#pillar of the PTA

[parachutingkitten]

Happy Mother's Day to the BEST Mom in all Ninjago:

[isabelguerra]

@ban-joey

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — His tone is twinged with exasperation. You detect a weariness lying just below the surface of these words.

COMPOSURE [Legendary: Success] — Keep your hands steady; don’t let them see how they shake. What does it matter if you’re impatient too? Someone has to be the pillar here. You cannot afford to crack.

YOU — “Could be worse. Could be 10 years instead of 8, right? Ha ha.”

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] — Stop it. Stop tempting fate. Cut it out, now.

YOU — You snap back to the task at hand. The reply, remember? Go on and answer that first.

1. “Oops. I mean, uh- shit. Fuck. Sorry. I’ve made things worse, haven’t I? Reminding everyone of how long it’s been since Johnny saw shades. And now I’m being a baby about it. Fuck. Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should just delete this blog.”

2. “Everything is not fine. The coming end cannot be stopped, baby. Unless it’s the coming of this arc. Because that will never come. We’re all doomed. Embrace despair.”

3. “Hey, c’mon. I’m sure Johnny will show up again soon. His totally *disco* storyline with Forge will light up the sky brighter than a sunset. We’ll watch it all together. Any day now.”

4. Break down and cry.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — Next to you, the Lieutenant’s eyes crinkle imperceptibly. He feigns disinterest, but your mention of the armored spirit’s potential return clearly piques his interest. The look is gone as quickly as it appeared. His eyes return to his notebook.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] — ‘Any day’ may come sooner than you think. Chapter 9 sits lying in wait— revealed to be centralized on this exact subject in a Patreon livestream several months ago, by Zack themself.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Easy: Success] — You can see it now…

LOGIC [Challenging: Failure] — Are you stupid? You know how long it takes to make webcomics. Hitball alone took a year. Whatever this ‘PTA meeting’ subplot is, it’s not looking like it will wrap up any time soon.

[ -1 MORALE]

[gcthvile]

Winn Maximoff

Full name: Winn Pietro Maximoff

Age: 19

Height: 5'9

Nicknames: he doesn't have any nicknames by others but he does get called svet moy (my light) or solnyshko (sun) by Wanda

Sexuality: Bisexual

Powers: Reality Manipulation, Astral Projection, Binding, Clairvoyance, Concussive Blasts, Cosmic Awareness, Creation, Erasure, Elemental Manipulation, Flight, Force Field, Mechanical Manipulation, Healing, Physical Augmentation, Power Manipulation, Power Bestowal, Power Amplification, Power Negation, Teleportation, Portal Creation, Interdimensional Teleportation, Remote Teleportation, Banishment, Telepathy.

Backstory

Wanda's encounter with Julian in upstate New York brought an unexpected spark into her life. Despite the mundane circumstances of a car breakdown, their connection grew during the time he spent fixing her car. Julian's charm and genuine nature resonated with Wanda, providing a sense of warmth she hadn't felt since Vision.

Their romantic journey unfolded, filled with shared laughter and meaningful moments. Julian became a beacon of joy for Wanda, helping her heal from the wounds of the past. Their love bore fruit, and Winn entered their lives, bringing newfound happiness to the Scarlet Witch.

However, fate took a cruel turn when Julian met an untimely end in a tragic car accident. The loss left Wanda devastated, burdened with the responsibility of raising Winn on her own. Despite the pain, she channeled her grief into nurturing Winn, ensuring he grew up surrounded by the love and strength his parents once shared.

Winn, inheriting both Wanda's magical abilities and his father's resilience, developed into a unique individual, a blend of chaos and stability. His childhood, marked by the absence of his father, instilled in him a deep appreciation for the fleeting nature of life and the importance of cherishing every moment.

Childhood and teenage years

Winn's childhood was a blend of ordinary and extraordinary, growing up in the care of Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. Despite her immense powers, Wanda was determined to give Winn a normal life. She shielded him from the complexities of the superhero world, creating a haven where bedtime stories weren't about cosmic battles but simple adventures.

Their home was a refuge, filled with laughter, bedtime rituals, and the occasional use of magic to make chores a bit more exciting. Wanda, with her scarlet-hued powers, taught Winn to understand and control his abilities from an early age. It became a shared secret, a unique bond between mother and son.

As Winn entered school, Wanda juggled her superhero responsibilities with PTA meetings and school projects, ensuring he experienced the typical joys and challenges of childhood. She encouraged his interests, whether mundane or extraordinary, fostering an environment where he could embrace both sides of his heritage.

Winn's journey through adolescence brought moments of curiosity and self-discovery. Wanda, always there with guidance, watched as her son navigated the intricacies of friendships and identity. Through it all, she remained the constant, a pillar of strength and love in a world that sometimes felt too vast.

As Winn entered his teenage years, a shift occurred within him, marked by a growing turbulence in his emotions. The balance that once characterized his childhood began to tip, and a complex mix of anger, frustration, and a desire for control emerged. The charming child transformed into a young man marked by rudeness, aggression, and a penchant for violence.

Wanda, grappling with the challenge of guiding her son through this tumultuous phase, recognized the need for a different approach. She attempted to anchor him, to help him channel his powers and emotions in a more constructive manner. Yet, the scarlet threads that once wove a harmonious childhood now seemed frayed, strained by the intense forces within him.

The reasons behind Winn's transformation remained elusive – a combination of teenage angst, the weight of his powers, and perhaps the unresolved pain stemming from the loss of his father. The Scarlet Witch found herself caught in a delicate dance, trying to rein in the unleashed potential within her son while understanding the complexity of his journey.

Winn's aggression and dangerous tendencies became a challenge not only for himself but for those around him. The struggle to find a balance between the extraordinary gifts he inherited and the turbulent emotions of adolescence defined this phase of his life, leaving both mother and son navigating uncharted waters in an attempt to restore the threads of stability and harmony.

As the years unfolded, Wanda discovered the hidden layers beneath Winn's rough exterior. Despite his outward demeanor of rudeness and aggression, she unearthed a secret well of care and protectiveness within him. Winn, with an unspoken commitment to shielding those he cared about, particularly his mother, revealed a side that few had the chance to witness.

In private moments, his humor shone through, casting a light on a side of Winn that contrasted sharply with the aggressive facade he presented to the world. Wanda, realizing that his protective instincts were rooted in a deep love and concern, sought ways to nurture the positive aspects of his character while guiding him away from the darker expressions of his powers.

The dichotomy within Winn created a complex tapestry of emotions, where his caring nature clashed with the violence that often manifested in moments of perceived threat. The challenge for Wanda became not only understanding her son but also finding a way to channel his protective instincts in a manner that didn't compromise the safety of those around him.

Personality

Winn's personality is a paradoxical blend of intensity and vulnerability. The aggression and violence he occasionally exhibits serve as a protective armor, a manifestation of the internal conflicts he grapples with. Behind this tough exterior, he harbors a deep well of care and protectiveness, particularly towards his mother, Wanda.

His loyalty to those he considers family is unwavering, and he would go to great lengths to ensure their safety. The fine line he treads between expressing his love through protection and the potential dangers of his powers adds complexity to his relationships.

Winn's sense of humor, often hidden from the outside world, provides glimpses into a more lighthearted side. In moments of connection and trust, he lets this facet of his personality shine, revealing a capacity to find joy even in the midst of turmoil.

Powers

Winn's mastery of powers developed over years of training guided by his mother, Wanda. Through a combination of theoretical learning, practical exercises, and real-world experiences, he honed each ability, discovering the nuances of their applications and limitations. The journey was not without challenges, and the occasional struggles with his temper and violent tendencies added a layer of complexity to his training. Yet, over time, Winn learned to navigate the intricate web of his inherited powers, transforming them from untamed potential into controlled expressions of his Scarlet Witch heritage

Winn can alter and reshape reality to a certain extent, bending the TV fabric of existence to his will. He has the ability to project his consciousness or spirit outside of his physical body, exploring different planes of existence. Winn can restrain or immobilize others through metaphysical means, using his powers to create ethereal bonds. He possesses the ability to perceive events or gather information about distant or future events. He can generate powerful bursts of concussive energy, which he can project as offensive attacks. He is also attuned to the cosmic forces at play, providing him with heightened awareness of the universe. Winn can bring objects or constructs into existence through sheer force of will. He also has the power to erase or negate certain aspects of reality, removing elements from existence. Winn can defy gravity and move through the air without the need for physical support.

He can create protective barriers or shields to deflect attacks. Has the ability to manipulate and control machines and technology through supernatural means. Winn can accelerate the natural healing processes, either for himself or others. He has the power to enhance physical attributes, such as strength, speed, and agility. Winn can manipulate the powers of others, altering or controlling their supernatural abilities. Winn can instantaneously transport himself from one location to another. He can create openings or portals between different locations or dimensions. Winn can also travel between different dimensions. He also can transport objects or individuals to another location without physical presence. Winn can exile entities or beings to other realms or dimensions. And lastly he possesses the ability to communicate mentally with others, reading thoughts or projecting his own.

Hobbies

Winn's hobbies reflect a diverse range of interests, providing a glimpse into the layers of his personality beyond the realm of superpowers. Despite his complex powers and intense demeanor, he finds solace and joy in various pursuits.

Winn channels his creativity through art, whether it's painting, drawing, or other forms of artistic expression. It serves as a therapeutic outlet, allowing him to explore emotions and experiences in a tangible way.

Whether playing an instrument or curating playlists, music plays a significant role in Winn's life. It becomes a means of escape and emotional release, resonating with the different facets of his personality.

Winn finds refuge in the world of literature, exploring realms beyond the ordinary. Whether delving into mystical texts or escaping into fiction, reading provides him with a sense of adventure and intellectual stimulation.

Engaging in rigorous physical activities, such as martial arts or intense workouts, helps Winn channel his energy and maintain a sense of discipline. It also serves as a constructive outlet for the intensity that comes with his powers.

Despite his guarded exterior, Winn has a curious side that drives him to explore both mundane and extraordinary aspects of the world. Whether it's urban exploration or venturing into mystical realms, he seeks to understand the world around him.

Fueled by his ability for mechanical manipulation, Winn has a keen interest in technology. He enjoys tinkering with gadgets, staying updated on the latest advancements, and finding innovative solutions to challenges.

In contrast to his more intense pursuits, Winn finds joy in the simplicity of cooking. Experimenting with recipes and flavors allows him to unwind and share moments of connection with others.

Strengths and weaknesses

Strengths:

1. Mastery of Powers: Winn possesses a comprehensive mastery of a wide array of powers inherited from Wanda, including reality manipulation, teleportation, and telepathy.

2. Protective Instinct: His strong protective instincts, especially towards his loved ones, drive him to go to great lengths to ensure their safety.

3. Resilience: Winn's journey has instilled in him a remarkable resilience, allowing him to face challenges with determination and bounce back from setbacks.

4. Versatility: The diverse range of his hobbies and interests adds to his versatility, making him adaptable in different situations and environments.

5. Physical Prowess: Engaging in physical training has endowed him with enhanced physical attributes, contributing to his overall effectiveness in combat situations.

Weaknesses:

1. Temper and Aggression: Winn's tendency towards aggression, particularly in moments of heightened emotion, poses a challenge, leading to potential conflicts.

2. Protectiveness Leading to Violence: While protective, his inclination towards violence as a means of safeguarding loved ones can create moral and ethical dilemmas.

3. Complex Emotions: The internal conflicts arising from his heritage and the loss of his father contribute to complex emotional struggles, impacting his decision-making at times.

4. Struggle with Balance: Balancing the extraordinary nature of his powers with the desire for a normal life presents an ongoing challenge, with potential consequences for his personal relationships.

5. Isolation: Winn's internal struggles may lead to a sense of isolation, as he grapples with the burden of his powers and the potential dangers they pose to those around him.

~

Hope you guys like him!

@missstrawbs2001 @blueboirick @jackiequick @meiramel @mallowbee4

[barelynotsinking]

draft of start of fic of bly manor (jamie's death)

Jamie had grown old, haggard even, gone was her smooth skin and curling brown hair, now in the place of the young woman she had stood what Jamie would call “somebody’s gran”. Not that she had grandkids, lord knows she didn’t want any of her own, if she couldn’t have them with Dani, well, then she just wouldn’t have them at all. She did have Flora though, and Flora’s kids, and they gave her the last bit of love to keep going. Her youth had long since left her, her skin no longer stuck to her bones and hung from them in sacks, her hair had turned gray and brittle, her hands thin and veiny, she had taken on a shocking pale, it was as if you could see right through her, bones, muscles and all. She had lived through the stages from taking care of others, to others taking care of her, she often chuckled at it, born dependent and die dependent only a brief period of responsibility sandwiched between the two, and then, inevitably, death. It’s a nice place to die, she had thought, when she first laid eyes on the house, and it was, a quiet neighborhood, it had a porch and a lawn, a nice back yard and flowerbeds, exactly the kind of place were one could drift off from life, in a rocking chair at dawn, listening to the song of the morning birds. 

