#Like you can't. You can't have a life anymore you just have to work for the most basic necessities and you're left with no time no money

[toastedpotatoes]

"What's all this about?" asked someone behind him during a lull in his routine. Their voice carried the distinct lilt of the Folk (good) and an air of extreme exasperation (slightly less good).

Jal turned to face them, cooking implements still in his hands. "Finally—I mean, it would sure suck if—"

"I heard you the first time," said the newcomer, voice tired and dry as dead bark. "And we do understand sarcasm."

"Oh," he said. There went his plans. "Um. Take me anyway? Please?"

They stood facing him a long while, their expression reading visibly as why do I have to deal with this? even in the moonlight.

He must've got stuck with a dud or something. Weren't the Folk supposed to be... magic? Ethereal? Something greater than what amounted to little more than a sharp-eared person with lichen in their hair?

They sighed. "First of all, if you wanted us to take you, why did you bring iron?"

"Oh," Jal said for the second time. He looked down at the pots and pans. "I wanted to get your attention."

"Well, it worked. It also made an incredible racket. Put them away now."

He hesitated—he wasn't exactly eager to lay down his best defense against things like them—but this was his best chance at getting out of his life. He set them down outside the mushroom ring.

"Second," they continued, "why did you decide that the best time to do this was the middle of the night?"

This he had an answer for. "Well, you lot always dance in circles under the full moon, don't you? Figured now would be a good time."

They sighed again, muttered something about sky folk messing everything up, and said, "Not always."

Jal was getting impatient. The night was too chilly, he honestly should have been in the fey realms by now, and instead here he was getting interrogated by some house brownie. "So can you take me or not?"

"I can," they replied. "Doesn't mean I will. Why're you so eager to get abducted anyway?"

"Why's it matter?"

"It matters because I'm the one deciding if you get to go or not. And I'm being rightfully suspicious of the weirdly-excited-to-get-kidnapped human here."

He looked around for anything else he could do besides spill his life story to one of the Folk. There were still the pots and pans—if he could grab one quick enough—but they noticed him looking and their eyes flashed green in the moonlit dark and suddenly all the knots in the surrounding trees were blinking, watching, watching—

"I want a new life!" he cried, not missing how the trees snapped back to normal as soon as he spoke. "I want a fresh start! There's nothing left for me over there anyways. My home's evicted me, my friends've all left, and I can't face anyone there anymore, and—"

"You do realize that none of this necessitates banging bowls together in a mushroom circle, right?"

"They're not bowls, they're—never mind. Just—I can't stay here anymore."

They thought a moment. "Go back to bed."

"No!" He didn't even have a bed anymore. He didn't have anything left to lose. This was his only chance.

"Give me your name, and I'll take you."

Okay, maybe he had one thing left to lose.

"I'm not that dumb," he said, ignoring the highly doubtful look he received. He rifled through his pockets for—

"Thirty dollars?" he offered.

Their eyes narrowed at the bills he held out. "I don't need your money, and it wouldn't be enough anyhow."

"Thirty dollars and I don't leave all this iron in your precious forest."

They deliberated on this, periodically glaring at the lovely assortment of metal noisemakers he'd brought with him. "Fine. Deal. Pack up your clanking mess."

"Yes!" He gathered up his things and took their proffered hand, giddy enough that it was about five seconds before he realized they were leading him away from the mushroom ring, not into it.

"Wait," he said. "You said you'd take me."

"Never said where," they replied, calmly, and for a moment it felt like the trees had eyes again.

"Wait—but—where are we—"

"Relax," they said. "Just the nearest inn. You really need to go to bed." They picked a twig out of their hair. "And so do I, to be honest."

"OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!" cried the man banging pots and pans together in the middle of a mushroom circle.

[isaadore]

OFF THE RECORD JACK HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎pairing jack hughes x pr manager!reader

SUMMARY being jack’s pr manager was supposed to be a stepping stone in your career, not a constant exercise in crisis management. jack was talented, charismatic, and an absolute menace when it came to following media protocol. every press conference felt like a battle, every interview a test of patience. and somehow, amidst the chaos, he had made it his personal mission to get under your skin. but the real problem? you weren’t sure you minded it as much as you should. word count 0.6k

warnings fluff, flirting, workplace romance, failed attempt at enemies to lovers

note requested by my #1 (@cyberhughes) for my 1k celebration, thanks for requesting bbg 🔥🔥 but idk why i put enemies to lovers as a trope, i can't even write it properly, so hope this meets ur expectations 😜

JH86 MASTERLIST EVENT MASTERLIST

JACK WAS A PR nightmare. Not because he was reckless or controversial, no, that would have been easy to handle. The problem was that he simply didn’t care. Media obligations were an inconvenience, interviews were a form of torture, and following a script? Not a chance. He made that abundantly clear the first time you tried prepping him before a post-game conference.

“Jack, just stick to the key points,” you said, pacing in front of him while he leaned back in his locker room stall. “Emphasize the team’s effort, don’t overpromise about injuries, and for the love of God, don’t chirp the reporter again.”

He smirked. “What? You don’t think they deserve it?”

“That’s not the point.” You exhaled, pressing your fingers to your temples. “The point is to keep things smooth and professional. Just, please try, okay?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll be good.”

That promise lasted exactly two questions into the presser before he decided to call out a reporter for always betting against the Devils. You barely suppressed a groan as you worked on damage control, sending out an apologetic statement before Jack even finished his last answer. When he walked off, he gave you a smug little glance, and you swore he enjoyed making your life difficult.

“You love the attention, don’t you?” you muttered as you walked side by side back to the locker room.

Jack shrugged. “Nah, I just like seeing you all worked up.”

Your fingers tightened around your phone. “You’re insufferable.”

He grinned. “And you’re fun when you’re mad.”

It had been like this since the day you got hired. Every interaction was a push and pull, him testing your patience, you trying (and failing) to keep him in line. But somewhere between the bickering and the exasperation, there were moments that felt dangerously close to something else. The way his eyes lingered when you weren’t looking. The way your pulse jumped when he leaned in too close under the guise of making a joke. The way your stomach flipped every time his teasing turned just a little too soft.

It all came to a head after an especially heated argument over his latest social media post, a photo with a caption that was ambiguous enough to spark trade rumours. Your phone had been blowing up all morning with calls from reporters, and fans in a frenzy over the idea that he might be leaving New Jersey.

“Jack, what the hell were you thinking?” you snapped, storming into the locker room before the morning skate.

He turned from where he was taping his stick, completely unbothered. “Relax. People overreact to everything.”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady your frustration. “That’s exactly why you have to be careful. You’re not just some kid on Instagram anymore. Every word, every post, it matters.”

Jack stood, stepping closer. “What if I just like getting a reaction out of you?”

Your breath caught. It was the way he said it, not with the usual cocky smirk, but with something quieter. More intent. You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was. Of the heat rolling off him, the sharpness of his gaze.

“You really love making my job impossible, don’t you?” you said, voice softer than you meant.

Jack’s lips quirked, but there was something different in his expression now. Something serious. “I think you like it.”

You should have walked away. Should have reminded him that you were his PR manager and that this was strictly professional. But when he leaned in, when his voice dropped just enough to make your pulse stutter, you realized something horrible.

He might be right.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ JH86 MASTERLIST ✷ EVENT MASTERLIST

[wlwsoccerfics]

Building a Home(GraceClintonXTooneReader)

Warnings: sprained ankle.

Summary: you and Grace are working on making the House you brought a Home.

You currently stood in the livingroom, putting in new flooring. Yes you did it yourself cause you were quite Handy when it came to building stuff.

"Babe? Are you sure you don't need help?" Grace asked you from the doorway. Your older sister Ella standing next to her. She was texting Alessia. Her best friend and your England teammate.

"No i got it Love!" You told her, giving her a thumbs up.

"that's very attractive! How you build everything and repair it!" Grace let you know.

"keep it in your Pants, Girls." Your sister said, you flipped her off.

"Love you too, Ella!" You just replied and chuckled softly.

"for real, tooney your sister is really talented. can't believe she did basically everything around the house herself!" Grace answered.

"you are so in love. It's cute!" Ella spoke up.

"both of us happily in love! Good for us!" You told your sister and she nodded her head in agreement.

"true!" She said.

Grace watched you, smiling.

"can't believe i get to marry you soon!" Your fiancee admitted.

"better believe it! I don't just fix stuff for everyone! Just Family, Close Friends and the love of my Life!" You told Grace.

"okay tune it down a bit! That's a bit much. Even for me!" Ella stated and you chuckled softly.

"you are at our place! So stop complaining. You can just leave, you know!" You let your sister know, teasing her.

"but it's lonely at home. My other half isn't there!" She said.

"we know. You keep telling all of us! You even complained to Lessi about it multiple times!" Your fiancee told your sister. Your sister decided to ignore what was just being said.

"also it wouldn't make sense for me to leave and go home cause the three of us have practice in like an hour." Ella answered.

"let me just finish the last few pieces i have already cut out and then i will get ready for practice so we can drive to the training grounds!" You told both Ella and Grace. Turning your snapback around on your head so it was backwards before going back to work.

Grace and Ella went to the kitchen.

"i can't believe my sister build this. It's a career path in case she ever doesn't want to Play football anymore!" Your sister said. Grace was really proud of you.

" it's perfect. She enjoys to build and to repair and i love to decorate! Works out perfectly!" Your fiancee stated.

"it does indeed." Ella answered. The two discussed the kitchen Layout a little more before you showed up in the doorway ten minutes later.

"i will get ready now so i can drive us to practice." You announced, walking over to Grace to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. You then walked upstairs.

You quickly got dressed for practice. Grace and Ella were already dressed for a while. They grabbed their bags when you came back downstairs and walked to your Car. You locked the Front door of your Home and got into the drivers seat of your Car. Ella in the backseat and Grace was being your passenger princess like most of the time.

You were listening to Reneé Rapp. Cause you really loved her music and you had the rule that the driver could choose the music.

When you arrived at the training grounds your parked the Car and the three of you walked inside. Running into your captain Maya and Leah on the way in.

"hey Love Birds, Hey Ella!" Maya said, smiling at the three of you.

"hey you!" You replied.

"how is the House renovation coming along?" Leah asked.

"it's going great! Y/n is quite fast." Grace told them.

"my sister has Talent, i must admit!" Ella stated.

"probably hurt your Ego to say this!" You said teasingly. She playfully shoved you.

"hey Tooney, don't hurt my future wife!" Grace told your sister.

"If you need help let me know!" Maya offered.

"i am happy to help as well!" Leah let you know.

"i will keep that in mind! Thanks for the offer!" You replied.

You got changed into your Football cleats before walking out to the trainings pitch with the others. Holding hands with Grace. You two didn't mind the teasing you received from your teammates.

Practice was going well until Grace slipped and clutched her ankle. You kneeled down in front of her.

"baby, don't try and stand up." You told her, examing her ankle. Your sister informing the medics to come over and Check on you.

"it doesn't Hurt so bad!" She told you. You sighed softly.

"Babe it looks sprained. Better safe then sorry! Let the medics check you over, please!" You said.

"okay..." She replied, holding her ankle. The medics took her inside to exam her ankle. You followed them.

Grace indeed had a sprained ankle and got a walking boot for the next two weeks just to be sure. You made sure to take care of her and let her rest while also finishing up the livingroom renovations.

Oh and not to forget that you two were planning your Wedding.

[specialgradefckr]

Catching Strays

Satoru Gojo is rich. Obscenely so.

