#sunrise twin thoughts

[friendrat]

Geez... I was just doing some reading on the internet and got a punch in the gut.

This started because I saw a post in a womb twin survivor support group where someone had posted and was describing how they were born with a pin hole in their spine, which sounded very similar to my own diagnosis of Spina Bifida Occulta.

Anyway, certain health problems are more common in Vanishing Twin Survivors, and I thought I remembered that Spina Bifida was one of them, so I was looking it up to see if I was remembering correctly.

As I'm scrolling, one link said, "Spina Bifida a vanishing nightmare." So I clicked on it, and it was a quick thing about how numbers were going down, and they weren't sure why, but part was attributed to terminating affected pregnancies. The conclusion was that if they continued "preventative measures" i.e. termination, Spina Bifida could disappear. Of course! The solution to this health problem isn't to work on an *actual* cure or improve treatments... it's to just kill the people who have it. That will solve everything.

I'm just... I don't even know why I'm surprised. They wanted to kill me then. Of course, they would want to kill me if I was born today. I don't know why I would expect anything else... but it made me so... sad.

You know... I had an older cousin who had a much more severe case of Spina Bifida than I do. And when I say older, I mean he was like my parents' age. He was worse off than me, but he was always smiling. He was always joking with people. He volunteered his time to his local church, he stood by his principals, he helped out people in need without ever asking anything in return... and when he died, the funeral home was packed. There was a line around the building of people waiting to say their goodbyes, and it kept up the entire visitation. People were parked way down the road and had to walk to get there. My cousin was a light in people's lives.

But if he had been born right now, people would just weigh his life based on his disability and determine that he should be killed before his light could reach anyone. But sure... we can eliminate this disorder by killing the people who have it. It's disgusting that people think that way. There's no other word for it.

[euesworld]

"You are like a twin sunset mirroring a twin sunrise at the same time cause you are one of a kind.."

There is nothing in this world like you - eUë

[tears-of-boredom]

also, i need to get this out of my notes

so, i dont know how popular Sunrise Avenue is internationally, even if they sing in english,, but they have this song called Fairytale Gone Bad, and everytime the singer sings the word "walking" I can only hear it as "Joaquin". and by now its an inside joke between only myself that the guy in the song met this Joaquin, and he like, formed a really great relationship with them, and that's how he realised that their current relationship isn't worth saving.

[patheticdarling]

Her Sacrifice

Summary: The assassins had no such luck finding Prince Aemond but what were they to do when they stumbled upon the beloved wife of King Aegon instead? Her belly swollen with his heir.

Warnings: Blood & Cheese/murder/gore & blood/cursing/threats/blades/pregnancy/kidnapping/funeral/incest (reader is helaena's older twin)

Word Count: 2236

"The other lords will be accompanying me for a drink in the Throne Room. Shall you join us, Wife?" Aegon asked, a slightly eager smile on his face, anticipating your agreement.

You sighed as you began to undo the braids in your hair, "The hour is late, Husband. I must rest."

Aegon pouted, "Just a cup! We've attended to our royal duties all day, have we not earned a bit of respite?"

"Respite is what I shall get with a good night's sleep. Not drinking until sunrise with you and your comrades," you teased. You stood from seat at your vanity, walking over and placing Aegon's hand on your growing bump, "Besides, do you not wish for our babe to be born healthy? So that they may grow into formidable dragon riders like their parents."

He smiled softly at your belly before kissing it sweetly, "You make a good point, my dear. Mayhaps I should stay in with you."

You shook your head, smiling down at him, "Do not let me stop your fun. You are right. The King deserves his respite. Besides there may not be many more nights where we get to enjoy ourselves," motioning to your bump.

"You are going to make a wonderful mother," Aegon stood from his seat, "I shall allow you to enjoy your last moments of rest then." He planted a soft kiss on your lips, "I love you, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "I love you, Aegon."

Aegon kissed you once more before giving your belly a playful squeeze and disappearing from your chambers. You summoned one of your ladies to help you finish getting ready for bed. Thanking her as you got yourself comfortable between the silk sheets of you and Aegon's bed. Finally bidding her good night as she blew out most of the candles, leaving a few on for Aegon's drunken return.

You could not be sure of the hour when you heard your chamber doors creak open followed by the shuffling of feet. You did not even bother opening your eyes, assuming you'd feel the bed indent as Aegon stumbled towards it.

"Back so soon?" you teased, "I was only being half serious about the sunset-"

Suddenly, a large hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes shot open as two men loomed over you. You screamed and panicked as the larger man used his other arm to keep you pinned to the bed.

"Quiet!" the smaller man pulled a blade out, pressing it to your throat, "Unless you want me to bleed you like a pig."

You nodded, terrified of what these men could do, "W-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Its not our wants you should be concerned with, Your Grace."

"Who sent you? What do y-you want from me?" your voice shook.

"A life is owed. It wasn't supposed to be you. A son for a son we were told," the smaller man shrugged, "But it seems Prince Aemond isn't in the castle tonight."

Of course, you thought. This was about Lucerys. Your younger brother had taken the boy's life and that was a deed that could not go unpunished. You knew how deeply your eldest sister loved all of her children. The loss of one would be devastating. Taking Aemond's life made sense. But taking yours? And the life of your unborn child? That was not in Rhaenyra's nature. This was plotted by someone far more sinister and dark.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" you spoke up. They both sent stares to the other, "Daemon Targaryen. He sent you to kill one of us."

The large man scoffed, "Aren't you a smart one?"

"Shame those smarts won't do you any good now, will they?" the smaller one mocked.

"Please," you tried to beg, "Do not do this. No good will-" The large hand came down on your mouth again.

"That's enough," he grunted before turning back to the smaller man, "I'll hold her down and you cut."

Your blood ran cold at his words. Not only were they going to kill you but they were going to tortuously cut out your unborn child. They both yanked you further down the bed until you were flat on your back. You tried to kick, scream, bite, thrash as much as you could but the man proved to have almost inhuman strength. The smaller man raised his blade, that same sadistic grin plastered on his face before he began to dig it into the lower part of your abdomen.

White hot pain seared through your body as he continued to slice into you. Your vision was blurred with tears and you could have sworn your throat was raw from your cries. Though the pain was so intense that you could not process the sounds that might have been leaving you. Warm blood pooled all around you, the once ivory sheets now a deep crimson. One last gasp left you as they pulled your child from your body.

Suddenly you had remembered your mother telling you about the pains of childbirth when you first married Aegon and all anyone could talk about was you producing his heirs. She had a rather negative approach that utterly terrified you. So, you decided to find comfort in Rhaenyra's advice instead.

"I will not withhold the truth from you, it truly is the most excruciating pain a woman must go through."

You groaned, "That is not what I had wished to hear, Sister."

"You did not let me finish. The process is hard, yes. And you will feel the urge to curse the Gods or even your husband and swear to never bear anymore children," you both laughed, "But the moment you hear those sweet cries and your babe is placed upon your chest, the pain is forgotten. And nothing has ever seemed so worth it. Then you will know, right then and there, that you would do it all over again if it meant you could finally find that purest form of love."

And yet, you would never discover that beautiful feeling your sister had painted so clearly. The room was almost eerily silent besides the dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

"What do you know?" the man panted as he held your lifeless infant, "A son. Congratulations, my Queen."

You could not speak as you felt your body numb itself. Tears falling with no cries as they stuffed your son's body into a sack. It was as if you could feel your heart shatter. The men finished their sinister act before fleeing through a secret passageway. You tried little to fight the heaviness in your eyes. Perhaps this was all a horrible dream and if you shut your eyes, you'd open them to find yourself in bed with Aegon's arms wrapped securely around your belly. The last thing you could muster was a small smile at the sentimental image as your vision faded out completely.

"Sister?" Helaena called out into your bed chamber, "I did not wish to wake you but Aegon is being so loud and I cannot sleep with him-" Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of your mangled body lying on the bed. Your figure lifeless and your eyes vacant as you stared at the canopy. She approached your body, a shaky hand reaching out to touch your face to be met with utter stillness. Helaena backed out of the room slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks before sprinting to find some sort of help. As if anyone could undo what had already been done.

"I-I don't know what happened. I came in and she...she was..." Helaena's voice cracked with sobs as various people filed into the royal bed chamber; the Kingsguard, the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and lastly, your husband.

They all stopped at the sight before them, their eyes welling with tears and their stomachs churning. The Dowager Queen let out a heavy sob as all their attention turned to the King. Aegon approached your body cautiously.

He fell to his knees, his hands cradling your bloodied face as he sobbed, "My wife, my dearest-"

Nobody dared say a word as Aegon mourned over you. His sobs heavy with grief as he called out your name over and over again. The Queen Mother clutching Helaena's arm as they cried with him. The Kingsguard hanging their heads low in shame at their failure to protect their Queen. Otto Hightower, known to be quick with his word, said nothing.

The council meeting that followed was one full of dread and grief. Most of the council mourned, the Hand schemed, and the King could do not but curse the Gods and swear revenge.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of the funeral arrangements for the Queen-"

"No," Aegon was quick to stop the Hand, who raised a brow at his grandson's denial, "I will not have my wife's body dragged through the streets like a dog!"

"Not dragged, honored!" Otto corrected him before lowering his tone as he spoke to the King, "Y/N was my granddaughter and I loved her. She deserves the funeral of a Targaryen princess, a Targaryen queen. The small folk wish to mourn their Queen and the heir she carried. And they need to know who is responsible for this."

Aegon's face twisted in disbelief, "How could they not already know?! Who else would do this save the bitch queen of bastards?!"

"We must know for certain, Your Grace," Lord Jasper suggested, "If it was not your sister, this may prove to be an even bigger threat to the crown, to you, my King."

Aegon scoffed, "I do not care what threatens me. My wife is dead. And my child," he stifled a sob, "That cunt did this, I know it. Her and her kingdom of traitorous bastards will burn for it."

Before anyone could speak, the doors of the council chamber opened as Lord Larys entered. He bowed meekly as all eyes turned to him.

"My lords, Your Grace," he greeted the council.

All stood still, "State your purpose, Lord Larys," the Hand spoke.

"We have apprehended one of the assailants. A gold cloak, known for his brutal nature. The guards caught him fleeing the Gate of Gods. He carried the child's body in a sack."

The King hardly wasted any time, stomping over to the doors, "I shall kill him myself."

"We might retrieve further information about who is to blame for this tragedy after questioning," Ser Criston stopped Aegon from leaving as Otto spoke, "I trust in your skill set, Lord Larys."

The Strong Lord bowed before exiting the room. All eyes turned once again to the King and his Hand.

"We will hold the service for both the child and mother-"

"I said no," Aegon grunted, "My wife and child will not be put on display for the Realm."

"Your Grace, we might use this to our advantage in the war you wish to march into. Your people need to know the depravity that Rhaenyra is capable of. The great houses of Westeros will see that she is not fit to rule given her cruel nature. They will flock to your side and with them, their armies and bannermen."

Aegon continued to shake his head. He could not just let them see you or your child like that. They did not deserve it.

"Mother," he turned to the Dowager Queen for support.

Alicent approached Aegon's chair, "The Hand sets on a difficult path, my darling, but it might be the right one."

The King could not muster anymore fight, "Have the Silent Sisters prepare the Queen and child for their journey. Behind them will be Princess Helaena and the Queen Mother."

"No, I do not wish to be a spectacle," Alicent argued but her father would not hear it.

Your husband visited your body as the Silent Sisters began to prepare it. They had cleaned the mess and dressed you in one of your favorite dresses, the emerald color complimenting your skin and hair.

"Your Grace, it is ill-fated to look upon the face of death," Maester Orwyle warned.

"That is not the face of death, Maester. That is my wife," Aegon spoke, "Leave me with her."

Maester Orwyle and the Silent Sisters bowed before leaving the King with your body. He softly stroked the hair from your face as he broke into sobs once again.

"I am so sorry, my love," he cried, "I-I should have been there to protect you. And our son." Maester Orwyle had informed His Grace that the child you carried was a prince, a perfect heir, "You truly would have been the most wonderful mother. You were already a perfect wife and Queen. Motherhood would have come naturally."

Aegon recounted how well you did with Rhaenyra's last two babies, the ones she had with his uncle Daemon. As much as he did not care for his half-sister, he knew you did. Always quick to defend her, even against your own family. So, he was forced to ask himself, how could she do this to you? To your child?

"They will pay for what they have done," your husband muttered to you, "I will win this war. I will win it for our child. I will win it for you. With fire and blood. Your sacrifice will not be for naught, my Queen."

[friendrat]

Ok, so my situation is very different from Bruce Wayne... losing your twin before birth and seeing your parents murdered are very different kinds of trauma. But growing up when I did, there was absolutely no blip on the mental health radar that a baby could experience lifelong trauma in the womb. It's *still* barely a blip on the radar. I have literally talked to others like me who have had therapists refuse to treat them *within the past 2-3 years* because the therapists do not believe that that type of trauma exists.

So yes, our perception of trauma and our understanding of how kids process it and how best to help them through it is still changing.

It's not fair at all to judge Alfred for not taking Bruce to therapy that didn't exist. Alfred did an awesome job raising Bruce, and if you don't believe that, just look at the fact that every single one of the Batkids will drop everything at a moments notice for him. He's literally the heart that holds them all together.

every time i see a post talking about how alfred pennyworth failed bruce for not getting him into therapy as a kid i want to scream.

it did not exist. the idea that children could have PTSD was just starting to be discussed in the late 80s/early 90s at the FRINGE of child psychology, and then trauma therapy even for adults spent an unhelpful 2ish decades dominated by forced-conversation talk therapy. that's a thing that is detrimental to trauma recovery, because if someone doesn't feel safe or in control of the dialogue about their trauma and is repeatedly asked to describe their trauma when they're uneasy, it COMPOUNDS TRAUMA AND FEELINGS OF DANGER.

when bruce was a kid, even the best psychs available would have had training that taught them kids bounce back, that kids don't respond to or handle trauma the way adults do, and that any behaviors post-trauma were almost certainly unrelated mental illness.

i see this esp in fandom circles but a gentle reminder that therapy even when it's good doesn't fix everything. even if bruce had HAD access to good childhood PTSD therapy, he would still have grief, he would still potentially be socially awkward or withdrawn, he might have still decided to be Batman because it's a comic book where being a vigilante isn't as wild as it is irl.

therapy requires honesty, readiness, safety, sound application of theory, an accurate picture of life outside the therapy room (self-reporting is often flawed!), consistency, and more! it can help but it doesn't erase trauma or grief. it's dismissive of the history of trauma therapy to say an adult "should have" had a kid in a therapy approach that didn't exist, and it's dismissive of the actual work of therapy to act like therapy would have made everything ideal. bruce isn't going to be a normal, well-adjusted adult because his parents were murdered in front of him. he could be happy! he could have coping skills! but honestly it would be weirder if he didn't wrestle with residual trauma and grief throughout his life.

and maybe this is just because i love Batman, and love specifically Batman as a symbol/figure of hope and sacrifice and the belief that every life matters, but I don't think the worst ending here is Bruce deciding to give up a lot of his time, energy, and health to work in Gotham AND then choose to parent a traumatized child and actively meet his needs. like you think the alternative is that Alfred is a better parent by getting him into non-existent therapy and then he stays comfortably wealthy at home and is just another rich dude? that's the ideal version? the one who can't help Dick Grayson because Dick Grayson wants to run away and murder a man?

anyway tl;dr alfred should have flaws, yes, but there's a big gap between "flawed human parental figure" and "man who massively failed Bruce in multiple ways, one of which was not putting him in therapy."

[rainydayathogwarts]

Have a taste - Emily Prentiss

Summary: when you explain to emily how one of your exes loved giving you head, she decided that she needs to have a taste warnings: SMUT, oral (r!receiving), face sitting, fwb(?) 1.5k+ wc

Girl's night was missing two crucial members this week, leaving you alone with Emily in her vast living room, staring out her window wall and peering into the night skyline with twin glasses of wine. You were perched on her cloud white sofa, a comfortable silence between you as you delved into each other's personal lives. Clad in soft hello kitty shorts and a mismatching graphic tee, you glanced at Emily, who wore a similarly styled outfit to you, as you asked her the next question.

Somehow, girl's night always found a path towards sex-related conversations, whether is be the dimmed lights in Emily's apartment or your chronic nosiness. Tonight was no different. "Do you prefer sex with men or women?" You inquired, leaning closer to her. To nobody's surprise, Emily had dabbled with both, and would continue to do so for as long as she liked. "Depends on the mood I'm in. Sometimes I want a masculine man to pound into me until sunrise-" She paused at your tipsy giggle, grinning widely before continuing "But otherwise I think I mostly gravitate towards women. They're hot." Another laugh bubbled in your chest at her statement, muttering a joking "Thank you" with a shrug of your shoulders.

Emily downed the rest of her glass of wine before reaching for the bottle again. "Okay, best head you ever got?" She asked blatantly. You hummed, leaning down to put your glass of wine on her coffee table, clapping your hands together. "I dated a guy who was in a band for a while." Emily 'Ooh'ed, tucking her legs under her to make herself more comfortable. "He had this whole look with the messy hair, like nose ring and tattoos going up arms and on the back of his neck. He had an obsession, I think. Could literally wake up on his days off, roll over, and spend hours between my legs. Cooking dinner? Put me on the counter and spread my legs wide open. Checking myself out in the mirror? Got down on his knees behind me and got to work."

"You're lying to me." Emily's reaction was priceless, with her jaw slack, hand frozen around the bottle of wine as she listened to you talk about your ex. When you shook your head with a smile, eyes glinting with mischief, she added

"Well I've got to have me a taste of that pussy."

"Go for it honestly."

She'd meant it as a joke, she really did. A 'oh watch out I like women' type of thing, referring to the straight girls deathly afraid of their queer friends. But now, watching as you shrugged your shoulders carelessly with a chuckle, offering for her to get between your legs and taste what you had to offer, she completely froze.

