#cute curb appeal

[killstiles]

Cleveland Exterior

Mid-sized arts and crafts gray two-story concrete fiberboard exterior home photo with a tile roof

[kirlicues]

Very Tiny Victorian | Sims 2 Lot Download

Victorian homes are usually known for their spaciousness, but this one is small and dainty, like a tiny dessert! This home is the last one in my series of 1x1 lots (at least for now). The original 1x1 template was created by MaryLou at MTS.

Here’s the back of the house--just as cute as you please! Don’t you love that little weathervane on top? 😊

First floor: Clockwise from top left: stairway, kitchen, dining nook, and living room area.

Second Floor: Clockwise from Right, bathroom, bedroom, and office nook.

Very Tiny Victorian MF | SFS

All EPs and SPs are required.

I’ve run this home through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run this lot through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

This lot is CC-free!

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Clean Pack installer to install lot files.

[ravengards-rogue]

[ cage training | astarion ancunin ]

✧ tags : muzzles, bdsm, sub!astarion, gender neutral + dom!reader, reader is strong (offers to carry him), dirty talk, orgasm control, feeding (?), cutting (for blood), anal (m!recieving), service dom reader, petnames (my star for astarion) a lot of alluding to hunger, more erotica than smut but 18+

✧ wc : 4.8k (what if all just kill ourselves)

✧ a/n : i dont even like this guy like this im just mentally ill about submissive men. also this is a very "read whats on the tin and make good choices" sort of fic.. i know this kind of play might be controversial for beloved white boy but they have a very loving dynamic Okay. Alright. its about Love.

ALSO. this is ASTARION FOCUSED. so reader doesn't cum (though astarion makes up for it as implied)

this is a fluke fic i cannot recommend following me for this guy!!!written mostly for a friend. had a lot of fun with this though!!!

✧ synopsis : astarion relearns manners and discipline. he's rewarded for his valiant efforts.

He comes to you wounded. Save from the scar on the curve of his spine, it's not a physical wound.

Astarion approached you like a caged lion, a circus animal - a predator paraded like a house cat who has only just remembered his teeth. That's why your empathy extended to his greed even when it caused him to wear the worst of himself. You don't think Astarion has ever understood the fact that he's hungry. He's always hungry.

He inhabits a body pushed to failure. His hunger cues are almost as ruined as he.

Like an animal in captivity, every choice he might've had to make slipped between his fingers for many years. How to live, how to hunt. Hunger is the hardest to remember, though it leaves the longest impression. It's a condition of a wounded mind. He had long since forgotten a body that knows a need stronger than staying alive.

He always waited for the violent gnawing to set in, the kind that can be ignored until it can't.

And so, his hunger became his ruin, became his new captor. Astarion met you in the midst of that delirium the first time

Once you let a captive predator free, you've damned it. A caged lion cannot become uncaged. Survival instinct has all but degraded to nothing, leaving only a wounded animal in its place.

You must nurse it to health. Care for it as it renavigates the world.

Curb its hunger when it threatens to wreak havoc.

Sanctuary. Regiment. Retraining.

It's easy enough to discern what he needs. All tender with wounds that need to be licked.

The muzzle is fitted. A gesture of glimmering gold adoration among the steely black of whips and chains.

Astarion is beautiful. Tenfold on his knees.

The leather straps pull back slight against his skin, three in total clipped together at the back of his skull. The thickest strap flattens sweet white curls, thinner ones curved around his ears and jaw.

The structured leather cage, reinforced with metal, rests over his nose and mouth. It fits better than you could've hoped. There's a collar around his neck to match it, with a weighted chain in your hand. He's looking up at you with a softened gaze, ruby red and lidded. Needy.

The velvet of the loveseat dips comfortably under your weight as you sit. Astarion stays where he is. He's as pleasant as he's capable of being, hopeful as he scoots in closer to you.

He succeeds in acting cute, naturally talented in the art of being appealing. He scoots himself close to your legs and positions himself to rest his chin on the edge of your knee.

You meet his eyes amused. You let your hand brush along the pointed shell of his ear. Little goosebumps form in the wake of your touch.

"You should know better by now that those sorts of tricks don't work on me, hm?"

He huffs. "Well that's not true. They usually do work on you. Rather well, I would say."

You pause, taken aback, before relenting with a laugh His pout endears you. You let your eyes narrow a bit in knowing.

"Not like this though. You know that very well."

His frown deepens. You really do adore him. He taps his forehead against your leg as you bite back a smile, his muzzle making the touch briefer than he'd prefer.

"Gods. Of course I know but this, this is torture, darling."

Pleasant and noncommittal, your hand cups his nape. You pet him wherever you can reach, his head before slipping along his shoulder and against your lap. You settle at his back, tracing over raised scars.

A sorrowful hum leaves your lips. Neither of you believe it.

"Torture? Perhaps I've gotten too soft if this is torture."

"Oh you're so awful," He huffs, biting his tongue and choosing to rest against your leg in frustration for a while longer. "Sure, fine - torture is too perfunctory. But it's been terribly difficult! Where is your sympathy."

"What's difficult, Astarion?"

You're being cheeky asking him. After all your rules have been clear and reinforced well for the two tendays that have passed. You've been working hard on reteaching him patience. He used to be so patient, back when you were exploring and unsettled but you've let him take too much and now he'll interrupt you at any moment just to get what he needs.

(Astarion leans on you for guidance. Of course, he has himself - has his freedom that he took with bloodied hands and a broken heart. There’s many choices that he’s able to make for himself, some of them he can’t explain even to you. Whatever they are, they’re his to make and yours to support. 

It’s different though. Not having a choice, and someone making choices for him out of something inscrutable. You don’t bed Astarion until you fulfill the promise of killing his master. More accurately, you don’t lay so much as a hand on him. Only intimate, sparse touches. Only love. Only patience.

You’re disinterested in only having his body. His heart, and his mind, and his very soul - all of it. You want to grasp them so firmly and never let go. The chains and leashing and discipline are testament to what you want most of Astarion - and that’s all of him. You want to enrich him in every conceivable way.  Astarion deserves the granular finery of thoughtful guidance more than anyone. He's brighter when he feels special, after all. 

You’ve broken down the walls between you with a closed fist for this purpose - a not so quiet ask to love him by opening your hand. He’s given you the honor to let you think and act for him so he doesn’t have too. Duty binds you to reteaching him virtue.

It's a privilege to think for him. To wipe his bloodied mouth and care for his appearance prim and his mind sharp. No longer a matted beast but a loved, loved little vampire in the crook of your arms 

You’re not strict to no end. You'd rip the Astral Planes apart in search of what he desires, should he ask it of you, after all. 

Only the best for your immortal love. )

His neediness makes him more misbehaving. He’s been scaring away anyone who looks at you too long for business and otherwise, unable to keep his hand away from between your legs or his head in your lap. 

"Not letting me drink your blood for two tendays is unreasonable enough but on top of that," He's exasperated just explaining the dilemma to you. His muzzle is cool against your pant leg. "On top of that I'm not even allowed any relief. Despite all of your cruelty, you wicked thing. I never took you for such a sadist."

He scoffs. There's poorly masked lust in the last sentence. You stop yourself from smiling.

"Sadist? Really? I don't see it that way. Seeing you act so desperately all this time and keeping my hands neat at my sides... I'm a paragon of patience." You pull on the leash in your hand but don't pull him forward - though you tighten your grip. "It's…good to lead by example."

Excitement flashes over his face in a short burst. It's so brilliant you swear his eyes look white instead of red.

"You cheeky little—" He huffs at you. You smile warmly as he starts to curl in on himself. He already knows how to get himself what he wants. 

He gives up on pretenses. Briefly, just to beg, a monumentally hard thing. "Please. I can't take a minute more of this."

There's a croak to his voice. He has a hard time covering its tracks, even with his propensity for theatrics.

