#custom boxing equipments

[piedoesnotequalpi]

The horrors persist but so do I 😵‍💫

[squeakitties]

the fortnite cybertruck ordeal is so funny to think about

it's so so clear that this came about just because elon begged and begged for it with an unignorably large sum of money. epic devs have said openly on their twitter pages that not only do they not endorse tesla or musk due to the partnership, but they that actively loathed having to work on it

the cybertruck coming to fortnite was heralded with a teaser image and then a whole 30 second trailer, clearly meant to drum up hype and, ASSUMEDLY, drum up people to spend money on the cybertruck when it hit the item shop. it's currently obtainable completely for free, and in a specific way that's impossible to do on accident, as if people who don't want it at all can safely not get it

THE CYBERTRUCK ITSELF IS A CATASTROPHIC MESS INGAME! it's an suv/truck skin, which means that entering a truck/suv on the map will morph it into the cybertruck if you have it equipped. currently there's only an SUV with 4 interior seats. but the cybertruck shunts the two rear seats *TO THE EXPOSED TRUCK BED WITH NO COVER WHATSOVER*. also turning an SUV into a cybertruck, for some reason, completely disables the use of two powerful items (rocket fists and a summonable ghost ship) for the entire rest of the match

one of the custom decals for the cybertruck is the sledgehammer-induced broken glass

in rocket league (another f2p epic games title) the cybertruck, for some reason, doesn't have matching hitboxes At All and instead uses the same as The Hybrid, which is a rectangular box that's hard to manipulate the giant soccer ball with, and is considered bottom tier for competitive play. speculators thought the sloped windshield could grant *some* benefit but it doesn't even have that

[carrysports]

Wholesale Custom Boxing gloves Equipment Manufacturers suppliers Exporter.

#Carry Sports is the one most Popular company in the world. Carry Sports Provide wholesale Custom boxing gloves & equipment on customer (contract base) Demand. We can provide you all service Machine made with inject made padding and Specially Hand made cowhide leather with handmade padding. Any body have interested for good services they can contact with our company we provide you our 100% services..

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Aventurine and Ratio with a very generous and doting partner who makes them an abundance of gifts?

New weapons, a couple plushies, and many more

Gifts of the Heart

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Gifts, Tender Moments, Soft Romance, Lighthearted, Emotional Vulnerability, Comfort, Slice of Life, Found Family.

A/N: why was I listening to cure while writing this? 💀

Jing Yuan's office was a sanctuary of calm amidst the chaos of the Xianzhou Luofu. However, today it was anything but calm. Piled high on his usually immaculate desk were an assortment of meticulously crafted gifts: a new weapon stand made of polished silver, embroidered cushions for his chair, and a plush lion that looked suspiciously like Mimi.

You walked in with another package, your cheeks flushed with effort and excitement. "I thought you might like these," you said, setting down the final bundle—a lightweight, beautifully designed cape lined with reinforced threads, perfect for both combat and ceremony.

Jing Yuan leaned back in his chair, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Dozing General or not, I fear I might soon become the spoiled General if this continues.”

You smiled, brushing off his teasing. “It’s not spoiling if you deserve it.”

He reached for the plush lion and held it up, a rare chuckle escaping his lips. “Even Mimi has a twin now. Truly, you leave no detail overlooked.” His tone softened, and he leaned closer, his expression uncharacteristically tender. “You’ve made my world a much brighter place. Thank you, truly.”

Dan Heng was used to silence. It was his comfort zone, a shield against the chaos of the universe. But lately, the quiet in the archives had been punctuated by the rustling of gift-wrapped packages.

At first, he had been perplexed. Who needed a custom-crafted spear attachment inlaid with celestial patterns? Or a weighted blanket embroidered with stars and constellations that mirrored his room’s nightlight setting? And the plushies—one resembled Cloud-Piercer, another was an adorable caricature of his own stoic self.

You stood behind him, watching as he carefully examined a new spear stand. “Do you like it?” you asked hesitantly.

Dan Heng turned, his expression unreadable but his eyes softer than usual. “You don’t have to go to such lengths for me.”

“I want to,” you said simply. “You deserve to feel cared for.”

He hesitated, then reached for the plush Cloud-Piercer and placed it on his desk. “Thank you. I… appreciate everything.” His voice was quiet, but the sincerity in it spoke volumes. For the first time in a long while, Dan Heng felt that his solitude wasn’t a burden he had to bear alone.

Aventurine’s office was a chaotic display of opulence and extravagance, but now it had taken on a more personal touch. Golden dice-shaped ornaments dangled from the corners, a new set of playing cards lay on his desk, and a plush peacock sat proudly atop his chair.

“Another gift?” he asked, his signature smile playing on his lips as you entered with a set of intricately designed cufflinks shaped like roulette wheels.

“Only the best for you,” you replied, setting the box down. “I noticed your old ones were scratched.”

Aventurine picked up one of the cufflinks, holding it up to the light. “These are exquisite. You truly outdo yourself every time.”

You shrugged, grinning. “I just want to see you happy.”

His expression flickered, the mask slipping for a brief moment as he regarded you with something raw and unspoken. “You know, most people give me things expecting something in return. But you… you just give.”

“That’s because I care about you,” you said gently. “No strings attached.”

Aventurine chuckled, sliding the cufflinks into place. “You’re a dangerous one, you know that? Making me feel things I thought I’d buried long ago.”

Ratio’s lab was a temple of precision and order. Each piece of equipment had its place, every book meticulously cataloged. And yet, amidst the sterility of science, there was now a peculiar warmth: a plush owl perched on his desk, custom bookmarks tucked into his volumes, and a set of tools engraved with his initials.

“Another package?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you entered with a sleek case.

You opened it to reveal a new set of instruments, polished to perfection and designed with ergonomic grips. “I thought these might help with your work.”

He inspected them with a critical eye, his expression unreadable. Finally, he set them down and turned to you. “You have an uncanny ability to surprise me.”

“I just want to make your life a little easier,” you said, smiling. “You work so hard; you deserve it.”

Ratio’s gaze softened, the sharp edges of his intellect giving way to something more human. “It’s rare for someone to see beyond the intellect and treat me as a person. You’ve done more than that—you’ve made me feel valued in ways I didn’t think possible.”

He reached for the plush owl, holding it up as a small smile tugged at his lips. “Even this has its charm. Thank you, truly.”

[mcyt-builds-contest]

Pandora's Vault

Builder : Awesamdude

Series : DSMP

Propaganda : its so big. Its so so big. Look at a map of the dsmp. Its just a black void bigger than l'manburg was. You look at it and you just know it's something terrible. the obsidian walls, lava, the iron. It's just there. In the middle of the ocean. It does not fit in and its scary. the AMOUNT of redstone and functions it go is AMAZING. the only way to enter is through a portal that then leads u to the nether and has to be manually activated again by the warden. So to enter you literally NEED the wardens permission. All the bridges and all the door. It's so fucking cool man what can I say. The amount of security. the lore that happened inside pandora as well. Pandoras arc was the best arc of the whole of dream smp and I stand by that. There is so so much to unpack. Sam and Dream could have just built some shitty obsidian box and called it a prison, but no they made PANDORAS VAULT

Bonus : it's a very big prison and now it's containing way too many peeps

Pearlescentmoon's Alien Landscape

Builder : Pearlescentmoon

Series : Hermitcraft Season 9

Propaganda : It's so pretty. The terraforming is gorgeous. The alien plants are stunning. She put diamond blocks and purpur into the build and it looks good. Everything about it is stunning, including the alleyway/abandoned human civilization area. | Took around 2 years to make, regarded as the best hermitcraft build yet, fully detailed and equipped with awesome redstone stuff (flickering lights, doors, custome music discs and more!) The landscape is 100% man made, all the trees and plants are all custom built and the land was terraformed to perfection. AND it has awesome lore: a lost human civilization being investigated by a curious alien. Also it's so cool mojang put it on the bedrock market place

Taglist!

@10piecechickenmcnugget @choliosus @biro-slay @betweenlands @xdsvoid

[spiriteddreams]

thinking about sassy and teasing boxer!wrio... f!reader, slightly cheesy flirting (as you can imagine)

thinking about boxer!wrio, a frequent at the gym that your father, former lawyer neuvillette, owns. you decide to spend some more time with your father to help run the gym when you meet wriothesely, the sassy, uncrowned champion of the boxing ring.

initially he takes no care that you’re around, he figures you’re just someone neuvillette ended up hiring to help out around the place part time. you’re interesting, he’ll give you that, with the way you walk around far too comfortably as if you know the place like the back of your hand. and you talk to neuvillette with such familiarity, dare he say informality, that he can’t help but wonder who you are. and the moment he discovers that you’re his neuvillette’s daughter, suddenly he’s even more intrigued. and he can’t help but start talking to you more, about school and work and everything in between. he tries to get you to call him “your grace,” the nickname he’s garnered after climbing up the ranks but each time, you roll your eyes and tell him off. it only spurs him further.

but conversation continues with each time you meet and he tells you about what he’s what to outside of the ring, while slowly taking note of all the little things you say and your mannerisms when you’re grinning up at him from behind the front desk or when you’re watching him and some of the others train in the ring. and after awhile, he can’t help but start to like you, not just because you’re pretty, but also because you don’t take his shit. and even when you do, you throw it back right in his face. 