But he's also busy - too busy to have time to meet someone and go through all the song and dance of dating and having a relationship.

The hookups... even being a certified fantastic top tier lay, it's just not doing it for him anymore.

He wants that connection. The intimacy. The personal knowledge and inside jokes and soft affection that comes with a relationship.

And sure, some of it is on him. He's got a fun personality - jokes and jibes and little remarks that he really doesn't mean badly, but tend to be taken in certain ways.

("That's a lot of words to say I'm an asshole." His last potential date had snapped. "Even with a face like yours, people have standards. My life doesn't revolve around you.")

Really, he's nice when you get to know him! But he's also lonely, and bored, and every hobby he tries out never lasts more than a couple days.

It's hard, being as naturally talented and intuitive and as intelligent as him. Everything gets old so fast. It's all too easy.

Gets him wound up. He's got so much energy. And the one thing that never gets old to him? Other people.

So when he meets new people he can be sort of... overwhelming. Overly familiar. Annoying. Clingy.

(Okay, maybe he's a little bitter about how that last one. He'd offered to pay her bills! Why was she so worked up over her dumb career? He had way more money, and he was plenty generous with it!)

Lately, he's been toying with a different solution to his problems - hybrids.

They're like people, just basically as pets (which sounds a little messed up when he thinks about it, so he promptly stops thinking, and the problem goes away) - companions who can live with him, eat with him at mealtimes, cuddle up and even provide some intimacy.

That sort of thing is apparently frowned on, but who cares? It's not like he'd ever force anyone. One look at him and they'd be begging for it.

Do you ever think about anyone besides yourself? You're going to wake up alone one day, with no one to put up with your selfishness.

And besides, they'd live together! They'd become friends naturally!

Yeah... a pet would be great for a busy guy like him. Just some cute thing sitting and waiting for him at home, ready to jump on him as soon as he's back.

("Gojo, you barely take care of yourself. You think you can take care of another person?"

"Please, I've looked this up! Cat hybrids are especially independent. Come on, can't you see me with a cute little kitty curled up in my lap?"

"You're actually hopeless.")

Shoko doesn't know what she's talking about. He can be responsible, he simply chooses not to, because life is easier that way. But cats are easy to take care of!

He just has to find the right one. He's been to a couple shelters, but none of the hybrids there have spoken to him.

It's kitten season, apparently - they're really pushing the young ones on him. But Satoru, despite what Shoko thinks, is responsible. He's looking for something older, mature, able to take care of itself (and also consent).

And what does he see as he strolls through a less-wealthy part of town on his way to his favorite ramen shop?

A cute little stray, big pleading eyes and a sign saying "Anything Helps", tail curled up around you as you look up hopefully to passing strangers.

His heart squeezes a little at the sight. There's a small dish in front of you with a scattering of spare change.

Satoru stops, mid-stride, backing up and grinning down at you.

Looks like it's this kitty's lucky day.

So... it turns out it's not so simple to adopt a stray hybrid.

It's a little annoying. You're a sorry, scraggly thing, begging for scraps in a dingy side corner.

And yet you seem to take some kind of issue with his generous offer of adoption.

Satoru supposes he can forgive you for not trusting a stranger, but he brought you out for ramen! You sat with him for the whole meal! That's longer than ninety percent of his dates have tolerated him!

Deep down, some voice is echoing the same old taunts in different words.

Even a stray off the street doesn't want your company. The best you can do is bribe people to love you, and even with all your money, the love runs out quick.

Funny how the voice sounds a lot like his mother! When talking to his dad, of course. Not him. His parents both loved him.

They'd sent him to the most expensive schools, bought him all the latest and greatest of everything, gave him a penthouse and a vacation home as a graduation gift.

Only, it was sort of big for him to live in all by himself. Satoru tries explaining it to you, but you're reluctant for some reason.

It's hard to tell, between all your stammering and nervous trailing off. How you seemed to stare at him, distracted by his beauty.

Heh. He does get that a lot. But you're the cutest, sweetest, most darling creature he's ever laid eyes on, all pathetic and needy-eyed, and he's not going home without a kitty today.

"What do I have to do to make you come with me?" Satoru says it bluntly. "I have money. All the money you could ever want. You can eat bluefin tuna every day-"

"I eat the blue tunas all the time," You interrupt him eagerly, "The ones in the can!"

"Not those - it's - listen, just tell me you'll come back with me!" He really wants to take you home now. You're just too cute.

Your ears droop (oh my GOD it's so adorable), "I'm sorry, I... I don't know. I need to get back to my spot before Suguru comes looking for me."

A dark feeling seems to creep over him like a shadow. You have an owner? And he's making you beg out on the streets?

Well, you are a very convincing cutie. But Satoru doesn't support scam artists! He makes you eat canned tuna.

You do seem to be in relatively good condition, though, now that he takes a second look at you. No fresh cuts or bruises, not a scratch. Your clothes are worn and dirty but you're surprisingly well groomed otherwise.

"And you want to go back with him? I'm way richer," Satoru says, crossing his arms, looking down at you over his glasses.

"Oh, uh, Suguru is also a stray," You say sheepishly, tail swaying gently, "He's my friend. He takes care of me, I could never leave him behind."

Something twists in his chest. You didn't want to leave your friend - that was why.

One pet was already a reach for him, really. But taking in you both?

Give it up already. You're not capable of love. You aren't capable of caring about anyone besides yourself. You're selfish, and you're fine with it.

You'll die alone, Gojo.

He smiles at you, a wide, easy grin.

"I've got room for two."

[grison-in-space]

I have funding until mid May unless my PI finds more somewhere (*high pitched laughter*) and her best advice for me as a postdoc is to go into IT and get out of science at least temporarily. I started my PhD in god-damned 2012, just in time for the 2013 shutdown, got it in 2020 despite four major housing disruptions and my advisor deciding that he was entitled to murder my career in its cradle because I made him feel ooky for constantly sending me down wrong ends.

I fished my career out of the soup by going from a NSF EEB-oriented neuroendocrinology specialty to working on the impact of neurodivergence on motivation and decision-making, especially in terms of sex and gender. It will be essentially impossible to replace my extremely unusual background and perspective in the field. Tough titties, I guess, because I'm not in my twenties anymore and I can't absorb this kind of career abuse forever.

I'm so fucking angry and tired and sad all the fucking time and now I have to job hunt about it! And all I ever fucking wanted to do was figure shit out and put up with the precarity in service of generating knowledge that helps people understand themselves in relation to the natural world. I have spent the last thirteen fucking years trying to serve my country with my mind and my training and now I have to give up my fucking career because what, some self proclaimed leftists didn't want to sully their hands by voting for a killjoy woman. Again.

I don't want to get out of bed, but my chance to actually finish the really cool project I've spent the last four years working on so that people believe I have skills is evaporating under me if I don't. I am so so so so angry and tired about it and I feel betrayed all the time. I worked so hard for this. I structured my whole adult life around this fucking career and I feel completely thrown away, especially since we are getting starved out rather than fired.

I'm so angry and heartsick and it's not fair. I should know better than to think life is fair, but fuck, I'm so exhausted and angry and full of grief about this bullshit. I don't even believe there will be consequences for anyone involved. Certainly the international job market won't be able to absorb us all, which means we get to flood the local skilled knowledge markets and drive wages down because our labor is apparently fucking worthless.

I just want to cry all the time. I'm trying to step forward where I can but it's hard when you're out of time and the plan is to starve you out rather than fire you outright. My mentor is looking for options but where is she going to find them?

It's so painful. It really feels like a confirmation of how much scientists are valued (not much, since giving us a pathway to a steady, comfortable life isn't a fucking priority). Why do I have to be graceful about the pain of it?

I've hesitated to write anything about the federal cuts and their impact on science infrastructure in the US, in part because I just don't know where to start.

How to express my rage, or my sadness, or the panic I feel as a scientist currently funded on a federal grant. Or watching the careers of colleagues, friends, and loved ones hang in the balance or be destroyed entirely.

I don't know what to say. My heart aches for those who were doing the important work not only of science but also of making it more accessible, equitable, and diverse. Some of these scientists lost their salary, benefits, and funding overnight. My heart aches knowing that the science we are still able to do will be so much less vibrant without their contributions, should they be unable to return to science.

I've watched over the last few weeks as several of my potential career paths went up in smoke. Federal agency jobs gone, slashes to funding slowing academic science to a halt and resulting in hiring freezes. What jobs there are still now have an applicant pool that tripled overnight.

I have no idea what the future holds, but there is a very real and present possibility that I will not be able to do science as a career. I'm not going down without a fight, but nevertheless it looms as a potential reality for which I have to plan.

I began my PhD in 2018. I withstood so much emotional turmoil, a pandemic, loss and grief and doubt, and I came out the other side with those three letters after my name. I knew there would be hard times again but I also believed surely that nothing would ever be as arduous or difficult as that again. I had survived a PhD; I could do anything.

If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading. If you've been affected by this, I'm wishing you well and my DMs are always open. Call your reps. Nurture your community.

[errriiie]

Pre-Crash!Lottie Matthews NSFW Alphabet

cause being so majestic and sexy at the same time it's a crime. minors DNI !!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Charlotte is a gentle and thrifty person by nature, even if she has lived her entire life through the prism of her father's wealth and luxury. When you are both finished, she feels obliged to caress you. Massage your shoulders and back, stroke your head and brush your hair, kiss your face? She's happy to lift your spirits and please you with tenderness. She enjoys cooing after the connection you have shared, and she feels inspired and energized. B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners) Lottie likes your chest - not in a sexual way, really, although during sex she can't stop watching your boobs bounce with your intense movements. She likes your chest as something to lean against when she's catching her breath, and to hear your heartbeat pounding fast. It grounds her. After years of being coldly treated by her parents, she needs to feel like there's someone alive, someone warm, and that someone loves her. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) Lottie likes to cum in your mouth. She likes to hold your head close to her, but not to squeeze your hair. She gets wild satisfaction when your mouth is so close to hers during climax, and you are able to take every drop of her juices inside you. Even better if you swallow it. She can do it back, although she doesn't like it as much. D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Lottie likes body hair, especially your private parts. She doesn't quite want to admit it to you (there's still a stigma attached to not shaving in the 90s), but she does like to nuzzle your hairy pussy and find it extremely soft and pleasant, just like stroking your legs and kissing your happy trail. Her family has always pressured her to maintain a certain appearance, to look neat and proper, and perhaps wanting to see it natural is one form of rebellion against her parents' rules. E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Lottie was nervous at the very beginning. She was a virgin before you, and was in no hurry to open up to anyone about anything, including sex, even if she knew about masturbation and often did it to herself. With your support, she quickly cleaned up and happily remembers what you like more or less. She is always surprised when she finds something new and especially pleasant for herself. F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying) Sorry, but she's a sucker for licking (lol). She loves to get on the bed and have you between her legs, or vice versa, get between yours and start working her tongue magic on you. Praise included. G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.) I think Lottie is quite serious. She is quite sensitive not only to sex but also to your intimacy - this is how she shows that it is important to her. She does not want to ruin your moment with jokes or inappropriate humor, and she prefers kisses and languid glances to ringing laughter, although she is ready to exchange smiles. H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Lottie has to shave her legs, arms and armpits - she doesn't like it, but it is required of her. She also, strangely for her, keeps her pubic area in relative order - she doesn't shave, but she trims the hair to a short length. She really doesn't want you to shave. Returning to her dirty secret, it excites her, and every time you shave you can see her sad doe eyes and this disappointment.

