#a guitar I own and bought with my own money

[mosaic-of-light]

Good thing #59: I get to sleep in tomorrow, and when I get up, I get to start learning how to play guitar :)

[junislqve]

ᯓ million dollar — ot7

syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)

pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi

notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately

LEE HEESEUNG

“take as much time as you want, love”

earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.

your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.

heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.

“do you need a new dress, love?”

after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.

and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.

heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.

walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.

“spend it all on anything you want, baby”

PARK JONGSEONG

as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.

jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.

you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.

it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.

“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”

you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.

you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.

when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.

“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”

SIM JAEYUN

“but you look so good in these, babe”

opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.

the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.

you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.

“i seriously need to go on a ban”

“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.

“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.

“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.

that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.

“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.

“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”

PARK SUNGHOON

as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.

and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.

you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.

when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.

even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.

on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.

“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.

it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.

sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.

but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.

he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.

so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.

with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.

“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”

YANG JUNGWON

he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.

it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.

anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.

his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.

both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.

“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.

“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”

NISHIMURA RIKI

as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.

he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.

you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.

the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.

“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.

“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.

silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.

“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.

he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 3 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: A run in with the cops is another reminder of the horrors Azriel faced through his childhood. Maybe one day he'll open up about it, but not today. Today, he's solely focussed on helping you out of a bad trip. (8.2k)

WARNINGS: swearing, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), greening out, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty talk, use of toys hehe, slapping/spanking, spitting, dom!Az, mentions of Az's abusive childhood.

A/N: firstly, I want to massively apologise for not updating this in sooo long. Life has been busy and I've been reading so much lately that writing slipped my mind. To make up for it, there is some filthy smut in this chapter and I am hoping to be a bit more consistent with the next updates. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When Azriel was a young boy, he dreamt of becoming a guitarist. It didn’t matter to him then if he was famous or not. Just so long as he was good enough to be able to replicate famous rifts with his own spin, and create his own music, too. 

For his fifth birthday, his mother bought him a children’s guitar, complete with the plastic pics and a leather strap with his initials etched into the fine fabric. He knew, even at that age, that the gift had cost his mother a small fortune. But she didn’t care how much it set her back. The look of pure shock and excitement on her boy's face was worth every single penny she spent. 

He could still remember the untold amounts of sleep he would forfeit to learn a new chord or finally string more than three together at once. By seven years old, he could recreate the first half of Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd—albeit choppy and slightly out of time—and memorise the chords by heart. 

His half-brothers had never liked that about Azriel. His talent and passion for music and the guitar. Even at the ages of five and four, they did not like Azriel. More often than not, they’d plant broken vases and stained cushions for their parents to find, and blame them on Azriel. They knew their father would take away his guitar for a few days to a week as punishment. 

But even then, a week wasn’t long enough. Their hatred for Azriel stemmed long before his love for guitar had grown. From the moment his half-brothers learned how to talk, Az was on the daggered end of their spiteful tongue and manipulative masterminds. As young as he was, Azriel wasn’t blind to the cause of it. He wasn’t blind to his step-father’s hatred for him, that he then instilled in his own blood sons. 

Being what they called a ‘blood traitor’ would always be their main justification for what they did. Azriel had never admitted to anyone the second reason his brothers set his hands alight. But the other thought behind it—the more vicious and calculated thought—was to burn not just his hands, but his dreams, too. 

For months after the incident, Azriel’s hands remained bandaged. He could hardly use them for everyday tasks like dressing and washing and eating. And when they had finally healed enough for the bandages to be permanently removed, he couldn’t play his beloved guitar. 

The strings were too harsh on his sensitive skin. It hurt so much just pressing down on the chords on the neck, let alone pinching the pic for longer than thirty seconds at a time. Azriel had to learn how to play all over again, covered in blisters and burnt flesh. And then his marred skin began to harden and callous and every strum was more painful than before. 

He often wondered if this would still be his life path had the burning never happened. If he would have still met Rhys and Cass, if he would still be selling drugs. He knew he wouldn’t be this well-off financially, but at what cost? What did all of this money mean when it was just him? When he wouldn’t be able to fulfil his biggest dream in life? 

He mostly thought about it all in times like this, when he was spontaneously pulled over by the cops for what they called a “random stop and search”, though they had never given a plausible cause for it. And today would be no different. 

“You stalking me again, Reynolds?” Az asked in a rugged tone as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. 

Officer Reynolds, one of the few officers that continuously pulled Az over and searched his vehicle, leaned against the open window with his arms crossed. His blue eyes gleamed with hope of catching something on him this time, though Az knew Reynolds would walk away with another few grey hairs to add to his collection. 

Reynolds was a strange looking man. Not in his features, but in the glint of his eyes and the disturbing tug of his lips whenever he offered a grim smile. He radiated nothing but offsetting energy, one that stunk of noncy behaviour and less than ethical tendencies. 

His iced eyes darted quickly across Azriel’s lap and the passenger's seat, coming up short and settling his gaze on the man again. 

“Random stop and search, nothing personal.” He grinned that awful smile but Azriel paid no mind to it. “Step out of the car, licence and registration.” Azriel was already reaching into the glovebox for his paperwork before Reynolds could even speak. 

He handed them over, opening the door as the officer stepped away, and stood with his hands on the hood of his Mustang. Azriel knew the drill. He’d been patted down and had his car searched more times than he could count in the past six months alone. 

And each and every time, Reynolds always came up short. 

“Got any weapons in the vehicle?” 

Azriel rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder as Reynolds began to pat down his stomach and thighs. “Do I look like the type that needs a weapon?” 

A dry chuckle slipped from the officers lips as he patted harder down Azriel’s calves and ankles before turning to his full—albeit short—height. “What about narcotics? Any drugs that I should be aware of?” 

Az grunted with another roll of his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Officer Reynolds didn’t offer a response. Instead, he bent his body into the driver's side of the Mustang and began stifling through every nook and cranny that his swollen hands could reach. 

Azriel’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited and waited for the search to end. They wouldn’t find a damn thing, especially because of the new addition Azriel had recently added to his modded car. 

But that knowledge of the secret compartment didn’t stop his muscles from tensing just slightly when Reynolds wrapped his puffed fingers around the foot mat and peeled it up. 

Azriel’s stash was well hidden; wrapped and locked in an extended box beneath his footwell that managed to also keep the scent out. He knew it was a matter of time before they started bringing a K9 with them on their searches, so Azriel had to be prepared for that well in advance. 

Especially with how strong the new strain smelt. 

With a huff, Reynolds haphazardly threw the foot mat back down and struggled to clamber out of the car. And just like Azriel suspected, he came up short. 

Reynolds handed him back his paperwork and rested his hands back on his belt, fingers itching for his baton to give Az a taste of the frustration he caused him. Azriel didn’t so much as bat an eye at it. He knew Reynolds wouldn’t touch him. Not if he wanted to keep both his stumpy legs in use. 

“You know, this is getting pretty old. How do I go about filing a harassment charge?” 

Reynolds scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

//

If there was one thing Az liked about having his brothers home, it was the lack of talking his mind did. There was no silence for his brain and thoughts to gang up on him, to have him question every thought and decision he’d ever made. 

Music and guitar usually helped to quiet those demons—the shadows that he had no control over—but the frustration from his earlier encounter with Reynolds had the desire for playing at the bottom of his list. 

Instead, he settled for Nesta’s demand to braid her hair. She knew him better than she let the others know. Since they first met years ago, he became the brother she never had, that she never knew she needed. She was quick to learn his quirks and mannerisms; what they meant and how he felt. 

And he learnt the same for her. 

“You’re doing it too loose,” Nesta huffed, picking at her nails from her seat on the carpet between Azriel’s parted thighs. He huffed, flexing his fingers and undoing the braid. 

“Last time you told me it was too tight and it gave you a migraine,” he retorted back with an exasperated huff.

They argued like real siblings, too. 

“Just do it a little looser than last time.”

Azriel split her hair into three sections once more and slowly started to braid, overlapping the sections and tugging a bit tighter than his previous attempt. Nesta hummed in approval.

They didn’t pay much mind to the others. Rhys and Feyre were cuddled on the loveseat opposite them, Cassian on their left with a bulky pair of headphones on his head as he smashed the buttons of the gaming remote beneath his fingers. 

He was growing frustrated that he was losing, but it didn’t help that his hands were so massive that the pad of his thumb was big enough to press all the buttons at once. 

“Hey, Az… there’s this girl I know…” Azriel’s grunt cut Feyre off before she could say anything else. He tied Nesta’s braid and tapped her shoulders, signally he was done. 

“Not this again, Fey,” he groaned. 

A sheepish smile sat on her full lips, a gentle tint of pink blushing the apples of her cheeks. “I really think you guys would get along, though. She’s super laid back and so gorgeous.” 

Nesta moved from between Az’s thighs on the ground and clambered back onto the sofa, reaching for her tumbler of gin and tonic. Azriel was used to this, to Feyre trying to set him up. Each time, he’d always shut her advances down, but that never stopped her.

Feyre considered it a challenge, and she wouldn’t stop until Azriel agreed to go on a date. Just once, and she’d back off. She was fairly confident that one date would be all it would take for Azriel to fall for her mysterious friend. 

“I don’t need to be set up,” he spoke, finality in his tone. 

Rhys cocked a brow at how quickly Az dismissed his girlfriend but said nothing. He knew Feyre could get a bit too much with it sometimes, but Rhys himself still had hopes that maybe one day, Az would bite the bullet and just agree. 

But Azriel had no plans to do that. He didn't want to be set up on a blind date, and he most certainly did not need nor want his friends involving themselves in his love life—or lack thereof. It wasn’t that he struggled with girls, Mother, no. Not once in his life did Azriel ever have a shortage of pussy.

If he wanted it, he would get it. On his own. Without his brother's girlfriend’s self-involvement. 

His phone chimed from his back pocket, and not bothering another glance at Feyre, Azriel retrieved it to read over the message. 

You: you weren’t kidding. This shit is strongggg x

His heart rate quickened as he read the text again and again. Azriel hadn’t heard from for three days—since that kiss—and now he was reminiscing on the taste of your mouth on his. 

Azriel: I did warn you

You: maybe next time you could write a reminder on my baggie?

A grin stretched across the expanse of his lips, eyes glittering at how quickly you responded. The act didn’t go unmissed by Nesta, who grinned against her staw and wiggled her toes against the side of Azriel’s thigh. She knew that face—that look. 

“Azzy doesn’t want to get set up because he already has a crush on someone.” 

All eyes snapped to Azriel and Nesta at her words, eyes so wide they almost bulged from their heads. They all knew Az was a ladies man, that although he kept his sex life private, he was well endowed in that aspect. But what they had never really seen was Azriel with a crush. 

With someone who was more than a booty call or a fling.

Az narrowed his eyes at Nesta, a hard expression removing his previous smile. The phone in his hand began to vibrate and a quick glance at it had your number filling the screen through an incoming call. 

His heart stammered. 

“I don’t have a crush. It’s just a client.” He stood from the couch, his scarred thumb hovering over the answer button. 

Nesta grinned maniacally, taking another sip of her gin. “A lady client?” Azriel’s response was a pillow launched at Nesta’s face before leaving his family and shutting himself away in his bedroom. 

Az took a deep breath then swiped his screen to accept the call. “Hey,” he greeted, bringing the phone to his ear. “You doing okay?” 

There was a pregnant pause for a moment before your airy laugh breathed down the line and Azriel’s throat began to close up at the sound. “I think I’ve greened out a little,” you giggled, almost painfully. “Everything is spinning and heavy and when I close my eyes, I get seasick… is that normal?” 

Az pursed his lips, biting back his own smile. The fact that you’d managed to text full sentences and then call him suggested you hadn’t greened out too badly. And by the light self-deprecating laugh at your own situation, he knew you weren’t falling in too deep of a hole. 

“It should pass soon, it shouldn't get worse than how you feel now. Where are you?” 

“I’m at home so I’m okay. I just didn’t know what was the best thing to help.” 

Azriel shouldn’t have let your words affect him the way they did. They shouldn’t have warmed his heart and sent it soaring in his chest. But in your slightly vulnerable predicament, out of everyone that smoked in your life and would understand, it was him that you called for advice. 

Not your friends, not your ex. Him. 

“Honestly? Food and water.”

Another pause of silence had Azriel thinking a bit too much again. If you were calling him for advice, this was likely your first time greening out, and he wondered if you’d even be able to handle making yourself food alone. 

After a moment of consideration, he spoke again. “Want me to stop by?” 

Azriel could hear your soft breath through the call. “Isn’t that crossing a line?” you asked in a gentle voice. 

He frowned, brows pinched. “What line?” 

“I’m your client, you’re my plug,” you reminded him, and something about it sent a sour taste to the back of his throat. 

“You’re my friend,” he offered. 

He wondered if you considered that or not, and by the pause of silence once more, he got his answer. 

“I am?” The soft tone of your question hurt him more than it should’ve. It shouldn’t have hurt him at all. 

“Am I not yours?” 

You were considering it, though. In your book, he was definitely your friend. He’d comforted you just a few nights ago after the fiasco with your sister's secret wedding, had bought you food and then… He’d kissed you. Or had you kissed him? 

You supposed he was your friend, but you didn’t think you meant anything more to him than being just another client. Clearly, you were wrong. 

“Yeah… I guess you are.” 

The corners of Azriel's lips tugged upward slightly. “Great, so send me your address and I’ll stop by with some food.”

Perhaps you should’ve told him no, that it truly wasn’t necessary and you could just pick at a couple of leftover cookies you’d baked yesterday. But you didn’t. You wanted to see him again, wondered so desperately if that kiss had meant anything at all… if it would happen again. 

“I have a spare set of keys in a security lock outside. The code is 4369, let yourself in.” 

// 

You didn’t know how much time you had to try and sort yourself out before Azriel would arrive. But as hard as you tried, every time you raised your head you were met with an onslaught of nausea and dizziness. 

You spent around five minutes attempting to regulate your breathing to rid those feelings, but your body remained stomach down on the couch with your face squished against a pillow. 

If you could stomach the feeling of your eyes being closed for longer than five seconds at a time, you probably could’ve fallen asleep. But alas, the sound of a key entering the lock of your front door had your eyes widening a little further and heart stammering against your ribs. 

“Knock, knock.” Azriel’s voice dripped with honey as he spoke into the expanse of your open plan living-kitchen area. 

Though you couldn’t see him from your position, you could hear the faint rusting of a takeout bag in his hand as he closed the door quietly and kicked off his shoes at the door. 

You didn’t need to call out to him for Az to see you. Sprawled on the sofa, just off to his left, he grinned comically, ignoring the unfamiliar swell in his chest. His feet padded closer to the couch, settling the food on the coffee table and the smell of hot, fried chicken wafted through your senses. 