“take your words to the ring, i have no intention of humoring you, wriothesley,” you sigh behind the front desk computer, which hides an open notebook full of notes and annotations. he loves the way his name sounds from your lips, drawing out each syllable as if trying to taste it. you say his name with exasperation and slight annoyance, but he can still catch that hint of amusement in your tone.

his flirty approaches might have initially been met with a flustered look on your face, but not you don’t even bat an eye at his sly comments. neuvillette however, shoots wrio a glare everytime he starts to say something he thinks could be flirtatious.

boxer!wrio, who comes in one early morning to help bring in some new equipment for the gym. and you’re sitting with your father at the front, drinking water and chatting when wrio walks in, shirtless, muscles on full display, sweaty and oh so gorgeous and you can’t help but choke on your drink, so clearly staring at the view.

“put on a shirt young man!” neuvilette’s thundering voice echoes throughout the room.

and much to his dismay, wrio is feeling particularly dangerous that day and says, “but i think she’s quite enjoying the view.” you feel your face warm as your father glares at you before turning back to give wrio a piece of his mind, already telling him off as he follows the boxer towards the back room where he can place down the boxes and then be chewed out by your father. but wrio thinks it’ll all be worth it because your expression was priceless. 

he's used to people ogling him when he's training or fighting in the ring, whether or not he has a shirt on. but he can't help but sneak a look whenever you're around, trying to catch your wandering eyes to see if you're eyeing him too. and when he does catch you, he straightens up, tilts his head and throws you an arrogant smile.

"see something you like, princess?" he calls out boldly. other customers either look away or chuckle at the now familiar sight and sound of wrio's teasing. the times when neuvillette is there, he snaps at the boxer sharply then turns to you, eyes twitching with annoyance as he tells you to get back to work. you know he means well, and you know wrio only does it to rile up your father. and to flirt, you suppose.

boxer!wrio, who, one afternoon on his way out, makes sure to stop by the front desk to linger around you. it just so happens that you’re getting ready to leave for the day. fresh from a rinse with hair dripping wet and wolfish grin plastered across his face, wrio leans over the front desk, cocky as ever and asks if you’d like to grab a bite with him. he catches sight of the way your eyes narrow and quickly flicker over to where your father stands on the other side of the gym, working with another customer. for a second he thinks you might bail, but much to his delight your shoulders loosen and you smile at him and say, “where are we off to, your grace?”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: i have SO many more boxer!wrio thoughts to share hehe

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1930 Ford Highboy Coupe

There’s always lots of detail work with any build and this ’30 Ford highboy coupe is no exception. Look closely and you will find Craftworks Fabrication handmade steel motor mounts. The license plate and valve covers were painted by Jeremy Seanor of Luckystrike Designs. He also painted all the accompanying engine and tranny parts. The powdercoat was handled by Pittsburgh Powder Coat while the chrome plating was conducted by Jon Wright’s Custom Chrome Plating.

The chassis is comprised of a Roadster Shop custom frame that was stepped, stretched, and features contoured ’32 Ford-style framerails. It was also then boxed, capped, and has hole punch flared front framehorns. From here the frame is outfitted with a Super Bell 4-inch drop, drilled and plated I-beam axle, low-profile monoleaf spring with Ridetech tubular shocks paired to custom-made drilled billet radius rods from Johnson’s Hot Rod Shop. Steering falls to the Flaming River box and a LimeWorks Hot Rod column topped with a four-spoke Billet Specialties Sprint Car–style leather-wrapped wheel. In back there’s a Currie 9-inch rearend outfitted with 3.70 gears, 31-spline axles, QA1 coilovers, a Pete & Jakes Panhard bar, and a parallel four-link setup. Braking is a combination of disc/drum front to rear. The forward braking dark gray–painted Wilwood Dynalite calipers are neatly hidden behind the Pete & Jakes finned backing plates. While in back the 9-inch is outfitted with 11-inch brakes, this time hidden beneath the SO-CAL Speed Shop finned drums all the while the chassis rides on a full set of 16-inch Dayton wire wheels wrapped with Coker/Excelsior rubber measuring 5.50R16 in front and 7.00R18 in the back.

All hot rods have something fun settled between the ’rails and beneath the hood (well if they have a hood). In the case of our ’30 Ford highboy coupe it sure appears to be a vintage Ford Y-block but after more than a cursory look we begin to see the telltale signs that there’s something more. Indeed, while it may look like a Ford it truly is a 376-inch LSX iron block, with aluminum heads and ARP studs, plus adapter-equipped small-block Ford (Windsor) valve covers all from Don Hardy Race Cars and then assembled by Talik and Marc Mullin. The intake is an Edelbrock LS dual quad with a pair of Thunder AVS EnduraShine carbs dressed in OTB air cleaners. Delivering the gas from the Tanks stainless reservoir is an Earl’s Performance billet fuel pump. More engine accessories include an MSD 6AL box to go along with the MSD billet Ford small-block distributor that functions through a timing cover adapter from Chevrolet Performance all the while using an MSD coil and Lokar vintage plug wires. Powermaster also supplied the alternator and starter, the battery is an XS Power AGM, and a Wegner Motorsports water pump is used as well as a Wegner front accessory drive unit. This 500-plus hp V-8 utilizes custom headers made at Craftworks Fabrication based on Ultimate Headers LS header flanges. The pseudo-Ford small-block is backed up to a TCI StreetFighter 700-R4 with a 2,800-stall speed converter operated by a Lokar shifter. The trans cooler comes by way of Derale Performance and moves the power through a 3-inch-diameter custom-made driveshaft.

[marlynnofmany]

Honking Trouble

This job was a pain from the start. The customer was pushy, giving Captain Sunlight a run for her money on the diplomacy front — not bad enough for us to refuse to make the delivery, but pushing the boundaries — and the cargo was awkward. 

And since it was animals, that was my problem. 

“Keep your distance,” I told Zhee. “I think it can get its beak between the bars.” The cage was large and rickety, with bars a few inches apart. As if to prove me right, a long furry neck with a beak at the end stabbed outward and hissed at us. 

Zhee flared his pincher arms and hissed back, but the creature wasn't impressed. It just spread its batlike wings as far as the cage would allow and made a surprisingly deep honk that echoed through the cargo bay. 

I hadn’t read the documents yet about what kind of animal this was, from which planet, but if those documents turned out to say this was a genetic experiment in unwise combinations, I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised. It was vaguely goose-shaped, just with four feet instead of two, equipped with talons instead of webs, white fur instead of feathers, and a beak that ended in a wickedly sharp hook. After all the hawks and parrots I’d encountered back on Earth, that beak looked ready for either mischief or violence. Probably both.

At any rate, the goose-thing’s honk set off the tiny creatures in the other cage, which thankfully were better contained. That cage was a mesh sphere not about to let any of the little drifting dust motes out. As enchanting as it might be to have the spaceship filled with colorful bits of fluff that moved gracefully and made a chorus of tiny peeps, they just looked like allergies waiting to happen. And I didn't want to think about finding them behind the wall panels later. 

Zhee hissed at the furry demon goose again, clearly hoping to frighten it into submission. No luck. 

“Knock it off,” I told him. “That'll just make it louder. Here, help me get the lifter under the cage.” The customer had brought the cage onboard for us, but this wasn't a good spot for it. So it was up to me, the resident animal expert, to get it moved safely to a room more suited to animal cargo. Nobody wanted to sneak past this biter to get to the rest of the crates. 

Luckily we had a freshly refurbished hoversled with a lifting scoop that could slide under anything as long as the thing in question held still. I convinced Zhee to hold the cage stationary, since his exoskeleton was tougher than my fingers. The goose-thing pecked at him from an awkward angle. I worked the controls, and soon our misbehaving cargo was lifted up onto the sled. 

I looked over at the round cage full of chirping alien pixies. “Let's come back for that one.”  

“Agreed.”

The goose was quiet while we moved it down the hall, taking in the sights with all the attention of someone casing the joint. I told myself not to be too judgmental. Maybe it had never been on a spaceship before, and was curious.

Then Blip walked out of a side corridor, wearing her favorite flowy silk outfit that made her look like a muscley flower, and no: the goose was just looking for opportunities. It snapped at the nearest hem and almost got a beakful, but Blip moved just in time. Then she scolded it for almost ripping quality Frillian clothes.

“Do you know how hard this is to replace? Of course you don’t; you’re a rude animal.” She shook a blue finger at the unrepentant goose. Behind her, Blop appeared and aimed his own frown into the cage.

“Sorry,” I said. “Don’t get too close to this one. At least it was only aiming for your clothes, not something that would bleed.”

Blip folded muscular arms, flared her frills, and scowled. “It would have regretted that.”

