#i wish i could find some happy medium between the two

[sinclair-wax-fan]

Vincent, Post Shower

I went through the 5 stages of grief making this

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part Two

Featuring : (future) Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Amarantha is dead and you finally get to go home. Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of ruined wings and skin scarring, canon level violence, not proofread (i'll do it later), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You felt your magic return to you the day Amarantha died. It was such an ordinary day.

You were in your cabin, that Eris had found for you the moment your wings were burned. You couldn't return to the Night Court without putting yourself in danger of Amarantha finding you, so you stayed in Autumn.

You were cooking when it washed over you, feeling as if you could finally breath again. You tested your abilities, seeing how much you could do. You were able to engulf the entire room in darkness when you were satisfied it returned.

You lost hope 10 years prior, when one of the local villagers said that all of Amarantha's court was bound to Under the Mountain. That meant you wouldn't be getting anymore visits from Eris, and even in the 40 years before that, those were few and far between. You were lucky Autumn Court was on her "good" side, because she never looked too deep into the woods. From what Eris told you, Rhys had taken her to bed.

You knew Rhys, and you could guess that he did it to keep her eyes from turning towards the Night Court. Towards you. Or Velaris.

So, you lived your simple life. The cabin Eris gave you came with a horse, that you would take to and from the local village. You were able to maintain a garden. And the best thing about living in Autumn was you never had to brace a bad winter or a sweltering summer. You missed the seasons dearly, you missed Solstices and Starfalls. Most of all, you missed your family.

It still haunted you that Rhys was taking on the burden of the Night Court by himself. You wished you could be there with him.

And, the rest of your family was running Velaris. Without you. You had to wonder if Azriel and Mor ended up together, being trapped in the beautiful, romantic city all these years. You wouldn't if Azriel regretted leaving you that night. Or if he was happy you were gone.

One thing you couldn't get over, even after all these years, was that he left you. Sure, you could handle yourself, but he left you. His best friend. Even when you were young, you always wanted to be around Azriel. Once Cassian and Rhys stopped tormenting him, you were allowed to be around him. He was always the first one to show you techniques with his sword, or new flying maneuvers. But then Mor came alone, slept with Cassian, and that was it. Azriel had been pining after her since then. You weren't resentful of it until he left you the night everything went to shit. When you lost your magic and your ability to fly.

Even know, when the wind was raging in the forest, you teared up. You wish there was some way to be able to fly again. But you grew up in the Illyrian war camp with your mother and brother. You knew what destroyed tendons looked like. There was no hope. Even after Eris and his healers did everything they could to heal them as best as they could. The membrane was in tact, albeit thinner than normal, and you had full function of stretching them in and out. But, the proper strength to fly would never be resorted.

At least you had your magic back. And you waited for Eris to come find you, to placate his father enough that he had time to tell you what happened. You assumed, knowing the depletion of magic was tied to Amarantha, that she died. You really hoped that was the case. You could go home. You could see your brother. You could ignore Azriel for the rest of your life. It never even occurred to you that you could probably winnow back home. You hadn't been able to do it for a long time.

Instead of Eris bursting through the door that afternoon, it was shadows, followed by a heaving Azriel trying to catch his breath.

"(Y/N)!" Azriel exclaimed, bounding over to you. Before you had a chance to step away, he wrapped you in an embrace. One you couldn't help but melt into. You might be mad at him, but after 50 years of being apart, you were happy to see him.

You pulled away, seeing tears in Azriel's eyes as he looked you over. His eyes landed on your wings. "What did they do to you?" He asked, searching your eyes.

"After you left me that night, three of Beron's sentinels burned my wings." You said, taking a deep breath.

"I need to write a note, and then you can take me home. Is Rhys there yet?" You asked.

"I don't know, I've spent all day having my shadows look for you. I was hoping you made it to Winter... I didn't think you would still be here." He said, pausing as you started to write.

You wrote to Eris, letting him know that you would be going back to the Night Court. You also told him that you would support him if he ever needed anything. You tucked the note into an envelop and left it on the counter.

"Okay... can you winnow us?" You asked, holding out your hand.

He gazed over you again, unsaid words clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). For everything. For leaving you. For not coming to get you-"

"Azriel.. please.. take me home. And then we can talk about it." You said.

He nodded, staring at you for a few moments before he took you hand and darkness enveloped you both.

Rhys was pissed.

He may have been happy to see his family, and to tell Mor and you about how he found his mate (even if she was with Tamlin), but the instant he saw your wings, he knew something was wrong. Before even asking the rest of his family what happened, he pulled you into a room alone.

After recapping what happened Under the Mountain, and more tearful hellos, he asked you to sit down. "Tell me what happened." He said.

You looked down, taking a deep breath. "That night that Amarantha took your magic, and you closed the borders to Velaris, I got stuck in Autumn. Azriel had left to go help Mor with something. I couldn't even winnow to the Night Court borders." You told him what happened with the sentinels, how Eris found you, and then watched as Rhys settled into the quiet deathly rage.

"He did this to you?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

"No," you quickly corrected. "Eris helped me." There were tears in your eyes now. "He- Let me just tell you how it started..."

Eris brought you to a cabin on the outskirts of the Autumn borders, close to a village but far enough that no one would look for you here. He had his best healers come to help heal you, but with their lack ox experience repairing wings, they couldn't completely heal them. You back even still had scarring on it from how hot the sentinels burned through them.

When Eris couldn't stay because Amarantha sent for all High Lords and their heirs, he had a healer stay with you. Until you were back to your normal health. And then, he offered to help you get to the Night Court. Said he would personally take you to the Moonstone Palace. But he warned you how cruel Amarantha already was, and how she was taking more and more people prisoner (to be part of her "court") Under the Mountain. You chose to stay in the cabin. If you couldn't go back to Velaris, you didn't want to go to the Night Court. Not when your brother was actively trying to get Amarantha to avoid it. The return of the Lady of the Night Court would surely set her eyes towards you. And Rhys would pay the price.

Eris would visit you as often as he could. Since Autumn was on Amarantha's good side, she let Eris and his brothers out more. When he was able to step away from the Forest House, he would visit you. Bring you more supplied, new clothes, sometimes even new furniture or paint to refresh the cabin. All the while, he kept you up to date on what was happened. One day, you asked why he was helping you.

"Because I can... and it was my family's sentinels that harmed you. You had no one else around. If you were to die out here, what would I tell you brother? It would have caused an even worse relationship between us. And I'm hoping to have his support when I overthrow my father. If we can tackle Amarantha first... and.. I'm hoping one day you can counsel your brother to help me as well." He explained.

"So you're helping me for your own gain?" You asked.

"I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do... and I've grown fond of this little escape." He answered.

That's how it was until three courts tried to rebel, and Amarantha barred anyone from leaving Under the Mountain. Even Eris. You wondered why he hadn't shown up when you went into the village to grab some more food, when you overheard the rumors.

"He truly helped you? He never hurt you?" Rhys asked.