His throat is so thick with want. Something ripping at the seams of him and begging to be released.

"You've done well if it helps, but" You praise. He preens. Instantly. He squirms and wiggles around but doesn't move much more than that. "You act like I don't feed you."

"It is not the same, my love. You're well aware."

You ignore him.

"I even bring you human blood, don't I?" You tease, and his frustration darkens him. "I brought a beautiful and fresh body to drain just yesterday."

"Yes but," His hands turn to tight fists. He isn't sure what he wants to do with himself. You pet him a little more. "It's not the same, damn it. I want yours. Just yours. Just you,"

He adds the last bit quieter than the rest. Your expression is unchanged and cool though your heart might give you away with how hard it pounds.

"Just mine?" You tease. tugging at this leash a little. He makes a face like he's infuriated, a poor mask for embarrassment that endears you even more."Is that flattery?"

You're being a little mean this time. You'll make it up to him. He almost panics before he realizes just that.

"Gods you're insufferable," He complains with no bite. He's hoping for mercy you truly have no desire to give him. "You know that it's not."

"You speak so beautifully it sounds like it. Such sweet little noises you can make."

You let the heel of your boot press along Astarion's crotch. He makes one for you, involuntary - skin pink and sinful.

"See? How pretty."

Astarion is easy to bring to ruin as is. His own snark and disobedience is a poor disguise for that truth. A little tenderness and honesty makes him fall apart. Flirting back with Astarion goads him, though. Fuels his desire to win one over you. If you meet his cheekiness with more cheekiness, he won't relent at all.

Normally that kind of response would make him nip at you. It speaks to his desperation that it doesn't. That instead of making his own snarky remark, he tenses. A deep, shaky little breath. You could tip him over the edge through his clothes at this rate.

You're not so cruel. Not for today, at least.

"Sit up straight."

He does so without protest. You place a hand on his shoulder, the other one tight around the chain of his leash. Carefully, you drag your sharp nails down the front of his chest - leaving light pinkish marks on the pale skin. Over and over and over in light drags. His chest raises under the gesture, your nails scratching soft against his nipples.

"Hng," His voice is feather light. He's trembling at the slightest touch. His spine arches like he's trying to get more friction. "Don't you think you've proven your point?"

You let your palm drag down the smooth plane of his stomach, stopping at his pants. His cock twitches hard against the seam of his pants. You let a finger pull into the waistband, but don't go any farther.

"Not sure," You let the leash drop into your lap. You threaten to pull them down, but don't. Expression blank, you tilt your head to one side. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"My lesson," He repeats sarcastically. You feign innocence as you nod. "Really, darling?"

"I'm not so much of a tyrant," You let go, letting your hand cup the outline of his hard cock. "To torture you without reason, right? So what have we practiced?"

He stares. It must really be getting to him. "Patience."

"Yes. I ask you to be patient. Never kind, but patient. Because I'll give you anything you ask for if you wait. Things are better when you wait for them, right?"

He frowns in annoyance and disbelief. He's exasperated, rightfully - because you are messing with him. Just a little. "Right."

You squeeze his cock tighter. He hisses immediately, grinding into the touch. You blow hot air against his ticklish skin, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"So, have you learned your lesson?"

Your grip goes tight. Astarion craves the touch so badly. You doubt he's ever gone so long without anything at all - if the desperation he's rutting his hips with is anything to go by. His head drops heavy from his shoulders, his hands on the edge of the couch gripping for his life. Manicured nails digging into the cushion like it will save him. His voice is weary.

"Y-," He shudders but you don't let go. "Yes, I'm very sure I have."

"Oh, you're sure."

You enjoy bullying him. At a certain point, it bares itself out against all your own evading. Astarion knows it well enough, though normally it's through less truly intolerable means. Keeping him inside you soft or scraping orgasms one after another until he's too stupid too talk are favored between you.

Astarion likes being given a hard time, in general though. You're made for each other.

"Pretty little thing aren't you, my love?" You tell him, suddenly warmed. You miss the tadpole sometimes. If you could touch his mind right now, you would. Violate his thoughts with your own wants. You settle for a long stare. "So sweet,"

The anticipation makes his breath hitch. He goes completely limp in your grasp, weak and desperate. The weight of it all cracks and he looks up. His eyes glass over.

He shatters under his own need. "For the love of—please. I c-cant, I need to-"

"Shh." You quell him with a tender pet to his head. "You're looking at me so pitifully. Is it starting to be too much?"

He just nods. Your smile widens.

"You've been very patient for these two tendays, haven't you?" You lay it on thick. This is the part you like. You watch as Astarion goes boneless, the words reaching so deep into him he can do little more than collapse himself into your lap. You release all grips of him and let him hold against you soothingly, cling to your legs. "A very, very good boy for all this time. You're quite capable of it when you need to be, aren't you?"

He doesn't reply, but you can feel him melt into you further. For a minute you think you've broken him until you hear him mutter the softest yes you've ever heard.

(Astarion is not so easy to break, of course. And not so keen on opening up the softened wells of his heart to any stranger.

But he does break for you, and gods haven't you worked hard for that? It's a testament to all you've poured into him. Like you know all the right buttons to split him open tenderly.

And he lets you look. Touch and feel and cover your fingers with blood. He trusts you to stitch him closed.)

"Yes, that's right. You've learned your lesson now, and you're going to be proper and well-behaved because that's what good boys do. And Astarion is a very good boy. My very, very good boy."

He picks his head to look at you properly. He's darling. His face is flush, mouth turned into a soft pout and utterly, utterly desperate. His mouth is bitten, indented holes in soft lips.

"Yes, I'm. Please. I want you to touch me."

You aren't sure what you want to start with. He's being needy and you could almost feel guilty.

You pick up something from your side. A dagger from your days of travel. You unsheath it quickly, and let the blade cut along the tip of your middle finger. The blood comes quickly after, ruby red and thick. 

Astarion goes wide eyed. He’s hungry, so hungry - like he always is. But there’s something defeated in the ways he hesitates that make you relish. You push your finger through the cage of his muzzle and tilt your head. There’s mirth in your eyes.

“Go on,” You say, tease, mock maybe. “Eat.” 

He abandons restraint. All of it. You don’t make him work more for it. You push your finger down close enough for his mouth to lick at your wound and let your hand rest on the cage. He can’t get what he’s craving like this. The bone deep sensation starts to claw at him, a soft whimper tucked in the back of his throat.  

More. He wants more. Of course he wants more. 

“You look drunk.” You say, and there’s sharpness to your words. The ways in which Astarion is erotic have nothing to do with his theatrics. He is appealing when he’s giving up on everything but what he wants, always has been. “Have you missed it that much?” 

“Yes.” He supplements, letting his tongue run over “More.” 

You pull your hand away. “Take your clothes off.” 

You watch Astarion scramble to stand. You bring your dagger with you then reach over to the table beside you. Scented oils roll around in the drawer. You’re careful with the blade as you fish out a bottle of it, taking it in your hands. Astarion stands naked, the heavy chain of his leash brushing against his skin. 

“Kneel and lean on the couch, my love.” 

Astarion is the picture of obedience. He leans on his elbows on the couch seats, with his legs spread apart, leash in a pool next to him as he folds his arms and tucks his face. You stand on your knees behind him, admiring his back in the lowlights. 

Your hands rest on his thighs as you kiss up his spine. Small, short kisses all the way until you’ve reached the back of his neck. Your lips brush his nape, nose nudging against the metal of his muzzle. 

Something overwhelms you. Addicting, euphoric as your clothed body drapes around Astarion, free hand on his waist - moving up his stomach to toy with his nipples. It thrums through you, listening to the ragged anticipation and distraught way he moves. Against you, against everything. Aching for touch. 

You feel it overwhelmingly as you close in on his ear. Astarion huffs, long panting breaths. He needs this.