I sighed, pushing the hoversled forward. “Don’t punch the cargo.”

Blip muttered as we left. There were no further incidents on the way into Storage Hold B, and the goose didn’t even try to bite us as we got the cage off the sled. It was busy inspecting the view: boxes, cabinets, and the large clear containment pen that had held troublemaking cargo before. It would have been nice to shove this guy in there, but the cage wouldn’t fit through the door, and there was no way I was going to voluntarily let it out.

“I’m watching you,” I told it as I followed Zhee back into the hall. Technically Kavlae was watching, or maybe Wio — whoever was in the cockpit behind the security cameras. They’d be making sure the onboarding process went smoothly before the ship took off.

I knew that, but I was still surprised to hear Kavlae’s voice on the hallway intercom a few minutes later.

“Walk faster,” she said from a single speaker. “It’s trying to open a box.”

“It can reach that??” I asked, pushing the hoversled more quickly. The aura puffs squeaked and twirled. (Their cage had a label, with a species description and the number of creatures inside. They were behaving.)

Zhee scurried ahead on his many bug legs to open the door. Before I could get there, he charged inside, hissing again. I heard answering hisses and the sound of a crate being scraped across the floor.

Once I got the aura puffs into the room, I found Zhee inspecting a gnawed-on box corner with splinters on the floor. The goose looked pleased with itself.

I asked, “What’s the damage?”

“Nothing significant,” Zhee said. “Luckily this is our own ship’s supplies, not something for a client.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t look good.” I parked the sled. “‘Here’s your delivery! You don’t mind a little artistic nibbling about the edges, do you?’ I’m sure that would go over well.”

Zhee shoved a couple other boxes further back and helped me set the aura puffs a safe distance away. Then, under Kavlae’s watchful eye, we went back to the cargo bay for some non-animal cargo.

The intercom chimed before we got there. “It’s trying to pick the lock on its cage,” Kavlae said, still on single-speaker mode. “I don’t know if it c— Oh no, it’s out.”

I left the sled in the middle of the hallway and ran, with Zhee right behind me.

Speakers all along the hall chorused, “It opened the other cage.”

I said a very unprofessional word and charged forward to slam my hand on the door-opening panel. Expecting the one cargo to be actively eating the other, I dashed inside, only to be knocked off my feet by the goose making a break for it. I fell amid clouds of happily chirping aura puffs.

Zhee lunged for the goose, but it dodged what would have been a very painful hug from his pincher arms, and I heard it honking triumphantly down the hall. Zhee ran after it while the whole-ship intercom chimed.

“Escaped cargo. It is large and likes to bite. Currently heading towards the crew lounge. Captain, permission to use stun guns on the cargo?”

After a moment, Captain Sunlight answered from somewhere else on the ship. “Permission granted. All available crew, arm yourselves and proceed with caution. Kavlae, keep us posted on its whereabouts.”

Trying not to feel like a failure, I scrambled to my feet and checked a cabinet for stun guns. Found one. Waving the aura puffs away from the door, I regretfully left them floating about the storage hold while I chased after the bigger problem. Zhee had already disappeared.

I met Trrili in the hall.

“How dangerousss is thisss animal?” she asked, looming over me and flexing her pincher arms in delight.

“I don’t think it wants to seriously hurt anyone, but I can’t say for sure,” I said. “It might go for the eyes if it’s cornered. Try not to damage it.”

“Frrrrightening causesss no damage,” Trrili said, and flashed away down the hall.

I ran after.

Kavlae reported, “It’s in the crew lounge, searching the furniture, probably looking for food. This could be a good place to corner it.”

Trrili waited in position outside the lounge when I arrived, crouched like a spider ready to spring. Zhee was moving toward the kitchen entrance to flank it. A flash of yellow scales at the other end of the hall was Captain Sunlight hurrying forward with a stun gun aimed at the floor. The goose made a muffled honk from inside the lounge, crunching something that sounded like snack food scavenged from under the couch.

I stopped behind Trrili and waited for everyone to get into position. Two threatening predators and two stun guns ought to be a recipe for success against one alien goose.

Then the goose dashed into the kitchen before Zhee could get there, and the whole plan went out the window.

Trrili raced after it. Zhee got in the captain’s way. I reached the kitchen in time to see the creature hiss in defiance before prying open a cabinet door.

It might have thought that was an exit. In reality, it was Paint’s hiding spot, and she shrieked fit to shatter eardrums, curling into a ball of scales and panic.

That was enough of a distraction for Mimi to drop from the high shelf he’d been waiting on, and wrap the demon goose in all of his tentacles. It was surprisingly effective.

That’s not the plan, but I’ll take it.

Everyone was shouting and in the way. I followed Mimi’s example and climbed onto a counter, where I could get a clear shot with the stun gun and not hit him.

I stunned the goose in the butt, and it finally stopped flapping.

It took a while for all the yelling to subside, but the captain wriggled past Zhee and Trrili to declare no harm done. Kavlae told the rest of the ship. Mimi untangled himself from the goose, who had frozen in an inconvenient position. Paint stayed in the cabinet. Zhee clicked away to get the hoversled, then stopped when Trrili simply dragged the goose towards the hold.

Captain Sunlight looked up at me. “Good shot.”

“Thanks,” I said, getting down from the counter. I’d have to wash the footprints off that later. “Paint, it’s safe to come out.”

Mimi was already coaxing her out of the cabinet, offering some of the snacks that she’d apparently been eating when she heard the alert about the dangerous animal.

Speaking of which, I thought. With Paint in good hands (or the equivalent), I hurried after the others. I heard Captain Sunlight say a few words to Paint and Mimi before following.

So we got to put the goose in the Clear Pen For Naughty Animals after all. This pen didn’t have anywhere it could stick its beak out of once the stun wore off, only mesh-covered air vents way at the top and a door that locked (very reliably) from the outside.

Take that, you troublemaker.

We caught the aura puffs carefully by hand (or the equivalent), and put them back in their own cage. Thankfully the goose hadn’t damaged the latch, just opened it with bird-brained cleverness.

“It’s just those last two left,” Captain Sunlight said after counting. “Up there.”

The two in question were floating higher than her little lizardy arms could reach, so I moved to do the honors. As I did, Blip and Blop arrived with the bug-catching net that no one had been able to find earlier.

They also brought with them a feline blur that I caught mid-leap, just before Telly snatched an aura puff out of the air.

“Not for you,” I said, heart beating wildly. “Let’s get you some proper cat treats that don’t belong to a paying customer.”

Blip and Blop exclaimed loudly at Telly’s speed, my reaction time, and the fact that they’d had no idea she was there; they were sorry they almost got the cargo eaten.

Captain Sunlight repeated, “No harm done.” She waved me off to my quarters with the disgruntled cat, and spoke to the others about plans to notify the customer of just what kind of danger fee he’d brought upon himself by not properly securing his chaos-causing animal.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[davidheather]

Ultimate Workout Pack

Hey everyone, here is the highly requested Ultimate Workout Pack featuring 32 packages! This pack has 5 functional fitness items your sims can use as well as 27 decor items to fully furnish their home gyms. With all these items you will never need another fitness package for your sims to workout in style. We hope you will enjoy these pieces as much as we do 🤗

Included:

Ab Roller - 8 colors Baseball Bag Boxing Equipment - 3 colors Boxing Set - 3 colors The Boxer - 5 colors - Functional Crossfit Style T Rack Energy Pills Football Bag Gym Bag Gym Storage Rack Home Fitness Kit - Functional as Wardrobe Home Gym Incline Bench - 2 colors Sandbag Bag Sports Drinks - 5 colors Supplements 1 Supplements 2 Supplements 3 Towel Set 1 - 10 colors Towel Set 2 - 10 colors Training Dummy - 5 colors - Functional with Strangerville Training Dummy - 5 colors - BGC Decor Treadmill - Functional Ultimate Home Gym - Functional Weight Bench Weights 1 - 5 colors Weights 2 Weights 3 - 10 colors Weights Storage 1 Weights Storage 2 - 5 colors Workout Bike Yoga Set - 5 colors

Total: 32 Packages // 5 Functional Fitness Items

All LODs // Custom Thumbnails // HQ Mod Compatible

DOWNLOAD

Conversion // Do not recolor or convert // Do not re-upload

Instagram: @davidheather.sims

Pinterest: https://tr.pinterest.com/bergdorfverse/david-heather-for-sims-4/

[redsrooftopprincess]

Hi! How are you? Hope you are doing well! I didn’t see any mention of you ask box is open or not so take your time to answer this! ♥️

Id like to ask for a scenario or Headcanon with the tmnt boys x reader about a situation that happened to me recently, I was venting about work with a friend and she out of the blue just “can I take a picture of you? You look so pretty right now” and proceeded to tell me she felt like she was living the “bla bla bla place name, back story stuff” meme? (If you are not aware it’s basically a meme where someone is going on a full rant and the other can only see them through being pretty and ethereal, even when talking about something super serious 😂) I busted out laughing when she mentioned, I thought about the boys going through the same would be super funny, Maybe their crush doing mundane things and they are literally heartened for it?