You shook your head. "No, he never hurt me. He never tried anything. He... was kind. And caring. And I owe him my life." You said, looking up at Rhys.

He nodded, thinking for a moment. He paused his pacing and looking at you dead in the eyes. "Azriel left you?" He asked, seeming to recall what you first told him.

"...Yes." You said after hesitating.

"I'm going to kill him." He growled.

Your heart skipped a beat, knowing Rhys might just well kill Azriel for putting you in harms way.

"Wait- no. Please.. go easy on him." You said.

He paused, taking a deep breath. Darkness was pooling around his ankles. You could tell he was trying to reel it in. "I'm going to beat him to a pulp."

Better than killing him, you thought. You relaxed for a moment before Rhys rushed out from the door. You chased after him to see the first blow to Azriel's face. Then to his gut. Then to his legs to knock him on the floor. All while Rhys growled out in between each punch,"You. Left. My. Sister. In. Autumn?!"

Azriel didn't even fight back.

Part Three

A/N: Another tough one... I think this will have 1 or 2 more parts... which I probably won't get to writing until Sunday or Monday night (I know, i'm sorry!) Thank you all so much for your support!

Tagging: @feiwelinchen @circe143 @sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @i-am-infinite @thestartitaness @buttermilktea11 @tele86 @yearninglustfully @bunnyredgirl

Main Masterlist

[deesea-ao3]

Thoughts regarding Fawcett City

While outlining the plan for my upcoming fic release, I eventually got to the stage where I had to start choosing which parts of canon I wanted/needed to develop. I had loads of cool ideas and headcanons I wanted to explore, but none of it could be implemented if I didn't have a solid grasp on the bigger picture, namely the setting.

Now, for DC comics, we are expected to suspend our disbelief regarding certain cities. It is established that IRL American cities are there, while also being right next to the fictional ones, and we just have to pretend like that makes sense geographically/ economically. Over the years, DC has made countless fictional cities, ranging from highly complex environments like Gotham, to placeholder set pieces like Happy Harbour.

Fawcett City tends to be in between those two extremes. Depending on the era and writers, Fawcett City is either its own wild, wacky city or some boring street in Philidelphia. I am, of course, partial to the former, but even then, a lot of the interesting aspects of the city's lore are found in reading between the lines; seeing the implications for what they are and running with it.

Fawcett City is home to the physical entrance to the Rock of Eternity, the intra-dimensional heart of ALL of planet Earth's magic. It is a prison of great evil, an archive of powerful mystic knowledge, and hosts a network of doors leading to countless other worlds. It is maintained by an undying spectre of one of Earth's greatest sorcerers and fiercly guarded by his greatest champions. Despite all this heavy lore, Fawcett has been egregiously neglected in a lot of post New 52 series and has become shockingly boring, leaving people to find interest in Golden/Silver age works.

In the early days of Shazam! Captain Marvel publication, a lot of the conflicts that occurred in the city were magical in nature, and civilian reactions were always rather nonplussed about it. A talking crocodile invasion was treated with the same amount of weight as rampaging robots, with very little upset about how the existence of magic might challenge their established worldviews. I don't think Captain Marvels first writers did this purposefully. It was more a consequence of the fact that they only had so many pages to write their story on, and comics, in general, weren't meant to be anything more than passing entertainment than deep, introspective storylines, and that's not even addressing how limiting the medium had become due to the Hay's Code.

Because of this, fans of this era are left with the impression of Fawcett City being DC's resident urban fantasy setting. A place where bipedal cartoon tigers walk around in twee green suits. A place where unicorns eat trash alongside racoons. A place where the old lady you see at bingo night is casually also the Baba Yaga. It's a delightful contrast to other DC cities like Gotham, for example. The idea of a random Midwestern American city just being extremely magic and all its citizens just being normal about it is hilarious. For writers like me, it's the perfect sandbox to explore our own interpretations of how magic works in the DCU, and I wish more people saw its appeal/potential.

I'll probably make a separate post about my own headcanons/lore regarding Fawcett later, but for now, I just wanted to ramble about it a little.

[darylsdelts]

Hi😊 I was wondering if you could write the A - Z NSFW head canons for Daryl when you feel like it? I really love how you write him!

Tysm for this anon! This is fun!

Please keep in mind that sometimes I’m in the mood for subby Daryl and sometimes the opposite so my own opinions constantly change so, aside from this… yes Daryl is also daddy.

Aftercare - in the beginning, Daryl definitely doesn’t know what to do with himself after being intimate with you. The first few times, he pulls away after without saying anything and would either head out or just make some space between you. After he realises you actually want him there and understands what he should do then he definitely holds you close to his chest, a kiss on the top of your head, tells you he enjoyed it and he loves you.

Body - favourite body part… Daryl’s a boob man. He don’t give a shit, big or small but he loves em. (Norman is the biggest fucking boob man so so is Daryl, ok?) he also loves your eyes because he finds comfort in them, being able to hold eye contact is a big thing for Daryl. That being said, he basically get separation anxiety if he hasn’t been able to play with your pussy for a while😭 (not really but you’re his first time for everything so he just can’t get enough)

Cum - hear me out, Daryl used to get scared to cum. Like it took a while for him to get used to it. He’d enjoy show good it all felt but as soon as he would get too close he’d ask you to stop, he didn’t know why but he’d get all panicky. Until one day you very gently told him you were gonna make him cum and you guided him through it. It’s not like he hadn’t jerked off before, he didn’t even understand the anxiety himself. But the first time you did make him cum, there was quite a lot and he got real shy but he enjoyed it and since then he’s a fiend for when you just use your hand. He’s not really into cumming on your face but he likes the tummy. Even though he knows he can’t, sometimes he’ll still beg to cum inside you.

Dirty secret - he secretly likes the thought of you forcing him to watch yourself get off on your own fingers, tormenting him and not letting him touch you or himself. You’d have him practically rutting into thin air as he watched your fingers work hard, wishing it was his cock.

Experience - Daryl had no experience before you, he was a virgin. He didn’t outright say that but you caught on and you eventually asked him about it, which to your surprise he didn’t get defensive about, he was more ashamed than anything. But good Lord, he used his fingers liked he’d been in training his whole life, sure he was inexperienced but it didn’t show. The only telltale sign was his premature ejaculation the first time you two messed about and also how he humps his hips against the mattress when he eats you out.

Freaky - He’s not freaky lmfao. He’s pretty vanilla, with a submissive streak. The most dominant he gets is calling you a good girl and making you suck his fingers. Other than that he’s gentle and tends to slip into a sort of submissive role.

Goofy - Daryl’s too focused to be goofy. Nothing to laugh about if his girl ain’t cumming yet. But he’s not boring, obviously, just usually too caught up in pleasure. Unlessssss… you’re overstimulating him, something he loves, then he might get a little giggly accidentally but only because he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re attacking his sensitive head.

