#my parents have an 11 year age gap so

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! dilf headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation(?), mentions of violence, implicated stalking and stealing, legal age gap, breeding kink 💀, etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! dilf who hired you as his son's tutor. he's just so worried that his darling son won't be able to keep up with school :( as a result you were hired to tutor him :D he actually doesn't know how you look like yet, but guessing from your profile picture you're a granny..?

✎ yandere! dilf who couldn't help but be enamoured with you the second you stepped inside his house. wait why were you so cute? didn't he hire an old- huh?! oh that was a picture of your grandma... oh well, he shouldn't have guessed. how else is he supposed to calm his boner now?

✎ yandere! dilf who's watering at your innocence. oh you're such a sweet thing! bright eyes sparkling with the desire to teach his son! your future son! he's so glad he's divorced... he's dead set on making you his beloved little thing. and you can't do anything to change it~!

✎ yandere! dilf who falls for you more and more with each tuition session. oh you just look so adorable! and that outfit you wore last session! it was so cute! he really had a hard time holding himself back you know? he's imagining tearing apart your outfit while marking you up now-!

✎ yandere! dilf who is older than you. I mean, he literally has a 15 year old son so it would be expected that he's old. but... he's still handsome! so you can consider him... right? oh please give him a chance! he'd hate to have to break you down completely :( yes he's that in love with you to the point where he won't mind breaking you down and rebuilding you to how he wants you to be ♡

✎ yandere! dilf who's extremely flirty and embraces his dilf-ness. rolling up his sleeves to expose his veiny forearms, unbuttoning his top two buttons to expose his defined chest, subtly flirting with you every time he sees you... just two tuition sessions ago he stood so close to you to the point where you could smell his cologne and see his man boobs?! you had to spend that entire tuition session clenching your fists just to focus. oh those sexy man boobs! his cleavage ! why is his body so sexy?! don't worry, if you wanted to touch he'll be more than happy to let you feel him up :)

✎ yandere! dilf who can't stop thinking about bashing in the heads of anyone who's glanced in you. no one should be taking in your divine self except for him and his son. those trash can't worship and love you like he does. hm... maybe he should just kidnap you? keep you all to himself. yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

✎ yandere! dilf who has a little shrine dedicated to you in his study. aw, how cute! it's just a small picture of you and a flower- wait is that your missing underwear? and is that your lost diary?! why's your entire schedule noted down with lots of hearts scribbled on it?! how'd he- there's no way he stalked you... right?

✎ yandere! dilf who gets his son to talk to you about how he's so lonely and wants another parent desperately... you're smart so you'll get what he means, won't you? after all, can you resist those watery eyes and the slight sniffling his son is doing? and he's sure you don't have any other tutees due to how much he's paying you already... so it's alright to be his, no?

✎ yandere! dilf who wants to breed you. it doesn't matter whether or not you can actually have children, he'll still want to breed you. imagining you round and full with his children... it just turns him on oh so much.

✎ yandere! dilf who really wouldn't mind a new addition to his family. I mean, for the past... 11 years it's only been him and his son :( and he finds it so lonely in his big mansion without anyone to accompany him... you understand what he's saying right? don't worry, you'll never have to lift a finger again should you accept his offer. he's rich after all :)

✎ "hn? oh my son did good, huh? should I reward you for being an amazing tutor? I know just how to thank you after all..."

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Two

It's your first day of work at Skywalker Enterprises.

◂ chapter one ▸ chapter three

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: swearing, age-gaps, sexual fantasies

The moms at St. Lucas Preparatory School are shameless. Single, divorced, and married women (and some men) alike can’t help but hold their breath when Anakin Skywalker steps onto campus. The dads are intimidated by him and the moms… well, let’s just say the moms have less than school appropriate thoughts about the billionaire. 

Anakin detests the end of the year. He hates being involved at the school. He doesn’t want to spend 2 hours of his day off packing meals in a crowded gymnasium with other parents who also don’t want to be there. 

He doesn’t want to make small talk or ask about Luke and Leia’s classmates because frankly, he doesn’t give a crap. The only children he likes are his own and he won’t pretend otherwise. 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Leia’s teacher, Ms. Clark sighs, “you are the only parent in my class who has yet to sign up for a slot at this year's Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry Sauce is just the name the school gives the Thanksgiving Drive to make it sound more “fun”. 

Anakin gives his children a kiss on their foreheads and sends them through the school gates. Once they’re out of earshot, he addresses Leia’s teacher. “I already wrote a check to buy the damn food. Isn’t that sufficient?” 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Ms. Clark repeats with annoyance. If it were up to her, she’d let Anakin donate all of the money he wants in order to keep him from volunteering at school events. She thinks he’s arrogant, stuck-up, and far too handsome for any man to be. So she decides to loathe him since she can’t fuck him. But Headmaster Franklin is adamant Anakin attends the event. 

“I really insist that you participate for at least an hour at Cranberry Sauce next weekend. It is important for your children to see you involved at the school. At their school.” 

Anakin’s tall and broad stature seems to grow even larger at this statement. How dare this woman insinuate anything about him as a father? 

“You think I’m not involved in my childrens’ lives?” Anakin has just enough self-control not to completely raise his voice at his daughter’s fourth grade teacher. Especially since parents are continuing to drop off their kids. “You think I’m an absent father who gives the school money to compensate for my lack of paternal instincts?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Ms. Clark answers cautiously. “There is no need to make a scene. I have no doubts you are an excellent father, Mr. Skywalker. I don’t think Leia would be the young lady she is if you weren’t. One hour. That's all we ask.” 

Anakin raises an eyebrow. “We?” 

“Oh, um, well-” Ms. Clark stammers. Busted. She sighs with defeat. “Headmaster Franklin would very much like to see you there.”

“I’m sure he would,” Anakin replies smugly. Headmaster Franklin wants him there for publicity. Anakin should be more pissed about that than being accused of not being a present parent, but he’s not. He likes his ego stroked every now and then. “One hour.” 

“Thank you,” Ms. Clark smiles tightly. “Does 10-11 work for you?” 

“Fine,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively as he gets a message on his phone. 

Ben Kenobi 

Your new secretary is here. 

Shit. It’s Anakin’s first day without Dorothy. No wonder the morning has gone the way it has. Between Luke spilling orange juice on his shirt, Leia’s uncooperating French braids, and his conversation with Ms. Clark, Anakin can’t help but fear the change in routine with a new assistant. He types his response. 

Anakin Skywalker

Assistant. Not secretary. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 

Ben Kenobi 

If you say so. 

Ben Kenobi is Anakin’s closest friend. Some might even call them brothers. Ben is fifteen years older than Anakin, married to the mayor, and enjoys fly fishing on the weekends. He’s also Luke and Leia’s godfather. Should anything happen to Anakin, there is no one else he’d trust to raise and watch over his children than Ben Kenobi. 

And Ben knows better than anyone that Anakin doesn’t like change. He’s been dreading Dorothy’s last day since she told him she was retiring a year ago. How was he going to find someone as good as her? Someone who anticipates his needs before he does? 

That’s why he tasked her with finding her own replacement. He’s just too busy to interview a replacement for Dorothy himself. He wouldn’t know what to look for, anyway. If he doesn’t know what he wants in a woman to date, how is he supposed to know what he wants in a new assistant? 

.

.

. 

“Mr. Skywalker is not in at the moment. Can I take a message?” You’ve uttered that exact sentence at least seven times since you arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. Now, as it nears 9:00, you expect to see your new boss very soon. 

Each time you hear the elevator ding, you look up with hopefulness at the arrival of the esteemed Anakin Skywalker. What will you say to him? How will you introduce yourself? Will he be nice and welcoming? God, you hope so. You’ve read just about every article, watched every interview, and listened to every podcast he’s done to prepare yourself for the job. The consensus is the same in all of them. 

Anakin Skywalker is generous, he’s polite, and generally gets along with everyone— if you don’t get on his nerves. And, according to Dorothy, he’s a charmer. 

“Yes, absolutely,” you say while taking notes of the message on a legal pad. Your head is down so you don’t notice Anakin walking out of the elevator. He stops 5 steps away from your desk. His ribs feel like they’re collapsing around his lungs because of that voice. Why does he know that voice? 

“I will let Mr. Skywalker know you called as soon as he gets into the office.” You hang up the phone and as you look up, there he is in all of his gorgeous glory. 

You actually have to tell yourself to take a breath because he’s even more handsome in person. Faint lines around his eyes represent years of life he lived before you were born. His dark blonde hair is combed back effortlessly and is it wrong that you want to run your hands through it? Yeah, probably. He’s your boss and over twenty years older than you. 

“It’s-” Anakin can’t even say more than that because holy fuck. Is he dreaming? He squeezes his eyes and then opens them, only to see you now standing with your hand extended to him. “It’s… you.” 

“Um, yes,” you say while awkwardly returning your arm to your side. “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skywalker.” 

“I- um, yes,” Anakin clears his throat. Christ, that wasn’t even a sentence. “I need to take care of something,” he says on his way towards his office. “I am not to be disturbed until I come out. Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, sir,” you barely answer before Anakin’s office door is shut violently. Well, that certainly wasn’t the introduction you were expecting or hoping for. You’re starting to think not meeting him beforehand was a bad idea. It honestly should’ve been a red flag but Dorothy insisted it was fine. 

It doesn’t seem fine. 

And things definitely aren’t fine. For Anakin, that is. To say he’s freaking out is putting it lightly. He paces the length of his office, shoving his fingers through his hair and muttering to himself. “It can’t be. There’s no way it can be her.” 

Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he’s having an incredibly vivid dream where his favorite OnlyFans performer, who he has known as HoneySuckle for the last three years is his new assistant. What did you say your name is? Anakin couldn’t hear you over the erection that was forming in his pants because he knows your voice. He’s cum from your voice alone. He’s cum because of you so, so many times. 

This can’t be happening. 

He’s never seen your entire face but he knows it’s you. He’d recognize your lips in a police lineup. He hears your voice in his wet dreams. He just knows it’s you. 

And the fact that he has a hard-on is a problem. A problem he wishes you could take care of but you can’t because now you work for him and he’s your boss. This is all so, so wrong. 

Anakin doesn’t so much sit on his leather chair as he does collapse into it. This was never supposed to happen. Yes, he has dreamed about meeting you on more than one occasion. He’s thought about telling you who he is during your countless direct messages so many times. He’s thought about using his infinite resources to find out who you really are on more than one occasion.

But he always concluded that it would be so insanely wrong and borderline creepy if he did that. You were always supposed to remain a fantasy. Just a nameless woman on a screen who doesn’t live in the same country, state, or city as him. 

Yet here you are— sitting outside of his office, taking his calls, calling him Mr. Skywalker and being even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

You are no longer the woman on his tablet spewing filthy words as you make yourself orgasm. You’re tangible. You have a name- although he can’t remember what it is. He replays the interaction over in his head. The feeling he felt when he saw you was reminiscent of seeing his wife walk down the aisle at their wedding. He was a blundering mess then, just as he is a blundering mess now. 

He doesn’t even want to think about your first impression of him. He’s supposed to be Anakin Skywalker for crying out loud! The suave, handsome millionaire who has the ability to make men cower and women fall to their knees. The embarrassment he feels from that interaction is enough to subdue his hard-on. He pours himself a bit of Bourbon, shoots it back like it’s a normal thing to do at 9 in the morning, and prepares to reintroduce himself to you. 

Anakin smooths his hands down his slacks before opening his door. As his eyes are magnetized to you, his heart starts beating irregularly. Get a fucking grip. 

You stand attentively when you notice Anakin walking towards you. Worried you made a terrible impression on him, you wait to speak. But Anakin doesn’t say anything either and now he’s standing in front of your desk, all tall and lean and smelling like Cedar and Whiskey. He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read. Did Dorothy tell him anything about you? Or did he go into this just as blind as you did? 

