#Sterling Household

[tinycoded360]

Sterling Household-Sick Giant

"I'm going to help Sterling." Cassia declared at the table in their tiny kitchen, hidden within the walls of the human’s home.

Milton jerked back in surprise, choking on his tea. “Wh…what do you mean?”

“He’s been sick for the past day. Throwing up and bedridden. I think it would be good for us to help somehow.” Cassia explained. “He already knows about us and has saved Emma and our kids. I think this would be good for our relations.”

“Relations?! There are no relations with a human!” Milton looked shocked and confused.

“It can’t be helped. We have relations with him now. We either make them good, or we move. What if he gets annoyed with us? Hmmm?” Cassia challenged her husband.

Milton sighed. Cassia grinned, knowing she had won.

“See? Relations can’t be helped now. We might as well take advantage of a tame bean.”

“What do we suggest we do?” Milton asked.

***** “This is insane!” Emma grumbled as she helped Cassia gather supplies- a thimble for carrying water, thread for rope, an upturned metal cap for a pot, and other gear that would be useful for their task.

“Well, we don’t want to seem ungrateful; he did help you, after all.” Cassia pointed out.

“I know, I know. But I don’t have to like it.”

“Did you get what I asked for?” Cassia asked her friend.

“Of course! It was easy, I’m a pro at fishing, I know all the best spots.” Emma said with pride. She pulled off her backpack and opened it showing three big fish. Or big fish compared to the borrowers, to a human the fish would be more like small guppies.

“Perfect! Milton’s gonna use those to lure Whiskers out of the way!”

Cassia took a deep breath and stepped out from the walls, exposed on the giant's countertop.

Milton stood at the bottom with their children. He threw a grappling hook to the counter, which Cassia helped latch. Then, they worked together to get their children to climb up. Next, Cassia lowered the fish down.

“Why can’t I stay with Papa? I can help!” Agnes protested with a pout.

“You stay with your mother; I don’t want you near his cat! It’s better if I do this alone. Now you be good for her. She’ll need all the help she can get for this,” Milton shouted up to his family and disgruntled daughter.

Cassia shot her husband a grateful smile. "It'll be alright, dear. We'll look out for each other," she said gently. “Now, you be careful!”

Milton nodded. Leaving to find the giant feline.

"Here, kitty-kitty..." Milton called in a sing-song voice, watching Whiskers' ears perk up from her dozing spot by the hearth. With a flick of her tail, she rose, her movements graceful and silent—a stark contrast to the frantic beating of Milton's heart. Milton had tied the fish together to a string. He broke out in a run, pulling the treat with him.

Leading her through the open back door, Milton danced just beyond her reach, the string pulling a fat, yummy fish, enticing the cat. Whiskers pounced, playful yet deadly. He darted left, then right, his small size an advantage in the game of cat and mouse they played. He spun around as Whiskers took hold of the fish. Whiskers started purring up a storm as she ate the treat. Giving Milton time to move around her and push the door closed, using all his might.

On top of the counter, the borrowers paused to catch their breath, the vast kitchen spreading out before them. Cassia took charge, pointing out the locations of knives, cutting boards, and ingredients.

"We'll need to work together to manage these giant tools," she said. Emma and her children voiced their agreement.

They slowly dragged the knife across the counter to a potato, then worked in unison to slice off chunks of the hearty vegetable. Their tiny arms strained from the effort.

Emma and Cassia worked together to push one of the pots still on the stovetop onto the burner. They then turned on the stove and filled the pot with water, using their buckets. This took a long time, and they only managed to fill it about ¼ of the way.

Soon, aromatic steam rose from their pot as the broth simmered. Cassia gave an approving nod, heart swelling with pride for her family and friends. By working together, they could achieve the impossible.

Emma turned off the giant stove, the dial clicking loudly in the silence of the kitchen. The rich scent of herbs permeated the air as the borrowers peered into the steaming pot.

"It's ready," Emma declared. "Let's fill up our containers and get this to Sterling."

The group worked efficiently, ladling the fragrant broth into thimble-sized buckets. The tiny containers looked almost comical next to the giant pot, but the borrowers knew every drop could aid in Sterling's recovery. Or, at the very least, Sterling would be flattered they went to all this work for him.

The borrowers entered Sterling's room. The giant bed loomed before them, its great expanse of fabric forming rolling hills and valleys from their minuscule perspective.

Cassia secured her rope and began scaling the bedspread, gripping the fibers like climbing holds. Emma followed close behind until they reached the summit.

Carefully, Cassia slid the bucket off her back and gazed at Sterling. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, face flushed with fever. She felt a pang of sympathy for the ailing man.

Cassia looked over the edge of the bed; she sighed in relief to see that her husband Milton had returned. Cassia tugged on the rope, helping Milton haul up the soaked cloth they had prepared. Though thin as gauze to Sterling, it took all their strength to shift the giant fabric.

Soon, the other borrowers joined them on the bed. Together, they took up positions around the cloth and heaved, maneuvering it towards Sterling's head. Their tiny hands strained against the weight, muscles burning with effort.

Finally, they aligned the cloth over Sterling's forehead. The man sighed, his body relaxing subtly as the cool fabric soothed him. The borrowers released their grip, allowing themselves a moment of rest before moving to administer the broth.

Cassia took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she approached Sterling's head, a thimble of broth in hand. She was struck by how vulnerable the human looked in repose, his usually lively features now slackened by fever. Gingerly, she climbed onto his pillow, boots denting the fabric. At this proximity, she was dwarfed by his enormous size, barely the length of his ear. Still, she felt no malice from the gentle man.

Joining Cassia, the other borrowers followed suit, tiny feet padding over Sterling's blanketed form. Their movements were cautious but purposeful as they positioned themselves around the giant's head.

Lila bounced excitedly.

Pippin looked nervous but determined.

Finn was clinging onto his father’s back in a piggyback ride. He was too small to carry the thimbles by himself. But he was happy to watch from the safety of his papa’s back as they fed the giant.

Agnes stood by Emma with her own thimble. She shifted with nervousness. While Sterling had been gentle with her when he had caught her, she was still scared of his massive presence.

Emma nodded at Cassia, signaling they were ready. Cassia tipped the thimble to Sterling's parted lips with great care, letting the broth trickle in. His throat bobbed reflexively. They continued taking turns, administering the medicine thimble by tiny thimbleful.

Suddenly, Sterling stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. The borrowers froze as his gaze found them, crowded on his pillow. Confusion clouded his expression. Then, awareness lit his eyes.

Cassia met his look unflinchingly. To her surprise, his lips curved into a tired smile.

"Wha….What are you doing?" he rasped, voice hoarse and confused.

Sterling's deep voice rumbled around the tiny borrowers gathered on his pillow.

Cassia steadied herself, pushing down her instinctive fear. This was the first time she had revealed herself to a human, but her family owed him a debt for protecting her children.

"We made you broth with medicine and herbs, so you're welcome," she said, her voice clear and strong. "I'm Cassia. My family and I want to help you get well."

Sterling's gaze shifted to her. Though she barely reached the height of his chin, the look in his eyes was one of respect.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cassia," he replied. "I wish I wasn’t sick to meet you. You didn’t have to do this; I don’t want you guys to get sick.”

"You've kept my children from harm. I wanted to say Thank you." She smiled up at him. "Now rest. You need your strength back."

Sterling's eyes crinkled happily. He struggled to keep his eyes open, wanting to drink in the tiny people gathered around him. He tried not to shift too much, noticing how his movements caused the little people to stumble on his pillow to catch their balance. His eyes were alight with awe and affection. He found it cute to see them with their tiny thimbles, trying to nurse him back to health. He ponders on how this must have taken so much of their time. Sterling’s heart fills with a warm feeling at the thought.

Sterling froze when a tiny hand patted him on his cheek. He shifted his gaze and landed on the tiny woman, Cassia. She smiled at him. He could only really see her from the corner of his eye. “You need to rest; we can talk more when you’re better.” Sterling was fixated on the feel of such a tiny, delicate hand resting on his cheekbone. Each finger was so tiny. He could hardly see them, and certainly not at this angle, but he could feel the tiny twitches of the tiny hand.

