#I mean a juice keg

[squintsintwink]

I love posting gallery builds bc I get to make silly descriptions about the most simple beach in the history of sims 4 beach builds

[cowgirlcherrie]

Novocaine pt. 1 ━━ ゜゜・．

pairing: College! Abby x friend!crush!fem! reader

prompt: F is for friday’s, but its also for Frats and Fucked up parties, its even worse when the night out doesn’t go as planned choosing to numb emotions with alcohol and weed

warnings: 18+, MDNI, intoxication, partying, alcohol, drunk reader, mean-ish! comedic relief! Ellie, cheating, smoking, weed. almost kissing, heavy cursing, touching, Abby has a toxic girlfriend, substance abuse-ishhh (its only Abby smoking to forget, Reader drinking to also forget), jealousy, angsty

song: novacane by frank ocean

any words highlighted blue in the fic are the lyrics to the song, this fic is based off of the song roughlyy,

a/n: This…. honestly biting my fist at the tension between Abby and the reader, but this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written, I love the dynamic between the reader n Abby where you can feel they are playing it safe even though they want to, based off of novacane by frank ocean which helped me to write this (do listen), but I hope you all enjoy this, thank you for the support on my work so far I appreciate it so so much, sit back n enjoy ♡

I blame it on the model broad with the Hollywood smile...

It was Friday, and as always Fridays were for the frat opens and free alcohol. Now at first, you weren’t considering going, opting to instead stay at your dorm instead and watch movies until your eyes hung low and couldn’t bare to stay open anymore. But of course, Abby dragged you out to join her and her girlfriend at the party. You were rather frustrated, but Abby was just one person you couldn’t say no to. Yet the fired heart of yours was destroyed at the sight of seeing Abby with a girlfriend. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn’t you to be able to see the raw and authentic parts of her, but rather the campus wanna-bee model broad who dipped her energy into too many people. Abby played it off that she was just friendly, but all you could see was CHEATER above her head in bold red letters. Her smile wasn’t sweet but rather devious and manipulative. According to Ellie, the girl was going to school for dentistry, but adapted to a side hustle of sugar daddies to pay off her tuition. You couldn’t blame the girl, but it seemed like Abby didn’t know what the girl did when the lights were off.

She said she wanna be a dentist really badly

She's in school paying for tuition doing porn in the Valley

At least you working…

So here you were, pushing through the busy crowd of drunk young adults, grinding against each other under the changing LEDS to the beat of the music and a cup filled with awful jungle juice from the keg. Pulling the cup up to your lips to take a sip of the alcohol mix, wincing at the cold beverage going down your throat leaving a burning sensation in your chest. It wasn’t good but it helped you get drunk to survive the next 4 hours at the party. One cup became two...which became 3 and eventually 4. Somewhere into the night, you lost Abby, who somehow knew everyone there, who somehow lost her girlfriend in the fit of people. Last time you saw the couple they were arguing in a corner, Abby’s face scrunching in irritation as her arms crossed her chest, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend. Her partner touched up and down Abby’s arm, pleading with the girl about something. But from the look of It, Abby was denying it, shaking her head at the girl. The couple had been always arguing, it seemed their honeymoon stage was short-lived as their rocky foundation came cracking down and now their arguments and make-up sex ruled the relationship. 

Now you were lost, not even sure if Abby was still here or if she decided to call Ellie to come pick her up and take her home. Suddenly you needed air, the sweaty bodies making your clothes feel a lot damp in comparison to how they felt when you first went in. You were going up the stairs from the basement holding tightly to your cup as you passed people who were headed towards your direction, at the stairs, were pushing and shoving. Entering the kitchen area which was, of course, filled with more bodies and a specific face catching your eye.

Abby’s girlfriend, stood there in all her glory, flashing her friends a billion dollar smile while hanging off of the arm of some frat member, kissing the guy as his arms were all over her. The crowd around them cheering in surprise. Your heart sank, where was Abby? This was not good, making your heart beat fast, watching as the two leaned in to kiss each other…again, now in a full make-out next to the alcohol table. Your eyes went wide, causing you to turn tightly on your heals bolting for the door. Making your way out of the house in a hurry, it didn’t help that you were drunk and your heart was now beating in your ears replacing the deep bass of the music. Converse at one with the black-top pavement, your right hand resting against the side of the house as you stumbled to the front lawn, between the gate and driveway. You were almost there when swiftly your body collided with a hard chest letting out a grunt as their hands wrapped around your waist, to shield you from falling.

“Y/n?” You knew that voice, it was Abby’s, you finally found the girl after looking for her for half of your night. Her hands were still at your waist, slightly squeezing it, with her nails digging into the side of your smooth skin to get you out of the trance you were in. Abby was really touchy, especially when it came to you, you don’t know why she did it but you tried not to take it too literally. Get your head out of the gutter, you would think. You panicked gripping her arms when she finally pulled you away from her chest to get a good look at you, scanning your body to see if something happened by how hard you were breathing and how fast you were moving.

You put me on a feeling I never had, never had, never had (never)…

“You look like you seen a ghost…shit, what’s wrong” Abby questioned. You parted your lips to say something making eye contact with Abby, but you quickly looked away, dropping your head as your lips closed again and nothing came out.

“Have you seen my girlfriend?” Abby questioned, your heart aching at the question. Abby mind-as-well take a knife to your heart and stabbed you with it. You weren’t gonna lie to her, you couldn’t but you knew the reaction Abby would have as soon as the words left your mouth. Abby didn’t like the look you were giving her, you look guilty, almost regretful, the same look you give when you answer something wrong or did something you definitely shouldn’t have.

I think I started somethin' , I got what I wanted, Did-didn't, I

“…Abby,” you dragged, your voice at the same tone as doctors when they prepare to give you the worst possible news of your life, and with that you started shaking your head. All you could do is lowly point to the kitchen as Abby’s eyes followed the direction you were pointing to,  the soft gaze she usually gives you instantly developed to one that was cold and avoidant. Abby didn’t speak further, rubbing her fingers at the side of your waist for a second, as if she had been thinking about what to say or what to do, her hands were delicate with you and almost soothing, but your body felt cold as she let go and walked right past you and into the house.

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you had been holding, cursing to your self as you pushed yourself into the wall with your hands on your knees. The bile forming at the back of your throat making you drop the red solo cup. Luckily for you, throwing up was not an option in that moment and you gave your self a minute to go walk to the road. As you make your way to the curb, sitting yourself on the gravel as you tucked your head down on your arms that were resting on your knees, rocking swiftly to ease you from chucking out everything you had drunk in the last hour.

You were in a daze failing to notice the jingling keys coming from behind you as an arm came down to touch your back making you jump. Head up and looking around in bewilderment. 

“Hey, it’s just me..” Abby whispered, her soft voice contrasting with the loudness of the house behind the two of you. It’s not that you felt bad for Abby, well you did, but instead it was the jungle juice you had not mixing well with your empty stomach. You tucked your head back into your arms. Abby knew you were drunk out of your mind, the way your words slurred or the rambles coming from your mouth before finding that her girlfriend was truly up to know good like everyone said she was. 

“Um thank—“ Abby cut herself off kneeling to sit next to you on the curb, before trying to make her statement again.

“I’m not the type to say it, and you know that but..um, thank you,” Abby muttered, looking at you fully this time as she closed the distance between the two of you on the curb, her hip touching yours as her hand continued to rub circles in your back. This time you could smell the pine cologne radiating off of her and her body heat keeping you warm in the night chill. 

“What..hmph, what are you thanking me for Abby?” You groaned, your voice soft, feeling a bit of nervousness start to take over your form, you refused to look at Abby from your current position, rather finding your arms way more interesting in the current moment.

“Thanks for not lying to me..I guess, I don’t know” Abby let out a swift nervous laugh. You felt her body vibrate as she laughed before she cleared her throat again.

“No, I'm serious this time——“ 

“Thank me one more time and I’m gonna kill you,” You mumbled, voice monotone, causing Abby to laugh again. This time her hand snaked up your back, sending a shiver down your spine, causing your body to jolt making Abby smirk from her position. Her gentle yet roughened hands moved to your cheek to move hair out of your face and behind your ear. 

“Mm..you know what, she didn’t deserve you” you confessed, making Abby freeze. You weren’t sure where this sudden liquid courage came from, hell you couldn’t think straight. Now you were just saying things, but you always thought it, and it was true. She didn’t deserve Abby, or how much Abby sacrificed to be with her, almost damaging her reputation. 

“I know,” Abby put in, shutting her lips tightly, her face shifting to more stoic as her she put her tongue to her cheek before smacking her lips. 

“Do you..?” You slurred, hiccuping as you spoke now looking up to finally look at Abby. She looked so pretty under the moonlight, her hair in its usual braid as she wore a simple black tee with her pretty chain sitting across her neck. Untouched. Your eyes met hers, low yet full of adoration and admiration, and your eyes flickered to her lips. You didn’t know what you were doing, it was as if someone had been taking control over your body. 

novocaine, baby I want you...

“I don’think you do” your voice came out below a whisper, taking your hand up to play with the chain around her neck as she leaned in closer to you, she could smell the alcohol on your breath and you could smell the cologne that didn’t seem to go away. It was almost as if you had put a spell on her, your presence numbing the heartbreak she experienced just a few minutes ago. You were numbing the pain for her.

just one taste, a little taste, she wanted you to love her numb

love me now, when I'm gone love me numb...

“n'you do?” Abby questioned, bringing her hand up to grip your face, as the two of you were practically on top of each other, her lips hovering over yours but before she could lay a gentle kiss, the two of you were interrupted by loud music coming from down the street. Making the two of you jump apart, opening the gap between the two of you on the curb. The car’s brakes screeched stopping in front of the two of you at the curb, it was Ellie. Of course. You gave Abby one last final look, but she had been too distracted by Ellie’s sudden appearance to give one back.

“I’m seriously gonna start fucking charging y’all, I’m not a damn uber” Ellie groaned, turning down the music so that the two of you could hear her. 

“Hurry the fuck up! Let’s go!” Ellie sassed, hitting the side of her door, as her arm hanged out the window. Abby only shook her head at her best friend, standing up then looking back in your direction and grabbing your arm to pull you up. 

“I owe you!” Abby shouted at Ellie who only mocked the girl as a response, Abby dragged you by your arm to the backseat of the car, almost like you were a rag doll. Opening the door swiftly with her freehand before giving you one last look.

