#Appease-mint

[mypvz2]

[rainyrindou]

hanma fingers in my mouth save me…fingers in my mouth…save me hanma fingers in my mouth

[mediocredoots]

I love the idea of otogi trying to make amends after accepting Yugi’s friendship in the ddm arc. So he tries to hang out with him more one on one but atem is still rightfully pissy that he, yugi, & jounouchi almost died. Yugi might’ve forgiven him ( esp so early on ) but atem hasn’t. So all I can imagine is atem mildly inconveniencing otogi or lightly bullying him.

Otogi & Yugi happily chatting about games/fashion, walking side by side & atem takes over for a sec to trip otogi just for the hell of it lmao.

Or they go to burger world together & atem switches places to order otogi a burger with an insane amount of pickles just to watch him take a bite & have a look of disgust lol

If otogi didn’t know about the millennium puzzle this would confound him

[callmelola111]

K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot

 ✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   bull believer- wednesday

synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k

      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)

a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola

In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.

Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3. 

December 31st, 9:00pm:

Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no. 

“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.

“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.

“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.

December 31st, 9:30pm:

A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew. 

You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.

“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints. 

“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it. 

December 31st, 9:45pm:

Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.

You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?

December 31st, 10:15pm:

Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.

“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.

“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.

“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”

“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”

“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.

“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”

“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”

“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger. 

December 31st, 10:30pm:

You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow. 

“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.

“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.

“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”

Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay” 

“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.

“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.

“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.

“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.

“Thank you.” was all you could say. 

“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?

“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.

December 31st, 11:00pm:

You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.

“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.

“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”

“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone. 

“What about… sad?”

Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth. 

“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.  

“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”

“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.

“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.” 

You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”

“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?

“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.”  Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.

“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”

“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.

“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”

Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”

Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”

“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.

“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”

Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”

“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.

December 31st, 11:15pm:

The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.

“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.

“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”

Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.

“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.

“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.

“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”

“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat. 

“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.

“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock. 

“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.

“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes. 

“For what?”

“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.

Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts. 

“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”

“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”

“Yes. Blunt.”

December 31st, 11:30pm:

And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.  

“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.

You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?” 

“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”

“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl. 

“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw. 

“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”

A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”

“What? I’m being so deadass!”

“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.

Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”

“And what does she do?”

“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.” 

You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”

“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.

“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.

“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”

“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.” 

“Fineee.” you drag out.

December 31st, 11:50pm:

Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.

As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy. 

“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.

“Good it’s ugly anyways.”

“Fair point.”

“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”

“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark. 

“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted. 

“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own. 

You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”

Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”

You placed a soft peck.

Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck

Another supple kiss.

“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.

FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.

January 1st, 12:01am:

“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.

The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.

“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.

You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”

“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!” 

That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.

“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.

He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.

But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.

Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.

“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged. 

“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.

“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”

January 1st, 12:15am:

Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.

“Els?”

“Yeah?” she answered softly. 

“Can you stay?”

With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.

✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

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@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

Insatiable Girl (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer decides to explore a particular aspect of his girlfriend’s psychology. Request: Reid notices that the reader has a bit of an oral fixation and decides he wants to study it with her a bit further. Couple: Spencer Reid/Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer!POV, oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, body worship (male), fingering, oral fixation Word Count: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

There have been many theories about oral fixations. Although most only know about Freud’s thoughts on the matter, the truth is that most animals experience a period of youth where they seek out something to satisfy their need for self-soothing.

It makes sense. Our mouths are not only how we nourish ourselves, but also how we express our personality. How much of human courtship is performed with the mouth? From a smile to something more… salacious.

When I’d invited my girlfriend to move in with me, I’d already been aware of this aspect of her psychology. It would’ve been difficult to miss. But for all the pleasure it provided, it also brought with it the sweetest torture. Because her fixation persisted even when we were in public.

How many hours had I sat and watched as she worshiped something that would never be capable of appreciating her efforts? How many times had I sat and counted bubblegum bubbles or listened to the muffled clacking of mints on her teeth?

Don’t even get me started on lollipops.

But that day, as we sat in our respective spaces in the living room, she had nothing but herself to use to appease that ever-demanding compulsion. Each time that I’d looked over, I would watch as her jaw twitched while her teeth worked the supple skin of her lower lip.

My heart raced, skipping a beat each time that I watched it slip free. I could feel the slickness of her lips, the pillowy, malleable softness of her. I could taste the sweetness of the firm muscle of her tongue.

My thoughts ran wild with fantasies that I’d had a million times before. But that day, one had made its way through to the forefront.

I stood without warning, but she didn’t seem to mind. At that time, she was too engrossed in chewing idly on the tip of her thumb.

She didn’t look up until I was right in front of her. Even then, she just opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing.

Like a baby bird opening her mouth and pleading for me to provide her what she needed. Mere seconds after she’d removed her own thumb, her eyes began pleading, ‘Give me something more.’

At first, I had to say no. I had my own cruel desires that I’d needed to indulge. I wanted to watch her crumble beneath me until there was no greater satisfaction than giving me mine.

My hand cradled her jaw to stop her from chewing on her lips. Her body rocked forward, her neck craning to be even an inch closer to what she wanted most.

But I wasn’t a complete sadist. I wouldn’t leave her completely unsatisfied. The next time she opened her mouth to beg, I pressed my thumb against her bottom lip. Within seconds, she’d accepted it. At first, she was gentle. She wrapped her tongue around the digit and let out a soft breath from her nose.

Soon enough, though, her desire got the better of her. With both her hands on my hips, she pulled my entire thumb into her mouth. She audibly moaned, as if I had given her the greatest gift.

But I hadn’t. Not yet.

She knew that, too. That’s why she wasted no time unbuckling my pants, all while her mouth refused to relent.

Her mouth had been so warm, so soft. Everything about her was. It set my blood on fire in the best possible way.  I listened to the melodic sound of belt buckles and buttons and indulged in the overwhelming feeling of her lips wrapped around my thumb.

I groaned when I finally felt my pants slacken around my now pressing erection. At the same time, I fought my self-preserving instinct that told me to look away. I knew it would be too much to see her, but I did it, anyway.

That insatiable, darling girl released my thumb from her mouth with a satisfying ‘pop.’ She gasped for breath, puffing hot air against wet skin as she climbed off the couch and dropped to her knees like she was preparing a prayer. She used both hands to pull my erection free and then… she waited.

There was a quiet moment— a silent blessing for what she was about to receive. She closed her eyes as she pressed a small kiss against burning skin.

I couldn’t resist her much longer. She was on her knees, but I was the one begging for salvation.

“Please,” I whispered without even thinking.

Her giggles filled the silence. It was a beautiful sound.

Her mouth was an even more beautiful feeling.

Even though it made my racing heart weak, I looked down at her through half-lidded eyes. I watched as I disappeared between her lips. Inch by inch, she accepted me into the warmth of her.

It was act of love. It was an act of worship.

But any pleasure it brought me paled in comparison to the ecstasy that slipped from the space between her lips.

Truly, she had never looked happier than when her mouth was full. She hummed so contentedly against me that I almost forgot to breathe. I was drunk on her worship, the love that she could only give on her knees.

I felt weak. I felt like a God. I felt my heart beating against her tongue as she wrapped it around my dick. She held me close, as close as she could. With struggling muscles rejecting her efforts, she persisted until she was satisfied. Yet, she was insatiable.

My eyes glazed over as I continued watching myself disappear over and over into her wanting mouth. I tried to follow the patterns of her tongue but got lost in her lustful eyes, instead.

I was bewildered and mesmerized with the way she made love with her mouth alone. I didn’t dare disturb her, although I couldn’t help but fantasize about kissing her, too. I laced my fingers through her disheveled hair and pulled the same way I would if I’d been kissing her.

She pulled away and gasped just before she closed her lips around me again. The sudden burst of cool air only heightened the warmth of her. My body bucked harder against her. Her nose was buried in soft curls at the base of me, but she showed no signs of objection.

Instead, she rid her mouth of any air. She suckled until her tongue was flat against the sensitive underside of me. She massaged the pulsing vein to the rhythm of my heartbeat. She kept going even when it seemed impossible.

My hips drove my cock further into her throat and paid no mind to the muscle’s protests. I reveled in the wetness dripping from her bottom lip.

I forced weary eyes open again to look down at the state of her. Her eyes struggled the same as the rest of her. Her hand buried beneath her underwear undoubtedly dripping the same way as her mouth.

 I wanted more. She deserved more.

With one final thrust against the back of her throat, I took hold of her hair and gave her everything I had. Hot waves of pleasure pooled in her mouth and that darling girl moaned. She was sobbing against the base of me like she had been devastated to see the end of something so beautiful.

When I was finally spent, with heaving breath and a slackened grip, I pulled her off me. Even with the exhaustion, I handled her with all the care she’d deserved. But she was nothing if not fixated.

Not even a second after she’d taken a full breath, she took me in her mouth again. Gently, she cleaned overly sensitive skin to ensure that she hadn’t missed a drop.

As much as it made me ache, I couldn’t bring myself to stop her until that insatiable girl was satisfied.

She released the now softened length with an even softer tongue. My darling girl looked up at me with a beg for something more than my everything.

I wanted to give her more. She deserved more.

So, I helped her up from her spot with shaky knees. She trembled against me, and I welcomed the warmth of her body.

She was my greatest desire. I couldn’t say no to something as sweet as her slightly salty lips. She was so tired, but she didn’t fail to kiss me back. She pushed her tongue into my mouth at the same time I sneaked past the band of her underwear.

She gasped around my mouth, still seeking air without having to let go.

Her dripping heat didn’t resist my fingers. I pressed them into her effortlessly, feeling more of her from the inside.

I was so drunk on the power of pleasing her that I almost couldn’t let her go. I held my fingers down against that rough patch at the front of her walls until she was twitching. I waited for her body to squirm and her lips to break contact with mine before I started to move again.

I’d wanted to hear her whisper sweet nothings against my lips.

“Please, Spencer,” she slurred through swollen lips, “More.”

I’d be damned to tell her no.

I pulled my fingers free from tense walls and placed them gently against the swollen pearl at the crest of her dripping heat. A few gentle, lazy circles was all it took for her to fall apart in my arms.

Still, she kissed me with everything she had. I tasted myself on her tongue and imagined tasting her, too. Something more than the sweetness of her saliva.

Once I was certain she’d had enough, I removed my hand from her underwear and brought it to her lips.

Without any hesitation, she took my fingers into her mouth.

My insatiable girl, I thought, may you never have enough of this.

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my Sub!Spencer oral fic here!

[goodnightoilcountry]

don't overthink when you could be loving me - sebastian aho

summary: Your inadvertent friendship with some of the Canes players was not something you advertized in your day-to-day life. But an evening of Friday night drinks changes that when you find yourself trapped in the same bar with your co-workers and one love-struck Sebastian Aho who’s determined to make it known that you’re spoken for… well, tentatively that is. 

word count: 6.2k

author's note: one month in the making and i'm not even convinced that this is of any quality. but if i don't put it out now, i never will. i'm going to do another proofread but don't worry, if there are going to be any edits, it'll just be fixing up typos / grammar.

tag list: @kashee-h

You won’t lie. You weren’t always the biggest believer in keeping your personal life and work life separate. 

Despite the numerous warnings about how “your colleagues are not your friends”, you couldn’t help but merge the two words into a synonymous figure. By this point in your life, you could probably ballpark that half of your closest friends were acquired from the various roles you were appointed. You’ve always felt like you’ve lucked out in that department. 

The moment when your luck seemed to wear out was at your very first grad role. 

With a newly minted finance degree in one hand and just about $50,000 in the other, the bar wasn’t set particularly high in terms of quality for a grad role. So when you received the congratulatory phone call from human resources, you didn’t care about the questionably low pay or how weirdly vague your interviewers were about overtime practices, you were just happy to finally have something substantial splashed across your resume. 

Your first month wasn’t anything to write home about. As expected, everyone was cordial, you were given grunt work, and you would routinely eat tune rice and veg for lunch - something that was weirdly unique to the corporate world. 

Where the comfort flipped was the night that the firm hosted its annual Thank You Dinner. What was announced as a company event hosted by the executives to say thank you to its employees for their efforts was actually disguised as a night of debauchery at the expense of the firm’s bottom line - but you didn’t know that yet. 