“Look at how naturally you yield to me now,” You all be coo. Astarion groans. Shuddering, your hand slides around his narrow waist and wraps a fist around his cock. He gasps. “You’ve become so pliable, so needy. But you know my star, I quite like when you’re needy.”

He hiccups and shivers and whines. “You’re the prettiest when you behave like the sweet little thing you can be, like I know you are. When you listen and yield and let me adore you in all the right ways. Such a sweet boy you can be, if only you let yourself.” 

“Darling,” His voice cracks. There’s a helpless quality to it. A little more, that’s all you need. “I — you —” 

You pull back and straighten your voice out, taking off Astarions muzzle after the valiant efforts he’s been making to wear it. It falls onto the couch unceremoniously. 

“I’m saying, well done Astarion. I’ll reward you for all that effort. I’ll slash another scar in my hand for you to drink from and then again in the evening when I’ve recovered,” You lean back on your legs as you make promises on your own words. “I’ll bleed for you until you’ve sated yourself and let you get drunk on it. Then, when you’re malleable, I’ll fuck you. Again and again and again until you’ve all but forgotten yourself. All but forgotten who exactly you behave for.” 

You open the oil and let it drip onto his back, watching mesmerized as it slips against every curve and crevice. When there’s enough to make opening him up easy, you stop and reach for your dagger.

The weapon  slashes over the same wound. You’ve done this tens of times now. You don’t let the scars heal with a potion or some kind of spell. Astarion is far from the comfort of romance, but it is its own promise. Your scar is his.

 The pain is brief, but it’s enough to feel it. You don’t flinch, though. When the blood finally seeps from it, you find yourself over Astarions back once again. 

You let your bleeding palms clamp over his mouth. It’s as close to sacred as you can forge between you. Astarion moans. It is shameless. Pitchy, high with want and utterly broken. He laps at the blood like a dog, his tongue sharp against the familiar wound. You can feel his body twitch beneath you, the muffled sounds of his voice.

There is no performance in that kind of pleasure, but the amount of arousal that spikes Astarion’s whole body never fails to surprise you. 

When he’s feeding from you, you busy your other hand with fucking him open on your fingers. Your dominant hand slips down the smooth curve of his spine, oiled skin soft and cool under your palms. He’s built like a dancer, beautiful curves. He’s a little softer now that he eats well. It looks good on him. 

You let your middle finger brush over his hole, relishing in the soft gasp he lets out as you do. Astarion’s aroused enough to accommodate you as you circle it. The tight ring of muscle is familiar, and welcoming to your touch. You don’t need to teach Astarion to breathe, don’t need to remind him of it. You can feel his whole body push along your hands as if urging you towards him. You’re too delicate about the matter for his time. 

Astarion is warmer inside than he is out. It fascinates you, makes your own stomach churn with want as your middle finger curves slowly. You pump in short motions until the resistance is all but gone. When you’ve made it as far as the knuckle of your middle finger, you start to search. You curl and press yourself against soft insides, search and search for what you’re looking for. 

Astarion lurches forward when you find it. The most pitiful little moan you’ve ever heard squeaks out from his lips, against your hand.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Right there?” 

Astarion makes noncommittal noises as you repeat the process again. Another finger, your ringer - spreading him open. Tight hole giving into your touch, filling him. Your mouth kisses the skin that you can reach. You peck and bite along the curve of his shoulders and all over his back as your ring finger penetrates him. His insides soften as you find your pace. 

You see his hands start to fidget, but you chide him before he can do it. 

“Not yet. You can touch yourself when I tell you too. Not before.” 

 Astarion needs more than this. You’ll give it to him, but patience is the virtue here. 

You don’t know how long that’s going to stick though. The way Astarion is shaking underneath doesn’t give you confidence he’s going to hold out long enough for you to take him apart like you want. You’ll give him something proper later, when he’s not so pent you think the slight brush of skin could make him cum. 

You do, desperately, want to see Astarion cum. But it has to be done the right way, or everything would go to waste in a single moment. You fuck him open on your fingers with a pinpoint pressure and accuracy, gauging his every move with the little gestures of his body. You know perfectly, know every inch of him inside and out like a book you’ve read page to page with the corners turned. The way he sways, lays intimately on the edge of cumming but never quite pushing himself over the finish line, speaks to that.

That, and the way he licks the blood from your palm like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted in his life. You can feel it, how messy it is - lapping at the split wound. Sharp unruly teeth digging into your skin, the soft breath of his nose tickling your hand as you cup his mouth. He licks so fervently, like it’s mouthwatering enough to die for. 

It doesn’t help the arousal between your legs. It’d be damning for him to know how affected you are by this. By him. 

“My beautiful boy,” Your voice is thick with desire. You can’t help yourself, the low possession laced it in. “Fucking perfect,” 

“My love,” The words muffle against your palm. You move your hand away to let him speak and his face moves instinctually to bury himself back in it. “P-please. Let me touch myself, it aches,” 

You weigh it for a minute, watching his body lurch forward as you fingerfuck him. You make a noise in the back of your throat, dropping your forehead against his spine - adrenaline making sweat drip down the crown of your head. 

“Poor thing. Aches does it? Touch yourself for me, Astarion. I want to see you make a mess.” 

He groans, hands moving immediately to fist his cock. You can hear it, the sound of him fucking his own fist like a wet, welcoming hole - cock wet and dripping with prespend. Astarions whole body starts to fall limp. His face pushed into the seat, little wet sobs spilling from his lips as he swears over and over. 

It doesn’t take any time for his body to give into the feeling of being pleasured from all angles. You feel his face nudge against your hand for blood as his muscles start to go tighter and tighter. 

“Shit,” He huffs, pushing himself back into your hands. “I’m going to cum.” 

You keep your other hand in place, pace steady. 

“Cum for me, baby. That’s it, easy does it.”

It happens so quickly you’re not sure if you should be impressed or if you should laugh affectionately. You can feel it, the way his hips stutter to a stop, his whole body grinding against you and holding tight to whatever he can cling to for purchase. His body weakens under the weight of your own, going completely tight like a bowstring before falling utterly helpless. Astarion moans loud when he cums, thick white ropes of it dressing the upholstery of the couch and falling to the floor. It’s an impressive amount. Save for what lands on the velvet, it pools thick and heavy. There’s so much, it’s like he can’t stop cumming. At least a minute passes before the twitching ceases. 

He lays there, ragged and weightless and limp. You take your hand away from his mouth and slowly ease yourself out of him as he stays and catches his breath. You press soft, warm pecks up his spine. 

You move away from him to give him some space to breathe, sitting back criss-cross on the ground. Astarion has no intention of getting up on his own, though. Before you can make sense of it, he crawls over to you. He must be worn out, given how willingly he’s coming into your arms in pure exhaustion. His cock is spent, soft against his belly and pink. He’s still naked and leashed. 

Still needy, but the lust has subsided if only a little. Astarion seats himself between your open legs. You laugh lightly, letting him rest in your side - face in the crook of your neck in utter exhaustion. 

“Hero of Baldurs Gate this, savior of the city that. I know evil when I see it, darling. Just outright cruel.” 

You break out into a laugh at the change in behavior as he pulls away to look at you. His eyes are remarkably watery. 

“That claim is undermined by that mess you’ve made on the floor there. Did you enjoy yourself?” 

He almost looks embarrassed by it, a pinkish tint turning the tips of his ears bright. 

“You’ve given me two terrible choices. I say yes and you think it’s a clever idea to do it again or I say no and I never experience whatever that was again in my life. A lose-lose situation.” 

“So you did enjoy it,” You say warmly. Astarion scoffs but doesn’t protest. “I’m glad. You’re very attractive when you’re pitiful.” 

“What despicable taste. I’m beautiful irregardless.” 

You let your head bump against his, and Astarion half-heartedly returns the gesture. “That’s true. A sight for sore eyes as they say.” 

