#but I just never considered it as an option
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Hello there!
Can you do a fluff request with Tech please.
6. Dance with me? And 13. Shut up and kiss me already.
Your writing is amazing and so very inspiring x
Choices 🌊
🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 1.6k
Prompts:
“Dance with me?”
“Shut up and kiss me already.”
Summary: When a date stands you up, Tech finally takes the chance to make a move.
Warnings: Safe for Work, Fluff, Reader gets Stood Up, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Slow Dancing, Female Reader.
Authors note: Thanks for the request and kind words! Enjoy 😊
You twirl the ice cubes in your nearly empty glass with your yellow and pink striped straw, the thumping music of the club fading into the background as the realisation sinks in: you've been stood up.
You had decided to navigate the dating scene to which had been a rollercoaster. After realising your feelings weren't going to be ever reciprocated by the one you truly loved, you decided to broaden your horizons. Maybe taking your mind off him. So, you signed up for a dubious dating site on the holonet which only yielded disappointing results, to put it mildly.
Match after match failed to impress. They either droned on about themselves, were impolite to the staff, or made cringe-worthy remarks that you just don’t say on a first date. It was a string of bad experiences. And now, the guy you'd been chatting with for weeks had ghosted you.
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you signal to the service droid. "Could I have another one of these, please?" you request, motioning to your empty glass. The droid beeps in confirmation before attending to your order.
Sighing, you slump your head into your hands, regretting the effort you put into dressing up for this date, only to end up drinking alone. But, your solitude is short-lived.
As you're about to pay for your drink, a hand intercepts yours, and you look up in surprise to see a familiar pair of goggles and eyes, offering to foot the bill. "Allow me."
"Tech? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on you since you didn't respond to any of our messages," Tech explains, settling onto the stool beside you and leaning forward on the bar. "Where is he?"
You pause, considering whether to lie or not. After all, it was Tech whom you truly loved. Despite your attempts at flirting, his lack of response or reciprocation left you hesitant to confess your feelings.
Others would advise you to tell him straight rather than hint but the fear of rejection loomed large, so you let your emotions for him simmer but never fully blossom. "He didn't show," you finally admit with a sigh, tracing your arm with your fingertips.
"Oh," Tech responds, and you nurse your new drink, the silence between you turning somewhat awkward.
"Thanks for the drink, by the way," you say, breaking the quiet, and he offers a light smile.
"Not a problem. I apologise about your date not turning up. It is his loss," Tech says, his words eliciting a flutter in your stomach that you try to ignore.
You offer a dry laugh and a shrug before taking a sip through the straw. "Thanks, Tech. I'll probably finish this and head out."
Tech pauses, glancing around. "There aren't many patrons here. I’m relieved your date didn't show. It is not ideal to be in such a quiet club with few witnesses if something were to go wrong."
You pull a face at his caution. "Why say that?"
"You never know who you might encounter on the holonet. Choosing a very quiet club isn't the safest option," he explains, prompting an eye roll from you as you take another sip of your drink.
Then, you ask him, "So, where would you take someone on a date?"
He falls silent, his gaze drifting into contemplation. "I have pondered, in theory, that if I were to pursue someone, I would opt for a restaurant. Establishing eye contact is pivotal, followed by discussions about our lives. Then, perhaps, a stroll."
You hum softly, resisting the urge to picture yourself as his date, seated across from him, indulging in delectable cuisine as he shares his sentiments, followed by a romantic walk. "That sounds lovely. They’d be very lucky."
"I'm pleased you think so. Now, I pose the same question to you, as I doubt this club aligns with your idea of a first date," he counters as he does a brief scan of the area, prompting a laugh from you—he's not entirely wrong.
"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. It depends on whether I like the person or not. I'd prefer to be with someone I enjoy doing something with, rather than doing something with someone I don't," you admit, reminiscing about the countless hours you spent simply conversing with Tech in the cockpit.
A smile graces his lips at your words. "That's endearing."
You take another sip of your drink, emptying it in a few swallows before sighing and preparing to depart. "I should be on my way."
"Very well," Tech nods, but a sudden surge of courage overtakes him as he grasps your upper arm, halting your departure. "What about dancing?"
You glance at his hand on your arm, then up at him with furrowed brows. "What about it?"
"Do you... enjoy it?" he asks, his apprehension palpable as he carefully selects his words.
"I can't say I've had much experience with it. Why do you ask?" you inquire, feeling your heart quicken as he rises and steps closer.
"Dance with me?" he proposes.
You? Dance with Tech? Was this some bizarre turn of events, or perhaps a dream induced by something that Droid had put in your drink? "You don't dance," you blurt out, puzzled by his unexpected request.
He chuckles at your incredulous expression and your swift observation of his lack of dancing skills. "No, I do not. But, I don't see why we both can't give it a try together."
Part of you hopes that you detected a hint of nervousness in his demeanor, perhaps stemming from the fact that he's asking you to dance rather than his own dancing abilities. So, you offer a shy smile and nod. "Okay then."
His smile widens, his eyes gleaming behind his goggles as he releases your arm and gestures for you to lead the way to the main dance floor. The music pulses softly, with a gentle rhythm that invites movement. The deep purple strobe lights dancing off your bodies.
Neither of you seem entirely sure of what to do next, exchanging uncertain glances until he clears his throat and extends his hand to you. Your cheeks warm while your fingers slip into his as he draws you closer, his other hand finding its place on your hip as yours rests on his opposite shoulder.
You initiate a small side step, and Tech follows suit, occasionally glancing down at your feet before meeting your gaze. "This is unexpected... but nice," you murmur softly, even as your whole body tingles with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
A part of you cautions against letting your hopes get the better of you, reminding you that this shouldn't be happening. Yet, as you lock eyes with him, he holds your gaze, a rare silence settling between you. And he always has something to say.
Drawing you closer than before, your cheek rests against his chest as the two of you sway to the music, his chin gently resting atop your head. "May I ask you a question?" he ventures after a minute or two.
"Uh-huh," you reply, your eyes fluttering closed as you savour the moment.
"Why did you not choose me?" he inquires, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it reverberates in the stillness of the moment.
Your eyes flutter open, and you tilt your head back, peering up at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. The dim light of the club casts a soft glow on his face, illuminating the earnestness in his gaze. "What do you mean?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, hardly audible over the pulsating music.
He bites the inside of his cheek, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he readjusts his goggles with a practiced hand. "You've... flirted with me on numerous occasions," he explains, his tone careful and measured, "yet you chose to pursue someone else."
His words leave you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to comprehend the implications of his confession. He knew about your attempts at flirting? The realisation sends a shiver down your spine. "Tech," you begin, meeting his gaze with furrowed brows, "you never indicated that you wanted me to stop, or that you felt the same way. I just assumed..."
"That I did not share the same feelings you have for me? That I could not?” His voice is soft, yet it carries a weight that hangs in the air between you.
"Do you?" you whisper, feeling the flutter of anticipation in your chest, your heart pounding against your ribs as if seeking escape from the intensity of the moment.
He nods solemnly, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. "I didn't know how to tell you," he admits, "Expressing emotions is not exactly second nature to me. It was not until the others pointed out your advances that I realised it was too late to respond."
As he starts to explain, his words tumbling out in a rush, you can't help but notice the warmth spreading across his cheeks, the nervous energy that radiates from him. It's endearing, seeing him flustered like this, and it emboldens you to take action.
Releasing his hand from your grasp, you reach up to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. "Shut up and kiss me already.”
Tone soft but resolute, a playful glint dancing in your eyes has him leaning into you without a second thought.
His lips meet yours in a tender and hesitant touch. Warm. Soft. They were everything you had imagined. Everything around you seems to vanish, just you and him caught in the moment. Then, you can feel him smile against your lips as he draws you near, body flushed to his as his lips move along with yours with a gentle passion.
As he pulls away for a breath, both of your heartbeats shattering your eardrums, he smiles lovingly at you. “Do not hesitate to tell me to shut up and kiss you again.”
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#tech x reader#the bad batch#the bad batch tech#tech the bad batch#bad batch tech x reader#tbb tech x reader#tbb#nahoney22 writes#bad batch tech#bad batch
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your sick matt fic was so good!! can u make a part 2 sorta (or not) where hes finally recovered but now his gf gets sick and he has to take care of her?
a/n: got to writing immediately i fear
content ahead/warnings: sick!reader x matt sturniolo, vomiting, fluff, not proof read lol, other shit idk
part 2 to this
TOLD U SO
A rush of utter heat wraps you whole, and you feel unconsciously frustrated as you twist and turn from out of Matt's grasp. Hoping for some sort of light and feathery breeze to hit your sleeping body.
You subconsciously begin whining in your sleep, the feeling of only hot and thick air doing nothing to cleanse your body, your nose stuffing itself from a simple sniff of air. You raise a few fingers to rub your still-closed eyes together, meeting directly with your burning sticky skin. Your unreasonably high body temperature sends a quick shock through your body, still rubbing your eyes.
"You all right, baby?" Matt shifted to his side, his voice low, gravelly, and husk. Without even considering your options, you immediately shake your head no. His large hands make their way to your forehead, and he feels himself getting upset. "You're burning hot, sweetheart."
If you were half asleep before, you were now just opening your eyes. An undeniable wave of physical exhaustion punching you in every bone of your body. "I told you, we shouldn't have kissed. You were too close to me the entire night, I knew you'd get sick too." He huffs, stressed out for you, his hands pressing the hair that stuck to your face due to accumulated sweat out of the way. You frown deep.