If it’s too complicated to do allllllll of them I’d like ask for this to be a donnie scenario then 🫶 I know you are a ralphie girlie (which I adore your stuff for him like it’s so good??? Seriously I’m eating it up your recent posts) but if you feel comfy doing it all or just Donnie it will be more than welcomed!

thank you and hope you have a good day!

I'm unfamiliar with the meme, but I think it's from the LEGO movie? Anyway, I hope this is okay. 😂

Distraction

Donnie x reader

No warnings, just fluff

It didn't take much, and it was so damn frustrating. Especially while he was working.

Donnie restarted the sequence again from the beginning. He needed to get these disks calibrated before the next time they tangled with the foot, but for SOME reason YOU exist, and your soul purpose in life is to torture him.

A scent, a sound, the smallest indication of your existence pulls ALL his focus.

Right now, you're in the living room watching a movie with Mike and Raph, and Donnie just has this *last thing* to finish before he can disengage and join you, but now you're laughing and he's lost count again.

He sighs, ripping his glasses from his face and rubbing his eyes. Replacing his glasses, he glares at the lab's door. He knows he should close it, of course he should close it, closing it is the only way he's going to get anything done.

But the door was in view of the couch and you'd think that was rude, right? He didn't want to be rude...

No. You'd get it. Especially if he could finish up quickly and join you for the rest of the movie. Okay, he was gonna close the door. He nods resolutely to himself before scowling.

An IQ of 187 and somehow you're constantly turning him into an idiot.

He sets down the disk he's working on and stands, walking over to the door. He hears you laugh again and makes the mistake of looking up at you.

Whatever movie you were watching forgotten, Mike and Raph are listening to you tell a story about something that happened at work this week.

It's inane, something about an argument in the break room over the new coffee machines, but the colorful fairy lights scattered about the lair have caught in your hair and eyes, and he is trapped in your spectrum.

It occurs to him that you can't see it. The depth of you. The reds and pinks in your skin when it flushes with laughter, the blue cableing of your veins beneath. Tetrachromacy is an advantage that he's not sure he ever fully appreciated until just now. And it breaks his heart.

There has to be a way to show you. There's light filtering technology that help people with colorblindness. It couldn't be that hard to retrofit a pair of those glasses to fit custom lenses. He'd need to examine your eyes specifically, of course, to ensure his measurements are correct, but he already has the glass grinding equipment, and people are constantly throwing away frames, and it takes him a moment to realize that the room has gone quiet.

He blinks and his eyes refocus to find the three of you staring at him, standing dumbly in the doorway, staring at you.

"You good bro?" Mikey asks.

"Yeah," he squeaks, before clearing his throat, "Yeah," he corrects, "I'm good. I'm just gonna, uh... finish up in here. I'll be out in a few."

You smile at him and he nearly trips over... the door? God, he's a mess. He closes it quickly before he can make an even bigger ass of himself.

He walks back over to his current project and sits back down. He stares blankly at the laptop and scattered pieces of tech for a few moments before sighing heavily and pushing everything aside.

He pulls out a notebook and starts sketching a pair of glasses.

...

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress

[sionisjaune]

George/Alex sex shop meet cute, ft. George's questionable customer service skills and unquestionable knowledge of inventory:

Alex finds himself in the sex shop because he has decided, after great deliberation, to face up to the fact that he is a bisexual man, and his occasional hookups require more equipment than he has in his flat. 

He tugs open the door which boasts a cheery little welcome sign that is quite possibly adorned with an anthropomorphized, ejaculating penis, and tries not to flinch when his eyes meet row upon row of phallic objects in glossy packaging. The bell on the door jingles as it swings shut, and Alex crams his hands in his pockets, surveying the aisles. 

Choosing to get the job done quickly, Alex rocks up to the first aisle and strolls past the shelves decisively. He chooses a dildo at random and pulls the box off the rack to examine it. The packaging reads EXTRA LARGE HOG in graffiti letters with a grinning devil waving a pitchfork underneath the logo. The dildo itself is grossly fleshy in a shade that would imply that the phallus’s owner (if it had one) was suffering from jaundice. 

Alex flings the dildo back on the rack, repulsed. God, maybe his own cock will have to do. He doesn’t know if he has the stomach to stay in the shop for long enough to make a purchase.

He’ll call Lily, he considers, backing away from the shelves. He’ll ask her where she bought her cute little rose thing and then order online with a hand covering his face, peeking through the cracks between his fingers. People have told him he’s good in bed, right? He wouldn’t get any less ass if his nightstand drawer remained empty of dildos and cock rings and butt plugs and whatever other horrifying—

While Alex spirals about the state of his sex life, someone down the aisle coughs. 

Alex’s heart skips a beat, and he nearly springs backwards, his trainers squeaking on the floor while he regains his balance. 

“You really shouldn’t buy that one,” says a pale, pinched, and actually rather fit employee standing two metres away from Alex. His hair is floppy and a rather ordinary brown, and his collared shirt is buttoned to the throat. His name tag reads George. 

“Beg your pardon?” says Alex, and nearly chokes swallowing his own saliva. 

“I said you really shouldn’t buy that one,” says George, sweeping a hand through his hair and frowning. “If you’re shopping for a missus, studies have shown that thermoplastic elastomers can disrupt reproductive health.”

“Missus,” says Alex, rolling the word over on his tongue. “Thermoplastic elastomer.” 

George blinks owlishly. “Yes. And if you’re shopping for a mister, TPE is porous, so it’s very difficult to properly sanitize,” he explains.

Alex shakes his head. He glances at the wall of dildos in their gaudy packaging and then back at George. His lanyard seems to be patterned with the same little walking, grinning pensises that the welcome sign bore. 

“What’s TPE?” says Alex, for lack of anything better to do with his mouth.

“Thermoplastic elastomers,” says George. “I just said.” 

“And those are?” says Alex. 

George runs a hand through his hair again and sucks in a breath. He steps towards Alex—which causes shivers to course down Alex’s spine, for some reason—and points towards the EXTRA LARGE HOG box. 

“Look,” he says, pointing to the corner of the box which bears writing so small Alex can barely read it. “TPE. Not body-safe.” 

“So,” says Alex, information whirling in his head. The fluorescent lighting is giving him a headache. The glare glancing off all the clear plastic packaging gives the sex shop a dream-like quality, like any second Alex will wake up erect and sweating through his covers. “So, why would it be on sale if it’s… not body-safe?”

“You see,” says George, his eyes lighting up. “Since sexual enhancers are classified as novelty items rather than therapeutic medical devices, manufacturers are able to exploit a gaping loophole and produce products for cheap using unsafe materials. For example, our top-selling Starbright Bangers—” George gestures to a display of pale, jellylike dildos of increasing length and girth. “—contain phthalates which have been shown in male animals to precipitate a greater risk of malformed penises, and—” George’s jaw snaps shut. 

Alex inhales, his hands balled in his pockets, staring straight into George’s giant eyes. “You can keep going,” says Alex. 

“No, I—” says George. “No. I’m done.” 

“So,” says Alex. He pulls his fists from his pockets and forces his hands to hang limply at his sides. “So I’m looking for a dildo.” 

“Ah,” says George, blinking again. “What kind of dildo?” 

Alex swallows. “Any kind? I’m not exactly an… experienced buyer?” 

“Okay,” says George, tilting his head back and forth. “Alright. Do you know what you like?” 

“It’s not for me,” says Alex, quickly. “It’s just that I want to… spice things up, in the bedroom.” 

“Ah,” says George, again. “So we’re looking for something versatile.” He spins to face the aisle, scanning the wall of dildos. He glances towards Alex, his dark brows furrowing. He really is rather pretty, Alex thinks. Pretty in that prim, poncy way that boarding school fantasies are supposed to be. Not that Alex has ever had any of those. 

“You never did tell me whether you’re looking for a missus or mister,” says George. 

“Either. Both,” says Alex, throat dry. 

George hums, tapping his foot. He squats to the floor, tugging a box off the lowest shelf. “Try this,” he says, handing it up to Alex. 

Alex turns the box around and squints at it meaningfully. The packaging is rather nondescript, offering a photo of the product (slim, blue, rechargeable) and the product name (SKINNY SATISFIER). 

“Great,” says Alex, pinning it under his arm. “Perfect. I’ll get this. Thanks for your help.”

George unfolds from his squat, rising to a height that’s maybe just a millimetre shorter than Alex. “You don’t want anything else?” says George, making his big owl eyes again. 

“I’ll just be on my way,” says Alex, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. “Thanks a bunch.” 

George’s mouth opens and then closes, a bit like a fish. Then it opens again. “You should probably get an anal plug,” says George. “Very popular. And you can get them without rhinestones on the bottom, if you're worried. We have all sorts. Hold on a second.” 

George dashes down the aisle while Alex remains frozen, dildo under his arm. When George returns, he’s carrying an armful of boxes. “Here,” he says. “Pick the one you like.” 