"I thought you were straight."

"I don't really discriminate between men and women."

"I thought you've never gotten with a girl before."

"I haven't. Doesn't mean I won't."

"So... you'd let me eat you out?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

"Are you fucking with me?"

At the shake of your head, Emily put the bottle of wine on the table alongside your glass, crawling over to where you sat on the end of the couch. Emily only stopped when your knees were touching, watching as you consciously straightened up, eyes staring into hers as you worriedly bit down on your bottom lip. "Can I kiss you first?" You nodded, hands falling to Emily's waist as hers went to cup your jaw, leaning in until her lips were grazing yours. She finally pulled you closer so her lips pressed against yours, your mouth falling open to let her slither her tongue in, meeting yours in a passionate dance. Emily expertly took over the kiss, her tongue dominating yours so she could explore your mouth, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to keep you close to her.

Both your hands came up to Emily's chest, pushing her away softly so you could catch your breath, panting softly. If Emily wanted to ease into the act by kissing you, you didn't have a problem with it. You just weren't expecting that. "Okay, let me have a taste then." She spoke again, eyes running over your body. Your nipples were hard, harder than they had been mere moments ago, but she assumed that she just hadn't noticed it before, her senses heightened by her arousal. She had to resist the urge to reach out to pinch them, instead helping you pull your shorts and panties off when you lifted your hips up for her.

"It's probably nothing special." You mumbled, letting Emily guide you so you were leaning back against some pillows, still allowing you a clear view of the woman's movements. Emily scoffed in amusement, laying down in front of you before shuffling forwards until she was close enough to lick your awaiting cunt. She couldn't believe how one question had led to this. The dim lights of her penthouse almost hid the shine of arousal against your skin, but she ran a finger up your slit, collecting your juices before cockily saying "I'll be the judge of that." Emily inhaled deeply, taking in your scent before finally delving into your pussy, arms hooking around your thighs to control their movement.

A moan was immediately heard when Emily ran her tongue up your slit, pushing your puffy lips apart from each other due to the pressure she was applying. You think the moan came from the both of you. "Fuck me." You heard Emily whisper, the movement of her lips against your skin tickling you slightly. Then, she was back to licking, tasting your juices and pressing hard against your clit with her tongue. Your toes curled slightly, hips bucking when your clit sent little shocks of pleasure up your body. Emily grunted, pushing your thighs apart to get more space between them, separating from you slightly so she could spit directly onto your pussy, emitting a loud gasp from you.

Her fingers were on you then, massaging her saliva onto your clit before she latched on again, this time sucking on the sensitive nub. You keened loudly, hands instantly securing in her brown hair as your thighs instinctively tried shutting around her head. Emily allowed it this time, nails making little crescents on the skin at the top of your thighs as she tried getting impossibly closer to your cunt, messily making out with it as she alternated between sucking on your clit and thrusting her tongue into your entrance.

You were convinced she would suffocate just then.

Alas, Emily suddenly pulled away from you, her mouth and chin wet from your arousal as she begged. "I need more. Sit on my face." Your eyes widened at her suggestion, beginning to shake your head as you mutter "I've never-" But she was already frantically tugging your t-shirt off and laying down on her back, hands on your thighs guiding you to mount her. You found yourself letting her direct you over her face, grabbing at the arm of the couch as you tried slowly lowering yourself onto her. Emily wasn't having any of that though, hands on your hips aggressively pulling you down on her face so her nose instantly hit your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

Changing her technique, Emily thrusted her tongue into your hole repeatedly, hands dragging you back and forth on her face, encouraging you to grind down on her. That's what you did, letting the woman sloppily tongue at your cunt while she reached up for your tits, immediately tweaking your nipples between your fingers. She groped your tits with purpose, alternating between massaging the fat of your breasts and pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples until you were panting, eyebrows scrunching up while telling her "'M so close. So close Em." Your words encouraged her to go faster, one hand falling from your breast to your hip so she could drag you where she wanted you, lips immediately closing around your clit to suck harshly.

Emily's hand immediately returned to groping your tit, and paired with the aggressive pleasure on your clit, she immediately had you coming, legs closing around her head while you came down from your high. Emily continued lapping at your pussy, hands dropping to rest on your ass where she rubbed your skin gently until you were bucking your hips away from her, whispering "Em, 's too much."

The girl finally stopped, slowly helping you un-straddle her face. She sat up next to you on the couch, arm wrapping around your waist while she leaned in close to you, asking delicately "Was that okay for you?" You nodded, turning your head before leaning into her slightly, staring at her lips. Emily grinned, pecking your lips gingerly before stating "I am a whole mess over here." You chuckled, grabbing tissues from the table to start wiping your juices off her face when she stopped you, adding playfully "And by the way, sweetest pussy I've ever tasted."

[friendrat]

My son just said that my sister gave her strength so that I could survive. I'm normal about this. It's actually a feeling that resonates with me a lot. I know some vts survivors feel like they somehow killed their twin or that they are otherwise responsible, and I had those feelings too at first, but I know that I would have willingly given my life for hers, so the idea that she was also willing to give her life for me has a small measure of comfort.

[storiesoflilies]

in your peach blush dreams

synopsis : in which sukuna unexpectedly stumbles upon something – or rather, someone – he almost never believed could exist. w.c: 2.7k.

pairing : soulmate!florist!sukuna x f!reader

warnings : FLUFF! non curse au. adorably grumpy sukuna who only pretends he doesn’t believe in love or soulmates.

a/n : based on this request. hope you enjoy nonie!! @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @gothsuguru @bungalowbear @hiraethwrote , i hope you love your cameos <3

divider / ao3

ryomen sukuna was a skeptic.

point. cut. blank.

anybody who knew him knew it well.

he didn’t believe in ghosts, poltergeists, or any of the things that cry and go bump in the night. there was always a logical explanation for everything and anything that happened outside the realm of normalcy. the world was ruled by physics and chemistry and numbers, and even though he was a florist, sukuna understood and wholeheartedly accepted the beauty of science.

however, there was one teeny, tiny thing that completely – and rather rudely – disregarded all of his beliefs.

and it was only a little dream.

one that he had been having since he was old enough to remember things.

sukuna couldn’t remember if there were before this particular one started, or even if any occurred after it. but he always remembered how he knew it was coming – the way his stomach would churn and lurch, like he was being catapulted from a cannon, free-falling through a black expanse of space and time and stars.

and then, sukuna would land face-first into a field of marshmallow-soft petals, bathed in the light of a pink sunrise.

at first, he didn’t know what sort of flowers had cushioned his fall. it took him quite a number years to even attempt sketching them, using a cheap set of coloring pencils he’d bought with his pocket money. and even, not a single person he showed his scratchings to had any clue at all.

it frustrated him to no end.

sukuna would always end up crumpling his drawings in his little fists and hurling them straight into the bin.

and try again.

and again.

it wasn’t until he was sixteen that he finally found the answer he had been looking for.

sukuna had just gotten a job working part-time at a flower shop after school. at first, the thought of being there was beyond humiliating. his twin brother had relentlessly teased him about it when he found out, which quickly resulted in a flurry of knuckles and fists.

he arrived to his first shift with a sour look and a black eye.

io, the shop owner at the time, gave him a humorous look with soft, chocolate eyes and taught him how to speak the language that only flowers knew. how to listen to the soft poetry held within the curl of their leaves and petals, telling you everything they needed to bloom.

in time, sukuna learned to enjoy it.

but he would never admit it to anyone.

one day, the shop received a rather large delivery of frighteningly familiar baby pink flowers. sukuna froze, his hands slippery and wet from the water droplets falling from the stems.

“what are those?” he’d gritted out, disbelief coated on his cracked lips.

io took one glance at the flowers in his grip, and answered, “oh, they’re zinnia flowers.”

zinnia flowers.

he whispered under his breath, testing how the letters rolled over and under his tongue.

after all this time, the answer to the mystery flower was finally in his palm, and sukuna couldn’t decide whether or not he felt relieved or disturbed about it.

all he could muster in response was, “right.”

io stared at him, and a young sukuna felt himself shrink a little under her gaze, his cheeks blossoming a brilliant red shade like the david austin roses beside him. he pretended to ignore her, distracting himself by placing bunches of flowers into water buckets and slowly, meticulously, arranging every single stem beautifully in the display window.

sukuna hated every second of it.

he felt like every single pink petal on those flowers were mocking him, laughing at him for being so wound up over them.

it was so unbelievably pathetic.

he’d never felt more like a loser in his whole life.

because despite all his beliefs about the supernatural and a higher power, he couldn’t hate those flowers even if he tried to, not really.

because they were hers.

the other person already sitting there in his dreams in an endless field of zinnia blooms.

she wouldn’t notice him straight away, even though sukuna crash-landed in a heap just beside her leg. she was too busy staring up at the clouds painted in strokes and swirls of blushing pink, with the sun bleeding in tones of vibrant peach. all he could notice was how her lips were parted in wonder as she took everything in around her with a wondrous energy.

it was only when he pushed himself up to sit beside her that she finally noticed him.

and laughed.

and it was the most beautiful thing sukuna had ever heard in his life.

it was joyously infectious, and he couldn’t help his own laughter from bubbling up from deep within his chest like a volcano. they laughed together for what seemed like hours, the limits of time stretching on forever in the land of dreams, and sukuna felt the angry fire in his soul simmer just a little.

and he would become sad.

because he knew this was when the dream would always end.

he’d open his bloodstained eyes to the dreadfully familiar, dull white ceiling that belonged to his bedroom, and sukuna would know he was back at square one all over again.

feeling alone.

so unbearably alone.

because the dream would still linger in those precious few minutes after he woke up, a ghost hovering over a gray sea. sukuna could feel the other half of his soul slipping away to wherever she belonged to in this vast world, and he would selfishly claw for her, begging and screaming in his mind.

don’t go! don’t go! don’t go!

sukuna wasn’t stupid; he knew she couldn’t stay, but that didn’t stop a bitter taste from spreading over his tongue like a drop of lemon juice.

it twisted him inside, and he hated the universe for making him yearn so deeply for someone he had never even met.

and might never.

it didn’t take long for io to catch on. she was always acutely aware of people, and to be known by her was to always be seen and understood.

“they scare you, don’t they?” io murmured to him gently, too gently for sukuna’s liking. “the zinnias.”

he snorted dismissively, cutting perfect forty-five degree angles into the stems of snow peonies. “i am not afraid of a fucking flower, io.”

she arched a brow, unimpressed. “no?”

“no.”

“are you sure?”

sukuna huffed and rolled his eyes, adding tufts of baby’s breath to the bouquet he was assembling. io leaned over the birch countertop, her wrists adorned with various pink ribbons and a playful twinkle in her eyes.

“i know what it is,” she said in a sing-song voice, drumming her nails against the wood.

he ignored her again, a blooming pink starting to grace the tips of his ears, and busied himself wrapping a brown piece of paper around his finished piece.

“what?”

she didn’t answer, cryptically singing about knowing things and of a man she would know one day come to know, with hair as white as the peonies in sukuna’s bouquet and eyes brighter than bluebells. it was only five years to the day, when io married that very man she had been singing about, that he realized she had known all along what had been on his mind.

and now, at the tender age of twenty-one, ryomen sukuna wondered when it would be his turn to love.

and be loved in return.

❀᭢᜴꤬

when she was a child, she used to love drawing.

and the thing she loved to draw most was him.

the boy she saw in her dreams. they weren’t very good drawings – just two stick figures holding each other’s circles for hands, one with bright fuchsia hair because that was the closest color she had in her pencil kit. they would be standing in a field of flowers too, though the blooms were just colorful blobs scattered around their stick feet.

“not it!” she’d exclaim, pouting pitifully. “not what he looks like!”

her two best friends, kairo and ari, shuffled through their pencil cases, offering her shade after shade of pink pencils, but she shook her head at them each time. after a while, she would start to wail, despair clutching her little heart in its claws. her friends would put their arms around her, offering her all the trinkets and sweets they had in their pockets, just to see her smile again.

but they couldn’t understand how she really felt, how lonely she was sometimes, because they had already completed their souls.

ari had their kenjaku – their kenny.

and kairo had her suguru.

they had found their souls at such a young age and would never know just how much of the rest of the world felt for most, if not all, of their lives. they always had someone to watch over them. even now, the two twin boys were staring at them, gauging whether they would also burst into tears alongside her, ready to step in and make them smile again.

that was all she wanted, really.

for the pink-haired boy in her dreams to make her smile when she needed it.

as she grew that little bit older, her dream became more vivid. she could remember more details – how the sky was aflame in peach and coral, the sweet smell of the flowers beneath her, and how her boy would land next to her. she could even feel how much it was him that needed to smile.

so she laughed.

and laughed and laughed until he did too.

she wished she could stay there in that dream with him and make him laugh forever.

but she couldn’t do that.

in his sadness, there was strength too – something unyielding, strong enough to bring mountains to their knees. it told her to stay strong, to be like him, to keep her chin up and tell the world that she would live.

so she did.

she went on with her life, making sure to laugh often and well.

she grew up witnessing and being surrounded by love. high school and university presented their own challenges, filled with late-night cramming sessions and caffeine-induced hazes. she watched more and more of the friends find their souls, pairing off in effortless harmony while she lingered on in the stardust of their love.

but she still continued to live.

still kept an eye out for a particular head of pink hair wherever she went.

and now that she was done school, entering the big, bad world of work, her heart longed all the more for the boy from her dreams – who no longer looked like a boy at all.

he was a beautiful man now.

with dark tattoos etched into skin, mysterious lines and circles that perhaps told the story of his life. she wanted to know all about them, if they even meant anything to him at all, and if they were a angry shield to protect himself from people getting too close.

she hoped it wasn’t.

she didn’t want to be one of those left locked out.

“you’ll find him,” jess said encouragingly to her one day, as she was lost in a daydream of pink flower fields.

jess always knew when she was there.

she hummed softly, chewing on the plain cheese sandwhich she’d brought for her lunch break.

“so,” jess began, in an effort to distract her. “any nice plans for your time off?”

“uh, yeah actually. my best friend is getting married, so i’ll be helping her out this week to get everything ready.”

“oh, that sounds really nice!”

then, nanami kento walked into the staff room, his tired eyes brightening at the sight of jess sitting there, happily munching on the lunch he had no doubt prepared for her that morning. her friend sighed wistfully, a fond smile on her face as the blonde man took a seat beside her.

suddenly, there were two and a half souls in the room.

and she couldn’t help but smile, hoping that her time was coming.

it had to be.

❀᭢᜴꤬

“hea, do we have any lilies in the back? i need them.”

sukuna took another quick glance at the behemoth of a man in front of him, who shifted from one foot to the other, his green eyes darting all around the shop.

“urgently.”

“just a sec!”

the shop was silent for a moment, with only the sound of the fan blowing and the soft snip, snip, snip of sukuna trimming zinnia stems. he looked up again at customer, raising an eyebrow at how nervous the poor man looked while waiting.

“we have these white roses here,” sukuna suggested, pointing with his scissors at a small bunch. “in case we don’t have any white lilies.”

the man shook his head. “no, no. they have to be lilies. her name is lily.”

sukuna might have once laughed, but it was the way the man said her name with a hushed sort of reverence – and the tip of a velvet box peeping out from his trousers – that he understood who she really was to him.

so sukuna didn’t laugh.

“it’s really important,” he added, dark locks sticking to his forehead, as if that alone would convince the grumpy florist.

sukuna sighed, setting down his scissors and wiping his hands on his shirt. “i’ll see what i can do for you.”

so he went to the back himself, assembling a bouquet of white lilies, adding white pampas grass for flair and eucalyptus for softness. sukuna spent quite a bit of time on it – more than he probably should have – fluffing and adjusting every petal and leaf until it was absolutely perfect.

it was worth the effort.

the man’s palpable relief was infectious, making the corner of sukuna’s lips twitch upwards.

“keep your money,” he grunted, his nose slightly turned up. “just come back here to get what you need for the wedding.”

the bell at the front door tinkled in farewell as the man left, and sukuna picked up where he left off. there was a bridal party order for tomorrow, and of course, he was in charge of creating the bride’s bouquet.

sukuna always was.

“hea!” he called out. “if you need a hand with the bridesmaids’ bouquets let me know. i’m almost done here.”

the doorbell tinkled.

but he wasn’t looking up.

“i’m good!” hea answered back, her voice faint.

sukuna clicked his tongue disapprovingly, not liking the shade of ribbon he was holding against the peach-colored zinnia in the bouquet. he dipped down behind the counter, arms stretched above him and fingers drumming on the wood as he scanned through the mess of ribbons and other decorations tucked away in small cubicles.

hmph! nothing.

sukuna pushed himself back up.

and there she was.

staring at all the shades of pretty pink zinnias that sukuna had painstakingly displayed the day before.

his heart actually stuttered.

and before he knew it, he had somehow slipped and landed face down on the ground.

“fuck!”

“oh!”

sukuna pushed himself back up, stumbling like a newborn foal, his eyes completely and utterly fixed on her while a poor zinnia lay crushed beneath his foot.

but that didn’t matter in the slightest.

because holy good god, she was looking at him too.

with her pretty lips parted in shock, and her pretty eyes wide and glossy, and her pretty hair looking exactly like it did in his – no, their – dream.

she’s here. she’s here. she’s here.

“i’m here for the bridal flowers for kairo!” she blurted out suddenly.

sukuna inhaled sharply.

what a pretty voice.

“t-that’s– ahem – not due until tomorrow,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.

her eyes widened a fraction more, if that was even possible. then, her features completely relaxed as she tipped her head back and laughed.

and laughed.

sukuna felt like he was back in his dream again.

only it was real this time – more real than anything.

he chuckled lowly, his laughter rising like helium, melding with hers in a gloriously wonderful crescendo.

and all sukuna could think of was.

finally.

i love you, i love you, i love you.