“If you’re true to your word then I’ve earned a little more than just one,” Astarion purrs. Before that, he examines your (still bleeding hand) and picks your palm up to kiss. You grin wildy at his tongue lapping over the wound. “And you’re properly pent up, aren’t you? Let's get this cleaned up and let the real fun begin.” 

“Aren’t you insatiable today? As you wish, my prince. We can move upstairs.” 

He bemoans this. “You’ll have to drag my undead body up there if you’re asking me to get on my own two feet.” 

“Or I could carry you like a bride.” 

“A bride? How ostentatious. I’ll allow it.” Astarion says, then adds more quietly. “But we can stay… here a little longer first.” 

You hum against his skin, peppering his face with soft kisses; he doesn't turn you away from the skinship, which you’re pleased by.  “Of course my love,” 

He lays in your arms quietly and the thought reaffirms itself. You’d do anything for him.

✧ a/n : no one is more upset by the length of this than me. trust and believe this. also sorry for the yapping i just... posting this is so foreboding. it feels like that picture of spongebob who puts his hands up so a car doesn't fall on him. i am Afraid.

maybe ill write a part two of him eating box or something. we'll see. anyway thanks for reading </3. please do rb if you enjoyed. so scared to be in the tags for this.

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Wardrobe Malfunction

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 1.6k TYPE: Humor, Clothes Swap NOTE(S): For the purposes of this situation, reader is on the shorter side, and also because I feel like they have the evil of a short person in their soul. Also, same Y/n character as Dog Walking, but you don't need to read that to read this at all!

Despite whatever airs you put on, you like wearing your Bastard München uniform. Mostly because it makes you feel like a big shot professional, which appeals to your sense of self-importance.

You don’t think much of it when you slip on your shirt, but soon enough it becomes apparent to you that something is off. It feels wrong, too loose. And it’s falling down way lower than what you’re used to. You take a few seconds to scrutinize it in between owlish blinks, although the emboldened logo on the front doesn’t aid you in figuring out this mystery.

The easy way to check comes to you soon enough, and you lift your leg to see a traitorous ten in the corner of the shorts instead of your number. A look of horror takes over your face… No… You’re going to get Kaiser’s cooties. He is contaminating you with his germs.

You can already feel them loosening after the movement, and once you put your foot back down, they immediately slide off. With a huff, you grab them from the floor and resolve to strut up to the crux of your dilemma.

When you approach, Kaiser has his back on you, and you immediately notice the big eight, and the wrong name accompanying it. Ness is struggling to fit into the shirt he got, and while his jersey isn’t too ill-fitting on Kaiser, it’s too short, leaving him to fumble with the hem to try and hide the exposed part of his waist.

“It’s just like the pants, I can’t put it on,” Ness cries.

“What do you mean, you can’t put it on?” Kaiser asks before taking a handful of fabric and yanking down with too much force. “See, you can put it on just fine.”

“I can barely move! This is ridiculous-”

Oh, you see how it is now. Are they stupid, though? How have they been talking for so long without pinpointing the problem? You sneak behind Kaiser and reel in your arm before smacking him on the back with the shorts, exerting all of your might.

He lets out a grunt of pain you believe is overdramatized since it can’t have hurt that much, shoulders jerking up. “Whoever did that, I will fucking curb stomp y-” and then, after he whips around and sees you, the threat dies down on his tongue.

“Your dirty pants, sir,” you say in a fake fancy voice before throwing them at his face.

Kaiser flings them away on the bench, narrowing his eyes at you with this weird mix between taunting and adoring. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you. You’re so cute right now. Let me see.”

With this new positioning, Ness seems to finally realize what happened, too, because he says, “Wait, Kaiser, that’s… m-mine.”

Ignoring him, Kaiser steps around to examine you, and his ugly grin that you can’t stand grows even wider somehow when he reads his name. His name that’s on you because you’re wearing his jersey. “Holy shit.”

“You look like an imp.”

He disregards you with ease, too — you have to admit he’s good at this ‘only hearing what he wants to hear’ stuff — and opens his locker to rummage through it. Ness says, “You’re- you’re wearing Kaiser’s? That’s so unfair.”

“Yeah, and you’re wearing mine. Stand proud. You’re blessed. Millions would kill to be in your place. Everyone’s gonna wear this merch in the future, but you get the real thing.”

“You seriously live in la-la-land, it’s unbelievable.”

You spin your finger in the air, seeming way too pleased with yourself. “Do a little twirl for me, I wanna see how it looks on you all around.”

“I will NOT be doing that,” Ness denies with a huff. He’s so uptight when it comes to anyone who’s not Kaiser. Someone would’ve thought you have gangrene or that you asked him to clean roadkill off the street or something with the way he’s acting.

What Kaiser was searching for in such a rush turns out to have been his phone, you come to find out when he starts taking pictures of you without even a modicum of shame. Multiple of them, if the repetitive pressing he’s doing is indicative of anything.

“Don’t point your phone at me, you sick fuck,” you say, reaching out to cover the lens.

Your efforts go in vain, since he just lifts it up high where you can’t reach and continues. “No way. You’re just way too cute right now. I mean, shit.”

Mocking you aside, there’s this thinly-veiled wonder on his face, and it’s making you want to vomit because of course he’d be the type to get a kick out of stupid shit like this. He’s so fucking lucky, too, it’s pissing you off. Among the three of you, he’s the only one who’s kind of in presentable condition.

Once you come close to swatting the device out of his grasp with a jump, Kaiser presses his palm to your face and shoves you away, keeping you at an arm’s length. Then he diverts his attention to Ness, snapping photos of him now and laughing. “You look stupid as hell.”

“Nooo, Kaiser, don’t! Stop!” Ness says, red-faced, to absolutely no avail.

He even takes a few steps back and does a bad job of covering his stomach with his hands while inching towards the bench, which… he makes a genuine attempt at ducking under. This doesn’t deter Kaiser from continuing his paparazzi session or whatever it is that he’s doing, nor does it conceal Ness from view.

You detach your cheek from Kaiser’s hold and announce, “Don’t worry, Ness, I’m gonna save you from the vile pig,” before you take an unnecessary leap and stick your fingers where the shirt is riding up, tickling his sides.

This startles him enough to let go of his phone (the apparatus of evil), sending it flying. You at least have enough decency to catch it, since you’re not really above letting it shatter either. Then you start scrolling through it with the intention of deleting the photos.

It doesn’t take Kaiser long to recover from your attack, and when he does, he reaches out to you. You assume he’s just trying to get his phone, so you kind of twist around to try and prevent him from doing so, but what he does is much worse.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him before collapsing his stupid ass on the bench (which, at this point, has witnessed many horrors), leaving you to sit on his lap. Then — as if this isn’t offensive enough already — he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re such a touch-starved freak, it’s actually appalling.”

“You probably won’t look this good in your life ever again.” You roll your eyes at the stupid comment, and he starts tapping the screen along with you, and he even has the nerve to snicker. “I needed to be opportunistic.”

“Whatever, man.”

The weird battle results in a lot of random apps opening and closing, until eventually the gallery comes up on accident. With a feeling of triumph, you slap his hand away, so he won’t get in your way anymore. There you see the long string of pictures depicting Ness’s progression towards hiding under the bench, which, in your opinion, would make a great slideshow. Next are the images featuring you, where you’re looking up at him and struggling to even graze the phone, swiping your fists at thin air. Wow, you never thought you’d see your Great and Almighty Self from such a… pitiful perspective.

Before you can mope about how vertically challenged you are, however, something else catches your eye, and you burst out laughing, borderline dry-heaving from the acuteness of it. “What-”

Kaiser flusters and snatches his phone out of your fingers before pushing you up and away from him. This, for better or for worse, doesn’t wipe your memory or make you unsee the comically large amount of shirtless mirror selfies he has accumulated.