His eyes seem to dance all over your body which makes you feel like he’s studying you. Or criticizing every single thing about your appearance. From your simple burgundy dress to the pearl studs you bought with some of Skyguy81’s most recent (and overly generous) tip. 

Finally, because his gaze on you was becoming too much to bear, you are the one to talk first. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Skywalker?” 

Yeah, you can remind him of your name for starters. “Do you have messages for me?” is what he asks instead. 

“Yes,” you answer, picking up the pad you’ve been scribbling notes on for the last hour. “Rex sent over the final schematics for the 0525 project that needs your approval by 3 p.m. today in order to begin production. Mayor Kryze’s office called about the upcoming Gala in December and wanted to know if you would be in attendance. And if so, how many tickets should they reserve? Oh, and someone from St. Lucas Preparatory School called to let you know that your son ripped his pants and needs a new pair brought to school because they don’t have any new pants in his size.” 

Anakin taps his index finger on your desk while he listens to you. He barely registers anything you say because it’s really hard to hear your voice without getting aroused. It’s hard even looking at you without automatically picturing you naked. There’s not an inch of your skin he’s never seen. Well, except for the top half of your face which now, of course, he has seen. And God, does he love what you have to offer. 

You’re still relaying messages but suddenly you’re bent over your desk, gripping the edge of it with pale knuckles as Anakin slams into you over, and over, and over. He’s making you yelp his name so loudly the whole building can hear you. 

“Mr. Skywalker?” 

Anakin snaps back into reality where you’re still fully clothed and definitely not moaning his name. “What?” comes out a little harsher than he intended. And he immediately regrets it when he sees you visibly shrink right before him. 

“What- what would you like me to tell the Mayor’s office?” 

Anakin has gone as a bachelor to the last two Christmas Galas. Ben stays close to Satine the whole night and he really doesn’t see the point in asking a woman he has no interest in to be his date. Plus, going alone lets him leave the party with whomever he wants or to call it a night and go home early to watch ELF and drink peppermint cocoa with his kids. 

“Have them put me down for 2.” 

You nod whilst making another note on the pad. “And what about your son’s pants?” 

“Did they say where he ripped them?” 

“Right down the middle,” you answer. 

Anakin shakes his head. “Oh, Luke,” he mutters to himself. “Alright, I’ll go home and get him a new pair.” 

“Icandoit,” rushes out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“Sorry, my mouth moved faster than my brain,” you reply, hoping Anakin will find it endearing instead of annoying. “I said I can do it. I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?” 

Anakin opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Yes, technically it’s your job to do this sort of errand. But Anakin doesn’t want you going to his house alone, sifting through his son’s drawers, and bringing him new pants to his school. 

Primarily because he’d much rather you be in his home under different circumstances. 

“We’ll go together,” Anakin decides against his better judgment. “I’ll drive.”

.

.

.

So, Anakin definitely didn’t think things through when he said he’d drive. 

In what world did he think sharing a close, confined space with you was a good idea? This whole morning has been a cluster-fuck. Honestly. He’s still struggling to wrap his head around who you are. When you announced Squirting for Sky was going to be your last video, he thought what a devastation it would be to not look forward to your videos every week. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one replacing his dear old assistant the very next week? The odds of it all are overwhelming. 

But isn’t this what he’s always wanted? The opportunity to meet you? To know your name and know you personally? Every wish of his has been granted— except for the fact that he is your boss and you are technically his subordinate. He says technically because Dorothy always felt more like family than an employee. 

You could be family. 

You could be so much more than his assistant.

Oh, Jesus Christ, Anakin. Be reasonable. She’s your employee. She’s practically a kid. 

Anakin looks over to you for the first time since getting in the car. You’re pressed against the side of the passenger door, knees angled away from him and arms crossed over your chest. “Are you cold?” 

“Oh,” you say, looking at him with a tentative smile. “A little.” 

“You should’ve said so,” Anakin turns on the heater and your seat warmer. “My kids call seat warmers butt toasters. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty.” 

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

There’s an awkward pause as Anakin realizes what he just said. He absolutely cannot think about your butt any longer than he has to because we all know how that will end.

 (A hard cock, in case that wasn’t clear). 

 “I mean, uh- shit,” Anakin briefly closes his eyes to compose himself. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty? 

“Just turn it off yourself if you get too warm.” 

Do you make him nervous? No way. You decide to let it go. “Kids? Plural?” 

“Yeah.” Anakin drapes his right arm over the center console and taps his fingers against the gear shift. Long, dexterous fingers at that. You have to look away before you start thinking about something completely inappropriate of your boss. “I have twins. A boy and a girl. Luke, he’s the silly one. Right now he’s big into archeology. He’s also pretty clumsy, hence the rip in his pants. And Leia, my daughter, she’s far too serious for any 9 year old to be. She says she wants to be a senator when she grows up.” 

This is the longest you’ve been able to look at Anakin without feeling your cheeks burning. Now, they’re just hot because of the heater blasting in your face. “You light up when you talk about them,” you say. “You must love them a lot.” 

“More than anything,” Anakin doesn’t hesitate. “Here we are.” 

You should’ve been paying attention on how to get to his house from the office. Surely, you’ll be running these errands on your own if things go well with your employment. Oh, well. That’s what the Maps is for. 

Anakin’s house is a stunning Eichler. It looks straight out of an Architectural Digest cover. The lawn outside is perfectly cropped and perfectly green but littered with a soccer ball, football, a baseball bat and whiffle balls. You wouldn’t have pegged Anakin for a mid-century modern kind of guy. You would’ve thought he’d opt for an insanely modern, sterile house. 

As you walk through the atrium and into the main body of the house, it’s clear it is a family home. Anakin uses his foot to sweep his kids’ shoes out of the way so you don’t trip over them. “Sorry about the mess.” 

“It’s okay,” you shrug. Anakin’s house isn’t even all that messy. It just looks like a home. There are so many pictures on the walls, it would be impossible to look at all of them in one go. One in particular, though, catches your eye. It’s the largest out of all of them and the only one in black and white. A significantly younger Anakin is at the bedside of who you presume to be his wife with two bundles of babies in their arms. They are both looking down and smiling. His wife was stunning. They definitely made an attractive couple. 

It’s not lost on you that there are no other pictures of Anakin’s kids with their mom. He’s only spoken about his wife’s death in one interview, about a year after her passing. If you remember correctly, she died shortly after the twins were born. 

You can’t imagine the kind of pain and heartache Anakin must have felt losing his wife. You don’t know what it feels like to experience that kind of grief. You want to tell Anakin you’re sorry for his loss, but what good will that do? Is there any consolation in that at all? 

You’re still looking at the photo when Anakin returns from Luke’s room with a new pair of tan pants. You can feel his presence right beside you and the silence is louder than words. 

He shouldn’t have brought you back here. It’s only your first day and you’ve already seen too much of his life. 

“Let’s go,” Anakin orders. You nod without a word and follow him out to the car. 

The tension in the air is palpable on your way to St. Lucas Prep. You feel like you’ve done something wrong by simply stepping foot in Anakin’s house. His whole demeanor shifted when he came back to the front room with Luke’s pants. Does he regret bringing you to the house? If so, why? Dorothy clearly laid out your responsibilities to you. Tending to personal matters at Anakin’s house is part of the job. You are not just a professional assistant, but a personal assistant, too.

You can’t stand not knowing why someone is upset with you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Anakin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “No.” 

Wow, how reassuring. “Okay, then why do I feel like I did something to upset you?” 

You’re really pressing your limit with him right now. You’ve only just met 2 hours ago. See, this is why meeting him should’ve been part of the hiring process. You’d be a lot more acquainted with each other than you are right now. 

If only you knew how acquainted Anakin is with you… 

“You didn’t,” is all he says. But with a twitch of his jaw, you still feel like he’s not telling you the truth. 

“Look, Mr. Skywalker,” you begin. “I understand Dorothy meant a great deal to you, and her leaving is going to be an adjustment. But I promise you I am capable of this job. I’m never late, I’m up late all the time so if there was anything you needed, I’d be able to fulfill it. I love kids, I’m a hard worker and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance before making any decisions about me.” 

“You’re right,” Anakin says. “I’ll give you a chance.”  But he’s already made up his mind. He doesn’t have to ‘give you a chance’ to know that he wants you. He is crawling out of his skin with how badly he wants you. And he knows it’s wrong, probably immoral, but he really doesn’t care. Because now that you’ve been inside of his home, the boundary that should exist between him as your boss and you as his employee feels impossibly blurry.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter three

[witchxxjpg]

lestappen hogwarts au dedicated to my harry potter marathon (1k words)

+ seeker Charles and chaser Max (definitely not dating you know👀)

(i know that the age gaps are incorrect and that 11 years-old Max never raced international but for the sake of this au i change these things))

******

Max sat in his compartment alone.

When he looked outside all he could see was children and their parents running around Platform 3/4 with huge trolleys filled with bags and suitcases. But Max himself had only a mediocre case with shabby textbooks and some clothes to wear during his first school year.

Honestly speaking, he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to stand out, even though he was well aware that he wasn't quite like all the others.

When he passed by the other compartments, all the children were chatting and, Max guessed, they were just happy to see or meet each other, while some of the older students were discussing their summer breaks.

Max didn't know anyone here. He didn't even have anyone to say goodbye to.

His mother was too busy in Belgium to fly just for him to London. And his father was still furious at him for the decision to take a year off karting to study in this school for wizards. He had just dropped him off three hour ago near King's Cross Station and left without any goodbye.

Standing on the platform, Max'd thought about what to do.

After a failure of trying to ask an officer about platform 3/4 that was written on his boarding ticket Max'd sat on a nearby bench, hopping that soon he'd see someone who looked like a wizard.

And he was lucky enough that after only an hour of waiting he saw a girl, pulling a trolley of suitcases and a cage with a huge brown owl.

When Max had visited Diagon Alley last week with a big disheveled guy named Hagrid to buy all the necessary equipment for his first year, he'd been told that he's allowed to have a pet like a cat or an owl in Hogwarts. But his father didn't even want to give him money to purchase a wand, so Max knew better than to ask for an animal, even though he really wanted to have a cat.

He got into the train well earlier than all the other students, because almost all sofas were empty. He took one of the farthest compartments and put his case on the bench near him. He was too short to throw it on the top shelf and he didn't know any lifting charms. Then started looking at other wizards.

After an hour of observing the almost empty platform, Max finally started seeing more people.

They were all different: some of them wearing usual clothes, that Max's seen people in, while some others were in ridiculous outfits that he decided was sort of wizard style.

But there were a lot of children, of course. Most of them were in the same usual clothes. However, Max was relieved to see that others wore black robes that Max himself was dressed it.

Later he noticed that some of the robes of other students were with colorful elements, unlike his own that was fully grey.

The departure time of the Hogwarts Express was close, so Max sat there and waited, listening to dulled noises on the platform.

Until the door of his compartment was wide open.

"Hey, sorry, all the others are full," said a young boy, who looked around Max's age. "Do you mind if we sit with you?"

Max didn't mind at all, so he shaked his head and offered the seats.

Behind the boy who asked were two older guys who entered the room.

"Need help with your luggage?" asked one of them, pointing at Max's miserable suitcase, and Max, nodding, pointed out in his head that they're not from England, judging from the accent of these two of them.

While he put Max's case on the top shelf, the other one asked, seeing his stiffness, "First time, right?"

Max smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"Don't worry, we don't bite," cheered up the guy who helped with the luggage, chuckling.

"But Charlie can, though!" said the other, ruffling the hair of the younger boy who entered first and laughing.

Max assumed that they were all brothers, considering how well they knew each other.

The younger boy, Charlie, looked scandalous, "Hey, it only happened once!" pointing at the guy who accused him. "And you totally deserved that!"

"Okay," chuckled again the older guy. "We'll go buy us some food".

"Yeah, let the kids bond together," said the other when they exited the compartment, still giggling.

As soon as they left the younger guy jumped on the seat, opposite Max, with a huge smile and stretched out his right hand, "Hello, I'm Charles".