So when a passing comment about the Canes turns into a full-blown conversation piece at your table, your wine-induced lips couldn’t help but let something slip. 

It’s not like you ran around advertising the fact that you were family friends with Seth Jarvis growing up. But hockey culture was thriving in Raleigh and moments where a mention of the Canes wasn’t thrown into the mix rarely occurred. 

More often than not, you were happy to pass on any unused tickets that Seth had reserved in your name every year. Of course, generally, nobody questions where the tickets came from the first time around - free tickets are free tickets. But by the fourth round? Who would still believe that you just accidentally purchased lower-bowl seats not knowing you already had plans? 

You would eventually let up that maybe you were better acquainted with the Canes than on just a last-name and number basis. And the reactions that followed usually panned out the same way. You’d receive looks that crossed between amazement and disbelief, followed by thirty minutes of inquisitioning, and then the excitement of the news would eventually fade before moving on to something salacious that had happened earlier that week. 

But the news of your affiliation that night was volatile. 

Suddenly, your tickets weren’t viewed as a generous offering but rather as a right. People in different departments whom you had never met started taking you out for lunches with a casual mention of how they hadn’t ever been to a live game; your boss expected you to give them up for the sake of appeasing potential clients; girls would invite you out with the hopes of them showing up to wherever you were. 

You handed in your resignation six months later. 

So when you signed your letter of offer for your new role, you made a silent promise to yourself to keep that portion of your life separate. So, you distanced yourself. 

Seth had noticed. He had known that you would occasionally give up your tickets when you knew you weren’t able to make a game. But as more and more weeks had passed, he had maybe seen your seats filled twice: once by a few of your closest girlfriends and the other was when your parents had come to town for a long weekend. 

Outings with him and the team became infrequent as you declined to attend any sort of public event that would bear the risk of you being caught out by your new colleagues. And when you were eventually questioned why, you simply excused that your new job had you locked down. 

The second person to notice your increasing absence was Sebastian. 

Since Seth’s rookie days, you had been, on more than several occasions, his plus one to team events. And over the years, you had gotten to know some of the younger members who were able to keep up with Seth’s redbull-fueled energy. That included Sebastian. 

The first time you had actually properly spoken to him was at a Canes charity gala. Seth and KK had been swept into a conversation by a few board members, leaving you to quietly people-watch from your assigned seat. 

****

“Refill?” 

You turned to find Sebastian with an arm extended out; a glass of champagne delicately sat between his fingers. You returned a grateful smile as he sat down in Seth’s seat. 

“You manage to avoid the noise fest?” you lightly poked, looking over at Seth where Andrei and Jack were now caught. 

He let out a laugh and shook his head while looking down, “I’ve definitely done my fair share of the sucking up.”

“You didn’t feel like joining your boyfriend?” 

You choked on your drink as soon as the assumption left his mouth. You couldn’t help but begin laughing as you coughed up a response, “Oh my god, no. Seth and I grew up together back home. Our parents were close friends.” 

His cheeks flushed red at the revelation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed because you’ve come to a few of these things with him before and you’re at our games a lot,” he tried to reason as he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the embarrassment. 

You shook your head with the same amused donned across your face, “he’s really never mentioned that we grew together as kids?”

“I’m sure he’s mentioned it but it’s hard to catch everything he says. He talks… a lot.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the blunt statement. 

You had found it easy to talk to Sebastian. The conversation flowed seamlessly, from the standard questioning of each other’s jobs to the shared ache of missing home. Before you knew it, Seth had returned with a sheepish look on his face; apologetic for his disappearance but not missing the flash of disappointment across his teammate’s face when you said goodnight. 

After that, the trajectory of your relationship with Sebastian had shifted into something more. Sure, you both became closer as friends, growing comfortable in the presence of one another. But as time went on you couldn’t help but feel like the line between you two would occasionally go hazy; blurring completely on a night out following a hard-fought win. 

****

Every summer that comes around reminds you of how incomprehensible the energy can be in Raleigh. 

The city came alive as holidayers passed through, the nights drew out longer, and the cool drinks were more than welcome from people who were looking to escape the heat. Which is how you found yourself sitting at a beer hall three blocks from your office in downtown Raleigh.  

Unsurprisingly, the bar was packed on a Friday evening and you could only expect it to ramp up even more when your eyes fell on the sight of a band setting up stage for the night. 

“Here, grab these first and I’ll bring over the rest.”

Maddy slides over 3 glasses to you and pulls out her card to start a tab for the table. You met Maddy on your first day when you were doing the round with HR. They had introduced her as your “office buddy”, to which Maddy later rolled her eyes at and reassured you that she wouldn’t be as micro-managing as they had made it out to be. 

She took you to lunch and gave you her version of the onboarding special which basically involved giving you the run down of who you didn’t want to piss off if you ever wanted to be promoted. 

It wasn’t long before you both became each other’s go-to person at work when things went to shit and sometimes the occasional debrief session at Thursday wines where she updated you about how her dating life was tracking. 

You pull together the glasses and place them into a firm grasp between your hands before turning around to make a beeline for the table with Maddy trailing behind you. There are a few familiar faces from your team and some that you don’t think you’ve ever met before but you know that Maddy is a big fan of getting into the good graces of other departments. 

Your phone screen lights up before you can even take a sip from the glass causing you to divert your attention. 

Last weekend before we’re due back for pre-season training. Come out with us tonight? - Jarvy 

You feel a pang of guilt with the sudden reminder that Seth just unintentionally gave you. 

Your MIA-ness had begun a month before the playoffs started. Granted you still followed every game from the comfort of your home, but your continued in-person absence did not go unnoticed. Even more so after the 4-0 Conference Finals loss to the Panthers, where Sebastian wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of your presence to ease the heartbreak. 

Instead, he had to settle for an “I’m sorry.” text. 

And in your defence, you had tried to see him when they returned home but the timing was never quite right as Sebastian took off for Finland a few weeks later as a last-minute guest for his cousin’s wedding. 

You were able to catch Seth a handful of times before he also took flight: Winnipeg for home, Chicago for Lollapalooza, and Cabo with KK and Svech from the look of his Instagram stories. 

He waved away your apologies and said he understood that you were flat out with work and that he hoped you weren’t working yourself too hard. All you could do was return a meek smile and be thankful that he didn’t press about it further. 

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to rack your brain for an excuse that wouldn’t leave any room for further persuasion. 

Sorry :( feeling too run down from the week. Next time though! 

You take one more look at your phone as Seth sends you the ‘Boo, You Whore!’ gif from Mean Girls, causing you to crack a small smile. 

“Better offer somewhere else?” 

Your head snaps up and meets the eyes of one of the unfamiliar faces sitting across you. 

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Charlie, I just joined the legal counsel,” he offers with a smile. And it’s a pretty damn good smile too.

You’re quickly swept up into a conversation with Charlie. You learn that he recently relocated from Boston, he has a labrador named Ollie, and that he’s heard of a fantastic restaurant down the road that he’s been “dying” to check out with someone. That last part is followed with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  

He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that much. Maybe a year ago he would have been your type. But lately, you’ve seemed to turn away from the sharp jawlines and blue eyes, and instead look for softer and warmer features with maybe a small scar carved into the bottom of their lip...

Wait, what? 

You shake the thought out of your head and instead focus back on Charlie’s current story: some embarrassing run-in with your boss, on his first day. 

You’re shaking from laughter at this point, “No way! Did she say anything to you later on?” 

Charlie grins as he places his head in his hands, “Yeah, it was such a shame job. When I got my first official meeting with her, it was-” 

You watch him trail off as his eyes dart to look at you. No, not at you. Behind you? 

“Well, well, well. Feeling better, eh?” 

You recognize that shit-eating tone anywhere. 

“Oh Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. You turn around and find Seth smirking down at you like he’s found a deer in the headlights. 

“Must have been a pretty quick recovery considering you were sick only two hours ago,” he derides, sliding into the empty spot next to you. You’ve only just realized that your whole table is now empty besides you and Charlie. A quick whip around tells you that they’ve all moved to the nearby pool tables. 

“Seth,” you say calmly, “what are you doing here?” 

“I told you. Last weekend before practice starts.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t even like it here. I’ve literally heard you call it the worst bar in the world,” you argue back.

Seth’s about to open his mouth for some quick retaliation but Charlie beats him to it. 

“You’re Seth Jarvis,” he says. The look he gives is nothing short of bewilderment as he puts together that Seth Jarvis knows you. 

“Hey man, how you doing? Always nice to meet a fan,” Seth nods with an outstretched hand to Charlie. 

Charlie slowly shakes his hand, still reeling in from the newfound piece of information he’s just learned. “Oh, well I’m from Boston so not exactly a fan of you.” 

Seriously? Who even says something like that? 

You refuse to meet Seth’s side eye in an attempt to dodge the embarrassment you feel from Charlie’s unwarranted dig. He’s unsure how to respond to the hostility but the moment of awkwardness is cleared by a second voice appearing. 

“Jarvy, Burnsie found a table outside - let’s go...”

Your head snaps towards the voice and you find Sebastian looking right back. He’s taken aback and stumbles on his words for a second but recomposes himself just as quickly. 

“Hey, where have you b-,” he begins to step forward but falters as his eyes properly assess the scene before him. You and Charlie. Together. Alone. 

“Oh. Are you in the middle of something?” he hesitates, flickering between you and Charlie; unsure of what to make of the situation. 

Your eyes widen slightly before clearing your throat, “Oh, um no. This is Charlie. He recently moved to our office from Boston.” 

God, you feel so small right now. Here you were, seeing Sebastian for the first time in months and you can’t even muster up the courage to properly say hello. 

“Well, we’re gonna go back to our table. Find us at some point, yeah?” 

Seth gives Charlie a final cautious look before he pats Sebastian on the back, guiding them both to a table on the veranda. 

The rest of your group comes flooding back to the table having witnessed the sight unfold from afar. If Charlie keeps his mouth shut, surely you can play it off as a lucky fan interaction?

“Holy shit! Do you know who they were? Tell me you do because I will seriously freak if you tell me you don’t know,” Maddy furiously whispers with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know, Maddy. Seemed like she’s more than well-acquainted by the look on Aho’s face,” Charlie said dryly, bringing a bottle to his lips with a raised eyebrow. 

You’re a bit taken aback by his insinuation. 

“Um, Seth and I grew up together back home,” you slowly let out, “it was just a coincidence that we both ended up in Raleigh.” 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re friends with Seth Jarvis? Are you kidding me? You’ve only heard me talk about the Canes like a thousand times,” she gapes at you with an incredulous look. 

Here we go. 

The rest of your group wasn’t privy to your admission, being too caught up with the sight of the team being mere yards away from them. 

“Look, I don’t know. I just don’t like using his name like that. It makes me feel gross.” you sigh, rubbing your arms. 

“I’d just rather we drop it. Please?” 

You shoot her a look to which Maddy softens; understanding that the topic has hit a bit of a sore spot for you. 

“Okay yeah, of course. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.” 

The mass intrigue of the boys’ presence soon dies off as people slowly realize that they’re about as interesting to watch drinking as the next table is. Conversations resume back to normal and you try your best to feign interest but the knowledge that he’s the closest that you guys have been in months won’t leave you alone. 

So twenty more minutes pass by and you’re ready to throw in the towel. You’ve decided that you’ll deal with the situation another day - preferably when you can string together a proper sentence. After a quick goodbye and the promise of a home-safe text to Maddy, you gather your things and start making headway for the exit. 

The weakness in you can’t help but take one final look at Sebastian before you step out for the night but he’s beaten you to it. His eyes are already fixed on you with the same look you had become all too familiar with. 

****

Saturday night. Seth’s Birthday. Shut-out win over Vegas. No game scheduled until Wednesday. 

Individually, they’re considered lawfully good events. Combined? It’s as if someone was testing to see if Carolina even knew the definition of chaos. And when have they ever backed down from a challenge? 

You let out a huff of air as you fall back into the booth. You had finally managed to escape Seth and Jesperi from the dance floor. If there was ever a case to be made about the negative long-term effects of Redbull, those two were it. 

“Oh my god, how were you even out there for that long?” 

Martin’s girlfriend, Nykki, opens up her arm and lets you lean in. Her leather jacket is a cool contrast to your warm and flushed body. 

“Don’t let them take me again,” you whine as the ache in your feet comes flooding in. She giggles and affectionately pats your head. 