"I thought we agreed that you don't shave anymore!" Lottie snorts, looking away with her brown doelike eyes so as not to look at your naked body. You look puzzled, and a slight feeling of guilt overwhelms you. "Lottie, I just felt uncomfortable. Everything was prickly and crawling through my panties… You shave yourself, by the way." You try to protect your honor. She looks at you seriously, like that part of her has been wanting you to guess the secret she can't admit for a long time. "Next time I'll cut your hair myself, okay? In your girlfriend's name, I… I forbid you to shave from this day forward." She says awkwardly and awkwardly, and you can't help but smile. She's definitely hiding something from you, and you're determined to figure out how it relates to your pubic area.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.) Lottie is quite romantic. She is a supporter of more gentle and slow sex, where you can both enjoy each other, dissolving in the moment, but sometimes she has a desire to dominate you and be more strict. Usually this happens after she is upset with you in some way or after a quarrel where you have already made up, but the sediment still remains. In this way, she basically punishes you. Not that you would mind! J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon) Lottie masturbated quite often before you started having sex. Her parents were always away working on their business, and there was often nothing to do in the huge mansion, and then she began to explore her body. She learned long ago to masturbate the way she liked, and she loves this activity, although with the appearance of you in her life she began to need direct sex more than jerking off. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Sorry, Mommy? Praise. Praise is Lottie's biggest kink. She enjoys praising you and receiving praise equally. She wants to show you how much she appreciates you, and at the same time, she wants to prove that you think she's a good and worthy girlfriend for you, even with all her problems. Your praise immediately makes her panties get wet and her body seems to reorganize, making her cum faster. L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) I think Lottie is usually pretty traditional about where to have sex with you - a bed or a couch is fine with her. Sometimes she catches herself thinking that sex in the woods would be nice. She doesn't understand where she gets such desires from and tries not to ask herself questions. M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) Your offer to have sex and playful hands in the most sensitive places may be enough, but she really likes it when you prepare for sex. She likes buying you expensive lingerie and knowing that you specially put it on under your clothes to please her. She loves lace and the thought that you prepared for her is the best motivation in itself. N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Physical pain. She doesn't like the idea of ​​hitting you or choking you, and is skeptical and wary of it. She may spank you if you're being naughty, but even that will be fake. She's much more into worshiping your body. She also doesn't usually comment on you in a negative or degrading way, although she might if it comes to frustrated sex. This usually doesn't happen, but maybe you'd like to see it more often. O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) I am of the firm opinion that Lottie prefers to give cunnilingus a little more than any other practitioner. I don't know why, but I believe in her oral fixation, so rest assured that she is ready to give you her mouth any time you want it, but Lottie is also ready and enjoys asking you to do the same. As mentioned earlier, being a quick learner is one of Charlotte's best skills, and she is very experienced with you indeed. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Lottie really does like to take things slow. She's not the most patient person outside the bedroom - but with you she likes to stretch things out. She's used to being able to get whatever she wants with a snap of her fingers, and she likes to push her boundaries with long foreplay, even if she really wants to get down to business.

Sometimes, though, she'll have a bad day or a bad thought, and if you're having sex, she really can take things a little less gently and a little more roughly, focusing more on her own pleasure.

"That's it, baby? Do you like the way I fuck you?" her fingers were deep inside you, while Lottie was rubbing her pussy against your bent knee. You couldn't utter a word - Lottie always caught you off guard with her bad mood. "Y-yes, please, Lots, more…" you whisper absentmindedly, taking Lottie inside you. Lottie smirks before deliberately pulling her fingers out of you to your utterly disappointed sigh and shoving them into your mouth. "Do you deserve it?" she asks with narrowed eyes. "Be a good girl for me and then maybe I'll help you cum."

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Given her behavior towards you, Lottie rarely agrees to quick sex, and it is difficult for her to do so. She would rather endure and then spend quality time together than do everything quickly, but as she likes to say, "heartlessly." R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) Lottie is not shy about being critical. She is willing to consider any suggestions you make, but if she thinks they just don't sound right, she is unlikely to agree. You have often complained about this, but if Lottie doesn't want to, she won't do it.

However, if you suggest something really small and do it during the process, rather than beforehand, she may be more willing to agree, seeing something in practice.

"See, Lottie? It's easy and simple, it doesn't hurt me at all." You whisper to your lover, while she carefully watches you drip wax from the special massage candles you begged her to buy you a while ago onto your hand. "And… Do you like it?" she asks uncertainly, looking confused. Lottie can't quite figure out what she thinks about what's going on yet, but the thought of dripping warm wax on you like you're something holy and precious twists her lower stomach into knots.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) Because Lottie is so thrifty with you, she can really last a long time, saving her energy every time. She has a long endurance and above average sensitivity, so she really gets a lot of pleasure from spending more than an hour in bed. T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Lottie doesn't own any toys herself - the fear that her parents will somehow find out about them is too strong - but she's always wanted to try something new and she secretly (or not so secretly) wants to try a vibrator on you. U = Unfair (How much they like to tease) Depends on her mood. She can tease for a really long time if she's feeling playful - though she'll usually cut you some slack and get down to business. She just likes to watch you squirm and beg her to move on from foreplay to something more interesting. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) I am of the opinion that Lottie is very reserved in her sounds, wherever she is. Even at the peak of pleasure, she will only moan softly through her own palm. You might think that Lottie is simply shy, but she is actually just not noisy. W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character) It was one of your first times together, and things were already going much better than they had been at first. You were getting to know each other's bodies and actually enjoying each other physically.

Lottie pushed you onto the bed, acting a little unusual. It wasn't gentle, but rather bold and arousing. You looked at her with wide eyes, full of surprise, until she whispered in your ear.

"What's with that look? Mommy's just in a good mood." She said, and then froze. You couldn't help but laugh, both embarrassed that Lottie had suddenly decided to call herself "Mommy." "I…I didn't…I didn't mean it like that, I was just thinking about it, but I didn't…"

You couldn't help but laugh, and Lottie frowned, looking frustrated and angry. She grabbed her clothes and sat on the edge of the bed like a startled fawn. You quickly sit down with Lottie, intending to reassure her.

"Lottie, it's… it's okay, really. It's okay if you've been thinking about it. Thoughts sometimes spill out into speech." You try to sound casual and reassuring, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I haven't felt any worse about you. We can try this if…"

Lottie looks at you with a piercing gaze before becoming embarrassed. "No! You don't have to do this for me. I need to… think. It really was an accident." She justifies herself quietly. The two of you sit together for about ten more minutes before Lottie tries to let go, trust you, and continue.

This is how Charlotte learned she had a mommy kink. X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) What kind of body do you expect to see in a top-notch soccer player? Tall, toned, everything you find beautiful and hot. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Average, if you can call it that. Once or twice a week is enough for her, although sometimes she might get a surge of feelings for you and want to do it again. Or twice. We can't blame a girl for how much she loves you and wants to be around you. Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward) Lottie is the type who feels uplifted and in a better mood after sex. Sharing intimate contact together makes her feel loved, wanted, and fulfilled, which is very important to her. She needs at least a couple of hours of wakefulness before she can sleep, so the two of you shouldn't have sex at night.

[pythonmoth]

Nanami Kento x Reader (gn)

workaholic nanami kento. soulmates au, just a one shot. might add a second part at some point in life.

note: this was my dream, literally. wrote it down in like five minutes bc it was fresh in my head, and now it's a one shot.

First | Next

Nanami's never been against soulmates, really, he's just... old for that. He's always busy with work and, even if he wanted to, he never has the time to look for his soulmate's mark. His is pretty simple, a splash of green with pink across his forearm —if that's the reason why he wears long sleeved shirts, that's his business—, so he only has to briefly look at people's forearms to know if they're his soulmate or not, never spending much time thinking about it.

He likes being on his own, or with his old friends and his family; he's not a hermit at all. Nanami often reads at home or at the public library, where he feels comfortable surrounded by strangers reading in silence, away from the rushed life outside; so imagine his surprise when he's distracted by someone bumping onto the table, cursing quietly as people look up at them. Nanami's eyes shift up, only a little annoyed by the interruption, hearing some mumbled grunts from the rest and then a soft apology. Nanami can't even blink, though, because he's too busy staring at you. 

You look in a hurry, rushing to the front door with a few books in your arms. Nanami will sigh to himself later on and admit he should've thought about it better, because he immediately rushes up, carelessly bookmarking the page as he tries to catch up with you, but you get in a car and drive away before Nanami can even get a good glimpse of your face, his chest aching. The air outside instantly slaps some sense into his brain and knows he can't possibly chase after you. Nanami blinks and rubs his face before going back into the library, feeling awkward and ridiculous.

Sitting back at the table, he just can't focus. And now he feels incredibly awful for his soulmate, whoever it is.

He knows that being someone's soulmate doesn't mean he's forced to be romantically involved with them, but that was the expectation for most people, so, what if you already had someone else? What if he did talk to you, and he found his soulmate after that? What if you both found your soulmate and he was left with whatever feelings are now filling his chest?

He gets up and sets the book back, forcing his mind to be blank as he drives home, not even caring to turn on the radio as usual. Nanami can't help but feel embarrassed of himself, getting so into it when he doesn't even know you. 

Maybe he should listen to Satoru —that is a new low for him—, and actually go out someday. And he will.

Really.

One day, when he has the time.

For now, his days go by as always.

Nanami works, and works, and works, and reads and eats, and works. He keeps looking for you at the library because he knows you will have to return the books at some point, but you don't show up during the first week.

And the second week, you don't come back.

Not for the third week.

Nor the fourth.

By the end of the month, Nanami's silently given up, mostly because he can't remember what you look like anymore. He tries to remember your embarrassed expression, the tone of your voice when you apologized, which books you got, or even what your hair looked like, but nothing comes to him. So, Nanami has accepted that he might not even recognize you if you ever come back. It's not like—

"Excuse me, is there's another copy of the book you're reading?" a voice asks quietly to his side, soft enough not to disturb the rest of the people at the table.

Nanami's skin tingles as the timber of your voice registers in his mind. He looks up and stares. He feels in a daze, as if drunk, too distracted paying attention to the shape of your nose, your eyes and the way your lips curl up in a soft smile, to realize your expression changes from shyness to embarrassment. He watches you rub the back of your neck. 

"Sorry", you say, giving him a flustered nod and taking a step back.

Nanami reacts before he realizes what he's doing, once again not thinking, and reaches out to gently grip your forearm in an attempt to stop you, standing up to look you in the eye. His heart pounds so hard he can hear the blood rushing to his ears.

"There's no other copy", Nanami manages, his tone quiet, closing the book with a hand and placing it in yours. "You can take it. I've read it before, so it's fine".

You look at him with surprise, something making your eyes twinkle, and Nanami doesn't understand but he can't look away. He can't question it because he's staring, again. Your hair smells like coconut, and there's something shiny on your lips —is it lip balm? is it his imagination or does it smell like watermelon?—, and your eyes are so glassy he can see himself in them. 

"Oh. Thank you", you mumble, your gaze shifting to his eyes and then down at the book in your hands, seemingly not caring for the hand gripping onto you.

Nanami's too busy drinking in your presence, thinking he must have run out of luck for the rest of his life if he got to see you again, that he doesn't realize your eyes are fixated on his covered forearms for a few moments.

He finally blinks when he sees your lips moving, catching the word a little late, barely breathing as he looks at you.

Nanami thinks of it as a win when you chuckle soundlessly.