Azriel helping you sit up and handing you the same meal you ordered the last time you saw one another was a bit of a blur. But the second the food hit your tongue and your tastebuds exploded in delight, the nausea slowly dwindled from your senses. 

“You are my saviour,” you moaned around the food, eyes fluttering closed and none the wiser to Azriel’s growing blush. 

Sat in comfortable silence, Azriel didn’t want you to focus on anything other than feeling yourself again. Within a few minutes, you’d both finished your food and your face didn’t seem so sunken and pasty. 

Now, you looked wonderfully blitzed, skin a little brighter than before and a sparkling sheen to your bloodshot eyes. Yeah, you were out of the woods, your body warm and relaxed. 

“You feeling okay?” he finally managed to ask, shoving the last fry between his lips as you nodded at his question. 

“I feel perfectly baked now.” 

A laugh spluttered from his lips at your words as he wiped his scarred hands clean on a paper napkin. For the first time in the past twenty minutes, Az allowed his eyes to gaze across the expanse of your rather cosy living room. 

Soft, golden lighting that warmed the room, plants of varying shapes and colours tucked into every corner and crevice available. Mismatched furniture and draping vines. 

It was cute, all of it. Very you. The wall facing the couch was hidden beneath tall bookcases that were filled to the brim with every type of book he could imagine. Even with squinted eyes, he could make out a few familiar authors amongst your shelves. 

“Have you read all of those?” He threw his gaze to you, wonder and slight adoration in his eyes, though you were sure you imagined the latter. 

“Mhm,” you hummed around your drink. “Some more times than I can remember.” 

You watched him stand from the couch, his tall frame approaching your collection. He was dressed in black again – his simple jeans and sweater combo – and his hair was perfectly tousled and swept down his forehead. 

Eyes on him, his finger traced the spines of your beloved possessions, settling on one in particular that made your breath still in your chest. Azriel gently pulled it off the shelf, hazel eyes examining the near-pristine cover. 

“Careful,” your soft voice warned him. “It’s worth three grand.” 

Azriel’s eyes almost bulged from his head as he turned to you with the most bewildered expression you’d ever seen. It took every ounce of control not to burst into laughter. 

“What?”

“It’s 134 years old. I restored it the best I could. You should’ve seen it when I found it.” 

Azriel’s brows pulled into a confused frown. “Restored it?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I do for work.” 

When his frown didn’t ease, you cleared your throat to continue. “I work between an auction and a museum in the city. I find the old books and restore them, then sell them through the auction, or they go to the museum.” 

His once furrowed brows raised, his eyes darting back to the book in his hand as if he was inspecting the eighth wonder of the world. Azriel finally turned back to you with a smile that borderlined a smirk. 

“That’s actually pretty cool.” 

A satisfied yet sheepish smile found its way to your lips, cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze. Azriel slid the book back onto the shelf and continued his observations. 

If you were being honest, it was a little too intimate for your liking. No one in your life had ever taken such interest in your books, not your friends or past lovers. It wasn’t like your love for books was much of a secret, but no one had taken the time to get to know them. 

To know your books was to know you. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Azriel was the person to do so. In the short time you’d known him, you realised he was full of surprises.

“What about you?” Your voice greeted his ears softly as you cleaned up the trash from your food. Azriel casted barely a look over his shoulder, eyes caught on your limited edition fantasy book set. A part of you begged to take Azriel’s attention off them. “What do you do for work?” 

That seemed to earn his full attention, causing him to turn to face you fully. With an amused smirk, he followed you a few feet into the open kitchen. “You know what I do for work.” 

Ah. 

“You don’t have anything…legal…to keep on the books?” 

He tried to hide his amusement at your words, but to no avail. Azriel’s smirk only grew and he found himself wondering if his answer might make you think differently of him. 

“If you wanna talk…legalities…then I’m an investor in the stock market.” 

It was your turn to hold the raised eyebrows – a look that Azriel was quick to mirror. “What?” He asked. “You don’t think I could work in stocks?” 

“Do you?” You pressed. 

Azriel’s grin widened slightly. “I do. And I’ll have you know that I’m very good at it.” 

You didn’t want nor need to know any more. You weren’t about to outright ask how much money he had, and if he told you out of his own desire, you were certain it would only make you feel like pure shit. 

Your apartment and belongings weren’t much but they were yours. Everything you had, you worked for. You could do without knowing how many thousands he had sitting pretty in his bank. 

Azriel noticed that distant look in your eyes and took a seat at your island. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable. And if he was being perfectly honest, it was appallingly refreshing to speak with a woman about his side-hustle without them swooning or prying for more details. 

And it appeared that it was only now that either of you were realising how different things were the last time you saw one another. When your lips pressed against his and he kissed you back with just as much want and vigour. 

As if remembering that searing moment, your face and chest began to warm. You were quick to turn away from him, needing a moment to compose yourself and the tight feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

You tried desperately to ignore the ache between your thighs at the memory, instead opting to focus your attention on the half empty box of cookies on the counter. Flipping the lid, you offered one to Azriel who took it without much prompting. 

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line, but if you make enough money investing in stocks, why do you still deal?” 

Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed as he took a bite out of the chocolate chip cookie, and you found your eyes zeroed in on the way his plump lips moved and his broad shoulders slacked slightly. 

His eyes opened to focus on yours. “These are incredible.” You offered a smile, waiting. “Dealing is what got me the money to be able to invest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at it, but I lost a lot to get where I am. Dealing is steady income for now. It’s not something I plan to do forever.”

You didn’t probe any further, satisfied with the answer he provided and not wanting to push your luck. Your eyes were drawn to his mouth again, flashes of memories littering your mind as your body warmed once more. 

Clearing your throat, you desperately tried to blink away the haziness he seemed to make you feel. 

“You can smoke out on the balcony, if you want.” 

Azriel finished the last of his cookie and leaned forward on the counter. “I didn’t bring anything.” 

Your head tilted slightly to the half-smoked joint on your counter, stubbed out and back in your open tin. “Smoke the rest of that. It’s too strong for me and I know your tolerance is higher than mine.”

Azriel laughed; hearty and rich and deep. It tickled up your spine and reached around your neck and jaw to tug the corners of your lips into a smile. The effect he had on you was growing to be a slight problem. 

“You wanna come? Fresh air will help.” 

He watched you pinch the joint and lighter from your tin and lead him through to your bedroom. It was decorated similarly to the rest of your apartment–twinkling fairy lights and books and plants–and out on the small balcony, you’d managed to cram a rattan loveseat and table with vines wrapped around the short iron guard rail. 

“Here.” You handed him the joint and lighter. “I’ll be back out, I’m just going to change.” 

Azriel sparked up the joint between his lips, taking a long drag as you returned to your room. The smoke hit the back of his throat sharply, almost knocking him sideways. Even he hadn’t smoked a joint this packed and strong in a while. It was no wonder you’d had a wobble with it. 

He took a seat on the rattan furniture, admiring the little view your balcony offered. The summer air kissed his skin, even as late as the evening was. The warmth of it had him shrugging off his sweater and throwing it over the table, taking another deep pull. 

If Azriel was honest, he was quite thankful for the moments reprieve from your presence. He needed to take a second to calm himself down. Az couldn’t remember the last time he partook in something like this with someone who wasn’t his brothers or their girls. 

This was more of a common thing with Nesta, smoking and eating together. Never Feyre, she always preferred a glass of wine, and occasionally Mor would smoke with him when she was passing through town. Never a random girl, never a new friend. 

But that moment's reprieve was ripped away far too quickly, because you were sauntering back onto the balcony and stealing the breath right from Azriel’s smoked lungs. 

He was fucked. Comepletly and utterly fucked. He’d never seen you look so relaxed, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of mismatched socks. Your hair was thrown up lazily and stray pieces fell out to frame your face. 

Your legs, however, he couldn’t stop gawking. Soft skin and a whole lot of thigh. Azriel forced his gaze to your face again as you took a seat beside him on the loveseat, leaning your back on the armrest and bringing your knees up to your chest. 

Mother above, he could feel his cock begin to strain in his pants, his eyes begging to sweep your body once more to see what lay between your slightly parted legs. From his peripheral vision, he could see you cross your ankles, effectively shielding yourself.

But Azriel was good at reading people, and by the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes grew more hooded by the second, he was more than certain you knew what you were doing and the affects your actions had on him. 

He took another pull of the joint. “You weren’t kidding,” he mumbled, “this shit is strong.” A bubbly laugh fell from your lips at the way his eyes squinted when the drug settled into his lungs. 

“I did warn you.” 

Azriel offered it to you, watching your inner turmoil as you weighed out your options until pinching it from his fingers. “One pull will be enough to keep me buzzed for the night.” 

He watched your lips thin as they clamped down on the roach. He watched your chest rise as your lungs filled with the thick tar until you pulled the joint from your lips and exhaled slowly. You handed it back to him, cutting yourself off completely for the night. 

Azriel took it between two pinched fingers, keeping his eyes on your slightly flushed face as he took another few drags before stuffing the cherry out in the ashtray. His gaze found purchase on your lips again as he mirrored your position on the loveseat, though Az didn’t tuck his knees to his chest. 

“Are we gonna talk about it?” He asked. 

You blinked at him, head tilted slightly to the left. “Talk about what?”

The way his taunting smirk grew made you shift uncomfortably. You had an inkling as to what he meant, but you hoped if you played dumb, he would drop it. Clearly not. 

“About the last time we saw each other.”

Yup. There it is. 

That familiar warmth spread across your face and chest again in waves of anxiety and embarrassment. You couldn’t handle this type of conversation right now. You were mortified enough as it was, you didn’t need to reminisce about your stupid mistake, nor the way he kissed you back as though his life depended on it. 

You let out a long sigh. “I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten about it.” 

Azriel quirked a brow. “Forget about it?” he asked. “You expected me to forget a kiss like that?” 

It felt like all the air had been completely sucked from your lungs. You could hardly breathe, struggling to string a coherent reply together. Azriel continued to smirk at you, bathing in the way he clearly made you feel. Like he was getting off on your flustered state. 

The state he put you in. 

“It’s been replaying in my head for days.” Azriel’s admission sent your mind into a frenzy. You had no idea what to do with that information or how it was supposed to make you feel. 

What you did know, was that familiar burning in the pit of your stomach, that daunting ache between your clenched thighs. And the way Azriel's eyes darkened and slowly traced the silhouette of your figure, you got the hint he felt the same way, too. 

“Yeah?” Your words came out as barely a whisper, lashes fluttering as the weed you’d just smoked began to settle into your bloodstream. 

Azriel inched a hand tentatively toward your ankle, the tips of his scarred fingers brushing against your cotton socks. The touch had your body keening for more, your legs twitching as he slowly wrapped a large hand around your lower leg. 

“Yeah,” he replied, almost breathless. 

He was testing the waters, desperate to get a feeler as to what you wanted from this interaction. Azriel watched you closely, cataloguing every response your body gave his touch. How goosebumps broke across the silky skin of your legs, how your cheeks flushed slightly and lashes fluttered at him. 

“Is that all you’ve been thinking about?” Your husky voice finally broke through the silence. Az raised a brow at your boldness. “Or do you let your mind wander to what else could’ve happened?” 

If it weren’t for the stifling warmth in the air, Azriel was sure he would’ve come in his pants from your words alone. Because he knew that meant you’d been letting your mind wander to something more. 

You allowed him to gently tug your leg down, resting the back of your calf across his thigh. Your covered cunt was surely exposed, but Az didn’t look. Not yet. A sneaky peek wouldn’t be enough to satiate the appetite he had grown for you. 

He needed to bathe and bask and bury himself in your scent. Mould his body to body, meld his soul to your soul. Even then, he would never be able to feel you as closely as he craved. 

“You want me to tell you what places my mind has wandered to?” His eyes were glued to your mouth, watching as your tongue slid out to wet your lips before tugging the bottom one between your teeth. 

It was with a surge of complete arousal and haziness that had you uttering, “I want you to show me.” 

Azriel’s lips were on yours not a moment later when he surged forward to trap your small frame beneath his large one on the loveseat. You could barely make sense of where you ended and Azriel began. 

His scarred hands cupped your face, his tongue massaging hotly against your own. Your legs had wrapped around his waist, ankles locked across his back to keep him close to you. 

It was unlike any kiss you’d experienced before. Passion and need and desire. Pure want and carnage. Like nothing could ever stop him from tasting you again. Like he was savouring every single piece of you. 

“If you want me to show you…” he muttered against your lips, “I suggest you let me take you inside.” 

You pulled away just enough for your noses to bump and make out a blurry picture of him before you. Swollen lips, mussed up hair that you hadn’t realised you’d been running your fingers through. 

“Worried someone might see?” You panted in a teasing tone. 

His eyes shadowed impossibly darker. “I don’t like to share.” 

Squirming beneath his thick body, your fingernails scraped across his broad shoulders, scratching at the cotton of his t-shirt. “It’s not sharing if they’re just watching.” 

Azriel nipped your bottom lip. “Well, I’m a greedy man, and I don’t want anyone else watching you come on my cock but me.”

A breathless moan tumbled off your tongue like hot honey, your eyes fluttering closed at the words he spoke. You hoped this was just the tip of the iceberg with him. Prayed that he was as filthy as he was gorgeous. 

Without another second to get lost in your thoughts, Azriel was gripping your hips, lifting you as he stood. Your legs around his waist tightened as your arms snaked to circle his neck. 

Even in the dark, he moved swiftly, settling your body onto your mattress without missing a beat. He crawled back between your thighs, the moonlight kissing his tanned skin through the cracks of your window. 

His lips were on yours again, searing and eager. Azriel poured every ounce of need and desire into it, massaging your tongue and licking against the roof of your mouth. He tasted like the cookies you’d baked, a hint of smoke and a tang of bud. 

It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 

Your fingers tugged at the curled tendrils on the nape of his neck, ushering him impossibly closer. His body flattened atop yours, the grooves of his abs pressing deliciously against your stomach and chest. 

Gods, he was solid. Built like a fucking Greek God and your fingers itched to trace the delicate intricacies of his golden skin. 

“Azriel,” you panted against his lips. “If you don’t touch me right now I’m going to burst into flames.” 

A dry chuckle left his throat as he dragged his mouth across your jaw and down to your neck; kissing and licking and sucking. He nipped at a sensitive spot, begrudgingly tugging himself off your frame. 

Sitting on his knees between your open thighs, he was a fucking sight. His chest heaved as he took a breath, his eyes dark and hair an unruly mess. Excitement was getting the better of you. So much so that when his scarred fingers looped in the neck of his shirt and tugged it up, you all but foamed at the fucking mouth. 

