#other people do a whole bachelor's degree in two years.

[caressthosecheekbones]

I did it. I fucking did it. I passed the driving test. 🙏😭😂🥵🤪🥳🥰😍😭🥳😅🥹🙏🤪💞🥵🤣🥂

[m00ngbin]

I'm trying to pick a major that I would be the most interested in just because it would make my life so much easier and right now I have like three ideas and they all have a million problems

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[ninyard]

The Scriptures aka towning according to nin. (subject to change)

can’t do this without acknowledging the descriptions of them by @rekikiri which are just perfect plus some more stuff on them here and this wonderful background by @tara-the-star

(I owe everyone like a million socmed posts just for putting up with my shit re: this. enjoy!)

austin michael browning

- southern boy. has a soft southern accent. i was thinking something like southern georgia, but his parents have a stronger accent than he does. he didn't want to be known as the sweet darlin' southern boy when he moved to virginia for his FBI training, so he tried his best to speak a bit more neutral

- it didn't last long

- 6’2, soft brown hair, beautiful brown eyes. he’s covered in freckles and has the most gorgeous warm skin with some terrible tan lines. when he tans, he tans.

- he’s quite built but you can only tell when he takes off his suit jacket or he’s wearing just a shirt/t-shirt. if he could’ve gotten an a+ on the fbi fitness test he would’ve. he’s incredibly strong and goes to the gym most mornings (at like 6am. he’s a real early bird)

- has a bachelors degree in law/criminal justice

- was a detective for two years in georgia until he went to quantico. worked on criminal intelligence cases, but occasionally worked on juvenile crime cases. he had one particularly difficult case involving both departments (organised crime involving a minor) which inspired him to work for the FBI.

- has four siblings. he's the middle child with two older sisters and two younger sisters.

- he’s a somalier without being a somalier. literally knows anything and everything about wine. always has the right bottle of wine for any occasion or meal. recommending wines and opening his favourite wines is his love language.

- his family live by strict traditional values - two of his sisters were married by the time they were 22, and the other two followed suit at 21 and 23. he has a couple of nieces and nephews that he doesn’t get to see too often but he’s their fun uncle. he had a lot of pressure to find a nice girl and settle down, and always brushed off the girlfriend question (he even made up a fake girlfriend when he was in college, just to get his parents off his back) ((they didn’t “date” for very long))

- his dad worked on a farm his whole life and his momma has always been a housewife. his sisters were the only ones his mom taught to cook and clean. he had to teach himself a lot of life skills in college. he still occasionally ruins his clothes by washing them wrong but he’s learned to get his work suits dry cleaned. it’s much cheaper to do that than have to get new ones when he inevitably shrinks them.

- his mom never teaches him how to cook/bake, but she gives him a handwritten book of recipes when he moves to maryland for work. it sits on a shelf in the kitchen of his apartment but he’s never used it

- (until towns visits his apartment for the first time and tells him that he has to make him some of his ‘momma’s recipes’ someday. browning falls in love, naturally, and tries a couple dishes and treats)

- he didn’t really know or acknowledge that he was gay until he was in college. he’d had a few “girlfriends” here and there in highschool but he always felt like he was forcing himself into liking them. he kissed a boy for the first time when he was 19, and everything made sense for him, but even still he buried it down quite deep and focused on his studies instead of relationships.

- his family are not accepting at all. He grew up around a lot of homophobia and slurs and disrespect of lgbt+ people, and so that made it really hard for him to come to terms with his sexuality. he started to distance himself from them when he went to college, and the weekly phone calls with his mom turned to once a fortnight, into once or twice a month, into whenever she eventually didn’t take no for an answer and kept calling until he picked up.

- the only person who knew that he was gay was his oldest sister, who he came out to when he was in the third year of his degree. she was honest and told him that their mom and dad wouldn’t be supportive of him, but she wasn’t going to tell them either.

- she always changed the topic when the “girlfriend” conversation came up when he would go home for thanksgiving or Christmas or some other occasion. he appreciated that a lot

- started smoking cigarettes in college and struggled to give it up. he barely smokes anymore but every now and again on a tough case he finds himself reaching for a packet of cigarettes (towns hates it)

samuel arthur towns

- new york new yooorkkk. he was born somewhere in new york that i haven't figured out yet.

- 5’11, mixed with a white dad and a black mom. he wears glasses. he’s not as big or strong as austin is, but he’s in really good shape. he has gorgeous dark brown eyes and spends way too much time on his hair.

- has a tattoo on his thigh.

- he’s an only child to his absolutely amazing mother and father. they’re SO supportive of him and have always trusted him to make good choices in life - he tells his mom everything. he calls her almost every other day and visits home as often as possible.

- has a double bachelors degree in psychology and law from Columbia

- was a backliner on his high school exy team but never had any intentions of becoming an athlete/going pro. he was a TOTAL jock back then

- when he graduated college he pretty quickly knew he wanted to do something good that wasn’t necessarily becoming a cop. he waited until he turned 23 and on the day he finished his two years of working in an attorney’s office, he applied for a job with the fbi

- came out as gay pretty young. his parents have always been fairly liberal (his mom was a hippie back in the day) so he came out as a teenager and they’ve always been cool with it

- right when he was in the middle of his FBI training in quantico, he was dumped by the man he’d been dating for like two years. he had to put it to the back of his mind to focus on the academy, but it was one of the things that made him and austin first start speaking

- he’s kept journals since he was a kid. he has a full shelf of journals and sketchbooks from the age he was 10 or 11 until the present. he always carries a little black notebook with him and writes down his thoughts and little sketches. (its full of doodles of browning)

- his parents also have books and boxes full of photos of him from birth. it’s like an INSANE number of photos. their attic is just full of boxes and boxes of pictures. (austin’s favourite is one they have on the wall in the living room of sammy as a teenager in his exy gear)

- in turn he’s really into photography too and always takes photos. he shoots on film, so he has loads of boxes full of photos too. his dream is to have a dark room in his home.

- his mom really is his best friend. she’s his biggest fan, and the reason he studied psychology. she’s a holistic therapist, and gives the BEST advice. his dad is a food critic.

- when he was younger a friend of his was killed after because he became involved with the wrong people and ended up in a gang. it totally changed a lot for him, and seeing the way the case was handled really inspired him to get into law/want to go into the fbi. he saw all these young black boys from underfunded and underprivileged backgrounds finding themselves caught up in gangs and when things would happen to them - it was clear the effort to stop the feuds and the violence was not as important as if a young white man had been killed, or indoctrinated because he had no choice.

- his mom was worried when he told her that he’d applied to be in the fbi. they had a very long conversation about the realities of what he would see working with the fbi, why he wanted to do it, what it would mean for his future, and the things he couldn’t do. he knew all of it already, having researched it all as soon as he realised it was the career path he wanted to go down, but she really wanted to be sure he knew what he was getting himself into. it scared him, for a little bit, but he knew it was the right choice for him.

- he has a license, but doesn’t drive that much. he didn’t really need to drive much living in new york, and 90% of the time, in maryland, austin drives him around.

- he’s partially deaf in one ear from a crash that happened during a car chase a few years into working with the fbi.

- the hardest part about working where he does was learning how to shoot a gun. he hates it. like he’s good at it and smart with it but he hates having a gun. the first time he shot a real person he held it together until he got home later and was practically in shock. (he wasn’t sure if telling his mom broke confidentiality or not, so because he was on the case with austin, he invited him over and he ended up staying the night just to keep him company)

- austin and sam only lived in seperate apartments for about six months when they moved to maryland until they decided to move in together. austin was already renting a two bedroom apartment, whereas sam was in a studio, and it just made more financial sense for them to move in together. ("financial")

- he started crushing on austin so early on in their friendship, but he had no idea that austin was pretty much the same.

- austin and sam met when they both started their training in quantico together. they were roommates at the academy but didn’t really interact too much. they only really started talking after one of the first weekends they were allowed to leave the campus - towns went home to visit his boyfriend on the Friday and came back trying to hide the fact he was a wreck on Sunday. he tried not to talk about it, because they’re judging their emotional maturity in the academy, but when browning asked if he was okay, he spilled a little too much.