Of course, the sight would be well displayed from the chair’s position on the front porch, but at least the neighborhood would know for sure she was gone, she had lived there so long, the children had begun to think she would never die. They called her mother gothel, because of her blooming garden, and her remarkable sturdiness even though it appeared as if she could be knocked over by a light breeze. This was false, as marked by the concussion she administered to an unfortunate cat burglar who had crawled through her window last may, thinking it was an easy mark. It was not. but Jamie took extra care to lock her windows now. It was rumored she buried him under the garden to use him as fertilizer for her plants, which were also magical, of course, they were what gave her her extraordinary strength, or at least according to Steven Anders, but he was nine, which made his story unlikely. Her accent didn’t help, out in rural Georgia, her Northern lilt only served as proof to the young'uns that she possessed otherworldly abilities. Every so often a child would have the courage to approach her front porch, and once in a blue moon, they even had the bravery to ring the bell, and every time they asked the same thing “are you a witch?” and every time she would reply, with an earnesty more genuine then they could know “I wish”. It was only the Wingrave children who knew her for who she was, simply a batty old lady, a kind and broken soul, with an affinity for cursing, moonflowers, and the occasional chocolate chip cookie.

 It started when Flora had her first, Henry, it was as if Jamie always knew what to do, Flora didn’t know how she did it, Jamie had never had any kids of her own, but the older woman seemed to always know when it was a diaper that needed changing or a burp that needed burping, or any of the other twenty thing a baby asks for in a wail. The Wingraves were a handsome couple, the pillars of the community, Flora and Scott were both active members of the PTA and from the moment each child was born they doted on them with more love then one thought was possible, the other parents shook their head in awe  at their “wonder parenting” but really it was their mysterious and somewhat grouchy neighbor who helped carry the burden of parenthood and raise their three children. They joked Jamie was why they moved there, they moved to start a family and God knew it would be impossible without her. Of course they were a bit taken aback running into the stranger from the funeral, but as they got to know the woman better, they realized that incident was simply just the kind of thing Jamie would do.

So there, in Eston Georgia, at 9:15 in the morning, Jamie drifted off for the last. Thankfully not on the front porch, she died where she lived, in the green house, sat in her favorite chair, at her favorite table. It was Scott who found her, slumped over the moonflower she had been tending to.  He had come round to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner. He didn’t even have to tell his wife what had happened, it was as if she had read his mind as soon as he stepped through the door. Flora took care of all the arraignments, the funeral, the reception, the headstone, and she did it all with the utmost care. It made sense, they were the last family they knew she had. It was a small funeral but it seemed as if the whole town came, the number of strangers making the crowd seem large and foreboding, they came to make sure, see the last resting place of the famed mother gothel, because they thought she would never die. Only the Wingraves, standing in the front row were there to mourn Jamie, and perhaps it was better that way, a special pain for them to remember, the woman across the street who they both knew and didn’t at all. 

[balbhartipublicschool]

THE SYNERGY WITH OUR PARENT BODY

Bal Bharati Group of Schools- Nurturing Brilliance Through Parental Synergy

"The education and empowerment of parents is an indispensable tool for fostering the success of children." - Craig Ramey

In the vast realm of education, where the destinies of tomorrow take shape, parents and teachers stand as formidable pillars of influence. However, at Bal Bharati Group of Schools, these roles converge to create exceptional synergy, transcending the conventional boundaries of education to foster brilliance. At the heart of this synergy lies the Child Education Society’s unwavering commitment to nurture a formidable character and intellect. The pursuit of holistic growth is our guiding star, with educators donning the mantle of mentors, guiding students beyond textbooks. Transparent communication channels among teachers, students, and parents ensure that each child's unique needs are met with meticulous care. At Bal Bharati schools, one of the top 10 CBSE schools in Delhi, Parents, as essential stakeholders, play an instrumental role in this educational partnership. Regular parent-teacher meetings serve as vibrant platforms for constructive dialogues and invaluable feedback, fostering a profound sense of shared responsibility. This engagement empowers parents with profound insights into their child's academic and personal growth, while also allowing teachers to tailor their approaches effectively. BBPS, one of the top 10 CBSE schools in Delhi, besides championing holistic development extends the boundaries of education beyond the classroom. Parents actively participate in co-curricular pursuits, bolstering their child's self-esteem and character. The venerated institution has effectively bridged the gap between academia and society, instilling a profound sense of social responsibility in students through community service projects and awareness campaigns, with parents actively engaged in the noble cause. Parent community plays a pivotal role in reinforcing the core values and ethos of integrity, empathy, and compassion.

In an age defined by technology, Bal Bharati Group of Schools, under the aegis of the Child Education Society, has ardently embraced innovation with the unwavering support of parent fraternity. Cutting-edge technology and contemporary teaching methodologies prepare students for the digital age, with parents actively encouraging their children's technological education. The school's commitment to holistic development extends beyond academics, with parents actively participating in events such as the Winter Carnival, Annual Day, Sports Meet, Teachers' Day, the Investiture Ceremony, and English Play. Their whole hearted presence and active engagement infuses these occasions with vibrancy and enthusiasm, showcasing their unflinching dedication.

BBPS group of schools go the extra mile by organizing career counselling workshops where parents are actively invited to participate. They are also invited to judge inter-school events, amplifying their role in the school's vibrancy. The institutions celebrate Grandparents' Day, a heartwarming gesture to pay homage to all stakeholders who contribute to the legacy of Bal Bharati schools. Being one of the best private schools in Delhi, Bal Bharati schools foster fair PTA elections and actively solicit parents' suggestions on various themes through the "Let's Have a Conversation" initiative.

[kerink]

dundeelemonade

I KNOOOWWWW i am just like. you know. sending vibes across time and space. hoping that he gets a clue and he can start figuring shit out sooner than later. au where he gets an inkling of how this place works a little bit faster and he gets over himself and he. and martin, martin he’s. he’s happy. keri, au where martin finds a niche for himself without all the pain and heartbreak and miscommunication. now i know that one of the tenets of the wtse au is that martin doesn’t get what he wants but i just think he could have fun running a thrift shop or smth, and being passive aggressively polite at people who dare try to shop there. britishly bitchy, in a way that brings him satisfaction, and he can come home at the end of the day feeling like he’s got a full life, instead of being dependent on jon & co to be the structure he builds his life around. idk i just love him and i am depraved enough to want to give him nice things, even just theoretically.

dee i am going to 🅱️ite you

between martin and jon, martins the one who ends up with a satisfying life. he's the one who heals and grows and changes the most. he's the one who controls his own destiny.

martin gets a job first, sure it's at carlos' lab, but he gets that job because of his knowledge and expertise. he becomes an adjunct scientist and is able to understand night vale's strangeness in ways that the other scientists can't because they have no foundation or frame of reference to work off of. to them, night vale is Strange and that's it. but martin knows this strangeness, he's familiar with this strangeness. and he is missed after he leaves because he is valuable, immensely valuable. and it's so corrective for him, to have a job where he's important and respected and he gets to tell people much more qualified than him that they're wrong and then he gets to quit

martin makes friends first. real actual friends, not the weird thing jon and cecil have going on where they connect through the hallways of the beholding's library and think each other's thoughts and feel each other's feelings. he makes friends the awkward and stilted and excited and anxious way real people do. he has his own calendar and does things the other's don't know about and has stories to tell at dinner.

martin understands night vale first. he refuses to be an unwitting victim again, he refuses to be a pawn again, he refuses to blindly trust jon again. he knows now that jon is the archivist before he's anything else. he's omniscient and thinks he knows best and will try to control everyone and everything. and he's not a bad person martin knows that, but, well. he needs to have a handle on his own shit. he needs to have independence. he can't just sit around the office filing paper and fetching tea. hes the man who walked through hell and murdered god. he wants to carry that power with him forever, cultivate it, nurture it. he wants that to be true. so he walks night vales streets and literally maps everything out. he tries to leave, over and over and over. he listens to NVCR until cecil's cryptic doublespeak makes sense.

martin grows first. he has to brave night vale and tolerate his interloper status. he walks the side walk, smoking but visible, corporal, there, because he won't be shut away again. part of being truly seen is risking being rejected and he knows he has to become okay with that. he knows that if he doesn't risk the mortifying ordeal of being known then he will end up being Lonely again. so he goes out and shows up over and over and over. he visits every shop, he (desperately) tries every tea, he goes to the grocery just to try to figure out what here is actually food. he brute forces his way into the community, hammering against his own desire to disappear and his need to make this new life work until he finally breaks through as a pillar of the community.

martin who formed his own bowling league, martin who's an active member of the PTA, martin who gets an authorship credit on the research papers coming out of carlos' lab, martin who has boys nights at big rico's speak easy, martin who gets car sick so he has to learn to drive

whenever benny and i talk about jon traveling through the doors, whether its the old oak ones to desert bluffs too or helen's, martin's always the door stop.

martin's not just a pillar of the community but he's the pillar of the family. he's jon's anchor, as he explores what it means to be a person, even if he's no longer human. he's cecil support person, as he begins to gain comfort in stories about his childhood, and how what his mother did to him changed him so irreversibly. he's carlos light house, keeping him firmly grounded in humanity as he keeps running away with night vale's madness.

and martin can be all of these things for them because in the first few months of them being here, martin took a good long look at himself and said "what is the life you want to have" and he did everything in his power to become the man he wants to be

[amour393]

shoutout to cathy, tireless mother of four, pillar of the PTA, and returning contestant

[pink-flame]

Like You Could Love Me

So...the Angry Flower Squad was making me SO soft over gifs and @mamirugbee wanted porch fluff with kissing and I remembered that @thedeathdeelers and @missjoolee liked my idea of using this post as a Juke prompt and here we are. I wrote this from 12-2am so it’s quite possibly incoherent and I’m not checking for mistakes until tomorrow so take it for what it is, a late night labor of love. Enjoy! 💜

Julie hadn’t slept for almost 48 hours. 

Her school was hosting a Los Feliz High After Dark event for the lower grades who didn’t get to attend prom. It was pitched as being just as exciting as the dance but in practice was known to be little more than a glorified sleepover in the school gym with PTA members for chaperones. Flynn had been determined that that year would be different, and had talked Julie into joining her on the planning committee. 

The good news was that Flynn had a real flair for party planning and decorating when she was actually invested (see the difference between the dance they tried to forget and the way she had helped Julie’s dad throw together an epic garage party in less than 24 hours). So by the time Julie and Flynn and the other volunteers were done the gym was fully immersed in a carnival theme full of cute booths filled with potential activities and cute backgrounds to take pictures in front of. It was definitely an improvement over the year before which had been an under the sea theme which had consisted mostly of a few blue streamers and Mr. Weaver walking around in an inflatable Nemo costume. 

The bad news was that it had taken a lot longer than they had anticipated and they hadn’t fallen into bed the night before the event until close to 2am. Julie hadn’t been able to sleep even after she slipped into bed next to Flynn and heard her best friend start making the small whistling noises that indicated she was out cold. Julie had been kept up with thoughts of what her bandmates were up to without her and if they had lingered a little longer on what Luke in particular was doing right then, well that wasn’t that surprising. 

She loved Alex and Reggie but neither of them had attempted to hold her hand and remarked on their “interesting little relationship” or suddenly developed the ability to touch her and instinctively joined her in reaching out to gently cradle the other’s face. 

No, Luke was different, not that she wanted to say that in front of him unless she was sure he felt the same overwhelming feelings she did Oddly enough she was much more concerned about the possibility that he didn’t than she was about the fact that he was still..well, a ghost. It wasn’t that she was unaware that his ghostly status could lead to heartache for her later on, of course she was. It just didn’t seem so important suddenly. After what had happened with her mom, what had almost happened with the guys only a couple of months ago...anything could happen at any time. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed anyway so why deny herself happiness now if she could have it? If she could have it. Because that was still the question. 

Because Luke obviously liked her but did he like her? That sounded so juvenile but to call it anything else...well, that was really scary. Evil ghosts and the looming possibility of their return had nothing on the insecurity that came with not knowing exactly how the boy you lo...liked felt about you. 

So Julie didn’t get much sleep that night, Flynn’s alarm seeming to go off only moments after she finally drifted off. She had dragged through school that day, trying to match Flynn’s excitement for the night’s upcoming festivities though her own enthusiasm had quickly drained out of her altogether along with her energy. In the end it had been as fun a night as it could be with Julie spending most of it in a semi-exhausted haze. She and Flynn had played some of the games they had set up, and danced to the music they both agreed would have been better if it had been either DJ’d by Flynn or performed by Julie’s band, and when Carrie had sneered something about how tacky the theme was even that had been half hearted and without any real bite. 

So it was a pretty good night all things considered and Julie was in a good mood despite her complete exhaustion by the time Flynn’s mom dropped her off early the next morning. Ok, so maybe part of her good mood was actually because of her exhausted state by that point as she found herself feeling giddy and her mind had gone sort of pleasantly fuzzy. That was her excuse for how she found herself half-skipping up the path towards her front door, singing to herself. 

We create...perfect harmony 

“Somebody had a good time.” 

Julie’s head snapped up to take in the figure of the boy who leaned against the pillar of the porch in front of her, a small smile bordering on a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Luke.

What was he doing there? 

Was he waiting for her?

She had to play it cool. 

She had to be normal. 

She had to not give away all the feelings that had been swirling around inside of her for the last couple of months since they first gained the ability to touch each other whenever they wanted and promptly both became too awkward to touch each other at all. 

She had to…

“I missed you,” She blurted. 

One of Julie’s hands flew up to cover her mouth as she took the last few steps up onto the porch, trying and failing to ignore the way Luke’s eyes widened even as that vaguely infuriating smirk grew larger. 