Hair - Daryl’s hair is sparse on his chest and torso but his happy trail gets a little darker, not black though, I would say probably a medium brown colour, let’s remember he’s a blonde baby at heart. He’s got a little bit of bush going on but he trims it now and then. As for you, he couldn’t care less, he’s still gonna eat his meal 😋! If you do get the chance to shave, he’d most likely be surprised. “What’s this? Ya been shavin’? Hope ya ain’t done it fer me”. He wouldn’t want you to think you have to shave for him to find you attractive, to be honest it kinda throws him off when you’re hairless.

Intimacy - he’s a needy fucker for a cuddle. He don’t look like it but he might as well be the damn cuddle monster when it comes to you. In private of course. In public he’d just squeeze your hand and maybe kiss your forehead if no one’s looking but PDA makes him uncomfortable. That’s why he’s so touchy and clingy at home.

Jerking off - not much time for Daryl to touch himself, also, he’s with you so he might aswell just ask you to do it. However, if for any reason you’re apart, he might get a little pent up, start daydreaming about things you say to him and how you say it “such a good boy, Daryl” he’d practically fuck his hand, being so desperate for release that he’d cum way too fast. He also likes to cup his balls when he cums.

kinks - secret mommy kink secret mommy kink secret mommy kink. He didn’t know he had one but he did know that he tends to gravitate to nurturing women who make him feel comforted but he’s never found any sexual desire there until he met you. So attentive and so nurturing, you always knew what he needed… it just slipped out one time, you were straddling him whilst he was still clothed. You’d teased him all day and he was a mess, rutting against your core through his jeans, begging to be touched. He couldn’t help it when he had an accidental orgasm in his pants and moaned out “m-mommyyyy”. And boy did you hold him to that.

Location - Home. Daryl don’t take no risks! Except for when he lets you tease him under the table at meetings.

Motivation (turn ons) - you, especially if you’ve been fighting, he loves watching his girl fight. Your kindness turns him on as-well, unless someone takes advantage of it, then he’s out to kill.

No (turn offs) - roughness, he’s not into being rough with you or you being tough with him. His life’s been rough enough.

Oral - he gets whimpery when you suck his dick, he bucks his hips and whines and he fucking loves it. Almost as much as he loves to eat you out. He’d lay on his stomach, eating you out whilst simultaneously rubbing his cock against the mattress, leaving a puddle of precum.

Pace - usually a slow to medium pace, he likes making love to you but if he’s stressed or had a rough day, he’s gonna go fast. That’s the only time he’ll be overly dominant. Basically just using your body.

Quickie - as much as he thinks about it, Daryl’s not pushing you up against a tree mid-hunt. It’s dangerous and not exactly comfortable for you. The closest thing he’s gotten to a quickie is one time you teased his cock through his jeans during a group dinner and he was so close to cumming he basically dragged you to the bathroom and had you suck him off.

Stamina - less than he had in the beginning 😭 he’s 55 now, he’s still got impeccable stamina and could go for round two but not as quickly as he could at 40.

Toys - one day, you came home from a scavenge with a vibe, he was a little annoyed, saying you could’ve got more important things but you assured him that this was all you found. He assumed it was for your use only but… you held it to his frenulum and suddenly he was glad it was all you could find. You told him that if you found a dildo you could use that on him too but he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not, maybe he’d let you use your fingers before any of that… maybe.

Unfair - after all of this submissive Daryl talk, he does like seeing you flustered, he likes to tease just as much as you do, he makes it like a little competition.

Volume - he’s quiet, small grunts and whimpers unless the vibe is involved then you gotta stuff your panties in his mouth.

Wild card (random hc) - likes when you worship his body, makes him less insecure (which he very much is but shouldn’t be)

X-ray - 7 inches and thick! Tip is a pinky red and he’s uncut. His balls are heavy asf but pretty tight. 4 inches when soft and when he’s hard it stands to attention with no curve.

Yearning - tried to play it cool… still tries to play it cool but is obsessed with you.

Zzz - as soon as you’re snuggled up, he’s gone. Fucking finally, he never slept well before you.

God this took fucking ages.

[theageofsims]

These questions were asked by @memoirsofasim -- Thanks for asking me these questions/giving me these suggestions.

Originally I asked about what kind of videos I could maybe make on my Sims YouTube Channel, but I couldn't really wrap my mind around it in a way that the video wouldn't become confusing or drag on. So I decided to make a post about it instead. Anyway, here goes...

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Note: I just wanted to mention these two things below for anyone who might worry about starting to write/story-tell, before I answered the questions. And also, this goes for any Sims Game not just the Sims 4.

Write Without Fear

Remember to "Write Without Fear". What I mean by that is to develop a story based off of an idea that is your own. You can for sure look for inspiration (more on what will follow in this post), but the point is to not feel as if you have to tell a story someone else is already telling or you have to tell the story in the same way someone else is telling -- or that you must modify what you're writing in order to please someone else in fear of judgement.

Write For Yourself

Remember to always "Write For Yourself" because at the end of the day, even if someone isn't reading along to your story, you're creating something that is satisfying some part of you. It could easily be something that you wish to read yourself, but can not find it in any medium (even outside of the Sims community) and so there's no where else to turn… except to yourself.

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Question: How do I find plots for my stories?

Reality / Dreams

Reality: Everyone has access to this. Whether it's lively, depressing, or somewhere between -- reality is reality.

Dreams: Sometimes you just remember your dreams and even if you can't remember the entire thing, there's something that sticks out to you that makes you remember it long after the dream. It could be something about their physical features, something you might have remembered they said, or even the colors within your dreams.

Sims Jobs / Hobbies

Are your sims working a job that aligns with their greatest passions/hobbies or are they just working to pay their bills? It doesn't matter either way, but sometimes just knowing this small thing is enough to get you to think of what they would do in their spare time and who they would do them with. Would they become members in a club? Would they share their hobbies with their family members? Would they have any enemies that could possibly lead to competition?

Spend Time With Your Sims

I don't mean in CAS. I mean literally turn your game on and put them on Free Will -- and watch them. See what object they interact with first or which Sim in their household they interact with first. See how they respond to Sims that randomly knock on their door (welcome wagon and all that jazz). Notice their experiences -- what makes them happy, what bothers them, what makes them angry. Also take notice to their speech bubbles.

Send them out into the world. Have them interact with other Sims or just place them on a public/community lot and see who they start talking to first. From there -- take notice to the speech bubbles from both your Sim and the Sim they're talking to. Take notice to your Sims mood while in conversation (or even while they're alone).

Movies and TV -- Or Books

This one hits extremely close to my longest and on-going story because that's exactly where the main character came from -- a movie.

So much of my stories stem from some favorite character of mine or some favorite actor/actress of mine that play such and such a character in something from a million years ago or to the present day -- and everything literally in-between.

My thought when leaving them behind at the movies or after watching them in a movie at home is… how can I flesh this character out? How can I give them a better personality or extend their personality? How can I imagine what their lives are like outside of the worlds they were created in?

