#I know they're coming back and all is fine

[thisweknow]

I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

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The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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[smellslikechahnspirit]

heyyy chan’s spirit!! I love your writing so much and had a little fic idea I wanted to share! Could you write something where channie’s wife asks him to get intimate for the first time after they find out she’s pregnant? It doesn’t need to be explicit—just soft and emotional, focusing on their love and connection. Totally okay if it’s not your vibe, but I’d love to see your take on it!

Ofcourse! It's a bit short, but I hope you still like it :)

Absolutely 🤍

[Husband Channie and y/n being intimate after finding out their pregnant for the first time (not NSFW)]

Bang Chan x Reader

🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.

[8:05 PM]

You both were on the couch, watching Arcane. It was the weekend. Not any kind of weekend. This weekend was special. It officially has been 2 months since you two found out you were having a little baby. Both of you have wanted this for quite a while and were very excited to finally share the news with everyone. But it was Friday night. You wanted to announce it first thing tomorrow morning. Today was the last day it would just be between you two.

''I still can't believe it...'', you said out of the blue. ''Hm?'', Channie replied who was sleepily laying with his head on you lap. He looked up at your face which was shining bright. ''Our baby. I can't believe it's finally happening.'', you spoke swiftly.

He smiled at you, turning around a bit so his face faced your tummy. ''I know baby, me too. Can't wait to see the members faces tomorrow haha.'', he said. You laughed. ''They're gonna be great uncles.'' ''I'm sure they will honey.'', he replied. ''Kinda liked the little secret we had for a while tho.''. After you said that you pouted. ''Hm me too.'', he said as he kissed your stomach softly. ''Can't believe it's been 2 months already...'', Chan said right after. ''Yea, 7 more to go.''. As you said this you kinda looked..I don't know how to put it...off? You looked disappointed. Or rather annoyed.

''Something wrong baby? You feeling okay?''. ''Nah, I'm fine.'', you said as you pushed him off your lap soflty, so you could get up. Since you're pregnant, he kind of just let you. Normally he would've made you stay and talk it out right then and there, but he knew you were uncomfortable enough as it is.

''Sure?'', he asked you while watching you walk towards your shared bedroom. He only saw you nod and disappear behind the door.

He got concerned, more then confused.

He knew your emotions were all over the place, but seeing you raise a wall was never a good sign. After a good 5 minutes he decided to check up on you.

He walked into the bedroom. The door was still slightly opened. ''Knock knock...can I come in darling?''. ''Ofcourse.'', you said smiling soflty. He walked in slowly, holding a cup of your favoured tea. ''Got ya this.''. He put it down next to you. He kept looking at your face, trying to decipher what was the matter.

''Y/n, please tell me..what's going on. Are you feeling sick? Worried? Don't deal with this by yourself baby, please.'', he said as he rubbed your arm soflty. ''It's just...''. He looked you in the eyes, making you look back at him. ''It's what?'', he said very quiet. ''I guess I'm just a bit worried.'' ''Hmhm, worried bout what sweetie?''.

He now sat down next to you, giving you a small kiss. Patiently waiting for you to tell him what was bothering you. ''Do you still love me? Or just because I'm pregnant now, you feel like you have to?''. He was shook by your words. Completely unaware that you felt this way. ''Y/n? Are you...okay? How...what??? Why would you ask me that. I love you to death. Does it look like I don't love you anymore?''. He was really confused. ''No, I mean...I don't know...''. ''Baby...?'', he asked confused. ''Well...since you found out I was pregnant...we haven't...had sex. Like not even once. Are you not willing to have sex with me, for the next 7 months either?''.

He now understood your thought, but this was never his intention. ''Babe...first of all, why didn't you tell me this sooner? And second...it's not that I don't wanna have sex with you. I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.''.

''Uncomfortable?'', you looked up with big eyes. ''Well, I don't know...since that day we found out...you kind of have been all about the safety of the baby, and health for your body and doing yoga and etc. Just everything. I felt like, me bothering you with my needs, was something that would stress you out. I just didn't want to put pressure on you, into thinking you had to, since your body is now a temple to keep safe.''.

''What does sex have to do with that?''. He also didn't think this through too much. These last 8 weeks have been stressful for the both of you. ''I don't know what else to say... I never meant for it to seem like I didn't want to, I wanted to...everyday actually.''.

Your eyes lit up. ''Really? You don't think it's weird now?'' ''Weird? No. Do I feel like we have to be carefull and mindfull about this? Yes. I don't wanna hurt you in any way baby.'', he said wisely.

Instead of worry, all you felt now was happiness, being in a position that a man like this was the man who you were having a baby with. ''You're actually amazing, you know that babe?''. He smiled, then giving you a deep kiss. And the kiss kept going. And going. When after a while he was laying on top of you.

''Let me take care of you tonight. I will be gentle in every way. You deserve a treat, after this long.''.

He knew how these 8 weeks have been on your body, let alone how difficult the other 7 months are gonna be on you.

''You sure you wanna do this?'', you asked. ''Absolutely.''.

...Masterlist...

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© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[sturnslutz]

introducing... teenagedirtbag!matt and innocent!reader

use of y/n a couple times.

matt had always been one to ignore girls. not that he didn’t like them, but because he truly just didn’t want them. his “bad boy” persona really lures girls in, and he’s learned that over the years.

his bad rep started off when he was only a young boy, not paying attention in class, and snapping back at teachers which caused multiple suspensions, detentions, and even one expulsion.

him getting expelled from full circle high school in somerville really turned his family’s life around. his brothers, chris and nick, were the complete opposite of him, but because he got switched, they had to too.

you weren't a very social person, but you weren't super shy. you could go and ask someone a question if you were lost, but you couldn't tell someone what they did wrong, even if it hurts you.

that's what some people adored about you, that you're so innocent. so pure. that's what people base you off of, and build on it.

"oh yeah, angel? she's so nice!" the amount of times you have heard that about you. people even named you angel, which you weren't mad about, but no one really called you by your actual name anymore.

somerville high was a dreading place for you. toxic jocks, wannabe pick me girls who bully the quiet kids when no doubt, they're 10x smarter. who even cares about grades anymore? high school social pyramids are based on how much you sleep with people and if you take drugs, which automatically puts you at a "higher level."

unfortunately, you were right in the middle. you smoked a couple times, but it wasn't a big thing. and obviously, you haven't hooked up with anyone, not even holding hands.

it was like sexual experiences were resistant to you no matter how much you craved it. you were literally the face of the quote, "perverted bitch with an angelic face."

others have told you that you had a sort of, "angelic presence" about you. like you were this breath of fresh air everyone desperately craved for, and it came naturally to you.

you were in math class, sitting in the back of the class with your tight clothes that hugged your curves perfectly, with an airpod in. you still paid attention to whatever the teacher was talking about, but she was currently at her desk allowing you guys to have a little break, or so she calls it. a certain announcement makes you take your headphone out.

"next class we're having a new student come into our class by the name of matthew sturniolo. i expect you all to treat him with kindness and respect."

matthew sturniolo? that sounded super familiar.

you looked down at your phone, opening up instagram and searching through your followers.

@matthew.sturniolo

he followed you already. and you followed him back.

he had liked a couple of your posts and stories, but you guys have never talked. he was so fine, and he had this dark vibe about him that had you soaked.

you would never admit it, but your thighs clenched a couple times when looking at his pics. you can't be thinking like this. you turn off your phone, putting your airpod in, blasting your music, rubbing your eyes to get those thoughts out of head.

you didn't even know what "thoughts" they actually were. you've never watched porn or anything, or even actually touched yourself properly. you just knew that you had a growing ache in between your legs.

the next day came faster than you had thought. upon remembering that matt would be arriving, you dressed in one of your best outfits, that was simple but showed everything that needed to be shown, perfectly.

you had sat in your seat, feet tapping against the ground repeatedly as you fiddled your thumbs in your lap. you turned around everytime someone walked in, and finally he walked in.

he walked so calmly and you both made eye contact immediately to which you turned around and acted cool. or so you thought.

you hadn't seen, but matt smirked softly as he took a seat a couple rows up next to some guy named jack who you've talked to a couple times. they immediately spark up a conversation, probably having met earlier and already became friends.

class had started, and your teacher kept talking. you had forgot a vital rule in her class, assigned seats. "hello matthew, welcome to the class. i hope everyone treats you with kindness and you make your time here productive. unfortunately, we do have assigned seats, and i have you seated next to, y/n. she's in the back over there."

she points to you and you don't necessarily notice as you're looking down at your phone. "y/n." you look up to the sound of your name being called a bit sternly, and see your teacher and a couple pairs of eyes looking at you, and a certain matt who was grabbing his bag.

"yes?" "matthew is coming to sit next to you." your eyes widen a bit as you make eye contact with him again as he walks towards you, smirking at you softly. you nod to the teacher and pull your eyes away from matt, who's now sitting next to you.

"sup." he slumps down next to you, your knees hitting each other. "hi." you respond, no more than a whisper. he nods and goes on his phone, the both of your guys' knees still rested on each other.

"we follow each other on insta right?" he says as he pulls your profile up, a sudden wave of embarrassment flowing through you as he clicks through your highlight of yourself, lingering a bit too long on the few bikini pics or pajama pics.

"mhm." you hum. he chuckles softly, nodding again. "nice." he puts his phone away, and his eyes rake over your body. you pay no attention to it as you tap on your computer a couple times to start working on the assignment.

"wanna hangout later?" you almost thought you were dreaming. "w-what?" you look over at him, your eyes meeting. "hangout. later. i'll pick you up and we can jus' go to the park or somethin'. whatever you wanna do. not a date though. jus' wan' a pretty girl to show me her favorite spots."

he had a certain tone to his last words, "favorite spots" which gave you a hint of something else besides what he was saying, a hidden intent in his words. this caused a shiver through you before you nod. "um, yeah sure. here." you hand him your phone for him to put his number in, and he does, quickly texting himself before taking his phone out, texting you back and saving your contact.

"'ight. i'll pick you up later, yeah?" "yeah, sure."

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 comment to be added or removed.

[ethereallyjade]

Pick a Card: How Will Next Semester Go?

Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If you're interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist

1 - 4

Images are not mine

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ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟙

It's gonna be real smooth. You're getting it all put together. I'm sensing that many of you may be graduating this semester. Older sibling/senior energy. There's a sense of everything finally coming together or something wrapping up nicely. Something is finished. I'm hearing 'Good riddance!' Signed, sealed, and delivered!

Your grades are going to be gorgeous. There's some kind of celebration, lots of smiling. You're going to feel very happy and abundant this upcoming semester. You'll have all your ducks in a row and feel very ready for whatever is next for you.

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟚

I'm getting a kinda ridged energy here, but you guys will make it through. You might have a really hard class this semester, but I'm seeing that the thing that's standing in your way the most is yourself. Do not be afraid to ask for help: talk to your teachers, find tutors, watch youtube videos, etc. Put the time in. But most of all, don't allow negative thinking to get in your way. Don't tell yourself that you're gonna fail or that you can't do it, especially before the class even starts. That kind of self talk feels like nothing in the moment, but if you keep doing it it will affect you in the long run and not only adds unnecessary stress on you but can lead to other disorders. So, like, nip in before it gets out of hand.

Give yourself the chance, do your best. You might not get the grade you want, but you will pass this class or whatever it may be. Things might start rough or confusing, but I'm seeing that you'll start catching on towards the end. So, just put in that extra work when you can and you'll be fine.

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟛

Similar to the last group, things might be a struggle at first, but you will catch on fast. Are some of you doing something new? A freshman? I keep seeing a young person going into college for the first time. Like, they didn't take things seriously, they were partying, going out to eat too much, hanging with friends, not doing homework, but then something happens and they're like 'Oh sh*t, this is real.' Can you relate to this? I'm seeing that you're gonna get hit with that wave of 'Oh, I actually have to lock in this time around.' There will be no avoidance or immature behavior this semester. The cards are saying to start getting your sh*t together lmao.