“Get in baby,” Abby lectured, guiding you in with her hand on your back. You complied, climbing into Ellie’s back seat sitting up firmly as Abby closed the door behind you after making sure your feet were tucked in. As soon as the door shut you fell over in Ellie’s backseat with a groan. The loud smell of weed, and the rap music coming through the speakers made you feel like you were back at the basement of the party.

“Throw up in my backseat and your washing my whole car, oh!— and with your bare hands y/n I’m not playing with you” Ellie shouted which only earned a groan from you in response,

“Whyyy are you yelling,” you whined as your hands went up to cover your face.

“The fuck did you drink?” Ellie drew her face back in confusion at your attitude before turning the music up a little bit louder. Abby was now in the passenger seat fiddling with her phone, occasionally checking on you in the back, which you had now passed out. The windows cracked just enough for fresh air as Ellie drove back to your dorm complex. The car was completely silent as Ellie handed Abby a pre-rolled blunt and her lighter from the glove compartment. Abby silently thanked, feeding into the temptation and putting the blunt to her lips. releasing the smoke as she tilted her head back into the headrest. If she was gonna be fucked up, she might as well have been high. Sending a: “we’re over, for good. Get your shit and go bitch” text to her girlfriend— well ex-girlfriend with ease. Abby turned her head to look at you who was still sleeping in the back, letting out soft snores that could be heard through the music as your hair blocked your face.  

but, girl, I can't feel my face, what are we smokin' anyway...

“Fuck…” Abby cried out 

“Dude, turn that down she’s sleeping” Abby snapped reaching her hand for the volume button making the music at a moderately low volume, it didn’t help that Ellie was playing Marvin’s Room by Drake that made her want to bash her head into the window. Ellie was preparing to argue, but chose not to realizing the shitty night the two of you were having. 

“You know I’ve never seen her drink this much” Ellie sighed. You were like a little sister to her and she wondered what it was that drove you to keep drowning yourself in cups. Abby hummed bringing the blunt up to her lips realizing she hasn’t either 

“Same,” Abby blurted out as she detached the blunt from her lips really thinking about the situation as a whole. Abby felt paralyzed almost numb in the seat, especially when her ex-girlfriend now crossed her mind, her heart went cold, and she couldn't feel a thing. “—well I lost her, halfway through the night, she probably started drinking because she was alone” Abby confessed feeling guilty that she didn’t stick up under you all night which probably would have resulted in the both of you having a better night. 

“You mean to tell me…you were so pussy whipped you failed to see that, that girl” Ellie pointed at you, “Was missing from behind you” Ellie finished throwing her hands in the air for a quick second before reattaching them to the wheel. Abby sighed in response realizing how shitty she looked in this situation, and you already didn’t want to come which made her feel bad in the first place. 

“When are you gonna start being honest with yourself Abby?” Ellie sneered as her eyes were focused on the road.

“About what?”

“About what?” 

“The truth is you like y/n” Ellie revealed turning her head slightly to see Abby’s reaction. Abby paused at Ellie’s words. Well yes, she liked you, anyone would like you! The way your hair flowed as you walked, the way you laughed, or the way your nose scru— fuck. She really did like you. Abby gave Ellie a look putting out the empty blunt in her hand, and stuffing the lighter back in the glove compartment. Abby was now burning holes in the side of Ellie’s head. 

now I'm something like the chemist on campus, but there's no drug's around, quite like what I found in you

“Pft..no” Abby hesitated to answer, rubbing off what she said. While you were her friend, she was always going to look out for you because no one could do an efficient job of doing so. Yet she felt that she could. Abby scratched her neck, muting her phone that had been blowing up with a text from her ex-girlfriend cursing her out. 

“I’m calling you bluff” Ellie speculated, shaking her head as her hands gripped the wheel even more. Abby parted her lips to rebuttal Ellie’s statement but was cut off when Ellie suddenly began to lecture her. 

“For one second I’m telling you to think that just maybe what you thought you wanted with— whatever the fuck her name is, wasn’t genuine, but you felt as though you wanted y/n the whole time yet you thought you couldn’t have her”

Well, shit. Call Ellie a tarot reader for the way she had read Abby for filth as if she had been stalking her every move. If this was a game of chess, Abby would be losing miserably while Ellie was on the road to victory. But Abby didn’t wanna give Ellie the satisfaction of being right. Abby suddenly remembered your sleeping figure in the backseat rubbing her eyes at the current state of the situation. Her throat groggy and itchy from the blunt she smoked wasn’t helping either. 

“Are we seriously having this conversation right now, mind you— with her in the car?” Abby inquired, nodding her head at you in the backseat, her jaw clenching and she smacked her teeth giving Ellie a glare from her position in the car.

“Fuck yeah, we are because the ignorance you fuckin' have of your reality is pissing me off” Ellie spat, narrowing her eyes. She was riling Abby up, good. Ellie wanted Abby to see the mistake she made by not being upfront with her feelings like Ellie had been encouraging her to do before she even got with her girlfriend. Abby’s nostrils flared as she continued to listen to Ellie’s words. 

“All I’m saying is, look at what you wanted and always wanted, and then look at what you settled for” Ellie cleared her throat focusing back on the road ignoring the intensive, disbelief look Abby had been giving her. Abby bought one hand up to her lips, deciding not to fight Ellie’s words. Abby did like you more than a friend, but it scared her. The possibility of you saying “no” and rejecting her, haunts her more than she realized. Maybe she did try to replace you with someone who couldn’t even compete with you, lowering her own standards to a false sense of home and security. Her ex-girlfriend could never give her the same feelings that you had given her without a single touch, and Abby knew that.

“What felt real to you, Abby?”

I can't feel, feel her, novocaine for the pain, for the pain...

[maxispremades]

Марк: Как тебе идея нагрянуть в «Пенелопу» и устроить вечеринку? Держу пари, Лесли умирает с тоски в компании зануды Эрвина и злобного старика Кахилла. Этому логову параноиков не помешала бы хорошенькая встряска! Элис: Хм-м... Знаешь, мне нравится. Мы можем надеть самые причудливые наряды, в которых никогда бы не рискнули выйти на улицу средь бела дня. Прихватим с собой музыку, бочку с соком, парочку пицц... Марк: Это будет настоящий пир во время чумы! Снаружи бушует эпидемия, а под землей кучка персонажей в дурацких костюмах отрывается по полной. Пожалуй, в этом есть своя эстетика... Будет весело, если только мистер Кахилл и Эрвин не вздумают одновременно слететь с катушек. Элис: Будем держать кулачки, чтобы этого не случилось. Лично я всегда мечтала о костюмированной вечеринке в стиле пост-апокалипсис! Марк: Довольно странно мечтать о подобном, когда живешь в Стрейнджервиле.

english text below the cut

Mark: What do you think of popping into Penelope and having a party? I bet Leslie is bored stiff with nerdy Erwin and mean old guy Cahill. This den of paranoia could use a good jolt! Alice: Hmm… You know, I like it! We can wear our most whimsical outfits that we would never risk going out in broad daylight. We'll bring a music, a juice keg, some pizzas... Mark: It's going to be a fiddling while Rome burns! There's an epidemic raging outside, and underground, a knot of sims in silly costumes are having a blast. Perhaps this has its own aesthetics... It'll be fun, unless Mr. Cahill and Erwin go nuts at the same time. Alice: Let's keep our fingers crossed that it doesn't happen. I've always dreamed of a post-apocalypse costume party! Mark: It's pretty weird to dream about something like that when you live in Strangerville.

poses by @joannebernice (walking and talking), @alpine-lapine (emotions 2024), @akuiyumi (uncertainty), @haziewhims (windenburg university)

[shallowseeker]

Beach Boys

Dean hates that this beach is public.

There’s too many noisy folks, and now a roaming wad of douchey bros (you know the type) is courting Sam for beach volleyball.

Sam looks dumbfounded, like he hasn’t noticed how tall he is, and how that might make him first pick for the intramural beach-losers’ draft.

But Sam, being Sam, quirks an easy grin and says “sure.”

Ugh.

Jack throws puppy eyes, and Sam asks if he can play, too. The dude-bros shrug, friendly in that oily, college-keg-totin’ kinda way.

“I’ll play,” Mary says, jumping up and giving Jack a gentle nudge. “Show you the basics.”

Well, Dean doesn’t wanna play.

It’s been Hell getting his overlapping towels just right so none of the friggin’ hot sand grates against his skin.

The group of college bros move off to the net a little ways down from them and plops their enormous Arctic Cooler keg (surprise, surprise) off to the side.

Rowena pulls her sunglasses down, peeks appreciatively at the mass of tan, muscly bods, and makes to move her entire setup closer, umbrella and all.

“You comin?” she trills.

When Dean shakes his head, she pulls off her oversized hat and plops it on top of his head.

“Suit yourself.”

///

Sam gets the hang of it pretty quickly, but then, he barely has to even jump to spike the ball.

Mary is good—quick on her feet and able to skitter through the thick, ankle-floppin’ sand like a human sand-crab.

Jack is—not good. He misses more than he passes, and his first serve doesn’t even go over the net. The college bros jeer, and Dean squeezes his empty beer can hard enough that it crunches.

He mentally names them: Smirky Opie for the tall redhead, Stifler for sunglasses guy, and A.C. Slater for the dark-haired one.

They’re all dicks.

Dean can tell.

“You can do it!” Mary keeps saying, and Sam just claps his hands like some kind of deranged rec-league coach.

When Jack digs his first spike, Dean whoops for joy. When Sam slams down a kill, Rowena whistles.

///

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.”

Dean hadn’t heard Cas come up.

“Yeah,” he says absent-mindedly. “You got the better stuff?”

Dean peeks up, and Cas’s face is shadowed by the glare of the sun. But he’s got two drinks in hand, one deliciously chocolate and frothy-looking.

“Oooh, gimme.”

Cas dutifully hands over the creamy glass of Bushwacker. Then, Dean watches Cas watch him gulp it down. Finding it difficult to keep his gaze, Dean tracks his eyes back to the game, where Mary misses a block at the net.

“Hold this,” Cas says, and a shorter, orange-colored glass gets shoved into Dean’s free hand.

Dean takes a whiff. Rum?

“Whatcha get?”