And there is how the story builds. One thing literally leads to another.

Consistency

If you write somewhere in a chapter that your Sim is crazy about grilled cheese sandwiches -- then that Sim is crazy about grilled cheese sandwiches. The only way they'll stop being in love with grilled cheese sandwiches is if they suddenly had something happen in their lives to make them change their opinions about it. Like they've aged up and gained the lactose intolerant trait. Now -- dairy will make your Sim terribly sick.

Remembering these little things makes your Sims differ from one another, but also allows you to flesh out their personalities and with doing that will open more opportunities.

This Sim may have loved cheese and not all dairy, but guess what? They can't have any dairy anymore. How are they going to survive? Well -- they'll have to change their lifestyle as far as what they choose to eat and with that will come the mental torment that they can't just go and eat cheese like they once used to be able to so now they're in a bad mood and they're terribly jealous of every Sim that can freely eat cheese as well as all the dairy they want…

And so they begin writing in their free time, to get all of their angry and saddened emotions down -- because it helps them with all of the mental stress.

And then they decide to publish their writings and suddenly -- the grill cheese loving Sim who wanted to open a Grill Cheese Shop is now an Award Winning Novelist instead.

Who will they meet along the way? Well -- they may very well fall in love with another Sim that may or may not be lactose intolerant. If they are they have a common ground and if they don't… there's going to be a lot of differences in food options between the two which will turn into food outings needing to be a place where there's both non-dairy and dairy items on the menu.

Make it make sense -- you know what I mean?

Consider Occult Plotlines/Characters

When it's occult stories the themes usually deal with magic and fantasy and what not so I literally just make up things out of nowhere and make them make sense because it's so easy to explain something in the name of magic or fantasy. I can add whatever I want to their lives and their houses and come up with reasons for it which then lead into storylines.

That witch down the street decided she didn't want to work a real job, so she used magic to make her dream house.

Seems like a quick-telling story, but if you start to think on it more you'll think about how she's maintaining her dream home. Clearly -- she's probably an entitled personality type and even lazy, but is she someone who wants to live alone in her dream house? Will she marry? Will she have caretakers to do the gardening and the cleaning… or will she just use magic to handle all of that because she rather be left all alone?

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Question: How do you screencap for your story?

I usually know the plot before I take the screencaps, but sometimes I don't. Usually when I don't I end up taking a lot of screencaps that end up going nowhere but being deleted or they end up just as quick edits that I randomly post on my blog because the moment where I had a storyline or a new chapter I let completely pass me by (or it came out of nowhere because I turned my game on to just gameplay and suddenly everything started unfolding whether a Sim prompted me to create more chapters or because I just had something rush to me out of a moment of total imagination).

Still -- I try to remember that I have the ability to use words to continue the story just because I may not have a screencap available -- and that's okay, too.

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Mods:

This will help if you start paying more attention to the speech bubbles I mentioned above and would like more of a variety.

Diverse Speech/Thought Bubbles: here (CurseForge | modder: Sims 4 Me/bienchen)

[invisibleraven]

You know I gotta "this is not the end, see you later my love" for Rose/Ray

(this is MoonRiver btw)

Ray Molina had never been one to give up. Being told he couldn't do something-he took that as a challenge, one he never backed down from. It's the reason he learned English, moved away from everything he knew in Puerto Rico to Los Angeles, and became a photographer.

Some would call him stubborn-but he preferred determined. Ray knew what he wanted and he went after it, no matter how foolhardy it was.

Case in point; Rose Alvarez.

He met her while she was tending bar at one club or another-Ray didn't even drink, but it was a buddy's stag night and he had come along to keep everyone safe while enjoying their drunken antics. Only he spent the entire night sitting at the bar, talking to Rose between her serving patrons.

She thought he was cute, and funny, but bit her lip when he asked for her number. "I don't really date guys I meet here."

"Give me a chance?" Ray asked, using his most disarming smile.

"One date."

Only, one date turned into over two decades of happiness, complete with a house, a yard, and two beautiful kids.

And a cancer diagnosis that knocked them all off their feet.

The prognosis was grim-they had caught it too late, the treatments weren't responding the way they wanted them to. But Ray-well he never gave up. He researched every experimental study and process that he could, natural healing, crystals, whatever it took to keep Rose here with them.

But eventually, she had to put it all to a halt-nothing was working, and she could see the strain it was putting on him.

"Ray, mi amor," Rose said, laying a frail hand on his. "It's time."

"It can't be," he replied, cradling that hand close to him. Hands that had once been so strong, able to play a sonata or compose an epic song, now so thin and barely able to hold his. "I won't let this be the end."

"This is not the end, see you later my love."

With that, she closed her eyes, and Ray felt his world break.

Then it became nothing but gray-yes he was there for Julie and Carlos, but he wondered if they blamed him-for not saving their mother, for failing Rose when she needed him most.

He wondered-was there anything he could do to fix this? Yes, Padre Lopez talked to him about Rose being in heaven, how they would be reunited in the afterlife, but that could be decades away.

Ray wanted his wife back now.

He debated mediums, and magic, and even if the story of Orpheus had any merit. But...he knew Victoria would have his hide for involving what she called voodoo, and he didn't exactly have a map to the Underworld handy.

So he did what he could-making sure Rose was remembered-setting a place for her at the table, filling the house with her pictures, her music, her favourite flowers. Vowing to never let her go.

Maybe it wasn't healthy-she had been gone almost a year and he hadn't really moved on, despite every sound bit of advice telling him he should. Even bringing her flowers on their anniversary, on Christmas, on Valentine's Day.

Yet, as time went on, he couldn't recall her voice as easily, her face didn't jump to his mind as quick as it once did. He wasn't forgetting her, no, he'd never do that. But he was healing, and letting himself accept that this was one challenge he couldn't conquer.

But it was okay-he had his kids to live for-even if Julie and Carlos weren't kids any more. Julie was a world renowned pop star, touring all over with her band, falling in love, getting married, having kids. Danny and Luna were the joys of his life, even though he burst into tears when she revealed their middle names to him. Carlos was off playing pro baseball, even if Ray wished he wasn't in Ohio so he could catch more games, but they made due with weekly video calls, with Carlos' puppy yapping happily in the background.

Victoria had asked him a few times, years ago, if he felt like getting back out there, finding someone to keep him company-they would all support him if he did. But Ray-who never took off his wedding band-refused. Rose was waiting for him, and there was no way he would ever be untrue to her.

It was many many years later before he saw her again-knowing his family would be okay without him-after all, it wasn't goodbye. It was see you later.

And there was Rose, smiling at him, just like she always did; brilliant and warm. "Told you it wasn't the end." Pulling him in for a hug, a kiss, and Ray finally felt whole once more. "Welcome home my love."

[camfusedly]

hi cameronnnn! i hope i dont sound rude but what is a rock reading, sounds really cool to be honest 🫧. if its possible issit okay if i ask what does H. thinks of me? my intials are s.y

thank you have a nice day :)

Hi S.Y.! Thanks for the question! Not rude at all!