Shaking Charles' hand, Max mumbled, "I'm Max".

"Oh, by the way, that were Jules and Lorenzo," said Charles, pointing at the direction where the older boys had left. "They can be very annoying, I know. But still cool".

Max hesitated, "Are they your brothers?"

"Lo is," Charles smiled. "Jules is my godfather, but he's more like a brother. Do you have siblings?"

With that question Max realized that he actually missed Vic. He last saw her two months ago, while video chatting with their mother. He hoped he'd be able to go visit them on winter holidays.

"Yes, I have a sister," Max mentioned. "But she lives with my mother, and I live with my father".

He saw that Charles liked talking. "Oh, are you parents wizards?"

"No, they are both -" Max remembered that Hagrid had called them somehow, people who can't do magic. But he didn't remember. "Well, you know, not wizards".

"Muggles?" helped Charles. "That's so cool! Mine are from Monaco. Both wizards, but it's a boring story".

That explained the accent, even though Max'd thought they were French.

Max thought if he could share more about himself, "Oh, I raced in Monaco once", he said before realizing that maybe wizards didn't even know what karting was.

Until he saw how Charles' eyes went comically wide.

"Really?!" he jumped off the seat opposite Max and sat right near him. "You do karting? I also do karting. Not like anything professional but we do it every holiday".

Time passed and Max didn't even realize that. Soon returned Lorenzo and Jules with their hands full of sweets and chocolatebars. That's when Max tried his first chocolate frog and got his first card.

Then when Charles was very emotional to discuss Max's karting championships with his brothers, deep red Max was awkward to hear all this excitement (he'd never admit that he liked it). And he didn't know what to say when the older guys invited him to Monaco for winter holidays to show off the skills.

During boat trip to Hogwars Max listened to Charles speaking about four houses and how he was sure he would be in Gryffindor, because all his family was Gryffindor. Max decided that he also wanted to be brave and be in Gryffindor.

Of course, they didn't get to the same house, none of them didn't even get to the house that they'd wanted, but it wouldn't stop them from becoming best friends and probably something more.

But that's a story for later.

Now Max was just excited for his first year in the magic world.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Arranged Marriage — Hiromi Higuruma

series masterlist

cw: smut | 18+

Three Months Married

You had been married now for 3 months, and in all of those 3 three months, you and Hiromi have spent exactly 2 days together.

One of them being, your wedding day, and the day after your wedding- where you two moved into the condo he bought for the both of you. I mean the whole marriage itself was not one you were really expecting, neither did he. But both of your parent’s thought that this would be best, since you came from low income, and he was a workaholic, and needed to settle down since he was now 36 years old, and had no romantic experience except from when he was in college. While you on the other hand... are 25, and never have done anything but work multiple jobs to help your family, and go to college to become a literature professor. But now, as you are sitting on the comfortable leather couch that you sink deep into, you start to ponder on what you both are doing in this marriage, are you both going to continue living separate lives? Or give this marriage a shot?

You hear the keys jiggle, you perk up, seeing your disheveled husband walk in, tie loosened, and him immediately kicking off his shoes.

“Hey.” He barely leans up to address you. “Hey.” You smile softly. This was the first time you’d seen him in 3 days. “How’d the trial go?” You questioned, trying to peek into his brain. “It’s finally over, and I won.” He bluntly said with a sigh. “Well that’s great then. I made dinner, feel free to shower and we can eat together maybe?” You almost question. He looks at you with his big brown eyes— “Yeah, that sounds nice.” He smiles, as he walks to the bathroom to freshen up. 

You felt your hands tremble in nervousness, bundling yourself under the blankets some more. You feel the cat that he got for you shortly after moving in, hop on your lap purring. “Hi sweet boy.” You coo at the kitten. You twiddled with the kittens paws as you waited for Hiromi, hoping he would give you any ounce of attention. You hear footsteps, peeking at the 6'3 man walking down the hall, staring at his freshly washed hair, that was still damp, slicked back.

“I’ll go grab the food—“ You say as you are about to get up. “I got it, you made dinner, I can grab it.” He reassured you. He came back with two bowls, and chipsticks. “This smells really good.” He says, now his voice is calm, and relaxed. “I apologize for being gone so long, this case was quite the shit show, it just so happened to be going on when we were getting married.” He sighed, he did a lot of that— sighing.

“It’s okay, I’ve been busy with school too.” You smiled at him, then taking a bite of food. He nodded, as he continued to eat. You felt your hands stiffen, then placing the chop sticks in your bowl, you look over at him. “I would like to get to know you Hiromi.” You said in a soft yet loud enough for him to hear tone. He looked at you, his mouth pressing into a thin line, he looked back down at his food, taking another bite, then setting it down.

“You don’t have to stop eating.” You reassure. Nodding at you, he finished up his dinner silently, trying to process this whole thing. He had spent 36 years on his own, and now he has this 11 year age gap wife, that he is now responsible for. “How is school?” He questions between bites. “It’s going well actually, I am currently working on my Dissertation.” — “How is that going?” — “Well, I mean… I guess it’s okay, I’m just a little… uninspired.” You chuckled. “Make’s sense, there has been a lot going on.” He acknowledged. He set his bowl down on the coffee table in front of him. 

“I’m Hiromi.” He said plainly, extending his hand for a shake. You chuckle, shaking his hand, and introducing yourself to him. “What do you like to do Hiromi?” You say as you are still bundled under the blankets, but now turned towards him. You saw the way his wheels turned in his brain. “You go first.” He chuckled, something you didn’t see often. “I enjoy reading, well recreational reading, not when it involves work. I also love to garden, bake, and I enjoy attending art galleries.” You respond. His ear’s almost perked up like a dog. “I do enjoy art galleries as well, just don’t have time anymore. Reading is enjoyable as well, when it… doesn’t involve life or death. I like going to breweries and wine tasting events.” He leaned into the L part of the couch, getting more comfortable. He was wearing a grey t shirt, with some flannel sleep pants. “I’ve never drank alcohol before.” You said, making him look at you wildly. “Are you serious?” He practically gasped. “Ha, no I really haven’t. We didn’t have money for stuff like that.” You wave your hand in a jokingly defense. “Make’s sense. Well… We— could go tomorrow.” Hiromi scratches his head, trying to look away from you. “Sure. How long are you off?” — “I took the next 3 months off, I have more than enough personal time off, and this case cut me more money than I expected, so I will be good for a while.” — “I am on summer break.” You smiled. “Well it looks like we got a lot of time then don’t we?” He smiled back.

Maybe things will work out right?

“What the hell, this is so good.” You say as you take a sip of your first beer. “Told you!” He laughed, as he sipped his. “Here try mine.” He handed you the glass. Taking a sip, you make a sour face— “That one taste weird.” You chuckle. “This one isn’t to sweet like yours, a little more woodsy.” He chuckled, as he sipped your beer. “Your’s is good though, I might have to get us a couple of bottles to take home.” 

You both walked around this town square that had bars, breweries, wineries, and different places to eat. You felt your stomach rumble and growl, you hadn't realized that all you had this morning was toast, and a coffee.

“A cheese burger sounds great right now.” You say as you feel the alcohol flow through your veins. “That does sound good.” Hiromi hums in agreement. You two eventually find a place, and order food. “How did you like those beers?” He questioned, looking at your glossy eyes. “They were really good!” You exclaimed, you felt so loose, and your body felt so fresh. “I’m glad you liked it, we definitely will have to build your tolerance.” He chuckled as he leaned over and pinched your nose. 

“Hey!” You giggled, waving his hand away. “You’re the one with the honker, not me!” You leaned over, squeezing his nose. He chuckled— “you’re not wrong about that, you got a cute little nose.” He said as he leaned back, when the server came to drop off the food. You blushed, as he looked away from you. 

You both spent the day trying new foods, wines, beers, and just exploring the city, while exploring each other.

“You’re actually really funny Hiromi.” You laughed, as he was telling some dad joke. “The dad jokes are actually top tier, you’ll make a great dad one day.” You chuckled, not realizing the words that just slipped from your lips. I mean neither one of you knew much about each other, so having kids was a ways away, he stiffened up, his carefree attitude coming to a halt. A Kid? He thinks to himself. Kids? Does she want kids? Do I want kids? He began to overthink, feeling his blood run cold. “Hiromi?” You question, as your giggling stopped, not realizing what you just said. “Yeah?” He responds back, now coming off distant. “What’s wrong?” You question, turning towards him. “I think I’m a bit tired, let’s get going.” He says as he grabs his phone and request a car to pick you 2 up. You looked at him in confusion, as you replayed both of your conversations, then it hitting you. “Hiromi—“ You go to grab his arm. “Hey, let’s just… Let’s just let it go?” He smiled, as he walked to the sidewalk, waiting for the car. You felt your heart ache, and your hands start to tremble again, you wanted to cry, you felt the tears pooling in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry in front of him. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself, but once you 2 got in the elevator, you felt the tears start to drip down. Hiromi was looking down at his feet, when he saw the little tears hit the floor, he looked up to see if there was a leak on the ceiling, but then looking at you, seeing you wiping your swollen green eyes. 

“Hey hey hey.” He instantly was on one knee, wiping your tears from your eyes. “Don’t cry, I’m sorry.” He said with the most concerned loving tone, and expression. “I-I d-didn’t mean t-t-to ruin o-our day.” You wept as his hands were caressing your cheeks. “You didn’t ruin my day at all, hey… it’s okay… It just threw me off that’s all.” He tried to reassure, but you kept crying, feeling your legs give out, he scooped you up, holding you bridal style, as you dug your head into his chest, and cried. “Shhh— it’s okay baby.” He cooed as he wiped your tears. That was a first— baby…

He brought you into both of your home, and laid you on the couch, then lying beside you, pushing your head into his chest. You felt yourself calm down, and your breathing was slowing down, as you took in his natural musk, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. “I know we don’t know each other, but I enjoy being around you… I want this marriage to work— I will work hard to be a good wife.” You sniffled. 

“I will work on being a good husband as well, for you.” He said as your curls were swelling his sense of smell. He loved the way you smelt, the way you looked, the way you smiled, the way you laughed, everything really… He tells himself that, that was the reason why he didn’t refuse his parents when they married him off to you, and dumping the responsibility of a broke girl and her family to him. Just to be able to be around you, and watching you sway your hips as you cleaned the kitchen, or cooking, was worth any burden he would have been put in, and he wouldn’t even look at it as a burden, even if it was. 

I hope you guys enjoy this story, I am obsessed with Hiromi, and realized we need more Hiromi stories! xoxo

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire Masterlist

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Years after the world fell apart, various communities have established themselves, one of which is ran by four men who claim to be divine.

When they decide it's time to and heir to be born, they chose a virgin from their cult and make her their wife. Reader is offered a choice, of course. She doesn't have to marry them. But if she doesn't, the savior won't be born. She choses to become the Madonna. She is wed to all four of them, and moved into their home where her body is open to use whenever her husbands desire (free use au), in the hopes of getting her pregnant. It doesn't matter whose baby it ends up being, because they are all part God, so it doesn't matter... right?

Warnings for full fic, if anything is added or really emphcized it will be in additional warnings.

THIS IS A DARK FIC THOUGH SO BE WARY! I CAN'T PROTECT AGAINST EVERYTHING.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Unknown amount of chapters right now.

Chapter 1: Pilot: Delta finds their Madonna Chapter 2: The wedding Chapter 3: Aftermath of the wedding FishBen: Symptom of Being Human Chapter 4: Pope is not pleased. Chapter 5: Jonah lore, Madonna gets through to Frankie Chapter 6: Madonna gains Frankie's heart, Santi is jealous Iris: Rey and Iris find pockets of time Chapter 7: Fun with Ben: wining Pope back Chapter 8: big announcement to the community

Non canon Frankie Madonna Chapter 9: Madonna’s blissful ignorance to the world around her. Chapter 10: There's a lot Madonna doesn't know.