Cas’s lips twitch, “Jungle bird.”

Dean fails to hold back a smile. “Nice.”

“Rum, pineapple juice, and Campari, though I can pick out many more molecules than that.”

Cas stoops to snag his own towel, discarded and messy on Dean’s right side, then snaps it mid-air, sending tiny granules spraying too near to Dean’s nest of towels.

“Hey.”

“Sorry.”

Cas re-spreads his towel and settles down, no more than a foot of space between them. Dean glances over, finds him lying flat with both eyes closed.

Cas’s hand shoots out expectantly, and with a fond snicker, Dean sets the Jungle Bird in his open palm.

When Cas takes a small swig, his mouth bumps up against the slice of lime hooked onto the glass rim. His unoccupied hand rests against his stomach, looking extra tan against his plain white tee.

Dean kind of wishes he’d move it, maybe drop it strategically into the space between them.

Dean blurts out, “You don’t wanna play?”

Cas squints one eye open. He looks curiously to the volleyball net.

“Not particularly.” Then, “Those males seem somewhat mean-spirited.”

One of the dudes gets hang-time and crams a spike so hard into Sam’s face that Sam barely gets his wrists up to shank it.

Yeah.

“You have more towels than when I left.”

Dean rolls his eyes. So what if he’d hogged the towels? So what if it made more laundry that they'll have to do tonight?

“Sand’s itchy as fuck, man. You see that beach house five doors down? S’got a hot tub built into their deck.”

Cas’s eyes close again, languid and as close to relaxed as Dean’s ever seen him.

“Hot tub. Wouldn’t you find that oppressively hot in summertime?”

“Not at night! That’s the real time to enjoy the beach anyway.”

Cas stares at him for a long time. Dean can’t parse it.

“Yes,” says Cas.

Dean clears his throat and glances back to the game just in time to see redheaded-douchewad-Smirky Opie spike the ball into Jack’s dopey, smiling face.

Blood sprays from Jack’s nose, and Smirky Opie grins wider.

Dean’s blood pressure goes through the roof.

[montrealmadison]

olliewicks and 37 !!

abby, it’s only appropriate that i write these two for the very first time for you. ❤️

37. olliewicks + Anything You Want (Not That) by Belleruche for @zimms

Forgive the doe eyed relentless attention If it's on, I'm on, and there's no more use in pretending Close to the chase, it's clear you've had fun playing Some liberties, well you've surely been taking

Halfway through December, with the night becoming morning and the tub juice lighting him on fire, Oliver O’Meara thinks he’s having a pretty good freshman year.

Or—frog year. Right. New team, new lingo; he knows how this goes. The guys here call him Ollie, same as they have everywhere else. The ice at Faber is bigger, better kept, but his skates dig into it just the same. He goes to class (most of the time), hits up the kegsters, tries his best to get in with the upperclassmen, successfully makes one entire friend.

He’s a simple guy. Doesn’t expect much. 

So the fact that something is starting to feel different is rubbing him the wrong way.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

The Haus is high off the win—literally, Ollie thinks, watching smoke drift past him out the open front door. They destroyed BC tonight, four-nothing, and Jack only shouted at them twice, which at this point honestly passes for kindness where he's concerned. Shitty has been incandescent with joy since they hit the showers. He’s dragged every member of the team into at least two keg stands with his own set of complicated strip rules and is now down to nothing but one sock and a giant smile, which was the final warning that prompted Ollie to move to the porch. The parties here are way better than in high school, he has to admit, but only in small doses.

Salt crunches beneath him when he sits down on the steps. It’s cold out. Not as bad as it is at home this time of year, but not warm enough to justify him sitting outside in shorts and a hoodie, sweat chilling quickly in his hair and his breath smoking out in long billows. He half-expects someone to come outside and yell at him to put a coat on, but no one does. To fill the silence, he takes another sip of tub juice, lets it torch his throat all the way down.

Maybe everybody feels like this freshman year: unmoored, self-conscious, either too loud or too quiet. It’s not bad, it’s just—different. Not having his brothers around. Playing hockey that really means something. Making friends on purpose, not just because they’re the only ones available. Going to parties where people sort of know you, where they call your name; where your teammates smile and smell like cinnamon and weed and have nice asses and ex-boyfriends; where that’s okay, it’s all okay.

Maybe, if he’s feeling like this on a night when he’s supposed to be happy, he shouldn’t be drinking alone. He’s about to pound the rest of his cup and risk going back in for a refill when someone knees him in the back.

“Ow,” Ollie says, which is a great first thing to say when you’re potentially going to have to kick someone’s ass. “Bro, what the fuck.”

He turns around, ready to defend himself, but it’s only Wicky, carrying two Keystones with the tabs already popped.

“‘Sup,” he says, grinning like he didn’t just commit an act of warfare, and hands one over. The can’s cold, as are Wicky’s fingers when they touch. “You’re thinking loud. Want a buddy?”

“Yeah,” Ollie agrees, more out of surprise than anything else. He takes a sip and finds that even watery beer is a welcome change from warm Everclear and foot stank. He tosses the rest of the tub juice into the bushes in a wide arc, sends his cup tumbling after it. “Thanks.”

Wicky sinks down beside him, close enough to throw off heat but not enough to touch. He’s in sweats and a beanie, dirty old Vans, that half a smile he always wears. Ollie’s not used to feeling like it’s directed at him and kind of waits to feel uncomfortable about it, but he never does. Beyond their little sliver of porch, it’s starting to snow.

“Good fucking game,” Wicky says after a long minute, throwing a shoulder in Ollie’s direction. His inflection is familiar, round and Midwestern, and reminds Ollie so much of home that it almost softens the blow. “Tired of cellying your assist?”

“Tired of Holster kicking my ass at pong,” he retorts. Wicky laughs and dodges the elbow Ollie aims his way. “Didn’t see you rushing to my defense, man, I had to play with Hardy and he’s about as useful as—”

“Nah, nah, I didn’t mean to laugh at you.” It’s sincere. “I got you next time, sorry. Got distracted.”

“What could be more important than riding to my rescue?”

“Key lime pie?”

“Ah.”

Ollie elbows him one more time, just for good measure and because Wicky claims not to have saved him any, before they drink their beers and watch the street turn white and he goes back to thinking.

Maybe it’s Wicky who’s different. Not in the way that Bitty is different, like nothing this team has ever seen, like the kind of person who merits special coaching with Jack by day and stands on the arm of the sticky green couch to deliver an impassioned performance of some Kesha song by night. No, the thing about Wicky is that he’s… bright. He puts his head down in practice and works the same as Ollie does, doesn’t ask many questions or draw attention to himself. They go to the dining hall and practice and the library together; mundane shit. Somehow, Ollie can’t stop noticing him anyway.

“You good, dude?”

Wicky’s voice is low, but Ollie’s so tuned into him in his head that it sounds loud. He turns, tipsy and slow, and finds Wicky still wearing that smile.

Oh, shit, Ollie thinks, hoping the cold and the beer serve as cover for the flush that immediately crawls up his cheeks. Oh, fuck.

Because here is the goddamn thing.

Oliver O’Meara is having a pretty good freshman year, but that’s all he ever expected it to be. Go to school, play hockey, have a little fun. Look, he gets that maybe there’s something in the water here that lets Shitty hug the Jack Zimmermann on the daily without getting both his arms ripped off, or facilitates the freaky mind-meld between Ransom and Holster, or enables Bitty to get on the ice with them at all. But Ollie’s never felt like a main character, not even in his own story. Everyone else probably has better reasons for coming to Samwell, life-changing ones. Ollie feels a little like he just ended up here because of some force of nature greater than him, like the broad strokes of his life have been sketched out and the details have all been left for him to make up.

Wicky is the only person who’s ever made him wonder how it would feel if, maybe, he could be different here, too.

“Ollie,” Wicky says, now sounding distinctly amused. “Earth to O’Meara. You wanna get out of here, brah? Not having fun?”

He’s pretty sure that get out of here isn’t intended that way, not yet, but it could—oh, God, it could. 

“No, I’m good,” Ollie says, feeling everything and nothing like himself. He stands, feels his knees ache with the effort of the day, knows he isn’t done quite yet. He sticks out a hand. “One more song and then late night?”

Wicky’s at his feet now, trusting eyes and curling hair, a face Ollie’s only just started to get to know but somehow thinks he won’t ever forget. He takes Ollie’s hand and pulls himself to his feet, but he doesn’t let go right away. Ollie kind of loves that. “One more, huh? Only if you’re gonna dance.”

“Deal.”

“‘Swawesome,” says Wicky. It sounds like a promise.

(Inside, on the dance floor, when that same hand wraps warm around the back of Ollie's neck like a question and an answer all at once, it feels like one, too.)

The next weekend, they win again. Ollie’s on the ice when Ransom wrists in the last goal and everyone shouts, and when they all pile in for the celly, Ollie finds Wicky’s bright blue eyes (oh, shit) and winks, and Wicky reaches up with one gloved hand and catches it like a kiss.

Alright, Ollie thinks. Game on.

[scribblestatic]

It's the evening of the day something or someone caused part of U.A.'s gate to decay.

Of course, the teachers are already working on repairs by the end of the day, and the sun is setting. All Might, already out of juice, walks along the halls inside, tiredly wondering what could've done such a thing. After all, U.A.'s walls are incredibly strong, but they were crumbled with ease.

As he wonders this, he looks up toward one of the windows facing the gate.

There's someone standing there, watching the repairs.

They're cloaked in pale, wispy white, staring outside. The sun's retreating rays almost seem to run right through the figure.

When All Might's gaze trails down toward the figure's feet, he realizes it's quite possible the sun really is going through them. Everything from the ankles down is gone, faded into nonexistence.

"Hello, young one," All Might greets, getting closer. "School's already let out, so you can't be on campus right now."

The person doesn't respond, not turning to look at him. Their poncho sways loosely around their calves, the hood pulled up and over their head. All Might frowns, starting to slow down. After all, it doesn't appear like the person is wearing the school uniform.

What if they aren't a student?

"...Perhaps you're lost? I know it's not easy for kids during the first few days. Which class are you a student of?"

They don't answer.

All Might checks his body for even the slightest hint of power in his veins. He finds an empty keg, dried and dusty. There's nothing in the tank for him to use.

Just like that day.