Alex eyes the mountain of boxes and the product images he can see. Some of them are rather feminine. He supposes he could use them on a girl. Or on a boy of a particular persuasion.

“They’re all… body-safe?” says Alex. 

George rolls his eyes. “Stainless steel. So, obviously.” He makes meaningful eyes at the heap of boxes in his arms. 

“Great,” says Alex, plucking one at random off the top. 

George lets out a breath and dumps the remainder on a shelf strewn with bottles of novelty lube. “I can ring you up over there, if you like.” 

“Oookay,” says Alex, fisting his dildo in one hand and his butt plug in the other. He follows George up to the cash where a scary-looking girl with teased hair and a lip piercing is ringing up a complicated leather harness. 

“Here you go,” says George, when he’s finished scanning Alex’s items and has presented Alex with a (thank God) plain paper shopping bag to carry them in. George plunges his hand into a jar beside the register, pulls out a handful of foil packets and drops them in Alex’s bag. “Every customer gets a free scoop of lemon sherbet flavoured prophylactics with a purchase of thirty pounds or more,” George explains. 

“Brilliant,” says Alex, wondering when he’ll wake up. 

George waves, his lanyard swinging against his shirt. “Shop again soon!” 

[carrysports]

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[shira-cosmic-star]

Your Wish Me Mell reader headcanons were really cute. If it's not too much trouble, could you write a part 2 for this but with the Jabberwock boys + Lyca + Sho?

Have a cookie for your hard work 🍪

Wish me Mell pt2 

Tags: Gn! Reader, 1,737 words, & Fluffy

Warning: None

(Image credit to the original artist)

Haru: 

He spends his time and money taking care of the animals. MC also comes by and assist with the animals too. Though, Haru mostly allow them to take care of Peekaboo. Feeding him, bathe him, and put him to sleep inside his pin or in their own arms. MC did try to help Haru with more task. Unfortunately, MC’s clumsiness got in the way. Spilling the animal’s food, tripping over equipment, dropping things, and more. So, Haru has them to do super easy and simple tasks.  

When MC would often come by to not only help out. But they needed documents signed and turned in. On their way there, MC would take care of Peekaboo. 

While fixing the bottle for Peekaboo, MC accidently made a mess by spilling a little bit of the formula. 

They quickly went to find a wash rag to clean it up. As they run around to find one in the kitchen. They keep on running into the edge of the furniture. The kitchen counter, the stool to reach things in high places, the small table and the chair. 

After cleaning up the mess and began to feed Peekaboo, Haru came back inside. He looks over to MC and Peekaboo, they were sitting on the couch. He noticed that MC has a bruise on their arm. 

He had asked them what happened and they told him. He smiled and shook his head. He could image how frantic they acted when it happened. 

Haru was used to Mc being extremely clumsy. Yet, He knew how kind, gentle, sincere, and positive they are. 

He even remembers how shy they were at the start. 

Sometimes MC would misplace things. Their phone, the documents, Peekaboo’s bottle, just about anything. Haru would find random things that he knows belongs to MC. So, he created a box for Mc. If they ever forget anything. They might find it in the box. Haru makes sure it is out of the animals reach too. Also, he knows that his dormmates wouldn’t touch it. 

______________________________________________________________ 

Towa: 

MC loves to hang around with Towa. As for Towa, he feels the same way. When Mc comes over, they made sure to bring flowers for Towa to munch on. Mc knows that most of the ghouls has an awful habit of not eating. So, Mc makes their lunches and brings it over. That, or she buys flowers and already made meals for the boys. 

Both of them would sit under a large oak tree and eats their lunch. Shortly after they eat. 

Towa place them between his legs and hug them from behind. Mc blushes as they try to get used to the cuddles. Lucky for Mc, they can soothe their anxiety by reading a romance teen book. Something cute and PG for both to enjoy. 

As they read out loud to Towa. He hums happily and holds them tighter.  

When Mc is helping out with whatever someone needs. They tend to be horribly disorganized. They start to freak out about where an item is. Rather that’s their phone, keys of their own or belongs to Haru, and etc. 

Mc begins to panic while Towa smiles and taps their shoulder. He had the keys and Mc’s phone. They thanked Towa and hugs him. He ended up demanding cuddles again. Of course, they couldn’t say no to him. 

Towa thinks Mc’s personality is extremely cute. Clumsy, Gentle, kind, and a bit of a scatterbrain. 

He enjoys their reactions and when he does talk. He tells them that too. Just a small teasing way. 

Also, when he does talk, he holds more of a conversation with them. They talk for hours until Mc falls asleep. Towa would let them rest on him as he admires their face before he falls asleep too. 

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

Ren:

Mc had volunteer to help Ren at the Mystery Diner. Boy, he regrets it. Even though they barely get any customers. Mc and Ren still had to clean up and get ready to take orders. Mc would accidently spill the mop water from the bucket. They would drop cups and plates on accident, trip from hitting their foot on the edge of the booths and chairs, slip on the water, accidently slipping the food or drink onto themselves, Ren, other workers, and even the customers. Mc, now sits on the floor behind the counter. Away from the eyes of the customers. Now, they were hugging both of their knees as they held back their tears. Ren sighs and thinks about how to comfort them. 

Ren heard that Mc’s was clumsy, he had no idea it would be that bad. 

Sure, more work was added for him. Though, he’d be lying about how interesting Mc had made his day. 

He was assigned to train them just as he was first trained. Ren saw the excitement their eyes. So, he began to teach them the things he knew and showed them where everything goes. 

When the first set of customers came in. The mess begins, Ren had to clean up the mess because Mc dropped the food. Their hands were slipper due to their nerves. They were confident at first, but then when people started to enter. Mc got nervous and that's how the tray of food slipped from their fingers. 

Halfway through the shift. Mc felt discourage, they were making things harder for everyone around them. So, now they sit behind the counter. Hugging their knees close to them. Ren tells them to take it easy and write down the orders. 

He also tells them, when the payment comes in. To place it in the system.  

Mc did get hurt during the shift, but nothing too major. Just scrape their knee on the floor. Ren got the first aid and attend their injury. 

Ren isn’t good with words, but he tells them to not worry about much and he’ll take care of most of the work. He fully knows that Mc’s tries. 

During their breaks, they would have their own lunch from outside the diner. They would also play video games or watch videos together. Ren usually does this when they come over during his lunch.  

When the shift ends, ren as them to watch movies with him to cheer them up from a hard day. 

______________________________________________________________

Lyca:

Mc was tasked with teaching Lyca. So, now they were at Rui’s bar. Lyca told to wash the cups as Mc had to hand out the drinks to the customers. Mc would try do give Lyca pointers on how to greet people and what tone to use. When Lyca spoke too roughly or aggressively. They would correct him kindly. Lyca noticed something though, Mc would accidentally trip over their own footing or bump into the edge of the bar. They even hit their elbow on the tables and walls. He grew concern and at the end of the night, he would ask them if they were okay. Of course, Mc tells him that there wasn’t anything to worry about. They have always been clumsy. He grumbles something, but Mc couldn’t hear it. 

Lyca started to pay more attention to Mc. He ends up tell Rui about them bumping into things and tripping on rugs, carpets, and their own footing. Rui freaks out a little and ask Lyca to check their arms and legs. It was just bruises, but Rui hands over an ice pack to help with any pain and swellings. 

When they are walking together, Mc trips over a root. Lyca, with his sharp reflex. He quickly grabs their arm and holds them up. 

Mc thanks him and he scolds them to pay attention. He huffed and pouted about how they could end up getting hurt with he wasn’t there. 

Once Mc come over to the dorm to visit Lyca. They recently fell down the stairs after missing a step. Their hands were full of paperwork and their school supplies. 

Lyca, saw that Mc was limping. “Oi! Why are you walking funny?” He asked. Mc told him what happened while nervously laughing. 

He had them to sit down as he takes care the tasks. 

To make it up to him, they would make him food and help him out with understand human’s language. 

Mc would also read to him. Showing him the pages while pointing out each word. 

When they are working and just hanging out. Lyca would ask them to read him to sleep. Sometime, both would fall asleep. 

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

Sho:

Mc loves Sho’s food, so they would often come over to buy lunch or dinner. Over the weekend, Sho said that he needed help prepping up in the morning. So now, they are at his food truck early in the morning, getting everything started. He did most of the cooking, while Mc did the dishes and wiping down the area. Mc knows how to simple things, but nothing fancy. Sho decided to teach her how to prepare the most common order. Though when he tries to teach them, many things went wrong. They burnt it, put the wrong ingredients, spilt it, or forgot something. He smiled and sighed, he even teased them and called them a scatterbrain. 

Mc struggled to make certain dishes because they learned out to do it in a different way. Or they were never taught how to use certain equipment. Sho never held it against them and remain patience. 

When Leo would come by, he taunts Mc into missing up a bit. Sho would tell him to leave them alone. 

He then tells Mc to not pay any attention to Leo. Causing Leo to roll his eyes and walk away with his lunch. 