Chapter 11: Things start to crumble around Madonna

Chapter 12: It's all too much for Madonna

Chapter 1 3: Santiago’s true colors come out

Chapter 14: Jonah tries to show the truth

Chapter 15: madonna begins to learn her power

Chapter 16: Frankie and Ben reflect

Chapter 17: Ben shows his true colors

Chapter 18: Iris makes her stand

Chapter 19: Jonah's chapter

Chapter 20: Frankie finally does something.

Chapter 21: ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Bonus Content

not necessary for the series. Pieces in the main list are suggested as they add depth and sometimes small plot points.

"Can you peel my orange?" Jonah smut

Jonah Hanson character ai

ROF characters Star signs

Jonah x non-Madonna reader x Marcus flashback commission

Art

By @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

By @survivingandenduring

Lil comic by @my-secret-shame

As I said, a lot of themes and dynamics ended up accidentally similarly to Watch Your Step by the amazing @charnelhouse Some was because that fic is what developed my characterizations of the boys. Some was totally incidental, like Pope and readers relation to art. It's different though, a much different series, but I wanted to tell y'all that she s PUBLISHING WYS AS A NOVEL NOW, Its called Cardinal Sin's and I'll link it right here!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

THANK YOU FOR YOU'RE SUPPORT!

Please remember to reblog, and I love comments/asks, anon or not, and would love to see engagement and theories!

[deadly-kalopsia]

writing out my understanding of the batfam ages because i’m bored

i’m basing literally all of this starting around their ages based on tim because that’s literally the only ones i know for sure and it’s easier this way

when tim is first introduced, he’s 13 (for some reason i always think he’s 12 but no, he’s 13) we know that tim was at the circus when dicks parents died when dick was 8. tim was stated to be 3 at the time of the flying graysons death) (i’m aware that in one comic it claims that he was like 7 but that makes literally no fucking sense so i’m ignoring it)

this means that when tim is 3, dick is 8, making dick 5 years older than tim making, meaning that when tim becomes robin dick is 18….which doesn’t really make sense. so let’s loop back to this later.

jason dies when hes 15, around 6 months later, tim introduces himself and has his first technical debut as robin at 13, making their age difference around 2 years. tim is born in july, and jason is born in august, it’s safe to say that their age gap is 2 years and a few months. jason is introduced at age 12 right after dick leaves/gets fired as robin at around age 18/19, making him around 6 years older than jason.

so at this point we have

tim-13 (stated age at first introduction.)

jason- 15/16 (depending on when he dies)

dick- 21/22 (relative to jason, not tim)

back to tim being at the circus at the night of the flying graysons death, if tim is 3, then with dicks age relative to jason, dick would have had to been around 12 at the age of their death, NOT the 8 that was previously stated. this would make dick and tim’s age gap around 9 years. personally, while this messes up the ages stated in the canon i’m referring to, this is probably the best age that i can come up with and still have tim be at the circus and be around toddler age (old enough to remember what happened because of the trauma of it)

bruce is stated to be somewhere between 12-15 years older than dick, meaning that he’s somewhere between 21-24 years older than tim. this means he was around 24-27 when he fosters dick. (personally i meld this to whatever fits what im trying to talk about)

cassandra is assumed to be jason’s age, so we’ll call her also 2 years and some months/3 years older than tim.

when damian is introduced at 9/10 and at the time tim is 16 making their age difference 6-7 years. this is constantly changing due to dcs lack of letting tim age but still aging damian up (damian is 14 right now and as far as i know tim is still 17.)

unfortunately i don’t know very much about duke (which is an absolute tragedy that i will be remedying asap) but im pretty sure he’s 4 years older than damian, making him 2-3 years younger than tim.

alfred is ageless and i don’t care what you say dc, that man is alive.

so for my age differences relative to tim in what im gathering as my current canon (very very loose) we have:

alfred: ageless. (probably around early-mid 70s?)

bruce: 38-42

dick: 26

cass: 19/20

jason: 19/20

tim: 17

duke: 14/15

damian: 10/11

that’s all we have for bruce’s canonically adopted/fostered children (THAT I KNOW OF PLEASE DONT KILL ME)

a couple others that i didn’t include but know, stephanie is a year older than tim, making her 18 to tim’s 17, and like wise, babs is a year older than dick, making her 27 to dicks 26.

i think my math maths but please let me know if it doesn’t, i did it in my head and have not slept.

[animentality]

I knew this girl when I was a kid. she was 13 when i was 11.

we used to talk about this guy she was secretly seeing because her parents didn't approve of him. and at the time, I thought wow that's so unfair. her parents are kinda mean, why can't they let her date who she wants?

but as an adult, looking back at that shit...

dude was fucking 21.

and she was 13.

i have no idea if that guy ever got in trouble but I feel guilty sometimes looking back at it, because I didn't think it was bad at the time, and I didn't speak up.

my parents had a gap of 8 years. I didn't comprehend that the difference in age from 13 and 21 is not only illegal, but also very very different from a 21 year old dating a 29 year old.

hope she's doing alright, and hope he's having an awful time in this economy. maybe choking on the brimstone scent of hell.

[blueberry0409]

DRAGONROSE INTRO +HCS+ TIMELINE

ok so somehow i am now the supreme general in the fight for Dragonrose/ The Creature Feature Years

This is a intro post and all the fun stuff is always tagged in this blog under "felix x charlie" and "felix rosier" and "the creature feature" my asks are also always open

ok so first

basics (from hogwarts legacy) (pls correct me if im wrong)

canon info

we know that Felix Rosier was Evan Rosier'syounger brother

he became a dragonologist and loved dragons in school.

he was smart. talented in charms, potions, herbology and care of magical creatures

he was invited to the Three Broomsticks by Bill Weasley.

born 1969

Slytherin

Fanon

he is besties with Charlie and Tonks they are known as the creature feature by they wrecked havoc.

They are friends with hagrid <3

Felix was much younger than the twins so he was the ultimate annoying sibling when he was little and the twins were at Hogwarts

He loved barty and reg and would follow the skittles around when they came over

His parents died (DE dad) died when he was young so he was raised by his grandmother

------

So in order to solve the age gap problem (hc from the lovely @lirenthenonlyrist )

1969- Felix Born

(1980) lets say) During the First War - Felix get obliviated by DE's.

-- Same time as Evan's death (did not get time to process)---

(1980-1984)- He gets sent to a muggle school/hospital where the help students with disabilities. He goes there from 11-14 and Felix is happy he has friends, and life’s good even if he can’t remember most of it.

(1984) He gets his memory back.

(1984)-He remembers everything, his brothers death, the war, gets his memories removed. TRAUMA. He has to go to Hogwarts.

-------

(1984/1985)

Goes to Hogwarts becomes friends with Charlie because of their shared love of dragons, Tonks comes sees these two oddballs and says THEIR MINE NOW.

Charlie and Tonks help him with the trauma.

Charlie and Felix bond over not wanting to always be compared o their siblings.

Felix reaches out to Pandora.

(1995-1997)

Happiness.

Felix vists the Weasley's they love the excitable dragon boy that Charlie brought home. (percy clocks them)

Shenanigans

(1987)

Fourth Year Ball GASP feelings

The boys ignore their connection that goes deeper than friendship

Tonks wants to get them together, they are oblivious.

Happiness.

(1990)

Sixth Year

Pandora dies

Felix goes into deep despression and has a breakdown in the field after pandoras death (during winter break in sixth year) between the Weasley and Lovegood home while holding Luna

He wont let go of Luna and Xeno is suffering too

Sings Luna the Rosier family lullabies - cries.

Ms. Weasley saw him in the cold crying and brought him inside for hot cocoa and a blanket and told him stories about pandora.

he reminds her of her brothers fabion and gideon

A few days later she gave him a matching blue Weasley sweater with luna. it had a matching dragon with charlie :)

It starts the tradition of Felix and Charlie’s matching sweaters having little dragons on them.

Charlie and Felix realize they love each other and start dating.

tonks is so relived.

(1991)

They graduate

Charlie and Felix go to Romania for the Dragonoligist Institute

Tonks goes to Auror Academy.

Happiness.

Bonus May 1992:

Charlie and Felix and Tonks were the ones that came and rescued Norbert Charlie recruited Felix for the dragon emergency after Ron's letter. and he ofc went along with his equally crazy bf.

They rode their dragons to Tonks who went with them IMMEDIATLY/

before they went to pick up Norbert they went to Hagrid where Felix and Charlie yapped to him about dragons while Tonks played with a odd lil creature.

THESE ARE ALL MY HCS + SOME FROM MY MOOTS

@mairon-goth-minion @lirenthenonlyrist @guess1mjustheren0w @hawaiianshirttaco64 @percyweasleyapologist @danaris112 @aidens-ocean-galaxy @look-a-gay @l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft @bibeantransbean @yesiamprocrastinating @aceofspades42 @mrstellmeafuckingsecret

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me 🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, i think thats all

all of the songs and celebrities mentioned in here are from the time periods this was written if you are confused🩷

Chapter 1

It was 1956. I was living with my family at the Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas, where my father, then Captain, Joseph Paul y/ln, a career officer, was stationed. He came home late for dinner one evening and handed me a record album.

“I don’t know what this Matt guy is all about,” he said, “but he must be something special. I stood in line with half the Air Force at the PX to get this for you; everybody wants it.”

I put the record on the hi-fi and heard the rocking music of “Blue Suede Shoes.” The album was titled Matt Sturniolo. It was his first.

Like almost every other kid in America, I liked Matt but not as fanatically as many of my girl friends at Del Valley Junior High. They all had Matt T-shirts and Matt hats and Matt socks and even lipstick in colors with names like Hound Dog Orange and Heartbreak Pink referencing names of his songs. Matt was everywhere, on bubblegum cards and Bermuda shorts, on diaries and wallets and pictures that glowed in the dark. The boys at school began trying to look like him, with their fluffy hair and turned up collars.

One girl was so crazy about him that she was running his local fan club. She said I could join for twenty-five cents, the price of a book she’d ordered for me by mail. When I received it, I was shocked to see a picture of Matt signing the bare chests of a couple of girls, at that time an unheard-of act.

Then I saw him on television on Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey’s Stage Show. He was sexy and handsome, with his deep brooding eyes, pouty lips, and crooked smile. He strutted out to the microphone, spread his legs, leaned back, and strummed his guitar. Then he began singing with such confidence, moving his body with unbridled sexuality. Despite myself, I was attracted.

Some members of his adult audience were less enthusiastic. Soon his performances were labeled obscene. My mother stated emphatically that he was “a bad influence for teenage girls. He arouses things in them that shouldn’t be aroused. If there’s ever a mothers’ march against Matt Sturniolo, I’ll be the first in line.”

But I’d heard that despite all of his stage antics and lustful, tough-guy looks, Matt came from a strict Southern Christian background. He was a country boy who didn’t smoke or drink, who loved and honored his parents, and who addressed all adults as “sir” or “ma’am.”

I was an Air Force child, a shy, pretty little girl, unhappily accustomed to moving from base to base every two or three years. By the time I was eleven, I had lived in six different cities and, fearful of not being accepted, I either kept to myself or waited for someone to befriend me. I found it especially difficult entering a new school in the middle of the year, when cliques had already been established and newcomers were considered outsiders.

Small and petite, with long y/hc hair, y/ec eyes, and an upturned nose, I was always stared at by the other students. At first girls would see me as a rival, afraid I’d take their boyfriends away. I seemed to feel more comfortable with boys—and they were usually friendlier.

People always said I was the prettiest girl in school, but I never felt that way. I was skinny, practically scrawny, and even if I was as cute, as people said, I wanted to have more than just good looks. Only with my family did I really feel totally protected and loved. Close and supportive, they provided my stability.

A photographer’s model before her marriage, my mother was totally devoted to her family. As the oldest, it was my responsibility to help her with the kids. After me, there were Don, four years younger, and Michelle, my only sister, who was five years younger than Don. Jeff and the twins, Tim and Tom, hadn’t yet been born.