- even after that, they weren’t really friends. they talked, of course, about their classes and the academy itself, but that was mostly it. towns didn’t know browning was gay, because he never mentioned it, even when towns told him he was gay. most evenings austin would sit at his desk with headphones on while studying, and sammy wouldn’t usually interrupt.

- then one time when they’re both at the gym at the same time, austin notices sam working out, and his form isn’t quite right for the work out he’s doing. austin corrects him after telling him he’ll hurt himself working out the way that he is, and he helps him through a couple of other sets that he does himself. they go to the gym together most days after that, spotting each other when they’re doing weights. they start running in the mornings, too.

- during the course of training there’s a couple of occasions where students at the academy are expected to wear business attire. they’re both getting dressed up in their suits, and austin is kind of embarrassed because he doesn’t really know how to properly tie a tie. his dad usually tied them for him, and for some reason even though he swore he knew how to do it, he’s just really struggling. sam offers to help and austin ends up talking a little bit about his family, but not giving away anything about how shitty they really are.

- one of the weekends they’re allowed off campus, later on at their time in training, towns asks browning if he wants to go out for dinner and a drink. it’s not a date, and neither of them think it is, but neither of them were going home for the weekend and they both wanted to do something. austin ends up picking a restaurant based off their wine list, and they talk about their lives outside of quantico for a little bit. they can’t exactly go out and get drunk - or they’re both afraid to do so in case they get kicked out of the academy - but they sit and talk and share a bottle of wine.

- they get closer, and when they graduate, towns’ mom and dad show up, and browning’s family doesn’t. they take pictures together (one of towns’ favourite photos ever) and sam introduces austin to his mom and dad. they’re going out for a celebratory meal, and sam’s dad invites austin along so he’s not celebrating by himself. he refuses, but when they insist, he comes along.

- oh and it’s SUCH a nice evening. he fills any rare awkward silence by explaining his wine choice to sammy’s dad, while sam’s mom nudges her son and raises her eyebrows like oh, he’s cute.

- they exchange phone numbers before they both head home to wait for their offers.

- (austin spent most of those 18 weeks smiling because of how close him and sam got. sam spent about half of that time thinking damn. am I falling for another straight guy?)

- austin calls sam first the day they find out where they’re being stationed. they tell each other on 3 that they’ve both been stationed in maryland and oh my god. Austin didn’t even know he was going to feel so relieved but he’s like holy shit. I didn’t even realise i was secretly really hoping that we were going to work together.

(there’s more but. I have to stop myself. The brain rot is setting in deeper and deeper)

[honeyedmiller]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests currently but I was wondering if you do if I could get a fluffy imagine with Frankie or Pedro where the reader is in her early 20’s and Pedro is his current age and just how navigating life dating each other would go (like an average day off for the two and the adventures and mischief they would get up to 🤭🥰) thank you!!

As someone who's in their early, almost mid-twenties, this is feeding into my delusions soooo bad LMAO but this is super cute. Thanks for the request!<3

warnings: (very much legal) age gap, fluff, a teensy bit of angst

You met him coincidentally at a PR event your school was holding, and he was one of the guest speakers. You were in your senior year of college, aiming for your Bachelor's degree in Communications with a concentration in PR. The industry always fascinated you, and you were fortunate enough to be chosen to be the one to ask him questions about his agency and the point of view from the celebrity's side. After the interview, you stayed back to help clean up the remnants of the event, and that's when he came up to you and shyly asked if you'd like to join him for a cup of coffee within the next coming weeks.

Since then, every day was a new adventure for you two. Sometimes they started off the same, as you happily made a Starbucks run that was close to Pedro's cozy home in Los Angeles. Sometimes, they started with the bed already empty, as he'd gone off to do an interview or press release of some sort.

And then there were days like this one, where you woke up to his lips softly pressing themselves all over your face. You look up at your lover, a smile never failing to spread across your lips.

"Good morning, honey." He coos at you as you stretch, a few bones popping in the process.

"Good morning, handsome." Your sleepy state makes Pedro melt as you reach up to brush the slightly graying hair away from his forehead.

You'll be completely honest—dating a man that was twenty-something years older than you has been a challenge. Not particularly with Pedro, because he wasn't the challenge at all. He treated you like a princess and made sure you were comfortable in all aspects of your relationship with him.

It wasn't that, no—it was the incredibly harsh comments you've gotten from the whole world, and how many weren't kind to you— more specifically when you two finally came out of the dark to say you've been together for over a year.

It subsided over time, but you'll still get nasty glances when you two are out in public just minding your own business. It's like the world forgets that you two are consenting adults.

If it weren't for the age thing, people would constantly accuse you of being a gold digger, only pining after Pedro for his money and his most recent successes. That just wasn't the case at all, and he knew that. He'd tell you to ignore the comments because only you two truly knew what went on in your relationship.

You tried so hard to ignore it, and it would work for a little while, until your overthinking mind would come collapsing onto you full force and you'd have a breakdown about it. You would go through the breakdown alone most of the time, mainly because you didn't want to burden Pedro or make him feel bad that the world could just be so cruel sometimes.

As time went on though, you became better at ignoring it. People finally got used to the idea of their beloved internet boyfriend actually being in a real-life relationship.

"Since I have the whole day off today, I was thinking we could go get some brunch and take a drive down PCH. The weather is really nice today." Pedro smiles down at you as he cups your cheek, his eyes scanning yours as he awaits your answer.

Getting out of the house would be really nice, especially since California had been experiencing some nasty storm weather in the recent months.

"I'd like that, mi amor." You grin as you peck his lips before lazily rolling out of bed, getting ready for the day alongside Pedro.

-

Pedro almost always insisted he drove whenever you two were together. Something about being his 'passenger princess', as he called it, satisfied a part of his need to take care of you. He knew you were more than capable, but as long as you were with him, it was nothing but love. His hand rested comfortably on your thigh as the warm breeze whipped through your hair as he drove down the busy streets of LA.

He pulled up to a regular brunch spot for you two on Melrose Avenue. Paparazzi was luckily nowhere to be found, at least to the naked eye, and you were grateful. It was overwhelming sometimes with how they loved to shove cameras in both of your faces. The lack of personal space was prominent every time they were around.

He held the door open for you and you gladly thanked him, immediately getting sat by the host. It was a weekday, so it wasn't busy at all. You noticed the few people that were in the cafe staring, though, but you kept your gaze either on Pedro or the decor of the quaint building.

"So, we have the whole day together. What would you like to do after the drive?" He reaches across the table to grad your hand, his thumb softly grazing the back of yours.

"I can think of a few things." Your grin is mischievous as you wiggle your eyebrows, causing him to laugh.

"Well there's definitely always that, too." His smile meets his eyes, giving your hand a light squeeze.

Your food arrived shortly and you graciously thanked your server as you began to eat the delicious French toast with blueberries and strawberries on top. You two sometimes ate in a comfortable silence, especially if the food was delicious. Just being in the presence of each other was enough to keep you both satisfied.

When the server brought the bill and left it on the table, you snatched it before Pedro could even reach for it and set your card down. He started to protest, but you shook your head.

"You already take care of me in many ways, mi amor. I need to treat you to stuff, too." You grab his hand on the table and raise his knuckles to your lips, kissing them.

"Fine." He sighs as the server comes back to collect your payment.

"I can see the headlines now—Y/n pays for brunch at cozy spot in LA. Is she really not a gold digger?" You mimic an intense news reporter tone, hands stretching in the air to quote the article title. Pedro laughs boisterously, shaking his head as his hand covers yours.

"What fools they are, everyone knows you're just with me for my money and devilishly good looks." He rolls his eyes and scoffs, the sarcasm dripping from his tone. You two giggled like schoolchildren at your petty jokes.

It was one of your favorite things to do with each other: make fun of ridiculous accusations from the press and turn it into your own little jokes, just between you two.

The server comes back with your card and you smile up at them, leaving a generous tip before signing the receipt and getting up from your chairs.

"Your chariot awaits, m'lady." Pedro sing-songs from behind you, the smile he's kept on your face for the past few minutes never receding.

"Why thank you, my noble knight." You lean up to kiss his cheek before he ushers you out of the cafe. His hand rests on your lower back before you reach his car, and he opens the passenger door for you.

