#i usually call her the nanny cat

[huramuna]

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other. 

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard. 

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days. 

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

 You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design. 

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased. 

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red. 

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly. 

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits. 

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly. 

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. “C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?” 

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.” 

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?” 

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets. 

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here. 

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.” 

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.” 

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?” 

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–” 

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?” 

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet! 

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets. 

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions. 

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’ 

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup. 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.” 

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–” 

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.” 

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…” 

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house. 

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red. 

— 

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot. 

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you. 

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.” 

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,” 

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction. 

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little— 

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing? 

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you. 

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you? 

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him? 

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working. 

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Oh. You’re still here.” 

“Yes?” 

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.” 

“The… what?” 

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.” 

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?” 

“Why not?” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?” 

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?” 

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you. 

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins. 

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?” 

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?” 

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.” 

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?” 

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.” 

“... what.” 

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven��t noticed?” 

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours. 

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.” 

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves. 

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.” 

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.” 

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?” 

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.” 

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?” 

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh. 

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone. 

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil. 

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat. 

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into. 

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded. 

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off. 

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt. 

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.” 

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was. 

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?” 

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.” 

“How about just in my room? Please?” 

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

[episims]

Split Character Files

I was let known that my personality-based witch idles mod causes new sims to have split character files.

It made me look into the issue. Since the information about it is spread across various forum threads and lacked some details too, I decided to gather what I've found in this post.

What does a 'split character file' mean?

Each sim has its own character file in Documents directory. For example, Neighborhoods \ E001 \ Characters \ E001_User00024.package is Samantha Cordial.

When a character file is split, in addition to the usual E001_User00024.package there's also a file named E001_User00024.1.package. It would still be Samantha Cordial, but her data would be stored in two files instead of just one.

What kind of mods cause it?

Mods that edit character templates. That means: TemplatePerson (group 0x7FEDFE16), TemplateCat (0x7F99E646), TemplateDog (0x7F3C1917), and TemplateSmallDog (0x7F593B25). In addition, NPCs have their own character templates too.

These templates seem to get copied whenever a new sim or a pet is created. If you have a mod that includes a part of them, it appears the game creates a second character file and then copies any related BHAVs from the mod into it.

Do split character files cause problems?

In SimPe's neighborhood browser, a split character file might not be displayed properly and it's possible that you won't be able to edit the sim's stats with SimPe if that happens.

The game itself seems to be able to parse the sim together from two character files in most cases. However, it's plausible that it causes the empty/wiped face glitch to appear. As I tested the issue, I was able to replicate this myself multiple times with split character files and others have seen this happening in their games, too.

There are also people in related threads who say they have split character files and haven't noticed it causing problems.

Why do mods edit these templates, then?

I don't think it's been common knowledge what exactly causes the issue. And to be fair, creating new sims and then inspecting their character files isn't probably a part of many modder's testing routines. It sure hasn't been a part of mine.

The unpleasant fact is that if we want to make some things happen through mods, editing the code related to templates might be necessary. Ideally, Maxis would've only used them to create new sims and pets, but that's not the case. Their code gets called in various other situations – when witches idle, for example.

Now that we know which groups are involved, I hope modders can at least alert players when we share mods that cause this issue.

How can I know if the mods I use cause split character files?

It's not that common for mods to edit the templates, so suspecting all mods isn't necessary. Here are some mods that do edit them:

My Personality-based Witch Idles (includes code from TemplatePerson, the NPC witch template, and the NPC servo template) the latest mod update doesn't cause split character files anymore

Object Freedom 1.02 by @fwaysims (TemplateCat, TemplateDog, TemplateSmallDog)

lobonanny by Pescado (the nanny NPC template)

Spectral Cat Variety by @hexagonal-bipyramid (the spectral cat NPC template)

AntiGoodWitchIdleAnims by @paradoxcase (the link is broken and kestrellyn hasn't reuploaded this one to MTS, but assumingly involves the same templates as my witch idle mod)

Landlord Gardens Only Communal Areas by simler90 (the landlord NPC template)

Business Mod by simler90 (the chef NPC template, the reporter NPC template)

Gypsy Matchmaker Fix by simler90 (the matchmaker NPC template)

Buy Build Enabler for BV by cathair2005 (the social worker NPC template)

More points for woohoo with professors by Marhis (the professor NPC template)

No Relationship with Servers by Neder (the server NPC template)

Baby Toddler Mod by simler90 (the nanny NPC template)

There are probably more but in most cases, only specific NPCs are affected. Quite many people have reported having split NPCs in their games without noticing any issues with them.

Using these mods doesn't affect existing character files, but it will affect any new ones. You can prevent the split from happening by temporarily removing these mods from your game before creating new sims or pets, but you should keep in mind that this also includes spawning townies and NPCs (when their template is involved, that is) as well as born-in-game babies.

Can we stop the character files from splitting altogether?

If we can, it's sadly beyond my skillset as it appears to be hard-coded. I'm interested in testing if split character files can be safely merged back into one but I don't know about that either, yet.

I hope this clarifies the issue for someone! If I missed some crucial info, please comment.

[webdollzz]

a/n: me n my best baby @earth222abi were talking about this on tiktok and I js had to form a post 🧘🏻‍♀️

warnings: none, headcanons rly

this man can and will come home with random strays at any given moment. dogs, cats, you name it, hes brought it back to his canal boat. including a "hamster" (it was a fucking mouse)

cat distribution system LOVES him. "don' mind these, they jus' a couple o' squatters" and its 4 cats sleeping on his floor, table, bed and worktop living their best lives. if he doesn't see a "regular" as he calls them, on a boring patrol night he'll search for them in usual places because he's so worried.

I think he permanently adopted a stray blue staffy & he just annoys TF outta that poor dawg cuz he loves it. (like this)

can, will & does send you those tiktoks he gets on his fyp with 2 likes of some old tosser on their 2014 android and says "litch me". also sends those tiktoks where its like "you belong to me😈😈" and he fully is just an absolute dickhead with annoying you. (abi damn near killed me for sending those tiktoks)

BUT if you do it back n call this man kitten or sum fucking shit he WILL stare at you sooooo fed up. "only funny when I do it." alr double standards.

carves your initials into his guitar.

fully steals feminine hygiene products for you if you're afab, binders & chest tape if ur ftm, what u want, this man gets. fuck big businesses and that.

loves when you two wander around town at xmas time when theres all those little stalls up.

he pokes ur waist. everytime he sees an opportunity, done. snorts to himself when you yelp.

....he loves a good bubble bath I'm sorry. being spiderman means having achey muscles all the live long day so if you run him a nice bubble bath this man will love you for the rest of his damn life. (even though he would either way.)

on that subject, he too gangly for a shower, the shower doesn't go high enough so he either hunches or uses his webs to put it higher (and that pisses u off if ur shorter) and his knobbly ahh knees poke out the bath sometimes but he too busy in his world to gaf. (you're sat on the toilet watching him and just giggling ur ass off)

he loves sewing. his "nanny" definitely taught him when he was just a lil geezer which is how he has all his patches and badges on his clothes, he put them on himself! only sews in the way his grandmother showed him to honour her, and refuses point blank to do it any other way, even if they're easier/sturdier. trust in great mrs brown.

loves picking you literal weeds out the ground with some daisies and presenting them like they're a 10/10 bouquet with a FAT lopsided grin on his face.

if you yawn infront of him I feel like sometimes he'll just blow air into your mouth briefly before carrying on with his business. idk. he's just got such annoying older brother energy and I feel like that's js what he'd do.

thanks for coming to my ted talk!

© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game It starts -> here

Since River Bagley leads from Goldshire to Bacalao Bay - and Yang Mal and the Princess already spent two days on the rocky roads - she released her trusty steed and decided to swim to the next stage of her odyssey. She needs to meet the Sculptor here. The key to find her King and to the Demon who took Jack's heart. She's so close!

First, she went to the market to buy some appropriate clothes for a place like this. The Vendor in the food stall stopped in his motion to gawk at the beautiful Princess ^^'

Vendor/Bartender Gytha made a few suggestions and the Princess picked something more practical. Now these were clothes for travelling! The Princess did not want to loose any more time and asked Gytha rightaway about the Sculptor.

Gytha: "You must be thirsty and tired, let's go over to the pub and talk there."

Princess Jihovere: "This place is beautiful. Though, I expected more hustle in a bustling harbor..."

Gytha: "I fear you missed them. Our Vicegerent and his lover, the Sculptor, left with a strange man with glowing eyes. They took the crew of the Sea Urchin with them on the Vicegerent's ship just a few hours ago. They brought a big and a small crate too." Princess Jihovere: "Oh no. Do you happen to know where they went?" Gytha: "I fear I don't. They were in a hurry and made a big secret out of it."

Oh no... If she could find out where they went, she could solve all their ingame problems all at once. The demon knows where Jack's heart is (the Princess even assumes it's in the small box Gytha mentioned). And since the bat (aka her King) lead her to the Sculptor's shop in Goldshire, he must know something about the whereabouts of her king.

It was late when the Princess discouragedly left 'The Salty Mermaid'. But after a few steps, she saw the bat again!

She jerked when her phone got off. The Queen sent her a message. The Statue of the rightful Heir got stolen from the Castle's grounds! Oh no! The only thing left with her King's likeness! (Besides the loop she stitched and the photos she took of the statue before she left ö.ö)

She got another message from the Queen to reassure her: 'Don't worry, I called... uhm - someone over to protect me...' The Princess knew who that might be and that Equerry/Jeweller Lunvik would not be delighted to be called a 'someone'...

She has to worry about that later. Now she has to hurry to follow the bat - over to the Vicegerent's fortress!? ö.Ö' Princess Jihovere: "You don't want me to break in, don't you?" It did... And since Ji Ho spent the majority of his life in the Slums of Sulani, he had no problems to lock pick the back door... Luckily no one except Gytha seems to be here. And she's busy at her pub.

Once inside, the Princess made her way up through the darkness to the Vicegerent's office. And there, on his desk, she found his notes and a map! Lady Mimsy on the painting looked reproachful over at the Princess/Picklock.

Suddenly the Princess/Picklock heard steps coming nearer and a rumbling voice said: "What are you doing here?" Oh no. NPC Jeb. Who does not know the Princess (he's just not the kind of guy who follows the Royal Gossip on Social Bunny...). And he couldn't even guess who she was when she's dressed like ... a picklock. That she was... Now always righteous Jeb would blow the whistle and everyone and their peg leg would soon know what she'd done. The Queen would be so disappointed. She ruined the reputation of the already tarnished Court even more than the King who had to flee because he was a bastard...

Ji Ho decided to log out. He also ruined their investigations and their therapy... omg

Meanwhile, in the pub, Gytha hung one of the photos she took of the Princess and Greebo, the most evil cat in the world, onto the photo wall. Usually she's not the kind to fuss over Royals, but when Greebo likes her, she must be good people :3 TMI: Gytha is inspired by Gytha 'Nanny' Ogg, my favourite character in the Discworld series. She treats Magrat, the junior whitch to her, no ounce better after she married King Verence and became Queen ^^'

'Farewell to your bricks and mortar, farewell to your dirty lies Farewell to your gangers and gang planks, to hell with your overtime For the good ship Ragamuffin is lying at the quay To take oul Pat with a shovel on his back To the shores of Botany Bay.

I′m on my way down to the quay where the ship at anchor lays To command a gang of navvys that they told me to engage. I thought I'd drop in for a drink before I went away For to take a trip on an emigrant ship to the shores of Botany Bay'

Shores of Botany Bay - The Irish Rovers

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: firefighter!Curtis Everettxblack!nanny!reader

Summary🪄: You witness Curtis’ jealous side for the first time (Dipped in Guilt addition)

⚠️: age gap (reader is in late twenties, Curtis is in late 30s to early 40s), sprinkle of possessiveness, insinuation to happy adult fun times, pretty much all fluff

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of photos used as they were all found on Pinterest*

“Looks like Jensen went all out with this huh?,” Curtis speaks. His son happily sitting in his thick, tattooed arms as you both walk up the concrete walkway

A decorated archway hangs overhead the entire short walk to the front door made to look like a cave full of spiders in their elaborate web. Finn couldn’t be less impressed though, deciding the grey mouse ears on his head - removing them for the fourth time now - were more intriguing than what was around him

“I like it,” you smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from Jakey.”

“Of course you’d say that,” he thought. Ever the kind, supportive one, it’s like you were Jensen’s biggest fan

You’d always actively listen when he was going on about one of his nerdy interests. Nodding along and giving your input every now and then about some character or theory you had

You were like that with everyone at the station really. Listening with awe to Ari’s stories of traveling in foreign countries and truly interested in the latest book Cap was reading

You even had a little book club of sorts, which had a small smile creeping along his lips when he’d overhear you on the phone excitedly discussing a part you couldn’t get over

Although Curtis did feel a way about you being on the phone with his station captain so late

And now that he thought about it, why the hell were you calling Jensen “Jakey”?

It didn’t take long for the door to swing open after ringing the melodic bell. Jake smiling on the other side in some outfit that looked like a blue ninja and matching mask as music and giggles could be heard from deeper in the house.

“Hey, come in! Glad you guys could make it!”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Curtis replies stepping in the highly decorated home. There were orange and black streamers along the walls and ceiling along with fake cobwebs and bats. Paper skeletons were along the walls in various goofy poses while a couple larger, plastic ones sat on some of the tables in addition to a mini fake caldron and Halloween themed confetti

Overall, it reminded Curtis of a less cluttered version of a Halloween store the longer you walked through

Clearly the kids loved it how they ran around ogling and enjoying themselves in their costumes

“Very nice Sub Zero!,” you spoke. “Is that the one you found on the site you told me?”

“Yea! And thank you for being the only person here to appreciate an iconic character,” he emphasizes specifically towards a group of kids - including his niece in her ghostface costume - walking past

“Whatever bluey.”

Jensen just shakes his head. “That’s the problem with this generation, no respect. Also very adorable cat and mouse costume you two.”

Tickling under Finn’s chin, the one year old giggles in his grey onesie before reaching for Jake’s glasses - as he usually did whenever they’d see each other.

“And let me guess, Curtis is a…grumpy old trucker?”