My mother was too shy to talk about the facts of life, so my sex education came in school, when I was in the sixth grade. Some kids were passing around a book that looked like the Bible from the outside, but when you opened it, there were pictures of men making love to women, and women making love to each other.

My body was changing and stirring with new feelings. I’d gotten looks from boys at school, and once a picture of me in a tight turtleneck sweater was stolen from the school bulletin board. Yet I was still a child, embarrassed about my own sexuality. I fantasized endlessly about French-kissing, but when my friends who hung around our house played spin the bottle, it would take me half an hour to let a boy kiss my pursed lips.

My strong, handsome father was the center of our world. He was a hard worker who had earned his degree in Business Administration at University of Texas. At home he ran a tight ship. He was a firm believer in discipline and responsibility, and he and I frequently knocked heads. When I became a cheerleader at thirteen, it was all I could do to convince him to let me go to out-of-town games. Other times no amount of crying, pleading, or appealing to my mother would change his mind. When he laid down the law, that was that.

I managed to get around him occasionally. When he refused to let me wear a tight skirt, I joined the Girl Scouts specifically so I could wear their tight uniform.

My parents were survivors. Although they often had to struggle financially, we children were the last to feel it. When I was a little girl my mother sewed pretty tablecloths to cover the orange crates that we used as end tables. Rather than do without, we made the best of what we had.

Dinner was strictly group participation: Mother cooked, one of us set the table, and the rest cleaned up. Nobody got away with anything, but we were very supportive of one another. I felt fortunate to have a close-knit family.

Going through old albums of family photographs showing my parents when they were young fascinated me. I was curious about the past. World War II intrigued me, especially since my father had fought with the Marines on Okinawa. He looked handsome in his uniform—you could tell he was posing for my mother—but somehow his smile looked out of place, especially when you realized where he was. When I read the note on the back of the picture about how much he missed my mother, my eyes filled with tears.

While rummaging through the family keepsakes I came upon a small wooden box. Inside was a carefully folded American flag, the kind that I knew was given to servicemen’s widows. Also inside the box was a picture of my mother with her arm around a strange man and, sitting on her lap, an infant. On the back of the photo was inscribed “Mommy, Daddy, y/n.” I had discovered a family secret.

Feeling betrayed, I ran to phone my mother, who was at a party nearby. Within minutes I was in her arms, crying as she calmed me and explained that when I was six months old, my real father, Lieutenant James Wagner, a handsome Navy pilot, had been killed in a plane crash while returning home on leave. Two and a half years later, she married Paul y/ln, who adopted me and had always loved me as his own.

Mother suggested I keep my discovery from the other children. She felt it would endanger our family closeness, though when it did become known, it had no effect on our feelings for one another. She gave me a gold locket that my father had given her. I cherished that locket and wore it for years and fantasized that my father died a great hero. In times of emotional pain and loneliness he would become my guardian angel.

By the end of the year, I’d been nominated to run for Queen of Del Valley Junior High. This was my first taste of politics and competition and it was especially trying because I was running against Millie Collins, my best friend.

We each had a campaign manager introducing us as we went from house to house knocking on doors. My manager tried to talk each person into voting for me and donating a penny or more per vote to a school fund. The nominee who collected the most money won. I was sure that this competition would jeopardize my friendship with Millie, which was more important to me than winning. I considered quitting but felt I couldn’t let my parents or my supporters down. While my mother was out looking for a dress for me to wear to the coronation, my dad kept reminding me to memorize an acceptance speech. I kept putting it off, certain I was going to lose.

It was the last day of the campaign, and a rumor began circulating that Millie’s grandparents had put in a hundred-dollar bill for their vote. My parents were disappointed; there was no way that they could afford to match that much money and even if they could, they objected on principle.

The night they announced the winner, I was all dressed up in a new turquoise blue, strapless tulle net formal that itched so badly I couldn’t wait to take it off. I sat beside Millie on the dais in the large school auditorium. I could see my parents with happy, confident looks on their faces though I was sure they were going to be disheartened. Then the principal walked up to the podium.

“And now,” she said, hesitating to heighten the suspense, “is the moment you’ve all been waiting for  . . . the culmination of a month of campaigning by our two lovely contestants: y/n y/ln  . . .” All eyes turned toward me. I blushed and glanced at Millie. “ . . . and Millie Collins.” Our eyes locked for a brief, tense moment.

“The new Queen of Del Valley Junior High is  . . .” A drum roll sounded. “ . . . y/n y/ln.”

The audience applauded wildly. I was in shock. Called up to the stage to give my speech, I had none. Sure that I was going to lose, I’d never even bothered to write one. I walked, trembling, to the podium, then looked out at the crowded auditorium. All I could see was my father’s face, growing more disappointed as he realized I had nothing to say. When I finally spoke, it was to apologize.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m not prepared to give a speech, as I did not expect to win. But thank you very much for voting for me. I’ll do my very best.” And then, looking at my father, I added, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

I was surprised as the audience graciously applauded, but I still had to face my father and hear him say, “I told you so.”

Being elected Queen was a bittersweet victory, because the closeness that Millie and I once shared was restrained. Still, to me that crown symbolized a wonderful, unfamiliar feeling: acceptance.

My newfound tranquility ended abruptly when my father announced that he was being transferred to Wiesbaden, West Germany.

I was crushed. Germany was the other side of the world. All my fears returned. My first thought was, What am I going to do about my friends? I turned to my mother, who was sympathetic and reminded me that we were in the Air Force and moving was an unavoidable part of our lives.

I finished junior high school, my mother gave birth to baby Jeff, and we said our goodbyes to neighbors and good friends. Everyone promised to write or call, but remembering past promises I knew better. My friend Stephanie jokingly told me that Matt Sturniolo was stationed in Bad Neuheim, West Germany. “Do you believe it? You’re going to be in the same country as Matt Sturniolo,” she said. We looked at a map and found that Bad Neuheim was close to Wiesbaden. I said back, “I’m going over there to meet Matt.” We both laughed, hugged each other, and said goodbye.

West Germany

The fifteen-hour flight to West Germany seemed interminable, but finally we arrived in the beautiful old city of Wiesbaden, headquarters of the U.S. Air Force in Europe. There we checked into the Helene Hotel, a massive and venerable building on the main thoroughfare. After three months, hotel living became too expensive and we began looking for a place to rent.

We felt lucky to find a large apartment in a vintage building constructed long before World War I. Soon after we moved in, we noticed that all the other apartments were rented to single girls. These Fräuleins walked around all day long in robes and negligees, and at night they were dressed to kill. Once we learned a little German, we realized that, although the pension was very discreet, we were living in a brothel.

Moving was out of the question—housing was too scarce—but the location did little to help me to adjust. Not only was I isolated from other American families, but there was the language barrier. I was accustomed to changing schools frequently, but a foreign country posed altogether new problems, principally that I couldn’t share my thoughts. I began to feel that my life had stopped dead in its tracks.

September came and with it, school. Once again I was the new girl. I was no longer popular and secure as I’d been at Del.

There was a place called the Eagles Club, where American service families went for dinner and entertainment. It was within walking distance of the pension and soon proved an important discovery for me. Every day after school, I’d go to the snack bar there and listen to the jukebox and write letters to my friends back home in Austin, telling them how much I missed them. Drowning in tears, I’d spend my weekly allowance playing the songs that were very popular back in the States—Frankie Avalon’s “Venus” and the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do Is Dream.”

One warm summer afternoon, I was sitting with my brother Don when I noticed a handsome man in his twenties staring at me. I’d seen him watching me before, but I’d never paid any attention to him. This time, he stood up and walked toward me. He introduced himself as Steven Wright and asked my name.

“y/n y/ln,” I said, immediately suspicious; he was much older than me.

He asked where in the States I came from, how I liked Germany, and if I liked Matt Sturniolo.

“Of course,” I said, laughing. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’m a good friend of his. My wife and I go to his house quite often. How would you like to join us one evening?”

Unprepared for such an extraordinary invitation, I grew even more skeptical and guarded. I told him I’d have to ask my parents. Over the course of the next two weeks, Steven met my parents and my father checked out his credentials. Steven was also in the Air Force and it turned out that my father knew his commanding officer. That seemed to break the ice between them. Steven assured Dad that I’d be well chaperoned when we visited Matt, who lived off base in a house in Bad Nauheim.

On the appointed night I tore through my closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit. Nothing seemed dressy enough for meeting Matt Sturniolo. I settled on a navy and white sailor dress and white socks and shoes. Surveying myself in the mirror, I thought I looked cute, but being only fourteen, I didn’t think I’d make any kind of impression on Matt.

Eight o’clock finally arrived, and so did Steven Wright and his attractive wife, Carole. Anxious, I hardly spoke to either of them during the forty-five-minute drive. We entered the small town of Bad Nauheim, with its narrow cobblestone streets and plain, old-fashioned houses, and I kept looking around for what I assumed would be Matt’s huge mansion. Instead Steven pulled up to an ordinary-looking three-story house surrounded by a white picket fence.

There was a sign on the gate in German, which translated as: autographs between 7:00 and 8:00 p.m. only. Even though it was after eight o’clock, a large group of friendly German girls waited around expectantly. When I asked Steven about them, he explained that there were always large groups of fans outside the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Matt.

I followed Steven through the gate and up the short pathway to the door. We were welcomed by James Sturniolo, Matt’s father, a tall, gray-haired, attractive man, who led us down a long hallway to the living room, from which I could hear Brenda Lee on the record player, singing “Sweet Nothin’s.”

The plain, almost drab living room was filled with people, but I spotted Matt immediately. He was handsomer than he appeared in films, younger and more vulnerable-looking with his haircut. He was in civilian clothes, a bright red sweater and tan slacks, and he was sitting with one leg swung over the arm of a large overstuffed chair, with a cigar dangling from his lips.

As Steven led me over to him, Matt stood up and smiled. “Well,” he said. “What have we here?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just kept staring at him.

“Matt,” Steven said, “this is y/n y/ln. The girl I told you about.”

We shook hands and he said, “Hi, I’m Matt Sturniolo,” but then there was a silence between us until Matt asked me to sit down beside him, and Steven drifted off.

“So,” Matt said. “Do you go to school?”

“Yes.”

“What are you, about a junior or senior in high school?”

I blushed and said nothing, not willing to reveal that I was only in the ninth grade.

“Well,” he persisted.

“Ninth.”

Matt looked confused. “Ninth what?”

“Grade,” I whispered.

“Ninth grade,” he said and started laughing. “Why, you’re just a baby.”

“Thanks,” I said curtly. Not even Matt Sturniolo had the right to say that to me.

“Well. Seems the little girl has spunk,” he said, laughing again, amused by my response. He gave me that charming smile of his, and all my resentment just melted away.

We made small talk for a while longer. Then Matt got up and walked over to the piano and sat down. The room suddenly grew silent. Everyone’s eyes were focused on him as he began to entertain us.

He sang “Rags to Riches” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and then with his friends singing harmony, “End of the Rainbow.” He also did a Jerry Lee Lewis impersonation, pounding the keys so hard that a glass of water he’d set on the piano began sliding off. When Matt caught it without missing a beat of the song, everyone laughed and applauded except me. I was nervous. I glanced around the room and saw an intimidating life-size poster of a half-nude model on the wall. She was the last person I wanted to see, with her fulsome body, pouting lips, and wild mane of tousled hair. Imagining Matt’s taste in women, I felt very young and out of place.

I glanced up and saw Matt trying to get my attention. I noticed that the less response I showed, the more he began singing just for me. I couldn’t believe that Matt Sturniolo was trying to impress me.

Later, he asked me to come into the kitchen, where he introduced me to his grandmother, Minnie Mae Sturniolo, who stood by the stove, frying a huge pan of bacon. As we sat down at the table, I told Matt I wasn’t hungry. Actually I was too nervous to eat.