Your eyes skim over the crowd, taking count of where everyone was. Brady, Kuzy and Martin by the bar. Andrei, Jack and Pyotr occupied with a group of girls. Seth and Jesperi still unabashedly dancing but now sporting a pair of shades that you had a sneaky suspicion they found on the floor. As if your eyes knew before your brain, they’re scanning the room again to find what’s missing. 

“He stepped away to the bathroom.” 

Your eyes tear away from the crowd and you sit yourself up, pulling the closest drink to your lips to avoid the direction Nykki is heading.

“He was watching you all night, you know? Didn’t listen to a damn thing I said,” she nudges with a knowing smirk. You didn’t think it was possible for your face to heat up anymore. Your continued silence doesn’t deter Nykki though as she decides that she will get you to admit something that you’re not even sure you’re ready to admit to yourself. 

“Why are you both dancing around this? It’s obvious that he likes you. And maybe you won’t ever admit it to me but I can tell that you like him,” Nykki softens, acutely aware that Sebastian could return to the booth at any moment. 

“Do you…” you hesitate, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass. “Do you ever feel like you’re too exposed sometimes?” 

She furrows her brows, “What do you mean?” 

“There’s this thing that happens, and maybe it’s not often but it happens, where people expect things just because of who you know.

And if it’s true for just simply being friends with Seth, will it be worse if you’re involved with them?” 

“A hockey player definitely wasn’t my first choice,” she says after a moment. “And maybe I wish I knew what it would have meant to be with him.” 

“But,” she quickly recovers, watching your expression fall, “I wouldn’t change anything. It’s not about the world that he can offer me like everyone thinks it is. It’s how he always shows up for me, even when he’s 3000 miles away. It’s those private moments that are enough to make me forget the world is watching us.”

You catch the glowing adoration that’s etched into her face when she gazes across the room, watching her boyfriend laughing with Brady. You’re so wrapped up in ruminating over Nykki’s words that you almost don’t feel the way the cushion sinks next to you. 

“Are you done with that?” 

Sebastian’s voice grounds you back to reality. “Oh, I am but I’ll get another soon.” 

Before you can stop him, he slides back out of the booth again and flags down a bartender. And Nykki doesn’t take a beat to do the same, “I think I’ll join the others,” sending you a small wink. 

Sebastian slides back in setting down three glasses, two for you and one for him. “I thought you’d want some water too. Jarvy didn’t look like he was going to let you leave at any point,” he offers with a smile. 

You let out a laugh and shake your head, “The trick is to run the second he turns his back. Trust me, works every time.” 

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Me? What about you? 3 assists and a goal? Surely that’s what we’re really celebrating tonight,” you whistle as you twirl the straw between your fingers. 

You don’t miss the way he almost immediately shies up, turning away with the crack of a smile threatening to take over.

“I couldn’t have done it without the guys, they make all of it happen,” he notions. 

You roll your eyes immediately, “I forget how well media-trained you guys are sometimes.” 

“You should be able to enjoy your successes. It’s not about the other guys not being talented, it’s about being able to reflect on how far you’ve come. All of this is the culmination of your dedication, Sebastian. It’s important to remember that.” 

The silence he returns suddenly fills you with regret. Did you say too much? Was it even your place to say anything at all? You need to backpeddle. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -” you sigh, pushing away your drink. 

“No,” he quickly cuts, “I guess I’ve just never thought about it like that. But it does feel good to hear it.” 

“I like having you at our games” he smiles. “You know you’re part of my warm-up routine?” 

“I am?” 

“Yeah, I play this little game where I try to spell people’s names as fast as I can with the puck. I tried yours once and we won, so I did it the next night and we won again. Now I do it every game to put a little luck into the ice.”

Fuck. His confession renders you speechless. If there were any more doubts about your feelings for Sebastian, they were well and truly effaced now. And suddenly you gain a partial understanding of what Nykki meant. For every game, whether you’re there or not, Sebastian carves a part of you into it. 

You swallow, giving yourself a moment to recollect. “I didn’t think that I was such a game changer,” you softly let out.

You’re not exactly sure when or how it happened but you notice the proximity between you two has significantly lessened. And the arm he has strewn behind you on the top cap suddenly feels misplaced - like they would feel more at home around you. 

And for a brief moment - between the silence you’re both too afraid to break - his eyes break away from yours and flick towards your lips.

He inches closer, “You are… everything.” 

Your breath hitches. Before you can even stop yourself, your hand rests against his neck, gently pulling him in and Sebastian is more than willing to follow. This is it. 

“Guys! KK said his friend can get us into this new club!” 

Your eyes close shut and your hand drops down Sebastian. An agitated sigh leaves him as he reluctantly pulls back. You both look at each other, still caught in the moment that’s now fleed at the sound of Seth’s voice. 

Seth shakes Sebastian, forcing him to break away from your gaze. 

“Did you hear me? KK’s calling us an Uber,” Seth bounces. Not a beat later, Nykki appears and attempts to forcefully pull him away. But it’s Seth. And of course, rightfully so, he wants two of his best friends to come with. 

You quickly down the rest of your drink and step out of the booth, not wanting to bask in the awkwardness any longer. As you step outside, the chill of the wind grounds you back into reality, and you instinctively wrap your hands around your arms. In the peripheral of your vision, you see Nykki rush towards you. 

“I’m so sorry. I tried to grab onto him but he just moved so quickly.” 

You return a small smile, “It’s fine. Really.” 

You link arms with her and she guides you to the Uber that Martin is standing by with the door open. As Nykki climbs in, you turn your head and find Sebastian watching. 

He almost looks hopeful that you’ll follow him. That you’ll both leave the mess of the group behind and find solitude someplace else.

But you don’t. 

Instead, you give a small shake of your head and follow Nykki, with Martin firmly closing the door behind you. 

****

In the years you’ve watched Seth play in Raleigh, you’ve never once seen a game from the suite before. 

But the Monday morning after your run-in with the group, you find yourself opening a calendar invite from your boss to the first home game of the season with a few key clients. So now, you’re perched by the glass, watching the spotlights dancing around the ice and the crowds of people getting settled in for the night. 

“You know we’re meant to be chatting up the clients, right?” 

Of course, Charlie managed to be invited too. 

“I still haven’t been able to swing by that new restaurant I was telling you about. Could be fun to check it out afterwards,” he says, looking out towards the rink. 

“Thanks, Charlie but I think I’m just going to head home the game’s done,” you respond dryly.

He cocks his head with a raised brow, “You know they organized a meet and greet after the game right? The whole reason why we’re here is because the CEO’s son is a huge fan.” 

You don’t love the way your body freezes up at the newly shared information. You appreciated that your friendship with the team hadn’t made it past Maddy and Charlie’s lips, but you weren’t confident that would stay the same after tonight. And that’s the only thing that runs through your mind through all three periods. You can barely converse with the clients as you’re half-distracted by the get-away plan that you’re attempting to draw out in your mind, and it leaves your boss shooting you looks of “get your shit together”. 

The horn sounds off as soon as the clock hits zero. It’s evident that you’re not getting out of this and the only prayer you have left is that the players who join you are the younger rookies who have little to no idea who you are. But you know the chances of that are slim to none. 

You try to push away the anxiousness by listening to a conversation between your boss, Charlie, and the client. 

“All I’m saying is that the reason Boston didn’t make it past the first round was because of how shit some of the calls were against them,” Charlie rambles, oblivious to the unimpressed faces. 

The door of the suite swings open and you find Jordan, Brady, and Sebastian filing in. They’ve all clearly come straight from the showers, still dripping droplets of water from their hair onto the floor. They make their way around the room and shake everyone’s hands, thanking them for their support. Brady is the first to spot you as he gives you a surprised look followed by a welcoming smile. But he reads the panic in your eyes and - being classically perceptive - nods in understanding. 

It doesn’t take another second to pass for Sebastian to register your appearance and amongst the earlier crowding, you’re only now able to fully take in the way he’s dressed. His compression shirt sculpts against him, with the soft lines of his muscles pressing against the fabric. Shorts barely hanging loose against his thighs. A backwards cap sported to tie it all off. It’s enough to make you want to break your silent promise. 

Your eyes can’t help but fixate on him the entire time they circulate with everyone in the room. And while Sebastian tries his damn hardest to remain polite and focus on the conversation at hand, he can’t help but flicker his eyes towards you, making sure you won’t disappear on him again. 

“Thank you so much for your time. We won’t keep you guys any longer, but best of luck with the season ahead. Bring one home for us, hey?” your boss beams. Everyone else has headed home, leaving just you and Charlie waiting for your boss to let you go. 

“Goodnight guys. I’ll see you Monday.” 

And with that, it’s just the five of you left in the suite with a few people on the Hurricanes team off to the side. 

“Well, we better get going if we want to make it to that restaurant,” Charlie says turning towards you. 

Sebastian tenses at this and you see the way Jordan and Brady shoot each other a look. 

“I said I’m going home, Charlie.” You’re shutting this down. 

“I’ll give you a lift then,” he presses. 

Before you can open your mouth to counteract, Sebastian interjects, “You’re not far off from my place, I’ll take you.” 

“Yes, please!”

You’d be embarrassed with how quick you are to jump at his offer if it weren’t for the fact that you so desperately wanted to avoid being confined in a car with Charlie. 

“Thanks bro, but we’ve got it from here.” 

“Actually, I don’t think you do, bro.” 

Charlie looks between you two. Growing annoyed at the situation, he grabs his coat and retreats out of the suit. “Whatever. See you Monday.” 

A sigh leaves your lips and you don’t realize how taut your body is until it eases under the feeling of Sebastian's hand on your shoulder. 

“You guys all good if we take off?” Brady asks, expectedly. Sebastian nods and you all bid goodnight. 

“I just have to grab my things but if you’re tired I can just come back for them tomorrow,” he offers, as Brady and Jordan make their way out. 

You shake your head, “I can hold on, you’re doing me the favour.” 

It doesn’t take long to get back to the locker room, and you can’t help but think about how good he looks when he emerges with his hockey bag hung over one shoulder and a garment bag thrown over the other. 

As you lean against the passenger door, waiting for him to throw his things into the boot, you can’t help but start to grow nervous at the realisation that Sebastian may want to talk about that night. But your nervousness is cut short by Sebastian moving in front of you with a small disc in his hand. 

A puck. 

He looks down at it, fiddling with it between his hands, “It’s from the warm-up. I thought you might like it.”

It’s the puck.  

Your mouth falls open slightly, as you gingerly take it, as if you’re afraid it’ll break if you handle it too hard. 

“I can’t believe you still do that,” you breathe, turning it over, feeling the ridges where the ice has chipped the edges. 

“Of course I do. It changes the game.” 

Your eyes dart up at his choice of words - he remembers. 

“Why did you stop seeing us?” he puts forward. 

You sigh and lean back against the car, turning your head away. 

“Was it because of that night at Jarvy’s birthday? Did you not want to…” he trails off. Even he’s not sure what that night was meant to be. 

“This world that you’re in Sebastian, I just don’t know if it’s for me.”

“I know that we’re away a lot but I-” 

“It’s not that,” you quickly cut off. He returns a confused look and you know, as his eyes search you for an answer, that you owe him this explanation. 

“Before you came back to the table, I was talking to Nykki about how difficult it can get to be involved with a hockey player.” 

“But you’re already involved with us? You were friends with Seth already” he presses.  

“And look where it got me last time. I was forced to leave a job after six months because all anyone cared about was being closer to the Canes than me,” you lamented. 

“I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling like I’m second to the person I’m with; I want to feel equal to them. I want to know who is genuinely trying to be my friend. I want to exist outside of my relationship. I don’t want to have to hide in public because I’m scared to run into people from work.” 

You close your eyes, feeling exhausted by the flood of words leaving your mouth, and you half-expect Sebastian to get into his car and drive off. 

“I didn’t know.” 

You nod in understanding. How could you expect him to know? 

“I would never put you in a position where you wouldn’t feel safe,” he says softly.

“But if that’s what you really want, we can move on from everything. But I need you to know how I feel first.” His hand wraps around the side of your jaw and pulls your gaze towards him. 

“I wanted to know you the moment Seth pointed you out our game for the first time. And then we spoke at the charity gala and I only wanted to know you even more. And then you were around us more, and I got to know you beyond just being Seth’s friend. And what I know I know is that you’re smarter than you let on but you’re still kind. You’ve remained so grounded that you see me as more than just this job. You make me think more deeply than I ever have with anyone else and I don’t want to go back to a life before I had that.” 

