have a video to edit and upload today 😕 

Finn: You can come over after maybe?

Nick: Idk… I’m kinda stressed out rn

Finn: I’ll help you de-stress! We can bake cookies or watch a movie :D 

Nick: Idk Finn…

Finn: Pleaseeee 😖 we can even chill in my “badass room” 

Nick: Alright alright. I’ll text you when I upload the video 

Finn: YAY! I’ll prepare in the meantime :3 I’ll see you later! 

Nick: see you later :D

Nick lets out a sigh and plops his phone down on his desk before looking at Matt who’s moved to stand next to him. 

“What happened, lover boy?” Matt teases. 

“Matt… don’t start that shit.” Nick mutters as he sends a threatening glare to the younger. Matt chuckles and mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before he sits back on the bed. “I agreed to go over to his house after I upload the video.” 

“Really? You’re going to his?”

“That’s what I just said, yes.” Nick lets out a small ‘ow’ when Matt smacks the back of his head. 

“I don’t need your sarcasm.” 

“You asked a stupid question!”

“Whatever.” Matt rolls his eyes as he gets up off Nick's bed and walks towards his door. “I’ll leave you alone to edit then.”

“Thank you.” Nick pulls himself back to his desk as Matt exits his room and gently shuts the door behind him. The male puts his headphones back in and turns his laptop back on.

“I need to hurry the fuck up.” Nick mumbles to himself as his editing application appears on his screen again. He lets out a heavy exhale and takes a quick glance at the time. He has less than 10 minutes to touch up the video and upload it. And if he wants to hurry and go over to Finn’s, he’s gonna need to zone in and not let anything distract him.

[cap-ironman]

2023 Cap-Iron Man Exchange Gifts unveiled on December 29

It’s the second day of reveals! Each day we will be revealing gifts created by 2023 Cap-Iron Man Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts event participants. The gifts will remain anonymous until January 11, giving everyone a chance to enjoy the works and guess the identities of creators. (Remember, if you've got a work in the collection, please remain anonymous until after creator reveals!)

Here are today’s gifts!

★ Soothing My Darkest Thoughts With Your Warmth for picturecat (Marvel 3490, 1329 words)

Some days Steve's go on a darker path than he'd like. Lucky for him, Natasha is there to remind him that sometimes peoples brains are wrong and dumb and she's always right... (at least always right about how she feels about Steve.)

★ Let's to Sea for a_freaking_lenon (MCU, 8177 words)

Samuel Wilson, Lieutenant, Royal Navy, is the newest crewman aboard the Starry Shield. The famed pirate hunting vessel, captained by the famed Captain Rogers and locked these several years in eternal pursuit of the legendary Iron Captain, is... not what Sam expects. The legendary Iron Captain, when Sam finally meets him, is even less so.

To check out all of this year’s gifts (so far!), head over to the 2023 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange AO3 Collection.

When your gift is revealed, please be sure to comment and thank your gifter!

If you’re the creator of a gift that’s now been revealed, you can reply to any comments and stay anonymous — AO3 will automatically show you as "Anonymous Author" until the creator reveals.

Finally, you may want to change the publication date of your work to today’s date so that it shows up at the top of AO3's feeds. AO3’s guide is available here and we have a more detailed version here.

Happy holidays, and we hope you enjoy all of the revealed works!

♥ Your 2023 Cap-Iron Man Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts mods

[ao3feed-kathony]

Inn Love

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/57190204 by DoodlingAwaits Anthony is a CEO of his family business and is attending a business conference in a seaside resort town. Through sheer bad luck (and Colin's poor accommodation research) he is forced to stay at the rather cheap and nasty Queen Charlotte Hotel. His first night doesn't seem to go so well, until he hears the sound of something very intimate going on in the room next to his. To make matters worse, he seems to have made an enemy of a stunning gorgeous woman he meets the following morning at the breakfast cafeteria. Kate is also booked into the same hotel and attending the same conference. She is nursing a rather strong crush on the extremely handsome but rather arrogant Anthony Bridgerton, who she knows through work, but she can't seem to do much about it. When she runs into him the next day, everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. A series of mishaps and coincidences ensures, meaning the two are never far from each other's sight. Will it bring them closer together or tear them apart? (you may know the answer to that already!) Words: 3490, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English Fandoms: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Anthony Bridgerton, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Colin Bridgerton, Thomas Dorset, Brimsley (Bridgerton), Edwina Sharma (mentioned) Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton & Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, mention of Anthony Bridgerton/Siena Russo Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Accidental Voyeurism, Aural Kink, Hotel Sex, POV Multiple, Farce, Porn With Plot, graduated with a degree in yearnalism (hons.), Masturbation, Eavesdropping, And Lots of It, suspend your disbelief very high up on the ceiling, because a lot of this will be quite farcical, grovelling Anthony Bridgerton, horny kate sharma, accidents ensure, Anthony Bridgerton Being an Idiot, Anthony Bridgerton is Obsessed with Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton is a Simp for Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma Takes No Shit, Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma Being Clowns, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Anthony might have an aural fixation read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/57190204

[tunastime]

On the Wolf and the Canary

In which Joel and Jimmy get to talk about it all

(3490 words)

Somewhere, quietly, the sun is rising. Orange-gold beams slice through grey hanging on the edge of speckled cliffs, bows of red and yellow stone, orange hills and canyons. It brushes the dark sky and turns it pink-red-orange, too, mottling out the stars. Jimmy Solidarity isn’t awake to see this. Or, he is awake, but he isn’t watching from the window. He’s lying in bed, tired, half-lidded eyes staring at the ceiling. He can feel a sort of anxiety, a grief, pooling in the hollow of his arms and wrists, behind his teeth, in his throat, and in the white space of his eyes. When he moves to scrub his face the movements are stiff and jerky, like the muscles are sore and taut. They are sore and taut, and he spends a moment rolling his wrists free of the click. Beside him, as per usual, Norman is sleeping. He thinks he can see the soft body of Flick at his feet, paws stretched toward his ankle.

On the day Jimmy comes back from the death game, where he doesn’t linger, where no one is here to make sure he’s fine, he’s alright, he’s okay, he’s not hurting, the world is quiet. Jimmy swallows, mouth dry and gritty like he’s eaten a handful of sand. He closes his eyes for a long moment, and pretends as if he’s still asleep, pretends that if he were to fall back asleep, he might wake up to Grian prodding him in the side, standing over him. Or that Joel might be tucking the blankets too tight around him. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. Right now, as well, he’s pretending like his heart doesn’t ache.

When he sits up, his back aches in protest. There’s no spot where his wings should be, leaving the muscles sore from use. He rolls his shoulders, twists, feeling his spine pop, tries to get on with dressing with as little fuss as possible. Flick wakes as he stands, and watches him as he wanders over to the dresser and starts his search. He hears something thud against the roof of his house. It’s quiet for a moment, this repeated, soft thudding, before he recognizes.

Jimmy sprints down the stairs, shirt half-tucked, half-buttoned, pulling his socks on. When he opens the door, the sky is heavy and light grey, clouds partially blocking the sun.

On the day Jimmy comes back from the death game, it rains.

It’s not a quiet rain, either, not anymore. There’s just a moment before there’s a crackle of thunder that sends Jimmy, and Norman, perched at the doorway, scrambling back. It’s not raining particularly hard enough to worry about flooding, but the few people left that he could see on the cliff-side had peered out of their doors and promptly shut them. He can imagine the inch-thick layer of mud he’d been walking through to get anywhere over the next few days, the cobble he’d need to replace.

Something about it though, how…soft it is. A soft rain. Something the crops could soak up and flourish with. Something rain barrels and gutters could catch. It eases the tension in his heart just a fraction. He wanders away from the door, smiling to himself, and then to Norman as he twists around his feet. He tucks in the tail end of his shirt, buttons the last few buttons at the top, and scoops Norman into his arms.

“What’s for breakfast, aye, buddy?”

Norman settles, shutting his eyes.

He lilts around the room, swinging Norman in his arms, humming to himself as he walks into the kitchen. The sound of the rain on the roof muffles out a good majority of the whispered, pitched baby-talk he mumbles to Norman, who blinks sleepily at him as Jimmy kisses his head and turns him out onto the kitchen table. There Norman sits, flicks his tail, and observes as Jimmy maneuvers around Flick and lights the fireplace. He stuffs down a bit of charred wood and sets in a new log, watching for a moment as the flames lick at it. Then it’s on to lighting the stove, filling the kettle, and setting it atop the stove. He waits for it to boil, busying himself with familiar tasks, something to keep his mind off the facts of the matter.

It was his fault.

He pulls down a cup. It’s yellow.

He nearly drops it, though, when there’s a shout outside his door. It’s nearly as loud as the thunder that follows, rattling his windows. If he had feathers to fluff, he’d surely be standing on edge. He frowns deeply, before leaning away from the stove. The call comes again.

“Sheriff!”

Jimmy blinks, startled. He paces to the coat rack, cup forgotten on the counter. There, he stuffs his feet into shoes and lifts his hat off the hook, settling it firm on his head. At least his head and shoulders won’t be wet if he has to trudge through the rain.

“Jimmy!”

Jimmy throws open the door.

Standing in the middle of the rain, in the square, on the cobbles Jimmy placed himself, looking quite a normal height as of right now, which is to say, much shorter (or, wait, is Jimmy taller? Wait, is he. Wait.) than normal, is Joel. Robes, beard, looking a bit disgruntled with his whole affair, Joel. Joel who should still be making sure Grian isn’t getting into too much trouble, Joel.

“Joel?” Jimmy starts. He’s still standing in the doorway. The rain is making puddles in his empty terracotta pots and dry soil. He can feel a cool breeze from the rain on his exposed neck and face.

“I’m sorry, Jim—” Joel starts, shoulders sagging. He raises his voice over the rain. Where he’s standing, he’s getting the brute force of it, the rain splatting down on the cobbles under his feet. At least he’s not standing in mud, but. He stands like there’s something more to the words than just I’m sorry, but Jimmy can’t place what.