Sterling’s smile softened, his features relaxing into lines of gentle amusement. "I'm glad you feel safe enough to speak to me." With that, Sterling closed his eyes and let sleep take him. 

Chapter 8

[thepettymachine]

Cressida and Donnie did an autonomous try for baby without me realizing it (ಥ_ಥ)

Sterling Day:

Genius

Star Quality

+ he's a vampire!

[jasminesilk]

It's a teen birthday party! Marshall is annoyed that all his friends are aging up before him.

[maxispremades]

С возрастом Бесс стала чуточку больше походить на серьезную бизнес-леди и чуточку меньше — на разбитную пацанку. Одно осталось неизменным в ее гардеробе — юбкам и платьям она по-прежнему предпочитает брючные костюмы, комбинезоны, рубашки, джи��сы и свитера. Часть из повседневных образов Бесс я оставил без изменений.

Наряды Бесс Стерлинг-Рико:

Спортивный костюм, ночное белье, образ для вечеринок, купальник и сезонные комплекты:

Мне безумно нравится то, как это ожерелье-воротник дополняет собой вечерний наряд Бесс:

[melinsimsland]

Decker invited Molly to come over, of course she went

[simstoyourdismay]

shoutout to mavy for treating all of his siblings (excluding mira) like shit. even his literal twin doesn’t get special treatment

[sleeponmybaby]

faces...

On 21st July 1978 Buzzcocks and Magazine played at the Lesser Free Trade Hall in Manchester….

[angelpregdreams]

"Darlin'."

content: fpreg, vaguely-mentioned pregnancy sex, labor, fpreg birth, 1st person pov a hint of cowboy flavoring, a la croix of the wild west

wc: 2800+

tip jar

“Sloan!” 

A voice called out my name behind me, and I released a sigh as they continued to yell, even as they came closer, “c’mon, woman, just be honest with me!” 

My feet paused their stomping, and I turned in the direction I knew him to be coming from.

“There’s nothing to be honest about!” I shouted back, an annoyed huff leaving me as I crossed my arms over my chest. The action made my nipples sting at the friction and I angrily dropped my arms down. I gave Sterling a glare as he came into view, which he calmly raised his hands up in surrender in response. 

“Fuck, nothing to be honest about?” Sterling muttered, his dark brows raised incredulously. “Are you serious?” 

Shaking my head, I felt tears pool in my eyes at his raised voice, I hated when he spoke down to me. His fucking accent made him sound even more condescending, which only served to infuriate me more. I grumbled unhappily, angry at myself for the tears and for him being annoying, “just leave me alone! You’ve been badgering me for the last five miles, Sterling, it’s getting old.”

He gave me a hard stare, slowly lowering his arms as his eyes flicked over my face - catching my tears. Sterling sighed and beckoned me closer to him. 

“C’mere darling,” his voice was softer now, more like his normal tone with me, it made me choke on a sob, “I know. That’s it, I know about���”

He trailed off and I tensed, my own eyes flicking over his form as I felt my chest heave with a gasp, trying to catch the breath that just left me. My suspicions confirmed with his own speculation. I had to be pregnant, there was no explaining my recent changes other than pregnancy. 

Sterling continued, coming closer to me and finally slipping an arm around my waist, “the baby, Sloan. It’s not exactly something we can ignore…and you know that.” 

I did. Doing our job while I'm pregnant would not be safe, for me or for our little one. More tears fell over my cheeks as I buried my head against his broad chest, crying softly. I didn’t want my life to change but I knew what I had to do. 

He was supportive, as we traveled back home and we made the decision for me to remain on our homestead. His support never waned even when I got angry and sobbed for hours about him having to leave me like this. We would need to continue our work, regardless of my pregnancy, and bounty hunting wasn’t exactly safe for me now.

Once we returned to our homestead, Sterling took our horses to our barn, telling me to go inside, and tend to the house. The bed needed dressing and the fire started. I bit my tongue to keep a retort about sending me inside like a housewife, my eyes rolling nearly out of my head as I stomped towards our small home. He joined me once I finished the bed and began my work on the fire. His quiet footsteps came up behind me, and I gasped when he placed a hand on my back. With the tension between us on the ride here, I wasn’t expecting his touch. 

It was still comforting.

“Sloan…” Sterling started, and I sighed as he continued, “darling-”

I cut him off by turning and planting my lips on his, shutting him up and finding comfort at the same time. We spent the night together in our bed, warmed by a fire, eating our meager food that we had kept while we were away. 

He stayed only for a week, and soon, I was alone. For the foreseeable future, I would be alone and my heart began to feel heavy, soon after Sterling left. Going about my household chores and work on the homestead was easy enough, but I still hated how quiet it was here by myself. My horse was my only company and I spent as much time as I could with her, even taking long detours as we went to and from the only town nearby. Which was its own issue, when I entered the town for the first time. 

Those that knew me by my work with Sterling were kind, but still standoffish, disliking me on the principle. I had gotten used to being looked down upon for my line of work, but it still stung. Maybe it was the change of my brain with a baby growing in my belly, my mother mentioned she forgot nearly everything in her early months and cried every time she did. 

I kept my tears to myself, feeling the sting of loneliness, until I was with my mare, Willow, and we were far, far away from civilization. Sterling and I had no friends here, even after our work for the local sheriff. He was likely to be the kindest to either of us, but I didn’t wish to strain that relationship by overstaying my welcome in town. 

Riding with Willow became harder as I got sicker, then I began to gain a sizable swell around my middle and it inhibited me from even getting in the saddle without some difficulty. The months passed with little excitement. 

I hated it. 

Sterling did make a stop here or there, when his travel brought him close to home every month, give or take a week or two, and showered me with affection and gifts. His hands traveled my new body, mumbling his amazement at the changes every time, and telling me how absolutely divine I was. It was adorable and helped my self-image. I felt heavy and slower than normal. Mentally and physically, I felt slower, the baby taking more and more of myself with every passing day. Sterling didn’t seem to care though, when he was home he waited on me hand and foot. ‘Making up for lost time,’ was what he told me. I would relent and let him, enjoying the attention and his fussing. His tender touch on my swollen belly made my heart flutter for him as it had on our wedding day. 

He was due to leave again tomorrow morning, but for now, he clung to my body as if I would fade away if not held down by him. We laid in bed and listened to the rain hit the metal roof above us. The fire was dim, but not dying, so we lingered comfortably together, dozing in and out of sleep. 

Sterling’s hand strayed over my hip and I smiled, keeping my eyes closed. His touch was intoxicating, and I pressed into his grip, catching his breathy chuckle before his lips pressed against my skin just under my belly button. 

“Perfection,” he mumbled, utterly transfixed. Sterling continued to pepper my belly with kisses, taking a pause only to finish his thought, “perfect and mine.”

My husband devoured me then, his lips and tongue delving between my legs and into my slick heat. His facial hair tickled my thighs and I sighed happily as he showed his devotion, fully lost to every sensation he gave me. Tomorrow Sterling would ride off again, but for now, he was nestled between my legs, one hand on my thigh and the other over where our little one rested in my belly. 

The night passed by too fast. He said his goodbyes, lingering for longer than he should have, not letting me out of his grip until he finally had to leave. He rode off on his own mare, and I stared after them for a time. The baby in me shifted and pressed against my bladder, making me grunt and rub my hand over my belly. 

“Don’t act up because your father’s gone.” I mumbled, returning to bed for a bit more rest. 

Sterling didn’t return the next month. As I continued to grow, crawling closer to my time, worry made me ill - more than once. It wasn’t out of the question for him to be sidetracked or taking more time to travel, but the worry still made me return to the comfort of our bed throughout the day often. 

A lot of the chores fell into disarray, my only constant was making sure Willow was fed and watered. My massive middle made moving difficult, doing anything that wasn’t necessary was asking too much of myself. At one point, I began to wear only my thin cotton nightgown, even while outside, not caring to get dressed if there was nobody around. It also made coming and going from bed easier. 