❀᭢᜴꤬

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[avocado-writing]

pairing: logan howlett x afab!reader. 18+, minors dni. fluff; smut (p in v unprotected sex; heavy breeding kink; creampie; oral - reader receiving). canonically bisexual reader. dp+w movie spoilers.

synopsis: you and logan have a pretty happy life… but there’s still something you want.

words: 10k.

notes: part 2 of say you’ll remember me. you don’t have to read it for this part but it is referenced. thank you @eupheme for being my beta, and for the use of the dividers!

Logan wakes to the twinned warmth of the sunrise and you curled around him like a cat. 

You’ve always been attracted to the way he runs hot, a creature of habit in any timeline. A magnet seeking him out even when asleep; you are pretty much a permanent fixture by his side when the weather is a little too chilly. Not that he’s complaining - he loves to sling an arm around you and feel you snuggle into him. Loves to keep you close. 

It’s nice, honestly; Logan has more good days than bad ones now. He never thought he’d get to see that again. Sometimes things get rough, sure, recovery is not a straight line - but you’re there with him on every step of that journey and he’s more thankful for that than he can ever express. You’re a grounding rod keeping the storm of his life in check. 

You intuit that he’s awake, something between you innately connected, and you begin to stir, body brushing up against his. He sleeps naked, usually running too hot to bother with any kind of pyjamas, and you’ve started sleeping shirtless too. Maybe it’s because he makes the bed too warm to stomach wearing one, or maybe it’s just because you like to feel his naked chest up against yours - either way he isn’t complaining. 

You stretch, arching yourself into his flank, blink open your eyes slowly. Smile when you find him looking down at you with soft, hazy, early-morning features. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, voice rocky. You reach up to kiss him, as is the way you usually like to start your day. It doesn’t take long for the chaste peck to become something more: the gentle parting of lips, slipping out the pink tip of your tongue to meet his. His body stirs. He can practically smell the way your blood pumps faster, pooling at the apex of your legs. 

“It’s so early,” you faux-harrumph when you run your hand towards his cock and find it hardening. How can you blame him when you’re so fucking sexy? Logan hums, manoeuvring you both so that he can look down at your sweet face as you lie surrounded in cotton sheets. 

“Then stay right there, baby.”

He kisses a sleepy, loving trail down your clavicle; luxuriating along the plain of your chest, nipping at your soft stomach in a way which beckons a breathy chuckle from you, steeped in the gravelly tones of morning. 

“Mmm, Mr Howlett, you are an incorrigible fiend.”

“Incorrigible, huh? Big word for someone who says they’re so sleepy…” he mutters, smirk ticking up the side of his mouth as his calloused fingers dip under the waistband of your pyjama shorts. 

“Incorrigible. Insatiable, even.”

He drags them down your legs, slowly, taking in the sight of you bathed in the dawn’s roseate light. You move your hips to let him. 

“Hmm. You complaining?”

“Oh, never.”

He grins and gets to work.

Logan loves the tang of you on his tongue. You’re still a little sticky from last night, where he pushed you chest-down into the mattress and fucked you so hard he was slightly worried he’d break the bed frame. He didn’t - but he’s perfectly happy to try again. 

You let out a fluttery little breath, butterfly light, as he starts his work properly. Burying his face in your cunt, letting every sense be drowned in you. He drags his tongue along your needy folds and you groan above him, hooking a leg over his shoulder and sinking your heel into the thick muscles of his back. He could listen to the noises you make for hours, a little symphony just for him. 

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, blissful and light-headed. He lets his mouth focus on your clit as he presses a couple of fingers inside. It’s an easy intrusion, your pussy offering up no resistance, a mix of spit and slick aiding him. He starts to crook them in a beckon and the mewl you let out will stay with him for the rest of the day; he smiles against your cunt. 

“That’s it, baby,” you groan. Fuck. He loves your voice when he’s making you come. Would do whatever you tell him to, just point him in a direction and he’ll follow. He is so utterly at your beck and call, a dog at your feet, so happy to obey. Anything for you, anything. 

He speeds up his pace, hand fucking you in a simulation of his cock last night, tongue pressing hard and flat against your folds. You come in a flood all over his mouth, soaking his beard and dripping off his chin. His favourite fucking flavour. All the furniture in the room jolts as you send out a telekinetic wave of force, knocking over a lamp onto the carpet with a dull thud. 

“That damn lamp, we need to move it…” you grumble. Logan kisses your thigh gently. 

“Baby, if the fuckin’ lamp doesn’t fall over, I’m not doing my job right.”

You laugh. There’s a pearlescent sheen of sweat that’s broken out over your body but you’re giddy and joyful. An arm slung over your eyes does nothing to hide the smile on your face, so wide it must hurt your cheeks. Yeah. He’s done good. 

“Let’s go shower,” you say, in a way which he’d never dream of arguing with. You walk naked into the bathroom and pull him under the hot stream of water with you. The room slowly fills up with steam and Logan presses you up against the tiled wall, burying his face in the warm space between your neck and your shoulder as he sheathes himself inside. You drag your nails down his back and he growls in your ear, slowly pumping his hips to bring you over the edge again. 

Ever since that first morning that the two of you were intimate, you’ve been wild for each other; unable to go a day without keeping your hands away. Like teenagers who haven’t understood the concept of pacing themselves. He wants to be drunk on you all the time, always wants your gasps filling his ears, his name dripping from your lips as he makes you come. 

He knows he’s the only man for you… but hey, nothing wrong with proving it too. 

You spend a leisurely forty minutes in the shower with your back against the wall and your legs around his waist, then eventually do what you meant to and clean up. He loves to watch you wash, smell the perfumes of all the soaps you use. You look adorable with suds in your hair. Plus when you ask him to get your back with the loofah it’s just another excuse to touch you and god knows he loves doing that. 

He’s a man content when you finally return to the bedroom. 

Logan watches you pad about and do your morning routine, one he knows like the back of his hand by now. Once again: you’re a creature of habit. Pointing to the radio you use your powers to turn it onto the only channel the two of you ever listen to: an ‘oldies’ station which never plays a song made post ‘89– 

—he remembers a few weeks ago when you were both visiting Wade, chatting about how bad songs are nowadays, and your friend had challenged you: “okay you two geriatric lovebirds, no conferring - when was the last good decade for music?” Without missing a beat you’d both answered “the eighties” and, as Wade groaned at how ‘cringe’ you both were, Logan had fallen in love with you yet again— 

—and you smile and turn it up when Aretha’s I Say A Little Prayer starts playing. Logan watches fondly as you croon out the chorus, using the hairdryer you’re plugging in as a microphone. He loves watching you sing. You don’t always hit all the notes but that’s not really the point - the point is he gets to see you be silly and vulnerable and totally and utterly yourself in these moments, something he knows to hold dear to his heart. 

If you’re singing, you’re happy. 

Fuck, he loves you. 

The two of you get yourselves ready for the day to the music which fills the room, quietly happy in each other’s company. The sound of people getting ready for the day starts up in the hallway; kids coming down for breakfast and squeaking their sneakers on the hardwood, other professors grousing about lesson plans - unfortunately it's time to break the cocoon of solitude the two of you have made for yourselves and face the morning properly. 

“What’re we doing today?”

He squints at the calendar to try and make out your handwriting, attempting to ignore the gaze of the “hot bisexual lumberjack” of the month staring out at him with her barely contained breasts and suggestively placed axe (this had been your birthday present from Wade, and you’d loved it). You tut at him. 

“Logan Howlett, we need to get you some glasses,” you say, pulling on your own and pressing your finger to today’s date, reading out the scribbled ballpoint. “Let’s see… we’re both teaching until five, then looks like there’s a Flames game in the evening you wanna watch. I, however, have been cornered tonight: the girls found out I’ve never seen the Barbie movie so apparently they need to correct that - though I ask you, when I was living in a place literally called the Void, when I would have gotten the damn chance. People weren’t just throwing copies of that thing away. Apparently it’s a great movie.”

‘The girls’. The comfortable nickname you’ve assigned the trio of Laura, Ellie, and Yukio. Logan’s glad Laura has managed to find her people with them - he was secretly worried that, if she took after him too much, she’d be a little too stubborn to make friends at all. Nothing to worry about though. She’s thriving here, and he’s relieved. Happy, even. 

“You’ve not seen Barbie?” Logan asks. You’ve moved to the boudoir now and pause as you apply your face cream, bottle floating in the air centimetres from your neglected skin. 

“Wait, you have seen Barbie?”

He shrugs. Yeah. He doesn’t remember the context, he’d had two full bottles of whiskey by then - but for some reason they’d put it on at the bar he was drowning himself at and he’d sat through the whole thing, leaving a smear of pink on his memory. 

You blink, still gobsmacked. 

“Did you like it?”

Logan considers this for a moment, knowing you’ll call him grumpy if he’s too critical, but also sure you’ll never ever stop teasing him if he praises it. Oh, and god forbid Wade ever finds out…

After a long moment he settles on, “it was alright.”

You shrug, happy with this assessment. 

“Well, good. Guess I’m in for a good evening then.” You stand up with gusto, the indication you’re ready to leave. “Shall we?”

The two of you walk to the door, taking a moment when Logan pulls you into an embrace - your back to his front. You look in the mirror, admiring the couple you see in the reflection, something you do every morning without fail.

“I love you, Logan Howlett,” you say. He drops a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I love you too.”

And with that, the day begins. 

Teaching is a very broad term for what he does. Basically, it’s his job to help the older students with self defence. Every day he goes to get the shit beaten out of him by a load of kids but it’s also the best workout he’s had in over a decade, so he doesn’t mind too much. Keeps him in shape, keeps him sharp. Plus he feels like he’s actually doing something helpful, finally adding to the world rather than just being a burden on it. He spends the first period running battle formations with them, keeping them on their feet and quick to react. Can’t have them getting in danger, not when he’s around.

The class takes a break to get water and he finds himself staring out the window, smiling fondly to himself when he sees you leading a little seminar. After you spent all that time in the wild and then the Void, one of the things they have you teaching is survival skills - you’re a dab hand at getting by just with what you can forage. Looks like you’re going to do some practical exercises as he can see you leading a group of the younger kids towards the forest which surrounds the mansion.

Something happens which makes his heart ache. 

There’s a kid by your side you’re in animated conversation with, probably no more than seven or eight, and they’re looking at you like you hung the stars - just absolutely enchanted with how cool you are. Without thinking they slip their hand into yours for support or guidance or comfort, one of the three anyway, and after a beat you give them a smile. 

In that beat, even from this distance, Logan can see the bittersweet look on your face. The longing. You would wear parenthood well and it’s not fair that you never got a chance to experience it firsthand. It’s a sadness which weaves its way into his guts and stabs him there, an old kind of pain, one he felt for you in his own timeline.

Logan wonders if it’s too late. Are the two of you too old now? Would you both be too hurt if you tried and it didn’t take again? He wants to give you what you want, desperately, but he’ll be damned if he’d ever do anything to upset you; he can’t shake the feeling that’s where that road would lead.

“You okay?”

Laura’s voice makes him jump. She’s a quiet little devil, that’s for certain, definitely not something she got from him - all blades and bluster in his youth. He nods because he doesn’t really want to get into detail about his private life with his pseudo-daughter. 

But unfortunately she’s smart, and his eyes linger, so it's only a matter of her following his gaze to see what’s got him pining. She smiles a small, comforting smile. 

“If there’s a problem you should just talk to them. They’ll listen.”

He harrumphs at the fact a girl less than one-tenth of his age is giving him life advice but also knows that what she says is true. He doesn’t address what she’s said, instead cocking his head at the training mats. 

“C’mon, back to it.”

Laura groans and returns to throwing her classmates across the room.

The thought stays with him for the rest of the day though. After class, when he returns to your shared rooms and starts to get himself set up to watch the game, he finds himself thinking about you with a baby in your arms. A mix of him and you with soft skin and excitement for the world. His eyes, your smile, a perfect combination.

And you’d be so happy. 

Fuck. He’s too old to get broody but here he is, huh.

Logan sits heavily in his recliner, the one nice purchase he’s allowed for himself since getting this job, and opens a root beer. TV remote in his hand he switches on the hockey and settles in for the evening. 

After about twenty minutes his phone goes. He frowns, opening up a text from Laura.

there’s some Pringles in the kitchen can u get them for us please the love of ur life is hungry

Logan sighs and replies, thumbs slow and unfamiliar on a touchscreen. 

all of you have legs. get them yourself

Another message immediately: It’s a picture. You’re busy painting Yukio’s nails bright pink, glasses on the end of your nose and concentration on your face - but half torn between the task at hand and watching the movie you’ve been sequestered for. You look cute. Logan stares for a moment and then saves the photo to his phone. All his albums are just pictures of you at this point. 

Plssssss

is the final text in the chain. Logan definitively puts his phone away. He’s watching the game. He’s not going to get out of this chair to grab a tube of fucking Pringles, he’s not whipped. 

A moment. 

He groans.

Fine.

He gets out of the chair. He’s whipped. 

He heads to the kitchen and gets the requested snack, Hank giving him a knowing and sympathetic smile as they pass in the hallway. He finds you in the lounge, surrounded by girls. Clearly the news of the Barbie watch had gotten out and created a swarm because dozens of eyes look up at him as he lingers in the doorway like a giant awkward dog.

Finally you pull your eyes away from Ryan Gosling’s chest long enough to see why everyone has turned. When you spot him you light up.

“Oh! How did you know I wanted Pringles? Been craving those bad boys recently.”

“Lucky guess,” he replies, stepping carefully between pink dressing gowns and well-thumbed gossip magazines to pass them to you. When he’s within range you drop a kiss on his lips too, prompting an “oooooo” from the gathered crowd. You roll your eyes at them but smile at Logan.

“Thank you baby. What’d I do without you?”

He grumbles something non-committal under his breath and retreats, ignoring the shit-eating grin Laura is flinging his way. Eventually the crowd turns back to the movie. He tries to resist the urge to stand in the doorway with his arms crossed and watch along, the stereotypical father figure who insists he’s not interested, but finds himself lingering for a moment anyway just to see you.

Ellie has her feet slung across your lap, Yukio blows on her freshly-painted nails to dry them. One of the younger girls who’s been delegated to the floor by her older peers rests her head on your knee as she starts to nod off and you play with her hair for a moment - an action which comes readily to you, like it would to a parent.

Logan decides two things. 

One, he’s going to marry you, and he’s certain that every second that he hasn’t been your husband up until now has been wasted. 

And two, he’s going to put a baby in you, like you deserve.

On the way back he passes Hank again, who has an insanely huge sandwich stuffed onto a far-too-small plate - except this time Logan flags him down with a question, one which his colleague has to consider for a moment.

“Oh! Hmm. Yes, I’m pretty sure that it’s in the garage, sometimes the kids like to see if they can get it working again��” when he sees a scowl settle over Logan’s face he’s quick to add, “but none of them have been successful! I think the keys are in the ignition.”

Logan thanks him and heads back to your rooms, a plan forming in his head. 

You get back late. He’s listening to music and reading the paper, the game having finished long ago - the Flames winning of course, there was no other option, go Flames - the weight of the ring he’s swiped from your boudoir burning a hole in his pocket. He hopes you won’t notice - he needs to get your size, after all, and he knows he can’t ask you without rousing suspicion. 

“Hey,” you say, dropping a kiss on his cheek and yourself into his lap. The paper is discarded as his arm automatically comes to perch on your waist, dragged there as if by a magnet. Can’t not touch you for a second.

“Hey. How was the movie?”

“Yeah, pretty good! You know most of those girls hadn’t seen Legally Blonde? We had to remedy that after Barbie, apparently it’s considered a classic now. Fuck, it makes me feel old.” You groan and drop your forehead to his shoulder.

“You’re not that old,” Logan says, and when you come to fix him with a scathing look you find he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Tease,” you sigh, reaching in to kiss him, but stopping when you hear something on the radio. 

“What’s up?”

“Oh. This used to be our song.”

It’s AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long. It feels strange seeing the way your eyes get a bit hazy, a bit distant for a moment. 

“Good choice.”

“Uh-huh. She… you liked it a lot,” you whisper, for a moment lost in a memory he has no way to share with you. It stings you both. But then you’re back in the room with him, smiling as if nothing had happened. 

“We must have had a song, right? In your universe.”

Is this painful? He isn’t sure. But you shared yours with him, so it seems only fair he make it even. 

“Yeah, we sure did.”

You narrow your eyes, purse your lips playfully.

“I betcha I can guess it.”

He hums. 

“Okay. What’s the bet?”

“If I can’t guess I’ll do that thing you like. If I can guess, you do that thing I like.”

Oh, well, when you put it like that…

“Why not?”

You search his face, reading him for any telltale signs. 

“Mmmm, male singer or female? Or both.”

“I didn’t realise you got clues…”

“It’s not a game if I don’t, is it?”

“Fine. A guy.”

You think for a moment. 

“It was Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n’ Roses.”

Logan widens his eyes, genuinely impressed that you got it so fast…

“Holy shit.”

…But the grin which crosses your face suggests you’re playing a trick. 

“I hear you hum it a lot. It wasn’t a big leap, honestly,” you confess. He chuckles, but pauses for a second as he realises the implication of this discovery. 

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I like that song too.”

You don’t seem saddened by this conversation, so he guesses it’s okay - he’d never wanna hurt you by dredging up the past. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe it’s okay to reminisce about what used to be, while knowing what you have now is so strong and secure. 

Logan pulls back to look at you, attempting to affect seriousness but knowing he could never fool you for a second. 

“So you cheated, huh… doesn’t seem very fair…”

“Hmm, you’re right. I guess I’ll have to forfeit…”

You slide off his thighs and onto your knees in front of him, grinning as you go for his belt… but pausing so that you can use your powers to turn off the radio. 