Not to wish bad fortune on any of you, but I'm really getting the sense of like... you will fail if you don't put in the effort. Like, go talk with your advisors, talk to your teachers, get a calendar. Everything you need to succeed is right in front of you, but no one can help you if you never ask. Watch your spending habits, don't cheat, do your homework, surround yourself with supportive good people, organize you work and time. This semester is really what you make it.

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟜

I'm seeing giddy, more energetic, friends, and fun. This is a more laid back semester. You've been working hard, been very mature in your schooling so far, and I'm seeing that you'll just be reaping the rewards from your past efforts. Maybe you'll be working on a passion project or doing an internship. Something that doesn't feel like real work, because you'll be so into it. You'll be feeling stable and calm this semester, feeling accomplished and just better.

You might be getting more popular. I keep seeing that kind of student that walks into any room or class and just knows somebody. If that's not you, you might just be a familiar face to a lot of people because they've seen you all over campus or at events. Either way, others are starting to recognize you for something. If you don't have good and supportive friends already, you might find them this semester.

[mssorceressupreme]

Working Late Pt. 2 | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Your boss does not take lightly to people flirting with his favourite employee, and wants you to know you're his and his only.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, boss/employee, possessive!fred, teasing, jealousy, office sex, fingering, dom!fred, sub!reader, p in v, penetration, coming, overstimulation, praising ———

It was another energetic day at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and you were in high spirits. The shop was packed, the air buzzing with chatter and laughter as customers marvelled at the shelves bursting with magical novelties.

You’d felt like dressing up today, slipping on a short but tasteful black dress that cinched at your waist and flowed just above your knees. It was modest but cute, perfectly suited for the carefree atmosphere of the shop.

Fred had already complimented you earlier in his usual teasing manner, a smirk tugging at his lips as he’d said, “Trying to steal all my customers with that dress, are you?” You’d rolled your eyes playfully punching him, but your heart had fluttered all the same.

Today was no different than any other day, however that changed when the afternoon took a turn, a familiar voice catching your attention.

“Is that… Y/N?”

You turned to find none other than Oliver Wood standing before you, looking as dashing as ever in a red fitted jacket and his signature confident grin.

“Oliver!” you exclaimed, genuinely pleased to see him. “It’s been ages!”

“It has,” he said, his eyes sweeping over you with unmistakable appreciation. “You’ve… changed. Hogwarts didn’t do you justice.”

A faint blush crept up your neck, and you laughed softly. “Well, I guess we all grow up, don’t we?”

As you chatted, his flirtation became more apparent. He leaned closer when he spoke, his compliments growing bolder. “I always knew you were lovely, but Merlin, you’ve really turned heads now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Fred watching. He was helping another customer, but his gaze kept shifting back to your interaction with Oliver.

His playful demeanour had vanished, his expression unreadable. He didn’t interrupt, but his gaze lingered, sharp and brooding.

When Oliver finally left with his purchases, you turned to Fred, hoping for a witty remark or a teasing jab, but he was already busying himself with a display. He hadn’t said a word, not even a glance in your direction.

The rest of the day was tense. Fred barely acknowledged you, answering your questions with curt nods or single-word replies. It was as if he’d built an invisible wall between you, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

"Hey Freddie, a customer wanted out inquire about a stock refill. When are the next batch of Puking Pastilles arriving? They're currently all sold out and-" You approached him while the customer you were serving continued browsing, awaiting your answer.

"Next week." Fred said, a little too bluntly before walking away, avoiding your gaze as he did so.

You nodded slowly, approaching the customer with a forced smile though you were a bit hurt by Fred's bluntness, "The next batch will arrive next week, Monday I believe, best come early before they sell out again miss."

"Sounds perfect love, I'll be here first thing next week then!" She chimed before leaving with her two kids.

During a lull in the crowd, you approached George who was stationed behind the cash register. The interaction with Fred still lingered in the back of your mind. “Is Fred… okay?” you asked hesitantly.

George looked up from the register, his usual grin in place. "Fred? Seems fine to me, why'd ya ask?"

"He's just...it's like he's avoiding me. Have I done something wrong?" You tilt your head, looking at the ground trying to recall any mistakes you might have made.

“Nah you're doing alright. He’s probably just being a git, as usual. Don’t let it bother you eh?"

But it did bother you.

Fred’s cold shoulder gnawed at you, and the more he ignored you, the more determined you became to get a reaction.

An opportunity presented itself when you passed by him in one of the narrower aisles.

As you squeezed past, you brushed against him deliberately, letting your skirt graze his thigh and pressing just enough to make it unmistakable. Smirking, you swayed harder against one particular spot in his trousers.

Fred inhaled sharply, his hands reflexively gripping your waist for a brief moment before you stepped away.

You didn’t look back, but you felt the heat of his gaze as you continued to the other side of the shop, humming as you strolled away.

As you returned to the register to finish a sale later, you noticed a folded piece of parchment resting on the counter. Your name was scrawled on it in Fred’s familiar handwriting. You unfolded it, your heartbeat rapidly increasing upon reading the words:

“My office. Now. – F”

The knot in your stomach tightened as you made your way upstairs. Merlin, what did he want now?

You pushed open the door to find Fred sitting behind his desk, a glass of whisky in his hand. His eyes were dark, his usual humour replaced by something colder, more commanding, almost scary but not quite.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You stepped closer after shutting the door, your pulse racing. Standing in front of his desk now, you waited, unsure of what to expect.

“Sit on my lap,” he ordered, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you, following your every move.

You hesitated for a split second before obeying, perching lightly on his lap. His hands came to rest on your thighs, firm but not rough, as if he was testing the boundaries.

“Who said you could flirt with customers?” he asked, his tone laced with jealousy.

“I wasn’t flirting,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “I was just being polite. Accommodating him.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, and he let out a low hum of disapproval. “Accommodating? Is that what you call it?”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt, brushing lightly against your skin. “You’ve got some nerve, you know,” he murmured. “Walking around in this dress, brushing past me like that…”

Your breath hitched, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t mean to—” A white lie.

He cut you off with a soft chuckle, though it lacked humour. “Didn’t mean to, hmm? Then what was that little stunt earlier? Testing me, were you?”

You didn’t know how to respond, his intensity leaving you flustered and unsure.

Slowly but sensually, Fred began caressing your inner thigh, stroking softly and inching his way up to your clit, but not quite touching it. Though only a simple gesture, you felt a rush to your core, finding yourself throbbing and wanting more of his touch.

"You shouldn't have started something you can't finish love." He cooed into your ear.

You bit your lip, "I can finish it.." confident in your head, but a whisper came out, you felt weak under his touch like this.

"Oh really?" Fred raised a brow, "and how do you plan on doing that?" He was amused by your counter, a smug smirk appearing on that devilishly handsome face of his.

You sat there silently, avoiding eye contact him, unsure of how to respond. To be honest, you were inexperienced, you hadn't been this close to a man, in well, forever.

He chuckled lowly, one hand creeping up your skirt again, his fingertips tracing the hem of your panties causing you to involuntarily move forward.

Your body tenses, you held your breath as he continued. His fingers find your clit, circling it through the fabric of your now soaking panties. You let out a whimper in response to his touch.

Fred then finds the sweet sensitive spot on your neck, attaching his lips and sucking. His free hand reaches up and massages your tits sensually while the other hand continues with your clit.

"Let me show you love, let me take care of you..." He nips at your neck a few times before continuing, "By the time I'm done, the whole store will know my name and that you're mine."

You let out a soft moan as Fred uses two fingers to slide your panties down, the cold air hitting the exposed skin under your skirt.

His pants were now wet, both from you, and his precum. You felt a bit embarrassed that you soaked his pants but he was alright with it, in fact, he loved it.

"I don't want to see anymore flirting in my store, especially not with you." Fred's voice was deep, hoarse and almost possessive.

He presses two fingers inside of you, stretching you before flexing his fingers. You whined in response to his long slender fingers, panting heavily as he begins to work them faster inside of you, stretching you more.

Fred works on your cunt and you feel yourself growing hotter, more desperate for him. You arch your back, one arm is wrapped around his nape and the other gripping the table for support.

You fidget slightly, occasionally twitching due to the pleasure, "Fred...I'm getting close..." You whine.

The tight feeling in your core continues to build up, begging for a release soon. You get louder and louder as Fred continues fingering you, slightly faster now. "Fred!" You moan, you're getting extremely close.

Your back arches again, toes curling, and your left fingers practically are digging into his desk.

"Fred...I'm gonna....I'm gonna cu-" Your orgasm burns, erupting in your cunt and your mind explodes with ecstasy, sending a wave of pleasure over you but Fred doesn't stop, he continues.

"Fred please-" You whine, feeling overstimulated, your breathless and feeling another orgasm coming up.

"Merlin, you're so perfect love." He praises, watching you at his mercy, breathless on his lap.

Hearing him praise you like that, made another orgasm come round the corner. He really knew how to push your buttons, in the all the right ways possible.

"I can't take it! I'm getting close again...Fred! Please-" You whimper, as he picks up the pace again.

"Go on, come for me love. I want to hear your pretty moans, love it when my name slips from that pretty mouth of yours." He praised again, and you let loose.

Your walls throbbed, pulsing incredible fast, another pleasurable wave rushed over your body. "Oh God! Fred!" You moaned, before your head fall against his shoulder weakly.

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, before carrying you bridal style, getting up from his seat and placing you on his desk.

You sat up straight, facing him, your knees on both sides of his hips and he stood between them.

"You did amazing love." Fred praises, his hands sliding on your thighs, parting them and keeping your legs open for what's to come. His shirt was half unbuttoned, pants soaking, and fluffy hair slightly tousled.

"Please Fred...I want you inside me." You plead, glancing up at him with doe eyes.

He groaned softly upon seeing you in front of him, half naked on the table, and he was about to fuck you. He wanted you so bad, he needed you.

"Alright darling." He hums, unbuttoning his belt, letting his cock spring free.

Your eyes grew wide, you'd always assume he was big, but Merlin, he was packing. You felt yourself grow excited upon seeing him, biting your lip unconsciously.

He wraps a hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance before pressing into you. The tip of his swollen head easily slides against your wetness, sliding with ease into your eager body.

At the intrusion, you tighten, "Merlin, Fred!" You moan, whimpering as he slides out then presses his hips against yours as he slips his cock all the way inside you, deeper than before.

"Mhm you feel so good around me love, so tight for me." He hums, moving faster, leaning forward to give you a kiss. You kiss him passionately but sweetly, sliding your tongue against his bottom lip while he keeps the same pace thrusting into you.

Your arms rest on the table for support, you tilt your head back whimpering at the pleasure of your hips colliding and feeling Fred inside you.

He keeps his hands planted on your hips, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're perfect you know that." Fred moans.

"I'm yours Fred..." You wince, "all yours..."

"And I'm yours, no one is going to change that." Fred responds, leaning in for another kiss. "Shit- I'm getting close..." He thrusts harder and faster, his climax quickly building up.

"Gonna release on your stomach love, that all good?" He breathlessly asks, to which you nod as a reply, unable to speak as you feel yourself reaching your climax too.

You don't last any longer, your body tensing as an orgasm erupts through you. You try to speak but only a whine escapes, throwing your head back, you lay on the desk, bare, exposed and breathing heavily.

Fred's hips rock harshly a few more times before slipping out, releasing on your tummy, every last drop coming onto your tummy. "Merlin..." He groans, throwing his head back, his broad shoulders rising and falling.