It was late in the evening when I felt the first contractions. I was waiting for Sterling in the rocking chair he had bought when we moved here when I felt it. My hands rubbed over my middle, taking a deep breath as I realized I was effectively alone for the foreseeable future. Meaning I would have to deliver on my own. 

My throat felt tight, and I struggled to relax my muscles as a few moments passed and the pain disappeared. Tears pooled in my eyes and I cried as my labor started. 

I tried to climb into bed and rest, trying to mentally prepare myself for this. I also couldn’t help but pray for Sterling to return, so I wasn’t alone, but I knew it would prove fruitless. The cross that hung from my neck offered little comfort as I clutched it, breathing in as a pain wrapped its way around my belly. A grunt left me as I rolled over onto my hands and knees, this pain lasting longer than the last few.

“Nughhh.” I moaned, trying to rock myself through the painful gripping of my womb. A weight had slowly begun to move down with this pain and I felt my hips ache as they adjusted for the head of my baby slid down. 

Arching my back, my huge belly rubbing against the bedding as I continued to moan through the pain, rocking and moaning. In the back of my mind, I had some shame acting like this, moving like this, it felt brazen. That thought was pushed away as the pain seemed to peak and I cried out loudly, the weight of a boulder pressing against my pelvis. 

Faintly, I became aware of the patter of rain on our roof, a storm settling in overhead as my labor progressed. 

A split second after I caught the sound of the rain, I felt a huge shift in pressure, my womanhood aching from the inside. I swore in pain, rocking again, as the pressure continued to build. Tears burned my eyes, and I felt my hips strain. There was no relief from the pressure, even as I moved back and forth. The child in me moved and made me gasp, stilling my movements. 

The pain and pressure made my mind hazy, but I was aware of my body rejecting this position, I had to move. 

Slowly, and pausing for several long moments every time I had a pain, I was able to scoot off the edge of the bed, dropping into a deep squat. Fully leaning against the side of the bed as I reached down and tugged my nightgown up and off of my sweating body. I felt hot, everything felt too warm. My womanhood most of all. 

I cried out with another contraction, the squat making the pressure ease some, but the pain remained constant. My vagina hurt, it burned, it felt like the boulder between my legs was stretching my hole apart as slowly as it possibly could. 

The rain outside picked up, the sound of thunder greeting my ears as I dropped my head onto the soft bedding with a cry. The pressure returned and unable to release it, I simply bore down with everything I had in a big push. I screamed loudly in pain. 

A soft sound accompanied the sudden release of pressure, then settling into a deeper ache between my folds. The release of pressure was then followed by the sound of a gush of fluid hitting the wooden floor, and instantly, I knew what happened. 

Unable to help myself, I let out a breathless laugh, the noise turning into a moan as a contraction grew around my tight belly. My hips burned, my pussy starting to bulge and I felt every inch of the child slip closer to entering the world. I cried out, sobbing as the burn in my womanhood spread to my folds. The weight of the child was just as painful, but I was suddenly grateful I moved when I did. There was no way I could even think of moving from this position now.

I pushed again, my body trembling as I strained to urge my child from me. My pussy felt too warm, like someone had held a candle to it, and I couldn’t help the fat tears that rolled over my cheeks and onto the bedding. With a tight grip, I wrapped my hands in the blankets, my knuckles quickly turning white as I pushed once again. 

“Sloan!”

My breath caught in my throat, moan cut midway, as my heart thudded painfully in my ears. That was… “Sterling…” I breathed, my throat sore, but my body quickly reminded me that our child sat at my entrance. I groaned again, barely able to choke out, “...baby…coming…”

“Sloan!” 

I heard him again, but I couldn’t respond again, my body urging me to push. I felt the spread of my folds, the head bulging me outwards painfully. 

The door slammed open, the sound of thunder accompanying the noise, and I heard Sterling’s boots on the floor. 

His hands were on my shoulders, free of his gloves, and rubbed gently. He whispered, “I’m here, dearest, I’m here.” 

I sobbed again, unsure if it was from his sudden support, or from the pain, but it mattered little. I pulled my head up from the bed, groaning as I pushed with a new contraction. The head spread me apart, my folds pulled tight around it as it slowly emerged. 

Behind me, Sterling cooed at me softly and rubbed my shoulders and hips, trying to ground me as I fought with my body with each push. I caught the sound of him shifting several times, his spurs jingling with the slightest bit of movement. It was distracting, if only for a few seconds. 

The head continued to crown, very slowly, as I pushed several more times. I tossed my head back and groaned, the head holding me spread apart as I felt the child wiggle in the birth canal. Gasping, I lifted my head, and grabbed a new fistful of bedding.

“The baby…! Catch…the baby…!” I warned Sterling, feeling the sudden, painful urge to push again. I gritted my teeth and bore down, my squat deepening as far as it could go. I felt Sterling’s hands leave my hips and he obeyed my request as I felt one of his hands brush against my swollen and bulging pussy. He gasped, feeling the head at its widest point in me as I pushed as hard as I could. 

The head slipped out, making me release the push with a gasp. More dribbling of fluid hit the floor and then I heard Sterling’s sharp intake of breath. I felt his fingers prod around my opening, making me pant, but he pressed a kiss to my shoulder, silently telling me to continue.

With the next contraction I pushed, it was only for a split second before I felt the babe wiggle in me again. I screamed loudly, continuing to push as the pain seemed to linger for far longer than before. The baby lurched downward, falling into Sterling’s hands as I continued to push, the rest of the baby falling out of me with a spill of fluid. 

I dropped my head down onto the bed and released the sheets, shakily falling to my knees as Sterling brought the baby to and around to my chest. I lifted myself up and pulled the child close to my chest, weeping when I saw my baby, her own cries sharp and strong. She was perfect.

“We have a girl,” Sterling whispered to me softly, his voice turned watery. “A baby girl.”

I wiped her face, her cries continuing as I felt more tears spill over my cheeks. “Oh, she’s everything.” I said, softly. She was everything. 

Sterling kissed the top of my head, pressing his lips close to my ear and whispering - just for me, “you did amazing, Sloan.”

I leaned against him, wrapping our girl in a blanket and bringing her back as close as possible to me. I couldn’t ask for anything else - my life now felt complete, wrapped in Sterling’s embrace and holding our newborn daughter.

[hatchetation]

the way teenage bounty hunters DESERVED a second season. like what a tightly written, quippy, funny little show with so much heart. there’s so much good going on in it but things I particularly love:

Twin themes!! There’s so much good foreshadowing surrounding the big reveal (iykyk) and there’s also so much DOUBLING. Double lives especially is a big theme. Like, Debbie hiding Dana; sterling and Blair hiding their bounty hunting; the (functional) froyo shop being bowser’s bounty hunting lair; Terrance the lone wolf bounty hunter and bowser with his little “teen white savior” teammates; Yolanda’s sister who is a perfect foil for her; miles hiding Blair from his family; sterling hiding april from Blair…and then april hiding sterling period.

And I guess the doubling is kind of showing like, here are all the possibilities and here’s what happens when we let love in and here’s what happens when we shut it out

so much good stuff about being from the American south. As someone who grew up in the south and who grew up visiting close family in Atlanta…it is cool as fuck the way the south is portrayed in all of its complexity. The show does not shy away from issues of race, religion, SES, etc SPECFICALLY in Atlanta and manages to do it in a way that doesn’t come across as heavy handed. This show could ONLY be set in the south—it would be a fundamentally different show in any other setting

Also, like I said with the doubling points above, this show is full of secrets and secret keeping!!! But yet a fundamental point of the show is that being silenced is one of the worst things that can happen to a human being. There’s a scene where Blair is telling sterling that her dad yelled at her and that the worst part of all is that he told her to Be Quiet! And like in some ways that scene highlights what a loving household Blair has grown up in that the one of the worst things her Dad has ever said to her is be quiet (not even shut up)…but it really made me be like wow being told to stop questioning and be quiet IS something terrible. It’s a denial and a violation of our right to use our voices

and like it’s not a coincidence that in the final ep Dana gags sterling. Because the way sterling is talking to her is powerful and you can tell it is making her hesitate and question her whole life

so yeah anyway watch teenage bounty hunters! Or if you haven’t in a while, it’s definitely worth a rewatch

[tinycoded360]

Sterling Household Chapter 10-Icecream

Author Note: Okay, this isn't the Sterling special I'm working on. I wanted to make another normal chapter to introduce a new character. Her purpose is to create some more drama. I need her for Drama later on, lol.