You don’t know whether to cry or charge forward. Because after the endless rounds of almosts and what-ifs, you’ve finally caught each other. And the confessions that pour from his mouth left you knowing one thing for certain: you had both waited long enough.

And for the second time, you bring his neck down and finally close the gap between the two of you. Sebastian presses you against the car with his hand wrapping up to rest on the back of your neck, his lips deepening against yours. You never doubted it but his arms feel secure around you, afraid to let go and let the moment be over. 

But you pull away just long enough to let out a murmur, “Take me home, Sebastian” 

****

Six gruelling months pass by and you find yourself at a potential playoff-clinching game with your colleagues. 

Granted your relationship with Sebastian was still very much under wraps, but you had learned to navigate your feelings of discomfort towards the publicity of his job. Sebastian had accommodated your cautiousness. Careful to never spend too long in your section during a pre-game warm up. Made sure to drive around the quiet side of the arena to pick you up afterwards. He had never pushed you to do more than you needed to. 

But even though he’d never tell you, you know he’s quietly envious of the way the guys can openly skate with their partner at family skates. Or how they can sit and openly touch at company events. He had afforded you comfort at the expense of his wants. You wanted him to have more than this. And more importantly, you wanted to show him that you wanted more. 

So when the buzzer sounds off and the Canes skate away with another return to the Stanely Cup Playoffs, you can’t help but let go of the discontentment you have about being found out. So before you even know it, you find yourself moving towards the ice where Sebastian is wrapping up his post-game interview, ignoring the calls of Maddy asking where you’re going. 

And when you reach the board that separates you and your boyfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to skate over, collecting a puck from the equipment manager on the way. 

“Always nice to meet a fan,” he winks, offering his pre-game puck. 

You grin, pulling him forward by his jersey, “I appreciate it but I’ve gotta tell you that I’ve got a boyfriend.” 

His eyes melt at the sound of your public announcement and he catches your lips against his, “I love you so damn much.”

[estoricwaterlane]

Can't say : Chapter 1

character: Damian Wayne

fandom: DC

pairing: Damian Wayne xFem!Reader

tags: fluff,romance,slowburn,angst, unrequited love, childhood sweethearts

warning: its a bit suggestive not that much though lol

a/n: none

Damian stood outside his father's home, enjoying the fresh air. It was a crisp night, but he had donned a jacket to ward off the chill. As he gazed out over the peaceful estate grounds, he saw a woman in a large overcoat approaching.

She waved eagerly at him, and his brow creased with confusion. She clearly wasn't a part of his father's private army, or any of his associates that he knew.

Damian scowled as the woman continued to approach, now hopping up the front steps.

“Mr. Al Ghul what a surprise!” The woman's smile didn't falter as she held out her hand for Damian to shake. But she pulled his arm and guided him into a hug.

His shoulders stiffened , his arms went limp by his sides, and he began backing away to the door"What do you want ?" He demanded, trying not to sound too gruff.

“Well, we haven't had a chance to catch up in quite some time. How have you been?” She pulled back, and peered at him expectantly. “It seems like you've become quite handsome since I last saw you.” Damian couldn't help it, he smirked.

“Well ever since you got your boyfriend , there's really no reason for us to be friends.”

She pursed her lips and looked away, clearly unhappy with the line.

“Please, I just want to talk about old times.” Her voice sounded slightly hollow, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

She nudged his shoulder with her own, and his nose wrinkled.

"I'll tell you what - how about I bring you a special cup of tea tonight? A little to apologize?”

His nostrils flared as he backed up towards the street, forcing himself not to run. There was something almost nauseating about her; her perfume, the way she cooed.

"I'm not interested," he scoffed.

"You sure? Not even the famous mint tea from my family's estate? It's said to ease sore muscles and improve sleep," she offered.

His brow twitched. Damian was quite the tea aficionado. He always looked forward to his father's expertly-brewed leaves and exotic blends. Perhaps a sip wouldn't hurt, just to appease her. Besides, this entire interaction seemed a bit contrived; after all, why would she be here?

"Go on. Try some! Maybe it will loosen that tight spot you've got in your throat. The one that's preventing you from saying more than a few words at a time," she jested.

Her teeth gleamed behind dark red lipstick, and he took an involuntary step back.

"Very well. You've piqued my curiosity. Bring the tea by," he conceded.

Her lips curled into a triumphant smile. "Yay! I'll bring it right to your doorstep."

"One more thing," Damian said, before turning back toward the mansion.

"What's that?" She called after him.

"Bring yourself along too." His reply was cut short when the door slammed shut in her face.

His feelings for her just couldn’t go away. Ever since she met that sleazebag she calls her ‘boyfriend’ he couldn’t get her out of his head. He could only think about the moment when he finally has her. I mean he knew she was a bit slow, but he didn’t think she’d be so oblivious to not recognize his feelings for her. His childhood best friend.

She arrived promptly the next day with two cups and a small basket filled with a variety of teas and infused waters.

"Here you are!" she exclaimed, handing the tin to Damian. "Sorry it took me a while. I had to dig up some of the old estate's recipes. Do you prefer it hot or iced?"

"I prefer it steeped correctly and served in a proper teacup," he muttered.

"Okay, Mister Prissypants." She began unloading the assortment of pots and jars, shaking her head with amusement.

She settled into the seat across from him, her feet tapping in time with the clock on the wall. She was a whirlwind, flitting around his immaculately decorated living room as if she owned the place.

Damian smirked when her fingers caressed a particularly rare and valuable vase.

He found himself wondering about her personal life, but decided to keep those thoughts to himself. Her looks alone were enough to fuel a thousand fantasies.

“So, what do you think so far?" She poured the rich, golden liquid into his mug, and his nostrils flared with the fragrant, slightly sweet scent.

"It's acceptable," he conceded.

She only raised an eyebrow. "You've got quite the poker face, Damian.”

He snorted. "Pardon me?"

"Like, your expression. You're a total brick wall," she explained.

He stared at her for a moment. She was babbling nonsense. She had nothing on his mastery of deception and camouflage.

But he couldn't help but admit that there was something about her. Something that made him want to give her the time of day, even though she had arrived like an overly friendly tornado.

"There must be a reason you're going to great lengths to earn my attention," Damian said, taking a sip from his cup.

"A bit presumptuous, no?" he remarked.

Her eyes twinkled. "Says the one who demanded my presence for his tea tasting."

He grunted, unable to argue her point. She had a knack for being incredibly bold and direct. It was unnerving but refreshing.

She swished the hot drink in her cup, biting her bottom lip.

"Have you ever tried getting out more?" she asked tentatively.

"I do get out," he snapped. "I train daily, and I also maintain this vast and complex garden."

She sighed. "I meant, socially, Damian. Like, interacting with other people. We're having a party tonight at the estate. Why don't you come over?"

Damian scoffed. "No thank you."

She pouted. "Don't you miss being around people your own age? Like, talking, laughing, and doing things together?"

"Nope," Damian answered.

She glared at him. "Then maybe you can help me pick some fresh flowers for tonight's festivities. I know you're probably itching to get back to work, but I think you'd enjoy it."

Damian narrowed his eyes. "Why should I waste my free time picking weeds in the dead of winter?"

He found himself intrigued by her persistence and curiosity. In his isolation, he had grown accustomed to the quiet. But now, there was an opportunity to be heard.

So he followed her to the sprawling estate gardens, which he tended with care and pride.

As they strolled the pristine pathways and trimmed bushes, he saw how her face lit up with wonder. "This place is a dream," she said, inhaling the fragrant air.

"Thank you," he replied.

"Well, isn't this a surprise. You can actually say something that doesn't involve insulting my hospitality," she teased.

He shook his head. "Tsk. Your ego is the size of your ridiculous overcoat," Damian retorted.

She threw her head back and laughed, the sound filling the empty space between them. Damian's mouth twitched as if wanting to join her.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"You're the worst gossip," Damian groaned.

"Listen, I'm kind of nervous about tonight," she confessed. "My parents are really big socialites. Everyone is going to judge me and, like, laugh."

She crossed her arms, hugging herself. Damian noticed her vulnerability for the first time. There was a hint of uncertainty in her features.

"I can't promise to make small talk, or make anyone feel at ease, but I can assure you that no one will dare to judge," Damian replied.

[bullet-prooflove]

If you’re still open to writing for Douglas Hamilton:

“You lean in closer and my heart starts to pound”

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lucymalfoy18 @ashrionest @mimi-8793 @glamourous-eloquence

Companion piece to:

Mississippi Meanders - Douglas doesn't expect to meet the love of his life.

Your first date takes place surrounded by a myriad of art supplies. Douglas is standing amidst the mess with his sleeves rolled up and his hands on his hips as he surveys the task at hand.

These, you think, are the moments his PR person should be documenting. The ones where he’s genuinely immersed in the community instead off the staged bullshit she puts together.

It’s been a couple of days since the two of you ran into each other during another charity event. You’d given your number to Douglas last month and not heard a thing from him, you didn’t understand why.

“Why didn’t you call?” You’d asked him when you’d found yourself standing beside him at the bar.

“Because you were too good to be true.” He’d told you frankly.

Its in that moment you gain an insight into the Mayor that you’ve never really considered. Douglas, he comes from a world where everyone is vying for his attention, his favour. Every single one of them takes from him, but they never give. You can’t imagine what that must do to a person’s psyche.

“I could list some faults if you’d like.” You’d suggested as you’d taken a sip from your drink. “Take a step down off that pedestal you’ve put me on.”

He’d laughed then, not that wry chuckle he usually does to appease a constituent but a real one, one that comes from somewhere deep down in his chest. He relaxes after that, you can see the pressure of his position slip away and for a moment he’s just Douglas, the man, not the Mayor.

It’s the appearance of Martha, his PR person that changes things again. She appears by his side, taking his arm, drawing him away and he sighs before he casts you a longing look.

You don’t expect to see him again after that, his mind seemed made up when it came to the nature of your relationship and there’s no point chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught.  

When he turns up at the museum the next day you’re surprised. You’re setting up for a kids art program you’ve been running the last few weeks, clad in jeans and an old t-shirt that declares your love for Frida Kahlo instead of your usual power dress and high heels.

“I thought we could have lunch together.” He declares, leaving his entourage at the door and you gesture to the space around you regretfully.

“What if I helped you?” He’d asked you, already stripping out of his jacket. “We can eat after?”

“I’d like that.” You tell him before you get to work.

It’s a quicker and easier task with the two of you working on it. You finish up with thirty minutes to spare and find yourself sitting on the sensory blanket you’ve laid on the floor eating sushi with the Mayor.

“What changed your mind about me?” You ask him, setting the empty tray aside and popping the complimentary mint in your mouth.

“I made a list of your faults.” He teases you as he sets his own meal aside. “Honestly though it was the fact you say what’s on your mind. I never have to second guess what you’re thinking, or look for the barb in the nicety. You’re upfront and I like that, it’s rare in my world.”

“It’s rare in my world too, there’s a lot of subtext in the art world.” You tell him as you organise the litter into a neat pile. “It’s exhausting.”

“It is.” He agrees, his elbows coming to rest upon his knees as he studies the mobile above him. It’s one the kids have made out of coloured tissue paper, glue and glittery string. “The reason I got into politics was because of programs like this, my home life wasn’t exactly stable growing up and art was great outlet for me to vent some of the stress I was feeling. It was something I could lose myself in when…”

He stops himself then because he doesn’t do this. He doesn’t talk about the past, about the fact his father, a well-respected police man used to beat the hell out of him and his mother.

“…When you didn’t have a safe space.” You finish and he inclines his head, neither confirming or denying your summation. “I get that, art for me was…”

It’s at that second that the clack of high heels on tile interrupts you because Martha the PR Rep is back, already moving him on to his next appointment. He sighs remorsefully as he raises to his feet, helping you to your own.

“Don’t let yourself lose that safe space.” You tell him as you raise up on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “No matter how busy you get.”

It’s later that evening he calls you, you’re just closing up the museum, when your phone rings with an unknown number.

“Hello?” You say as you cradle the phone against your shoulder whilst attempting to twist your keys in the lock.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” He requests and you can hear the vulnerability in his tone. “Maybe we can talk about safe spaces some more.”