Despite your stumbling, you don’t fall. “How did you always manage to make the exact same pose and exact same expression in every single one of them?! Seriously. That’s spine-chilling.” You pretend to wipe a tear, even if it’s not that funny.

Kaiser doesn’t respond and turns around to toss his phone back to wherever he got it from. Ness — whose presence you kind of forgot about — deems it safe enough to stand up and reemerge. He asks, “What? What did you see?”

“His shrine of himself,” you say. “By the way, I think he’s a stripper.”

“I’m not a stripper,” argues Kaiser as if there was a possibility Ness might believe you.

For the first time, it’s Ness who is pretending Kaiser didn’t say anything. “Did you delete them?”

“No.”

He slumps, disheartened.

You make your way behind him. “Alright, let’s switch back,” you say, rolling up the material of your jersey. Surprisingly Ness accepts the help without any complaints and just accommodates you with a high raise of his hands.

You’re nearing the biggest problem area — his shoulders — when Kaiser deems it fit to intervene. “Ness, bend over. You’re taking too long.”

He does as told and Kaiser, for some godforsaken, idiotic reason, hooks his fingers inside of the collar. But you don’t see that since you’re trying to focus on your part, so instead you just comment on his willingness, “Slutty.”

“S-Shut up- Oh my god, don’t pull like that, what if it tears?!”

“It’s not going to tear.”

This exchange alarms you somewhat, so you shift your gaze to Kaiser, and what greets you is the sight of him tugging on the collar, trying to hoist it over Ness’s head. Your eye twitches. “If you damage mine, I’m gonna make good use of yours. Naturally what I mean by this is that I’ll use it as toilet paper.”

“It’s not going to tear,” repeats Kaiser, yanking harder. Apparently your collective lack of faith in him is vexing him.

… You hear a rip.

___

Happy valentine's day (I wrote this yesterday i was with my boyfriend today lol. He's american so he thinks valentine's day is a real holiday)

[crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer]

Here I am back at it again with the Boueibu food analyses //bricked

I’ve been staring at the Melon Monster for years, trying to unpack what “the melon was just playing melon” and “melons are tops” meant because it’s definitely interesting wording, but nothing was coming up… until I came across a collection of articles and videos talking about the Yubari King Melon, a hybrid cantaloupe that has been specifically cultivated for its desired traits and is subsequently considered “the best melon” in Japan.

To be considered a top-grade melon, one must be perfectly round and have an exceptionally smooth rind. Upon harvest, part of the stem is left on top to add to its aesthetic appeal. [x]

Hmmmm don’t you look familiar!

As the Melon Monster alludes to, the Japanese fruit industry is an interesting rabbit hole to fall down, but this video offers a pretty good insight into the Yubari melon specifically.

According to this article, the Prince melon was developed in Japan and first sold in 1961, gaining immediate popularity in average households due to its low price. On the opposite end of the melon spectrum, the Yubari melon (developed in 1951) is exclusively grown in Yubari, Hokkaido and is so expensive it is considered a luxury fruit, which is in no small part due to its limited availability each year and sought after sweetness/aroma. Yubari melons are often given as gifts to show appreciation during the summer gift-giving season Ochugen and there are annual auctions where pairs of these melons regularly sell for millions of yen.

Furthermore, according to another article I found, the history of melons in Japan goes all the way back to the Makuwa (oriental melon), which Uriya gets his name from and which allegedly came to Japan during the Yayoi period (3rd century BC to 3rd century) via China. How prestigious! That certainly explains the choice of costume and no wonder the poor Melon Monster remarks that his existence is anachronistic when told by his peers that melon is just another fruit nowadays!

Here he is, trying his best to be a Yubari melon, cherry-picking what he thinks are his best and most interesting traits in an attempt to meet the expectations of others around him as someone with value, and the Battle Lovers immediately curb stomp every single one of his efforts by not only outsmarting him in the most effortless way possible (using the internet to solve his riddles and surviving his traps as though they were a children's obstacle course) but mistaking him for a common melon. The melon (Makuwa) was only playing melon… playing at something he could never hope to be… pretending that anyone could ever see value in him. But he is only an ordinary melon, so why would anyone go the extra mile for that?

[With this in mind, I feel like this monster must have sprung into existence as a result of a conversation about the popularity of melons similar to the origin of the Chikuwabu Monster (many thanks again to @intra-fiducia for the wonderful translations!! <3). XD]

On a side note, I wrote briefly about the paulownia box being a representation of how Uriya is trapped by his own anxieties and self-consciousness in his attempt to meet everyone’s expectations, but I didn’t realize that sometimes the gift of melon is delivered very cutely in one. So there’s an extra layer to that line about no longer needing to stay in one! Melon can be enjoyed in many forms and varieties, like the Battle Lovers said! He doesn’t have to be the best because the people who like melon pan, melon soda, and shaved ice will like him just the same for what he already is.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very nice 1920 hacienda style home in Reading, PA has so many offers, that they had to set a deadline, b/c it's only $277,777. 2bs, 1ba.

I'm sure that it will sell for more b/c there's a bidding war. The living room is spacious and has a wonderful fireplace. The double wide windows go down to the floor to let in lots of light.

French doors open to a spacious dining room with a built-in window seat and shelving under the kitchen service opening. The room is so large that the current owner has a desk in it with room to spare.

The kitchen is very bright. It has the favorite laminate cabinets of landlords in the 70s, though.

Bedroom #1 is a nice room.

The renovated bath is cute and is between the 2 bedrooms.

Bedroom #2 is lovely.

The basement is mostly finished and has a sitting area.

Looks like there was a little flooding on the floor around the drain.

Extra closet.

Nice private porch. Is there a mold issue?

The porch has a custom-made awning.

It has a yard with lots of potential- looks like there's mulch down, ready for planting. 4,356 sq. ft. lot

Wide alley on the side of the house.

There's a one car garage and the front could some curb appeal.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1150-Fairview-Ave-Reading-PA-19610/8939665_zpid/

[sirfrogsworth]

Sorry if heavy things have all I've been talking about lately. My brain is in a doomy place. My disability appeal is due this week and we only got the last of the records a few days ago. I don't even know if they have proof of my ECT because my very busy lawyer takes days to answer emails.

The war scares me. Trump scares me. Homelessness scares me. I'm slowly purging the house of every reminder of my parents and all I keep wishing is that they were still here to tell me everything will be okay. They were so good at managing these huge existential crises. How the hell did they do that? How did they always make sure it would be okay?

In any case, I offer these cute corgis to curb a little bit of the doom.

[blackfemmejeanvaljean]

the hood isn't even an affordable anymore lmao like people be asking how can I afford to live in my walkable rich ass neighborhood on a street lined with mansion and bridal shops but like it's literally the same price as living a few blocks from the projects now a days I'm not even kidding

this is the 9th ward in new orleans

it has limited public transportation, right by the projects, lack of parks and public spaces and most of the businesses within walking distance are cornerstores, check cashing places, hole in the wall restaurants, no grocery stores, coffee shops, art galleries things that make a neighborhood nice and the rent is actually higher than this I set my zillow account to only show me places that a under a thousand that 950 dollars is for a studio crime is also higher in this neighborhood and most notably this is the part of town that still hasn't recovered from hurricane katrina and it's been nearly 20 years

this is the garden district

I don't live in this exact neighborhood but I'm close and this neighborhood is beautiful lots of beautiful old house, all the streets are treeline so many different businesses and cute coffee shops an bars and restaurants, right by the second biggest park in town and plenty of little random parks, lowest crime rate in town I've never felt unsafe walking home at night by myself, the apartments are well maintained (curb appeal wise at least...), abundant public transportation despite the fact most people in these areas can afford cars and katrina flood waters did not touch this part of town

when I was a kid my parents rented a three bedroom house with a yard for like $500 a month in a crap part of town in Cleveland now damn near twice that will barely get you a studio apartment where are poor people supposed to live lmao I'm serious where do they live what if you needed more than one bedroom? what is happening? why are people so confused about record evictions and homeless rates the rent is too high

[laura1633]

if Max (cough WHEN) max gets podium bro deserves getting praised sm after this weekend cause he just started and rb20 said lol no 🫠 #praisekinkbutitsotherpeoplepraisingmax

Max is just so sad and frustrated that the car can’t go over curbs and sucks on street tracks (especially since he was known as the king of the streets) so everyone on the grid try to comfort him. Yes, they were equally as frustrated in 2023 when it was just Max winning but he deserved it and they can’t stay mad at the cute Dutchman. The reporters on the paddock whisper that Max is going to change teams and max becomes frustrated because he wants to stay at red bull, the team he started his whole career and wants to end but other options are looking more appealing.