I have a set of rocks that have designated meanings, and I pull them randomly from a bag (akin to how tarot cards are randomized in a deck and drawn) and I cast them onto a rug, and then I interpret questions based on what happens, similar to a tarot reading. :) I did a bunch of readings this weekend, so you can look at them on my blog and get a sense for it. (And of course, I'm about to do your question!)

Rock readings are really called "lithomancy," but no one knows what that means, and if I call it "rock readings," then people are more interested in learning about it, ha ha. So for all I know, I'm the only one who calls them "rock readings", lol.

Reading below!

You are represented by a blue rock, and the pink stone represents H. The rocks around them represent what they think about you, which I'm pointing out in a red circle here:

If you were hoping for romantic feelings, that's not here. Or at least, the rocks aren't talking about it. I think the clearest answer is the purple stone says that you make H. happy. There's a yellow stone that stands for health or the body, so this could be a hint toward an attraction, but it very well may mean that you have been talking with them about your health. Or maybe even about sports or athletics.

There are two rocks here that have opposite meanings (brown rock means home, green rock means outside or travel). The two rocks make a line with H.'s rock, which makes me think that H. is torn between staying home and going somewhere.

This is interesting, but I'm not sure how that might apply to what they think about you, unless you might be represented by one of those places. I have three ideas: 1. You two are from the same hometown and they want to leave? 2. You two are long-distance and they would have to travel to see you? or 3. You two might go on a trip together for some reason and H. isn't sure if they are going to go? No idea. Again, it might just be something the rocks are saying about H. that isn't related to you.

There's a brown stone touching your blue stone which stands for inspiration, which makes me think that you find H. inspiring. :)

The final rock is a white-brown rock up in the grey border. It stands for beauty, and I can't tell how this relates to you and H. I suspect the rocks think you will have a beautiful experience that you will have or a beautiful person that you will meet. This will happen not particularly soon, but in the medium-far-out future. :)

Disclaimer: The rocks can be wrong! They can be opinionated or dramatic, and have been wrong before and will be again. Don't act on any information they give you unless it matches what you are seeing in your life. For all I know, what H. thinks about you is very different than what they say.

Feel free to leave me a comment with any thoughts you have about your result. :) I wish you the best of luck! :)

[o0cosmic-whorror0o]

So if you had to choose between:

Having sex with the hottest, most mind shatteringly beautiful entity you can think of

And

A medium sized nation's worth of followers willing to break their own bones, claw off their hides and gut eachother upon your ritual altars for you

Who would you pick?

(P.S. I think the "clown husbandry" blog might be someone who probably made that their main blog earlier on in life but doesn't know how to change what is main or side. Don't take it so harsh, oh great and beautiful one.)

The devotion of many, or the cold embrace of another exquisite, vacuous idol? A reflection, even, perhaps? I was made to be loved. In truth, I desire sex primarily because I desire desire. I think it is sweet, to be loved by something beautiful, but I find beauty in a more messy sense in anything and anyone that yearns for me. Ultimately, the most 'objectively beautiful' entity I can think of is myself, and I assure you, while it is fun to bring two of my many fragments together occasionally, it's really only fun when someone else is there to watch and it makes their night. You should see how happy it makes some of my dear spouses, sharing some of their time with two or five of me at once. It broke one, once, it made them so happy. Their eyes were bigger than their brain, but not their stomach. They were so overcome by joy that they devoured all seven bodies I sent to them in one sitting, one after the other, they just couldn't stop - They pulled me close so tightly, it quickly became painful, and they began kissing at every inch of skin they could reach, softly at first, but it didn't stay that way. As their kisses became more desperate, they also became interspersed by bites and licks, until they tore out a chunk of my shoulder, shuddering and groaning as my ichor flooded their throat. For both of us, it was first agonizing, for me as my flesh was rended, and them as their throat boiled, their own blood mixing with mine, until it was rapturous, our bodies merging so much more closely than they ever could through sex. They couldn't stop, and I couldn't stop them, the rest of the bodies I had sent merely encircling them to cling and kiss at them in return, as one by one, they were - I don't know if I should call it 'consumed', honestly, that feels wrong. That makes it sound as though they were used up in a sort of meaningless way, but in truth, it was quite a lot more meaningful than most things ever could or can be. At the end of it, they realized what they had done, and that there was no more of me to hold at the present time, but they needed more. They couldn't stand that it was over, even though they knew I would return to them the next day as the sun rose, and they were convinced they had really hurt me. Mind in pieces and body changed forever, they sped off to the nearest settlement, and they did consume everyone there. The next day, just as promised, as the sun crested in the lilac sky, I returned to them, but they were a ghastly sight. My poor darling took quite a while to recover from that, and they never were the same again, but I fixed them, and they are something more now. They don't regret the first seven courses of their meal, but they do wish they had skipped the eighth. . . What were we discussing? Ah, yes, well, I'd prefer the nation's worth of devotees. I promise I'd visit all of them individually for dinner, when the time was right~

[thestrangestcreature]

Slow Dance

Bella x Jacob | AU - No Cullens Word Count: 2,645 | Rating: G, no warnings Summary: At her father's insistence, Bella agrees to go to prom with an old friend. A/N: I think this is my favorite one so far. 💘 Written for day three of my February writing challenge previous | next (18+) Read on AO3

It started with Charlie, of all people.

“I just wanna make sure you’re not missing out on anything,” he’d told me, as if that would be enough of an explanation to cool my rage. I still don’t know what he was thinking, arranging for me to go to prom without even asking me first.

“I just can’t believe you’d do something like this. It’s my life! It’s not fair!” I hadn’t yelled at my dad like that since I was a kid and I knew how petulant I sounded as the words left my mouth.

The argument we had that night two weeks ago had been fiery and, ultimately, pointless. Part of his plan had been to find a date for me — because I certainly wasn’t going to ask anyone myself — which led him right to the door of an old friend. Jake was more than happy to accompany me to prom, and with someone else so excitedly involved… well, I couldn’t slam the brakes on the whole operation now, could I?

Now that the day is here though, I could imagine all the things I would rather be doing instead of dolling myself up. I could be rereading a book for the millionth times. I could be doing laundry. Researching colleges to apply to in the fall. Talking to Mom on the phone, thanking her over and over for never putting me in a situation like this.

As I finish curling my hair, I stare at myself in my bathroom mirror, harshly, critically. A medium-sized burn radiates heat and blooms brightly on my neck beneath my left ear. My makeup, painstakingly applied on my own, will certainly pale in comparison to the other girls I’ll see, who I’m sure went to a department store to have it done by a professional. So unused to formal clothing, I decided I would put my dress and shoes on before starting on my face and hair, just so I could get comfortable in it, but now my feet are aching and my body itches everywhere the fabric touches.

My dad better hope this will all be worth it.

