#I’d tag every character but I won’t

[spilledbeans116]

Asking the important questions:

Why is there no DBZ dating sim where I can date the MEN !!!

[creative-crybaby]

Knots

PAIRING: masseur!Geto Suguru x fem!reader

GENRE: no curses!au | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, semi-public sex/exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), brief masturbation (m), size kink, praise kink, cum eating, light mentions of/brief marking

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SUMMARY: With so much stress piling up on you, Geto was kind enough to offer you a massage. Unfortunately, no amount of relaxation can distract you from the sexual tension between you and your friend.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: MAPPA can't draw jjk characters like that and expect me not to write smut about em 🙄also: HAPPY NEW YEARS, LOVELIES <3333

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“Are you sure this is okay?” It’s too late to ask him that, but you couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble.”

Your face burns as silence follows; you can only thank whatever gods above for him not being able to see your expression.

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” he chuckles, and you copy the sound nervously, unsure if he is serious. After a pregnant pause, he adds, “I’m kidding. You have nothing to worry about.” Your peripheral vision catches him moving around you to get to the cabinet. “Consider it a favour from a friend.”

You hear the cabinet door open and shut, and you shift from your spot face down on the table.

“At least let me pay you back somehow,” you press, pouting. 

“That defeats the point of a favour, doesn’t it?” Geto’s footsteps get louder until you catch sight of his shoes from the corner of your eye. There’s another pause, this one longer than the previous one. “Are you comfortable with me unclapsing your bra?” Before you can answer, he quickly continues, “It can stay on like you wanted, I just need the straps out of the way.”

If you aren’t hyping yourself up to take every opportunity to get closer to the masseur, you’re second-guessing your decision to take his offer. Should he follow through with the action, it would only be the beginning of something far more intimate. And you know this. You knew this. Even when Geto first suggested the idea after you opened up about your piling stress and even when you foolishly thought asking Gojo for advice on the offer was a good idea. 

But you’re here now, aren’t you?

“Go for it,” you try to mask whatever uneasiness you can. Gentle fingers tug at the clips at the end of your bra, disconnecting them and allowing the straps to drop. Even with your chest still covered, you feel bare, the cool air tickling the newly exposed area. You have to force yourself from shivering.

“You still like the scent of lavender?” Geto's question catches you off-guard, raising your head from the cushion, not realizing that he recalled such a minor detail. Your silence makes the ravenette turn to you again, offering his easy-going smile. “Or have your tastes changed?”

You nod mindlessly, blinking up at him. “Lavender’s good.”

Geto hums before searching through his cabinet, taking several seconds to find the bottle he was looking for. You rest your head back on the cushion before he can catch you staring.

“I’ll be starting now.” The sound of a bottle cap opening follows your friend’s words. “If you’re ever uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let me know. Otherwise, just lay back and relax.”

Despite his gentle voice, following his order becomes easier said than done once his large hands come in contact with your back, the oil adding to his skin’s warmth. You bit your lip, the serene scent of lavender reaching your olfactory as the masseur works his magic on your stress. 

You don’t realize how exhausted your body has felt until Geto applies pressure for the first time, and you cringe. 

“Easy, easy,” he soothes, pausing his ministrations once you try to relax your body. “Wow, you are stressed.”

You allow your body to sink further into the table’s mattress when his soft laughter reaches your ears, and you give him the go-ahead to continue. Fingerpads return to your skin, rubbing heavy yet sturdy circles onto your back, untying any and every knot trapping your muscles. You can feel your body fall limp, drowning heavily while at the same time floating into the heavens as every evidence of exhaustion disappears from you. 

Still, even as you try to keep your mind blank and enjoy the moment, you can’t help but notice how much space Geto’s hand takes up on your back. It doesn’t help that they creep up to your neck, more than ready to push the problems away from that area. 

“So,” you trail off, feeling the need to fill the silence rather than embrace it, “You give these massages to Ieiri or Satoru?” 

The ravenette chuckles. “If you’d call the occasional shoulder rub a proper massage, then sure.”

A memory of the four of you at a local diner pops into your head, Shoko telling Geto a shoulder massage was the least she deserved after all the all-nighters she’s suffered through. You giggled, watching the medical student melt under the masseur’s magic touch, ignoring the twinge of jealousy that prodded your mind. 

You quip. “Not even a full-body one? Ieiri’s the one who deserves it the most out of us.”

“Guess she just never has the time for one,” he hums. 

“And Satoru?”

Geto snickers, pausing his actions. You join in on the laughter, a small swell of pride blooming in your chest. 

Your joy is cut short when he resumes the massage, adding pressure to a specific area below the nape of your neck that forces a whimper out of you. You freeze, hoping the masseur didn’t hear it. But with how his hold on you paused, even for just a moment, you couldn’t deceive yourself into believing you were in the clear. 

“Sorry,” you squeak, the warmth from your face expanding to the rest of your body. Could he feel it?

You can hear the smile in his voice. “So tense, aren’t you?”

You don’t miss the octave drop in his voice, biting your tongue. Geto returns to work, his fingers digging into your skin and untying whatever knots your muscles carried for who knows how long. You allow yourself to sigh at the sensation, your brows knitting together from the pressure without the discomfort. 

His hands travel lower, returning to previous areas with added strength until he reaches the small of your back. You try not to tense upon feeling his fingers graze the towel covering your bottom, but you can’t prevent the shaky moan from escaping your lips once his hold shifts to your hips. 

Another pause from him: another apology from you. 

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.” Your friend assures you, though you barely miss the light strain in his tone. “I’ll be working on your legs next, okay?”

You hum lightly, shifting from your spot as he passes what the towel covers. Your thoughts wander before you can put them on a leash, the pang of disappointment from the neglect of that area allowing your imagination to drift. 

Would a massage there even feel good? Geto would undoubtedly find a way, his large hands practically blanketing each cheek. And his fingers—God, they were the stars of the show, finding the spots that needed the most attention and pushing every bit of tension out of your worn-out body. You’re confident his digits would be just as adventurous in other places.

You feel yourself clench around nothing and fear the handsome man above you possibly noticing. Shaking your head, you hope those thoughts fly out like fleas. 

Geto stops. “Too much?”

“Hm?” You snap out of your daze. “Oh, no. I’m fine.”

The masseur’s hands glide up to your upper thighs, and you freeze, his hold remaining in place as he leans closer to your head.

“You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t like it,” he says, his voice calm. “I can return the favour some other way.”

Your body moves before your brain can command it to. Or rather, stop it from doing so. Hastily, you raise your head from the cushion, your upper torso following suit as it twists to face your friend.

“I can take it.” 

Silence. Too much of it for your liking. It has your stomach churning and your heart ramming against your ribs. Maybe it’s the heaviness in your body that follows you getting up too quickly, or your word choice. It could also be how Geto stares at you with parted lips, his eyes on you but not meeting your gaze.

Instead of further embarrassing yourself by speaking, you follow his focus, only to wish you hadn’t. 

Your bra, long forgotten by you, barely hangs onto your body by its straps by your elbows, exposing your back as well as most of your chest. The lavender scent is no longer soothing, the heat on your face is dizzying, and you’d want nothing more than to run out the door if only your legs weren’t practically limp from your friend’s treatment. It doesn’t help that his hold on the back of your upper thighs hasn’t budged. If anything, it’s tightened, his grip making your clit jump.

You suppose you spoke too soon once the warmth of Geto’s touch disappeared from your legs, the masseur having moved to reach for your bra straps to pull them back up to your shoulders before you could process his actions. You blink, eyes trailing up to his face now adorning a rosy hue and soft lips pressed into a thin line. He’s so much closer, his breath barely fanning the top of your head. And if you aren’t forcing your gaze to meet his, you’re impulsively glancing back at his mouth. 

With so much focus on the beautiful man, you don’t catch him slowly but surely leaning in.

The last discernable thing you catch is Geto’s lidded eyes darkening before he presses his lips against yours.

You don’t breathe. You forget to, just like how you leave your mouth slightly agape and your eyes wide open. 

The ravenette pulls away quicker than he’d leaned in, and the corners of your lips twitch downwards. His brows furrow as he looks at you with a brighter flush on his handsome face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

No. You won’t let him regret his actions, not for your sake. 

The sudden shift in perspective is alarming when, only moments ago, you feared ruining your relationship with your friend. Now, you’re shifting to sit on the massage table, grabbing Geto by his shirt collar, tugging him forward and slamming his lips onto yours. You groan at the impact, relaxing only a second later once he returns the kiss with just as much hunger. 

But he’s still not close enough. His hold remains on your bra straps, making it harder for you to wrap your arms around his neck. It’s the only reason you pull back, locking eyes with him as you place your hands on his. 

“Suguru,” you pant, chest heaving for air as your lids droop. Your following words stay trapped in your throat, the masseur having slid his hold higher up your shoulders to bring you back to the kiss. You squeak, the fervour behind his actions far more evident as his tongue teases your lower lip. He groans into your mouth, his thumbs caressing your skin as you invite him in, eager to have him even closer. 

Your hands are still on top of Geto’s, you remember, and you slide his down your arms while he’s distracted by the kiss. (With how he’s swirling his tongue around yours, you aren’t sure you can call it a “kiss” anymore.)

You pull back hastily, not missing the string of saliva connecting your bottom lips before motioning for him to look down. His sharp eyes do so, blinking out of his haze as he sees how the cups of your bra no longer cover your breasts. You don’t recall when you stopped caring about your face burning like it was on fire, the pride in your chest and lust in your lower belly now the dominant sensations as he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful creature on the planet. 

“Please,” he gulps, an unmissable strain in his voice. “Let me taste you.”

Even after the lewd makeout session, his words left your mouth cotton-dry. You can only kiss him again, guiding his hands to cup your breasts, your bra sliding off your arms. 

When Geto pulls back, his lips reattach to your skin, trailing down your neck to the valley of your mounds. He lightly pushes you to lie down on the table, making yourself comfortable before plopping one of your nipples into his mouth, the other one between his fingers. Your own hands loosen his hair from its bun, the strands falling gracefully onto his broad back. They’re as soft as they look, your fingers streaming through the midnight locks like water past the pebbles in the river. 

The masseur switches his treatment, the other nipple now teased by the grazing of his teeth while his large hand keeps the second breast from neglect. Your body feels hot, and the warmth of his mouth does little to soothe the issue. But with how much you’ve been rubbing your thighs together, you’d hardly consider this a problem now. 

Your hands remain in his hair as Geto continues kissing down your body, stopping just at the apex of your thigh to peer at you with those dark pools for irises. One of his hands removes the towel from your lap, revealing your thin shorts underneath. He tugs at the waistband, silently asking for your permission. Your response consists of your hips rising from the table, and he’s quick to shimmy your remaining clothes off your body, stealing another passionate kiss from you in the process. 

“I want nothing more than to hear every sound I get out of you,” your friend (can you still call him that?) pants, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards and his face flushed as he watches your reaction through hooded lids. You lean in, chasing his lips for another kiss. He stops you with a finger, and you hold back the whine squeaking from your throat. He chuckles. “But I’m going to need you to keep your voice down. Can you do that for me?”

You almost forgot that you’re in a public setting, even with the privacy of a closed door. Geto warmly smiles when you nod, and he lowers himself to face your crotch, helping you shift to let your legs dangle off the table. You find his eyes widening upon catching sight of your bare cunt already drooling your essence. The ravenette exhales shakily before planting a kiss on your clit, making you twitch. Your reaction makes him chuckle, and he licks long strips against your slit, moaning through his languid movements. 

“What was that about being quiet?” You giggle breathily, leaning your weight on your hands. Geto pauses. 

“Sorry, beautiful,” he whispers with a smile, tightening his hold on your thighs. “You taste like a dream.”

You throw your head back as your eyes flutter shut, his words and continued ministrations between your legs setting your body ablaze and your mind blank. It doesn’t help that he’s practically encouraging you to cage him tightly between your thighs, squeezing his head in place as he makes out with your cunt. Your hips grind into his touch, moving in tandem with his soft lips and warm tongue. 

Even with his sensual movements, you can tell he’s holding back, if his tight hold on the fat of your thighs is any indication. Your hips grind into his touch, allowing him permission to feast on you how he’d like, gripping a fistful of his locks for further encouragement. And the masseur seems to have gotten the message, his tongue digging inside you while his nose nudges at your pearl. 

Holding back your sounds of pleasure is already a challenge—warning the handsome male beneath you of your oncoming release doesn’t even seem possible, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as the sensation in your lower belly grows stronger. 

And maybe Geto doesn’t need you to tell him. Or maybe, he’s just so lost in the taste of your essence that he’s decided to wrap his soft lips around your puffy clit and suck, the tip of his tongue flicking at the nub at the same time. Whatever the case, his actions do the trick, your hold on his head tightening as your legs shake while your jaw falls slack. The ravenette doesn’t falter, pushing himself closer to your cunt, his mouth working its magic and creating sounds that would embarrass you if it weren’t for the ringing in your ears.

Coming down from the high, plus the massage, has you losing your hold on yourself. Luckily for you, Geto quickly rises from his spot, catching you by the waist and pulling you into another kiss with a soft groan. Your taste on your tongue and the need for air make you dizzy, but you bring him closer regardless. 

“‘M sorry,” he pants after ending the kiss, his chin shining with your slick. “Just had to show you how good you taste.”

You can only whimper in response, feathering kisses on his lips as you play with his hair. Geto happily lets you, his large hands mapping your torso and thighs as if burning every curve into his memory. 

“Didn’t know this came with the free massage,” you mumble against his mouth, holding back a smile. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he purrs, moving you back down on your stomach like you weigh nothing. You hear the rustling of clothing, and before you can ask him what he’s doing, you feel a weight hovering over your figure. Familiar, large hands splay open on either side of your head while muscular thighs cage your legs in place. “Do you trust me?”

Something pokes your lower back, and you almost forget to answer with the masseur’s hot breath against your ear. You lift your hips to grind against his crotch with a whimper, hoping that’ll be more than enough for him. 

Your actions make Geto laugh, and he teasingly nibbles at your earlobe. “Use your words, darling.”

It doesn’t help that he’s taken his tip to glide across your slit, collecting your juices as a lubricant. You twist your head to face him, one of your hands gripping on the cushion above you as a distraction.