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

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[horizon-verizon]

Wasn't Tyraxes much bigger when book!Rhaenyra sent Joffrey and Rhaena to the Vale? I vaguely recall Joffrey being able to ride him. So basically the show made up a dumbass reason for Jeyne to be pissed at Rhaenyra (and take it out on Rhaena) because god forbid we let her have a positive female relationship outside queerbaiting. And I guess to also make Rhaenyra look shitty and conniving perhaps?

Joffrey was told he'd be sent to the Vale in the book, but I took Jace's words to him as more a means to placate him and keep him from trying to join him in any real battle. After Jace's death and the younger boys' own traumatic event/loss of Viserys, Rhaenyra decided to keep this newly minted heir, the last of the Velaryon boys, close. And yes, the dragon was big enough to ride.

So IF, IF they make Rhaenyra angry with Rhaena, then yes.

I once said I understood Jeyne's resentment in the show, but that is solely based on me not bringing up the writing to make as if Rhaenyra would do that and that Jeyne herself would not make sure the cross her Ts/dot her Is in whatever letters they exchanged for the clarity. The show makes it seem Rhaenyra promised a lot and refused to pay up without even the justified reason of how her eldest son died and she needed to keep her remaining son/heir of just two (again, she lost BOTH Viserys and Jace in one blow! in the book/orig story BEFORE Rhaena or Joff could be sent to the Vale!)

It's is also to put more pressure on Rhaena to endanger herself once again and take the risk to claim a wild dragon, bc she sorta "failed" to appease Jeyne or win her, body/mind, over to Rhaenyra's side or to impress Jeyne.

Honestly, none of the women make it out of this un-side-eyed, but Rhaena really gets the short end here. Why is she so automatonized? (Iknowwhy)

[mariamakeslemons]

Chapter 1 (Angered Crows)

TW: slight mention of gore

There are some things being set up for later, while some things are just funny to me.

“I found your necromancer,” Laswell tells them over the phone. It’s been only a day since Gaz watched the Austrian get risen by the very tired looking necromancer, surprising all four members of the 141.

“‘O is it?” Ghost grumbles, flexing his hand to release some of his agitation. Gaz can’t really blame his Lieutenant, as König tends to go after Ghost first when they face him in the field for one reason or another. Knowing who’s reviving him would make finally putting the bastard down so much easier.

“Well,” Laswell hesitates, surprising the task force again, “that’s the thing. They’re a civilian. A witch, yes, but a civilian with no connection to any PMCs or governments. So, why they’re raising König is currently the biggest question.”

“Ye think ‘e might ‘ave somethin’ on th’ poor bastart?” Soap asks, leaning forward on the table. Gaz frowns at that thought, something in his gut saying it’s close to the truth.

“Your guess is as good as mine at this time,” Laswell confesses, “But, they’re closer to you than me.” She rattles off a name and address, in the small section of London that is practically nothing but witches and magic users. Gaz frowns, still mulling over what he saw back on the field. How you had tried to get away from the behemoth of a man. Tilting his head back and forth, Gaz stands at the table, getting the others’ attention.

“Let’s go meet ‘em, then,” he throws out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------The sneeze that escapes you is hard enough that you slam your head into your desk due to the recoil. Ogun gives you the most judgmental look a bird can as you whine in pain.

“Don’t act so high and mighty,” you hiss, glaring at the phoenix, “You flew into a door.” Ogun squawks and flaps his wings indignantly, obviously upset you brought up something so long ago (It was literally three days ago). You roll your eyes and blow a raspberry at your familiar, which only makes him squawk again. The bells above the door tinkle, catching your attention before you could pull your tongue back into your mouth.

At the door is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, looking around your shop curiously. His brown eyes taking in the crystals and herbs, the books and potions, with a quirk of his full lips that practically beg to be kissed. He strides in, confident and powerful, knowing exactly what he came for but enjoying the journey to reach it.

He turns his brown eyes to you and arches an eyebrow.

“You, uh, you gonna keep blepin’?” he asks, drawing attention to the tip of your tongue still poking out of your mouth. You pull it back in quickly, feeling your face burn in embarrassment, only to choke when Ogun flies up to the man. The phoenix puffs up and preens, showing off his black feathers gleefully before flaring his tail to show off his multicolored flames.

“Ogun!” you croak, swatting at your familiar while hissing, “Go! Get! Stop bothering him!” Ogun shrieks and takes off, flying over to his perch with a huff. Already, you’re planning on burning lavender and mint to appease his flaming-ness in apology as you brush out your apron to suppress your embarrassment.

“Sorry about that, sir,” you offer with a sheepish grin, “How can I help you?”

“I’m lookin’ for some information,” he tells you, leaning on the desk, “Just a question.” You’re immediately on edge. Did he realize that he’s your soulmate? Does he think you’re going to force him to be with you? Fuck, maybe he’s one of those humans that fear witches. How does this work? How do relationship work again?

“Do you know a man by the title of König?” he asks instead.

“Oh fuck. What did that fucking moron do now?” you ask with a strange combination of dread and relief. The man blinks at your response, like he wasn’t expecting you to be forthcoming with information.

“Uh,” the man trails off, blinking at you. You wait patiently for your soulmate to tell you what the creepy fuck’s done, when a ghostly hand touches your shoulder.

“Liebling, why do you speak with him?” the ghost of König asks, growling and hissing while looming over your shoulder.

“Because you’re a pain in my ass that won’t let me leave you in the ground,” you snap with a glare, shooing off his hand. The man before you arches a brow while the idiot behind you whines pathetically.

“Sorry, the fuckhead’s dead again,” you groan, “Gotta go revive his stupid ass. For the… sixth time? Sixth time this month.”

“But it’s the tenth,” your soulmate points out. You give him the best ‘and yet, here we are’ look you can muster, before patting him on the hand.

“Look, I’ll be about ten minutes,” you assure him, “I can tell you anything you want to know afterward.”

“You will not,” König growls, only to whine as you wave your hand through his abdomen. Your soulmate mulls it over before offering you a pretty, shy grin.

“I guess I can wait,” he agrees, “I’m Kyle, by the way.” You manage to give him your own name and an attempted flirtatious wink (God, how do flirting work?), before summoning the stupid fucking portal to get to the stupid fuck’s body.

Stepping out into the field, you blink at the mess before you. His eye needs to be completely remade while he’s missing his liver and part of his lung.

“What the fuck did you do this time?” you ask while kneeling beside his body, even if you don’t really care. You just want to raise him and return to your shop. Hopefully, Kyle’s still there and you can try flirting with him. Maybe you should Google how to flirt with a handsome man…

“I yelled at a crow,” he confessed. You freeze before slowly turning up to look at him.

“You yelled,” you slowly draw out, “at a crow.” The idiot gives a nod, flinching when you snap, “And you didn’t think there would be repercussions?!”

“It wasn’t a raven,” he tries to defend himself. You groan, before getting to work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------A witch can be Bound to only one being at a time. If the person the witch is Bound to dies, then they must follow the laws of necromancy before trying to revive them. The death must not be tied to entropy or illness, nor must the soul have been sold to a demon. Should the death not fall into those categories and the witch is Bound, then they must revive the person.

“And he Bound you to him?” Kyle asks, sipping the tea you made upon your return to the shop.

“Unfortunately,” you tell him. And it is. If you had been half a second faster with that decay spell upon his first revival, you never would have needed to be König’s respawner. Kyle hums sympathetically, sipping the tea while looking at you. You groan, “This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if the dumb bitch just listened to me, but noooo. The witch doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Dumb bitch?” Kyle asks, raising an eyebrow. You look up at him and huff, spinning your sad tale for him. From the murderous idiot to the break in, you tell him everything. Even how you killed König again with a decay spell.

“Really, you can argue if it’s called decay or rot,” you end up rambling again, “I was always taught that the spell is ‘decay’, but that word sounds softer than the spell’s effect.”

“Oh?” Kyle intones, perking up in interest. You almost continue on, only to pause. The last time you had dived into what a spell does, it had been a more harmless spell, yet the guy you were talking to (also a non-witch) had looked at you weirdly.

“What’s wrong?” Kyle asks, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Uh, n-nothing,” you spit out, looking down. Ogun coos and nudges at you, the only thing that you could talk to about the spells and how they might be misnamed or how they work in a different manner than their name would indicate. Kyle frowns and rests his hand on yours.

“Hey,” he coaxes softly, “It’s okay. You wanna talk about th’ spell?” You blink, surprised that he seemed to know just what you wanted to do.

“Yeah,” you admit, feeling your face warm in embarrassment.

“Well then,” he declares, settling into his seat, “Have at it.” You perk up, and it rushes out. How aggressive the spell can be, which doesn’t quite sound like decay. How the spell is also a cause of the decay, thus it wasn’t really decay, which only occurs over time. Rot, however, is due to something causing the break down.

“So basically, it should be a rot spell instead of decay,” you finish with a nod. Kyle smiles at you, obviously amused as he finishes off his tea.

“Well, you gave me more than I asked. Thanks for that, Love. I’m gonna go, but I’ll come by again,” he declares, offering his finger to Ogun. Your phoenix forgoes scenting for just being the little tart he is, rubbing against the finger like a tart. Kyle seems surprised at his whorish behavior while you are aghast.

“Ogun! You little slut!” you choke out, making Kyle laugh.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gaz finishes reporting what he found when he visited you, telling everything that you explained about the König situation. Price rubs at his jaw thoughtfully while Ghost leans back in his chair.

“So, ‘ow bonnie are ye talkin’?” Soap asks, leaning forward eagerly. Gaz tries to give his fellow Sargeant a warning look, but he is too flustered at the memory of you. How excited you were, talking away about spells and scolding your familiar for practically rubbing all over his hand for scritches.

“Doesn’t matter,” he decides to say instead, averting his eyes.

“Ach, don’ be lik’ tha’,” Soap whines, splaying out on the table with a pout. Ghost huffs and smacks his boyfriend on the back of the head while Price sighs.

“Is there a way to break a Bond?” the Captain asks.

“I was gonna go back and see if that’s possible,” Gaz admits with a shrug, “Or, you know, find a way to offer the bastard’s soul to a demon.”

“‘Ow ‘bout we don’ risk that,” Ghost says, rubbing his hand on a scar of his. One that he had eventually confessed was from an attempt by a member of his past squad to do just what Gaz had offered. Price nods in agreement.

“If we can trick him into doing that himself, that would be the only way we’re including demons,” Captain orders. Gaz nods in understanding, feeling a bit like an ass for bringing up the option. Luckily, Ghost seems to have understood it was just a thought about how to take care of the current thorn in their side. Still, he’ll have to be more careful around you. After all, you never really know what will occur around magic.

[mypvz2]

[rulers-of-hungary-tournament]

ROUND 1A, MATCH 5

***

WHAT MY PROFESSOR OF MEDIEVAL HISTORY SAID ABOUT THEM

Kálman (Koloman) 1095-1116

was supposed to become a priest, but because Arpáds gonna Arpád, he stole the throne from his brother Álmos, whom he subsequently blinded and imprisoned together with his son (who was a literal child)

otherwise a pretty cool dude, called Learned or Lawgiver because of all the laws he has passed, more than any other king of Hungary in fact (in medieval history I presume, I refuse to believe neither Maria Theresa nor Joseph II. have him beat)

he called a synod to fight the corruption in the church, which is nice

let the crusaders trough Hungary, but when they started making mess (as crusaders wont to do), he kicked them out

gained the throne of Croatia and for administrative reasons abolished the duchy of Nyitra, no I am not bitter

also I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention the hillarious bit of drama that is his marriage to Kievan princess Euphemia, basically he proclaimed her to be an adulteress and sent her back home, where she gave birth to a son named Boris, who then proceeded to be a pain in the ass of his Hungarian (alleged) relatives for his whole life by attempting to claim the throne

I.Károly (Karol I.) - but be honest, we all know him as Károly/Karol Róbert 1301-1342

spent the first few years on the throne fending off antikings, namely Václav III., who then gave up and passed his claim onto Otto of Bavaria, whom Károly subsequently defeated

upon his ascencion to the throne country basically ruled by the feuding nobles, also know in this period as oligarchs, he managed to consolidate his reign and regain most of the royal power trough a combination of warfare (Rozgony/Rozhanovce 1312 HELLOOO) and appeasing them with court functions

I don't even know where to START with this guy's reforms - seriously, he minted the first gold coins in Hungary, instated the banderial system (levy of the royal army from the soldiers drafted by the cities, comitates and nobles, look it was a big deal, just trust me), reformed the administation of the country and so, so much more I can't get into; basically, this man was Maria Theresa before Maria Theresa

he mostly avoided wars because of the bad shape of Hungarian treasury, though he did lead a couple of them (conflicts with Venice and Wallachia)

initiator of the 1335 meeting in Visegrád with John of Luxembourg and Casimir III. of Poland; basically, we have him to thank for the name Visegrád Four

(admin is from Košice, so he has just inherently won in her eyes because of Rozhanovce)

[contentment-of-cats]

Fun and Games

This has been kicking around in drafts for a few months. I was cleaning it out and...