"Thank you my honey." You saw paparazzi start to show up on the street, and he glances at them before looking down at you.

"Let's give them something to talk about, hm?" He quirks his eyebrow up before using the hand that rested comfortably on your lower back to pull you flush against his body, before dipping his head down to kiss you passionately.

You couldn't help but smile into the kiss before reaching up and locking both of your hands behind the nape of his neck. You were the first one to reluctantly pull away, your lungs burning and begging for air.

He ushers you into the car with a quiet 'watch your head' as you sink into the passenger seat of his car. He comes around and settles into his own seat, driving off to the highway with a beautiful view of the ocean.

You don't exactly know how you ended up here—hell, if you were to tell yourself this would be your life now, you wouldn't have believed yourself. Dating Pedro was as easy as breathing, despite the negatives along the way.

But, the positives always outweighed the negatives, and you were so fortunate to call this loving, goofy, humble man yours.

[foreverrandomwritings]

M! Congratulations again!!

It’s a celly without some romantic Fanboy, is it? [SHELTER ]  for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public(jealousy) and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay (soft and sweet).

Opposites Attract

Summary: Pushing through your anxiety you decide to finally join your husband Mickey at a squad cookout. Will your anxiety cause you to back out? Will your husbands comfort soothe your worries?

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x afab!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, depression and tooth rooting fluff.

Word count: 1666

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist

You and Mickey had been married for 10 years now. But together for 15 in total, high school sweethearts as they call it. No one understood how your relationship worked. Where he was extroverted you were introverted. Where he was a big ball of sunshine you were a black void of grump. Him an optimist and you a pessimist. You would simply tell them that opposites attract. 

Though you weren’t truly that opposite of each other. You both craved physical touch and words of affirmation. You were both huge fans of common things. You had actually met him while doing a play together in high school. Both of you being stage hands as stage fright was something you had in common. You bonded quickly and had been inseparable ever since. 

You went to college while he went to the academy. You got a masters degree in creative writing and a bachelor’s in criminology. That led you to where you were currently job wise as a mystery thriller fiction author. You were the proud author of a whole ongoing series. It was also easy for you to write and move along with him as he got stationed at different locations. 

Fanboy had supported you through college and through your journey of writing the best that he could. You in turn supported him through the academy and through all the different deployments he went through. You had however found yourself staying in your own company most of the time. Having struggled with anxiety and depression your whole life meeting new people was something you tried not to do often. 

Mickey respected that decision and never pressured you to go out of your comfort zone. He always made sure to spend plenty of time with you. You would often have movie nights cuddled up together on your couch under a big fluffy blanket. You’d binge series while eating your weight in junk food. Puzzles, reading books, legos, board games and relaxing in blanket forts while whispering sweet words to each other were many other things you did together. 

While he never pressured you to meet any of his coworkers you knew deep down he wanted you to be a part of that life. You had met Payback, his wife and kids already. You’d do weekly dinners with the family. That made your husband ecstatic but you knew he craved more. 

So when he mentioned a cookout that Maverick was planning you figured that would be your chance to meet everyone. Much to his surprise you said you’d go with him. He reassured you many times before the event that you didn’t have to go if you didn’t want to. He made sure you knew that he was perfectly fine staying inside binging Criminal Minds with you until the wee hours of the morning. But you insisted that you were finally ready to meet everyone.

Your anxiety leading up to the day wasn’t as terrible as you’d expected it to be. But the day of all the anxiety seemed to hit you like a hurricane. Wave after wave after wave coursed through you as the hours ticked by. You had changed your outfit about a million times before Mickey finally stopped you and chose an outfit for you. The outfit was simple and similar to his outfit; jeans, a graphic t (matching his) and an old worn pair of vans. 

You had made two batches of brownies and two pitchers of sweet tea for the cookout. Though you were assured by your ever caring husband that it wasn't necessary at all. You got gathered into his car making sure you had everything you needed. 

“Hold on cariña.” Mickey called out as you reached your door. You looked at him expectantly and were pleasantly surprised when he brought you into his arms. He wrapped them around you and squeezed you against him. He knew that pressure could sometimes help relieve some of your anxiety. 

“You’re gonna do great. You are strong and brave, kind and thoughtful. You are in control of what happens. If you want to leave we will leave just give me the word.” He told you before giving your head a kiss. You squeezed him back as you took a deep breath, your nose filling with his scent, tajin from the candy he had eaten earlier and aftershave. 

“I’ll make sure to let you know if I want to leave Mick.” You told him in reply. That seemed to ease some of the worry he had because he let go and gave you another peck on your forehead. Opening your door for you he ushered you into the car. Then he was rounding the hood and getting into the driver's seat. He held your hand the whole way there, letting you get lost in thoughts as you stared out the window. 

Pulling up to the house you let out a shaky breath squeezing his hand. You both climbed out of the car. You grabbed the container with the brownies in it and Mickey grabbed the jugs of sweet tea. He gave you one last kiss on the head before you were both walking up the driveway to the backyard. You heard the group way before you saw them. There was splashing in the pool from the kids and chatter from the adults.

“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.” Mickey reassured you once again. You would never get sick of the way he cared for you. He was the steady land around your unsteady volcano. You gave him a smile you hoped was convincing but by the look he gave you, you figured it wasn’t. 

“I’m ready to meet everyone, Legro.” You replied, before you were pushing the gate open and entering the backyard. You heard a shout of your name and looked to see Payback's wife heading towards you. 

“Are those your brownies I see in there?” She asked you as she peered into the container in your hands. 

“Don’t worry Denise, I got you a batch to take home in the car.” You whispered to her, she gave you a mischievous look in return. 

“I knew I liked you for a reason.” She said simply before greeting your husband. They talked for a brief moment before she was called away by Tina, their youngest and only daughter. 

“Let’s go meet everyone.” Mickey said to you as he nodded in the direction of the crowd. Your feet answered for you as they moved across the lawn. Mickey was close behind you, catching up in one quick step. You were determined to get the awkward first greeting out of the way quickly even as your hands shook. 

“This is my wife.” Mickey said as he introduced you to the group. All eyes on you as you stared at the container in your hands. 

“Let me take that from you.” Mav said quickly moving towards you to grab the brownies out of your hands. Then Rooster was grabbing the jugs of tea from Mickey. With nothing to look at but your bare hands you trailed your eyes up to the group. 

“Hi.” You said barely above a whisper as you stepped closer to your husband. You leaned into his side as he brought an arm around your shoulder. The awkward side hug was enough to calm your nerves. They all went around the table quickly introducing themselves and greeting you. 

The night was running smoothly after that. You stuck by Mickey's side talking to people occasionally. At one point Phoenix asked you what you did for work and your shell loosened as you talked about the new book you were writing for your series. Bob perked up at that and had said he had actually read your whole series almost 5 times over. But then he got confused because he hadn’t realized you were the author. You explained that you used your middle name and maiden name as a pseudonym. 

Mickey had gone to get a drink and got caught up in a conversation with Hangman when you suddenly needed to go to the bathroom. You looked around but didn’t see Denise or Payback anywhere figuring they were off with one or all of the kids somewhere. Not wanting to interrupt your husband, you decided to go and find the bathroom yourself. After knocking on and opening almost every door you finally found the bathroom. 

You made quick work of going before washing your hands and drying them off. As you opened the door you ran straight into someone. You let out a grunt as you stumbled back a step. Anxiety suddenly running through your body at the thought of having run into someone. But the grip on your arms soothed you back down before you could erupt. You recognized the hands instantly. Looking up, your eyes connected to a set of worried chestnut brown ones. 

“I couldn’t find you outside. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He said as he scanned over you, hands still on your arms. 

“I’m alright Mick, I just had to go to the bathroom real quick. Didn’t want to disturb anyone so I just kinda wandered around for a moment.” You told him as you reached up to wrap a hand around his wrist squeezing lightly. 

“Let’s get back out there then cariña. They just announced dessert and I don’t want everyone to eat your brownies before I get some.” You laughed at him as he gave you a goofy smile. Then you were walking hand in hand back to the gathering. Mickey made sure to grab a plate full of brownies glaring at Rooster when he protested the unfairness of it. He gave you a sweet kiss as he sat back beside you and handed you a glass of sweet tea. You decided then that maybe his found family wasn’t so bad and you might just want to spend more time with them in the future.