“I didn’t mean that,” She insisted once her hand had dropped back to her side. “I mean...I didn’t not mean it but...I just meant it would have been fun if you could have come. Any of you. All of you. Um...yeah.” 

Luke let her dig herself deeper, waiting until her stream of words had come to a complete stop. When they finally dried up he pushed off of the pillar with one of his signature little bounces, letting his momentum carry him to within a step of where she stood awkwardly on the porch. 

“Did someone spike the punch at this dance?” He asked her, amusement clear in his tone. 

Julie shook her head a little too fiercely, indignant despite the fact that she couldn’t exactly blame him for suspecting that she was drunk. 

She felt a little drunk. 

Not that she knew what it was like to be drunk but she was pretty sure it was similar to this. 

Not the point. 

“It wasn’t a dance it was a school sanctioned slumber party,” She corrected, focusing all of her energy on not slurring her words or otherwise embarrassing herself. “And nobody spiked anything. And actually nobody drinks punch anymore. Just so you know.” 

Luke held up both hands as though he were surrendering but that smirk of his was impossible to deny at this point, a fact that both made Julie incredibly irritated and simultaneously fighting the urge to lean up and kiss it right off his stupid face. 

Ok, that was not helpful. 

“Not a dance, no punch. Got it,” Luke said, his voice just soft enough to keep her annoyance more or less at bay. 

“Why are you out here anyway?” 

Julie hadn’t meant to ask that but it felt like any filter her brain generally had was long gone at this point. 

Luke tilted his head slightly and reached up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“Oh, you know, just taking in the view.” 

Julie frowned skeptically. 

“Taking in the view?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, gesturing out at the plant filled yard. “Just communing with nature you know? Honestly, I forgot you were even out last night.” 

“Oh.” 

Julie dipped her head a little so she didn’t have to look directly at Luke as disappointment rushed through her. She was pretty sure she was too tired to keep the evidence of that emotion from being completely visible. She was so frustrated with herself for caring at all. He wasn’t her boyfriend after all. Why would be be waiting for her?

“Julie.” 

She reluctantly raised her head to meet Luke’s gaze which was fixed insistently on her. His smirk had fallen away leaving behind a look at once more open and somehow harder to read at the same time. 

“I’m kidding,” He told her as he took a half-step closer to her, so close that she had to tilt her head up further to maintain eye contact. “I was waiting for you.” 

“Oh,” She said again, very aware that she seemed to have lost the ability to say anything else. 

She reached deep down inside and mustered up the strength to pull out one further word. 

“Why?” 

His eyes somehow managed to soften even more and his voice was oddly breathy when he answered. 

“Because I missed you too.” 

And Julie knew that the most prudent thing to do was tuck that phrase away as something warm, and happy and precious to examine more closely when she had slept and had the mental prowess to actually determine what it meant for their interesting little relationship. 

She knew that. 

But she was exhausted not only from lack of sleep but from months spent questioning where they stood. She was happy to hear him say that he had missed her, of course she was. But she also found herself feeling strangely...angry. 

How dare he look at her with those big soft eyes and stare at her like that if he wasn’t ever planning on actually putting her out of her misery by telling her how he felt or didn’t feel?

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” The words burst out of her without her permission. 

Luke was clearly taken aback by her words, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know,’ She hesitated, just enough awareness seeping back in to make her realize what a truly stupid thing she was about to say. “Like you could love me.” 

She watched as a whole range of emotions rushed over his face too quickly for her to decipher exactly what all of them were. 

“Julie…” 

“Forget I said anything,” Julie interrupted, turning towards the front door with every intention to flee the situation. “I’m just really tired.” 

“Julie!” 

He said her name more forcefully that time and she froze. She didn’t turn back to face him though, the pounding in her chest and the heat spreading across her face giving her all the incentive she needed to keep her head facing away. 

Luke wasn’t having any of that though. 

He reached out to gently tug her back towards him, one hand settling on her cheek while the other rested on her waist. 

If she hadn’t been blushing before she certainly was now. 

“Do you not want me to look at you like that because...because you don’t feel the same?” 

Luke’s voice shook a little as he gave voice to that question, his thumb seeming to stroke across her cheek without his permission. 

Julie was reeling, everything feeling surreal and dreamlike anyway because of her lack of sleep but when combined with Luke’s gentle actions it felt more and more unreal. She couldn’t help but remember the last time he had touched her face, how they had clutched at each other thinking it was the only chance they would ever have. Now they had new chances every day and they had been wasting them. 

Why had they been wasting them?

“Wait...feel the same as what? Feel the same as who?” She asked as her brain finally caught up with what he had actually said. 

He visibly swallowed and she took some comfort in the fact that apparently he was nervous too. 

“The same as I feel,” He paused. “About you. I...I love you, Julie. And if that makes you uncomfortable I never have to say it again, ok? But it’s how I feel and I just wanted to say it. Once or whatever.” 

“But…” Julie felt a giggle rising up inside of her as exhaustion and the pure absurdity of the moment settled in. “But I love you too.” 

Luke’s thumb froze on her face as his eyes lit up with something close to hope. 

“You do?” 

Julie nodded, the giggle finally bursting out of her only to be met with a grin from Luke so radiant she wished she could capture it in a photo to look at later. 

“You love me,” Luke said again as though he needed to confirm beyond any shadow of doubt. 

“I love you,” Julie repeated agreeably. “And you love me?” 

Luke nodded, bouncing a little on his heels as he somehow managed to step even more into her space. 

“I love you.” 

“Well…” Julie sighed happily. “Well, that’s great then.” 

Luke let out a bark of laughter that probably would have been loud enough to bring her dad to the porch if anyone but her had been able to hear it. 

Before she had time to remark on how obnoxiously loud he could be he was crowding her back until she bumped into the pillar he had been leaning against when she got home. The moment her back made contact with its firm surface he was bringing his other hand up until he was cupping both of her cheeks. She barely had time to adjust to that very much welcome sensation before he was lowering his head and aligning his lips with hers, pressing them together in a chaste peck that was still enough to send her heart racing. He started to pull back as if to gauge her reaction but she was having none of that. She had been waiting for this for so long and as previously established she had absolutely none of her usual ability to deny herself what she wanted. 

And what she wanted was her hands on Luke Patterson right then. 

She reached up and latched one hand on the back of his neck and the other threaded deep into his hair giving it a little tug just because she could. She had been wanting to touch him so badly ever since that night in the garage when she’d almost lost him and she’d been wanting to touch his dumb, messy hair ever since “I’m Luke by the way”. So she did. 

He let out a little pleased sound that was cut off when she stretched up to press her mouth back to his, this time with twice as much force and no intention of separating anytime soon. To his credit he took the hint pretty fast, his hands dropping from her face to wrap around her waist tugging her body to press against his as he moved his lips insistently against hers. And wow...that was something, the sensation of almost all of her pressed up against almost all of him. 

He wasn’t warm, not exactly, but he wasn’t cold either like she had feared he would be. It was more like his body was mirroring back exactly her own temperature, leaving it hard to determine where one of them began and the other ended when her eyes were closed as they currently were. 

Or maybe that was just them. 

Maybe it was like that quote she always saw floating around online about souls being made of the same stuff. 

When she was well rested and thinking rationally she had always rolled her eyes a bit at stuff like that but now...she was beginning to see the appeal. 

Julie massaged absentmindedly at the back of his neck as she drew his lower lip into her mouth, the sound he made in response enough to have her pulling back with a giggle. 

“Come back here,” He mumbled, his lips chasing hers even as she turned her face away leaving him to press soft, wet kisses to her cheek. 

“Now you sound drunk,” She told him, turning back to face him and looping both arms around his shoulders. “My dad will be up soon and I have no idea how I’d explain...this...when he can’t even see you.” 

Luke groaned as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m right,” Julie echoed. 

It was true but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. 

They stayed like that for another minute or so, just enjoying being this close to each other with nothing to hide. They might have stayed like that longer but Julie suddenly let out a yawn she couldn’t contain directly into Luke’s face. 

Luke pulled back sharply but the soft smile that seemed to always be reserved just for her remained in place. 

“You need to get some sleep,” He told her firmly. 

She wanted to argue but all that came out was another yawn. 

Ok, so there was no arguing with that. 

“Goodnight,” She told him, suddenly feeling shy as she backed towards the front door wanting to keep him in her sight just a little longer. 

Luke gestured around them to the soft light spilling around her yard. 

“Good morning,” He corrected with a grin. 

Never one to let him have the last word, certainly not when she was too tired to be embarrassed, Julie leapt forward to press one final lingering kiss on his lips, retreating before he could do more than return the pressure.

Julie backed towards the front door, the grin now firmly on her face and a rather dumbstruck one adorning his. 

“Band practice later,” She reminded him. “Don’t be late.” 

Then she slipped into the house and up to her bed, incredibly tired and pretty sure of exactly  what she would be dreaming of. 

[justhaletwinsthings]

forever bitter that we never got to explore those sweet, sweet cullen family dynamics because smeyer was too busy contriving love triangle based relationship drama

like, consider:

silent civil wars between alice and edward over who has to tell carsilse that if they go into school today someone's probably gonna get fuckin eaten 

also that emmett is planning on bringing a pet bear home from their next hunt and neither of them wants to be the one to have to deal with that

emmett bringing esme flowers whenever he can because he knows she likes them and also the bright colours and soft scents really remind him of her (also of his human mother but he keeps that part to himself)

the kids visiting dr. cullen at work which is sweet in principle but also terrible bc it's usually less 'hi dad, how are you? lovely to see you :)' and more 'if you don't make jasper stop what he's doing right fucking now i'm going to bury him in the front yard'. the rest of the hospital staff take bets on who will show up next and pissed off about what. it honestly does more to humanise them than any weird ass overly perfect family appearances ever could.

rosalie looking edward dead in the eye and mentally insulting him for, like, three straight hours whenever they're out in public together just watching him get more and more pissed off bc he can't even SAY anything to her without looking like a goddamn lunatic so he just,, has to fuckin deal with it

also if he snaps and talks back emmett owes her like $500 and like HELL is he giving her the satisfaction of making money off him

esme showing up to pta meetings and community bake sales like the goddamn pillar of the community she is and being told how nice and well mannered her kids are and just like. flashing back to rose putting edward through a wall bc he made a snide comment about her sex life and staring off into the middle distance like some kind of ex-prisoner of war

also i'm sorry, but look me in the eyes and tell me that jasper and emmett don't bully the shit out of edward and i'll call you a goddman liar.

it isn't like. malicious or anything. he just,, makes it so easy. he's all broody and dramatic and honestly it would be a crime NOT to mock that. emmett follows him around quoting emo poetry and draping himself dramatically over furniture and edward is Not Having It. it usually ends in some kind of fist fight in the woods at the back of the house. edward is a vicious little bastard with absolutely no qualms about going for the throat. emmett picks him up and swings him around like a fuckin baseball bat.   somehow jasper still wins.

alice and emmett go on a lot of road trips together by virtue of being the Fun Ones(TM). they have a tendency of just up and leaving at random in the dead of night and then sending the fam a text a week later like 'wrestling gators down in florida. having fun. be back soon xoxox'.

sometimes they go to vegas just to see how much alice can make in a night before they get kicked out. a lot, as it turns out. the day they get blacklisted is a tragic one all around

jasper and rosalie, on the other hand, bond by going out into the middle of nowhere and letting out their repressed rage by beating the shit out of each other

it's two very different approaches

beating the shit out of each other is actually a tried and true cullen family tradition. brother won't stop sharing the private details of your personal life? find out who’s in the right by beating the shit out of each other. sister keeps telling everyone they should just fucking murder your girlfriend? prove that she’s wrong by beating the shit out of each other. it's a tried and true method of conflict resolution.

most of the fam will let an issue go for the most part after the Requisite Beating has been doled out. especially since most of their arguments are actually pretty petty edward and rosalie, on the other hand, hold grudges. it’s a long standing issue and also why the two of them and have the most antagonistic relationship in the family. pretty much everyone else but carlisle Stays The Fuck Out Of It.

alice steals edward’s room in literally every house they’ve lived in since the first. at first it was just a joke but then he started trying to throw her off by constantly changing his mind about which room he wanted and now it’s Personal. he fools her once. it never happens again.

there’s a bit of a weird hierarchy in the family, because like, jasper is the Oldest Child but edward is the First Son and it was kind of hard for them to figure out where they stood with each other at first. edward seems to get his way most of the time bc he’s definitely carlisle and esme’s favourite but that’s partly bc jasper usually doesn’t care enough to interfere. but when he does you can bet your ass things are gonna go his way bc he could snap edward like a fucking twig.

also what jasper wants is usually what alice wants and if there’s anyone capable of pulling a fast one over on edward it’s her. basically my point is that jasper is the Alpha Brother(TM)

meanwhile emmett’s just happy to be here

rosalie and esme actually have quite a good relationship, even if it’s a quiet sort of thing. the time they spend together is mostly marked by companionable silence while esme knits or cleans and rosalie reads but they both consider it time well spent. there’s a lot of unspoken affection there. like rosalie doesn’t need a second mother, especially not one barely any older than her, and she’s always been bad at connecting with other women... but if she has to have one she’s glad it’s esme

[alch3mic]

This might be a little bit too far in the future, but how are Huntsman, Beast, Prince, and Captain as fathers?

huntsman would be a very affectionate and playful dad. the kind who likes to tease his kids with plenty of corny dad jokes that would make anyone groan but will always be there for them to help with science projects or to give his own fatherly wisdom. just like with you he’ll be very protective of them though on the downlow and will be throwing down with plenty of pta moms if they so much as even look at his kids funny!

beast he is the proudest dad you could ever imagine. the kind who brags about his children at any given opportunity and has a wallet full of photos he’s taken of his s/o and children together so he can show them off to everyone and gush about them. he’s the biggest softie for his kids and just completely spoils them rotten, and they’re his motivation to work even harder than before so he can support them.

prince another very proud father! he’d be so incredibly encouraging and supportive of his kids, especially about their interests and hobbies, like the cool dad everyone wished they had. he’ll always be very present to spoil them by giving them the best of what life has to offer and bury them in his praises! he’ll be a little clingy with them but he just can’t help it he’d love them so much!

captain and now here comes the stern dad. he’d think the world of his kids, which is exactly why he’d be a little tough on them. the kind of dad who wants you to shoot for the stars because he knows your potential, but will always be there for them when they stumble too. he’ll always be a firm pillar for them to lean on as he continues to set them up for success (and dote on them all the time).