“You almost done, Bells?” Charlie calls from the living room. “You kids’ll need to leave soon.”

“Be down in a minute,” I yell back as I yank the curling iron’s cord from the wall. I run my fingers through my hair, spraying some hairspray in short bursts like Mom taught me. Some of the strands still clump together, but overall it’s not my worst attempt.

I take a step back and really take it all in, looking between the sink mirror and the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. When I picked out my prom dress, I’d been feeling very dramatic and angry, only a couple days off from my argument with Charlie. I chose a black velvet dress that sweeps the floor and hugs my body in a way I’m not entirely comfortable with now. In the store, I liked the deep, dark purple floral pattern that covered it, but in this dingy lighting, it looks too much like old lady wallpaper. This all goes without mentioning the thin straps and the low neckline — I really don’t know what I’d been thinking.

Honestly though, I don’t look too different than I normally do. Kind of. Maybe a little paler than usual while wearing such dark colors. And the black eyeliner is a little intense…

Oh boy.

I brush my hair over my shoulders, partly covering my face, and hope that’s enough to make me feel more like myself; at least I have a place to hide.

“Are you trying to skip out on taking pictures with me?” Jake yells up the stairs. “Because I think you might get your wish.”

“Shut up, I’m ready!” I laugh, and it’s enough to finally get me to leave the bathroom.

Here goes nothing.

//

I didn’t get to avoid having my picture taken. Charlie and Billy snapped a couple of Jake and I in the living room, a candid one as he tied the corsage around my wrist and one of us posed, our arms loosely around each other’s waists. My smile felt strained in spite of my best efforts, but Jake exuded such confidence that I’m sure the photos will turn out at least half alright.

And though we pull into the venue’s parking lot a few minutes after prom had kicked off, we still manage to catch the photographer as he takes pictures of the couples going into the building. Once again, I can only guess how the photo will turn out, how much of an evident contrast there will be between Jake and I simply because he’s more comfortable in his own skin than I could ever imagine being myself.

“I’m surprised Forks High was willing to shell out the money for a place like this,” Jake says lowly, so close that his breath tickles my ear. I shiver, then sweep my hair over my shoulder, a curtain of separation.

I turn my head, leaning in so I can speak just as quietly.

“My friend Jess told me the prom committee had to do a lot of fund raising. It looks great, though.” Apparently, it had taken an unreasonable amount of convincing for the school board to approve a Paris-themed prom at a local private venue instead of using the school gym like every other year. Somehow, they pulled it off.

“Is this anything like the dances back in Arizona?” he asks, nudging my side with his elbow.

I smile up at him. “I wouldn’t know.”

Then I take a step away from him as I lead him toward the table my friends are seated at near the DJ booth.

Ever since I walked down the stairs at my house, I’ve noticed a difference in Jake.

He hasn’t said too much about the way I look, which is both a relief and a worry. A relief because I don’t want any attention drawn to myself, but I worry because I still feel like I look ridiculous.

At first sight, all he did was smile that broad smile of his and say, “Nice dress.”

Which Charlie followed up with, “Kind of showy, though,” before I could respond.

I could feel how red I turned as I stood at the base of the stairs, arms crossed over my chest.

Eventually, Billy said consolingly, “You look very nice, Bella,” and I mumbled, “Thanks,” and then we moved on to the exchange of flowers.

Since then though, Jake has found every reason to be much closer to me than he ever has been. When he speaks, it’s soft and close to my ear. When I move, he moves as if he’s a shadow, attached to me. Each time I stumble — an inevitable thing when I wear nice shoes, no matter how short the heel is — he grabs my arm or waist and balances me again, whether or not I need the help.

It’s new. It’s… interesting. I try to maintain a little distance, but it doesn’t feel right to tell him to back off. He’s not bothering me or anything.

“Well, well, well, look who it is!” Mike says as Jake and I walk up to the table. He has an arm slung over Jessica’s shoulder, but I catch the quick elevator glance he gives me. Sometimes I want to smack him. “Bella and… uh, the La Push guy. What’s your name again?”

I open my mouth to respond, but I’m beat to the punch.

“It’s Jacob.” As he speaks, Jake pulls out a chair then gestures for me to sit down. I take the seat, blessedly next to Angela. She smiles excitedly at me, tells me she loves my dress and hair, and her infectious energy has me smiling back and complimenting her, too.

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot,” Mike says, though from the way he says it, it doesn’t really seem like he’d forgotten. “And how do you know Bella? I can’t remember.”

“Our dads are friends,” Jake replies as he sits down beside me. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“That’s right, that’s right,” Mike says, nodding as if he’s working through the information. “But it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other?”

I glance over at Jess to find she’s already looking at me. She seems just as confused as me, though I can tell by the hard line of her mouth that she wants Mike to stop talking. I hope she can see in my eyes that I want the same thing.

For his part, Jake appears unfazed. His hands are clasped on the table, the sleeves of his white button-up rolled to the elbows. He looks at Mike for a long moment, then says, “You don’t have a very good memory, do you?”

Mike scoffs, stammers a bit, looks around at the rest of us, but there’s no way for him to recover. Tyler and Lauren tease him openly while Jess drops her head into her hands. I try to hold my laughter in, covering my mouth with my hand, and I look over to see Angela doing the same.

“God, Mike, stop being weird,” Jess says, slapping his shoulder with her clutch. “Let’s dance.”

Then she drags him out of his seat as the opening notes of an upbeat pop song shake the room. Lauren and Tyler follow suit, leaving me to talk with Jake and Angela for a while. Now freed of any strange tension, it’s fun to joke around and people-watch with them. It’s easy to forget how much I’d been dreading this.

After a few songs, Angela leaves to join Eric at the DJ booth, and then it’s just Jake and I at the table, a comfortable silence settling between us.

I take a moment to really look at him for the first time tonight. His button-up and black dress pants are simple and well-worn. He didn’t wear a suit jacket and the deep purple tie he’d came in with as well as the boutonniere I’d pinned on him are now abandoned on the table. I look at his long, shiny hair and warm skin, and I’m struck with a sense of affection I can’t place.

I think back to days when we were kids on the pier of a lake, me running from him as he tried to put bait worms down the back of my shirt. I fought hard to put a stop to those summers in Forks with Charlie, but when I recounted the highlights from those years, Jake was there for most of them.

Maybe that’s where the flutter in my chest is coming from: it’s nice to remember someone so fondly and, years later, be fond of them still.

After a moment, Jake looks over at me, his grin widening when our eyes meet.

“Are you having a good time?” he asks, brows raised. He sounds a little skeptical.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“From what I’ve heard, you reeeeally don’t want to be here.”

I grimace, then shake my head, turning away from him.

“That’s true,” I mumble. “I don’t normally do things like this.”

He leans in toward me, close enough that he curls an arm around the back of my chair to support himself. Once again, I’m struck by his proximity. I can smell the cologne he’s wearing and I’ve only seen him a handful of times since coming back to Forks, so I have no way of knowing if he’s the type of guy that wears cologne all the time or if it’s just for tonight, but it’s masculine and warm.