Although fitting from the black flannel over his arms, dark jeans that covered the laces of his boots, and ash grey beanie, Curtis just glared in his typical sour puss fashion cutting Jensen’s chuckles short. His once joking mood replaced with a slight look of fear as he nervously cleared his throat.

“S-Sorry, just jokes I swear.”

“Hey, more big people!”

Hearing that familiar deep, soothing drawl, you instantly turn around to find Ari with a beer in hand and in his usual jeans and simple white tee waving from the kitchen.

“So we got adults in the kitchen/dining room, and kids mostly in the living room. Food is in both, but let me know if you guys need anything,” Jensen quickly explains before jogging off at his sister’s call.

“Aww how cute, cat and mouse,” Ari smiles giving you one of his famous bear hugs before gently tickling Finn in his side. “And what about you Curtis?”

“A tired, responsible adult.” Ari chuckles at his friend - expecting nothing less than that response - as you playfully roll your eyes taking a babbling Finn from his arms.

“Well on that note, I’ll leave you adults to it. Cmon baby boy, we’ll have fun for the both of em.”

Curtis’ eyes naturally follow as you stride into the living room while cooing at his son. Ari’s daughter, Maya, excitedly squeals your name once you step foot on the large rug protecting the dark hardwood below. Having babysat her a few times now, she already loved you as if you were her best friend. She also loved Finn, saying how he was the cutest baby she’d ever seen.

“He’s like a babydoll!,” she whispered in awe while holding him that first time. Since then, you, Curtis, and Ari suspected that Maya might look at Finn as her own real life babydoll watching as she took care of him while he played on his mat and would occasionally try to rock him. She even tried to feed him his bottle, but that usually didn’t go well since Finn liked to hold his own.

Seeing you interact with the kids - complimenting their costumes and goofily dancing right beside them - a fraction of a smile tilts the corner of Curtis’ mouth replacing his usual stoic gaze.

There’s also a hint of something waking inside of him every time you hold his son or help him toddle about the room being careful that he doesn’t fall or hurt himself

It’s almost primal or possessive as he feels a low twitch and a warmth bloom along his skin

And he knows it’s bound to get him in trouble

“Stare any harder, and I’m gonna start getting jealous,” Ari smirks handing Curtis a chilled beer from the fridge behind him. Clearly caught, he can only shake his head as the two lightly clink their dark bottles together before taking respective sips.

“So I take it everything’s going well?”

“Yea, she loves Finn and he loves her back. Sometimes I think he might like her more than me.”

“Understandable. I mean she’s prettier, so kind, an amazing cook, funny, gorgeous-,”

“Are you done?,” Curtis glowered lowering the beer bottle from his lips. “Want me to call her back in here so you can find more ways to compliment her?”

He knew Curtis liked you, but he didn’t realize his friend was this deeply smitten. “Relax cowboy, no one’s trying to take your girl.”

Although Ari had to admit, if they weren’t friends he’d be doing any and everything to make you his.

“Whoa, Curtis has a girl?!,” Jake pauses as soon as he steps into the kitchen. A dopey grin on his face much to Curtis’ dismay.

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh he does,” Ari adds only making him more annoyed.

“I’m happy for you man! Finally getting back out there and opening yourself up for love.” Curtis instantly shrugs Jake’s arm from around his shoulder, but the giddy dork only puts it back making Curtis glare at his frosted tipped station mate. “You should’ve invited her.”

“He did. You’ve seen her a few times,” Ari chuckles with a wink before taking another swig from his nearly empty bottle. At first, Jake doesn’t seem to get it quirking his brow in confusion. When things finally click, Jake’s face morphs into surprised realization then excitement looking back and forth between a grumpy Curtis and sweet you in your makeshift cat costume bouncing Finn in your arms.

Curtis knew he should’ve stayed home.

-

Finally back home, Curtis lounged on his couch with arms crossed over his chest as some old, black and white horror movie playing on the screen mounted on the wall. The younger looking woman screaming in horror as some alien species cornered her in an alley

He couldn’t really pay attention though, with you currently in your room getting dressed to go out with your friends

“It’s our Halloween tradition! Since freshman year, we’ve always dressed up and hung out downtown.”

Selfishly Curtis wanted you home with him. You curled on the couch with your snowman blanket - as you tended to do - only a mere arms length away from him as you both watched a movie or one of your shows

He especially liked Love is Blind, but he’d never openly admit that

As if hearing his thoughts of you, the thick heels of your black booties click down the hall eventually stopping in front of him giving a little twirl and your heart melting grin

“And enter the wicked witch!”

Wicked was the word alright, but not in the traditional since of how the character looked when he was little

He could see your black thong through your lacy, wide legged black pants with spiderweb detailing. Your sleeveless top - lacy and see through as well - showing your black bustier underneath. To top everything off, a purple pointed hat on your head with black cats scattered all around in various poses

He could only stare as you excitedly grabbed your purse from the coatrack and shuffled through its contents making sure you had everything

“If Finn wakes up before I’m back, there’s two bottles in the fridge I made earlier, and the bottle warmer is already plugged in,” you state walking towards the front door as you begin typing on your phone. “Oh and-,”

Not paying attention, you don’t hear or feel Curtis get up closing the distance between you with hands stuffed in his front pockets. Turning to suddenly see his broad body startles you, making you slightly jump and a breathy giggle slip past your soft lips

“You can be very nimble for a guy your size,” you joke, but Curtis just peers down at you looking stoic as usual. “Well, I uh guess I’ll see you later then. Were you gonna lock up behind me or-,”

He simply stays silent looking stoic as usual causing your once good mood to slightly dim

“Um okay..g-goodnight then,” you weakly smile with hand twisting the doorknob. Once you have it open by just a crack, Curtis’ larger hand is pushing it closed again and leaving it there to block you from going out

Effectively confusing and startling you; making your brows slightly knit

“…Is something wrong?,” you ask.

“You want me to start being open?,” he begins still trapping you between him and the door. Not that you were particularly complaining. “Okay then, I don’t like - no, I despise the fact that a bunch of men, let alone one, are gonna have their eyes on you. Wanting something that’s not theirs.”

You can only stand there waiting for him to finish. Your back eventually pressing against the door as you step back trying to move away from his intense gaze

“Now I’m gonna give you an option. You can leave; go have fun with your friends and I drag you back here in an hour not caring if you’re ready to go or not, nor if you’re kicking or screaming when I do it. Or you can rightfully stay here.”

The way he spoke with authority as if he was your father stunned you into near silence, unable to clearly get your response out. “S-Stay?”

“Yes..with me,” he states leaning close enough that you could feel the air from his nostrils skate across your skin. “And I promise to make you forget about whatever grimy place you wanted to go and whoever you were planning to go with.”

You feel your core spasm at such a promise reflexively clenching your thighs together as your tongue peeks to wet your lips and you gently nod in approval. It should be shameful how easily you drop your purse into his waiting hand almost like you’re in a trance, but you could care less letting him lead you to his bedroom. In the morning, you’ll just text a quick apology to your friends about standing them up.

Not that they’d know what you were talking about since there weren’t any plans in the first place

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

Wildflowers (pt. xvii)

a john paul jones x fem!oc fic

summary: Julia Morgan knew nannying for three girls who had recently lost their mother would come with many challenges. But she never thought their father, the enigmatic musician John Paul Jones, would be causing her the most trouble. And while Julia is not in the business of saving broken men, her tenderness might be meant for more than little girls and wildflowers.

table of contents │ previous chapter

masterlist│ko-fi

notes: nsfw

a/n:  Merry Christmas from me to you. Hope it's worth the wait. 💖

pt. xvii, mulberry

“I feel like following you into the woods is the beginning of a fable of which I am the victim.”

Two weeks without Annie. When the cat’s away, the mice will play. And play we did.

Of course, my time was beholden to the girls and now, without Annie, I had extra responsibilities. On multiple occasions, John asked if he could compensate me for this, but I refused. A complication of sorts, our work relationship versus our newfound personal one. I simply did not want to conflate the two with any more discussion of money.

I couldn’t get enough of John. By day, he was my employer. By night (and morning and sometimes afternoon if we could help it) he was my lover. We hadn’t spent a night apart since his return from Montreux. My bed had become our haven, a safe place for us to talk and touch and tease. Just as the studio had been. But now we were much, much closer than that.

In just the two short weeks, so much had changed. John lasted longer and longer, as he had promised so adamantly. We became more comfortable bearing our bodies to one another, although in the cloak of night, most things feel possible.

I also noticed with the passing days, that John wasn’t just skin and bones anymore. The brittle edges of his ribs softened; his belly curved a bit more. He was hungry again. I’d never claim that I was responsible for this change. It’s just what the excitement of fresh, possible love does to a person. In the first year with Nick, I’d gained nearly a stone, which my mother was not shy to let me know.

Two weeks without Annie. I was exhausted. Kept busy by the girls who I desperately needed back in school as soon as possible. Kept awake by John’s seemingly limitless adoration. Everything was slipping through the cracks. Phone calls and letters went unanswered and much needed alone time fell through my fingers.

And I was so bloody happy.

But of course, all good things must come to an end.

“Annie comes back tomorrow,” John remarked to me while we washed dishes after dinner.

This was our new, after dinner routine. I washed, he dried. Strange to think it had become usual. It would all change tomorrow evening when Annie returned for dinner from her makeshift maternity leave. “Thank goodness. My hands are raw from all the washing. Who knew there was so much laundry?” I said wryly, running a sponge over another dish.

“Three children? Lots of laundry? Utterly shocking,” John chuckled, then looked over his shoulder at the girls who were playing a boardgame without argument (so far). “So, listen, Mo’s mother wants to take the girls to buy new school shoes.”

I handed him the cleaned dish to dry and shook my hands off of the scalding water. “Yeah? When does she want to do that?”

“I told her tomorrow would be good. Give you a day,” he answered and then softly added, “Give me a day.”

We exchanged a glance, John’s blue eyes glinting mischievously. I blushed and returned to the stack of dishes left to be washed.

“Something have you blushing?”

“No, it’s all the steam,” I replied. “Very hot.”

John laughed softly and then leaned his hip against mine, the pressure just enough to be purposeful. Always trying to test the boundaries of what we could get away with when the girls were in the room. “Shame. I was hoping it was my doing.”

My heart fluttered. “Me blushing because of you? Never.”

“Hm…” John buffed the plate in his hand. “Sounds like I need to try harder.”

I handed him the next plate. “You’re playing a dangerous game…”

“Don’t act like you don’t love every second.”

I pursed my lips, trying to hold back a smile. I did love every second. And if I was honest with myself, there was a slim part of me that nearly wished the girls would catch us. I was craving this budding love to be witnessed.

Then there was no way it could be pretend.

The next morning, Mrs. Hegarty arrived at precisely nine o’clock. The girls greeted her enthusiastically with hugs and kisses all around.

“Good spirits, I see,” Mrs. Hegarty grinned.

John sighed, “Yes, they are none the wiser to the exhaustion behind the scenes.”

Mrs. Hegarty touched John fondly on the face before grabbing my hand.  “You look well, Julia.” 

“Oh, you as well. Something to do with all the sunshine, no doubt,” I replied, hoping she didn’t notice how much my hands were sweating. I hadn’t said as much to John, but I was terrified that Maureen’s mother would be able to sniff our dalliance from a mile away.

“How are you spending your day off?” she asked me.

“I…well…errands,” I said and then laughed stupidly. “You know how it is.”

“I do. Always something,” she rolled her eyes. “Especially with little ones.”

“You’re lucky you’re not taking Julia to get new shoes. They have to special order them, her feet are so large,” John remarked dryly.

Mrs. Hegarty smacked him on the arm. “John! Your mouth…”

I gasped in laughter at her unintentional double entendre. “Why didn’t you warn me about this?”

“Then you wouldn’t have taken the job,” she replied, shaking his arm. “You…”

John eyed me with a smug smile on his face. I glared with all my might: You’re going to get it later.

Thankfully, Mrs. Hegarty moved on, ignoring any bit of tension. “Alright, girls. Say goodbye and get in the car.”

The girls did not spend much time on goodbyes, except for Kiera who demanded a kiss from both her father and me. I would die from the joy of domesticity.

“Try to enjoy yourselves at least a bit, hm?” Mrs. Hegarty said with a pointed look toward John. “All the working…not good for a person.”

“I’ll try my best,” John replied, taking her arm in his and leading her out to the car.

I stood at the door and watched as they said another goodbye. The girls leaned out the windows and waved to me. “Julia! Find a flower for me!” Kiera screeched with a big smile.

I laughed to myself. We had spent so much time exploring the woods over the past two weeks, revisiting the Flower Fairy poems, trying to find all the ones we could. Each new flower we found, we’d pick and bring home to press in one of the big encyclopedias kept in the sitting room.

Excursing into the forest hadn’t been a part of my plan for the day. In my imaginings, I only could picture fucking as much as possible in as many rooms as possible. Break in the house as if it was ours, so each nook and cranny had a memory of the way we made each other feel. That way, I could never be forgotten.

But the house was not mine, would never be mine even if John and I continued our intimacy beyond secret rendezvousing. Admittedly, from time to time, I would feel the blunt edge of guilt against my throat.

Warren House was Maureen’s. John had told me as much on the first day arrived. While I was not superstitious and did not believe in ghosts, her trace was in every room. Even the purchasing of the house was entirely for her. After all, she would be the one spending most of her time here and raising their children. In this way, I was overstaying my welcome. There was no part of the house I could claim as my own with John other than my little room.

For this reason, the woods…presented quite an interesting opportunity.

John watched the car peel off, his hands on his hips, his backside looking absolutely edible in his slacks, waiting until it was completely out of sight and then some before turning around to look at me.

We remained quiet as he came to meet me in the doorway. He slid his hands in his pockets and then leaned forward to kiss me. “Well,” he whispered as he drew away. “How would you like to begin?”

I did not reply, instead turning on my heels and making my way through the house to the sitting room. John followed eagerly behind me, but once I opened the door onto the terrace, he faltered.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

He frowned in confusion.

“You want to come?”

“I’m really not properly dressed.”

I shrugged slightly and then continued on my way outside. John followed without qualming any further, catching up to me and wrapping his arm around my hip. “You’re impossible, you know.”