An unexplainable sound squeaked from the back of your throat. He was fucking beautiful. His skin was flawless, abdomen toned with divots of muscle, and dark ink of swirls that adored his chest. 

You could physically feel your arousal seep from your cunt, could feel your clit throb in desperate need for him. You could hardly breathe, your lungs almost crushed by his sheer beauty. 

You could stare at him forever. 

“Are you going to be good for me?” His rugged voice broke you from your trance. You blinked at him. Once, twice. 

Gone was the flirtatious Azriel who once made you blush from teasing. Gone was the light warmth in his smile and cheeky glimmer in his eyes. 

The Azriel before you was cold now. Calculated. He oozed power and dominance and your pussy clenched in anticipation of the pleasure he might inflict on you. 

The Azriel before you held all the control. And you’d gladly surrender whatever you had left to offer. 

“Yes,” you whimpered in response. 

He didn’t reply. Not with words. Azriel’s large palms flattened on your inner thighs as he pried your legs further apart. The calluses of his marred fingers scratched at your silky skin as they inched closer and closer to your core. 

His fingertips grazed at the soaked fabric of your panties. “Look at you, pretty girl.” 

Your lashes fluttered closed, lips parted open, head rolled back. Gods, you wanted his voice on a loop in your brain for the rest of eternity. If he was going to continue talking, you wouldn’t last long. 

“Look at your dripping little cunt.”

You couldn’t hold in the whimper, nor the way you clenched on nothing—so desperate to be filled by him. 

“I’m going to take my time with you.” You knew it wasn’t a threat, but Christ did it sound like one. You were far too pent up to be touched in any way that wasn’t with a cock buried deep inside you. 

Foreplay could come next time, you’d let him spend hours devouring you if that was what he truly wanted. Not now, not when you were borderline going to sob. 

“Fuck me, Az.”

He stilled, eyes on you as his hands halted on your inner thighs. “Please,” you whimpered, “I need you to fuck me. You can do what you want to me next time.” 

Azriel cocked a brow, the familiar hint of him returning to his face for a brief moment. “You promise?” 

Neither of you allowed yourselves longer than a few brief moments to bask in the vow of a next time. Not when he ghosted his fingers across your cunt and you nodded your head quickly, desperately. 

“There’s condoms in the drawer.” Your words came out a breathless pant as Azriel’s toned body leaned over yours. He rifled through your nightstand, blindly reaching for a foil packet when his fingers grazed against something else. Something silicone.

His eyes found yours in the night, a mischievous glint that darkened his honeyed hazel iris’. Your lips parted. “What?” 

From your angle, you couldn’t see what he held in his hands. Not until Azriel leaned back on his knees between your parted thighs, and the moonlight bounced off the hot pink toy in his palm. 

Oh, fuck. 

Without breaking your gaze, Az gently stroked the tip of the six inch object against your panty-covered cunt. You were soaking through the fabric, your thighs trembling on either side of his legs. 

There was no way this was happening. No way he was going to–

“I think I wanna fuck you with this instead.” 

You couldn’t argue with him, couldn’t even muster a single word to leave your lips. No one had used a sex toy on you before, much less a fucking dildo. And yet here Azriel was, eager to please you in the dirtiest ways possible. Even if it denied him his own pleasure. 

“Az—“ 

He held his free hand in the air. 

“Let’s call it a compromise.” His tone suggested there was no room for argument. You clamped your lips shut and continued to take deep, ragged breaths through your nose. 

“If you’re a good girl with this toy, I’ll reward you with my cock later.” 

Later. As in, he wasn’t planning on making you come just once…

You nodded once more, vigorously. 

If it was down to Azriel he would’ve tied you up and taken his time with you anyway. He would’ve told you not to be a spoiled brat and to take whatever he gave you like a good girl. 

But he couldn’t do that, not yet. 

He couldn’t deprive you of the one thing you desperately wanted. But he could take away the thing to cause the most pleasure. Replace his cock with a toy. Watch you come all over it. And then ruin you until you creamed all over him and sobbed from overstimulating. 

Azriel’s cock leapt in the tight confinements of his pants. He was desperate to free himself, touch himself. Have you touch him. He’d imagined the feeling of your lips around his dick for days, let his mind wander to what you’d look like on your knees for him. 

He needed to be patient, he’d be able to stuff your throat full soon enough. He was sure of it. Then he’d let you sit on his tongue and suffocate him until you were both seeing stars. 

“Please, baby.” 

Your pleading voice broke him from his trance and Azriel wrapped two fingers around your panties and pulled them to the side, baring yourself to him. 

And what a sight you were. 

Swollen and soaked. Your pussy glistened under the moonlight, your hips rolling lazily as if trying to chase the touches he wouldn’t grant you. Az wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your warmth and stay there all fucking night. 

But he didn’t touch you, at least not with his own body and skin. Azriel motioned the toy to your heat, teasingly sliding through your slick folds to collect your arousal. You jolted at the sensation, shuddering beneath his touch. 

Azriel leaned over your body, one arm supporting his weight beside your head, the other coaxing the toy through your head, nudging the head against your pulsing clit. 

“You’re gonna keep your eyes on me, and you’re gonna imagine it’s my cock fucking your tight little pussy.” Your chest arched into his, nipples pearled beneath the thin fabric of your t-shirt. 

“Do you understand?” There he was again, that dominant and overpowering Azriel you saw just moments ago. 

You nodded, lips blubbering slightly. “Yes.” 

He cooed you softly, his head dipping down enough to brush his nose against yours. Azriel lined the dildo to your entrance, teasing your hole deliciously before gently pushing through your tightness. 

Your lips parted, brows knit as your body grew taut. His honey gaze dripped into yours, melding you to him as Azriel rolled his hips to mirror what he would do if he was the one fucking you. 

“Such a good girl, taking that cock.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed at his praise, head rolling back into the pillow until his weight shifted above you and a briefly sharp sting met the side of your cheek. Your eyes flew open again, wide and confused. 

Azriel looked down at you, his hand now gripping either side of your cheeks, his gaze much darker than before. 

“I told you to keep your pretty eyes on me.” And then he sheathed the toy deep in your cunt. 

A shriek of pleasure tore through your throat, hands reaching for the warm skin of Azriel’s shoulders. Your nails dragged across the muscles that rippled beneath your touch, scratching at the surface with a cry. 

“Fuck!” 

Azriel began with slow thrusts, allowing you a few brief moments to accumulate to the intrusion. Not much time, but enough. Because after the fourth thrust, he picked up the pace. 

The noises were obscene, your high pitched cries and moans and the squelching of the toy that fucked your sopping cunt. 

Everything was too intense to comprehend. The fullness you felt, the lack of control you possessed. And the way his eyes bore into yours, as though he was claiming your soul to melt with his own. He was hauntingly beautiful, even in his dark demeanour. 

In your hazy state, it looked like even the shadows curled around his figure. As though he was their master, too. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he praised. “Taking that cock like a good little girl.” 

His voice dripped with sex and arousal, and when he shifted his hips once more, you could feel the thick and solid bulge of his length in his trousers. You wanted nothing more than to feel it, taste it. 

You clamped tightly around the toy, dragging scratches and marks down Azriel’s golden skin. “Please let me come.” You had never begged to come before, had never even asked. But you felt no shame in pleading to the God above you for your release. 

You’d give him anything he wanted. 

Azriel’s own breath grew shaky, unready. “Open your mouth,” he commanded. You listened and complied immediately, eager to please him. 

He leaned closer, pinching your face harder before spitting into your mouth, onto your awaiting tongue. Then he was kissing you, biting you, claiming you. 

Your entire body felt like it burst into flames, hot fire licking at you from the inside out. You couldn’t breathe. Your entire being completely locked and consumed as you came around the toy with a frantic sob of his name. 

Azriel couldn’t cope, couldn’t handle the sound of his name on your lips as you came around something that wasn’t him. Every ounce of self control was crumbling down at the sight of you—of your eyes still fixed on his, your jaw slack and your supple body arching to meet his. 

He’d never seen anything so fucking sinful yet heavenly at the same time. Never felt so connected to someone without even touching them. He couldn’t take it, needed to touch you, feel you, taste you. 

Az pulled the toy from your pussy, dragging it up between your bodies as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. He held it to your mouth, and without command, your tongue swirled around the length of it, tasting your own release with your eyes still boring into his soul. 

And now he had an even more vivid image of what you’d look like sucking his cock. 

Before Azriel could get a taste for himself, that cursed blaring of his phone broke through the heaving silence. He didn’t hear it at first, not until it stole your attention from him. 

“You’re phone,” you muttered breathlessly, barely coherent. 

Azriel dropped the toy to the side of the bed, his hands gentle on your body and face now. “Ignore it,” he breathed softly. 

His lips met yours in a taunting kiss, one so stark opposite to the way he’d treated you just moments ago. The versatility of this man was going to give you whiplash. 

But the phone blared again. And again. And suddenly, neither of you could ignore it anymore. His forehead rested against yours, a frustrated sigh tumbling off his lips. 

“You should go.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to. 

“You don’t wanna come with me? Do some drop-offs?” He was tempting you, desperately wanting to spend more time in your presence, especially if it potentially ended like this again. 

You hummed, considering it. But your body was spent and the idea of being in his car and not being able to have your hands all over him at any moment you pleased sounded like torture. 

“Next time?” You posed it as a question, though the hope in Azriel’s eyes proved that he was more than happy to not only fuck you again, but to spend time with you, too. 

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

He nosed at your cheek, planting a teasing open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, nosing back up to your ear. “You look fucking breathtaking when you come.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled away, your thighs trembling as he knelt and then clambered off your bed. Azriel watched your spent body for a moment, the way your thighs rubbed together as you squirmed, no doubt still horny. 

It pained him to leave you like that, wanting more. But if he didn’t leave now, he likely never would. And that wasn’t something he could afford to do right now. 

So without another word, he bent down to press a kiss to your mouth, and then he left—still high on both the drugs and you. 

Thank you for reading and I apologise again for such a massively long wait for this chapter!!

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[inf3ct3dd]

streamer!ellie headcanons

warnings: yo no se

content : streamer!ellie headcanons 🔥🔥

authors note : the streets r calling and they’re telling me to write streamer ellie hcs….

- def started off as a faceless streamer. she wasn’t really comfortable on camera, and she just thought it would be way easier. you can only see her shoulders-down leaving her (deliciosu. scrumptious. yummy) arms in the cameras view.

- her twitch user is “creeperewman” cuz shes like…discreetly hiding her initials and referencing the best minecraft parody ever 😕!!!

- bought the most random shitty mic and webcam and started streaming 🔥🔥 she never got rid of either of them its part of her odd loser charm

“‘fartmaster69:it’s probably cuz your camera’ it’s probably bc of YOUR CAMERA!!! theres nothing wrong w my camera bro 😞”

“don’t listen to them…ur perfect 🤫 IM NOT TALKING TO U GUYS IM TALKING TO MY CAMERA”

- only had a few viewers the first couple times she streamed, and it was some random 10 yr old who kept spamming “yassss” in the chat and some dude who said she was shit at minecraft 😞 he was LYING

- started off doing minecraft speed runs (or trying to) and got like way good over time

- she randomly started getting more and more viewers, because people kept posting abt her and calling her fine on tiktok , making edits of her hands and her voice 😭😭 (real)

- as she got more and more viewers, she started branching out more with the games she’d play. def loves shooter games like cod and pubg, but she’d also play like indie horror games like faith (omg markiplier fans would know)

- she has a orange cat she named garfield (cuz…of course she does) and he’s always sitting on her lap during her streams or messing w her setup 💔💔

- def put stickers all over her headset and showed them off all proud on stream

- designed her own cute banners and stuff for streams 😞!!!

- def had a subreddit/disc server with her viewers where she’d let them give her game recs or make memes of her

- ppl saw her guitar in the back of her streams and BEGGED HER to play it and she had her own lil concert stream !!! she was so freaking nervous and messed up a bunch the first like minute or two but like after that she was in the ZONE

“‘ewswife: i wish i was that guitar’ oh!! you guys are so…kind!!!”

- when she INSANELY hit 1k, she did a face reveal and she hit 10k the same day 😦 the amount of edits that ppl made was actually insane. ESP ONES MAKING FUN OF DREAMS FACE REVEALLLL

- started doing much more random shit on stream after she got more famous. she LOVES cooking on stream, and she’d start reacting to random shit ppl sent her on the subreddit

- she cut her hair on stream once, and everyone in the chat kept spamming “yo bob…is fye” for like 5 minutes 😪

- “you’re at work watching me? i hope you get fired. i mean. i hope you don’t get fired 😞”

- she gets so many thirst comments and like…is terrible at responding to them

“‘ewleftbicep: you look so vulnerable today’ WHAT”

- she has her own apartment cuz of her awesome streaming money 🔥🔥🔥 soundproofed walls too cuz she’s. loud.

- one day, you were walking on campus to a class. you had your headphones on, listening to your main playlist on shuffle, when you got stopped by someone. you pulled your headphones off your ears and gave the man in front of you a confused look. you looked down to his hands, holding a tiny mic, and another dude holding a camera.

“what song are you listening to?” he held the microphone towards you, awaiting your response.

you quickly responded “uhm, last goodbye, by jeff buckley.” and stood there awkwardly, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

the man quickly thanked you and you walked away, slightly suprised.

- after a couple hours, the video had blown up and the comments were filled with people complimenting you.

pickleluna: jeff buckley girl is so fine

minyonlala: 3rd girl is so bad

rilakkila: I NEED JEFF BUCKLEY GIRL

and unknown to you, someone else found you on their fyp.

creeperewman: guys what is the 3rd girls @. im literally BEGGING BRO PLEASEEE

- ewleftbicep: BEING DESPERATE ON MAIN IS CRAZY

- ewsgirlf: random tiktok girl stole my wife 💔

- elliewilliamsidechick: guys im literally the 3rd girl 😂😂😂

- it didn’t take long for your phone to be blown up with people sending you the video, tagging you in funny comments, and finding your instagram. you watched the video, and saw ellie was the top comment. you checked her profile, and saw how FINE she was, and immediately responded

- y/nmainn: guys 😳😳😳 what if i was the third girl 😳😳

- ellie checked her phone and saw thousands of people tagging your comment, and she wasted zero time following you on tiktok. and your instagram. its not stalking if its in your bio, right?

- you two immediately hit it off, and ellie loved the fact that you had absolutely no idea who she was. to you, she was just some hot girl. not some famous streamer you were obsessed with.

- she didn’t even realize you two went to the same school until she saw you in her astrophysics class one day, and she almost had a heart attack when you waved at her and walked over to sit next to her.

“what a coincidence.”

- she took you out on your first date to a planetarium, and not even a week after, asked you to be her girlfriend.

- she definitely teaches you how to play her favorite games. but she gets wayyyy defensive when you beat her.