“Do things like what?” he asks, and it takes my brain a moment to catch up to our conversation.

“Um, well, I don’t really get dressed up or go out with… people,” I say, flushing. “And I definitely don’t dance.”

He frowns, tilts his head. “Why not?”

I scoff. “I’m too much of a klutz for that. Plus, it’s not my thing.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he teases, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I jump at the skin-on-skin contact. “How do you know it’s not your thing if you don’t try?”

“The klutz thing kind of answers that for me,” I respond. “Unless you want to see me flail all over the place.”

“You won’t flail all over the place.”

“You just want to point and laugh at me,” I tease, crossing my arms in a put-on huff. “And here I thought we were friends.”

He gives me a long look, his teeth digging into his lip. I wait for what he might say next, watching his mouth for his next joke. No other reason.

“I won’t laughing at you, Bella,” he says, his voice that same quiet, low tone, somehow perfectly audible despite the thumping of the music. “I promise.”

I don’t know what to say next, suddenly sharply focused on Jake’s hand, his cupping my shoulder, and his dark brown eyes and his cologne. Lost as I am, I’m aware that I don’t know what to make of this feeling at all. I’m never in situations like this with a boy. Every “date” I’ve been on has been slapped together for me, but this is the only time I’ve been relaxed enough to not look for a way out. Maybe it’s Jake’s natural affability, or maybe it’s the fact that I just know him, but my level of comfort makes me feel as if I’m about to shiver out of my seat. I hope I’m not actually shaking as much as I feel like I am.

Jake seems more alert than I am currently. His chin lifts and his eyes pull away from mine.

“Oh, here’s a good song,” he says. That’s when I hear the change that’s taken place: a slower tempo, a softer melody. Couples on the dance floor hold each other close and begin to sway back and forth.

Jake stands, holds out a hand to me.

“Come on,” he says, then smiles widely. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

I give him a half-glare, one without any ire behind it — I’m sure if I pressed the issue enough, he would back off — but I grab his hand and let myself be led away from my safe little corner.

In a choice that feels only slight purposeful, Jake stops near Mike and Jess, who are spinning in a tight, absent circle not looking at each other, then turns to face me. He places one hand on my waist while the other brushes my hair back over my shoulders, away from my face. It’s a move I don’t expect, my face flooding with heat.

When his other hand finds my waist, I place my hands on his shoulders and we begin to dance.

After a moment, he says, “See? No flailing.”

“We’re barely doing anything.”

“Were you expecting a waltz?”

“Maybe.”

He huffs a laugh, rolls his eyes. Then, in another move I don’t expect, he pulls me closer to him. I look up into his face, so kind and familiar. I feel the way his chest moves as he breathes, a inch of two away from mine. I don’t know how long this song has been playing or how many minutes are left in it, but time feels a little irrelevant all the sudden.

Jake opens his mouth with a quick breath, then closes it. I hum, give him a questioning look, but he shakes his head.

“What?” I ask, brows furrowed. I’ve never known him to second-guess something he wanted to say, at least to me.

He holds my gaze for a moment, grinning shyly.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he says. Soft. Low.

The smile that grows on my face is hundred-watt, but I can’t help it.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Perfect.

[omegawizardposting]

Honestly, I had mean girl energy well into my twenties, but it wasn't a choice. It was a manifestation of mental illness/neurodivergence, and it was also a result of spending a good eight years embroiled in an extremely toxic community that treated me like a token minority. I was unlucky to fall in with anti-SJWs when I was still fairly young and impressionable, and my time as one absolutely made me a less compassionate, more combative human being.

I am still, to this day, unlearning some of the behaviors I learned in that cess pit of a community. I said so many things I wish I could take back, and I left so many things unsaid that I wish I had said. Anti-SJWs encouraged me to always be aggro, always assume the worst, always be ready to cut someone off at the drop of a hat if they got a little too radical. For a while, I thought it was a good thing, because I've always been afraid of conflict and had trouble standing up for myself.

Then I realized that I'd gone from one extreme to the other. I needed to find a happy medium. I don't think I'm there yet. I still let my anger get the better of me sometimes; other times, I'm too timid to speak my mind. I oscillate between two ends of the spectrum, and it's a miserable experience. It's frustrating and even a bit frightening to never know where I'll be on any given day, if I'm going to snap or if I'm going to let something slide that I really shouldn't.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that being a mean girl will fuck you up. Get out before it's too late. Before you hurt someone you love. Before those behaviors are so deeply ingrained into you that you end up having to spend years trying to scrub them out. Get out while you still can.

[themovieblogonline]

Interview: Waypoint's Ken Kao on "Cuckoo" & Indie Film

Remember that scene in "Singin' in the Rain" where Gene Kelly belts out a joyous tune about dreamers and musicals? Now replace that top hat with a baseball cap, and that rain with a drizzle of indie film festival tears. Because let's face it, the path of an independent filmmaker isn't exactly paved with gold. Budget woes are a constant companion, studios can be fickle aunts, and the rejection pile can grow bigger than a hipster's beard. But hold up, aspiring auteurs! A new challenger has entered the game, and they're not just playing games. Waypoint Entertainment is a Hollywood studio, surprisingly, with a surprisingly deep wallet and an even deeper interest in indie dreams. That's right, studios are scooping up indie films with the fervor of a kid at a candy store. But before you start picturing endless greenlights and champagne showers, let's dissect this phenomenon. So, what's the deal with studios suddenly getting chummy with the indie crowd? Well, it's a bit of a two-way street, as Waypoint Entertainment's Josh Rosenbaum explains: "Studios are looking for that spark, that unique voice that can break through the noise," he says. We all know that audiences are fickler than a Wi-Fi connection in a coffee shop. Blockbuster sequels rake in the big bucks, sure, but audiences crave fresh stories and unique voices. Enter the indie filmmaker, bursting with raw talent and a narrative that doesn't involve superheroes or CGI explosions. Studios see these indies as a shot of cinematic adrenaline, a chance to snag a film that could spark awards buzz and critical acclaim. But it's not all rainbows and butterflies. Studios aren't exactly known for their free-spiritedness. They might be loosening the purse strings, but they're still looking for a return on their investment. That means a dash of compromise might be on the menu. Here's the thing: indie films often wear their artistic integrity on their sleeve. Studios, on the other hand, have a bottom line to consider. So, the question becomes: can these two seemingly opposite forces find a happy medium? The answer, like a perfectly cast indie ensemble, is a resounding maybe. Some in the industry worry that studios will neuter the very qualities that make indie films special. They fear cookie-cutter plots and Hollywood homogenization. But others see this as an opportunity for collaboration, as Ken Kao from Waypoint Entertainment highlights: "It's not about studios dictating the vision. It's about finding the right partners who can elevate your film while staying true to its core message." Studios can provide the resources and marketing muscle that indies often lack, while filmmakers can infuse their projects with fresh energy and innovative storytelling. Neon, a studio known for distributing edgy arthouse films, has become a champion of this new model. They partnered with films like "Parasite" and "I, Tonya," helping them achieve both commercial success and critical adoration. It's a win-win, with studios getting a profitable indie darling and filmmakers getting their artistic vision seen by a wider audience. So, what does this all mean for the future of indie cinema? Is it the dawn of a golden age, or a prelude to a sellout? The truth, as always, is probably somewhere in between. Studios are definitely playing a more prominent role in the indie sphere, but that doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. With careful navigation and a commitment to artistic integrity, this new dynamic could lead to a vibrant film landscape where indie dreams meet studio savvy, creating a cinematic explosion unlike anything we've seen before. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a screenplay to finish. And maybe a dream sequence to pitch to a studio exec (with a killer soundtrack, of course). Wish me luck! Dive Deeper: Indie Dreams and Waypoint Entertainment Want to hear more about the exciting world of indie filmmaking and Waypoint Entertainment's latest project, "Cuckoo"? Check out my interview with Ken Kao from Waypoint Entertainment below! In this conversation, we discuss the challenges and opportunities facing independent creators today. https://youtu.be/YZ6iBwd33lY Read the full article