...He hadn't actually talked to anyone about that day. The day he failed to find the sludge villain fast enough. The day he couldn't muster his power. The day that young boy, still able to live for a little while, even with his jaw torn open, lost and abandoned in a nearby alleyway until he died a pointless death.

Instead, he learned the boy's name, learned he was quirkless, and decided to nestle his name alongside the many others he hadn't been able to save in his long heroics career.

He tried to be careful since then. To have something in the tank for a moment's notice. But there were so many incidents that popped up--so many people who needed saving at any given moment. He couldn't just abandon them.

So he let his power dry out, day after day. Today was one such day as well.

Quietly, he tries to think of what to do or say next. If he sent a message to any of the other heroes, would they arrive in time to help? Should he even call them, when he doesn't actually know what quirk this person has? Despite his currently decrepit state, he's still a hero in his own right.

"...Did you hear me?"

"Oh. I heard you."

The stranger's voice sounds eerie. A whisper that, despite said so quietly, echoes in his ears, like two to three soft voices overlapping each other.

However, though eerie...there was an unnatural sense of ease that came over him.

Whoever this was meant no harm.

Although the air felt colder now that the other was speaking, it wasn't with danger. More like the feeling of a steady spring breeze. His nose twitched, and he just very slightly noticed the scent of cherry blossoms.

It was a nostalgic smell, one that had faded with the start of the new school semester. But it still clings to this strange person standing here.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

The stranger turns toward him, their body simply shifting without the movement of their feet, as though standing on a rotating tile on the floor. All Might blinks when he sees their face.

Mostly because it's entirely concealed in an unnatural blackness under the hood. He can't even see the person's eyes or mouth, nothing of their face at all.

"I was just listening."

"Listening? To what?"

"To the voices. I'm following a very thin trail."

Well, that made no sense. However, the person's disarming, whispering nature still didn't set off any alarms. He probably should've found that alarming, and yet, he only slightly did. Though, the feeling was more out of curiosity than fear. Even so, he has enough wits about him to not mindlessly approach the strange person.

"A thin trail, you say? Is there a way I or anyone else can help you?"

"Hmm... It's possible, perhaps. But I'm not sure it is right now. It's an almost imperceptible trail, surrounding this school and the students in it."

All Might's gaze narrows. "...I can't say I know what to make of that. Or rather, what to make of why you've said that."

But the figure just shrugs, their shoulders shifting under the poncho.

"I mean no ill will. I suppose it's just a warning to look out for them."

The person moves again, though, again, without moving their legs. They simply float forward unnaturally, and in an instant, they're passing by All Might's side.

A chill shudders its way down his spine.

"Be watchful. I sense malice toward Class 1-A."

And then they pass.

When All Might quickly turns around, intending to ask more, there's...

Nothing.

No one.

The chill is gone, as is the whispered scent of cherry blossoms.

[villain-sympathizer]

hi, can i request deidoro sakaki headcannons?

yes you absolutely can!! 💕

not sure if you wanted general headcanons or romantic so i did both!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

General:

Absolutely a party guy, I mean how can he not be? He’s never one to turn down an invite to a club or a house party. He’s literally the “party don’t start till I walk in” type of guy but its actually the truth

Beer pong and keg stand champion, undefeated, no matter how hard others (especially Rappa) try to beat him

Despite constantly drinking alcohol, his teeth are in surprisingly good shape

Although he’s depicted as a raging alcoholic, I think he’s a rather casual drinker when he’s not on a job for the Hassaikai or at an absolute rager of a party

A shockingly level-headed guy and fun to talk to when he’s not sloshed out of his mind. He’s perfect for venting to or trying to work out a thought process, rarely one to cut in unless asked for his opinion

Perfect hype man!! This dude will cheer folks on and boost their confidence, even if they’re a random stranger at the bar or across the street

The master at situational humor and making the most out of a bad or embarrassing situation

He looks like he could be a contortionist to me, not sure why. At the very least he’s double-jointed in my mind

-10% shame, obviously. He seemingly absorbs others’ shame too, willing to cause a distraction or take the blame for something if need be. Says it’s fun and thrilling and keeps him humble, plus he likes the attention

Class clown type, but not in that obnoxious way, y’know? Like the kinda stranger to do something wacky or hilarious that makes you go to your friends and say “Holy shit, you’ll ever believe what this random dude did, it was so funny”, that kinda stuff

Is insanely drained and exhausted the day after using his quirk too much. He only gets severe hangover symptoms after using it, rather than just drinking normally. In fact, everyone’s jealous at how he’s totally fine after a night of heavy drinking and partying

His liver is a medical anomaly, change my mind

His hair may always look oily or greasy, but he still showers daily. That’s just unfortunately how his hair is

Strikes me as the kinda guy to be totally down for platonic cuddling, drunk or not, much to the dismay of his co-workers

Although his room and fashion sense are pretty plain (or even dirty), that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a sense of style or interior design. He’s just always out on jobs or partying to really care about his clothes or furniture

^ Regarding that, his fashion style is more street-casual, grunge/punk mix, even dipping into skater-boy territory

His interior design tastes are a sort of mix of boho and art deco, if that makes sense. Also doesn’t mind a modern Japanese look, either

I’m also gonna say he’s the kinda guy who goes to strip clubs just for the fun of it rather than the sexual appeal. He just loves the energy of the place, plus he supports sex workers

Drinks his respect women juice daily!!!!!!

Romantic:

Pansexual and panromantic, is also down to discuss poly relationships too

Love language is physical touch and words of affirmation, which are amplified when he’s even the slightest bit drunk. The second he takes a sip of his drink, he’s immediately showering his partner in praise and kisses, his arm(s) always around them in some way the whole night

Hates huge flashy dates, UNLESS it’s a festival/amusement park date. He LOVES that shit

Would prefer a partner who’s down to go to parties/bars/clubs with him, but if not that’s chill, as long as they’re fine with him going out himself then

Despite always going out to parties and such, he’s more than willing to reserve a few nights a week (or by request) to just stay home with his partner. He’s still gonna casually drink, though

An absolute doofus who comes up with the weirdest, most out of pocket date ideas.

“No, Dei, we’re not going shotgun fishing just to see how long it takes the police to get there.” “… What about a pistol? Crossbow? Bow and arrow? Okay, okay, how about spear? Babe hear me out-“

Will call his partner babe or baby regardless of their gender, but will stop if asked. Still says it for a joke/bit though

[okmissgirl]

Absolutely Normal Nonsense

HEHE I'm still alive and this some real nonsense y'all 💀

Also happens to fulfill the Future catagory for HellCheer Aniversary Week day 4.

<- Last Nonsense

——————————————————————————————————

🥜 Sweet Nothings (and sour somethings) 🥒

To you I can admit

That I’m just too soft for all of it

“You gotta try it with peanut butter.” 

“I — what?” 

“Take your spoon, scoop some of it up—”

“Is this—?”

“Nuh-uh, you have to get a lot more. Like a heaping scoop. Here, let me—”

“Sweetheart, I know the logistics of it, I can… okay that’s — Chrissy that’s just straight up peanut butter.”

“But it tastes good! Especially when you spread a bunch on top of the pickle and the juice is still there, ugh, the contrast is phenomenal… I feel like I’ve ascended or something.” 

“Ascended? Peanut butter and pickles is a religious experience for you?” 

“Yes and I am a staunch believer and no sacrilege will be permitted in my house, so here comes the um, starfighter airplane jet thing… and…” 

“Wha— don’t just! Baby, I am agnostic at best—” 

“And you will see the light and be compelled if you would only open wide—”

“Ok princess, first, before I poison myself, how did you go from oreo and peanut butter cookies to this?”

“...put it in your mouth first.”

“Wh— I am not—”

“Please? Pretty please? For me?” 

“Oh baby doll, you’re so sweet. No.” 

“But—”

“No ma’am.”

“Ed-die!” 

“Chris-sy!”

“Give it a chance, the flavors, the textures — look at me baby, would I ever steer you wrong?”

“...”

“Eddie!” 

“Sorry, but I am very sure you would, case in point, I can’t even see the beaten path right now—” 

“Oh boo, where’s your sense of adventure? Where’s the man I fell madly in love with who used to do those disgusting beer kegs in college and use the same towel every week for months?” 

“Jesus Christ, woman — that dumbass is dead. Hallelujah.”

“But I want him back! Just for tonight? C’mon sweetie, one lick.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I’ll eat the rest?” 

“And you’ll tell me who put you up to this? I brought that jar yesterday — there are only three pickles left mamacita — I know you’ve been going to town on these all day. That acid reflux is gonna be righteous tonight.”

“I promise it’s 8/10 worth the heartburn — that’s how good they are! … And I was bored, so…” 

“Bored?”

“Eh okay well, not completely, but that’s besides the point! Try it? Please?” 

“Ughhh, fine, fine…”

“Really?! Aw, Eddie—!”

“Hmm, since you asked so nicely… bottoms up, I guess…” 

“Hehe, enjoy…”

“...”

“...and?”

“Uh, cool your jets — I gotta analyze the flavor, the texture and all that shit…” 

“Oh… well, hurry up!” 

“My word, where is your patience, Christine? Hmm, I guess… it’s um… huh.” 

“Huh?”

“...s’not bad.” 

“Not bad? So that means… you like it?”

“I do not hate it.” 

“You love it!”

“It’s palatable, princess.” 

“See!! Oh my gosh, I told you! I told you, it’s the fucking contrast — like peanut butter and jelly!” 

“Uh, strong comparison, but I get what you’re saying. Now, who rummaged through our cupboards and got pickle juice all up in the peanut butter jar? ‘Cause I know it wasn’t you — that’s something you’d get mad at me for.”

“Well… Robin came over…” 

“Of course. Of course — you know, I walked into that one. Like in the back of my mind I thought “Eddie, what if it’s Bucklely who’s eating all your shit?” and at the time I didn’t wanna believe it but, tsk… should’ve known.”

“What! How could you say that? Robin’s so much fun!” 

“Yeah, until she starts packing our food in tupperware boxes and taking it to her place.” 

“She does not do that.”

“I’ve seen it with my own two eyes, Missus Munson.” 