Sterling Household Chapter 10---Ice cream

The bustling atmosphere of Sterling's workplace engulfed him. He worked at a small publishing company called Frans Publishing Co. Sterling typed away on his computer, filing through emails, corresponding with authors, and reading over manuscript submissions. The company always conducted a yearly writing contest with a prompt theme for their local community. Sterling was part of the team that would read and judge the works submitted.

Sterling was interrupted from his work by a familiar feminine voice.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite coworker," Brynn's playful voice cut through the ambient noise as she sauntered into his workspace, her vibrant red hair cascading over her shoulders. “Got any interesting reads?”

Sterling glanced up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not really; it would be easier if I didn’t have to sift through all of the AI submissions. At this point, I’m a pro at picking those out.” Sterling complained with a roll of his eyes.

Brynn grinned, her green eyes scrunching up as she snickered. “How can you even tell?”

"The flow of the story is off, or the way things are described…. it’s wordy…...too wordy……and not in a good way. It is almost like word vomit. Or some phrases get overused a lot.”

Brynn raised an eyebrow, “Like what phrases?”

“Ah…...like ‘Delve into,’ ‘A tapestry of,’ ‘A treasure trove,’ or a ‘testament to,’ or all the characters have bright, shining, or eyes with a glint to them.” Sterling explained, his hands moving along with his words.

“Aren’t those just common human phrases, like what if an author decides to use words like that?” Brynn asked with a skeptical look on her face.

“Well, sure they can, which makes it sad because some authors might choose to use phrases like these and get flagged as AI. I’m not saying that every work with these phrases and words is AI…...it’s just when reading through these submissions, you pick up patterns. Also, a lot of the stories are the same or too similar. Or……. I don’t know; something feels off about some of them. Like the soul has been sucked out.” Sterling explained with a frown.

“Sounds to me like you need a break from this, wanna grab some lunch?” Brynn asked, leaning into Sterling’s personnal bubble.

Sterling leaned away, feeling a tad uncomfortable. But he was hungry and needed the break. “Sure…... I need a break.”

Sterling and Brynn decided to take their lunch break at a local deli shop. As they settled into a corner table with their choice of sandwiches, Brynn took the chance to pry into Sterling’s life.

"So, I've been dying to know what you've been up to outside of work. Do anything fun?” Brynn asked, one of her hands played with the long strand of her hair. Twisting it around and around her finger.

Sterling felt a flicker of unease, his mind immediately going to the tiny inhabitants of his home. Despite how kind she seemed, he knew he couldn't reveal their existence, even to Brynn.

"Oh, you know, just the usual," he shrugged, trying to keep his tone casual. "Catching up on some reading, binge-watching a few shows. Nothing too exciting."

Brynn studied him for a moment, her gaze seeming to search for something more. "Well, if you ever want to add some excitement to your life, I can show you what I like to do for fun.” She winked at him and rested her hand on his.

Sterling felt a jolt of awareness at her touch, a mixture of confusion and uncertainty swirling within him. In that moment, he knew that Brynn's feelings for him ran deeper than friendship, but he found that he couldn't fully reciprocate. Yes, she was attractive……but something didn’t feel right. Sterling felt a nervous ache in his stomach as he tried to figure out how to let his friend down easy.

Sterling was saved from this awkward conversation by the vibration of his phone. With a relieved glance, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket. His eyebrow arched in curiosity as he recognized the number on the screen—the Borrowfield number.

"New rule: no texting at the table," Brynn declared with mock sternness, though her voice was tinged with annoyance.

"Hmph, how about no?" Sterling Replied, thumbing the message open. It was a simple message of a greeting. He couldn’t tell which of the borrowers were messaging him. Sterling glanced up at Brynn, pointing his pointer finger up in a ‘hold on’ motion.

In the message app on his phone, he quickly responded, ‘Hi there! And Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?’ With a quick tap of his finger, the message was sent. In an act of amusement he had named himself ‘Giant’ in his conversation with the borrower family. And any response from them as ‘Mice’. It had amused him at the time. He wondered if the borrowers had figured out how to nickname contacts and, if so, what they changed his number to.

It didn’t take long for him to get a response.

‘Mice’: Oh this is Lila and Pippin :D

‘Giant’: Hi little ones, what do you need?’

‘Mice’: Nothing Ma, Pa and Emma are out.

‘Giant’: Shouldn’t you be sleeping?’

‘Mice’: Cute image of drawn bear shaking their head no

‘Giant’: Ok…….who’s watching you?

Mice: picture of Icecream

Mice: U get us icecream?

Mice: puppy dog eyes emote

Giant: Theres some in the fridge, I’ll help when I get home.

Sterling was interrupted from replying further by a presence over his shoulder. He had been so engrossed with his text conversation that he hadn’t noticed Brynn getting up and moving. He stiffened as she draped her arms around his neck and glanced over his shoulder at his phone.

“That’s a funny username, who’s mice? Someone special?” She asked playfully but with a hint of jealousy.

He glanced over his shoulder and offered her a quick, enigmatic smile. "It's an inside joke," he replied, shifting his body away from her embrace.

"Must be some story behind that." she pressed.

“Not, really……. the ‘Mice’ are my...... godkids,” Sterling said, keeping his tone casual but guarded. It was as good a cover as any. Better to give them some sort of label than make up an empty lie. And he might as well be the little borrower children’s godfather. He made sure they were safe and well taken care of when their parents couldn’t.

“Oh! You’re a Godfather?” Brynn asked in surprise. “I didn’t know you had any close friends like that.”

Sterling bristled slightly at this. He had friends, not many, but the surprise in Brynn’s voice felt uncalled for. And yes, granted, Cassia and Milton might not have named him ‘Godfather,’ but it was a good cover, especially if he slipped up and mentioned them in passing.

"Yea, my good friends are visiting. I just call the kids……my godkids—little mice because they're so short,” Sterling explained. Glancing at his watch, Sterling got up from his chair. “Looks like lunch breaks up. We should get back.”

***

A few hours later, Sterling glanced up at his wall clock. Only an hour left to work, then he could head home. He looked forward to sharing the frozen treat with the borrower children. He hoped their parents wouldn’t mind. It also bothered him that the adult borrowers where away when the children had texted him, he wondered if it was just a short trip or if they left their kids home alone for long periods of time. He knew he should be careful in judging, they where after all a different species with different culture and expectations. He wondered if he could provide any help in that area. He wouldn’t mind watching the little ones if needed. But also knew the borrower might not fully trust him yet.

“Hey, Sterling," Brynn called, peeking into his office door. “Are you busy?”

Sterling shook his head in the negative. Brynn smiled brightly at him. And walked over to him. He could smell the faint scent of her citrus perfume wafting across the space between them. "You know, I was thinking we could grab dinner after work. There's this new Thai place that opened up around the corner."

Sterling shifted his gaze away from her. "Can't tonight, I've got plans," he said.

"Plans?" The word hung in the air, tinged with a note of disappointment that Sterling couldn't ignore. "Oh! With your friends and ‘godkids’? They could come too; I’d love to meet them.”

"Maybe some other time," Sterling said quickly, the words slipping out before he had time to consider them. "Just not tonight."

"Right. Not tonight." Brynn's voice was flat, resigned. She stepped back, her hands finding her hips as she regarded him with a mixture of challenge and hurt in her green eyes. “But it'd be nice if, one of these days, those plans included me."

"Look, Brynn—" Sterling started but was cut short by the ringing of his phone. Startled, he pulled the device from his pocket, giving Brynn an apologetic look.