Oh I agree he definitely does deserves all the praises anon. Actually no matter where he finishes he deserves all the praises for how fucking amazing he has been and continues to be.

I've read fics about orgies but honestly lets just get everyone in a room and have them praise Max obsessively. No sex required, just enough kind words to make him vibrate.

The RB20 might have needed to take a little nap yesterday but lets hope it's re-invigorated today and ready to go 😃

And the part about Red Bull 🥺 I think that might be very accurate to real life actually, what he wants to do and what he ends up having to do might be two different things over the next few years but who knows what the future holds! Things can change so quickly, I trust Max knows what is best <3

But 100% yes to #praisekinkbutitsotherpeoplepraisingmax

[rustedhearts]

hello rolly i hope all is going well and on the up and up. the coffee cowboy cafe sound very cool, i hope they take you!! i am sure they'll be lucky to have you :)! i'm hoping for a lucky break regarding employment as well, i've been applying to places since beginning of sept but no luck yet. i also really like the stars background you have, it reminds me of like a kid's bedroom wallpaper in a whimsical illustrated children's book.

i read keepsakes, and while i don't think i had this blog in 2022, that didn't curb my enjoyment of it (curb your enthusiasm theme plays). this was so sweet and so nice, and very comforting after a bit of a hard day. i am really craving chicken noodle soup now, as well as someone to fill the person shaped loneliness that's sitting beside me right now. but the steve being h0rny in candlelight line made me laugh a lot.

your descriptions are always so good at capturing the mood, but the lines where steve looks at reader's ring are infused with something so gooey and melty. actually, anow that i'm writing this, a lot of steve's pov in this blurb is veryyyyy heart melty and truly so much marsh and so much mellow. "You do a little squirm and smile that makes Steve chuckle. He hunches over his lap to slurp the broth and you wrinkle up your nose." like this is soooo cute!!! i want to do this with someone!! also i don't think i've told you this before but ur also so genuinely funny! the pretty woman joke after this made me laugh hard. this literally sounds like heaven right now, both the massage and the devotion of looking at someone and seeing love there "Massages your scalp until your eyes flutter. The flames of the fire rest in dancing orange shimmers on your face."

i also really loved the description of the polaroid. the description of the outdated rosebud wallpaper really did me in, and idk why exactly but idk, just the love he remembers her childhood bedroom with was very sweet and all the little things about the photo, like the memory of his bruise and how he was flexing for her, in the privacy of her bedroom and not for a crowd just had the sort of intimacy of sharing a memory that i really loved. and her caption was just the most perfect delectable cherry on top of the whole thing.

i also reallyyyyyy love how tactile boxer steve is. this part i loved too "He moves one hand from your waist to your chin and tips it away to make room for his head on the other side of your throat". i like it for a lot of reasons certainly but i just really like the feeling or passion behind it i guess, it might come from reading so much of boxer steve, but it just feels so like, what his appeal is?? like "and he follows suit only to lay you on your back with his hand supporting the back of your head" that's why i like him?? i feel bad for not being able to word this better, but i just love the feeling of being taken care of or guided when something's happening and the amount of emotion behind it. i guess it's why his anger can b frightening, since for a long time it used to be equally passionate and physical, but in the right moments it's veryyyyy special !!

apologies for the length of this one, this was just something really comforting and warm during a cold period of my life. love ur writing and love u too always <333.

ughhhhh my friend, you always know how to make me smile ⭐️⭐️

to begin, i know how difficult and disheartening job searching can be. i really hope you don’t have to search as long as i’ve been, because i truly would not wish this upon anyone lol.

the stars in my background are also my home screen on my phone rn! i loved them so much, i agree that it has this sort of childish comfort to it. and stars (especially gold stars) are sort of my thing (move over rachel berry)!

thank you for appreciating my humor, not enough people do 😔 i’m absolutely hilarious

and yes! part of boxer!steve’s appeal is his tactile love language. ever the brute, he often lets his hands do the speaking for him—but there’s a softness to that when it comes to libby. often instead of expressing how he feels verbally, he’ll let her know through his touches. it’s his way of feeling close to her, and how much closer can you get than physically feeling someone?

but the guiding touches also speak to how well they know each other!

i’m wishing you luck in your job search, as well, and know that i understand and empathize with the struggle! ⭐️ thank you for always being so kind and supportive, and reminding me why i should keep writing (in any way)!

xoxoxoxoxo

[jackinalex]

I tripped off a curb and fell in a parking lot today and I'm blaming Alex for that. Why? It's not a joke or a bit, legit in the moment I tripped I was thinking about him (positively) and my focus was lost just enough to trip and fall on my hands and knees and scrape my right knee and hand. You know that trope of tripping or crashing into something as you're distracted by a cute person? Yeah, that was me today but in my own head. I'm fine it was just, very funny in hindsight.

I'm glad you're okay! I can't blame you; Alex is so hot in his weird little way and so captivating. I have thought about that man every single day since at least 2015 (namely in the sense that I have felt an urge to write about him like a madwoman since then). I'm glad you're okay! Alex needs to chill out with his sex appeal lmao.

[novankenn]

J/C - the Idols of Beacon

--==(Table of Contents) ==--

(Chapter Six - Through the gates of HELL)

It was one day until Monday. One day to suffer through before Carla was sure that she would be free of the Wraith of Vengeful Retribution that had been visiting her and Joan for the last two days. Coco Adel was once again in their dorm, this time giving the pair a crash course on make-up and basic proper skincare.

Joan was in a slightly better place, if only because Carla was certain at any moment Coco would realize that Carla was in fact Cardin and then would proceed to curb stomp her into oblivion. However she was confused by Joan's reactions to Coco. Carla knew CFVY, in particular Coco and Velvet had no issues with Jaune, aka Joan.

Joan was suffering, but not in the sense that Carla was. No Joan was petrified by Coco's blatant displays of attraction. A touch here, a compliment there. Coco taking extra time to explain things, and demonstrate techniques on Joan. But the icing on the cake was the soft whispers that Coco would utter whenever she was close to Joan's ears. Joan was sure she was going to pass out just from the amount of blood being pumped into her cheeks forming a deeper and deeper blush on her pale skin.

"By the brothers... you look so sweet," Coco whispered as she used Joan to demonstrate to the pair how to apply mascara. "I could just EAT you up this very second."

Coco was enjoying her teasing of Joan, and would do it to Carla, but she could tell from Carla's body language that the young woman was terrified of her. Which she thought was rather strange. But Joan, oh sweet, innocent, delectable Joan. The things that her sublime form did to Coco was making it very hard for the Fashionista to keep from dragging the blonde into her room and teaching her the pleasures of the intimate touch of a woman.

"Are... are we done?" Joan stammered, desperately wishing she could bail and lock herself in her room.

"Almost." Coco replied as she leaned back to critique her masterpieces. "Yep. You two are sex appeal personified. I am so good."

"Okay! Th...thanks... I guess you can... can go?" Carla stammered out hoping to get the specter of justified wrath out of the dorm.

"NoPe." Coco replied, instantly making Carla's heart fall into her stomach, while Joan's jumped into her throat. "Go wash it off, and then come back and do it yourself while I watch."