“I’ve been waiting a lot longer for this moment than you know,” you confess meekly, watching as the ravenette’s eyes widen and lips part from your words. “And I don’t think I can keep it up any longer.”

You worry you’ve revealed too much too soon when you’re met with silence. But when that familiar smile and soft gaze grace Geto’s features, the nerves fluttering in your stomach evaporate. 

The handsome male presses a kiss against your temple. “That makes two of us, then.”

With only a few seconds to register his confession, your heart does a doubletake before you feel Geto lead his cock into your heat, his hand gripping yours as reassurance. The subtly painful stretch that follows suit makes you grateful for the gesture, your insides splitting in half as he just keeps going in. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling every vein graze against you. 

The masseur notices, it seems, and he whispers encouraging words in your ear, giving you the occasional kiss on your shoulder.

“There you go,” he drawls quietly, his crotch meeting your ass. “Nice and full, aren’t you?”

You exhale shakily, feeling his strong chest pressed against your back. On rare occasions, when Geto wears tight-fitting shirts, you’re blessed with the sight of his chiselled physique, especially his back, since he can’t catch you ogling. The chance to leave your mark there, like an artist’s signature on a painted canvas, is one you’ve longed for. However, with the knot in your belly ready to snap without having him even move makes you grateful for the current position. Maybe next time you’ll get to see all of him. 

Next time. 

“Can I move, darling?” Geto's breath tickles your skin. “I’m afraid I won’t last too long with how you’re squeezing me.”

The almost boyish giggle he breathes out has your heart rocketing in your ribs. Your affirmation comes out weak, but the masseur hears it loud and clear. He reels his hips back, but it’s when he buries his shaft back into you that you feel your eyes roll back once more. Your jaw falls open, a moan slipping out as he sets a languid yet deep pace. 

“We need to keep quiet, remember?” Geto shushes, his face buried in your neck. “My massages are good, but even outsiders might grow suspicious if you’re too loud.”

His soft laughter mixes with your pleading whine. “You’re not making it easy for me.”

The ravenette halts his movements, much to your dismay. Even with you wiggling your hips, he doesn't budge, and you’re about to ask him about the holdup before he beats you to it. 

“You think it’s easy for me?” The soothing lilt of his voice is long gone, replaced with a low timbre that has you clenching around his girth. “I’ve got you milking me for all I’m worth, and we barely started. What do you think that does to me?”

You feel his teeth graze your skin, making you shiver as you try to regain friction between your legs. Geto's stronger than you, much stronger, and your movements don’t make him budge. 

With a quivering sigh, you prop yourself on your forearms, and he retracts from his hiding spot in your neck. You face him, lids hanging low on your eyes and face warmer than it should be. 

“Show me.”

With a smirk, Geto pulls himself out until only his tip remains before slamming back into you. You choke on a gasp, his pace and strength relentless as his hips slap against your ass, the sounds bouncing off the walls. You can’t even call him out on his hypocrisy as you bury your face into the table, hoping it’ll help mask your cries. 

It doesn’t, of course. But Geto Suguru, ever the gentleman, carefully lifts your head by your neck and, while hovering over you, slams his lips against yours. The position isn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t find yourself complaining as he rams into you, filling you up and moulding your insides into the shape of his cock.

Your eyes don’t know what to do, from squeezing shut to crossing. At one point, you catch the door in your peripheral vision, and the thought of potentially getting caught has you clenching, your hand reaching for the masseur’s bicep and digging your nails into his pale skin. 

Geto grunts. “You trying to make me cum, beautiful?”

His playful tone makes you whine, his pace never faltering as he sneaks one of his hands under you to grope one of your breasts. The toying of your nipple, along with the male’s relentless thrusts, fuels the coil in your belly, and what does the trick is him leaving his mark on your neck. 

With a drawn-out gasp, your body stills, toes curling and tongue lolling out as your pussy convulses. You hardly notice Geto’s strokes growing sloppy, his whispered cursing going in one ear and out the other. Having him lead you to heaven is plenty for you. 

Once you calm down, though, you feel like he’s pulled out too soon. You groan, your ears catching the light sounds of him shuffling from his spot above you, followed by a rapid squelching noise that has you peeking over your shoulder. 

There, in all his naked glory, is Geto stroking his cock, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and eyes zeroed in on your figure. 

“Shit, shit—” he cuts himself off with a gasp, ropes of cum shooting from his slit and landing on the back of your thighs. The sight alone has you clenching, the need for him inside you arising once more. “Oh, fuck—”

Anyone would grow angry at a mess thrown at them. You’re no different, just worse (the one time Gojo accidentally made you ruin your eyeliner is more than enough proof—the poor fool).

 And yet, having painted your thighs white by Geto, his seed clinging to your oily (and now sweaty) skin, you somehow find yourself falling for him more. 

“Suguru,” you slur, your eyelids fluttering as you allow your body to slump back onto the table. You feel his weight disappear before hearing footsteps grow louder. Through tired eyes, you’re face-to-face with his crotch, causing you to squeak as your upper body jolts up again. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the masseur chuckles, crouching to meet you at eye level. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The atmosphere returns to the comforting one his work ought to bring, though a part of you finds yourself fidgety. The ravenette wipes away the evidence with a wet towel, and it’s enough to keep you in place and relaxed as he continues to take care of you. 

Once done, he helps you sit up, keeping you steady as your legs dangle off the table.

“I think you fucked the bones out of me,” you croak, and Geto pauses midway from sliding your underwear back up your legs. He laughs a soft, boyish laugh, the melody bringing a smile to your lips and a warmth of embarrassment to your cheeks. “Is this what you had in mind by doing me a favour?”

He pecks your nose before resuming dressing you. “No, but I’m not complaining with the results.”

You hum, and the silence returns as he aids you with the rest of your clothes. 

It isn’t until he’s slipping his boxers back on that you speak again. “You don’t give this kind of special treatment to the others?”

A witless, little joke on your part, though your tone didn’t match. Maybe it was the exhaustion that took charge or a sliver of self-consciousness that needed assurance that you had him all to yourself. Still, you press your lips into a thin line, awaiting his answer. 

“To our friends or my clients?” he inquires, putting on the remainder of his clothes. “Either way, the answer’s no.” When you don’t say anything else, he approaches you, nudging his nose against yours. “Did you want me to?”

Your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze. “No!”

Geto's joking smile eases into a sincere one, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and embracing you. 

“Perfect,” he breathes, pressing his lips to your temple. “Guess that means you’re the only one who gets my special treatment.” A pause, followed by a sheepish giggle. “As long as we do it outside of my job. I’d like to keep it, you know.”

From your position, you peer over his shoulder to where the door stands a few meters away, shut and locked but keeping you in suspense. With heat bubbling in your face, you hide in the crook of his neck. 

“You technically never finished my massage,” you mumble against his skin, your hands tracing any muscle it can reach on his back. Geto pulls back from the hug, jutting his bottom lip as if pondering.

“I suppose you’re right,” he hums before another smile breaks onto his features. “Shall we continue back at my place, then?”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[eilaafterhours]

Wedding Night [Xavier]

Content: Smut, Fast Burn, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, AFAB Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Prequel: Marital Duties

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember: I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity! 1850 blocked and counting :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You didn’t know how you ended up here. First you were having dinner with a long-time friend, then suddenly you were married, and now…

“Hah…they’re so soft. I love holding them, but I especially” His mouth descended on your nipple, giving it a good suck. “Love putting them in my mouth.”

In just a few words, Xavier had carried you to the bedroom, stripped you both down and was on you like a man starved. Well, almost starved. Someone who was starving wouldn’t waste the time to talk, but Xavier—

“Well, you let me do this whenever I want?”

“When…whenever?”

“Yeah, for example,” He (somehow) removed himself from your chest, moving up to whisper in your ear. “In an empty room in the office?” 

“Fuck!” Honestly, you weren’t sure on actually doing that, but just the thought of it was inciting enough. 

You felt him smirk against your ear. “Do you like that?” He finally moved away from you, hands sliding away from your breast and down to your stomach. 

“I wonder…” You tensed up, afraid (see: excited) for what he would say next. “Just how far I’ll reach…” 

Your whole body flushed. From your…observations…you could tell that Xavier well-endowed, but now—

“You’re gonna split me in half?!” You gasped, slapping your hands over your face. 

You did not mean to say that out loud. 

Xavier chuckled. “I doubt it, but…”

“But what!”

“I can’t guarantee that it won’t hurt, but—” He moved again, this time his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping them softly. 

“God, you’ve got to let me lay on your thighs, will you?”

“You’ve already done that.” You swatted his hand from one of your thighs. “Stop getting distracted and finish your sentence!” 

“I meant bare?” His hand returned, grip more intense. “Please?” 

“I’m about to make you do it now, with no chance of anything else after, if you don’t—woah!”

Xavier had (damn near) folded you in half. Your legs were thrown over his shoulders, and—

“Fuck—Xavier, slow down!” Your words (thankfully) fell on deaf ears. Instead, he pushed your thighs closer to his head, as he (very sloppily) ate you out. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. I’d eat you out every day if I could, can I?” 

“If I could, I’d be right here, between your thighs, and eating you out.”

“Fuck—shit! God, I’d do anything you’d want, just as long as I can have you. Even if it’s only one more time—even if this is the last time.” 

Your head become more fuzzy as the pressure built in your lower abdomen until—

“Fuck!” You know that soaked his face, but you weren’t honestly expecting his hot pleasure to make itself known on your back. You didn't have to worry about that for long, though. 

Flipping you again, Xavier made quick work of not only your mess, but his own. However, he gave you no break, as he was truly a man staved. When he lifted your hips, you knew exactly what was about to go down, so you steeled yourself, gathering what energy you could, and braced yourself for the ride. 

And what a fucking ride it was. 

You thought it’d be one and done, but after the third time, you were beginning to suspect that he was truly insatiable. He ran you ragged, but at least the decorum to run you a bath (before immediately conking out in it). As you sat in the cooling water, you wondered,

Just what had you gotten yourself into by marrying this man?

…I do not take responsibly for this man's mouth. That was all him. This mfker is almost as bad as Sampo. (IYKYK, go find it in my works lmao)

Anyway, I said I'd maybe do this a while ago, and now here it is, since they've decided to drop some HORNY ASS CARDS.

Masterlist

[marypsue]

There’ve been a few responses to/reblogs with tags on my post about DIY clothing embellishments that basically boil down to ‘I’d love to do this but I’m scared it’ll turn out bad/I’m not a good enough artist’. And I get it, I really do! I also want my art things to turn out nicely. But also...making it badly is sort of the point of punk DIY. 

Listen. We live in a world that would dearly love to charge you a subscription fee for breathing. The bastards are doing everything they possibly can to figure out how to turn art - stories, visual art, music, textile/fibre art, sculpture, crafts and creations of every kind - into a neat, discrete, packageable commodity, a product they can chop up into little pieces and stick behind a paywall so they can charge you for every drop of it you want to have in your life. 

The whole sneering idea that ‘everybody wants to be some kind of creator now’ and anything less than absolute mastery right out the gate is somehow shameful and embarrassing is a tool those bastards are using. It’s a way to reinforce the idea that only a set group of people can create and control art, and everybody else has to buy it. 

But art isn’t a product. Art is a fundamental human impulse. Nobody is entitled to a specific piece of art (which is where this message gets skewed into pitting people who love art against the artists who make it, while the bastards screw us all and run away with the money). But making art belongs to everybody. We make up songs and dances and stories, and paint things, and make clothes, and embellish them, and carve flowers into our furniture and our lintels and our doorframes, and make windows out of tiny pieces of coloured glass, and decorate our homes and our bodies and our lives with things we make and make up, simply for the love of beauty and of the act of creation. Grave goods from tens of thousands of years ago show that ancient hominids gave their dead wreaths of ceramic flowers, tattooed their bodies, beaded their shoes. Making things for the sake of beauty and enjoyment is one of the most ancient and human things we can do. 

The idea that we can’t, that we have to buy shit instead, because art is a product and you have to have the bestest prettiest most perfect product, is the enemy of joy. It’s the death of culture. And it means that, instead of whatever it is that you cherish and enjoy and value, you get whatever inoffensive (and to whom is it inoffensive?) bland meaningless samey-samey crap that the bastards want you to be allowed to have. What are you missing and what are you missing out on, if you don’t make or modify or decorate anything for yourself, if you don’t think you can because the product at the end won’t be polished or perfect or marketable enough? What do you lose? What do we lose? 

It is a desperately vital and necessary thing for you to make shit. For you to know that you can make shit, that you don’t have to just lie back and take whatever pablum the bastards want to force-feed you (and charge you through the nose for). That the bastards need you more than you need them. 

Become ungovernable. Be your own weirdly-endearing punk little freak. Paint on a t-shirt. Sing off-key in the shower or at karaoke night or at open mic night. Make up a story where you get to meet your favourite fictional character and you guys hug or fuck or punch each other in the face. Make art. Do it badly. Do it frequently. Do it enthusiastically. Do it for love and joy and creativity and fun and the spiteful joy of thumbing your nose at some smug motherfucker with a Swiss bank account who wants to track your heartbeat and location for the rest of your life in order to automatically pump AI-generated beats matched to your mood into your earbuds for a small monthly subscription fee of $24.99/month. It is literally the only way we are ever going to have even a chance to save art and our own lives from the bastards. 

So. Paint that t-shirt. 

(Also support artists where you can, and buy your music from Bandcamp.)

[pastafossa]

🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

[tsukimefuku]

old regrets and guilt ridden pasts (2) ꕥ higuruma hiromi

part 1 → this part → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you get home, only to find that hiromi is there ready to talk after your failed attempt to open up about your past. he intends to confront you on that, among other things.

tags: +18!, non-explicit! sex scenes, implied smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, little to no cursing, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, romance, mentions of death, grief, angst, fluff, hurt + comfort (a lot of comfort, this is healing).

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. this might be the loveliest thing i've written to date. thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing it 🧡 written to the sound of running up that hill (kate bush) and heart skipped a beat (the xx) - the second one is the song that inspired the main scene. as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes, but they're trying their best.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

When you came inside your apartment, there were no lights on. However, from the open door to your bedroom, you could see that Hiromi was laying down on your bed, probably fast asleep by this point.

Defeated, you left your things on the table and silently got in the room, stepping inside the bathroom to wash away all the grime and dirt (and hurt) from a godawful day.