“What are you doing here?” Jimmy says. For some reason, he can’t wrap his head around this. He must be hallucinating, right? There’s no way Joel is actually here in front of him. Something about that won’t click. He’s just woken up. Or, he’s just gotten up, from being woken up many times. Or something. Matter of the fact is that Jimmy’s just gotten up, gotten back, whatever. There’s no way Joel went so quick. It couldn’t have been so soon, right? There’s no way that Joel. No.

“What’d’you mean?” Joel says, incredulous all of a sudden, sweeping a hand out. He’s almost laughing. “‘Ve blummin’ died, what’s it look like?”

“No—wait, that’s—” Jimmy puts a hand to his forehead. The air feels muggy around him all of a sudden. Or maybe he’s just clammy. His hand comes back damp, but he’s not sure from mist or sweat.

“Yeah, ‘s happened. All a blur, really.”

He watches Joel cross his arms, set his jaw. He doesn’t look upset, per se, if upset was anything other than shouting and yelling and punching the air. He looks frustrated. Which is exactly how Jimmy feels, consequently.

“How’d it happen?” Jimmy asks. Joel stares at him like he’s gone mad, for about thirty seconds, before he sighs again, and his demeanor drops, and he gives a weak shrug. A defeated shrug.

“Bloody arrow. Dunno who it was. Scar or Bdubs maybe,” another shrug. “Sure Grian knows, he was right behind me.”

“Sorry, man…” Jimmy says. He feels a twist in his gut, a remnant of anxiety, watching the disappointment grow on Joel’s face. He scuffs his boots for a moment, staring at the wooden slats on the ground. The rain continues to fall. It drops in little rivulets down the banister and off the roof and still into his pots. He should really bring out a bucket to catch it all. ‘S good rain, that’s what it is.

“What happened to you sucks, by the way,” Joel says sympathetically. He’s just barely loud enough to hear over the rain. Jimmy shrugs weakly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I know, it sucks,” he huffs. He kicks against the deck, hearing his boot thunk and spur jingle.

“It sucks,” Joel says again. Jimmy huffs once more, gritting his teeth, shutting his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. It doesn’t work well. There’s something clawing about and it’s making quite a mess of the inside of his chest and man. Man. He can feel it sink to the pit of his stomach, stretch all the way up his throat. He’s holding it there, like he’s trying to breathe through wet paper.

“I know, it sucks,” he says, dropping his hands in frustration. He waves them about instead, a self-righteous anger bubbling up in his chest. “I know that! I’m the one it happened to, Joel! Y’know!”

He groans, letting the sound peter out as he covers his face with his hands. He scrubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. For a moment, his vision goes blurry, before he blinks, and blinks, and it clears.

“‘S whatever,” he says, the tone of his voice falling flat. He’s finally back to looking at Joel. “Let’s just not talk about it.”

Joel nods, folding his arms.

“Right…”

There’s a beat of silence between them, filled only by the rain, in which Jimmy realizes Joel is very much standing in his square without cover. He startles, stepping forward toward the steps, gesturing with his head.

“You wanna come inside?” he says, looking back to the beam of yellow coming through the cracked-open door. “‘S soakin’ out there.”

Joel shrugs. His expression shifts from disappointed toward unsure.

“‘M not wet or anythin’,” he says, a bit confused.

Jimmy’s face falls. “Oh…”

They stare at each other for a moment, Jimmy’s expression rapidly saddening and Joel finally rolling his eyes, trudging over the path.

“Well don’t look so sad about it,” he says, stepping up the stairs. “‘m comin’ in, hold on.”

Jimmy steps back, letting him onto the landing. He laughs a little, feeling something settle in his chest. Then, he pushes open the door, stepping aside to let him in. “Right, god-man…get in.”

Joel smiles a bit as he steps in. He pauses at the threshold, glancing around the room as Jimmy shuts the door behind him, toeing off his boots. Norman wanders over after a second, giving Joel a cautionary sniff. Joel crouches down after a moment, holding out his hand. Norman sniffs before wandering back, making a loop between the two of them. Jimmy smiles. Something about that makes his heart go soft. Norman’s a precautious guy! Seeing him warm up almost instantly to Joel, who he’s never seen, it’s sweet. It’s nice, okay? There’s not a lot of nice things happening usually in his life. So he’s enjoying it. He’ll take what he can get.

He sets his hands on his hips, watching Joel as he rises from a crouch.

“Tea?” Jimmy asks, tilting his head. “Kettle’s on.”

Joel nods a few times. Norman makes a reappearance, bumping against one of Joel’s legs. Jimmy watches him for a moment, before looking back up to Joel. The smile lingers on both of their faces.

“Sure, sure.”

Jimmy nods, pulling away. He waves his hands as he wanders back to the kitchen, gesturing to the room at large. Rug. Desk. Lit fireplace. Gas stove. Green couch. Armchair. Map. Bookshelf. Gas lanterns. Pots and pans. Shelving. Cat bed. Things that make a house a home, to him.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says absently, turning up the heat for the kettle. It starts to bubble a bit, a lilting trail of steam coming from the spout. He takes down another cup—one he got recently, with a green ring around the rim.

When he looks over his shoulder, Joel is standing in the center of the living space, looking at the map on his wall. His head is tilted just so.

“Dunno if I’ve ever been in here, Jim,” he says, and Jimmy is starkly aware of how much taller he is than Joel right now. His stomach twists. He feels a little dizzy all of a sudden, reaching out to hold onto the lip of the stove to steady himself.

“Mm,” Jimmy says, fighting the weakness in his voice. “Didn’t realize.”

“‘S nice.”

Joel sits on the sofa. Jimmy sees his body shift as he gets comfortable. If he knew any better, he might be able to tell whether or not Joel was contemplating putting his feet up on the round coffee table. He might be. Jimmy isn’t certain. He wouldn’t blame him. He does the same thing. He turns back to the kettle, now boiling, and lifts it off the stove.

“I was gonna sacrifice myself so you wouldn’t be first out, y’know.”

Joel speaks the sentence into the silence left by the pouring of two cups of tea. The kettle hangs heavy in Jimmy’s hand. He doesn’t say anything. There are words trapped in his throat—something incredulous, something asking why. And even then, there’s a creeping feeling over his spine, a dread that he feels just seconds before disaster. Not enough to save anything, but just enough to hurt him. He takes a long breath in, swallowing the words that have turned sour in the back of his mouth. One of his hands grips the edge of the stovetop as he sets the kettle down. He’s staring at his yellow cup full of his favorite tea. He’s in his home, safe, warm, dry, and yet he feels too big and too small all at once for the space he occupies. He shakes his head, sighing.

“You don’ have’ta lie t’me, Joel, to make me feel better or nothin’,” he manages. “‘M fine about it.”

Joel scoffs. “‘M serious, Jimmy—”

Jimmy shakes his head. “‘S not funny—”

“‘S true—”

“Seriously, dude, stop. Stop it—”

Jimmy whips around, staring at Joel, who’s turned to face him. Joel’s face is screwed up, eyebrows deeply furrowed, mouth a sharp downward curve. He breathes in and out and his shoulders rise and fall a little quicker than they should. Jimmy’s heart jumps to his throat.

“I’m not jokin’, Jim, why would I ever—” Joel shuts his eyes, shaking his head. He reaches up to press his fingers to his eyes. “That’s not somethin’ I’d joke about. It was funny the first few times but you’re my friend, man, for god’s sake, Jim—”

Jimmy stands in his kitchen, on the day he gets back from another death game, and for the first time, he doesn’t feel utterly alone.

Not that he—he’s not always felt alone. He certainly didn’t in the last two games, with someone, two very good someone’s in his mind, glued to his side. Or partially glued, he guesses. But to have that physically ripped away from him on respawn. To come back to a mostly empty town—especially now, that it’s pouring rain, that nobody else has come to check in on him—it was always so isolating. Isolation isn’t what he wants after dying. He wants someone to tell him he’ll be okay. And Joel is sitting in his living room staring at him and sounds so frustrated he might cry and Jimmy is sure he will, too, feeling something sharp and burning in his nose and throat. What’s he supposed to do with all this, huh? How’s he supposed to make sense of it all?

“I don’t want you to think it’s your fault all the time, ‘s all,” Joel mutters, looking away from him. He folds his arms, settling back against the couch and grumbling to himself and generally sounding put-off again, so much so that Jimmy nearly passes out. He feels sick. “I care about you, alright?”

“Joel…” Jimmy’s voice wavers. It reminds him of a life that isn’t his—something that resembles his life. It reminds him of a fairy tale, or something like that. Something about something powerful and strong and scary protecting something small and too soft and unable to fend for itself. His chest feels heavy and achy.

“‘S the tea done?” Joel asks. Jimmy turns, lifting both cups. He wanders over quietly, setting them both on the coffee table. Joel leans forward without looking at him, lifting the cup and taking a sip. He seems pleased.

“You mean tha’?” Jimmy says after a beat, sitting on the couch beside him. Joel’s eyes flick up to see him before he sighs, turns his body toward him. His expression isn’t as frustrated, softer now, but not sad. Remorseful. Regretful. Something like that. Jimmy frowns a little.

“I did, yeah,” Joel says, glancing into his cup. “I do. It’s horrifyin’, is what it is. I mean, ‘s productive for everyone else, I guess, but it sucks for you.” Joel takes a long sip. It sucks. He knows it sucks, more than anyone else. But to hear it out loud…

Jimmy nods. He picks up his tea cup, holding it in the cradle of his hands.

“I ‘preciate tha’,” he says after a minute, after a sip. “Really, Joel. That’s…it means a lot.”

Joel laughs a little. “Sure thing, Jim,” he shrugs. “A good bit’s changed since we last talked here, eh?”

Jimmy laughs, too. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

It’s something at the root of it all. Some line of friendship finally surfacing, after too long away. Jimmy doesn’t know, he’s not sure. Why would he be? He’s not good at this sort of thing. But it makes him happy. And that’s what matters the most, he thinks. Joel is sitting on his couch, drinking his tea, and generally making kind, though emotionally distressing, small talk. The rain keeps falling. If he peeks out far enough, Jimmy’s certain the light grey cloud cover hasn’t broken, though the sun might be lighting them up from the back. Or there might be a crack where the sun gets through. Wouldn’t that be nice? Norman bumps his leg. He reaches down to trail his hand down his back.