"But... but..."

"None of that. I can't be coming here everyday to do your make-up." Coco cut of Joan, "I don't understand how you two... as cute as you are have NEVER used make-up. Like where did you grow up? A cave?"

"That... that... was sort of mean." Joan responded, her face involuntarily unleashing an epic pout that made Coco swoon.

"I... I... sorry." Coco admitted, as she fought back the impulse to crush her lips against Joan's.

With Coco's attention focused on Joan, Carla took her chance. Standing up from her chair, before her dressing table Carla made the motion to head for the bathroom, before spinning on her heels and bolting for her bedroom.

"CARLA what the HELL! Get back here!" Coco shouted as Carla crossed the living room. "What has gotten into you girl?"

Carla was in her room with the door locked before Coco was bale to do anything. Dropping to her behind she leaned her back against the door, hoping her slender frame could help prevent Coco from breaching.

"Joan, go clean up... while I deal with Carla."

"You're not going to..." Joan hesitated.

"Joan?"

"Hurt her? Please don't!" Joan pleaded.

"What the hell? You are acting like Carla has done something for me to be angry about. What the hell?" Coco was rather shocked at Joan's statement. "I'm not going to to do anything aside from get her out of her room, and back to her lessons."

Joan just nodded an rose from her own dressing table and made her way to the bathroom, while Coco walked over and tried the door-knob to Carla's room.

"Carla, unlock this door, and come out." Coco called out. "We don't have time for this. Now come on, why are you acting so scared of me?"

Coco waited until Joan had returned from the bathroom, and had taken her seat before her dressing table.

"Carla... DO NOT make me call Professor Goodwitch." Coco sighed when she heard the lock click, and fixed a disappointed look upon her face as the door inched open. "Enough of this. I'm not going to do anything to you. I really don't understand where you and Joan got this idea from."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine. Go clean up. We're almost out of time." Coco instructed as she stepped out of Carla's way.

So for the next forty-five minutes Joan and Carla practiced, under Coco's careful observation. Ever so slowly the actions became smoother and their technique more and more fluid. A knock on the door had the trio turn towards the door.

"Right on time." Coco stated as she stepped back from her students. "Go wash up and then get changed into your workout clothes."

"Why?" Joan asked as Carla was the first to reach the bathroom.

"Your personal trainer is here."

"Personal trainer?" Carla questioned as she exited the bathroom after amazingly clearing off her make-up in record time. "Why do we have a personal trainer?"

"General fitness and conditioning? I don't know the specifics, just that she would be here today."

Joan entered the bathroom to take off her own make-up, as Carla vanished into her room. A second series of knocks had Coco moving to the door, as Joan finished up and entered her own bedroom.

"Oh!" Coco exclaimed as she opened the door. "This is a surprise! They are going to be stoked that it's you."

"Please, this is going to be hard enough. What if their fans?" Pyrrha asked as she stepped into the dorm.

"You got this girl. Just put your foot down..."

"PYRRHA!" screeched Joan at the sight of her former partner standing in the entrance way in basic work-out gear.

"NIKOS!" Carla screamed in abject terror at the sight of the student that had demolished her and her former team... solo.

"Um... HI? It's a pleasure to..." the slamming of a pair of doors cut off Pyrrha's introduction.

"Don;t ask me. " Coco replied to Pyrrha's unasked question. "They are really high-strung, and prone to stuff like this. Don't take it personally."

"It's a little hard to not take that personally... I've never had that type of reaction before."

"You want my help, to get the out?"

"Please?"

[kirlicues]

Gyms for Sims | CC-Free Sims 2 Community Lots | Create-a-Town

These two different community gym lots are built and decorated in a similar style but their exteriors are painted to look different. 

Puns and cute plays on words are a notorious part of the Sims games, and because I have a few playfulness points, I’ve tried to have these lots follow in that legacy with their names.

First up is the small “Gym-in-a-Box”, named for not only its more boxy shape, but also the shape of the lot (2x2).

This little gym is 3 stories tall and provides your sims with lots of options for exercising, or soothing their over-worked muscles.

You will need to download the Maxis Lost and Found Fixed CAS Window to get it to look exactly like the pictures. The window is not included in this download. Since this is an object that came with the game, but was hidden, I don’t really consider it CC, however, if you do please feel free to replace the 3rd story windows with the regular High-Tech Loft Window that is visible on the front of the building (also on the 3rd story) above the front doors.

This lot comes lightly furnished and would most likely benefit from some added décor should you desire to do that. It should be functional without any extra fussing though.

Alright, let’s see what you’re getting with this small but serious gym:

1st Floor From top-left: Hot-Tub, Vending machines, bathrooms, entry area (with “healthy” meal options [regular grocery freezers]), main workout space, side-entry.

2nd Floor From top-left: weight room, vending machines, bathrooms, the rest of the floor is open to first story.

3rd Floor From top-left: ballet studio, bathroom, sports massage studio (could also be a physical therapy office).

CC-Free, but all EPs and SPs are required.

Don’t forget to grab the Maxis/EA “Lost and Found” CAS Window Fixed if you do not already have them in your game.

I’ve run this lot through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run it through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Pack Clean installer to install lot files.

The link for this lot will be at the bottom of the post. Keep scrolling. 😊

Next up, it’s The Slim Gym, so named because of the lot shape (5x2) it is built on.

This lot is fairly sizable so if your computer is good enough you should be able to have your sims enjoy exercising with a plethora of not-so-fresh-smelling patrons. What could be more fun? 😂

You will need to have the Maxis Lost and Found Fixed CAS Window  installed to get it to look exactly like the pictures. That window is not included in this download. Since this is an object that came with the game, but was hidden, I don’t really consider it CC, however, if you do, please feel free to replace the 3rd story windows in the black corrugated siding section with the regular High-Tech Loft Window.

I realized after packaging this lot that I also have the Freetime pre-order bonus poster hung in the ballet studio. It is included, but you do not have to install it if you use the Sims2Pack Clean installer. This is an original Maxis/EA object however, so you probably already have it in your game.

Let’s have a look at those spacious floorplans, shall we?

1st Floor From left: pool, shower and locker rooms, hot-tub, weight room, locker rooms and showers, vending machines, main floor bathrooms, treadmills, staff offices, or offices for personal trainers/nutritionists, and the entry area (with “healthy” meal options [regular grocery freezers]).

2nd Floor From left: open to floor below, upstairs sitting area above pool, small back patio area, ballet studio, sports massage/physical therapy office, bathrooms, vending machines and eating area, the rest is open to the floor below.

Since there is a bit more space in this building, I’ve taken a couple of pictures of how some of the rooms look. You’ll notice that the interior of this building is very similar to the first gym. Feel free to redecorate it if you like. 

Weight room:

Treadmills:

Pool:

Now I need to design a “Just-Right Gym”. Not too big, not too small… 🤣

Gym-in-a-Box: MF | SFS

The Slim Gym: MF | SFS

Like the first gym, this lot is CC-Free, but all EPs and SPs are required.

Don’t forget to grab the Maxis/EA “Lost and Found” CAS Window Fixed if you do not already have them in your game.

I’ve run this lot through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run it through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Pack Clean installer to install lot files.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a lot better. It helped a lot that it was a lot cooler out. My allergies are bothering me a bit tonight but for the majority of today I felt the best I have this week.

I wish I had gotten more sleep. But what else is new. When I got up I was not thrilled. But I got washed and dressed and was frustrated that my hair didn't look as nice as when I washed it last night. Annoying. But I tried my new blush and I liked that. I didn't feel cute but I was trying to fake it best I could.

James gave me hugs and I left for camp. Getting out of the parking space was a little annoying but it was fine. I got myself to camp and it wasn't a bad drive. Though someone was driving way to close to me on the road outside of camp and I know they work at camp too so it was very annoying to me.