"You got me sick." You point out, your soft voice matching his with its roughness crackles, you feel your sore throat form almost immediately and you wince. "No, you're the one who kept wanting to kiss me and rub all up on me." He shrugged in defense and you can't argue with that.
"As long as I get to kiss you some more today."
He chuckles, able to get up from the spot on the bed and head for his bathroom. "You're unbelievable, kid."
Your eyes dart to the sound of the running bathroom sink and the gross sloth feeling of continuing to lay in this bed any longer. As soon as you were back to normal, you would be deep cleaning this room front to back. You stiffen, making up the mental courage to lift yourself out of the bed.
Lifting your head up first, a wave of utter wonkiness punches you in the face, your head feels like it is spinning in your mind. The migraine was forming now, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, making it to the bathroom.
You mentally feel the strength of your legs and thighs even when still laying on the bed, and then you look at the ground. You huff a whine, your body too hot for your skin. "Matt." You call for him, he answers immediately with a "You okay, sweetheart?", the sound of foam and a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Help me make it to the bathroom." You murmur, softly peeling the blankets from off of you. Matt walks back in, and in seconds he scoops you up. With a hand under both your knees for support and a large hand on your back, he takes you to the bathroom as you yelp at the sudden action. You figured the soup you made him last night definitely helped.
"Feeling better, hm?" You mutter, holding onto his neck for better support. He turns his head to look at you, kissing your lips with a long peck before kissing your neck, you get a mild taste of toothpaste in your mouth, scrunching up your nose. "Enough, Matt. Or you'll get sick again." You warn as he places you to sit on the bathroom counter.
"Then it'll be a cute never-ending cycle of us getting really sick and kissing each other." He said it like he was fond of the idea, looking at you then himself at the mirror, going back to brushing his teeth.
"Not a good thing." You point out, turning your back to stare at your reflection. You looked bedridden, your hair a messy bunch and your skin sickly flushed. "You look gorgeous though, so that's a plus." He rinses out his mouth, bending down to the height of the sink as you take the opportunity to run your hands through his knotted hair, fixing it for him.
He stands back up again, turning to look at the shower before back at you. You raise a tired eyebrow. "You think I should try for a shower? I feel disgusting and I think I've recovered enough to take one." He looks for your opinion on his question and you offer him a lazy shrug. "You're an able adult with a mind of your own."
"Yeah, but, I need to know what you think." He stands in between your legs, resting his hands on both your thighs. "Whenever I do something without your approval, I always regret it." You can't help it, you kiss him again. "Take a shower." You pull away and he grins. "But make sure you dry your hair really well."
"I know, I know." He winks, taking off his shirt as you drop to your feet. The sudden weight against the floor is a lot for your feeble sick body, you use the counter to lean on for help, before your knees buckle and have you fall. "Careful!" Matt urges, his eyes widening and a quick hand holding you still by the waist. You offer a smile. "I'm okay."
You turn the sink on, splattering your face with cold water. The temperature difference being so ultimate, it has you squeeze your eyes shut and take it all in for a moment. Washing your face, you hear the shower faucet turn on and Matt enters it from beside you.
"Make sure the water is hot on your skin!" You yell over the clattering water from the shower, making sure he heard you. You were always bossing Matt around like a mother, being an older sister definitely taking a load onto your personality. You dry your face, going in to brush your teeth now, hearing Matt turn the faucet as steam begins to form around him.
"Not too hot, Matt."
"I'm not into the whole idea of accidental suicide, so don't worry about that." He says over the water.
"You can't die from that." You correct, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.
"God, even when you're sick."
You chuckle, giving Matt an opportunity to close his eyes under that hot water and let your laugh melt through his ears.
"I'm gonna take a piss." You announce, rinsing your mouth out and peeling your pants down to your thighs as you sit on the toilet.
"You better not fucking flush." He ordered, making sure you heard the warning in his voice.
You wiped, getting back up and flushing, darting out of the bathroom. You laugh at the sound of Matt screaming your name due to the sudden temperature change of water until sudden dizziness takes over your sight and mind. For a full second, your vision blurry so bad you genuinely couldn't see anything as your head spins in circles like a basketball.
"Fuck." You gasp, dropping yourself onto the unmade bed you and Matt slept in, trying to get your mind back together.
-
Not even a whole 10 minutes pass and Matt was out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as he searched for you, seeing you dead asleep on his bed. Just then realization dawns upon him that today he'll need to look after you, the same you had. Any feeling of playful irritation left him and he was now changing into his clothes, his blue eyes on you as he tried to figure out how you took care of him so he could repeat that action.
Medicine.. Soup. Soup. He wondered if there was any left. Finishing putting his clothes on, he shuts the door quietly behind him, not wanting to wake you up. The environment around him definitely made it obvious that Chris and Nick were awake, seeing them seated in the kitchen.
"Matt!" Chris happily calls, seeing him much better than yesterday. He smiles, taking a seat at the table as he watches Nick cook up breakfast. "Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks, putting sausage on a plate. "Yeah, all thanks to her," Matt points to the direction of his room where you're sleeping. "But at what cost." He sighed, feeling the guilt of getting you sick.
"What? She got sick too?" Chris wonders and Nick frowns. "Aw fuck."
"Yeah. She worked so hard yesterday, too. I feel so bad." Matt sighs, grabbing onto the fork Nick handed him and taking a quick bite from the breakfast. It wasn't your cooking, the flavor dull in his mouth as he chewed it down. The sound of murmured worries erupt from his brothers. "Whatever, is there any of the soup she made left?"
Chris almost jumps at the mention of the soup. "Dude, did you try it? It was so fucking good."
"Yeah. She made it for me. Is there any of it left?" Matt repeats himself, Nick shakes his head. "Nah, fucking Chris over here finished it all." Matt turns to glare at his brother.
"What?"
"You don't even like soup."
"Your girlfriend's soup doesn't count though, you've seen the way she cooks."
He was right, Matt couldn't argue with that.
-
Almost the entire day had passed and you had practically nothing in your stomach. Matt had tried anything, but your feverish appetite kept you from swallowing anything down. You claimed the food was either under seasoned, not cooked well enough, too cold, and more. Matt had gone out with Nick to the store to buy you pre-cooked meals, but the thing with you, you can smell if something isn't homemade from a mile away.
He holds the spoon of rice to your mouth, but you twist your head the other way, refusing to eat it. "Please, baby, come on." He begs, "You need to eat, you have to have food in your system so you could take the medicine."
You huff, shuffling under his blankets, looking for something. "I'll just take the medicine now."
He clicks his tongue, signifying no. "Nope, you will eat this whether you like it or not." He holds your hands down to shove the spoon in your mouth, but your head dodges it immediately, turning the other way. He groans your name, you stick your tongue out.
"I'm not eating that shit."
"Yes, you are." He grabs ahold of your jaw, locking it in place as his separate hand shoves the rice in your mouth. "Chew." He holds your jaw tight, closing it for you, knowing you were gonna spit it out. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him as you chew.
His grip on you loosens and drops his hand when he's certain you won't spit it out. Wrong move. You spit the rice out immediately onto the plate. He yells your name before accepting his defeat. "You have to eat, or else you'll throw up, stupid." He grumbled after a little while.
"Nah, I won't."
-
Was being completely and utterly stupid a part of sick symptoms?
You were snuggled up onto Matt's side, watching a movie on his laptop, sneezing and coughing in every direction but his, determined not to get him sick again. Even if that meant you're getting his entire room contaminated. His hand was met with your bare skin that your big shirt failed to cover, his palm sneaking into your shirt and rubbing our hot skin up and down for some sort of comfort.
Now, what made you stupid, was that you still took the medicine. And halfway through the movie, your stomach starts churning. Your eyes widen at the sudden clench of your stomach and you jump up, immediately heading for the bathroom as Matt's hand disappears from your side. Bending down to the toilet, Matt jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you immediately start gagging into the toilet.
You throw up an empty stomach, which hurts more. Matt worriedly holds your hair back as another hand rubs your back, understand ing quickly what was happening. You gag, everything you consumed the other day clears its way out of your body. Matt winces behind you, determined to keep your hair out of the way as he watches the pained look on your face.
The feeling chimes down, and you stand back up, dizzier than you were before, with Matt still using his hands for a make-shift ponytail before dropping it down. You feel yourself almost fall, grabbing onto his forearms for support, taking a few steps toward the sink.
Rinsing your mouth, Matt speaks, "Is it too soon to say I told you so?"
You decide to wash your face, too. "Shut up, bitch." He chuckled nervously from behind you. You felt disgusting and exhausted. "I need a shower." You mutter, rubbing your eyes as sick tiredness gets to you again.
"Not today!" He declares, motioning you back into the bedroom. "I feel so sweaty and gross." You mumbled, leaning on him, not really wanting to use any effort for yourself after that god awful vomit experience. He notices, preferring to pick you up than have you walk on your own.
"I could get you a new set of clothes?" He suggests instead, laying you back onto his bed. "Mmm." You hum in approval, laying fully on your back, too tired to even speak anymore. You felt worse than you did in the morning.
He grabs some folded clothes, all of which belonged to him as he looks back at you. Your eyes were closed, your breathing out of order as you tried to steady it again. You feel both of Matt's thumbs hook around each side of your waistband before slowly shoving them down, his cold fingertips brushing against your burning hot body. Taking the pants off you, he takes one of your legs and puts it in the leg hole of sweatpants that belonged to him, repeating the action on the other leg before pulling it past your thighs and to your hips. He ties the strings around your waist so it wouldn't fall off you.