“Unless you want to come to Brian Johnson’s voice, but it doesn’t do it for me personally.”

He laughs, actually belly laughs, and if the two of you aren’t engaged by the time the week is out he’ll be damned.

He’s able to go to a jeweller’s the next week under the guise of finally going to the city and getting glasses, and buys the perfect ring there and then. It must be fate that they have it in your size, a silver band and pretty stone. The caveat of this is, that for the ruse to work, he does actually also have to go to the opticians.

He comes back with a small pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a chip on his shoulder about the fact they make him see so much better. You seem pleased though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing the bridge of his nose.

“You look very handsome.”

“Mmmm…” he grumbles. You laugh and kiss him again.

“What are you doing today?”

“Workin’ on something.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a secret, can’t tell ya.”

You harrumph.

“A secret, huh…?”

“A surprise, then.”

You sigh dramatically.

“Well, okay. If it’s a surprise I suppose I’ll let it slide. The girls and I were gonna head into town to go shopping anyway so I guess I’ll see you tonight?”

You kiss farewell and when he’s sure you’ve left the manor he heads to the garage. It doesn’t take much searching to find his old Harley, hidden under a dust sheet and waiting patiently for his return. Logan can’t help the smile at the old thing, running his hand along the neglected metal frame and scaring a spider from its perch.

“Sorry I was gone for so long, baby,” he rumbles, then gets to work.

The next few days are tough. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise, but you’re clever, always investigating without meaning to, noticing when he trips up on an inconsistency. So whenever you try and weasel information out of him he simply refuses to answer. You’re grumpy, sure, but he can think of a few ways to make it up to you.

He’s nervous in a way he hasn’t been for… well, a while. He’s sure you’ll say yes. You’ll say yes, right? You’ve already been married once before – to him – so the odds are in his favour, but still, he gets a churning feeling in his stomach when he looks at the little box. Anxiety. He’s far too fucking old to be anxious like a schoolgirl asking out a crush, he feels goddamn ridiculous…

But.

But.

What will he do if you say no?

Ah, he can’t dwell on it for too long. Logan channels all of his effort into fixing up the bike - even allowing Laura to join in when she crosses her heart not to tell you - and plans ahead. Checks the weather. Picks his favourite shirt. 

Takes the plunge.

That morning Logan asks you to prepare a picnic and then meet him outside the manor. You look up at him from the reflection in your boudoir mirror as Carole King floats from the radio, an eyebrow arched.

“Oh? Why?”

“C’mon, I haven’t cracked yet. You think you’re gonna get me now?”

You pout. You’re cute. He drops a kiss on the top of your head.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

“Well-ll-ll… okay. I’ll trust you. Shall I wear those jeans? The ones which make my ass look great?”

“Baby, all jeans make your ass look great. You have a great ass.”

You grin and scurry over to the wardrobe.

He heads downstairs and brings the Harley round front, fingers tapping nervously on the hand clutch as he waits. For the millionth time he checks his pockets. Yep, ring still there. 

As you leave the front door, basket nestled in the crook of your arm, the smile which crosses your face is the same as if you’re seeing an old friend again.

“Oh my god! I had no idea this thing was still kicking around!”

You run the last few steps and put your hand on her chassis. You genuinely look a bit choked up.

“Fixed her up so I could take you for a ride.”

Your expression is so soft, so loving when you look at him.

“Logan… that’s so sweet.”

Stepping forward to press up against him you pull him in for a kiss, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He hums against your lips.

“Put a helmet on,” he says, handing one to you as you stow the basket. You fix him with an old-fashioned look as he presents it to you. It’s bright pink and has Barbie written across the side.

“God damn you Logan Howlett…”

“You liked the damn film. Keep hearing you sing that stupid song to yourself.”

You harrumph but don’t deny it, instead fastening the helmet on and climbing up onto the seat behind him.

It feels good when your arms tighten around him for support. Always feels good when your arms are around him, honestly, no matter what the cause. He revs the engine loudly a couple of times making you giggle, then speeds off.

He feels your fingers tighten in his shirt as he drives, weaving between whatever cars happen to dot the road as he goes. He’s not had a bike between his thighs for years now but you never really forget how to ride one. Besides, with you as his cargo, he makes sure to go safe. When he was a younger man he’d have been pushing the Harley to her limits just to get his blood pumping… nowadays he’s happy to take it slower. The longer the ride, the longer you’re pushed up against him, after all.

He’s still such a sucker for your touch.

It’s a nice day, and when he eventually slows down to the old lookout spot he used to take you to, you grin as you see the familiar view.

“It’s been a long time,” you sigh, eyes sparkling in the sun. You smooth your hair down where the helmet has taken its toll and start to lay out the treats you’ve packed onto a gingham blanket: thick-filled sandwiches, a fruit salad, a whole apple pie which Logan has no idea how you smuggled out. Fuck. He is so lucky to have you.

He sits and forces himself to eat, knowing the ring is hidden away in his pocket. You’re happy to take the lead on the conversation as you always are, chatting about your classes in between bites of roast beef, but cock your head to the side when a period of silence goes on for too long.

“Something’s on your mind.”

“What?” he asks, silently cursing himself for being so obvious. You reach out to rest a hand over his.

“Is there something you wanna talk about, Logan? It’s okay if there is. We can face it together, you know. We’re a team.”

As you let that sink in with him you wave your hand to bring out a thermos from the basket. It pours out two cups of coffee, both black, and you float one over to each of you.

He watches this with sharp eyes.

“You didn’t add any creamer,” he says softly. You smile, using your free hand to lift the cup to your lips.

“What can I say? I guess you got to me.”

You’re finally a coffee purist.

Logan blinks, taking in the sincere look on your face. There is only absolute adoration written there. It is a plain and simple fact: you love him more than he thought anyone could ever love him.

After a beat, he pulls his hand away.

He shifts to one knee.

Your eyes go wide.

“Logan…?”

“I gotta… you gotta let me talk. I need to get this out,” he says, slipping his hand in his pocket to grab the ring box. You cover your mouth in shock. “You’ve made me a better man. And more importantly you make me want to be one. I wanna spend the rest of our lives together because I’d be a goddamn idiot not to.” He opens the hinge and the ring shines where it’s seated in velvet. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh shit,” you say, then you do something unexpected. You throw your head back and laugh. 

Of all the reactions he was not expecting that.

Logan’s hands dip a little. What the fuck? Is this a rejection? Did he screw this up, monumentally misread the signs between the two of you? Are you having some sorta episode? What has happened to prompt this?

“Oh, baby, no - don’t be sad! Just… hang on…” you say when you see how his face has fallen. He watches as you root around in the picnic basket. “You won’t believe this…”

You shift to one knee…

…and pull out a ring box of your own.

Logan’s mouth falls open as you present a ring to him. A plain gold band, shiny and new - one you’ve had made specially for him. 

“I got your size from my Logan’s old ring. I’ve had it for days just waiting for the right moment and… I guess you have too.”

This information settles around him like a deep, sudden snowfall. His eyes can’t leave the little box you’ve pulled out. 

A smile creeps over his face.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, echoing your sentiment from earlier, and then suddenly you’re laughing too, head thrown back in utter joy. You throw yourself into his arms and press kisses all over his face: his beard, the end of his nose, all over his cheekbones, and then finally his mouth. He can feel the tears spill over your eyelashes and dampen his face, and holy fuck is he in love with you.

“So is that a ‘yes’?” he asks against your lips. He can feel your grin under his mouth.

“Depends if it’s a ‘yes’ from you.”

“Of course. I want you to make an honest man of me.”

“Then fuck yeah. I’ll marry you, Logan Howlett.”

Another glorious, effervescent peal of laughter falls from you and then you’re kissing him again. Together your hands fumble in order to exchange rings, a difficult task when neither of you will open your eyes and break lips, but eventually he manages to slide his ring on your finger and feels you exchange your own.

It feels good. It feels right.

Logan pushes you back onto the blanket, picnic forgotten for the moment. His mouth turns from sweet to hungry as he uses his body to cage you in. His hands drop to the hem of your shirt and start to pull it up so he can trace the bared line of your chest. 

“Logan, here?” you ask in a way which suggests here is great, actually. 

“Why not? Nobody watching. Just you and me, honey.”

He wins you over easily with that argument and your hands go for the top buttons of his flannel. When you find your fingers aren’t doing a fast enough job you start using telekinesis to undo them from the bottom, too. He drops his grip to your hips and fiddles with your belt and the fly on your jeans, groaning with pleasure at how easily you accommodate him and lift your hips so he can strip you.

“Fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he growls. His hand skims your underwear and takes a handful of your ass - god he loves your ass - as you rid him of his shirt so you can run your palms over the thick plain of muscle in his back.

“Look who’s talking,” you breathe against him, biting down on his bottom lip and tugging at it. Electricity shoots through him.

“Harder,” he mutters. You oblige him and sink your teeth in just enough for a little blossom of blood to spill into his mouth.

He’s going to go crazy right here on this blanket, you will drive him to insanity. What bliss. 

He kicks off his jeans and starts grinding his clothed cock against the fabric covering your cunt, like two teenagers so desperate to get off that they don’t even bother to get naked first. His blunt head catches on your clit and you groan at where you can feel him leaking.

“Love it when you fuck me, Logan,” you sigh. He’s not sure if it’s pride or arousal which throbs through him, probably both, but he realises then he has to do now what he should have done a long time ago.

Claws come out, he cuts your underwear off and you squeal in delight. For a moment he considers just sliding inside but if he’s going to do this, it has to be done properly.

So he pushes your legs upwards against your stomach, in a way which he knows your hips will complain about but your pussy will love. Your mouth is a soft little o as you realise you are being manhandled into a mating press. 

“Logan…?” you breathe, a little confused but giddy with pleasure, sucking air in sharply when he rolls his hips to try and slide his cock inside your wet heat. 

“Wanna put a baby in you,” he states, simply, growling it out. Your eyes roll back and you moan at his words, what a pretty sight. 

“But we… oh fuck… I don’t know if we can…”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he manages, pressing his hand to the soft paunch of your stomach under which your womb sits, “let me try.”

Your eyes go wide as your head empties.

“Okay, yeah. Do it. Fuck a baby inside me, Logan.”

What sort of loyal dog would he be if he didn’t follow orders?

His legs trap yours against your body as he starts fucking you in earnest, pressing home inside you with one rough thrust. You mewl and knead at his skin with worshipping hands as he moves. Each undulation of his hips buries himself in you impossibly deeper, so he knows when he spills inside you it’ll be right where it needs to take.

“Fuck…” you hiss, palm cupping his face so he can look down at you, gaze on your gorgeous face. The crease of concentration between your brows as you register how tightly he’s nestled inside you, lips soft and kissable. Your hair blooms like a halo, an angel silhouetted against gingham.

He loves you. Oh, how he loves you.

“Wanna be so full of you, Logan… want to walk around with your baby in me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

He growls but he also knows he belongs to you, too. You have his heart in your ribcage beating alongside your own, a thing he has freely given because you’re the person who most deserves it. He’d never want it to rest with anyone but you.

Logan moves his hips in slow, sensual movements, taking time to luxuriate in the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your walls. When he presses back inside he sees the way your eyes roll back as he hits that sweet spot, gloriously blissful.

“Gonna take you somewhere nice n’ quiet on our honeymoon and keep you in bed, doll. Fuck you until you’re full. Not gonna stop until we’re sure it’s taken. Watch you get all round with me. Goddamn, can just imagine how you’ll glow.”

You gasp at the filth he’s muttering but the grin on your lips show you’re incredibly enthusiastic about that idea.

“Yeah… want you to fuck me whenever you want, Logan… bend me over and fill me up… I’m yours, only yours…”

Something about the way you sigh that last part flips a feral switch in his brain. His hips speed up and the slap of skin on skin echoes from your hips, and then he’s coming in thick ropes to paint the inside of your pretty pussy. Mark you up as his. You groan at the feeling of warmth blossoming inside you but he knows you haven’t reached your peak yet. Usually he’d make sure you orgasm before him… but he has something a little different in mind right now.

Logan slips out of you and you mewl in the displeasure of being emptied. This doesn’t stop him manoeuvring your ass into his lap, though, keeping your legs spread so he can push three fingers inside your warm and willing entrance. A groan rips itself from your throat as you clamp desperate fingers down on his forearm. Were he a human man you’d leave fingerprints for certain, and for a moment Logan regrets that you can’t — he’d love evidence of this tryst; apart from your growing belly, of course.

“Fuck. Yes, Logan, push it inside me,” you whine. Oh goddamn, he’s so easily broken when you beg. He uses his fingers to gather up his spend as it tries to leak from your fucked-puffy cunt and presses it back into your hole. As he goes he makes sure to crook them inside you, hitting the same spot he was with his cock just moments ago.

All you can do is hang on and choke down air as he fucks you with his hand. He’s an expert at your body, can play it like an instrument; it doesn’t take long to get you where he needs you. He feels your walls twitch and then you’re coming around his knuckles, a filthy mix of his release and your own dripping all the way down to his wrist.

You collapse back onto the blanket, gasping for breath as your wits return. As he slowly pulls his hand away from you, you reach out to grab him and pull him to your mouth, sucking the cocktail of you both from his fingers and running your tongue around him.

He groans.

“Fuck. You’re gonna ruin me.”

“But what a way to go, huh?” your smile is devilish. He can’t help but reach down and kiss it. Your hand tangles in his hair and scratches his scalp affectionately. 

A beat.

“So… we’re trying?”

You don’t need to specify for what. He knows. When Logan pulls back there’s an expression of barely-concealed hope on your face. Makes his heart melt. His fingers move to lock with yours, squeezing gently down on your knuckles.

“Yeah. We’re trying.”

He’s never seen you look so happy. You trace your abdomen with a careful hand. The ring he got you glints on it, the stone reflecting the sunshine. 

“Well, okay then.”

It doesn’t take long for news of your engagement to spread. You tell Laura who puts it in a group chat she has with the other students in the mansion, and from there it has no chance of staying secret. In fact you return after you finish the picnic (and an attempt to tidy yourselves up) to a chorus of ‘congratulations’ from a gathered crowd at the door. Logan pretends to be grumpy but honestly? He wouldn’t trade the look of joy on your face for anything. He shows off his ring alongside yours and people coo with adoration at how cute you both are.

Once he’d have snarled at ‘cute’. Now he just accepts it as you snuggle into his side. 

You go to meet up with Wade and Al a couple of days later to tell them but it turns out word travels fast. The apartment door is thrown open in your faces as Wade pours accusingly. 

“I can’t believe I had to find out about this via social media from a teenage girl! What am I, back in high school? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to deal with puberty again, it wasn’t kind to me,” he says, waving his phone at you to show a cheerful post about the engagement put up by Yukio. Logan doesn’t get a good look, but does see the words “still find love in old age” which makes him bristle.

“Sorry, Wade. But you know, we live in the same house as her,” you say, sounding genuinely quite apologetic. Wade deflates a little at your tone, but keeps the act up anyway.

“Big-ass house. Coulda kept your damn hands in your pockets…” he mutters, but then gives you a sincere hug. When he turns with his arms open to Logan, he sighs and accepts one too. “But really, I’m happy for you two. Just don’t forget about your old perpetually single buddy Deadpool when you’re off bumping uglies as a legally wedded couple…”

“I think I might try and forget you during those times actually, Wade,” you say with a laugh. 

“Hmm. Oh wait, holy shit - can I be your best man? I promise you I scrub up pretty well. Well, apart from the face. Mmm, and the rest of my body. My ass looks great in a suit is what I’m saying,” this is directed at you and you give Wade a sad smile.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, I already asked Laura. We kinda trauma bonded in the Void,” you say. Wade’s eyes slide over from you to Logan.

“Oh my god,” he grumbles.

“C’mon, peanut! Isn’t that what best friends are for?”

Logan opens his mouth to snap that they are not best friends but then… he just sort of… closes it. He’s too old to have a best friend. Grown men don’t have best friends. Or at least that’s what he’d have said a scant few months ago. But now…

“Fine,” he sighs. Logan feels you squeeze his hand in joy as Wade lets out a woop which startles Al.

“Yes! I won’t let you down buddy. I’m gonna give you the best dry bachelor party of your life. The strippers will be so hot you won’t even need beer to make them look good!”

“Wade…”

“Joking! Joking…” he says, in a way which suggests he probably wasn’t - though about the quality of the strippers or there being any in the first place, he can’t be sure.

The two of you don’t want a big wedding. You had one in your own timeline and know how stressful it can be. You’re both able to come to the same reasoning: it isn’t the size of the celebration which matters, but that you’ll be married by the end of it. That’s what it’s all leading to after all. Every morning Logan wakes up to the weight of your ring on his finger and he feels complete. He feels grounded. 

He’s happier than he’s been in a long time; maybe ever.

You book a day to go down to city hall and sign the marriage certificates, only in a couple of weeks’ time. The kids all make you cards, shoving them under your door or handing them over during lessons. Soon your room is covered with crayon-scribbled well-wishes and poorly drawn felt-tip depictions of you both. Mostly, it’s you smiling, and Logan snarling with his claws out. You laugh every single time you see one, so he doesn’t mind too much. There are always little love hearts doodled between you anyway. At least the kids know you’re happy together.

Time moves by quickly but maybe that’s just a symptom of being in love. Classes no longer drag on and drain him, instead Logan starts every morning with the vigour of a young man… though the fact that he fills you up every morning before you both head to work might help. It’s strange; you never use protection anyway, but now it feels like there’s a purpose behind the way you fuck. Any position where he gets to see your face as he comes deep inside you will do it for him honestly. He could live in your cries of pleasure, the way you mewl his name, the duty of putting a baby inside you. Before long, those couple of weeks the city hall needed to get your paperwork in order are up, and the day arrives that you’re finally able to go and make things official. 