With thanks to @shards-of-silver for getting me off my ass.

Upon promotion to senior lieutenants, there are perks.

Ensigns sleep a dozen to a barracks, junior lieutenants share a four-rack of bunks around a common area and share sanitary facilities. Senior officers of lieutenant commander or higher have their own private quarters increasing in size and amenities, and at flag rank a suite of rooms. But nothing beats the heady rush of getting your own room with a door that closes. Despite what the contractors say, those bunk partitions don't do squat to stop you from hearing every snore, fart, or wet dream from your fellow juniors. There's a corresponding increase in cubic storage along with the bigger room and one may trust the newly-minted senior loots to go a little crazy.

Thrawn as a new commodore aboard rearranged officers' quarters by duty station, so now all bridge officers are housed a literal thirty second run to the bridge or assigned six-man lifepod. Faro has always run a looser ship in terms of culture, and there are times when bridge officers' country is decorated for various holidays and observances. For example, observances of Longnight see small dishes of food and lanterns set out to guide and appease the spirits of those lost in the vastness of space. But today there is something new outside of Agral and Pyro's twofer.

A sign-up.

It's a datapad on a sticky at reading level with a stylus on a cord.

"Sign up for tabletop games night - Quests & Quarries, Pirates & Privateers, Hyperspace Hellscape, Ancient Lands Archaic Warfare, and other RP games coming to a horizontal surface near you!"

The list is growing fast.

A note above the hatch control says, "Game in progress. ENTER QUIETLY."

"Already the social hub," Faro mutters and then jumps out of her skin when Thrawn agrees with her. Even in boots, he moves almost silently. "Let a lass know, sir! You almost scared it out of me!"

Thrawn's shadow - Vanto - is not here or otherwise she'd have stood a better chance of hearing the approach. He is looking at the sign-up sheet and then at the door sign, then turns to her.

"These are not like Scrabble?"

Pyro's love of table games is legend. She even collects them.

"No, Commodore. These are, well, a kind of strategy game." Thrawn visibly brightens. His skin changes color, his pupils disappear as the nictitating membrane crosses them in a three-part blink. "Players create characters and ascend levels in different scenarios called dungeons. It's kind of like academy war-gaming, but more flexible and personalized."

"They will not mind if we enter and observe?"

"They'll snap to attention for a flag officer on deck or I'll have them cleaning the stormtroopers' urinals with ear swabs, but I do not think they'll object."

Faro taps the hatch open and as they step in Vanto barks, "Commodore on deck!"

The response is satisfyingly swift.

"Officers, as you were," Thrawn nods. "I do not wish to disturb the game in progress, only to observe."

Of course, the furniture is bolted to the deck, but there are an additional folding couch and two additional folding chairs added to the room and-

"Pyrondi, where did you get the holotop?" Karyn hasn't seen one in probably twenty years. This one replaces the low table normally issued to this accommodation, bolted down as per regs. "It's got to be a month's pay."

"I bought it at an antiquities shop on Coruscant. Lomar did the new innards, and then all of us wrote code." Us being - apparently - herself, Lomar, Hammerly, Barlin, Agral, Yve, and Carvia.

"Major Carvia, what is your part in this madhouse?" The man budges loots up the couch to make room for their captain and commodore in the armchairs. "Surely you're not a player?"

"I helped Pyro carry this up here and did the coding for groundpounder dungeons. No offense, but this bunch is all Navy." The major wags his finger at Pyro. "I will thank you, youngster, not to refer to items as 'antiquities' that I am old enough to have owned brand new."

"Everyone do a stretch, get some snacks, and we'll come back into it in fifteen?" Pyro asks and everyone agrees, getting up a little stiffly after hours gaming. "Sync and go."

Thrawn looks over the table, at first studying the current dungeon, but then with more interest at the leather-bound manuals of flimsi, and beautifully made sets of dice and other paraphernalia.

"Please, Lieutenant, explain." Thrawn settles in one of the armchairs, accepting one of Pyro's fruit teas and a packet of sweets.

"Well, first these are the handbooks for players and dungeon masters. These others are for aspects - beings, arms, character classes." Pyrondi takes a small bag and empties it into her hand. "These are my dice."

"Is a gambling chip counted as dice?" Thrawn looks intently. "These are thystine and aurum leaf, correct?"

"If a binary decision is needed, yes, it counts. They are thystine, but as you can see, every player has their set and aside from the chip they can have sets of seven to fifteen, it depends what games they play."

Vanto's set is doonium, which makes Thrawn smile fleetingly. Carvia's is some kind of bone or ivory. Agral's is synthetic fireopal. All sets are as individual as the player.

Oh, no. ART.

"And what about the crystal ball?" Karyn asks. It's a perfect sphere set on an elaborate base.

"Oh, that's a toy I picked up from a junk dealer. He said it didn't work, but when you ask it a yes-or-no question it gives you a nonsensical answer. Watch. Is the mess going to serve hash for firstmeal again?"

The sphere roils with smoke and then shows a wavering answer in its center.

Better not tell you now.

"See? It gives positive, negative, or non-committal answers. To be fair, I don't want to know if we're having hash again."

The players filter back in and take their places as Thrawn is given a rough crash course in play. Pyrondi looks around, sets up a triptych screen to hide her materials and plans, and then asks if everyone is ready. Snacks and drinks to hand, all affirm and the game resumes. Karyn watches her superior as he watches the game with eyes bright. Pyro is a force of chaos and order, handling players firmly but also throwing wild situations at them. The dice can't be rigged or fooled on a dice pad, holding them firm.

Thrawn reminds his officers that night phase is coming, and they have watch coming up. The party breaks up with others putting the room back to order and bidding good rest.

"If you do not mind, Lieutenant, Captain Faro and I will join for the next game."

"Please do, sir. The more the merrier."

Karyn almost groans but holds it in.

"As I remember, you said the same thing before you wiped the walls with me at Scrabble."

Pyro only grins. "Good rest, sirs."

[sims4packsbasedlegacychallenge]

And so, it begins... a legacy style challenge

​And so, it begins... a legacy style challenge

For TS4 created by @accomplisheddoubt The official tag for this challenge is… #And so it begins LC

And so, it begins… is a legacy style challenge that will take your family from Base Game to High School Years over several generations. That said, high school years can and will be utilized prior to the final generation just as base game can and will be used after generation one. A few generations will have a sole pack it focuses on, while others may combine two or more packs. This legacy is meant to inspire, provide structure, and most importantly, be fun. If you don’t own a specific pack, or a specific generation doesn’t interest you, change it, make the challenge work for you.

Rules & General Information

This challenge is designed to utilize every stuff, game, and expansion pack for The Sims 4 with a few exceptions.

Each generation will have specific goals and a base storyline to follow, but the rest is up to you. I suggest having ‘wants’ on and going with the flow of the game. 

Aging can be set to normal, long, customized, or even short if you’d prefer the extra challenge.

If a generation doesn’t list all 3 traits (or you use the more traits in CAS mod) you may select traits you’d prefer or randomize them.

No money cheats! Money is easy enough to acquire.

Mods are allowed and encouraged to enhance gameplay.

Unless specifically stated in a generation, the number of children each heir has is up to you. Though you could make things more interesting by rolling 1-6 to determine the amount. Same goes for who is the selected heir. 

Each generation will start with money obtained by their parents, the exact amount is up to you and how much savings the previous generation has accumulated.

Though Cats and Dogs is not fully explored until generation 5, pets are allowed prior.

If you enjoy having an assigned color per generation, you can roll 1-17 for a randomized color or simply assign a color of your choosing per generation. Please note 17 colors are listed in anticipation of add-on generations. 

Apricot, Black, Blue, Brown, Green, Grey, Hot Pink, Lavender, Lime, Mint, Navy, Orange, Pink, Purple, Red, White, Yellow

Remember, while this legacy is meant to help explore the game and provide a set of goals to do so, it is also meant to be fun. If something doesn’t fit your style of gameplay, or your particular interests, change it.

Generation 1

       Base Game + Outdoor Retreat You were recruited into the S.I.M.S.  just out of high school, odd-right? You’ve been relocated to the quaint town of Willow Creek with instructions to blend in and keep your career a secret.  You were planning on taking a year off before finding a career so you could travel. Oh well, you’ll just find time to balance work and travel now. How hard could that be?

Aspiration(s): Neighborhood Confidante + Outdoor Enthusiast

Traits: Genius, Loves the Outdoors, Good

 Career: Secret Agent

World(s): Willow Creek + Granite Falls

Goals:

Move to Willow Creek with $20,000 in starting funds

Complete the Outdoor Enthusiast aspiration

Max the Secret Agent career in the Diamond Agent branch

Max the herbalism skill

Befriend the hermit in Granite Falls

Complete the insect’s collection and display them in your home

Take camping trips with future child(ren)

Optional: also complete the frogs collection

Generation 2

         Get to Work + Spa Day Your parents kept a collection of insects in the house, how gross! And family camping trips, ew. You would never do that to your children. But there was one thing you agreed on with your parents, taking care of yourself naturally. But instead of concocting herbalism potions, you’d prefer a more mindful and financially appeasing approach.

Aspiration(s): Self-Care Specialist

Traits: Squeamish, High Maintenance 

 Career: Own a Retail Business

World(s): Newcrest

Goals:

Move to Newcrest as a young adult

 Complete the Self-Care Specialist aspiration

 Own a 5-star retail business selling wellness items and offering spa services (may be in Newcrest or Magnolia Promenade) 

Max the wellness skill

Optional: build a small yoga studio at your business and offer weekend yoga classes

Generation 3

       Get Together Your parents were always so zen, how boring! You never bought into the whole “wellness” thing they profited on. Though you did admire their following. Fashion has always been of interest to you so as a young adult you move to an up-and-coming town in hopes to make a name for yourself. You have a lot of friends but no best friends.

Aspiration(s): Leader of the Pack + Friend of the World

Traits: Dance Machine, Insider, Outgoing

 Career: Style Influencer

World(s): Windenburg

Goals:

Move to Windenburg as a young adult

Complete the Leader of the Pack + Friend of the World aspirations

Max the Style Influencer career in the Trendsetter branch

Max the dancing and charisma skills

Have at least 2 failed marriages

Fight with partner on a regular basis, you love the drama

Optional: max DJ mixing skill

Generation 4

       Dine Out + City Living You admired your parent’s love for the night life, but you wanted more than Windenburg had to offer. Though they definitely skewed your perception of what love is supposed to look like. The city is full of potential partners and you aim to explore all your options. Your philosophy is to get out the second things begin to get too serious. You saw how often marriage fails, and you’ve got dreams to fulfill, who has time for that unnecessary heartbreak.

Aspiration(s): City Native + Serial Romantic

Traits: Foodie, Romantic, Noncommittal

 Career: Critic and own a restaurant 

World(s): San Myshuno

Goals:

Move to San Myshuno as a young adult

Complete the City Native + Serial Romantic aspirations

Max the Critic career in the Food Critic branch

Open a restaurant in the city that specializes in experimental food

Max the singing skill

Complete the Experimental Food Prints collection

Never marry; you may have a live in partner, a one-night stand that results in a pregnancy (may be a relationship that ends as partner does not want child), or adopt a baby as an adult

Never prioritize your child + only have 1 child

Optional: complete the city posters and/or snowglobes collection(s)

[if my first pet stuff is owned, use it to decorate generation 5’s room]

Generation 5

       Cats and Dogs + My First Pet As a child you always wanted a pet (cat or dog depending on trait), but your parent claimed it would be too much of a commitment. You resented them for always putting their career and romantic endeavors above you. A pet would never do that. So as soon as you’re of age, you move away from the city and settle down in Brindleton Bay where you open your own vet clinic. And adopt a bunch of pets. You even open your house to strays. Animals are all you need, until you finally find a person who shares your passion and respect for animals that is.