“Am I really?” I asked and slipped out of his grasp once again, picking up the pace.

“Am I going to have to come after you, then?”

“I guess that depends how bad you want it.”

John’s pupils jumped wider. He cocked his head and curled up his lips. I knew that look. If I didn’t get ahead of him, he’d catch up to me too quickly. And so, I sprinted off in the direction of the woods, leaving him in my wake. He was not far behind me. My heart galloped like a rabbit running from a fox even though I was laughing breathlessly.

I arrived at the mouth of the forest first, where the trees bent like an archway, serving as the gateway into a different, verdant world.

“Alright, you win,” he said through gravelly breaths, approaching with slow strides. “Christ, I didn’t know how out of shape…”

I leant up against one of the trees, waiting for him with a smile. “Have to get out more, John.”

“Suppose so. Although with you around that doesn’t seem to be a problem,” he murmured.

I tucked my hands between my back and the bark. “Well?”

John approached me slowly, eyes scanning me up and down, until he was right in front of me. Too close if we were strangers. Much too close for my employer. He was still trying to catch his breath, each measured one softly touching my cheeks. “Well, what?”

I tilted my head back with a smile.

John didn’t tease me further; he kissed me softly, a hand to my waist and another by my head against the tree. One kiss turned to two, to three until he broke away and muttered, “If I couldn’t run from there to here, I really doubt I can get a leg over up against a tree.”

I cackled, grabbing his hand. “No, no, we’ve got to go for a walk first.”

John resisted me, feet staunchly planted. “I feel like following you into the woods is the beginning of a fable of which I am the victim.”

“Are you calling me a temptress?”  

“Yes. Absolutely,” he answered adamantly. “You’re a witch.” 

I tugged on him harder. John took several steps toward me. I was weakening him.

“You like to spirit a man away from his home and trap him with your feminine wiles,” he added.

“It gets lonely in the woods, how could you blame me?” I asked, adding to this mythology we were creating. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

John clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

“Come with me, John,” I lilted.

He sighed, looking back up the hill and then to me.

“Are you scared of the woods?”

John scoffed, “No, I’m not scared.”

“I’ll protect you,” I replied. “Don’t you worry.”

John didn’t respond. I pulled again on his hand, a few more steps into the forest, the world growing verdant and shady. Something was keeping him, but I wasn’t going to let him abandon me here. “Fine. I’m coming. I’m a weak man,” he finally conceded.

I turned, not dropping his hand. “Come on. I have things I want to show you.”

We weaved through the forest, quiet at first. Eventually, John relaxed and followed without me having to guide him by the hand. When we came to the stream, I requested he take off his shoes.

John was wary at first and waited for me to remove mine. It was funny that a man in a profession such as his seemed afraid to take hold of his freedoms in a place such as this. And both of us being from the city, I understood his hesitation. If I hadn’t had my time at the farm with Auntie Gin and Graham, I probably wouldn’t feel as confident to claim my place here.

But for dust we are. And to dust we will return.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” John grumbled, poking his toes into the water.

I slid one of my feet against slimy, mossy rock. “You’ll get used to it.”

If I really was a witch, my spell had worked on him. He followed without hesitation. “I have to admit, this is not what I had in mind when I thought about spending the day together…”

I giggled as I carefully stepped further into the trickling stream. The cold water sent pangs through my ankles until I got acclimated to the frigid temperature. John followed behind me, his pant legs cuffed so as not to get wet. “What did you have in mind then?” I asked.

The forest sounds of rustling foliage and the tweeting of birds were only interrupted by the sloshing of our feet in the water.

“I expected to be more naked, I suppose.”

I laughed and gave him a smile over my shoulder. “Our feet are bare. Does that count for anything?”

“If I were that kind of man, perhaps.”

“John.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Julia. People like what they like.”

“Right, like you like walking behind me right now, hm?” I flirted, glancing over my shoulder at him.

John reflexively looked down at my behind and then back at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be shy. People like what they like.”

“Oh, hush.”

I laughed and walked a few more steps before stopping suddenly. John ran into my back and grabbed onto my waist with a gasp. “Julia!”

“Sorry, I thought I saw a tadpole! Didn’t want to step on it,” I said innocently, grinding my hips into him.

John tightened his grip on me. “Aren’t you just an absolute angel?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Before I could reply, he smacked his hand against my ass. I let out a ream of laughter and squirmed away. “Yes, I am. I care for all of God’s creatures. In all sorts of ways.”

“I’m familiar with your care, Julia.”

We returned to our pattern of walking through the stream, me leading, John following, pausing our conversation to take in the sounds of nature around us.

“How much longer?” he asked after a bit.

“Not too much.”

“I’m starting to think you really are lur – her – hah!” John cut himself off with an exclamation, accidentally slipping on a particularly mossy.

“Careful,” I warned.

“I was being careful!”

I gave him a look I would give one of the girls when they were being dishonest.

“I was! Swear!”

I started forward again, but not another step forward and I heard the same water sloshing, the same ridiculous exclaiming, and, this time, a loud splash. I turned to find John laid out in the water on his bottom, having caught himself to keep himself mostly upright. “I told you to be careful!” I cried out.

“The rocks are slippery!”

“Not if you’re careful.”

John growled to himself, looking like a drenched chick in a nest. He extended a dripping hand toward me. “Help me up.”

“Oh, no. I know exactly what you’ll do with that.” I turned back around and continued walking. “You’ll take my hand and then pull me down and then we’ll both we wet and –”

The rocks were indeed slippery, as evidenced by my feet sliding out from under me, throwing me straight onto my bottom and into the water. I was stunned into silence, gasping as cold water twinged against my skin and my dress soaked.

John stared to laugh. “Not if you’re careful, eh?”

I splashed him with water. “Shut up!”

John flinched, grinning ear to ear, and then splashed me back. Flecks of water hit my face. I scrambled toward him in the stream and sprung myself on top of him, enveloping him in a kiss. He caught me, nearly falling back all the way into the water. Despite being chilled to the bone, the kiss warmed us both right up.

“Well,” John murmured against my lips. “Now that we’re soaked, should we head back?”

I shook my head. “No, no. We’re almost there. Follow me.”

We helped one another carefully out of the water, rivulets of water flowing down from our clothes, creating sounds of trickling as we continued down the stream.

Only five more minutes of walking. Then, came the welcoming sight of the craggy rocks where the water spilled out from. I found the footholds up the bank that had been there since before I had discovered the place and John followed. At the top of the embankment, we could see it. My little pond.

Since I had discovered it back in May, I had been several times to lay out in the sun, to swim, to contemplate. It was somewhere I could escape to. And while I wanted to save it for me, I want more to share it with John.

“Are we here?” John asked, looking out at the water.

“Yes, we’re here,” I replied. “I come out here a lot when I can. To think.”

“Hm.”

“And to swim.”

John chuckled, “To swim. You’re something of a free spirit, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I admit, I haven’t spent much time in the forest. It always seems very frivolous, I suppose,” John said in thoughtful quiet. “Then again, I was here so rarely that I had to be with the girls.” He pursed his lips tight. He wanted to say more and was holding it back.

I had noticed this more often now. Moments that he would go somewhere else. When Mo, I assumed, would cross his mind. He would leave his present form, burrow into a memory, and time would stop. It was best to leave him to it. But not for too long, else he’d get lost for too long.

I walked over to a small tree, one that had become a friend of mine, with its branches extending like hands. I started to undo the zipper on the back of my dress. “You want to go for a swim?” I asked, pulling the bodice of my dress down my arms.

“Julia!”

I turned back to John, my dress hanging down over my hips, only wearing a bra on my upper half. His eyes darted to my tits. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” I giggled and then pushed the dress over my hips to expose my lower half.

“You can’t go swimming like that. Not in the middle of the woods.”

I shook my head, hanging the dress up in the branches of the tree to dry. “Oh, John. Don’t pretend like you’re all innocence, hm?”

“What if someone walks through and sees you in your…you know?”

“Well, they won’t,” I replied, undoing the clasp on my brassiere.

John’s eyes opened so wide I thought they might plop out of his head.

I couldn’t look at him as I took off my bra. Even though we’d be naked with one another, it was never in the pure light of day. I tried to hold back a blush, more exposed than ever. I thought about all my little imperfections that would be clear in the light: cellulite, body hair, and errant zit on my thigh. All of those things made me feel less like a woman and more like an ogre just because I had striven my whole life to be an unattainable perfect body.

Through the fear of being imperfect, I wanted him to see me.

I hung the bra on another branch on the tree, my nipples shriveling in the air, erect and prominent. “Besides, our clothes have to dry, don’t they?”

“I…I…” he burbled like a baby. “I suppose.”

I took off my underwear without much fanfare and hung them on the tree too. And then, shaking my hair off my shoulders, I walked past John to the rock I always jumped off of into the water. I felt his eyes the whole way over. It was nice to know that despite whatever violent delights he’d experienced in his strange, hedonistic life that he could still be surprised.

I dove into the water and left him on the bank. When I came back up for air, I looked up at John. His shock had morphed into a disbelieving smile.

“Come in the water,” I say, letting my feet float up to the surface.

John touched the bottom button of his shirt and nervously twiddled it in his finger. “Turn around.”

“What?!” I scoffed.

“Just…turn around, Julia.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen, John.”

“I know but…” he bashfully replied, looking away.

I couldn’t blame him; I had felt the same way.

“Just please,” John said with a pleading look.

I did. “You better be getting totally naked. No knickers.”

“Promise.”

I waited for a bit, trying to determine what sound I was hearing. The belt clacking, the trousers dropping, the leaves on the branches shuffling.

“Alright, I’m coming in.”

I started to turn.

“Don’t look!”

“John!”

“You promised!”

“You saw me. Can’t I see you?”

John let out a garbled sigh. “Just don’t act like you’re looking, alright?’

I sucked in my lower lips and smiled. “Alright.”

“And don’t say anything.”

I didn’t reply, turning my head slightly. In my periphery, I could see the peachiness of his new form, undetailed and bare. I turned a little more, finding him standing on the rock in glorious nakedness. There he was. Everything I knew so well and yet, in this light, so much better.

The things that in ourselves we define as imperfections were the things I gravitated toward. The slight paunch of his belly on his incredibly slim form, the disproportion of his long arms to his height, his flaccid penis looking shy and unsure, but full of a potential I’d grown to crave.

John was beautiful.

“You’re staring,” he muttered, wrapping his arms across his chest to hide his nipples.

I looked away. “Sorry, sorry.”

I didn’t watch as John leapt into the water, just felt the spray hit my face. The water stilled where he entered for the briefest moment. Then, he burst through the surface, gasping for air. “Bloody fucking hell!”

I started to laugh. “It’s not that bad.”

John pushed the sopping strands of his hair out of his face. “God, you really are a witch. Having me jump in frigid cold water completely…” He trailed off when his eyes met mine.

I sucked my lower lip under my teeth. The water almost came up to my chin with my feet touching the bed of the pond while John’s collar bone was visible almost entirely.

“What?” he asked softly.

I shook my head and then sunk under the water, pushing off with my feet and propelling backward, away from him. The water usual dampened the sounds of the rest of the world, but now I could hear John’s own movements in the water with me, coming closer and closer, until his hand wrapped around my ankle. In the soft slowness of the water, I let him drag me back toward him, my body curving, slipping down the length of his body until my feet were again touching the pond bottom.

We emerged from the water at the same time, a joint breath, the water now just beneath my breasts and John only an inch away, his hand having traveled up from my ankle to my hip.

I placed my hands on his chest tenderly. I wanted to explore every part of him, study him, make a topographical map of his body. I wanted to keep him. I traced my fingers along his clavicle to his shoulder, feeling the sharpness of his bones.

John leaned forward. I thought to kiss me. But instead, he nudged his nose against my cheek and pulled me into his arms.

We held each other for a while there in the water, arms encircling one another. Endless.

“Why are you scared?” I asked against his ear lobe. “For me to see you?”

I felt John’s simmering laugh in his chest. “Because no one’s looked at me in a long time,” he answered. He nuzzled his nose against my cheek. “And because you’re so utterly…not scared.”

I hooked my hand on his shoulder, leaning my head against his, shutting my eyes tight. “You’ve got it all wrong, John. I’m terrified.”

John hummed like he learned something he hadn’t expected.

“And you’re beautiful,” I added, my voice infused the way the leaves moved in the trees, so particularly quiet and ever-present.

“Oh, I’m not much.”

The last time I said that to a man was to Jimmy in the gardens of Plumpton. A shock of his memory panged in my brain. I pressed my face to his cheek, needful to forget the intrusive thought of Jimmy Page. “You’re really beautiful,” I repeated.

John didn’t shrink away. In fact, he gravitated further into me, turning his face to meet mine, his lips hungering against mine in a kiss. Our hips locked together, the water around us sloshing softly.

Water is a quiet thing until it is overwhelmed. It is pure until it is violent. And while John and I had communed and communed and communed together so many times, this was different. This was…

Holy.

“Let me see you,” I said breathlessly.

“You are.”

“No, let me –” I started to reach for the spot between his legs.

“Don’t,” John exclaimed, knocking my hand away. “It’s too cold, I’ve…retreated from the chill.”

“That’s such a polite way of putting it,” I giggled. 

He swallowed as he looked down at my breasts. “Well, I’m a very polite person.”

I traced my fingers down his arms to his hands and led him once again. He was under the spell completely now that he’d followed me into the water in the middle of the forest, naked. I had him around my finger. Just as I wanted.

To the shale rock on the shore that inclined out of the water, under a broken shaft of light where I often sat and sunned myself like a lizard after my swims. I spun him around and cornered him up against it. John braced himself. “Julia.”

“Up,” I demanded.

John swallowed, but followed my instruction. He sat on the rock, slowly backing out of the water.

My eyes immediately went between his legs where his cock that had indeed shrunk in the water, was now starting to come back to life in the sun. I crawled up onto the rock between John’s legs, regarding it with adoration before looking back to John. He was on high alert, sitting straight up as a pole.

“Lean back, John.”

He leant back on his elbows warily.

I ran my hands up the length of his legs, from his ankles to the tops of his thighs and back. I pressed a kiss to the inside of his ankle.