“You’re the first girl I’ve met from the States in a long time,” Matt said, as he began devouring the first of five gigantic bacon sandwiches, each one smothered with mustard. “Who are the kids listening to?”

I laughed. “Are you kidding?” I said. “Everyone listens to you.”

Matt seemed unconvinced. He asked me a lot of questions about Fabian and Ricky Nelson. He told me he was worried about how his fans would accept him when he returned to the States. Since he’d been away, he hadn’t made any public appearances or movies, although he’d had five hit singles, all recorded before he’d left.

It felt like we’d just begun talking when Steven came in and pointed to his watch. I had dreaded that moment; the evening had gone so fast. It seemed I had just arrived and now I was being hurried away. Matt and I had just started to get to know each other. I felt like Cinderella, knowing that when my curfew came, all this magic would end. I was surprised when Matt asked Steven if I could possibly stay longer. When Steven explained the agreement with my father, Matt casually suggested that maybe I could come by again. Though I wanted to more than anything in the world, I didn’t really believe it would happen.

a/n - thoughts on this story so far? all the fashion and technology and things is still based in the time period its set in but i promise it gets better as the story goes on! i know the age gap is crazy but back in the day it was normal and its the age gap in Priscilla’s book so i just stuck with it. I in no way support this at all🎀

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

[metalmonki]

Objection!

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Next Chapter

The day had finally come. I had successfully graduated Harvard Law. My Mum, Dad, brother Sonny and sisters Bella, Teresa and Gina had made the trip out of Staten Island to witness the graduation. The youngest of the Carisi clan, I choose to follow Sonny into the criminal prosecution career track. Sonny had recently transferred to the Elite Manhattan Special Victims Unit and was also studying at Fordham Law ‘to make myself a better detective’ he had said. Sonny and I, despite our 11-year age gap, were completely inseparable. He had been the one who got the rest of our family together to be here today. Sonny is the whole reason I was graduating today. He had encouraged me even after Mum and Dad had voiced their disappointment at my choice.

I had barely made it off the stage when Sonny had scooped me up in his arms and began spinning us around. He had the worlds biggest smile on his face and repeated over and over again how proud he was of me. Our parents and sisters soon joined us.

“I’m going to cook a big feast tonight just for you” Mom smiled.

“You always cook a big feast, that’s every meal for you” Dad scoffed.

“Oh shush you cranky old man” Mum swatted at him with open hands.

We all laughed at the pair and walked off to the cars. We had a long drive ahead of us back to Staten Island. After dinner I would then have to drive back into Manhattan with Sonny. I had come here with Sonny yesterday from his apartment in Manhattan and had no choice but to go back there with him tonight. Now I had graduated I had no clue what I was suppose to do. I had been applying for positions in almost every law firm in New York with no luck. I’d even applied for the DA’s office with no success. I knew Sonny would let me live with him for however long it took for me to find my feet. He had insisted on it in fact when I’d moved back to New York last month. This had been Mum and Dads complaint. I would waste my time on a piece of paper that would lead me nowhere. I’d even put in an extra two years on a masters degree just to increase my chances.

“Hay kiddo is everything okay?” Sonny spoke up “You’ve been silent for the last 45 minutes and you look worried”

“Maybe Mum and Dad were right” Was all I could get out.

“About what? Don’t tell me your doubting yourself now” Sonny smiled over at me.

“I spent the whole month applying for positions with no luck, all I’ve managed is a minimum wage bodega job. I can’t rely on you forever Sonny, you have your own life, the woman at work you said you fancy, while I just wasted six years to get a piece of paper that’s turning out to be useless. I wanted to be up there with the greats like Alexander Cabot and Rafael Barba” I sighed picking at my nails.

“Y/N Carisi always worrying” Sonny chuckled “Give it time you’ll get something soon; you don’t need to rush”

“I’m not trying to rush I just don’t like not knowing” I threw my hands up.

But wait I did. For 9 months I applied for any law jobs that came up. I worked my ass off at the bodega, saving every penny I could to get out of Sonny’s flat. Then one day it happened. I had been busy cooking dinner, a simple chicken alfredo, when Sonny basically smashed his way through the door. I hadn’t expected him home until much later. I knew they were having trouble catching the Central Park Strangler as the papers had dubbed him. A horrid man who would stalk lone women in central park, strangle and rape them. Sonny had said he was escalating an attack every night, he hadn’t killed anyone yet but Sonny was sure he would soon. He had made me promise not to leave the flat alone at night until they got the guy. He had left DNA at every scene so as soon as they got him he was going away for life. No chance of a plea bargain, no way to weasel out of it. Sonny had a huge smile on his face as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m guessing by the smile on your face you caught your guy? That or you finally grew a pair and asked Amanda out and she said yes” I chuckled.

“Yes, well no, but yes” Sonny stumbled over his words while he hung his coat up and took his shoes off.

“Well which is it?” I laughed.

“We caught the guy, Barba had him shipped to rikers an hour ago” Sonny put his brief case on the bench and dug through it producing a manila envelope. “I also got this for you” he handed the envelope to me. 

I wiped my hands off on my apron and took the envelope. I turned it over in my hands taking note of the District Attorneys office logo in the corner. I disregarded it as just being an envelope Sonny had handy. I turned the envelope over once more and unwound the string keeping it closed. Inside was a stack of paperwork maybe 30 pages thick. Written on top of the first sheet in bold letters were the words OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. I looked up shocked at Sonny before looking back at the papers. We are pleased to offer you a position as an assistant to ADA Rafael Barba at the New York District  Attorney Office.

“Oh Sonny this is amazing thank you”  I pulled him into a hug.

“It was nothing I just called in a favour when I heard Barba needed some extra help”  Sonny chuckled “All you need to do is fill in the forms and drop them off to Barba tomorrow. He says he’ll in his office from 3 onward”.

“I’ll fill them in first thing but for now lets eat!”.

“Oh you mean the food that’s burning on the stove?” Sonny chuckled.

“Shit!” I spun back to the stove but it was pointless the chicken had already started turning black and the pasta was almost boiled dry.

“I’ll order out and you can trying to salvage my pot and pan” Sonny laughed walking off phone in hand.

[cherryslyce]

Like Clockwork | Theodore Nott

Synopsis: You meet Theodore as a child, but the promises and laughter of your youth are left to be forgotten as war approaches.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw!Reader

Notes: A shorter story that is kind of different from the formatting of my usual writing, but I'm quite happy with the finished result. This one will be a little painful.

The first time you meet Theodore Nott, you’re seven, still with a penchant for mischief and a habit for knocking your knees against the soft grass. It’s by pure accident that you stumble upon the stony-eyed boy who carried himself with an air of heavy responsibility.

He is visibly burdened. Because at a young age, he was already drifting helplessly in the sea of expectations and danger irreparably encroached into the veins of every Nott heir. Perfectly pureblooded, intelligent enough to know their role, but obedient enough to never question it.

At a young age, you still have your saccharine smiles and lackadaisical walk. It’s improper, your mother would scold, but unlike the steely-gazed boy’s parents, your parents carried little heat in their words. 

It is during an annual get together among the powerful pureblood families that you are positively certain that Theodore Nott was just the friend for you. 

His serious demeanor and watchful eyes left the other heirs unnerved and uninterested in being around him. So when you bound up to the boy, dandelion in hand, extending the sad little stem with an assuring grin, Theodore is sure you’ll be his little solace.

As the years flicker by, your bond only grows stronger, the shared nights stargazing and reading with the flashlights your house elves supplied causing the both of you to become inseparable. 

By 11, you’re both bouncing off the walls in excitement. Theodore barely has time to step out of your floo network before you’re nearly tackling him in a hug. To the both of you, Hogwarts was a place where you could both hang out without a time limit, and without the watchful eyes of your parents. 

The question of Houses and sortings doesn’t surface until you’re sat in your train compartment with an enthusiastic Blaise and a smug Draco. Your indifference to potentially not getting into Slytherin becomes the central topic of conversation between you four the whole way there. 

Theodore promises that it wouldn’t change your friendship, that house colors and its unity would never surpass your tender years of growing up together. 

He keeps his promise as you’re sorted into Ravenclaw. 

By second year, your parents have a falling out with Theodore’s. Theo’s parents seemed to turn like day and night, no longer comfortable with their heir floundering around with a non-Slytherin. Your parents back you, and as they pull away from the former tight-knit circle of dark pureblood families—they begin to question the ways of the Dark Lord. 

Theodore privately disregards his parents' letters, even making it a point to burn them in front of you. In public, Theodore has to play the role of an obedient heir, so you both stop partnering up in your classes and allow everyone to believe that you’re no longer friends.

You were not deterred by the change, understanding Theo’s precarious position and understanding that as long as in private it stayed all the same, you could keep the front up in public. 

It is only when third year rolls around that you begin to feel a rift settle between the both of you. The summer was spent with no contact with each other, even by letter, and the school year is filled with awkward little pauses in your conversations. 

You make friends with Susan Bones and Gryffindor’s Golden Trio to fill the gap. Theo begins to become a regular presence in Draco’s circle of friends, and he also begins to avoid your pointed glances when they all jeer at Harry. 

The rift grows into a cavernous berth by fourth year. Harry’s unceremonious reaping into the Triwizard Tournament seemed like jet fuel for the bigoted, blabbering engine that was Draco’s mouth. Theodore never steps in, hovering to show his silent support for the Malfoy heir. 

Your disappointment hangs heavy over your heart, yet, you soon force yourself to forget it as the tournament wraps up with the delivery of Cedric Diggory’s body from the maze. Nothing left of the kind, free-spirited boy—only an unseeing, glassy stare that would haunt you for the rest of the summer nights. 

Harry’s cries about Voldemort’s resurrection spurs storms of scrutiny and hatred, venomous words piling on your friend as you watch helplessly. No one was willing to believe him. 

But as the year ends and you see an uncertain Draco stride alongside a pale-faced Theodore, you’re sure many people agree with Harry in the shadows. 

Fifth year wipes away your carefree grins and echoing laughter, replacing the pieces of your old-self with fragments of someone unfamiliar. You’re prone to bouts of anger and episodes of self-withdrawal, unable to shake away the chronic stupor. 

Your stormy tides only grow in power as Umbridge begins to gain gradual power at Hogwarts. This only leads to an outcome that has you bonding with Harry over your shared torture in the woman’s office. 

Fifth year sees Theodore sporting uncharacteristic worry on his face, his cold eyes drawn to follow your every move. 

The strain that ripped your friendship apart at the seams, seems to disappear one night after one of your detentions. As you are walking back to your dorm, clutching your bleeding, irritated hand, a firm grip hauls you into one of the dark alcoves of the castle. 

You draw your wand in surprise, and you only lower it once you see the culprit, your heart bleeding over again. 

Theodore doesn’t speak as he gently applies Murtlap Essence to your wounds, running his thumb around the angry letters. And no words need to be exchanged as he’s pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you in his arms, a silent reassurance of his presence.

The rest of your fifth year plays out the same way. Your friendship with Theo was mending slowly, but surely, an unspoken understanding seeming to bridge the gap that tore you both apart for years. 

By the end of fifth year, you’re both meeting up often in the shadows of the castle, talking about nonsensical topics and sharing lingering touches. The ache that finds residence in your heart only seems to persist as you long for more. 

The last week of fifth year, an owl you recognize as belonging to Theodore’s father, swoops into the hall along with the other owls, dropping a prim envelope onto the boy’s empty plate. You see Theodore’s eyes turn stormy, his grip going white on the paper, and he only tears his gaze away when Millicent Bulstrode pats his shoulder. Your stomach sinks. 

The last week of fifth year has you in a whirlwind of fury again as Theodore stops showing up in your meeting spots, returning to completely ignoring your existence. 

You’re left heartbroken and confused. 

Your answers arrive after a long summer filled with endless night terrors and heart ache. As you sit in the dining hall at the beginning of your sixth year, you have to fight back the stinging in your eyes as you hear a few girls whispering near you. 