“im just letting you win.”

“beginners luck.”

but shes SO COCKY when she beats you

“hey, don’t be so hard on yourself after this. not your fault im a professional!”

“aw, maybe one day you’ll be as good as me”

- definitely helps you build your own pc.

- loves watching you play things like animal crossing or stardew valley, always lays on your shoulder while you’re on the couch.

“why are you being so mean to gaston :((“

“because hes UGLY and he has an ugly house and he’s ruining my village.”

“wowww you’re bullying a little bunny man because he doesn’t fit your aesthetic 😒 so mean”

- if you like more aggressive games like cod, she loves listening to you talk shit while you play and always makes fun of people with you. (she thinks its hot when you’re mean to people)

- her chat absolutely loves you, and every time you stream together its a continuous stream of “me and who” and “when is it my turn 😪”

[garpond]

happy birthday to neil young here are some of my favorite things about him

-by the age of 20 he had owned 3 different used hearses, all of which experienced some form of extreme mechanical failure that caused him to have to get rid of them

-in buffalo springfield whenever he had to go out on a date with a girl he'd tell his friends about it beforehand so that they could interrupt the date to tell him he needed to be somewhere and was late so that he could be allowed to leave

-hated going in grocery stores because he would get overstimulated and have to leave

-didn't like how the first pressing of Comes A Time sounded so he bought 200,000 of the first copies of it and used them as shingles for a barn roof

-when one of his tour buses was destroyed (i forget how) he had it brought to his ranch and buried on the property like a beloved family pet

-his early ambition before music was to be a chicken farmer

-when he and carrie snodgress where dating she'd have a ton of people over sometimes and it gave him anxiety so one evening he decided to open the living room window and crawl out of it to get away from people instead of walking through the room to get to the door because apparently he couldn't wait that long and everyone saw it

-another time he randomly showed up at a neighbors' house and they didn't really know why he dropped in all of the sudden because he wasn't very social and it turns out it was because his manager had set up a meeting for him with the band America and he didn't want to do it so he was hiding

-during buffalo springfield he would hide in peoples closets a lot

-once he was guitar shopping with stephen stills and when he was offering on a guitar stephen offered more money on it to try and get it and it pissed him off so he started bidding higher to kick off a bidding war between then and once it was up to a ridiculous amount of money he just dropped it and was like ok you win lol ! and stephen had to pay an insane amount of money for it

-during one filmed interview with MTV or something he decided to fuck with them by adjusting the position of his hat super slightly every couple seconds so that when they cut the footage together and shifted things out of order it would look confusingly different every time

-during the recording of deja vu he lived by himself in a motel but he brought his 2 pet bush babies (named Harriet and Speedy) and they scared the shit out of Graham Nash

-gave a stranger he met like a week ago unrestricted access to his finances because the guy claimed he was going to help him buy a boat and the guy ended up stealing a couple thousand dollars

-during last buffalo springfield concert he was the only person who was not even remotely sad and on the way home jim messina was literally crying and neil was just like :] the whole way

-one year on his birthday at the ranch there was going to be a party and it was a tradition to have a bonfire at it so he went out into the woods to get sticks for it but somehow managed to grab a bunch of poison oak and it was used at the fire and after that he was not allowed to gather bonfire sticks anymore

-while filming the lincvolt documentary he met a trans woman and when he was interviewing her to ask for her opinion about the car she told him that what he was doing with it was a big change and he should probably ask for the car's permission to do it and he actually did do this later

-"everybodys rockin" originated as an r/maliciouscompliance type of project because while he was on geffen records Old Ways was rejected and the label asked for a "rock and roll album" and this was his response to that

-the infamous Eat A Peach incident

-there is much more but this is all i can come up with rn

[lunawings]

While I was in Japan during March 2024, I was able to visit the Pretty Rhythm Rainbow Live 10th Anniversary Exhibit. This is my favorite anime of all time, so it was an incredible honor.

Unfortunately, you could not take pictures in many areas and I always try my best to be respectful and follow the rules. So, I will describe it.

The walls of the first room were covered in several tapestries depicting each individual episode of the anime, so you could reminisce about everything that happened as you slowly walked through the room. In the middle of the room, there were several exhibits perfectly recreating every single paper, notebook, sketch...

Hokkaido itinerary? Wakana and Bell's test scores? Momo's Happy Rain costume sketches? Naru and Bell's manager applications? The score to pride? Any piece of paper you can think of that appeared in PRRL, it was all HERE! Recreated with meticulous accuracy...

The next room was the photo room where you could take pictures in Prism Stone or in front of Rinne's feathers.

Something else they had here which was really neat, was all of these mini photo ops of various scenes from the anime that you could put your plushies or figures into! As I rarely have someone with me to take photos of myself at events like this, and I rarely post them even when I do, NGL I loved it. I wish I had brought something! I did have a PAF Naru on my bag I could have used, but it would have taken time to unpin her so unfortunetly I did not.

The next room contained an exhibit of various merch from throughout the years.

Unfortunately, there wasn't really much merch to look at in the classic section. Just the guitars, some stones, and the Smart Pod Shot. But I definitely think there was more than that back in the day! There has to have been because I own at least one thing that was not in here (a pool bag) haha!

They also had a REAL prism guitar on display, which apparently they are actually going to sell at some point!?

The last part of the exhibit before going to the gift shop, was a hallway with messages from all the voice actresses and the director. This was also a zone where photos were banned, but I remember in the director's he acknowledged Rainbow Live as being the only Pretty Rhythm season to achieve a 10th anniversary celebration and ended his commentary with "Glorious Pretty Rhythm" hahaha. Next was the gift shop...

Which was honestly super disappointing... I was prepared to spend a lot of money here, but in the end, I barely bought anything. Everything, EVERYTHING good was blind and the stuff that wasn't was just so expensive.

Like, they had this set of Hiro cards with his magazine covers and debut poster and I really wanted them but when I actually saw them it was like... 2,000 yen? FOR THREE CARDS!? Those tiny little cards you can see up there below the keychains?

????????????

Am I missing something!?

In the end I bought two Wakana boards and two clear files. And the one blind thing I couldn't resist was the Prism Stone badges... which turned out to be Otoha x2 and one Ann. Gah.

I also might have bought a Wakana plush doll, but she was sold out. Out of all the Rainbow Live girls she was the only one sold out both here and at Tokyo Station Prism Stone.

And here were the bonuses I got. Including, yes, the AiPri card. So for people who saw me posting it over on @pretty-idol-hell, this was where it came from.

I also got a very special letter, which I am saving to translate at a later date...

Outside the event was an up and running Pretty Rhythm machine, or so I thought. Wow, no line! I said to myself as I happily bounced up to it only to find the coin slot taped over and a sign reading it could not be used. Darn. (I know there's no prism stones left in the wild, but come on, there's no free play mode...? Well, I guess even if there was they wouldn't want people loitering around the exhibition.)

Anyway, as you read I did have a few complaints, but it still makes my heart happy that this event existed at all. I loved all the time and effort that went into making all the recreations of things!

[malanasims]

Taylor Swift Eras themed Legacy Challenge

i wanted to put together two of my favorite things: the sims and Taylor Swift. so i came up with this 10 generation legacy challenge in which each generation is inspired by a different album. I created this challenge for the sims 2 ultimate collection since that is the game i normally play, but i am sure it can be adapted for sims 3 or sims 4. i also implemented the traits project for ts2 but you can easily do the challenge without it using different personality points. i set up this challenge so that each generation alternates genders but you can switch that up. i also chose first names for each generation based on references of the album. also some of the writing is very cheesy and has a lot of references because why not go crazy. this is my first legacy challenge so if you have any critiques let me know. the rules are not strict and cheats can be used as its a story-based challenge.

Debut- Gen 1: Mary

“Take me home where we met so many years before. 

We'll rock our babies on that very front porch: After all this time, you and I”

You grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other. Your parents never had the greatest relationship and your mom was always with her best friend. Since birth you and her kid have been inseparable. Will you fall into the same patterns as your parents…or will you find a place in this world?

family/romance 

LTW: reach golden anniversary

nurturing, jealous, loves the outdoors, great kisser, family oriented

marry your first love

have 2 children (at least one son)

formal wear is a little black dress

Fearless- Gen 2: Stephen 

“You played in bars, you play guitar

I'm invisible and everyone knows who you are”

Your parents raised you well but something about the fact that they only ever knew each other scares you. You want to get out there and make a name for yourself. You know no ones coming for you on their white horse. You’ll have to be fearless to become a superstar: but for now all you have is your mothers eyes and her old guitar.

fortune/pleasure

virtuoso, charismatic, irresistible, ambitious, non-committal

LTW: become rock god

go on at least 5 first dates

have at least one daughter

date a fan

Speak now- Gen 3: Emma

“When Emma falls apart, it's when she's alone

She takes on the pain and bears it on her own”

You often felt overlooked by your rockstar father. He was always busy and you spent most of your time with your mother until her mysterious disappearance. You feel like you grew up too fast, and now you love to travel back to your youth and fantasize about castles and dragons. So you become an actress; a character. Will you break out of your fathers famously destructive patterns, or will you regain your balance on the tightrope and break out before fire can catch you?

popularity/romance

LTW: Become Icon

natural born performer, childish, bookworm, shy, hopeless romantic

your first love doesn't work out/ you break their heart

have at least one son

have a strained relationship with your father but a good relationship with your mother

meet your true love at a party and then never see eachother again

Red- Gen 4: Bobby

“How you took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out

They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere

Chose the rose garden over Madison Square”

You grew up in the starlight of your mothers fame. You two were always close but after suffering from the tabloids and the camera flashes you decide this life is not for you. You move out of the Angel City and start anew. Your mother has given you some funds and you build up a family home. You tell everyone you left because the city wasn’t right for you… but maybe it was partly to run from your playboy/girl ex who you know was trouble. Now you spend your life painting and searching for your muse. Will you stay paralyzed by time or finally begin again?

Knowledge/family

LTW: become visionary

artistic, eco friendly, night owl, loves the cold, loner

Have an on and off toxic relationship

Move out of your parents house

Settle down with someone nice

Have 3 children (at least one girl)

1989- Gen 5: Love

“You searched the world for somethin' else

To make you feel like what we had

And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad”

You grew up secluded from the world, surrounded by your mothers paintings. Your mom loved the environment but you couldn’t wait to get out of the woods and explore new places. Somewhere along the road, you fell into a rabbit hole of insanity: mascara running in the bathroom and rose gardens filled with thorns. You blow money and string lovers along. You have fantastic delusions until your wildest dreams turn into nightmares. Will you accept the help from your family and abandon your affinity for screaming, crying and perfect storms? Or will every day continue to be a battle?

knowledge/pleasure

LTW: Become space pirate

Insane, unstable, diva, adventurous, jealous

Join the adventurer career

Have 3 loves at once

Have children with multiple people (one must be boy/girl twins)

Lose money in poker

Reputation- Gen 6: Burton (the name is so bad help)

“I don't like your kingdom keys

They once belonged to me

You asked me for a place to sleep

Locked me out and threw a feast”

Yeah, your mother may have done a number on you, but who's counting? Maybe your twin sister… Everything you did, she just had to do better. In the wake of your mother’s madness, you turned to dancing. You found peace in swaying as the room burnt down. Your twin sister on the other hand hated how you were lit up every room you walked into, but you couldn’t help it. There's nothing she hates more than what she can't have… so she turned to sabotage. Just when you think that your life is perfect- you're at the top of your career and you finally found love- your sister starts a rumor that you cheated on your love. Your reputation as a famous dancer goes down in seconds. But to your surprise, your lover isn't reading what they call you lately and your relationship is stronger than ever. Will you get revenge on your sister and become exactly what you despise, or sit back and let karma take over?

Popularity/romance

LTW: Become world class ballerina

Party animal, irresistible, social butterfly, hot headed, unlucky

Be enemies with your twin sister

Never be unfaithful

Have a bad reputation

Have at least one daughter

Lover- Gen 7: Cornelia

“I’d be a fearless leader, I'd be an alpha type

When everyone believes ya, what's that like?”

You've always known you wanted to change the world. Who cares if you were overlooked and discouraged. Snakes and stones won’t break your bones. You never had a big family as your father walked away from his. Sometimes it gets lonely trusting the wicked, and your loyalty was often a fault. You turn to politics to combat your feelings of helplessness, but no one takes you seriously and you feel lost in the light. You have to start from the ground up with the help of your best friend. You start to build your picture-perfect life: the kids, the lyrical smiles and the power. Will you drive away your lover by searching for their dark side, or will you put aside your ways and find the daylight?

Popularity/family

LTW: Become mayor

Good, easily impressed, brave, unlucky, perfectionist

Fall in love with your best friend

Have 10 best friends

Have children (at least one son)

Folklore- Gen 8: James

“I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back

I have a lot of regrets about that”

You grew up trying to meet the expectations of your politician mother. Everything had to be picture perfect, even your private life. So she set you up with the daughter of one of the most powerful families in town, Betty. At first you are skeptical, but over time you fall for her integrity and affinity for old cardigans. Along the way you begin to feel stuck, tired of the sensual politics and your mother’s watchful eye. That's when you meet August -the polar opposite of Betty- and some part of you has to know what she is like. You meet in parking lots and dive bars, but after Betty finds out, you realize that summer is dwindling. In wake of losing two girls, you turn to writing: poetry and sad prose. You get lost in your stories, but once you start to gain traction, you can’t help but wonder how different your life could have been. Will you rekindle your wild flame with August or go back to the peace you felt with Betty?

knowledge/ romance

LTW: Publish 5,000$ best seller*

Great kisser, coward, bookworm, brooding, commitment issues

Fall in love with Betty

Fall in love with August

Confess to cheating on Betty

Write novels

Move into a cottage by a lake

Finally choose the one girl

Have at least one daughter with her

Evermore- Gen 9: Ivy

“And the skeletons in both our closets

Plotted hard to fuck this up

And the old men that I’ve swindled

Really did believe I was the one”

You always resented your father because he abandoned the good life for a cottage in the woods and his stories. You don’t want that; you want power and wealth. You don't need love, just a fancy car. So you turn to crime, because it’s easy for you; you love the gold rush. You con men and no one will ever prove it. You marry rich men and inherit their money when their time runs out. But then one day you meet your match, a fellow criminal, and wonder if this life will really bring you happiness. But you realized this a little too late, and now you're forced to drink your husband's wine… but he was the wrong guy. Will you leave the life of crime behind or will you stay frozen in time?