Aspiration(s): Friend of the Animals

Traits: Unflirty, Cat or Dog Lover

 Career: Own a vet clinic

World(s): Brindleton Bay

Goals:

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult

Must have the Cat Hangout + Dog Hangout lot traits

Complete the Friend of the Animals aspiration

Own a 5-star vet clinic

Max the pet training and veterinarian skills

Complete the Feathers collection

Fall in love with the owner of a patient after becoming friends first

Be good friends with your child(ren)

Generation 6

       Jungle Adventure Your parents were comfortable with their routine lives in a small town, but not you. You wanted to see the world, you desired adventure. Upon graduating high school you take your first trip to Selvadorada and it's as beautiful as you dreamed and full of adventure. From thereon you make it your life's mission to uncover all the mysteries of the jungle. 

Aspiration(s): Archeology Scholar + Jungle Explorer 

Traits: Loner, Kleptomaniac, Self-Assured

 Career: Freelancing, selling artifacts, or writing novels

World(s): Oasis Springs + Selvadorada

Goals:

Move to Oasis Springs as a young adult

Complete the Archeology Scholar + Jungle Explorer aspirations

Max the archaeology skill

Complete the Ancient Artifacts and Omiscan Treasures collections

Have child(ren) as an adult

Optional: fall in love with someone you meet in Selvadorada 

Optional: also complete The Curator aspiration

Generation 7

       Seasons + Parenthood Your parents' life was full of adventure. Which meant you were often left with your grandparents as they explored the wilderness of the jungle. And unlike your parent, you envied the stability of a peaceful routine life. You took up gardening as a teenager and discovered it to be your passion. And while you harbor no resentment for your parents' way of raising you, or lack thereof, you aspire to be a super parent to your future children. You want your children to feel loved and believe they truly can become anything they want to be when they grow up.

Aspiration(s): Super Parent

Traits: Family-Oriented

 Career: Gardener

World(s): any previous world of your choosing

Goals:

Move to any previous world of your choosing as a young adult

Complete the Super Parent aspiration

Max the Gardener career in the Flower Arranging branch

Max the flower arranging, gardening, and parenting skills

Have 2 - 4 children

Enroll your children in Scouts

Celebrate every holiday with your family

Complete the holiday cracker plushies and decorative eggs collections

Optional: complete the voidcritter cards collection

Optional: have a family member max the skating skill

Optional: move to Del Sol Valley when generation 8’s heir is a teenager

Generation 8

       Get Famous Your parents' always told you that you could become anything you wanted, and well, you aspire big. And your parents are your number one fans. You began showing interest in acting as a child after participating in a school play so your parents enrolled you in a drama club after school where your love for the craft grew. 

Aspiration(s): World-Famous Celebrity + Master Actor

Traits: Self-Absorbed

 Career: Drama club, Actor

World(s): Del Sol Valley

Goals:

Move to Del Sol Valley as a young adult (if family did not relocate to Del Sol prior)

Complete the World-Famous Celebrity + Master Actor aspirations

Max the Actor career

Max the acting, charisma, and media production skills

Have a child with a fellow famous sim

Optional: enroll child(ren) in drama club to encourage their love for the spotlight

Generation 9

       Strangerville Being raised in the spotlight took a toll on your sanity. As a teenager you began searching for penpals as a way to connect with someone who doesn’t know your family and the fame that follows you. You grew paranoid that no one actually cares for you as an individual but for your family's celebrity status so you decided to move to an odd little desert town where no one knew who you were. And after the strangest welcome wagon one could imagine, you begin to discover something is not quite right in this seemingly ‘perfect’ town. You join the military to blend in and uncover its secrets.

Aspiration(s): Strangerville Mystery

Traits: Paranoid

 Career: Military

World(s): Strangerville

Goals:

Move to Strangerville as a young adult

Complete the Strangerville Mystery aspiration

Max the Military career in the Covert Operator branch

Max the athletic skill

Be a strict parent as you know the world is unsafe

Enroll your child(ren) in after school activities to keep them busy and productive

Complete the postcard collection

Generation 10

       Island Living Having a military parent was tiresome. Who decided life had to be taken so seriously anyway? And what fun is living in such a hot climate when there is no beach around to cool off in? You very quickly fall in love with the island and seek to help improve it.

Aspiration(s): Beach Life

Traits: Loves the Outdoors

 Career: Conservationist 

World(s): Sulani

Goals:

Move to Sulani as a young adult

Complete the Beach Life aspiration

Max the Conservationist career in the Environmental Manager branch

Help clean up the island

Attend every island event at least once

Complete the seashells, buried treasure, and underwater photos collections

Optional: have a child with a mermaid and give that child the child of the oceans trait

Optional: have a child with an island local and give that child the child of the islands trait

Generation 11

       Eco Lifestyle + Nifty Knitting (optional) You admired your parents desire for a cleaner environment. But you felt it wasn’t enough. After learning of Evergreen Harbor’s environmental state, you knew it was your destiny to improve it.

Aspiration(s): Eco Innovator + Master Maker (up to level 4)

Traits: Freegan, Green Fiend, Recycle Disciple

 Career: Civil Designer

World(s): Evergreen Harbor

Goals:

Move to Evergreen Harbor as a young adult

Have the off-the-grid lot trait

Complete the Eco Innovator + Master Maker (up to level 4) aspirations

Max the Civil Designer career in the Green Technician branch

Max the fabrication and juice fizzing skills

Befriend the Master Crafter

Vote on N.A.P.s and improve the neighborhood you live in

Own a meat wall, insect farm, and live in a container home

Optional: obtain at least 50% of your household items through dumpster diving, flea market festivals, and fabrication

Optional: retire from the Civil Designer career as an elder and complete the 5 freelance crafter gigs to complete the Master Maker aspiration

Optional: master lord/lady of the knits aspiration and/or knitting skill as well

Generation 12

       Paranormal + Dream Home Decorator Ever since you can remember you would look at a building or a room and instantly envision how it could be improved. Your parent was a Civil Designer and you always wished they had chosen the civic planner branch.  You just never understood the fascination with going green. You purchase a home with tremendous potential though a bit of a fixer upper and soon discover it's quite haunted. After years of honing your craft of designing, you switch career paths and become a dedicated paranormal investigator.

Aspiration(s): aspiration of your choosing

Traits: Creative

 Career: Interior Decorator, Freelance Paranormal Investigator

World(s): any previous world of your choosing

Goals:

Move to any previous world of your choosing as a young adult

Purchase a fixer upper home with the haunted house lot assignment

Complete the aspiration of your choosing 

Max the Interior Decorator career + complete at least 5 paranormal investigator gigs

Max the medium skill

Befriend Guidry

Purchase the brave reward trait after mastering the medium skill

Optional: the haunted house you purchase is in one of the occult worlds

Optional: to make this generation less boring, randomize the aspiration, traits, # of children, world to live in, # of romantic partners to be had, etc.

Generation 13

       Cottage Living Your parents may have enjoyed the haunted house vibes, but you certainly did not. You loved your grandparents and their simple ways of living. When they passed you vowed to honor their memory by moving to the countryside and living off the land doing your part to make the world a greener place..

Aspiration(s): Country Caretaker 

Traits: Animal Enthusiast

 Career: selling items from your farm at the market

World(s): Henford-on-Bagley

Goals:

Move to Henford-on-Bagley as a young adult

Have the off-the-grid and simple living lot traits

Complete the Country Caretaker aspiration

Max the gardening and cross-stitch skills

Run at least 3 errands around town

Befriend everyone you help with errands

Give generation 14 heir the lactose intolerant trait as a child

Complete the Village Fair Ribbons collection

Optional: complete the Freelance Botanist aspiration as well

Optional: have at least 3 children, each getting one of the following traits; overachiever (gen 14 heir), party animal, and socially awkward 

Generation 14

       High School Years + University + My Wedding Stories Country life wasn’t for you. And being lactose intolerant while being raised on a farm really made life difficult. The world was such a big place and you felt trapped in the countryside eagerly waiting till you could explore what was out there. Being your family never made much money, you knew you needed scholarships and part-time work if you were ever going to make it to university.

Aspiration(s): Goal-Oriented, Academic, Soulmate

Traits: Lactose Intolerant, Overachiever, Romantic

 Career: part-time career of your choosing, University student, Education

World(s): Britechester, Copperdale, Tartosa

Goals:

As a teenager max a part-time career + after school activity

Move to Britechester as a young adult while you work on your degree and move to Copperdale after graduation

Complete the Goal-Oriented, Academic, + Soulmate aspirations

In university join an organization

Obtain a distinguished degree in Economics or Psychology

Max the Education career in the Administrator branch

Max the logic + research and debate skills

Meet your future spouse in university

Plan at least 2 of the events that come with My Wedding Stories

Marry, honeymoon, and later renew vows in Tartosa

Complete the Messages in a bottle collection

Optional: take at least one family vacation with your child(ren) to Tartosa

[blues824]

Since Malleus' B-day is coming up, can I have Malleus' s/o cook him an entire surprise feast for his birthday?

Special thanks to @roxanavanrouge2400 for reminding me! I spent a good few hours on this.

Established relationship, gender-neutral reader.

Happy Birthday, Malleus Draconia!

He was so happy to have received an invitation to Ramshackle, even if it was because you were hosting his birthday party there. He was amused when you ushered him past your dorm at night because you were making preparations with the rest of the Housewardens.

That’s right, all of the Housewardens pitched in. They still owed you for helping them while they overblotted, and this was one hell of a way to pay their debt. They did have fun, especially with employing their own dorms in helping. Malleus felt so giddy inside knowing that everyone was doing this for him.

He didn’t know any details about it. He only saw a few people going in and out of the dorm with decorations and packaging from said decorations. Lilia, Silver, Sebek were all ordered to make sure he didn’t go inside. It was suffocating because he usually did his nightly walks with you, but you were just so busy preparing for his big day.

“My dearest Child of Man, I implore you to show me what it looks like inside. I do not think this dragon can hold back his burning curiosity,” He said to you one day as you were both walking to your next classes.

“Tsunotarou, you will see in due time. It might not be as grand as the celebrations you have in Briar Valley, but I promise you will enjoy it just the same, darling,” You responded with the smile that he absolutely adored.

You couldn’t help but coo at how adorable he was, with his excitement just brewing in him like a potion. You reached up to hold his face in your hands and press your forehead to his before making your way through the classroom door. Oh, you were such a tease.

Eventually, the day had arrived. It was a day of excitement for Malleus, and he could hardly wait for it after school. You gave him a birthday gift earlier to appease some of his curiosity. It was something practical, like a set of new pillows and a small serving of mint ice cream. You explained that the real gift would be later.

When the bell rang to signal the end of the classes for the day. The dragon fae rushed to Diasomnia to change into more appropriate attire for the party. All of his retainers joined in making sure your dorm was ready. They then sent him a message saying they were ready to receive him.

He decided to take the long route and walk there. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts before he headed to Ramshackle. He was so excited about what you had in store, he was sure that it was going to be great.

When he got to the door, you were the one to greet him. He had grabbed your hands gently in his, raised them to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss onto them. He never failed to make you swoon. You giggled and led him inside.

The moment he made it through the door frame, confetti poppers went off. Everyone shouted ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’. He was startled at first, pulling you to him, before he realized what it was. He let out a roar of laughter, as did everyone else. Then you declared that the party had begun.

There were games, food, everything the Prince could ever ask for. You stuck by his side as he enjoyed the activities and appetizers. He even grabbed a chip and held it to your mouth so you could eat it. Cater most definitely snapped pictures and posted them (with your consent, of course). 

His favorite games would have to be pin the horns on the dragon and hit the piñata. He actually wasn’t the one who busted open the piñata. It was Rook. He congratulated the hunter before moving on to the other activity. At some point, you had disappeared.

He heard your sweet voice call out that food was ready. He went outside where the set up was and he was surprised by all the food that was there. You went up to your beloved dragon and jokingly assured him that none of the food was made by Lilia (it was actually true. There was no way you were going to poison your guests like that).

You sat him at the end of the feast table, and he asked you to sit beside him. After all, it was a royal custom to have the spouse sit next to the monarch. You were happy to see him indulge in many conversations with his peers. He honestly couldn’t remember a time where he was this happy.

Thank you, Y/N. I will have to repay this favor on your day of birth.