“Julia, listen…”

“Hm?” I continued a deathly slow trail of kisses up his calf.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Mhm.” I kissed the inside of his opposite knee and drew my hands up to his thighs again.

John’s leg jerked and he let out a puffy sigh. “You know I won’t last, you know I won’t.”

I raised my gaze to him. “I don’t care.”

John’s breath halted in his chest as he stared at me.

“I want you in my mouth,” I murmured. “Would you let me?”

He blinked, mouth falling ajar. Then, he nodded.

I smiled, my eyes not leaving his as I returned to my trail of kisses. I didn’t want to miss an inch of the pale inside of his thigh. His skin was broken out in tight goosebumps, sheeny with pond water. Closer and closer until I got to the crux of his thigh and groin. I planted a long kiss to his hip bone before eyeing his member. His cock had recovered stupendously, hardening still by the second, foreskin tensing nearly all the way back from the head. I burrowed my nose into his shroud of damp pubic hair, teasingly close. 

“For Christ’s sake…” He was getting antsy. I loved making him squirm.

I kissed the base of his cock softly. It was hot, especially compared to the water we’d just emerged from. I trailed kisses up his cock, all the way to the head, following it as it curved to right onto his stomach. “You want to be in my mouth?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Want to feel the back of my throat?”

“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

I smiled, the head of his cock pressed to my lips. Our eyes met across the plane of John’s shimmering torso. I tucked my tongue under the ridge of the head, causing him to wince. “Sensitive…” I whispered and then popped the head between my lips like a lolly.

John’s thighs tensed around me. I placed a hand against his belly to steady myself as I slid him further into my mouth. Up and down, I bobbed. Painfully slow.

Every small noise John made was music to my ears, from the movement of saliva in his mouth to the way his breath was starting to wane to a whimper. I caressed the base of his shaft as I took him deeper and deeper.

Abruptly, John’s hips stuttered, shoving his cock up against the back of my unprepared throat. I drew back and gagged.

“God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay…” I replied, licking my lower lip, steadying my breath. “You can fuck my face if you want.”

John looked at me dumbfounded. “What?”

I blinked. I couldn’t imagine he hadn’t heard anything like that before or done anything like that before. “Why do you keep acting surprised by the things I’m saying?”

“Because I am!” he replied on a laugh. “Because…” His ruby lips twisted to the side as did his gaze.

“Say it.”

John’s cerulean eyes jumped into mine again with stolidness. “Because when I met you, you seemed like such a good girl.”

I smiled astonishedly. I hadn’t realized how much I’d subverted his expectations. And while usually I was annoyed that people assumed my purity, this time, I loved it.

“But you’re really…”

Bad. Naughty. Dirty. I didn’t care. I put him back in my mouth and returned to my rhythm before he could finish his sentence. John’s whole body tightened. Now, primed to take him entirely, I worked him into my mouth faster and faster, until the head of his cock pressed up against the back of my throat again.

John collapsed, groaning. “Fucking hell…” One of his hands found the back of my head; he knitted his fingers through my hair, encouraging and unforceful.

I took him deep and fast as I could. I was sloppy, but I knew it would serve my purpose. To taste him. With one hand, I massaged his scrotum; the other found his empty hand. John took it tightly, squeezing our palms together so that my fingers splayed wide. He needed me. Needed to hold onto me. First he’d been afraid to get naked and jump in the water and now he was at the mercy of my mouth in the middle of the woods.

John’s eyes were shut tight, mouth lolling open between gasps, curses, and –

“Julia…”

I had learned how he said my name warningly. But I didn’t need the warning. I could feel the skin tautening around his balls, ready to burst the moment I hit him just right.

“I’m g-getting close.”

I hummed to get his attention. John opened his eyes again and watched me wrench my hand around the base of his cock.

An anticipatory breath. Hand gripping my hair.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum?”

“Mhm…” I hooked my thumb under his scrotum and pressed it against his perineum. And just like that…

Boom.

John cried out nonsensically, mewling like an injured animal. He writhed and twisted as the orgasm consumed him. His seed painted my mouth in spurts as his cock spasmed, tangy and hot. I slid him out of my mouth and swallowed before the texture became repulsive. Then, I rested my head in the cradle of his hip bone, watching his stomach rise and fall to catch his breath.

His fingers wove through my hair back and forth. A growl of satisfaction rolled up from the pit of his belly.

“So good,” I murmured against his skin.

John finally stabilized and lifted his head to look at me. As soon as our eyes met, he smiled. “Fuck.”

I giggled and kissed his navel.

He ran his hands over his face, pushing back tendrils of wet hair. “Fuuuuck.”

“Good or bad?”

John laughed. “What do you think?”

I could have spent a lifetime between his legs, hands on his thighs, gazing up at him. “So if I’m not a good girl, what am I?”

John lopsidedly grinned and tugged on my arm until I was tangled up against his chest. Like we were laying in bed together in the morning. “A very good girl.”

I bit my lower lip and nudged my nose against his, inviting a kiss which he bade me.

John sighed heavily. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing.”

“But all I’ve done is –”

“Pleasing you pleases me,” I whispered.

John did not contest this; he pulled my leg across his waist and we laid there in our afterglow.

While pleasing a man with your mouth can be a thankless job, it doesn’t feel that way for the right person. When the pheromones are correct and the way their moans hit your ear send chills down your spine, that’s a whole different kind of getting off.

That’s power.

John and I could have laid there on the shale rock for eons and become a part of the scenery. Birds, leaves, lovers. What is more natural than that?

Our silence was interrupted by a grumble in my belly.

“Should we go back?” John teased, touching my waist.

“Mm-mm. Here.”

I got to my feet and climbed to the tip of the rock, naked and unafraid. It abutted a mulberry tree, pregnant with fruit. I picked some ripe berries and brought them back to John who eyed me suspiciously.

“What’s that look?” I asked, popping a berry into my mouth.

“You know it’s historically a bad idea to take fruit from a beautiful woman,” John said.

“Well, it’s also a historically bad idea to take it from a beautiful man as well. So,” I shrugged, licking my thumb clean of berry juice.

John smiled and took one from me. “I guess we’re both going to hell anyway.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally caught on,” I replied and put a so-purple-it’s-black between my lips for him to retrieve.

With a smile, John put his lips to mine, tongue curling around the berry. Ginger and intimate.

We gobbled down the berries, tart and sweet, the seeds getting stuck between our teeth and juice staining our fingers. And then, with full bellies, we reclined again on the rock, retreating into the warmth of the sunlight. Idle conversation, little kisses, long glances full of something unspoken to. 

Ashdown was our Garden of Eden or our Underworld, depending on who you believe tempted who.

But fullness and warmth commune together to create an inconvenient sort of thing: sleep. And despite everything, John and I drifted off together in the blanket of nature.

I guess I’d be remiss not to admit that I was falling for John, although I would not let myself think the word “love”. How else would I have been able to fall asleep in the duff in the middle of the woods if not having him by my side? There was no pretense to what was between us. We already knew the shade of each other. Now all we had to do was bask in the light.

John jerked awake first with a sharp inhale. “Aw, fuck. I fell asleep.”

“Me too.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

I squinted up at the sky. The light had shifted significantly, sun directly up in the sky. My body was completely dry and my hair like straw.  “Early afternoon.”

“Shit. Shit.”

“The girls, what time will they be –‘”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think to ask because I didn’t think we’d be leaving the house. I thought we’d be –” John stopped and then looked back at our clothes, his forehead and lips tightening. “Shit.”

I grabbed his bicep. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll just go back. And if they’re back early, I doubt their grandmother would say no to more time with them.”

John shrugged me off and bolted off toward our clothes, scrambling around the shoreline over the moss-covered rocks. “Yes, and what will she say when you and I trip inside looking all raggedy and strange when you said you’d be running errands and I said I’d be working. She’s not an idiot,” he said whilst ripping pieces of his clothing off the tree.

I watched him, wrapping my arms around my legs, feeling myself caving in. “We just went for a walk.”

John scoffed. “Not to mention the girls will have questions. And what is it that you say? They always know more than they let on or whatever.”

I didn’t recognize John through his mania. He had been so calm and confident, even teasing me in front of Maureen’s mother. Why was he trembling now? Why was he afraid of being seen with me?

He looked back to me anxiously. “Put your clothes on, yeah?”

I nodded and hurriedly followed his instruction. No romance, no playful flirtation. Didactic and direct.

Like we once were. All those months ago. I hadn’t felt like the girl, the ghost, in a while. But it all came flooding back to me now as John’s cold demeanor returned.

I followed him back through the forest, neither of us speaking. The long walk made even longer by the pounding of my heart and the deep wound of abandoning our haven. I had forgotten something important; Eve abandoned the Garden. Persephone didn’t want the Underworld in the first place.

They were temporary.

And John and I…

Temporary.

I shook off the thought.

Finally, we made it to the heath. I could still hear the laughter from hours before, except now we were silent and beads of sweat were rolling down my back from the hot sun hanging in the sky. I longed for John to look back at me just once to let me know that I was okay. That we were okay.

John went in through the sitting room doors ahead of me; I snuck in quietly behind him. He stood in the middle of the room, waiting.

The house was stupendously quiet.

“They’re not here yet,” John said softly.

“No.” I sucked on my lower lip.

John turned around to look at me. That coldness and worry had dissipated. He was smiling.  

All the worry in my heart disappeared. That’s how you know you’re doomed. When at one moment, you can feel like sorrow over the one you adore will kill you one moment and then, the next, they can make you feel like you’re on top of the world again. It’s like getting high. It’s like cocaine.

I suddenly felt so young.

“God, I was panicked,” John laughed.

I laughed too, shallowly. “Sorry, we should have just stayed at the house. I don’t know what I was thinking or –”

“No, no, no,” John cut me off and came over to me. He encircled his arms around my waist. “Your cheeks are red.”

“So are yours,” I replied. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

John touched my cheek. It was tender, sun-singed. “Have I upset you?”

I shook my head. “No, no. You just scared me. I don’t want to be a problem.”

“You’re not.”

“What I mean is, I don’t want to get in the way of –”

“You’re not, I promise.” John kissed my temple. “I’ve been so – uhm – caught up these past two weeks. Sometimes I get so lost that I feel like I’m a child.” His breath hitched in my ear. “Then I remember. Everything that’s happened to me. And to you. And…”

I played with one of the buttons on his shirt as he spoke. The thread was coming loose. I thought I’d love to fix it for him.

He swallowed. “I like how you make me feel, darling.”

I smiled.

John pulled at my skirt, bunching it in his hand until his fingers grazed my bare leg. “And perhaps against my better judgment, I’ll follow you into the forest anytime you like.” He kissed my neck. “Would you like that?”

I giggled as he peppered me with kisses. “Yes.”

“And since we have time, maybe we –”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

I gasped and pushed John away. Annie stood in the doorway, clutching her heart as if she might have an arrythmia. “Annie!”

“Are you two mad? What the devil is wrong with you?”

“It’s not –” I began.

“Don’t,” she cut me off, fire in her stare.

John tucked himself behind one of the wingback chairs as if distance somehow erased what Annie had just seen. “What are you doing here? So soon? We weren’t expecting you until this evening!”

Annie glared. “Clearly.” Her eyes reminded me of storm clouds. “I thought I’d get the house in order before I started on dinner. Was worried you’d burnt the place down, but clearly you had other things on your mind.”

I gulped. “We can explain.”

“Both of you sit. Now.”

John and I exchanged a nervous look. We might have been grown adults, but a mother’s wrath still shook us to our cores. John sat in a chair while I found an uncomfortable spot on the sofa a few leagues off.

Annie walked to the middle of the room, taking the floor as if it were a courtroom. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Annie,” John tutted as if he was speaking to one o the girls. “Really, this is –”

“Hush, young man.”

John zipped his lips together. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

“Something funny, Julia?”

I shook my head, hand still plastered to my mouth.

“Good. I’m not trying to be funny. There are responsibilities in this house. You both have responsibilities to the children. And getting tangled about like that is nothing but distraction.” Annie looked at me. “How long has this been going on?”

John tried to calculate. “Just a couple weeks.”

“No wonder you were so eager to shuffle me out the door. You wanted to gallivant about without a witness, mm?” Annie paced back and forth, shifting her ire between us. “Well, don’t think I haven’t noticed the road you two’ve been on. With all the stolen glances and little giggles. Not to mention the night you two slept in the same bed, trying to pass that off as –”

“We really did just sleep, I promise,” I interrupted.

Her attention shifted to me like she was a bird of prey. “Don’t interrupt me.”

I swallowed my tongue.

“I just expected you both to be better than this. Especially you, Julia. I expected more from you, Julia.”

“Me? What about him?” I cried out incredulously.

She rolled her eyes. “You know better. You know how men are.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad I lived up to expectations,” John mumbled.

Annie crossed her arms. “Where are the girls?”

“Out. With their grandmother,” he answered.

“You haven’t been mucking about in front of them, have you?”

“Of course not!” John replied.

Annie sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. There’s still time for you to undo all of this then.”

The word undo implies that there’s a way to return to the way things once were. That was not this. Even if we wanted to or tried to, I was not sure we could ever undo what had been done.

“Why are you so upset with us, Annie?” I asked. “We’re not hurting anyone.”

“Definitely not hurting,” John said under his breath.

I bit back a laugh. “John, please. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

We exchanged childish smiles, two troublemakers in the headmistress’ office.

“Really, be serious, won’t you?” Annie said, the tone of her voice having shifted from that of attack to resignation. “No. You’re not hurting anyone. Not yet.”

Not yet.

Annie straightened out the boddice of her dress and adjusted a bobby pin in her tight bun. “I don’t want to pick up the pieces of anyone. Understand? I’ve done far than I’d like to of that. I can’t have any more hurt in this house. No more.”

I suddenly understood Annie’s gut response; she’d been traumatized by the love she’d witnessed in this house. The profound loss of a matriarch, the suffering of her children and widowered husband. She could only see the potential for loss between John and me.

“Annie, I think you’ll find we’re both rather happy with the situation as it stands,” John said carefully. “Right, Julia?”

I smiled. “Yes. Happy is a good word for it.”