“Edward Munson! You know how boring it is, staying at home 24/7?! All I ever do is fold, wash, and dry all the clothes we brought and then dig out some more for tomorrow to fold again and then I eat and watch reruns of Seinfeld. I try to cook but then my feet hurt. I try to drive to the grocery store but no, I can’t get behind the freaking wheel! I want to practice the stretches we learned in class so I put on exercise videos but I can’t even follow along with them! I sit there like a beached whale! There’s no one to call and everyone’s at work except me! There’s nothing to do, I’m slowly going out of my mind and, and… you know what, give me that—”

“What are you — hey! I was gonna—”

“NO! You don’t deserve a peanut butter pickle! Shame on you, making fun of me like that when Robin was so kind to come over and watch a movie with me, help make cookies, and introduce both of us to this delicious delicacy. You should be thankful!”

“Aw Chris, I am thankful; just didn’t know you had it so rough baby—”

“Ey! Get away, you! Don’t try to kiss me! I’ll stick this glob of peanut butter in your hair—”

“No you won’t.”

“I will.” 

“Uh, okay… I’ll just eat it off, but sure. “

“Eddie!” 

“Okay, okay pretty girl — I’m thankful that Buckley broke into our house so you could have some adventure for the day—”

“— I mean, you told her where the house key is buried, so that’s kinda on you—

“However, I’m at your beck and call whenever you need me.” 

“... I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“I dunno, Munson. The way you look at those campaign sheets sometimes… kinda has me worried, is all…” 

“Perish the thought, fair maiden! For I find you tantalizing, bewitching — the object of many a man’s desire but alas, you are mine, Christine, and I’ll fall upon my own sword if there ever is a day I find myself blind to such godlike beauty…” 

“... hmm…” 

“Hmm? Too much?”

“No… I never said that… “

“Then pray tell… hmm, what? Is it a secret? Would you whisper in my ear? Don’t be afraid, you can tell me…” 

“No, no secrets here.”

“Oh…? “ 

“I do have a question though.” 

“And I await with bated breath to hear it.” 

“.... you fancy me a goddess, good sir?”

“Of course I... yes.”

“Am I to believe I am just a simple spirit you found looking into the glade?” 

“N-no, never you are not just any goddess. You are more brilliant than Aphrodite herself.” 

“You swear?” 

“On my life…” 

“...”

“... Chris—”

“Alright, help me get down from here.” 

“Oh! Uh, sure, but why do you—”

“Honestly, my ass is getting numb and I didn’t really think this through once I actually got up here so…” 

“Well, can’t have a sore ass on my watch, sweetheart — just lift your—”

“I’m heavier than before okay, so be careful with you back and don’t—”

“Pfft, babycakes you weigh 30 pounds soaking wet as we speak… there we go. Hmm.. I kinda like it, actually.” 

“Like what?”

“You know…” 

“I don’t, actually.” 

“Well… I’ve been meaning to ask… is my queen gonna claim her throne tonight?”

“... Eddie—”

“I’ve been waiting. Thirsting. Praying fervently that I could show my fealty to you once more. So… please…I—” 

“What… what if I’m… I’m not… too…”

“Never, never… ah… never, Christine…”

“Shi… I… okay.”

“Okay?”

“Please.” 

Oftentimes, Eddie is struck by the fact that he gets to come home to Chrissy Munson née Cunningham everyday. To find his wife sitting on the kitchen counter, scooping peanut butter onto a pickle stick, so far removed from the hustle and bustle of his chaotic workday. But he guesses that’s natural. 

He hopes the feeling lasts a lifetime. 

*BONUS*

“fifty-eight one-thousand, fifty-nine one-thousand… and… okay… okay, that’s…”

“...Chrissy? Chris, what are you doing in the shower? Is everything okay…? Cause uh, I woke up and your side of the bed was like wet with… something. I didn’t smell it or anything but uhh… you can wake me up when stuff like that happens. I know it’s normal and I can help—”

“Eddie! You thought I wet the bed? I’m no child!”

“Well yeah, I know that… but you’re also—”

“I’m in labor. Well, I’m pretty sure I am, at least. My water broke in bed.” 

“...what.” 

“Yeah, I woke up and it was like, everywhere, and it kept dripping down my legs… kinda gross. I wanted to take a shower.”

“Wha… holy fuck, can you rewind to, uh, Jesus… um, are you really, seriously—”

“Yup, I think so. Can you help me get out of here please?”

“Uh, uh, okay, yeah, no problem I can — I can do that.”

“Great!”

“Shit… maybe we shouldn't have done so much last night?” 

“No. We do a lot most nights. I don’t think that made a difference here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Honestly? I think it was the pickles.”

[sugarssims]

I don't know what it is about Cid and dropping people on the juice keg but I find it hilarious. I mean, just look at the ashamed face he's making.

[blueberryinko]

Hey guys, so I’ve been off of this account a while! I’ve been working and had a slight mental health crisis, but I’m back and planning to post more, so I guess I’m gonna get on with a muse I’ve had for a while.

So I’ve been thinking about confidence and body issues in terms of berryism. I struggle with my body. I’d describe myself as a chubby girl, and I have had experience with a fair few disorders relating to my health because of my body.

Recently I’ve been on a health kick, and I’ve been working incredibly hard on self-improvement so I wanted to parallel that with blueberry stuff.

Being a berry is in and of itself about being willing. Being a berrygirl for me means that being large, fat and vulnerable means I’m confident and as such I’m happy. While regular me has constant worries about my weight and health, being a blueberry for me means that I don’t have to care about my weight anymore because al I have to focus on is being big and ripe.

I imagine myself as a confident blueberry, being as large as I am means I’m constantly the centre of attention, I need constant help and I’m just so ripe I can barely think. It plays into my ego a lot, I think. It’s something I desperately try and keep contained, but being so round means that I’m able to let go of that and be a little more abrasive, louder and I can be another facet of myself, prideful. I hate being negative, I hate worrying, but as a blueberry there would be none of that I think.

I’m not so stupid as to think there wouldn’t be negatives, but I’d be in a body that feels right, I’d feel sexy as fuck, and honestly if I weren’t ace I’d probably be super horny too. Mix that with pregnancy and holy shit you’ve got one hell of a concoction.

Pregnancy as a whole has been something I’ve had to come to terms with as a kink as well bc well, I can’t have kids of my own. Just a fact, but if I could get pregnant it would be about just how big of a litter I could carry, my confidence being a mom and just being the broodmama of a massive family.

I’d want my huge, heaving belly massive with octuplets as I lumber through my meetings, I’d want my colleagues to be in constant awe of me as my belly creaks and rumbles.

And being a huge, pregnant blueberry girl, well. I’d have to be constantly cared for, I’m a juicy incubator and I have to be rolled everywhere because otherwise it’d take me two hours just to waddle to the shops. I’d be a toy ball, I’d be a hot water bottle and I’d be the family refreshments keg, I’d want to be nothing but a ripe blue juice balloon built for carrying babies.

That’s about as far as I got with that muse tbh, but the main point is that I’m back.

[moochipeachey]

Dear Diary,

I have a love-hate relationship with this place... but thankfully there's been more ups than downs lately. And maybe it's just the leftover fizzy juice in my system but I think I've finally found my tribe. It's crazy how in just a short time, I've managed to make such amazing friends. I guess Windenburg isn't so bad after all. Anyway The bonfire I went to last week was something straight out of a teen flick, I'm still high off the vibes and energy from that night. We all gathered around this massive, crackling bonfire, the flames dancing to the beat of our laughter and the crashing waves nearby. The salty sea breeze mixed with the scent of marshmallows roasting on sticks, created this cozy, magical atmosphere. Ugh, it was surreal. Truly.

(Yes that is me doing a keg stand with Matthew Felix. Please don't ask.) And can we just take a moment to appreciate the gooey, deliciousness that is s'mores? They had a whole setup with marshmallows, graham crackers, and the most amazing chocolate bars ever. And let me tell you, I have the art of roasting marshmallows down to perfection. There were no burnt marshmallows on my watch! But I'm stalling, let's get into the juicy details... After we stuffed ourselves with smores (I lost count of how many I devoured), we decided to play some fun beach games. There was beach volleyball, water slides, and water balloon fights. And the games didn't stop there! We played a hilarious round of truth or dare, and let me tell you, some secrets were spilled. But it was all in good fun, and I got to know my friends on a whole new level. There's just something about sitting around a bonfire, under the starry night sky, that makes you open up and feel closer to people.

Which is the only logical way to explain Matthew's (and mine) behavior that night (and every night since), and still I can't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, there's this exciting and electrifying connection I share with Matthew; it's like he brings out a side of me that I didn't know existed. But then, there's the familiarity and comfort of Eric, he makes me feel secure and grounded, while still allowing me to be myself without any pretenses. It's like I'm two completely different versions of myself when I'm with them. I've been praying to the universe to send me a sign, a clear answer to let me know which one to choose. But even the universe seems to be confused. I mean, why else would Eric ask me to be his girlfriend during the same week I'm forced to partner up with Matthew for our senior project...

Like I said... Something changed after that bonfire. Or maybe there was something in the water. I don't know. But there are 3 things I know for certain...

1. You probably aren't a good girlfriend when you're disappointed when your boyfriend interrupts the kiss you're about to share with his best friend. *Bonus points if you have to force yourself to feel guilty afterwards.

2. When his best friend offers to start hosting late night study/work sessions at his house, he probably doesn't have the best intentions. And if attending these secret rendezvous involves having to lie to your boyfriend, parents, and best friends.... You probably don't have the greatest intentions yourself.

3. What's done in the dark will eventually come to the light. But it's easy to ignore the impending consequences of your decisions when you have a distraction as hot as Matthew Felix to keep you busy. I should get ready for this gala Until next time diary, XOXO Naomi ♡

Introduction | Meet the Characters | Previous | Next |

[gnomeyflamingo]

✯ A Sim-ply Historical House Party ✯

Today Kiry is graduating High School. His absurdly wealthy & famous mothers have bought a TS2 re-creation of the Beaker House to host his themed costume party in. Ofcs, Acco, and Atreo are invited!

Atreo: “Omw, look at it! It’s exactly as described in our history books!”

Acco: “Hiya Kiry!"

Kiry: “Good evening and welcome! I appreciate the effort you put into your costumes, I can very easily tell you are meant to be Don Lothario and Pascal Curious."

Acco: “I’m so excited, congrats again on graduating and with such high grades!”

Kiry: “Thank you!"