"Thank you, Matt." You slur, barely able to open your eyes again as your mind begins going blank. "Anything for you, love." He softly takes your shirt off of your head as you lift your arms up lazily for some sort of help. Matt grins at your lazy action, putting a graphic t-shirt over your head. You seemed completely out of it, so he puts your arms through the holes for you, making sure your stomach is fully covered. "Sleepy, huh?" He says more to himself than you.
A small part of your mind hadn't completely fallen asleep, your ears picking up on it but not registering what he'd said, humming in response to make it seem like you were still awake. Matt fixes your position on the bed. It was only 8:00 PM at night, and he still needed to film a car video in a few hours. He knew exactly what he would bring up.
#inkray#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#the sturniolos#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#the sturniolo triplets#stomboli#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt#matt sturniolo blurb#nicolas antonio sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfiction#nick sturniolo smut
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cool | peter parker
a/n: this concept was so sweet to me, and i had to write something for it. okay, so yeah, this is technically irondad + spiderson... but i wanted to add to it.
repost because this fic flopped with, like, 10 notes. if you look at the og, it says 700ish because of the prev notes of what i reblogged. interact with this fic, it's what keeps me going!
summary: you find that a brown haired boy is always at the restraunt you work at, covered with cuts and bruises. you're curious, so what do you do?
warnings: cursing, minor angst (not really tho, mostly fluff)
pairing: fem!reader x post-nwh!peter parker
word count: 1.5k+ words
you're working late, you don't normally. it doesn't hurt though, having a side hustle outside of college. with shit parents, community college is really all you have as an option, so extra money is welcomed.
it's 20 minutes until closing time, and you're the only one left. you've read enough articles and watched enough true crime to be at least a little paranoid. not expecting anyone else, you spray a table, wiping it down with a rag. might as well get started with cleaning, right?
so when you hear the familiar chime of the door, you've got the right to be suprised. looking up, you're greeted by the sight of a boy. he's got soft brown curls, and (you find, once you meet his gaze) matching dark, hazel eyes.
you wave at him and move behind the register. he looks harmless, but don't most men that have bad intentions? not that you think he's going to do anything.
you're just a woman. it's the way of life, this thought spiral.
"hi, what can i get you?" when he's closer, you can see the cut he's got on his cheek. it's dried blood, but still enough to make your eyebrows shoot up. in fact, he's got a bruise too.
under his left eye, and by the yellow-green, you can tell it's fresh. it's not your business to ask, well, it is... but you're only asking about his order. he runs a hand through his hair, obviously trying to tame it.
there's a leaf at the top, tangled in there. you want to take it out.
he sniffs, eying the menu. you've never seen him here before, and you've been working here for a while. now that you're looking at him, his eye looks swollen - like someone socked him. "a- a cheese-"
you're not sure where the sudden courage comes from, but you cut him off; "do you want an ice pack? or, uh, maybe frozen peas?"
he looks startled for a second, as if he were just now knocked out og this long train of thought. he pauses to touch his eye, "um," you can tell he doesn't want to trouble you, but you're intrigued now.
"seriously, it's no problem." (on the account you have frozen peas, then it would be no problem. if you didn't... a pack of cold, raw meat-?)
"sure, yeah."
"cool. er- stay right there." you go to the freezer room, rummaging around for frozen peas. it takes you a minute, and you're afraid there are none for a moment, but there are. triumphantly, you bring them back out.
he's standing in the same place, although you're not sure why he would've left. "peas!" you sing-song. handing them to him, you smile.
he throws one back, though it's forced and kind of hollow. you're afraid you've made him uncomfortable, or that you're too much. are you too much?
he squints at your nametag, "thanks, uh, gertrude?"
you're confused for a second, "oh, she's dead."
"i- sorry?" he tilts his head, now he's confused too.
"no, i mean, this isn't my nametag. it's old. like, super old. manager's dead wife. this place is too cheap to get new ones, so we, like, basically catfish people."
he nods, "okay. what's is it then?"
"huh?"
"your name."
you mentally smack your forehead, of course that's what he was asking. "y/n."
"cool. i'm peter. peter parker."
"nice to meet you peter peter parker," it's your attempt at a joke, paired with a lopsided grin. it makes peter smile though, so you consider it a win.
peter presses the pack to his eye, a wince turning into a sigh. oddly enough, it sounds sexual to you, and your face is heating up. what's wrong with you? seriously?
"okay, well, um, i assume you still wanna order something?"
"yeah. maybe just a cheeseburger and fries?"
"you got it," it's closing time, but you don't mind. peter is cute, and he seems nice as well. you're more than happy to stay around longer. "on the house," you say when he tries to offer you money, "seems like you had a rough night."
"no, i-"
"no sweat, parker."
you ring up his order, get it ready, and by the time you're done, he's settled at a table. "here you go. enjoy!"
you go back to sweeping, but you want to talk to him more. "you live around here? i haven't seen you here before."
"uh... not exactly. i don't come here often. i, um," he presses his lips together, "had a friend that brought me here. once or twice."
you frown, "oh, i'm sorry."
"what?" peter looks up from his meal.
"i just- well, you used past tense so i assumed you don't... aren't in touch anymore?" maybe small talk was a bad idea.
"oh. yeah. i guess. he's not really... around. he passed a little while back."
it's like your heart physically aches. "that's sad to hear."
"yeah. 's okay though, getting by fine. or- or better."
"mhm. it gets better. lost my sister a few a years back."
"really? i'm sorry." they're empty words, you've probably heard them a lot, he knows that. you know he knows that.
"thanks."
"yeah," it's quiet for a little while longer.
"so, uh," he pauses, taking a sip of his water, "are you still in school?"
"college," you pause, slightly embarrassed, "community, i mean."
"oh. cool. i'm at midtown. it's not, like, super fancy or whatever..."
you cut him off, shrugging, "better than community. and isn't it like so stupid, how they basically tell you that college is a must, and then have you pay all this money? 'oh, you need it for a good future!'" you mock, "aw, really? then make it free!"
you freeze, realizing you've gone on a tangent. "sorry," you say, flushing.
"no, it's okay," he laughs. "it's cool you're... passionate."
"thanks," you put the broom away. "um, i have to go take out the trash. would you mind... not stealing anything?"
"i'll try," he jokes.
"cool. i believe in your ability of self-restraint."
"cool," he says, matching your tone.
"cool."
"cool."
"okay, that got weird after the, like, second time," you make a face.
"no, yeah, i agree."
"cool," you say, staring at each other in dead silence, before bursting into laughter. you hold up the trashbag, "yeah, so, one sec."
you push open the back door, tossing the bag in the dumpster.
he's so nice, you think. look at you, falling for a basically stranger. you walk back in, closing the door behind you. you notice he's done, so you throw out his things, cleaning down the table.
"hey, uh, when do you close?" peter asks.
you check the clock, "mm... 15 minutes ago."
"holy shit, really?"
"yeah. it's cool though. i was closing anyway, and the company didn't hurt. also... it looked like you needed this."
he looks down at his shoes, smiling, "yeah, no, i did. thanks. and sorry."
"like i said, it's cool."
"cool," you stop, "are you in a cult?" you blurt.
"um, sorry?"
"sorry, like, i just, you look... beat up. and i was wondering if you were in a gang... or something." you squint at the dried blood on his knuckles.
"uh... i am not."
"then how'd you get those?"
he looks conflicted, and you've probably crossed a line. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. obviously, it's not my business. i was just... curious."
you wipe down your last table, cursing yourself internally.
"no, it's cool. i'm..."
"seriously, it's not my business. don't tell me, actually. plausible deniability," you joke.
he says something, and it's so quiet, you don't hear it. "what?" you ask.
"i'm spider-man!"
"uh. what?"
"you don't know spider-man?"
"no, of course i know spider-man!"
"well, yeah. that's me. suprise." he says, doing a small show of jazz-hands.
"there's legit no way. i know i catfished you earlier, but that was on accident!"
he tilts his head, as if he's weighing his options. in reponse, you narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it's one big joke. after that, it's so quick, you barely notice. something hits your hip, not harshly, and then you're spinning towards peter.
"holy-!" you look down at your side, trying to figure out what it is. you're tucked into peter, and you realize it's... a web. "no. way."
"yes way."
"why'd you tell me? now i can't plausibly deny anything! also, isn't this supposed to be a secret? isn't that the point of the mask? how do you know i won't sell you out?"
"that was a lot."
"i know. but it was very valid."
"i don't know. i just wanted to. you're nice and sweet and pretty-"
"oh, so pretty privilege?"
"no! no, of course not!"
"well, um," you wrap your arms around his neck, "thank you for trusting me. i won't tell anyone."
"cool."
"cool."
his hands are on your hips, and he's leaning in, but you pull away, smirking.
"no kissing until the second date, i'm afraid."
"we're going on dates?"
"if you don't want me to broadcast to the world, yes."
"well, i would've asked to take you anyways."
you smile at him, enjoying the moment.
"wait, are those cameras?" there's absolute panic in his voice, and you giggle.
"those are fake. it's cardboard to scare people off."
"oh. cool."
"cool."
you end up kissing him anyways.
@whatsupstark@ell0ra-br3kk3r@idli-dosa@susvale@kdbsr-h@littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7
#tom holland#peter parker#spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#peter parker imagine#angst
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Hiii gorgeous ☺️
But I have this adorable idea for a story featuring Pablo . How about a future story where the reader attends a wedding with Pablo and his family? They decide to wear matching outfits. Before his family member's wedding, when they see each other in their wedding attire, he wants to give the reader a kiss. She asks him to kiss her gently so that her lipstick/lip gloss won’t smudge, and they share a very cute moment together. Maybe even his parents or Aurora tease them playfully, but in a fun and non-offensive way. Throughout the whole wedding, they are being so cute, and they steal the show.