It’s funny, now that he thinks about it, how the rain suddenly started. Usually he can see the clouds brewing on the edge of the horizon, where they never truly reach the edge of the canyon. But today they broke that barrier, and offered the needed bit of rain. Jimmy takes in the sound of the rain pattering against his tile-shingled roof and sips his tea.

“Did you do all that, by the way?” Jimmy finally says. “The rain ‘n all?”

Joel tilts his head. There’s a sheepish smile forming on his face. He sets his tea cup down on the coffee table as Jimmy does.

“Oh…a bit, yeah,” he says. “Yeah…”

Jimmy smiles, a smile that turns into a laugh, a laugh that turns into throwing his head back. He reaches out, patting Joel’s arm, before pulling him forward into a hug. Joel startles before he leans in. Jimmy thinks he hears him laugh, too—but maybe it’s just a sigh.

“Thank you, Joel, seriously,” Jimmy says, leaning his cheek on Joel’s shoulder. Joel pats his back, and it makes his hair stand on end, like the precipice of a static shock. “Thanks. You’re my best bro, you know that?”

Joel laughs at that. He laughs, and it sounds a little like the thunder Jimmy had heard and he laughs, too, and Joel pulls back from him and ruffles his hair and claps his shoulder, giving it a squeeze that leaves an impression as he drops his hands.

“You were always my favorite Bad Boy, Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s heart squeezes.

“Joel—” he groans, drawing out the syllable into definitely more than the one required. “Don’t say that!”

Joel only laughs and picks up his tea cup again. After a sip, he makes a face at Jimmy. Jimmy makes a face back, kicking him in the shin. Joel yelps, kicking him back. Jimmy pulls his legs up, shuffling back to the corner of the couch with his tea cup in hand. He glares at Joel from his side, and Joel from his own side, and they drink in relative silence before Joel says:

“Remind me to tell you all about my murder rampage later, eh?”

Jimmy barks out a laugh. Sure, okay. He nods. Yeah. He’ll hear about a murder rampage later. That ought to be fun.

For now though, as he nods, he’s too preoccupied on the feeling finally settling in his chest. One he hadn’t felt in a good long bit. A sense of belonging. Because at least one person’s looking out for him now, right? Post mortal enemy, half-brother-in-law from another time, weird-annoying-brother relationship aside. A friend. A shoulder. A guy in his corner.

Jimmy’s happy. It’s good now.

[ao3feed-fengqing]

The Talk

by Skylark325 “I…” Mu Qing finally replies “I didn’t know how to…” he helplessly makes gestures in the air. “I know my life changed for the better when Xie Lien took me in. Even a fool could see that. He…” “No.” Feng Xin interrupts, his voice dark. “I don’t want to talk about His Highness. I want to talk about us.” Mu Qing sits back, stunned, his eyes not leaving Feng Xin’s. Feng Xin stares back at him patiently. “Us.” Mu Qing echoes. Words: 3490, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Webcomic), 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Cartoon), 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, Tian Guan Ci Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M Relationships: Feng Xin/Mu Qing (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Hua Cheng/Xie Lian (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Feng Xin & Mu Qing (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Pei Ming/Yushi Huang, Lord Earth Master Ming Yi/Shi Qingxuan Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers via https://ift.tt/vprMyq1

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 5)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 3490

warnings/notes: I finally had time to write a new part! I was literally at the front desk at my job writing this fanfiction today for my whole shift while doing my work lol. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it and I'm hoping I'll be able to post another part before the week is up...fingers crossed :)

Chapter 5

               A month had gone with no news from my father and no money returned to Elvis. I didn't mind too much. Graceland was starting to seem more like home than my real home. Ms. Gladys was treating me like the daughter she never had, even teaching me how to prepare her family's recipes. The Memphis Mafia's other members began to act more like brothers. They were only all business while they were doing business, it turned out. The remainder of the time, they were wild boys running around, tossing footballs, racing in go karts, and generally having a good time. I even got to meet Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis' music manager. I didn't care for him. He reminded me of my father: all smiles on the outside, but sticky and shady on the inside. But Elvis trusted him, so I didn't express my worries. Still, I tried to avoid him as much as possible, especially when I accompanied Elvis to his performances. I spent most of my time with Elvis, and I quickly understood that the only thing monstrous about him was that he was a mafia leader. He was a boy with a golden heart, a profound love for his family and friends, and a passion for music. We'd go for walks around the Graceland grounds or simply relax in his room and listen to music. He would sometimes play me tunes on the grand piano in his living room and I would sing along, which always made him smile. Even though I didn't leave the property without Elvis, I didn't feel as confined as I did with Daddy.

I descended the stairs after hearing Ms. Gladys' voice all the way upstairs. I crept into the living room and saw Elvis slumped on the piano bench, forlorn. I could see he was still upset over his last performance. The Colonel dubbed it "The New Elvis." A family-friendly Elvis in coats and tails. An Elvis who appears to make a fool of himself on live television while singing to a hound dog. I'd heard all the headlines about Elvis's shows being too lude, his music being too rebellious, and how he was corrupting today's youth on the radio and television. That was all nonsense from the tabloids, but the Colonel reasoned that pandering to the skeptics would be simpler than having Elvis ignore them. I wished I could ring that man's neck for removing the brightness from Elvis' eyes.            

Gladys shouted, pacing in the kitchen, “She just went on and on about the damn dog.” Elvis looked like he was barely listening. “And I said, “Neighbors shouldn’t speak like that”. And then she said…”

              I entered the living room and sat on the arm of the sofa close to Elvis's head, which was dangling off the end of the piano bench. I offered him a little grin as he gazed up at me. “The bit with a dog wasn’t that bad, was it?” I was attempting to cheer him up, but even I could see how horrible things really were.

              “It was the most embarrassing performance of my life, darlin’,” Elvis said quietly. He moved down the seat till his head was in my lap and one of his hands was clutching the bottom of my skirt.

Elvis had developed feelings for me, and I knew I had feelings for him. We weren't dating or committed, but we were something, and everyone at Graceland knew it. I ran my fingers through his hair. “Your real fans will still be by your side. Like the ones outside the gate every day.”

              “You mean the ones beggin’ me to go back to my old ways? Sounds more like protestin’ than admiration.”

              Ms. Gladys entered the living room from the kitchen. “She wasn’t the only one who said it. All the neighbors did.” Elvis tensed up beneath my touch. “Those New York people were using you to poke fun at the whole South. Getting a laugh out of putting a hillbilly in a tailcoat and singing to a dog.”

              “Ms. Gladys, ain’t no one thinkin’ we’re hillbillys.,” I remarked, “Especially not Elvis. He ain’t never been ashamed of where he comes from."

              “Exactly, Mama.” Elvis didn't lift his head from my lap, and Ms. Gladys acted as if seeing us cuddled up together, me comforting him, was the most natural thing in the world. “God damn it; besides it was either that or I get canceled. Then that’s it for television. Colonel says I’m runnin’ out of states I’m welcome in. And I don’t need no one lookin’ deeper into anything I’m doin’.” I knew he was referring to the Memphis Mafia, but I had no idea what Ms. Gladys thought he was referring to. “And they don’t pay unless I can perform!” He took his head off my lap. “So, Colonel says I play the charity concert tomorrow night, as the new family style, then everybody calms down and we get back on track. Someone’s gotta think about keepin’ a roof over our heads.”

              Gladys scowled. “Roof over our head? Elvis, we have always managed to keep a roof over our head!” She began to storm away. Elvis followed her, and I wondered if I should intervene in their discourse.

              “Mama, Colonel is my manager. It’s his job and he ain’t never failed us before.”

              “We was doin’ just fine before that man came along!”

              “Colonel has got us all of this!” Elvis extended his arms, indicating the big mansion and many acres.

              “I don’t want all of this! You’re unhappy! I don’t like seein’ you unhappy! Laura Jean doesn’t either!” She yelled this as if it were going to aid her case. Maybe it would, since he returned his flushed gaze to his mother after a brief glance back at me.

              “I am not unhappy!”

              Gladys smacked her palms on the table, causing the cutlery to clatter noisily. She returned her attention to him. “You’re losing yourself, Booby!”

              Elvis shook his head. “Aw, hell, Mama, I---”

              “Satnin knows.”

              She approached Elvis, putting her hands on his arms and leaning in closer. “The way you sing and move, it’s God-given. So, there can’t be nothin’ wrong with it.”

              Elvis appeared to be about to say something, but Billy rushed in, saying, “Hey, EP! EP! Can we close down the movie house and watch Godzilla tonight?!” A swarm of other boys followed him, dashing through the house like madmen, generating an even bigger commotion than the one that was already going on.

              Elvis' face had turned even redder. “Don’t tramp mud in the house, Billy!”

              “But you said we could watch the movie!”

              I watched something erupt in Elvis. He appeared to be the frightening, deadly mafia leader who would have killed that redneck boy if I hadn't stopped him. Billy was shoved out the front door. “Get out! Get out of my goddamn house! Trampin’ mud in my house and doin my damn head in!” He took a few steps before pulling his jacket from the rack. With irritation, he put his palm over his eyes. “Mama, you ain’t never happy. No matter what I do, no matter how much I give you, it ain’t never enough!” Gladys had already taken the half-empty whiskey bottle from the cupboard and had begun to drink the rest. Elvis' gaze was drawn to it for a brief while. “And I wish you would not drink so goddamn much. It’s not good for you!”

He took my hand and drew me outside with him. I scurried behind him, trying to keep up with his big strides. Gladys was calling to him from inside, but he didn't stop or turn back. The boys began shouting to him as well, but it seemed as if they were yelling at walls. He seated me in the passenger seat of his purple convertible before immediately going into the driver's seat, starting the car, and driving away.

“Elvis, where are we goin’?” I inquired but received no response. The radio began playing his music as we approached the gate, where there were still fans outside. He changed stations, but each station seemed to be playing different increments of Hound Dog, taunting him until he finally turned off the radio as the gates opened. Girls grabbed the car in the hopes that he would look at them or stop and talk. His gaze was fixed on the road in front of him. His white knuckles gripped the steering wheel. I heard cameras clicking and people asking who I was and why I was in the car. We soon passed through the crowd and were on the open road, driving into the setting sun in complete silence. I wanted to ask where we were going again, but he hadn't even acknowledged that he had brought me along.