Mc continues to work hard with Sho. At the end of the day. Sho treats them with their own favorite food as a reward for helping out. 

Every now and then Mc would help out Sho, if they see a huge crowd in front. Of course, Mc would still ask when he isn’t busy. He would agree and ask them to take orders and hand them to him. Mc would also hand the food over to the customers.  

Sometimes, both of them would walk together if they were heading the same direction. 

Sho feels grateful to have Mc around to help him since he could use another pair of hands. 

He really appreciates the kindness, thoughts, and efforts Mc puts in.

______________________________________________________________

(Finally finished! This took a bit to do, and I hope you all enjoy this. Please Like, comment, and Reblog. Reblogging helps a lot with getting my work out there. Also feel free to request in the " ask me anything" box.)

(Unedited)

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜☆

[steddieas-shegoes]

the last cupcake

for the @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round 4 (prompt: bakery AU) rated: M wc: 997 cw: vomiting mention (not graphic) tags: getting together, friends to lovers, baker Steve, musician Eddie

Eddie came in at the same time everyday.

Ten minutes before closing.

Always bought the last cupcake.

So when he didn't show up today, Steve got worried.

🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁

When Steve opened the bakery two years ago, he had no idea how wildly successful it would be, and how quickly he'd start to think of his regulars as family.

Eddie moved to town almost exactly a year ago, a tiny studio apartment only a few blocks away, not that Steve had ever seen it. He just knew because of how often Eddie complained that he was tired of not having room for all his music equipment.

Steve let him keep some of his less used equipment in his storage closet upstairs.

"That's what friends are for," he'd said at the time.

And then he went and fell in love with him.

It was the most ridiculous thing that did it, too.

Eddie came in, same as always, dripping wet from the rain that had kept most customers away all afternoon.

"Did you forget an umbrella?" Steve asked, amused by his wet dog look.

"Don't own one," Eddie said, shivering at the chill in the bakery.

Steve decided then that he could never imagine going a single day without seeing and talking to Eddie.

The next day, Steve gave him an umbrella with his cupcake.

"For next time. Don't want you to catch a cold or something just trying to get a mediocre cupcake," Steve shrugged it off.

"Mediocre?! You think I come here everyday for a mediocre cupcake?" Eddie grabbed his hand, and that was really it for Steve. "These are the best damn cupcakes I have ever had in my life, Stevie."

"Whatever you say, Eds."

🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁

He had Eddie's number, of course.

But they rarely spoke.

Sometimes Eddie would text him with a thumbs up emoji when a cupcake was particularly tasty or let him know he had to grab something from the closet.

As he closed up the shop, he couldn't help glancing out the front windows to see if he came running.

He didn't.

Steve locked up and went upstairs.

He couldn't shake the fear that something was wrong, though.

Hey, just wondering if you're okay. Missed you coming by.

Just a text to check in. That was normal between friends, right?

His phone went off a minute later.

Sorry. Got the flu. Didn't wanna give it to you

Steve's heart fluttered.

Need anything?

To die maybe

Steve laughed.

So dramatic. But really, you want me to bring you some soup?

You don't have to do that

I want to.

Eddie's response took a few minutes to arrive, but when it did, it was just his address and a smiling face.

Steve had never moved so quickly in his life.

He grabbed a can of soup from the cabinet, already a little upset that he didn't have time to make something homemade.

He grabbed the box with his last cupcake for the day, and rushed downstairs and to Eddie's apartment.

Eddie buzzed him in without saying a word, leaving the door unlocked for him.

Steve was welcomed by a loud groan coming from the bathroom.

“Eds?”

“Be out soon,” Eddie yelled to him.

He probably didn’t even need to yell; This apartment really was small.

He walked to the bathroom door and knocked once.

“You okay in there? I brought your cupcake. Your favorite,” Steve smiled as he rested his forehead against the door.

Eddie let out a long groan that was interrupted by gagging noises.

“Are you throwing up?”

“Yep. Almost done,” he replied.

Steve quickly hid the cupcake in the fridge, not wanting it to cause any further problems for Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie came out, looking sick.

He moved slowly, like it pained him to take a single step, and Steve felt his stomach twist.

“Hey, Eds,” he said softly.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie gave what sort of resembled a smile.

"I brought soup. Well, I brought a can of soup. I didn't know if that would help. It's probably not gonna be that good, but I could go get you something else if you want? Or-"

"Steve." Eddie was actually smiling now, a small one, but a real one. "If I didn't have the flu, I would kiss you."

"Huh?"

"You think I come to your bakery every single day because I love cupcakes so much?" Eddie asked, looking a bit green at the mention of cupcakes.

"Um...yeah?" Steve couldn't think of any other reason he would bother coming by.

"I mean, your cupcakes are the best I've had, but I come every day to see you."

Oh.

Oh.

"You like to visit me?" Steve felt like the ground beneath him was shaking.

Was it possible there was an earthquake happening?

"Of course I do. How could I not wanna see the hot baker who makes delicious cupcakes?" Eddie winked, then grabbed his stomach. "Hold that thought."

Eddie ran back in the bathroom and Steve could hear him gagging again, but he blocked it out.

Eddie came to see him.

When Eddie came back into the main room, Steve smiled at him.

"You know, you could have just asked me out. Probably would've saved you a lot of money on cupcakes," he said.

"But then I wouldn't have seen that cute little dance you do when you lean over to get the cupcake out of the fridge you keep it in," Eddie smirked.

"I do not do a dance!"

"You do!"

"You're delirious from dehydration. Let me get you some water," Steve said, actually turning to the kitchen cabinets like he knew where the glasses were.

Eddie's hand touched his lower back.

"Top left," Eddie's voice was low. "You know if I weren't throwing up nearly every 30 minutes, I'd probably take you to bed. Skip the date. We've been having them every day for a year now."

"You think this thing is a 24 hour bug or..." Steve asked.

"I fucking hope so."

[sunshine-theseus]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder | Jessie Fleming x Reader

Words: 4k Summary: you and jessie go through many ups and downs but things work out in the end Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of depression and taking medication for it, covid didn’t happen, pretending the game vs real madrid was at Stamford bridge not in Spain

Jessie Fleming and I met at the 2015 world cup, both freshly 17 and competing in our first big tournament. Despite the fact we didn’t play each other, I found myself stumbling into her on the sidelines of Canada’s game against The Netherlands. Words were exchanged but we didn’t see each other again until the next year.

We knew we were both on athletic scholarships for the Bruins at UCLA and promised to try and meet outside of training to keep in contact without sport. It was surprising however, when my box was knocked out of my hands as I crashed into the young Canadian, both of us trying to enter the same room. She was clearly struggling to see over her own stuff, stumbling over words as her cheeks flush a very familiar red, trying to apologise.

“J, if you say sorry one more time I’m asking for a new roommate. Which I had no idea we were until now.” I crouch to pick up my books and writing equipment that was in my box as Jessie tries to manoeuvre to her decided side of the room.

I give up and rush to help her when she stumbles over her own foot and nearly goes flying.

“Jessie! You’re going to break something before the season even starts Jesus Christ be careful!” my hands gripped her waist tightly to stop her from tilting forward, then I grab the top box so she can actually see. The same red blush covers her cheeks.

“Sorry, my mum just insisted I try to take all my stuff in as little trips as possible, which is proving to be difficult. I’m sorry about your books.” With her stuff firmly on the ground she finally looks as me.

“They put the Australian and the Canadian in the same room knowing we just basically kicked you out of the Olympics?”

“You did not!” the joke was rare coming from her. She was funny and kind but still rather serious and shy, preferring studying statistics and players over team bonding or spending time with people after a game.

I understood that, I felt that, and that’s how we worked. Us against the world. We trusted our team and confided in them, but we’d really only want each other in times of need. Obviously there were people like Sam or Christine, who were like our big sisters for our respective national teams, but Jessie and I were just drawn to each other.

-

After UCLA came Chelsea. Both of us were about to start our last year of uni when her offer came through, far before mine.

By this point we’d been inseparable for four years, so I worried we’d be split; her making the move to England and me stuck in our dorm. Except it’d be much emptier and lonely, or filled with some stranger’s things.

And it was just like that. Time zones caused issues with keeping in contact. Eventually that became other things. Study, because she still had to finish her course. Team bonding, practice. What would be a call once a day became once a week until it filtered out, and her texts would be answered in seconds while mine sat in wait for whenever she decided she was free.

My offer came in the January transfer window. Emma had been in contact with me for a couple months, clearly trying to convince me, and 6 months ago I wouldn’t have even thought about it. But when I stare at the ‘merry Christmas’ and ‘I got the offer’ messages left unread and think about seeing the girl I thought would never leave me, I take the time offered.

And a week later I find myself sliding into Sam’s spare room groaning into the pillow as she fusses over the Australian snacks I did manage to get through customs.

“What’s got you in a mood chickadee?” I feel the bed dip beside me and her hand rubs my back.

“J.” the older Australian lets out a hum before taking a moment to reply.