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

We’re Not Friends 05

Might As Well

Beth signed up for the academic decathlon. She had the grades and the time to make that an easy bet while decorating her transcript, and she wanted to be able to engage in the mental stimulation it was sure to present. She signed up for the student council, since she did care about the needs of her fellow students and wanted to be involved. She also wanted to be active in PTA business, as her parents had been members since she started school, but they already let her know that for high school, they would not be available for that.

She wasn't really officially able to be a member of the PTA, so, in her excitement to work closely with them, she sought out trying to organize a Student Teacher group.

"Cindy! Hi, Cindy… You probably don't remember me from…"

Cindy groaned, "I can't believe that you would ever think I'd speak to you."

"You're in student council with me, so I thought maybe you were willing to…"

"Get lost, loser." Beth quickly turned on the balls of her feet as Jenny cackled and Cindy Burman folded her arms.

"Oh! Yolanda! Yolanda Montez…" the girl smiled awkwardly as Beth advanced on her, holding a clipboard. "I'm trying to gather support for an up and coming student group to connect with and appreciate our teachers…"

"Sounds great, Beth. Good job!" Yolanda said, patted her on the shoulder, and quickly rushed away. Beth sighed.

"Artemis…" Beth started and whenever the girl faced her, she froze in place. She didn't remember Artemis being so scary. "Hi. I'm. Putting together a group of students to appreciate our teachers, and I was thinking since you have a parent on staff, you might be interested?"

"No. Sounds stupid."

Beth scoffed, "It's literally being created to organize observances and fortify a culture of respecting our teachers and giving back to them."

"Everybody respects my mom. They don't have a choice. No further work needed. Later, Chapel." Beth felt defeated as she had to hear different variations of "no," from those who responded to her at all. Even Joey (though apologetically) had to turn her down because he didn't have time to commit to any more projects.

She sank into her seat as Isaac Bowin, who'd been right behind her slid into his seat, in front of her. She gasped and he turned suddenly, startled by the noise, "Isaac! You're perfect!" She said.

He looked embarrassed and confused. She shook her head and waved her hands, "Sorry, sorry. That came out differently than planned." Beth leaned towards him and explained, "I am TRYING to get people to join forces with me to build a foundation of appreciation for the teachers at our school…"

"Wait… you want me to be in a group with you?"

"Yes."

"For teacher appreciation?"

"Yes."

"Who else has agreed to this?"

"Currently, just us…"

"No."

"But.."

"Beth." She shut her mouth to let him explain. "I have enough trouble being the principal's kid. I'm not starting an alliance with the queen of the teachers' pets on top of that. Sorry."

She sighed. "If it makes you feel better, I'll put in a good word with my mom for your club."

She smiled, "That does make me feel better about all of the hours of rejection I've gotten today. You're a real one, Isaac!"

He blushed and turned around to get prepared for class.

.

"She's a very nice girl, great GPA, and parents who are pillars of the community. That's the type of girl I'll expect you to bring home when you're old enough to start thinking about girls," Anaya Bowin said.

"Mom!" Isaac whined. He thought about girls ALREADY. And Beth was definitely one of those girls. She was one of very few who were nice to him and she was super pretty too.. "I'm just keeping an agreement to pass on the word about what she's trying to do. I don't think anybody will sign up. She's got less friends than me."

"Are you two friends?"

He shook his head, "We're… friendly. We take some classes together."

"Well… You don't need friends, anyway. You're a musical genius and I'm sure none of these children can appreciate your gift for what it is." He blushed. "But, I do like Beth, so I'll let her form her group, even if she can't get anyone's participation. Maybe let her do things with some of the other organizations, so it's not just a photo taking up space in the yearbook."

.

Beth was pretty cheerful whenever she reached the cafeteria. She paused when she saw Rick. She hadn't seen him since the incident in art class, and even though she heard he'd gotten suspended for a few days, she didn't see him after that either. So, she wasn't prepared for the plunge her stomach took when she noticed him at the table with a bag of chips and a pint of milk.

"You're back," she said. He kept eating. She frowned and sat down. "Sorry that somebody thought I was your girlfriend. I've been trying to tell people that's not true, but nobody listens to me." He didn't respond or react to any of that. "Just like you're not listening to me.." she began eating. "I started a club. It's just me, but it got approved as an official school club. The student teacher appreciation club."

He snorted and she looked at him. He recovered quickly and proceeded to purposefully ignore her. Okay. This is how it was. She wouldn't bother him. It would only ruin her good day.

Rick watched her eat for a moment, then stared as she scrolled her phone. He almost wanted to do something to gain her attention back, despite being the one to shut her down whenever she did pay him attention. He couldn't explain it, but even though he hated attention, he still wanted her to give him some. The fact that she wasn't was irritating him.

She was done with her lunch and waiting until it was almost over to collect her things, but Rick snatched her trash from the table, took it with his own and when she stared at him utterly perplexed, he looked at her as though she was a problem, then left the cafeteria. "What. Even?"

Boys made no sense! She brushed it off as more Rick Harris VS the World stuff and didn't let it get to her.

Besides, they functioned whenever she kept her worries to a minimum. She may or may not speak, depending on how he looked whenever he got to the table. She may or may not smile at him whenever he looked at her, depending on his reaction whenever she spoke, if she spoke. And they didn't bother to have any conversations, though whenever things happened in the cafeteria, they reflexively looked at each other, being the only ones at the table.

Like one day, Henry King got a kid to snort pudding and they gave each other grossed out glances. Rick shook his head and Beth placed her hand over her throat as they turned back to the shenanigans in time enough to see Henry's friend squeeze the cup and get pudding all over his face.

Or the time that a bird somehow got into the building and pooped on Jenny Williams tray. Rick and Beth both laughed, though Beth tried not to and kept apologizing, despite the fact that Jenny couldn't hear her. Sometimes, they left the cafeteria at the same and he walked right beside or right behind her. For those moments, Beth imagined that they were friends. She STILL didn't fully get why they weren't at this point, beyond the simple fact that Rick, while different from every other person in this school, and maybe Blue Valley at large… he still wasn't interested in being friends with a loser like her.

She parted ways with him that day, still smiling uncontrollably about Jenny's misfortune. She felt a little guilty, but also like justice had been served. She'd accidentally called out, "Bye, Rick!" And no less than three other boys imitated her, exaggerated a flirtatious tone and laughed. Rick threw them glares and they piped down, but Beth was relatively sure that Rick most likely hated that she'd caused this. She groaned at the backtrack that probably gave them.

.

Rick wandered the hallways up until the bell rung and walked into his class. The teacher let him go to regular lunch today, since he didn't "even seem like he belonged in the abnormal behavior unit," and, she was also going to speak with the principal about putting him back into regular classes.

He was actually pretty chill with this set up though. He'd help out with the other kids (to his teacher's surprise) and he at least went through the motions of doing his work, before sketching for the rest of the day or looking up car information on the computer in the room. He didn't have a computer at home, and the hand me down phone he got from his uncle with Matt's last upgrade was used mostly for the few calls he made and light browsing.

The other kids in the AB unit went to lunch together and sat together. It was fine, he guessed. He asked if he could go to lunch like he used to and after coming through on his part of a deal not to cause any trouble, he could again.

The days that he wasn't there, he wondered how Beth was fairing. He wondered if she thought he was an idiot for getting into a scuffle in art class with the Prince of Blue Valley. He wondered if she thought he was a brute for trying to look macho in front of her. He wondered if she thought he was trash like everybody else did.

On the flip side, he wondered if she knew that he was trying not to overreact that day. He wondered if, maybe, just maybe… with all of her intellect, she was smart enough to realize that he had very little self control. That it was inevitable he'd be put out of that class because he knew the teacher hated him and that he still couldn't keep himself from being territorial whenever the woman tried to remove him. He wondered if she missed having him there.. just as a presence.

He rolled his eyes at himself. Your presence is a totally different presence than hers. Of course you miss her. She's warm and cheerful. You're the opposite. Why would she miss you?

When he returned to lunch with her, he could tell by her face that she was happy to see him. The bubbles in her voice when she said, "You're back!" Made his heart speed up and his belly twirl. So, he decided not to answer. Not to make anything obvious while he collected himself. It didn't take long for him to miss that warmth.

You can't have it both ways. He knew that. He wished that knowing that could steer his behavior. Because the last thing he wanted to do was look like that in front of her… or come across as ride or mean when she was trying to be nice… or whatever it was he had been doing.

But, it was hard. Why would he let her or anyone else for that matter get close to him KNOWING the as soon as he had the power and opportunity, he would flee so far from this place? Why would he make friends when he knew that whatever was inside of him would only eventually push them away? Why let himself have feelings for somebody when he knew that in the long-run, he would only bring her pain?

"Yo, Harris!" Some kid called as he was about to head back into class. He eyed him. He didn't know that dude. He started to enter the room and the guy was close and asked in a low voice, "Are you selling anything? I've got a party tonight and…"

"I don't," Rick said and went into the class frustrated. People presumed things about him a lot, because of his temper or because of his uncle. But, he wasn't a drug dealer, and wasn't sure why anybody with any sense would think that he could be, when clearly he didn't have money. Have they never seen any piece of media ever with a dealer in it? They had wads of cash and bought fine things for themselves. Rick could barely buy lunch. Idiots.

After school, the same kid showed up, walking beside him. "Dude, if you don't go the hell away.."

"I get it. I get it. You think I might be a narc. This does sound like a set up, but here's the thing… I've got a fake ID guy, but whenever I tried to go to the liquor store with it, the guy immediately knew that it was fake. Just look at me. I can barely pass for 16, which I actually am. But you're like… massive bro. If I can get my ID guy to get you a card, would you be willing to at least make a run to the store for us? I'll pay you for the transportation and the merch. I can probably find other stuff elsewhere."

Rick frowned and thought for a moment. "I keep the ID and you go through me in the future for all those types of purchases."

The kid laughed, "Done!"

"This stays between us for now."

"Yeah, yeah. No problem. If anybody else has a purchasing need, I'll come see you. I'll get you that ID soon."

Rick sighed. He wasn't big on enabling stuff like this… but this kid would have gotten somebody to say yes to such an easy payroll and it might as well be him.. he could start working on his car sooner rather than later.

[flashfuture]

Teen JLA is so funny because all I can imagine is eventually it being:

Barry: You can’t adopt a child your barely 23

Bruce, taking in Dick: Your just a pillar of salt because you and Iris can’t take in Wally yet

Barry, tries to go for his eyes: I DIDNT COME HERE TO BE READ BATS.

Yess okay because they’d be sooo much closer right. Like no metas in Gotham? Sure Bats that’s what you said when you needed Barry to come get you from the building you got stuck under when you were 15. 

Like the blackmail material, they’d have on each other. Someone pisses of Superman? Clark Kent is publishing an embarrassing picture of Arthur and Hal trying desperately to stop the water spray coming from a fire hydrant they broke. Hal flew down the street- Arthur is more used to the pressure.

also also they’d be less security concerns cause yeah Bruce Wayne and Ollie Queen have had these friends for decades who cares anymore. 

Bruce would absolutely do everything to help Barry and Iris out not limited to a visit by Batman to Rudy and Mary. 

Oh and the PTA meetings about the TT and YJ kids would take on a new spin. Cause they’re basically raising these kids all together cause they’re so much closer. It takes a village indeed. 

Which means Dick, Wally, Donna, Garth, and Roy would have all been really good friends even as younger children. So a few years before they started the teen titans. Like if Dick started at 8 and Wally at 10 and who knows for the others you know. 

[trinrose3]

(CW: rape and incest mention)

On banned books again, in Tennessee (where they recently had a big book burning led by some church), someone asked some people advocating for book bans in school about a specific book:

Reporter: "There's this book that can be found in homes and schools across the country, and in the book, there's a scene where two daughters get their father drunk and rape him."

Parents: *looking horrified*

Reporter: "Should a book like that be in schools?"

The mom: "NO!"

Reporter: "That book is the Bible."

The parents: *immediately back-track and try to explain how that's different*

Reminded me of how the PTA at my school tried to get Greek, Roman, etc mythology banned because it was "teaching the kids about 'false gods'". And then they cry about how the Christian god isn't allowed in schools, because we replaced "morning prayer" during morning announcements with "quiet contemplation" (exactly the same thing, just a new name). This persecution complex, I swear.