"That's my name", you say quietly, looking amused, and holding out your hand for him. Only then does Nanami realize he's still gripping your forearm and lets go, his embarrassment cut off short when he sees your smile.

"Nanami Kento", he introduces himself, shaking your hand.

You both stand there in silence for a few moments, and then you let out a soft chuckle, making some people look up from their books. Nanami couldn't care less about them, his eyes completely fixed on you. He's very aware that neither of you have let go.

"Nanami, what are you doing tonight?"

this was fun. it's been sitting in my drafts since I came back to tumblr so! im not planning on making a full fic on it, maybe just another part to show you how they're doing.

i love nanami

that's all, thanks ♡

little taglist of the people that were interested: @an-ever-angry-bi @ssssssws-world @a-hidden-gem ty♡

♡

if you're new to my blog and you like CoD Simon "Ghost" Riley, I've got two fics you might like:

Traitor series

Never Gonna Be Alone

[pineapplehazard]

Imagine

Canon divergence where Buck and Eddie didn't become friends after the grenade

Instead of the 'you can have my back anyday' dialog, one of them try to compliment the other but end up saying some that deeply vexes the other and then they're back on their rivalry

Still at work they manage to work together perfectly well, but they're definitely not becoming friends anytime soon (so do they think)

So they continue with small snarky comments here and there, they kind avoid each other during calm times at the station, but never to a point where it's really uncomfortable for the rest of the team, it's just a little awkward rivalry between them

Somehow they still do things to help the other : Buck still is the one that brought Eddie and Chris back after the earthquake, and he also sends Carla in Eddie's direction (just less directly), Eddie helps Maddie move...

They don't even admit to themselves that they care a little about the other (like Buck totally getting why the girls at the cowboy bar would want Eddie's number) (like Eddie being more bothered by Taylor Kelly when she talks to Buck than to the others)...

When they're dosed they get pretty friendly and cuddly, they might even say some stuff to each other... But they awkwardly do as if nothing happened on the following shift

On Halloween, Buck leaves Abby officially

Then Buck, Actually happens

Eddie gets worried for Buck during the Lola/Norman intervention and get angry at him afterwards for being too reckless (like trying to negotiate with an armed woman not knowing if you will help or anger her more)

The Thomas and Mitchell emergency happens, and Buck comes to certain realisations about himself (bi bi bi) that he thinks about all day

Then he goes to the bar with Chimney and Maddie and while they're singing he receives a drink 🥁🥁 from Eddie! (who was supposed to meet friends from the academy) (the drink is a peace offering?)

Then they weirdly flirt over beating each other at pool or darts or something "wanna go for the title?" card is thrown

Maddie and Chim join them but end up both leaving when Chim offers to drive Maddie home > the boys are in the middle of a very competitive match at that point, Chim is worried leaving them alone might lead to a murder not-so-mystery

They continue playing and drinking and Idk how they get there exactly but they end up making out in the bar's bathroom (and then Eddie's house) (Chris is at Pepa's)

They wake up being all awkward saying stuff like 'this won't happen again right ahah?' and then Buck is about to leave and suddenly they're making out again

So this become a regular thing, while at work they get a little friendlier. The rivalry is still there but there's no bite to their little comments anymore

Now Eddie tries to get Christopher into his new school and needs to contact Shannon. They do not get back together (Eddie doesn't know what to do with his attraction to Buck and men yet, but he's not about to be snooping around with TWO people) but they do start seeing each other more often

Buck thinks Shannon and Eddie are back together, he doesn't initiate anything more than friendly with Eddie anymore (still he can't resist when Eddie initiate it)

Seeing as he's not sleeping with her but actually talking, it's easier for Eddie to trust Shannon again to be part of Chris life (but since the school transfer happened later than in the show, maybe the reunion still happen at Christmas)

Buck and Eddie still take Chris to see Santa, and after the 'you two have an adorable son' Buck feels guilty about liking the idea, he feels like it's not his place, especially now that Shannon is back

Shannon, Eddie and Chris do more family outing after Christmas (it's a little soon to leave Chris alone with Shannon yet so, step by step) and now Buck feels like he need to step away completely from Eddie and Chris's lives.

Around the same time, Doug happens.

Which means that with the emotional turmoil this brought, Eddie is not surprised that Buck is more distant, he just thinks Buck needs time to be focused on Maddie and Chim for now

Then 911 going down and the bank heist go approximately the same, just things are awkward between Buck and Eddie

They do end up talking, and clearing the miscommunication around Shannon (they decide to still keep their situationship (it's a full relationship at that point they're just too dense to see it) a secret at work until Eddie finishes his probationary year at least)

maybe after that Buck even get invited to a family activity with Shannon Chris and Eddie (that's when, seeing Buck doing something cute with Chris, Eddie realizes he's falling in love with that guy) (Shannon realizes that too and she's teases Eddie about it afterwards) (that's when they realize they never got divorced) (Shannon actually help Eddie with being okay with his sexuality)

Then Shannon dies. And it kills Eddie a little too. Buck stays by his side at every step. He helps put Christopher in bed, he helps planning the funeral, he gets Shannon's stuff out of her apartment... He doesn't know if he should come to the funeral, if Eddie wants him there, but of course he does (Chris too really need the support)

He doesn't go to the family dinner the next day though, and doesn't see Helena and Ramon try to make them come back to Texas. He doesn't see Eddie being reprimanded for bringing a stranger in such an important moment for Christopher. Ramon is enough of an asshole to imply maybe buck was there because Shannon was sleeping with him (in a derogatory way)

The serial bombings start. Eddie voices his concerns about Chris' school getting targeted after they receive the school bag call, but Buck tries to reassure him with facts about serial killers and patterns and he starts to info dump on serial killers and oh wow Eddie's in love with him.

Then boom the firetruck explodes, Buck almost dies and Eddie holds his hand through all of it.

Buck survives and Eddie tells him he loves him and Buck thinks it's only because he almost died.

Eddie offers Buck to move in with them at least until he recovers, since the house in adapted for Chris already

Buck refuses at first, then he talks to Maddie and tells her everything about Eddie, she advise communication with Eddie (about the I love you thing because that's what's blocking buck really)

They communicate (🎉) and Eddie makes a beautiful love declaration to Buck and Buck tries to do a beautiful declaration back, but he's crying and on meds so it's a bit wonky but Eddie loves it anyway

Eddie's ceremony happens, Eddie tries to make sure his parents and Buck exchange as little as possible (actually he tries to make sure his parents talk to anyone from the team the least amount he can) and after the ceremony they start moving Buck's things to Eddie's house

[zorilleerrant]

I have a theory about this. I don't know if this was planned (it could've been; TD:R was made by people who are very into the little details, and it was cut short so we might not have gotten all of it), but I think it's a continuation of the car obsession. And Tim can't have a car obsession anymore, because it's a kind of abnormal and specific obsession right now that would need to inform a lot more of his character. It was pretty normal when he was designed, but the public interest shifted, and now he can't like cars that much.

But. We still have a lot of earlier stories where he's working on cars with the rest of the Batfam, and those are good memories. And a normal thing to do - for the really strange kind of car obsessives that still get to be obsessed with cars - is to take either a completely non-working car with a good body, or a car that kind of works but is falling apart, and fix it piecemeal until it looks and sounds perfect and does everything a car should, and some extra things that everyone asks 'why did you do that tho'.

What Tim does get to maintain over time is that he needs a project. At all times he needs something complicated and detailed to try to massage into workable shape. Something with a lot of moving parts. And one of those kinds of things is a houseboat hideout! Tim has really complicated long-term plans and they've pretty much always been for other people, and that's some of why so many of them don't really work out, or work out but don't give him the kind of relief or whatever he's looking for.

So, on the metaphorical level, he's picking up the pieces of his life and trying to figure out what he wants to build out of them. To build a project for himself for a change. But on the practical level he needs something to take up his time and give him small things to fixate on when he needs a distraction or a break from all the important world-ending stuff he might be fucking around with at any given moment. There might also be something there about being able to give Bern tasks to focus on while he's out doing dangerous things. But there's a lot of times when Tim needs to not worry, or not think about something, or just have a problem he knows how to solve. And boy does a shitty boat provide a lot of that.

So good news! Tim hates the boat too! That's why he's going to take it apart and build it back up bolt by bolt.

I have a controversial take I can't stand the fucking houseboat.

Like is it comedic sure but motherfucker, you are a millionaire at least and you choose to live in a stupid ass fucking boat some rich people don't deserve money and his name is Tim Drake.

Like Bruce lives in a fucking manor and here's Tim i'm gonna be gay in my boat like buy a yacht and go the fuck home. 

I just can't. I just fucking can't.

I genuinely can't actually explain why I hate the boat so much but I really fucking hate that boat like I hate that boat almost as much as I hate like the Joker.

Like if I had a gun and there were two bullets, I would find a way to sink that fucking boat and the joker would get to live. I would pull a Batman sorry Jason you're murderer gets to live because I need to kill your brother's fucking boat. 

Like it's the same logic of Dick having that shitty blud Haven apartment.

Like you fuckers are Nepo babies stop trying to pretend you're poor.

I did not mean to go on a rant, but this bothers me like I don't know why but why do I feel like Tim Drake would be that kid to go that's my dad's money as if you don't benefit from it. You piece of shit.

Oh my God, I'm gonna become a Tim Drake anti if I ever have to see that fucking boat again I swear to God.

* I figured out why I went on this rant I had to pay bills today. Like if I had $1 million I wouldn't be on a fucking boat.

[letmedixonyou]

i'm not yours - part 14

summary: the page from your journal after what Daryl did mere hours ago.

words: 323 - short, concise ending

A/N: And with this part, we are finishing the "i'm not yours" and I am so, so grateful for all the people that liked, commented and reblogged my work! Sending hugs and kisses to all of you, especially the ones who've been here since the beginning! Love you, muffins!

I want to announce that there will be sequel to "i'm not yours"! Soon, muffins, soon... keep an eye out 🖤😉

Read previous part here!

From Y/N journal

How the hell did I end up here?

All those months of denying my feelings. Trying so hard to make myself not feel even the tiniest bit of love towards him, and now he gets a tiny bit tipsy and decides to kiss me like it's nothing?! Like what we've been through as friends didn't matter anymore, and this whole friendship is a joke to him? Am I a joke to him?

What the fuck, Daryl?! Why?

I can't deny, I thought about kissing him tonight too. His blue eyes watching me so intently and his lips so fucking kissable, but I'd never actually act on it. I've been doing so well at pretending I don't have any feelings for him. What now? What am I supposed to do now? Just go about my life and forget about it? Should I talk to him? He wouldn't open the doors… Not when he's in the state he is.

He walked off from me, so quickly, I wasn't able to squeeze a word out of my mouth. His face told me he wasn't sure why he did it, either. I wanted to tell him that it was okay, even if it wasn't. I wanted to tell him that it doesn't matter; it's just a kiss, it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't have to mean anything. We were both under the influence. Things like that happen, right?

Is it possible he

No, no, no, do not even think like that. This begs for another heartbreak. I cannot take another heartbreak.

This is so confusing…

You told me I'd never be yours. You told me it won't happen. And I accepted it. I held my head high and made sure that I was okay with being your friend again, Daryl. Clearly, something changed. What changed?!

I'm never going to be yours. I'm not yours… I'm not yours… I'm not yours…

Am I yours?