'Godawful day' is definitely a good name for having memories of people long gone stirred up and thrown at your face, reviving your grief all over again.

You were still feeling guilty for not having talked to Hiromi about it, unable to not shut him out, yet again.

Why do I keep doing this? I'm such a jerk.

Upon finishing your shower, you came back into the room, and slid yourself into comfortable clothing before laying down beside him. Hiromi had his back turned to you, but he must've felt you on the bed, because he didn't take long to roll himself on the mattress and look at you.

He seemed upset, and with good reason.

"You could have entrusted me with your pain too, you know," Hiromi began, not giving you much time to muster up anything to say. Not even a good night.

You exhaled slowly, trying to collect your thoughts around it all. This day was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

"For you to learn my pain, I’d have to explain it, and I just... It is hard to explain exactly what happened and remembering that day," you offered. "Aside from me, Nanami is the only one who also saw it happen."

Hiromi considered what you said for a moment, but you could see the resolute way in which he softly shook his head.

"Still. I can’t fight you every step of the way for you to let me in. I’m your boyfriend."

The word lingered in the atmosphere around you.

He was, in fact, your boyfriend. You had been dating for a while then.

"We’re supposed to share these kinds of things so that we can be there for each other," he stated, a chide with a plead for understanding, while his thumb came up to press softly against your chin.

"I… I know. I’m sorry."

And you were, truly and deeply sorry, for everything. For pushing him into going along with that stupid idea of letting you inside his domain to get rid of your cursed technique temporarily, for retreating back into yourself when things grew dire, and for not letting him in when he expressly asked you to.

"What are you so afraid of?" Hiromi asked, in earnest.

You took some time to think about his question.

What were you so afraid of, after all, that you couldn't let him in — or at least felt like it, many times? 

Then, you realized.

"I'm scared that… That you will leave me too," you began, "I'm terrified that I will have opened myself up, all vulnerable and shit, and then for some reason, I'm left alone again. That's a recurring theme in my life."

"My love, in case that ever happens, keeping me at arms length won’t make it hurt any less."

You chuckled bitterly.

"Funny you should say that. I said the same thing earlier today."

Hiromi edged himself closer softly under the covers, approaching you gently.

"It takes one to know one, right?" he offered, in a kind and loving voice.

"I guess it does," you answered with a minute smile on your face.

"So, will you let me in now?" he inquired, holding your gaze. "Please."

You knew he'd surely be aware of at least the gist of the story, due to the evidence inside the envelope he never got to open before you confessed to your brother's "murder".

Still, it was different. He had to hear you say it, tell him the whole story.

So, you inhaled deeply, ready to dive in the murky lake of your past, before proceeding.

"My brother. He was…" considering for a moment, there was no word that could really convey it. Not entirely. You settled for "everything."

A sigh.

"He was… The sun to my moon. My brother was the laughter, the joy, the silly jokes, the shoes thrown around the house, the noise, the annoyance, the smell of curry in the kitchen, the helping hand, the coming home to, no matter how dire things got."

Silence.

"And then, in one night, there was… none of him anymore. Nothing, just his cold dead body laying on the ground."

A moment that felt like ten.

"I… We were twins, and a part of me, I guess… just died with him. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. So here I am, still living with this hole inside me, where some piece used to be. His piece."

Hiromi stayed quiet for a second, pulling your knuckles kindly against his lips.

"My sun is gone, and I'm drifting, untethered. I…" You took a heavy huff of air inside your lungs. Yet, you were still breathless, the ache weighing on your thorax like a hydraulic press.

"This grief is like a tar pit, and no matter what I do, this faceless monster just keeps sucking me under." 

Your last words dropped to the drum of a eulogy, the one you never got to do.

His palm descended lightly on your cheek as the night breeze gently brushed over the window. The room was dark, dimly lit by moonlight and streetlamps bleeding through the curtain, but it became remarkably quiet. Silent.

Cotton filled ears while the world stopped moving for a second, waiting under a muted heartbeat.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

His gaze softened — rather than darkened — as his lips approached, all pacify, and yearning, and empathy, and commiseration. Upon contact, your eyes fluttered into a deeper dimness, letting your mind drift around, away and back again, as he began his first attempt to tether you.

You may have lost your sun, but you wouldn't keep drifting away, not anymore.

He wouldn't let that happen.

My love…

Yes?

Eyes on me.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

Okay.

Dexterous hands pulled you back to Earth, drawing you deeper into his orbit when they fit themselves securely and unfaltering against your waist.

Warm digits kneaded over the celestial wanderer drowned in the tar pit of painful remembrance.

Your senses thickened, your pupils grew wider, and your touch found the nape of his neck, seeking the halo of his comfort.

He was always so comfortable.

Just like coming home to.

He felt at home in you, too.

Another kiss. Gentler. Kinder.

The dark against your fluttered-shut eyelids didn't steal you away from him again, though. He had placed himself firmly around you, with an inevitable gravitational pull, all understanding, warm and welcoming, with the soft press of his entire body against yours.

Your senses heightened — you smelled him, touched him, heard him, felt him. The rhythm of his breath, now softly hitched. His chest, up and down, pulsing with longing. His skin, silvery glow under the moonlight. 

Hiromi smelled…

Well, he smelled like Hiromi.

The best smell there was.

Earthly bound, finally.

His mouth, teeth, lips, all made their way to slit themselves against the edge of your jaw.

May I?

Please.

One, two, three, four beats.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as his teeth sink against the softness of your chin, crawling up to your mouth, hot breaths mixing with one another, two stardust clouds melting together.

He bit your bottom lip and let it go, then brushed his own mouth against yours. So feathery. So delicate.

Another kiss.

You lock against each other with little to no exploration — you've walked these paths before. You do so with the soft embrace of familiarity. The velvety reassurance of known lovers.

All to the gravitational beat that surrounded you both.

You grasped each other's hands against your clothes, and gentle as could be, the fabric slowly unraveled itself from your bodies, sliding their delicate way down the floor, forgotten.

Hiromi began nosing his way down your skin, but your hands cupped his jaw, pulling him back.

A pause.

Four heartbeats.

Eyes on me, remember?

A huff, almost a laugh, and the kindest peck.

Okay, my love.

His hand made its way under the duvet, all electric, and liquid, and cold, and hot, pressing the air out of your lungs. He was happy to inhale you in, open-mouthed and muddy, as you hitched and whimpered to his rhythm.

You were quick to fall apart, undoing to him, arching your entire body. Almost losing yourself.

But he pulled you back, the other hand resting over your shoulder blades, remembering you.

Eyes on me.

As you tried descending yourself, he held you back. 

This time, it would be all about you.

Gently pulling you under, his thumbs brushed against your shoulders with tenderness. His eyes flickered with trepidation and affection, as your foreheads pressed to one another. Hiromi pushed and sunk slowly into you, hooked nose snuggled beside yours.

To say he was making love to you wouldn’t be wrong, but paled in comparison to this.

He was loving you tenderly, honestly, just so you could take some of that love he poured into you and give it to yourself, filling the gaping hole left behind by an abrupt absence. The forever and always empty seat in the front row of your life.

He pleaded internally, please, may this be enough.

He was loving you so wholeheartedly, giving you all the warmth you offered to most people but yourself, that you could’ve wept — you probably did, the dampening on his cheek brushing against yours made that evident.

"Touch me." Love me.

"Yes." I do. I will.

Hiromi tried, kind and gentle, loving this grief into vanishing, willing it into non-existence. 

My love. My whole, entire love.

But he couldn't, it was engraved in black all over your flesh, your bones, and your soul.

Each kiss while he wrapped his arms around you, tucking you underneath him, was an attempt at chipping away on your armor of pain and loss.

As he rocked your hips gently, he imprinted on your skin every inch of affection you needed to soothe yourself, but you were finding it difficult to pick up these pieces and ensemble the puzzle.

You found it hard to let all your guilt go, after all. It was already an old companion of sorts.

Drinking your voice in as you tipped over the fall, he thought for a moment, could I steal her pain away?

He'd do it in a single heartbeat if he could, if only to repay you for saving him after he had gone past the point of no return.

Some days after that, coming back to this moment, you would finally understand other people's shortcomings from a deeply personal and subjective perspective.

It was hard, after all, being forgiven without forgiving yourself.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass

Reblog divider by @benkeibear

[xiuminsmygrandpa]

I’m devastated that Dead Boy Detectives for many reasons but mostly because every characters story, even the side characters is left open. If there ever was a second season this is what I’d love to see

Niko coming back as a ghost or some other supernatural being and her and Charles bonding over accepting that they are dead. Especially because in season one Charles is forced to confront both his abusive father and being beaten to death. He repressed those memories for 30 years because they were too painful for him. And Niko did the same thing with her father’s death and the mistakes she made while she was alive. Plus I’d just love to see the two of them become friends.

On the flip side I see the other focus on Crystal and Edwin also confronting their pasts. While Charles and Niko struggle with confronting their deaths Edwin needs to accept he was a living being at one point. And now that Crystal has her memories back she will have to reconnect with her past self. I’d love to see her and Edwin bonding over being from families with money and neglectful parents and fearing they deserved the punishments they received. Plus I wanna see more of them bicker like the siblings they are! Maybe we get to see more of Edwin’s family and life when he was alive because it’s basically nonexistent in season one!

Charles realizing his feelings for Edwin are more than platonic now that he knows Edwin likes him and Charles and Edwin becoming more comfortable with being closer physically. Just like Edwin had a sexuality crisis in season one I see Charles also having a sexuality crisis in season two. Luckily he has three girl friends who are all super openly queer.

Edwin going thru his hoe phase but struggling to form emotional connections with his sexual partners because he loves Charles and Charles wanting to be supportive but also being down bad for him. And Edwin potentially confiding in Charles??

Charles and Crystal trying to make a relationship work but realizing pretty quickly they’re not compatible. I do think the season ended with them being in a quasi relationship and I see it dragging out a bit longer because neither of them is ready to let go.

Edwin going to Jenny for relationship advice and her actually giving decent advice. I feel like most fanon assumes he’d go to Niko but I honestly don’t think Niko feels comfy giving relationship advice after the disaster that was Jenny’s date from Hell. I do see both of them possibly tag teaming relationship advice for Edwin. I could also see him confiding in Crystal since they’re already bonding over their shared trauma.

I also see Charles venting to literally everyone but Edwin about his feelings because he’s having a sexuality crisis and confronting his past trauma at the same time. Charles being 100000% jealous of every guy Edwin’s been with and judging whether they’re actually a good match for Edwin. He will be the bestie who’s like “I’m so happy for you” and Edwin being like “then why are you crying” “these are happy tears mate🥺😭”

Edwin and Charles finally having a conversation about the staircase and Edwin realizing Charles only said he wasn’t in love because he wanted to wait until he knew for sure. And both of them admitting they don’t feel like they’re good enough to be what the other one needs.

As for the side characters, I wanna see Jenny finally get a gf in London and become a butcher for both the living and the dead. I want tragic mic to finally become a walrus again because he’s been thru it. This probs won’t happen but Monty coming back and him and Charles bonding over their shared jealousy of Edwin and maybe hate fucking?

This is a long shot but it would be so cool to see Desire and Charles especially when Charles realizes he’s a chaotic bisexual. And Despair and Edwin because I can see them being a disastrous duo.

And lastly death finally meets the dead boy detectives!!

[cutielights]

Hello! Can i please request pure wholesome young sister!reader who has the good luck gift?and she use it to help her family out in anyway.

Hc, one-shot... Anything you want.

It's like; When reader just pat her brother's head while they play gacha game *BOOM* all they roll - temporarily - is nothing less then rare characters and weapons...etc.

Y E S

Haha, and again, I write g/n readers with no gender in mind. Bc for ages I avoided F! Readers like the plague and still kinda do

@snipersiniora @moonchhu TAG LIST

Lucky! Sibling

When all of your brothers powers began manifesting, you were really disappointed, it seemed like you hadn’t gotten anything from these “mystic weapons”

It wasn’t a big deal or anything, but it did make you feel left out. But hey, at least you’re in the same boat as Dee right? Except, he hadn’t picked a weapon and kept his Tech Bō…

But that’s fiiineeee, everything is fiinnneee, don’t panic. Don’t panic. D O N ‘ T P A N I C

Yeah… you were pretty miserable about it for a while. But hey! At least you can be happy for your brothers, that’s not so bad, especially watching Leo try to open portals.

“Nardo, I’d love it if you had a portal right about now-“

“I’m WORKING on it!” And there it was, a big portal, in no time at all.

“Wow you’re getting good at this.”

And that was just the start of everything

“Aww come on! Raph can’t jump that high!”

“Yes you can! I believe in you!” :D

And would you know it? He made it by the skin of his teeth

“Nooooo, I need it to drop an Ultra Legendary, not a stupid normal Legendary.”

“This next one might be.”

“Oh would you look at that.”

It took Donnie inventing the mystic lenses on his goggles for everyone to finally catch on to what was going on, including yourself

“You’re kidding right?”

“Dearest ___, would I use a faulty piece of technology? Let alone make it myself?”

“Yes.”

“Scoff! Rude.”

“Woaahhhh! You have to come out painting with me! Every single one will look perfect, AND we won’t be seen by humans!”

Learning how to make things more or less in people’s favour is fun, but you seem to struggle making it happen for yourself. On purpose at least

“Oh that worked? I mean, of course it did, I am amazing and super great at using my mystical powers.”

<3 thanks for the request cutie

[lively-potter]

— nepenthe ; jjk

@lively-potter

— synopsis ;

in which solaris celeste vesper, a sad girl with an unfortunate upbringing meets a man far older than her and, within his presence, her sorrow fades into nothingness.

Also in which jeon jungkook finds the sun he so desperately needed in his life.

— genre ; age gap, they both fall but he falls harder in the beginning, angst, fluff, guaranteed HEA, CEO jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta )

— disclaimer ;

2024 © @LivelyPotter

All Rights Reserved

You may not reproduce,

distribute/and or adapt

any part of this work

without my permission

I only own my original characters and the plot.