Logan wakes in bed alone. This is expected. He came home late last night after his bachelor party which, to be fair to Wade, wasn’t so bad. The guy had just organised some friends to play poker late into the night. Due to - what Laura has coined as - his natural ‘resting bitch face’, he cleared everyone out. He’s two hundred and sixty dollars richer so now he can grab you some nice flowers on the way to the wedding. He’d gotten a text saying that you were staying at a hotel in town for the night, the girls had insisted on keeping you separate because it’s tradition. Logan isn’t sure what about this whole situation is exactly traditional, what with all the crossed timelines and long-lost soulmates, but if it makes you all happy he’ll relent.

He showers, missing your body in the steam with him, then walks naked back into the room to grab something nice to wear, fingers fumbling with the radio as he goes. It picks up just as the host is introducing the next song.

“...goes out to Logan from ‘the love of your life’, who is pretty sure you’ll have the radio on by now! Apparently you’re getting married today? Well a big congratulations from everyone here at the station, you two, enjoy this classic tune…”

Chapel of Love by the Dixie Cups starts to spill out from the speakers and Logan chuckles, grabbing his phone and tapping out a message.

Cute.

You text back almost immediately. He can imagine you grinning at your screen as the music plays, waiting for his reaction.

I am. Can’t wait to see you today, baby ♥

Yeah, he can’t wait to see you either.

Seeing as it’s meant to be a relaxed ceremony you’d both decided not to wear anything too formal. Logan pulls out a white dress shirt and a fresh pair of jeans, toeing on the boots he cleaned last night. He looks at himself in the mirror before deciding to roll his sleeves up to his elbow. For some reason you go crazy when you can see his exposed forearms; you say it’s “pure unadulterated sex appeal”. He’s never understood it himself but anything to make you smile. 

Laura grabs a ride with him in the pickup he uses. She’s wearing leggings and a baggy suit blazer but he has to admit, the kid looks pretty cool. Despite his several warnings not to she sits with her feet on the dash playing with her phone, calling him a boring old man for not wanting her to go through the windscreen. 

“Remember I heal like you, dummy. It’s no problem.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want you turning up to my wedding covered in glass with your clothes ripped to shit.”

She grumbles and relents, ever the petulant teenager.

He manages to get parking nearby, so someone up above must be smiling down on him, takes the short walk to the city hall - making sure to get a ridiculously large bouquet as he goes. As he takes in the smell of roses he realises it isn’t that he’s feeling nervous per se, but there’s definitely an anticipation running up his spine. Realistically he knows nothing will change when the two of you are married on paper.

But… kinda everything will change.

He spots you talking to Wade on the grey stone steps, and his mouth is pulled into a smile at the cute little dress you’re wearing. You had been going on about how you picked it up at the thrift store - what a bargain! - and now he sees it, he agrees about how it highlights your figure perfectly. You light up when you see him… and Wade’s face falls as he turns.

“What the fuck! I thought this was a wedding?! Now I look like I’m in a competition for most formally dressed dickhead!” he says, gesturing to himself. He’s in a full black tuxedo and is definitely the most suited up person for about five blocks.

“It is a wedding. Not my fault you never asked the dress code,” Logan states. You burst into laughter as Wade pouts, but he seems to be taking the ribbing pretty well. Your hand tangles into Logan’s. He looks at you.

“Hey,” you breathe, taking the flowers and taking a deep breath of their sweet smell. “Thank you, these are lovely.”

“You deserve the best, baby.”

“Aww. You know, look great.”

“So do you.”

“We scrub up pretty well, huh? Great choice on the sleeves, by the way.”

Logan smiles into the kiss he presses to your lips. Laura groans at the public display of affection.

“C’mon, your slot is coming up. You two wanna be late for your own wedding?”

And so you traipse up the stairs to the office where the smiling registrar has you fill out the paperwork to officially be married to each other. When you see Logan’s hands shake a little, you press your own to the small of his back and rub small soothing circles there. Wade and Laura cheer when you have your first kiss as a wedded couple and burst party poppers of confetti over you both. The group of you stand together and get a picture to celebrate the day: Logan’s arm around your waist while yours is secretly perched on his ass, Laura grinning and holding the bouquet for you, Wade laying across the front of you all Breakfast Club-like. 

Logan smiles so hard his face hurts.

It’s nice.

Though the two of you didn’t want a party it’s pretty hard to convince the kids at the manor of anything, so you get back to a banner reading congratulations! It’s held by your youngest students who cheer as the group of you get out of the pick-up. Yukio rushes in to give you a tight hug and you laugh, joyful at the love you’re walking into.

The dining room has been cleared to set up an impromptu celebration space. A metric tonne of pizza has been ordered and Piotr, the rather willing DJ, makes sure nothing pre-1989 is played. 

He’s never really been one for dancing, but when you drag him to the middle of the wooden floor and wrap your arms around his neck Logan can’t help but sway with you to all the cheesy love songs. You press your forehead to his, tips of your noses meeting. You breathe in harmony. You let the same air fill your lungs.

“I love you,” you sigh a dozen times over, dreamily.

“I love you too,” he breathes a dozen times back.

When you throw the bouquet that evening you’re in such a good mood you both forgive Wade for body-checking a kid to grab it out of the air.

Logan thinks about his life and smiles.

He’s got it pretty good.

He takes you on a honeymoon for a week to a little cabin in the woods he rented out. It’s in the wilderness, miles from anyone or anywhere, which means he’s able to do what he wants with you: have you naked the whole time.

The two of you don’t do anything but fuck, and you’re very down for it. Something about married life has you more horny than you’ve ever been before. For the first couple of days you hardly leave the bed, Logan only heading to the kitchen to grab you some food to keep your energy up between sessions, pumping you full of his come until you’re a sticky and sated mess. He feeds you slices of pie as you lay dazed on the mattress, a pillow under your hips to keep his spend from dripping out of you.

“Fuck, Logan, you’re gonna kill me,” you groan as he starts rocking his hardening cock up against you the fifth time that day.

“Nah, baby. You can take it.”

You fall asleep with him buried deep inside of you so that the thing waking you up the next morning is him rolling his hips. It’s a pretty fucking good way to start the day.

Eventually the two of you leave the bedroom and walk around the place. Autumn is coming in properly now, the green of the trees outside turning to reds and oranges. You wrap yourself in a blanket and stand at the huge windows looking out at the vista, your aesthete sensibilities pulling you there. Silhouetted in October’s light, Logan can only be struck by how perfect you are: your body, your heart, your soul. His, all his.

He’s the luckiest goddamn man alive.

He takes you against the windows, your chest pressed up against the cool glass and making you gasp in thrilled pleasure, rubbing loving circles on your clit until he feels you clench around him.

At night the two of you huddle by the wood-burning fireplace, the flames dancing across your bodies as he makes love to you slowly, non-hurriedly, letting you enjoy each other. You push him onto his back and ride him, head thrown back so he can appreciate the long line of your neck which he traces with thick calloused fingers.

Fuck, he’d keep you here forever if he could. A little slice of perfection made for just the two of you. Nobody to bother you or call you away for duties, just your love and all the space it needs.

It’s a shame when the two of you have to return to the manor, but he has a job to do. Kids to teach. A Wade to keep in check. It’s easy to slip back to day-to-day life, though, when he has a wedding ring on his finger and you in his bed.

That is until one day he finds you with your head in the toilet, emptying your guts of the day’s breakfast.

“Logan, I don’t feel so hot,” you groan. He goes into panic mode, worrying you’ve got some sorta bug, practically carrying you to Hank’s lab so the doctor can get a good look at you. When you get there, he doesn’t seem incredibly impressed, but checks you over diligently because he’s a friend. 

“Look, I don’t mean to be crass, but have you taken a pregnancy test?” he asks, bluntly. Your eyes go wide over the glass of water you’re sipping.

“Well, no, but…” you trail off. Logan can see you counting on your fingers, trying to make something add up in your brain.

“Ah. Right. I don’t have one but I do have an ultrasound scanner, it was one of the things Charles foresaw a use for I suppose…”

So Logan stands there as Hank wheels the thing out and has you lay down on a counter - this isn’t the med room after all, there’s no beds in here. Your hand grabs onto his as Hank carefully lifts your shirt and presses the wand to your stomach.

There’s no mistaking the image on the screen. Head, body, arms and legs. The baby’s picture thrums. Hank does not seem surprised.

“Yep, there it is. You’re pretty far along. I’m not an expert, but I’d say three months?”

“Three…!” you look at Logan as if this is his fault. Which, he supposes, it sort of is. “But we’ve only been… uh, trying for a few weeks now.”

Hank shifts uncomfortably. Logan wants to die. He does not want to talk about his sex life with a peer.

“Have you been using birth control?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then I think you have your answer. Nature did what it does best.” He manages a smile. “Congratulations to you both. I’ll uh, let you have a moment alone.”

He practically runs out of the lab. The two of you are left sitting there in silence.

Then slowly, so slowly, your hand comes up to rest on your abdomen. You look down at the point of contact and tears well up in your eyes.

“Logan…”

With one word you summon him, his strong arms wrapping around you and holding you tight, an anchor in this moment of joy. He buries his lips into your hair as you sob, utterly overwhelmed.

“Fuck, we did it, baby,” you manage to choke out. His hand comes to rest on your own and then you switch, covering it with yours so that he can feel the skin of your belly. It’s warm and soft. It feels strange knowing that his child is in there. Strange but right.

He gave you what you deserve. His heart beats a little faster and he realises his vision is blurry, too. Fuck. Look at him, welling up. 

Ah man, he doesn’t care.

The kiss between you is wet and desperate, an act of triumph and elation. As his mouth presses deep into yours he feels you tug at his shirt, pawing at him like an animal.

“Honey, I’m not gonna fuck you in Hank’s lab,” he states. You whine beneath his lips.

“But I wanna celebrate…” you mewl, hitting him with the doe-eyes. He scoffs a laugh and you pout. “Besides the pregnancy hormones are driving me crazy.”

“You just found out.”

“Yeah, weird how quickly they can take effect…”

Logan gently but firmly removes your exploring hands.

“We can do it somewhere our friend and coworker doesn’t spend his whole day. C’mon,” he silences any protestations with another kiss, soft and loving, “we have all the time in the world, baby.”

You run your fingers through his hair, eyes still a little dewy, but smile is undeniable.

“All the time in the world…” you sigh, a promise. 

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

those of you who liked part 1, too: @inumakisriceingredients @respectmyprivacys-blog @xcalcalcalcalx @moonixlity @justanothermarvelfanaccount @taraa-dactyl @nitimurinvetitumsposts @sseleniaa @diegobrandolover99 @blackcanvaspainting @youngestxhearts @veggie-eggrolls

[multi-fandoms-posts]

X Men Masterlist:

X Men Masterlist 2

Update: 10/06/24:

Charles Xavier:

His Wife

Imagine

Sweet Moment

The Professor and the Stark Heiress

An Unexpected Encounter

Lesson in Obedience (SMUT)

Charles and His Girlfriend High School AU

A Seductive Chess Game (SMUT)

The Crossing of Worlds last part (X-Men x The Boys)

The Crossing of Worlds Part 3 (X-Men x The Boys)

The Crossing of Worlds Part 2 (X-Men x The Boys)

Beyond Control last Part

The Crossing of Worlds Part 1 (X-Men x The Boys)

Beyond Control Part 1

Hihgschool AU

A Nighttime Disruption

The Power of Thoughts

A Telepathic Connection

Read my mind (Logan x reader x Charles)

Drunk idea

Training

Just Friends huh?

I will always be by your side

Imagine

Charles If....

Update: 10/02/24:

Cherik:

Equal Power, Equal Passion SMUT

Driven to the Limit

Secrets in the Storm

POV Video

Annoying encounter in the bar

Gun and pressure

The Explosive Mission last part

In the Storm of Love and Rage

The Explosive Mission part 2

The Explosive Mission part 1

Logan's sister

Playful Distraction: A Day of Mission and Mischief

Trouble maker

Training Chaos

two men protect her girl

Between Mission and Seduction

Distractions and Dynamics

Seductive Power Part 2

Seductive Power Part 1

Unexpected Revelations last part

Through the Shadows of Danger

Twin Trouble

Unexpected Revelations Part 3

Unexpected Revelations Part 2

Unexpected Revelations Part 1

dirty mind

Horror movie

Cherik

Update: 10/08/24

Erik Lehnsherr:

Erik's Secret

Someday

Imagine

Little surprise SMUT

In His Arms: A Moment of Peace

A Night of Control and Desire (SMUT)

A Challenge, a Kiss, and a Surprise

Between Magnet and Mind

In the Ruins of Conflict

Hidden Tension

Update: 10/06/24

McFassy:

sick days

Chaos Before the Oscars

Waves of Passion

A Magical Moment at Comic-Con

Update: 10/06/24

James Mcavoy:

The Tie SMUT

A Magical Evening

Video call

Surprise at Comic-Con

Sunrise Moments

A Flirt in Focus

Update: 10/06/24

Paddy:

The Thrill of the hunt

Beg for me SMUT

role-playing game (SMUT)

Imagine

Possession and Desire

The Night of Deception and Passion 2/2(SMUT)

The Night of Deception and Passion 1/2

Control and Surrender (SMUT)

The Game of Control (Paddy and Cal)

I love my psychopath

Shackles of Desire (Paddy and The Killer)

The Heat of the Moment (SMUT)

Update:09/29/24

Lord Asriel:

Lost Time: The Return of Lord Asriel (SMUT)

Amidst the Battle

In the Light of the Morning

Update: 09/10/24:

Logan:

Mission with Temptation

Uninvited Guest

Unexpected Visitor(but somehow not)

Unexpected News

Inappropriate Comments

In the Shadows of Passion

Read my mind (Logan x reader x Charles)

Scott's sister

Game night

Midnight Conversation

The Bar

[sunandsstars]

YAWNETU

CHAPTER 9

Tonowari x Ronal x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: With her arrival in Awa’atlu, reader seeks to find a sanctuary for her family, one that she may find in two particular individuals

Warnings: Mentions war, Pregnancy, Mean dad

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: thank you for those who have been patient with me! I know i abandoned you all for a bit but here’s chapter 9, i might rewrite it since the first bit seems a bit rushed but let me know what you guys think!

Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @bajadotcom @alwaysinwritersblock @pandoragalora @perfectprofessorloverapricot @lvrcpid @answer-the-sirens @phantomalex14 @neteyamforlife @bat1212 @sadforeversblog @ducks118 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @1800imgay @soushswag @honeybxes @lola-bunn1 @alldaysdreamers @doggodorime @theesexystallion @scarlettwch @annamarieisbae @wallpaintt @zatarias-pandora @daoyus @ambria @simp-erformarvelwomen @simpliheavenli @tojidilfs @automaticwizardnerd @lexasaurs634 @symptoms-of-moonlight @avtprint

@deviismynamewritingismygame @sunrays404 @tsireyassgurl @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-one-daydreamer @yeosxxx @noname2246 @ok-boke @rubyrubyruuu @diosmilkymommers @annaleesworld @jiminsthickthighs @holysaladapricothero @peaches-peach-peach @enochi @thispussyshouldcomew @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kirisimpster @pompompomegranate @stevebuckysdoll @midhito @any-maybe @nyylovestowrite @omnimaki @blueberryfailureclinic @degenweeb @tejas-kris @sadlyitsme-boo-hoo @agustdeeyaa @kthehoeforfictionalmen @himbo-klown @miraxflor @behindthearcane @yanelis-world @jaxe-27 @noahboahsblog @saltedcoffeescotch

The Metkayina pair became good mates for her, they were understanding, loving, protective, everything she had ever hoped for in the past, a dream she once had that now became a reality.

Tonowari hunted for the rarest of pearls outside the reef and crafted pretty necklaces and beaded tops for his new wife, his love was more physical, he enjoyed creating new clothes and loved decorating ___’s hair with small shells and sea glass, his wives only deserved the best after all.

Ronal showed her loved in different ways though, she cooked for the growing family, took care of any wounds, accompanied ___ wherever she went and taught her all she knew about being a Tsahík in hopes that she can learn and become one herself in the future.

Together the three thrived and eventually moved into one large marui with the perfect view of the sunset and sunrise each and every day. The house had much more space for their children too, who were all growing as the years went on, there were even new additions to the family, such as Tsireya, their first daughter and Ronal’s second born.

___ often thought about having more children, but birthing twins, especially in the circumstance she was in, was enough to put her off for a while. But with her new happy family, she continues to ponder what it would be like, she now lives in a more stable environment with mates who adore her and her boys so it was only right for her to think.

“Yawnetu, what is on your mind?”

Tonowari glanced up from the net he was weaving, cocking his head to the side and blinking, usually at this time of the day his wife would be chattering away about what she has been up to while he was hunting, but alas he was met with silence most of the evening. It was obvious something else took up her thoughts, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Snapping her head towards her husband, a purple hue took over ___’s pretty face “I am sorry, what was it you said? I was not paying attention”

Tonowari chuckled and put down the unfinished net, getting on his hands and feet and shuffling quickly next to her, cupping her face. “I know you were not, that is why I asked what you were thinking of” he leaned in and brushed his nose against hers, foreheads connecting.

___’s slightly larger ears twitched at his words, eyes widening, should she tell him?

Just as she was about to open her mouth loud shouting echoed from outside the marui, interrupting the couple peace. Tonowari leaned back and sighed, eyes closing and a hand coming to rub his temple, what could be causing such a racket late into the evening?

As the shouting drew closer it was clear to make out the voices and words, the concern that once appeared in ___’s yellow orbs died down into amusement.

“No! That is mine! I will tell sa’nu!”

“She will agree with me anyway, you must share! It is not fair you get to have this all day!” Two young na’vi scrambled into the hut, bickering and sticking tongues out at each other. One held an akula toy made out of mangrove wood, waving it around like a prize he had won. “Sa’nu! Tell this skxawng to share!”