“She talks about you all the time. About how much she misses you and everything you got up to at uni. All of which I already know because I hear it every camp.” I can feel the joking eye roll despite not seeing it.

“She talks about me but doesn’t talk to me. That means nothing. And I know she’s busy but so was I. Just because I was captaining a university team instead a stupid professional team doesn’t mean I wasn’t busy or doing something important! And I still kept in contact!” by now I’ve rolled over onto my back and started fiddling with Sam’s tattooed fingers, trying to distract myself from the pit of loneliness and despair that’s been slowly eating my stomach.

I dare not mention to anyone the decline in my mental health or the required psychology sessions Emma was going to provide for me once every few weeks. Everyone knew I was sad and that’s all they needed to know. But once upon a time, Jessie would have known everything, holding my hand tightly the whole way.

“You should sleep, big first day tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast. Alarm-”

“8:30, I know. Every day, same time. Thank you Sam, really.” She smiles and pats my head before leaving.

-

To say my first day didn’t go well would be somewhat of an understatement. At exactly 8:30 my alarm went off. At 8:32, the pill bottle rattling at the bottom of my bag was fished out and 1 was being washed down by water. At 8:43, Sam was banging on my door calling for breakfast and I was rushing to make sure the pill bottle was hidden after changing. No one needs to know I’m taking anti-depressants, including Sam.

When we pulled into Cobham, I started to feel sick, and I told Sam just that.

“I’ll catch a train home.”

“It’s just nerves, you’ll be fine.”

“No-”

“You stay until at least lunch time, then we’ll see.” A pointed finger is shoved into my face, but I begin to stroll alongside her anyway.

I do almost book it for the nearest train station as soon as I enter the locker room. Sitting in the cubby next to mine, tying her shoelaces, is Jessie Fleming. During the chaos of the move and my first day, I manage to forget the way our numbers are right beside each other.

“You’ll be okay. You don’t even have to talk to her.” Sam whispers as she makes her way to her own cubby, greeting people on her way through.

So I try. Placing my bag in the nook and beginning to change into my training kit without the Canadian even looking up. It’s when I place down the same styled Tiempo Legend 8s I’ve been wearing since they released, that I can see her head turn from the corner of my eye. I don’t acknowledge it, continuing to slide the boots onto my feet and tie them up. But that doesn’t stop her.

“Oh my god! Hey!” there’s a lightness in her voice that I used to be so familiar with and it makes my heart clench.

I take a moment before deciding replying would be too rude for my liking.

“Hi.” Short and simple, and quite blunt.

“I didn’t know you signed, or that you even got the offe-” forget being nice.

“You would’ve known if you bothered to keep in contact with me.” With that I slide out of my seat beside her and make my way to Sam.

-

It gets worse when Emma splits us into pairs for dribbling drills, and she slides me toward Jessie.

“Of course.” I sigh but accept my fate as a ball rolls our way.

“What’s wrong?” a phrase that, coming from her mouth, used to have me spilling every small emotion I was feeling.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Come on Beans, tell me.” The nickname had been created in our first year of university. She learnt I loved green beans and I’m rather tall, so the name fit. But she didn’t feel like the same person who I let make the funny name.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Because I moved?”

“No! You left for Chelsea and I was happy for you, we had a plan to stay in contact until I followed along to somewhere in England. But you stopped trying. You stopped answering. You left me alone when I needed you the most. I would’ve done anything for you to have the career you deserved but you got it, without me. I just thought I’d still have my best friend when it happened.”

To say that training was tense from then on wasn’t a stretch. Emma never paired us up and any time one of us entered the locker room, everyone else would wait in silence for a burst similar to the one on the pitch. It never came.

It was after my first session with the psychologist that things began to change.

Because the psych was only here for me, Emma was kind to lend her office to us for the 50 minutes while she did other work around the grounds. I assume the girls were grateful to escape the tension for the moment.

“Same time, 2 weeks from now! It’s good you’re making progress!” The rather lovely lady shouts just as I’m closing the door, waving and smiling in thanks.

But as I turn around, I nearly bump into a small figure. A rather familiar one at that. Jessie begins to fall backwards but I grip her waist, holding her in place. It’s a familiar scenario, the feeling of my hands on her waist and her burning red cheeks are something I struggled to ever forget.

“T-thanks” her cheeks burn that same red.

“No worries.” I mumble in reply as I remove my hands, taking a step back.

“Who were you talking to? That didn’t sound like Emma. And what are you making progress on?” the questions don’t come rapidly but I still struggle to process them. Jessie’s smart, she can put two and two together, so I should tell her. But what if she laughs? There was a time where the thought wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, she’s not that type of girl. But things change.

“I- I-” Jessie places a gentle hand on my arm and nods, confirming it’s okay to take my time, but please continue. I sigh.

“She’s a psychologist.”

“A sport psychologist?”

“Well yes and no. I… I’ve been diagnosed with depression, and Emma wants me to have someone professional to talk to.” Her grip tightens but I know it’s in concern.

“When- when did you…”

“A couple months ago. Don’t worry, it wasn’t just because of you, a lot of things happened.”

“But it was partially because of me. I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been. You’ve always been there for me and I got here and treated you like shit. Discarded you like you were nothing. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” tears well up in her whisky brown eyes, but I smile.

“J, if you say sorry one more time, I’m asking for a new roommate for the away match against Man City. Which I did know we are… for once.”

“You can’t just forgive me.”

“I’m not, it’ll take time, but I want my best friend back. Sprout.” Jessie charges forward and wraps her arms around my waist.

“I’d do anything.” Her voice is muffled as her head presses into my chest, but I smile.

~~~~~

Things changed once again a few months after that. The 2020 Olympics had been delayed due to natural disasters, but we still found ourselves milling around the Olympic village together in our very little spare time. I also found myself admiring her for every little thing, every detail. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I’d developed a crush on the girl.

“What’s going on in that busy brain of yours?” Jessie had been by my side every step of the way with my mental health after she found out, and this question wasn’t uncommon, but the answer would be.

“I know this could ruin things, I’m very aware of that, but I have to tell you now otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to.” Gaging her reaction was difficult, Jessie was a very stoic person.

“I-, I’ve found myself growing feelings for you. Feelings that surpass best friends, or how I feel when you show up for me. I like you, a lot. And I need you to know that. Standing in the middle of a pathway surrounded by half naked athletes in Olympic Village, I like you.” I look her in the eyes. Those burnt umber eyes, so warm and comforting, that always draw me in.

“I really like you too. Everything about you. I want to care for you and be there when you need me. I want to wake up in your arms and be able to admire every feature as the sun beams down on you like the miracle you are. I would even go as far as saying I desperately want to be your girlfriend.” I barely let Jessie finish what she’s saying before I lean down, a significant way, and kiss her with everything in me.

~~~~~

2 and a half years later and Jessie hasn’t left my side since. Most of our quarrels are just that, silly fights that are solved by the end of the night. We moved in together after 3 months and were rarely been seen apart.

That included tough games.

Real Madrid was our first game of the Champion’s League season, and we knew it was going to be hard. They were physical most importantly, so we had to play to that. We knew that when we were up 2-1 in the 78th minute.

“Jessie Fleming challenges Athenea Del Castillo, barley missing the ball and clipping Athenea on the foot! Oh, and the ref is calling for a penalty. I’m certain first contact was outside the box.” Is what would be heard by anyone watching the match through a screen, but you didn’t need a commentator to know the ref made an unfair call.

The contact was clearly outside the box and yet we’re forced to line up and watch Olga Carmona take the wrongly rewarded shot, me grasping Jessie’s hand in my own as a way to reassure her.

It’s obvious the referees are against us when Niamh makes a shot on goal, the ball sliding in, but it’s claimed offside. Something to do with Sam supposedly messing with the defence, another false claim. There’s nothing we can do when the final whistle blows and we’re tied, all of us dropping to the ground in exhaustion and disappointment.

After shaking hands with the Madrid players and briefly talking with Hayley to catch up and talk about things that happened between our last camp and now, I travel toward Jessie.

My girlfriend stands solemnly with her head in her hands. I managed to pull them away momentarily to see the tears drifting down her cheeks, but she’s pulling her hands away and turning around before I can ask what’s wrong.

“Darl, it’s not you’re fault.” I don’t want to invade her space while she’s upset so I walk around her and simply stand, hoping she’ll reach for me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Jess-”

“Leave me alone Y/n.” not another word is uttered as she turns toward Fran and Niamh and walks away from me.

I similarly turn to Sam and Erin, with a shocked look, jaw hanging and rejected tears looming on my water line.

“She probably just needs to be alone.” As Erin tries to comfort me, we all turn to look at the subject of the conversation, only to see her being comforted by Fran, Niamh and Ashley, despite her effort to insist she’s fine.

“Maybe I didn’t push hard enough?”

“No you should never push when they clearly need space.” Sam places a reassuring hand on my shoulder

“But why is it only me she needs space from? I’m supposed to be the one she seeks comfort in. That’s what girlfriends do.”