— warnings ;

violence, blood / gore, descriptive abuse, mature language, mature themes, fluff, angst, age gap. the MFC has been sheltered her entire life — and due to that, keep in mind she will have a slight childlike innocence. She cries a lot in the beginning ( and if you went though all the shit she did, you would too, as I won’t hear any complaints )

— playlist ;

— greedy ; tate mcrae

— yes or no ; jungkook

— closer to you ; jungkook

— somebody ; jungkook

— hate you ; jungkook

— lost ; BTS

— my time ; jungkook

— serendipity ; jimin

— stigma ; taehyung

— MAMA ; j-hope

— please don't change ; jungkook

— fever ; enhyphen

— spring day ; BTS

— love me again ; v

— mmmh ; kai

— after like ; Ive

— blood sweat & tears ; BTS

— lilac ; iu

— extra info ;

started ; January 19th, 2023

posted ; January 21st, 2023 ( on Wattpad )

completed ;

edited / revised ;

— extra info for those not familiar with the academy series by c.l. stone ;

I know I'm gaining more readers, those who aren't familiar with the academy, so I'll do a short explanation of what you'll be seeing from the academy!

In short, the academy series is a reverse harem/polyamory series set in Charleston, South Carolina.

( so you'll be seeing multiple men date the same women in this book, so don't be shocked lmfaoo ) most of this won’t happen until we are well into the story — but I’d hate to confuse all of you! I’d like every single one of you to enjoy and understand the story completely!

The academy ( that MFC won't be much involved or at all ) is basically a top secret organization that specializes in helping men, women, and children who are in an abusive relationship or homes and help them get out of that — most join the academy to help others in the same situations.

There are teams that work together and are basically a family in all but blood; and "family is a choice".

The men in teams are referred to as "dogs" and the female team members are referred to as "birds".

'Ghosts', whether birds or dogs, are children without much history to their names. They are priceless to the Academy.

The Academy's system works on a series of favor and financial debt. Everyone in the Academy starts out with financial debt. It's the value of the education an Academy student requires to become the best at what he does. If it was a private investigation training class or an eight-week boot camp, or you were starving and needed groceries to get through a human biology class, the Academy took care of it. Your debt can't just be paid off directly, it requires completing various Academy missions. Whatever it is, there is a price tag.

Favors though are the real core of the Academy. Favors are anything that doesn't have a price - usually family problems within the Academy that other members can't handle alone. New members owe ten favors immediately, with the maximum owed being thirty. The value of a task in favors varies depending on the task.

All Academy trials are comprised of the same parties: the whole team, plus five randomly selected members from other teams, presided over by a manager who has collected all the data. There is no age minimum for the randomly selected members, the only requirement is that they had to be past initiation and a full member of the Academy. The ultimate goal at a trial is to keep the family together as much as possible.

Each team has two leads. The first is the main contact for the Academy, they track the jobs the members go on, and let them know what jobs are available. The second is the family lead, who keeps track of all the team members, and makes sure that everything runs smoothly for them - ensuring they have food, bills are paid on time, and everyone that needs a job has one.

Most of this information is from the academy wiki site ( 'cause it's fuckin' complicated to explain it all )

but I want you all to be able to understand it enough to enjoy the story without being confused!

Most of the time, I'll explain through River and my other characters.

I hope this makes sense!

River won't be very involved in the academy, but there will be mentions and most of River's story revolves around, not only Jungkook and Moon, but River's brothers, friends, and family!

Please let me know if there is anything that you'll misunderstand and I'll explain to the best of my ability!

✨ HAPPY READING ✨

— find me on Wattpad at @/LivelyPotter! The first two chapters of Nepenthe are already out!

Also, do any of you mind giving me some pointers on how to post more aesthetic chapters or a master list on here?? I’m so lost and new to this app! 😂😂😭

[xspeter]

TIME AFTER TIME

chapter two ❣︎ cause i’ve got a blank space, baby (and i’ll write your name)

so, hey, let’s be friends

i’m dyin’ to see how this one ends

❧ warnings: none!

❧ wc: 4.9k

❧ Note: yayyy chapter two is here! don’t have much to say about this one… just that i’m happy she’s here! this one covers chapter two and half of three of the og book as well! and let me know if anyone wants a tag list! i’d also really really love to see your guys feedback on the chapters !

❧ masterlist

♥︎

The rain was a light drizzle by the time you reached Steve’s house. You pulled your hood over your head and prayed Steve wouldn’t be an asshole for once in his life and would open the door on time.

You didn’t know how, but everytime you knocked on his door he always made sure to leave you hanging for longer than necessary. How he knew it was you, you weren’t sure.

You knock hastily, and then instantly shove your hands back in your pockets. It was nearing the end of february, but there was still an obvious chill in the air.

You're expecting to have to knock again, and groan and go to do so, but the door opens swiftly and a smiling Mrs. Harrington is standing in front of you.

You didn’t know Steve’s parents too well, but every time you saw them (which was rare) they seemed to be good people.

“Oh, Hi, Mrs. Harrington!”

Her smile grows, “Y/N! I haven’t seen you in years! You’ve grown so much..” She glances at your reddening cheeks, a direct result of the cold. “Oh, come on, come inside!”

You let her pull you in, a shiver running up your spine as she slams the front door shut. “Steve’s in the living room. I’m assuming he’s what you’re here for right?”

You nod, your eyes darting across the house to soak in as much of it as possible.

You'd only been inside once before, when you’d gotten a bad scrape on your knee and Steve’s nanny had to bandage you up. Back then, you’d been too concerned with the pain to even glance around. But now, you can’t help but notice the odd.. coldness to it. There aren’t many family pictures, honestly you didn’t know if there were any at all.

“You’ve got a lovely home.” You murmured.

Mrs. Harrington smiles gratefully, her hands coming up to clench at her heart. “Oh you’re too kind.” She leans in closer to you, “honestly, i’ve told Steve a hundred times he needs to get with a nice girl like you. He just never listens.” She huffs.

You nearly snort but hold back. Steve’s mom wanted him to get with a girl like you? That’s gold. You’d be teasing him about this for the rest of his life.

“Hey, mom, who was at the door-” You spin on your heel to look at him, and you watch as his forehead wrinkles in confusion. “What’re you doing here?”

The tone he says it with makes you roll your eyes. You cross your arms over your chest, “I have a proposition for you.”

He scoffs, “A proposition?”

“Yep.”

Mrs. Harrington glances between the two of you before softly excusing herself. You watch her go, and then shift your attention right back to Steve.

“Let’s talk in the living room.”

Kate & Leopold was playing on one of those retro tv channels that only old people watched, and you couldn’t help but grin as Meg Ryan’s character attempted to evade the charm of a very British and very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh, I love this movie!”

“Of course you do.” He gave you a grin that made your stomach churn, a grin that made it seem like he knew things about you that even you didn’t. “What's your.. proposition, or whatever?”

Your cheeks flushed as you realized just what you wanted to ask him. Why would Steve help you? Who’s to say he won’t instantly go running to Jonathon and exposing you? You took a breath, sat on the couch, and said, “Okay. I need your help.”

He started smiling immediately, but you quickly shut it down by shoving a hand in his face, “I know you wouldn’t do something like that out of the goodness of your heart. So I have an offer for you.”

He pretended to grab his heart, shirt scrunching as he did, “Wow, like i’m some mercenary or something. That hurts.”

“No it doesn’t.”

He smirked, “No, it really doesn’t.”

“Look,” You forced yourself to not pretend like this had all been a prank and run with your tail between your legs, “Before I tell you what I need help with, I want to go over the terms of the deal.”

He crossed his arms - when had his chest gotten so wide? - and tilted his head, “Go on.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “First and foremost, you have to swear to secrecy. If you tell a single soul about this it is void and you do not get payment. Second, if you agree, you actually have to fulfill your part. You can’t just do little and then blow me off.”

You paused, and he looked at you through narrowed eyes, “Well? What’s the payment?”

“The payment will be full twenty-four/seven access to the parking spot for the duration of our deal.”

“Whoa.” He walked over and plopped into the chair in front of you. “You will give me the parking spot?”

You didn’t want to. At all. But you knew how badly he wanted it, and if he was anything like you, he’d do anything to get it. “That’s correct.”

His smile went big, “I’m in. I’m doing it. I’m your guy.”

“You don’t even know what the deal is.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What if… I want you to run completely butt naked through the halls during lunch?”

“Done.”

You grabbed the throw blanket at the end of the couch and threw it over your body, “What if I ask you to cartwheel naked through the halls during lunch while singing Madonna?”

“Easy. I love like a virgin.”

“Actually?” That made you smile, even though you weren’t used to smiling at Steve of all people. “But can you even do a cartwheel?”

“Uh, duh.”

“Prove it.”

He groaned, “You’re so high maintenance.” He stood, shoved the coffee table out of the way, and did the worst cartwheel you'd ever seen in your life. His legs were all bent and his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth, but still, he landed it like a gymnast. He gave you a confident smile before plopping right back down, “Now tell me.”

You coughed out a laugh you were trying to hold in and searched his face. You were looking for honesty, or really anything. But you were sidetracked by how dark his eyes were. They weren’t dark like Jonathon’s, they were almost lighter. More honey-like than anything. You thought of the time in seventh grade when he’d given you six dollars to stop crying.

Your dad and his new wife, Monica, had just gotten married a couple weeks before, and they’d decided to remodel the main level of the house. To prepare, Monica had cleaned out the closets and drawers and donated all of the old stuff. Including your moms VHS tapes.

When you had an emotional breakdown over it and your dad explained it to Monica, she’d felt so bad. She kept apologizing the whole time you sobbed. But all you could focus on was what Monica had said to your dad. “I just didn’t think anybody watched those cheesy movies.”

You were resourceful as a kid - still were in all honesty (exhibit A, your current situation at Steve’s house) - and all it took was a phone book and a phone call for you to find out where they’d ended up. You’d snuck out under the premise of seeing Robin, and ridden your bike all the way to the thrift store.

You had every penny of your babysitting money saved up, but when you got there it still wasn’t enough. “We’re selling this as a collection kid, you can’t buy them individually.”

You stared at the price tag, and still, you were six dollars short. The jerk at the store was unyielding and you’d cried all the way home. It felt like you were losing your mom all over again.

When you were almost home, you saw Steve outside bouncing a basketball in his driveway.

“Hey,” he tossed the ball into the grass as soon as he saw you, “What’s wrong?”

You remember not wanting to tell him because you knew he’d think it was ridiculous, but there was something in the way he looked at you that made you break down all over again. Through sobs you explained your situation to him, and instead of laughing like you’d expected him too, he listened. And once your sobs had been replaced with tiny hiccups, he reached forward and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, Y/N.” He looked sad when he said it, like he wanted to cry too. Then he said, “Wait here.”

He turned and ran into his house, and you stood there - exhausted from crying and shocked by his niceness - and waited for him to come back.

When he did, he’d happily handed you a ten dollar bill. You remember looking up at him and thinking he had the kindest brown eyes, but your thoughts must’ve shown because he immediately scowled and said, “This is just to shut you up ‘cause I can’t stand listening to you bawl for another minute. And I want my change.”

Your mind jerked back to Steve’s living room. Jonathon. The spot. Needing his help.

“I swear on everything holy that I will hire a hitman if you blab about this.”

He sighed, “I very much believe you.”

You had to look at something other than his face, and your eyes shifted to his lap. Which you immediately regretted once you saw the gray sweats he was wearing. So instead, they just made purchase on the spot above his head.

“So, you know Jonathon’s back in town. And I was kinda hoping you’d.. touch base with him. We were close before he moved away, and I want that back again.”

“And I can help you with that how?”

You kept your eyes glued to the wall, “Well, I don’t have any classes with him, so there’s no way for me to talk to him naturally. But you and Jon are already friends. You hang out. You invited him to that party.” You gestured with your hands, “You’ve got the connection I want.”

He pursed his lips and shifted in his seat, “So you’ve still got the hots for Byers, and you want me to take you to the party so you can get him to like you. Am I picking up what you’re putting down?”

You considered lying for a moment, before you conceded and said, “Yeah, basically.”

His jaw clenched, “I heard he’s interested in Nancy.”

God, did everyone now about that? Personal vendetta aside, Nancy Wheeler was totally wrong for a guy like Jonathon. In fact, nudging him to fall in love with you would be doing him a favor by saving him from that.

“Don’t you worry about that.”

An eyebrow went up, “How scandalous of you.”

“Shut up.”

He smiled, “You can’t think going to a party is gonna make him notice you. There’s already gonna be a ton of people there - and i’m willing to bet Nancy shows too.”

An obvious shiver went down your spine at the mention of her being there and you shifted in your seat. “I only need a few minutes.”

“Pretty confident aren’t you?”

“I am.” You had a script ready. “I have a plan.”

He scoffed, “Your plan sucks.”

You tucked your legs underneath yourself, “And how would you know that?”

“Because i’ve known you practically your whole life. Your plan involves some “coincidental” meeting,” He put air quotes above the worse coincidental, “an entire books worth of silly ideas, and someone riding off into the sunset.”

He was nearly right on the money. “You’re way off base.”

He rolled his eyes at you, clearly not believing a word you said.

You sighed, “So…?”

Steve looked way too pleased with himself, “So…?”

“Oh my god, you’re torturing me on purpose. Are you going to help me or not?”

He sucked his teeth and pretended to think, “You know, I’m just not sure if The Spot is worth it.”

You scoffed, “Worth what? Allowing me to be in your presence for a few hours? You’ll barely notice I'm there!”

“What if i’m trying to hit it off with someone?” He retorted, “You being there might throw me off my game.”

You resisted an eye roll, “Trust me, King Steve won’t be thrown off his game by little ol’ me.” You batted your eyelashes innocently, and a scowled formed on his face at the mention of his nickname. “Don’t talk about my game, you perv.”

You groaned, “Are you going to say yes or what? Cause if not i’d like to be going.”

He smirked and kicked his feet up onto the table, “I do love watching you make the walk of shame from around the block, so I guess I'll drag you along.”

🝮

“Y/N.”

You glanced up from your math homework to see Robin climbing through your window, with Barb and her freshman buddy, Max. Robin had discovered years ago if you climbed the roof of the playhouse in your backyard you’d just be able to reach the roof and slide your bedroom window open.

“Hey guys,” You cracked your back and turned around in your desk chair, surprised to see them. “What’s up?”

“Me and Barb just got done with a planning meeting for the senior prank, and we ran into Max on our way out. Her curfews not for..” She glanced down at her watch, “another twenty minutes. So we’re just killing time.”