He removes his hands from your waist, proceeding to help clean you up and adjusting your dress properly. Picking you up, he carries you bridal style and lays you on the long leather couch in his office.

"You can take the rest of the day off if you want love." He leans down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I don't mind working..." You remark, "get to flirt with more people..." Your tone was teasing, smirking to get a reaction out of him.

"Flirt with them and I'll take you right then and there in front of them." He retorted, playfully.

You stand up, walking towards Fred, who was getting changed into something...cleaner and more decent, "So territorial." you spoke, helping him with his tie.

Fred tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Can't have them thinking they have a chance.”

“Please I might as well wear a shirt that says 'Taken by Fred Weasley'...” you joked.

"Not a bad idea..." He hummed, looking down at you while you finished off with his tie.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile, "You know I only have eyes for you Fred Weasley, no one comes close."

“That's my girl,” he said, his tone softer now but still edged with authority. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as possessive as it was tender, leaving you breathless. "My perfect girl."

When he finally pulled back, his eyes held a glint of satisfaction. “Now, get back to work,” he said, a teasing smirk returning to his lips. “There’s more where that came from.”

As you reached the door, you glanced back to find him watching you, his gaze warm now but still with a flicker of desire.

"I'll join you downstairs shortly." He winked, and you felt your cheeks heat again as you shut the door behind you, your heart raced as you returned to the shop floor, acting as though nothing had happened upstairs.

___

"Bloody hell, where were you two?!" George, finishing a sale, waved a customer goodbye before turning to you and Fred.

"We had some business to take care of." Fred answered for you guys, placing his hand on your lower back.

George scoffed, a knowing look flashed in his eyes, darting back and forth between you, "Yeah alright sure, business."

"Well I'm off on a date with Angelina, can you two handle the shop for the few hours?" George continued.

"What do you take me for? A slacker?" Fred replied, "Pft of course we can handle it, now go have fun." He ushered his twin away, and George, confused, grabbed his belongings and waved us goodbye, turning back occasionally to make sure the store didn't crash down under Fred's control.

"Round 2?" Fred whispered, a teasing undertone once George was out of sight.

You playfully hit him, chuckling, "We have a shop to run Weasley!"

He laughed softly, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before getting back to work.

[ihfmseatsoch]

I NEED DAD CURLY I KNOW U ALR DID THJS BUT FUCK. I’m a slut for curly🥹🩷 fem reader pls

haii sorry this took a hot minute.. im terribly sick -_- but i pushed through for dad curly #priorities. i should mention that the reader is OF LEGAL AGE ! even though they're still in school. they're supposed to be 18 or college age. Okay tyanks 👍🏻

genre: smut

word count: 3.3k

warnings/content: incest, age gap jealous curly, reader is daughterwife maxxing HARD, loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, rough sex, creampie, daddy kink? idk hes your literal daddy so. shrugs

–

Curly wasn't a jealous man.

He was always secure and confident in his relationships, never wanting to come off as an overbearing boyfriend who spit in the direction of any man that looked his partners way. He didn't see his past lovers male friends as competition, in fact, he was more than welcoming towards them.

Which is why he can't identify the feeling twisting in the pit of his gut, one that just felt plain unpleasant, when he saw you hug a boy from your class as you were leaving your schools parking lot. Curly had come to pick you up as he usually does, and he's commonly greeted with a kiss on his cheek or a warm embrace from you immediately.

Not this.

Curly has always been fine with his daughter being friends with boys. He trusted you enough not to do anything stupid, not to make the wrong decisions. You'd never even had a boyfriend before, so it wasn't like the men in your life were always in the back of his mind. So why? Why did he feel so shitty? Protective, even?

What on earth was different about this specific instance that made him feel like he wanted to pull you away and drag you straight to the car?

You finally make your way to the car, opening the passenger side door, plopping yourself in the seat beside him. You lean over to give him one of your usual kisses, right on his scruffy cheek. "Hi, daddy!" You beam, an ear to ear smile plastered on your sweet face.

Your affection does nothing to alleviate the ugly feeling of possessiveness inside of him. The fact that you look oddly chipper right now makes him suspicious. Was it the unnamed kid you were holding so close just moments ago that's making you so cheerful?

Still, he feigns casualness, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as a sign of his own love for you. Curly enjoys the way you still give him the title "daddy", even at your age. He's repressed his own realization that he likes it a little too much. "Hey, sweetheart." His mouth feels strangely dry as he forces a smile. With hesitance and an intense battle with his own common sense, in which his common sense lost, he continues, "So... was that a friend of yours?"

You blink in confusion briefly, before realizing who he's talking about. "Oh, yeah! For about a week, that is. He just moved to town, so I've been showing him around and stuff. He's super nice." Your giggle after you mention how "nice" he is makes him feel even more on edge. He recognizes a crush when he sees one. This isn't good. Not at all. His heart plummets into his stomach, sizzling in its acid.

"Ah. Right." He nods curtly, leaving the conversation at that, as he lost his previous strength to pretend he doesn't feel awful right now. His foot presses down in the gas pedal a little too hard. The car ride is unusually silent. Typically, he'd be asking all about your day right now, what tests you have coming up, how your friends are doing, and you'd talk his ear off about it in return. There's none of that today, besides the hum of the cars engine and the sound of him tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, feeling fidgety.

Curly feels terribly guilty, noticing your confusion at his behavior. He can't blame you, this is the most awkward you two have been with each other. He wants to say something, apologize for his attitude, but his throat swells up whenever he tries to speak. Is this jealousy? The soul crushing feeling he's heard so much about?

But why would he be jealous of his own daughter's relationships? He should be supportive. He should be a good father, push away these maddening negative feelings and talk to you. Physically, he can't find it in him to do that. Everything about this is irrational, he knows it.

You said you'd only known that boy for a week, so why does he feel... afraid? Scared that he'll take his precious girl away from him? Curly can't stomach the idea of you giving your love to some random kid instead of him. The thought that one day you'll give someone else a fraction of the adoration you give him is unbearable. His baby girl wouldn't need her daddy anymore.

Only when you're both halfway to your home is when you decide to speak up, "You okay, Dad? You're acting weird."

Your words ring in his ears deafeningly. How can he even begin to explain himself? He's a shameful excuse of a father. Clearing his dry throat, he utters, "I'm fine, hon. Guess I'm just tired. Pony Express has been kickin' me in the ass more than usual." Curly manages to come up with a lie on the spot. He feels even worse for lying to you.

The loving concern etched in your face at his fake excuse makes his heart hurt. Now he's made you feel bad for him. God, what is wrong with him today? He must really be losing it. This midlife crisis shit is no joke.

"You should take more breaks, daddy. I don't like you being a workaholic all the time." Your hand moves to tenderly rub his tense shoulder, his skin tingling with goosebumps from the contact.

Swallowing, he responds, "I know, I know," with a sigh, he runs a hand through his wavy blonde curls, some of the strands turning grey in his old age, which he tries to ignore when he looks in the mirror. "Overworking myself is just part of the job, babydoll." Curly holds back a frustrated eye roll at Pony Express's mistreatment. Maybe he was more stressed than he thought. Maybe that's why he's behaving like this today. Nothing more. Right?

"I still don't like it," You say with a shake of your head, aware of how corrupt the company your father works for really is. "I'll tie you to the couch if I have to, if it gets you to relax."

Curly knows you're joking, but for some reason, the faux threat sounds suggestive to him. His thoughts quickly become inappropriate. He can't help but think about how he would feel... completely at your mercy, restrained, utterly submissive. "Mm, that'll be the day." He replies, trying to inject his usual humor in his sentence, shooting you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, showing off his subtle tooth gap, one of his teeth a little crooked in a cute, boyish way.

After he pulls into your driveway and you two hop out, you walk as close as you can to him, holding onto his arm, holding back from feeling up his muscles. That'd just throw you into a whirlwind of inner conflict.

"I'm serious, though." You continue onto your previous conversation. "You'd better not do anything but relax tonight, or you're gonna hear it from me." It's amusing how much you sound like you're his wife, making demands like that. It feels... oddly nice to him, to imagine you playing that roll. You already do, in a way, with how you consistently fuss over and take care of him. "Yes ma'am," he lets out a short chuckle, his smile genuine this time, "I'll be good. Promise."

And he doesn't break his promise, mainly because you absolutely don't let him. He thought of sneaking off, making a few important phone calls, but you keep an intimidating eagles eye on him. It's endearing how much you care. Any lingering traces of his earlier jealousy are nearly gone, that stupid kid long forgotten. He knows that he's the most important man in your life. He always will be. It was silly to think you'd ever leave him. He's your daddy, you'd always be his.

You cook him dinner as he leans back in the couch, the stress melting from his weary bones, the weight of his responsibilities nonexistent tonight. This is bliss, Curly thinks. His sweet little girl doting on him, making his favorite meal while he doesn't have to lift a finger for once. Maybe this is what he truly wants out of life. Domesticity. Not having to worry about a thing except being pampered.

You make two plates of food, one for you, and one for your beloved father. You curl up on the couch beside him, resting your head on his broad shoulder as you eat dinner together. The atmosphere is more peaceful than Curly's felt in a long, long time. His heart swells with love and gratitude for you, for the lengths you go to just to make him happy.

What did he do to deserve a daughter so perfect? So beautiful, sweet, and kind? He could go on and on with endless praise for you. Curly wraps one arm around your shoulder, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "Thank you, sweetheart," he mumbles into your hair, "You're too good to me."

"Nothing's too good for you, daddy." You give him a kiss right below his ear in return. "I love you. Just wanna take care of you."

The simple act of endearment has his face heating up, the butterflies in his chest fluttering wildly. Pull yourself together, Grant, he tells himself firmly. He's just pent up. Hasn't been with a woman in... he doesn't know how long. And since he doesn't do hookups, preferring something more meaningful, he's been stuck with his own, lonely hand. Curly has to clear his throat to find his voice, "I– love you too, honey."

You two are still cuddled up on the couch, long after you finish eating. Curly's mindlessly watching a cooking show, in which a woman only seasons her chicken with salt and pepper. Thankfully, your body pressed to his is distracting him enough that he doesn't grimace imagining the plain flavor.

He knows he's disgusting, pathetic, in fact, for being so flustered right now. As he slowly rubs circles on your back, he can't help but think how good your form feels in his hands, soft and warm. It's like he's a hormone-ridden teenage boy, except in reality, he's your dad, and you're his own flesh and blood.

Against his better judgement, Curly's hand trails down to your hip, giving it a light squeeze, as if to test the waters on how far he could go. You don't react negatively, only cuddling closer to him. What the hell is he doing? He mentally screams at himself to stop. Stop thinking about how much smaller you look against his large frame, how easy it would be to pick you up, or push you down, your pretty eyes wide and staring up at him as he towers over you, hunched over your body–

He's hard. And, officially, a sick fuck.

Curly desperately hopes you don't notice the tent in his pants, he prays to whatever's out there that you don't look down, please, don't notice how perverted he is. You'd never forgive him, he's sure. You'd never look at him the same. He crosses his legs, a pathetic attempt to hide his rigid cock.

It comes to a point where the discomfort in his groin and the lust burning his insides becomes too much it bear. Taking in a shallow breath, he finally decides on doing the unthinkable. "Hey... Sweetheart?" Curly sounds uncertain in himself, his confidence teetering on a thin tightrope. You turn your head to him, ever so trusting.

"Yeah?" You say, wondering why his body is so taut all of a sudden, and why his index and thumb is fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He struggles to look you in the eye as he continues, "Can... Can I ask you for one more thing?" His heart thumps in his throat.

You nod, always willing to satisfy his every whim. He's given you the best life he possibly could, you owe him everything in return, don't you? "Of course," You smile, "Anything."