Syatxì pouted at his greener brother, glaring daggers into bluer eyes, his yellow gaze fell onto his mother who hid a laugh behind her hand, frowning even more at the lack of help. “Mama, tell him off!” he pointed a finger at Ao’nung who stuck his tongue out once more.

“Now why must your mother solve all of your problems?” Tonowari stood up and crossed his arms, analysing his sons who quickly stood to attention. “You two are warriors are you not?”

“Srane!”

“Then you must fight your own battles. Your mother should not be doing so, instead of her looking after you, you must look after her” the boys were fast to nod intently, taking in the words like it was a quest they must complete, and in a way it was. “Warriors do not depend on the fight of others, you must think for yourselves, what would better the situation -“

“Tonowari” Another figure emerged from the entrance to their home, walking inside with the steps of a leader, behind her skipped in another two smaller figures, peaking out between the Tsahìk’s legs. “Must you do this now?” Ronal huffed and placed a few bowls down, squatting by her pile of herbs and sifting through them.

“Ronal, they need to learn”

“And they will, husband” the woman glanced up and offered a small smile, “in due time” she then moved to sit next to her wife, cupping the back of her head as an intimate gesture.

___ patted the space between her legs to offer her daughter a place to sit as the family talked, quickly getting to work adjusting her thick hair “my sons, fighting is not the answer. Sharing is what we do as a family, and Ao’nung, do not call your brother names”

It was Ao’nung’s turn to pout as his counterpart cackled in his face, snatching the akula toy and running away. “Hey!”

Happiness is simple.

That’s what ___ told herself as she watched her boys play, Sylwaì rushing to join in the fun as they soon decided to leave for the waters and explore before dinner.

Her family meant everything to her, she has a home now and has a life with people who appreciate and care for her as much as she does them. “I appreciate you both, I love you in ways i cannot express” she whispered, kissing the top of Tsireya’s head as she jumped up to follow her older brothers who called for her.

“And we love you yawnetu” Tonowari sat on her other side, kissing her shoulder. “You know, you still have not told me what was on your mind earlier, you were thinking very heavily”

“I want another child”

Ronal stopped poking the fire pit that was suspended above the water, inhaling a breath and turning her head to look at her mates with eyes that shined with growing glee. “You do?” her tail started swishing behind her, despite her best efforts to be calm and mellow.

“Srane. Maybe not right now, but at some point, I want children of your blood, and mine”

“It is decided!” The Olo’eyktan jumped and picked ___ up by the thighs, hoisting her up and she squealed, laughing at his joy. “When you are ready, we mate, again, and you will bear our next kin” he rubbed his nose against hers, placing her back on the floor by her feet.

Ronal soon joined and kissed ___’s shoulder sweetly, a small grin on her face “it was about time you said that, I was afraid ‘wari might explode otherwise”

“Ronal!”

Yes, happiness was simple.

It was times like these where Neytiri most thought of her, the beads in her hands resembled the amber of her eyes and the pattern of the bracelet reminded her of her hair.

___ never left her thoughts ever since she left all those years ago. The tsakeram has physically moved on, after her search for the women was left with no progress she decided to pray to Eywa to keep the small family of three safe on their travels to wherever they go and hope for the best. Mentally, Neytiri is sad, her heart still aches and yearns for her lost mate, and if she can turn back time she would, just to change who she was.

“What are you thinking of?” Jake put his bow away, finished with cleaning the exterior and replacing the string, his head turned towards his wife and cocked a brow, noting her silence.

“___”

Jake paused, face turning to look at the ground by his feet, ears going down, just like Neytiri he is haunted by his actions, but he tried to forget about them rather than acknowledge them. He was a brute, a shit ‘mate’ and abandoned his sons before they were even born. It’s thoughts like those that push him to step down from his mighty position as a leader, but the clan needs him, so he stays.

“I have faith that she is safe somewhere” Jake replied, nodding his head to reassure himself. ___ was strong, she would have found somewhere to be.

Neytiri sighed and tied off the bracelet, “and what if she was turned away, for her sons? What if she never found anywhere safe to begin with? what if -“ large hands cupped her face and a nose bumped hers, Jake smiled a little at her rambling, but it was a sad smile, he does not know how to answer those questions, he thinks the same as her deep down.

“The twins were born looking like true na’vi, there is no way they would find out about them without ___ saying so”

The warrior nodded her head, sighing in defeat and kissing her mates cheek, for now she would get on with her other chores, later she will ponder again. It was like a cycle she can never break out of, one that leaves her dreaming dreamless nights and going about her day on autopilot.

“Sa’nok!” Kiri jumped into her mothers lap, rushing to get away from the sticky hands of her brother, Lo’ak, who was chasing her with the intent of throwing tree sap in her hair. “Hide me from him! He will not leave me alone!”

Lo’ak roared and ran up to the pair, squealing when he was picked up and dangled upside down by his father, “Dad! Put me down!” he wriggled and tried to escape the Olo’eyktan’s firm grip.

Jake chucked and continued to gently swing him, “Kehe, what did I tell you about terrorising your sister? you worm”

“Not to do it in front of sa’nok!”

“Hey!” Jake bellowed a laugh as he put his youngest down, catching Neytiri’s judging face aimed straight at him and quickly stopped his laughing, pretending to act serious for the sake of his wife. “Kids will be kids” he shrugged, trying to play the innocent husband with a coy smile.

His wife just huffed, a grin stretching onto her face as she felt a kick in her stomach, hand instantly going to soothe the ache. “Little one wants to join in the fun, it seems”

Kiri gasped as she felt the slight pound on her back, turning to face her mothers bloated stomach and leaning down, smooshing her face against it “I want my sister out, I am tired of being the only true girl, there is only so much me and Lo’ak can talk about”

“Kiri! I am NOT a girl you turd!”

Kiri just ignored her brother in favour of focusing her attention on her new unborn sibling. “How do you know it will be a girl ‘ite?” the youngling shrugged and smiled a little.

“I just have a feeling” she sung. The marui entrance suddenly flapped open with force, another little boy rushing inside, panting slightly.

“Lo’ak! Stop running away from me!” Neteyam went and tackled him, dogpiling onto his younger brother who laughed loudly, the two wrestling for fun. Kiri snorted and rolled her eyes ‘boys’

Jake kneeled next to his mate, kissing the back of her neck and sighing quietly, his family bringing him the comfort he desperately needed, but yet he still feels incomplete. His heart yearned for the missing pieces, his missing sons and his missing mate.

One day he will find them.

A new star appeared in the sky. It was small to the naked eye, almost unnoticeable, but to someone who has studied the stars day in and day out for the past 14 years, it looked out of place, glowing brighter than the others around it, twinkling brighter and brighter as the minutes past.

“Hey” Jake nudged his wife awake from where she laid on his chest, still staring up into space. His distant look urged Neytiri to turn her head up into his line of sight, eyes widening and jaw going slack.

“No, this cannot be” In the far distance, the bright light zoomed down onto Pandora, red hot fire raging down onto the planet with a mission. Everything around the ships caught fire and the flames spread too quickly, the creatures of Pandora screeching and rushing to escape.

Neytiri ran to a higher viewpoint, jumping over logs and dodging yerik who fled in the opposite direction, a cry escaped her lips and she watched her home, once again, fall victim to the humans who once destroyed her planet in a time she thought long had past. The Na’vi crouched and sobbed, feeling the arms of her mate surrounding her who had his ears pinned back, watching the sight of the forest going up in flames.

His nightmares never seemed to end, Jake could only wonder if this was the great sorrow Moat talked about all these years ago.

A year passed from the return of the human race, the humans and na’vi who lived near hells gate moved up to the floating mountains for safety. Always preparing for war, always going to fight.

Spider was squatted over various bowls of blue paint, redoing the stripes that littered all over his body, sticking his tongue out in concentration. Behind him, Kiri worked swiftly and accurately, painting stripes in places he cannot see or reach.

“I still don’t understand why you paint yourself like this”

“I told you, it’s to blend in” Spider turned and faced the much taller girl, looking at the stripes on her body to try and mimic on his own. “When I do this, I look like one of you, the animals respect me more. Plus, I run faster”

“Sure monkey boy. The animals probably don’t want to taste the berries when they eat you” Kiri snorted, dipping her hand in more blue paint and going back to paining his biceps.

“Hey! I am na’vi, just like you” Spider scooped a large glob of paint, although still small compared to the amount Kiri had, and launched it at her face.

“Oop!”

Sudden footsteps interrupted their playful banter, little padding of feet getting closer behind the pair. “Spider! Kiri! The war party has returned! They are back! Come on! Come on!” Tuktirey rushed over and grabbed both of their arms, dragging her sister and friend along to the edge of high camp, watching as banshees shouted as they flew by and landed.

Shouting can be heard by the cliff, the evident voice of their father talking sternly to their brothers, Kirk’s ears went down and she sighed, going behind Neteyam and looking at his evident wounds.

“You spot bogeys! That was your one job! You spot them and you report them, from a distance!” Jake got up to the boys faces, waving his hands like a madman.

“I’m sorry sir, it was my fault” Neteyam lowered his head, disappointed that he let his father down again.

“When are you gonna stop taking the heat from this knucklehead?” Jake glared at him, eyes going to Lo’ak who stood silent, feeling his little sister moving his arms around. “And you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Ma Jake. Your son is bleeding” Neytiri interrupted, eyes concentrated on her husband who was evidently stressed. Her tail curled in slight annoyance, heart pumping from the adrenaline she felt in the fight. Jake looked at his wife and sighed, hand going to his temples.

“Go to your grandmother. Now” As Neytiri took Neteyam by the arm and followed her daughters to her mothers tent, she turned around to observe Lo’ak who was left standing in front of her husband. “You understand what your actions caused?”

“Yes sir”

“You could have gotten your brother killed” Lo’ak’s ears went down, he hated disappointing his father. “No flying for a month. See to every ikran, get them taken care of” and with that Jake stormed off, shaking his head and muttering curses under his breath, the ringing in his ears won’t stop, and unlike Neytiri his heart pumps from fear not adrenaline.

‘I could have lost them’

“Yawnetu” Ronal stalked over to her wife who fed the young ilu in the pen, a deep frown on her face at the news she was about to deliver. “The Omaticaya in the forest, they are at war once again”

___’s ears twitched and pulled back, she knew that the star she saw a year ago was not from any constellation she has memorised since her childhood, she had a feeling that the tawtute have returned, but has been keeping her mind occupied to forget.

Her heart continued to hurt though.

“I know, my love. I worry for my family back home” especially Spider, who she prays to Eywa every night to keep safe. Ronal rested her hands upon her lovers shoulders, sighing deeply, she knows that her wife is hurting inside, but the tsahìk can only offer comfort, not truly in the midst of war yet. Somehow Awa’atlu has stayed away from the tulkun huntings, and she hopes Eywa can keep them safe for a little longer. Sooner or later though she knows that war will be amongst their side of the reef, it was only a matter of time.

Ronal then took her hands off ___’s shoulders and stood straight, “I must continue with my duties today, join me?” the forest na’vi shook her head, she was planning to join some of the women to go into the reef to pick some plants needed for food and healing.

“Not at this moment, I must join some of the divers today” the metkayinan nodded and smiled a little, moving away from the ilu pen to wherever she was needed. ___ went back to throwing fish at the creatures in the sea, giggling when the young ones brushed against her legs. The smile she displayed was hardly genuine, but it was enough to fool outsiders who do not know her well enough.

The woman soon slips out of the water, putting down the empty baskets to be filled later and moved to where she was to meet the other ladies. The day ahead was something that she would soon come to dread, unknownst to her the past she once sought herself leaving would soon come crashing into her life tenfold.

But being unaware for the meantime was bliss.

The ladies were kind to her and the job was easy enough, she finished within a few hours into the morning, deciding to rest by the edge of the reef chatting away with her friends of a few years now. Gossiping about their husbands, as wives do.

‘’Do not get me wrong, I adore my mate, but sometimes he is just so overbearing! Why do I need to take two spears with me when I am outside the reef! I can very much handle myself’’ Tayal huffed, tail slapping the ground in slight annoyance from this mornings hunt. She was a seasoned hunter, extremely skilled and praised by the elders for her work, but her husband was just too cautious.

Sayala rolled her eyes and smiled at her ‘’your mate just looks out for you, if you do not like his actions then it is best to talk to him. I, for one, do not have an overbearing mate but he does snore very loudly when he sleeps. So loud that it wakes me up sometimes! I wish that I had your problem’’ The group laughed, ___ patting her shoulder in pity.

‘’If Tonowari were to ever do that then Ronal would shun him to sleep onto the ocean floor. I am lucky that he does not pose any problems late at night’’ She giggled, catching the interest of some of the ladies.

‘’My Tsahìk! You have two mates, what is that like?’’ The question caught her slightly off guard until she remembered that it is extremely rare for Na’vi to hold more than one lover, even then it is usually preserved for important figures of the clan.

‘’Well, it is normal for me, I have had two mates ever since I came of age, they are wonderful to me and the kids, I am just thankful to Eywa for guiding me here to them’’ ___ rubbed her swollen stomach, thanking the great mother for what has become of her, Tayal hummed, basking in the light that is ___.

But the Na’vi cannot help but wonder, her Tsahìk has become of age long before she joined Awa’atlu and she could not have been mated to her leaders since then, not to mention her two sons who were not of Metkayina blood (although she did not bat an eye at the latter, sometimes women have children without mates). Is ___ hiding something from them? But before she could ponder any longer their conversation was abruptly disrupted.

A horn sounded through the village, reaching far to the Na’vi who sat at the edge of the reef. They all yipped and cried out at the warning signal, abandoning their chores and standing tall from their crouches. ‘Visitors? What could this mean?’

‘’Look! Up there!’’ One of the woman pointed to the sky where ikran glided through the air, on top sitting forest Na’vi shouting to each other in panic, not expecting a horn to greet them as they entered. It alerted the village to the visitors, and while it was inevitable, attention was not something that they wanted to bring towards them for the time being.

___’s breath hitched at the familiar ikran colours, if these are the Na’vi who she thinks they are then- ‘’___ come! We must see who they are’’. But the Omaticayan could only sigh, already knowing the answers to the question her friend seeks guidance for, ikran are unique in their patterns, there are no two banshees who look the same. The two large creatures at the head of the formation could only belong to the Na’vi she once ran away from.

Ao’nung stalked through the crowded beach, coming to the forefront of the commotion with hard eyes, Rotxo trailing behind him. His gaze caught the yellow orbs of the two Sully boys who watched him with slight wonder, having never seen another Na’vi race before the Omaticaya. Inwardly the boy cringed, seeing similarities between his brothers and these…people. This was going to be difficult.

‘’Is that supposed to be a tail?’’ His smaller companion laughed slightly, pointing towards the skinny appendage which curled in anticipation. Ao’nung averted his gaze towards it and scoffed, smirking when the older boy of the two brothers turned his head to look at him. ‘’How are they supposed to swim-‘’

‘’Do not, Rotxo, Ao’nung’’ a sweet voice called out, small hand hitting the back of her brothers heads and blue eyes rolling at their stupidity. They were trying to look intimidating and it was obvious, making fun of these newcomers who looked the exact same as some of their family members. It was rude, and extremely unnecessary, these people are guests here, and as the chiefs daughter, she will show them the kindness that her idiot brothers will not do.

Tsireya noted the absence of her mother and two brothers, being suddenly reminded that their presence would be appreciated, if not for the sake of her people then perhaps the sake of these newcomers. Her head moved to look at one of the boys face to face, dipping down and smiling apologetically. ‘’Hey’’ He tipped his head up and smiled a small smirk, trying his luck with making friends with the people who he would be potentially living with. Friends, or something more?

Tsireya grinned and chuckled at his awkwardness, finding it sweet that despite the predicament they find themselves in, he still shows kindness towards her.

Hoots and shouts alerted the clan that their leaders were in the vicinity, Tsireya’s father landing in the water nearby on his large skimming. He waded out of the water, eyes never leaving the newcomers and raised his brows as he got closer, it was Toruk Makto, whom he met during the great clan meetings.

“I see you, Jake Sully”

“I see you Olo’eyktan”

“Neytiri te Tskaha Mo’at’ite” they formally greeted each other, fingers to their forehead and dipping them in the accustomed manner of their people. ‘’What brings your family to our side of the reef?’’

Jake and his wife shared eye contact briefly, unsure on what to say and afraid of saying the wrong thing, they were tired of travelling, tired of war, they could not go on much longer. ‘’We seek uturu’’

‘’Uturu?‘’ a new voice called out, appealed and confused. Ronal sauntered up to Toruk Makto and sized him up with a glare, moving on to his wife who bowed in respect of the tsahik. Her blue eyes caught the sight of their children and waltzed up to them, moving around them like an akula and inspecting their aura.

‘’Srane, we seek a sanctuary for our family’’ Jake’s tail curled in nervousness, he hasn’t felt this scared since that day he had to prove himself to the Omaticaya, warning them and getting them to believe him when the skypeople were attacking hometree.

‘’We are reef people, you are from the forest, your skills mean nothing to us here’’ Tonowari announced to the family, voice strong and firm. He was wary about their arrival, it was sudden and unexpected. He knew of the war happening overseas, everyone does, but has it become so bad that they seek refuge in another clan?

Jake cringed at the harshness in the leaders gaze, so used to respect from his people back home that he forgets his place in others. His ears picked up the whimpers of his youngest as she clung to his legs, scooting away from Ronal’s piercing gaze and scalding touch. ‘’Their arms are thin’’ her voice rang through the crowd, stopping any chatter, ‘’and their tails are too weak, they will be slow in the water’’ she ignored Kiri’s small outcry when her tail was yanked a little too harshly.