"Hello?" Sterling asked into his cell.

"St-St-St... Sterling!" The voice was tiny and rushed, barely audible over the line. It was Agnes, and her tone sent a spike of worry through him. She started to blabber over the phone, her words coming quickly between panicked breaths.

"Agnes? Slow down. What's wrong?" Sterling's brow furrowed as he turned his chair away from Brynn, he felt a flash of annoyance at her not getting the hint and leave.

"It's Pippin and Lila! They—they tried to borrow ice cream, and Pippin got stuck in the fridge! I can't open it!" Agnes's words tumbled out in a panicked stream.

"Stuck? Okay, just calm down. Where are your parents or Emma?" Sterling's voice was calm but firm, trying to instill some sense of control into the chaos.

"They're away for the day. Won't be back until tomorrow," Agnes replied, her voice trembling.

Sterling’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at this news. He felt annoyed that the adult borrowers didn’t share that they’d be away for a long trip. He would have gladly watched over their kids.

"Alright, hang tight, Agnes. I'm on my way." Sterling ended the call, his heart racing. He looked up to find Brynn watching him with concern etched across her face.

"Everything okay? That sounded serious," she said, taking a step closer.

"I have to go," Sterling said hurriedly, already moving toward the back room to grab his jacket. "My godkids need me."

"Can I help?" Brynn offered, trailing after him.

"No, it's—it's fine. I've got it handled," Sterling insisted, avoiding her gaze.

"Okay," she said, though he could hear the annoyance in her voice as he pushed through the back door, leaving the office building and rushing to rescue his tiny friends.

The drive was a blur of red lights and honking horns, Sterling's thoughts ricocheting between worry for the tiny children and frustration at their parents. "They should've told me they were going away," he grumbled. He prayed to God that the tiny child hadn’t been stuck in his freezer for long. He hoped that he would get there in time.

Finally skidding into his driveway, he yanked his car keys out of the ignition, killing the engine, and rushed inside. As he entered his house, he was mindful of his foot placement in case any of the little ones were on the floor. He bolted for the kitchen. His gaze immediately shot upwards, and there they were—Agnes, Finn, and Lila perched atop the fridge like frightened birds, Agnes's face stained with tears as she wielded a popsicle stick, trying to push it between the crack of the freezer door, the other two children trying and failing to add their weight to push the stick down, to leverage the giant door open. But the freezer door was unyielding.

"Agnes!" Sterling's voice was a balm, even as his hands trembled. "Step back, sweetheart."

Agnes looked at him, her tiny body trembling. "Sterling!" Agnes cried, her voice quivering on the edge of tears. "I was supposed to watch them, but Finn needed me, and—I just turned my back for a second..."

"Hey, hey, it's not your fault, okay?” Sterling reassured her quickly. “I’m here now, ok? Now move back.”

Agnes obeyed, her slight form shaking as she retreated with Finn and Lila clutched tightly to her. With one swift motion, Sterling pulled open the freezer door.

The frosty bite of the freezer hit Sterling as he peered inside, his heart thudding against his chest. The tiny figure of Pippin came into view, nestled against an open ice cream container, his minuscule frames shivering in a desperate attempt for warmth.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Sterling whispered, his voice steady despite the panic clawing at his insides. He reached in with gentle fingers and scooped him up, the touch of his cold skin sending a jolt through him.

"St-St-St" Pippin's teeth chattered as he tried to speak, his words lost in shivers.

"Shh, Pippin. You’re alright," Sterling soothed, cradling him close to his heart. He quickly wrapped Pippin in a soft washcloth from his counter, rubbing his back with a single fingertip to generate heat.

Once he was cocooned in warmth, Sterling turned to Agnes, who was still perched atop the fridge with Finn and Lila. "Come here." He told the three children, stretching out his unoccupied hand to them.

"Is he going to be okay?" Agnes's voice trembled as she clutched Finn even tighter.

"He’ll be just fine," Sterling assured her, extending his palm like a landing pad. "Now hop on; let's get you all somewhere warm."

Agnes hesitated for a heartbeat before picking up Finn, who was silent with wide, fearful eyes. She stepped onto Sterling's hand with more grace than she felt. Lila followed, settling down and clutching onto Sterling’s giant thumb.

Sterling’s fingers curled ever so slightly to keep them secure. He brought them close to his chest, shielding them with his body heat as he made his way to the living room.

"Thank you, Sterling," Agnes said, her voice small.

"Of course," he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.

As he carried the four borrower children into the living room, Sterling's thoughts were occupied with the serious future conversation that he would need to have with Milton and Cassia. The adult borrowers needed to trust him and communicate with him. He just wanted to keep them safe. He understood that this level of trust was new, maybe even uncomfortable for them. They were a self-reliant family, accustomed to fending for themselves. But he wanted to help.

Sterling settled onto the couch, cradling the four borrower children against his chest. Pippin was still shivering, his tiny body curled into the warmth of the dishcloth. The other three huddled close. Sterling gently transferred them all onto the dishcloth. He watched as the siblings embraced and cuddled together, sharing warmth.

"Pippin, how are you feeling?" Sterling asked softly, his voice filled with concern. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Pippin looked up at him, his teeth chattering. "J-just really cold. And hungry."

Sterling couldn't help but chuckle. "Hungry, huh? Well, I think we can fix that. How about some warm soup?"

The children perked up at the mention of food. Sterling slowly and gently set the children on the couch cushion.

He got up and grabbed his remote. He turned on the TV and flicked through the channels, settling on a harmless cartoon for the kids to watch.

"How about this," he said. "I'll make us some soup, and then we can all curl up and watch a movie together. Does that sound good?"

The children nodded eagerly, their spirits lifting at the promise of food and comfort.

Sterling stirred the soup, the warm aroma filling the kitchen, but his mind was elsewhere.

Lost in his thoughts, Sterling almost didn't notice when Agnes appeared at his feet. He almost jumped in surprise at the slight touch at his ankle. He glanced down in surprise. He found he didn’t like the tiny borrower on the floor by his feet. She looked ridiculously small and so tiny, standing by his foot. He could have easily stepped on her or kicked her. Sterling carefully crouched down. But even then, she was still so minuscule—truly like a tiny mouse.

Her small face tilted up to meet his gaze. "Sterling?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

“Hold on, sweetheart, can I pick you up? It’d be easier to talk to you.” Sterling asked, his hands twitching with the need to pick her up off the floor.

Agnes looked up at him with wide eyes but gave a shaky nod.

Sterling slowly reached out his hand to her and curled his fingers around her tiny body, like tree branches curling around her slight frame. Sterling easily picked her up, her tiny hands grasping the side of his finger as he held her in a loose fist. He always marveled at how weightless they were; Agnes weighed almost nothing to him.

Sterling stood to his full height and gently placed her on the countertop near the stove. Sterling went back to stirring the soup.

"Please, Sterling, don’t tell my parents," Agnes's voice was faint but insistent. "I'm really sorry about today. I should have been more careful, should have watched them better."

Sterling's heart ached at the guilt in her voice. He gently brushed a finger over her hair, trying to reassure her. "No, Agnes, this isn't your fault. You're just a kid yourself. You shouldn't have been left alone to watch them."

"You think I can’t handle it?” Agnes asked, her bottom lip trembling, her voice on the edge of tears.

Sterling reached out, carefully scooping Agnes into his palm and bringing her close to his heart. "No, not at all," Sterling reassured her. "It's because I care about you guys. And if something like this happens again, I want to be ready to step in sooner."

Agnes looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. She fidgeted with her hands as she looked down at her lap and the lifelines of the giant palm she sat on.

"Agnes," Sterling said gently, his curiosity piqued, "where did your parents and Emma go today?"

Agnes looked up at him, her eyes still glistening with the remnants of tears. "They went to a borrower colony market," she explained, her voice soft but steadier now. "By crow. They said bringing all four of us along would be too much."