Hope you like the idea, and maybe consider writing it in the future! I just genuinely wanted to share my idea with you ☺️
Wedding
Summary: You and Pablo were family friends since childhood and you were invited to attend wedding as his date..little did they know you two had a secret crush on each other.
"Do I have to wear this mamá!?" Pablo was already whining not sure how to tie his bow properly and Aurora was giggling and showing me his confused face on the face time call.
"Pablo, stop complaining and finish getting ready! Y/n is waiting for us to pick her up.." Belen said rushing around the house to make sure she gets all the gifts and the cake she made for the bride.
When they arrived, I came out in a black dress matching Pablo's suit and he politely came out and opened the door for me. We were friends for a long time but in the past few months I started to develop feelings for my close family friend and now we were attending wedding together! Just great!
I never expected Pablo to feel the same way since he had so many beautiful fan girls some of them photo models and influencers that were so much more attractive than me.
"Porque estas triste chiqui?" he asked touching my hand and I felt a shiver move down my spine at that simple physical contact. I always feel insecure when I think about this..so I ignored it often.
"Just tired.." I lied and he smiled moving closer and kissing my cheek. He was always a physical touch type of person so it wasn't weird to have him hug or kiss my cheek often.
"We'll survive this together.." he said and we both giggled while pulling up the the venue and a bunch of girls attached his window begging for photos. The same feelings returned..Pablo will never return my feelings when he has so many options.
When we walked in, Pablo pulled out my chair, brought me a drink and always checked if I needed anything. Aurora and Javi danced majority of the night while me and Pablo sat together and talked about random things.
"You look beautiful tonight chiqui.." he randomly said and I blushed.
"Thank you! You cleaned up nice yourself, only.." I said fixing up his bow tie a little not expecting him to take my hands in his and kiss them lovingly..luckily Belen interrupted out moment before i freaked out!
One thing I loved most about our relationship is that it was never boring when we were together, there was always something to talk about and no matter what it was never avkward.
"Um..do you maybe want to dance with me Y/n?" he said shyly and I looked at him with blushing cheeks.
"Since when do you dance Pablo?" I asked and Belen caught onto what we were talking about pushing us to try it together.
"Let's go embarrass ourselves together, shall we my lady?" he said and I swear my heart almost broke our of my chest when I heard him call me my lady. I stood up taking his hand and walking to the dance floor.
"Okay just try and follow me..." he said snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me close while I gulped trying not to faint from the feeling of being this close to him finally.
"So tell me what makes you sad chiqui.." he asked again and I felt nervous not really knowing how to approach this topic the right way..I couldn't tell him the truth and I hated lying to my best friend.
"It's really nothing Pablo.." I tried the same method and his hand went to the side of my face making me shut up and just stare into his eyes.
"We don't lie to each other chiqui?" he reminded and I sighed. He was right..so I decided to say partial truth.
"I just wonder what your fan girls have to say for me being your date for a wedding..?" I said and he rolled his eyes as his grip on my waist tightened.
"I don't care about that! And I'm glad it's you..because I know you and I feel comfortable with you. We were friends for so long.." he said and I sighed about to pull away but he pulled me back quickly making me look up.
"Stop!" he said sternly and I whimpered pouting at him as he sighed.
"Why?" I said and he drew invisible circles on my waist. I was breathing heavily looking at him as his eyes moved lower watching my lips now.
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered underneath his breath while focusing on my lips and I was in utter shock at his question. I wasn't even sure that I heard his right..did he just ask to kiss me!?
"U..um..do you want to?" I asked and his hand started caressing my cheek while his eyes were glued on my lips. Damn I wish he would kiss me already!
'So bad chiqui.." he said moving closer and looking into my eyes as to check if I was approving of his actions. When I smiled and didn't move but nodded he cupped my cheeks and kissed my lips passionately.
"P..Pablo.." I whimpered and he smiled pulling me in again and kissing my lips with passion while his hands went into my hair not letting me move an inch.
We completely forgot where we were, standing there, holding each other and kissing like we are the only two people left on Earth..and it was perfect..everything I ever imagined. Suddenly people clapped around us and we pulled away embarrassed.
"We really embarrassed ourselves.." I said and he grabbed my hand looking around the crowd who was aweing and smiling.
"Come with me chiqui.." he pulled me outside into the garden passing Aurora on the way who slipped "congrats hermano!" and made him smile wide.
"Come here.." he said pulling onto my waist while sitting on the bench and placing me on his lap. I rested against him blushing and smiling like an idiot the entire time..was this real?
"Is this real Pablo?" I asked turning to face him and he smiled nodding him head and pulling me close to leave a few more sweet gentle kisses on my lips.
"Why wouldn't it be real mi amor?" he said using the words I waited so long to hear leave his mouth..he was saying it to me..he called me mi amor like in some fairytale.
"B..because you're Pablo Gavi and I.." I started and he shut me up with a kiss.
"You're the most gorgeous and kindhearted girl I have ever met mi amor..and the only one I want" he said making me stare at him in awe. Just as I was about to lean in and kiss him first this time did Aurora pull my hand making me stand off his lap.
"Aii que lindo but they are throwing a bouquet! All ladies have a chance to catch it!" she said pulling me inside as I gave Pablo apologetic look and he smiled walking inside as well.
"Whoever catches it, will be a happy bride!" Belen said walking up to Pablo with his father who smiled pretending to close his son's mouth when he watched him stare at me form afar.
"I take it she said yes Pablito?" his dad asked and Pablo blushed nodding his head while his father tapped his shoulder proudly.
"Que!? you and y/n hijo??" his mom was surprised but happy at the same time that her son is with someone she knew and trusted so much to take care of him.
"Only you were clueless to their secret crush they had on each other Belen" his dad said making everyone laugh. The the bouquet was thrown and it landed straight into my hands making everyone call "Gavi Gavi!" and my face to go completely red. Pablo saw this and quickly joined me pulling me into his chest while everyone cheered.
"You would be a perfect bride in the future amor.." he said kissing the top of my head as everyone went back to their business and we slow danced with each other once again happy to finally do so as a real couple!
"Are you happy now mi amor?" he asked while we danced resting his forehead against mine and I smiled.
"The happiest!" I answered and he smiled pulling me into another kiss.
y.n.bebe
look at the starts..look how they shine for you💗
comentarios:
pablogavi: mi amorcito😍
y/n/bebe: 😳
aurorapaezg: the way she looks at mi hermanito💗💗💗
y/n/bebe: hehe❤️
gavigavifans: adorable!!
belengavira: future mrs Gavira 😍
aurorapaezg: she caught the bouquet!
y/n/bebe: 😳
pablogavi:😊
#gavigif#gavi#fc barça#fc barca#fc barcelona#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi
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Tim Drake-Centric Fic Recs
Your Honor, he’s just a little guy. My client can’t be charged with murder! He was just being silly!
16 november 1581 by DairyFarmer
(gen), 8k, Protective!Bruce, Angst
Bruce blacked out. He wasn’t sure what happened after those words left Jack’s mouth. All he knew was that the next thing he remembered was being pulled off of Jack Drake by several police officers.
----
Tim goes missing and there were times that Bruce wished he wasn’t such a good detective.
The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne by theskeptileptic
(gen), 25k, Tim Joins the Batfamily Early
Tim is an independent, clever, and super mature eleven-year-old. Unfortunately, his dopey neighbor, Bruce, can’t seem to understand that.
When he decides to disappear on a “solo camping trip” and run away to Canada, he figures it’s the perfect plan that will make everybody happy. He didn’t expect the Waynes would tag along with him and ruin everything.
Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans by Lilac_hyacinth
(Tim Drake/Bernard Dowd), 6k, Hurt/Comfort
That was a blatant lie.
Dana had seen a handful of Tim’s landscape shots a few weeks ago. Jack might’ve spotted the ones she’d pinned to the fridge. Bruce saw plenty, if crime scene photos counted.
But Tim’s favorites? His civilian-friendly favorites, the ones behind him? This was the first time anyone beside himself had seen them.
And Jack wasn’t there.
Or
Tim's alone at another school event, Bernard helps.
Cryp-Tim by PrinceJakeFireCake
(Tim Drake/Kon-El), 6k, Fluffy, Cryptid Tim
The cons of dating Tim Drake were innumerous. For one, he was almost impossible to photograph, and so none of Kon’s friends at school actually believed he existed. His family was scary, horrifying really, and all of them seemed to find joy in making Tim regret ever being born. And Tim had charmed Ma and Pa Kent so thoroughly, they had ditched their shovel talk to instead coo at him and offer him pie and compliment him for fixing their tractor, so Kon was at a disadvantage when it came to intimidating someone with his family.
Kon and Tim date. It goes pretty well, all things considered.
A Worthy Father by Crowlows19
(gen), 3k, Fluff and Angst
Jack Drake forces his son to give up being Robin. He could never have predicted the consequences of parenting a Robin-less Tim Drake. He may never sleep again and Bruce Wayne certainly has no sympathy for him.
all you wanna do by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep
(gen), 1k, Fluff, Video Game Sexualization
Tim. Timothy. You are a superhero, sweetheart.”
“And now I can be one in a video game.”
When the character screen loaded, the room was silent for several seconds as both found themselves disgusted with the options.