That innocent look in your eyes only makes him feel guiltier. Curly stays quiet for a few seconds, just contemplating if he's really about to do this, if he's really willing to possibly ruin your relationship forever. His hand moves up to cup your cheek. God, it's practically bigger than your face, he notices. Baby blue eyes get lost in the sight of your lips, making him swallow from sheer temptation as he inches closer to you.

It takes your brain a moment to process what's happening, and when it does, strangely enough, you don't pull away. If this is what he needs, why would you deny him? He's your dad, the person you trust the most in the world. He wouldn't do anything that could hurt you. He bites back whatever self-control he has left, pressing his lips to yours, soft and experimental. The biggest spark he's ever felt ignites in his chest, your lips feel unlike any other woman's he's ever kissed. You're perfect.

You can't say you haven't thought about this. You've always found your dad handsome, and charming; more than the average daughter would. You've never kissed a boy before, and you're more than ecstatic that Curly is your first. You link your arms around his neck to pull him in closer, deepening the kiss, desire building up in your abdomen embarrassingly quick.

His hand gravitate towards your waist on instinct, the kiss which was originally sweet and tender turning into a full-on make out session. You let out a quiet whimper at the intensity of it all, his cock twitching in his pants at the cute sound. Fuck, he's never wanted anyone like this before, so ravenously. Curly makes himself pull away for air, too far gone to feel any semblance of guilt anymore, especially when you're looking at him so eagerly. You want this too. There's nothing to feel bad about.

"Is this okay, honey?" He breathes, chest heaving as he pants. "You alright with this?"

You nod silently, unable to find any words to say in your aroused state, your body overwhelmingly hot all of a sudden. That's all the consent he needs from you in order to lay you on your back, peeling off every article of your clothing with delicate care, marvelling at your bare figure under him.

You feel incredibly shy having him see you like this, covering your breasts with your hands, pressing your thighs together. "No, no. Don't do that, baby." he cooes, gently coaxing you to reveal yourself to him again, much stronger hands spreading your legs apart so he can get a good look at your cunt, glistening with slick. Knowing that he was the one who made you this wet so easily elicits a low groan from him.

"Look at you," he murmurs, sighing shakily at the very sight of you, "Dripping wet, just for your daddy." You whine as he runs his thumb along your slit, stopping at your puffy clit so he can rub the sensitive nerve in slow circles, his experienced hands making you gasp in surprise. A rough palm reaches up to gingerly fondle one of your tits, your father peering intently down at you from above.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he sighs, like he's in awe, "You know that? Such a pretty girl. Always have been." He pulls his sweats down just enough for his dick to spring free, and he hisses at the sudden rush of cool air against his tepid shaft, tip flushed red. Your eyes widen at its size. Massive, is once way to describe it. A thick vein runs down his length, pulsing with warm blood. Curly notices the intimidated expression on your face, and he presses a soothing kiss to your forehead. "I'll go slow. Don't wanna hurt you. S' gonna be okay, babygirl."

His tone is as consolatory as ever, and you can't help but believe him. Why shouldn't you?

It stings when he prods the head into your untouched, virgin hole, the ache worsening as he pushes in further. "D– Dad–" you whimper, eyes brimming with tears of pain, "It's not gonna fit, it hurts–" Curly shushes you, stroking your hair back to calm you down. "I know, I know, baby. It'll go away, I promise." His breathing stutters, a stifled moan erupting from his chest, your walls gripping him tighter than any pussy he's ever felt in his life.

When he's fully inside you, he tries his hardest to restrain himself and be gentle, lightly panting, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts cautiously, paying close attention to every nosie you make so he knows you're feeling good. "Takin' me so well, honey," he grunts, "Y' feel that? You're taking daddy so deep." He presses his hand to your stomach, where you can feel his cock prodding against your insides.

Your little whines and moans at every thrust inside you don't help his quickly diminishing willpower to keep your first time nice and gentle. He wants to be careful with his baby girl, he truly does, but you sound so fucking cute when he goes just a little harder, making you squeak in surprise.

You really can't blame him for ending up with your legs hanging limp on his shoulders, pushing them back so his cock can hit all the right angles, making your pussy clench and squeeze around him so tight, it only encourages him to fuck you as rough as you can take it. Your slick runs all the way down to your ass, his his balls making a wet slapping sound every time he rams into it.

"Dad– Daddy–" is all you can mewl, breathless, your brain short-circuiting from pleasure, practically going dumb from his cock. "Yeah?" Curly grins, relishing in the effect he has on you, "Daddy's making you feel so good, isn't he?" All you can do is nod stupidly at his question, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You abdomen pulsates with warmth, an unfamiliar tingling washing over your body.

"I f– feel weird." You tell him with a trembling whimper. "You're alright, just means you're close." Curly reassures you, simply. "Daddy wants to see you cum for him, honey. Don't hold back."

It doesn't take long for the build up tension inside of you to burst, your back arching as complete euphoria coarses through every inch of your body, a gutteral moan escaping your lips. "There we go, that's my girl," Curly croons, "Cum all over daddy's cock. You look so gorgeous right now, sweetheart."

Due to his age, he takes a little longer to get close to his own orgasm, continuing to fuck you through your overwhelming sensitivity. "M' almost there," he rasps, his head moving down to rest in the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your flushed skin, "Nngh– gonna fill you up, baby– you want that? Want dad's cum inside of you?"

Your hazy state of mind makes it difficult to consider the risks, so you nod, agreeing to whatever he says.

"God, fuck– I love you, I love you, I love you–" he babbles, and with a throaty groan through clenched teeth, he spills his release inside of you, the warm and gooey substance filling your hole to the brim. Curly's legs give out, causing him to collapse on top of you, his broad chest pressed to yours, his body hair tickling your skin lightly.

When he finally catches his breath, he pulls out, and grabs a warm cloth to wipe away the cum that seeps from your hole. "You alright? Didn't hurt you or anything, yeah?" He asks, genuinely concerned, and a little guilty for not being able to hold himself back. "I'm fine..." You mumble, exhausted, "Just a little sore."

"M' sorry, sweet pea." Curly gives you a kiss on the cheek, as if it'll make everything all better. To be honest, it does help a little. So does his meticulous aftercare, and his cuddles.

You don't really want to think about the future consequences of your father cumming inside of you right now.

–

[ghouljams]

Ok, just wanna say that I love your Hephaetus!Nikto.

Just a few things I’d like to say about Aphrodite. Love the way you have them written, I am in no way trying to make you change your interpretation of them.

She is one of the oldest gods along side Poseidon. Their lore dates back way before Ancient Greece and yet Aphrodite still predates him. Aphrodite is not just a soft thing. She started the Trojan war dammit. And she’s been associated with War as well, and not just in the sense that she has a relationship with Ares but of herself (then again haven’t done much research on this part so I could be wrong).

And Aphrodite is of the sea. The sea is no tame thing. It is wild. She is the Goddess of love and beauty and I’m getting a little pissed at Nikto for thinking she wouldn’t find him beautiful when it is her literal job to see the beauty in everything. Like come on dudeeee!!!!

I think the way you wrote him also pairs kinda well with the way you have the other Olympians view Aphrodite!Reader. I’d wonder if Aphrodite!Reader will ever snap on them and show them what it means to be the goddess of love and beauty.

Also fun fact, the ancient Greeks had multiple names for love that all had different meanings. I personally don’t know them all, but from what I recall, Eros is what they call romantic love.

Sorry for blabbing on, you don’t have to respond to this at all, just wanted to vent a little.

Oh no you're fine venting, I think a lot of people often think of Aphrodite in a specific way (pretty goddess of love who just cheats on her husband and is vindictive all the time) and here's what I will say regarding the way I'm writing Aphrodite!Reader:

Neither the reader nor Nikto is a reliable narrator.

Aphrodite sees herself as this wonderful loving force but she still walks the battlefield, taking trophies as often as she takes lives. She views herself as innocent in all of this drama and rumors, but she's done nothing to stop them(It's nice having Ares talk about how beautiful and good in bed she is, y'know?) She loves Nikto but she also treats him a bit like a curiosity, waiting for him to come to her because, well, everyone does eventually.

And Nikto is stuck in his vision of being cast aside by the gods. He's trapped in their mockery of him, why wouldn't he assume his unwilling wife, who begged to be kept a virgin goddess right before their wedding, doesn't like him? Aphrodite forces their way into his life, into his space, disrespecting any boundaries he tries to put up, of course he's wary of them. But at the same time Nikto only sees the parts of Aphrodite that they want him to see, the soft, the gentle, the loving with sweet voices and stroking fingers, so of course he thinks they're a bad fit. He's every bit her opposite.

The Trojan war has yet to happen in the timeline of the hephaestus!Nikto anthology, but I keep thinking about it because it will feel very out of character for Aphrodite to start a war over something as petty as vanity, but that's only because we've been seeing her through her own eyes.

Also I will say I think a lot of my softening of Aphrodite comes from my disbelief at the way goddesses act within Greek mythology. You're telling me every single goddess is vain and jealous, that they can't keep their man from cheating on them, that the Goddess of love can't find anything to love in her husband, that Artemis would turn her back on her desire to remain a virgin because one guy looked at her the right way? Like the way that the goddesses are depicted just reeks of misogyny and that particular brand of ancient Greek hatred for women. IDK So excuse me for making Aphrodite a little out of character from the myths in my attempt to give her the benefit of the doubt where no man ever did.

[luvvzinspo]

(I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER ❤️❤️)

I have a terrible idea, and I need to tell someone... imagine cuddling with Daisuke for the first time. Everything is fine, you lie on him, hugging him gently. when you suddenly feel his erection in his pants( idk how to explain it more, so iykyk) . He is so embrassed about it, But both of you don't comment on it (if you want you can change it). (You dont need to make NSFW, its your choice) You dont need to write this or anything, if you are uncomfortable, just leave it here

KISSES and have a nice day/ night 😘❤️

ans: okay, I'm not sure how exactly to write this, but hell yeah! 😼 (Btw yeah, I kinda got straight to the point aha)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

(read anon's question for summary)

(NSFW)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

•❀• You and daisuke were cuddling after a long day, your leg over his, his face pressed against your chest.

•❀• You hear him mumble something incoherent, and he shifts uncomfortably.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"You okay?"

"Uhm.. hah, yeah. I'm fine."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

•❀• He tries to cross his legs slightly, but it just seems to make whatever he's hiding even worse.

•❀• He looks up at you, so you tilt your head, obviously confused.

•❀• He shifts a bit more, and you feel something against your thigh, You look down. He's crazy, isn't he?

•❀• He knows you know, but he doesn't want to say anything just yet. He squeezes his eyes, hoping you won't say anything either.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Daisuke? Are you..? Um, I'm guessing you know what I'm talking about."

"W-Well, yeah!.. It's all your fault though, and it's a natural reaction so..!"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

•❀• His face gets completely red with blush, and he looks incredibly embarrassed and nervous.

•❀• He avoids your gaze, not wanting to continue the conversation. But you decided to speak up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Do you wanna.. take care of it?"

"Wha—... Huh?!"

"I mean, we were about to go to bed, but I can like.. stroke you off, y'know?"

"...Yeah, okay.. I'd like that.."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

•❀• He tries to hide his excitement, but he's basically shaking. He sits up in the bed, and so do you.

•❀• You tug on his pants, he gasps slightly but lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down, leaving him in only his boxers.

•❀• He looks at you, pleading, as you take his boxers off too, the fabric simply brushing against him is a little bit too much to handle.

•❀• Once they're all the way off, his erection springs free. He gently bites his lip, fighting the urge to just do it himself.

•❀• You wrap your hand around his hardened member, before slowly beginning to stroke him.