Fortune/pleasure

LTW: Gold digger

Kleptomaniac, genius, charismatic, mean-spirited, rebellious

Go into the criminal career

Marry a rich sim

Fall in love with a criminal and have an affair

Have a son

Midnights- Gen 10: Snow

“And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shit again”

You knew your mom wasn’t the most ethically-correct person. You like to think you inherited her better half; but that isn’t entirely true. You are determined to be different, so you become a spy; you get the satisfaction of working for the good guys and the pleasure that comes with great wars. Being a spy is difficult though, and you never know when things could go wrong. You are constantly burning files and deserting old lives. But you’re a mastermind, nobody can deny that. You finally meet your perfect person, but it's hard concealing your true occupation from them. You have money and respect… But can all of that pay for someone to just know you?

Fortune/knowledge

LTW: Become head of the SCIA

Perceptive, disciplined, loner, proper, daredevil

Join the intelligence career

Move homes at least twice

The rest is up to you since it is the last generation 

*50 new LTW mod can be found here

if anyone decides to do this challenge tag me! i'd love to see it

[rajbow4ever]

my rajbow hcs, copy and pasted straight from my tt cz what else do i post...

(some of these are in full grammar for some reason?? idk all of these were from various middle-of-the-night decisions)

raj: did figure skating for a while when he was younger but stopped because people called him un-manly

bowie: tries to persuade him to try it again

raj: goes to stroke every stray animal he finds on the street

bowie: 'babe that probably has 20 diseases...' lets him do it anyway because he wants to see raj smile

raj: can talk about his interests for hours at a time

bowie: thinks its the cutest thing ever and loves to listen

bowie: owns one of those small business jewelry shops online

raj: learnt how to make little beaded bracelets for it

bowie: naturally very good with instruments

raj: doesnt even know how to hold a guitar

raj: got banned from his local arcade for raging at a claw machine

bowie: claw machine pro (gives 80% of the prizes he gets to raj)

bowie: loves pointless internet debates like how many holes are in a straw

raj: doesn't understand a single one of them

raj: didnt think narwhals were real because they're like 'unicorns of the sea'

bowie: had to search them up to prove they existed

raj: chronic weezer fan (same raj same)

bowie: listens to whatever's popular most of the time, but he listens to a lot of upbeat stuff

raj: is able to notice if bowie gets stuck in his thoughts

bowie: is able to notice if raj is stressed about something

raj: Gives Bowie cool rocks he finds.

bowie: Keeps. Every. Single. One.

raj: Was shocked to find out most people can't down five burgers after a simple hockey game.

bowie: Is just ever-so-slightly terrified.

raj: Sleeps at 9pm, wakes up at 5am - but them goes back to sleep and waked again randomly.

bowie: Sleeps at 4am, wakes up at 10am.

bowie: Took Raj to watch one of his basketball games.

raj: Was just staring, absolutely ENAMOURED, IN AWE at him the whole time.

raj: Scared of birds (cassowary incident).

bowie: Scared of spiders.

raj: Attacks every spider he sees.

bowie: Scares away every bird he sees.

raj: Surprisingly a very good cook, but is banned from the microwave.

bowie: Also a very good cook (is not banned from the microwave).

bowie: Bought Raj star-shapes sunglasses to match with his heart-shaped ones.

raj: They became his most prized possessions ever.

raj: uses stupid words like "coolio" and "awesomesauce"

bowie: "what the FUCK are you saying"

raj: incredibly tactile, loves physical affection

bowie: always initiates it because he knows how much raj love it

bowie: worries sometimes because he thinks he's 'ruining raj'

raj: took after some of bowie's snark

bowie: is good at skating, but falls over a lot so he continues to do it just for fun

raj: genuine pro at skating, if you name it as long as it's on ice he can probably do it

bowie: monopoly demon. takes the money from everyone, wins everything

raj: fairest monopoly player ever but is incredibly competitive

raj: struggles with panic attacks every now and then, wayne usually helps but he's started letting bowie see him vulnerable too

bowie: taught him fancy breathing techniques (that i don't trust myself to name)

they play 2 player princess tycoon on roblox together

bowie: kills everyone

raj: actually does the tycoon

bowie: is a big fan of horror movies but screams every time something even slightly scary happens

raj: is terrified of horror movies but watches them with bowie (he hopes that bowie will get scared and latch onto him)

raj: hates talking to the waiters when ordering food

bowie: does it for him

bowie: had an emo phase when he was way younger

raj: found his old emo clothes "HOLY SHIT??"

raj: believes in ghosts n that stuff

bowie: thinks its the most stupid thing ever (secretly believes in them)

thank you for listening to my ted talk. next post scheduled for 2025 i think

[sirfrogsworth]

It's weird the things that come back to you out of the blue.

When I was 16 I met a fellow named Mitch from Canada. He moved to St. Louis and started going to my school.

He stole my first girlfriend. Can you believe that?

We were together for 3 entire months. I WAS IN LOVE!

And he just... stole her... with his Canadian wiles.

Canadian wiles include: Extensive knowledge of mooses, perfect lyrical recall of every Barenaked Ladies song, casually mentioning that Alanis Morissette went to the same elementary school, ability to lactate maple syrup from nipples

Mostly, she thought he was cool because he wore a leather jacket and could play the guitar.

I was very upset and tried cursing him with ancient frog magic. Me and my friends would give him serious evil eye whenever passing him in the halls. He was very confused what that was all aboot.

"Americans are weird." *shrug* --Mitch, probably

But then she dumped him for another fellow after 3 months. And we realized no one stole anything, she just didn't like feeling attached to anyone at the time. Which is probably a decent attitude for a 16 year old, but it still hurt like the dickens.

Mitch and I commiserated over lost love at Denny's. We became fast friends and he started teaching me to play guitar.

I was quickly hooked and saved up my Best Buy paychecks to buy my own guitar (and a leather jacket). It was a beautiful orange sunburst Fender acoustic with a cutaway and Fishman piezo pickup.

See it on the right?

Gotta have that cutaway for extra reach during guitar solos. Because everyone loves acoustic guitar solos played by a teenager that only knows one pentatonic scale.

I was the Lil Wayne of the late 90s.

As I was learning all my chords and scales like a good little guitar noob, a song called "What It's Like" by Everlast became super popular. He played the song on all the talk shows and he used the exact same guitar.

I was so stoked.

"The guy on the TV has my guitar!"

Honestly, I don't know why a wealthy musician chose a $600 guitar to tour with, but I was still proud.

I used to baby that thing like crazy. I would polish it with special guitar polish that was probably just furniture polish in a different bottle and marked up $10. I always kept it snugly inside a hardshell case. I would change the strings way too often. And every 3 months I would take it to the shop to get it "setup" and the guy would always say...

"You know you don't really need to do this so often unless it's going out of tune or the action is out of whack." And I was like, "The first fret buzzes when I play an F!" And he's like, "Learn to play an F better." And I was like, "Do you want my money or not?"

I even bought this humidifier gadget that you put inside the case with the guitar. I have no idea if that did anything, but that guitar is still in wonderful shape 25 years later and I bet those 3 years of intense humidity and 12 superfluous setups are the reason why.

I moved on to better guitars eventually. But you never forget your first. And I am so glad I never sold it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

"okay, but in my defense, you shouldn't have left me alone." - Eddie 'no impulse control' Munson

I absolutely love this and I think this should be on his gravestone tbh

Government money was great, but it was a little overwhelming to know so much money was sitting in his bank account.

If Wayne hadn't gotten his own to buy a new house, he would have given most of it to him so he could retire, but Wayne wouldn't allow it.

He bought a new guitar, bought another used van after his got taken in for evidence and couldn't be released, even bought himself Metallica tickets.

But that barely scratched the surface of what they gave him.

Steve used some of his to buy Robin a car (somehow in the mix, she'd only been given enough to cover medical bills from her very short visit to the ER) and enrolled in community college.

Steve would never buy something for himself unless it was necessary.

So, Eddie did it for him.

He used a pretty good decent chunk of money and bought him a house.

It was small, only two bedrooms, and on the outskirts of town.

It had a pool, thought a much smaller one than the Harrington house.

It also had a beautiful garden in the front, and plenty of places to put some lawn chairs for guests to hang out.

He blindfolded Steve the day after he closed on it, drove him to the house, and made him stand right in the middle of the road to look at it all.

He removed the blindfold.

Steve stared at the house.

"What's this? Did you buy a house?"

"I did."

"Well, it looks great. Do you need help decorating or moving?"

"The house isn't for me. No wait. It kind of us. I technically bought it for you, but was hoping I could live with you?"

Steve stared at the house again.

"You bought me a house."

"I bought us a house."

"What the hell?"

"In my defense, you shouldn't have left me alone with large amounts of money."

"I wasn't the one who did!"

"The government did. And now we have a house."

"I already have a house, Eds."

"But you hate it. It's too big. This is perfect."

Steve thought about it, Eddie could see him weighing every pro and con he could think of.

"Give me a tour of our house, then."

[riaaanna]

INTERVIEW WITH BRIAN MAY - GUITAR & BASS JANUARY 2008

Affable, funny and knowledgeable, Brian May always gives – as our American cousins say – ‘good interview’. With his much-publicised degree in astrophysics finally done and dusted, he agreed to meet Guitar & Bass for an exclusive chat. We decided to steer him towards explaining the inside secrets of that famous guitar sound, but we took in some diversions along the way – including just what it felt like to play the biggest rooftop gig of all time…

G&B: Keeping busy then?

Not too bad – I’ve still got a head full of astrophysics at the moment, but I’ll wrench it round to talk about guitars! I’ve been rewriting my thesis after a 30-year gap, which has been tough, but I’ve got the doctorate now. I’ll be glad to get my life back, really!

Well then, Dr Brian May… how did you get into guitar? Was it always electrics?

No – for my seventh birthday I asked for an acoustic guitar and I had the Josh White Guitar Method book that came with it. I played acoustic for quite a few years. It was good, because that way I had a solid grounding in rhythm. I used to sing and play, and it was only a few years later, at about 14, that I started getting into lead guitar.

How did that come about?

The first time I went electric, as it were, was when I wound my own pickup. I figured all you needed was some magnets and a bit of wire, so I went to Kingston and got some Eclipse magnets and wound a lot of 48-gauge copper wire round them. Then I connected it up to my dad’s homemade hi-fi amp and, lo and behold, it worked! I’d invented the pickup… but Les Paul had got there first.

Was it a humbucker or a single coil?

A single coil. I didn’t discover humbuckers until last year. It made a particularly wonderful sound, and one that I’ve never quite been able to get back to. But I’m happy with the sound I’ve been able to develop over the years.

What was your firsts amplifier?

That came quite a lot later, because we had no money. That was what dictated my development – we made the guitar because we couldn’t afford to buy one. I didn’t get an amp until I was about 17. I went out and bought something, maybe an early Burns transistor amp, and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t make it do what my dad’s hi-fi amp would do, but I quickly discovered that valves were where it’s at. So I traded in the Burns for a valve amp that was somewhat better. But to cut a long story short, I went to see Rory Gallagher at the Marquee Club one night – and Rory had the sound that I was looking for. I just completely fell in love with it. I loitered around after the show to ask him how he got his sound, and Rory, being a real gentleman – I was only a kid and he was a star – told me “Well, Brian, it’s basically the AC30, and I have this little treble booster, it’s a Rangemaster. That’s what makes it sing.” So the very next day I went out scouring the secondhand shops for an AC30 and a Rangemaster. As soon as I had ‘em, my sound was born – a combination of that and my own guitar, basically what I still use today.

What was it about Rory Gallagher’s sound that inspired you?

Rory was like me, he played rhythm and lead at the same time – it was only a three-piece band. He was able to make chords sound really good, not horribly distorted, but the single notes would sing like a violin. He had a Strat, though, and I’ve never been able to make a Strat work for me – but with my guitar, which as quite a bit more middle, the AC30 seems even better. And now we know why – or at least, I think we do.

There are so many different ideas on why valves might work better than transistors.

My dad had a point of view on that. He was quite an electronics genius, and he figured it out. He said the reason valves work so well is that they go smoothly into saturation as opposed to suddenly from a straight line, which is what transistors do, and that the way to get the best sound from them is to take away all the negative feedback, which makes a very good hi-fi amplifier but stops the overload curve being as smooth. If you can make it go smoothly into overload, that’s really the basis of a great guitar sound, whether you’re talking about Marshalls, Fenders, or Voxes. It’s really the valves and electrolytics [filter capacitors – Ed] that you’re hearing.

Is it an area between clean and dirty you’re looking for?

Exactly, that’s the crucial area for me. I have to be able to get clarity in the chord work but still get that fatness in the notes. The AC30’s special in that way because it works the valves in class A, so there’s no inherent distortion at low levels. You have a smooth straight line at low levels giving you that clarity, then it turns over gently into saturation and there’s that beautiful sustain we all need.

Which of your tracks give the best example?

Tie Your Mother Down has both parts, the chord sound and the lead sound. I’m fond of Bijou - there’s a little bit of extra treatment from the desk, but it’s still fundamentally my sound underneath. All that nice lush guitar – I was able to spend a lot of time on it making sure that the strings vibrated in just the right way. It’s not just the guitar and the amp, it’s down to how you play it. The way that you pluck it can make a huge difference to the sound. There’s a way I have of plucking that you can hear on Bohemian Rhapsody, particularly towards the end, where the finger pulls the string gently to one side and lets it go so it vibrates pretty much parallel to the fingerboard. It makes that very pure sound. Those are some of my favourites.

So playing technique is as important to your signature sound as gear and guitars?

If someone picks up a guitar you can always tell who they are by just listening, because everybody’s technique is different. I noticed that with Hank Marvin, when we were working together a few years ago. People think he’s all about a wonderful guitar and a wonderful amp, but really he sounds like he does because he’s Hank. He played my guitar, and it still sounded like him. I think that’s why the guitar’s such a great expressive instrument, because a certain amount does come through it consciously, but something also comes through unconsciously that says a lot about the person who’s playing it and how they’re feeling at the time.

Do you need to be inspired to play well?

Definitely. There’s a whole lot of difference between someone playing well technically and playing like they mean it.

When did you get your first Vox amplifier?

During 1967, I think. I bought two, secondhand in Wardour street. We still have them somewhere. Later on, we bought them at quite a rate – some current ones but also some secondhand ones, because we figured the older ones had a particular sound to them. Really, though, it was just a question of suck it and see. I just used to plug in and listen, with no theory to it at all. If it sounds good, it is good. It’s still true!

What about other effects?

I customised some Echoplexes myself very early on. I was into electronics, so I made new boxes and added some pickups to make long delays and short ones. That’s how the Echoplex solo began, the Brighton Rock solo. But they were dodgy on the road, as you can imagine. I wouldn’t have liked to be my roadie at the time, but they got by! I had so many problems, though – it was like walking a tightrope every night. It was astonishing they worked at all. Later we were able to replace them with digital delays, which is what we use now.

Is your present sound very different to the sound you got in the old days?