I would actually get to just chill for a bit this morning. I didn't have to set up a ton. I would eat my breakfast and set up some bears. I wrote a to do list for my tipi kids who needed service hours. And I am really glad that I did that. Took a lot of stress off of me later when they asked for tasks.

My day was honestly pretty easy. Silver City girls came first and they were lovely. I am much quicker at finishing their bears now so no one needed to leave anything behind to be done. One of the ropes staff took their break with Silver City because they are friends with the counselor and both of them would make bears and they were so cute. It was a lot of fun.

Everyone seems to be living their bears though. And it's just really gratifying after all the work cutting them. Feels really good.

At 1030 my tipis kids came and would work on their things. Cleaning and such. I appreciated the help but I also appreciated that they didn't need me a ton besides a few clarifying questions. I got to hang in my hammock and just chill and that was perfect.

At 1130 I went to lunch but it was very dry Mac and cheese and sweet potato fries and they were so bad I gagged. They were probably perfectly fine but I just had sweet potatoes. I did not stay at lunch long. SarahMarie tried to get me to hang out but it is entirely to hot up there and I wanted to go lay in the AC.

And that's what I did. Laying in the cabin was great. I felt a lot nicer after that. And the alert few hours of the day would be really pleasant.

Both day camps were great. Super helpful counselors and the kids were great. A lot of kids saying they were nervous but they all did so good and I was really proud of them.

Stockade was my last group and this was a chill group for sure. I learned a few of them lived in interesting places. One in Vietnam! Never would have guessed, little while boy with long hair wearing overalls. Loved that we matched today. One of the other boys kept saying I was his best friend and that he would come and be my assistant but I really don't want assistance. Even though the tipis girls are great and helpful they are an exception not a rule. So often they don't help enough and it's just me asking and them only half doing jobs and it makes me have more work to clean up. Rough. But I know that's a me thing.

We would talk news for a bit because some of them did the bridge weekend and haven't seen the Internet in a week and a half. So I read news headlines to them. It was fun.

I was happy to go home though. Remi would come back for the girls and after a brief photoshoot wearing my bear costume, I was off.

The drive home was tough because I was hungry. But it was fine. No traffic and I was home quick.

When I got back I spent a few minutes sweeping the side walk. It's not perfect but I want to make our little tree square look nicer. Which will make the block look nicer. That's one of my plans this fall. Just to try and make the outside/curb appeal better.

I went inside to start putting things away and starting my projects for the night when it started storming. An hour earlier then expected. And it was heavy. I opened the backdoor to watch and Sweetp wanted to go out but was confused by the rain. He got a little wet insisting on going out. But it didn't last long.

James would come home during the day part but they still got wet from the brief rain. They brought me my requested food stuffs. Burrata, sour dough, and tomato soup. And they would jump right into projects with me.

I wanted to move the console table up to the bedroom and was working on taking off all the books and disassembling. James would work on disassembling the wardrobe. And it was hard work. Especially when we had trouble figuring out how to remove the locking bolts that Ikea uses. But I was able to fix it and felt very smart.

James would focus on the wardrobe for a while. And once or was dissembled they would make dinner. Grilled cheese on sourdough, spicy tomato soup, burrata as garnish. It was great. Exactly what I wanted. We sat together in the kitchen and talked about paint colors for the small room. And when they would put the wardrobe back together.

I would jump back into things. James went to talk to friends about DND and I worked on moving things around in the studio. Now that I'm down two pieces of furniture I needed a new temporary plan while I figure out new shelves. And I'm pretty pleased with what I did. It's a for now situation but I am happy and not as overwhelmed.

James would end up putting the wardrobe back together tonight and I'm super happy with it in the little room. It fits perfectly and I think even though the guest bed still feels large it is now balanced by the wardrobe and the space makes more sense. I am pretty pleased overall.

I was laying in bed watching the rain and the changing colors of the clouds. It was calm. It was nice. And when the sun went down I would sit with sweetp on the steps for a while just hanging out. It was a good night.

I took a little bath. I had taken a shower right when I got home but a cool bath felt like a good way to wind down for the night. And I do feel a lot better after it.

James is mostly asleep now. And I am sitting in the floor sipping water. I'm going to do the rest of my face lotions and join them. For hopefully an easy sleep.

Tomorrow should be a nice day. Cooler. I promised Callie I would sleep over so I am sticking to that. Since I don't feel as bad I think it's okay. And I am just hoping for another really nice day. I hope you all have a good day too. Sleep well everyone. Until next time!

[f0point5]

This is a very me thing probably and I'm not saying other drivers aren't like that (because some definitely are) but Lando not knowing things kinda annoys me about him as well. And you can never know everything and that's not even necessary but I feel like you could at least know where approximately in the world you are racing.

Also he often gives the impression that he doesn't know anything about this sport's history and doesn't care about it at all, which again in it self isn't the problem, but more so the fact that he acts like knowing these things makes you a nerd without hobbies. I just don't enjoy him making me and others feel awkward about my interests (which I'm not actually bothered by even though I know this makes it sound like I am 😂😂, it's just a point that influences me not being his biggest fan)

You could know, if you were interested. He clearly isn’t.

I get what you mean because the way I grew up, not knowing things was considered to be really embarrassing. It was never funny or cute to not know at least something about most things. I don’t see general knowledge as an interest, more just a prerequisite to being a functional human. It took me a long time to get my head around that some people think knowing things is like an actual hobby, or a thing that takes effort, and it’s just not something they care about. Which is fair enough, even if I don’t fully understand it.

Idk when Lando has said that knowing things makes you a nerd but yeah it’s clear that general information is not something that appeals to him. I think a lot of sportspeople are like that, though. Their mental bandwidth is taken up by their sport and keeping themselves together and focused, I think they don’t always like to expend it elsewhere. And also, how you feel about education (whether formal or informal) is often dictated by how it’s valued in your household. Sportspeople, especially in sports where the careers begin so young and get so time consuming very early, aren’t often the most educated people, and all of that gets pushed to the side, it’s not a big part of their life, so understandably they don’t see it as particularly valuable to them personally. I think it curbs their curiosity a little bit. I’m not saying all of them, but I think if you did a poll of the grid you would find a lot of them have pretty large general gaps and not too much interest in filling them.

But I have to say, I don’t think Lando comes across as being very intelligent (in the traditional sense) and that normally correlates to your level of curiosity.

Also, this reminds me of that time Lando and Helmut were talking and Helmut asked him something about how the car works and Lando was like, no clue, and Helmut was like “Max would know”. You’ll never tell me that’s not the moment Lando knew he’d never go near Red Bull 😂

[nonuggetshere]

I read a fic once, and now I can’t remember it damnit, but where teen!Hollow had a bit of an schoolgirl crush on one of the knights that were training them. Because said knight was kind and teaching them both combat and courtly manners. I wanna say it was Isma???

But the point still stands, Hollow who can’t communicate or even being alive still having internal thoughts and opinions on the knights who are mentoring them. Wanting to spend more time with them even if they don’t realize it/let themselves. Admiring one or all of them greatly and not realizing it’s gearing into having a crush or infatuation territory because they don’t have the words for it. Especially if they’re reared with “you’re being trained by the best of the best” of course they’re gonna admire them.

I also like a post canon concept where Ogrim and Hollow can just sit and bond. Sit and reminisce a little bit.

OUGH, YES, I LOVE THIS CONCEPT. Teacher crushes can be cute if done right tbh. I think I read something similar tbh!

Teen Hollow having an unachievable crush typical of a kid is just so appealing to me. No matter how hard they try they can't stop themself from feeling, even if they try to curb stomp that feeling and rationalise it as only admiration for their teacher(s) (which technically they shouldn't be capable of either but anything to not come to terms with their own...aliveness I suppose?)

And you just KNOW if baby Hornet found out she would hold it over their head for ages

This actually gave me a bunch of cute ideas that I might sketch, thank ya!