•❀• He lets out a shaky breath as your hand envelopes him, the feeling of your touch sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He lets his head fall back against the pillows, his eyes fluttering shut as you start to move your hand.

•❀• His hips buck up involuntarily as you continue, your touch driving him insane. His breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with each pant as he moans softly.

•❀• He grips the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tries to hold back his release. His eyes snap open and he looks up at you, a pleading look in his eyes.

•❀• He can barely form words right now, but the desperation in his expression is clear. He’s so close to finishing already, but he wants to hold out a little longer.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"You're almost finished, already?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

•❀• He nods eagerly, unable to speak as he struggles to keep himself from coming. His body is trembling with the effort, his breaths coming in short gasps. He can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, the tension building with every stroke of your hand. You decide to speed it up.

•❀• A strangled moan escapes his lips as you quicken your pace, his hips bucking up into your hand. He’s completely lost in the sensation, his mind clouded with pleasure. He can feel his climax approaching rapidly now, and he knows he won’t be able to hold it back much longer.

•❀• With a final gasp, he reaches his limit, his whole body tensing as he spills into your hand. He lets out a loud, drawn-out moan, his back arching off the bed as he rides out his orgasm. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes still squeezed shut.

•❀• You smirk slightly, proud of yourself, as he grabs onto your hand, exhausted.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Mmph.. thank you.."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

•❀• He mumbles against your chest, clearly tired from everything that just happened.

•❀• You rest your leg over his, and gently massage and scratch his scalp as you both return to cuddling.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

I might do a Q&A, idk, I'm so bored for some reason. But this was really fun to write, thanks anon!! 🎀

[silvercap]

I love giving our boy a fever, so 2 and Leon for the hurt/comfort dialogue prompt please! (Maybe with Chris as the one saying it to him?) <3

Sure!! <3

2. "You're burning up."

Leon's been grumpy ever since he arrived, sitting sullenly in his seat on the BSAA infiltration chopper, arms crossed and legs spread to exude an air of arrogant disdain that Chris can tell is getting to some of the younger men. They're not unused to rough superiors, most of them having come from the army, but to see the great Leon Kennedy glaring at them like they're bags of garbage---well, it's not great for morale. Chris takes an opportunity to sidle closer once he's done inspecting his rifle, settling a seat away.

"Everything okay?" he asks in an undertone, doing his best to disguise his worry. He's shocked when Leon responds violently with a harsh, hateful glare.

"Fuck off, Redfield," he spits, clearly not okay. His blue eyes are sharp, but slightly glazed, like he'd almost fallen asleep while staring daggers at Chris's recruits. "I'm fine."

"Doesn't look fine," Chris tries, only to lift his hands when Leon scowls in aggravation. "Okay, okay! You know yourself better than I do, man. It's just---you're scaring the newbies with all that Kennedy attitude, y'know?"

He does his best to inject some lightness into his tone, but Leon's expression sours even further, if that were possible. "I told you, it's nothing. Just back off, alright? I could do without the mother hen-ing, today."

Chris falls silent as the chopper begins its descent into the landing zone, sneaking glances at the profile of Leon's face as the man settles back into an irritated pose. His skin is strangely shiny with sweat, Chris notes, the small hairs at the back of his neck slicked together into thick, damp strands. It's nowhere near hot enough to make him that warm, not even with the jacket Leon has clutched around him.

It's when he lurches to his feet as the chopper lands that Chris gets really concerned, Leon's knees buckling almost immediately. He sways for a moment as Chris launches himself upright, then collapses directly into Chris's waiting arms with perfect timing. One of the men gasps as Chris pulls him close and presses a hand to his glistening forehead, tutting when feverish heat meets his palm.

"You're burning up," he says incredulously, refusing to let go of Leon when he squirms weakly. He looks so dazed that Chris isn't sure how he missed all the signs, the bags under his eyes even darker than usual against his pale skin. "Is that what this is about? Why the hell would you come on an op if you're sick?"

" 'm not sick," Leon pouts, pushing at his arms, and Chris understands in an instant. What a stubborn, mulish man his best friend can be. He sighs, guiding Leon back into his seat. The fact that he doesn't fight it tells Chris all he needs to know.

"Don't you dare move," he orders, meeting one of his soldiers' gazes in the corner of his eye and gesturing them over. Leon lets his eyes fall shut and leans his head back against the metal wall, face twisted---but not in anger, Chris realizes. That's a frustrated look of pain. "You are way too warm to be in a battle zone, and you don't look well at all. What hurts?"

"Nothing," Leon crabs.

"Sir?" the young woman Chris had summoned asks, now at his side. She glances nervously between Leon and Chris a few times, ponytail swishing.

"Jenny here will take a look at you," Chris says, rising to his full height. Leon cracks open a baleful eye, groaning. "Now, you can either tell her what's wrong so she can make sure you're alright, or I can take us all home to admit you to the BSAA medical wing. Which would you prefer?"

"You fucking liar. You wouldn't."

"I might." Chris bites back the smile prying at his lips, holding his stony gaze until Leon finally sighs and relents. "You should be at home, resting."

"It's just a headache," Leon insists, but Chris has already won.

"Well, then, I'm sure you won't mind if Jenny gets you something for that while we finish the mission." If he's guessed right, then Leon's too exhausted to even try to slip away, meaning he'll be safe where a medic can look him over and make sure he isn't boiling his brains out being an idiot. The confusion in his gaze had been palpable when Chris had caught him, and he needs to be in bed with a cool compress and some soup. Chris can supply that later.

"No," Leon murmurs, finally giving in. He must be feeling truly awful, and Chris is thankful he saw the signs in time. "I won't."

[leonardperreault]

Be my friend, hold me wrap me up, enfold me I am small and needy, warm me up and breathe me

Ryan x Brooklyn

The high of winning a second world juniors gold medal was crashing down, so Ryan goes to the one place he knows he'll feel safe.

warnings: Ryan has a breakdown after the last 72 hours of being on a high. Brooklyns sorority house has a no boys upstairs rule. Brooklyn and Ryan break it (with permission).

Brooklyn looks up at the knock on her door,

"Come in!" she calls,

"Hey Brookey," Mia one of her sorority sisters says as she pokes her head in, "Ryan is downstairs," Brooklyn looks over at Mia confused,

"My boyfriend Ryan?" she asks. Mia nods her head,

"Yep,"

"He's here? In this house?" she follows up,

"Mhm," Mia hums. Brooklyn pushes herself away from her desk and out of her chair,

"Alright I'll go check it out," she says as she moves towards the door, "Thank you for letting me know,"

"No problem babe!" Mia calls as she skips down the hall.

Brooklyn shakes her head at the girls antics as she shuts the door to her room and makes her way downstairs.

"Oh hey babe!" Brooklyn cheered, "I didn't know you were stopping by!" but the Amherst native stops when she sees how hunched over and pink faced his face is,

"Ry," she whispers as she approaches him, "What's going on?"

"I-" he chokes out, "I-" he tries again,

"Shhhhh," Brooklyn coos, "Its ok," she looks around making sure no one else is around, "Come on lets go upstairs,"

"But-" he starts but Brooklyn shakes her head,

"It's fine. Nicole loves you and I'll shoot her a text, if she wants to fine me she can, but you are not ok, so we're going to go talk about it," Brooklyn manages to get Ryan into her room, and just as shes about to step inside, Nicole, the house mom comes out of nowhere,

"Have him out by 9 tomorrow morning Brooklyn," Brooklyn turns in surprise,

"Really?" she asks,

"I trust you guys plus he looked like he needed it," Brooklyn smiles,

"Thank you Nicole," the sophomore says, "I appreciate it," the house mom nods before walking back downstairs.

Once left alone Brooklyn steps into her room, frowning when she finds Ryan standing in the middle looking lost.

He doesn't notice she's there until she reaches out and grabs his hand,

"Wanna get into bed bubs?" she asks. Ryan looks at her eyes red rimmed,

"I don't- I-" Brooklyn nods,

"Ok," she whispers, "I have some of your sweats ok? Let's get you into those, then we'll cuddle and talk,"

Carefully she maneuvers her boyfriend onto her bed then goes and retrieves some of his old hockey merch that she stole over the years.

"Put this on bubs. I'm gonna change too," she hands Ryan the folded clothes before going back to her drawers.

When she turns back to Ryan he's tucked into her barefoot dreams blanket curled up on his side in a ball.

"Hi baby," she coos cupping his cheek gently, "You ready to talk about it?" Ryan nods sniffling. Brooklyn smiles leaning down to kiss between his eyebrows, "I love you," she assures before she climbs into bed with her boyfriend.

Once they're comfortable Brooklyn reaches back up to cup Ryan's cheek again,

"What's going on?" she asks,

"I don't- I can't- I- I-" Ryan continues to stumble over his words. The girl hums,

"Ry," she whispers, "I don't- I can't help you," Ryan sobs collapsing into her chest,

"I'm sorry!" he cries, "I don't know what to do! I can't-" he chokes out gasping for breath,

"Oh shhhh," Brooklyn hushes wrapping her arms around him rubbing his back, "It's ok baby. Let it out,"

Brooklyn losses track of time but soon Ryan's reduced to sniffles,

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I didn't-" Brooklyn smiles reassuringly,

"It's ok," she assures, "but what's going on?" Ryan lets out a breath,

"I just. I've been terrible at practice all week," Brooklyn lets out a hum, "And all they want is for me to be good, and I can tell Gabe and Jamie are getting annoyed and I just can't get it together, and GOD I was MVP. And now I can't even fucking make a pass," she hums again,

"What about you? How's your head? Where are you at?"

"I don't know!" he exclaims, "I just- what if-" Brooklyn nods,

"Say it," she encourage,

"But,"

"No. It'll keep fucking you up, if you don't talk about it," Ryan sighs,

"What if I'm not good enough?" he whispers,

"Oh Ry," she coos, "You're so good baby," she assures,

"But-" he tries,

"No say you're the fucking best," she presses,

"B," he tries,

"No Ryan say it,"

"I'm the fucking best," he whispers,

"Say it again," she insists,

"I'm the fucking best!" this time a little louder a smile appearing on his face,

"There we go," she whispers, "You're the fucking best Ry, and I love you so much," Ryan's cheeks tinge pink as he ducks his head into her neck,

"Thank you," he mumbles before he lets out a breath, "I'm sorry," Brooklyn leans down to kiss the top of his head,

"It's ok, sometimes we all need a cry,"

[samgirl98]

Connecting a Family 1/?

Next

Jason and his small family go to Gotham to reconnect with the Waynes during his birthday week

This was supposed to be a one-shot. It didn't turn out that way.

“A little to the left. There! Perfect!” Bruce exclaimed.

He turned and talked to the cleaning company manager he had hired.

“And everything is finished? Are the rooms done?”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne. Everything has been done to your and Mr. Pennyworth’s specifications. You are more than welcome to check.”

“Thank you. I'll check in a bit—oh, that banner needs to go over the doorway, not the window!”

Dick went up to the manager Bruce had been speaking to.

“I apologize for this. Bruce is a little nervous,” he said sheepishly.

“It is no problem, Mr. Grayson,” he said, not looking up from his iPad. “He’s not the worst I’ve had, and he's polite even in his demands.”

With that, the manager left.

Dick sighed and went to stop Bruce from harassing the decorators.

Bruce inspected the balloons on the balloon arc for any flaw he thought they might have. What flaws can balloons even have, Bruce?

Still, Dick understood Bruce’s nervousness.

Jason and his small family finally agreed to stay at the Manor for Jason and Alfred’s birthday week. It had been a surprise for the family in Gotham but a pleasant one.

And then Bruce went off the rails, trying to make sure everything was “perfect.”