[needfantasticstories]

Day 1: Helpless

TW: divine possession, slight body horror, traumatic flashbacks

Characters: Sun (Linked Universe), Hylia (The Legend of Zelda)

Divine Disturbance

(Connects to Hidden Heroes)

Zelda lay in bed in her Knight’s Academy dorm, her eyes refusing to stay closed. She stroked the remlit curled at her side and stared at the rafters obscured in shadows above. Only a patch of waning moonlight from the window, pale and ghostly, outlined her room. 

She scratched gently behind the remlit’s floppy ear, smiling despite a twinge of jealousy at its easy rest. She knew, from seventeen years of existing as a mortal girl, that she needed sleep. It would heal her body from the day spent sparring, studying, and running around the islands as a representative of the village council. She needed the rest, but the divine within her resented it.

DO NOT LOSE A MOMENT! ARISE! 

Not again… Hylia, we’re mortal now. We need to rest. Like in the crystal, Zelda thought to her former self, to the enormous ghost that lingered within her. The goddess seemed to grow more persistent every day. She dragged Zelda’s thoughts and emotions into another life at the smallest hints of her old one. A breath of mint or rosemary might send her dancing as she had in courts of old before her feet realized they were moving. It was rather embarrassing during lunch in the dining hall, but luckily Link and Groose began to clap along, causing Pipit and Karane and Fletch to tap their feet somewhat hesitantly too, and by the time Zelda became fully aware of her presence at breakfast and not the leading a Royal Ball, her friends had appeased the questioning stares with generous laughter, as if it was all a joke they had planned. Link bowed and led her to her history tutor before anyone could ask for an explanation,  so it faded into another silly story the others would sometimes joke about at gatherings. Silly, spontaneous Zelda. She did not appreciate the changes in her reputation. She’d rather remain known as “level-headed” and “determined,” especially as an aspiring member of the Council.

She didn’t mind the changes brought on by the goddess’ knowledge when she finally beat both Link and Captain Eagus at sparring, to everyone’s surprise. Link guessed rightly that the goddess had something to do with it, and he’d beamed at her when she’d confirmed his theory in private. His eyes, so proud and trusting and full of admiration, made her heart ache. Who did he love, really? 

More recently, a simple tune hummed by Peatrice as she passed on the road had sent Zelda’s mind into a panic, racing to the edge to leap after her hero. The Song of Mourning, she knew all of the sudden, the last she’d sung after… he’s struggling down there all alone and DEAD DEAD DEAD! She’d raced to the skydock and leapt, desperate to find him in the clouds, ready to soar on her own wings, blade at the ready to face Demise and stop him but knowing it was already too late. 

Luckily, she’d come to herself as the wind whipped her shawl over her eyes. She’d resheathed her sword and called her loftwing, Indigo, to catch her before plunging into the cloud barrier where no loftwing could follow. 

She grew afraid of the goddess, for the first time, and prayed to her past self that it would not happen again. The power had hummed like an earthquake inside her, and she hoped it understood.

Most of the time, if she could manage to close herself from the tides of emotions, she could get by. She could act normal. After all, how could she explain?

Gondo would present the council with the newest set of repaired robots and explain about the wonder of wires and circuits, and she could pretend she didn’t remember how to infuse a consciousness within a machine with just the right spell, if only she could access Hylia’s magic at will. It would mean nothing to them. 

When Link would wonder about his predecessor, how could she spoil his day by expressing the overwhelming love she felt for a man a thousand years in his grave, a stranger to them both, while feeling that same love for the young man at her side, as if they were the same? How could she explain that she would always see their faces overlapping? 

When she’d burst into tears of joy at finding a large seed on the Surface, how could she explain the faint memories of Deku trees planted and nurtured in places she knew by heart but would never find again? She wasn’t even sure if they came before her era, or after. How could she explain so much with so little?   

She couldn't, so she didn’t. 

Instead, she found ways to explain away the strange, divine impulses as excitement, silly curiosity, a flight of fancy, or beginner’s luck. 

Link. Groose. Father. They knew she was the goddess’s mortal form, but they would never understand. So she bore the goddess alone.  

Fear swelled in deep corners of her mind. Trapped. Small. Constricted. Her head stung from the pressure of condensed sunlight burning, burning, burning within it. The Sacred Springs had been excruciating but short-lived, and the Goddess had settled quickly after each cleansing,  even if the goddess’s commands frustrated Zelda long after. Now, she was a mouse that had swallowed a dragon, a divine beast of dazzling power, perpetually in motion and raging, and Zelda was about to crack at any moment. Her heart beat like a drum against her ribs. Delicate webs of nerves danced and screamed at every turn of the divine mind as it struggled to comprehend this new world through the bars of a tiny mortal prison. 

Sensing the danger, the power began to ease: hot but no longer blazing; pounding, but no longer bursting. 

Zelda gasped, able to move on her own once more. She rolled out of her smothering, feather-filled blanket and settled flat on her back, letting the night air cool her. One hand buried in the fur of the fluffy animal still sleeping beside her and another hand pressed against her own chest, as the thud thud thud of two mismatched hearts reverberated in her palms. At last, her own thundering cacophony began to steady and slow. She breathed in and out, measuring each breath evenly. 

I am still me. I am the same Zelda. Just…changed…  

She addressed her thoughts to the divine ghost within. I need to sleep, Dear Hylia.

DEITIES DO NOT SLEEP. 

The declaration wrenched her eyes open. She startled so sharply that her little remlit companions yowled, shot out of the nest of blankets, then scrambled under the bed. 

Zelda sighed, and wiped sweat from her brow as her heartbeat picked up again. She longed to agree with the goddess. So often, sleep brought breathtaking, confusing, or nightmarish memories that left her heart longing or broken, her eyes red and swollen from weeping from the memory of loss and failure and a world nearly destroyed. Beneath it all an ocean of rage and regret: THEY ARE DEAD! THEY ARE HURTING! THEY ARE LOST! HE IS DEAD, HE IS DEAD, HE IS DEAD! HOW CAN A GODDESS OF TIME BE LATE? CELESTIAL MOTHERS, HOW DID I FAIL HIM?  

The goddess supplied herself a furious answer, the waves of rage swelling, and it set Zelda’s heart racing again. I TOLERATED AND IGNORED DEMISE FOR TOO LONG. I COMMANDED THE HERO TO FIGHT BEFORE HE WAS READY. I FEARED MY SHADOW, AND MADE HIM FACE IT IN MY STEAD. 

Please, stop! Quiet quiet quiet! Zelda begged the divine as it threatened to drown her. What mortal could bear such rage? Such despair? Such love? Such hatred, all at once? There was nowhere for it to go, and she could not contain it.

She tried to turn aside, to cry into her pillow, but she couldn’t move. Helpless, she realized tonight was far different than other memories.  Vivid to the point of blindness, she saw a flash of light as the might of Fi’s power shot up to the sky, but her wielder needed her! NOW! Zelda…no, Hylia was falling, not soaring and barely controlled, yet still so far away from him, too weak to simply appear at his side. Tears streamed  NO! TOO LATE! This despair was no longer a swell, but an electric shock. Zelda seized up at the sight of those dead-white eyes on the hero’s beautiful, serene face, and when the vision closed at last she gasped and curled tightly on herself. She had sensed every vein and sinew in the man’s body, and in what order they stopped functioning. No one should know so much about the death of another, nor should she so love a stranger, no matter how like her own Link he appeared. 

The self-loathing of a goddess was more than she could bear.

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, and they shot open again. And again. And again. The visions crowded her room. She cried for the goddess’s hurt, for her frustration at mortal limits, for memories she did not want to see, for the goddess’s anger at being trapped as a mortal, and her own anger at being swallowed by the divine. But she could not move, her body completely in the hands of the goddess, and her grief was still rising higher. If she could, she’d have screamed in agony. 

 Link is not dead! Her usual first line of defense from these divine, dark thoughts seemed so small tonight, and made no difference. She tried again. He’s alive! Let me rest!  

Link is alright. He’s safe. You saved him! 

Zelda’s assurances pushed back as weak as a breath compared to the goddess’s tempest. Usually, it was enough to redirect the momentum toward happier thoughts, and then the goddess would grace her with more pleasant or helpful memories.  

Not tonight. Her assurances only seemed to exacerbate the goddess’s fury and terror.  More memories flooded her, new and unfamiliar. Knights swiping blades to cut her down, giant spiders crawling closer, pale dead hands reaching from the floor, and the silhouette of a man, his laughter cruel and grating, as he stood victorious over a dark shape on the floor. A crown glistened in the space between them, and— 

Please, let me sleep! she begged as another swell of jumbled images and sensations and feelings too complex to parse threatened to crash over her and sweep her away into oblivion. Her head throbbed and grew feverishly hot with the effort to keep herself in one piece as her mind pulled a thousand directions at once. Excruciating pain and exhaustion and the fierce will to live and the threat of death all wrapped in one overwhelming feeling. She was being consumed. 

WE ARE SAFE! She barely kept from screaming her thoughts out loud. THE WORLD IS SAFE! 

HE IS NOT SAFE! the storm shrieked back at her. THE WORLD IS NOT SAFE!

She knew that Link slept in the room almost below hers, just one off, and by this hour he would be snoring by now, safe and sound. Demise and his blade were dead. 

He’s here! It’s over! It’s done! There’s nothing more you can do! Haven't you done enough?  

The goddess’s wrath slowed, and the storm became a whispered song of hope at the thought Zelda had conjured of Link, safe and asleep. 

And then, nothing. The storm dissolved. She’d finally shut up. 

Only whisper’s of Indigo’s dreams remained, chasing skytails, mercifully free of the Goddess’s storms.  

Zelda drew a slow, deep breath as her palms lifted off her sweaty hair. Has it truly stopped? Her hands lingered by her ears, ready to resume the desperate hold on her aching head. But nothing disturbed her thoughts now, and her room was starkly quiet in the pallid moonlight. 

Zelda sighed in relief. At last, she could rest.  

She retrieved the down-filled blanket she’d kicked onto the floor. Autumn air chilled the night, and she tucked the blanket close around her, and wiped her brow with her sleeve. Ignoring the sweat drying on her skin, she basked in the quiet and calm. Her body relaxed, at its limit. Each night, for three nights, she’d wrestled with the Goddess, and she was done. 

Hylia, please be at peace, she prayed, hoping to keep the goddess appeased. It is over. Demise is gone. You saved everyone. Your hero is alive. 

Even without the goddess’s urging, she would always watch over Link. Not that many threats remained: a few monsters on the Surface they’d face together, nosy questions about their time on the surface, rude comments about his lightning scars. Not that he couldn’t deal with them on his own, but his state had been fragile the first month, and she still struggled not to hover. 

She owed him that much: from her failure as the goddess to her failure as a friend he’d trusted. At Hylia’s bidding, she’d thrown him into danger. The goddess had been only a blessing back then, and who was she to question divinity? She would not make that mistake again.

But Link had volunteered after he knew the truth, and he’d faced the demon that had hunted her and her people thousands of years ago. He was just a boy, barely seventeen, and he’d saved her and the world from the jaws of Demise. 

She owed him the world. And all he asked for was her friendship. Not her love, or her favor, but her company.  

Her mind grew heavy and thick, full of pleasant dreams: playing in a fairy fountain with tiny sisters, taking in the healing magic and soft glowing light.

Do not sleep, daughter of my soul. Take up my blade. Tear the monster asunder. Break him across the ages. More must be done. Finish it. 

The new thought jostled her awake. Zelda groaned, but paused. Something was different. The goddess felt calm and aware, like a remlit ready to pounce rather than a storm. Why had the idea come after she’d already felt her mind close to the deity only moments ago? 

Zelda sat up and moved to the window. Above Skyloft floated the silhouette of Sir Hawke, and she knew whoever had nightwatch with him flew below the islands, ready to catch anyone Sir Hawke might have missed.  

Nothing else stirred. Her head swam as she stood, protesting at being awake for two days and counting. Her joints felt like chu jelly, weakening while she stood. Is this long enough? Are you finally resting? 

Stillness followed. Optimistic, she returned to bed. 

Silence. Blessed silence.

Quietness settled over Zelda’s body again as she burrowed in downy covers. At last, she sighed in relief. Within seconds she lay on the brink of sleep.

A yell from downstairs shocked her upright. She recognized the tenor of that voice. 

Link.