(And in case you wanted context, the daughters in that Bible story did what they did, because their city, Sodom, had just been destroyed for being full of sinners, their mom was turned into a pillar of salt for disobeying and looking back when the angels told them all not to do that, and they were lost in the desert and thought the whole world had just ended. So the daughters panicked and thought they needed to help repopulate the earth.)

Oh shit the more I hear about stories in the Bible the more fucked up it gets hfsvfghv

people are so fucking stupid 😭

it’s funny how the same people who advocate for the original constitution to not change any further are the ones always lobbying for Christianity in t schools 🤔 cherry pickers much? Lol

[stuckonstarker]

estranged

TW: Incest, Dark!Tony, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, AO3

Peter was sitting on his bed.

He could hear May and Tony arguing on the other side of his thin bedroom door.

He tried to block it out, but had little success. The vitriolic words seeped through and into his brain despite his every attempt to ignore them.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you make excuses for the umpteenth time,” May said, “you’ve been given plenty of chances to prove yourself and every time you fuck it up.”

Tony said, desperation raw in his voice, “I am trying my absolute best. I’ve been going through so much recently-”

“Bullshit,” May hissed, “you are so full of bullshit, Tony! You could be here for Peter if you really wanted to.”

Tony sputtered, but quickly regained his footing, “You don’t understand.”

“No, I do. I do understand, Tony, this isn’t about you or how you feel or what you can or can’t do. This is about Peter,” May said.

Tony said, “I know.”

“Do you? Do you? Every word that leaves your mouth is a shit-stained lie all about you. You only care about yourself,” May yelled.

Then there’s silence for the first time since Tony had knocked on their dingy apartment door.

Peter looked up at the framed photo of him and Tony.

A burning bile rose in his throat and his eyes pooled with resolutely unshed tears. He trapped his sobs in his throat. It was a pathetic attempt to suffocate the feeling of betrayal. But he hoped that ignoring his acute emotions might make the pain go away.

But life isn’t that simple, not for Peter anyway.

He choked on his tears. He muffled small, pitiful cries into the sleeve of his oversized sweater.

He tried to lock the pain away in his chest. He hoped that by hiding his pain he’d be helping ease the strained familial relationship between him and Tony.

If Peter feigned happiness for a little while longer then possibly everything could go back to the way it was. Before all of the fighting, before everyday felt like a chore.

Was it ever happy, though?

A potent and resonant sorrow dragged him down, down, down. He kept falling down, down, down until he was deeper in the pits of despair than he ever thought possible.

Why was this happening to him? Hadn’t he been good? Hadn’t he tried his best?

Peter couldn’t tell you the last time he felt truly happy.

A tentative knock pulled Peter from his thoughts. He looked up and he knew it was Tony.

“Yeah?” He called out. His voice cracked under the weight of his sobs.

The door slowly opened and revealed Tony. He looked worn out; dark bags under his charcoal eyes, fine lines carving his olive skin, and a permanently furrowed brow.

Peter felt bad for him.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said as he smiled solemnly.

Peter stared at his hands, “Hi.”

He risked a glance at Tony. 

Tony’s eyes were trained on him. Peter watched as regret pooled into the older man’s dark eyes. He felt like he was being pinned down by Tony’s stare.

Peter snapped his head down to stare at his hands again.

Tony sighed and began, “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that,” Peter said softly.

Tony said, “I know. I mean it every time.”

“If you meant it you wouldn’t have to keep repeating it,” Peter said.

He was close to choking on his words. Every syllable was a chore to get out and breathing felt like an impossible task. His chest clenched tightly. The pain was almost unbearable. It would’ve been too, if he hadn’t been used to this already.

Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just be happy? Why was he so upset at his father’s visit? Why is he acting so ungrateful?

Is he broken?

Tony sat next to Peter who nearly flinched from the older man’s touch.

Peter couldn’t control the way his entire body went tense, nor could he contain the trembles that ran through him entirely unbidden.

Peter shook his head and asked, “Why do you keep coming back?”

His voice was weak and stray tears fell from his honey eyes. He looked up into Tony’s eyes.

Tony stared back at him, a pained expression painted on his face, and he grabbed Peter’s delicate hands into his own.

“Because I love you, Petey,” Tony said, “you know that.”

Peter laughed humorlessly, “You really don’t.”

“I really do,” Tony said, “and I hurt too. I do care about you and I do want to see you.”

Peter paused and sniffled. He was a moment away from breaking down entirely.

Tony continued, “I know you have no reason to trust me and I know I haven’t been a good father in the past. It’s my fault. I am going to change, but I need you, Petey. I can’t do this without you, baby, you know how much you mean to me.”

Peter asked, “Really?”

“Really,” Tony said as he nodded.

Peter asked, “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Tony said.

Peter asked, “You’re really going to be here this time? You mean it?”

“Yes, baby,” Tony said, “I’m getting better. Just give me one more try.”

A vile feeling rose in Peter’s stomach all the way to his throat. A thick, malicious bile took him over. It was a passionate rage. His father had betrayed his trust one too many times.

“You always say one more and then you fuck it up like always,” Peter said, “just admit it already, Tony, you don’t love me. You have never loved me, not for a moment. You only cared about how useful I was to you.”

He was flustered from his rancor. He felt hot all over and adrenaline sent a stinging feeling through him.

The silence following was loud.

Tony said, “You don’t know how much I love you. How much I care about you. I’m always thinking about you, my baby.”

Peter’s face twitched. 

His mind flooded with all the previous times Tony had said that same exact thing. All those other times where Tony had promised things would be different. And, yet, every time Peter found himself being abandoned by Tony.

He sneered, full of ire and anguish, “I don’t care.”

“You do,” Tony said, “I know you, Petey, I know how much you care.”

Peter said, “How would you know shit about me? You’re never fucking around, asshole.”

“I will be if you give me one more chance,” Tony said, his voice sounded broken and begging, “just one more chance.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Peter said.

Tony nodded, “I know, baby, please.”

A sickly feeling that burned rose in Peter’s throat. He whimpered and broke down into helpless tears as he failed to contain the constricting, tight sorrow filling his heart.

Tony reached out to pull Peter in for a hug and Peter accepted the affection.

He sobbed haplessly into his father’s protective hold.

Peter said through sniffles, “You always promise. You always say you’ll try and that you’ll be there, but you never are. Not until you want something from me, not until you want to use me.”

Tony said, “I do love you, honey, I do. I do. You’re my hope, you’re the reason I do what I do. I care about you so much. You couldn’t possibly know how much I love you, baby.”

Silence flooded the room and drowned Peter. He felt like he was dying. The world around him faded away until the only thing left was Tony.

“I’ll call you every day, hang out with you on the weekends, I’ll go to those PTA meetings or whatever. I will do whatever you want me to. Whatever you need me to do to prove to you that I care,” Tony said, his voice raw with sincerity.

Peter’s pillars of skepticism buckled under the weight of Tony’s empty reassurances. Those lies dressed up as pretty promises felt much better than the sickening truth. They eased the storm in Peter’s stomach.

Peter looked up at Tony, into those deceptively kind eyes.

Tony was a drug and Peter couldn’t help that he was an addict. Peter wasn’t strong enough to hold up his guard. He couldn’t bear to face the disgusting reality that surrounded him.

“I…” He trailed off.

Tony looked at him with hopeful light reflecting in his charcoal eyes.

Peter sighed, “I guess we can try one more time.”

“Thank you, baby,” Tony said as he smiled, “I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear that this time will be different.”

Peter nodded, “Okay.”

Despite his reservations, a small spark of hope ignited in his chest. He wanted, so strongly, to finally have a stable father figure in his life. He had yearned for it for years. Tony had offered to be there plenty of times only to disappear once he had collected what he wanted but, somehow, Peter truly believed that this time could be different.

That he could actually have what he’s wanted for so long. A family. A father who doesn’t abandon him.

“Let’s go tell your aunt the great news,” Tony said with a borderline smug smile on his face.

Peter simply rolled his eyes and complied as he so often did with Tony.

They entered the living room together. Tony’s hand rested firmly on Peter’s lower back as he held his son in a nearly painful grip.

May looked at them both, her eyes sharpening to daggers as she eyed Tony.

“He said he wanted to give me another chance,” Tony said.

May waved her hand at Tony dismissively.

She asked, “Peter, are you sure you want this?”

Peter went to answer but his words got stuck in a gasp as his father’s hold on him tightened substantially. It felt somewhat like a threat.

“Yeah,” Peter said after a short moment.

May paused and looked around, almost at a loss for words.

She sighed and said, “Alright, but-”

“I know,” Peter said.

Of course he knew, he was basically living in Groundhog Day. May would reassure him that if he didn’t want to see Tony then all he had to do was tell her and she would take care of it. Peter would reassure her that everything was fine - when it wasn’t - and then him and Tony would be on their way.

It’s bittersweet in its familiarity.

May sighed and offered a pitying smile.

“I need to go,” She said, “I got a call from my boss and one of the new workers just bailed so I gotta be there. I can drop you off at Ned’s if you want.”

Peter shook his head, “I’ll be fine, May.”

“Are you sure? Because-”

Tony smiled, “The kid said he’s fine, May, relax.”

The easy air quickly turned taut and tense when Tony spoke. Though, he seemed rather unaffected by it. He simply ignored the icy glare May was sending his way.

“I can’t relax when you’re around,” May said, “you destroy everything you come into contact with.”

Tony said, “Well, I’m buddies with Petey right here and he’s pretty intact.”

Peter had to stop himself from disagreeing with that sentiment. He was beyond broken. He was a million little pieces of broken glass scattered across the floor. Or, at the very least, that’s how he felt.

Despite that, he allowed himself to crack a smile while Tony playfully nudged him

May exhaled heavily as she said, “Fine, but give me a call if you need something.”

“Of course,” Peter agreed.

She left and the safety Peter felt followed her out the door.

Peter pulled himself from Tony’s hold. Tony was never particularly fond of when Peter would do that. Tony had always been a very tactile person, almost to an overbearing extent.

For a brief moment, gone as soon as it appeared, Peter flinched from his father in fear of some sort of retribution.

But, when no punishment was delivered Peter found himself flooded with relief. He hated that feeling.

Tony sat on the couch and grabbed the remote.

“I’ll stay here. Don’t want you getting up to any funny business,” Tony said with a smile.

Peter sat down next to his father, “That’s unlike you.”

“In what sense?” Tony asked.

Peter said, “You’re not the responsible type, so either you have ulterior motives or you’ve miraculously changed overnight.”

“I can be responsible when I want to,” Tony said, “I can’t help it that being reckless is considerably more fun.”

Peter shook his head and snatched the remote from Tony’s hand, “You don’t have a responsible bone in your washed-up celebrity body.”

“Wow,” Tony laughed in shock, “the audacity… washed-up? Kid, you have no idea who you just started a war with.”

Peter smiled, “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t fight the elderly.”

“The elderly?” Tony said with exaggerated disbelief, “This is slander of the highest degree.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Peter said.

Tony shook his head with a wide smile as he sat back into the couch.

“Elderly,” He repeated fondly to himself.

“Yep,” Peter said.

He put on The Lego Movie, something about the childish and hopeful nature of it lifted his spirit. Also, he just liked Legos and animation.

He found himself getting embarrassingly invested in the plot almost immediately. He wasn’t normally self-conscious about his movie picks, but Tony’s presence heightened his self-awareness to unreasonable levels.

Then, a pillow hit him square in the face.

“If I were elderly could I do that?” Tony asked and, then, he tackled Peter and pinned him down to the couch. 

Tony pressed his fingers into Peter’s sides and tickled the poor, young man. 

Peter squeaked as everything picked up pace so suddenly.

“Stop it!” He said through his pained laughter.

He weakly pushed onto Tony in a futile attempt to get free.

“Please!” Peter begged through his unwitting laughter.

His hands pressed against Tony’s biceps and torso as he desperately tried to pry his father off of him.

Peter cried, “Stop!”

“Say you’re sorry,” Tony demanded.

Peter giggled, “Sorry! I’m sorry!”

Tony ceased. Peter inhaled several deep breaths as he gave Tony an ineffective glare.

“Aw,” Tony said with a fake pout, “you’re not mad at me, are you?”

Peter scrunched up his nose, “I’m not gonna be friends with a tickle monster.”

“Not even if I say that I’m sorry?” Tony smiled.

Peter said, “I think you’ve said sorry enough for one day.”

Tony laughed.

The room was dim save for the warm glow of a lamp in the corner of the room. The air felt still and everything seemed to freeze. There was a nostalgic summer warmth blooming within Peter’s chest.

Tony smiled, “You are so beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” Peter said.

He squirmed under Tony’s gaze. He felt like an insect being examined under a microscope.

Tony leaned into Peter. They were only a breath away. Peter paused as he resisted the urge to pull away.

“Tony,” Peter said as his eyes darted from Tony’s lips to his eyes.

Tony nodded, “Yes, honey?”

“You said this time would be different,” Peter whispered.

Tony said, “It is, Petey.”

“How?” Peter asked,

Tony said, voice soft and promising, “Just trust me. You’ll see.”

Peter nodded.

Tony leaned in and closed the gap between them. Their lips connected and locked together.

Peter accepted the kiss with trembling lips as his hands wrapped around Tony’s neck. Tony’s hands felt up Peter’s hips and lower back.

The kiss itself started off slowly. It felt more like a test than anything. As if Tony was afraid that even the slightest rough movement would scare Peter away.