But the Tsahik’s calculating gaze quickly turned to critique and panic once her eyes caught onto the girls hand, she snatched it from where it hung limp and brought it into the air to show her people, ‘’these children.. are not even true Na’vi!’’ She grabbed onto one of the boy’s hand with her free one and raised it too, to show who they truly are, ‘’they have demon blood!’’

Gasps rung out among the Metkayina, not expecting the very aliens to destroy Pandora to come across the sea to their island for sanctuary, hisses vibrated through some of them, hostility in their blue orbs. ‘’Yes we are!’’ Kiri snatched her hand back and glared, subtly moving closer to her mother who narrowed her eyes, not liking the way this woman, clan leader or not, spoke about her children.

Jake felt panic course through him at the judgemental gazes being directed to their small group, this was not going to plan. ‘’Hey..look! Look at this! I was a skyperson but now i am Na’vi! We can adapt, we will adapt right?’’ He showcased his five fingers to the Tsahik who watched his pinky finger poke outwards curiously. Murmurs of small ‘yeah’s’ rung through the Omaticayans as they agreed with him.

‘’My husband was Toruk Makto. He brought the clans to victory against the skypeople’’ Neytiri stepped forward, trying to assert herself. She will not let her family suffer once more just because she was turned away by this disrespectful Na’vi.

Ronal scoffed, glare hardening. Eywa so help her if this outsider continued to scorn her and her position in her own clan, ‘’is this what you call victory? Hiding, among strangers’’ her eyes flicked from Neytiri to her husband and back ‘’it seems Eywa has turned her back on you, chosen one’’

A sharp hiss interrupted her sentence, sharp teeth obstructing Ronal’s vision. On instinct she hissed back, ears flattening to her skull, unaware of the worried look her mate shared with Jake.

Tonowari decided to put an end to this feud before the women fought with spears, ‘’Toruk Makto is a mighty warrior, all Na’vi people know his story. But your people are at war and us Metkayina, we have stayed away from the conflict. We do not want you to bring this fight to us’’

‘’I am done with war’’ Toruk Makto picked Tuktirey up who clung to his neck like a lifeline ‘’I just want to keep my family safe, please’’

‘’Let them stay’’

The crowed parted once more to reveal a dark blue figure emerging from a sea of green, pearls dangling delicately on her heavy figure. ‘’Let them’’ she repeated, eyes darting from Tuktirey to the other children, and then to her mates, ‘’they come from a place of war, ‘wari. That is no place for children to live’’

‘’___’’ Ronal snapped her head towards her wife, tail lashing in anticipation ‘’you do not mean that, look at them. Demons’’. The mentioned woman’s ears lowered and she frowned, opening her mouth to remind her partners of where she came from, where her sons came from, but instead of any words coming out, only a puff of air escaped.

She closed her eyes and huffed, opening them once again and looking up, yellow clashing with blue. ___ stared intently into Ronal’s eyes, hoping to convey the message she so wishes to speak aloud. Luckily, the pair have known each other long enough to be able to understand one another without words, they say that the eyes are the window to the soul.

Ronal conducted a slow blink and pursed her lips, nodding her head, partly in concern to what the future may hold if she let these outsiders in her home. ‘’It is decided’’ Tonowari began, turning to face the crowd and raising his arms to gain the attention of the Metkayina ‘’Toruk Makto and his family will stay, treat them as your brothers and sisters for they do not know the sea, they will be like babies taking their first breath’’

At that Neytiri looked towards the sand, a sudden memory popping into her mind, her ears lowered and frowned, only straightening up when feeling the hand on her shoulder being squeezed. Kiri noted the sudden tenseness in her mother’s posture as soon as this third mate of the chief appeared in front of them, she was as blue and as slim as them, same tail and large ears. The girl recognised the familiar beads and weaving patterns on her clothes, despite the difference in material, this stranger was from the Omaticaya clan.

‘’Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless’’ the large man huffed, turning to make heavy eye contact with Jake, the rider of shadow dropping his youngest onto the ground and smiling in gratitude, patting Tuktirey on her back.

‘’Well what do we say guys? Irayo’’ The Sully’s coreoused, some more enthusiastic than others, Kiri rolling her eyes and sighing. Her father straightened up from his slight kneeling position for his daughter and nodded his head to his new chief, then turning his head to acknowledge his wives with a swallow, afraid of the Tsahik’s each for entirely different reasons.

___’s breath hitched when yellow clashed together, tail curling upright in anticipation, her old mate then nodded to her like he did her husband out of politeness and notably swallowed, averting his eyes back onto the sand, afraid that if he were to look into her eyes any longer he’ll get swallowed into a pit of shame, one that he wont ever crawl out of.

‘’My son Ao’nung’’ Tonowari gestured towards one of his boys who decided to show up, mentally going through the scalding he will carry out later ‘’and daughter Tsireya, will show your children what to do’’

Ao’nung’s ears flattened into his skull, not liking the idea of being buddy-buddy with these weirdos ‘’but sempul-‘’ a large blue hand rose infront of the boys face and he immediately paused his speaking in respect.

‘’It is decided’’

That respect was soon lost.

Ao’nung rolled his eyes and glared at the sand beneath his feet, tempted to kick it out off frustration but not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the people. Luckily, Tsireya felt the anger that radiated off of him and decided to speak up, ‘’come, we will show you our village’’ she waved them over in the direction of their new home, once they acquired their things.

This was going to be a long day.

previous | next

[friendrat]

I've never been pro-choice, but that one screenshot really resonated with me because while it wasn't Down Syndrome, I had a pre-birth diagnosis of a sort, and everyone in the medical industry (down to the pharmacist) desperately tried to convince my mother to kill me. It's because my mom believed my life was valuable, that I deserved to live, that I am alive today. Even at great risk to herself because she had really difficult pregnancies and had previously been told that if she had another child, it would probably kill her. Even then, she said God doesn't make mistakes and that I deserved live. My mom's example, and my own experience knowing they wanted me dead and I wouldn't have a say, and knowing that they said my life wasn't worth living and I would be better off dead (they were wrong), that's why I'm pro-life.

And the icing on the cake is that my twin sister didn't make it. Her loss has affected every part of my life, and I say this with complete confidence because I wasn't told about her until I was an adult and could look back and see so many parts of my childhood suddenly make sense. I experienced lifelong trauma in the womb. And all those things they said? That my life wouldn't be worth living, and no one would love me, and that I was better off dead? All those things were said about my sister as well, and it boils my blood to think of it. My sister was a person. Her loss was devastating. She deserved to live as much as I did, and she never got the chance. She never had a choice. All those things they said about her were wrong. No matter what she looked like or health problems she had to work through... she would be loved, and her life was worth living. She is the other reason I'm pro-life. Because I *know* that life begins in the womb, and I *know* the impact that even a life in the first trimester can have.

People are joining the pro life movement every day. Don't lose hope 🖤

[visionarymode]

Seeing Double

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jimmy uso & jey uso x female reader

✧ word count: 4,285

You locked your car and speedily walked to the front door as the cool breeze picked up. The sound of the music and chatter behind the door grew louder as you approached it. You rang the doorbell and waited for a few seconds before Solo opened the door. 

“Hey, come on in,” he greeted with a warm smile and a quick hug. 

You stepped inside and immediately locked eyes with Jimmy, an enthusiastic spark igniting inside of you. He was a few feet away from the door chatting with one of his cousins, flashing you a warm smile as soon as you came into his view. You felt that warmth rush throughout your body from how sexy he looked. He had two braids in, wore a long black sleeve and black joggers. He had his silver chain on but with that pretty ass smile of his, his teeth out brightened that chain. 

“Let me take your jacket,” Solo interrupted your thoughts. 

“Wh- oh yeah thanks,” you smiled handing him your jacket. 

“Finally your ass made it!” You looked back up to see Jimmy with the biggest grin on his face coming in to embrace you for a hug. 

“You been waiting for me?” you teased, pulling back with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and leaned into you. 

“You want a drink?” he spoke in your ear so you could hear him as the music blared in the living room. 

“Yeah!” you replied as he walked over to the counter to pour you your favorite, tequila. 

“Hey girl!” one of your closest friends Jasmine walked over to give you a hug. 

“Hey! Ooh you look hot,” you complimented flicking back her front curls. 

“Says you. You look like you’re here to show someone what they’re missing,” she teased playfully spanking you. 

“Now why would you say that?” 

She raised both of her brows and jokingly scoffed in response. 

“Babe you wore the jeans that make your ass look the best and your boobs are about to spill out that top any second now,” she giggled, spinning you around. You wore light blue jeans with a white lace cropped tank top that did indeed threaten to spill out your breasts. 

“It’s a party…I wanted to dress up a bit.” 

You knew damn well you were lying and she was so right. You spent an hour picking out the right outfit knowing they’d be here. 

“Tequila sunrise ma’am,” Jimmy sneaked up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back, causing slight goosebumps to rise on your skin.

Jasmine shot you a wink and you quickly glared at her and took a sip from your glass. 

“Mmmm thank you…” you trailed off as your eyes landed on his. There he was, chilling on the couch with his legs spread  open, intently watching you interact with his twin brother. A girl you didn’t recognize sitting a little too close to him was trying to whisper whatever the hell in his ear, but he didn’t seem to care at all. You had his full undivided and adorned attention, like you were the only one in the room who mattered. He gave you a questionable nod, taking another sip of his drink. 

✧ ✧ ✧

Hey Baby by Pitbull & T-Pain blared through the speakers as Jimmy held you close with your back against his chest, his right hand gripping your waist as he drank with the other. You were fairly drunk at this point, but you weren’t drunk enough to feel his bulge poking your lower back provoking you to subtly throw it back on it. You felt him get harder, sensually humming in your ear. 

“You better stop doin’ that before I take yo sexy ass upstairs…” he whispered in your ear, wrapping his arm around your bare stomach. You cheekily grinned and turned around to see him looking you up and down as he licked his lips. You took a few steps backward and playfully shrugged your shoulders and headed up the stairs. You walked down the hallway, the music downstairs still faintly thumping in your chest. 

“Where you goin’?” you turned around to see Jimmy following you, taking another swing of his solo cup. 

“I…don’t know I don’t live here,” you looked around giggling at the countless doors to choose from. 

“You’re drunk as hell,” he laughed enlacing his fingers with yours as he knocked on the door to the right. You both heard a woman loudly moan on the other side. You covered your mouth while Jimmy made a disgusted face making you laugh.

“This Solo’s room too he’s gon’ be mad as hell,” he chuckled nudging your arm. 

“Maybe it’s solo in there-“ you got cut off as you saw figures reaching the top of the steps. 

“What are y’all doin’?” Solo walked down the hallway with his arm around his wife. Your jaw dropped and you and Jimmy both looked at each other busting out laughing. 

“We wanted to sit down somewhere quieter the music is louuuuuud,” you expressed with a whisper. Solo laughed and opened the door to his left. 

“Y’all can chill in here. Chill only. Take care of her,” he looked at Jimmy and bowed down to his brother in response to his instructions. You both walked in, Jimmy shutting the door behind him as you both plopped down on the bed with a big sigh. 

“Whatchu’ been up to?” he asked, resting his hand on his thigh, taking another swig of his cup. 

“I’m at a party,” you answered obviously. 

“I know. You know what I mean,” he chuckled nudging your thigh with his own. 

“Nothin’ really. Been busy with work,” you shrugged taking another sip of your drink. 

“No boyfriend?” You paused mid-sip and slightly dropped the cup below your eyes revealing a focused gaze waiting for your answer. 

“Nope,” you sighed. 

“Mm. I find that hard to believe.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I mean shit…look at you,” he softly expressed as his eyes fell over your chest and back up to meet your low eyes. 

“What about me?” you hesitantly asked with a low whisper, still gazing into his deep brown eyes. 

“Don’t know how someone this fine could be single,” he answered not breaking the eye contact. The heat between your thighs became unbearable. The silence in the room was loud yet the sound of your heart pounding rang in your ears as you moved your foot, your leg dragging down his. 

“Let’s go…” you giggled getting up to head towards the door before he grabbed your wrist, making you turn back around. 

“Where you goin’?” 

“Downstairs, people are probably wondering where we are-“ he pulled your wrist again so you were standing between his legs. 

“Uh uh…” he gripped your hips and his fingers found the belt hooks of your jeans as he pulled you onto his lap. 

“Jimmy…” you breathed out nervously. 

“What baby?” his deep, soft, and husky voice asked looking up at you. The silence in the room was extremely loud but not as loud as the sexual tension inches between the both of you. 

“You still wanna go?” he asked cradling the side of your face, his thumb lightly fondling your bottom lip. 

“Fuck…” you sighed, instantly giving in and locking your lips with his. His lips were so soft, intoxicating yet addicting like a fresh glass of cold water. 

He adjusted your legs to wrap around him as he fell back on the bed with you landing on top of him. You whipped your hair back and out your way, holding his bearded face in both of your hands as you slipped your tongue in his hungered mouth. 

“You’re so damn sexy…” he deeply moaned, slapping your ass and groping both cheeks with his large hands inviting you to grind harder on his growing bulge. This being the first time you’ve shared a kiss, it was insane how your tongues naturally danced together. The liquor and your vanilla bean lip gloss mixing together, making you moan in his mouth.

“Jimmy…” you softly breathed out as he left wet kisses down your neck, slightly snatching the top of your shirt with his teeth, snaking his tongue above your breasts. 

“Hm?” he grabbed your cheeks with his right hand, forcing you to look back down at him as he bit your bottom lip.

“We should go back…” you shakily whispered before abruptly turning you over on your back. 

“Should we?” he taunted as he got on top of you, irritatingly slow, yet calmly rubbing his hands up and down your legs. He ran them back up your body, cupping your face in his hands. 

“I-I don’t know,” you stumbled over your words as he caressed your cheeks ever so slightly, a smirk creeping up on his lips. 

“So no?” he deeply chuckled, hovering over your conflicted face as his cold chain tickled your collarbone. 

“Mm. Mm.” you shook your head with a smirk defining your answer, pulling him by his chain to get back on your lips. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought…” he mumbled against your saliva-stained lips as he tugged on the hem of your cropped top, helping you slip out of it as he admired you in your laced nude bra. 

“God…” he growled before slowly flattening his tongue in the middle, sliding it up to your neck causing your back to arch, and he took that opportunity to unclip your bra as he threw it across the room. He cupped your breasts in his large, warm hands before twirling his tongue on your left nipple and enclosing his lips around to softly suck, his wet kisses audibly smacking. Suddenly Jimmy’s phone started ringing, making you open your eyes to the blaring sound and turn to find where it was coming from. 

“Y-Your phone…” The last word rolled off your tongue as a moan at his dedication to stimulating your nipples with his long, warm tongue.

“I don’t care…” he mumbled continuing to slide his tongue up, down, and around your nipple as it loudly and sloppily popped out his mouth. 

“But what if it’s-“ he stopped you as he wrapped his hand around your throat, making you open your once-fluttered eyes as his lips grazed yours. 

“I said…I don’t care,” he whisperingly insisted while unzipping your jeans, his hand slipping down your pants and over your drenched panties. He lowly chuckled at the contact. 

“You don’t seem to give a damn about that phone either, huh?” he mumbled down your stomach as he left a trail of his wet pecks. You giggled, feeling yourself melting into the sheets before three pounding knocks at the door made you both freeze and look back at the sound. 

“Aye Jimmy!” You knew exactly whose voice was behind that door. 

“Man, I know yo ass is in there!” You frantically pushed him off of you and quickly put your bra and top back on in lightning speed. Jimmy looked at you for approval before opening the door as you fixed your hair. You stood off to the side in an attempt to hide before he swung open the door only revealing his figure. 

“What?” he snapped.  

“Uce we need more drinks from your car, let’s go.” 

“Man that’s what you here for?!” he kissed his teeth in response. 

“Cuzzos just got here and all the drinks are gone. Let’s go get ‘em!” Jimmy peeked back in to mouth “You good?” You nodded your head before he shot you a wink and left with his brother. 

You took a deep breath, your mind still fuzzy from that encounter before slightly opening the door and tip-toeing back down the stairs to the party. You thought they would’ve been out the door by now, but no. There they both were at the bottom of the stairs. Jimmy dabbed up one of the guests and Jey caught you coming down, keeping a steady gaze on you. You locked eyes for the second time tonight, this time was way more intense than the last. He let you walk past as you found Jasmine and asked if she wanted to take shots with you. You were chatting and drinking for the next twenty minutes, as Jimmy stayed close to you casually holding you by the waist or wrapping his arm around you including you in conversations. You giggled from a joke his cousin told before you saw him, again, subtly glaring at the two of you. What is his issue? 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you whispered in Jimmy’s ear as he nodded letting you go. You made sure not to look in his brother’s way before quickly heading up the stairs and shutting the bathroom door behind you. You rested your hands on the counter staring at yourself in the mirror, letting out a big sigh. You fixed a couple strands of your hair before the door swung open, startling you as Jey let himself in. 

“What the fuck?!” your hand flew to your chest at the sudden burst. 

“Man what you doin’ with him?” he snarled at you as his grillz peeked out, quickly locking the door behind him. 

“Don’t you fucking knock?” you snapped back. “I could’ve been using the bathroom.” 

“Then you should’ve locked the door,” he sarcastically replied pointing towards the door knob. You were about to come at him again before you looked at the doorknob and giggled, forgetting locks even existed. He chuckled at your drunkenness and moved a strand of your bangs out of your face, his hand dropping down to caress your cheek. You felt like you were seeing double as his touch felt similar to his brother’s, the same touch that made you swoon just half an hour ago. 

“What?” you softly asked, as you naturally rested the side of your face in his palm, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“I was waiting to see you all day, and you been with Jimmy the whole damn night.” he expressed. 

“What, are you jealous?” you shockingly laughed not expecting him to confess his feelings like that. The last word made him furrow his brows, slight hostility taking over his facial expressions. You tried to walk past and reach for the doorknob before he extended his arm and rested his hand on the door blocking your only exit. 