“Do they not realize that women have organs.” Bruce frowned. “And while I personally don’t have breasts, I’m aware enough to know that they don’t look like that all of the time.”
it's a beautiful day by MashpotatoeQueen
(Tim Drake/Kon-El), 2k, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Tim and Kon are getting married, Bruce is an utter sap, and there is a father-son dance.
#Tim Drake fic rec#Batfam fic rec#Tim Drake#Batfam#Bruce Wayne#timkon#timbern#jack drake is a bad parent#fluff#angst#words: 0-5k#words: 5-10k#words: 20k#fic#complete
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Twins Au: The Revelation
Presenting my addition to @pilot-boi's Twins AU. This was a section that they already wrote about but I wanted to turn it into a full piece.
Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There it was again. The faint sting that haunted her since childhood. This time it was on the left side of her face, across her cheekbone. Along with the pain, Yang felt a slight anger build up inside.
Why? Why was she angry?
Was it because of this phantom pain that’s followed her for all these years? Or was this even anger, was it just frustration?
Leaving the Public Relations elective, she chose at the recommendation of Professor Goodwitch and her team, Yang made her away, alongside her partner, Blake Belladonna, to the cafeteria. While it was a useful class, and one that she had openly admitted to needing, one con she faced daily was the journey across the Beacon campus to the lunchroom. Mentally she was praying that Ruby, or their sister team, JNPR had found a place for both teams to enjoy their food.
“-ng. Yang.”
Yang snapped out of a daze she didn’t even realize she was in. She turned and saw Blake with a concerned expression.
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah.” Yang replied, rubbing her cheek. “That stinging pain came back.”
“Ruby mentioned that it’s been with you a while, is it related to your semblance?”
“I doubt it,” Yang sighed, looking forward again. “I’ve felt it even BEFORE dad unlocked my aura. Originally, I thought it was growing pains, but now it HAS to be something else.”
The pair rounded a corner into the main hallway of Beacon. Students were still flowing out of classrooms, signalling to the pair that they still had time before the lunch line closed.
“You might want to consider checking in with Beacon’s aura specialist.” Blake suggested. “Like you said, you had this before you had your aura unlocked. It isn’t that far-fetched to say that those were actual growing pains. This could be something related to your aura or even your semblance.”
“How could this be attached to my semblance?”
“I’d recommend going to the specialist to get a better understanding, but from what I remember, semblances can evolve, by either adding onto or changing how they behave.”
Yang stayed silent, considering that option. It never crossed her mind that it could actually be aura or semblance related. Anytime it was mentioned, it was dismissed due to the pains she felt when she was aura less.
Yang winced again. The pain struck her right hip. Determination was soon mixed in with the previous frustration.
“There it is again,” Yang shot out. “It’s like I’m getting slammed in a brawl.”
“Do you want to head to the infirmary? I could grab you some food?”
“I might go after lunch. The pains don’t usually last long anyway.”
The two were closing in on the entrance to the Beacon cafeteria, when they started to hear a roar and saw other students rush in. The pair looked at each other and followed suit.
Pushing through the crowd, Yang spotted Ruby, and vaguely heard her yell something towards the spectacle. Making her way over she saw what, or rather who, was at the center of attention.
It was Jaune and Cardin.
Of course it was. Conflict followed those two like bad luck to her uncle.
Off to the side of the semi-circle sat the rabbit faunus that Cardin and his lackey’s routinely tormented, Velvet, Yang remembered.
“Vomit boy finally snapped huh?” Yang asked her sister.
“Yeah, although Cardin’s landed a couple hits on Jaune.” Ruby answered, before cupping her hands around her mouth. “KICK HIS BUTT JAUNE!”
“ARC YOU BETTER NOT LOSE!”, came an authoritative voice from beside Ruby. Yang looked over her sister, and saw the Ice Queen herself, hands acting as a megaphone around her own mouth.
Noticing the new arrivals, she dropped her hands, and turned to face them.
“Just because I keep rejecting him, doesn’t mean I want him to lose. Especially to Cardin of all people.”
“What ever you say Weiss.”
Weiss stomped and pouted, causing the blonde to snicker. Yang was pulled from her laughter when Ruby grabbed her and pointed back at the brawl.
“Yang… Look at Jaune.” Came an almost whisper from her sister, as Yang followed her gesture.
Taking a proper gaze at Jaune it was plain to see he was getting his ass handed to him, and someone, either from his team or outside, would need to help him. But that’s not what caught her attention, nor was it what caused the siblings to freeze.
Jaune’s face was bruised, and by the looks of it, Cardin landed a hit on the left side of Jaune's face, judging by the discolouration. Yang raised her hand to touch her cheekbone and pressed on it. The knight winced and Yang pulled away, before following Ruby’s finger and the air escaped her lungs.
It was his eyes.
The ocean blue eyes that both teams were used to, were no longer there.
They were filled with determination, rage, and confusion. Confused as to how someone could hate another based off their race, especially at an institution where they were learning to fight creatures of darkness. Rage at the injustice performed against a classmate and a soon to be comrade in arms. Determination to live up to his family’s heroic legacy, and end the injustice brought on by a fellow classmate.
The ocean blue eyes of Jaune’s kindness, dorkiness, and goofball appearance was replaced by those of fiery passion, to aid in his ability to fight for what’s right.
His eyes…
His eyes…
His... eyes…
His... eyes...
Had turned red.
Not just any red.
HER red. The red of a Branwen.
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•°♤°• Any Zosan Fic Recommendeds?
Here's some! (And one ZoLuSan because i'm me) Some are unfinished, some are classics. Either way these are the ones I always go back to!
Learning to Listen by three_days_late
Teen and Up
No Archive Warnings Apply
For as long as Zoro's felt his soulmate echoes he's hated them. He doesn't know why Sanji, or the rest of his crew mates, care so damn much.
Broke the Yolk by 3oClockSnacc (TobiSterling)
Teen and Up
No Archive Warnings Apply
Sanji has a nasty habit of denying himself little luxuries. Sleeping in, hot food, the unconditional love of his crew. He's used to it though; used to getting up at the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast, used to working on an empty stomach to ensure everyone else is fed, used to serving up pieces of himself and getting nothing in return.
He can't afford those luxuries. Not even on his birthday.
Digital Footprint 100 Miles Wide by yellowrubberboots
Teen and Up
No Archive Warnings Apply
[Profile Picture Description: A MS Paint drawing of a cartoon skull. The skull is wearing a yellow straw hat with a red band around the base.]
TheStrawhats
Last live 2 days ago
video games and other random shit // we stream when we stream.
6.2M followers
Unwritten Recipes by aririnas
Teen and Up
No Archive Warnings Apply
Ingredients
2 fat garlic cloves, crushed
2 red chillies, deseeded and finely chopped
150ml white wine (not optional)
175g dried spaghetti
140g mussels, washed and beards removed
140g clams, washed
chilli oil or olive oil, for drizzling
½ small pack parsley, roughly chopped
(..)
or
Sanji writes everyone's favourite food in a recipe book
You'll Whisper Lies to Me (and One of Them Will be True) by Veto_power_over_clocks
Teen and Up
No Archive Warnings Apply
Sanji introduces Zoro to Two Truths and a Lie. He only ever plays with Zoro, and all his lies are shit.
(Alternatively: Sanji subjects himself to the mortifying ordeal of being known by Zoro. He does everything in his power to ensure Zoro doesn't realize that's what's happening.)
Green with Envy Blues by adietxt
General Audiences
No Archive Warnings Apply
Zoro thinks he’s a pretty loyal person. All things considered, he’s a faithful crewmember and swordsman of the Strawhat Pirates.
Zoro looks up just in time to see Luffy launching himself at Sanji, wrapping his stretched limbs all over Sanji’s body. Sanji has just walked out of the galley carrying a plate full of fancy-looking drinks and he’s extending his arm as far away as possible from Luffy’s grasp, and Luffy leans over his shoulder, their cheeks pressed against each other’s, their lips almost touching —
Zoro is seriously considering mutiny.
Switching Places by TranqilChaos
Mature
Graphic Depictions of Violence
All it takes is one desperate battle in the jungle for Zoro to finally be on the other side. For him to be the one worrying at a bedside. For him to be the one waiting hours for the slightest sign of anything. For him to be the one missing meals and skipping showers and sleeping in the infirmary chair.
Or
Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji fight a tough battle in the forest that leaves all, but Zoro, horribly injured.
Your Eyes are Liquor, Your Body is Gold by Astauria
Not Rated
Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings
It was a stupid idea, Zoro had known it all along and now he was really wondering why he had accepted such a proposal.
No amount of alcohol in the world could ever be worth the decomposition he would see in Sanji's eyes when he learned the truth.
Zoro had bet on him, for one fucking drink.
Rewind (Be Kind) by donutsandcoffee
Teen and Up
No Archive Warnings Apply
What should be a run-of-the-mill skirmish with a devil fruit user turned Sanji into an eight-year-old, and the Strawhats are suddenly faced with a version of Sanji they have never met before: a Sanji before the Strawhats, before the floating restaurant, but after—something.
Zoro observes, learns, and relearns.
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Sinful Desires
So I’ve been dabbling in some more kinky / taboo themes lately which prompted me to write this as a special treat no one asked for. Basically I have no excuse for this and sorry if I got any tbosas lore wrong because I haven't read the book
nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / stepmom!reader / stepcest / breeding kink / mentions of underage sex work
You married Crassus Snow as soon as you turned eighteen. Looking back you could say that you were truly in love with the tall, handsome general. However for him you were just a warm body to sleep next to and tight pussy to drown his sorrow after the unfortunate passing of his beloved wife. His decision to remarry had definitely come too soon and you were definitely too young to even understand the implications.