Atreo: “I’m in awe, the attention to detail… I never knew your mums were so rich!”

Kiry: “They truly went all out. We even have a DJ and a juice keg for the occasion.”

Atreo: “Juice?! This party is gonna be amazing!"

Acco: “Pascal and Nervous were such a good idea for a couples’ costume by the way.”

Kiry: “I can’t even explain how right this feels. Seeing us both dressed like this is making me happy and highly flirty."

Atreo: “Yes!! Juice, juice, JUICE! Let’s all get dazed!”

Atreo: “Really? Cassandra? Don’s fiancée? Coincidence much?”

Zehra: “It's not. I did my research.”

Atreo: "You went through my trash again, didn't you?"

Zehra: "Ah you got me!"

Atreo: "It's a good thing I like you."

Kiry: "You… do? I need to process this information."

Most of the guests head into the courtyard to dance to the TS2 soundtrack. Everybody seems to be having a blast. It's a hot, sweaty night so the juice is flowing fast.

Acco: “I swear Atreo’s not paying any attention to me at all. I bet he still doesn't know about me and Kiry. I’ve told him like 3 times! I have a feeling he’s not gonna like it…”

Onyx: “Oh who cares what your stupid brother thinks? You’re happy, that’s all that matters."

Acco: “I suppose… great costumes btw guys.”

Onyx: “Who knew dressing as a 40-something Mum would feel this comfortable?”

Acco: “Denise you really look like Olive Specter. It’s scaring me.”

Denise: “Aw thank you Acco. You won’t end up in my garden tonight.”

Derya: “Do you need help?”

Zehra: “Ha! Not from you. I can’t believe you dressed as gold digger Dina.”

Derya: “Esma suggested we be the twins-"

Zehra: “You always leave me out! I wanted to be Nina and dream about hottub woohoo with Atreo.”

Derya: “Go and snipe at Esma then."

Derya: “ Wow Atreo, you totally pull off the Don look.”

Atreo: “Thanks, you make a good Dina.”

Derya: “You up for some roleplay? We could mess around in the shower?"

Atreo: "Oh Dina, we shouldn't. I’m engaged."

Derya: "It'll be our secret. Meet me in the bathroom later."

Atreo: “Hey! Cool costumes… You’re the Burbs right?”

Asmara: “Yup, John and Jennifer. Where’ve you been Atreo? I haven’t seen you in ages, we should really catch up… as friends I mean.”

Atreo: “Yeah… Sorry. Later. So does this mean you’re a couple?”

Asmara: “What? No!”

Aldo: “OMW I’m into guys. I told you this. We both have! Do you listen, like ever?”

Asmara: Yeah this is just a friend thing, we thought it’d be cute.”

Atreo: “Oh thank the Watcher.”

Esma: “If you’re Don Lothario, where’s your beard?”

Atreo: “Ugh I couldn’t grow it and my cheeks are just too silky smooth to glue on a fake one.”

Esma: “Your lack of commitment is disappointing.”

Atreo: “Hey you’re Nina, you’re meant to be into me!”

Atreo: “Are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?”

Zehra: “Not really, but I’m excited about yours! A young adult in two days! I wonder what your rolls will be?”

Atreo: “Yeah well, I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Atreo: “The Watcher and their friends really don’t like me, so my future is looking bleak… Yeah not gonna dwell on it.”

Zehra: “Don’t worry my love. I will be there to support you every step of the way.”

Derya: “Sooo I’m heading to the bathroom just so you know.”

Zehra: “Uck you’re so weird and gross. I’m gonna hack your social bunny and tell everybody."

Atreo: "And I'm gonna go to set off the fireworks I bought real fast. My bladder bar is very low suddenly."

Atreo quickly heads up the stairs to light the fireworks he set up earlier, looking forward to messing around with Derya. He’s determined to distract himself from all the stuff he doesn’t want to accept is happening and is completely unaware of what he’s about to witness…

(for app) >> Next Page >> Previous Page

❧ Back to the Legacy Archive

[deada55]

Being There - Chapter 3

crossposting: ao3

synopsis: There's bickering all around the Explosion household, and Nathan tried to hide a keg in the garage.

Rose made sure the door was shut before setting her sights on re-hanging some of the less-orderly sections of her closet, like her knitted mock-necks. She tore the hangers off in twos and threes, flinging the shirts to the looped berber carpet underfoot. “I can’t believe you’d do that. I can’t believe you.”

“Why wouldn’t I tell him? It’s his life. How else is he supposed to find out?”

“He just woke up, Oscar! He’s not going to remember anything you’re saying!”

“We can tell him again, it won’t hurt anything-”

“Don’t be smart, just don’t.”

Flecks of white paint fell on the shoulders of her collared shirts, peeled off the closet rod with the force of her wire hangers being pushed to the right. It had to line up just a little better. Oscar stood out of her way, within reach of the doorknob. She was a strong person, and it held through the years. She’d never lost sight of the things she wanted, so what did it mean that she didn’t want to tell her own son about failing out of high school? After all the time they spent fighting to get him there, she wanted to throw it away to save his feelings for another month or two?

She pushed her clothes around, crushing all the date-night negligees and the maternity shorts she fit into again with the weight she’d gained. They came back into rotation over the summer for gardening but eventually tagged along for grocery trips and quick date nights at Applebee’s.

When they came out of the bedroom, the rice had gone cold, and they found Nathan dragging a torn crab rangoon through a puddle of brown beef-and-broccoli juice.

Rose sighed when she sat down, and started forking up a row of shrimp out of her haystack of broken lo mein. While her right hand stabbed the little guys through, her left hand folded behind her ear, where she picked at her scalp. Oscar wasn’t so bothered, but he’d lost steam, and pushed rice into the sauce on his plate with the back of his fork.

Nathan finally swallowed his food and sat back, the springs of the chair creaking with the stretch. “So, uh, thanks for telling me. I’m gonna… I think I need to think about it over the break.”

“You don’t have to,” Rose lifted her eyes and shook her head. It was sweet what Nathan was trying to do… she smirked like a little kid had told her a joke. “It’ll work out.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s going to work out.” He broke into what was left of the noodles, dumping the compact square that was sitting in the bottom of the carton onto his plate. “So I’m going to figure out what I’m gonna do over the break.”

“Nathan…” The air conditioner on the wall rushed back to fan the room, and the grocery list stuck under Rose’s purse fluttered on the kitchen countertop. It kicked it’s little corners hard against the granite counter, making sharp little sounds of protest. The end of it, a loop, unfurled gradually until it was flapping free, too.

“You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart.”

“Mom, I know .” Just when they all thought it was tense, Nathan went all-in. Even still, the lack of anxiety in his face as he waited for his mother’s answer hit Oscar like a chill.

“Uh- alright, Nathan, I’m… Just saying.” She backed down into the kung pao chicken on her plate and Oscar’s mind started to change. He looked up at Nathan, who came just short of rolling his eyes, and watched him polish off his plate, leaving Oscar the only one still thinking. The food started to set him off, but he bit into a piece of cold beef anyhow.

The next day, it was time to decorate the house for the holidays. Oscar usually did the outside, but getting everything untangled and tested was always the tedious bit, so it was a family affair this time around. While Nathan and Rose looked over light strands (and Nathan abused their tree with a staple gun when he thought they weren’t looking), Oscar pulled fishing coolers of lights and fake-pine boughs out of the garage..

There were two dry rotting rubbermaid tubs that he hadn’t gotten out for a couple years, and behind that was a shiny new keg! He hadn’t bought a keg since his brother’s wedding.

Rose came back to help Oscar carry anything else, and saw the keg just as he was turning. 

“So what’s that?”

“It’s not mine, Rose.”

“Are you sure? I’m not upset, but-”

“I’m sure.” 

Nathan trudged in and got stuck in the spotlight. “Need me to carry something?”

“Nathan… Do you have anything to do with this keg?”

“Uh…” Nathan had a certain way he held his bottom lip when the gears weren’t locking together right, but neither Rose or Oscar could push past their scowls long enough to wait for him to catch on.

“How’d you even get it?” If anyone were to store a keg, their garage was a pretty good spot, and there were definitely stricter parents in the neighborhood…

“The convenience store.”

“They didn’t card you?”

“Were they supposed to?”

“It’s beer , Nathan! You’re nineteen!” Oscar held his hands out, open-palm, like he were waiting for a watermelon to fall through the ceiling.

“Yeah, but restaurants and stuff…” 

They order that kind of shit themselves, Nathan! While Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose, Rose sucked her teeth and made Nathan run from her eye contact.

“So what’s it doing in our garage, huh?”

“I needed somewhere to put it.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know-”

“What are you gonna do with it?”

“I don’t know!”

“Were you going to drink it?”

“Yeah!” 

Rose had to doubletake that Nathan would really be that kind of dumb, or backhanded , to fall into that trap. Her mouth got stuck open as everything she could have said fell out of her ears. Eventually, she choked out:

“Nathan! Of course you were going to drink it !”

“Ok, yeah, so? Don’t fucking ask!” With his hands in his pockets, Nathan was leaning slightly back on his heels towards the door. Eye contact was a daydream on a good day, and somehow he hadn’t turned his back to them yet. Oscar stepped forward.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that!”

Before he could tell Nathan to go inside and wait for them to talk to him later, Rose feathered her fringe and rolled her eyes back towards him, coming back into the conversation with a balloon of air stuck in the center of her chest no matter how hard she huffed.

“You know you’re not supposed to be drinking. The neurologist said-” 

“I know what the neurologist said, ok? It’s fine.” 

“No, Nathan, it’s not fine !” Oscar was so red that he looked fit to burst.

His mother talked a mountain of shit about Nathan being spoiled because he was an only child, but Rose knew he was spoiled from the desperate guilt she felt from holding him accountable for hiding a keg in their fucking garage . 

Nathan tossed his hair to the left, pulling his posture further towards the door, and Rose’s shoulders fell. Before Oscar could give him a piece of his mind, she cut him off.

“Go inside. We’ll talk later.”

Any nerves evaporated like gasoline with an eyeroll and a grunt. The door from the garage to the kitchen slammed. Faintly, heard through two or three interior walls, so did the door to his bedroom. Oscar slid the keg back into the corner and pulled the ten-foot ladder out from behind it.

“So, are you going up on the ladder or am I?”