It was night by the time we reached someplace, and the street we were on was filled with lights, people, and music. This was unlike any other street I'd ever seen. There were a lot of black people on the streets, in businesses, and in restaurants. It seemed as though the street itself was giving these folks life, and it was enthralling. The car eventually came to a halt when it approached a curb.

I cast a glance at Elvis. “Where are we?”

He shut off the automobile and leaned back, exhaling a long breath he hadn't taken since Graceland. “Beale Street. I used to spend a lot of time down here. It’s one of my favorite places, one of the places that inspired me.” He finally looked at me with remorse. “I’m sorry I just grabbed you and left. I just…I don’t know what to do. Everybody wants somethin’ different from me. I feel like I can’t make anyone happy.”

I grasped his hand in mine. “You need to make yourself happy, Elvis. That’s all that matters. And anyone who really loves you will be okay with that.”

Elvis kissed the back of my hand with a smile. “You really are a wonder, Laura Jean Walker.” He flung open his door. “Come on, there’s somewhere I wanna take you.” He hopped out and came to my side, opening the door and assisting me in exiting. He held my hand as he proceeded to the sidewalk, which was immediately encircled by a throng of people. While hauling me along, he respectfully greeted and thanked everyone.

Then, a voice from above yelled, “EP!”

Elvis and I both turned to face the voice. A black man stood on a fire escape outside the 'Club Handy' building, waving to Elvis. Elvis's face brightened. “BB! Hey!”

“Get over here!”

Elvis dragged me across the street, the mob behind us. Hands were shaken as we approached the entrance, and I overheard several of the ladies complimenting my clothes and hair. Elvis came to a halt to sign a few autographs. As the performer's entry to Club Handy opened, BB was waiting there with a huge security guy in a suit. “Get him! Get him in here! EP! EP!”

Elvis eventually made his way into the club, dragging me along with him. The shouting fans outside were muted when the security officer locked the door behind us. I wasn't afraid; in fact, I could feel the adrenaline surging through me, making me want to bounce off the walls. I was generally off to the side backstage, watching Elvis' concerts with Gladys and the Colonel. I'd never been so close to the action and the spectators who showered him with affection.

BB and Elvis hugged in the way that only an old friend can. Elvis's previous worry was gone, and the brilliant smile was back on his face, and the light was back in his eyes. “Oh, it’s good to see you, BB.”

“You too, EP. What you doin’ slummin’ it down here again? I would have thought you would have been too busy.”

“Well, I needed to clear my head, and this felt like the right place to do it.” BB's gaze was drawn to me, and he nodded to Elvis for an introduction. “Oh, Laura Jean, this is BB King. BB, this is Laura Jean Walker…my girl.”

I swear I felt my heart cease beating. My girl. I was so excited that I almost missed BB taking my hand and shaking it. Of course, I had no objections to being his girl, but we hadn't discussed it. We hadn't said anything else to anyone. We'd just fallen into these roles with each other as if we didn't have any other choice. I instantly felt the urge for a glass of water. “Um, nice to meet you, Mr. King.”

“BB, please. I’m too young to be called mister anything. So, you been keepin’ EP in line?”

With a tiny giggle, I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t think anybody could keep Elvis in line. He’s too rebellious for his own good.”

Elvis rolled his eyes but wrapped his arm around me and laid his lips to my brow. “Watch yourself, darlin’. You still gotta come back home with me,” he said, making me laugh even more.

BB just nodded. “I’m glad you’re doing well for yourself, EP. Or are you…?”

Elvis released me when he saw BB was ready to get to the bottom of why he had gone to Beale Street in the first place. “It’s my mama. She keeps going on about the “Hound Dog”, and the Colonel’s got me wearin’ tails, and everybody just wants somethin’ different.”

BB rested his hand on Elvis' shoulder. “Hey, listen, man, if you’re sad and you want to be sad, you’re at the right place. If you’re happy and you want to be happy, guess what? You’re at the right place. So just do me a favor…” He fixed Elvis’s jacket. “…let it all hang out. Let it all hang out, EP.”

Elvis chuckled and nodded. “Let it all hang out, baby.”

BB led us into the club, which was packed with people dancing, drinking, and partying as if tomorrow didn't exist. Everyone seemed to be caught up in the music and atmosphere of the club. It was like freedom personified, and I couldn't help but want to join in. On the stage, a black singer was playing the piano and singing into the microphone as if his life depended on it. He had Elvis-style eye makeup and a pompadour on his head.

“Whoo! Man, he’s cuttin’ it,” Elvis yelled to BB over the din of the crowd.

“He’s amazing,” I said as the artist began to move away from his keyboard to dance with the audience.

“Sister Rosetta found this kid in the backwaters of Georgia,” BB explained.

“You should get the Colonel to book him on Steve Allen. I bet he would love that.” Elvis laughed at himself. “They would love his moves.” We worked our way through the crowd until we located an empty booth in the corner where we could sit and watch the performance. “Man, he sings the hell out of that song. I would love to record that.”

BB nodded. “If you do, you’ll make a whole lot more money than that kid could ever dream of.”

It was a terrible fact, but it was the reality, nevertheless. Even while Elvis did his share to draw attention to black musicians, there was still a racial barrier that many refused to cross. Yet it didn't mean he'd give up trying. And it was time for me to give it a shot with him. I took his hand in mine and dragged him out of the booth. “Come on, I wanna dance.”

Elvis beamingly grinned. “Really? You don’t feel out of place here?”

“Why would I? You’re with me and it looks like fun.” I took him to the dance floor and began dancing to the music. He was stunned at first, but soon joined me, drawing me closer. The heat of the crowd around us energized us both as we laughed and danced to the song together. I was performing dancing moves I'd only seen on TV, motions that Daddy would describe as obscene. But I'd never had so much fun in my life. I felt liberated, I was myself, and I was with someone who appreciated who I was as much as I did. We also danced with some of the other clubgoers and drank wine purchased for us by several fans.

It was later than I had ever stayed out by the time we were sweaty and tired. We were smoking cigarettes on the fire escape with BB. BB flung his ashes over the gate's side. “That’s a nice ride you rode up in tonight.”

Elvis shook his head. “It ain’t like your ol’ BB King bus.”

BB laughed. “Big Red. Yeah, well, I can go where I want, play what I want and if they don’t like it, I can go somewhere else.”

“Sounds like a dream,” I said.

“It is. You’ve got to be in control.”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t easy when you got someone hell bent on controlling you. My Daddy barely let me leave the house.”

“Is that why you moved in with EP over here? Childhood rebellion?”

My hands were on my hips. “No, that ain’t the reason. And I’m not a child. I think I more than proved that by bein’ here tonight.”

BB chuckled as I playfully struck Elvis on the arm. “She’s got fire in her, EP. You chose a good one, one that can probably keep up with you.”

Elvis bit his lower lip. “Yeah, well, she just kind of fell into my lap. But I’m glad she did.”

My face became heated from the blush that had appeared on my cheeks. I was pleased I had as well, regardless of the circumstances that had brought us together. In some ways, I suppose I didn't want Daddy to satisfy Elvis's demands. Would I be forced to leave if he did? Would Daddy make Elvis do it? I didn't want to leave. I was content with where I was and who I was with for the first time in a long time. The prospect of returning to Daddy's prison made me nervous.

For a little while, all was quiet before BB declared, “EP, you should have your own label, like me. You don’t do the business; the business will do you.”

Elvis sighed. “Man, I just leave all that to the Colonel.”

“So, it’s his idea? This new Elvis?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t get it, man. Cats buy your records because they like what you do, not because you’re dressed up like some butler. You really think those kids want to see Elvis the butler at the Russwood Park gig?”

“BB is right, Elvis.” I felt compelled to speak up. It was really bothering him. “I know you trust the Colonel to do what’s right. But you didn’t sell records because you stood at a microphone in tails and a tie. You sold them because you gave the young generation what they wanted. You gave them music and dance moves and performances that spoke to them, spoke to their freedom.”

“Well, I ain’t wearin’ no tails.” Elvis bowed his head. “I just…gotta lay off the moves, is all.”

“Your moves are you, baby. They’re apart of you as much as the music is.”

“Colonel says if I don’t, they’re gonna put me in jail. And not just for dancin’.”

My breath became stuck in my throat. “They can’t prove you did nothin’. You’re makin’ honest money now. Ain’t nothin’ bought through dirty means at Graceland.”

BB cast a glance between the two of us. “She knows?”

Elvis nodded. “She knows everythin’. And, Laura Jean, it ain’t just about things I’ve bought. The Memphis Mafia deals in much more than shady money, you know that. Daddy got sloppy once and they threw him in jail for it. If I make the same mistake, everyone I care about looses everything and I get sent packin’.”

“Come on, man. They’re not gonna put you in jail. They might put me in jail for walking across the street, but you? You’re a white boy and a famous one at that. You’re more than the mafia now, EP. Too many people are making too much money off you to put you in jail.”

Elvis was paying close attention, and I could see his mind working. “You think so?”

“I know so. Colonel’s a smart man. There’s gotta be another reason.”

Elvis looked at me for reassurance. “My feelings about the Colonel don’t matter, even I agree with BB. You gotta listen to yourself. Don’t let nobody tell you what’s best for you. Only you know what’s best for you and I’ll be there too. No matter what.”

Elvis pulled me up onto his lap. “Well, then, darlin’, I think it’s time for a change.”

Stay tuned for part 6!! Click HERE to view!

[sirowsky-stories]

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 8 - The Job

Description: Learning what Anita had planned for you wasn't at all helping your fragile state of mind. Marcus was, though.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 3490 (1691 words added) Masterlist (this story)

   Well, if you did have any expectations about what the job might be, you couldn’t have been more wrong.    Anita had left you alone in what would be your very own office, to think about whether or not you wanted to sign up for it, and honestly, you’d never been more nervous.    You’d been pacing around the relatively large space for a good hour, muttering to yourself and twisting your own thoughts into a veritable hornets-nest, until you didn’t even know what you were thinking about anymore.