Annie shook her head. “You’ll have to be good. I won’t tolerate for any foolishness around me or the girls.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t dream of it,” John replied.

She started to back away to the door. “I’m going to the kitchen now to tidy up and get started on dinner. Don’t you even dare think about going back to shaking sheets or –”

“We won’t. Promise, Annie,” I said, leaning forward, hoping for any sort of sign from her she wasn’t upset with me. She really had become my mum.

Annie’s eyes hardened on me. I couldn’t tell if she was angry at me for being loose or hurt for not telling her. Or perhaps playing out my future like an auger who knew more than she’d like. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she muttered on her way out the door.

John and I sat for a moment in silence before he got up. “I’m going to go try and smooth things over with her.”

“Alright.” I’d felt sad I hadn’t even been able to ask her about Bethany and the baby. The little boy.

John came to me and kissed the crown of my head. “It’ll be fine.”

Once he’d left, I realized how utterly exhausted I was. The long walk and the sunshine, the whiplash of emotion in just the past half hour.

I’d gotten my wish. For us to be witnessed.

And contrary to how I had imagined it, it felt absolutely terrible.           

tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @edal-weis, @ritacaroline, @kyunisixx, @salixfragilis, @rebel-without-a-zeppelin, @jimmypages, @dollyvandal, @cassiana-on-dark-side, @thepinklovewitch, @babyl222, @faisonsunreve, @sastrugie, @seventieswhore, @raptorcat1960, @t4ngerinedr3am, @mayspringcome, @barrettavenue, @foreverandadaydarling, @glimmerofsanity, @matty-heally, @lzep, @jimmysdragonsuit13, @n0quart3r, @larsgoingtomars (let me know if you’d like to be added 💋)

[innytoes]

I am behind on all of the things but this is me inviting you to give your headcanons about Ezra Mercer/the Alex & Julie platonic powercouple Arranged Marriage AU ❤️

Set in @daintyduck99‘s arranged marriage AU.

-Ezra Mercer grows up with so many parental figures. Like sure, his friends have Mother and Father and Nanny, but HE has his mother and father, his papa, his daddy, and his Willie. And uncles and aunties. He learns pretty quickly not to call any of them by their parent names in front of Father's parents, because they're big meanies.

-You just know that Willie is encouraging every single schoolboy prank of Ezra's behind Alex and Julie's back.

-Ray Molina just straight-faced saying Ezra takes after Tío Julio whenever anyone points out that he looks a lot like that fellow who runs the stables. Victoria nods along even though she knows neither Rose or Ray have a Tío Julio.

-Explaining the birds and the bees is easy, because the barn cat just had kittens and Reggie thought that would be a better starting point than horses. Love and marriage and relationships are a liiittle harder and he gets flummoxed at Ezra's rapid fire questions (he is Alex' son no matter what DNA he has) and he has to call in reinforcements.

-Ezra going to all his parents one by one for advice about what to do with his first crush and finally going to Aunt Flynn because he has no idea how his parents even got together because that advice was all terrible ("Just write them a song!") or unhelpful ("We love you no matter who you love") or weird ("Take them into a museum and scream with them.").

-Reggie just straight up sat him down like: look buddy do you think I have any idea how I ended up with your mother and daddy? I have no clue! Just be yourself? Be kind to animals. Bribe their horse with apples. I don’t know!

-They're all raising him but Alex and Julie have final say if only because they're usually the ones who are most likely to think thinks through logically and not tell Little Ezra to balance a bucket of horse manure over the door of his bully's house right before school.

-Julie and Alex regularly just sit on the sofa in front of the fire, her legs flung over his, as they gossip about their partners and friends and people at parties. Since Luke and Reggie have ins with other people’s servants, and Willie is Willie, they know everyone’s business.

[cosmicfortuna]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔

I wrote this for my school newspaper a while ago and wanted to post it on here. It's based off of Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years" because why not and covers the story of two immoral lovers finally reuniting after hundreds of years.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡♥︎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━

Her breath hitched. 

It was him. 

She was sure of it. The pounding in her chest was proof enough. 

She thought she was seeing things when she saw him standing outside the building but indeed, it was him. Standing under an illuminated street lamp. 

He looked beautiful, so inhumanly beautiful. His dark hair and pale skin glowed almost otherworldly under the moonlight. His sweet dark brown eyes flickering back and forth between people inside the café before they fall upon her.

She quickly moved her gaze back to the steaming cup of hot cocoa. Even though her cup of hot chocolate was steaming hot, she felt cold. It was winter, sure, and the café didn’t have really good heating but she felt a deep rooted coldness. Maybe hollow was the right word. Yes. Hollow. Like a hollowed out tree that was once home to bird and woodland rodents only for said critters to suddenly leave one day.  

She returned her gaze to the man outside. Snow started to gently fall, slowly building on his shoulders. He wasn't dressed for the weather, not like it affected him anyway. He wore a white ruffled shirt underneath a leather jacket and a pair of black pants with a belted corset. Her eyes grew sad. 

If memory served her right (which it usually did), he used to wear that outfit whenever he had a meeting with what he called the “vampiric nannies”. At the time, she disagreed with the term as she was practically raised by nannies as a half-blooded orphan. Her opinion had changed since then. Those “nannies” were the reason that the two of them were separated by a glass window of a human cafe. 

Why come back now? 

That was a silly question. She knew why. 

She stared at him for a while, then moved back to her lukewarm coffee. A queasy feeling built up in her stomach. Something inside her wanted to go outside. To him. But she couldn't. Something else inside her stirred. What was it? Fear? Nervousness? A mix of the two. 

She searched for him again. 

Still there. She thought.

The two locked eyes. Her heart throbbed at the sight of his pitifully, pained expression. Like he also wanted to jump through the window and hold her close. His shoulders dropped before turning to walk away. The ache in her heart grew.

No, not this time. 

Alice leapt from the booth and rushed out the door, the bell ringing sporadically. By the time she was outside, he had already disappeared. 

Soojin… 

It had been too long since they last saw each other. How long exactly? If he had to guess, probably a few centuries. The world had changed so much in that time. But her? She was still as beautiful as ever. Her soft, tawny, deer-like face was the same as he remembered; along with those sweet baby blue doe eyes. The only thing that really changed was her hair color. The familiar soft pinks were gone, leaving her acorn brown twists with the faintest hint of blonde streaks. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡♥︎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━

He gazed at her longingly from the roof. She had already run out of the cafe and was now searching for him. His expression grew pitiful.

Here he was after who knows how many years separated from the love of his eternal life and yet, here he was on the roof like a scared cat. Scared of what though? Rejection? He couldn’t imagine her not feeling numb after the time spent apart. No, the pounding in his chest denied it. He knew better than to think differently of his love. 

His attention went back to the lost girl. Her shoulders began to shrug then she turned her back towards him. 

No. he thought. Never again.

Soojin had delayed this reunion for far too long. 

What’s the point? Alice thought sorrowfully. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡♥︎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━

As soon as she turned her back to the restaurant, she heard a familiar yet distant voice.

“Hey, Bunny.” it whispered. 

Hope hopped back into her heart.

“Jinnie?” She turned around, face to face with the man she'd yearned for. Alice could feel tears start to sting her eyes. 

“I… I’m not seeing things am I?” her voice trembled as she reached out to him. 

Soojin’s hand met hers, interlacing their fingers. His face was less gloomy and filled with life. 

Smiling, he spoke, “Last I checked, I’m real.” He pulled her into his arms. 

Despite the falling snow around them and the frosty wind, she felt scolding hot. Finally after years of separation and heartache, Soojin allowed a few tears to fall atop Alice’s head as she released all of the pent up emotion of the last few centuries on his shoulder. 

With a finger, Soojin tilted up her chin; sky blue meeting the brown earth once again. Love and eagerness filled their tears as they both went in for a long awaited kiss. Their hearts beating wildly and in-sync. 

[munson-blurbs]

TUI7

OKAY MARION, THATS IT.

Our boy is so sad, Ms. Sweetheart, make him feel better fast!!😩

Okay so now I wanna square up with Marion AND H’s mom…. Line em up!

“But where the fuck was I? On the road, thinking I could be a rockstar and take care of a family. If I had stayed back, I could’ve stopped her. I would’ve seen that she wasn’t just doing it at parties or shows; she was an addict. I could’ve gotten her help; I could’ve saved my son from being born a goddamn coke addict!” 😭😭

“Harris’s mom is an atrocious excuse for a human being, and so is Ms. Marion?” <- PREACH

“Look, I’m not saying the Cat-and-Mouse is the nicest thing to do,” he interrupts, cheeks aflame at the mere mention of it, “but I guess it really fucked with me for someone I…someone I just met…to call me stupid.” <- But boy, you were acting stupid. 😒

“Eddie flinches, but not for the reason you think. No, it’s because he hates that you’re fearful of his reaction. He hates that he’s made you afraid of him.”

At this, you giggle. “Eddie, you’re not paying me to work with my,” you lower your voice mid-protest, even though the door is closed and no one else is around, “favorite student.” <- 🥰 Like everyone doesn’t know 😏

He walked her to her car😍

He knows it’s not correct, and you watch as his shoulders begin to slump dejectedly. “I…I don’t know.” His lower lip juts out, quivering as he admits it. SWEET BABY HARRIS, EVERYTHING IS FINE!!!!😩

“It’s a princess.” His eyes flit between you and the pink poofy dress-clad cartoon. “Me an’ Daddy think you’re pretty like a princess.” Harris Munson you work that wingman magic. ✨

“No worries,” Eddie waves off your concern, scooping Harris up and resting him against his hip. “Harris can sit on my lap.” “Or I can sit on Ms. Sweetheart’s lap!” Harris squeals, wriggling out of his dad’s grasp. “Or Ms. Sweetheart can sit on your lap!”

you know damn well Mac Daddy Wayne is helping this kid try to get his dad a date. 🤣😂

Eddie helping rescue Grandma and listening to her give him the same compliment over and over. 💚

He smacks the sponge against a plate and harshly brushes it up and down, still staring at you. “Oops,” he deadpans, rinsing it and haphazardly placing it in the dishrack before picking up another one. “Oops again.” This menace of a man 😍

“I don’t usually have anyone to talk to at night, either. And with Harris–I mean, I love him to fuckin’ death, but a guy can only hear so much about the latest episode of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.” (As a nanny, I can confirm.😂) He clears his throat, but the words come out even softer somehow. “I like talking to you.” 😍🥰 I ALMOST CAN’T STAND THE CUTENESS, YOUR HONOR.

Using Harris to hand off notes!?! 😚🤌🏼

BUG!!!! These chapters some how get better and better and I have no idea how it’s possible. 😩 So much love fluff stuffed into this chapter and I love it. Absolutely adore how Eddie was about to break down and went to the one person he knew would make him feel safe. 🥺 I love this series so much!!! I obviously can’t wait for the next part but you know I will wait for however long it takes. 😂 LOVE YOU AND THIS STORY, BUG!!!💚🥰😘

B, the way I look forward to your post-chapter messages...your feedback means everything to me!

Feeling safe and vulnerability are a huge theme in this series. Both Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart have walls up, afraid to let people see their vulnerable sides, and it is super satisfying to watch them gradually bring their walls down until I ruin it again.

And, yes, Harris and Wayne are the true MVPs of this series, and I will not stand for any opposing opinions.

Love you moreeeeee!

[the-exhausted-xexandaler]

Sometimes I feel like @writing-prompt-s is making these prompts just for me. Alright here we go!

“You did what now?” Asked aloud Gregorionus, third in line to the throne of the Third Ring of Hell.

Unlike usual where Gregorionus would teach Becky in her world, Gregorionus was instead taking a day off at his families villa in the 2nd circle. It had been a long decade for everyone’s favorite demonic nanny, so he decided to take a ‘me day’ as humans call it… or so was the plan…

“I made a lot of candy pop up but then the candy turned alive and now it’s eating all the neighborhood cats help!!!” Exclaimed Becky from the other end of the bound mirror Gregorionus set up in her bathroom disguised as the bathroom vanity mirror.

Gregorionus was confused. Interested that Becky yet again has broken the common sense of the demon realm, but still confused as to how. “Okay… now run by me how you made living carnivorous candy.”

“Ummm… I used a summon spell to summon candy but then it just kept giving me one candy at a time so I thought ‘hang on couldn’t I use a dopl charm to make it summon more’ and it did kinda but then the candy didn’t taste very good because it was actually making the same candy a lot so I tried to use a fresh seal on it and that was good but then the candy tasted too minty and I don’t like minty so I wanted to give it some kick so I added a jalapeño to the sacrifices and then boom! Multiplying candy that is spicy and eats cats.”

Gregorionus removed his comically small glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay… Can you run that by me again because I feel like my brain shut down from the overwhelming amount of rediculous there.”

“I’m not saying modern science isn’t useful for magic. I’m saying you’re focusing too much on what’s ‘physically possible’ and it’s preventing you from casting some very useful spells.”

[annaholak]

Wyrd Sisters Abroad

For this year's inktober I'm reimagining the three Lancre coven members, from Sir Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, as modern day witches (and sending them on a trip to America).

So let me introduce you to:

Gytha "Nanny" Ogg (canon version)

Gytha is the optimist of the coven. She has buried three husbands (and that’s just the official count), she has fifteen children, innumerable grandchildren, an evil cat named Greebo, and only one tooth. She likes smoking her pipe, eating, drinking, playing her banjo while taking her bath, and singing (mostly “the Hedgehog Song” and “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”). She always checks under her bed before going to sleep in the hope that there might be a man hiding under it (you never know…).

And:

the reimagined Gytha "Nanny" Ogg

Don't let her pink velour tracksuit fool you; she’s not one of the working out types of octogenarians (in fact she doesn’t do anything tiring if she can help it) - but she does like to be comfy (and maybe a little bit sexy - though she probably wouldn’t admit that). Her sneakers were chosen by one of her many grandchildren and “they’re red because Nana likes red and they have stars on them because Nana is MAGIC!”. Her witch’s hat has a red ribbon on it because she does indeed like red. Not pictured is her foul-tempered, evil-smelling, one-eyed cat Greebo whom, despite all evidence to the contrary, Nanny considers to be a sweet, harmless kitten.