[diminuel]

The youngest baby goes off to their adult full time life, months go by and nobody has ever seen Dragon so mopey. Doesn’t wanna get out of bed. Everyone is kind of sick of his shit like Sabo is trying to talk to him about military strategy and Dragon will not stop whimpering about how quiet everything is now he can’t work anymore without children yelling in the background, etc, how he can’t get through the year, etc.

…but then everything changes when a little green haired baby gets dropped off with him! The cycle continues!

…Croc didn’t even get one year of Dragon to himself.

Poor Crocodile, he just wants to enjoy the freedom of not having kids barge into every attempt of a romantic moment or crash through a reinforced bedroom door to interrupt...! Also poor Dragon, he got so used to having children around, he can't thrive in an empty nest anymore...! (Not that it's entirely empty since Sabo's still around.)

I've drawn something like that before which you can check out here! (And here!) It's not said whose kid the baby is, but you can imagine dark green hair if you'd like ;3

[kenyummy]

꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ conspiracies ✰ jaime reyes ꒱

✰ SYNPOSIS : jaime just really wants you to think he's cool. in both forms. too bad you're a raging conspiracy theorist.

inspired by this post so thank you for making my mind spiral insert heart emoji. i love xolo (as everyone who knows me both online and irl knows) and i love jaime so this was just a treat

also this is highkey movie jaime coded but yj him works too tbh

!!! LIVA DNI !!!

It was a regular Monday morning when you first met Blue Beetle.

Your life was as normal as could be, and you were perfectly content living your life out like this. Growing up fine. Leaving school fine. Entering college and trying to find a real, lasting job fine.

Today was a regular old day in your regular old life. Nothing special, really. Just on your way to work at your local coffee shop—mostly to pay off your crippling student loans—in an admittedly nice (and safe) neighbourhood.

Which is why you weren't expecting this. In such a dramatic fashion—a random in a ski-mask comes by and tugs your tote bag off your shoulder, and starts running. The tote bag with your expensive ass phone, and those authentically beautiful earrings you'd gotten as a gift for your 18th inside—so of course you take running in your scuffed and ragged sneakers.

"Wh—hey! Come back here!" You yell out as people on the sidewalk rush to the side from the random pushing their way through. They may be covered by a good ten layers—but by god were they fast. No way you could catch up to them.

But you'd be damned if you didn't try. Too bad you didn't join track in high school—you have a feeling it really would've helped right now.

You consider yelling out that you have a barista's salary and you doubt there'd be much of worth inside, but you're stopped before you do.

The random thief in question is not on the ground anymore. In fact—he's three feet up in the air and dangling upside down, screaming. The ski mask falls off and you see it's actually one of your regulars in your shop.

Your eyes widen, then narrow into a hard glare "Dan?! What the hell, man?!" His eyes look anywhere but at you. He knows he's never going to get his double-caffeinated espresso ever again.

But then, you look at exactly what is holding him from that unfortunate angle. A superhero... you think. Black and blue suit—tendril-like things behind him, one holding up your thief. Blasters underneath his feet that seem to allow him to levitate so high. Pure white eyes and no mouth in sight.

"Why don't you give the lady back her bag, huh?" His voice—while it's partially distorted, he seems rather giddy. Maybe he's a new hero. You were sure as hell Batman wouldn't be running around here.

The bag drops to the ground as soon as he says it, and you rush to collect your things. People around crowd in awe at the heroic act, but all you can think about is how grateful you are that you hadn't lost your phone. Thank god for Block Blast.

You look up—Dan falls to the ground with a grunt while the hero lands gracefully on his feet, hands on his hips—you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off him. He looks to you. "Are you alright, ahem—ma'am?"

Did he just make his voice deeper?

You nod, and spare him a smile. "Yes, thanks to you. I can't tell you how grateful I am that I won't be late for work now."

The hero seems rather confused, "Wait, what—"

"Thank you!" You call out as you take off, running. You had fifteen minutes until your shift started and no way you'd miss it and in turn miss an hour of pay. The hero seems to try and call out to you—but the crowd around him doesn't let him move an inch—and it's like clockwork when a camera and microphone get shoved in his face like he's nothing but a trashy celebrity.

"And, Blue Beetle—how is it that you came to this civilian's aid so fast?"

"I guess I just have a sixth-sense for saving people in need."

You grab the television remote and switch the TV off before you roll your eyes back into your skull. Jaime—your friend and currently the only person at the stand with you—seems less than pleased you did so.

"Hey! What's with you?"

You make a face. "Sixth-sense for saving people? Seriously? Even you have to admit, it's pretty stupid."

"Didn't you say that you were the one he saved this morning? And that's why you weren't late for your shift?"

Resting your elbows on the glass stand, you call for your lazy-ass co-worker (currently on his phone in the back) to take over the cash register when a customer comes in.

You continue to talk away with Jaime, who's shining a glass. "Just because I'm thankful he saved me doesn't mean he's exempt from my well-deserved critique. He sounds like a less-inspiring Superman right now."

Jaime laughs, muttering something under his breath before turning back up to look at you. "That's just mean, chica. I think he's pretty cool, no?"

He places the glass on the table near the blender—while you huff indignantly, leaning backwards. "You've always been like this with superheroes, and so have I. Some things will never change, Jaime. Just like the fact we're both in crippling debt at this dead-end job."

"But... you don't even think he is a little cool... at all? I mean—the costume's pretty sick." He stands over you, arms crossed and smiling.

You pause, thinking. "... Alright, fine. Yeah, the costume looks cool. But I think his head's too big for his body. ...Hey, he kinda reminds me of you."

"... You don't say?"

"I do say," you affirm, smiling at his scoff. "Time to get back to the shop, Reyes. You can uplift any bugs you want after our shift is done."

You press your finger to his nose and move him back, bouncing out of the back room as he watches your retreating figure—deep in thought.

You thought that would be the end of it. Maybe, in a few months or so—you'd get into trouble and a hero would come and save you like in the movies. Maybe even in a few weeks or so. Depending on how unlucky you were.

Well, it seems Lady Luck has a hate boner for you, because this was just getting ridiculous.

On Tuesday, all your stuff was thrown high into a tree and only a being with flight could reach it. The day after that, somebody was about to trip in front of your bus—saved at the nick of time by a blue hero.

Thursday, you were almost hit by a bus this time—swerving on the road like it were drunken, only for the two parts of a now disconnected bus to fall beside you, and a beetle in front of you with a smile.

On the last day of a regular school week—you nearly tripped with several large coffees on your tray—and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why your shirt was not littered with stains and why you still had a job. You don't even know where he came from.

Saturday, a pipe broke and boiling water was about to spray you in the middle of the street. Before it even touched you, a holographic blue shield formed around you and saved you from the embarrassment of a see-through shirt.

On Sunday—you were sick of this. An hour into your shift—somebody rushes in with a bat and shatters the glass casing of your displayed pasteries, stuffing them all into their mouth (how did they even do that...?) and taking off.

Before you could even react—or anyone could, for that matter—Blue Beetle was already there, in the doorframe with a tut and a shaking head. You almost lose your mind as a crowd surrounds him with a tied-up thief beside his feet.

You practically collapse when you get back home, in your dingy little apartment. You lay down like a starfish on your bed and think back to everything that had happened to you the past week.

Robbery. Sabotage (you think). Near-death experiences, twice. Plain and simple clumsiness. Probably sabotage again. And more robbery.

This was very not normal. You've come to this conclusion. Whatever supernatural entity wanted you gone was very aggressive about it. You couldn't possibly imagine what you did to piss somebody off this bad.

Maybe they just didn't like your caramel frappuccino. (You don't think it met health standards, anyway).

But what's even more abnormal than that—Blue Beetle is just always there. Every single time. Without fail—as soon as a problem arises, he just ever so conveniently shows up and saves the day like a true hero.

You practically groan into your pillow.

It's like you haven't had one normal day since he showed up. Since he first saved you. It doesn't help that Jaime insists he's a totally awesome hero just doing his job—saving civilians.

No... he's not just saving you... he's practically always there. A hero can be good. But never that good. He doesn't have super speed, nor (from what you can tell) a literal sense for danger (as you watched a building collapse on him on live TV).

There's no tangible way for him to be constantly saving you, in all different areas of the city, in no particular order.

Unless...

You enter your workplace, determined. This Monday morning you found yourself being mugged in an alleyway you didn't even know existed until today.

Take a wild guess who showed up as the gun pressed to your temple.

You discard your tote and shrug off your coat with snowflakes dribbled all over. You can't believe it had just started snowing today of all day—perhaps the universe sensed your imminent realisation and decided to try and hinder you.

Too bad, the universe could take its pity dick out of your mouth—because you didn't need it.

Today you and Jaime didn't have an overlapping shift together. His finished as soon as yours' started, actually—watching him slip on a thick jacket and greet you with a smile. "Hey, [name], what's—"

You stomp towards him—looking very mildly threatening in your green apron. You point at him, digging your nail into his chest. "You. me. Back of the shop. Now."

His eyes widen as you grab his collar and practically drag him through the cooking areas—co-workers laughing as they holler, "Jaime's gonna get some!"

Yeah, he's getting some alright.

Some conspiracy theories.

You practically shove him into a wall when you kick the back door shut.

"Jaime—I've known you since high school. Didn't really like you then—but we ended up in the same course at the same college and now we're bonded for life. You're my dude, my bro, my hermano—that's why I'm telling you this." You speak, deadly seriously. You're staring up at him with murder in your eyes.

"... Wait, you didn't like me in high school?" He deflates.

"Not important. What is important is that I need to tell you this—because I feel like I'm going crazy." You grab onto his shoulders and glare into his eyes. "I think Blue Beetle is stalking me."

A few seconds. Almost nervous silence. You don't break a sweat, but Jaime seems to be perspiring like he'd just run a marathon—eyes looking anywhere but at you. "... Why do you think so...?"

"Every single time I'm in trouble, he's always there in the blink of an eye! I mean—it's more than saving me, it's every single time. This week has literally been the worst week of my life, and he's always there. The minute somebody takes something from the cafe on my shift—boom, he's in the doorframe before I can blink. Bus about to ram straight into me? He slices that motherfucker in half."

Jaime sweats even more now. "He probably does that with everyone."

"But he doesn't! Yesterday I saw somebody robbing a convenience store in broad daylight—and the police were already there before he even showed up! And you know how long the police like to take their sweet time." You shake his shoulders back and forth. "Jaime, I swear to god—I'm not crazy. He is freaking stalking me. I don't know why, or what for, but—"

An uncomfortable laugh escapes his lips as he pushes you back, lightly, so you're not practically squishing your nose against his. "[name], I'm pretty sure you're overthinking this. That's crazy—I mean, Blue Beetle is a superhero, why would he stalk—"

"I don't know!" You practically explode before he can finish, pacing back and forth with your chin cradled and your eyes narrowed into a glare at the ground. "Maybe he thinks I'm his Lois Lane or something—maybe that's how Superman got the girl and this newbie thinks he can replicate that with me. Argh! Maybe he thinks I'm going to become a villain?! Maybe he's from the future where I already am a villain, and my first step to villainy was getting mugged in an alleyway! You can never tell with these time travellers."

Jaime steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, sighing deeply—as if he's conflicted on saying something, "Look, [name]... I think... you've gotten the wrong idea. I didn't want to tell you this, but—"

Something dings. Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket and you gasp. "Shit! My shift is starting! I'll catch you up on my theory if anything else happens—tell me whatever it is later!"

You run back into the shop like your life depends on it—and Jaime's left standing there in the snow, dejected and thoroughly disenchanted.

Tuesday morning. Everything really hurts.