   What parallel to this situation could have possibly brought your mind to fucking shoelaces? And exactly how much of the past hour had you spent comparing the advantages and disadvantages between round and flat ones?    A knock on the door woke you from your attempt at unravelling the nest, and you were physically relieved to find Marcus on the other side when you opened it.

   Once it had become clear to you that this anxiousness you were experiencing was only going to escalate no matter how many breathing exercises you tried, you’d decided to text him. Sending him just your location and a plea for him to hurry.    If you’d even attempted a phone call, you would likely only have ended up screaming incoherently at him, or possibly just sobbed like a child. Both options were feeling increasingly likely to happen either way, if you were honest.

   He noted your frantic expression when he stepped inside, but he didn’t comment on it, possibly for fear of setting off a bomb of emotions, which was admittedly not at all a ridiculous notion.    You wanted to thank him for arriving within a few minutes of receiving your message, but like him, you also feared that if you opened your mouth, the bomb would go off.    He attempted a humorous approach instead, which unfortunately didn’t work either.

   “Sooo… the job involves your own office, hm? Colour me intrigued,” he hummed, taking a little turn around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

   You wanted to answer him with something coherent, something explanatory, but the moment you opened your mouth and sucked in a breath, panic was all that came out.

   “Marcus, I am freaking out!!” you all but shrieked, unable to control yourself at all, alternating between tugging at your blouse and nervously rubbing your sweaty palms down the sides of your jeans to try and dry them.

   “Whoa, hey… Easy, hermosa. What’s going on?” he beckoned, sounding honey smooth, but it wasn’t nearly enough to ease your racing thoughts down the slightest.

   You returned to pacing, still frantically trying to make your hands do something, as if it could somehow release a bit of the tension from your frame. But you must’ve looked absolutely crazy.

   “She wants me… Me… to be in charge of the ENTIRE Creative Division!” you spewed, not even looking at him to gauge his reaction, because you were too busy trying not to asphyxiate yourself through hyperventilation. “Which would mean I’d be in charge of everything from approving or even developing new action-figures, toys and games, to overseeing the school material for superpowered children.    It would mean being responsible for several smaller departments, handling budgets and lawyers and-… Oh my god… he press!?”

   You could feel your pulse skyrocketing and suddenly you really were struggling to breathe.

   “I… I can’t do this… Marcus, I can’t! It’s too much, too big… I’d never be able to handle it,” you panted, no longer pacing but twisting and turning on the spot, clawing at your collar even though it was already loose.

   But then a flare of anger found its way to the forefront of your emotional turmoil, and you were immediately spurred back into motion, gesticulating even wilder now.

   “And she knows it too! I swear she’s doing this just to fuck with me… What other reason could she possibly have, to offer someone completely inexperienced and untested such an advanced position?    You’re right, she is horrid!”

   Somewhere in the back of your head a small warning light was going off, yelling something about how you weren’t sure if certain offices in this building might be bugged, and if so, by the very same person you were cussing out right now.    But you couldn’t see that little blinking light behind all the blaring neon signs made up of your anger and fear.

   “Okay, please just stop moving for a second,” Marcus implored, and you wanted to, but your body felt like it was boiling and freezing at the same time.

   You felt like you were a freight-train, needing several kilometres of stopping-distance once you’d reached top speed. And you had no idea how to even operate the brakes.    Marcus had to grab your shoulders and physically stop you, and you still kept trying to tread on the spot.

   “Look at me, querida,” he beckoned, and while your eyes were darting all over the place, at his urging you managed to force them to stop on his beautiful face, and it made it slightly easier to breathe. “You survived the impossible. You did that.    Sure, there were doctors and nurses helping you fight, but all they did was keep your heart beating. The rest was all you.    You are the strongest and bravest person I know, and I truly believe that there is nothing you can’t do.”

   “But… I had you to lean on,” you protested, not really because you thought he was wrong, but simply because you were overwhelmed, and you wanted someone to tell you what to do so you wouldn’t have to think on your own anymore.

   “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” he countered with a nonchalant twitch in his shoulders. “And what in the world makes you think you’d have to do this alone?    Besides me, there are literally hundreds of people in this building that wouldn’t hesitate to help you if you asked. It’s kind of what we do here, remember?”

   You sighed and bowed your head a bit, feeling defeated by the fact that he wasn’t taking over your burdens and letting you escape from taking responsibility for yourself. Even though you knew he was absolutely right in just being supportive and encouraging.

   “Not two hours ago, I stood in your office telling you that I didn’t want to be a manager, and now that’s exactly what she’s asking me to be,” you lamented, the lack of movement forcing your body to settle down and the adrenaline to ebb out, leaving only deeply rooted fears and angst behind. “Every inch of me is telling me to just run out of here, and not even consider it, because this is not who I am.    I’m not a career-woman, I’m not ambitious like that. I don’t want fame or more money, I just wanna go to work every day and know that it makes me happy.”

   You looked into his eyes again, searching for some kind of positivity or at least softness, to shield your fragile nerves from the harshness of reality and responsibility. But instead, you were met by an uneasy sadness, the origin of which you couldn’t understand.    That is, until he spoke.

   “If that’s how you feel, then… why are you still here?” he asked, and he sounded so frail suddenly, as if one word from you could send him shattering into a thousand pieces.

   He’d always seemed so solid to you. So steadfast and reliable. And now he was crumbling, because of something that was happening to you.    For the first time since you found out what the job was, your body stopped trying to crawl out of its own skin, and you felt your shoulders slump with failure and shame as you realized what your words must sound like from his perspective.

   “Because of you, Marcus,” you hurried to explain, needing him to know just how important he’d already become to you. “Because the idea of coming to work every day and see you, talk to you, be a real part of your life, in any capacity, makes me absolutely light-headed with joy.”

   Damned it, why were your eyes watering? You needed to see his face clearly to know how he was reacting to this, and whether you should back off or press on.    But your heart was open and its contents already pouring out, so in truth, there was no stopping it regardless.

   “Even though I’m terrified of this job and all the repercussions it could have, there’s also a giant and treacherously fearless part of me which keeps telling me that none of it matters if I can just see you.”

   It ended up being a bigger statement than you’d intended, and now you were suddenly terrified you’d said too much.    You studied his face carefully as he stared back at you, but he looked… indecipherable. There was no way to tell if what you saw in his face was joy or sadness, or maybe incredulity. It could be all of the above.

   But whatever it was, you only saw it for maybe two seconds. After that, he was abruptly too close for you to make out anything other than the sensation of his lips on yours, instantly making you forget about everything else.    This time, his kiss wasn’t tender or soft, but demanding. Craving. As if something had unlocked within him and was trying to suck you in and lock you up so you could never leave him. Even his physical reaction seemed to confirm it, holding you so tightly to him you couldn’t have escaped his grip if you’d tried.

   Like before, your body reacted without your permission, or giving any advance warning, heating and quivering with the pleasure of feeling him pressing his entire body against yours.    You felt your hands find their way to his waist and immediately pulled his shirt out of his suit pants to go exploring on the warm skin of his torso, which he seemed to like immensely. Feeling your hot skin against his drew a deep growl from him, sending tendrils of excitement through your blood.

   He let his own hands slip underneath your shirt, but since he was clearly reluctant to allow any space between you, he settled for just stroking and caressing the taut skin of your back and occasionally squeezing the softer curves of your love-handles.    It wasn’t until your knees were actually starting to cave in from the oxygen-depravation caused by your uncontrollable panting, that he finally pulled away. His own breathing was equally laboured, and you were mildly smug about that.    At least you weren’t the only one losing control.

   “Damn… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push,” he apologized as soon as he could speak, which threw you for a moment.

   But then you realized he was referring to your earlier reaction and how much it had scared you, and you could see how it would worry him.    This time had felt different, though. Maybe because it hadn’t been you who’d instigated this one. Or maybe just because you’d gotten over the shock of the first time now, so it felt less overpowering.    Whatever the reason, you were only happy in that moment.

   “I would say this felt more like being pulled…” you winked, shifting your arms up to wrap around his neck. “But either way, I enjoyed it. A lot, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

   “It did seem like it,” he chuckled, before turning serious again. “I just wanna be clear about the fact that I’m seriously not in any hurry. Yes, I obviously like you and I want to explore this further, but only on equal terms.    And as far as the job’s concerned, I don’t care if you take it, I’ll make sure you get to see me every day anyway, if that’s what you want.”

   You pulled back just a fraction, so you could look into his eyes without having to cross yours, and you were pleased to feel his grip around your waist unchanged even as you leaned your shoulders back.

   “I didn’t dare to believe you might be into me like this,” you admitted. “I told myself it was just about the recovery, and you were simply being the kind and helpful person you are. That you’d probably do the same for anyone who needed you.    Because why the hell would superhuman Team Leader Marcus fucking Moreno ever look twice at little old me, if not for the supervillain crossing my path.”

   “No, hermosa,” he immediately rejected your perspective. “It was never just about trying to set things right for you.”

   “I know. Somewhere in my heart, I always knew it was more than that. It’s just that I’m used to being passed over, or not even being noticed, and then you come into my life with this incredible intensity and emotional availability, and I couldn’t believe it was all for me.    To be honest, part of me still doesn’t.”

   “Yeah, I remember,” he surprised you by saying, and when you raised a questioning brow at him, he elaborated. “Do you still feel like our care of you was exaggerated?”

   You ducked your head then, not wanting to answer, which was of course also an answer.

   “Mm-hm, that’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Tell me what it’s gonna take for you to believe me when I say you’re worth every effort? Not because you’re special or more important than anyone else, but simply because you exist.”

   “I don’t know,” you admitted, raising your head enough that he could see your face, although not meeting his eyes yet. “I’m just such a mess right now. So much has happened in such a short time, and it still keeps on going. Like I’m on a treadmill and someone keeps increasing the speed, waiting for me to fall so they can laugh at me.    And maybe I’m dead wrong about everything, but I have never been cared for by anyone. I’ve always had to take care of myself and I’m proud of the fact that I always have.”