Translations:(Google so don't come for me if they are wrong.)

Cariña- Honey

Legro- Light

A/N: Thank you for this request T. I love writing for my husband. That gif of him makes my head swim.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff & @sylviebell

[shinyasteroids]

@shinyasteroids studyblr intro ♡

☆ about me

hi! my name's amira, but you can call me amir, too (he/she, certified futch). i'm a 21 year old doing his best to survive the spanish educational system.

i am new to studyblr/langblr, but not to tumblr as a whole. i decided to create this account on a whim since documenting my academic journey does help with my executive dysfunction. i want to meet new people, too!! since other's efforts inspire me to keep working on my own. :))

☆ my studies and academic journey...

i had a really harsh start with my first degree, which i ended dropping out of after two years of getting nowhere. unkind, borderline sadistic professors + hard subjects + the biggest burnout of my life made me unable to keep up with it. nowadays, i'm in 2nd year of a bachelor's degree in arabic and islamic studies and way happier than i was then. it's still harsh, but i know i can do it.

☆ what kind of posts you can expect

apart from life/study updates, a bit of everything, really? anything about my interests, which are: arabic (of course), science-fiction books, geology, languages, lgbtq+ media, music (usually me nerding out about bass lines), animanga, etcetera etcetera.

i don't think i have anything left to say. nice to meet you!!! :)

[missiletoe]

last fill of the day for yuri shipping olympics - back to our roots, kittyuri <3

Word Count: 1022 Prompt: Flower Shop Owner x Tattoo Artist AU

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the ripe old age of twenty-two years old, Kitty Song Covey is the sole owner of KISS Flowers. Or at least she’s currently the sole owner, although she’s not sure how much longer she’s gonna keep that title if she keeps staring at her latest customer instead of helping her.

The customer in question has a black crop top and a sleeve of chrysanthemums blooming along her arm. The ink is a rich purple that blends into black at the edges and there’s a separate stem of smaller flowers that curl around her bicep. Kitty does not open her mouth and gawk because that would be weird.

“Hi?” the woman says, waving her hand haphazardly to grab her attention. Swallow. Kitty lets the thought do the mental equivalent of slapping herself straight across the face and remembers to close her jaw.

“Hi,” she replies and because she was an absolute mess at 16 years old and is just the same mess but with a Bachelor’s degree and six more candles on her birthday cake, her hands run absent-mindedly across the counter as she tries to figure out what the fuck to do with them. What does she normally do when there are other customers? Rest them on the register? Tuck them underneath?

She settles for wringing the stem of a rose like it’s a bird’s neck for lack of better options. The woman across the counter quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t raise a question. Kitty nearly topples from the relief.

“Is your power out?” Kitty blinks. She has a list of expected conversation starters filed away in her mind and that wasn’t in the repertoire.

“What?” Kitty replies eloquently. The woman points to the lamps they barely use, courtesy of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The plants need the sunlight and it saves money on electricity.

“The power. Is yours out too? I think it’s out for the whole street because none of our machines will start, but we weren’t sure.” 

Kitty’s brain chugs through the questions like it’s swimming in molasses. She rubs her neck and is horrified to see her fingers slick with sweat. Is that why she’s been sweating through her apron all day? She just assumed Minho had forgotten to pay the power bill again.

“I think so,” she says and kicks herself in the shin. She’s 2 for 2 with the stellar responses today. “Our AC’s out.”

The woman finally relaxes, a smile easing onto her face. She sticks one hand out over the counter and Kitty notices that her nails are painted midnight blue.

“I’m Yuri,” she says and Kitty absent-mindedly thinks me too before yelling at herself to get a grip. “I work at the new tattoo place across the street. The heat’s been killing us all week long.”

“That’s not the only thing killing me right now,” Kitty says because her mouth has always moved faster than her mind. She swallows the mortifying squeak that tries to crawl out of her throat. “I meant that I’m Kitty and that there’s been a horrible… bug infestation lately! Pesky little things keep eating all the plants before they have a chance to grow and it’s killing us–you know what that’s like.”

Yuri stares at her for a bit but eventually takes the stammering in stride.

“Well,” she says awkwardly, pushing her hair out of her face. There’s an array of stars scattered on her side and Kitty stares. “That does sound like–”

“Fireweed,” she blurts out. Yuri blinks at her.

“I’m sorry?” she asks. There’s more confusion than annoyance laced into her voice though and Kitty decides to take it as a green light from the universe.

“Your tattoo,” she says, reaching for her arm absent-mindedly. She pulls her hand back when she’s halfway there with the realization and it hangs awkwardly in the air between them. “Those are fireweed, right?”

Yuri tips her head back in a real smile for the first time–one that spans the full length of her face. It’s a beautiful sight.

“Most people can’t tell that,” she says and Kitty laughs. She shrugs half-heartedly at the plants spilling out of their pots all around them, hanging on the walls and scattered across the floor. Yuri follows the line of her hand and grins.

“Fireweed’s an interesting choice,” Kitty says. “They’re one of the first things to grow after a fire, right? And that’s the best living conditions for them too.”

Yuri smiles again but there’s something hard twisted into her eyes this time.

“That’s right,” she says. She glances back at the doorway quickly and Kitty’s overcome with fleeting panic. The cold hook in her gut feels like folding on a winning hand. “Well, I better get going now–”

“Stay,” Kitty blurts out. If she had a nickel for every time she leapt before she looked, she could retire right now. Yuri blinks at her in response. She’s been doing that a lot. “You said all the machines were down right now so you can’t work, right?”

Yuri nods slowly, like she’s easing herself into cold water. Kitty grins.

“Stay,” she says, turning up the wattage of her smile to the max. Minho likes to say that it’s blinding and she should wear a cloth over her face to spare the rest of humanity but Minho likes to say a lot of things and over half of them are complete bullshit. “Stay and tell me more about your tattoos! Why fireweed? Why chrysanthemums? Why those colors?”

Yuri nearly buckles under the barrage of questions. Kitty’s aware she’s a bundle of nerves standing across from her, a ticking time bomb about to explode but Yuri’s studying her with more curiosity than annoyance.

She spares a glance at the clock and Kitty watches the moment she caves. Her mouth twists for a few moments before it hardens into something solid and she meets Kitty’s gaze head-on, leaning against the marble.

“Well, I guess I could spare a couple of minutes. And I was about to go on lunch break anyway.”

That’s all the permission she needs. Kitty grins and pulls her behind the counter.

[corleonewrites]

La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Summary: Two people connected by the same past. Two lawyers. And one tangled case which brought them back together again, giving them the opportunity to sort out their feelings towards each other, no matter how painful memories are to both of them can be.

Chapter 2. Nocturne No. 8 In D Flat Major

Underground train was running fast, taking me to my destination: to the café, which was situated in the heart of Paris, right in the Place Vendôme, to meet Vincent. Chopin’s compositions in headphones were passing my ears by without notification as memories started to pop up in my head. I didn’t want to fall into them, but I couldn’t help it just how couldn’t delete old conversation with Vincent from my messengers. It was a habit of mine to reread them from time to time, making me hurt once again.

______________________________________________________________

“Have you heard that there’s going to be teachers exchange this year, Camille?” – asked Loise, a friend of mine when we studied at Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne.

It was the final year of master’s studies. I just turned 24 and looked forward to finish studying and start new chapter in life after my graduation. At that time, I wanted to make a pause in studies after receiving my master’s diploma and return to them to get PhD in a couple of years later.

Nothing was extraordinary in exchanging teachers and tutors, as it happened during my BA studies and I myself had one year study exchange and lived in London for final year during receiving bachelor degree.

“And I’ve heard from Estella that he’s quite handsome”, continued Loise, “She saw him in the corridor, he was asking for our lecture room.”

“Oh, please, you’re only thinking about these kinds of things when our exams and degree essays are soon”, I rolled my eyes, taking pens and notebook with student book out from my bag. Sometimes it was pissing me off when everyone was talking only about boys. And yes, sometimes I was jealous for my friends who actually was in relationships, but at that time I concentrated only on my studies.