“Where you goin’?” his deep, spine-chilling whisper making you slowly turn your head, your faces inches apart. 

“D-Downstairs…” you stumbled as his deep brown and piercing eyes studied your lips before peering up to meet your gaze, searching for any kind of hesitancy. You felt like you were under a spell. A very, very intriguing and compelling spell. 

“That what you want?” he softly asked, cupping your chin. You felt your heart rate quicken, the throbbing between your thighs just as fast. 

“What else would I want?” you asked, holding his wrists as he grabbed your face with both hands. 

“Looked like you wanted my brother but I’m about to change your mind real quick.” 

“Who said I want my mind changed?” you dropped your hands to cross your arms and raised a brow. He looked down to the floor with a chuckle, surrounding you as he leaned against the counter. 

“Whatchu’ still doing here then?” he looked back up to ask, his face dangerously close to yours. 

“I-“ you paused as he caught you off guard with the question. You didn’t know what you were still doing here. All you knew at that specific moment was the enticing aroma of his cologne, his soft pink lips screaming at you to meet them, and his deep and insanely convincing voice pressuring you for answers. 

“I don’t want nothin’ from you. I just wanna make you feel good…” he muttered as your lips brushed against each other as he spoke, your mouth starting to part and he took that chance to slide his tongue in your mouth. You moaned with relief, sucking on his tongue letting your aching pussy and drunk, horny mind take over. He gripped your hips to pin you against the counter. Your mouths hungrily sucking and licking each other’s thoughts away, your pants and breaths growing heavier as the kiss became sloppier. He kept his right hand on the nape of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as he glided his tongue down your neck, a shaky whimper escaping your mouth. 

“Stop…” you whispered feeling a tiny inch of guilt swarm your mind. 

What the hell are you doing fooling around with both twins in the same damn night? Not even in the same night, within the same hour. 

He quieted those thoughts down as he unzipped your jeans, swirling his tongue on the sensitive, smooth skin below your jaw. He licked at your sweet spot, an audible smacking sound filling the room causing a moan to roll off your tongue. 

“Your mouth is saying one thing but this pussy is telling me another…” he growled in your ear as he dragged his finger up and down your soaked entrance, opening your folds ever so slowly as he nibbled your ear. Your eyes fluttered and a low yet high-pitched whimper escaped your lips as your forehead fell on his shoulder. 

“You want me to stop?” he breathed against your neck, teasingly gliding his finger up and down, over and over between your slick folds. You subconsciously bucked your hips forward, desperately needing the pressure of his fingers to pull the trigger. 

“Fuck…” you whined with a whisper, looking down at his tanned and tatted arm and bracelet moving with the vertical slides of his fingers inside your pants. Without warning he slowly slipped his long, thick finger inside your dripping hole. You held onto his shoulder for support, your mouth falling open as a whispered moan followed. 

“Jey..” you lowly gasped as he pushed in another finger, knuckles deep inside of you causing you to clench around his digits. 

“Yeah baby…” he pressed his forehead on yours as he sloshed his finger in and out of you, hitting your g spot. Your pants became heavier against his lips that he licked, a soft groan slipping from his mouth watching you in deep pleasure. 

“Say the word and I’ll stop…” he muttered as he bit your bottom lip, his sharp fangs making a breathy whine roll off your tongue once again.

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes snapped open hearing Jasmine’s voice on the other side and you clasped your hand over your mouth. It felt like someone just woke you up from a really, really good dream. 

“Y-yeah?” you asked. You thought Jey would’ve had the right mind to stop finger fucking you with someone calling your name right outside the door, but no. He was trying to hide his giggle and smirked at you, slowly removing his coated fingers out of you to suck your wetness off of them. Watching him take his time devouring your juices like it was his favorite snack made your knees buckle, literally. 

“You okay?” she asked. You quietly reached towards the doorknob to lock it. You opened your mouth to answer before he snatched your attention within seconds. You locked eyes with him as he dropped to the floor, taking off your jeans and you naturally lifted each leg helping him. You realized he wasn’t going to stop and snapped back to it as you nudged his shoulder shooting him a glare. 

“Yeah I’m good!” you tried to reassure her. 

“Okay, girl. Well I’ll be downstairs pouring me another drink. Or I might just get one of those Samoans to do it for me because damn they are fine…” 

You listened to about half that sentence as you both stared into each other’s eyes while he left soft kisses right above the hem of your panties. He started slipping them down, running his hands up and down your thighs before parting them slightly apart. 

“Shoot your shot g-girl,” you tumbled on the last word as he impulsively flicked open your slick folds and started lapping his warm and wet tongue up and down your entrance. 

“You sure you’re okay? You want me to come in?” 

“N-no no no,” you hurriedly breathed out. You tried to cover it up with a fake laugh. “I’m g-good!” 

“Who you talkin’ to?” you heard a man’s voice behind the door. 

Oh my god. 

“Oh my god…” you moaned out loud as your head fell back while he took turns scooping your wetness up with his tongue and wrapping his lips around your pussy lips making out with it like there was no tomorrow.

“Y/N, she just needed a little breather.” 

“Y/N you good?” he softly asked.

Yeah, I’m doing great your twin brother’s head is just buried between my thighs right now. 

He continued lapping up your pussy at a faster speed, gripping your wobbly thighs to keep you in place. 

“Yes, yes I’m good I’ll be out in a minute,” you quickly stumbled, gripping the edges of the counter as one of your hands slipped. Jey removed his lips to let out a little snicker, knowing damn well you were gonna be here for longer than a minute with that tongue of his. 

“Alright. Tell me if you need anything,” he voiced closer to the door. The sound of his voice near your ear and the way his brother slurped up every inch of your streaming pussy heightened your climax. You looked down to see Jey sticking up the middle finger at his twin who couldn’t even see him. You bit your lip trying to hold back your moans and cries making sure they were gone before you let them out of your system. He swiftly snatched your left leg off the ground and hung it over his right shoulder as he buried his face deeper inside, rigorously  driving his tongue in and out of your hole. 

“Oh my gooooood…” you loudly moaned followed by a shaky whimper as shockwaves took over your entire body. You used the foot of the leg hung over his shoulder to push against his back allowing you to ride his face. 

“Mmmm give it to me baby…” he coached you with a moan as you enlaced your fingers in his hair, letting out one final cry, your creamy nectar squirting all over and in his mouth. You felt your juices dripping down your inner thighs before he slurped every drop licking you clean. 

“He can’t get this pussy dripping like this, huh?” he muttered with a groan as he squeezed your thighs, savoring you as your breathing slowed down. Your eyes fluttered, feeling drunker than before as he gently dragged your panties back up and around your hips. He noticed you motionless and stood up to meet your faint gaze, running a hand over his drenched beard. 

“You okay?” he chuckled, running his hands up and down your upper arms as you looked at him with shock. 

“What the fuck just happened…” you shook your head, still breathless from that orgasm. 

“I made your pretty ass cum the way you deserve that’s what happened,” he smirked against your lips before pecking them as you felt the aftertaste on his lips. You found yourself smiling back, his lips so soft, warm, and wet it left you wanting seconds.

“You ready to go back down?” he asked as he tilted your chin up. 

“I need a minute. You go…” you mumbled pulling up your pants and turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. He noticed your uneasiness and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Relax…you good baby,” he reassured you as he kissed your shoulder and you felt calmer than you did ten seconds ago just from his comforting tone. 

“We’ll see you back down,” he shot you a wink and closed the door behind him. You furrowed your brows at his statement.

Who’s we? Oh, the guests. The party. That’s what he meant, duh. Right? 

You reapplied your lip gloss, fluffed up your hair, and took a deep breath before opening the door as the blaring music practically woke you up and brought you back to reality. You went down the stairs and looked around to find Jasmine but instead, your eyes landed on Jimmy and Jey by the speakers having a conversation. 

What the fuck is he doing? 

You felt your heart racing and didn’t realize you froze in the middle of the stairs before one of their cousins told you to watch out as he placed his hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even pay him any attention as Jimmy’s eyes landed on you. You tried to read his face but failed when he didn’t seem angry or happy. He seemed unfazed, almost clueless as to what just happened in the bathroom. Jey found you next, a small smirk creeping on his lips and you felt like you were suddenly trapped. You saw one of their friends walk up to them to dab both of them up as they got indulged in the conversation. You furrowed your brows, shaking it off. You were just overthinking. It’s been a long, long night. Yet it just started. You continued to walk down the stairs seeing Jasmine on the other side of the room. 

“Hey! Where the hell you been?” she asked with a giggle hugging you close. 

“Where you been?” you shyly asked covering it up with a laugh, looking around with nerves. Your phone vibrated in your back pocket indicating a text and you pulled it out. You squinted and blinked a couple of times making sure your drunk self was reading it right. 

Jimmy: Meet me upstairs in 5.

✧✧✧✧✧

to be continued? 👀

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[steddie-island]

Long Haul

Written for day 2 of @stevieweek | Companion piece to Wallpaper Rating: G | WC: 1,150 | Tags: Eddie Munson POV, Coming out, MTF Steve Harrington ao3 | Divider credit

If Steve and Robin both have to be there to break this big news to Eddie he knows it must be something really bad.

That's how it always goes, bad news. He's told to sit down and listen while the grownups talk at him. Not to him, no, he didn't get anyone actually trying to talk to him until Wayne.

Still, Eddie tries not to look like he's ready to throw up while Steve and Robin stand in front of the couch. The way their hands are clasped together, and with how straight and tense they're standing, Eddie can't help but think of the fucked up twins from The Shining.

The thought makes him laugh, but the laughter only heightens his anxiety– which is then heightened even more when Robin shoots a Look at him that he can't quite figure out.

"Stevie… sweetheart, I can't read your mind. If this is bad news, I'd really rather you just tell me." Eddie shifts uncomfortably. The fingers of his right hand fidget with one of the rings on his left, spinning it around and around. "I can take it, whatever it is."

The look Steve gives Robin drops a bowling ball right into the center of Eddie's chest. Steve has tears in his eyes, and he's shaking, and fuck . This is very fucking bad.

Eddie wracks his brain, tries to think back on what he said or did. Maybe there was something he didn't do that he was supposed to do and now Steve is dumping him over it. Really, it was only a matter of time. Steve is good, so fucking good, and Eddie never deserved him in the first place.

And of course Robin's going to be here for it, because Steve dumping him as a boyfriend means Robin is dumping him as a friend. They're a package deal, you don't get one without the other.

"Eddie!" Robin's voice breaks through his mental spiraling.

Eddie clears his throat, drops his hands between his knees again and looks at the two of them. "Sorry. Sorry, yes. I'm here."

"Did you hear… any of that?" Robin asks.

Eddie flushes, opens his mouth, digs for anything that one of them might have said.

Steve takes pity on him, and Eddie is graced with one of those patient smiles. It’s that soft smile that got him through the hell that was physical therapy. "We're making him nervous, Rob."

"You're nervous, too," Robin reminds him. Still, she gives Steve's hand a squeeze before stepping to the side. It's one on one instead of two on one, which does help the knot in Eddie's chest loosen a bit.

"I can take it, Stevie," Eddie says with a small smile. "Whatever it is, just… lay it on me."

Steve glances at Robin, then back at Eddie. His hands have that fine tremor to them again, so he wraps his arms around himself and tucks his fists against his sides.

"I've been thinking… and I've talked to Rob, and… I don't… I'm not…" Steve stops, has to take a few slow breaths.

This is it, the death blow. The last glimpse of the sun before it gets snuffed out, removed from Eddie's life forever. Eddie wants to close his eyes so he doesn't have to watch, but if this is his last sunrise he doesn't want to miss a second of it, either.

"Eddie, I'm not… I'm not a boy." Steve shifts on his feet and swallows loud enough for Eddie to hear it. "I don't want to be a boy anymore. I think— no, I know I am — I'm a girl."

Eddie can only blink up at her while Steve explains it, explains lip gloss and nail polish and old girlfriends. She talks about how she's given this a lot of thought, really, and if Eddie doesn't want to be with her anymore she understands.

Eddie's listening, really he is, but the relief is so instantaneous that he can't help but start laughing, quietly at first and then louder.

Steve stops talking and looks at Eddie like he's lost his mind. "What? What is it?"

"No, no, baby, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you." Eddie rubs both hands over his eyes, wiping away unshed tears. "I promise, this isn't about you." He reaches out for Steve's hand and pulls her around the coffee table to sit down on his lap.

"Why are you laughing?" Steve asks. The hurt in her eyes has Eddie sobering up immediately.

"I thought you were breaking up with me." Eddie brings a hand up to tuck Steve's hair behind her ear. "I thought that was why you brought the reinforcements. Maybe you were afraid I would lose the rest of my mind or somethin'."

"What?" Steve shakes her head and touches the jagged scar on Eddie’s jaw. "Why would I be breaking up with you? I love you, Eddie."

Eddie catches Steve's hand, pulls it to his lips to kiss over her knuckles. "Because you're the best person on the goddamn planet, and I don't deserve you."

"Eddie—"

"I'm serious, Stevie." Eddie wraps an arm around her waist to pull her that much closer. "You're amazing. You're smart— don't try to deny it, I've seen that beautiful brain of yours in action." He gently, so fucking gently, taps in the middle of her forehead to emphasize his point. "You're funny, you're so goddamn brave. You have the biggest heart in the world." He cups Steve's cheek, and she leans into the touch. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I still can't believe how lucky I am."

Steve's lower lip trembles just a little, and Eddie can't help but brush his thumb over it. "Even now?" she asks. Eddie hates the uncertainty in her voice. Steve Harrington isn't ever uncertain, unless it's about D&D or Lord of the Rings or some other nerdy shit that the kids try to throw at her.

"Are you kidding?" Eddie brings his other hand up, to hold her face between his palms. "Yesterday morning I woke up with the most gorgeous guy in Hawkins in my bed, and tonight I get to go to sleep with the most beautiful girl. That's… amazing ." He shakes his head and brings their foreheads together. "I love you, Stevie. No matter what you do, no matter what you change, I'm in it for the long haul. You're it for me, baby."

"Fucking sap," Steve says wetly, but she's smiling when she says it, when she leans in to kiss Eddie again.

It's a kiss full of love and hope, that speaks of a future that stretches out in front of them, just waiting for them to decide what they want to do with it.

It's a kiss that has Robin murmuring "Dinguses" under her breath before sneaking out the front door to give them privacy.

[mochinomnoms]

A random thought I had that would be funny is having a zoo/aquarium date with a beasty/fishy boy and they end up seeing their animal counterpart and it stares them down or gives the two of them a lot of attention.

I think Azul, Floyd, and Jade are probably used to interacting with their animal counterparts as the ocean is pretty open and free. I like to imagine a little Azul talking with cuttlefish and other small cephalopods, venting about school and his bullies as their tentacles held onto his own in a comforting squeeze. Jade and Floyd would often be warned to not interact with their animal counterparts, as they could be more aggressive and mean than their merfolk counterparts. They didn't care and would delight in bothering an old giant moray that lived near their grotto. He was a grumpy thing, but surprisingly kind, sort of anyway. He'd rough them up, sending them home with bruises and shallow bites, to get the twins to toughen up and learn to fight back.

They'd probably enjoy the aquarium date, trying to impress you by speaking with their animal counterparts. It only works out until he (Azul and Floyd most likely) are arguing with the fish about who would make the better partner for you. Jade straight up lies and tells you that the moray isn't feeling up to conversation, and why don't we go look at the jellyfish instead :).

Leona and Ruggie probably didn't interact with their animal counterparts growing up, as Sunrise City was a rather metropolitan area. Zoos are a rather foreign concept there, as Sunset Savannah's culture is set on setting up wildlife reserves. The closest you'll get is conservations for endangered species, or rescues for wildlife that were illegally sold as pets. I personally think that lions and hyenas would be held in high regard, due to the lore connected with the King of Beasts. Jack would've seen wolf packs as a kid in the Shaftlands, but wasn't allowed to run around with him until he was a bit older. For the most part, Jack was fond of them and felt a kinship with his animal counterparts. Especially running around with the cubs, it really helped build his endurance!

Leona and Ruggie are a bit concerned and confused about the concepts of zoos. People in Sunset Savannah would not be allowed to interact with the wildlife in reserves unless they were wildlife scientists, conservationists, or veterinarians. Both are staring down the animals, the closest they've ever been to them, curious and maybe even a bit fascinated. While they may not agree with the zoos, they are enthralled with seeing their counterparts so close, even with a thick glass wall between them. Jack is actually going to bring you back home to introduce you to the wolf pack! The youngest of the pack is but an old man in wolf years, but they remember Jack and his family fondly. The same pack and its children have been hanging around them for 3 generations, so Jack is eager to introduce you to what is basically his extended family, especially if you're to join them in the near future.

[friendrat]

I feel like I wrote this myself. I have written almost the exact same words more times than I can even remember.

People really don't understand that the "clump of cells" argument hurts people. People who are alive today, not just the babies whose deaths are being justified with it. We are real. Our pain is real, and it is proof that our twins lived and that they mattered.

I love seeing other people experiences and how these lead them to be prolife.

For me personally, one of the main reason is that i am a womb twin survivor.

I was supposed to be a triplet, but when I was 10 weeks in the womb old, my mom miscarriaged my two siblings. I discovered this only in recent years, since nobody even thought of saying this to me, but it lead to having so many explanations for why my mental health had always been not okay since I was a child.

I always experienced grief, sense of loss, loneliness, sadness and I never known why. My mom's pregnancy also wasn't easy and that had ripercussion also on my mental health as well. I am diagnosed with depression, ocd and anxiety.

So it hurts me personally to see people saying that babies are "clumps of cells" until 24 months, that they would remember absolutely nothing of being in the womb and it would never affect them because it's simply not true.

Babies are live being. And they matter.