The sun shines directly into your eyes the moment you awake, and have to reel back from the heavenly brightness. You have no shift today—which means, as far as you're concerned, you're free to go do whatever you'd like.

You decide to stay in bed as long as possible.

Wrapped up in cosy white sheets and limps sprawled and messy over your frame—it takes only a few hours for you to get tired of laying around and get up to actually do something.

You rummage through your closet. Yesterday was your hair-wash day, so you'd be damned if you didn't go out and show off your fresh hair. Maybe you should go and see Jaime and his family. It's been a while since you had some of his abuela's cooking.

Yeah. That'd be nice. No trouble, no weird situations, and certainly no superheroes. Just you, your friend, and his sweet family.

You pick out a cute coat and even cuter flared leggings—grabbing your phone and mints (you never know) and your keys. You walk out the door with your head held high and hope in your bones.

You should've known better. Lady Luck wasn't about to let you run around without being completely miserable—no way. Maybe this time was your fault—dividing away from the main street and going through a shortcut that was devoid of people and rather thick with heavy snow.

It was you and your uggs against the world—stomping through heavy white and snuggling closer into your scarf as snowflakes flutter into your freshly washed hair. Dammit.

Humming a little song to yourself—you don't let this get you down. You're too excited to eat some really good authentic food. No way you're going to be a Debby Downer in their lovely home!

There's a shift in the roof in front of you. It creaks a little—and you instinctively look up. Your eyes widen in panic, and your feet are so buried in the snow you can hardly move—a large pile of white fluff that would be enough to bury you alive is about to do exactly that.

It tumbles, starts to fall and you're about to accept the status of a human snowwoman—when a figure dives in front of you and a blue bubble forms around your figure.

You open your eyes, cracking the lids and peering ever so slightly. It's not cold. It's not even fluffy. You don't feel anything different—but you do see a sheepish blue and black figure, all too familiar, trapped within this same bubble.

You could see red right now. "Are you... Are you serious?!"

You expect him to jolt back, to be surprised—but he doesn't visibly seem to be. He stands there, hand behind the back of his neck and eyes focused on the snow that falls over his bubble like it were miles more interesting than you.

You barely notice it, however—as you finally decide to confront him about your little theory. "Are you stalking me?!"

Blue Beetle gasps. You've even shocked yourself a little bit. You didn't expect to be so blunt about it—but whatever gets the job done.

"Wh—stalking you?! Are you serious?! Why would I... stalk you...?" His tone starts to grow suspiciously more like a question as he nears the end of his quip—you narrow your eyes even further and press your finger accusingly into his chest plate.

"You literally show up every single time I'm in the mildest situations of danger! The moment I trip, the moment my things are stuck—the moment a freakin' bus is about to ram into me, you're always there! Are you just following me around, waiting for the next thing to happen?"

"I thought youd be more grateful! I'm saving you from danger, aren't I?" He sasses. You sneer.

"Of course I'm grateful, but tripping and falling with coffee in my hand isn't really dangerous, in my books." You cross your arms, staring up at him and his pure white eyes. "Now, if you don't have a good explanation for this, I swear on my life I will—"

You don't really have a threat on what you can do to an actual superhero—so you're kind of glad (hidden underneath all the initial shock) that he does something that steals the voice from your throat.

With one swoop—his mask is ripped off his face—a head of curly hair spills out from underneath and a face is revealed to be one you recognise so vividly.

You step back a little, eyes and mouth wide open, "... Jaime? You're the Blue Beetle...? What the hell... when did this even happen...? Why are you a freaking superhero now?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'll answer everything later, I promise. I just..." He averts his gaze, lips pressed tightly together. "I... I wasn't stalking you, chica. I... I just didn't want anything to happen to you, so... I just happened to go around your usual routes while patrolling the city."

For a moment, you pause—and all the embarrassment hits you at once, like a freight train. You ranted to Blue Beetle about... Blue Beetle stalking you. What a life. But you don't let it show, you can't let him know your weakness right now. You're supposed to be the accusatory one here.

"So... you were stalking me, Reyes?" You lift a brow. "And you did come barging into my shop and lifted me into your arms before I could trip and lose my job."

That particular moment seems to make him flush and he turns his head to the side, "I... I just... you know..." Trailing off, it falls quiet.

A few moments of awkward silence make him speak up again. "I... wanted you to think I was... cool... and I didn't want you to lose your job... cause then that'd mean I wouldn't see you every day... and I'd really gotten used to it, you know? I swear. That was it."

You could almost laugh in his face. But you're a really good friend, so you don't. "... You know, that's such a you thing to do, Jaime. Idiot. I can't believe you let me think I had a super-powered creep following me around." A smile crawls onto your face, and it's almost so infectious it latches onto him.

His lips turn upwards, "Come on... don't embarrass me, chica. Is it wrong for a guy to want a girl to think both he and his alter-ego are cool?"

"You can't have 'em all." You shake your head, then turn around to look at the snow piled over the force field. "How are we gonna get out? I was heading over to your house, to start with."

"Ah... seriously?" He seems starstruck and almost dopey—but shakes his head quickly and reaches his hand out. The mask reconstructs over his face just as he grins, pearly white peeking out. "Come on, hermosa."

A few seconds later—you're being carried in his arms as he bursts out of the snow—hovering in the sky as you cling on for dear life. "Ho... Holyyyy shit! How do you do this?!"

Everything is so small under you, and you feel motion sick just looking at the top of snowy buildings. He laughs like he finds your fright amusing. "Don't worry, you're not going anywhere."

You pause, eyes focused on your hands for a second,d before you look up at him and his pure white eyes. "... Yeah I know. You did take care of me for a whole week... even if I didn't know it was you. I... never got to thank you for that, did I?"

His tone is light—amused, "Yeah. You were too busy ranting to me about your conspiracy theory."

Your cheeks burn and you slap his arm—knowing he probably didn't even feel it. "Shut up. I was right, wasn't I? Anyways, I'll thank you now. For the whole week.

You lean up and press a chaste kiss to his masked cheek—face feeling hot beneath your touch and you squeeze your eyes closed like you can't bear to look at him. "Thank you... thank you for being there, even if I didn't want you to."

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. Then, he speaks—shakily. "... Y... Yeah. Of course. A... Anything for you."

You smile, softly, "Good. Then how about we go back to your house and I can finally eat some of your abuela's cooking, then?"

"Sounds like a plan, hermosa." He grips you tighter in his hold. "And after that... I could fly you home...?" His voice trails off, expecting you to answer his half-question.

You laugh a little and nod, smiling. Arms wrapped around his shoulder tighter when you speak, "If that's the only thing you wanna do, Reyes."

Another moment of silence. Then, he hisses, seemingly flustered and angry, "Khaji—shut up!"

You give him a confused look, but he quickly speaks, "No—no, that's... I'm talking to my scarab..." Another confused glance. "I'll explain it all to you later, I promise."

"Whatever you say, beetle. Now hurry up."

He blasts off to your command and you bury your face in his chest as you rip through the snowy clouds.

Perhaps your co-workers were right, and Jaime really did get some that day.

[marticoresims]

My Rotational Gameplay System

Hi! There's a video on my channel about how I play rotationally, but some info there is outdated. I figured a post can always be edited, so it's a better way to share how I play The Sims 2.

What is rotational gameplay?

Playing rotationally means that you play multiple households for the same number of days, jumping from one to the other in rounds. This way, you keep the households even, have story progression in all of them, and then you can make them interact, intertwine and merge into new families, not leaving any playable Sim behind.

If you play two-three households and leave the rest unplayed, that's also rotational gameplay. There's no right or wrong way to play The Sims 2!

Setting up the neighborhood

First of all, stealth hoods. I don't want all the same Sims appearing in my family bin over and over, so I made the stealth hoods empty. This tutorial shows how to do it, but it's actually more simple than that – just go into those folders and delete all files in 'Characters'. DO NOT do it in the Documents directory!

Second, I think of which subhoods make sense for this neighborhood. I hardly ever add Downtown. Vacation destinations depend on what I need, I usually add one during gameplay if I'm planning a vacation (which is rare). I like to have one, max two university hoods, especially if they include pre-made Sims. And Bluewater Village is completely redundant, but I sometimes make my own shopping district as an extra area. For example, in my Pleasantview 2.0 I made "Goth Square" that is kind of like a downtown district with apartment buildings, restaurants, clubs etc.

Sometimes I'll tinker with seasons, e.g. Strangetown seems like warm climate, so I might turn off winter in it. Riverblossom Hills must stay default, though.

Basics and keeping track

One round is 4 days for most of my neighborhoods. Some people do it by days of the week or seasons in-game, but I can't be bothered synchronizing my neighborhood after someone moves out and it's again a summer Monday for them. If it's Thursday in the middle of winter in another household at the same time, I really don't mind.

I'm an old school gal when it comes to taking notes to keep track of played days. I have a paper notebook with the grid pattern and mark rounds as squares – each line is one day. I have a whole list of families named by last names mostly, but if a last name repeats (which is often), I either sign them with one of the Sims' first name or their last name + initials. For example, in Riverblossom Hills I have families named Roth (for the "main" Roth family still living in the original house) and Roth LF (Roth – Larch & Fiona).

These days, I use erasable pens in my notes, so no crossing out if a family merges with another or changes its name. For marking days, I still like to use a simple pencil. For side notes (such as planning someone's career or matchmaking) I either use sticky notes or draw a special square and use the erasable pens again to take easily erasable notes. If there's no space on the page anymore, I move onto another. I always keep the old pages, though! I have them pinned in the back of the notebook. Also, I only use notebooks that have tabs of different colors and each neighborhood has its color. Blue for Pleasantview, green for Strangetown, purple for Veronaville, orange for Riverblossom Hills etc. I like to match pen colors to it as well. Yes, I do have ideasthaesia.

For more "serious" neighborhoods I have an additional document on my PC in table form where I plan out the storytelling. I pretty much only have it for my Youtube let's play neighborhoods like Townieville. Fun fact: I have two separate notebooks for "work neighborhoods" and "private neighborhoods". The work one is in smaller format 😂

Here's a fragment of my Townieville notes (the Bendett-LeTourneau family takes too much space when spelled out lol):

As for aging, I made my own custom lifespan that mimics real life years (1 day = 1 year). However, I only age up Sims at "1 day away" (aka the orthodox way) when they're babies and teenagers. Babies because I want them to be 1 year old as toddlers (only Nopke somehow figured out a way to make the baby stage actually 1 day), and teenagers to give them time to attend college. In all the other stages, I wait until the last minute for them to age up on their own. I would never remember to age them up manually or throw parties, also the 1 extra day would make it difficult for me to count their age. That results in the elder stage starting at "57 days old", but I count it as 60 years old. I like to know how old my Sims are for context, that's all.

Population

My limit for one neighborhood is 16 families. If there's more, one round takes forever and I lose interest. In my old Pleasantview, I finally managed to lower the number of families from 24 to 18 and still going. It feels great! So, as you see, I can't do an uberhood/megahood.

To stop my neighborhood from expanding too much, I simply don't make too many kids. I have pretty strict rules that are based on aspirations: Family+Family is 3 kids, Family+Other is 2 kids, Other+Other is 1 kid. If both Sims have family as a secondary aspiration (and I remember that they do), I'll make them have two. It has been working pretty well, but I'm open to changes in the future. Sometimes I would even impregnate a Sim with InSimenator instead of naturally to make sure it's not twins.