In some ways. The problem with off-the-shelf amps on the road is always reliability, and most of my amps have been rebuilt to be more robust, hardwired and with various modifications. I’d have to mention Dave Petersen at this point – Dave’s responsible for a lot of the work that’s made the amps so reliable these days, and has also made them capable of reproducing a certain sound, because that was always very variable in the past, depending on the age of the valves and what state the electronics were in. the other thing is simplification, because original Voxes had a lot of things I didn’t need, like a Tremolo channel and a Brilliant channel. We stripped out everything that wasn’t necessary that was using up power and quality, just leaving the bare essentials with no frills. It’s quite significant improvement, and Vox have made a special Brian May signature edition which incorporates these improvements. It’s something rather different from the standard AC30, one knob as opposed to many – that’s all you need to get my sort of sound! They work very well.

Are you still using the little Deacy battery practive amp?

Yes, in the studio it’s still absolutely incomparable, although I have to say that Greg Fryer has now got incredibly close with the new version he’s making. But I gather there’s now some guy in the States about to bootleg them, which I’m upset about because you put so much work into these things and it doesn’t seem right that someone can just come up and steal it. I don’t see any need for that – he’s also making Brian May guitars, without permission. But the Deacy amp usually turns up trumps, quite magical really, and I still use it a lot. John played it once, on a song called Misfire. He played guitar; he wanted to do it so I just watched him get on with it, and he made a very good job of it. With his permission I added some bits of guitar at the end, a little bit of icing on his cake.

Were Queen like the Beatles – always doubling up on each other’s instruments?

A bit. Everybody played guitar at some point!

Did you every play any bass parts yourself?

I did, but generally I liked to let Deacy do the final version, because he was better. Certainly Roger played pretty good guitar, and Deacy of course, and Freddie also played on a few songs, mainly on acoustic. He did the original solo on Crazy Little Thin, on a version that got lost, and I had to redo it. He was very good in a particular style of his own. He did play electric onstage – he used to do Crazy Little Thing on a Telecaster which got stolen from the warehouse when we stopped playing. Somewhere, Freddie’s white Telecaster is sitting on a wall. I’d recognise it… but I’m not going to tell anybody how!

The Red Special: any close competitors?

Only the ones we’re making ourselves. Brian May Guitars is now a separate company. I’m in a partnership with Barry Moorhouse; Barry, Pete Malandrone my tech and myself are Brian May Guitars, and we’re directly in charge of the manufacturing now. The quality is zooming up, we’re very pleased with them at the moment, and we’re also making a Japanese range that will be a bit more expensive – and that’s very exciting, too. That’ll be even closer to my original.

We saw a Burns version of your guitar a while back, and the vibrato didn’t work as well as your original. Are the new ones better?

The Burns was a very early attempt, and the trem was a compromise, otherwise it would cost an arm and a leg. We have a much better trem now, with a lot less friction – much closer to mine in feel.

Would you be happy to use those on stage?

Absolutely, and I have done. I use a variety now. Andrew Guyton’s done some fabulous copies for me, including one with a scalloped fingerboard, but I’m not quite confident on stage with it yet. It requires great delicacy, and if you press too hard it goes out of tune. But it gives you great fluidity and no friction whatsoever between the fingers and the board. Ritchie Blackmore invented it, I believe, many years ago – he had a Strat with all the frets scooped out, and Steve Vai also had one, I think.

What gear do they use in We Will Rock You?

Off-the-shelf Brian May guitars, but we usually do some special setting up on them, or else they do it themselves. They’re free to customise them any way they want – particularly my friend Paul Crook in the States, he’s done a fantastic custom job on his… one of the best that’s ever existed. The London show has my customised A30s with separate cabs to give a bit more control in the Dominion theatre. I think the other shows around the world use a mixture of AC30s and smaller Voxes – still bona-fide Vox valve amps, but a bit more controllable.

Has the perfect Vox amp ever been built?

Mmm… the Brian May signature model was very close, but I’d like to do another one with input from Dave and Greg, and all the benefit of our more recent experience. So I believe there could be one more, which could be even better.

Tell us about that Buckingham Palace rooftop gig. What was the technical story behind it?

I used three amps. It was an incredible blast. I stood up there with three tip-top Vox amps in front of me, the centre and the first and second returns from the chorus, and that sounded beautiful, very huge and smooth. Then behind me was a huge monitor with the orchestra in it. I had to balance the two by moving my head. It was an incredible sensation, a bit like going down the fastest bit in Space Mountain – the same feeling right in the pit of your stomach.

You hid the nerves pretty well…

When I’d finished, I thought I’d never be frightened of anything again! So many problems, with the orchestra a few hundred yards away… but if I’d been able to hear them there’d have been a problem because of the delay. I couldn’t see the conductor past a TV monitor, and even that didn’t work until half an hour before the thing was due to start. It was very scary. A million things could have happened outside my control – a broken string, temperature changes putting me out of tune – anything, in front of a million people, live, and I would have looked a complete idiot. But as soon as the roof bit was over, the rest was a doodle. I was beaming the whole time because it had worked!

You made the national news…

The international news, in fact. But I’m not doing it again, although I’m glad I did. It’s had some strangely negative comments recently, which I find odd. But I’ll stand by it to my dying day, because I defy anyone else to do what I did. It wasn’t just a question of going up there and playing the tune, either… there was a whole orchestra arrangement that I did for the fanfare that the BBC and the world used for the opening of the concert – most people probably don’t realise that – and there’s also the piece in the middle that I also arranged for the orchestra., and then on top of that a whole outro section that made the climax of the piece. It involved a certain amount of improvisation and I had to really know where the parameters were, not to take too many risks. If anyone thinks that it was easy or it was crap, I’d defy them to do something similar!

It’s hard to avoid making comparisons with Jimi’s Star Spangled Banner.

It was different, but comparable in terms of risk. There are places you can go in music if you’re prepared to take your courage in both hands – Hendrix did a lot of that, and I’m proud to have done a bit of it. But there was a lot more forethought in mine, because I’m that kind of person. I like to improvise, but I also like to prepare. There were lots of other people involved and we all had to be on our toes. Ray Cooper [percussionist] was fabulous on that occasion. He went through all the rehearsals with me and was really a huge support and magnificent on the day. But it was probably the most – how can I put this – terrifying prospect I’ve ever faced professionally, because it was so hard to make it work.

To come full circle, now your doctorate’s done, will you be taking up the guitar again?

Yes… I’m thinking of taking up the guitar! Seriously, the Ph.D’s been tough for me – I had to ditch everything – but I’ll certainly be enjoying the music even more, because I’ve been deprived of it.

Any more tours in sight?

I don’t know about Brian May Band tours, but you may see Queen on the road next year. We’re definitely talking in that direction at the moment.

Are you looking forward to it?

Yes, I have to confess I am. There’s always slightly mixed feelings because you have to lose your private life for a while. That gets tougher as you get older – I certainly value my private life very highly, spending time with the family and doing all the other things I enjoy. But there’s nothing quite like being on stage, doing what we do. I think Roger, Paul Rodgers and I will be looking at putting something together for next year.

We’re looking forward to that. We’ve missed you during your ‘time off’.

Ah, thanks! You know, I’ve missed me too!

[lovelytsunoda]

gimme! gimme! gimme! ( a man after midnight ) // marcus armstrong

summary: after graduating college and moving back home to sebring, florida to live with her parents, y/n becomes infatuated with the young man from new zealand who just moved in across the street

pairing: marcus armstrong x female! reader

warnings: money troubles, moving back in with the parents and losing the independence that comes with being a college student living on your own, parental expectations, difficult sibling relationship, implied smut,

author's note: why did it take me this long to write for marcus my beloved? i also kind of hate the ending but i wasn't sure where to end it soooooo

the sebring sun beat down against the road, heat waves visibly radiating off the pavement as y/n turned down on to the street where she grew up.

a street she swore she'd never come back to, until she realized that she couldn't afford to live anywhere else.

her manicured fingers tapped against the steering wheel in rapid succession as the bass guitar thrumming from the asking alexandria album she was listening to completely shook the chassis of her pickup truck.

well, her dad's old pickup truck.

a new car wasn't an expense that she could afford while she was away at school. but she loved that old truck like her life depended on it, right down to the squishy silicone alien bobblehead that sat on the dashboard, the stack of cd's that rested in the center console, the truck itself too old for bluetooth.

she turned on to her interlock driveway, defeatedly parking the truck behind her mother's five year old mercedes. she had just bought that car when y/n went off to school.

the y/l/n's weren't poor by any means: they still had money for family vacations, renovations on the house, to send their daughter to university. but they lived within their means, which meant budgeting out what was necessary and important and what was not.

and sometimes that meant making sacrifices. like moving back with your parents and younger sister after finishing your higher education pathway.

now she had a diploma, but no job, no house, no boyfriend and no prospects.

she cut the engine, deciding that it was better just to rip the band aid off now as she leaped from the cab of the truck, grabbed her backpack from the back seat and began the walk of shame to the front door.

"hey, mom." she said with a small, sad smile as her mother opened the front door, engulfing her in a warm, motherly embrace that made the smile on y/n's face grow a little happier.

"welcome home, sweetheart. let me go find your father and we'll help you bring your things inside."

ten minutes later, the y/l/n family, with the exception of y/n's sister shiloh, who was nowhere to be found, stood on the driveway with a foldable wagon cart from costco, unloading cardboard boxes and massive plastic tupperware containers from the flatbed of the old ford truck.

as nice as it was to be home, she felt like she was losing her independence.

she stacked a cardboard box in the cart before pressing up on her tip toes and leaning back to stretch her arms and her back, limbs still stiff from the drive in from tampa.

she paused to take a look around the neighborhood, taking in how much it had all changed. house prices had skyrocketed in the last ten years, and now the houses in the area were almost triple the price that her father had paid in the early nineties when he first bought the house.

but what really stuck out to her was the bright red high end mercedes amg sports car that sat in the driveway of the house across the street. the house that once belonged to the nice old woman that babysat y/n and shiloh when they were kids.

"who bought the noonan house?"

her father stopped moving boxes to look over at the house across the street. "oh, his name is marcus. great young man, he's about your age."

"he's my age and he can afford a house, while i have to move back in with you lot? that's absolutely fucking great." y/n groaned, looking back at the house. "and that car is at least three times the cost of mom's, and that's without the upgrade package."

her dad shrugged. "If you had taken my advice and gone into trades, that could have been you, kiddo."

"oh, fuck off."

"hey, watch your language." her mom warned, taking a tupperware container up to the front door. "he's a sweet, hardworking young man."

"what does he do for work?"

"he works in the automotive industry."

"and that's why you like him so much." she sighed, grabbing the handle of the wagon and following her mother back up to the house.

her father had always had big expectations for her. cars were the family legacy: her father's father had been the groundskeeper at sebring international speedway. her father had worked the assembly line at chevrolet before retiring and opening his own garage where he restored custom cars as a side hustle. she had been expected to also go into the automotive trade, as the son her father never had.

but that hadn't been what she wanted, as much as she loved cars. she'd been watching endurance races at sebring since before she could walk, and she learned how to use a monkey wrench before she learned what a curling iron did. her real calling was business. the four years of human resources training, and the diploma that had been mailed to her house had proven that.

she wasn't sure if her father had even hung it up anywhere.

she walked down the hallway, gingerly opening the pristine white door to her childhood bedroom. the walls were still painted the same pale purple, cluttered with canvasses that she had painted years ago, a twin bed in the middle of the room with a white down comforter and a pile of build a bears resting against the pillows.

"welcome home, y/n." she sighed to herself.

--------

three days later, the only peace that she could get was outside with the cicadas and the mosquitos. given sebring's proximity to the everglades, there was no small number of pests hovering in the muggy summer air as y/n pulled her hair back and popped open the hood of the pickup truck. there was a ratchet in her back pocket and a cropped, grease-stained white tank top.

any color darker than that and she feared she would get heat stroke.

she leaned over the engine, radio playing in the background as she began to fight with the engine's glow plugs, which she had been meaning to replace for almost a week.

"stupid fucking glow plugs. they're the easiest thing to replace, he said. it's easier to do it yourself, he said. well, why don't you fucking do it yourself, father dearest." she muttered, losing grip on the ratchet again and trying not to kick at the tyres. "motherfucker."

her head was still under the hood when the guest came strolling up her driveway.

"do you need help with that?"

"no, i don't need help, especially not from a man." she snapped, turning to look at the man standing across from her. "i can change a glow plug myself, thank you very much."

the man smirked. "well, i don't even know what a glow plug is, so you already know more than me."

withdrawing from the engine block, she twirled the ratchet in her hands as she turned to look at the man. "where's that accent from?"

"new zealand. i'm marcus, i live across the street."

she narrowed her eyes. this kiwi beanpole was the man that her father was so entranced with? this beanpole who didn't even know what a glow plug was worked in the automotive industry?

"y/n. my father speaks highly of you." she nodded in the direction of marcus' house. "you bought the noonan house? mrs. noonan was my babysitter, you know. from when i was five until i was fifteen. i loved that old woman."

"your dad did all the interior work for me. he's a craftsman, that's for sure." marcus nodded along. "back from uni for a few weeks?"

she'd deny it if you asked, but that statement cut deep. what hurt even more was that she would have to admit to him that she was moving back in with her parents. that she couldn't afford to maintain her independence, stand on her own two feet.

"actually, i just moved back home for good. i can't afford to move out." she sighed, moving to sit on the front steps of the house. "i forgot how hard my family was to live with. i've only been home for three days and i swear i've come this close to strangling shiloh. have you met shiloh yet?"

marcus laughed. "she's a firecracker. i don't think she likes me very much."

y/n grinned, inviting marcus to sit next to her. "she's sixteen. i don't think she likes anybody. ever since she dyed her hair black and got her nose pierced, she's been a different person. a person that i don't know how to relate to any more."

"i'm sure she'll come around. my sister is like, the complete opposite of me. paris thinks i'm full of shit half the time, but we love each other still. i know paris will always be there for me, and i'll always be there for paris."

y/n gestured at the car in marcus' driveway. "so how does a guy like you afford an amg and a three bedroom family home? because you sure as hell don't work in the automotive industry."

marcus raised an eyebrow, a small gesture that made her stomach do somersaults for reasons she couldn't explain. "what makes you so sure?"

"you didn't even know what a glow plug is. all diesel engines need them to run. i learned that when i was twelve years old, you would have learned in high school auto shop. so what do you really do? stripping? black market drugs?"

the kiwi laughed, throwing his head back. "i'm a podcaster, and i work in racing. telling your dad i worked in the auto industry seemed like the best way to get on his good side. he's a good contractor."

racing. something that once brought her so much joy but now left a bad taste in her stomach. she hadn't been to the speedway since she moved out.