Again, Dick understood. He wanted Jason and his family to have a great time in Gotham so they would be more inclined to return and visit, but Bruce was taking it to another level. The best Dick could do was follow Bruce around and try to rein him in. It wasn't working.

Maybe he should bring Mar’i to Bruce to see if she could calm him down. If Dick could figure out which of his siblings had his daughter.

“Bruce, can you help me look for Mar’i? It's time to give her lunch.”

Dick grabbed a hold of Bruce and dragged him away from the decorating manager. Bruce had harassed the poor employees long enough.

“Wait, I have to make sure they got the ballroom!”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Bruce, you hired them for a reason; they're the best. Let them do their jobs and help me find my daughter. Besides. I doubt Jason and his family will care if the balloon arc is three inches off center to the right.”

“I don’t know. Jason has always been a stickler for details,” Bruce tried to argue back.

“Not to this extent, Bruce. Chill.”

“Fine. Fine!” He took out his phone, “Maybe I can use this time to see if J’onn and Clark will still come. Oh, Kory is still invited. Make sure she shows up.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose.

Since Bruce learned that Danny liked space and aliens, he had been trying to bribe him with autographs, telescopes, and other space memorabilia. When Bruce found out that Jason was coming to Gotham with Danny, he called in a favor from his teammates to come over to meet Danny. Still, bothering his teammates will make them less inclined to come.

“Give me this,” Dick said as he took the phone out of Bruce’s hands, “Stop harassing people!”

Batman didn’t pout, but Bruce was close to doing so.

“What if Jason calls?”

“Then I’ll answer. Help me find my kid.”

They eventually found Mar’i in the kitchen eating a sandwich.

Alfred didn’t get frantic, but he was close when they entered. He mumbled to himself and checked over the food. All of which were Jason’s favorites.

“C’mon Alfie, not you, too.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Master Dick.”

“Alfie had been freaking out since this morning,” Mar’i said, “It’s funny.”

“Really, Miss Marie, it’s not funny at all to laugh at this old man’s distress.”

“Mar’i,” Dick said, “apologize.”

“Sorry, Alfie.”

“Apology accepted,” he said even as he read a recipe that Dick knew Alfred had memorized. Dick sighed—this family.

“Alfred, Jason is going to love whatever you make him.”

“Hmm, that may be true, but I’m trying to impress more than just Master Jason. After all, I’ve heard his son is a bit of a hard case to get to one’s side.”

Dick said nothing. Alfred wasn’t wrong. Danny could be a bit prickly. Dick still remembered Danny’s glowing green glare and tried to subdue a shudder. He didn’t think it worked.

“I’m sure Danny will love whatever you make, Alfie,” Dick tried to reassure the old butler. Besides, Dick needed Alfred on his side.

A chime made everyone jump. Dick pulled out Bruce’s phone and read the message.

“Their plane has landed.”

____

Jason took a deep breath, taking in the rancid, smoggy Gotham air. The clouds threatened rain.

It was home.

As much as he loved his little haunt, there was just something about Gotham that made him feel welcomed. It was almost like a mother opening her arms and welcoming him back home.

“Ugh, what is that smell,” Jazz asked while holding her nose.

“That’s Gotham,” Jason said proudly.

Ellie held her little hands over her nose while Jazz made retching noises. Jason laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go get that car. I’ll show you around later.”

“Does the rest of Gotham smell this way,” Jazz murmured. Jason ignored her.

They had opted to rent a car instead of allowing Alfred to drive them or use one of Bruce’s cars. It gave them a sense of freedom to know they could get up and leave in their own vehicle if things went south.

Jason hoped it didn’t. He wanted his two families to get along.

They got in their temporary car and took on Gotham’s traffic.

Jason pointed out landmarks and gargoyles he would hide in when he was Robin. He even pointed out his favorite one. He wondered how many times he had hidden by that gargoyle to get away from it all. It knew all of his secrets, fears, and hopes.  

Jazz and Ellie stared at everything with wide eyes while Danny stared out the window. He looked like he was contemplating something, and Jason hoped it wasn’t something bad, like how he would annoy the family…or scare them.

Because of Gotham traffic, it took them a little over an hour to get from the airport to Wayne Manor. They had seen a few accidents along the way. Gotham never changed, which was comforting in a way. Gotham would always be the same, no matter how long he was away.

They reached the manor and stopped in front of the gates decorated with balloons and lights. Jason smiled. He bet Bruce was going crazy trying to make everything perfect for his prodigal son's return.

Jason put in his codes and watched as the gates slowly opened.

Ellie and Jazz stared with huge eyes as they took in the estate and the manor. Danny was glaring at everything with glowing eyes.

“Behave, Danny,” Jason said in a warning tone.

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny retaliated back.

“Cool it with the spooky eyes, baby brother.”

Danny glared one last time. Then his eyes returned to his usual baby blues.

“Thanks, Danny. It means a lot to me,” Jason said.

Danny nodded once and looked out the window, his chin resting on his hand. He looked very unimpressed by the luxury surrounding him. They stopped in front of Wayne Manor, where the whole family stood waiting to greet them. Lights were decorating the doorway even though it was daytime. It was a bit intimidating, if Jason was being honest. After all, he hadn’t met most of them, and now they were standing before him to judge him and his family. He hoped they didn’t find them lacking. Not that his small family wasn’t anything but perfect…Well, for the most part.

Jazz got out first. Jason followed. Jazz took Ellie from her car seat while Jason opened the door for Danny.

“Behave,” he whispered at his son.

Danny rolled his eyes, “They better behave, too. They have only one chance to impress me.”

Jason sighed. Well, that’s the best he could do. Danny was a stubborn boy, after all. It was all up to the Wayne Family now. He wouldn’t help them if they wanted Danny’s trust and love.

Jason took Danny’s hand and went before the family. His palms sweated as he stood in front of them. Jazz stood by him, holding Ellie in her arms.

“Jason, Jazz, Danny, Ellie, welcome to Wayne Manor,” Bruce said. He walked up to Jason and put his arms around Jason. “Welcome back, son.”

Jason soaked in his father’s touch for a few extra seconds before he started squirming to be let go. After all, he was still holding Danny’s hand, and he felt how uncomfortable his son felt. Bruce let go and got down to Danny’s level.

“I have a surprise for you later.”

“Oh, now we’re trying to buy a kid’s love.”

“Danny,” Jason reprimanded sharply, “apologize.”

Bruce laughed, “It’s okay, Jay lad, I’m not offended.”

“He should be,” Danny whispered under his breath. Jason only caught it because of his super hearing. Even Jazz turned and gave Danny a look. His sweet son didn’t look cowed and jutted out his chin. Jason sighed. He’d have to talk to Danny later.

“Come, let’s greet the family.”

Danny dragged his feet as he walked up.

Alfred was the first one to introduce himself. He bowed to Danny.

“Welcome, Master Danny, to Wayne Manor. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne Family’s butler.”

Danny stared blankly at Alfred. Jason nudged Danny. Jason wanted this to go well but knew it was up to them. He could try to facilitate things but nothing else.

Danny sighed, “Hello, Mr. Pennyworth. Dad has talked great about you. I like the recipes you taught him.”

“Please, call me Alfred. I’m glad I could please you even while far away.”

“Heh, okay, Alfred,” Danny chuckled and then turned to look at the rest of the family. Everyone started squirming at Danny’s stare. His eyes weren’t glowing, but his stare was intense. Tim even hid behind Cassandra. Danny smirked at Tim’s actions. Duke Thomas walked up first. His stance was relaxed, and he had on an easy smile.

“Hey, I’m Duke,” the newest member said, shaking Jason and Danny’s hands. “I have powers, too. It’s nice to have more people who know what it’s like.”

“Hey, Duke, I’m Jason; this is my son, Danny, and my sister, Jazz, and niece, Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you! It’s fun to have more niblings!”

“I’m not your nephew, and you’re not my uncle,” Danny said quickly.

Duke’s smile didn’t fall.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I hope you see me as a family member in the future, even if you don’t see me as an uncle.”

Danny said nothing and looked at the rest of the family. Stephanie Brown introduced herself next, followed by Barbara and Cassandra.

“Call me Cass, though.”

“Cass,” Danny repeated as he studied her, “You’ve been touched by death.”

He doubted anyone else noticed; she didn’t flinch or react, really, but Jason knew, he could feel it in his core, that Cass was perturbed when Danny mentioned death.

“Danny, don’t mention death to other people,” he reprimanded his son. It was one thing to talk about death in their small family, but he doubted others would be comfortable talking about that subject.

“Sorry,” Danny said, sounding sincere.

“My name is Damian Al Ghul Wayne, heir to the Cowl and League.”

“Damian,” Bruce hissed at his youngest.

Danny blinked at Damian, “Okay. Nice to meet you, I guess; I’m Danny Nightingale. I’m not an heir to anything, though.”

“Tt, whatever.”

Damian said nothing, and everyone else introduced themselves. The last one to introduce herself was Mar’i.

“Hi, I’m Mar’i. I heard you can fly, too. That’s so cool! Maybe we can race.”

“Cool. I heard your mom is an alien princess. Have you ever been to space? Have you been to your mom’s planet? It’s so cool that you’re half-alien!”

“Yeah, my mom is from Tamaran. I’ve been there once with my parents. It’s nice. Why do you wanna go?”

“Yes,” Danny breathed out, his body vibrating with excitement.

“Before we plan to let you go on extraterrestrial travels, let’s settle here first, yeah, Danny lad?”

Danny walked with Mar’i, asking her questions. The little girl seemed to be enjoying all the attention. Jason and Bruce brought in the luggage, ignoring Alfred’s insistence that he could do it. The old butler wasn’t getting any younger, and Jason could carry his stuff.

Jason gave one last look toward Danny and watched as he listened to whatever Mar’i was telling him with rapt attention. Jason couldn’t help but smile. At least his son was enjoying himself with one family member. It was a start.

“I’ll go put our things in our rooms. Alfie, where are we going to stay?”

“In the family wing, of course. I have prepared rooms for you and put a crib where Miss Jazz will sleep in case she wants the little one with her.”

“Thanks, Alfie.”

“Come on, Danny. I’ll show you where we’re staying.”

Danny seemed reluctant to leave Mar’i behind. His little boy had gotten attached to his cousin quickly.

“Can’t you show me later?”

“I can show you,” Mar’i quickly interrupted, “You can tell me about yourself now.”

“Okay,” Danny said while following the little girl.

“I’m glad Mar’i and Danny are getting along,” Dick said.

“Me too.”

Dick smiled at Jason, “Welcome back, Little Wing, welcome back.

____

Bruce couldn’t help but hover over Jason.

It was a miracle to have his son back in the manor, and Bruce was enjoying it as much as he could. After all, Jason was only here for a finite time. He was also enchanted by Ellie’s sweet, mischievous smile and Danny’s curiosity about all things space. He couldn’t get a good read on Jazz, but Tim’s warning to stay away from her if they didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed by an intelligent and competent person.

He remembered the wary look his children and children adjacent had given at Tim’s words.

Bruce didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed by anyone, but for the sake of his son, he wouldn’t mind having his mind prodded. Jason loved Jazz like a sister, and he doubted Jason wouldn’t notice if people tried to ostracize her. Bruce would lead by example.

Jason had found happiness with his own family, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel pride and joy for his son. He could only hope he would be allowed to be a part of Jason’s family.

“The drawing room is ready. I have prepared refreshments for everyone to enjoy.”

“You’ll join us, Alfie, right,” Jason asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Master Jason.”

Danny stared at the drawing room with disdain while Ellie pointed at all the balloons and decorations.

“I think dad went a bit overboard, huh, Dick?”

Bruce flushed while still feeling a deep sense of joy deep in his heart. Jason called him dad. Bruce tried to keep the tears out of his eyes.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he said instead.