“I don’t know chickadee.”

-

I expect Jessie to already be back at our apartment by the time Erin drops me off. Our shared car had been taken from the parking lot at the stadium and Jessie had disappeared, so those dots connected themselves. But our designated parking space is empty as I stroll along the bitumen.

There are no familiar white shoes next to the door in the same exact spot she puts them every day, no kit bag hanging on a hook, waiting to be washed tomorrow. No Canadian waiting in our bed, curled up in one of my already oversized shirts or hoodies and shorts, begging me to hold her.

I try not to worry when I call her and she doesn’t pick up. Maybe she went the long way and there was traffic? So I call Niamh to ask her if she knows where Jessie went. She doesn’t have an answer. Then I try Fran, and Zecira, and even Emma.

I ask everyone to try and call her too, Sam offering to take Kristie and search every corner of London, Erin offering the same. It’s midnight by the time I give up trying to contact her, asking Aggie if I could borrow her car tomorrow to look around if she wasn’t back, her living down the road from us. The young forward is insistent on joining me if it comes to it.

When I wake up the next morning and find Jessie curled up against me, in one of my hoodies and shorts, relief washes over me. Her brown curls are messy, her soft pink lips cracked open to allow air into her lungs. The sun trickles in through the curtain and lights up her face, freckles looking like bursts of light against her skin. Her eyes are still puffy from last night and tears have dried upon her cheeks, and I can’t resist the urge to reach up and lightly wipe them away.

As my thumb drags across her tan skin, tracing her face, her eyes flutter open, and I remember how easy it is to get lost in them. So warm and inviting.

“Mornin’ honey.” I press a gentle kiss to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead and her eyelids.

“I’m sorry for last night. I just felt horrible, if only I didn’t make the tackle.”

“I know darl, but that’s what I’m here for. I love you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you yeah? I was bloody worried though.” Jessie nestles her head into the crook of my neck and nods, pressing her own kisses on any skin she could reach.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her up until she’s laying on my chest instead. My cold hands sneak under her hoodie and she jumps from the shock, swatting at my hands beneath the fabric.

“I reckon I make us some tea and brekkie and then we can do whatever you want all day. How’s that sound?” I flip us over so Jessie can go back to sleep for a while, but she clings onto me, pulling me down aggressively by the front of my old Chelsea travel shirt. Her lips press against mine with energy and love and I get caught up in the feeling. A moan slips past someone’s lips, which of us I’m not quite sure, but I slowly pull away, trailing kisses down her neck until I reach her collar bone.

“Let’s save that energy for later yeah?” I swiftly wink as I finally roll off the bed.

-

I’m making scrambled eggs when I feel Jessie’s arms wrap around my waist. She presses soft kisses across my back as I sway us back and forth to the slow jazz song spewing from the record player.

The next song comes on and I abandon the meal completely, turning off the stove and twisting myself in Jessie’s hold so I can face her. I take one of her hands in mine and rest the other on her waist, her spare landing on my shoulder.

“Put your head on my shoulder; Hold me in your arms, baby” the lyrics continue as we follow along, her head resting against my chest, my chin balanced on top. We dance slowly through the kitchen, the music carrying throughout the house.

As the song finishes, I dip Jessie, leaning over her as her leg kicks out. My gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips and within seconds I’m kissing her again, still in the dip. When I pull her back up, she jumps into my arms and pulls my lips to meet hers for more, the force making me stumble back into the counter behind me.

“I want to slow dance with you around our house when we’re old and can barely kick a ball anymore. Our kids and grandkids playing around while it just feels like the two of us. Because it’s always been the two off us and I never want that to change.” Jessie whispers against my lips. My heart clenches with love as I take her in.

“Will you marry me?” The words escape both our lips almost in complete synchrony. I almost drop her, but my grip on her thighs upholds as I kiss her again, and again, until I can’t kiss her anymore.

-

“I stole this video from Y/n’s phone not long after Jessie and her broke the news of their engagement. Y/n had texted me that morning saying she wanted ideas for a ‘day in the life of a woman in love’ video she planned on making that very day, and I knew that she would have forgotten all about the phone while she and the love of her life shared a special memory together.” Sam takes a pause to look at Jessie and I, sitting side by side at the front of the room.

“What isn’t shown in the video, is the ring that was sitting in the pocket of Yn’s shorts, waiting to be place on the only hand it was made for. The ring went with her everywhere for at least a month before this cute dance proposal. Every day in training, Y/n would tell me a new plan she had come up with to ask Jessie to marry her, and I always told her ‘you should do it when the moment feels right. Don’t force it.’, as I clearly had experience with this sort of thing… And she told me that was a bunch of absolute bullshit.” Our friends and family laugh while my wife’s face drops in shock, her elbow lightly nudging my side. I let out a snicker and kiss her cheek, wiping off the lipstick residue that is left behind.

“Well it turns out I was right. As always. And I’m honoured to be standing here as a best woman in front of two of my best friends, the most amazing young players out there, two people who were made for each other; sculpted by the stars and the earth, to be in each other’s lives, celebrating that love. You’ve both overcome a lot, personally and as a couple, you deserve this love.” A tear escapes my eye as I stand to hug Sam.

“Now can the two nerds please make their way to the dance floor for their first dance?” I take Jessie’s hand in mine and pull her along.

Her suit coat is left on the back of my chair and her waistcoat is unbuttoned and she looks fucking good. Her hair rests on her shoulders and her slack pants fit perfectly around her thighs. Jessie holds part of my dress train, so we don’t trip as we hold each other in similar fashion to the day that led to this, the same song playing on the large speakers in each corner of the room.

“Put your head on my shoulder Whisper in my ear, baby Words I want to hear, tell me Tell me that you love me too”.

Jessie stands on her tippy toes, my heels not helping our height difference.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

This 1953 Muntz Jet convertible underwent a three-year custom build under previous ownership, and it was purchased by the seller in 2021. The car is powered by a fuel-injected 5.7-liter LT1 V8 engine paired with a four-speed automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end, and it is finished in Apple Pearl with a white Carson-style removable top over gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery. Features include custom bodywork, an Art Morrison frame, power-assisted steering, four-wheel disc brakes, airbag suspension, Painless Performance wiring, and more modified and fabricated details. This custom-built Muntz is now offered with a copy of Rodder’s Journal magazine featuring a story on the build and a clean California title in the name of the seller’s business.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The steel, aluminum, and fiberglass body is mounted on an Art Morrison ladder frame that was boxed and finished in semi-gloss black, and the floor was raised 3″. The exterior was repainted in a Sherwin Williams two-stage Apple Pearl mixed by the late Stan Betz. Features include a chopped Duvall-style windshield, 1950 Chevrolet headlights, dual Appleton spotlights, 1951 Ford Victoria side windows, and a white removable Carson-style top fabricated to match the height of the chopped windshield. Additional equipment includes color-matched rear fender skirts and chrome bumpers. Wear from fitting the top is noted on the rear deck.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Steel wheels sourced from a 1976 Dodge measure 15″ and are mounted with Cadillac Sombrero-style covers and whitewall tires. A matching spare fitted with a BFGoodrich Silvertown tire is mounted within a rear-mounted Continental-style chrome carrier. A Mustang II front end accommodates power rack-and-pinion steering , and the car rides on an electronically-adjustable Air Ride Technologies airbag suspension system along with 2” lowered front spindles, Strange Engineering tube shocks, a rear Panhard bar, and front and rear sway bars. The seller reports that the front control arm bushings were recently replaced.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Braking is handled by GM G-body-sourced calipers matched with Ford Granada discs up front and Ford SVO-specification calipers and discs at the rear.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The cabin was customized by Jim’s Auto Trim of San Diego, California, and features Glide bucket seats and a rear bench trimmed in gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery, along with matching treatments for the dash trim, headliner, and door panels. Additional equipment includes a 1952 Lincoln steering wheel mounted to a shortened Lincoln steering column, gray cut-pile carpet, and a Pioneer stereo housed within a custom center cubby.

The engine-turned “Hollywood” instrument cluster houses Stewart Warner gauges consisting of an 8k-rpm tachometer, a 160-mph speedometer, and auxiliary readings for fuel level, battery charge, oil pressure, and water temperature. The five-digit odometer displays 25k miles, though total chassis mileage is unknown. A Lokar pedal assembly was fitted during the build.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The Corvette-sourced 5.7-liter LT1 V8 features a polished fuel intake manifold along with billet aluminum valve covers, and additional features include an Opti-Spark distributor, a Griffin aluminum radiator, and a wiring loom sourced from Painless Performance Wiring. A set of long-tube headers are connected to a 2.5″ exhaust system equipped with dual Dynaflow mufflers. The seller reports that the oil was recently changed.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Power is routed to the rear wheels via a four-speed 4L60E automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end with with 3.55:1 gears and Strange Engineering 31-spline axles. Additional photos of the underside, drivetrain, and suspension components are presented in the gallery below.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The car was featured in issue #36 of Rodders Journal magazine