“And she’s not the only one who thinks the same way! Helene and Annie think that he’s handsome too!”, finished Loise when the door to the lecture’s room opened and the man entered the room: slim figure in grey jacket and black turtleneck, slightly tousled grey hair, and blue-green eyes which caught my attention. I must admit that he was handsome indeed, but at that time I just sat on my desk and opened the notebook, giving to the man zero cunning affair-like attention whatsoever.

Meanwhile, almost every girl in my group, and there weren’t many of them, got all their eyes on him and I felt embarrassed because of it.

“Good morning, class”, the man said and placed his bag on the desk’s chair, “My name is Vincent Renzi and I’ll be your tutor and mentor for this whole study year of your final studies.”, Vincent said and turned to the chalkboard to write his name on it.

I wrote his name in my copybook and looked at him once again, this time paying close attention to what he was about to say to us. How good was his handwriting. I could say it definitely when I looked at the chalkboard with Vincent Renzi name on it.

“I know that we don’t have a lot of time for fooling around, because your final essays are about to be written, but because I don’t know you at all I’m offering you one task for today’s class: take a piece of paper and write a small essay about you. It can be anything you like: why did you decide to study law, what was your favourite subject at school, what’s your favourite colour, just anything”, he smiled a little when he heard how students laughed at his offer cheerfully, “And if you don’t want to write about yourself – write an essay about something you like or want to discuss. Or don’t write at all, and do what you want, but just be quiet.”, he sat on his desk, “You can take your time, you have it until lunchbreak”, Vincent finished and opened his small red notebook and started making notes.

“I’ve told you he is cute”, Loise whispered to me, smirking, but I just rolled my eyes.

“Oh, stop it, Loise, and start writing”.

______________________________________________________________

“Pyramides Station”, the voice of the underground train informed me. It was my stop.

Trying not to fall into the memories completely, I excited the underground. The street was quiet and snowy. Crossing through the traffic lights and crowds of people who were shopping gifts for Noёl, I was getting closer and closer to my final destination.

I asked myself all the time if I was sure that I wanted to take new case, believing ahead that it’d be as tough as my recent one was, when I promised myself to relax and have couple of days off before starting a new one. But at the same time some thoughts were eating me: that I would miss something very great but very emotional and life-changing if I wouldn’t agree.

This uncertainty was in the air when I finally reached the café and opened the door immediately finding a very familiar man, who was sitting in the left corner, near big windows: same slim figure, his same slightly tousled grey hair which now was covering his eyes a little as he was writing something in the small red book, a cup of black coffee was standing nearby. He heard the sound of my footsteps and raised his head up and smiled with a slightly surprised look on his face when I wanted to fall into the ground, and my legs felt like they weighed a ton.

“I’m so happy you could come, Camille”, - his voice was soft and soothing as it was when I’ve heard him for the first time, years ago.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure that I’d be here at all”, I replied dryly and ordered the cup of coffee as the waiter approached our table, “I’m still thinking about your question and I need to know the details before I’ll make the final decision”

He paused a little, probably astonished by my reply. His gaze quickly ran from my eyes to my hands, which were lighting a cigarette in my mouth.

“Of course, I understand you”, he said and moved closer to me

“Also, I still have the question: why did you write me? You could pick someone else, your colleagues, or another student from my class if you’re this kind of a picky person”, I exhaled the smoke of my cigarette”

Vincent laughed a little, when my heart started to beat faster once again.

“But you’re one of the most successful lawyers in Paris, right? And you’re free”

“Free in what way?”

“I heard you’ve just won the hearing. Congratulations, by the way, I’ve heard it was a tough one”

I smirked “Ah, that’s what’re you talking about. I got you, Vincent. And thanks, it was indeed very hard. Anyways, we’re here not to discuss my successful work, right? What’s the case that you’re working on?”

And Vincent began his story about the tangled and strange case on which he just started to work on, when all the details were still unknown and complicated.

______________________________________________________________

“What were you writing about?”, Vincent suddenly appeared behind my back when I just finished writing my essay about law in cinema.

He picked my paper, when I raised my glance at him looking unemotional.

“You told us to write about anything we like. Here’s my essay about law in cinematography”

“She’s François Truffaut of our class”, Jean-Louis, my classmate and future co-worker said out loud and some of students started to laugh. I just turned back and gave them the look, when Vincent looked at them, then back at me with cunning glance, and placed my papers back on the table.

“Well, at least I now know that with mademoiselle Cadieux I can talk about films and she has a very good taste in them”

I looked at my tutor once again, because I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or talking seriously, but he wasn’t laughing at all. And in that exact moment I understood that it’d be a very unforgettable final year of my master studies.

______________________________________________________________

“It sounds tricky”, I played with a spoon in my empty cup of coffee, trying to place all the information about the case in order inside my head, “It honestly looks very bad, especially with the fact that your client isn’t French. The law for foreigners is way harder and with the accusations that she has, it looks lost in advance”

The café started to be filled with people who came to have their weekend brunch or just a cup of coffee, couples and friends were laughing. Me and Vincent were still sitting at the same table near the big window. The snow just stopped.

“I know, but I’m sure that this case can be won and that she’s innocent. Well, at least she looks like one.”, sighed Vincent, finishing smoking his cigarette, “And the whole process is taking place in a town near Alps, I just got from there to take all papers and documents that I needed with me, I’m heading there tonight. So, if you make up your mind, Camille, I’ll help with you with accommodation”

“Many thanks, Vince, but I’m not a little girl, I can sort these kinds of things by myself”, it was really irritating sometimes when he was treating me like a small girl, he was always like that, “I’m not sure neither about the case nor about your client, but I love taking risks, so, I’m up for it”, and before Vincent tried to say something else, I finished, “And let’s just make it straight, I’ll help you out and this will be only work-related talks, nothing more than that”

Vincent looked straight into my eyes as he was trying to read my thoughts which were screaming for my loneliness and how much I missed him but hated him at the same time.

“You didn’t change a bit, Camille. You were always a cold-hearted strong and mysterious woman from when I saw you for the first time”, he tried to hide his little smile, but I saw it, pretending that I didn’t and smoked the rest of my cigarette.

For other people I looked serious and cold-hearted, and I tried to convinced myself the same way, and it worked really well during my work. But no one knew that sometimes I cried in the night when I couldn’t keep my emotions inside me no more. No one knew about my weakness. Not even Vincent and he was one of my closest people who I used to know.

[plzandspanku]

Real World AU Advice

FOR STARTERS!!! this is a no way hate. I love you all, I love your AUs, I love your storytelling, but sometimes not including real world tidbits in your story can take the reader out of the story and make it hard to continue reading. Use this if you would like if you don't, that's fine.

A band would never realistically have a full-time acoustic guitarist as part of their main set. They might do acoustic songs and switch out guitars during that time but they wouldn't be playing acoustic for every song unless that's the vibe for the whole band.

Not everyone in the band has to play guitar, bass and keys are very important roles in music making process.

If you do have multiple guitarist, the lead guitarist is never going to be the lead singer. The lead singer is going to play rhythm if they're playing the guitar at all.

There are more executive positions than CEO. CFO and COO also extremely important roles in a companies make up under them there are also department presidents and vise presidents

CEO handles everything in the company

CFO handles finances in a company

COO handles the operations internally and externally in a company

Every company has an HR department; please try to write like it exists.

Every single professional sports organization in the world has a policy for drafting. It changes sport to sport.

There is absolutely zero partying or Greek life if you're a varsity sports player. It doesn't matter the sport you're in or what school you go to. PLAYERS CAN AND WILL GET KICKED OF THE TEAM FOR NOT FOLLOWING THE RULES!!

Lawyers cannot sleep with their clients if they did not sleep with them prior to representing them. They would literally lose their license.

The Bar exam to become a lawyer only happens a couple of times a year.

For my non-American dolls!! Our school system is different from what I have seen from pretty much every other part of the world.