After you received the news of your husband's tragic death, you decided to stay with the Snows, because you simply had nowhere else to go. Just like many others, your family had been torn apart by war and even the house you’d grown up in was now bombed to shreds. Your only options were to be poor or to be poor and homeless so you opted for the first one.
You were always on good terms with Tigris. Daily struggle to sustain the family had brought you two pretty close especially because you both were forced to do the same unspeakable things just to maintain the food on the table and the roof above your heads.
First you categorically refused to bring her into that, but realizing it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet with your own endeavors and after thousands of silent and desperate “I’ll be fine, if you can do it then I can do it too” you finally gave in and introduced her to some men for whom your ripe age of twenty five was already too old to satisfy their needs.
You both didn't have much choice anyways since Grandma’am simply refused to move into a smaller apartment, let alone leave the Capitol. Apart from that and her other weird quirks she seemed to be a pretty nice lady. At least as far as you knew the right patriotic buttons to push in order to stay on her good side.
Crassus’ son Coriolanus or Coryo, as Tigris used to call him, didn't seem to like you one bit. He considered you an intruder, an unfair replacement to his mother that did nothing but reminded him of his family's tragedy.
Over the years Coryo seemed to have learned to tolerate you, mostly because he felt somewhat grateful for all your efforts, but still he remained cold and distant. You didn't particularly mind that, because you had no idea how to raise a young man. You felt pretty happy that he didn't ask you any awkward questions and managed to figure out everything himself.
Sometimes during his teenage years you noticed Coryo secretly watching you while you were changing or getting ready for a bath. On some occasions he even touched himself while doing it trying to suppress his little moans by biting into his fist. You always knew he was there, but you never confronted him. You knew full well it would make your coexistence very awkward for both of you and frankly you found it pretty amusing.
After all, he was just a silly little boy for you until the time his nineteenth birthday came around. It started even earlier if you thought about it. After Coryo returned from his service in District 12 and got his hands on the Plinths' fortune he turned into a completely different man.
Coryo always had the taste for finer things in life and when he finally got the means to fund it, you only saw him wearing tailored dress suits and perfectly polished shoes. Even his whole posture had changed and when he passed you in the dining room followed by an intoxicating wave of expensive cologne, instead of the anxious malnourished boy you had known for most of your life you saw a fit and handsome young man that reminded you of your late husband so much.
Your run down penthouse was completely refurbished to suit your stepson’s taste and he showered all three of you with lavish presents, encouraging you to throw out your old things.
Finally he could have the life he had always envisioned. And every last memory of your humble existence after the war had to be exterminated and written off into oblivion.
Coryo had become confident, strong and ambitious. Some might say even ruthless. It was hard for Tigris to accept those changes and she grew more distant with her younger cousin. They barely spoke, she was mostly just looking at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes.
Coryo didn't seem to care about that much. He didn't care about other people's feelings in general. But there was one interesting detail. The colder he became to others, the more delicate and gentle he was with you.
He always wanted to be in your vicinity, lighting your cigarette, opening the door for you or helping you to put on your coat. He always had to do a little something just to remind you he was there. He even pretended to care about your opinion, giving you the most dashing smile every time you seemed to agree with what he had actually already decided.
And the weirdest thing about that all was that he had started to refer to you as “mommy”. He had never called you that before and there was no particular reason for starting it now, especially because it seemed to make Tigris extremely uncomfortable.
And it sounded pretty eerie for your ears too, especially because Coryo always accompanied the word by giving you this one specific look that radiated childish naivety mixed with a hint of pure lust.
It always made your heart skip a beat, especially because in some weird twisted way you wanted it too. The sheer hunger in his icy blue eyes made your pussy tingle and after those interactions you always had to go to your room and touch yourself, your pleasure overshadowed by shame.
After all, you weren’t dead yet, you were just a woman in your early thirties and you hadn't been touched by a man since you had stopped selling your body. But for god's sake he was your stepson! You really needed to find some dick, before things spiraled out of control.
One day you returned to your room after running some errands and found a gift box on your bed. It was adorned with a crimson satin ribbon and a single white rose. You found an envelope laying next to it.
You opened it with trembling fingers, the strong rosy scent of Coryo's cologne filling the air. Inside the envelope there was a card with a few words in your stepson's neat handwriting.
From Coryo to Mommy with love…
You sighed and opened the box, finding a snow white, neatly folded piece of clothing inside. You couldn't really call it a nightgown, it was more like a negligee. You lifted the delicate item against the window, seeing the sunlight pass right through it. Of course it was nearly transparent apart from the exquisite hand made lace embroidery.
Coryo's taste was flawless as ever, you had to admit that, but this had to stop! You were gonna tell him tomorrow. But it wouldn't hurt anyone if you tried it on tonight, right? Just for one night, no one would find out, and you would demand him to return it tomorrow morning.
That night you put Coryo's present on and marveled at yourself in the mirror. It looked like a lacy cloud hugging your naked body so nicely the outline of your feminine curves visible through the sheer fabric. You turned around then moved your hips in a suggestive way flirting with your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so desirable.
After pairing the negligee with a pair of white cotton panties, you went to bed. Just as you were drowsing off into your sleep, you heard the door creak before someone opened and closed it quietly. You rubbed your eyes and switched on the night lamp just to notice Coryo standing by your bed wearing nothing but his tight white undies and a loose fitting silk robe. His hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual, instead his blonde curls were falling freely around his face.
“Mommy?” He gazed upon you with the most innocent look in his baby blue eyes. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
Coryo had never slept in your bed, even when he was a young boy often haunted by terrible nightmares, Tigris was always the one who comforted him and sang him to his sleep, you were just sitting on your bed listening quietly until you were sure the boy was alright.
You knew full well what his true intentions were. You had to act like an adult.
“I really don't think it's the best idea, Coriolanus,” you tried to sound strict and inexorable.
“Please, mommy! It's so cold and I can't sleep. I feel embarrassed to go to Tigris and ask her for a lullaby, not to mention we’re not on the best terms right now,” he was looking at you, his blue eyes wide and desperate.
“Please, please, just this one time!”
You sighed deeply and gave him a faint nod.
“Alright, just this time!”
To your surprise Coryo threw the robe off his shoulders and pulled down his underwear, revealing his long, handsome half hard cock, its tip looking so velvety and just as pink as his lovely lips.
You were so caught off guard that you didn't even manage to make any protests before he jumped into your bed and glued himself to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Mommy…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, making you shiver. “I’ve been having the worst nightmares… About the war, about all the things we had to do to survive. I’ve tried everything to make them disappear, but they keep coming back…”
You knew this was your last chance to stop this, you had to push him away, order him to leave your room immediately and never come back, but instead sinful words of encouragement just spilled out of your mouth.
“It's alright, babyboy! Mommy's here and you're safe with me,” you hummed gently as your hand caressed his golden curls.
God, this felt so wrong on so many levels especially feeling your stepson's now fully hard cock pressing against your thigh, waiting for what seemed to be inevitable at this point.
“Thank you, mommy, you’re always so good to me,” you heard Coryo say just before feeling his lips on your neck. He kept kissing your soft skin and teasing it with his tongue, you felt your pulse running wild and you knew he probably felt it too.
Coryo's hand, previously resting on your shoulder, was now traveling down, his fingers dove under the lacy fabric of your negligee and started drawing circles around your nipple making your breath speed up.
“Coryo what are you doing?” Your mind still felt as you had to resist the pleasant feeling although your body was enjoying it so much.
He looked at you ever so innocently.
“I read that fidgeting something with your fingers can be really calming,” he said, playing with your nipples and tweaking them gently. “I just wanted to test that theory, it seems like it truly works…”
You just sighed, feeling your whole body filling with the insuperable feeling of pure lust, your nipples were rock hard under Coryo's masterful fingers and you felt a treacherous wetness pooling up in your panties. You hated that your own body was betraying you like that under your stepson's salacious touch.
“Mommy, you have such beautiful breasts…”
You inhaled sharply as Coryo's lips wrapped around your nipple, starting to suck hungrily, while his hand traveled further downwards. It easily found its way between your thighs and dove under the waistband of your soaked panties.
“Oh,” he cooed, dipping his fingers in your wetness. “Mommy really needs her babyboy to help her out, huh?”
“Shut up, Coriolanus!”
You grabbed a fistful of Coryo's curls and pulled him away from titty to smash your lips together in a passionate kiss, he felt so needy and desperate as he was exploring your mouth panting softly as you felt his erect cock pressing to your thigh, leaving a trail of precum from its leaking tip.
“Oh fuck, Coryo,” you whispered his name against his lips feeling him pushing his long slender fingers inside you. Your wet cunt that swallowed them so easily. You were literally dripping around his digits as you felt the embarrassment slowly leaving your body and getting replaced by a feeling of raw insatiable desire.
“I'm here for your mommy,” Coryo whispered, his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling against your soft walls and teasing your sweet spot.
“I will help you fulfill all your needs. That's what family's for right?”
With one swift move you pulled down your panties and crawled on top of him pinning him to the bed and covering his mouth with your hand.
“Don't mention family, you filthy little boy! If you want mommy to give you a treat, you need to stay quiet, is that clear?”
Coryo nodded and you took your hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around his throat instead. The young man gasped watching as your free hand steadied his rock hard cock at your entrance before you slowly sank down on him, your wet pussy taking his whole length with ease. A soft moan escaped your lips as he stretched out your tight cunt.
You kept your hand on his throat in a tight grip as you started to move at an easy pace, eliciting a series of moans from his lips. Coryo's pupils dilated as he saw your pussy sliding up and down his length making it glisten from your juices.