Sterling nodded, processing this new information. A market accessed by crow - it sounded like something straight out of a fairy tale. But then again, the very existence of the borrowers had already shattered his understanding of reality. "I see," he murmured, his mind whirling with questions he knew would have to wait for another time.

Glancing at the clock, Sterling realized just how late it had gotten. "Alright, little ones," he said, “Let's get you fed.”

After the borrower children all had their fill, Sterling went about picking out a movie for them. When he went back to the couch to sit on the far end, Lila spoke up with a question.

“Can we have some ice cream first?" Lila asked, "Please, Sterling?"

Sterling couldn't help but stare at her audacity. "No more ice cream tonight," he said sternly, but he softened his tone at the sad, dejected look on her tiny face. “Maybe tomorrow. Also, from now on, you all need to wait until I'm home to help you with things like that, okay? I don't want any more close calls."

All the borrower children nodded their heads in agreement.

"Will you stay with us tonight?" Lila's small voice was hopeful, her wide eyes searching Sterling's face.

"Of course I will." Sterling smiled warmly at them. "I'll even take off work tomorrow to ensure everything's alright here."

Author Note:

 Yes, I looked up common AI phrases. I was curious about what those would be. I remember reading an article about a publishing company or another writing company having a writing contest and how the people reviewing entries noticed many submissions made with AI. It was interesting to read about what patterns they noticed. It's also annoying. Because if you happen to use those overused words or phrases, you might sound like an AI in your writing. Truly, this might be the bad timeline. XD  

[marbledgummi]

Back in 2021, we unexpectedly became parents to two amazing teenagers. Raising them while navigating our own twenties, especially as a queer couple in the South, has been a rollercoaster. To protect our family, we've made the tough decision to move to a new state.

We've worked hard to save, and we were ready to go. The problem is, the final stretch is proving to be the most challenging. Moving expenses are piling up, and a recent car repair has set us back. We’re facing a tight deadline to pay rent, and my car payment is past due/unpaid

We all have jobs at the moment, either set to start soon or in onboarding- but until we get there and start and then wait for 2-3 weeks for a pay period to come, we have no way of paying it and we have to keep food on the table.

anything at all is appreciated. as of updating this post ( 7/16/24 ) we made it to Chicago, and we have a bit of money partially in thanks to the GoFundMe! but rent is $3150, and we have less than a thousand at the moment and still need to get household necessities in the meantime.

Any help at all is huge. I also have scs of where the money is going if anyone wants to check the legitimacy

$ 3,743 / $5,000

Please help if you can, share if you can't

[gvfgal]

How to Fall in Love in Ten Days

*New Series*

18+ series

A/n: Day Four, as promised!! Please don’t be afraid to leave your question, comments, and thoughts in the replies or in my inbox, they make my day more than you’ll ever know! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, and as always, enjoy. 🤍

Content Warnings: hangovers, angst, a *little* sexual tension (it only progresses from here).

Word Count: 3.3k

Day Four: The Ball

"Roslyn, close those curtains at once," Daniel groaned, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to alleviate the pounding headache. "The sun is blinding me."

He was seated at one of the servants' dining tables, while Roslyn stood at the small counter, cracking fresh eggs into a glass. Daniel had sought her out in the early hours of the morning while you were still asleep, pleading for a remedy to his hangover.

"I do not think it is the sun that ails you, Your Grace," she retorted, sounding every bit the stern matron. "It is more likely the result of your carousing until dawn."

She approached him and placed the glass on the table with a firm thud. Daniel glanced up at her, a look of sheepish curiosity in his eyes. "Do you now find me as appalling as she does?"

This was no mere bid for sympathy; he was earnestly seeking an answer. He felt as though he had managed to alienate not only you, but the entire Sterling household.

Sebastian had been markedly displeased with the Duke's night of revelry, his silent disapproval speaking volumes.

"You know I could never find His Grace 'appalling'," Roslyn assured him, her tone softening. "However, I do believe this rift between you and the Duchess might have been averted had you shown a bit more kindness in the beginning."

"And now you fear it is too late to mend what has been broken?"

Roslyn detected the note of despair in his voice and paused to choose her words carefully.

"I do not wish to suggest it is beyond repair," she said thoughtfully. "However..."

Daniel dropped his head into his hands, the silence conveying more than words ever could.

"I am a dreadful man," he muttered.

"All you can do now, Your Grace, is take things one day at a time," she offered, attempting to provide a glimmer of hope. "The truth of the matter is, it cannot worsen from here. But it will not improve without a concerted effort. And I’m sure you do want things to improve?"

This advice, simple yet profound, struck a chord with Daniel. The discord in his marriage was like a chain of falling dominos, and if he wished to halt the cascade, he would need to exert considerable effort.

He nodded. “Yes. I do.”

"Well then," Roslyn prompted, tapping the table near the glass of egg yolks, "drink."

Seated at your vanity, you observed the delicate ministrations of your maids as they commenced the early preparations for the evening's ball. The room was enveloped in an unusual quietude that might have been unsettling had your thoughts not been preoccupied with other matters.

The clock had just struck three in the afternoon, and the entire day had passed without even a glimpse of the Duke. This absence left you in a state of ambivalence, a tangled web of emotions that you found difficult to unravel no matter how long you meditated on it. You could not determine whether his absence brought you a measure of relief or an increased sense of unease.

Your reflection in the mirror appeared distant, as if the image before you was but a ghost of the person you used to be. The maids worked with quiet efficiency, their whispers barely audible, the rustling of fabric and the clinking of jewelry the only sounds to break the pervasive silence. The preparations for the ball, normally a source of excitement and anticipation, felt strangely hollow.

In the back of your mind, you wondered where the Duke might be and what he was doing. His absence was notable, a stark contrast to the duties he usually attended with such fervor. Yet, part of you was grateful not to face him, not to confront the unresolved tension that lingered between you both like an unsaid accusation.

As the maids continued their work, you allowed your thoughts to drift. What would the evening bring? Would the Billngly’s ball offer a reprieve from the discord in your marriage, or would it serve only to highlight the growing distance between you and your husband? These questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unnerving.

The room, though filled with activity, felt empty. The opulence of the vanity, the elegance of your waiting attire, and the dutiful attentions of your maids could not mask the underlying disquiet that had settled in your heart. The preparations continued, but your thoughts remained elsewhere, lost in a labyrinth of uncertainty and longing.

Before long, you were attired and prepared for the evening's festivities. Roslyn had entered midway through the preparations, and now it was just the two of you alone in the room, a solitude that always brought you a sense of ease.

Roslyn made a few final adjustments to your attire, her deft fingers ensuring that every detail was perfect. She then guided you to the large, ornate mirror so that you might behold the culmination of her and the maids efforts.

Your reflection revealed a vision of elegance and grace. You were adorned in a gown of midnight blue silk, the fabric shimmering subtly in the light. The bodice, adorned with delicate lace and tiny, glistening pearls, accentuated your figure while maintaining an air of refined modesty. The sleeves, fashioned from the finest gossamer, billowed softly at your wrists, adding an ethereal touch to your ensemble.

Your hair had been swept up into an intricate chignon, with a few artfully arranged tendrils framing your face. Roslyn had adorned your coiffure with a simple yet elegant diamond hairpin, a testament to her impeccable taste. Around your neck, you wore a necklace of sapphire and diamonds, the stones catching the light and casting a soft, luminous glow upon your décolletage.

As you gazed into the mirror, Roslyn stood behind you, her eyes meeting yours in the reflection. There was a silent understanding between you, a shared recognition of the effort and care that had gone into preparing you for the evening. The stillness of the room, combined with Roslyn's reassuring presence, brought you a moment of tranquility amidst the tumultuous emotions that had plagued you throughout the day.

"You look exquisite, my lady," Roslyn said softly, a note of pride in her voice. She gently smoothed a final crease in your gown before stepping back, allowing you to take in the full effect of your appearance.

For a brief moment, the anticipation of the evening ahead was overshadowed by a quiet satisfaction with your reflection. Yet, as you turned away from the mirror, the questions and uncertainties of your heart crept back in, reminding you that the true challenges of the night were yet to come.