“Didn’t you hear? Nott and Bulstrode are betrothed, my mum says the ceremony is next summer.” 

Sixth year is filled with constant reminders of the couple, loneliness flooding your lungs and threatening to drag you beneath the surface. You’re barely staying afloat when Harry approaches you with the burden of war, something you’re readily jumping into to get your mind away from the Slytherin boy. 

When Dumbledore falls from the astronomy tower and is pronounced dead, you feel your whole world flip. 

You have little time to panic before a familiar pair of hands is guiding you to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Theodore’s words come out rushed and shaky, but you manage to snap back to reality long enough to understand him. 

Theo is running his hands down your cheeks, pressing his face closer to yours as tears collect in his eyes. 

The engagement between him and Millicent was a front, he needed to do it to please his father– to avoid getting marked by Voldemort. Draco is not as fortunate. Theodore admits to helping the Malfoy heir with smuggling in the death eaters, but he rushed away immediately to make sure you were safe.

The news has you staring up at him in confusion and he begins to profusely whisper words of apologies, hugging your shocked body to his.

As you both hold each other in the darkness of the forest, you know that chaos was raining upon the world outside the safety of the towering trees. 

It is at the end of your sixth year in the forest when you and Theo share your first kiss, words of promises and apologies whispered between you two. 

Seventh year has you hunting for horcruxes with your friends, shouldering the burden in order to free the Wizarding World from the hellscape created by Voldemort. When your journey brings you back to the castle, your group splits up to cover more ground. Harry leaves for Voldemort, and you leave in search of your own Slytherin. 

Your reunion is nothing short of tears and relieved touches, hearts drumming loudly at the adrenaline of war and the joy of finding each other. Theodore presses kisses to your face, unbothered by the shocked looks you both receive from other students. 

In that moment, it felt like you were both children again. 

It’s 10 minutes after Voldemort arrives and all hell breaks loose, rubble raining from meters above, bodies dropping just as quickly. 

You can’t find Theodore anywhere, but you promise to look for him once it all ends, no matter who comes out victorious. 

You don’t find him.

It’s 5 months after the Battle of Hogwarts, rebuilding the castle takes a collective effort, and some surviving older students settle for odd jobs, others deciding to finish their last year at the fractured castle. 

It’s 5 months after the battle when Theodore finds you. 

His left ring finger is bare, eyes watering as he walks. The flower in his hand spins around as he nervously fiddles with his fingers. 

He promised that he would find you, and he did. 

The leaves cascade in waves of bright green, spring rolling in and highlighting the era of change to come now that Voldemort is gone.

Theo sits on the grass, his flower extended from his hand, and he lets his tears fall for the first time in the new era. 

A promised change is coming to the Wizarding World, and things will get better for the war-hardened citizens. 

Yet, it doesn’t feel that way, not when Theodore has to kneel down and place the lonesome flower on your polished grave--not when he has no anchor to keep him grounded in the new world. 

And he suddenly remembers when you were both seven and naive, feeling unobstructed by the fears of the real world. 

It is when he’s seven that he vows to protect you, no matter the cost. He vowed he would burn the world down to preserve your joyful smiles and warm eyes. 

But it was the fires that he lit which consumed you in the end. 

So, when he’s 18, Theodore Nott closes himself away from the world, and he swears to himself he would never make the same mistakes again. 

When Theodore Nott is 18, he resumes carrying the weight of his burdens and guilt alone. 

When Theo is 18, he wishes you were 18 with him too.

masterlist

[freakenomenon]

OKAY. I FINALLY HAVE ANOTHER ESSAY RANT THING BUT ITS NOT IHNMAIMS SADLY.

I find it so interesting how REAL the desperation in the delivery of other mother saying "DONT LEAVE ME, ILL DIE WITHOUT YOU." is,, of course within the nature of the beldams character you'd find yourself questioning the honesty of this statement.

i mean duh we're not the 11 year old hurriedly rushing away from an entity we'd briefly been attached to and found solace in. from the start, other mother seems eerie and just. OFF. but i find it endlessly interesting how progressively desperate other mother is for coraline to stay with her. its incredibly vague what other mother does to the previous children in the movie. most people interpret it as her LITERALLY eating the children or eating their souls. but it seems like there is genuine attachment there, although incredibly unhealthy. its there.

while talking with the cat, not only does it comment that it thinks the mother simply wants something to love other than herself. but i noticed coraline literally walks away from the abhorrent situation she's left to deal with, only to end up right back where she started. which I think is a representation of how unhealthy coralines escapism through this world is. she is being neglected of attention and rather than branch out, she retreats to a world that seems much more welcoming. but is just as unhealthy as the last. walk around the world.

this is coralines world. at this age, her house, her parents, her. attachments. thats her whole world, and even as she detaches from it. humans are creatures of habit, so she ends up in practically the same place. and personally i think that says a lot about the other mother as well. confined to the pink palace apartments, she seeks out children who are unhappy and gives them everything they want in exchange for them blinding themselves to their pasts and being entirely dependent on her. and with each child, they sew the buttons and allow her to literally love them to death. its all she has, she exists for this soul purpose. or at least that's what shes convinced herself. the gap she has between reality, tragedy and triumph, to carve something she believes as perfection to appease others is all she is.

and as each other child shattered beneath the weight of her affection and bent to her charm, coraline falters. she refuses. she DARES to believe shed rather go back to her real parents, to realize shes not too far gone. its unpredictable, it breaks that mask of delusion SHES blinded herself. BLINDED OTHERS with. and brings her back to the cold reality that is the blank void she's been confined to. between reality. where she can only create half baked imitations of what's around her and pretend that what shes made is better. but who else is there for her to impress? to help. to play with.

just like with coraline, now that shes moved and lost her friends. her parents are all she has left to cling to.

BUT IDK thats just my interpretation

[belit0]

if the Uchihas could choose, how many children would they have? 😼

AAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THIS YESSSSSSSSSSSSS (no but fr u have no idea how much i love this type of requests)

I will list the ages so everyone can compare the gap between each child😩🛐

uchihas as parents are my favorite topic of conversation❤️‍🩹

please, if you want more information about any of these guys' children, DON'T HESITATE TO ASK ME, I love to talk about it.

Indra (fertile as fuck and a sex addict)

8 motherfucking kids, yeah, EIGHT. Among them, we have:

a set of twins (two boys - 16 years old)

a set of triplets (three boys - 11 years old)

one girl (7 years old)

one girl (4 years old)

one boy (1 year old)

Madara (most adorable father in the whole entire world)

3 babies, perfect amount (love to imagine him as a single father, don't know why)

a set of triplets (three girls, full chaos)

Izuna (NOPEEEEEEEEE)

plain and simple: hates kids, would never be a father. Loves his nieces tho, and he's the best uncle ever, but with that, he has enough.

lives the parental experience through Madara's girls, and loves every single second of it, but likes to keep it that way, as something external and without having to be permanently responsible for anyone (yolo 🤠)

Obito (cutest father alive)

2 kids, and that's enough (wouldn't be able to keep up with more babies)

one girl (big sister - 8 years old)

one boy (younger brother - 5 years old)

Shisui (is he the parent or the child? no one knows)

only 1 son, as he considers it the perfect amount for dividing his attention between the kid and (Y/N). He's a busy man.

one boy (only child)

Itachi (the best of all, totally reliable)

3 kids, cause after having his firstborn, he wanted another one to keep the child company, and the third one came as a surprise.

one daughter (oldest - 6 years old)

one boy (middle kid - 4 years old)

one girl (youngest - 2 years old)

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Let's call it Fate | Part 16

(A/N) I'll leave it up to you, what you gift Secondo!

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, mistreatment of Ghouls, threats, angst, fluff, kissis, bit more spice

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

Sunday came too quickly. By the time everyone gathered for the black mass, you had just about finished your plans. All that was left to do was get all the brothers, especially Secondo, into Copia’s apartment after the mass so you could celebrate.

“You thinking about Copia?” Your eyes focused on Lila, who sat beside you in the chapel. A quiet chuckle left your lips as you shook your head. “No…for once at least.” Lila chuckled and nodded, her eyes focusing on the Cardinal standing at the front, ensuring everything was ready. But before you could tell your friend what you were actually thinking about, Terzo waltzed up to the altar and the black mass started. For the longest time, nothing out of the ordinary happened, and you began to wonder if Papa Secondo had convinced his brothers not to celebrate that day. But then Terzo started to speak.

“As most of you know, today is my dear brother’s birthday.” With as much pizazz as possible, he gestured to Papa Secondo, who had his head in his hands, shaking it slightly. “So, to celebrate, we’ll sing his favorite song from his album.” The moment these words left Terzo’s mouth, Papa Secondo glanced up, confusion clear on his face. But before he could object, the notes for ‘Year Zero’ started playing. Along with everyone else, you started to sing along, although most of the voices around you, were drowned out by Terzo, singing at the top of his lungs while dancing around in the front. Lila and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched the current Papa perform. But the moment the lyrics came to “a daughter to fall for a son”, you couldn’t help but glance up at Copia, a soft smile spreading on your lips, as you realized that he was already looking at you, his lips forming the words.

A soft blush rose to your cheeks, and you quickly adverted your gaze, scared that you could get caught somehow. Of course, Lila did catch your little moment, gently elbowing you with a grin to show her support.

After another hour or so, the black mass came to an end, and everyone slowly filtered out of the chapel, but you hung back, waiting to be alone with the Emeritus brothers. “Have fun.” Lila winked at you on her way out, making you chuckle. Before long, the chapel was empty, safe for you and the four men, as well as Phantom and Dew.

“Please lock the chapel doors on your way out.” The Ghouls nodded and did as they were asked.

“Terzo, piccolo bastardo. Era proprio necessario? Sai che non mi piace attirare l'attenzione sul mio compleanno.” Papa Secondo didn’t hold his frustrations back as he yelled at his little brother. But Terzo just waved him off with a smile. “Sai che è tradizione, fratello. Ci ho solo messo un po' sopra.” While they were arguing, you slowly made your way to Copia, who immediately pulled you to his side.

“Hi.” You grinned up at him, echoing his greeting before your attention returned to the brothers. With a reassuring squeeze on your hips by Copia, you gently cleared your throat, making everyone look at you. “You have made it very clear that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday, but we prepared a little something in Copia’s apartment. I’d really prefer you just came with us, but if not…” behind Papa Secondo, Swiss popped up, a grin on his face. “…we have reinforcements, and we will go the hard route.”

Once Papa Secondo realized that there was no getting out of it, he conceded with a heavy sigh and followed as Copia and you led the way through the secret tunnels. Just before you reached the door to Copia’s apartment, you handed Papa Secondo a blindfold, which he begrudgingly put on. Terzo and Copia took over, leading him inside safely, and once you had lit the candles on the cake you had baked, you gave the signal for Terzo to remove the blindfold.

Papa Secondo was greeted by a heavenly-looking chocolate cake with candles on it. Further back, the table was littered with presents, as well as a little bit of confetti to make everything a tad bit more colorful. But when Papa Secondo just kept staring at the cake, not saying a word, you started to feel anxious.

“My parents never celebrated my birthday with me. But…but the staff did. At first, I was sad every year. Confused as to why they wouldn’t even congratulate me, but our head chef always baked me this cake, and it always cheered me up, even when I didn’t even want to be reminded that it was my birthday. I…I don’t know why you don’t like to celebrate, but I learned that birthdays are here to be celebrated, you just need the right people.”

It was silent for a few moments before you were suddenly enveloped in a hug, two strong arms holding you against a burly chest. Confusion filled you for a moment before you realized that Papa Secondo was hugging you. “Grazie, cara.” You smiled, hugging him back.

“Okay! Let’s get this party started!” Leave it to Terzo to ruin a moment. But after Secondo let go of you and blew out the candles, the cake was served and devoured. Within moments, you were declared the family baker from then on, and after the cake was gone, the evening was spent playing different board and card games. At some point, Secondo unwrapped his presents, making comments about each one until he got to yours. He must’ve immediately recognized that it was from you because he just glanced at you with a soft smile, mouthing a quiet ‘thank you.’