Quickly enough though, the fires of passion devoured them both. Their lips clashed and fought with an ardent desire. It was a struggle for dominance, one that Tony would inevitably win. 

Peter moaned into the kiss and Tony nipped his lip in response.

Peter parted his lips easily and he allowed Tony to invade his mouth. The older man tasted like a vile mix of whiskey and coffee, but Peter couldn’t think of anything better.

Their lips moved together in a greedy grab for power. Tony’s tongue swiped across Peter’s. It made the younger man mewl as a pleasant feeling zapped him.

Peter’s hands travelled up to Tony’s soft, ash colored hair. Tony groaned in appreciation and deepened the kiss. It left Peter breathless.

Tony pushed Peter back against the armrest of the sofa as he pressed warm, wet kisses up and down Peter’s neck and jaw. His hands slipped underneath the loose science pun sweater Peter wore and groped his sensitive skin.

Peter gasped and shivered.

It all felt very overwhelming. Alarms were going off in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shut them off.

“Please, Tony,” Peter said, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Tony smiled against Peter’s skin. It sent waves of want rolling through him and left him mewling for more.

It was so good and, yet, he wanted to vomit.

Tony only loved him when it was beneficial, otherwise the older man didn’t speak two words to him. That’s the way it’s been and probably always will be. Peter would simply have to make do with that.

He muffled his moans while Tony kissed and licked his delicate skin. His body had always been so sensitive and Tony knew how to take advantage of that.

“Let’s get this stuffy thing off of you, yeah?” Tony urged with a slight growl to his voice as he tugged at the hem of Peter’s sweater.

Peter nodded and helped Tony tug off the shirt. It was quickly discarded to the floor without a second thought.

Sex is the only way Tony could ever love him. Only in the dead of night when arousal burns away their inhibitions. It wasn’t fair, but it was what Peter had to do in order to keep his father in his life.

Peter huffed at his own thoughts.

He pulled Tony down into another kiss. This time Peter was in the lead and he kept it slow and romantic. Their lips danced together and his tongue swiped curiously on the roof of Tony’s mouth which made the older man laugh mutedly.

Peter’s fingers ran through Tony’s hair once more, he had always been fascinated with Tony’s  hair.

Tony slowly pulled away, giving Peter a chance to tug him back in if he really wanted to.

They looked at each other for a moment.

“I’ll take care of you,” Tony said.

And Peter believed him. 

Peter laid down against the couch cushions and he closed his eyes. Tony hovered over Peter’s bare torso and glanced down to where Peter was still wearing jeans.

Tony took off Peter’s pants in an animalistic haste. He stared hard at Peter’s beautiful, spotless skin.

“God,” Tony said, “I want to ruin you, baby.”

You already have.

Tony pressed a soft kiss right below Peter’s belly button.

Peter gasped and his hips bucked up on their own accord. Tony laughed against his skin which only made him shiver and shake more.

“My sensitive baby,” Tony said, voice husky and hot on Peter’s stomach.

Peter bit his lip in a weak attempt to contain his moans.

Tony then dragged his wet, warm tongue along the ivory skin of Peter’s stomach. It sent lightning through Peter’s nervous system, he was already going into overdrive.

“Please,” Peter said.

Tony continued pressing gentle kisses to Peter’s body. Each kiss, each movement of Tony’s wet mouth, sent soft waves of want rolling throughout Peter.

Peter whimpered and squirmed despite himself. But he couldn’t move much as Tony’s calloused hands held his hips down. Tony pressed featherlight kisses against his lower abdomen and it made him dreadfully lightheaded.

Peter gasped, “Please.”

“You’re so sweet when you’re like this,” Tony whispered. His hot breath ghosted over Peter’s skin.

Peter held onto one of Tony’s biceps, a fragile attempt to ground himself in the endless nothingness. One of Tony’s skilled fingers traced the elastic band of Peter’s boxers. One finger, nimble and mean, slipped under the elastic and snapped it against Peter’s skin.

Peter yelped despite it being painless.

“Don’t be a baby,” Tony said.

Peter pouted, “I thought I was your baby.”

“Mm,” Tony said, “I suppose you make a good point.”

Peter smiled through the darkness.

Tony then took to tugging off Peter’s pretty little boxers. They were of the childish sort, which was almost enough to provoke sympathy in the older man.

Peter shifted awkwardly along with Tony and eventually his boxers were discarded along with his sweater and jeans. The cold air hit his bare skin and sent ice running through his veins. Tony, though, was like a heater by nature.

And it wasn’t long before the room started to fill with the unbearable heat of arousal and sex.

Tony asked, voice throaty, “Do you want me, baby?”

“Yes,” Peter said breathlessly, “I want you so bad.”

Tony smiled, “I want you too.”

Peter ignored the sickness that swelled up within his stomach. However, he couldn't ignore the static like buzzing that filled his ears.

Tony's hands traced the creamy skin of Peter's thighs. A molten pool of want burned within him.

Peter's own dick was flushed at the tip and hard from all of Tony's precise attentions. It was considerably smaller than Tony's, though, and that's something the older man took great joy pointing out.

“You’re so adorable,” Tony said. There was a distinct teasing in his tone.

Peter couldn’t be bothered to point it out.

Tony said, “Be a good boy for me and spread your legs.”

Peter obeyed dutifully. His legs fell open as if it was simply second nature to him.

“So good for me,” Tony praised.

Tony’s praise never failed to illuminate a fierce warmth within Peter’s cold chest.

Peter trembled. He was so vulnerable, so exposed. He felt like he should’ve been more used to that feeling.

Tony smiled and adjusted Peter so that he was almost folded in half. Peter panted, breathing suddenly becoming a labored task. His body ached slightly, but it only increased his arousal - much to his humiliation.

The position provided Tony a clear view of Peter's tight, pink hole. Tony had once referred to Peter's asshole as pretty. Peter was sure he could never be more embarrassed. 

He jolted and gasped when a slick finger pressed against him.

Peter's legs spread wider without a second thought, though. His mouth, similarly, moved on its own accord as he thoughtlessly said, "You scare me."

The words were muffled and quiet from his position, but Tony, ever observant, picked up on them anyways.

“I know, baby,” Tony said, “I’m sorry.”

Peter shut his eyes tight, “Don’t say that. Stop saying that, please.”

He hated how exposed he was. Hated how vulnerable he was. Hated everything about this situation. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Admittledy, Peter would rather have this than the neverending loneliness he was so used to.

“I love you so much,” Tony said.

Peter tried to suffocate and kill the relief those words gave him.

Tony said, his words as predatory as his smile, "My pretty little cocksleeve. You're so perfect. I trained you to take this cock good, huh?"

Peter knew he wasn’t meant to answer that question. His answer wouldn’t matter to Tony anyways.

Two of Tony's slippery fingers breached Peter's entrance. He inhaled a sharp breath and his grip on the couch cushions tightened. It wasn’t an entirely foreign feeling, though it still felt somewhat alien even after all this time. Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to it.

“Tony,” Peter whispered.

Tony smiled, “What do you need, baby?”

“I don’t-” Peter’s voice cracked off into an aborted moan as Tony’s fingers curled and twisted within his sweet insides.

Tony said, “I bet you can’t wait to get my cock inside you.”

Peter moaned and grabbed onto the side of the couch for support. A sharp spike of pleasure went straight down his spine and made him jolt into Tony’s touch - or away from it, Peter wasn’t sure.

“Huh, baby?” Tony urged, “Tell Daddy what you need.”

Peter whined, but no words dared leave his mouth.

Tony said, “Baby, Daddy can’t give you what you need if you don’t tell him.”

“I need you to…” Peter said in between pathetic mewls, “stop referring to yourself in the third person. You sound like an ah-!”

Tony fucked his fingers into Peter particularly hard and Peter’s words were choked off into a high-pitched, desperate whine.

Tony smiled, “What was that, darling? I didn’t quite catch it the first time.”

Peter decided it best not to repeat himself to which Tony gave him a dark, approving smile.

The fingers scissored Peter open. Pain was burning faintly on the edges of his vision. A sensual arousal stirred deep within his very core. 

“God,” Peter said with a strained voice, “please.”

Tony said, “God isn’t here to help you now, baby.”

The fingers within Peter invaded his body and tortured him with the featherlight pleasure and candlewick pain. His body demanded more, more, more, despite being at it’s brink already.

Tony - an expert in many things, sex being almost at the very top of that list - knew exactly how to twist and cross and hook his fingers within Peter to stretch the younger man out.

Tony's rough fingertips felt so perfect running along the raw, sensitive walls of Peter's insides.

He gasped and twitched with every slight movement Tony made.

His head fell back as he relished in the brief, dismal bliss of being fingered by his father.

Tony muttered, purposefully loud enough that Peter could hear it, “Whore.”

Peter didn’t mind. He couldn’t really. What other word suited a son who gladly took the fingers and cock of his own father?

It felt as if an eternity had passed when Tony pulled his fingers out of Peter. He watched with heavy eyes as Peter's tight hole fluttered from the sudden emptiness.

“What do you say, baby, are you ready to take Daddy’s cock?” Tony asked with a vague sort of taunt to his words.

Peter simply smiled as he nodded, though he felt as if he might have been dying.

Tony pressed a gentle, soothing hand to Peter's face and then began raking his fingers through his son's wavy brown locks.

"My good boy," Tony praised, "my sweet little boy."

Peter's eyes closed as he melted into the touch. He lost himself.

Tony said, "When I'm done with you no one will ever question who you belong to again."

Peter didn't have time to question those words.

The blunt head of Tony's thick cock poked at Peter's prepared hole. Tony's cock had always been a magnificent thing.

To Peter it was, anyway.

It was girthy - Peter could just barely wrap his hand around it - and it was long as well. The tip was often flushed a bright red when aroused. Not to mention the bush of black pubic hair that rested at the base. 

Peter gulped and flinched as his father's cock threatened to enter him. 

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Tony said, “you know Daddy will take care of you.”

The words made something instinctual within Peter recoil, but he didn’t dare move from Tony’s touch. 

A bright ache began burning in Peter's legs and back due to the position he was in. Tony didn't seem to notice his discomfort. Though even if he did notice he wouldn't care.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Tony said, “you’re gonna be begging for it, bitch.”

He then pushed the tip of his heady cock into Peter's body. Peter gasped through a half-hearted protest and, soon enough, all reasonable thought left him. 

In an instant the only thing Peter could process was the fiery feeling within him. Despite being thoroughly fingered and prepped Tony's cock still strained against his tight walls.

Tony sunk deeper and deeper within Peter's taut, presented ass.

Peter felt like he was being torn in half. Like his body was being pried open. He loved it.  

It burned. Lust fogged his mind and his vision blurred. Every ounce of rationality fully fled him.

“Please,” Peter managed to choke out with a strained voice.

Tony groaned and Peter, with what sight he had left, could see that his face was scrunched up in pleasure. As if the feeling of sinking his cock into Peter was so intensely euphoric that it was painful to resist slamming into him.

Tony's eyes opened and his pupils were dilated so wide that the blackness nearly eclipsed the whiskey brown of his eyes.

He sunk his dick deeper and deeper into the warmth of Peter's twink ass.

Peter gasped. He could feel every single inch pushing deeper inside of him. It left him breathless and light-headed.

He held his own legs up and open while still being basically folded in half. It made his muscles burn and the mind-numbing pleasure of Tony's unbearable cock only served to make the experience that much more overpowering.

Tears began pooling in his eyes and he prayed to God that Tony wouldn't notice.

“Oh,” Tony growled out, “my sweet baby's crying. Is my cock too much for you, darling?”

Peter couldn’t think.

Tony reached his hilt inside of Peter. It was the younger man's breaking point.

He felt like he was on fire and his mind filled with smoke. Every single thick inch throbbed within Peter's body. He could feel it and it made him feral.

“Fu-ck me, Daddy-!” Peter yelped out and Tony pulled out and thrust back into him.

Tony said, “You want me to fuck you, baby? How bad? Huh, baby, how bad? Beg for it if you’re that desperate.”

“Fuck me, please. Please, please, please. I’ll do anything, daddy, just fuck me. Please, I need it, please,” Peter blabbered as his dignity left him easily.

If he were stronger he’d at least have the decency to be ashamed for falling prey to such sexual deviancy.

Peter continued, “Please, please! I need you to fuck me. Please! I love your cock. I need it. Plea-!”

Tony’s cock slammed into him and everything went blank for a beautifully blissful moment.

Peter's entire world turned into a blindingly bright white. 

Tony began fucking into him and picked up pace nearly immediately. His cock assaulted the deepest parts of Peter over and over until the poor boy was gasping for air.

The thrusts were rhythmic and precise. Tony just kept hitting the most fragile spots within Peter and it felt as if it was never going to end. Like Tony’s cock would never let up its brutal pummeling of his prostate.

Peter was light-headed and weak and Tony took his legs over his shoulders. It would’ve made Peter smile if he had been aware enough to recognize the gesture.

Instead, he was too cock drunk to even think of his own name.

He felt like he was being burned alive. Air heaved into his lungs as Tony continued to fuck him with little remorse.

Peter moaned out, “God! Yes!”

His head fell back and he allowed his eyes to clench shut and uncross when they opened. The mass amounts of pleasure too much for him to reasonably bear.

“Give it to me!” Peter heaved out.