Esmerelda (Esme) "Granny" Weatherwax (canon left, reimagined right)

Esme is the most intimidating of the coven. She is very confident in her abilities. When she says that something is impossible she usually means “for anyone except herself”. Accordingly she is not a good loser (she hasn’t had much practice); from her point of view, losing is something that happens to other people. She’s never scared of walking through a dark forest because she knows that the most terrifying thing in it is herself. Her implicit belief that everything should get out of her way extends to other witches, very tall trees and, on occasion, mountains. Despite being an extremely powerful witch, she prefers to use headology instead of actual magic whenever possible; she is a firm believer in giving people what they need, not what they want. She is Good and she is Right, but she's not Nice. She is feared and respected, but generally not liked.

In canon she is the most "traditionally" dressed of the three Lancre witches: all black, simple dress, sturdy boots, tall witch's hat fastened to her tight bun with hatpins, and the occasional vest. Her goal is to look as much of a witch (and as intimidating) as possible.

In the reimagined version she is still dressed in all black but I opted for a different kind of intimidating-older-woman style: the ageing punk rock virgin with the evil stare.

And last but not least:

Magrat Garlick (canon version)

Magrat's name is an accident; her mother wanted to name her Margaret, but didn't know how to spell it. She is the youngest member of the Lancre coven, and the least confident in her magical abilities (probably the reason why she rarely wears her witch’s hat - instead she prefers to wear glamorous green dresses that would suit more curvy figures than hers, and slightly wilted flower crowns on her unruly hair). She also has a huge collection of occult jewellery, is a vegetarian, and believes in folk songs and the Cycles of Nature. She is the most bookish of the three witches and an excellent herbalist - something even Granny Weatherwax (who usually calls her a “wet hen”) reluctantly admits. In “Witches Abroad” she inherits a Fairy Godmother wand, but is unable to master it; the only effect she is able to produce with it is turning things into pumpkins.

And:

the reimagined Magrat Garlick

As a vegetarian on a quest to save Mother Earth, she wears clothes made of natural fibers, vegan sandals, and reusable tote bags. She’s also wearing a witch’s hat (purely because I couldn’t resist the aesthetic appeal), but it’s dark green instead of the traditional black and the shortest one of the group. She still has a soft spot for crystals and magical jewellery though. She wears an ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it (she finds the soft tinkling weirdly soothing).

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny. 

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con 

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku? 

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day. 

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

[sg-marshall]

sims 4 trait legacy challenge

Overview:

This is a ten generation legacy challenge based on some characteristics people can possess. Each generation will be based upon a new trait. The style and gender of the generation is completely up to you (I usually play as women but gender does not matter in this challenge)! Complete all goals before focusing on the next generation. Some may play onto each other, so be sure to look ahead before moving forward! I created an adapted version for people who do not have the packs I used listed below the challenge. I wanted to make sure everyone could play and not feel left out!

Rules:

No cheats or mods!

Start off with $20,000 and a build a house wherever you want one.

Complete all six goals for every generation before moving onto the next one.

Complete the full aspiration and reach level 10 in the set career.

There is no rules when it comes to aging up but I suggest waiting until it is their set birthday.

Play on normal life span.

Packs Used: Base Game, Discovery University, Seasons, City Living, Get to Work, Cats and Dogs, Parenthood, Spa Day, and Knifty Knitting

Generation One: Responsibility

You are a very old fashioned person who believes things have a certain way of being done. Every object in your house has a set place, the person you marry you are supposed to stay with forever, and the world should be a clean place to live in. Never once have you strayed away from your beliefs and you’ve always lived your life by the book. Even once your partner dies and you are left with a child who cannot handle their passing, you stay true to your morals. (EDIT: I have been playing this challenge myself and found that the final level of the aspiration said “have a child master a career”. I do not know if you have to be in the household for that, but if you do, just add this generation to the household of the next one before they master it. It is also okay if you want to ignore/cheat this part.)

Traits: Neat, Good, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Education (Administrator Branch)

Goals:

Max charisma skill.

Max research and debate skill.

Be married as a young adult, but have your partner die (do not tell your child how) once they reach adult hood. Never remarry.

Have only one child with your partner.

Complete the snowglobes collection and have them set up in a specific room in your house.

Make your neighborhood green and keep it that way.

Generation Two: Determined

You’ve always struggled to cope with the death of your father/mother ever. Maybe that's because you never really knew why they died in the first place. Left with too many questions to handle, you destroy your relationship with your friends and family and run away to find some answers. This entails a trip to Sixam, where you can finally wrap ahead around the passing of you mom/dad. You decide to come home just in time to see your mom/dad just before they too pass away. After a heart-breaking conversation, you realize that all the secrecy was for the best.

Traits: Gloomy, Ambitious, Loner

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Astronaut (Interstellar Smuggler Branch)

Goals:

Max rocket science skill.

Max mischief skill.

Build a rocket ship and fly to Sixam.

Run away and live on your own as a teenager. 

Have a horrible relationship with your mom/dad as a young adult, but become best friends with them before they pass away.

Complete the microscope prints collection.

Generation Three: Loving

Your mother/father was extremely distant growing up, which caused you to rely on friends as your family. Your childhood best friend has been with you every step of the way, and you ended up fell in love with them. All you wanted to do was be a mother/father, but found out you could never have children. You adopt a child as a baby and raise them as your own, teaching them everything you wish your parents did for you.

Traits: Romantic, Family - Oriented, Foodie

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Babysitter (Teenager), None (Young Adult and older)

Goals:

Max parenting skill.

Max wellness skill.

Marry your childhood best friend.

Adopt a baby after you get married.

Teach your toddler to max all skills.

Have a side passion of knitting.

Generation Four: Intelligence

You grew up incredibly smart with no knowledge of who your real parents were. However, that never mattered to you. Your adoptive parents have made it their life goal to advance your gifts in every way they know how. Late nights of helping you with homework, early mornings of finishing projects, and spending their fortunes to enroll you into the college of your dreams. All you wanted to do was repay them by becoming a world renowned journalist. You dedicate your best-sellers to them because, after all, they’ll always be your biggest fan.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Unflirty

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Writer (Journalist Branch)

Goals:

Max logic skill.

Max writing skill. 

Reach level eight in five other skills of your choice.

Go to the University of  Britechester and study Language and Literature (distinguished).

Join the Debate Guild and reach the highest rank.

Write five novels.

Generation Five: Hard - Working

Fashion has been your passion since you were a little girl/boy. You even asked your parents to stop dressing you as a toddler because the clothes they picked were “not stylish enough.” As a self-proclaimed style icon, you knew you had to make your biggest dream come true: to create your own fashion line. So, as soon as you graduated high school, you packed your bags and moved to the big city - San-Myshuno. There you created your social media platform and blew up! A normal life was never your style, and you made sure to put in as many hours as it would take to achieve all you ever wanted.

Traits: Perfectionist, Self - Assured, Materialistic

Aspiration: City Native

Career: Style Influencer (Stylist Branch)

Goals:

Max photography skill.

Max painting skill.

Must live in San-Myshuno.

Complete the crystals collection.

Hire a nanny for your child and do not spend much time with them.

Gain 10,000 followers on Simstagram.

Generation Six: Resilience

After being known as “the child of the most famous fashion designer” all your life, the city became a toxic place for you. You hated the loud noises, constant stream of people, and just wanted to live a quiet life. You loved visiting your grandmother/father’s house and hearing one of her/his famous stories. You decided to pull inspiration from one of their novels and live off by the coast in the adorable Brindleton Bay. Your passion for crafting and living off the land inspired you to start a small business selling your candles and juice - all locally grown of course. 

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Creative

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelancer (Simply Crafted)

Goals:

Max fabrication skill.

Reach level eight in both candle making and juice fizzing.

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult.

Have four or more kids.

Complete the frog collection.

Never go to an event in the city or visit the city once you are a young adult.

Generation Seven: Carefree

Being in a big family is can be hectic at times. So, you decided to be the happy jokester in the middle just trying to get people to crack a smile. And you got really good at it. As a major people person, you made sure to get to know everyone you meet. You even started a tradition of taking a picture with them so you could never forget that moment. Your friends will always invite you to go out because you are known for being the life of the party. However, the parties you host, are even better. You decide to live life as if it was one big stage, and you’re the star performer.

Traits: Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch)

Goals:

Max comedy skill.

Max singing skill.

Host a party every week.

Take a photo of every person who visits you.

Marry someone you met just two days before.

Attend every festival or event you are asked to attend.

Generation Eight: Kind

Expected to be just like your mother/father, no one ever assumed you would be the quiet kid who preferred reading over partied. However, that is exactly who you were. When it was that time of the week for a new social event, you either left for the library or locked yourself in your room, praying it ended soon. Your parents noticed you struggled talking to people, so they allowed you to adopt a puppy once you became a teenager. You and your dog instantly became best friends and you took them everywhere. Even though you may not be great with people, being compassionate was a skill you ranked high in. You always looked out for the less fortunate and wanted to provide in anyway you could.

Traits: Vegetarian, Loner, Good

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Career: Gardner (Floral Designer Branch)

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Max flower arranging skill.

Keep up a garden of just flowers.

Adopt strays: one dog, and two cats.

Marry an ambitious sim.

Donate $100 to charity weekly.

Generation Nine: Impulsive

You grew up hearing stories of your grandmother/father’s so called “wild days” and fell in love with the energy it brought. However, your mom/dad raised you better than to go out spending life as if there was no consequences. Finding a balance started off to be very challenging for you. You could never hold down relationships and even got pregnant/got someone pregnant twice. It wasn't until you became a secret agent and learned how to live two lifestyles: one full of fun and adventure; the other more stable and structured.

Traits: Active, Non-Committal, Bro

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent Branch)

Goals:

Max fitness skill.

Max handiness skill.

Go to either college for Psychology and play soccer.

Have four failed relationships and never get married.

Have two children from two different relationships.

Move three times once you become a young adult.

Generation 10: Passionate

Because your mother/father’s job required you to move around so much, making real life friends was a lot harder than it seemed. So, you built your relationships within the online community. Every day, you and your closest friends would hop online and compete in tournaments or even play for fun. As the years went on, you became really good at coding and even started working on your own apps. You looked up to the players from ESports Gaming - only the best gamers in the world - and longed to be sitting in one of their spots. And sure enough, after years of perfecting your strategies and game plays, your dreams came true!

Traits: Geek, Hot-Headed, Outgoing

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru (ESport Gamer Branch)

Goals:

Max programming skill.

Max video gaming skill.

Complete the MySims Trophies collection.

Attend and compete in every Geek Con convention.

Make five video games or apps.

Mentor your child/ren for five hours each.

Adaptations:

Gen 1:

If you do not have Discover University, go into the Business career (Management Branch).

Max cooking skill if you do not have Discover University.

If you do not have City Living, complete the postcards collection.

Gen 2:

Unlock the secret world in Oasis Springs if you do not have Get to Work.

Gen 3:

If you do not have Parenthood but do have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Parenthood and Get to Work, max the gourmet cooking skill.

If you do not have Spa Day but do have Knifty Knitting, max the knitting skill.

If you do not have both Spa Day or Knifty Knitting, max the photography skill.

If you do not have Knifty Knitting, have a side passion of photography.

Gen 4:

If you do not have Discover University, read a new skill book every week instead of attending university.

Gen 5:

If you do not have City Living, have the  Fabulously Wealthy aspiration.

If you do not have City Living, live in Oasis Springs.

Gen 6:

Do not have a career if you do not have Eco-Lifestyle. Instead, craft item on the woodworking for money.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, max the fishing skill instead of reaching level eight in candle making and juice fizzing.

If you do not have Cats and Dogs, move to Evergreen Harbor.

If you do not have both Cats and Dogs or Eco-Lifestyle, live in Willow Creek

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the self-assured trait instead.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the Angling Ace aspiration.

Gen 7:

If you do not have City Living but do have Get Together, max the dancing skill.

If you do not have both City Living or Get Together, max the mixology skill.

Gen 8:

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, have the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Do not have a career if you do not have Seasons. Instead, sell your plants for money.

If you do not have Seasons but have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Seasons or Get to Work, max the violin skill.

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, but have Seasons, own three bees nests and two insect nests instead of owning pets.

If you do not have both Dogs and Cats or Seasons, have three children instead of having three pets.

If you do not have City Living, have the cheerful trait.

Gen 9:

If you do have Strangerville, go into the Military Career (I do not have it, so I played as a Secret Agent)

If you do have Snowy Escape, have the adventurous trait instead of the active trait (I do not have it but believe they would be adventurous).

If you do not have Discover University, read five skill books over different topics, instead of going to college.

Gen 10:

If you do not have City Living, compete in an online tournament weekly instead of going to Geek Con.

[deathwishy]

×Childhood Friends×

Marinette never forgot the boy with steel eyes and silver tongue.

They met when she was ten. Her parents were hired to do the catering at a party, one to celebrate the opening of the Parisian branch of Wayne Enterprises. Of course the Drakes would be there. They too were planning to expand Drake Industries to Europe, and while it would have been best to be the first ones in Paris, it could still be beneficial.

Tim was twelve at the time, and already knew who Batman was. His parents left him alone most of the time so he had plenty of opportunities to analyze and admire the vigilantes at night. The days were filled with tutors coming and going, a nosy nanny and tons of homework to be done. Thankfully, Batman didn't usually come out in the light of day. He didn't actively try to figure out their identities most of the time, but when he saw the first Robin executing a complicated maneuver, that could be done by only a handful of people, the pieces fell into place. But he kept quiet. He erased every piece of evidence he collected, paper and online data, anything that could lead someone else to the same conclusion.

Marinette was sitting with her parents in the kitchen, sometimes helping her papa with arranging sweets on plates or bringing them to the guests. She liked helping her parents when she could.

Marinette met Tim in the garden of the hotel. He excused himself from his parents to go take photos of the Eiffel Tower, that was close to where the party was. Marinette got out to take a breath of fresh air, the kitchen was hot and her parents didn't need help at the moment.

She noticed him sitting on a bench, looking at his camera.

"<Good evening!>" She greeted him in French.

He was startled, almost dropping his camera.