You hummed, turning back to continue your homework as the three of them plopped onto your bed, “It was basically, like, thirty people jammed into a Burger King saying things they thought were funny. Which they usually weren’t.” Barb snorted and Robin giggled with her.

Max shrugged, “I liked that one kids idea you guys were telling me about. The one that said screw it and just do something terrible.”

Robin groaned and covered her face with her hands, “He said it was ironically funny because it was so not funny and that it'll never be forgotten.”

Barb nodded, “He’s kinda right.”

Robin sighed, “You should’ve been there, Y/N.” She said. You prepared yourself for what came next, a lecture about how you were only seniors once. She was good at those.

But when you finally look up at her, she’s already moved on and started a totally different conversation. You can’t help but feel a tad bit grateful.

Robin walked over to your closet and sifted through it, “Where’s the red plaid dress?”

“It’s buffalo plaid, and it’s on the other side.” You pointed and said, “With the causal shirts.”

“I knew the layout, but I would’ve pictured it with the other dresses.”

“Too causal.”

“Of course.” She snorted and draped the dress over her arm, “So what’d you do tonight? Just homework?”

You blinked like a deer in headlights. But Barb and Max weren’t even paying attention, so you cleared your throat and muttered a quick, “Pretty much.”

Robin hummed and came over to you and began playing with your hair, “Why is only like.. the bottom half curled? Is this a new fashion statement or something?”

You’re reminded of your journey to Steve’s house and how the bottoms of your hair had been nearly drenched by the rain. “No, I just got caught in the rain after school.” A half-lie.

She smiled, “Maybe it should rain everyday.”

“Yeah.” You pictured Steve’s cartwheel and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “Right.”

🝮

It was nearing seven thirty with still no sign of Steve. You tapped your fingers against the finding table anxiously, legs crossed over each other.

“Why don’t you just walk over to his house?” Monica suggests, craning her neck to see you from her spot in the kitchen. She’s washing the dishes while your dad stands besides her to dry them.

Your dad hums in agreement, “It’s just Steve. I doubt he’d care.”

“In all honesty,” Monica smirked, bumping your dads hip with her own, “Your tapping is driving your dad absolutely crazy and he thinks your date might’ve forgotten you.”

“It’s not a date.”

Your dad ignored your comment, “Actually, I just think Steve Harrington is capable of anything.”

Your dad and Monica began doing their bantering thing back and forth, and you had to fight back an eye roll.

They’d met in a stuck elevator, totally cliche, exactly one year after your mother had died. They’d been in there for two hours. One of your favorite tropes was forced proximity, but you liked to exclude them from that.

It was strange that they had the perfect meet-cute and seemed made for each other, because her and your mother could not be any less similar.

Your mom was sweet, a modern version of Doris Day. She was all baking and fresh cut daisies from her garden. She was the sweetest woman you’d ever known.

Monica was different. She was, I’m-too-good-for-rom-coms, and let’s-go-out-for-dinner and just nothing like the woman you cried for every night.

You glanced outside, no sign of Steve. He was nearing twenty minutes late and hadn’t even bothered to call.

Honestly he was probably already at the party dancing it out with Jonathon as he and Nancy Wheeler gazed longingly at each other from across the room. She probably waltzed over to him all sexy-like and grabbed his arm to drag him upstairs. The thought made you feel sick.

Your dad asked, “You’ll be home at midnight?”

“Yep.”

“Not a second later, got it?” He looked more serious then you usually ever saw him and said, “Nothing good happens after midnight.”

“I know, I know.” You sighed, “I’ll call if-“

“No, you won’t.” He gave a shake of his head and pointed at you, “You will just not be late. Understand?”

Monica groaned half-heartedly and squeezed his bicep, her hand leaving a slight wet mark, “Relax, she gets it!” You both shared a look of understanding, and she easily shifts his attention to something you don’t pay any mind to.

Your dad was always tense when it came to curfew, and you’d always known it’d been because of what happened to your mom. And the only time you’d ever dared to push back he’d just said: If your mom hadn’t been out at midnight, that drunk driver wouldn’t have hit her.

And, well, he was right. So you never said anything about it again.

You practically jump up at the sight of headlights pulling into your driveway, and you’re quick to attempt to give a hasty goodbye and scurry away, but your dad stops you with a look. “I want him to come inside first. He doesn’t get to take my daughter on a date without talking to me.”

You wanted to scream. “It’s not a date!”

Your dad ignored your comment, “Bring him inside.”

So, very hesitantly, you walked outside to a waiting Steve. He was quietly bopping his head to whatever song was playing on the radio, and he instantly stopped once he spotted you. He reached forward and simultaneously turned the radio down while also rolling down the window.

“Hey,” He said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You smiled back, elbows resting on the window cill. He looked confused, “Aren’t you getting in the car?”

You bit your lip, unable to make eye contact. Would he find it weird your dad wanted to talk to him? What if he thought this was some elaborate scheme to date him? Because in all honesty, that was the farthest thing from the truth.

“Um,” You took a breath, “My dad wants you to come inside.”

An eyebrow went up, and his lips parted for a second. Shock flashed across his face, but he was quick to replace it with indifference. “Uh, yeah.” He slapped his knees, “That’s fine.”

You watched with a grateful smile as he stepped out of his car, it shifting a little with the loss of his weight. You both approached the door, you honestly thought you might be more nervous then he is.

“Sorry if this is weird,” you breathed out, placing a hand on the knob. “I tried to explain it wasn’t a date and he just would not listen-”

Steve tsked, hands shoved into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it, your dad loves me anyway.”

You side-eyed him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “I’m not too sure about that one..”

His eyes went wide, “What are you talking about?”

You just shrugged and opened the door, watching with an amused smile as Steve nervously made eye contact with your father.

“Hello, Mr. L/N.” He said. He sounded way too serious, and it almost made you chuckle. Key word being almost.

Your dad narrowed his eyes at him, “Steve.”

Steve swallowed, adam's apple bobbing as he did. You made eye contact with a smirking Monica, both of you trying (but nearly failing) at holding back your eye rolls.

Your dad gestured to the dining room table, “Have a seat, son.”

Steve glanced at you, palms becoming sweaty. He wouldn’t say your dad was intimidating, no, he was more so just scary. And if there was anything Steve was sure of, it was that your dad would go to the ends of the earth before he let anything happen to you.

He remembers this one time back in the fourth grade, just a couple months before your mom died, and Carol Perkins had been picking on you.

Steve noticed it, but he just thought they were teasing, not full on bullying. No, he didn’t know that until he saw your dad storm into the elementary school lobby with a crying you in his arms. He’d yelled at the principal so loud people could hear it from across the hall. Talk about protective.

He sat at the table hesitantly across from your dad, leg bouncing as he stared anywhere but your dads face.

“What’re your…” Your dad glanced at you, “plans with my daughter?”

You scoffed, “You’re acting like we’re gonna go do drugs or something.”

Your dad glared at you, effectively shutting you up, but not without a few irritated grumbles from you. He nodded at Steve, silently telling him to answer.

Steve took a breath and straightened his shoulders, “I’m taking her to the party, which will be alcohol free by the way, and we’ll be back by midnight.” He swallowed and then threw in a sir.

Your dad leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “And who will be at this party?”

“Kids from school. It’s mostly just people in our grade. Uh, Jonathon will be there as well, Sir.”

They stared at each other for what you were sure was months, and you were starting to get antsy. Every second spent here was a second Nancy could be using to get closer to Jonathon.

“Um, this was really great and all,” you took a cautious step closer to Steve, slowly pulling him up from the seat, “But we really need to get going!” You practically dragged Steve across the dining room to the front door, hastily saying your goodbyes.

You opened the door, you were nearly outside, but of course, your dad stopped you. “Steve!” He yelled.

Steve paused, and craned his head to look at him. “Sir?”

There was a pause, and then, “If anything happens to her tonight, me and you will be having a long talk.” Could tonight get any more embarrassing for you?

Steve didn’t say anything, instead he just nodded solemnly.

“Okay, whatever, bye!” You huffed.

You slammed the door shut, finally able to take a breath. “God, he’s annoying.” You groaned.

Steve was silent, arms crossed as he stared at the ground. “No, he’s not.” He mumbled so quietly you could barely hear it.

“Uh, yeah, he is. Like it’s just a party, he’s so dramatic.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just sniffed and walked to his car, not even sparing you a glance. You furrowed your brows. Why was he suddenly acting like this?

“What’s your problem?” You asked as you followed him.

“Just get in the car.”

You did as he said, silently sitting and shutting the door. You knew he’d be pissed if you slammed it, and seeing as he was suddenly in no joking mood, you didn’t.

The car ride was silent apart from the quiet stereo, and it made you uncomfortable. You and Steve didn’t like each other, sure, but you were never silent with each other. You always had some snotty thing to say to start some petty argument.

“Are you.. are you okay?” You asked hesitantly.

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, knuckles nearly white as he gripped the wheel, “I’m peachy.”

He didn’t sound peachy.

“Look, if it was something I said, or-”

“You didn’t say anything, okay? Let’s just get to the party so you and Jonathon can.. I don’t know, make out or whatever.”

You scoffed, “There will be no making out. Not yet, anyway.” You mumbled the last part, silently smirking to yourself.

Steve scrunched his nose, “Ew, gross, please keep that to yourself.”

You just snorted, spending the rest of the car ride annoying Steve to the best of your ability. Whatever had bothered him before seemed to be forgotten about, and you were happy about it.

“Okay, we’re here.”

You looked around at the drunken teenagers outside, all of them making anything but good decisions. There was a keg stand with a bunch of boys from the football team high fiving each other, one of them you recognized as Billy Hargrove. What a total douche.

Next to them were multiple couples showing way too much PDA, and by PDA you mean practically grinding on each other.

You gave Steve a look, but he just smirked and pushed you out of his car.

You barely made it to two steps out before there was a wolf whistle sounding from beside you, and it didn’t take a genius to know who it was.

“Well, don’t you look nice.” Billy said, voice as smooth as honey. (If the honey had been grounded in a meat grinder and then dipped in glass.)

You glanced down at your dress. You’d gone with a red one to accentuate your features, hoping Jonathon would be impressed.

“Uh, thanks?”

Billy grinned, hand on his hip as he waltzed over to you. “That dress s’real nice, but…” he leaned closer into your ear, breath minty with a strong odor of alcohol, “it’d look better on the floor, don’t you think?”

You gasped, jaw hanging open at his crude comment. “You’re such a pervert!” You glanced to Steve, “Besides i’m… seeing someone.” You winced, and you hoped it sounded more convincing then you thought.

Billy laughed, actually laughed, and looked over at Steve.

He’d already gone up the porch and was talking to his friend, so he didn’t see the situation with Billy. But once he heard Billy’s sultry laugh, he turned and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw you.

He bid his friend goodbye and came over to you. “Is he bothering you?” He asked, chest puffed out as he tried to intimidate Billy.

Billy smirked, “Sorry, man. I wasn’t aware you two were.. a thing.”

Steve looked stunned for a moment, but quickly played it off. “Well, we are. So i’d really appreciate it if you’d back up.”

Billy put two hands up and did as he was told, “No need to get hostile,” He licked his bottom lip, “Jus’ let me know if you ever feel like sharin’.”

You scoffed and Steve just rolled his eyes, effectively pulling you away and to somewhere more secluded. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded, but couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “He’s gonna tell everyone we’re dating, Steve.”

Steve just shrugged, “So? We deny it.”

It was then that a thought came to you. Jonathon didn’t know anything about you anymore. Even if it hurt to admit, it was true. Which meant he wouldn’t know how good of a girlfriend you could be.

So, wouldn’t it be a good idea to show him? If you could show him that you were better then Nancy, then he’d obviously be drawn to you and want to date you. The only problem? Steve.

“What if…” You swallowed, “what if we didn’t?”

“I’m not following.”

“What if we let everyone think we’re dating? Then Jonathon would see how great of a girlfriend I could be. And Nancy, who I know you still have a thing for, will see that you’re a great boyfriend.”

Steve’s eyes widened a bit at the mention of Nancy. He didn’t know you knew about his crush on the girl. “I don’t like Nancy.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay, maybe I do.”

You swallowed, “If you do this for me, I'll let you have The Spot all the way up until prom.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. This offer was too good to be true. Get The Spot, get Nancy, all just by pretending to date you?

How hard could it be?

“I’ll do it.”

♥︎

[bullet-prooflove]

The Necklace: Kimball Cho x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@caitlinrosa@mcfriggingonagall@kniselle@aiko24k

Companion piece to Break

You still wear the necklace that Cho gave you. You keep it tucked under your blouse so no one else can see it. It’s a small gold medallion with a Korean character etched into the beaten surface. You developed a habit when the two of you were together, of toying with it, of rubbing your thumb over the engraving.

“It means protection.” He’d told you as he’d helped to fasten it around your neck. “I don’t believe in it but every little helps right?”

You’d caught a bullet the day before. The vest had held but it had scared the living hell out of him when he’d heard about from your partner. He’d come over to you place that night to see for himself, undressed you, loved you.

The bruising had been coming out by then, a purple blossom over the place where your heart resided. You’d fallen sleep wrapped up in his arms that night and he had stayed awake listening to the sound of your breathing, replaying how much he could have lost.

He gives you the necklace the next day because he’ll do anything to tip the odds in your favour, even something as ridiculous as a protection talisman.

It’s a year later and the two of you aren’t together anymore, you haven’t been since he ended things because it got a little too real, made him feel a little too vulnerable. He regrets that, that he chose to run when he should have stayed.

The two of you still work in the same building, different departments but he still has to live with that decision, he has to face the consequences of his actions every damn day.

Tonight it’s worse. It’s past midnight and he’s sitting at his desk finishing up reports because he doesn’t want to go back to an empty apartment when he glances up across the corridor and sees your desk light still on, your brow furrowed in concentration. A glimpse of gold captures the light and he realises your fingers are toying with the chain that’s looped around your throat. His breath catches in his throat because he realises it’s the pendant that he gave you, that you still wear it after all this time.

It gives him hope, hope that maybe one day you’ll forgive him, that he can make you understand it was never about you, it was his own demons he was contending with.

It's three in the morning when you bump into each other at the elevator, he’s finally decided to call it quits and you’re lagging, he can tell from the way you keep rubbing at your eyes. When the elevator arrives he gestures for you to step in first. The entire ride you stand beside each in silence, watching the floor numbers on the electronic panel as the elevator descends.  