Jason rolled his eyes and turned toward his siblings.

“Let me guess. He harassed the workers in his quest to make things ‘perfect.’”

“Oh, you should’ve seen it, Jay; he couldn’t leave the poor suckers alone. I had to apologize for his behavior.”

“He was trying to find fault with the balloon arch,” Tim added, “What imperfections could balloons even have?”

“They could’ve been different sizes,” Bruce added mulishly, “I had to make sure they were all the right size.”

“How many arcs are there,” Jason asked, “’Cuz I’ve seen five already. Were you planning on inspecting them all, B?”

Bruce crossed his arms and raised his chin stubbornly.

All his children shook their heads, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation.  

“I can show you videos later, Jay,” Barbara, the traitor, said.

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, why don’t we eat? I’m sure everyone is famished.”

“I don’t know, old man, I’m kind of enjoying poking fun at you,” Jason said.

Bruce ignored his miracle child and went for a cucumber sandwich.

Danny went up to the table and inspected everything. He finally decided on a blueberry scone and bit into it, his eyes widening at the taste.

“Daddy, they taste like yours!”

“More like mine taste like Alfred’s. He taught me everything I know about cooking and baking.”

Danny stuffed the rest of the scone into his mouth while looking at Alfred. Danny picked up a cookie and sandwich as he swallowed the scone.

“Danny, you’re going to choke.”

Danny smiled mischievously and stuffed the cookie into his mouth.  

“It’s not like it’ll kill me,” he said with his mouth full, “I’m already half-dead.”

The room got silent; everyone held their breath. Bruce could tell what everyone was thinking: Died? Danny had died? He’s half-dead?

Bruce knew a little about Danny and Jason and how they had gained powers, but he hadn’t told anyone else in the family, trying to protect Jason’s and his family’s privacy. Looking at the horrified looks on his children’s faces (except Tim’s), Bruce couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake in not giving his family a heads-up.

Danny looked around the room. Then his eyes widened in understanding.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that so casually. I’m so used to joking about my death and resurrection in my old life, and within our small family, I forget that not everyone would look at it as a joke.”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, “Let’s not dwell on it and eat.”

Jason walked up to Danny and ruffled his hair. It was only then that Danny seemed to untense. Danny said something to Jason, and Jason smiled at Danny. He whispered something in the little boy’s ears and hugged his son.

Mar’i showed up to talk to Danny, and the two of them scampered off.

“Is he okay,” Bruce asked.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I know death is a taboo subject to most people, but Danny tends to cope with jokes. I do, too, to be honest.”

“I understand. I wish he didn’t have that trauma and had to cope, but we all find different ways.”

Jason nodded.

“So, what’s the surprise? ‘Cuz you already have the manor decked out from top to bottom, and the food is delicious. Don’t tell me you got him a rocket or something,” Bruce could tell Jason was only half joking.

“I’m not that out of touch, Jay lad.”

Jason raised an eyebrow and pointedly looked at the balloon arches and hanging banners.

Bruce sighed. Okay, maybe he went a bit overboard with the decorations.

“I asked Clark, J’onn, and Starfire to come. They’ll be here a little later.”

“Oh, Danny is going to freak. He loves Martian Manhunter. He says he’s his favorite superhero.”

Bruce almost pouted. Why did none of his children or grandchildren say Batman was their favorite? It was always someone else.

“Why’re pouting, old man? No one will say Batman is their favorite because we know you too well.”

Bruce actually pouted before smiling.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jay lad. I missed you.”

Jason tackled Bruce with a hug, “I missed you, too, dad.”

Happy New Year!

[nostalgiacountdown]

Onodera Ritsu no Baai No.39 Summary

Hi there! This chapter released last year on December 27th! I’ve wanted to do this style of post for quite a few magazine issues, but this is the first time I’m getting around to actually doing it. I encourage you to buy Emerald magazine, which Sekaiichi Hatsukoi releases in three times a year, as well as the volume releases when possible. Summary below!

The chapter begins with Ritsu leaving Takano’s apartment the morning after the events of the last chapter, promising to come back after he’s showered and gotten dressed at his own apartment to eat breakfast with Takano.

The whole time that Ritsu is on his own in his apartment he’s having an internal monologue about his now boyfriend that keeps switching between sweet and hilarious.

While he’s in the shower, he reflects on recent events and eventually he looks at himself in the mirror, thinking back to the previous night when he sees himself covered in hickies from the neck down. (Oddly enough, these are gone by the end of the chapter despite it being the evening of the same day.) He thinks about how good the sex was the night before and how he could feel Takano’s excitement through his body. Thinking about it makes him all fuzzy and happy.

When he exits the shower, he asks himself if he and Takano are really dating now, and he concludes that their relationship has upgraded from their weird sex friend status to proper lovers. But thinking about the word “lover” gets him all hung up on the concept of dating in general. What do lovers do? How is he supposed to act from now on? He thinks back to Ch.18 when Takano said that he just wanted to be lovey-dovey/flirt with him all the time. Ritsu still doesn’t understand that line of thought months later, so being Ritsu, he sits down on the couch once he’s dressed and pulls out his phone to look up what “lovey-dovey”/flirting/whatever really means.

“Commuting together? Eating together? …Huh? We already do that, don’t we? No, no, there has to be something more to it. Giving each other presents? Going on dates? Going on overnight trips together? Sex? …Were we already dating??”

Other than the out-of-whack order in which things played out, Ritsu is realizing that they have a fairly normal relationship. He doesn’t know where to start or how to act though now that the label they're putting on it has changed.

As he sits there continuing to spiral, Hatori sends him a text. Chiaki finished his manuscript a couple of days before his extended deadline and he wants Ritsu to come in early to help him check it because it’s suspicious that it’s supposedly done. He gives up on breakfast with Takano (not bothering to actually contact Takano to say what he’s doing before he’s left the building, instead waiting to do so until he’s already out of there, bad Ritsu 😭) and heads into work.

As expected, there’s issues with the manuscript. It’s missing multiple pages. Hatori is apologetic for having Ritsu come in ahead of him to check something that wasn’t even complete, but Ritsu assures him that it’s fine. Next Kisa comes in, and then right after him is Takano, who gives a look to Ritsu that conveys that he’s not thrilled about how their day started. Although from the outside he’s acting pretty normal, Ritsu can tell that Takano is unhappy with him, only talking to him for necessary work tasks. Ritsu is still ruminating on the concept of being lovers and how he still doesn’t get it, trying to tell himself that this couldn’t be helped because they’re towards the end of the editing cycle and things are busy.

Later during the work day, Ritsu leaves his desk to go grab a drink from one of the vending machines. While by the elevator, he overhears people from other departments talking about Kurusu (the girl who confessed to Takano last chapter) and how she had come to work with bloodshot eyes as if she’d been crying. She was playing it off as hay fever, but the people gossiping could tell she was lying. Ritsu listens in until the elevator he’s waiting for arrives, and he thinks to himself how because Takano loves him and accepted his confession that she’ll never be able to be with Takano. The whole thing makes him feel awkward, but he couldn’t give up on Takano.

The next page cuts to the vending machine, and right as Ritsu goes to choose his drink, Takano swoops in and presses the button for him. Ritsu scolds him, asking him just how many times he’s going to do something like this. (I only remember him doing it on screen once in No.5) Takano still doesn’t say anything to him though, just handing him the bottle that fell from the vending machine. Ritsu starts to worry that Takano is really upset with him. He wishes that Takano would just tell him with words what was wrong, that he wouldn’t understand unless he told him. (Callback to No.21)

His thoughts shift to how it was bad of him to do what he did this morning, but just then what appears to be a high school couple in uniform walk past the front windows of the office. Ritsu can’t help but notice how natural the two of them look holding hands and smiling. (Callback to 4.5) At some point he starting thinking that things would change if they were dating, but he’s wondering if he set his expectations too high.

Cut to the end of the workday, and Takano approaches Ritsu as he exits the office building, calling out to him. Ritsu is stiff at first, bowing and telling Takano he did good today and that he’d be leaving now, but Takano just said they’d be walking home together. Ritsu is surprised, but doesn’t fight it, even agreeing when Takano asks if they can walk awhile longer today to the second nearest station instead.

There’s a shot of them surrounded by the sounds the accompany a passing train that’s reminiscent of the flashback at the end of No.27. Ritsu thinks things are awkward until Takano finally speaks up. He says something along the lines of how he doesn’t really know how to go about this whole lovey-dovey thing. Ritsu is shocked, but admits he’s in the same boat. Takano thinks it’s funny and remarks they really haven’t made any progress in terms of relationship experience in the past decade. Ritsu objects to this, saying that he’s heard from certain sources that Takano had many partners during their time apart. Takano clarifies that even if that was the case, he hadn’t had the desire to flirt/be lovey-dovey with any of those past partners. He’d only ever felt that kind of urge when it came to Ritsu. As he keeps talking, Ritsu finds himself realizing that they really (finally lol) are on the same page when it comes to their relationship.

Takano then demands that Ritsu give him some lovey-dovey scenarios as the shoujo manga editor that he is and he begrudgingly obliges. He talks about how they could commute to work together, how they could eat meals together, and how they could go on dates together. When Takano asks where they should go on dates, Ritsu lists all sorts of things: traveling, shopping, going to the movies, zoos, aquariums, amusement parks, museums, and yes, even the library. (He seems hesitant to mention it when he adds that last one.) But at the end of his list, Ritsu admits that it doesn’t really matter where they go, so long as it’s together. (Callback to something Takano said to him in No.14) Takano smiles when he says that, saying that they should absolutely do all of those things.

Right as they finish this leg of their walk, they arrive at a familiar shrine. It’s the same shrine that Takano cut through back in March on Ritsu’s birthday in No.13 to accompany him home when he was too drunk to get home on his own. He had always wanted to come here together when Ritsu was sober. Recalling the day, he says to himself that the cherry blossoms were beautiful. (The panel under those words is a younger version of themselves, Oda following closely behind Saga in their high school uniforms.)

This conversation leads to Ritsu bringing up Takano’s birthday, and he’s embarrassed about the gift that he gave him back then. The pinky promise they make happens right after the birthday mention, so it seems related to celebrating both of their birthdays properly from now on since they’re dating so long as work doesn’t interfere. The pinky promise turns into holding hands, and then it cuts to them still holding hands, having arrived at the front doors of their apartments.

Takano asks which apartment they should go into, but he ends up wanting to go to Ritsu’s so he can use the spare key he has for it now. (This is the first time we’ve seen him use a key of his own to get into Ritsu’s apartment. It seems he really did receive one between No.35 and 36 when he was staying at Ritsu’s apartment temporarily, although it was never directly shown.) A lot of emphasis is put on this scene, with a racing heartbeat sound effect playing throughout until Takano finally unlocks Ritsu’s front door. He tugs Ritsu in behind him and immediately starts kissing him and working on removing his clothes.

The next page cuts to them in the bathroom naked together. They’re sitting on the ledge of Ritsu’s bathtub touching each other. They’re kissing, Takano is playing with Ritsu’s nipples, and Ritsu is rubbing both of their dicks together with his hands.

Takano decides to pull away, kneeling on the floor in front of the tub to give Ritsu a blowjob. Ritsu was close already and it didn’t take long at all for him to cum. Takano says that it’s Ritsu’s turn now, and they swap places, Ritsu now kneeling on the floor in front of Takano.

Ritsu starts giving Takano a blowjob, but there’s a lot more going on here lol. Takano is tweaking each of Ritsu’s nipples and also using his feet to give him a foot job. (I’m not sure how he’s balancing, it’s weird lol) It’s going well enough until Ritsu looks up at Takano with his mouth still full and both his hands around Takano’s dick, saying a weirdly muffled version of Takano-san that comes out more like “Taka…no-hya…” because his mouth is pretty busy.