Roslyn could discern the trepidation in your eyes, and it evoked a profound pang of sympathy within her. She was acutely aware of the desolation that had settled between you and the Duke, and she knew that venturing into society and maintaining appearances would be an arduous task under such circumstances. Yet, her purpose was not to amplify your anxieties.

“I have heard that Lord and Lady Billingly host quite the ball. I believe you shall find some enjoyment there, with or without His Grace’s presence,” she remarked, her tone infused with a gentle reassurance.

You offered her a smile, appreciating her attempt to assuage your worries. Despite your inner disdain for such social gatherings, you decided to indulge her optimism, hoping it might spark a glimmer of genuine hope within you.

“I should hope so,” you replied softly.

Roslyn escorted you from the room, and as you descended the grand staircase, your gaze fell upon Daniel, waiting below. His pacing ceased the moment your presence was revealed, and he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours.

The Duke was impeccably dressed in a tailored coat of deep midnight blue velvet, adorned with intricate silver embroidery that mirrored the delicate lace on your gown. His waistcoat, of the same rich fabric, was complemented by a crisp white shirt with a high, starched collar and a meticulously tied cravat. The ensemble was clearly chosen to harmonize with your attire, a silent acknowledgment of your shared role despite the discord between you.

However, even his polished appearance could not conceal the remnants of his earlier revelries. The faint dark circles beneath his eyes and the slight pallor of his complexion betrayed the restlessness and indulgence of the previous night. Nevertheless, he had made an effort to present himself with dignity and poise, a gesture that did not go unnoticed.

As you descended the grand staircase, Roslyn offered a reassuring squeeze of your hand before stepping back. Daniel extended his arm towards you, his expression a blend of determination and weariness.

It was an unexpected gesture, one that made you hesitate. Yet, with Roslyn and Sebastian observing you, and the Duke appearing almost desperate, you linked your arm with his, allowing him to escort you out of the front door and into the waiting carriage.

This was the first occasion since your wedding night that you were alone together, and the solitude unnerved you. All the attendants, including Sebastian, traveled in the carriage behind, leaving you with a little over an hour’s journey in a stifling silence.

The first half hour passed in oppressive quietude. Daniel seemed to still be recovering from his nocturnal excesses, while you forced your eyes to watch the sunset over the rolling landscape, avoiding looking back even once.

Gradually, you felt his gaze lingering upon you. You sensed every movement of his eyes as they took in your attire from head to toe, resting upon your face with an unwavering intensity.

Despite the intensity, he seemed unaware of how keenly you felt his gaze, but you dared not move, afraid it would break the spell.

You did not want him to look away.

Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “You look exceedingly beautiful. This shade of blue truly becomes you.”

His words caused your breath to catch, but you masked it with a discreet cough.

You glanced at him briefly, but the power of his stare was overwhelming, and you quickly diverted your eyes to your own dress.

“Thank you, Your Grace. You look… well yourself. The color suits you admirably as well.”

His face was on the verge of a smile, but he settled for a nod.

He simpered. “Perhaps we should have Roslyn incorporate more of this hue into our wardrobes, then?”

You wanted to smile at his lighthearted response, but were unsure if he was merely being courteous to maintain appearances at the forthcoming ball.

Nevertheless, it indeed felt good to have a respite from the animosity.

You turned your gaze back out the window, and Daniel, seemingly satisfied with the small but impactful interaction, reclined in his seat, appearing more relaxed and a shade more sober.

All eyes turned towards you as soon as you arrived at the Billingly estate. As the guests of honor, your entrance was eagerly anticipated by all who were in attendance.

You and Daniel, much like the previous day in the Duchy, managed to project an image of matrimonial bliss with remarkable ease. Tonight, it felt slightly more natural, the practiced motions of a devoted couple coming almost effortlessly.

You moved gracefully through the gathering, greeting each person with poise, your hand firmly resting on Daniel’s arm. Daniel had once again adopted his charming demeanor, effortlessly captivating the women in the room with little more than a smile and a few courteous words.

Observing the admiration in the women's eyes, you couldn’t help but understand their allure. Despite his hangover, Daniel did indeed look strikingly handsome, and for a fleeting moment, you felt a glimmer of the fortune that supposedly accompanied the title of Duchess of Sterling.

Daniel led you to the center of the dance floor, where the six-string ensemble ceased their current melody and began a new tune, specially selected for your first dance.

Had all gone according to plan, you and Daniel would have had a dance lesson earlier in the day to prepare for this moment. But strife had interfered, and now you found yourself feeling like a lamb to the slaughter.

Your nerves began to fray, and Daniel instantly noticed.

“Do not worry,” he whispered as the music swelled around you. “Just follow me. I lead, you follow.”

You nodded subtly, willing your feet to move in time with Daniel’s steps and the rhythm of the music.

As Daniel took the lead, you found his guidance surprisingly steady. The familiar steps of the waltz, though unpracticed, began to flow. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the firm yet gentle grip of his fingers on yours lent you both confidence and fluster. His eyes, intent and focused, never left yours, creating an intimate bubble amidst the grand hall's opulence. It was almost a suffocating, how intimate it was.

The ballroom's chandeliers cast a golden glow, the light reflecting off your sapphire gown and Daniel's navy tailcoat, enhancing the visual harmony you both presented. The room faded away as you concentrated on the dance, your earlier fears slowly dissipating with each step.

Daniel’s movements were assured and precise, guiding you effortlessly across the floor. The music enveloped you both, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the discord between you had vanished, replaced by a rare unity.

As the dance continued, you began to relax, your steps becoming more fluid, your movements more in sync with Daniel’s. The whispers and admiring glances of the guests faded into the background, and it was as though you and Daniel were the only two people in the room.

As the final notes of the waltz lingered in the air, Daniel twirled you gracefully one last time before drawing you close. The dance concluded with a flourish, and the guests erupted into applause. Breathless and slightly dizzy, you clung to Daniel for support, your heart pounding from the exertion and the unexpected closeness that your body seemed to take delight in.

For a moment, Daniel’s eyes softened, and a small, genuine smile touched his lips. The applause and the admiration of the guests seemed to validate the performance you had just given. It was a fleeting glimpse of what might have been, a reminder of the potential that may still be hidden beneath the surface of your strained relationship.

After the dance concluded, you and Daniel were quickly engulfed by the crowd, and you were reminded why you loathed such gatherings. The incessant questions about your recent marriage and future plans felt relentless, but to your surprise, you and Daniel navigated the inquiries with remarkable ease. He would answer some, you others, and though you hadn’t discussed any of it due to your ongoing strife, you both went along with each other’s responses as if they were gospel truth.

However, the constant attention soon wearied you. When the throng of guests inevitably separated you and Daniel, you found yourself even more exposed and under pressure. The women of society, with their endless chatter and insatiable curiosity, overwhelmed you. Having spent much of your formative years in seclusion, you were ill-prepared for this lifestyle, and your discomfort was growing.

You stumbled over your words, and as the questions about the Duke grew more probing, your responses became less convincing. Your nerves began to crack the facade you had so carefully constructed. Fortunately, the women were too engrossed in their own gossip to notice your growing unease. When their conversation finally shifted away from you and your marriage, you seized the opportunity to excuse yourself, craving the solace of fresh air.

You wandered out to the garden, relieved to find it devoid of other partygoers. You strolled aimlessly until you discovered a bench positioned before a rose hedge sculpture of two swans. The cool evening air was a welcome relief, and you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply before opening them to gaze at the sculpture.

Tilting your head, you couldn’t help but think the entire arrangement was rather tacky. Though you would never voice it, you found such sculptures outdated, believing they detracted from the natural beauty of the flowers.

The chirping of crickets was the only sound until you heard faint footsteps approaching. You stood quickly, ready to make your exit, but froze when Daniel’s figure emerged from around the hedge.

“What are you doing out here?” His surprise mirrored your own, but you relaxed, knowing it was only your husband who had found you shirking your duties at the ball in your honor.