After a few hours, when Primo started to doze off, Secondo declared it a birthday well spent and started to usher his brothers, especially Terzo, out the door, thanking you one more time before leaving. The moment the doors closed behind the three, Copia drew you into a hug and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “You are a miracle, amore.”

Translations: amore...love erzo, piccolo bastardo. Era proprio necessario? Sai che non mi piace attirare l'attenzione sul mio compleanno...Terzo you little bastard. Was that really necessary? You know I don't like drawing attention to my birthday. Sai che è tradizione, fratello. Ci ho solo messo un po' sopra...You know it's tradition, brother. I just put a little spin on it. Grazie, cara...Thank you, dear.

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Ghost Masterlist

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Tags: @antoniamarie1989

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[melozy]

✩ would anyone be interested in a BORUTO REWRITE ? (follow this link to read the fic)

here are the major things i'm changing from the series to fit into a more realistic storyline ↴

first, and this is very based, but i dislike boruto's name in general. i know it's an homage to neji's name (which translates to "screw"), and don't get me wrong 'bolt' as a nickname that references both neji and minato's legacy (since the latter was known as the 'yellow flash of konoha') is awesome. but in my story, i've given the main character the name akihiro (ironically known as hiro by his peers) meaning "bright" or "shining" with this kanji variation 明弘 [in which the first one literally translates to "dawn".]

also, it'll help if you read THIS first (a post made by me and my cousin two years ago! and it's only now coming to fruition :>)

other key points where this story diverges from boruto, both in terms of plot, themes, and character dynamics:

akihiro's personality and role

akihiro is much more charismatic and endearing, resembling a "sweet-talker" type who bonds deeply with others rather than boruto’s initial rebellious and aloof nature. he embraces being naruto’s son but struggles with living up to the expectations, rather than rejecting them outright.

this adds complexity to his growth as a leader and makes him more relatable and likable to a wider range of characters.

akihiro is an only child

unlike boruto, akihiro doesn’t have a younger sibling like himawari. this shifts the family dynamic to focus more closely on his relationship with naruto and hinata, highlighting their efforts to guide him without distractions.

it makes akihiro’s journey more introspective and personal, with fewer family members diluting his arc. but this will tie into another plotpoint with sakura and sasuke's kid(s) looking up to him as an older brother figure, so he fulfills that role just as well. the reason i chose not to give him a sibling is because i'm still on the fence about giving akihiro the byakugan since it might be too cliché (but admit it, boruto's and himawari's designs would've looked pretty cool with the eerie edge of the hyuugas' pupil-less eyes). but i have no intention of making naruto pass on kurama to his kids, especially not to akihiro. so, the point of him having a sibling in the timeline where conflict arises pretty early (just after the events of akihiro's birth) is unlikely.

generation gap in konoha 9's children

the children of the original konoha 9 aren’t all the same age.

they were born across a realistic timeline based on their parents’ relationships (e.g., temari and shikamaru’s child is older than sakura and sasuke’s).

the reason for this was pretty much at face value, it just is highly unlikely that all the couples got together and fell pregnant at the same time. maybe some kids are same age but mostly spanning a five year range at minimum. this adds more diverse interactions across generations and avoids the forced "classmates" dynamic that boruto had.

right now i do have the konoha 9's kids figured out. from oldest to youngest, they are [this is during when my story starts, when akihiro is 15]:

shikadai nara (18) > chocho akimichi (17) > akihiro uzumaki (16) > inojin yamanaka (16) > shizumi nara (13) > sarada and souta uchiha (11)

stronger, more varied teammates

akihiro’s teammates are more specialized and powerful compared to boruto’s. yume kazemura, an immigrant from the land of mist with her water style and weapon specialty, and daichi hiiragi, a fire-style ninja with a less prominent earth style. akihiro himself would have wind and lightning style + hyuuga taijutsu — mostly because i wanted to divide each team in a way that balances each other out.

this team is a frontline squad, so their chakra amount and specialty is prominent. it also gives me a reason to make sasuke mentor akihiro later in the story since lightning style seems almost a precursor to space-time jutsu and no other konoha 9 member has an affinity for it.

in any case, their abilities are distinctive and critical in battles, unlike boruto’s team, which felt derivative of naruto’s team 7 and very replicated, in my opinion.

otsutsuki threat introduced as a mystery

a plot point taken from this post (which was actually made by my cousin, who is beta-reading this as we speak!), the otsutsuki threat is revealed gradually through mysterious portals, strange creatures, and sinister chakra bombs, rather than immediately presenting godlike enemies like momoshiki. the slow-burn introduction makes the otsutsuki more terrifying and allows the story to maintain a grounded tone while building tension.

the chakra bomb thing is introduced right after the events of "the last", a few months after naruto and hinata's wedding. a few konoha shinobi en route to kumo for their chunin exams (konohamaru's team being of them), come across a border villager in the land of fire who is on the brink of fever-induced delirium, somehow mid-speech just gives out an insane level of raw chakra pulsing out of his body before collapsing, dead.

the genin team leaders decide to investigate and find that an entire small village on the border was wiped out without a trace of struggle or attack. naturally, fingers are raised towards kumo who really have no clue what's going on. just when it was about to written off as an invasion by the rogue factions, another similar incident takes place in iwagakure. the land of fire and wind being the closest to it are now under fire.

then i plan on introducing a cult who are old regime supremacists (led by disciples of kaguya who were indoctrinated by black zetsu). they believe in the eradication of the non-shinobi factions, a play on the "survival of the fittest" morality. maybe i will integrate the bioengineering and technical development aspect. but it won't be nearly as advanced as the stuff introduced in the boruto universe.

by the time akihiro is 16, strange portals carrying behemoths (think chitauri from avengers, endbringers from worm or even kaiju from pacific rim) into the world open up all across the globe. each nation basically brings a standstill on managing the political uprising to secure their borders, working together to configure who is behind these attacks and where these alien creatures are coming from.

meanwhile, a kaguya cult member reveals the location of a portal leading to the moon base where a fee otsutsuki relics and shrines are found by hiro and his team. while the powerhouses are deployed to deal with the monsters, the village heads are swarmed with cases of riots, fights breaking out between borders and all in all, hostility brewing between the elemental nations.

eventually the behemoth attacks get so frequent and so far apart in distance from one another that it becomes impossible to manage them all — leading to the affected areas being vacated after entire cities are demolished.

this eventually leads to a showdown in the ruins of uzushio where the biggest behemoth shows up, alongside two otsutsuki clan members and most of the alliance is posted there for a drawn out battle.

eventually, after practically wiping the floor with the alliance, the otsutsukis leave but not without the promise of return to plant a chakra tree on earth and to clear it out of tainted blood so the trueborns can thrive in their new paradise. (since humanity right now is a mix of kaguya's blood which gives them control over chakra and human dna — basically, the otsutsuki want to cleanse the world of them and take over the chakra fountain that is earth).

political turmoil between nations

the story will include realistic international tensions among the five great nations. rogue factions, misunderstandings, and betrayals play a critical role in the otsutsuki conflict. everyone with be pointing fingers but due to an established alliance among the kages, no shinobi can act on their convictions without breaking the treaty and being ousted as a stray ninja.

this adds stakes beyond just physical battles, emphasizing the fragile peace post-shinobi war. it also involves side characters from other villages, making the world feel larger and more dynamic.

power scaling is even

the power scaling is balanced, with the konohamaru generation being significantly stronger than akihiro’s due to the chakra bomb conflict arising during their peak as chunin/jounin. while akihiro is talented, he isn’t overpowered like boruto.

battles require teamwork, strategy, and sacrifice. it will also make the older generations more battle-hardened, experienced and will give them knowledge to impart on their charges as sensei. this avoids sidelining older characters and makes fights more engaging. even lower-tier ninjas have meaningful roles (which will be even more prominent during the final battle arc).

akihiro's love interest

now, this is a topic i'm very conflicted on.

on one hand i have this incredible character planned (sayuri ayakami) with seishinkan, a kekkei genkai aligned with the spiritual power of chakra maneuvering. it affects perceptions, health and even can cause/absorb physical blows to an extent for redistribution later. it works on the basis of the very existence of the otsutsuki clan, how they manipulate space-time, dimensional and planetary jutsu.

[she's basically the non-overpowered and very much human version of eida]

akihiro has a unique romantic subplot with sayuri, a character tied to an ancient clan and her own burdens. their bond develops naturally through shared hardships and mutual growth. this romance feels organic and adds emotional stakes. while i have nothing against boruto’s dynamic with sarada, the uchiha-uzumaki thing feels a little overdone.

but this above all is a shounen series that i'm making with emphasis on action and politics in the ninja world. so, i'm not sure how romance will fly in this universe. (what do you all think?)

greater role for older characters

characters like naruto, sasuke, sakura, gaara, shikamaru, the other kages and the previous generation have pivotal roles throughout the story. they don’t fade into the background but instead serve as mentors, fighters, and emotional anchors.

especially during the stand against the monsters and managing the political uproar caused by the kaguya cult. this respects their legacy while highlighting the generational transition, something boruto struggles with.

a new way to beat the otsutsuki

like i said, many characters will play different yet very important role in building up to and even during the final stand against the all-powerful otsutsuki.

minor characters and even less power shinobi from the alliances collectively will help in taking down the enemies bit by bit. humanity’s triumph over the otsutsuki wouldn't rely solely on godlike powers or specific individuals like boruto and kawaki. instead, it will involve strategies and unique abilities from many characters, such as sayuri’s seishinkan severing dimensional ties.

this makes the victory feel earned by everyone, not just a chosen few, and emphasizes teamwork and innovation over brute strength.

sasuke's absence from konoha has a real reason

sasuke’s absence is explained by his investigation of the chakra bomb incidents as he is made to be the prime coordinator of the anbu of konoha and usually the first to respond to impacted locations on short notice due to his rinnegan prowess. it's not just due vague wanderings that's he's not with his family. his return then carries significant weight.

it gives sasuke a clear purpose and enhances his arc while tying into the main story. it also builds on how sarada and souta's dynamics are, and how each twin copes with their dad not being present and mom being busy with her obligations.

this is one of the reasons why they look up to akihiro that much more because akihiro with his natural charm, abilities and ties to the hokage is somewhat popular amount his peers. despite this, he is welcoming towards the uchiha twins and takes them under his wing, sticking up for them and not letting them be turned into social pariahs.

sayuri's seishinkan and her clan

sayuri's seishinkan is a unique spiritual kekkei genkai, not a derivative of the byakugan or sharingan. her clan’s history ties into the otsutsuki invasion and ancient conflicts. this avoids redundancy in bloodline abilities while adding depth to the lore.

villains across all tiers

the otsutsuki threat isn’t limited to godlike figures. generals, zetsu-like soldiers, and mutated creatures provide challenges for all levels of ninja. this ensures that even lower-ranked ninjas and civilians play meaningful roles, unlike in boruto where only top-tier fighters matter.

the pacing of the story

the story spans akihiro’s growth from age 16 to 19, with major arcs that focus on mystery, politics, and personal relationships. the pacing is deliberate, allowing for more character development and emotional moments. this approach feels more cohesive and satisfying compared to boruto’s often disjointed plotlines.

this rewrite creates a more balanced, grounded, and emotionally resonant narrative compared to boruto. it respects the legacy of naruto’s generation, develops a new generation with their own unique abilities and struggles, and introduces the otsutsuki as a nuanced, terrifying threat that can’t simply be punched away.

— NOTES. again, this is simply my take on the poorly faring sequel to naruto, a franchise that deserves to be hailed for it's dynamic worldbuilding and major contribution into shaping what shounen has become today.

if you want me to go in-depth about any of the plot points, feel free to ask in my askbox or comments. i want to start writing this as soon as possible and the more input i get from fellow fans of this universe, the better the end result will be.