Tony’s thrusts grew brutal as he fucked Peter into the couch. Peter only gasped and yelped. He struggled to keep up with the deep, intrusive plunges of Tony’s massive manhood.

How could anyone ever resist this?

Peter’s body twitched and spasmed on its own accord as he thoughtlessly fucked back into the neverending pleasure of Tony. There was a familiar dull burn due to the stretch of Tony’s prick.

Tony had always been unfairly large.

Peter could feel every single long, thick, unyielding inch of Tony’s perfect cock. It stretched him open wide and fucked him into submission. Peter could hardly think or speak besides the occasional plea for more.

His grip on the couch tightened and an intense ache formed deep within his very core. His cock ached so much and he could feel his orgasm building up. It was a tight pressure that seemed to just keep going.

Every thrust sent Peter lurching forward and spiraling into another endless pit of sinful pleasure. His vision was filled with spots of white and his voice was hoarse from his slutty moans and pleas.

Tony’s cock slammed right into that perfect spot repeatedly. So hard, so fast, that Peter thought he might actually die from it.

Peter’s back arched in a pitiful attempt to obtain as much pleasure as possible. He was a greedy bitch chasing his climax. It just kept getting hotter and hotter and he couldn’t possibly think about anything other than cumming on Tony’s thick, hard cock.

“The only time your dad likes you is when he’s balls deep inside of you,” Tony hissed next to Peter’s ear.

Peter couldn’t respond. He could only moan helplessly as he was pinned down and fucked into the couch.

“Dumb cockslut,” Tony growled.

Peter nodded mindlessly.

His eyes crossed and his mouth opened as silent moans left him.

He was wrecked and weak and all he could do was whimper on Tony’s thick cock. His entire body was aflame with pleasure. He couldn’t think past Tony’s long cock slamming in and out of him, fucking him into endless oblivion.

He gasped, “Yes, please-!”

“You close, bitch?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded frantically.

He could feel it. The white-hot pleasure building like tidal waves within him. It tightened within him and nearly took him over. 

The pressure within him kept getting tighter and tighter. He couldn't handle it. He let out a series of desperate pleas and cried as he clawed at the cushions.

Tony continued to fuck ruthlessly into him. Over and over again the older man kept slamming into his prostate. It was all too much. Too much. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Peter moaned, his voice entirely cracked, entirely wrecked.

Tony groaned, “Yeah, my dumb little slut’s going to cum on my cock, huh?”

Peter's eyes clenched shut and pathetic noises left his cherry stained lips. Everything burned so goddamn good. He couldn't fucking think.

His entire body spasmed and tightened around Tony's cock, as if he was trying to pull the thick appendage deeper within him. Desperate, broken moans were torn from Peter's sore throat. His mind was wiped black from the pleasure as white cum painted his flat stomach.

He had cum so hard he feared he'd never breathe properly again.

It certainly didn’t help that Tony continued to fuck Peter’s wrecked body. His thrusts devolved into something animalistic as he chased his own finish.

The slap of skin against skin got louder, lewder, meaner.

Peter only gasped and mewled. He was entirely at the mercy of the malevolent man above him. 

His head tossed back and forth and he swam around in the endless pleasure. It was never ending and brutal and he begged for it to end.

Tony's brutal fucking slowed and and slammed into Peter a couple more times before a flood of sticky, warm cum filled him.

There was a brief moment of peaceful silence as they both basked in the afterglow of their orgasms. Everything was perfectly still for a moment. Despite the uncomfortable stickiness and the unbearable humidity Peter found himself wishing they could be like this all the time.

Their breaths melded together. Tony's fingers lightly traced intricate patterns into Peter's delicate skin. 

“I’ll get us cleaned up, baby,” Tony said after a moment, his voice similarly wrecked.

Peter didn’t even have the strength to nod this time.

*

May walked into her apartment and was briefly taken aback by the domestic sight that greeted her.

Peter and Tony were watching a movie. Tony’s arm was wrapped around Peter while Peter leaned into his warmth.

Both of them looked up at May’s presence.

She looked worn out. Her hair stuck out of place and dark bags shadowed under her hollow eyes.

“Peter and I had a great time while you were working. Not to rub it in or anything,” Tony said with a smile.

Peter nodded with a weak smile, “Yeah.”

“You look like a trainwreck,” Tony said, “no offense.”

May glared at him hard and went to say something before Tony cut her off.

“Let me take Peter for the weekend,” He said, “so you can have some ‘you’ time.”

May said, “Peter isn’t my issue.”

“Of course, but wouldn’t it be nice to have the apartment to yourself for two days?” Tony prodded, “And, besides, me and Peter need to catch up. We haven’t spoken in a month or so.”

“Three,” Peter said.

Tony looked at him inquisitively, “Hm?”

“Three months,” Peter said.

Tony nodded, “Ah, three months.”

“Peter,” May said, “do you want to spend the weekend with Tony?”

Peter paused and felt a familiar tension building in his chest. Tony’s grip on Peter tightened slightly and Peter swore he heard him growl.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” May asked.

Peter said, “I am one-hundred percent sure.”

“Alright,” She conceded.

Tony smiled and stood.

He towered over Peter and casted a heavy shadow over him.

“Go pack your stuff, kid,” Tony said, “I have a feeling your Aunt might want to set some ground rules.”

Peter nodded and scurried off to pack his clothes and toiletries, though he probably wouldn’t be needing them as Tony already had that stuff back at the Tower. Tony much preferred it when Peter used the stuff provided for him instead of bringing his own supplies.

Peter could still hear their talking through his flimsy bedroom door.

“If he comes back here with so much as a scratch on his head, Stark, I swear to God I’ll-” May said.

Tony interjected, “Yeah, yeah, May. He’ll be taken care of.”

“By a hired assistant or something?” May asked with vitriol in her voice.

Tony scoffed, “I get that you hate my guts but have a little faith. It wouldn’t be some assistant, it would be Happy.”

There was silence.

“What?” Tony asked, “It was funny.”

“I don’t think so,” May said.

Peter sighed as he zipped up his backpack and walked into the living room.

Instantly, May put up a polite front as if her and Tony were on perfectly good terms. And Tony still had a cocky smile plastered on his face.

“Ready to go already, kiddo?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded.

He walked over to May and Tony. May kissed him goodbye while Tony was already leaving.

“Call me if you change your mind,” May whispered.

Peter gave her a reassuring smile, “I will.”

He had to run to catch up to Tony. He huffed as he got into the black car. It wasn’t the older man’s usual flashy style. Peter was relieved for that small mercy at least.

“Could you stop provoking my Aunt?” Peter asked as he buckled in.

Tony said, “I didn’t know I was doing anything of the sort.”

“Can’t you afford personal drivers?” Peter asked.

Tony said, “I can.”

“Why don’t you?”

Tony gave him a brief look, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“I have to,” Peter said, “considering I don’t get to speak to you often.”

Tony made a noise but didn’t acknowledge that comment further.

Peter asked, after a moment of silence, “So, why don’t you?”

“Why don’t I what?”

Peter sighed, “Why don’t you hire drivers?”

“I only trust myself to drive. Every driver I’ve had is incompetent,” Tony said.

Peter said, “Happy?”

“He’s a friend who I gave a job. If you’ve been paying attention you would have noticed that motherfucker doesn’t touch the steering wheel when I’m in the car,” Tony said.

Peter shook his head, “You’re such a dick.”

“Yep, but why exactly in this moment do you say that?” Tony asked.

Peter said, “It’s obvious in everything you say and do that the only thing you care about is yourself. And, you don’t respect anybody else beyond that. It’s like you see everyone else as stepping stones to get ahead. It’s sick.”

“Sicker than taking your Dad’s cock like a whore?” Tony asked.

His face was entirely straight as he said that. How he could say something so vulgar entirely stoically was a mystery to poor Peter Parker.

Peter felt a sickly bile rise in his throat again. He couldn’t find it within himself to speak.

Tony said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Fuck you,” Peter spat.

Tony laughed, “You are always so quick to bark, but do you have any bite?”

Peter glared at Tony, but Tony didn’t even spare him a glance.

“See?” Tony said, “Even now, you’re too afraid to say anything.”

Peter sneered, “I am not afraid.”

“Then why don’t you ever say what you want to say, Petey?” Tony asked, though the question seemed rhetorical in a taunting way.

Peter paused.

He said, “I guess I’m just a better person than you.”

Tony smiled, “You won’t be for long, sweetheart.”

Peter’s throat burned as he forced his tears down. He refused to give Tony the satisfaction of making him cry.

Dear God, what did I do to deserve this?

“Could you just fucking stop being an asshole for one moment?” Peter hissed as his voice cracked.

Tony said, “I thought you wanted some quality time with me? I can turn this car around if you can’t handle it.”

“You know you’re being a piece of shit - and that’s the worst part! - you could be better if you tried, but you refuse,” Peter said.

Tony said, “I am exactly who I need to be, baby, I have an empire and you live in some ratty ass apartment.”

“At least I’m not a predator,” Peter muttered.

Tony laughed, “Predator? Are you kidding me, kid? You were literally fucking begging for it.”

Peter choked and tears began streaming down his face. He couldn’t stop it. It burned so bad. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted it to go back to the naive, blissful childhood he used to have.

“That’ll hold up real good in court, honey,” Tony taunted and then mimicked Peter, “I cried for my dad’s cock but got upset when he gave it to me.”

Peter sniffled weakly and pawed at the tears rolling down his face.

Tony smiled, “The only person who would believe you is May, but it’s not like it’d be hard to get rid of her if I needed to.”

Peter whimpered. He resisted the urge to jump out of the car. He fought back every inch of sorrow within him.

“Do you want that?” Tony said, “Do you want me to kill May because you were such a filthy whore you made me fuck you, huh?”

Peter cried, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Tony said, “Do you want me to stop telling you the truth?”

Peter shook his head. He couldn’t stop crying. His heart hammered away in his chest. There was an unpleasant buzzing in his ears. He was alone.

Peter whimpered, “Please stop, Tony, you’re scaring me.”

Tony complied.

The rest of the drive to the tower was silent.

Peter scurried away as soon as he had gotten the chance. There was a room set up for him, still exactly the same as he left it three months ago.

Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to hide for long. He was on Tony’s turf. He was only able to lock himself in his room because Tony allowed it.

His legs and body were filled with exhaustion from the day’s earlier events. His entire body reeled as he recalled what happened. He felt like he was going to vomit.

He decided to hide under the covers and curl up into a small ball instead. He cried until he fell asleep.

[ask-runaan-anything]

Was there ever a time you worried about your marriage (even if it turned out unfounded)? How did you overcome it?

I overcame it by being a soft fool for my husband, and by actually talking to him, and listening as well. You know, the usual.

Angst warning, little shadows.

The first time that Ethari worked on a big village project as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove, he spent long hours, and long days, in the company of his fellow crafters. He was in charge, so he had to be there from very early until very late, for more than two full Moons.

I was busy training, as always, and I didn’t understand what the difference in our daily rhythms would mean at first. But I started to miss little things, like morning tea with him, and letting him do all the talking to Rayla’s teachers at PTA meetings, and extra long hair brushing sessions where he and I would talk of soft things.

I missed them, and I missed him. But I had my duty, and he had his. And so we continued on.

I took a bit of a tumble in training after a while, but Ethari was in a big consultation meeting, so I patched myself up, with a little help from Rayla. Ethari looked sad when he saw my injuries, but he didn’t say anything.

A few days later, he came home with bandages of his own, along his shoulder and one side of his chest, and I nearly had a heart attack. But he brushed it off, saying it wasn’t that bad and a support structure had just gotten out of hand during construction, and his team was just being overly protective of their project leader. So I let that go, too.

Then.

Then his team publicly revealed the project they’d been striving over so long and hard, and I had to stand in the crowd and listen to my husband say that the village wouldn’t need assassin patrols like before, because his team had crafted an early warning system attuned to sensing approaching life forms around the village’s protective spells. And they were planning on extending the alarm towers in a spreading pattern out from the village, too.

Excuse me??

I may have stalked off, but I assure you, it was just to find a quiet place to think. I definitely wasn’t furious, not me. Did not at all feel like my entire purpose in life was being casually discounted and replaced by a, a, a, a magic pillar.

Was that all I was to Ethari, in my professional capacity, a magic pillar? That he could just up and replace me, my service to the Silvergrove? Did he only want me doing my duty far far away in the human lands where he didn’t have to hear about it? Was my being an assassin repellent to him?

Under my fury--which I totally did not have--I was scared. And lost. I thought I knew what our professional partnership meant: he made the swords and I swung them. Simple. But he had gone and made these plans, and involved the whole village, and they all went along with it.

I worried that Ethari was lying to them, that they thought that because it was Ethari making these defenses, that he had my approval and support, and so did his project.

I was not a hot mess of negative feels, nope, not me, not this stoic assassin. I was Fine.

I may have stopped speaking to my husband, though. May have needed more information than I had access to and didn’t want to misstep without it. Didn’t know if my trust in him had been misplaced.

That’s, um. That’s a very bad feeling. I hated it with every fiber of my being.

So I lurked around my own house in silence, trying not to spend much time in any room with Ethari, lost in my own worries. Meanwhile, at work, I changed exactly nothing about our training routines. Somehow, I would find a way to keep my assassins relevant to the village’s needs, on top of our missions.

Ethari pulled away from me, too, when he realized I’d gone silent. He didn’t know what it meant, he’d never seen that from me before. But he constantly offered small tokens of connection, trying to reach me.