"racing is in my blood. i was raised at the track because my grandfather was the groundskeeper. i remember watching the indycar race on his shoulders when i was seven years old, a chip ganassi hat that was three sizes too big resting on my head. i couldn't see a thing." she smiled at the memory. "my dad worked the assembly line at chevy, with some contracting on the side once he learned my mom was expecting me. after he retired he started restoring custom cars part-time, and i think he always hoped that i'd take on the family business with him."

"and you didn't?" marcus seemed surprised. obviously he expected that the girl in the skimpy top and cutoff shorts and the astrology tattoo on the inside of her wrist who cursed like a sailor when things didn't go her way would feel right at home in a garage, ratchet in her hand and wrench in her back pocket.

"i went into human resources. i couldn't stay in a garage all day, breathing in grease and lead paint day in and day out, wondering if things could have been different."

"do you regret it?"

she sighed, biting her bottom lip in a motion that sent a rush of energy through marcus' body. "i don't know yet."

as the silence became awkward, y/n got to her feet again, reaching out a hand to help marcus up. "come on, you're going to learn about glow plugs today."

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

"shiloh, can you keep it down?" y/n shouted, staring numbly at the resume on her computer screen. nobody told her that she'd be graduating without a single prospective job offer, and now she was scrambling to find a proper hr job, otherwise she'd end up working the counter at white castle.

she was in the basement, at the table she used to use to finish assignments in high school. the floor, once shining hardwood, was now adorned with rice mats for her sister, who was currently cycling through her second workout video, the basement filled with the younger girl's grunts and the sounds of weights knocking against the padded floor.

"i'm trying to do my workout." shiloh answered coolly. "i have a tournament in three weeks."

"i don't give a fuck, shiloh, i'm trying to find a job so that i don't have to live with mom and dad until im thirty years old."

shiloh rolled her eyes, turning back to her kettle bell weights. "they're always hiring at sonic burger."

"i'm not working in fast food for the rest of my life, jackass! i spent thousands of dollars trying to get this goddamn degree and now i can't even use it for anything!"

"should have listened to dad and gone into the trades. maybe you aren't trying hard enough."

"shut the fuck up, shiloh!"

"girls!" mrs. y/l/n called. "what is going on down here?"

shiloh pause her youtube video, getting to her feet. despite the four years between them, shiloh towered over her older sister, and was often confused for the older one. "y/n keeps interrupting my workout."

y/n gawked. "i was here first! and i'm trying to get a job, at the only damn desk in this house, and shiloh can't even give me ten minutes of peace because it's 'her routine' and i'm 'being disruptive'."

"well, your sister's workout is important. she's a high performance athlete."

"i don't give a shit, mom!"

"language, y/n! go upstairs and work at the dining room table, stop fighting with your sister. you've only been back home for a week!"

"yeah, ande it's like you don't have space for me here anymore!" y/n shouted, slamming her laptop shut and running up the basement stairs, trying not to cry.

this is the last way she expected her life after college to go: hunting for jobs in her moms basement, her sister telling her that she wasn't trying hard enough to get hired anywhere other than a fast food restaurant who would hire anybody off the streets during the busy months.

she couldn't even stand to be in that house, walking right out the front door and striding across the street to the noonan house without even looking to see if there were any cars on the road.

she walked past the mercedes, hand curled into a fist as she knocked on the front door, hoping and praying that a certain podcaster was home.

"y/n?" marcus' voice was soft and concerned after he opened the front door. "what are you doing here?"

"can i get some work done here? i'm trying to fix my resume so that i don't end up working at white castle for the rest of my life and i can't get anything done with shiloh around."

“of course,” marcus laughed “I’ll open a bottle of aperol spritz?”

"god, yes!" she breathed out, stepping into marcus' front hall and slipping out of her flip flops before she followed him into a large open concept main room, a kitchen island running down the middle. the back wall had been all replaced with sets of french doors that were more window than door, letting light into the bright, modern space.

"you're house is incredible. i don't think mrs. noonan updated this place since the sixties."

marcus chuckled, grabbing a glass wine bottle from the counter. "don't i know it. the master bathroom still had a green toilet. a green bloody toilet."

"oh god." y/n laughed, sitting at the island and opening her laptop. "can i trouble you for the wifi password?"

once marcus got her hooked up to the internet, she pulled up her cv, looking at the sad, small list of qualifications she had. she'd been lucky enough that she hardly ever had to work over the summer or in high school. everything on her resume were the community service hours she was required to get to graduate secondary school and the one paid position she did for the town of sebring three years ago.

"i'm never going to get a fucking job, am i?" she groaned quietly as marcus passed her a wine glass filled halfway with aperol spritz. "i'm going to be working a fast food counter at an all night mcdonalds."

"you could always work for me." marucs shrugged. "not to brag, but i just signed a major indycar deal with chip ganassi and i'm trying to expand my team, both with podcasting and racing."

"hang on, podcasting and racing?" y/n blinked, looking up from the screen, blue light still glowing onto her floral patterned shirt. "you're a racing driver? you could have mentioned that!"

marcus laughed as y/n reached over the counter to swat at his arm. "what? i assumed you would have googled me!"

"i have better things to do than google my neighbours!"

"i'm being serious, look me up right now."

y/n rolled her eyes before typing marcus' name into the search bar (after bothering him for his last name, which she realized she didn't already know).

"well shit. i'm staring at the newest driver of the ridgeline lube chip ganassi number 11 indycar."

"i told you." marcus grinned goofily, taking a sip of his drink. "seriously, you said you went into hr? we'll need someone like you to be on the podcast team for screaming meals."

y/n smiled softly at the boy across from her. the boy who had already lived more life than she could ever have dreamed of. "yeah, okay. maybe i'll take you up on that."

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

it was the first time she had been alone in the house all week, and she was ready to take advantage of that fact.

all week she had been back and forth between the childhood bedroom she was trying to redecorate and marcus armstrong's living room. many a night had been spent sleeping on his couch after a night of shitty comedy movies and cheap supermarket wine.

no, her parents and shiloh had left before six in the morning to take her to a cross country meet in daytona, and they wouldn't be back until well after ten p.m.

the silence was nice, she thought to herself as she paced the house in her soft cotton robe, the hem barely covering her ass, a warm, almost empty mug of hot chocolate in her hands as she drained the last dregs of laura secord and placed the mug on the kitchen counter.

she shut the bathroom door behind her, the heating tubes underneath the tiles warming her cold feet as she connected her bluetooth speaker, 'just like a pill' by p!nk echoing around the room as she leaned into the shower, trying to run the water warm.

the shower sputtered, weakly spitting out three drops of lukewarm water.

"oh for the love of god!" she groaned, pressing her head against the glass shower door. "the one fucking day i have the house to myself."

she sighed, lying down on the floor and opening the doors to the cabinet under the sink. there was a problem with the pipes, the one thing that she couldn't fix (and also didn't want to risk making worse, with things between her and shiloh being particularly tense). cursing under her breath, she reached for her phone.

"hey, marcus. can you come over? there's something up with the pipes in the bathroom and my shower won't start. you wouldn't happen to know how to fix that, would you?"

on the other end of the line, marcus laughed. "funnily enough, that's probably the one thing your dad taught me that he didn't also teach you. let me go and commence the wild goose chase required to find a tool box in this house, and i'll be there in ten minutes."

"you're a lifesaver, armstrong."

true to his word, ten minutes later, marcus armstrong was lying on her bathroom floor, shirt riding up to showcase his perfectly toned abs, muscles rippling under his skin as he tinkered with the pipes. it was taking every bit of self-restraint that y/n had not to cast aside her bathrobe and ride marcus on the heated floor.

she swallowed the thought, closing her eyes as she mentally chastised herself for thinking about her neighbor, and only friend within in a ten mile radius, like that. feeling her nipples hardening under her robe, she crosssd her arms over her chest (and her legs over each other, to try and deal with other issues) in an attempt to hide her arousal from the kiwi.

"i think i've got it!" marcus shouted. "try the shower now!"

grateful for the distraction, she padded over to the massive shower, reaching inside and turning the dial to warm. she let out a sigh of relief as the shower started up, warm water cascading down the rainhead and swirling down the drain.

"marcus armstrong, i could kiss you right now." she beamed, turning back to the man, who was now leaning against the doorframe. "thank you so much. there has to be something i can do in return."

marcus swallowed, realizing now how small the bathroom truly was, despite the size of the rather large shower. and with that realization, he also realized how close to y/n he was standing.

and he could also see the outlines of her nipples poking through the cotton robe, a sight that made him draw in a breath.

he wasn't supposed to think about her like this. not with the season coming up, and her about to start working for him in the screaming meals production department.

it wasn't proper.

but why did it feel so right?

neither of them said a word, marcus' hand coming up to caress the side of her face. refusing to spend any more time overthinking it, he kissed her first, cradling her bottom lip in between both of his.

what started out as a sweet, gentle kiss, quickly became hot and heavy, hands wandering under shirts and robes falling to the floor, shower still running behind them as marcus palmed y/n's ass, a small, sugar-sweet moan leaving her lips.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted to do this." marcus breathed, voice husky as he fumbled with the belt on his jeans. "every time we've watched a movie on my couch, i've wanted to pull the blankets over both of us and take you right there. they day you came running over to my house after shiloh was giving you shit, i wanted to kiss you and tell you everything would work itself out."

"well, now's your chance, armstrong. the shower is big enough for two."

__________

"marcus, can i ask you something?"

two rounds later, they were lying in y/n's bed, the plush white duvet pulled around their bodies. it was a tight squeeze, getting them both to fit on the twin sized mattress. her build a bears had been unceremoniously shoved onto the laminate floor.

"whats on your mind, pretty girl?" marcus asked softly.

"how are we going to make this work? i live with my parents and my teenage sister, for god's sakes. i'm back under their curfew, sleeping in a twin bed in a room that hasn't been redecorated since i was seventeen."

marcus kissed her on the forehead softly, moving to lace his fingers with hers, his hair still damp and ruffled form the shower. "we try, as simple as that. we'll find you a job, and you can stay over at mine however often you want. i can't promise your parents that you'll be back by the time curfew hits, but i can promise them that you're safe with me. and who knows, if this goes really well, maybe you could even move in with me."

y/n laughed softly. "hold your horses, racer boy."

"i'll hold the horses back as long as it takes for you to realize that i'm hopelessly in love with you."

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part One

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie) 

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing. – potential more to be added at stories progression

summary: Ellie is lost in the world, homeless and has been out of the world for so long in her mind she has no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: This first part was originally written as Reader/first person, but re-edited as Ellie/third person as its what's I'm used do if I missed anything please, feel free to let me know. Unbetaed, readers beware..

Warning, this is a slow burn... I scream at my computer with slow burns... so how well I will handle my own slow burn I have absolutely no idea... lol but as per my notes... I can't even promise Ellie will even meet Noah for um. a. few. parts. Don't lynch me.

ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME. (my replies are broken I will reply via reblog to yours)

tags: Tags are open if anyone is interested.

The day Ellie sold her guitar was the beginning of the end. It had been all going down hill for a long time. Ellie knew, of course, she knew. The whole world knew it to be honest, it isn’t just her that was struggling but she had dropped out of college and had been picking up work wherever she could find it just to get by and pay rent. Ellie had even tried Only Fans, but not even taking off her clothes and videoing herself for strangers on the internet had gotten her the money she needed to keep her from the predicament that she was in now. Not being able to even pay her monthly phone bill had put a stop to uploading the videos and images to continuing getting money from Only Fans for the bill, she had tried to get around it, but trying to access the free wifi at the library had been nixed the moment the librarian saw exactly what she was doing.

Boy had Ellie been banned there so fast anyone would think steam was about to come out of the librarian’s ears.

She didn’t blame her for that, but a girl had to eat, and eventually, when she stopped uploading the little content she had managed to get to her account, the money that she had had coming in from her subscribers, had dried up very quickly, and then she had nothing to even scrounge for the slightest morsel of food. Ellie hadn’t eaten a decent meal in what felt like…

Screw what felt like. She hasn't had even a scrap of food that hasn’t been begged, stolen, or fished out of the garbage in weeks.

Months since it was anything but dollar packs of noodles. Dry unless Jake let her borrow his camp stove to cook them.. She always shared if he did. He brought the kettle camp stove, and she bought the noodles and they ate huddled under the overpass, pretending they weren’t homeless, down on their luck, beggars.. Bound to get chased away, or worse, the next time a cop patrol came riding by. Jake was a good egg though, he could get into a shelter so much easier than her, but he never went, always saying there was too much noise, too many people. He was a veteran with PTSD, he’d lost the lower half of one of his right leg last time he was on active duty, and she was always willing to listen to the story, even if she heard it every time they shared a pack of noodles.

It had been a few days.

The overpass.

Ellie wished she could say that actually sleeping here was a new development, but it had been where she had been calling home for some weeks now. There used to be a tent city in the park for so many like her, but then the council had decided that was an unlawful assembly and chased them out. Sadly in that chaos, Ellie had lost the, admittedly flimsy, tent covering that had kept her at the very least dry of the night. That had been a few weeks back. Now, the overpass was usually where she spent her nights.

If she was lucky.

That’s right, if she was lucky.

If she wasn’t, she would go out and look to find a park bench. The other option was possibly huddled up somewhere random in a shop stoop and praying to whatever deity out there, if there was any at all, and hoped that it didn’t rain, and she woke up before the shop owners got in and chased her away the next morning.

Not that it really mattered. She could never get properly warm anyway, despite the fact Ellie was wearing literally every layer of clothes that she hadn’t sold. She just couldn’t stay warm, and that cough she’d had for weeks now just didn’t want to go away. If she couldn’t afford a place to live, it wasn’t like she could afford the treatment the doctors said she needed. The free clinic was pointless. No, sorry, that was horrible of her to even think. No it wasn’t, It had a point, but so far the drugs they’d given her only seemed to help much for a short period of time, but at least they did help, for a little bit. Still, the cough was relentless, it always came back despite the fact she always tried to do what they told her. She tried everything she could to stay as dry, and as warm as she could. Unfortunately every time it came back, and it made sleeping extremely difficult when every night she woke up feeling like she was trying to cough up her lungs from her chest, barely able to breath. It felt like something was sitting on her chest.

Today, Ellie seemed to have dozed off mid afternoon, she didn’t remember doing it, but she must have with the way she awoke with a start this afternoon. She hadn’t even realized that she’d drifted off, damn she was so tired, it happened when her coughing got so bad that she couldn’t manage to sleep more than tiny cat naps.. Probably about time to go back to the free clinic and see if they could give her some more meds and get just a little bit of relief, even if it was only for another short time, anything was better than nothing.

Waking up coughing, she raised a gloved hand to her mouth.

It was instinct.

Who didn’t cover their mouth when they coughed?