It’s when you get to the parking lot that you realise the lights on the left side where you’ve parked your car are out. They’ve been having issues with flickering for a few days now.

“Let me walk you to your car.” Cho requests because he hates the thought of you alone in the dark. He’s worked too many cases that start with circumstances just like this and he won’t be one of those people you see crying on TV who say things like ‘If only…”

He expects you to fight him, to remind him you’re a trained CBI agent, one that carries a gun and teaches seminars on hand to hand combat but you don’t.

“Thank you.” You say to his immense surprise. “I’d appreciate it.”

Love Cho? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[emry-stars-art]

EDIT: PENCIL HAS BEEN REPLACED AND IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING AGAIN!! Thank you to those who donated, you have my ENTIRE heart for now and always

Hiii I’m back to bother you all again with technical difficulties. Long story short, if I have diagnosed the problem properly, I need a new Apple Pencil! And if I’m wrong I’ll need to replace both my pencil and the iPad itself!! But (and I am sure this will surprise no one that’s read this far) - I have no money 🥲

This isn’t quite a 100% necessary expense. I still have a handful of job applications sent out that are still waiting on replies, and hopefully I’ll have some more income sooner rather than later - but since comms and art have been one of my main sources of income this year, this is gonna be a decent problem for a little bit 😅 in the meantime I’m going to reach into the void and boost some stuff and offer additional ways that maybe I can earn some money for the month!

So if you do happen to have extra cash, some ways that would help a ton: my patreon (this month’s star tier sticker is going to be an aftg mermay design of some sort or another), my etsy, my kofi shop, or plain old kofi donations. But I also wanna be able to sweeten the pot a little, so there’s more!

I’m selling a couple original pieces over on kofi as well, including Raven Kevin, the Jean & Jeremy piece, and the og mermay comic from last year 👀

I’m taking low-stakes sketch commissions, also on kofi! For 15usd you can drop an aftg/tsc sketch request, and if you want to be tagged when I post it, leave your url as well! Additional characters for a little extra, and you can drop specific reqs - give me thoughts, ideas, meme redraws, outfits, or ask for a specific scene or specific au of mine (sure is a good month for mermaids 👀). I’d also take requests of my own ocs, but unfortunately for these kinds of sketch requests I won’t be taking others ocs.

All that being said, of course I understand if donating isn’t possible for you rn, so I’m not trying to make you feel guilty about scrolling past lol. If you’d like something free to do you can also just leave a nice comment or tag on something I’ve drawn to get my mind off the issues 😅 thank you so much to all you lovely people who support me in every way, it’s literally my livelihood and makes me so happy every day to make you happy, so! I hope you all have a wonderful time zone, and I hope you’re as excited for more merms as I am 😌💕

[questforgalas]

Code Red Training

···

GIF by mlmanakin

Summary: Kix has to give a training on the menstrual cycle to the 501st. It goes exactly how you think it would

Characters: 501st legion (Jesse, Fives, Rex, Kix, Echo, Dogma, Appo, and made up clone names), Ahsoka Tano

WC: 2.4K

Notes: This is based off another silly HC I posted the other day I couldn't get out of my head. I think the idea of the engineered clones raised surrounded by men learning about the menstrual cycle is a hilarious concept. Very silly stuff. The boys are in awe of their commander after

Tags: descriptions of the menstrual cycle and what occurs. Swearing

Tay's Masterlist

Read on AO3

Kix was running out of tasks to keep his hands busy. The informational flimsies were on the fourth variation of stacking, and he’d rearranged the educational sculptures in every possible space on the desk. He wasn’t nervous. He just could make a list of 1000 other duties he’d rather be doing than, well, this.

Kix had the 41st Elite Corps to thank for this one. The poor padawan commander of the 41st apparently wasn’t prepared for her cycle, and while she was trying to retreat to her quarters to remedy the situation, she was caught with a noticeable blood stain that, understandably, caused her troopers to go into a panic. Chaos ensued as an entire corps sprang into action to save their commander who, to their knowledge, was bleeding to death for no reason.  

There’s no official report on the matter, but the message from Insi, the medic of the 41st, simply said “The troopers involved won’t be looking Commander Offee in the eye anytime soon”.

So now, all battalions led by a female general or commander had to sit through educational training on the menstrual cycle.

A 3-D model of the uterus taunted him from across the desk.

“Gotta say, don’t exactly envy you with this one, Kix,” Captain Rex’s voice interrupted Kix’s internal battle to cancel the next session and run, but instead, he turned to face his Captain, standing at attention and offering a short salute.

“You envy everything else I get to deal with, sir?” The medic offered a sly smirk as Rex put him at ease.

“You got me there,” Rex chuckled. “Although, last I remember, it wasn’t too long ago you’d be right next to Fives and Jesse when I’d be threatening another ‘fresher duty to ward off any antics.”

Kix brought a hand to his chest, feigning hurt, “Me, sir? Antics? I’d never.”

“Just because you knew how to hide the evidence better doesn’t mean you were more innocent.” A playful shove on his shoulder broke his performance.

“It’s called a medic’s attention to detail, sir.”

Rex offered a hum in response, the fond smile on his lips softening the threat of his eye roll, and he continued to make his way across the room to the chair set up in the back corner. As the commanding officer, Rex had to give his approval on the training which meant Kix already took him through the session – The captain remained professional the entire session, but the increasing crimson of his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed – so his presence here now only meant one thing.

Rex knew who was on the roster, and he was here for a show.

“You think you’re being sly Captain, but I see right through you,” Kix accused.

“I’m not sure what you mean. It’s my duty as captain to perform surprise training inspections. It’s for the good of my men.” Rex’s face remained impassive, but the medic didn’t miss the smirk tugging at his lips or the glint in his eyes.

Before he could answer, he heard voices coming down the hall. Kix went through the same mental routine he did when he boarded a LAATi, and with one last deep breath, he readied himself for battle.

_____________________________________________________________

“Wait, wait, wait! A tube?! They have an actual tube in them?”

“Not just a tube, Hardcase. Two tubes!”

“Can females create metal?!”

“How does a baby even fit in there? Like, the same size as us in the tube? Come out of THAT!”

“FEMALES LAY EGGS?!”

The first ten minutes of the session went about as well as Kix could hope for. Characteristic of this group, they were rowdy when they filed in, most coming in from the mess hall, and many in the middle of glorified battle stories that their audience wasn’t buying. As they took their seats, they settled in, and most conversation had quieted down, but when Kix stood upfront waiting for a second too long, pointed looks by Echo and Dogma had the room quieting down quickly.

Much to Kix’s surprise, the group remained attentive and curious during the first parts of his notes as he walked them through the anatomy. Not to his surprise, all hell broke lose when he started to explain conception and gestation. When the questions erupted, Kix stole a glance to the back of the room. Rex was barely holding his composure, and it looked like Jesse’s outburst broke the professional dam as Rex quickly hid his face behind his hand, shoulders shaking.

“Alright, alright, alright. Calm down! One question at a time,” Kix barked. “First, the fallopian tubes are not metal tubes, Hardcase. It’s just what they’re called because they connect two sections. Second, yes, babies as big as we are when we come out of the tube are born through the vagina. If necessary, they can be cut out, bu-“

“THEY CUT THEM OU-“ Smack “Ow!”

“Cut it, Appo,” Echo scolded.

“As I was saying, they can be cut out, but that’s in emergency situations. And lastly, they don’t lay eggs. Not females with this anatomy. They carry eggs, and once a female hits puberty, their ovaries release one egg once a month for it to be fertilized,” Kix finished.

“Oh I can tell you allll about how they’re ferti-“ Smack. “Ow!”

“Fives, you’ve never even talked to a girl,” Echo was on a roll Kix very much appreciated.

Taking a pause before moving onto the next section, Kix swept his gaze across the room. Dogma furiously scribbled notes while Hardcase and Oddball looked like they were trying to solve the equation of an ion engine. Echo lazed with his arms across his chest, attention trained on the medic, but gave Appo another swat when he noticed his head nodding to the side. Fives still rubbed the back of his head where Echo hit him, looking like a hurt loth pup not getting to make his crude joke.

Crowded in the middle, a hand raised. Kix recognized the trooper as one of the newest 501st.

“Yes, Doma?”

“Thank you, sir. I’m just curious. What, what happens to the egg if it isn’t fertilized? Does it just…fall out?” The trooper looked around on the ground as if expecting to find a scattering of eggs around him. A soft laugh floated from the back corner of the room.

“Well, Doma, that leads us into the final part of this training. If the egg isn’t fertilized, then the female body goes through what is called the ‘menstrual cycle’ in common. It’s possibly called other things in other languages, but it all refers to the same process.”

Kix picked up the 3-D model and moved back to the front and center of the room, pointing to the uterine lining.

“When released, the egg settles in the lining of the uterus. If it’s not fertilized, the lining sheds and discards the old lining and the egg through the vagina. Then the lining builds up again over the next month preparing for the next egg,” Kix explained. Silence settled over the room and not a single trooper moved. Even Echo looked like Kix just explained a 10-page battle strategy to him with one minute to learn it. “Ok, where did I lose you all?”

Eyes glanced around, no one wanting to speak first. Finally, Dogma raised his hand.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘sheds and discards the old lining’?” he grimaced.

“Here goes nothing,” Kix thought.

“Well, exactly what it sounds like. The lining literally tears itself from the uterus, falls through the vagina, and exits.”

Eruption.

“YOU MEAN-“

“THEIR BODY IS LITERALLY TEA-“

“HOW OFTEN DOES-“

“SHEDS? LIKE, THEIR BODY JUST-“

Fives, Hardcase, Jesse, and a trooper Kix didn’t recognize jumped to their feet, yelling questions. Dogma turned pale. Doma was bracing his head in his hands. Echo’s eyes went wide, stare fixed on a spot in front of him, and troopers around the room reacted with a mix of horror and confusion. The quiet laugh in the corner of the room mingled with the ruckus. Acting fast, Kix brought his fingers to his lips and let out a whistle the patrol across camp could probably hear. Immediately, the questions ceased, but the looks of horror remained. His narrowed eyes got the message across, and all the troopers settled back into their seats. Once he was sure they were focused back on him, Kix went on.

“This is where we’ll open up the question portion of the training.”

Every hand shot up.

“Fives, if this is a joke,” Kix warned.

“No, it’s serious I promise!” Fives pleaded. Kix nodded for him to go on. “When they’re going through this men-menstrol? Mens-“

“Menstrual.”

“Thanks, vod. When they’re going through this menstrual cycle, is it painful?”

“Yes. Pain can vary female to female, but common symptoms are severe cramps. Many females experience cramps painful enough to cripple them anywhere from a couple hours to days. Other common symptoms are muscle cramps in their lower backs and legs, interrupted sleep cycle, severe mood swings, bloating, digestive changes, and headaches or migraines.” Kix explained. A room of faces grimaced back at him.

“How long does it last for,” Echo asked.

“Again, it varies female to female, but on average 3 to 7 days.”

“7 days?! They’re just…bleeding! For 7 days!” A trooper exclaimed in the back.

“Maker, I didn’t think of that,” Jesse mused. “They’re just walking around with their bodies tearing itself on the inside, and they’re just…ok?”

“Well…” Kix started. “I wouldn’t say they’re ‘ok’, but they’re expected to go through life with it. So yes, many females you encounter could be in their cycle.”

“And this happens, every month?” Jesse asked, amazement in his voice.

“Yes, once the female becomes of age, and as long as everything is regular, it happens once a month.”

“Whoa,” Awe passed over the troopers.

“Wait,” Appo shot up in his seat. “Commander Tano!”

Kix’s eyes instinctively found Rex’s. The captain’s smirk turned into a wolfish grin, and it took all of Kix’s respect for the decorated captain to not flip him off.

“What about the commander?” Kix returned to the group.

“Well, she’s a female!” Appo blurted.

“Appo, are you asking if Commander Tano experiences a menstrual cycle?” Kix asked. The captain answered with a vigorous nod of his head, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Well, I can’t disclose patient information, but Commander Tano is of the age that it’s common for females to begin theirs.”

“That..is so…fucking…cool!” Oddball exclaimed.

“You mean our Commander is out there kicking clanker butt while her body is literally tearing itself on the inside? I mean, can she be any greater?” Echo proclaimed, a proud twinkle in his eye.

“Ohhhh is that why she randomly hordes all the chocolate cakes in the mess?” Fives mused.

“I don’t think I need to remind all of you that it is not procedure or polite to bombard the commander with questions about this,” a stern voice interrupted from the back. Amusement still danced in his eyes, but the expression on Rex’s face shut all conversation down immediately.

“Yes, sir,” echoed unanimously.

“Alright, well, if there aren’t any more questions, that concludes the training,” Kix dismissed. While his brothers filed out of the room, Kix allowed himself to relax his shoulders for the first time since Fives entered.

Rex appeared in front of him, hand clasping down on his shoulder, “Not bad trooper. I think you’ll only be getting questions from Hardcase for the next 20 rotations.”

____________________________________________________________

“Hey, Rex. Have you noticed the boys have been…odd lately?” Ahsoka asked while she and Rex made their way through the halls of the Resolute,

“Not sure I know what you mean, Commander,” Rex responded.

Walking through the narrow halls, a few troopers stepped to the side to salute the commander and captain as they passed. Ahsoka noticed two things. First, their eyes went wide when they first took her in. Second, their force signatures spiked instantly with something mixed with astonishment and pride. Once they passed, she could swear she heard one of them murmur, “An absolute legend.”

These types of occurrences had been happening regularly over the last few weeks, and Ahsoka grew more confused with each one.

“I don’t know. All of them have been looking at me like the shinies look at Anakin when they meet him for the first time. It’s, unnerving,” she explained.

Rex did his best to hide the chuckle rumbling in his chest. Of course, he’d noticed his brothers completely obvious demeanor change towards their commander. Ever since Kix’s trainings finished, the whole 501st viewed their vod’ika in a whole new light – one that put her on par, if not higher, than their general.

“Eh, I’m sure it’s nothing. You know how they get, especially in between missions. Restless and bored. Start actin’ weird. Don’t pay attention to it,” Rex tried to deflect.