   “Yeah, I kinda guessed as much. And you should be,” Marcus softly commented when you paused to breathe, and this time, you did look up and meet his eyes.

   “I really don’t know if I can do this. But I think the reason it scares me so much is that a part of me really wants to try, you know? While another part of me is so sure I’ll fail that it just makes me wanna forget about the whole thing.    And then in the middle of all that, there’s you, and everything I feel about you, mucking it all up and making it impossible for me to know if I want the job because of you or because of the challenge.”

   “Hm. That’s a lot going on in just one little head,” he agreed with a mildly concerned crease between his brows, but he wasn’t trying to be funny.

   “Too fucking much…” you nodded, and then tried to bring a little humour into it yourself, just to take an ounce of weight out of the conversation. “Regardless of the size of the head.”

   It did work, making him smile again, but he was still concerned for you.

   “Ay, querida. Tell me what you need from me to help you make this decision?”

   You looked down on your own hands, which had settled on his chest at some point, and you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt while you tried to think.    What did you need?

   However, Mrs. Moreno had apparently decided to be the one to help you with that, as she, yet again, barged into the room unannounced, with that uncanny timing of hers.    Giving no indication she was even surprised to see her son’s arms around you, or your ruffled clothes, she simply stepped around the two of you, calmly looking at the desk and the chairs as though she was surveying the place.

   This seemed to you to be extremely odd behaviour, but Marcus looked only annoyed, so he clearly knew exactly what she was up to. He didn’t even bother loosening his hold on you, and just patiently waited for his mother to explain herself, as if they were engaged in a match of who could stay quiet the longest.    It took a while, and you wondered if you should interject, but something told you to just stay out of it.

   “Well?” she finally caved, after like five minutes of aimlessly trudging about.

   But it wasn’t her son she was addressing. She turned to look at you as she uttered the single syllable, and all at once, you knew exactly what she was referring to.

   “Am I wasting my time on you, or not? Because I told you; I don’t have time for intermissions,” she bluntly stated, letting her cane come to rest between her feet while she placed both hands over the head of it.

   Marcus’ arms tightened around you, as though he was trying to protect you from having to answer. But you did.    She could’ve offered you more time to think about it, but it wouldn’t have made the decision any easier to make. And you were fairly certain she knew this, which might mean she was actually trying to help you. Although it seemed unlikely.    You pushed away from her son, who reluctantly let go of you, and turned to face her.

   “Okay. I’ll take the job, but I’m not making you any kind of promises.    You know my resumé, which means you know damned well I’ll most likely fail, which for all I know, might be exactly what you’re hoping for.    But whatever angle you’re working, you better believe me when I tell you that this is not a game. You might be enjoying this, but it’s my reputation and credibility which gets ruined if I can’t cut it, so stop treating me like some stray dog you took home to try and domesticate.    I’m not your god damned pet.”

   You didn’t say it loudly, or angrily, just potently. And she smiled in return, which actually managed to make you feel better, somehow. Like you’d been officially initiated into the Kingdom of Mamá Moreno.    Now you just had to prove your worth. Which… shouldn’t be that difficult, right?    She swung her cane to the side and started walking, and it looked like she would leave without any further comment.

   “You’re welcome, hijo,” she smugly grinned at her son just as she passed him on her way out of the room.

   “For what?!” Marcus almost barked at her. “Stressing her so badly you nearly gave her a fucking heart-attack?”

   “No, mi amor. For showing you her heart,” Anita countered, impressively calmly, but her son apparently didn’t buy a word of it.

   “How would you know anything about her heart? You haven’t spared a thought to her or given her the light of day in four months,” he challenged, but she just left, looking for all the world like nothing at all significant had happened.

   Meanwhile, your nerves went straight back to fraying, and while Marcus was still shaking his head and staring after his mother in disbelief as the door closed behind her, your pulse had already hit the roof again, and you were literally seeing stars.    Your knees actually did finally give out, and you slowly drooped to the floor, panting, but with no amount of pleasure this time.

   It was a slow and silent kind of panic now. Something building from deep within you, freezing more than it burned, turning you abnormally still as it locked your body up, piece by piece.    Your breathing was the only thing giving away what was happening, and once he heard it, he forgot all about his mother and hurried towards you.

   “Sweetheart, what is it?” he asked as he crouched beside you.

   You wanted to answer him, but your jaw was locked up with the rest of you, so you closed your eyes and tried to think about happy places and peaceful moments, and it gradually brought some warmth back into your blood.    He seemed to understand you needed a minute and used his hands to rub soothing circles on your back and shoulders while he waited, and then just held you until you started being able to move again.

   “…Creative Department Manager,” you whispered, tasting the words for the first time, and they were just as daunting as you’d expected them to be. “Fuck me,” you added, just trying to release some tension from your brain.

   But from the corner of your eye, you could see him trying to resist smiling at your words, clearly relaxed now that he knew you weren’t going to need to visit the med-section.

   “Quite happily, hermosa,” he grinned, just barely able to keep from giggling. “But maybe not on the floor of your new office, on your first day.”

[nikossfwfics]

Tis the MFing Season

Total word count: 3490

Background  

46 words 

 Set in  1994. Duff is 30 and Izzy is 32. I changed Duff’s family dynamic to where Duff has an older brother: Bruce, 43, and two older sisters: Tina,35, and Christine,40. his mom’s name is Alice and there is no father figure in the picture

Part 1  - Holidate 

789 words 

Duff couldn't believe he had stooped this low, but here he was sitting next to Izzy on the beat-up couch in their beat-up apartment. “Please Iz,” Duff pleaded, “I already told my mom I was bringing someone to Christmas this year, I can't go back on that now.” Izzy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “get Axl to do it,” Izzy shooed away the blonde.

Duff cringed at the thought, “You don't understand, man-” Izzy cut him off mid-sentence, “I do understand; you are desperate and begging me to accompany you to Seattle for your family’s Christmas party. Well, guess what? It's not happening”

Duff knew it was stooping low but if this were what it had come to he would just have to pull out the puppy dog eyes. “Don't look at me like that,” Izzy said plainly, “you look stupid.” despite his friend's words he continued to press, “Please. Please! PLEASE!”

Izzy stood up from the couch and sighed. “Fine,” he said, giving up, “I'll go with you, but I'm not going to enjoy it!” he accused. Duff jumped up in excitement, “Trust me, there's never a dull moment with my family.” he joked before walking away to pack his bags. 

Izzy felt a single moth flutter in his stomach. He cursed himself for letting his stupid feelings get in the way of his morals. He was 32 years old, damnit. He shouldn't let his childish crush get in the way of his rational decision-making. Izzy had no idea how this was going to go.

I mean, fake dating? Really? What was he, a middle schooler?  He retorted in his mind. He must be half out of his mind to have agreed to this. nonetheless, he did… and he had to go pack his bags as well. This will go swell! 

The plane ride to Seattle was less than terrible. First, he forgot his walkmen, secondly, he had to sit behind a guy who obviously did not care about his legroom, finally, Duff slept on his shoulder the entire time. ‘Why would that be such a problem,’ you ask. Well for one, Izzy sat completely still for a 3-hour flight, going absolutely insane. That wasn't even the least of it when they got to Seattle, it was 40 degrees outside. 

As they stepped off the plane into the piercing cold air, Duff sighed happily and Izzy groaned. “How are you so happy?” Izzy grumbled. “It's colder than a polar bear's toenail.”  

“Im home,” Duff replied with a warm grin that brought a tinge of heat to Izzy’s cheeks.

When they stepped off the airport grounds, they saw a group of people with signs saying their names. Duff chuckled at the signs and ran up to hug the older lady of the group, who Izzy assumed was Duff’s mother. 

After a couple of exchanges of “Welcome home,” and “I'm glad to be here,” they caught a glimpse of Izzy standing nervously a few feet away. They all shared a look of equally perplexed as they were excited. Duff got wind of their confusion and decided to properly introduce Izzy to his family.

“Guys, this is Izzy,” he said to his family members, “Izzy, this is Bruce, Tina, Christine, and my mother Alice.”

Izzy nodded in acknowledgment and extended his hand out to Alice, “It is very nice to meet you, Mrs. McKagan,” he smiled kindly and genuinely, “You’ve raised up a very lovely person.”

Alice accepted the compliment and shook Izzy's hand, “it's wonderful to meet you as well, Mr Stradlin”

“Please, ma'am, call me Izzy” Izzy requested. now it was Duff's turn to swoon over his best friend. He shifted his weight from side to side wondering if anyone noticed the slight blush that crept upon his face.

 Bruce looked at Izzy, then to Duff, then back at Izzy, completely addled “Hold up,” he interjected, “Izzy is a dude?” 

Both Duff and Izzy were taken aback by this question, “Of course, Izzy’s a dude. Why wouldn't he be?” There was an uncomfortable pause and the air was thick for a second. Then it dawned on him. Duff chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, “I guess I didn't specify if Izzy was a girl or a boy. Sorry,”

“Duff I didn't know you were gay,” Tina spoke up. Duff laid his head in the palm of his hand. “Tina,” he sighed, “I came out when I was 16.”

this wasn't news to Izzy because, duh, Duff was gay. Why else would he ask Izzy of all people to be his “date”? But at the same time, why not slash? They're pretty buddy-buddy. Could it be, maybe, Duff actually likes Izzy? No, that would be absurd.

Part 2 - Sleepy Drive Home 

533 words 

The steady beat of last Christmas by wham! Flooded the ears of the passengers. The car ride to Duff's childhood home wasn't the worst, but Izzy was exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, he was falling asleep while sitting up.

“Iz,” Duff whispered, calling the attention of the crow-haired male; there was no reply, “Izzy! Wake up, we’re here,”

Izzy hummed and popped back to life “What?” His voice was groggy and filled with sleep. Duff couldn't help but chuckle at Izzy's sleepy nature; Needless to say, it was adorable. He was so sound and peaceful that Duff dreaded waking him up. 

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Duff spoke softly as he propped Izzy up, slinging one of his arms around his shoulder. “God, you're heavy!” he exclaimed, knowing Izzy wasn’t in the mind to snap back. 