"<I'm so sorry! I thought you heard me coming.>"

It took a few seconds for Tim to adjust his eyes from the light of the camera display to the darkness of the garden. There was a girl, of mixed descent, in a simple bubblegum pink dress. Her hair was as midnight black, long and tied in pigtails. He gave her a little smile.

"<Not a problem. I was just setting my camera, it needs to be adjusted to capture the lights of the tower better.>" He tried to hide his American accent, but he knew she still caught it.

"You're American, yes? If you'd like, I can speak English too. Mama said it's good to know something else other than French. I would like to practice as well."

Her English was good. Riddled with a thick French accent but still understandable. He nodded and patted the bench, signaling that she could stay too. She sat down with a bright smile. She extended her hand.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Timothy Drake. But you can call me Tim."

And so they met. They shared their art interests, his love for photography, her love for drawing. She mentioned her growing interest in fashion and he shared his love for IT. They were so different yet so alike. She was form a middle class family of bakers, that loved her with all they had, he was from a rich family, had all he could have ever wanted, except for the love of his parents. But he didn't mention that.

She was entranced by his fervor when talking about his local heroes, or vigilantes, as he called them, and found that she could listen to him all night. He found that he could talk to her just as long, easily, as he could never before. He was happy to bring that sparkle of interest in her eyes.

But the bubble of happiness was soon burst by one Janet Drake.

Tim knew he was in trouble. Others couldn't see the fire behind her gray eyes, only Tim could. He shot up from the bench, startling Marinette in the process.

"Timothy. We have to go." Marinette shivered under her cold gaze, even if it wasn't directed to her. But what mother could look at her own son like that?

"Good evening, Madame." Marinette tried, but soon stepped back, almost cowering under the woman's gaze. Even if it was only for a second.

"Now."

She made one motion with her head, turning on her heels, and heading back into the building. Tim only waved and soon disappeared with his mother. Marinette didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. But she felt like it wasn't the last time she would see Timothy Drake.

                                                        ...

The next time they met, he was Robin. She was Ladybug. She was thirteen, he was fifteen. They didn't know who each other was. Being in Paris brought a longing in Tim's heart for a lost friend, but he knew he couldn't search for the pigtailed girl. Marinette felt her heart ache, missing the American boy she once befriended.

Batman came to Paris shortly after Stoneheart. After speaking to Diana, she granted her passage into Paris along with Robin and Batman to try assess the situation and develop a battle plan.

They set the meeting in the outskirts of Paris, in a abandoned building to try and hide the presence of the Justice League and keep their involvement a secret. They didn't need Hawkmoth on watch 24/7 after an angry superhero he could akumatize.

Ladybug swung through a broken window, Chat Noir jumping through moments after. They both landed at the same time, in front of the American heroes.

"Ladybug, Black Cat, it's an honor to meet the new wielders." Wonder Woman greeted with a slight bow. Robin followed suit, even if a little wobbly. Batman only bowed his head.

"There is no need for that," Ladybug blushed, bowing in return. "We haven't done any heroic feats worthy of such respect yet."

"Being chosen is always a reason to pride with, Ladybug. And the defeat of Stoneheart is quite remarkable for someone as young as yourself."

Batman frowned. Just how young were they?

"My lady is always modest. She doesn't believe me when I say she's incredible."

Ladybug rolls her eyes and punches Chat, making him giggle. Robin was eyeing him, scrutinizing every aspect. He had an extensible staff, like his, but obviously magic. His fighting style would match the Bats better, and Ladybug's yo-yo was very much like Wonder Woman's lasso. They already knew she would go to Themiscyra to train with Hippolyta but a bit of the Bats teachings would not hurt.

"As you know, miraculous magic protects our identities. It's the same thing for Hawkmoth. It will be hard to find and figure him out, unless we have irrefutable evidence." Ladybug began, opening her yo-yo.

"What we know so far is that he wants our miraculous, the Ladybug and the Black Cat. Our Kwami said that by merging the two, the wielder is granted a potentially reality altering wish. Unfortunately for now, that's all the information we have on him. It's going to take some time."

Through all her explanation, Batman was already thinking. They couldn't stay in Paris, even if the chance was small, they could be akumatized, that wasn't a viable option. Even an akumatized Robin would be a major problem. He had two years of training, the new heroes had almost none. He could see that Chat Noir had some, maybe fencing or swordplay by his posture and slight gestures. The girl maybe had some light self defense training. Maybe gymnastics recently.

"Ladybug shall come at times to Themiscyra to train with the Amazons, Chat Noir, you will go with the Bat."

Chat Noir began fidgeting.

"Um, my home life doesn't allow me to introduce intense training into my schedule. The best I can do is go out at night. My d... My parents don't know about this and with my obligations I can't just leave."

Robin, no, Tim knew as soon as Chat Noir opened his mouth. In that moment, he could see himself in the leather clad superhero. The controlling parents that had such high expectations of him, the suppressing nature that made him not even dare question their word. He was going to say that his dad doesn't know about it. So either his mother knows, which is unlikely, or he only has his father.

Tim was almost sure that Bruce came to the same conclusion. It would have been harder for someone that didn't personally know but he was the world's greatest detective for a reason. Batman nodded.

"Actually it is best if we do it at night. Maybe there will be less of a chance for someone to get akumatized. But not much, you still need sleep."

Chat Noir nodded vigorously, now smiling.

After going over some details regarding the training, the two teams went on their ways.

Chat Noir, happy that someone understood and actually made a compromise that worked for him too.

Ladybug, with a heavy heart, thinking about the battles ahead. And maybe about a certain boy.

Batman and Wonder Woman, both trying to not burn down every building in Paris in search of Hawkmoth.

Robin, with sorrow in his heart, for the boy that is like he once was, for the girl that was so close yet so far, for two kids that had to fight the battles of adults.

                                                         ...

This time, they met as Robin and Marinette.

It was in the same year, only a few months later. Robin was perched on a rooftop, waiting for Batman to finish the training session with Chat Noir. They had to zeta tube back to Gotham that night to go on patrol with the rest. There was an unusual rise in criminal activity and they needed all hands on deck.

"Mister Robin, sir!" there was an almost whisper from a balcony on the building next to the one he was sitting in. One on top of a bakery. There was someone there. They looked around and then signaled with their hand to come over.

There was a girl there, one that he recognized almost immediately. She didn't have the same long hair, but it was still tied in pigtails. She was taller and her voice changed a bit but he knew it was her. The girl from the garden, Marinette. He leveled his breath and jumped the narrow gap between the buildings on her balcony, on a shadowed portion.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, checking out the surroundings at the same time.

"No, sir, I just wanted to give you something." She reached to the table and pulled up two boxes. They looked like pastry boxes.

"I don't think people are supposed to know about you being here but I saw you a few times already. I don't know if anyone else did, I didn't ask around and haven't heard anything, but I wanted to thank you for helping Ladybug and Chat Noir, assuming that's what you're doing, so I made some pastries as a 'Thank you'. And, ah, again, thank you. I know that maybe things in Gotham can get pretty hectic and you are coming here too so, ah, I thought these can help, even if a little bit."

Robin listened through her rambling. She got flustered and started fidgeting midway through so he took the boxes from her hands when she stopped to breathe.

"Thank you, that is very considerate. We prefer to not make our involvement in Paris known so it would be appreciated if you still kept quiet."

She nods, smiling, then adds. "I sometimes leave some out here for our heroes too. Feel free to pass by anytime."

He gives her a little smile, then cups his ear when his com comes to life.

'Robin, rendezvous point. I'll be there in 5.'

"I have to go now. It was nice meeting you."

She takes a step back, he pulls out his grappling gun, boxes secured at his chest, and with small waves, he leaves the balcony.

                                                            ...

When they came across each other again, it was a year later. He was Timothy Drake. She was Ladybug.

He started working at Wayne Enterprises with his father. The parisian branch had some odd numbers so they came to Paris as Tim and Bruce to investigate, but didn't go out as Batman and Robin. Unlike Ladybug and Chat Noir, they didn't have magic to protect their identities. Unless there was an emergency, they would lay low.

Then there was an akuma attack.

They were walking to the hotel when Dark Cupid attacked them. He only shot Bruce. Ladybug took him out of his way when he froze in place, shocked by his father's sudden hatred.

"Are you alright?" The heroine asked him when she saw that he didn't move. He was still thinking. "Don't listen what he said. Dark Cupid's power is to transform love into hate. There was nothing real about those words, trust me." She pulled him into a hug when she saw tears rolling on his cheeks. He embraced her back, for a few seconds, the pulled away.

"Go and kick his ass."

She grinned, made a salute, then threw her yo-yo, going full speed towards the akuma.

She swung with a new vigor, recognizing her old friend. She was happy to see him again, even if only for a little bit.

Even though he knows that Bruce didn't mean what he said, it still stung a bit. He didn't remember what he said or did after the cure was cast and Tim didn't want to tell him. But Bruce still knew that is hurt him.

                                                          ...

When Hawkmoth was finally defeated she was 18. She decided to join Batman in Gotham. The balance had to be restored in the city that drowned in chaos and destruction. A year later, at the beginning of her first year of university, they met again.

It was in a nice coffee shop, not far away from the campus. She waited in line with Adrien, who was rambling about a blue eyed boy he met when he was in Metropolis with Chloe for an interview with Lois Lane.

The bell at the door rings and sort of by instinct she looks over. Two boys enter. Both black haired, one with blue eyes, one with green.

When they make eye contact, she knows that he recognized her too. She smiles and waves. He does too, now coming towards her. Adrien leans towards her, whispering. The other green eyed boy does the same to his brother.

"Who is he?"

"Who is she?"

They both smile, eyes locked on each other.

"A childhood friend."

Some fluff, some angst, a lil' bit of everything. I'm not good at writing outright romance but I'm a sucker for friends to lovers. And Adrien sugar is my jam. He is a smoll cinnamon roll that needs to be protected.

Do comment, constructive criticism is always welcome.

@timari-month-event

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

Cast Interviews From 1986 vs. 2016

So, I’ve found a podcast that’s been interviewing various Cats cast members and superfans. Most of the interviews come from the cast of the Broadway Revival, but there are also several interviews from US Tour III which went from 1986 to 1988. So we’ve got a bit of both old and new. Here’s what I’ve learned about how things have changed over the years and why the Broadway Revival is such a confused mess:

In the interviews of US Tour III cast members, it seemed like everyone was told the story of the play and had a pretty clear idea of what was going on. Some actors were given backstories for their characters, but the amount of detail varied. Actors cast as Munkustrap and Tugger were told that their characters were brothers and the sons of Old Deuteronomy. Actors cast as Demeter were given a full backstory for the character. However, Grizabella’s story remained vague. Bombalurina, Mistoffelees, and Sillabub also had no confirmed backstories, and most of their characters were improvised during rehearsals. Also, since this tour was from 1986-1988, a lot of cast members don’t remember a lot of what they were told. It’s been a while.

Out of the backstory and character information provided, Demeter’s was the most consistent. She was kidnapped by Macavity, escaping shortly before the events of the play. She’s an outsider to the tribe, but she knows Bombalurina and stays close to her. Bombalurina also had some experience with Macavity, but she enjoyed it more than Demeter did. This lines up with what Jacob Brent said about Demeter in the 1998 version.

Some character dynamics are different from more modern versions. Alonzo is Demeter’s love interest, as was typical with Broadway-based productions. Also, in most productions, Alonzo doesn’t get along with Tugger, but he’s a fan of him in this version.

Outside of Alonzo, it was made perfectly clear that Mistoffelees was played as a full adult, the same age as Munkustrap. The actor who played him throughout the tour, Randy Slovacek seemed to have made up most of Misto’s characterization in that production by himself. Misto was friends with Grizabella in the past and wasn’t upset by whatever she did to upset the others. When she first appears, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, taking the place of Coricopat and Tantomile, who were cut for the tour, run up to her and try to chase her away. Misto calls them off, but Munkustrap won’t let him do anything else to help her and he respects his authority too much to try anything.

The interviews of the Broadway Revival cast tell a very different story of what was going on behind the scenes. Apparently, they were rushed for time and there weren’t as many rehearsals before the show as there usually are. That, combined with the new choreography meant that nobody really knew what they were doing. Munkustrap and Tugger were confirmed to be siblings, but very little backstory information was given outside of that. The few cast members who worked with Gillian Lynne seemed to have a better idea of what was going on with their characters. Andy Blankenbuehler was still figuring things out and wasn’t able to offer similar clarity. The few times anyone was told anything, it was usually by Trevor Nunn.

Basically, Nunn and Lynne invented Cats, and nobody else seems to know how the fuck any of it works.

Tyler Hanes and Sara Jean Ford knew each other before being cast and they came up with a lot of backstory for their characters, which everyone else got drawn into. Ford played Jellylorum as the same age as Tugger. Since the actors are best friends, so are the characters, even though that makes little sense with their personalities. Jennyanydots, Bombalurina, Demeter, and Grizabella were in that same age range as well. It appears that nobody was anywhere between Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy in age, for some reason. Jenny and Skimble are a couple in this version, so Skimble’s probably also in this group. They have kittens together. Electra and Rumpleteazer are among them, though nothing was said about Mungojerrie. The merge with Coricopat and Tantomile in the US Tour implies that they’re twins in that version. In the Broadway Revival and the tour based on it, they’re apparently unrelated.

Grizabella ended up with a far more detailed backstory, all made up by the cast. She’s Jellylorum’s sister and she stole a man away from her and Jelly never loved again. None of the kittens are Jelly’s, though she’s sort of the nanny to all of them. Griz also had some sort of affair with Tugger and broke his heart, which is why he doesn’t do commitment. Then, Griz ran off with Macavity, got dumped for Bombalurina, and then she got dumped for Demeter who decided that Macavity was bad news pretty early on and ditched him. The relationship was abusive, but no one mentioned a kidnapping. After leaving Macavity, Griz was no longer welcome in the tribe, even though Bomba and Demeter were because Reasons. Forgetting that these characters are not human, she then got addicted to drugs, was driven to prostitution to support her drug habit, had a bunch of kids, and then left those kids to be raised by Jenny, who resents her for it. Nobody says which kittens are Grizabella’s. Portions of this backstory were used in the 2019 movie.