Kindergarten: age 5-6

First grade: age 6-7

Second grade: age 7-8

Third grade: age 8-9

Fourth grade: age 9-10

Fifth grade: age 10-11

Sixth grade: age 11-12

Seventh grade: age 12-13

Eight grade: age 13-14

Ninth grade (Freshman): age 14-15

Tenth grade (Sophomore): age 15-16

Eleventh grade (Junior): age 16-17

Twelfth grade (Senior): age 17-18

(The ages are some what flexible but only by like a year in either direction)

Typically kindergarten to sixth grade is elementary school, seventh and eighth grade is middle school, and ninth to twelfth grade is high school. However, depending on where you live sixth grade can be middle school but it's not that way for most people.

Then you have the college system:

Associates degree is two years (sometimes this is referred to as Jr college)

Bachelors degree is four years

Masters degree is two years

PhD is four years

Medical school is four years

Law school is three years

If anyone has anything they would like to add please do!!!

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #237 - Brain Curd NaNo #6

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose. Is any of this interesting?

Any resemblance to real events is entirely legally coincidental. Names and locations have been changed to protect the identities of the fictional.

Three years later, Anorma still wasn’t on estrogen - not through lack of wanting but by lack of trying. She’d spent these long years jogging around, taking one class at a time at community college, staying up late and sleeping in later, stressing out about every doctor appointment she missed instead of setting an alarm or using a calendar.

While I waited until my breasts grew in and my bachelor’s degree arrived in the mail before stagnating, she made a habit of it. Time moved slowly in her world while it raced by around her. Now that I lived two hours away, we didn’t see each other especially often - only once a month or so - but we made efforts to call every night. It wreaked havoc on my sleep schedule though, when most nights she wouldn’t call until midnight, even with reminding. I’d go to sleep only a bit later than she did, around two in the morning, and feel like garbage the next day when I woke up at eleven.

Most of the time, all we’d talk about were our problems, which there were plenty of. I couldn’t find a job and I felt eternally lonely and unworthy. She vented her frustrations with her father, who constantly yelled and stomped around the house while she did most of the housekeeping (though had never been shown how best to do so). We were both trapped in our lives, and though sharing that with each other didn’t do a thing to help, at least we had… something. What it was became increasingly unclear.

Often, I felt jealous of her because she had more than me. Since the beginning of our relationship, she’d been upfront about being polyamorous - that is to say, happy to date and fuck many people all at once. I wasn’t immediately comfortable with it, but figured since I wasn’t putting out it was only fair that I let her sleep around, on the condition that she asked me first each time. I was naturally afforded the same freedom, but didn’t necessarily have the desire or confidence to use it. Not initially, anyway.

But it had been nearly two years since our relationship turned long-distance. She had another partner just a stone’s throw away from her and I had no one else at all. Not even any local friends I saw with any sort of regularity. My social interactions beyond her were restricted to Reddit and Discord. Something needed to change. I was finally going to reap some of the benefits of this whole polyamory thing.

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

[ufonaut]

i already thought the miracle of alan scott’s story in dc pride 2021 wasn’t the kind of thing that could easily be repeated because it’s such a right people, right place, right time sort of deal and so necessary for alan as a character and so completely aware of the person he’s always been and so historically significant that it would be nearly impossible to hit those heights again but man. to call his story in dc pride 2023 disappointing is an understatement.

above all else, i think ‘anniversary’ is politically irresponsible -- it suggests that violent anti-lgbt protests should be met with displays of love on our part, that we should make ourselves and our love as visible as possible to show violent (the key word here) bigots and homophobic lawmakers just who they’re messing with here because apparently that’s what’s accomplished every other victory for lgbt rights we’ve ever seen. it’s a ridiculous stance, and it’s the complete opposite of everything i believe in.

and the story is bad enough as it is, but the degree to which alan is written completely out of character isn’t just offensive to those aware of his history but it also serves to undermine everything that makes his specific story such a significant one. this is the same man that two years ago could barely bring himself to use terms like “confirmed bachelor” and “men... like us” and “patrons of a certain intrigue” when talking about himself and his eighty years in the closet

(dc pride 2021)

and he’s now talking about “queer people”? pretending he’s ever fought back? that mystery men -- especially mystery men of his era -- have ever been a symbol for people like us?

(dc pride 2023)

it’s ridiculous, it’s deeply ahistorical and wildly out of character. it makes him sound like a complete hypocrite too which i could actually get behind if the narrative didn’t insist that he’s right and that the above is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

the entire point of alan’s story is that his has been a life lived in shadow, that the green lantern was afraid all this time, that he stood by and watched as lgbt rights movements came and went and he never once stood in solidarity with anybody like him... because he was afraid. it’s a complicated, messy, compelling narrative -- a late coming of age punctuated by regret and shame. it’s a story so many gay people have experienced over the decades and it’s one that shouldn’t ever be erased or sanitized when talking about the first gay character in comics.

the bravest thing you can do is to live without fear? alan wouldn’t know! that’s what’s it’s all about!

(ps: don’t even get me started on how he’d never suggest the non-violent approach to anything at all, that’s almost the most out of character aspect of the entire thing)

[scryptids]

madison bailey / she/they  ———  no way is that PENELOPE ‘PETRI’ FOSS.. they’re a 25-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being BRASH  &  HEADSTRONG  but there are some people who have seen them being PROACTIVE  &  PASSIONATE.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of handwoven bracelets decorating both wrists, the roll of their eyes anytime someone says something stupid, beaten up vans flung lazily by the door, and the smell of the ocean, but that could just be because they’re considered the SCIENTIST around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

TW: child neglect

full name: penelope flynn foss birthdate: january 29th age: 25 height: 5’9” occupation: environmentalist/activist ship status: hopelessly in love with banks madden bio:

some say that petri wasn’t born, but rather hatched, and they’d be inclined to believe you

born into a family that couldn’t take care of the first child they had, petri and their sister riley were often neglected for one reason or another

their home life had been deemed “unsafe”, and after a few calls were made to CPS, the siblings were whisked away to a foster home shortly before petri’s first birthday

but they weren’t destined to stay there long; after just a few weeks, a sweet couple fell in love with the sisters, and the the adoption papers were ready to be signed

the foss house was already filled to the brim with kids that the couple had adopted (five other children, to be exact), but that didn’t mean that there was no room for petri and riley

in fact, they just made more space for them, ready to show the siblings that they were loved and wanted

the home was in the middle district, a quaint house with a big backyard that the kids had free reign of

and as they got older and were allowed to explore more, that’s where petri’s curiosities about the environment really blossomed

it started with plants and bugs, their nose always to the ground so they could seek out something new that they’d ever seen before, but then it turned into fascination with trees, and air, and the sky, and everything else they could ask a million questions about

but everyone was so patient with them, even as they developed a keen passion for the world around them

they were only seven when they were gifted their first science kit, and it quickly earned them the nickname ‘petri’ (that, and they were obsessed with the little pterodactyl from the land before time)

as they got older, their love for science and the environment only grew

they found themselves volunteering for cleanup projects around the metroplex, always taking orders happily so they could do the best job possible

it was while they were volunteering that they met banks madden, and to say they were smitten from the start would be a severe understatement

the two were joined at the hip from the very start, with banks opening up to petri, and petri caring for banks the best way that they knew how

it was only natural that petri developed a crush on him, and deep down, she always hoped that the feelings were reciprocated, though they’d never say that aloud

he seemed supportive of the work that they did with the environment, and banks was the first person that petri wanted to celebrate with when they were accepted into the university of the metroplex

petri studied environmental science at the university for four years before graduating with their bachelor’s degree, and while they had contemplated going for their masters, they were far too eager to get their work started

it’s been four years since they graduated, and petri has made a name for themselves in the science world, if only in the small circle that they keep

they have a very go-getter attitude, always ready to hype anyone up for the sake of seeing them smile, while also providing support whenever necessary

petri likes to equate this to how loving their parents were, and they’re still incredibly close with their whole family (especially riley)

these days, you can find petri at any protest, or even out in the field shuffling around for their next big idea on how to protect the environment

while it may seem like it, they do have a life outside of science, and their hobbies include making bracelets, visiting any body of water that they can soak in for hours, and irritating the shit out of banks

they are incredibly easy to befriend, but that doesn’t mean they won’t sass you if they see the opportunity

they tend to be very brash and matter-of-fact, but it’s never to offend, but rather inform

[thompsborn]