I mark every birth on a certain day as a dot and letter (B/G – boy/girl) and plan newborns in advance to have babies be born at a similar time and with balanced genders, so I can match them later. Of course I do have same-sex couples and big-age-difference couples as well. It all comes out when the babies get older, but synchronizing births creates a solid basis. Usually there are no more than 4 kids born in one round.

I love townies, but I avoid bringing them into the neighborhood as much as I can (it expands the population). If two playables are not related and have the potential to be together, I'll tinker with their chemistry to make it happen. I have this mod to help me avoid marrying second-cousins, even if it's not really that big a deal in real life. I do follow chemistry very much in matchmaking though, so if there's any decision to be made between two Sims, I'll always go for the one with the higher chemistry (sort by chemistry and choose the one that appears first – even if the bolts are the same, they are sorted by points).

Wants & Fears

I like to say that I play half-wants-based. I especially like to use wants to avoid having only wealthy families. How? Only if they roll a want of getting a skill point, I'll prioritize career skill points and let them get promoted. Otherwise, they might stay at the same level for years and do other things instead such as hobbies. Even if their lifetime want is the top of a career – the Sims are responsible for progressing in their careers. I don't lock the skill wants either, only the promotion ones if a promotion is guaranteed. But keep in mind that I use mods for no friends needed for careers and less often promotions (I changed it to 85%). That way, some Sims struggle financially, some just have enough to pay the bills, some accumulate money very slowly, and some become rich fast. It's true that it's fortune Sims that usually reach the top of their careers, knowledge Sims are second place, but isn't that actually realistic? If a Sim's lifetime want is anything other than a career, I realize they won't get everyday wants regarding that LTW (unless it's a knowledge Sim with "Max out 7 skills"), so I will push them towards it, but still, not every Sim completes their lifetime want. Also, I use 50 New LTWs and Slower LTA Gain.

I do like to listen to what my Sims want to do, but if the want is ridiculous (like wanting to get married to 3 Sims at once for Romance Sims on dates), I'll ignore it. I only use wants or lack thereof for more variety and less decision-making. I use a lot of mods that change wants as well, such as Fewer Hobby Wants.

Decisions

Deciding makes me anxious. I want gameplay to be fun and the Sims to be their own people. That's why I have certain rules for choosing aspirations and careers. Here's my entire calculator that saves me in choosing careers. For aspirations, I only use the calculator sometimes if I'm not sure, but usually I look at the Sim's personality and can easily see their aspiration based on traits. Obviously I make exceptions to that rule, I WILL have a grouchy Family Sim from time to time. But I do that only if I feel a certain vibe, so no decision is needed either, I just know this Sim will be the exception. Sometimes, I make exceptions to also differentiate Sims from their parents, as personality is genetic for the most part, so it's likely for two Knowledge Sims to “produce” another Knowledge Sim and I'd like to avoid repetition. Especially with Family Sims, as with my population system it might lead to one family dominating the neighborhood. Family+Family having 3 kids and all of them with the Family aspiration? Not on my watch!

In families of more than one child, how do I decide who moves out and who stays home as an adult? If there are no other factors influencing it, the youngest child stays because the older ones moving out will create the space for the next generation. But it varies based on what housing situation the potential partner has. Oh, yeah, I don't play with elders only, that's boring.

How do I decide who changes their name at marriage? These days, I like to keep the OG last names, so if there's a townie marrying into a pre-made family, I'll keep the pre-made family's name. Gender doesn't matter. If it's two pre-mades getting married, I decide based on how many other Sims there are with that last name (do the Sims have siblings?). It's real tactical work sometimes. If I want to keep both, a hyphenated name is always an option too.

Random events

Not a lot of random events happen in my game. Mostly it's just Sims cheating. I have ACR's risky woohoo set to zero most of the time. I do have some mods that make Sims' lives more risky like more dangerous fires (this version is edited to work with the fire safety skill) or death by childbirth. But if someone dies untimely, they die. Especially if they've already had kids (which sounds cruel lol, but my gameplay is based on legacy and genetic continuity).

University

One round is 4 days, that means 4 years, so I guess it would make sense to play the "empty nest" once the offspring is in college. But I don't do that. College is frozen time. In my game, the teenager stage is 9 days – from 13 to 22. It would be too short if I treated university as passing time, as 22 is when US college students graduate. So, I mark a dot with the letter C whenever someone is "1 day away" and ready for college. It's often for the future more than the past, as I like to send a few Sims at once (you know, the babies marked 22 days earlier), so I plan ahead and need to know how many days left. I also send them to college according to their age (even if I don't have to do that with frozen time, it's fun to do), so if there's 2 years difference between Sims, one of them will be a Freshman when the other one is already a Sophomore. Also, not everyone goes to college! It's wants-based, again. If the teen has the want to go to college the very last morning of their teen stage, they go immediately. And again, exceptions. Sometimes I'll lock in the college want because I just can't imagine that Sim not going to college. I have the No Memory Uneducated mod to stop Sims who didn't want to go to college from crying about it. My university gameplay is the most strictly wants-based, to avoid having all Sims graduate with honors. Don't have a want to gain skill points, but fears academic probation? We're doing bare minimum. That kinda thing. The only want I lock in is "Make Dean's List" because it's pretty rare, and without it I was ending up with 3.2 GPA for every single Sim. This want means we're doing everything to get the highest grade possible.

Supernatural Sims

I'm not a fan of supernatural in The Sims (unless it's Planet Alades). The only occult I absolutely LOVE is ALIEN. I will have aliens in nearly every neighborhood. No Multi PT mod needed. PlantSims are cool too, but only in neighborhoods where they appear from the start. Very rarely do I let my Sims become werewolves, or especially vampires and zombies. If a Sim doesn't age, I don't see a point in playing them. Best regards to all the 'aging off' Simmers out there 😆

That's all! Now I can stop rambling about it in my let's plays and just send you guys to this post if you have questions. Phew!

[tanadrin]

I see the points people are making that “addiction” is maybe not the ideal model to discuss this, but I also am very sympathetic to the idea that some people have problems with compulsive porn/masturbation to the point that it’s detrimental for them. I’d never claim there’s a chemical dependency as in, eg, smoking or cocaine use or something.

We need a simple word for “habit that has negative effects on my life, but which I don’t seem to have the self-control to eliminate”. Calling it addiction was/is supposed to encourage efforts to help people stop, but all it’s seemed to do is spawn the growth of weird evangelical 12-step programs for being horny.

I want to be horny, if anything, I’d like to be much *more* horny, that’s why I’m trying to quit watching porn.

for reference (and why this is on anon) I’ve probably jerked off 1-3 times a day, every day, for like 10 years, this isn’t a case of catholic guilt over mild sexual behavior. I have a very hard time staying aroused, I have a hard time even getting aroused, and I have a hard time finishing without fairly intense stimulation. If I take 1-2 weeks off of porn (challenge level, nearly impossible) I see improvements in these areas.

Several years ago, I made it almost 6 weeks, and by the end of it, I was firing on all cylinders like I was 19 again. Sadly, it apparently wasn’t the sole issue. I went to the club, picked up a woman, I got hard when we were dancing, I got hard when we were making out outside the bar, but when we were in my car and she put her hand on me, my guy was nowhere to be found. She went home by herself, I went home and was so horny I was able to get 110% hard and jerk off purely from my mind. Idk where that energy was when it counted, sadly.

Weirdly, taking a break from orgasming but continuing to watch porn often actually makes it worse. I tried edging for 8-10 days once, and by the end of it, I could barely get hard for my favorite types of video.

I’m in my late 20s now, and I know some things slow down, but I thought I was still a bit young for this type of thing. The problem is that I just can’t stop scrolling porn on twitreddit. When I’m bored, porn, when I’m lonely, porn, when I’m anxious, porn (and I’m anxious a lot).

A few months ago, I made it a week, and I was buzzing and confident, but then I backslid and went back to my old habits. It was nice while it lasted, I’d deeply missed feeling that little twitch of arousal from a random thought or from flirting with a pretty stranger. I feel neutered these days, there’s no hunger anymore.

I don’t think I’m anti-sex, really. I’ve only felt guilt from casual or relationship sex a couple of times, and my guilt from masturbation has more to do with frustration that I know it’s bad for me than with some idea of moral inferiority.

sorry if this is insane.

I really just want to stop watching porn so I can try to start dating or sleeping with people again, not much point when I’m 97% afraid my cock won’t work. It might not medically be an addiction, but for me it’s definitely a self-destructive habit.

sounds like a bunch of different things going on here. for one habituating yourself to a very specific kind of stimulus can make it hard to get off in other ways--one approach that seems to work for some people who are in a similar boat (especially men who are used to jerking off with a firm grip) is to vary how you masturbate, use different kinds of stimulus, and learn to come in other ways. masturbation provides a very close feedback loop between stimulus and response, in a way that is always going to be very different from partnered sex--most people who masturbate regularly can make them come much more quickly that way, even if they find, in absolute terms, sex with a partner to be much more pleasurable.

(an important component in re-habituating yourself like that is not to fall back on the technique that works when you get frustrated and can't come, which is why it can be difficult for some people to manage)

separately from this, having trouble maintaining an erection with a new partner is also a thing lots of men report, regardless of how much porn they look at--sometimes you get nervous! it's easy to get nervous with a new partner! this is why god invented oral sex and fingering. that kind of picking-up-a-stranger-at-a-club casual sex works well for some people, but it sure doesn't work for everybody. and because arousal and erections are heavily dependent on state of mind, being nervous about being able to get an erection can, unfortunately, make it harder to get and maintain an erection. so there's a feedback loop there that can be pretty hard to break.

thirdly, if the only filler in your life is porn--if you spend a lot of time bored or anxious with nothing to fill those gaps other than porn--it sounds like a big problem here might just be boredom or anxiety, fundamentally. i don't know you, so i'm speculating, but maybe you need hobbies, or more of a social life, or are having issues with low-grade depression that getting out of the house more would help with. and if you're fixated on porn as the cause of these issues rather than just a symptom, you're also going to be struggling with the self-esteem hit of falling back into the habit of looking at porn, which is happening because, well, you're bored and anxious and you have nothing else that helps you deal with that feeling.

[wlwsoccerfics]

The ACL Chaos Continues(KerstinCasparijXRuthBrownXJillRoordXCasparijReader)

A/N: this Is Part two of 'The ACL Chaos Roommates' so read the first Part before this one.

Warnings: mental health issues, ACL injury, angsty

Summary: your healing Journey continues and so does the chaos.

Jill was off the crutches. So were you. It has been two months since surgery. But you still needed a cane sometimes to get around. And your pain was still a 6 sometimes even a 7 out of 10. But you kept pushing yourself even though you knew this was probably only gonna make things worse. Your fiancee, your twin and Ruth sure saw you struggling and they became quite worried with how you were handling things.

You were standing on the back porch, trying to walk without the cane while trying to get your leg to stay straight and it just wasn't working how you wanted it to work so you became more and more frustrated. Kerstin saw you from inside and walked out.

"y/n! Stop! What are you doing?! You are clearly exhausted! And overworking yourself doesn't gonna make this better!" Your twin sister told you. Her tone was a mix of worry and anger.

You looked at her before you started yelling and crying. Hugging her.

"i hate this! I know i said i would be patient but Physio said he isn't sure i will get back to my old self! What If i can't Play anymore?!" You cried into her shoulder while she wrapped her arms around you. Holding you close.

"it will be okay! Whatever happens you are smart, you will figure something out! And you are not alone, ever!" Your twin told you. You didn't see her face but you could hear in her voice that she was close to crying.