Once in the house, Duff struggled to help Izzy take his coat off and get him into bed. Duff turned around to his family who were all watching the scene unravel, “im gonna get this one to bed he’s had a long day.” they all mumbled quick okays as the two boys retreated to the guest room.

At this point Duff was also extremely tired; too tired to give a hoot about how there was only one bed for them to stay in for the next week. Duff threw Izzy down on the bed, soon following suit. 

The room was silent, the only noise being Izzy’s soft snores. But Duff couldn't seem to fall asleep there was so much on his mind. “Izzy?” Duff turned to the side to face him, “Izzy, are you awake?” 

Izzy also turned to his side so that they were face to face, “I am now,” he grumbled. Duff let out a sigh of relief, he wasn't alone. 

 “It's Christmas Eve tomorrow…” the blonde stated. Izzy nodded in acknowledgment, “I know…” 

“You don't seem excited. what's wrong?” Duff pressed.

“I dunno…” Izzy breathed, “I guess I just never really liked Christmas time.” 

duff looked taken aback, how could someone not like Christmas?! He said in his mind. He placed a reassuring hand on top of Izzy's. 

“You see, I didn't have the best childhood,” he went on to explain,  “when I was born I was a crack baby, but her own son coming out an addict didn't stop my mom from quitting. Not at all. When I was 13 she overdosed, leaving my dad to take care of me and my two younger brothers, Kevin and Joe.  My dad worked three jobs just to provide for me and my brothers. I remember scrounging up as much money as I could to buy them at least one gift on Christmas because as far as toys went that's all they had. So when I think of Christmas I think of absent parents and loneliness.”  When he spoke Izzy's voice was barely above a whisper, full of sadness and regrets. 

“Iz…” Duff felt apologetic for bringing up the subject, “Iz, that's terrible, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be,” Izzy gave Duff's hand a squeeze, “it's not your fault. Now go to sleep.” And so they slept, hand in hand, Feelings bubbling about in their hearts. 

Part 3 - Christmas Eve morning 

548 words 

The next morning Duff woke up like, well, a kid on Christmas Eve. He was quick to notice his and Izzy’s sleeping arrangements; with Izzy spooning Duff in his sleep- You'd think with how tall Duff is he'd be the big spoon, but I guess not- A familiar heat spread to Duff’s ears as he rolled over to be face to face with the crow haired male. 

He shook Izzy awake, “Izzy!” he exclaimed softly, “Izzy, you've got to wake up. It's Christmas Eve!”

Izzy grabbed onto Duff's waist, unconsciously searching for warmth, “No, it’s not.” He grumbled. Duff couldn't help but chuckle, lovingly. Abruptly came Duff’s entire kinship, along with his mother holding the camcorder. 

Great, duff thought, this was somehow getting back to Axl, so that he could torment them for the rest of their lives.

“Awe!” his mother cooed, as Duff stood up trying to find clothes. He'd have to talk to her about personal space later.  A mass of messy black hair shot up off the pristine pillows, “what the hell is going on?”  he queried. “Merry Christmas Eve, sleepy heads!” Christine honed in.

Now that Duff was fully dressed he strung the blind open, letting the sun stream through. Izzy groaned, sitting up in bed and glaring up at Duff.  The family members started getting bored of watching the two “lovers” scramble to get themselves together and started leaving one by one. 

“What time is it?” Izzy asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eye. “It's early enough for my whole family to catch us cuddling,” Duff teased, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“We were not cuddling,” said Izzy, 

“You were literally spooning me!” Duff snapped back playfully. 

“Shut it, Mckagan!” Izzy stepped closer, all in good nature. 

“Make me, Stradlin.” Duff also took a step closer, their warm breath mingling. It was an unspoken challenge to see who would back away first. It was Izzy. He couldn't take the tension anymore, not when real feelings were behind it. 

“Ha!” Duff said, victoriously, “I gotchu!”

Izzy just smiled, rolled his eyes, and walked out into the living room, where the family sat in a circle on the couch. “What did we miss?” Duff raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, boys!” Alice spoke gleefully, “Perfect timing, I've got a job for you two.” 

Duff looked at her intrigued, while Izzy… not so much. “Of course! what is it, ma?”

“You two boys will be in charge of my last-minute Christmas shopping!” she said as if it were the greatest gift to be given this holiday season.

“I love Christmas shopping!” Duff squealed with delight

“I hate Christmas shopping,” Izzy muttered under his breath so that only Duff could hear. 

“It's settled then,” Alice clapped her hands together, handing Duff the list, “you boys go out to town and get all these things from the market,”

“Will do!” Duff gave a quick sweet smile to Izzy as they slipped on their heavy coats. He loved causing izzy agony, but this time that wasn't the case. This time he had a mission; a mission to make Izzy love Christmas- along with other things along the way. Hearing about why Izzy didn't like Christmas shattered Duff's heart to pieces and he was determined to change that fact.

Part 4 - Holiday Market 

234 words 

By the time they got to the market, it was already dark. if you ask Duff, it was the perfect time because they got to see the lights. If you asked Izzy he would probably say that it was loud and he wanted to go home. He could barely hear the soft piano playing over the hundreds of people talking, shouting, and yelling. 

Duff took notice of Izzy's nervous behavior and looked at him concerned, “Are you okay?” He spoke quietly and softly. Izzy shook his head ‘no’ and sighed. 

The blonde looked at Izzy with uncertainty, showing brief hesitation, before grabbing ahold of his hand. Izzy snapped his head up, “is this better?” Duff asked, looking concerned. Izzy nodded and smiled coyly. And just like that everything was fine, they could enjoy the holiday market together. 

About halfway through the list, Duff stopped in his tracks, “you good?” Izzy looked at him puzzled 

“Yeah…” Duff said shyly, “Listen, how about we split up for a bit, yeah?” 

Izzy gave him a knowing look, “no,” he said bluntly, “you're not getting me a gift, duff.”

“Whaaaaat?” Duff said, his tone giving away his lies, “I’m not- I just- uh- I-” 

Izzy snorted, “I guess I should get your gift too…” 

Duff's whole demeanor changed, “great! So we’ll meet back here in an hour?” 

“Yeah,” Izzy sighed and they went their separate ways. 

Part 5 - Gift Exchange 

   [im screaming at this part, it's so cute ^_^]

  373 words

They made it back to Duff’s mom’s house after going way over budget- it was all Duff’s fault, I swear. People chattered happily and announced it was time for a Christmas Eve tradition where you open 1 gift from someone else. Duff was ecstatic; he liked receiving gifts but he loved giving them. They all settled down in the living room, in a circle. went down the line opening gifts and Duff made sure he and Izzy were last.

It finally came to their turn and Duff smiled warmly handing Izzy a very neatly wrapped box, izzy smiled even wider and accepted the gift only to hand one back to Duff. It was extremely messy, so messy that im pretty sure it had more tape than wrapping paper. Duff’s eyes went wide and socked Izzy's shoulder.

 “Ow!” Izzy interjected.

 “I told you not to get me anything!”

“Well I did,” Izzy said, turning up his nose, “so open it. “

“Not until you open yours!”

“No, you first!”

they went back and forth until Bruce rolled his eyes “God, you are children! Open them at the same time.” He suggested. The two boys looked at each other and just like that an agreement was made. Once they tore into the gifts they both paused in shock. They had just essentially bought each other the same thing.

“How much did you pay for this?!” Izzy inquired, looking down at the shiny ring.

“How much did you pay for this?” Duff replied, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

Cristine peered over to the boxes and shouted out, “OH. MY. GOD. DUFF IS PROPOSING!” The entire room gasped in unison and Izzy's face suddenly felt hot. He looked at Duff with an ‘Are you serious right now?!’ look. 

“No, no, no, no!” Duff tried to explain, but his mom had already pulled out the Polaroid camera, “it is not a proposal! See, he doesn't even have it on his right finger!” Duff lifted Izzy’s hand to show his family. He did have it on the wedding ring finger. Whoops!

“Why would you put it on that finger, iz?”

“I dunno which finger it's supposed to go on, I've never been proposed to before!”

^ These are the rings ^

Part 6 - Missile Toad

“This eggnog is great,” Duff slurred his words, “Iz, you should try it.” he held up the glass to Izzy’s lips.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Izzy said, denying the glass  “I’d like to keep my sobriety around your family.”

“Awe,” Tina cooed, “The lovebirds are under the missile toad!”  

“Pardon?” Izzy gave her a puzzled look as if she were speaking another language, “the what now?”

Duff gasped dramatically and looked above their heads, “The missile toad!” 

“Don't you mean the mistletoe?” Izzy questioned, starting to think they all drank the spiked eggnog. 

“No, silly,” Christine piped up, “it's our family tradition, when two people stand under the missile toad they’re gonna fall in love… look like that's already happened,” she chuckled, gesturing to Duff who was bent over clinging to Izzy's arm. 

“Yeah…” Izzy looked at Duff wistfully, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, “he sure is something, isn't he?”

Duff looked surprised by Izzy action, “you missed,” Duff whispered. Izzy looked at the blonde, slightly confused but when he puffed out his lips and stared down at Izzy’s, he got the idea. 

Izzy scanned the room to see if anyone was watching, and when he saw they weren't he leaned over placing a sweet kiss on Duff's forehead. After a couple of seconds, Izzy pulled back, “Duff, you're not in the right mind.” 

Duff gave him a small pout “Yes I am!” he attested.

“No, love,” Izzy sighed, “let's get you to bed it's late.”

“But-” Duff tried to object, but Izzy interrupted him with an offer he couldn't turn down, “I'll let you watch Die Hard,” said Izzy. 

 Duff’s smile widened, “okay!”

As they retreated into the guest room alice, Duff’s mom, followed after them, “Hey, izzy?”

Izzy turned around at the sound of his name “Yes ma’am?” 

The older lady sighed and smiled, “please be careful with his heart,” she requested with sorrow painting her voice, “it's just… he’s had it rough.”

Izzy smiled completely understanding what she was talking about, “Of course, I could never do anything to hurt him,” he said knowing every word was the truth, “ever.” 

And with that note izzy and Duff went to their room to watch the world's most action-packed Christmas movie.