I wanted to reach out to him, so badly. I desperately needed to understand. But at the same time, I didn’t trust him anymore, not like I had. When you crave reassurance but your only source is the person who hurt you... My thoughts went through some dark cycles then. The darkest of which was something like: Should I just leave the village and let them ghost me for choosing an elf who so completely failed to understand my life’s purpose and ended up hamstringing the assassins and their ability to perform their duty for Xadia and led to the ruination of the Moonshadow elves’ honor in the eyes of all our fellow elves and the Dragon Throne?

The genuine terror that I may have failed to understand Ethari’s heart so deeply that I’d brought the end of my entire people as we knew ourselves... was not a good headspace.

“Runaan. Runaan, you haven’t washed your hair in days.” Ethari tentatively lifted the end of my ponytail and showed me a bit of leaf that had been there yesterday. And the day before.

I nodded and took my ponytail from him, and I started toward the bath to take care of it. Can’t let your appearance slide, not if you’re a Moonshadow elf.

But he followed me. I was exhausted, and lonely, and afraid, and very much lost in my own head. And Ethari had always made me feel better. So, in a moment of weakness, I let him wash my hair again. I needed him, however I could get him, even if I couldn’t trust him anymore.

He poured clean water over my hair and sluiced out my bubbly shampoo, and then he paused. I tensed up, waiting, not sure what to expect. He leaned close from behind me and rested his forehead against my wet hair.

And then I heard him sob. “Where have you gone, my heart? What have I done to push you away? I was only trying to help you, I promise. Please, Runaan. Tell me how I can make it better. I’ll do anything. I’ll always do anything for you.” And he pressed his head against mine and cried.

I nearly broke the edges of the tub, I was squeezing them so hard. Wherever Ethari was coming from, it wasn’t the place I had imagined. “You... never asked,” I managed to say. My voice sounded strange, rusty.

“I wanted to surprise you. You’ve always liked my surprises before,” he murmured.

“Your trinkets weren’t trying to put me out of a job,” I sassed.

“I was trying to keep you safe!” he exclaimed. “Fewer patrols, fewer skirmishes. But if that’s how you feel about my project, I’ll scrap it.”

And just like that, the old Ethari resurrected in my heart. He’d never changed. I hadn’t read him wrong. We just... hadn’t communicated well.

I turned in the tub and faced him, cupping his cheeks in my wet hands. “You impulsive fool,” I begged him, “why didn’t you consult with me first? Or any assassin? All your work, and you never asked any of us.”

His dark brows bent. “You never keep the right secrets from each other.”

That sent my heart racing, because I knew he was right, and I couldn’t say so. I scooted away from him on my knees and shoved my face under the water and shouted out of sheer frustration. When I pushed myself up again, panting for breath, Ethari’s mood shifted suddenly.

“Wait, Runaan, I think I can fix this. The bubbles you just made... Yes, I have an idea. And as soon as you’re dressed, I’d like to consult with you properly on it. If you’ll let me...?” He bit his lip and waited nervously.

I slicked my hair back and took a deep breath. “No special treatment.”

“What?”

“The Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove shouldn’t give out special treatment. You need to treat me the same as everyone else.”

Well, that made one of his brows pop, and he looked me up and down in the tub. “I’m not sure I have that much shampoo on hand, love.”

I firmed my lips to keep from smiling at his sass. “When it comes to project consultation, Ethari. Let’s start from the beginning, where we should’ve begun in the first place. Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you what I need. That’s how we’ve always done things. We shouldn’t have changed a formula that works.”

He nodded for a moment. “I’m sorry. I did give you special treatment, and it’s gone all wrong. I shouldn’t have tried to soften your hard side. You need it to keep yourself safe.”

“I do.” Our eyes met for a long moment, and then I squeezed his shoulders and pressed my forehead against his, finally confident once again that Ethari was the elf I thought I’d fallen in love with. “But I will give you care of my soft side again, my heart. I am sorry I doubted you.”

“You doubted me?” Ethari breathed.

I nodded against his forehead. “It was... severely unpleasant and I never wish to repeat it.”

Ethari whisked a towel around my shoulders and used it to pull me closer. “Then I’ll never give you cause, my shade. Let’s get you dried off. You have a consult with the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove in a little while, and I want you looking your best for him.”

I pulled Ethari into a tight, wet hug and squeezed my eyes shut, clinging desperately to his warm and stable strength. “He deserves my best.”

[sazzafraz]

ects snippet one

I don’t see this bit changing a lot so its spoiler freeeeeee

He thinks of acid and bile first. His tongue is on the points of his teeth searching for the stale carrot taste. Dead bodies in a lake almost make him hungry. Like soup, Kyuubi says, now, should add some salt. Naruto thinks of their families and draws from Konoha shinobi standard what he should do next. The Uchiha graves are the only ones he’s seen up close. Found and burned away by his Sasuke years ago, not yet warded against yin spirits. Those small piles had been lumped together too close to the houses at first and then reburied in a Konoha approved location when Sasuke became Konoha’s only Private Citizen. Now they’re done by matrilineal lines and decorated with Uzumaki shells and ribbons from Lightning. When Naruto was asked, allowed, to come Sasuke had him press strawberry seedlings into the ground. Sasuke had been messily eating from a different bowl and had pulp smeared across his mouth and jaw. Then, Naruto had wondered if he was allowed to sweep them away with his tongue, if people did that sort of thing in graveyards. Now Naruto knows that the dead do not appreciate love or lust.

People soup. Naruto counts twice and draws a grid on the shallow shore with his foot. 

Monkey Leader is inattentive to Naruto’s actions. He sits between them and their merchants keeping his gaze on the horses. Only one of them likes Naruto. A chestnut mare with a band of white around her mouth and eyes that make her seem mean -she’s downplaying exactly how vicious she is, but she likes him, and that's more than he was expecting. Naruto pulls the body into the grid and starts with the teeth. Pulls back molars for the guys in T&I. The skin sloughs off the dead man's face, puddles down into his wet clothes. Naruto burns it off with Kyuubi’s power, excellent as always for getting rid of evidence. Molars should be enough.

He has a sort of frustrated passion about this. See, Naruto knows intellectually that this has to be done, is done regardless, because you can’t have dead bodies in waterways. They bloat and rot and make people sick. The kind of sick that people like Giri come to fix and then leverage into destabilising the entirety of the Elemental Nations. Naruto also knows that a missing tooth is a decent price for the families of these poor dead to get closure. The third, worst thing Naruto knows is that things come to see dead bodies, things like him. Ninja like him. Spirits like him. Sons of Oceans and Mountains and tall white pillars to the underworld, like him. None of them, really, should be looking at these dead bodies. 

Six teeth. Naruto eyes a leaf moving out of sequence with the wind. Tanuki, an earth specialist.  Tanuki nods and quiet as a mouse the bodies sink into the shore.

--

Sunagakure welcomes them and their trophies at dawn. They sneak in over the sand tide-line two to a row before even the most thrifty merchant has set their wares. Gaara’s office will not be officially open for another three hours, not even his Twilight Guard will accept a visitor now. So Naruto does what he does, cracks his back and makes a loud exclamation about finding a place to sleep. Monkey Leader sets them on a course through Suna’s cruisy districts and around the intelligence quarter. The Konoha away barracks are part of their recent trade deal. A cushy thing on their end and Naruto knows where his room is. After the Summit, before the War, Naruto quietly moved all the things he previously left in Gaara’s spare bedroom to a Jounin room with an ensuite. This room is at the end of the hall with no windows, nothing in or out. A dead end. Monkey Leader espys him but does not comment. 

In the room Naruto turns off the radio left playing on the dresser. His old book lies with its spine cracked, a pair of pants he left to wash last time crumpled on the bed. His single pillow looks lonely. Someone has been in since he was here last, the footprints in the thick carpet aren’t his own. Following this probably-not-a-stranger he sees that his personals have been restocked in the bathroom, laid on the rim of the strange standing bathtub. The grates have been cleaned. Naruto runs a bath and dumps a satchel with Sakura’s clean, neat writing into the water. A small bag sits next to it and he recalls a short conversation at dinner some nights ago. Sasuke and Kakashi had been having one of their weird bonding moments over Naka rocks. Kakashi would run his bandaged fingers over them looking for some indefinable flaw. Sasuke would say that’s not the point and hand him another. He and Sakura watch this for a few minutes, giggling into their beers. Sakura had just shaved her hair down again and the elfin lines of her face were so perfect he’d had trouble not telling her so. 

“Naruto,” Sasuke says in his low clear voice, “what are you thinking about?”

“Sakura’s pretty,” he blurts out. Sakura lowers her eyelashes for a moment, laughing.

“Yes.” Sasuke agrees. “But what are you thinking?”

“‘Bout rocks?” Naruto shifts his gaze carefully. He’s bowled over often by how much he loves looking at Sasuke. If he does it too fast the soft pink of his mouth and thin scar that meets his ear makes him drool. “Dunno, that one.” He picks one from the pile and holds it triumphant.

“Idiot,” Sakura says. She too picks a rock. “Momentos? Right?” 

Sasuke flushes from his heart upwards, making the pink of his lips plush. Sakura keeps her rock, eventually Kakashi meets his proteges standards and departs with his own. Naruto pockets his but forgets it in the wash. Here it is again in Sunagakure with Sasuke’s hair ribbon around it. 

In reality Naruto does not now nor has he ever had momentos. He has moments and memories aplenty. Long, too long sketches of Konoha night in the main thoroughfare in the early morning. The drift and drag of everyone's footsteps lying in the dirt, on the street, leading to the houses they share with people that want them there. Swing sets. Shrine steps. Stoops. All of them empty, at least when he’s there. A city is a lonely place in his experience. 

Things are better now. He has Sasuke, when they aren’t fighting. Sakura, when she’s capable of acting without compromise. Kakashi, when he isn’t fighting a cold war alone. His other friends, when time allows. Allowance is better too. Assured at the very least. 

Compromise is a word he knows now. A strange little door into the way life actually works. 

See, Naruto’s first idea of how things work is formed at 4pm, 2am on weekdays and 7-11am on Saturdays. There’s a little alcove outside one of the curving windows of Konoha’s Library, high above the main hall near one of the old study nooks not even ANBU use. On rainy days the water sloshes off the side. On sunny days the heat only touches the edges. There is enough room for a boy to escape with a little apple and the free water from the front desk. The window is permanently cracked open to let out the musty air. When Konoha’s long hot days and nights were too much for even the most dogged badgering Naruto would skin himself raw heaving his body into it. A radio plays all day in the library, old records and ads for toilet paper. Like everyone else Naruto drowns out the patriot tunes and concentrates on the old radio head that chooses which stories play at the end of the school day. Hashirama and the Seven Headed Snake, Subaru and the Stolen Sword, Himawari Sunrise, Nariko Ascending. He’s heard them all at some point, drifted away to the tales of heroes and Hokages. 

Naruto’s met Hashirama now and he’s a whole different deal. Tsunade makes more sense when you know that that was her first idea of a hero. 

In The Seven Headed Snake Hashirama does not speak. He does wield a sword of redwood through the thick neck of a serpent so big it blots the sky. His heroism is in his quiet dutiful battle. The way the man telling the story describes his strong back and long hair. That’s your back, he says. That’s Konoha’s back. It sounds so absurd, even to a child training to be a ninja: cut through the sky, mold the earth, call forth life to do your bidding alone. The snake’s carcass, the narrator informs them, is as long as the Naka river, and buried somewhere near the big swell the Uchiha worship. On dark nights its eyes watch the village, warily, for Hashirama’s redwoods stand sentinel. Not even in death can he be escaped. 

People don’t let things like Naruto in their houses. This he knows before he can speak. There is something in him people don't want on their doorsteps. Later he knows it's the Kyuubi. After that he knows that it’s the Uzamaki blood. Even later, when he came home from a war that crushed out the light he thought he could carry anywhere, he knew it was simple mortal fear. Something inside Naruto will never die, and anything more mortal than him knows that. Well, except Sasuke. 

In the warm bath water he caresses his leg, not letting it go any further. Far from home he misses his love. There’s an edge in Naruto, sharp as his chipped tooth, that’s only soothed by long dark hair and a softening body. Naruto leans up to look at the scents and staples Gaara’s left in his room. Sweet aloe and greens. Salt and fresh made sand. He thinks of Sasuke’s skin and Sasuke’s soft smile and how he cuddles close to warmth. Naruto’s had grim reason to be grateful for how hot he runs, this last winter when Sasuke’s feud with their electricity provider cut their power mid cold-snap he’s had happier, hornier reasons to be joyful.

Sasuke has a vicious glee about domesticity that is deeply adorable. He loves arguing with the cashier about his coupons and going to PTA meetings and making trendy sandwiches. He does it with a soft violence that Naruto absolutely does not relate to but finds charming. Never has a man wanted for mass murder been so invested in a collect-a-coin newspaper competition. He plays music and cooks food. He goes to town halls and puts up with the mean crooked smile in their fruit vendors eyes. Naruto loves him so much when he makes noise. Naruto loves him more when it’s quiet at home. Naruto loves when Sasuke will talk to him about things he cares for: plants, dumplings, people. Here, far away from his love, Naruto loves that he doesn’t have to lie to him.  

Naruto drags his hand up to his stomach and uncorks the bath. The soft slush of water is the last noise in the room.