Unknown to both you and Kerstin, Jill & Ruth were watching you from the inside. Eyes filled with concern.

"this looks serious." Jill whispered out.

"i agree. whatever it is, we all have eachother! And we will support y/n! I just hope that Kerstin managed to get through to her. Because honestly your fiancee is not doing herself any favors like that! She is overworking herself constantly!" Ruth said.

"i noticed that as well, whenever i try to talk to her about it she keeps telling me how fine she is and that i imagine things!" Jill admitted.

Back to you and Kerstin...

"Luister alsjeblieft naar wat de dokter zei." (please listen to what the doctor said) Your sister spoke up.

"Ik probeer het. Maar dit is mijn leven." ( i am trying. but this is my life. ) You explained why it wasn't so easy to let things go and give them time. You were afraid your career might be over.

"Jezelf nog meer pijn doen, maakt het niet beter!" ( hurting yourself even more won't make things better! ) Kerstin answered.

You two talked for a little bit longer before walking inside. Both Jill & Ruth staring at you.

"Wat is er, lieverd?" ( what's wrong, darling? ) Jill asked.

"zag je mij een inzinking hebben?" ( you saw me having a breakdown? ) You asked your wife.

"we both did!" She told you and was referring to Ruth as well. You sighed softly taking a step towards hery grabbing her hand gently.

"let's sit down! I can't stand for that long without a cane." You admitted.

"which is Part of the Problem. Right?" Ruth asked. You nodded your head. All of you sat down on the Couch.

"Physio says he isn't sure i will be able to play like i used to before this injury. I am afraid my career might be over." You admitted, tears streaming down your face again. Ruth and Jill both felt like someone was punching the Air out of their lungs. They didn't expect this information to leave your mouth.

"liefje, it's still early on. Give it time! Even if you can't Play as strong as you do now, it doesn't mean you fully have to stop playing. Let's Focus on the healing process now. And worry later. I know things aren't going great for you but if they don't tell you that you can't Play anymore let's not go to career ending right now. Might take you longer to get back on the pitch, but you will get there!" Jill told you. Wrapping her arms around you. you cuddled into her side. It was clear to you, Ruth and Kerstin that the speech was not only for you but really to make sense of this for herself and well and build everyone back up.

"Jill is right, be patient with yourself! Be kind to yourself! You will get back onto the pitch. Even if you can just give 50% of how you played before this injury you still are world class! You are one of the best Players in the world, y/n! So don't give up on yourself! Cause the three of us sure won't ever give up on you!" Kerstin replied.

"we are here to support your healing Journey!" Ruth let you know. Offering you a kind smile. You thanked the three of them. Trying to stay focused on the good things. You knew they were right. You had to be more kind to yourself. And see what was about to come your way. Give yourself time. The Pitch will be there when you are ready.

You look at your fiancee ,a few minutes later you spoke up.

"i am thankful your journey is going better then mine Babe. I genuinely mean that. i hope you are right with what you say about my Journey but If you aren't...i know we talked about kids in the future...and i would be willing to carry one for us." You stated.

"that's sweet Babe! But let's wait okay? Focus on healing. You will get there!" Jill said.

Turned out that you indeed just needed more time but five months later you managed to do some running without pain, working on other skills as well. It was 7 months after you got hurt now. You weren't on the end of your healing journey but you were doing so great now and everyone was proud of you. Jill was doing even better , you were proud of her.

The two of you moved back into your place 3 months ago. Planning your Wedding, which was gonna be in exactly a year from now on. You had pushed it back cause of your Injury.

Even though your journey was difficult you appreciated everyone that was there for you and you liked being there for their journeys whatever those might be. You wanted to help people and not just receive help.

[reidcutensshotch]

Skin S.R

Summary, Garica helps Spencer see there’s more than JJ he didn’t realize how much you cared for him because he’s been shutting everything out besides the future with him an JJ it was hard for him to see you even though you been there for him too .

Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Content: comfort/hurt

Content warnings: heartache , pinning for Spencer at the wrong time or is it at the wrong time , hurt comfort reader try’s to pull away vulnerability, unspoken truths , 

Word count 1k

Author notes: first fic on this account please be gentle please thank you . This song hits different for me . It fits him too .

Dividers : @saradika-graphics & @enchanthings-a

I wish you knew that even you . Can't get under my skin If I don't let you in.

Spencer sat at his desk, a pile of case files scattered across the surface. His mind, however, was not on the case. His thoughts lingered on her—the constant ache in his chest whenever JJ’s name came up. JJ. She was always there, bright and kind, and yet, Spencer couldn't seem to let go of the idea of being with her.

He knew, deep down, that he should move on. But it was hard. It always was with JJ. She had this way of being everything he needed, and at the same time, someone just out of reach. He had tried. He tried to convince himself that maybe there was a chance, that somehow, she'd see him the way he saw her. But he always came back to this: a cycle of hope, disappointment, and self-doubt.

Maybe it was the quiet comfort of her presence, the way JJ was there when the world seemed too much. And maybe that’s what kept him stuck. He couldn't help it, could he?

“Spence?” A voice broke through his thoughts. It was Garcia, walking into the bullpen with her usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, Garcia.” He forced a smile, trying to mask the heaviness he felt. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but he also knew Garcia could read him like a book.

“You’re still daydreaming a life with JJ, aren’t you?” she asked with a soft sigh.

Spencer rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know how to stop.”

I mean she told me she loved me …

Garcia leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. “Spence… you’ve been holding onto this for way too long. I get it, you love her. But sometimes, you’ve got to face the truth. Maybe it’s not meant to be, and that’s okay. You can’t keep living in this dream world where things turn out the way you want them to.”

He stared down at the case file, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was just too afraid to let go.

“Have you ever thought about...maybe...there’s someone else?” Garcia said softly.

Spencer blinked, glancing up at her with furrowed brows. "Someone else?"

Garcia's eyes flickered toward you—sitting at your desk, buried in paperwork but with a subtle softness about you, a quiet understanding that Spencer couldn’t deny.

You had always been there. The quiet, kind person who listened when he needed it most. You didn’t push him to talk, but when you did speak, it always had a way of making him feel seen. And yet, he’d never once allowed himself to see you in that way. Not like that.

Why hadn’t he noticed before? He caught his breath, feeling a strange pang in his chest.

Garcia’s voice brought him back to the present. “You know, not everything has to be so complicated, Spence. Sometimes, we overlook the people who are right in front of us, just because we’re too wrapped up in the idea of what could be. Maybe you should stop looking at what you think you want, and look at what’s really there.”

Spencer swallowed hard, her words lingering in his mind. Had he been so focused on the idea of JJ that he failed to see what was standing right in front of him?

He glanced at you again. This time, his gaze didn’t just linger—it searched for something. And as his eyes studied the way you worked so quietly, so effortlessly, there was a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, you were everything he needed.

But it was a thought he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain until now. How could he have been so blind?

A tight knot formed in his throat. Why didn’t I see it sooner?

You looked up then, your eyes catching his, and there was a softness in your gaze, like you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Spencer quickly looked away, ashamed of himself.

How many times had you been there for him? How many times had you listened? And yet, he never once thought to see you like that.

Garcia’s voice was gentle as she spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You deserve to be happy, Spence. But you can’t keep holding onto someone who doesn’t feel the same way. You deserve someone who sees you, who values you the way you’ve always wanted.”

He nodded, though the words seemed so much harder to grasp than they should have been. Maybe Garcia was right. Maybe he didn’t need JJ. Maybe what he needed was to stop looking so hard at the past and start seeing what was in front of him.

Spencer stood frozen, the words you had said to him swirling in his mind like a storm. He felt an overwhelming guilt, the kind that twisted his chest and made it hard to breathe. You had always been there, quietly supporting him, but he hadn’t been able to see it—he hadn’t been able to see you.

You watched him, your heart aching with the weight of everything left unspoken. The room felt suffocating, and the silence between you both was like a wall you didn’t know how to climb. You knew Spencer had been holding onto the idea of him and JJ for so long, and you understood it. You really did. But what hurt was the realization that, despite all this time, he hadn’t seen you the way you had hoped.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. This isn’t about you, you told yourself. You have to let him go. But it wasn’t easy. Nothing was ever easy when it came to Spencer Reid.

“Spence,” you started, your voice quieter than usual, “I know you’ve been holding onto this idea of you and JJ for a long time. I get it.” You felt the words hit you harder than you expected. The truth stung. “If you’re not ready to move on, I understand. But I’ve been here, in front of you, the whole time.”

You could feel your hands trembling slightly, a quiet sign of the nervousness and pain that was trying to break through. You clenched them together, trying to hold it in.

"Maybe I should take my own advice," you continued, letting out a shaky sigh. "Maybe I need to stop making up illusions in my head about us." You forced yourself to look away, not able to meet his eyes as your heart pounded in your chest. "It’s not healthy," you added, a weak laugh escaping you as you wiped your hand across your face, trying to keep it together.

You took another step back, your throat tight, but you knew this was the only way. “I know I’m not JJ. I know I’m just me.”

Spencer’s chest tightened, his heart beating louder in his ears as he watched you pull away. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, frozen in place, guilt flooding him. He had been so consumed by his feelings for JJ, but now, looking at you—really seeing you—he realized the distance between you two had been of his own making.

But then, as you turned to walk away, he felt a sudden panic grip him. His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and in a moment, he reached out, grabbing your arm gently to stop you from leaving. His touch was tentative, unsure, but there was something desperate in it too. Something that screamed he didn’t want to let you walk away, not without a chance to explain himself.

You froze, your heart racing, and the knot in your chest tightened. This is it, you thought. He’s going to tell me to go.

But when Spencer spoke, his voice was low and filled with a quiet remorse. “Please... don’t walk away.”

His words were almost lost in the heavy silence between you. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but now, standing in front of you, he saw everything he had overlooked—how you’d always been there for him. How he had pushed you away, blind to what was right in front of him. The realization hit him like a freight train.

“I didn’t know how to... I didn’t know how to move on from the idea of JJ,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought if I held onto that, maybe I wouldn’t feel this... this emptiness.” His eyes locked onto yours, his expression vulnerable and raw. “But now I see... I see that I’ve been holding onto the wrong things.”

You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with emotion, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. It was as if time had paused, and everything that had been left unsaid was hanging between you.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely audible but filled with quiet strength. “Spence, I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to see me—really see me.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, Spence. But if you can’t—if you’re not ready—then I have to step back.”

The words felt like they came from somewhere deep inside you, a place you hadn’t wanted to reach. But it was the only way to give him space, to give him the room to make his own decisions.

You took another step back, and Spencer felt something inside him crumble. He could hear the gentle hum of Garcia’s voice from across the room, watching from a distance, but it felt distant—almost irrelevant now. All he could think about was you.

Before you could move further, Spencer spoke again, his voice trembling. “I don’t want you to step back,” he said, more forcefully now, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. “I... I’ve been so focused on the wrong things, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been blind to what’s been right in front of me.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but there was a flicker of hope inside you. Maybe there’s something here. Maybe you had been wrong to think you’d need to give up on him entirely.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you met his gaze, “you don’t have to apologize. I’m just... I’m here. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

His hand reached out slowly, almost uncertain, but this time, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let him take your hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of the uncertainty. Spencer’s eyes were searching yours, his own feelings written plainly on his face. He didn’t know where this was going, but he was willing to find out. For the first time, Spencer felt like he wasn’t running from his own heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, softer now, but with more conviction. “And thank you... for being here.”