…

“It’s not optional. You can’t be drinking at these parties.” Rose pulled her terrycloth robe closer to her chest and leaned her elbows back onto the dining table. 

“Yeah, I know .” 

“I’m serious, Nathan. It’s illegal, it’s not safe… I don’t want to have to worry about that when you go out. And when you drive our cars-”

“Mom, I get it, really-”

“Do you? Because this isn’t new. You don’t get to hide alcohol in our house, no matter how it comes to you.”

Nathan’s eyes were trained on the table, tracing the borders of a scab of dried-on spaghetti sauce. He moved his cheek off his hand to pull his hair out of his face- it was overdue for a trim. He hadn’t cut it since his last game. 

“Ok, so?” Mumbling, he returned his hand to his ear.

“You’re grounded until Christmas.”

“Fuuuck.” He sat up and leaned back with all the drama of Flashdance but twice as pissy. “Mom-” 

“ And if that keg goes anywhere, you’ll have to buy your own car to drive yourself home in.”

Despite his frustrated grunting and the way he bit the inside of his cheek, she sat up and watched without a flinch. 

“You know the rules.”

“Yeah-” The wicker of the chair whined and threatened to splinter as he stirred with fresh agitation.

“It could get you arrested, Nathan. If your friends drank themselves to death at a party, or drove… It’d be horrible. It’s too much alcohol. We love you. We won’t let you do this to yourself.”  

“Fine.”

“Yeah, ‘fine.’” Her tone mellowed out, and she tried to give him a tight-lipped smile for the evening. “That’s all I had to say.”

Once he stood up, the smell of that mountain of laundry she’d cleared flew back into her memory. “Nathan? One more thing-”

She moved her chair back when she caught his eye. “Next time you get hammered and blow chunks, aim out of your lap so it doesn’t get stuck in your fly. I had to buy a new nailbrush, but I got it out.” 

“Sorry.”

“It’s my job.” She got up and skirted around the back of two chairs until she could get to him. “Come here, can I have a hug?”

She wrapped her arms around his back the best she could and closed her eyes. Ever since she realized he’d gotten taller than her, she knew she’d have to start counting down to the day when she wouldn’t be able to walk up to her son and hug him. Hell, she could barely touch him as it was, but eventually there may only be pictures and phone calls.

Or, nothing at all. She wouldn’t put it past him to leave the nest and never think to turn back. Not for her sake, no matter how much she loved him… Still, her love could never be conditional. She would have stopped a long, long time ago if she waited for him to return her sentiments in any way she could understand. If he trusted her enough to make sure he didn’t go out covered in last week’s vomit, he had to think something of her. 

“I love you.” 

His arms rested on her shoulders for only a second.

“Love you, too.”

“Don’t tell your father you’ve been drinking. It’s bad enough that I know… it’s not good for you right now. Please be careful.”

“God, Mom-”

“Preachy, I know.” She leaned back and looked up at him. Never in her life could she figure out what had seeped into the water and made his eyes so green, but his hair was less of a surprise. Blonde Oscar’s lily-white mother would give her the side eye and accuse her of cheating until the day she died, but Rose knew that the timeline between her mother’s widowhood and pregnancy was muddy. 

“Like it or not, you’re my favorite kid.”

“Tough competition.”

“Yeah, well…” Rose stepped back and tightened her belt. “You never met them.”

That got him to think twice. Watching it play out on his face almost made her ruin the bit. “What?”

“Ever wondered why the grass doesn’t grow by the shed?” She heaved her shoulders up and looked wistfully towards the mounted, stuffed squirrel, the one that was dressed like Elvis, on a side table by the phone. “That’s where Matthew was when he…” She bit her knuckle like Tim Curry in that one movie- you know the one, with the clowns?

“... Mom?” 

A snort burst out of her so quickly that she nearly choked on it. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Jesus, Mom-”

“Oh! Come on, you knew better! That was too easy!” She sighed and waited until he forgave her to say anything else. Tonight, it only took a couple of seconds for his face to relax. 

“Well, don’t stay up too late. Goodnight, sweetheart.” With a pat on the arm, she stepped away.

Nathan grumbled into the empty living room: Oscar had already gone to bed.

Not really. He was sat up with a gun catalog in their bedroom. After Rose had put on her eye cream, she rolled onto watercolor-peony bedspread beside him and snuggled in to sneak a peek at the semi-automatic rifles. Against the powder-blue theme of their bedroom, the hunting magazines and the gun safe looked as brutish and out of place as a tree stand in an HOA, but when ladies from the hunting club came over, she couldn’t wait to show them. Every anniversary thereafter, she struggled to get a gift half as good.

“How’d it go?” He lowered his reading glasses.

“Good. I think he got it.”

“And being grounded?”

“Better than last time.” Last time, she walked away in tears. It wasn’t every day your son called you a bitch, but in hindsight, she suspected he was tipsy, and he always seemed prone to drama. He fought her like a daughter, but not tonight.

“Good…” He let the magazine flop shut. “I still think you should have just let me handle it.”

“It’s done, Oscar. It’s already done.” The bolster pillow shifted right when she sat up, disturbing the balance and pushing nudging one of the shams into the nightstand, bumping over her vitamins into her citron-glass ring dish with a clatter. Somehow, her movement set Oscar off-balance, and he sunk further into the mattress.

“I think he’s taking advantage of us, I really do. He needs direction.”

“He might not be able to follow it. Really. He might not be able to take it-”

“Can’t take it?” The glasses came off all the way, and Rose leaned her head back against the protruding, satin-coated foam border of the upholstered bedframe.

“You didn’t let me finish.” 

“ You need to understand that he’s not a baby. He’s not a little kid, I keep saying-”

“You do ‘keep saying,’ but last time I checked, you’re not the one home with him all day!” Finally, her finger came out and stuck itself right at Oscar’s pinched mouth.

“I could probably see more of him if we woke him up before dinnertime, huh? Like a normal person?”

“Oh, so you’re the doctor now? Ok-”

“You’re the one who likes to talk about the damn doctor- like he remembers that! He can remember what a doctor told him while he was half-asleep but he can’t go back to school? That’s one smart kid!” His temples were bulging again… It used to be so difficult for her to make him angry, but they’d hardly had a pleasant conversation for a month.

Oscar was the only guy she’d dated who loved to see her at the bar. When she went out, he went out too. And he didn’t make faces at her friends, some of them lesbians, some of them just plain weird, and he didn’t make her out to be an embarrassment when she tried to get along with his friends. It wasn’t like her to keep to herself, or stay loyal to a pack, and he was one of the only people of the world who seemed to like it (without being the center of her attention.) 

But now, it felt like she couldn’t say anything she really thought without stepping on his toes. If he’d yelp at a game of footsie, what was the point of treading lightly? How embarrassing was it that it took her twenty years to figure out he might not be that guy? Or, she’d finally worn him down: a potential that left her feeling twice as wretched.

She tried to tone down how high her voice lifted, but there was no way Nathan had been ready to go back to school.

“Great idea! Let’s send him back to school tomorrow so he can buy the town out of Excedrin and fail out at the same time! At least now the school knows-”

“-the school thinks he’s not ready, because that’s what you told ‘em. The neurologist ,” he mocked, “said he’d be good to go back in a month. It’s been a month!”

Rose held one end of her belt in her hand and gave it a squeeze, but it wasn’t enough to keep her hands from flying out. “So what do you want to do about all that now, huh? School gets out on Friday. Want him to poke his head in for the last couple days?”

“Maybe, but-”

“Oh, but you felt so strongly before, didn’t you?” His serious re-consideration deflated back into bickering as she pushed herself off the bed. “Here, I’ll go tell him to set his clock-”

“Rose, don’t. I don’t want to fight about this anymore.” He swung his legs over his side and jammed his feet into his slippers.

“So why the hell bring it up?! Just to piss me off?” 

“Rose.”

“What?!”

“Just come back to bed.”

Tired, she conceded, although she took on the same surly, reluctant mask Nathan wore at the table. They folded themselves into bed like mealworms crawling under someone elses’ skin. Things had been sour before, but the answer wasn’t quite as clear as it had been in years’ past… Nathan was usually the one who made them hash it all out, whether he knew it or not, but now that he was in the middle of the problem at-hand, it was even harder for Rose and Oscar to set aside.

When the lights went out, she felt Oscar nest himself around her, but after moving his hand off her thigh three separate times, she gave him a swat and turned onto her stomach.

[2crim2clove]

doot doot doot

forced to get tutoring from someone everyone else calls a genius, a gr6398 at gmail as their email. signed george.

he’s early because he went to the library early to study and fell asleep

wakes up to someone putting their shit on the table next to his head LOUDLY

and a girl with golden brown hair up in a neat bun, bangs, and brown rimmed glasses tips them down at him. “you’re lance.”

this was odd, did he send his girlfriend or was this a library employee? that made sense, why else was she english? “yeah?"

sticks her hand out, back straight. he offers a fist bump and she sighs, sticks her hand out further. “i’m george."

this has him sitting up. “uh -"

“yes i know it is traditionally a boy’s name. no i do not want to explain nor do i want you to call me by my full name. it’s george.” very stern.

“‘kay. still lance.” he tries a flirty smile but she sits down and doesn’t catch it. “didn’t expect for my tutor to be english."

“this school is full of international students."

he laughs at this. “i know, my best friend came here so i followed him. he’s french. you know him, esteban?"

this gets him a very curious look. “yes i know esteban. wouldn’t have stuck you two together.” a frown. “why isn’t he tutoring you?"