You tightened your grip around his throat as you sped up your movements enjoying his little gasps as he was fighting for air completely under your control. The sight before your eyes made you impossibly wet and lewd slapping sounds filled the room as you bounced up and down his shaft faster and faster with each movement.
Chasing your own pleasure you let go of Coryo's neck and threw your head back, letting the straps if your negligee slide down your shoulders revealing your lovely tits bouncing up and down as you kept riding your stepson's cock.
Coryo's eyes widened at the sight and he let out a deep groan as your tight walls clenched around his cock, his tip hitting against your sweet spot as you kept moving.
“Oh mommy, you’re making me feel so good,” Coryo spoke, breathing heavily as you were too busy chasing your release to make him keep up with his vow of silence.
“I want to cum inside you, to put a baby in your belly. To make you nice and round full of new life that would make our family complete and strengthen our ties forever.”
In your mind you realized how twisted these words were and that they could actually become true considering that you weren't on birth control since your sex work days but your brains were completely shut off by pleasure as you kept moving up and down Coryo's wonderful dick your manicured nails digging into his smooth pale chest.
Coryo's nostrils flared, watching your boobs bouncing up and down as he felt his climax approaching.
“I can't wait for those beautiful tits to be swollen and full of delicious milk oh oooooh…” he cut himself off, moaning loudly as thick ropes of cum filled your cunt spurting up against your velvety walls.
You rode him through his orgasm and your red nails dug deep into his skin leaving red scratches. After mere seconds you came hard all over his cock and squelching sounds filled the room as your juices were mixing together with his cum. You collapsed on top of your stepson, his cock still inside you and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.
“Just let me stay inside mommy's pussy a little longer,” he whispered. “Don't let the seed go to waste.”
“Fuck you, Coriolanus!” You hissed and bit into his neck using his distraction to wiggle out of his grip and crawl off of him making him whine at the loss of contact.
Coryo didn't put up a fight, he just watched you as you pulled the straps of your negligee back on your shoulders and then pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.
You sighed and brushed a stray curl off his forehead looking into his big sleepy eyes. There was no way of denying the fact that you had just slept with your stepson, especially since you could still feel his heart beating softly against your skin and his cum dripping down your inner thighs.
It was so wrong. But still deep down in your heart in some sick and twisted way it felt so incredibly right.
#alright I will show myself out#let me know if you want more of this though#coriolanus snow#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#thg#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#thg tbosas#oneshot#cts post
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Hey y’all!
So here’s the thing…
Witch hunting is never okay! EVER! I’ve been talking with Mo and we both feel this needs to be said.
Back in late 2023, a group we considered friends exploded (I’m sure our regulars remember when everything died and everyone was being passive aggressive) and alot of people know who for sure was in that group.
That being said…
While we did have suspicions based on what was used in the doxxing, we are not outright blaming ANYONE! Nor are we encouraging people to send death threats to people who very well could be 100% innocent.
We very much would love to have answers as to who and why they did it but we are not always blessed to receive these answers.
If you have spoken to someone who shared a name who could very well be an option, DO NOT go and threaten them, anonymous or not.
Just like what I and @sorchathered have said, Karma is a bitch and they have whats coming to them.
We do not have a vendetta nor are we dwelling on who did it. Mo is doing her best to move on from this shitty situation so please respect that and do the same for yourself.
Once again!
For everyone’s sake, safety, and mental health, PLEASE leave it alone and move on.
Thank you
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Who’s the man at the prison gate in the Pit Babe Series 2 Trailer?!?!?
Hi, I’m an idiot with an internet connection So, here is my totally accurate and scientifically sound analysis in support of my theory that it’s Pete. Grab your tinfoil hats friends and follow me down the rabbit hole.
First, I’m going to need you to turn your brain off and live in a world with me in which we won’t even consider that this is a new character who has not been introduced yet ( jokes on me because change2561 would pull this type of thing).
Now we need to narrow down the pool of candidates from our currently known characters. Obviously if our Prison throuple of Kenta, Winner and Dean are out of prison and spying on the X-Hunter squad we can safely assume the person who got them out isn’t likely to be in the inner circle of the X-Hunter team, so we can safely disregard Babe, Charlie, Alan, Jeff, North, Sonic, and Kim. Now we have three players in the running- Way, Pete and Tony.
So let’s get to narrowing this down, behold Exhibit A
Our man in black stays out of focus for most of the clip, but from what we can see it seems that this man is dressed in a suit and as we never see Way ever dressed in those types of clothes the whole season I think it’s fair to also vote him off the Island.
Now to our final two candidates, it’s time to analyse some heights baby!!! We are going to use Kenta as a control subject, height wise, for this as he is the most likely of the prison throuple to have had scenes with both the remaining candidates.
So let’s start with Tony, it’s ridiculously difficult to get shots of these two together where Kenta isn’t half a mile behind and throwing off the perspective because of that, but I tried my best.
As you can see from these over the shoulder shots, Tony and Kenta’s eye level looks to be about the same, with them being almost exactly the same height ( Tony being slightly taller at a push). With this shot also confirming that they are very similar in height to each other.
Moving onto Pete, we can see that our baby boys have a bit of a height difference, with Kenta being the shorter of the two. His eyeline whenever talking to Pete is directed upward.
Now let’s head back to the original shot of the mystery man’s back and use our new found knowledge, and attempt to solve this by using the ancient scientific method of drawing lines on pictures.
As Winner isn’t standing at full height I’m disregarding him from the experiment, much like I wish I could disregard him from the narrative completely.
So let’s draw onto our screenshot where Kenta and Dean’s eyeline should land if they were looking at someone that was of similar height to them.
And now let’s draw where their actual eyeline ends up, taking into consideration where our mystery man’s shoulders are to give us a rough estimate of where their eyeline should land if they were looking at his face, which they are.
Now as you can see from my totally foolproof scientific method, both of their eyelines are pointed slightly upward indicating that the person on the other side of the gate is taller than both Kenta and Dean. Now there is only one of our candidates who is taller than Kenta and that leaves us with only on option left… Pete.
I rest my case.
( Also just on the logical side, why would Tony get the man who betrayed him and stabbed him out of jail, like that makes no narrative sense)
#I have half a science degree and I’m not afraid to use it#I will take no constructive criticism at this time#only my Nobel prize#you’re damn right I’ll try and shoehorn in PeteKenta crumbs to the trailer#pit babe the series#pit babe series 2#meta post#my meta posts
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X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).
I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.
Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.
--
“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.
Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”
No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.
Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.
When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”
Morph winces.
“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”
“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”
From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”
“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”
“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”
“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”
The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”
“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”
To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.
Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.
Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.
How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?
Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.
“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.
He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.
“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”
Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.
“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”
Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”
“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”
That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.
“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”
Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.
“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”
The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.
“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”
Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”
“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”
“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.
“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”
“Who else knows?”
“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”
At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.
“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.
Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.
“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.
Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.
“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”
Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.
He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.
Badum-tch.
Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.
Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.
Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?
“Morph. Look at me.”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.
“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”
From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.
It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.
Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.
One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.
The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?
Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.
Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.
If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.
Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.
The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.
But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.
He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”
As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.
“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”
Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…
He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.
That’s real enough for him.
#x men 97#x men#morph#wolverine#morpherine#my stuff#wait what this actually ended up good#have I actually been a good writer this whole time and just too depressed to notice?#what the fuck that's not fair
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Some Chapter 4 Heinrix romance scene spoilers under the cut!
With some lines that I've never actually seen before???
This is what you get for falling for a crime lord who lived in spite of, rather than for, the Imperium
Pretty standard so far, right?
Hey Heinrix she just wants to talk. Hey Heinrix what do you MEAN this is finite, don't you understand what's happening here??? Can you not understand how you can inspire a kind of love and devotion (previously unheard of) that doesn't warrant an end?
Anyways here's the start of the new part that I haven't seen before.
Do I want it?
The option to lay out the thought that duty is still a choice that he is making and for once in his life maybe he can think about himself as a part of that equation.
And I don't know what was more surprising, the idea that she told him flat out there is more to life than just his work...
Or the fact that he actually considered it and is recognizing not only that his own thoughts and feelings matter but also the ways that the Imperium has wronged him as well.