Don't want to end up oversharing, but I've been following homeward bound from chapter 3 and so much has changed in my life for the better ever since then. I weirdly feel like I've been maturing alongside the fic. I'll be getting my bachelor's degree in two months and I started reading during my first year. You have no idea how special this piece of work is for me and I'm very thankful you've decided to share it with us. I absolutely trust your process cuz each chapter you release is just perfection, whenever you're ready to release more I'll be there to read it. Now getting on with the actual question (sorry for writing so much ijbol), what do you think Harley and Peter think their dream home would be? What style, is it an apartment or a house and all that stuff.

oh my god i ?? i am lowkey crying omg

homeward bound is so special to my heart, i could write pages upon pages about my emotional attachment to this fic, but that would take a whole lot of time and i wanna try and answer your question, but just !! like i know logically people really care about hb too, like i’ve read so many comments and gotten asks and i know it but getting new asks or comments still sends me reeling because it’s so mind boggling and i’m just like?? damn!! thank u sm i’m glad that my post nwm coping mechanism turned general life coping mechanism has been with you like this <3

also! congratulations on getting your bachelors!! hell yeah!!!

okay, okay, okay, so to answer your question, i think it varies on the era of their lives, so like

peter growing up probably always thought it would be nice to have a house one day because he knows his parents had a house that he could very vaguely remember living in, but he was pretty open to home being anything. harley, on the other hand, grew up in tennessee and probably always assumed he’d live in a house because he’s always lived in a house. it probably wouldn’t have been until after meeting tony and thinking about maybe going to new york one day that he even considered the idea of living in an apartment, but even then, he couldn’t imagine it being permanent

by the start of homeward bound things are different. harley is living in the city for the first time, living in a dorm and sharing close quarters with harry, and he’s mourning tony and his life before the snap, still struggling to a world that’s so different from the one he remembers, so for him the concept of a dream home feel irrelevant. like, he’s focusing more on just making it to his classes and his shifts at late night and the unexpected social life that he sort of develops with the friends he was not planning to make, so picturing his future doesn’t extend further than getting through his first year at ESU and signing up for classes, yk?

peter, at this point, has entirely lost his sense of home and assumes he’s never going to get it back (which is why he has not once referred to his apartment as home, outloud or in his head) so he has no dream home because he doesn’t think he’ll ever have a home

i’ll keep this as light in spoilers as possible, but i’ll tag it homeward bound spoilers and give a warning here that this is future hb stuff butit doesn’t actually give away the plot if that makes sense?

the series is called homeward bound for a reason, basically—it’s following the theme of home. the mcu trilogy is titled with home becoming inaccessible (homecoming, far from home, no way home) so i want this series to explore an idea of finding it again

as the series progresses, ideas of home and what it is and what it looks like are going to change and adapt, but in terms of your question specifically, harley and peter are going to wind up with the same idea of a dream home: a small cozy house, not in the suburbs but not in the heart of the city either, within a reasonable driving distance from their friends.

(bonus: harry loves the idea of a penthouse, but in reality would like a house like his moms, or a nice apartment if the location is worth it. gwen grew up in apartments and likes the idea of a house but wouldn’t care if she never moved into one.)

[flowersofjannah]

I want to share some thoughts..

I want to marry and have my husband provide for me financially and to stay home. On the other hand, there is a chance of divorce.. so if I don’t learn or become financially independent myself then what will happen once something happens. 10 years down the line we may divorce or he will be gone from the world. ☹️

Assalamu 'alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh sister,

I understand your concern, and I strongly believe this is a reason why today it is so important for every woman to get a degree, a bachelor's degree in the least! In the older days people were very community based, so a woman had a higher chance of people (brother, SIL, etc) willing to take care of her or share space with her than today. It's all about personal space and independence these days, which isn't all bad, it can be good but to an extent.

So this would be you tying your camel: if a hard time like you mentioned comes, you have something to fall back on and show employers you are educated. Yes, without experience it would be likely difficult to find a job, but it would be even more difficult to find one without experience or education.

So again, this step would be you tying your camel, and the next step would be you relying on Allah SWT. Allah gives hope for better things to come with these situations along with protections for the women, such as mahr, inheritence, child support, alimony etc.:

"O Prophet (صلى الله عليه وسلم)! When you divorce women, divorce them at their ‘Iddah (prescribed periods) and count (accurately) their ‘Iddah (periods1). And fear Allâh your Lord (O Muslims). And turn them not out of their (husband’s) homes nor shall they (themselves) leave, except in case they are guilty of some open illegal sexual intercourse. And those are the set limits of Allâh. And whosoever transgresses the set limits of Allâh, then indeed he has wronged himself. You (the one who divorces his wife) know not it may be that Allâh will afterward bring some new thing to pass (i.e. to return her back to you if that was the first or second divorce).

Then when they are about to attain their term appointed, either take them back in a good manner or part with them in a good manner. And take as witness two just persons from among you (Muslims). And establish the testimony for Allâh. That will be an admonition given to him who believes in Allâh and the Last Day. And whosoever fears Allâh and keeps his duty to Him, He will make a way for him to get out (from every difficulty).

And He will provide him from (sources) he never could imagine. And whosoever puts his trust in Allâh, then He will suffice him. Verily, Allâh will accomplish his purpose. Indeed Allâh has set a measure for all things." — Quran, 65:1-3

"The divorce is twice, after that, either you retain her on reasonable terms or release her with kindness. And it is not lawful for you (men) to take back (from your wives) any of your Mahr (bridal-money given by the husband to his wife at the time of marriage) which you have given them, except when both parties fear that they would be unable to keep the limits ordained by Allâh (e.g. to deal with each other on a fair basis). Then if you fear that they would not be able to keep the limits ordained by Allâh, then there is no sin on either of them if she gives back (the Mahr or a part of it) for her Al-Khul‘ (divorce). These are the limits ordained by Allâh, so do not transgress them. And whoever transgresses the limits ordained by Allâh, then such are the Zâlimûn (wrong-doers)."

"The mothers shall give suck to their children for two whole years, (that is) for those (parents) who desire to complete the term of suckling, but the father of the child shall bear the cost of the mother’s food and clothing on a reasonable basis. No person shall have a burden laid on him greater than he can bear. No mother shall be treated unfairly on account of her child, nor father on account of his child. And on the (father’s) heir is incumbent the like of that (which was incumbent on the father). If they both decide on weaning, by mutual consent, and after due consultation, there is no sin on them. And if you decide on a foster suckling-mother for your children, there is no sin on you, provided you pay (the mother) what you agreed (to give her) on reasonable basis. And fear Allâh and know that Allâh is All-Seer of what you do."

I believe there is also a hadith or an ayah where it is said to the person passing away that they don't need to be worried for those they are leaving behind because Allah will take care of them. Even though I cannot find this, it is still a true statement. Our rizq is from Allah and in Him we put our trust.

lt was narrated from Abu Tameem that he heard `Umar bin al-Khattab (رضي الله عنه) say:

I heard the Prophet (ﷺ) say:

“If you truly put your trust in Allah, He would provide for you as He provides for the birds: they go out with empty stomachs and come back with full stomachs." — Musnad Ahmad, 370

[redhead-writes]

Back to yours Part 2

Can also read it on AO3.

Part 1: HERE

They were back in Turkey, after seven years. They were back in the airport where they started their new life. This time there were more than two of them leaving the plane. Their two kids - four year old son Asim and their one year old daughter Eylül, each on different sides of their dads hips. Asim was pointing out different things and chattering away.

Eylül was following her oldest brother's antics. Kaya was listening so attentively to his kids like he had done for her time and time again. Each day destiny was proving to Suna that they made the right choice about leaving this country and saving themselves. They were followed by their friends from London who had wanted to see where their friends came from. 

“We are finally in your home country. Can’t wait to go to Marmaris. Your stories about it are too good to be true.” said Jason who was the jockster of the group. Suna had become friends with him while she was studying to receive her business bachelor degree and after that also masters one. Kaya, of course, didn’t trust the guy till Jason showed off photos of her wife. That is how they bonded by gushing over their wifes. The kids loved their uncle Jason and aunt Mandy. “But in general, I can't wait to enjoy the sun after the rainy months we have had in London. So lead the way, Sönmez.”