“um, didn’t want to put him in a weird place where i’m paying him and he feels like he can’t actually force me into shit?” she gave him a flat look at this. “not like you’re gonna have to force me or whatever, but y’know, he’s my bestie. you are …"

“the other person who gets as much aid as esteban does to come here. i mean, it’s clear why i would -“ she stops herself and opens her notebook. “besides the point. we’re here to talk maths, not talk personal lives. i have a reputation and a tutoring schedule and a life, so lets not get distracted."

it’s a rough start, she doesn’t let him slack, but once they start, she seems to be everywhere on campus. at the gym, in the same buildings, in the union, even in the same off campus coffee shop, but here she’s clearly tutoring someone else and being annoyed by the main barista with bleached hair and an english accent. he figures out she only wears her glasses when she’s studying, and has about five pairs she rotates between.

two months in, he invites her to a frat party. “you and like, whoever. if you want.” he doesn’t know if he really wants her to come, she’s kind of an asshole, but he’s inviting everyone he knows and it’s like … polite?

she does show, and it’s a toga party and hers is … barely kissing her thigh, so much skin that is somehow tan for it being october. she is, however, essentially chased into the house by one of the brothers from another frat, a much shorter girl in a similar toga laughing across the lawn, and then the guy with bleached hair and what’s clearly his gf follow her in, yanking the random dude out.

he loses them for a bit after that, asked to help seb move something, and when he’s back, the graduate frat brother that he really liked, fernando, is talking to her in the corner of the yard. She’s on one of the tables so they can be eye level, listening intently over her red solo cup that lance hopes is the jungle juice with the nice vodka and not the keg that he’d had smuggled in here. fer is definitely too old for her, but he’s flirting hard, tugging the pins out of her hair so it falls around her face and it’s styled and lance’s kinda mad it’s not him doing it.

when she sees him watching them, though, she stands up and essentially runs out of the party, her tiny bike shorts on display.

about two minutes later, the guy from the other frat pops his head over the fence, a horned headband on. “s’george here?"

lance’s tempted to say who, but fernando shakes his head. “no, she said she’d left someone asleep in a lando’s room."

a big, doofy grin. “i’m lando."

“yes, she said there was a luisa in your room she was supposed to bring?”

this has the guy flinging himself away from the fence and yelling for someone named carlos.

“george, she is cute, si?” fernando asks as he heads back inside. “she is letting me take her to dinner.” a comment flung over his shoulder.

“when?"

it’s only this that has fernando stop. “lance, that is your tutor. she’s allowed to have a life."

“not an answer!” but calling after fer is useless, and lance finishes his drink.

that night he dreams of long, tan legs against white fabric and wakes up hard and miserable

[syndrananiesha]

The DJ

I met the DJ thru Twitter. Ten years of following each other turned what was supposed to be a drunk, x filled one-nighter into a strange, yet passionate friendship full of realizations, release, removal, and reconnection after reconnection.

This man really had/has me doing things I never thought I could do. I don't mean just sexually, but mentally and emotionally. It's so easy to just speak my mind with this mutha fucka that it is somewhat irritating. I can't hide a thing from him, no matter how hard I try.

From the first time we had sex in his grandparents' living room, to the last time we had sex in the Embassy Suites, it has been amazing. I've never had someone make me orgasm or squirt as much as this man.

I still remember the shit like it was yesterday. It was 11/7/2020. I was talking crazy (highly sexual) on twitter and he so happened to hop in my inbox. I said i had plans to hang with my homegirl G after the Experience, but if things fell thru i would hit him up. I went to the experience. When I got back to my car, I looked at my phone. I sat there for 10 minutes before I even unlocked it. I looked up at the roof and said out loud, "If I'm supposed to go with this man, give me a sign." I called G and she answered the phone like, "Yeah, my dude just came over. Imma call u tomorrow, son."

In that moment, my life changed forever. I met up with him and we went to his grandparents house. I sat on the sofa closest to the door, nervous as hell. Like a teenager. Mind racing, hands shaking, beads of sweat across my baby hairs... He walked to me and grabbed my hands to pull me up. I stood up and he was staring me in my eyes. I almost passed out. My hands were in this awkward position because I didn't know if I should hug him or kiss him or what. Remember, this is the first man I've had sex with after my ex n I broke up (May 2020). My ex was the only man I had sex with since May 2017.

Im holding my hands out and down. Like the "I don't know what to do" stance.. He looked me in my eyes and said, "Don't be scared. You can touch me." He leaned in, pulled my hands around his waist, and slammed his tongue into my mouth with such command that I came, right there, fully clothed, in that moment in his grandparents' living room. From that moment, it was a whirlwind. I was tossed every way imaginable. I squirted all over the living room floor. I heard my own juices splash on the linoleum. I had never did that. It hyped him up even more.

He nudged me back to the sofa to sit. I sat down and he got on his knees. He looked me in my eyes, spread my kegs open and began to ravage my pussy with his tongue. As I tried to watch him, my eyes started to roll back. He stopped and grabbed my face and said, "I told you a long time ago to keep this pussy away from me. Now look," and then he dove back in like he never stopped. I orgasmed so much that night, I lost a piece of my mind. And that STILL wasn't the best session with him...

The orgasm record is 61 and YES that was an hour session in the back of my minivan by the river in Gretna. I sang "If Only You Knew" by Patti Labelle while I had his dick in my mouth in my van in my sister's backyard one night.

This last time he made me squirt 6 times. He also made me orgasm twice from rubbing his face on my chest and stomach and twice from blowing on my nipples, no other form of touch needed.

I've also been a dummy. The nigga is separated but not yet divorced. Hes had gfs since. One time, I rode from Houston to South Carolina with 250 pills in my console. I cosigned for him to get an apartment. I bought him gifts, bought his kids food thru Walmart online. Even bought them bday gifts.

He's a kind person but a real asshole. I guess that's the cruelty of the Creator.

[handelplayssims]

Forgot to check age at this point! Autumn has...81 days until ageing up. Plus three for Saturday, Friday, Thursday and then minus 15 is 69 so...adding a few more days makes it 65 days until ageing up until we leave this household. Eating breakfast of mac and cheese and then editing and uploading video of mixology. And then Autumn sleeps.

...so Sims can now just turn up asking to become best friends. High School Years addition. I thought it was only for teens but nope! I got Belle Brandt popping in to ask to become besties. Listen lady, it was one chat on the dance floor. We ain’t that close. Waking up and Freddie’s whims are to buy a new computer and chat with Mitchell. ...sure he would think the downstairs computer needs to be upgraded. Also since Belle is here, might as well tend the massage chair and see if she wants to go for it. And she does! Nice! And hey! So does Mitchell! Nice nice nice. Need to make that money back. Also Mitchell seemed drawn to the keg I bough for this household so...I have a second idea! But in setting up for that idea, Mitchell woke up Autumn with playing the guitar nearby! How rude!

JUICE! JUICE! JUICE! JUICE! JUICE!

Let’s check on Autumn now. Her whim is to – be friendly with a non-household Sim. Sounds like a good launch off point for making another teen friend! Going off of who I remember at school, and wanting to make another gal friend, we’re visiting the Caliente household! To visit Maria Caliente During our chatter we find out that she likes video games! Well, why not head home and play on Autumn’s console then? (And it works for the, ‘win a competitive game whim.’) Annnd she lost. Welp. Over to Freddie and his whims are to level up in Charisma, as a tie-in to his aspiration, and to have a drink at the lounge. Hmm. Let’s pre-plan a party shall we? A keg party on Tuesday! Anyway, whim is still up on Autumn to win a game so uh, let’s go with a chess game against her brother. ...results inconclusive, I set her up to go to the restroom and it somehow took priority. Also the two are now good friends. Woo. Autumn’s heading to bed and- hmm. Freddie probably has too little energy to properly enjoy a lounge drink. Alas! Vibe until bedtime!

Neighborhood Watch!

Avani Srinivasan in the Srinivasan household has died. Avani blushed so much she exploded.

Fabian McMillan in the McMillan household has died. No cliffanger here; Fabian slipped while rock climbing.

Autumn is waking up sore from punching a boxing bag in her gamer rage. Things I wish I had when I am in gamer rage. First whim is to- oooh, list an outfit on Trendi. That is something that’s tied into this aspiration. We got four hours until school so let’s save that for after. Second whim is to make someone happy. Easier said than done with Meaningful Stories. I mean, making friends is one way to do so. Things to do, things to do before school… like actually doing homework? Sure why not. Only got it 25 percent done. Alas! Let’s see...now is the time to make judgements on the teens and their fashions so I can make a new friend. Let’s go with...Sidney Price! Introductions and finding out he’s active guy and a cheerleading dude. To math class! Which raises logic skill! Fair enough. Fashion judgement round 2! Let’s go with...Koichi Takeuchi! He’s a Cat Lover! ...and also Mean. Welp. Next school job thing is to...do the T-pose challenge. Well, hey, we can do that! And we have a little time left so let’s chat with Sidney some more. Next is Science class. Also raises logic! Right! Enough of school! Let’s finally check out the Thrift-and-Bubble Tea store! Weird combo but eh, Sims.

This is my first time actually checking out this place! Even in an alt file where I played the Prescott household, I didn’t find too many excuses to come over here.

Anyway, this is a tie-in with a fashion reseller called Trendi, where evidently, you do similar things on this app that you do here. Find fashion and resell it. As someone who’s not into fashion normally, this is WAAAY out of my league. Also -leers at advertisement- Hilariously, this is considered the most well-realized part of the pack. But also, this reminds me that styles are a thing also introduced in this pack. I might as well poke through the fashions and see if any of Autumn and Freddie. Seems to be a basics lean for Autumn and a preppy one for her brother. Annnd we’re over at Freddie since he was the one I was on screen last. Back to your sister! Food seems blech! It’s sliders and corndogs. That’s stuff high school sells!

Fashion is certainly...a thing. Anyway, what’s trending is Country stylings. Heh. Topical considering what other packs are released....I’ve having fun seeing that what I would like to wear veers more boho than country. Sound about right!

So I got my country look and what I would personally wear. Of course it's comfy casual. Let’s go and sell the Country outfit on Trendi. Now from what I understand, you can make LOADS of money just selling stuff but for right now, all I have is 164 followers from repeatedly posting my look. Let’s just keep it neutral and sell it for a modest price. Anyway, enough with fashion! It’s time to go and talk with Sidney some more! Found out his fashion preferences which is, dislikes outdoors, likes basics and likes streetwear. And it’s time to work for Autumn! Man I completely forgot about that. A few more socials and- welp. She has a crush on Sidney. I am PRETTY CERTIAN he’s gay. Weeeeeelp. Let’s head home and get to work. Let’s see what’s trending on the video machine and if any can have lifestyle reviews...same as before so not really! Anyway, Freddie wants to watch sports on tv, which I would leap into like, playing with the soccer ball or basketball or something but it’s far too late. Perhaps a run on the treadmill before bed. Oh and I checked my inventory before sending Autumn to bed and Akira Kibo wanted the dress-y outfit. You do you, you ghost.

Neighborhood Watch

Brindleton Bay: The Cormier household has moved in.