Also, I can say that some of the characterization issues with Tugger were, in fact, a direct result of the choreography changes. Tyler Hanes wanted to play up the sexuality of the character in a way that the new choreography didn’t allow. If Gillian Lynne’s choreography had been used for the number, Tugger’s characterization probably would’ve turned out very different, but the changes meant that what Hanes knew about the character, and how the audience perceived the character, were altered by the new choreography putting emphasis on vanity instead of sexuality.

So, that’s the story so far. Compared to at least one early production, the Broadway Revival was rushed and poorly thought out. The actors were given little information and left to fend for themselves, and they prioritized their bonds with their irl friends over what made sense for their characters. Interviews of cast members from both the revival and the following tour reference Andy Blankenbuehler as the one who had all the information, who the cast looked to for instructions. But, he had no idea what he was doing and couldn’t really help them.

Most of the problems can be traced to Blankenbuehler not knowing what he was doing and never really figuring it out. Though, some blame has to be placed on the cast who, left to their own devices, had a lot of bad ideas. Hanes and Ford in particular, though it was good that someone was trying to take charge, created a bit of a mess. None of Jellylorum’s character resembles any other Jellylorum characterization I’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t even come across clearly on stage. The young cast all seemed to struggle with the idea of playing older characters and nobody told them that they couldn’t age them down. The generation gap between Tugger and Jenny and Jelly is character information that’s now completely lost on the audience. You need older characters disapproving of Tugger to show that he’s a controversial figure to the tribe, not just an annoyance to Munkustrap.

But, some of the worst characterization problems were not entirely the fault of the cast. As I mentioned before, Tugger’s characterization was changed by the choreography. Grizabella had already been aged down by her redesign. Since Demeter’s kidnapping backstory wasn’t explained, this affected how Demeter was portrayed. Her sympathy for Grizabella came from having been on that side of town as Macavity’s prisoner and seeing the condition she was in. Without that backstory, Kim Faure may have not known that Demeter was supposed to have sympathy for Grizabella and interpreted her part differently. This was the result of unclear direction.

What We’ve Learned Today:

1. In the 1980s, Mistoffelees was, in fact, played as older than Jacob Brent played him in the VHS.

2. Munkustrap and Tugger (and not Mistoffelees) have pretty much always been the sons of Old Deuteronomy.

3. The backstory Jacob Brent gave for Demeter was the standard backstory for the character well before the VHS was filmed.

4. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were considered twins in the 1980s and most likely continued to be seen as such until the revival era, though I haven’t exactly checked in with every single production.

5. The Broadway Revival was a behind the scenes and nightmare and it’s mostly Blankenbuehler’s fault.

6. Gillian Lynne wrote Cats. Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote a concept album.

7. There are no middle-aged cats in the 2016 revival. I think Sara Jean Ford started it.

8. The idea that Grizabella’s backstory involved Macavity started with the 2016 cast improvising.

9. Kim Faure’s Demeter was most likely OOC due to a removal or lack of explanation of backstory.

10. Sometimes it’s okay to do things the same way they’ve been done before.

[corvus--rex]

The first part of this is already on Ao3 as part of Julance 2021, and I wanted to throw it up here with the second (unfinished) part of the chapter. It's sleeping for now, but I really want to come back to it. If you've read the first part on Ao3, I said that Keith's a little dark at first, but that he has his reasons - those reasons come in in his part. It is an Omegaverse, with Alpha Lance and Omega Keith. As usual, please feel free to skip it if it's not your thing :)

~*~*~*~

Part 1: Sharpshooter

Unilu was an old neighborhood. One that didn’t care where you came from or where you were going. Didn’t care about dynamics. Didn’t care about where your money came from. The density of the buildings made the area dark even in the middle of the day. The stories said that Altea had been a beautiful city, light and free. That was impossible to see anymore. Daibazaal Industries had taken over long ago, running the nanny-state government from boardrooms.

This was the world Lance McClain navigated through on his way to a bar called Baku’s Den. He was supposed to be meeting up with Florona, a girl he’d been put in contact with. She had connections to a job he was interested in. Omega trafficking wasn’t an uncommon practice, but it was usually female Omegas that were targeted. Some bullshit about delicate beauty and submission he didn’t believe in. Lance’s mother was an Omega, wherever she was. He hoped she was safe; he hadn’t seen her in 8 years. But this trafficking ring was pretty new, and dealing exclusively in male Omegas. Lance had a feeling he knew why.

The Daibazaal state had mandated sterilization for all Betas and some female Omegas. Male Omegas were safe from the invasive procedure. The official reason was that there was a population issue and the city was over-crowded, and that, although unfortunate, it was necessary for even resource distribution, and the statistics showed that male Omegas were far less likely to have children. It was total bullshit. The birth rate had been dropping steadily for years. Some once-thriving neighborhoods had become ghost towns. The only reason a place like Unilu was still holding on was because they looked the other way on most things, becoming a haven of sorts for people like Lance. The Alpha had always had an innate talent for firearms of all types. It was a talent he’d honed into a finely-sharpened skill. One that he used to chip away at Daibazaal and the atrocities they allowed to go unaddressed, like this trafficking ring.

He’d left his hoverbike a few blocks away, making his way to Baku’s Den on foot. He stiffened when he caught the scent of someone coming up beside him, but relaxed when he realized he knew the Beta. It was another runner who went by Rolo. Lance and Rolo had first met when Rolo and his girlfriend Nyma took off with Lance’s hoverbike. He’d gotten it back from the Beta pair and their cyber-terrier Beezer, and they’d eventually become friends of a sort.

Rolo casually sauntered up beside the Alpha. “So, where ya headed?” he asked.

“Just drinks with a girl,” Lance answered. Meeting a contact,was the translation.

The Beta understood. “She pretty?” One of your usual contacts?

“Don’t know. Blind date a friend set up.” No, but I trust the one who set up the meeting.

“Well, good luck with that. Never can tell with some girls. Gimme a call if you need an excuse.” Watch your back. Call if you need backup.

Lance chuckled at the surface sentiment. “Sure. Thanks, man.” Will do.

“Well, I better take Beezer for a walk. Gettin’ late.” Doing a hacking run tonight, but I’ll be nearby.

“Have fun with that. Watch out for any stray cats.” Good luck. Keep an eye out for security bots.

“Eh, they’re easy to scare off.” I can get around them.

By then, they’d reached the block Baku’s Den was on. Lance nodded toward it, Rolo understanding that this was where his meeting was taking place. They parted ways, Lance headed for the bar, and Rolo disappeared around the corner. The sign hologram on the dark grey concrete building sat over the heavy steel door. The sign read Baku’s Den in a stylized typeface with a three-jawed serpent weaving through the letters. The serpent flew – swam? – through the bar’s name on a continual loop, executing a barrel roll around the name every third loop.

The interior looked very much like most other bars Lance had been to, whether meeting fixers or just relaxing. A dark concrete floor was easy to clean (and hide ingrained blood stains) after the inevitable bar fights. Dim lighting was both a blessing and a curse since it kept things more intimate, but it was also harder to spot a weapon. Booths were the same way. Made things more private, but also gave someone the chance to ambush a target. Lance’s cursory sweep was more tactical than he let show. He noted all exit points, where was best for cover, who looked the most dangerous. He also spotted his contact.

Florona sat at the edge of the booth in the back corner. She had closely cut maroon hair except for a white swath down the middle that was cut longer and swept to one side. Her gloss black cybernetic eyes had no visible sclera or iris, but he knew she was looking at him. He could see her brown leather jacket with dark red accents and skin-tight burgundy pants and heavy boots. It was also a pretty safe guess that she was armed. Just as it was a near certainty that Florona wasn’t her real name.

Lance McClain certainly wasn’t his. But when he was separated from his family at 16, he left Leandro Dávila behind. He made a new identity for himself, one that let him not stand out at all, one that let him hide. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything left of Leandro in him. Leandro had been a hopeful, optimistic child. Lance was hardened by years of fighting, jaded by harsh reality. Leandro would have been afraid of Lance. It was a smart thing to be.

Some people, like Florona, wore their cybernetics for the world to see. Implants and attachments that were blatantly obvious. Rarer were those like Lance. He’d lost his eyes after a run gone wrong. The crew he was with sold him out when they thought the other side would pay better for it. They blinded him, but even without sight, he was still able to take them out and escape. He’d called his fixer, who got him help. His cybernetics looked natural, as close to his original blue as they could get. But they were fully functional cyberware. Top of the line a few years back. Night vision, infrared, zooming, even the ability to limit the amount of light received – all linked in. By blinding him, his old crew made sure he would never be blinded again. Not too long after that, he lost his left hand. That run was successful, but Lance had gotten caught in crossfire and an unlucky shot blew out his wrist, shredding tendons and splintering bone. The new one was indistinguishable from his right, the artificial skin blending seamlessly with the organic.

Lance had no choice but to slide into the booth facing away from the door, forcing him to trust Florona with his personal safety. He nodded to her, careful not to say a word until he was seated. “Florona.” It was a statement, a greeting, a question, a confirmation.

“McClain,” she returned, “Or would you prefer Sharpshooter?”

He put on the illusion of relaxing, something he never truly did. “Lance is fine,” he said casually.

Florona’s lips twitched with an amused huff. “Alright, Lance. I’m going to order us drinks while we wait,” she said, signaling to the aqua-haired waitress.

“Waiting for what?” This wasn’t what Lance was expecting, and now he was getting nervous.

“Your partner.”

“Partner? That’s news to me. What can you tell me about them?”

The waitress came over, waiting for what she was sure would be Florona’s usual order. “Nunvil,” Florona said – no surprises there. “And bring the bottle.”

Lance whistled low. “You go hard.”

Florona raised a perfect eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

“Never said I didn’t. So, what about this partner?”

She leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the booth. “Best fuckin’ swordsman I’ve ever seen. Stealth type. He’s got this one blade – let’s just say I never want to be on the wrong side of it.”

The waitress returned setting unopened bottle and a pair of glasses on the table. When she left, Florona made a show of breaking the seal on the bottle. She poured both glasses, and Lance idly played with the rim of his.

“What’s so special about this blade?” he asked. He was genuinely curious, but made sure she didn’t know that.

“Ultraviolet hard-light. Keeps it maglocked to a sheath on his back. Bio-activated so no one but him can use it. I got to see what happens when someone tried to take it once. Wasn’t pretty. New guy tried to hit on him. Pretty forcefully, but he didn’t know what he was in for.”

Interesting information. This mysterious partner of his was a known factor here. Lance wasn’t sure if Florona had mentioned that part to remind him that he was an outsider in Unilu or if she just considered it part of the story.

“I should tell you what to expect from him before he gets here. You're an Alpha, and he may take offense to that. He’s an Omega, and a lifetime of bad experiences makes him resent Alphas on sight.”

“That’s fair,” he said, and finally picked up his glass. He actually enjoyed the silky burn as it went down. “Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t piss him off. He’s not likely to actually kill you, but the threat will be there.”

“Anything else that’s not vague and threatening?” Lance asked, draining his glass.

“Mm, nope.” Florona refilled both their glasses, and Lance saw the tiniest movement of her looking to the bar. “Except that he’s coming over. Better get ready, he’s an experience.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2: Samurai

Keith stashed his heavily modified hoverbike in an alley barely a block away from Baku’s Den, activating the chameleon hologram that would keep it out of sight. He was familiar with both the Unilu neighborhood in general and Baku’s Den in particular, and knew to be cautious. It wasn’t just the relative lawlessness of the area that kept his guard up. Nowhere was truly safe for a male Omega in Altea. Not anymore, not with the disappearances that he now knew were a major Omega trafficking ring.

Knowing that the upper echelons of Altean society were buying and selling male Omegas like prized pets made his blood boil. It was assumed they were being taken as breeders, to be used to give the city’s elite heirs until their bodies gave out. But Keith had seen the kinds of things that happened to Omegas, male or female. Breeding was only part of it. He was lucky that he hadn’t been taken, but he’d freed more than a few who were in similar situations. Kidnapped or given away to Alphas, and even Betas, and abused into being the “perfect” Omega. It varied depending on the human garbage controlling the Omega. Docile, submissive servants, hypersexualized walking sex toys, psychologically broken breeding stock for their Alphas, and that was the better end. He’d seen Omegas so physically, emotionally, mentally broken that there was no saving them. Death was a welcome rest for them, but not for the abusers. He felt nothing for them as people when he put them down, only a sense of relief that they would never harm another Omega.

Keith was mainly a runner specializing in stealth and close combat. Taking out low-level Omega trafficking was what he did between runs. If working opposite Daibazaal Industries and its only subsidiary, Galra Technologies, was what amounted to Keith’s day job, his vigilante justice for trafficked and abused Omegas was his passion project. It was what made him jump at the chance to at least help bring down the biggest trafficking ring the city had ever seen. He didn’t know Florona well, but he trusted her boss Luxia, and she was the one who first had the intel for the run being offered.

The exterior of Baku’s Den was its usual façade of calm, as much as a high-class dive bar could be. Keith knew as well as anyone that a fight could break out at any time and for any reason. Just walking in made him uneasy, especially when he opened the door to a loud argument in progress between members of a runner team he’d seen there before. Almost subconsciously, his hand went toward the hard-light blade he kept sheathed on his lower back at all times. The near-fight ended with raucous laughter and a call for another round of drinks. He dropped his hand with a relieved sigh and made his way to the bar, intentionally catching Florona’s eye on the way.

“Keith! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Luxia greeted him.

“Yeah, been busy,” he answered, “Just finished another run last night. Anything I should know about this guy before I head over?”

She shrugged. “Experienced runner. Long-range firearms specialist. Got a couple cybernetics, but nothing obvious.” Luxia knew Keith’s preferred drink, and set the glass of SilveRing down in front of him, the dim lighting of the bar illuminating the juniberry-distilled, deep magenta alcohol from within and highlighting the silvery ring settled around the perimeter of the liquid surface. “Just so you know, he’s an Alpha, but I can tell he’s not just in it for the money. Don’t know what his deal is with that, but he seemed legitimately pissed at the idea of Omegas being trafficked.”

“Good to know. He’s still an Alpha.” Keith finished his drink, Luxia refilling it without a word. “Well, better head over there. Run’s more important than some Alpha.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19* | 20* | 21*