Making their way around the corner, Fives and Echo were spotted leaving the mess heading in their direction. When the ARCs recognized who was ahead of them, Fives bounded their way.

“Commander! Lucky running into you. Here, I grabbed an extra chocolate cake just for you. Figured you can stash it away, save it for later,” Fives suggested, giving a wink like he and Ahsoka were in on a secret only the two of them know.

“Uh, thanks, Fives. That was, kind?” Ahsoka shot a look to Rex that said “See?”, but he just shrugged her off as if Fives giving her chocolate cakes happened every day.

“Oh, and commander, I stopped by the med bay earlier. I saw they were low on high strength painkillers, so I requested that Kix put in a supply order right away so we’re well stocked. Wouldn’t want to be caught unprepared, right?” Echo added.

Rex groaned internally. For ARCs, these two were the most obvious troopers he’d ever known.

“That’s, good to know, Echo. Thanks, I think?” Ahsoka tried her best to sound polite, but the whole interaction just confused her more.

“You’re welcome! Well, we’re off to the rec center for some sparring. Rex, join us later?” Echo asked.

“Another time, Echo. I have a briefing at 1500,” Rex answered, dismissing the troopers.

Later that day, Ahsoka stashed that cake in her quarters and made a note to stop by the med bay to grab some of the painkillers before next week. She didn’t know what was going on with the boys, but she wasn’t going to not take advantage.

[natolesims]

MY HEART IS YOURS | A Sims 4 Legacy Challenge

Written by @natolesims AKA @dustbon

I did a thing! This challenge is based on the mexican telenovela "Mi Corazón es Tuyo" (My Heart is Yours) where the main character, an exotic dancer, ends up working as a nanny for a millionaire by accident. I used to watch it every single afternoon with my abuelita and since I was feeling nostalgic, this challenge came to life. Hehe.

This is a 10 gen, story-driven challenge with detailed objectives and dynamics for each generation. I hope you like it! I'd love to see if you play it, so feel free to tag me or use #myheartisyourslegacy

Rules under the cut! Or if you prefer it, here's the Google Doc~

NOTES AND GENERAL RULES

Adult themes are included in some generations. You’ve been warned.

There might be some aspects of the gameplay that might not be included in the game by default (for example, earning money as a nanny or a dancer). If you play with mods, feel free to use how many you’d like to enhance the experience! 

Alternatively, you can always make your own twist and interpretation of the challenge, its features and rules. It’s your gameplay, so have fun and do your thing!

Since the story revolves around wealthy families, I’d suggest to create / download  some rich sims or households if you’d like to have more options.

You can skip, add new or change the order of the generations.

No cheats allowed besides freerealestate or funds modification (according to some situations)

I created this challenge considering multiple aspects of the game and its DLCs. If you’d like to change or substitute something, go ahead!

Each generation is a bit specific, so I’d suggest to play on normal / long lifespan or pause aging whenever you consider necessary.

Again, have fun!!

GEN 1 - THE NANNY

You are an orphan who learned to survive on your own at a very young age. After years of working as an exotic dancer you finally managed to buy your own little house, but you lost everything unexpectedly. In an act of desperation, you asked for a large loan from your horrible boss who has you trapped in their grasp and  the money they gave you is still not enough to get by... so you signed up into an employment agency to get the expense off the ground. As if it weren’t enough, they mixed up your papers and now you've been hired as a… babysitter? Are you kidding? Welp, thank goodness you love children.

Traits: Good, Family-Oriented, Loyal

Aspiration: Super Parent / Big Happy Family

Skills: Max dancing,  charisma and parenting 

Job: Make-believe nanny and part-time exotic dancer. 

Rules:

Move to an empty house and set your funds to 0.

Alternatively: Move to a furnished home and destroy everything through an "incident" (you can cheat for this) and break all the plumbing. You can’t fix those items, only replace them after you get your loan money.

Have a night job as an exotic dancer in a local club. None of your day job clients should recognize you while you’re working at the club, and vice-versa.

If you have mods that fit this situation, feel free to use them! Save the tips you earn :) 

If you play this vanilla, disguise your sim and send them dancing to a club each night. You'll earn $200 per day if performance.

Ask the nightclub owner (your boss) for a loan of $8,000 simoleons. You’ll have to keep dancing there until:

A) You earn the money and pay your debt, or

B) You’ve been working in the club for 1 in-game year, but then you can’t keep the money you’ve earned from dancing.

Optional: Consider paying $1,000 for a renovation permit and another $1,000 for plumbing and electrical installation per story.

Start a day job as a nanny. You’ll earn $300 per family.

To do so: Meet sims with children and visit them often to take care of the kids. You can only help one family per day.

Alternatively: You can choose a particular household to be working for. The wealthier and more kids, the better.

Give your sim the always welcome trait so you won’t have issues with cooking and stuff. 

For super wealthy families: You can build a room for yourself in their homes or use the visit room if they have one, but you can’t move your sim into their households at all. You’ll still have to work at the club at night and work on rebuilding your little home.��

Befriend all the kids of the families you’ve worked for.

Fall in love with the head of family of the wealthiest household that hired you. To marry your potential spouse, you must:

End paying the nightclub debt

Finish rebuilding your house again :)

Become friends with the live-in services, if they have (butler, chef, maid, gardener, etc.)

Max your friendly relationship with each kid the love interest has. Only then you can start building a romantic relationship with them.

If they already have a spouse, make them your enemy and have the love interest divorce them. 

Have as many own kids as you can. 

GEN 2 - A GROOVY GRANDPA

You come from a rich family that cares for its wealth with fervor. You did everything your parents and your parents' parents taught you: work hard, make money, have an heir and make even more money. You always felt that working was the only purpose of your life… but now that you are older, you realized how wrong you were. Now that you're old, loades, and your family can fend for themselves, you have the opportunity to do everything you couldn't in your youth.

Traits: Materialistic, ambitious, loner.

Aspiration: 1) Mansion Baron and 2) Inner Peace

Skills: All the skills needed for the career of your choice, mixology, dancing, wellness and a hobby of your choice (as an elder).

Job: Business (Investor Branch) or Salaryperson (Expert Branch)

Rules:

Go to university and get a degree that’ll help you get a jump start on the career of your choice (options above).

University can be tedious and long to play, so I’d suggest using a mod that makes the terms shorter :)

Reach the top of your career as a young adult. 

Marry a wealthy sim out of tradition and have only one child. That’s our heir.

Have a so-so relationship with your kid and your spouse.

Your spouse should die as an adult (you can cheat for this).

Focus on making all the money you can while being an adult. If you can get fame points while you’re at it, perfect.

Once you reach elderhood, have a life crisis and embrace a new “you”.

Change your traits to: Romantic, adventurous and goofball.

Change your aspiration to: Inner Peace.

I’d strongly suggest to turn aging off so you won’t die of old age.

Enjoy life! Be self-indulgent, go partying, pick up new hobbies, make new friends, visit new places. 

Try getting the emotional mindful moodlet often.

Find true love with a humble sim significantly younger than you. 

The next heir must disapprove your new relationship.

Have a child through pregnancy or adoption with your new partner. Move out of the family home and go live with your new little family.

Focus on being an excellent parent and spoil the little one rotten until the last of your days. 

GEN 3 - THE WORKAHOLIC

Your father lost it and messed up his life's direction... and stained the family’s values. You carry your last name with pride and you’re determined to put it back to its former glory by doing what you do best: working. You will rescue the company that your father nearly ruined, return wealth and good fortune to your family and lead an exemplary life, whatever it’s the cost. Your children constantly complain about how absent and cold you are, but they are too young to understand the importance of your priorities. They will thank you one day.

Traits: Proper, Ambitious, Perfectionist.

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Skills: All the skills needed for your career only. You’re not interested in anything else.

Job: Business (Management Branch)

Rules:

Always excel as a student.

Don't have a social life.

All sims you meet (except the future spouse) must stay as acquaintances.

Always turn down any kind of social invite.

Never throw a party of any sort.

Never celebrate a birthday, not even your own. 

Go to university and study communications at U-Brite. At uni you must:

Enter the secret society.

Enter the debate guild.

Graduate with honors.

Meet the love of your life during your time as a student. Your spouse must:

Have good traits only.

Belong to a wealthy family.

You can only marry if you have a full romance bar.

Also: no woohoo before marriage!

You two must live in the family home / manor. Refurnish it with  expensive items, fine art and decorations if it isn’t.

Have a butler. If you play with mods, also have all sorts of live-in services. If not, hire a scheduled gardening, maid and nanny service via the phone.

Don’t have any kind of pets. Not even fish.

Fill up your sim's fun need by doing "boring activities". For example:

Only listen to the talk radio and classical music stations.

Only watch the news and the weather channel.

Don't tell jokes.

The only game your sim can play is chess.

Only read non-fiction or skill books.

You get the idea by now :)

Dedicate your entire existence to your career, completing your aspiration and your loving partner.

Earn fame points through situations or interactions related to your career only.

Get the workaholic lifestyle and live accordingly.

Have as many children as you can with your spouse. After the last family slot is taken, your spouse has to die unexpectedly (you can cheat for this)

After your spouse's demise, change two of your traits to: Hot headed and gloomy.

Have a rocky relationship with all of your children:

Try to limit your interactions with your children. Have the helping sims (butler and nanny) take care of them.

Develop the strict family dynamic with every single child.

All of your kids must be top students and gain the good manners character value trait.

Your kids must have a tight schedule: School, after-school activities, homework time, limited playtime, music lessons (for girls), sport lessons (for boys) and early bedtime. If they develop a dislike for an activity, accept it but they’ll have to do it anyway.

Marry a co-worker as an adult, but do not love them. On the contrary to your loving spouse, they must only have negative traits. Bonus points if they have the hates children trait.

Start a recurrent affair with one of your service sims.

The next generation starts when the heir is a teen. 

GEN 4 - THE INDECISIVE ROMANTIC

You grew up in a large family that seemed more like a military company. Being the smartest of all your siblings, your father always sought to train you in such a way that you would take his place when time comes, but you don't want to be remotely like him. You are still young and you have enough time to change the course of things. You want adventure, you want love, you want happiness and wealth… but the pursuit of hedonism may not help you make the smartest decisions.

Traits: Genius, bookworm, snob

Aspiration: 1) Nerd brain 2) Serial Romantic

Skills: Logic, writing, research and debate, fitness

Job: Law career (Private Attorney Branch)

Rules:

Be the typical nerdy teen. Embrace the stereotype at its fullest.

Always excel in school 

Complete the nerd brain aspiration as a teenager.

Frequent intellectual lots like libraries and museums.

If you can, become a valedictorian and/or achieve early graduation.

Start a romantic, toxic relationship with the first sim who is constantly rude to you.

Your sim has to still be a teen.

Break-up and get together again frequently.

Enter the U-Brite Communications program as your parent did, but drop out shortly after. You want something else in life. 

Improve your physical appearance and start working out. After your makeover, change your bookworm trait for the self-absorbed trait. 

Move out on your own, live the party life and date around! But keep coming back to your toxic ex.

Don’t have any source of income after moving out.

Have an accidental pregnancy with your ex, but don’t take responsibility for the baby. 

Have another accidental pregnancy with one of your affairs, and also don’t take responsibility. 

This other sim must have the good or cheerful trait.

After spending all your simoleons on parties and vice and, go back to the family home and enter the Law career to become a private attorney. 

After getting your life in order again, look for your previous partners and decide to take care after the kids they had with you. 

Don’t have any more kids after that.

Start building up both romantic relationships again, but keep them in the shadows from one another. Never make a final decision.

Write books as a hobby, but only publish: non-fiction, poetry and biography books.

The least disciplined child will be the heir.

GEN 5 - THE ADVENTURER

You grew up in a millionaire family that has everything you could imagine, but somehow you always felt like you didn't belong to it. There is a certain indomitable spirit of adventure within yourself and when you came of age, you decided to fully embrace it. Your parent disapproves and would rather have you not prefer an unstable life of artistic adventure to the safety of a well-established profession... but he has no place to tell a you a thing, knowing the kind of life he led in his young years. Leaving all the responsibility of the house and the family business to your half-brother, you packed your bags and took the first plane to the jungle.

Traits: Active, creative, loves outdoors.

Aspiration: 1) Jungle Explorer 2) Mt. Komorebi Sightseer, 3) Beach Life and 4) Archaeology Scholar.

Skill: Selvadorian Culture, Archaeology, Fishing, Fitness, Singing and Guitar.

Job: Freelance photographer.

Rules:

Always be a laid back, cool type of person. 

Frequent museums and parks as a kid and teenager.

Once you graduate high-school, travel the world to become a nature photographer! Think of a globetrotter-ish kind of generation:

1: Selvadorada. 

Build a luxurious villa as your jungle home (you’re still a millionaire, so no problem with this). You’ll frequent it a lot during the generation.

Complete the Jungle Explorer Aspiration.

Once you reach level 2 of the photography skill, you can travel to the next destination:

2: Mt. Komorebi

Complete the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer Aspiration.

Visit each festival.

Once you reach level 3 of the photography skill, you can travel to the next destination:

3: Sulani

Complete the Beach Life Aspiration

Max the fishing skill.

Max the photography skill.

Be a flirt and have multiple lovers across the worlds, but find true love with one in particular.

Optional 1: have this sim travel with you as a companion.

Optional 2: have your half-brother fall in love with them as well.

Complete 3 collections of your choice.

Become famous by publishing your photographs.

After ending your stay in Sulani, your half brother must die (you can cheat for this). You’ll have to go back to the family home and take care of the generational fortune.

Keep traveling often to Selvadorada, the world you like the most. Work on completing the Archaeology Scholar Aspiration during your short visits. 

Decide to settle down with the sim you fell in love with and form a family of your own. 

Have lots of children.                                     

GEN 6 - THE STAR

You don't understand the tendency of past family heads to get rid of a life full of all sorts of comfort. Dirt? Ew. Luxury and fame are everything to you, but since you were young you had a problem with your appearance and awkward personality. But you know what? That is going to change. You are not interested in a boring company or looking for love: you just want to shine as bright as the sun.

Traits: Self-absorbed, materialistic, high-maintenance.

Aspiration: World-Famous celebrity.

Skills: Charisma, mischief, acting.

Job: Social Media (Internet Personality), Actor (optional)

Rules:

Be the “ugly duckling” of the family while growing up. 