Part 7- Big Brother 

The moment Duff’s head hit the pillow he was out, but for some odd reason, izzy couldn't seem to settle the thoughts in his head. He walked out of the guest room and into the kitchen where he found druce, sipping on a hot cup of tea. 

“You couldn't sleep either?” izzy asked trying to create small talk. 

“Yeah…” Bruce’s mouth opened and his brow furrowed slightly as if he were going to say something important, “listen,” Izzy looked up, preparing himself for the ‘big brother’ talk.

Bruce shifted his weight from side to side “You know I know you and Micheal… I mean duff arent really together, right?” 

“No…” izzy said wide-eyed, “I thought we were doing pretty good at keeping up the act”

“No, yeah, You are. I can just see past it all,” izzy nodded, “but i can tell how much you care about him and how much he cares about you.”

Izzy wasn't quite following, “What are you trying to get at?”

“I just want to say thank you.” izzy looked at him confused 

thank you? His thoughts buzzed, why is he thanking me?

“You see,” Bruce continued, “Mikey is my younger brother; my only brother. And, well, he hasn't had the easiest life. When he is with you I can see all the love and excitement in his eyes that I haven't seen in a long time.” Brue patted Izzy's shoulder, “Keep it up… and uh… he’ll keep  you around.”  

Izzy nodded in agreement “You want some coffee?” Bruce offered.

“Yeah, thanks,” Izzy said.

Part 8 - Santa Baby (I ran out of names) 

Duff woke up on Christmas morning with his head pounding, but the worst thing was that he was alone and cold. duff stumbled into the living room where he saw izzy sitting by the fireplace wearing the single most ugly Santa sweater he had ever seen. Izzy didn't seem to mind though. The usual scowl on his face was replaced by a genuine smile and, boy, was it contagious. Izzy noticed Duff standing by the doorway and made his way over to the blonde. 

“G’morning, sleepyhead!” izzy said softly, placing a small kiss on Duff’s cheek.

“Morning.” Duff groaned.

“You ready for Christmas, dear?” izzy asked.

Duff grumbled a tiny “my head hurts…” and izzy was already handing him a pain pill and a glass of water. 

“You're an angel,” Duff chuckled as he glanced down at Izzy’s lips. Izzy raised a brow, smirked, and then held a missile toad above Duff’s head. A small heat crept on Duff's face as izzy leaned in. Duff leaned in slightly, his eyes flickering from Izzy's lips to his eyes. 

“Is this okay?” izzy asked in a whisper.

They were so close to each other that their breaths mingled. duff nodded as izzy closed the gap between them, placing a comforting hand on Duff’s cheek. Duff felt his eyes flutter shut as he melted into the surprisingly passionate kiss. izzy smiled against Duff’s lips as the room roared with cheers.

[could-be-gayer]

Chaotic Fanfic Recommendation

Do you enjoy werewolves? What about teenage werewolves that have so much trauma it could fill the ocean? Enemy redemption? Enemies to kinda friends to friends to roommates to lovers? What about angry Boi x ex-evil trauma Boi?

Then, this fanfiction is for you!

'The courage to keep on living in the midst of these ruins' by theroyalsavage

This is a story about Theo and Liam, and the aftermath of Monroe's invasion. This focuses on Theo, and him trying to navigate being a teenager, who has been in a hell dimension, who has taken down so many in the McCall pack, who thinks he is a broken and useless science experiment made for disaster. Theo cares for Liam so deeply that he doesn't even realize. Theo views Liam in a light that makes Theo think he does not deserve him and will destroy him if they are together. Liam does not take this sh*t.

In the end, this is a story about finding your way in a world that seemly rejected you and you have forsaken for long time. That finding someone to make you realize you deserve to be here, and that you are cared about. It's about growing into someone you like above all else and how that takes time, but when someone you love and who loves you can makes the journey a little easier.

Stats!!!!!! Your favorite part!!!!

Words: 11,944 Comments: 25 Kudos: 429 Bookmark: 90 Hits: 3490

My Bookmark note: This is a beautiful piece to show how someone who wants to change tries so hard to fight it, but changes without noticing. How loving someone is as easy as breathing, and the thought that you would hurt them destories your soul. This is truly an amazing piece of art.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40381470

(The link hates me....boooooooooo)

[lilolilyr]

Reader Wordcount Tag

Through the year 2024: February & March

January

In February I read 3.302.973 words in fanfic

In March I apparently read 9.591.750 words?! Half convinced there has to be a mistake bc that's almost as much as I estimated for 2023 in total!

Might have missed some fics that I clicked but didn't read nor bookmarked (I get my calculations by going through my Ao3 history + 'external source' bookmarks - 'to read' bookmarks - 'to continue reading' bookmarks - 'don't read didn't like' bookmarks)

But... To be fair I already got about a million from external works (so mostly ffnet stuff) alone this month, and I Definitely was on Ao3 much more than that so uuuhhhhhhhhhh it might not br Far off the mark o.o

March calculations:

History: 70458+29456+685+9666+25198+1223+131086+553338+14390+68425+1100+25069+15186+69130+890+1739+104831+8810+67746+38+13607+8861+10148+47681+9228+13015+1651+1604+1638+37523+4660+36717+14468+5824+2800+5829+22318+32182+25492+701+5068+22837+16518+14733+11962+7523+2815+32015+10745+14594+138205+206306+38487+13944+1029+169282+239712+1457715+270504+6685+74840+185965+311272+48173+214721+60437+6283+54655+32999+16496+107464+23323+31167+419905+24909+639905+108645+327419+584567+152070+191827+135566+72719+1422+2457+40002+1741+1996+3460+2718+3606+105250+66016+2157+216+5728+1668+11957+3367+20767+23796+23235+88715+16538+14403+7435+1024+1237+7091+217+1181+214+71633+34358+2987+7437+3147+42956+92911+1243+774+815+1054+15184+604+891+932+1013+370+872+407+719+857+576+666+237+857+85819+83552+738+26906+1277+1367+6112+128376+85937+3589+13727+31571+85381+94646+41984+498775+19408+1593+232160+286283+613877+5488+1165+84659+23273+10508+2289+1916+9262+57168+68888+3450+15162+39298+4132+386+2341+1868+21245+30056+12216+26885+65840+57392+5719+8819+1416+3434+3490+4680+13819+3333+2988+15101+18178+242407+177701+57529+5047+5365+3604+77395+3092+5685+5898+25+70572+88794+111312+966+259773+28071+4141525

XD I forgot to copy the other additions but it was + 822000 from external works and then - several million that I hadn't (yet) (completely) read

Lots of longfics! I've been binging twilight sioc again (yeah lmao I know), to my shame also HP, and I've been reading a lot of femslash: pretty sure I'm up to date with the Ava/Deborah tag, also read everything in Gunpowder Milkshake that I even remotely care about (not much on offer there so i lowered my standards a lot and even read weird crossovers), Berena my beloved, some old and some new Warehouse 13 fanfics and some in TOG fandom. Oh and some some random leverage and white collar fics!

Like this or lmk if you want to get tagged in future updates bc I'm only tagging everyone once in these otherwise xD and feel free to tag me if you count your own stats! @viharistenno @lavendelhummel @imaginemyhappyplace @observethewalrus @lesbianlotties @toboldlynerd @thearchdemongreatlydisapproves

@asstraightasau-turn @bobeau-beaubo @birdofdawning @batnbreakfast

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 32 - EPISTOLARY

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: ralsbecket

ralsbecket's epistolary fics are works of art, every single one. I love that they play with so many different mediums and workskins – texts, e-mails, letters, newspaper articles, the list goes on. It's super entertaining and engaging, and on top of that, their characterizations and dialogue is also fantastic.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Michael's and Misunderstandings

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,569 Tags: After College AU, Insecure Tony, Artist Steve

Summary: Tony couldn’t fight the little demon of jealousy that told him Steve was ashamed to acquaint him with his other friends. He was always hearing about a Michael and a Joann and a Blick (he’d made fun of the name before, but after meeting Bucky, he wasn’t one to judge). Or, the one where Tony thinks Steve is cheating on him with craft stores.

Reasons why I love it: This fic is so goddamn funny, it makes me laugh every single time. Poor Tony, I'm sure he's never going to live this down. Oh well, I bet it'll make for a good story at their wedding someday. I love this one, and you should definitely read it, if you haven't already!

Blame It on My Star Sign (The Blue Heart Remix)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 6,457 Tags: Sick Steve, Superfamily, Doombots

Summary: Fending off Doombots whenever Victor von Dickhead felt the need to throw a wrench in their plans was never exactly his definition of a perfect date with Steve.

Reasons why I love it: I love everything about this fic – the angst, the hurt/comfort, Peter being the sweetest little boy, Tony struggling with autocorrect – it's all fantastic. Seriously, if you haven't read this one, you absolutely should. It's wonderful!

Focus on Me

Pairing: Steve/fem!Tony Rating: T Words: 186 Tags: Earth 3490, Flirting, Dress Up

Summary: Married life suits Steve and Toni.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, all the married couple vibes, I can't. This feels like it was plucked straight out of their actual phones, it's giving me all of those stable relationship feels. I love the embedded art too, Tasha's outfits are fire! Definitely check this one out, it's wonderful!

Hiding in Your Eyes, Hanging on Your Tongue

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 774 Tags: Established Relationship, Newspapers, Marriage

Summary: After becoming the President, more eyes than ever before were watching Steve's every move. Tony doesn't mind too much.

Reasons why I love it: I fricking love the story formatting here. It suits the plot so well, what with the outside looking in on Steve's private life now that he's president. And that last article puts the biggest smile on my face every time I read it. You should absolutely read this one, I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

signed, sealed, delivered, i'm yours

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 1,500 Tags: Getting Together, Letters, Marvel Noir

Summary: Famed adventurer Tony Stark recieves a fan letter from Steve Rogers who lives vicariously through his stories in Marvels: A Magazine of Men's Adventure.

Reasons why I love it: Awww, Steve being Tony's fanboy is just about the sweetest thing I've ever read! His letters are adorable! And Tony's last letter to Jarvis just makes my heart melt. I love this fic so much, ralsbecket and starksnack did such a great job with it. I really hope you give it a shot so you can experience it for yourself!