The rest is typical in the narrative sense but just as groundbreaking for my von valancius (even if being up front about her thoughts and feelings, even when they're contrary to his, isn't necessarily new)
#D plays RT#Rogue trader#heinrix van calox#heinrix x von valancius#Ch4 spoilers#Listen as much as I love the like ''we cant let our duty come between us'' vibe and I do#i am living for this ABSOLUTELY BAD END (for W40k universe) of him realizing duty isn't everything WORK isnt everything#he can find value in himself as a person rather than the most brilliant and perfect cog in the machine#(mechanicus priests dni with the prev tag)#OC: Aresia von Valancius
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we play with fire because we like the way it burns
a mob boss!Nico x nurse!fem!reader au
things to know before you read
Y/n loves helping people and decided to go to nursing school in Michigan
There, she met Luke Hughes, business student, because they were in the same orientation group
There was no attraction. It was more a mutual feeling of “I am surrounded by shallow idiots and you seem to have substance”
So they became best friends despite their clashing majors and schedules
It got to the point where Ellen included items for y/n in her care packages to Luke and even special care packages just for y/n
Everyone thought they would get together, but they saw each other as siblings
“Ew, gross, he’s basically my brother”
They started movie nights because y/n wasn’t a party person and barely had time with her workload
It generally occurred at her place because she chose to always live alone. Roommates were not her style, and Luke had too many to have a peaceful movie night at his
Once y/n got accepted to nursing schools, before she even decided to go to umich for sure, she knew that she wanted to apply to hospitals and clinics all over the states to keep her options open and see where the universe takes her
Once she becomes besties with Luke and as school progressed, she realized she wanted to be relatively close to him because she couldn’t picture her life without him being her annoying best friend nearby
Jersey was already a state she was considering, but knowing Luke wanted to join his brother Jack after college pushed her a little further in that direction
After graduation, Luke moved in with Jack with the hope of joining the same mob his brother is in, while y/n found a place on her own not too far from the hospital she would be working at
Y/n knew about the mob from Luke and the stories he could share from Jack
But she didn’t think it would affect her life as much as it did once she started living in Jersey
The amount of questionable injuries she saw as an ER and trauma nurse were enough for the police to take her statement at least once a week
She carries a pocketknife and pepper spray on her, per Luke’s insistence
She has to remember to leave them behind each time she goes to a place with bag check and/or metal detectors
And she would generally be with Luke in those situations to make sure she wasn’t alone
Luke naturally has a spare key to her place, especially since there is no doorman in y/n’s building
He even made sure she got into the habit of checking her peephole each time there was a knock on her door
Y/n knows Jack from him chauffeuring his brother from time to time and other meetups
She hasn’t officially met Nico but she knows who he is, as does the rest of the city and greater area
Nico knows of y/n through Luke because he makes sure that he knows his brothers and any potential weaknesses that could be used against them
But he’s never actually met her because Luke does his best to make sure she’s not dragged into the life
The nhl exists, but the players used as mobsters are not in the league
Mob “families” are not traditional in this universe because they are based on hockey teams than actual families
The main mobs in this universe are the devils and the rangers
The teams replacing them in this universe are the New Jersey angels and the New York Americans
Most of my knowledge of mobs comes from tv, so this is not accurate or realistic by any means
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Video games that suck and why they suck
Dark Souls spawned a wonderful genre with an excellent, new (besides Demon's Souls), combat system that has been improved to have everything you could think of asking for, by games like Stellar Blade. Dark Souls, even though it was first, however, sucks. Here's why it sucks.
Dark Souls was made by a self-proclaimed masochist who said, about the game, "these are ways I would like to die," and then set the entire game design team to the objective of killing the player at every opportunity. It's like hostile architecture as a video game. The game is trying to kill you at almost every step, but it had this amazing new combat system, so that was tolerated. Now the blind sheep that are the masses worship it.
Elden Ring and Sekiro, on the other hand, did not have this incredibly sadistic touch to them, and are far more fun to actually play. And these trainwrecks who love Dark Souls would say it's a skill issue, to not enjoy crawling your way to the next death spot like it's progression in Final Fantasy XIV raids only through a fu**ing level, let alone the boss fights, and would blame the victim of literal and admitted game design sadism.
Red Dead Redemption, Spiderman, God of War, and also Grand Theft Auto (at least the campaign) and Uncharted-- all of these games also suck. This is because they are not made with gameplay in mind, because the target audience hardly gives a sh** about gameplay and just wants an interactive movie. They are, as a popular and often contrarian video game critic put it, "ghost train rides". They are theme park attractions that are purely there to entertain from a distance, and not really to be interacted with like you would expect from a video game. Gameplay is secondary, and it's often almost tertiary it's so far from being considered important. That is why these games suck.
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Another somewhat extensive area for video games to suck in, is the Fallout and Elder Scrolls type of games. These games, instead of making story so fu**ing primary that gameplay, the whole point of video games existing at all, is ignored, do the exact same thing with their open-worlds and RPG mechanics. Just imagine a turn-based game like Final Fantasy 7, only the gameplay that can actually kind of stand on its own is actually gameplay that sucks co** and could never stand on its own.
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I play video games for combat. To have fun and display skill. Everything else is set dressing for that one primary thing, and games that suck either intentionally obstruct fun combat, like Dark Souls does, or might as well not even include it it's so bad.
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Some other games that suck are fighting games, because in order to get your ration of 3 seconds of neutral game per match, which might be pretty good but in my experience isn't anything to write to my girlfriend in jail about, you have to spend 8 million hours mastering filler moves that waste both players time and just drop the health bars to what they might as well be at the start, which is 3 hits until death.
Tactical RPGs are not that bad, I don't think, but dear God are they stressful sometimes. It's also slow and can get tiresome unless you personally are slow and tired and prefer that pace over action games.
First Person Shooters need defense options other than fu**ing sprint or better offense (throwing a flashbang is an offense action, as is laying a mine) for every situation, which Remnant: From the Ashes really put in sharp relief.
MOBAs, like League of Legends, need to be done differently rather than copying a game that had a barely passing grade on its combat system (DOTA 1 on Warcraft 3) because it took it from an strategy game where you're supposed to be spending 3/4 of your time managing your base and resources and only fighting a small portion of the time. Battleborn actually showed what MOBAs are capable of to some degree, although it didn't have dodges or anything, but got overshadowed by Overwatch which everyone either immediately regretted or regrets now since Overwatch is agony to play.
One game that largely sucked but did not entirely suck, contrary to what everyone and their goldfish will tell you, was Anthem. At one point it had a triple jump, triple dodge, comboing melee character that could frontflip into sniping something in the head or spraying it with submachine gun fire. Yes, that was motherfu**ing Anthem that had that, in the Interceptor Javelin, though the people in the other Javelins did not look to be having much fun.
The last games that suck, which I think everyone largely knows they suck, are Ubisoft games. Now Far Cry isn't that bad, because it still has a reasonable focus on gameplay, but Assassin's Creed games have combat that is almost as ass as Rockstar games' gameplay.
Just, all you have to do, lol, is take some reasonable approximation of soulslike combat, with an actual functional deflect if you include one, unlike Rise of the Ronin, and do whatever your little gimmick is on top of that. People will fall over themselves saying how amazing it is. Just make ACCEPTABLE gameplay with whatever your horsesh** is that your audience of nitwits loves, and it will be something as if from an advanced society in the future.
Although, I personally think the window for that is closing and it wouldn't be jaw-dropping anymore, with soulslikes branching out so much. All we really need now is a soulslike MMO and that'll be the kitchen sink, and I think it's rapidly approaching. All I would ask of someone doing that is that you model the PvP after Guild Wars 1 Random Arenas, and you'd have to study that pretty extensively because there's a lot of nuance that made it so good, but it was namely an extreme difficulty to combat, like you'd get from a PvE game set to Insanity difficulty, somehow enveloping the PvP experience.
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Anyway, that's how video games of today almost all suck. And it's because they're not really video games; they're either like a simulation of something, traveling or getting stronger, or just straight-up a movie, with video gameyness slapped onto the side like a sticker, with about as much effort put into the application. The games that are good, as video games and not interactive media, which is what a lot of these things should be distinguished as, ask the user to display skill and they make that display enjoyable and varied. There's a million ways to screw up the execution of that design or to excel at it, but only a few games even set that objective of good combat as an actual goal.
But, if it makes makes money it's fine how it is, fu** foresight and artistic integrity, and we must all keep churning out pig slop to the pigs.
#dark souls#battleborn#overwatch 2#red dead redemption#spiderman#call of duty#remnant from the ashes#league of legends#warcraft 3#dota 2#god of war#elden ring#sekiro#fromsoftware#game design#hidetaka miyazaki#anthem#video games
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i watched the knuckles show and, to be fair, i did not pay that much attention, but one of the things that bothers me the most is that the inventor guy (does he even have a name?) never says or shows to the audience why he needs Knuckles himself.
I mean sure, blah blah power blah blah, but he already has more than enough of his quills that, apparently, he can just collect by the dozen. And we see what he can build with just the quills as a power source, so why try and nab the whole echidna? For a steady supply of quills? I'd understand that, but he already seems to have a steady supply of quills, considering he had a bunch of them more or less just laying around in his workshop.
And the one with the quill powered gun also says that they (presumably Knuckles and Sonic since Tails, as a fox, doesn't have quills) lose quills constantly, so unless someone else starts rounding up their quills, it's not like he's gonna lose that steady supply of quills.
Comptetitors are an option, but even if someone does crop up, I can think of other ways to maintain a monopoly on quills, for example: kill the other guys who are collecting the quills! I mean, the big bad guy doesn't exactly give me the vibes that he's against murder, so...
He implied in the first ep that he had some kinda connection to Knuckles and then he just. never expanded on that. And knuckles met him once and then killed him
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Hey other autistic (and otherwise neurodivergent) peeps, I need to share this tip with you.
If you are (same as me) always searching for new comfort objects or things that make daily life less harsh, try and look in the baby section.
Baby stuff is made to be gentle, to be safe, and (usually) to calm them down. I always skipped it since I haven't been a baby for a very long time and also hope to not have a baby for a very long time, but I have found now multiple items there that helped me with my sensory issues.
I recently found a starprojector there, which gives off the perfect amount of light if I am overstimulated. (And has pretty stars!) I now use it every night as a night light before I go to sleep, and I love it so so much. And I bought the softest plushie, like super super super soft, who has been my comfort in quite a stressful time.
#actually autistic#actuallyautistic#neurodivergent#sensory issues#I am so happy I accidentally walked into the baby section#I only needed the super cheap plushies as christmas gifts lol#and this might be super obvious to some#but I just never considered it as an option#like why shouldnt I use baby products?#those spoiled babies cant keep all the good stuff for themselves!#I also started to use all the tricks my parents used to calm me down when I was a baby#and it is weird how many of those still work#so bird sounds or slow jazz still makes me sleep like a baby lol
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