However, the pressure in her chest, the ache, the pain in her throat, then the drops of blood that she spots on her fingers when she struggles to pull a breath in and drop her hand from her mouth as the coughing eases slightly.. And her stomach drops.

Fuck.

That isn’t good.

Definitely free clinic time.

“Hey, you okay?”

Looking up from her hand, Ellie’s fingers closing in a fist quick as she swallows looking to the frankly clean, neat, man with bright eyes, a kind smile, more than a few tattoos, blonde short hair and is squatting down to her level,

“Ye-”

Ellie’s voice was rough, her throat feeling like a cheese grater from the coughing, but clearing her throat a little bit gently she continued,

“Yea, just really tired, I’m probably just getting a cold.”

Liar. Bold faced liar. She sees the man smile a little more, glad he accepts the white lie. Least she hopes he does anyway.

“Best get you to the clinic then.. Here, have a sandwich until then, fill that belly, and when you go, maybe check this place out too, it’s right across the street, I have a buddy over there, I think he could help you. Ask for Nicholas. He’s one of the nicer ones, I promise.”

That smile was winning as he stood up and walked the way he came. Ellie saw it then, the truck he was walking towards, he came from a homeless shelter.

She didn’t recognize the name though, that was weird. Looking at the card, the writing was fuzzy, like her eyes weren’t working properly for a second, and, and then the words formed. Oh, there it went. Huh. It was an unemployment agency. That’s funny, she thought she’d been to every single one in the city, she didn’t recognize this one either. That was really strange, he wasn’t acting like he was new to the area. New people had this way about them, she'd noticed, very buddy buddy, trying to be everyone's best friend. Now this guy, yes he’d been nice, but then he’d left her with the sandwich, holding the card in her hand, slightly blood smeared from her fingers, and then gone back about his work.. Like he was an old hand at this.

Looking down at the card, Ellie sighed. Nicholas.

Well, she obviously needed to go to the clinic anyway right. Even if she had a strange feeling about it, Ellie tucked the card into her ratty jeans pocket and opened up the sandwich. She’d only eat half now and save the other half for tomorrow, for before she’d go and see if she could get in at the clinic.

Ellie had been waiting hours to get in at the clinic.

Just her luck. There were too many people and she had already this morning been waiting there for so long that she knew she would end up sleeping on the front stoop if she continued on trying to wait to see a doctor. No matter how many times she tried to get the nurses attention, there was always someone who was yelling louder than her, and not even when she had another coughing fit did that get her attention..

It was late afternoon by the time that Ellie was finally taking a time out from the chaos and a short break to get some fresh air by the door, just trying to breathe, that you spotted the friendly man from the day before.. Waving at you from the building across the road.. That was where he’d said the agency was, across the road.

He was waving her over.

Glancing back into the clinic, she’d be waiting here for hours still and she knew it, and she wasn't even sure the nurse had ever put her name on the list of patients despite already being here, for hours already. Signing in this morning had been the strangest thing, she’d set the intake form down, and yet, nothing.

Walking across the street towards the guy, he was still smiling..

“I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

So, he was that sure she’d come, strange. Swallowing, her throat hurt so much from all the coughing, but she didn’t want to complain, not if she could get a job, any job right now would be better than nothing.

“Come on in, I’m Steven by the way, let’s find Nick, he’s the guy for you, I know it.”

Ellie followed him, she felt obliged to this time, not sure why, like she was being tugged along. The building wasn’t anything strange, just an office building.

“Ah, here we go, right though here.. Nicholas Ruffilo. He'll be able to help you.”

Well, here goes nothing. What did she have to lose right?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[yoitsjay]

Band AU! Guitarist! Echo x reader? 🥹

Just some bold flirting by the reader and fluff if that's okay

Have a great day!

You got it!

Flattery

Pairings: Guitarist! Echo x gn reader

Summary: you and your friends get some backstage passes to meet your favorite band The Bad Batch, the backup guitarist Echo has always had your attention, so you get a little bold. And he agrees on a date.

Warnings: flirting, bold reader, shy ish Echo, blurb

Word count: 1,430

Ever since you discovered this one band you had made it your personal mission to save enough money to get you and your friend backstage passes to meet them. You had seen a few of their live shows before but had never met them in person, you could only afford the nosebleeds or the top rows since they were typically the cheapest.

But now you finally bought tickets for the area closest to the stage, as well as backstage passes for you, and your best friend. They liked this band almost as much as you did, and had some of their merch, and were happy to tag along with you if it meant they could have some autographs.

But you had a bigger goal than just simple autographs.

You and your friend arrived at the concert stadium just as the opening band finished their last song, and The Bad Batch started setting up. You had gotten drinks for yourself and your friend, and were talking whilst drinking and waiting at the place closest to the stage. There were still people milling about on the ground floor, talking and vibing to the radio music that played while they set up.

“Y/n! one of them is looking at us-” Your friend squealed, and you raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure it's not just your imagination?” You joked, laughing as she shoved you playfully. “I’m serious! it's the one with the bionic hand.” She giggled, and your attention turned to the stage, where indeed the backup guitarist was glancing at you on occasion, eyes widening when you met his gaze with your own.

You grinned, and winked before looking away. “Oh he’s cute.” you giggled, your friend grinning. “You should try and land a date with him! He's looking at you like you're a piece of candy.” she chuckled, and you grinned wider. “We’ll see what happens.”

The Bad Batch ended up playing a variety of songs, ranging from popular to unpopular hidden gems that you would definitely be adding to your playlist, as well as some songs you weren't a huge fan of, and then some new releases towards the end. After they played, you cashed in your backstage tickets with the bouncer who led you to where The Bad Batch was resting, and doing autographs for others who got backstage passes.

Your friend let out a soft squeal, shaking her hands in excitement as she whispered in your ear. “They’re all so hot up close.” She whispered, and you let out a snort, covering your mouth with your hand. “Shut up- crazy girl.” You replied, walking forward once the people in front of you were done. You pushed your friend forward, grinning like the devil when she glared back at you before smiling at each of the band members.

You studied the room as she talked with them, your eyes landing on one of the guitars. You hummed, and took a step closer, admiring the details and paint job of said guitar. “You like the work?” A voice spoke up, pulling you out of your daydream. You looked up, seeing the man from earlier, Echo if your memory served you correctly.

You smiled, and nodded. “I think I had a similar model a few years ago, well my dad did, and then he sold it. It’s a beautiful instrument… I like the colors you chose.” You replied softly, turning to face him fully.

“that’s nice to hear, we normally get compliments on our looks, and not really our instruments.” he expressed and you frowned. “I mean- you are good looking but that's not what I care for when I listen to bands like yours. The music is what I love, and if the people playing and singing it are good looking? It's just a bonus. But again- talent is the most attractive thing about a person, in my opinion.” You chuckled, noticing the smile on Echo’s face.

“Well- that uh- that's really nice.” He replied, rubbing the back of his head. “did you want an autograph or something?” He then asked, but you shook your head. “No… but i will take your phone number, and take you on a date.” You flirted, winking at him like you did when he stared at you on stage. You watched as his face lit up red, but he didn’t reject your idea, and instead grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling his personal number on it before handing it to you.

That was easy.

“What’s the catch?” You asked him, tucking the piece of paper in your pocket, now resting your hands on your hips as you looked at him. “No catch… you seem like an interesting person, and you're gorgeous… so I'd like to know more about you, and your personality.” He explained, and you hummed, nudging him with your elbow. “sure, my ‘personality’” You chuckled, and again his face lit up red.

“I mean it!” he exclaimed, and you smiled. “I know I'm just teasing you, cutie.” You mused, and looked over at your friend whose face was beet red, and was probably on the urge of passing out as she spoke to Crosshair and Hunter, the lead guitarist and lead singer. “Shit- she's gonna pass out.” You grumbled, rushing away from Echo and towards your friend as she started wobbling back and forth before falling into your arms.

“whoop! there we go girl, settle.” You huffed, lifting her small frame up and over your shoulder with ease, using your arm to block any creeps from looking up her short skirt. “Well thank you for the wonderful backstage experience, love your music but i gotta get this girl in an ice bath.” You joked, looking over at Echo.

“I’ll call you sweetheart.” You stated, waving goodbye as the bouncer led you back out to the main concert hall. You brought your friend back to your shared apartment, and put her in her bed so she was comfortable when she woke up again, and in the meantime you made yourself a tea in the kitchen, almost forgetting about the paper in your pocket until it had fallen out.

You grabbed it, grinning as you sat down at the table in the kitchen area, putting the phone number in your contacts, opening up a new message chat.

–Y/n: ‘hey cutie <3’

was the first message you sent, followed by a keyboard typed heart after the word cutie. You then set your phone down, and just enjoyed your tea, not expecting a response right away, which had you excited.

-Echo The Cutie: ‘Hey, is your friend doing okay?’

was the reply from Echo, you chuckled, and quickly typed back.

–Y/n: ‘yeah she’ll be fine, resting in bed. What are you up to? still taking autographs?’

-Echo the cutie: ‘That's good, and no, I'm home now for the rest of the night…what about you?’

–Y/n: ‘sipping on some tea, relaxing… are you free tomorrow?’

-Echo the cutie: ‘yeah i'm free’

–Y/n: ‘good, meet me outside this place called mimi’s cafe at noon, it's a secluded place, not a lot of visitors. perfect for our first date <3’

A giggle left your lips, and you can feel the heart start to creep up on your face as you and Echo continued to text back and forth, he had agreed to the date, but even after that the conversation just kept flowing, and you flirted back and forth with each other until it was time to say goodnight.

The next day you had met up with him at the cafe you mentioned, and the date went smoothly. You and Echo had such an amazing conversation about music, and other hobbies and aspects of your life. He felt like he could be a normal person around you.

And you felt like you may have just found your forever person with the amount of things you had in common with him.

the date had led to many others, whenever he was in your city anyway. And when he was on tour he'd always call you every day, before and after his show’s, and when he couldn’t call you he was texting.

A relationship had bloomed in the months you had texted, and called and dated, and you even started to get to know his brothers too, and even got your friend one of their numbers, Crosshair you think his name was. She seemed happy, so you were happy too.

Being so bold and asking for Echo’s number was probably the best decision you had ever made.

➺

Tag list:

Echo Tag:

All:

@moomoog017

[tikay21]

🐺 Saint Conroy

more under the cut

Saint Conroy - this guy is where it all started with for me and The Sims. He was the first male character I ever played all the way through his life. I started playing Sims 20 years ago, and my first household was a girl I focused on - Jolene Winter (later Winter-Conroy). But eventually, she needed a partner by her side, so I created the very first version of him. Sadly, I don’t have any pictures left from that version.

Saint today After a long break, I got back to Sims with The Sims 3 because my son wanted it, and – well – I got hooked again, lol.

I recreated them in S3 as best as I could and gave them the look I had imagined with all the new features. Unfortunatly barely S3 screenshots, cause i didn`t document my GP that time this way, story only in my head and memories - so all images here are from the remade in S4. Saint grew up with his mother’s relatives after she passed away early. He was treated well there, but he wanted more than to be stuck in that small town forever. After school, he started working odd jobs and saved up a little money to rent a room in the city, at least as a temporary solution. Without his uncle’s support, it wouldn’t have lasted long. With his guitar, he began busking at the same spots repeatedly. That’s where Jolene noticed him. She started coming by more often to see if he was there, listening to his music from a distance. One day, he approached her, and there was an instant chemistry between them. They grew closer, he taught her how to play the guitar, they fell in love, and became a couple.

Saint landed a few gigs at local venues. He met more people and eventually started the band 'Gravity'. They practiced in a classic garage setup and were finally discovered, thanks to Saint’s persistence in getting people to listen to his music at least once. They married 3 years later while the band started to go it's way and things went very well.

The unstable lifestyle took its toll, and they argued more and more frequently. Saint often withdrew from conversations and did his own thing. The issues with Jaxx weighed heavily on him, but neither of them knew how to help him. They separated and even got divorced, but continued living together in the large finca (which they later bought and restored) that they had rented with the band. Since, deep down, they couldn’t live without each other, they reconciled and remarried a little over a year later. With his wife Jolene Winter-Conroy he has four kidz: Jaxx - Cloud - Leroy und Joshua.

'Gravity' got famous, and he became a clan leader and MC president.

Saint aging

He has a quirky habit: he only wears red shoes. Now he’s a great-grandfather, but I prefer to not age him more, it's game, so I can do what I want haha. They’ve been through so much family history together, up and downs and some tragedies, but I wasn’t really documenting any of it back then.

So one day, my game stopped working, and I had to make a choice: The Sims 4 or no Sims at all. I put it off for as long as I could, but eventually, I made the switch and left them behind, planning to start fresh. But Sims 4 didn’t have the stuff I loved from Sims 3 – bikers, MCs, musicians, bands – it was really missing for me. Nevertheless it lasted about two weeks before I started remaking them in Sims 4. I just couldn’t be without them. They’re connected to everything I do in my Game, even if it’s just in the background. They’re the foundation of my whole gameplay.

I play without aging and death. I manually age them up when it’s time. I just can’t handle a full legacy game with all the consequences. So here we are, and would love cataloging my Sims here now.

The plan is to give each of my characters a profile and update them whenever I feel like it. Saint Conroy ❤️ Sim made by me @tikay21 in various stages of life.

Sim by me @tikay21

I would like to introduce some of my Sims (Char/OC) that I’ve created over the years and which are special to me. Most of this ones I’ve played with for a long time or actually play with.

Conroy - Family Tree

[alphyser]

Random things about Kyoka Jiro from my MHA DR because I love her <3

Her favorite game in the entire world is Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask 3DS Remake. Yes, she owns a Nintendo 3DS, and also a PSP.

She always complains about wanting to buy a Switch or at least a Switch Lite, and even though she has the money she'd rather spend it on picks and guitars.

Speaking of guitars, she owns plenty but she mostly plays with her TMG 2022 Dover HSS Black. Her parents bought it for her during her 14th birthday, even though it was expensive her dad sold a few of his records to buy it for her.

Her favorite manga series is Witch Hat Atelier, recommended by Todoroki. Her favorite is Richeh because she loves the way she challenges magic and not just confines to what people define as spells. (Side note, Todoroki's favorite is Agott because he kins her.)

Has merch of sanrio characters but specifically Kuromi for the aesthetic and Pompompurin because she loves him and that is her baby boy. She has a keychain on her bag from a McDonald's happy meal that was a collab between Sanrio and YuGiOh, it's Pompompurin as Exodia the forbidden one. (Yaomomo also got one but it was Cinnamoroll as Blue Eyes White Dragon.)

Also something I have to complain about, girl is so loud when eating. She CHEWS. And I hate it.

idek if you wanna be tagged but you asked for it last time... @avkizi