Ritsu calling his name so erotically combined with sight of his with half-lidded eyes, blush all over his face, and his mouth somewhat open with his tongue covered in pre-cum seems to be too much for Takano, because right after he’s cumming like crazy. Ritsu can’t pull back fast enough, and Takano’s cum is shot all over his face, hair, neck, chin, and chest. Calling back to the time Ritsu gave Takano a facial in No.24, Ritsu says that they’re even now, following that up by asking if it felt good.

Takano says that it did, because how else would he have cum like that? Ritsu is happy, fist pumping and says something along the lines of “I did it…I’m so glad…” (This is the first time we’ve seen Ritsu fully get Takano off with a blowjob on screen before. His blowjob training arc is coming to an end 10 real life years later lol.)

The sight of Ritsu being so happy that he was able to make him feel good gives Takano cuteness aggression and he blushes a bit. He swears and grabs Ritsu off of the floor and drags him onto his feet, kissing him. Moments later he pulls them backwards until they’re falling into the bathtub together. He gives Ritsu the option to stop now, or go all the way. Ritsu says that he’s unfair, and they continue having sex, now in the tub. Ritsu is on Takano’s lap, but I’m not really sure who’s doing most of the movement. I feel like it could be argued that he’s riding Takano here, but there’s not many pages to clarify that. 😂

On the last page of the sex scene, Takano says he loves Ritsu twice, the second time receiving a “…me too...” in response. 💖

On the very last page of the chapter, they’re cuddled up together in the bathtub, still talking about the concept of lovey-dovey. In a callback to No.19, Takano says that it’s a difficult concept. But Takano basically says that it’s okay since it’s only their first day together, and they have time to figure things out together now that they're dating. 😇

The End ✌️

Sekaiichi Hatsukoi’s next chapter will be released at the end of April, the contents of the chapter unconfirmed at the moment! Takano and Ritsu are on the next magazine issue’s front cover, but that unfortunately doesn’t confirm anything yet lol. Stay tuned for more info. 💖

[harrietswriting]

Hihi! Im so sorry if this is pushing a boundary or something, but personally, I struggle with an eating disorder. I was wondering if you could write like a Curtis sister imagine where one of them finds out that reader is dealing with an ed and tells the other brothers? Just like a shit ton of angst + comfort. Again, I’m so sorry if this is pushing some sort of boundary. I hope you have a lovely day 🫶🏻

Your Brothers Found Out You Have an ED

Curtis Brothers x gn!sibling!reader

An: I wish everyone out there struggling with an ed the best of luck at recovery. Yall are beautiful and deserve the world. 💕 I hope this is kinda accurate. If it's not and it's weird then please let me know!

Word count: 750

W: discussion of ED, reader with ED, Darry is a bit insensitive at first

"I'm not really hungry, Darry." You stand in the kitchens entryway and mess with your sleeves as your older brother cooks dinner. "I ate earlier."

"Well, you need to stop doing that. You're always spoiling your dinner. When was the last time you ate with us, y/n?" He looks over at you.

Your cheeks flush and you avoid his eyes. It's been awhile since you've eaten dinner with them. You normally just drink a glass of water and talk about your day as they eat, trying to talk over the grumbling of your stomach. But you lie, "I ate that pasta you made a few nights ago." You had taken a bite of the Alfredo pasta, but you felt awfully guilty and regretted it.

Sodapop had been sitting in the dining room and had over heard your conversation with Darry. He'd noticed your lack of eating and was really worried about you. Maybe Darry couldn't see that something was wrong, but Soda could. He couldn't remember that last time he'd seen you eat a healthy amount of food. He's also noticed your abnormal weight loss and how fatigued you've been lately.

"I'll eat leftovers when I get hungry." You lie.

Darry sighs then goes back to cooking. "Okay, y/n."

"Sorry."

"Its fine, but you're eating with us tomorrow."

Damn it. You'd have to ask one of your friends if you could stay over or hang out at their house tomorrow evening to avoid that. But you say: "okay."

You turn around and walk out of the kitchen, heading towards your room. You try not to panic about potentially having to eat dinner tomorrow while you walk.

Soda watches you go towards your room. Hr waits until he hears the door close, then he gets up and heads into the kitchen.

"Hey Darry, we need to talk about y/n." Soda says.

Darry looks up from the pot he's stirring and gives Sodapop a questioning look. "What about 'em?"

Soda hesitates for a moment, then begins. "I don't think they're eating Darry. Like, at all. Or at least, not nearly enough."

Darry's saddened by this idea, and a long, sad, heartbreaking conversation follows. He doesn't want to believe Soda at first.

Ponyboy finally finished his homework and joined his brothers in the kitchen. His heart dropped when he heard what Soda thought.

"You really think... why would y/n do that?" He asks quietly.

Soda shrugs. "I don’t know. So, what do we do now? Do we have an intervention kind of thing?"

"Y/n is eating dinner with us." Darry states, then calls your name.

"Darry, I don’t know if rushing them into eating is the best idea." Soda counters.

You come out of your room and make your way to the kitchen where all three of your brothers are. "Yeah?"

"You're eating dinner with us." Darry crosses his arms. Soda looks at you sympatheticly and Ponyboy looks worried. They can't know, right?

"I ate earlier though." You say quietly, trying to mask your panic. Soda frowns.

"What'd you eat?" Darry asks.

You pause. "I.. I made eggs."

"Don't be a liar."

"I'm not-"

"Both of you stop." Soda interrupts, "Y/n, you're not eating, and we're worried about you. That's not good for you. I'm no genius, but I'm pretty sure eating a healthy amount of food is super important."

You stare at them, unsure of what to say. They know, so you can't deny it, but you don't want to admit it either.

Darry speaks, "This ends now, this not eating thing."

"It's not that easy." You mutter.

"It's a disorder, Darry." Pony chimes in. He glances at you then looks at the ground.

This sucks. You're feel helpless. You feel cornered. You can't get yourself out of this. Its embarrassing having them know, and its worring. Yeah, you need help, but sometimes you dont want it. You hug your arms around yourself as you look at the ground and tears blur your vision.

Darry sighs, walks over, and hugs you. "It's okay, y/n. You're not in trouble. We just want to help you." Soda joins in the hug, "Yeah, y/n." Then Ponyboy joins in too. You can't help but smile a little with your brothers hugging you. You know they love and care about you, and in this hug, you feel safe.

The group hug eventually breaks up. You sniffle and wipe your eyes. Soda looks at you tenderly. "How can we help you?"

an: argh! I hope this is sweet and lives up to your expectations. I didn't want to have the reader give specifics on how the brothers can help them in the fic, because everyone is different and needs different things.

[feroluce]

I've been yapping at a new friend a lot lately about Boothill & Rappa; she described them as "sidekicks in chaos" and! Yes! Finally!Someone else gets it! They're SO cute and so sweet, I adore them. They speak so highly about each other and they have a lot of respect between them! I love them being friends!

With the way Rappa calls him Lord (vs Ninja for everyone else) and how much she openly admires and mimics him, I'd like to think Boothill was the one that showed her the ropes when she was first brought into the Galaxy Rangers. Mentor/mentee and teacher/student are too strong of labels for how I see them, though.

Rappa and Boothill are like a college senior taking the new little freshman under their wing. Or the much older and more experienced coworker trying to look out for the fresh-faced little newbie who's just entering the workforce.

As for how they met and became friends in the first place, I like to imagine it was a case of Boothill's soft heart and being unable to turn a blind eye to things. ☆

Like Boothill wasn't on the mission where the Galaxy Rangers found Rappa, he was off on his own Hunt at the time. But given that the Galaxy Rangers have a leader (La Mancha) and they do seem to have some kind of organized efforts, I wonder if there's any kind of secret hq, or at least certain places where they tend to congregate, like how the Masked Fools have their taverns. Anyway.

Boothill maybe sees Rappa for the first time at one of these hqs (he came back when he heard there'd been a major breakthrough with Dr. Primitive). Or he maybe just happens to run into that Galaxy Ranger from 2.6 that initially found her, who then just. Wasn't really sure what to do with her after the raid. Boothill walks in all these Rangers sitting around like "well now what" because none of them actually expected Rappa to survive the memetic virus. Honestly, her brain should have fried.

Either way, Boothill comes across her by total coincidence. But I think he'd have a lot of sympathy for her because like. Aeragan-Epharshel had been an uncontacted planet before the IPC came around. And since they were there to fuck the place up, they definitely didn't expose the natives to the rest of the cosmos. To say that Boothill "left" the planet is a massive underestimation- he didn't just leave, he escaped. And when he got out, he was completely alone, with very little idea how the rest of the world worked or how to get by.

And right now, Rappa is much the same.

She doesn't know anything beyond the lab she was held captive in all her life. There's no way they would have allowed her to learn that kind of stuff, and I'm sure Kucha wouldn't have told her out of kindness. It would be cruel to taunt her with things she couldn't have.

So someone needs to teach her The Ways of the World! It's just a matter of deciding who.

Boothill: ...What're you morons doing.

The Rangers, in the middle of a very intense rock-paper-scissors tournament:

And Boothill likes these people. He really does! ...Ok, except that one guy. He's kind of a prick. But the rest of them are at least mostly decent! But he wouldn't trust them to keep a pool, let alone a whole human being. If he lets this girl go with any of these dumbasses, there's no way she'll make it. So Boothill smacks them around a bit and announces fine, he'll show the new girl how to be a Galaxy Ranger! If any of them have a problem with this, feel free to make complaints to his revolver ☆

Rappa watches all this go down with stars in her eyes, because Boothill is just like the heroes in her manga! Wow! So cool!

(When it came time to actually leave though, Rappa made some sad eyes at the Ranger from 2.6 that actually found her- for better or worse, she got a little attached. The Ranger told her to go on! Go! Just get out of here!

It's very important to imagine this like a movie where the kid frees the wild animal they bonded with skhzksksjk)

Afterwards, Boothill does actually take Rappa aside and ask if she even wants to be a Ranger. If she doesn't, it's fine. The Galaxy Rangers do a lot of charity work, and everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. They'll find somebody that can help her figure things out and get settled. She can have an actual life now.

Rappa gives a passionate speech (that Boothill catches about 50% of sdlkfjasdl) about how she wants nothing more. She'd wanted it before she even knew the name for it. This was what she'd dreamed of, laying across the bed in Kucha's room, reading through his manga collection for the nth time.

Kucha isn't with her anymore. He'd died just to get her out of there. But she can take the opportunity he gave her and make the most of it. She can still keep her dream alive.

So yes, Rappa wants to be a Ninja Hero. Please teach her!

(Boothill: Bein' a Galaxy Ranger ain't easy shirt. Ya gotta be able to hold yer own in a fight. Can ya even do that?

And then Rappa fucking suplexed him and Boothill was like ok so the first parta bein' a Galaxy Ranger is- JSJJSJDKSK)

They're mentioned together so much outside of the main game, too. So I'd like to think even after Boothill passed on to Rappa all the street smarts he could, they still remained pretty friendly, and make the time and effort to meet up whenever they pass nearby. They just ended up getting along so well!

Like no, they don't see each other very often. They're each on their own separate Hunt. Galaxy Rangers still largely work alone. But they're the kind of buddies that can still happily greet each other the same even after months of not speaking. ♡

(Clutching my heart imagining Boothill telling Rappa she is now a full-fledged Ninja Hero, and she is now strong enough to make her solo journey! But he does give her his phone number. And he tells her that if she's in trouble- like real, real bad trouble- call him. Call him and he'll come runnin', to any corner of the galaxy, ok?)