Asuman was the only one from the past that they had let in, so she was the one awaiting them all in front of the airport with a minivan that would take their company to a rental house that could fit them all. They were so used to living in each other's pockets by now. Kaya and Suna started their company with these people. They still supported their jewelry business. Mandy by being their lawyer and Jason by hosting their collection openings in his fancy restaurant.

“SUNA! KAYA!” exclaimed Asuman, rushing to hug them. She has always been their fairy godmother. “Hope the flight was nice and babies didn’t fuss a lot.” 

“No, kids were too enthralled by the whole thing to make a fuss. They have that from their mother. Always interested in something new. Asim is already thinking about becoming a pilot.” answered Kaya, handing Eylül to Suna and Asim to Mandy, so he and Jason could deal with their baggage. 

“How is the Korhan house doing?” asked Suna, interested in hearing what has happened in the last 24 hours. To gauge the situation of how to approach Ferit when telling that her and Kaya’s company will take over Korhan’s family one.

“Ferit is still in denial and tells everyone that he can save the company but we all know that is too late for that. He let it run to the ground. Do you really want to take over a company so run down? It has lost all of its best workers.” Asuman was worried about them and their livelihood. Ferit still thought he was the young golden boy that didn't need to move even one finger but running a company was hard work and sometimes no weekends. Suna knew all about it. Ferit had received power over the company after Halis death. Neither she nor Kaya went to the funeral, sending their representative instead. Suna was pregnant with Asim and Kaya in no way would leave his wife even for a few day trip. Of course, that angered Korhans but there was nothing they could do. That was only four years ago and now the company lies in ruins.

“Don’t fret, dear Asuman. We have it all under control. Since you kept us updated so well, we kept our eyes on the Korhan’s company. We already wanted to branch out and I believe that workers will return to us.” explained Suna, trying to lessen worry of Asuman. “Mandy, we will go with the rip the bandaid approach.”

“I already have the papers ready to review them. I can’t wait for tomorrow to see how you rip that guy a new one.”

“Mandy, don’t forget to record it for us.” said Jason, laughing out loud because that Ferit won’t know what kind of train hit him. Their ladies are the force to reckon with. “Will do, honey, will do! Can’t have only me having fun seeing it.”

*****

Suna and Mandy were in the elevator going up to the president of Korhan company office. She could feel anxiety filling her body. Suna hadn’t seen Ferit for seven years and she can’t predict his reaction to her and Mandy. That man sometimes possessed old fashioned looks. 

“Suna, breath. Maybe Kaya should have come with you and not me.” 

“No, no! I am gonna get hold of myself. It is simply as my therapist said, memories coming back all at once but I am in control. Also Kaya would have punched him as soon as he saw him, I am sure of it.”

“Well…he would be right to do so. Also you know I am not against whooping his arse in a physical way, too.”

“No, I think our usual way of action will be good enough.”

“We got this?” asked Mandy, squeezing Suna’s hand. Squeezing back was all the answer Mandy needed. Then opened elevator doors and they stepped out in the hallway leading to the office. 

“Hello! How may I help you?” asked the secretary sitting by the table.

“We having meeting with Mr. Korhan at 10AM. We are the “Key to the soul” company representatives.” Suna told her, putting on her cooperative voice. This was like any other business transaction but it was more. Their revenge would be complete once and for all even if they had forgotten about it all a few months after finding their footing in London. But the universe told them that all the doors to the past need to be closed. That is why Suna is doing this.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Korhan is already expecting you. Let me lead the way.” she said, getting up and women followed her further down the hallway. “Mr. Korhan, the representatives are here.”

“Send them in.”

Suna took a deep breath and marched in the office with Mandy close by with her phone camera turned on already. She had promised her husband the fun and she is gonna deliver. If Suna wasn’t so much into the business, she would have made an amazing advocate. Ferit even had turned his back to them. Ahh…defensive from the start. So Suna was not surprised when he started to speak to them with his back turned to them: “I would be happy to ask you to sit down but I don’t think it would be necessary because I am straight up declining your offer.”

“Well…I am not surprised this company is so run down when the director of the company can’t even look in the eyes of  another company's director. That is quite rude, don’t you think, Ferit?” observed Suna who sat down in one of the chairs and Mandy did the same. 

Ferit spun on his heel coming eye to eye with Suna. She looked amazing in her navy blue pant suit. Time has been good to her. Still shocked, he asked: “Suna, what are you doing here?”

“You yourself asked the “Key to the soul” companies director and their lawyer to fly out to Turkey, so we could talk face to face. So here I am, but it seems my life was rudely interrupted once again by you. Can you for once make a proper decision in your life and stick to it?”

“You!? A director of a jewelry company? No way Kaya would have allowed you to work in such an important position.Or have you divorced that bastard now? Poor guy couldn’t handle such a gold digger as you.” 

On the side of Suna’s vision, she saw Mandy’s hand ball in a fist but she showed her to calm down. It was not her first rodeo with this idiot in front of her. He could not hurt her anymore. Still Suna stood up from the chair, Mandy followed the suit, holding out the folders for Suna to take.

“Are you the one to talk about gold diggers, golden boy? How is Perlin by the way?” Suna leveled Ferit with one look and the silence stretched out, making the boy uncomfortable. “If you think you know even a thing about my family, you have lost your damn mind. I was here to talk about business and how to make this merger softer on your company but no, you had to stoop so low and call me gold digger and drag my family into this.”

“Suna, I…”

“Stop before you dig the hole even deeper.” remarked Suna. “I was ready to look past our history and give you and this company a chance. My husband is still part of the Korhan family, even if I know you would want him to disappear in thin air. Well, we really don’t want to be connected to the Korhan family either. Still we wanted to give you the olive branch, but, Ferit, don’t forget I have all the time in the world to see this company go down in flames and there is more than one company that would be happy to merge with us. Do you have the same time? Do you have any other options?”

Once again silence took over the huge office. That really was all the answer Suna and Mandy needed. Suna put the folders with two options for offers on the Ferits table and announced: “We will be leaving now. We are here till the end of the week. Ferit, really go through those two offers with all the people that are left in this company and think, if losing the company that is your grandfather's life work, is a legacy you want to leave. Say hi to my sister Seyran. I wish I could say it was nice meeting you but it really was not.” 

Drive back to the house was filled with Mandy chatting away with their taxi driver. She was exercising her Turkish as she said. Mandy knew Suna needed the time to think about what had happened in the office. She already has sent the video to their husbands. Jason had been vocal about wanting to punch the dude in the face and Kaya agreed. Mandy now knew Suna was right about leaving Kaya at home. 

Kaya was there opening doors of the taxi and lifting his wife out of it who still seemed like she was far away in her thoughts. Mandy paid for the taxi and saw her husband in the driveway with two strollers. 

“I thought we could give them some alone time. Suna really seemed out of it.”

“I would be, too, if I had to face my sisters husband, that had to be mine, and then all the mess happened, and then he calls me gold digger.” stated Mandy, taking the stroller with Asim while Jason was making funny faces at Eylül. 

“Darling, you know you would have broken his nose before he even got to digger part but our Suna is more sophisticated. She really ripped him a new one.”

“That was epic. Kaya really choose his match.”

Back at the home Kaya was holding a crying Suna in his arms. She had cried a lot in first years in London when she started to work with her therapist. He also knew how grueling the therapy could be. Kaya let his wife let it all out of her system. Water glass ready on the table when she was ready to face the world once again.

“I wish I could take away your pain, my wife.” he whispered in the halo of her head. “It hurts me that I allowed him to hurt you again.”

“No, Kaya. I am not crying because he hurt me. His words are just words of the man in despair.” 

“Then why?”

“I just thought about what could have happened to us if we stayed here. The hate and pain we would feel for each other.” said Suna, pulling her face out of her husband's chest and greedily taking the glass of water.

“Oh you, silly wife of mine. No need to think about it. We both are here, and have two amazing children. We have two great friends that love looking after our kids.”

“Are you saying we are alone in the house?”

“That is exactly what I am saying. How about we make another cute sibling for our children?”

“It seems like you are a man on a mission already and who am I to stop you.”

“As always you know what to tell me.”

Giggles and happy moans filled the room. Today's bad experience is once again forgotten as a bad dream.