Have the socially awkward trait as a teen.

Have your first puppy love as a pre-teen / teenager, but be heartbroken. Never believe in true love after that. 

Have a bad relationship with every single family member. 

Move out on your own to a luxurious home as soon as you become a young adult and cut ties with the rest of the family, previous friends and acquaintances. You’re on your own now. 

Have a radical image change after becoming independent.

Enter and reach the top of the Social Media career as an Internet Personality. Only then you can enter the Actor career if you wish. 

You can only actively work as a Young Adult.

Start building your own fortune through fame and gold-digging. 

Have an accidental pregnancy and use it to your convenience. Keep the baby. 

Never develop the parenting skill

Have a bad relationship with your kid

Mold your child to your image. They must be conventionally beautiful.

Your child must be well educated and skilled, but have terrible character value traits.

If you marry, become a widow everyone shows their sympathy to. Keep being a gold digger after that and never remarry.

Quit your job(s) right after entering the adult lifestage and spend your fortune as if there were no tomorrow. 

The next gen starts when the heir becomes a young adult. By then, you must be broke and have lost all your fame.

GEN 7 - THE HOMEWRECKER

You always meant an instrument for your parent, even before you were born. Thanks to them, you are an expert in the art of manipulation, seduction and performance. You are beautiful, intelligent, cold and calculating. Such confidence and mettle has carried you far from childhood, but now that you're an adult, it's time to think big and not make the same mistakes as your stupid parent... even if it means carrying them around for the rest of your life. Now, time to choose a victim to pay the family debts and live a perfect life.

Traits: Evil, hates children, hot-headed.

Aspiration: 1) Drama llama, 2) Mansion Baron

Skills: Charisma, logic, writing, acting, research and debate.

Job: Salaryperson (Supervisor Branch)

Rules:

Be the perfect, spoiled brat your mother made you since childhood. 

Always have a pristine image, even if you’re broke as hell. People doesn’t need to know your family is in bankruptcy

Become the unreachable, popular meanie in highschool and embrace those vibes throughout teenagedom, but never start a serious relationship. 

Complete the Drama Llama teen aspiration.

Move out on your own as a young adult, but have the previous heir move in with you shortly after to live at your expense. Your parent:

Cannot get a job or have any source of income of any sort.

Has to have the slob trait (you can cheat this),

Has to follow every whim related to their personality, and

Has to spend $5,000 simoleons by the end of each week. If you don’t have the money, add it to a “debt” list you must pay. 

Enter the salaryperson career (Supervisor Branch)  and reach the top of it quickly as a young adult. As soon as you reach it, get relaxed and don’t pay much attention to your career anymore.

Optional: get an university degree that’ll help you get a jumpstart. If you chose to do this, you’ll have to study at home, ask for all the scholarships you can and graduate with honors (of course).

If you get the workaholic lifestyle, go to coaching to get rid of it. 

You must choose only one ultimate spouse candidate.

They must be attractive (to your sim), successful and ridiculously wealthy.

They must be already in a serious romantic relationship of any sort with another sim.

Bonus points if they have at least one child. 

Once you decide on a love interest, develop one-sided feelings for them and do everything in your reach to gain their favor, but they should never love you.

Get to marry your love interest one way or another. Move your sim and the previous heir into their home and enjoy your new fortune :))

Once you marry, adopt your spouse’s last name.

Have only one own child: the result of a one-time affair with another sim.

Use mean interactions only with every child you meet (even your own), any “low-class” sim you meet and service sims. 

Gain the Twisted Heart reward trait.

GEN 8 - THE BEAUTY 

You've lived in a bubble all your life. Despite having a lousy relationship with your parent, they have given you everything you wanted and more: a good education, luxury, travels and gifts. You have always tried to fulfill their expectations and desires... until you met the love of your life in someone you would never have expected. After a terrible argument with your family, you decided to run away with your love and start a new life from scratch. The plan sounded good in your mind, but then you realized that you don't know how to do anything other than being cute.

Traits: Good, Clumsy, Romantic

Aspiration: 1) Admired icon 2) Soulmate 

Skills: None in particular

Job: None in particular

Rules:

Be the stereotypical perfect, beautiful and shallow rich kid. 

Have a bad relationship with your parent, but respect their authority.

Try not to do activities that make you gain "useful" skills (or any skill). Focus only on having fun and enjoying life.

Complete the Admired Icon aspiration in your teenage years.

Have your parent arrange your future marriage with a wealthy sim and start a forced relationship with them, but reject their romantic advances often. 

Enter university in a conventionally well-respected degree program. Become engaged with your current partner at the same time.

Find true love with a service sim.

They can be either one of your household's employees or a NPC like the mailman, a street vendor, a mixologist, a firefighter, etc.

They must be poor.

They must have the creative trait.

They must be a single parent. 

Keep your affair with the service sim in secret until a family member, a close friend or your partner discovers you. Only then you can break your current engagement and escape to live with the love of your life.

Move your sim with their new partner and their child, but bring no simoleons or material goods whatsoever in your inventory.

You can only move to a Needs TLC starter apartment or a starter home with the Gremlins and Grody lot traits. 

The lot or apartment cannot be pretty when you first move to it.

You cannot move out of it on this gen.

Drop out of university but don't get a job. Your spouse must work as a starving artist (Painter career level 1) and don't let them get promoted. 

If you play with mods, keep them in the service career they were when you met them.

Spend all the household's funds on useless things.

Optional: Everytime your sim breaks anything (even the plates while washing them), cheat -$100 simoleons of the household funds.

Get a job only when all your services are cut down after not paying your bills.

You should go through all the basegame careers before deciding on a permanent one. You may start with part-time jobs, then full time careers. 

After you decide on a career to stay, focus on developing the necessary skills for it. When you reach level 3, your spouse can finally work on their artistic career.

If the spouse sells their art, they can't gain fame out of it.

Have only one own child after your household has a stable income. 

GEN 9 - THE NONCOMMITTAL ENTREPRENEUR 

In your family there was never a lack of love, but money definitely was a problem. Your parents made an effort to give you everything that was within their reach, but the truth is that you could never shake off the itch of having something more… something “big”. The thing is that working seriously is not your thing. Never has been, in fact. However, you have brilliant ideas that you just have to materialize with the right investment. But first, let’s go to the party everyone’s talking about.

Traits: Lazy, party animal, noncommittal

Aspiration: 1) Live Fast 2) Party Animal

Skills: Juice fizzing, dancing, entrepreneur skill.

Job: Odd jobs

Rules:

Be a terrible student and surround yourself with lots of friends.

Complete the Live Fast teen aspiration. Then, drop out of high-school but keep living with your parents.

Gain the Irresponsible character value trait.

Earn money only through odd jobs or in-game activities that doesn’t require "intellectual" skills (like writing, programming, painting, etc.), but have Juice fizzing as your main interest.

Frequent party lots every single night like bars, clubs and lounges and spend at least $500 simoleons each night on bar drinks.

Accept every party invite you get, no matter who they are or what your sim is currently doing. 

Meet a love interest in one party night and start a relationship right away, but don't commit to it:

Never take the initiative to go on dates with them, only accept their invitations and make them pay for everything.

Be unfaithful.

Ask them for loans and crash their place frequently to take care of your needs (eating from their fridge, using their shower, etc).

Only visit them to woohoo if your fun levels are low.

Have unprotected woohoo often (try for baby instead of regular woohoo or use mods for this)

Have an accidental pregnancy with your partner and get excited by it. 

Once the baby's born, you'll have to take care of them and your partner will have to dump you and lose all contact. You can then move out of your parents' house.

Now that you're a parent, take your side hustles more seriously and even get a part time job if you decide to, but keep partying at nights and spending most of your earned money on vice.

Don't have any more kids and try to nurture your child as much as you can.

Have an unexpected death while the heir is a child.

GEN 10 - THE (UN)LUCKY MIXOLOGIST

When you were little, you listened with amazement to all kinds of stories that your father told you about the adventures and misadventures of your ancestors. That’s why you have always been a dreamer who wants to achieve success and, above all, to know true love, but that is something that only happens on TV. It seems life had other plans for youm and the only thing left is to work hard and try to move on with a smile.

Traits: Good, foodie, music lover.

Aspiration: 1) Master Mixologist 2) Soulmate

Skills: Mixology, DJ mixing, cooking and baking.

Job: Culinary career (Mixologist Branch)

Rules:

Since you'reunderage, move into a shelter or an orphanage.

Once you become a teen, dropout of high school and earn money through odd jobs and buy a dj mixing station. Only then you can start working in secret as a freelance dj in local clubs and bars:

To do so, create an alternative persona or character your sim must disguise as whenever they're on a show. 

Save all the money you earn through tips.

Don't gain fame.

Once your sim becomes a young adult, join the culinary career and help out at the shelter/orphanage until you have enough money to move out on your own, but keep presenting as a dj each night.

Buy and move to the starter home the founder fixed.

Present yourself regularly at the bar your founder worked at as a dancer, and also work as a hired mixologist some nights. You'll earn $300 per night.

If you have mods that adjust to this, feel free to use them!

Have 10 failed relationships throughout your Young Adult lifestage. Give up on finding love after your last relationship.

The relationships will only count if you get to become boyfriends or more and get to break up, divorce, cancel engagements or separate through other circumstances. 

Once you become an Adult, fall madly in love with a sim you meet in one of your work nights. This sim:

Must be an elder.

Must be visiting the lot you're at for the first time.

Must be super rich. 

Start a sugar-ish relationship with your love interest. Have them gift your sim money ($1,000 simoleons) everytime they see each other. You decide if they keep, donate or sell the gifts.

Break up with the love interest, but get back shortly after and get into a serious relationship.

Only then, start working on the soulmate aspiration with this sim.

Move in with the elder sim only when you have a full romance bar.

If the elder sim has family, make them disapprove of your relationship together.

Wait a minute… isn't the story kind of repeating itself?

You decide what happens next ;)

[rayxdrpepper]

The problem with Hazbin Hotspot.

Hi everyone. I’m here to discuss more of a serious issue with AI and the Hazbin Hotel series. Today, I’m going to talk about Hazbin Hotspot.

If anyone doesn’t know what Hazbin Hotspot is, Hazbin Hotspot, it’s basically a channel featuring the Hazbin Hotel characters and is known for posting videos like shower thoughts with characters, unethical life hacks, you name it.

There’s nothing wrong with that, right? It’s just a channel posting about Hazbin characters and talking about the above mentioned topics!

That is where you are wrong.

Controversy sparked about Hazbin Hotspot for their usage of AI. Basically, the actor’s voices are AI generated. Their voices were stolen just to make content.

Amir Talai (voice of Alastor in the series proper) stated on Twitter he’s not comfortable with his voice being used for AI. So what did the person behind the Hotspot do? He stopped using Amir’s voice. HOWEVER, he resorted to using Alastor’s pilot voice. Alastor was voiced by Edward Bosco in the pilot.

Edward also stated he is never okay with those using his voice for AI purposes for characters he has played.

Also, it’s not just Alastor’s voice being stolen. But Keith David, Blake Roman, Christian Borle, Alex Brightman, and Jessica Vosk’s voices are also stolen for this. Hotspot also began to tag Vivziepop asking her if she can use the voices, to which Vivziepop hasn’t responded and it seems clear that she won’t anytime soon. Note that Vivziepop is also against using AI. It is absolutely terrifying to hear your voice stolen by AI, the thing you use every single day.

The person behind Hotspot uploaded a video titled “The Future of Hotspot”. He stated that he will not be hiring voice actors and continue to use AI, which disrespects the voice actors of Hazbin Hotel. He also stated that he will be focusing more on Hell’s Hotspot, a thing which will include original characters.

He also doesn’t give a shit about Hazbin Hotel or anything relating to it, this is just for him to make money. If they don’t want their voices used for AI purposes, then don’t do it, it’s not hard.

If you would like a bit of more information on the situation, I’d recommend checking out AyyLmao’s video titled “The Hazbin Hotel Voice Actor AI Controversy Explained”.

There’s two channels that I recommend, they are 100% voice acted and have no AI usage:

-Hazbin Hotel - VRChat

-Reed Donat

tl;dr - RESPECT VOICE ACTORS AND DON’T USE AI.

[peonierose]

So it’s that time again. I’m doing a cleanup of my tag lists. To even say that I have more than one tag list is insane 😅 But I’m very grateful for that, I really am.

But before I do that I just wanted to take a quick moment and say thank you to everyone who’s ever given one of my stories a chance. For taking the time to leave a like, a reblog or a comment. It means the absolute world to me and I appreciate it 🩷🌸

So I will tag everyone I have on my current tag lists. So let me know if you want to be added, removed or even moved to a different tag list. There are absolutely no hard feelings 🥰 Tastes change and people have less time to read and reblog stuff (myself included).

Please reply by March 17th the latest. If you feel uncomfortable reblogging this post you can reach out through dms. That’s absolutely okay too 🥰

Lots of love

-PR

My current tag lists are down below and if you don’t see yourself on any of my lists but would like to be added don’t hesitate to reach out to me 🌸🥰

Perma tags:

@annieruok94 @potionsprefect

@socalwriterbee @cariantha

@secretaryunpaid @inlocusmads

@aallotarenunelma @jerzwriter

@karahalloway @a-cloud-for-dreams

@mysticalgalaxysstuff

@starrystarrytrouble

@quixoticdreamer16 @princess-geek

@genevievemd @issabees

@stars-are-within-me

@jamespotterthefirst

@the-mrsreigns @thosehallowedhalls

@openheartforeverinmyheart

@amortentiaopenheart @alj4890

@surrrenderronniebabe1 @annfg8

@eleanorbloom

@zealouscanonindeer

@kristinamae093

Open Heart only:

@liaromancewriter @lilyoffandoms

@mvalentine @a-crepusculo

@zahrachoices @the-pale-goddess

@takemyopenheart

@trappedinfanfiction

TNA:

@sfb123

-The Nightbound tag won’t be active for the foreseeable future since my Nightbound stories are taking a hiatus.-

Crimes of Passion

Immortal Desires

Currently I don’t have a tag list for neither CoP nor ID but I’d like to add them in the future (I don’t know how much I will write for these two books but in case you’re interested I can put you on that list and if I post something I’ll tag you in it).

Again thank you so much for every little dahs of love you showed to me, my stories and my characters 🩷