“I just needed a breath,” you sighed, sinking back onto the bench. “Those women can be quite a handful. And a mouthful. And an earful.”

For the first time, you heard Daniel laugh—a soft chuckle, but the most heavenly sound you had heard in a long while. There was no one around, no need to maintain the charade of a happy couple, yet here he was, smiling at you as he came to sit beside you.

“I could surely say the same thing about the men. I do not remember them always being this way,” he confessed, shaking his head slightly.

The silence that enveloped you was unexpectedly comforting, not the tense affair you had anticipated with the Duke by your side. His hushed company, paradoxically, made you feel less isolated in this whole ordeal, despite his having been the very architect of your alienation. The irony was not lost on you.

“When I was younger,” Daniel broke the silence, drawing you from your thoughts, “I used to escape to our garden all the time.”

Our garden. You wondered to whom he referred. Perhaps it was a slip, an inadvertent inclusion of you in his memories. Yet, the nostalgic tone in his voice suggested he most likely spoke of his late parents. Far from deterring you, this revelation made you listen all the more intently. Never before had the Duke been so forthcoming, sharing fragments of his past that might offer insights into the man you had married.

You remained quiet, your eyes fixed on his face, waiting for him to continue.

“I’d sit out there for hours and hours,” he said, his gaze distant. “Sometimes until Roslyn had to come and drag me back inside.”

You smiled at the image of Roslyn scolding a young Daniel amidst the verdant splendor of the Sterling House garden.

“Our garden used to have a hedge maze,” you commented, feeling an urge to share a piece of your own childhood as well. “It wasn’t large, but it could certainly trick you up. I would get lost on purpose to avoid my lessons,” this made Daniel laugh again, a sound that was becoming increasingly pleasant to your ears. “But eventually, I started doing it simply because I enjoyed it so much.”

You sighed, a wistful note now coloring your reminiscence. Daniel noticed the shadow of sorrow on your face, understanding how deeply you missed the comforts of your former home.

He thought about how disorienting it must be to find yourself so far from everything familiar, in a place that was ostensibly your new home, yet where you felt so alone because of his coldness. It reminded him of his own experience, being thrust into the role of Duke at a tender age.

He turned to you with a gentle smile, “what else did you enjoy doing?”

The question caught your attention, as it seemed a genuine attempt on Daniel’s part to connect with you, free from the pressures of an audience. You smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth.

“Well, I enjoyed riding very much. My father was an avid rider, and it became a passion he passed on to me. I had a horse named Guinevere, given to me when I was only five, and my father taught me everything he knew. Soon, I was quite proficient.”

Daniel looked surprised. “Riding? Truly? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

You nodded, confirming your tale. “I would ride almost every day. When my father passed away, I couldn’t bear to continue, and eventually, my brother sold Guinevere, along with my father’s horse.”

The Duke absorbed every detail of your story, his interest visible. He found himself wanting to hear more, but something held him back from asking further.

A silence fell between you once more until you sighed again, “I hate parties.”

Daniel chuckled, a soft, genuine sound. “As do I, truly. Shall we leave?”

You looked at him with gratitude, “I would like that very much.”

You stood simultaneously, and in an instant, found yourselves startlingly close. Neither of you retreated, remaining instead in a charged proximity. Gazing up at him, you noticed how his eyes were not fixed on your own, but rather on your lips, adorned with a gentle red hue. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and though he seemed to struggle to look elsewhere, he could not.

Your eyes fell to his lips in return, slightly parted, and trembling with an unspoken desire. The moment was ripe; you could have kissed him, he could have kissed you, you could have kissed one another. He was your husband, after all, and there was nothing to hinder such an advance. If someone were to discover you both here, it would not have been scandalous. A newlywed couple sneaking off at a party was not unheard of.

Yet, neither of you made a move. You stood there, struck and yearning, Daniel’s fists clenching at his sides as he restrained himself, swallowing harshly.

"Shall we?" he finally broke the stalemate and gestured towards the small exit that would lead you back to the party.

You nodded, though it was barely convincing. Slowly, you began making your way out of the garden, and Daniel lingered behind, watching you before following a few paces behind.

Outside, Daniel had you wait while he went inside to fetch your staff. You bid farewell to a few guests passing by before seeing Daniel return several minutes later with the Sterling household staff in tow.

He and Sebastian were engaged in earnest conversation, and Roslyn took the moment to send you a small wink before making her way towards her carriage.

Daniel and Sebastian spoke for a moment longer before parting ways, Daniel coming to assist you into your carriage while Sebastian joined Roslyn.

As the coachman set off, you and the Duke sat side by side in tranquility. Steadily, the gentle motion of the carriage soon lulled you to sleep.

When you awoke again, the carriage was at a standstill, and you felt velvet against your cheek. Realizing it was Daniel’s coat you were resting on, you shot up quickly. You must have leaned onto him when you dozed, yet the fact that you remained there until returning to Sterling House felt peculiar.

Daniel watched you with an unreadable expression. "We’re home."

"Good," you cleared your throat, "I was beginning to grow tired."

Daniel laughed softly, sensing your embarrassment for falling asleep on him. Sparing you further discomfort, he simply opened the carriage door and helped you out.

As the staff began entering the house, you noticed Sebastian’s absence, but you were too weary to ponder it.

In the foyer, you and Daniel stood alone, several feet apart yet still very much in each other’s space, feeling just as close as you were on the dance floor.

"Goodnight," he spoke firmly but sincerely.

"Goodnight, Your Grace." You gave a small curtsy and immediately turned to ascend the staircase to your bedroom, eager to fall into bed and put some distance between you and Daniel before he stirred up those first-night emotions.

Though, you were afraid it had already begun.

Taglist: @jakekiszkashangnail08 @josh-iamyour-mama @freyjalw @gvfsstardust @peaceloveunitygvf @positivegvfthings

[maxispremades]

Перешагнув рубеж среднего возраста, Джулс принял решение кардинально изменить стиль. Больше никакого «экологичного» кэжуала — отныне только дерзость и роскошь!

Джулс хочет всегда быть в тренде и крайне болезненно воспринимает всё, что связано со старением. Поэтому: золотые цепи и серьги, массивные кольца, черный лак на ногтях, гранжевые рубашки и рэперские балахоны — всё, что угодно, лишь бы не выглядеть старым и скучным!

За то время, пока я играл с этими ребятами, Джулс успел до дрожи в коленках полюбить хип-хоп и R'n'B, что также отразилось в его новом образе. Составляя этот лукбук, я вдохновлялся стилем рэпера Моргенштерна — как мне кажется, Джулс Стерлинг-Рико очень похож на него как внешне, так и некоторыми чертами характера.

Повседневные образы Джулса:

Официальный и спортивный наряды, одежда для сна, купальный костюм и сезонные образы:

Наряд для вечеринок — мой фаворит!

[jasminesilk]

They eloped!

Cindy and Sterling will be inheriting the family cottage in Henford-on-Bagley as Marshall will soon be moving to Willow Creek to live with his girlfriend Audrey. I just wanted to make sure Cindy got her happily ever after before we moved households and weren't playing with her anymore!

[melinsimsland]

Date over, time to go back home.

[siyabsimmer]

‘Singles! household’– a sim dump

Hi friends!

I've been playing the new EP a little bit and I thought that it would be fun to make a few sims for Cupid's Corner and maybe for other use, if you want to. So here we are!  I've made a household of 3 sims. There are 2 versions of this household - one with CC and one without CC.

I already published a CC free version on my gallery - id: siyabsimmer - you can download it there! You will find the household in full, and a separated version, in case you don't want to download them all😌

CC version is available for download the same way - a full household, and simmies separated by one.

You can do whatever you want with them really, I don't mind if you change them in any way or use them as a base for your sims. Just have fun with it!

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TOU:

Do not reupload my content.

Do not claim as your own.

Do not put behind a paywall

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DOWNLOAD (SFS) – full household, Caitlin Shelley, Damon Sterling, Cecelia Monroe

DOWNLOAD (BOOSTY) – link

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@alwaysfreecc