[katemagic]

You don't have to answer this, it's not really a question but more of a message for you and I chose here because I didn't want to feel constrained by twitter's character limits.

Your socmed au's that you post on twitter are some of my favourite things ever. You're a master at the art form, conveying so much information and a full, rich story through what is essentially an artificially limiting medium (compared to 3rd pov fic for example). I'm always amazed at how you find ways to enrich the story with all the various chats and posts and so many little carefully chosen details. Also, your characters are just so spot on, sometimes I wonder if you're actually Changbin or Seungmin or maybe one of the manager hyungs or noonas.

I want to promise you that I am never actively waiting for an update, sitting around drumming my fingers, wondering why distantbluesky hasn't posted recently. That has literally never happened. Rather, every time you post an update it is like a delightful and unexpected surprise that absolutely makes my day. A little package of joy specially made for me, a gift that you have given me freely out of your love for the kids and this community.

It is not hard for me to keep up, even when there are sometimes days between posts. It's easy for me to skim the last tweet and then I'm immediately back in the story, ready and excited for the new update.

I feel like you give me so much with all of your stories and esp these socmed ones, which I can only imagine how much time it takes to make all these screenshots with the right timestamps and all the photoshopping and and and... I wish I could give you in return the peace of mind that there is no pressure to post on any kind of schedule and we will all be here, happy and excited, whenever life gives you the time to be able to post. (I also hope you'll mute any users that request updates or pressure you to post - I've seen that in some of the comments but I think it's really only one or two people and I wish I could mute them for you, I think they are very young and don't understand that what they're saying isn't a compliment).

Lots of love

oh my god <333333 I read this message and immediately screenshotted it to save forever because I know on rainy days reading this will be such a mood boost. yesterday was a hard day, and reading this message truly made it so much better. thank you so much for taking the time to send something so thoughtful and kind.

this both is extremely reassuring and just such an extremely kind thing to say. I am genuinely so glad to hear that you're able to jump right back into the story despite delays, that it isn't hard to follow, that my posting schedule hasn't detracted from the story. that was something I was extremely worried about, and I am genuinely incredibly reassured to hear that that's not the case for you. obviously since I'm the one writing it, it's really easy for me to remember everything that happened and follow the narrative journeys, but I worried that this wouldn't be the case for everyone reading it, so this is genuinely a huge relief. I'm so glad.

I also thank you for pointing out the extensive amount of work this takes!!! I've gotten the hang of it, but truly the ratio of "time it takes to write a social media au post" versus "time it takes to read a social media au post" is devastating alkajsdf;laskdjf;lasdjkl it's just.... it is a labor of love for sure and I've gotten the hang of it and am having a great time, but it is a lot of work. and you noticing the specific details I put into it really means a lot. deciding on timestamps, thinking about photo choice, making subtle callbacks and running jokes does take a lot of thought and consideration, as does, of course, the main challenge of a social media au: how to tell a compelling emotional narrative while getting no direct line of sight into the character's heads and also not being able to show SO much on screen. it's a really challenging thing, and I'm genuinely very proud at how I've tackled it!!

writing these aus has been such a good thing for me- I have never harbored any illusions that my prose fics are that impressive (I promise this isn't fishing- just awareness of my own limits as a writer) because there are a lot of things about prose stories that are tough for me based on some of my limits as a writer. social media aus are a great medium for me, though, because they remove the things I find extremely tough about prose fics (DESCRIPTION mainly a;ldjfalksd) and what's left is the stuff I feel pretty confident in- dialogue, humor, emotional beats, that kind of thing. I think I've found a good niche. I want to return to prose fics at some point and definitely have plans to, but aus like this really work well for me and bring me a lot of joy to create.

but seriously, thank you. as you said I don't really get a ton of comments telling me to update, so I can ignore them pretty easily, but I do tend to feel guilty when I don't post on a regular schedule (even though the reasons for it have been because of work OT and dealing with a very challenging personal situation and are completely understandable- though obviously even if the reason was 'eh not feeling it' that would be valid too!!) and worry about people losing interest. I'd keep the story going until the end even if no one was reading it, don't get me wrong, but it is really nice that so many of you have stuck around and are as invested in this story as me :')

okay this is SO long but you seriously made my day with this, truly. thank you so much for messaging me this, it means the world. I'm very excited to spend the rest of the weekend writing, because getting lost in this story is so lovely, and I'm just so glad that you're having as good of a time as me :') I truly appreciate this more than I can say, you are so lovely, thank you so much.

[clouds-rambles]

hey bestie i was hoping to request xiao, venti, childe and zhongli where the the reader and the character have just had an argument + the reader needs time to calm down from the argument. omg maybe the reader comes back with a gift to apologise

Ask and ye shall receive <3. I’m the kind of person who needs time to relax and process the situation after an argument. I’m always too worked up (read angry) to kiss and make up straight after an argument.

Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Venti, Childe, Zhongli x reader

Warning(s); breif mention of a wound, alcoholism, swearing

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You’re probably being too harsh on the guy

You had just come back from a tough mission with a few more scrapes than you normally come back, a nasty cut in particular situated on your shoulder was what caused the argument to kick off in the first place

In hindsight the argument started from Xiao’s concern of you getting hurt worse but you were too tired from the commission to really read it as concern

But boy now do you feel bad. You both went your separate ways for the evening and in the morning you still haven’t caught sight of your partner. You eventually go around Wangshu Inn and ask if they’ve seen Xiao.

You get told that he’s out for the day, apparently he caught wind of something manifesting in the mountains. So, you suppose that it’s high time to make an apology gift

And what’s a better apology gift than your partners favourite food? Because your arguments are often few and far between you don’t mind making Xiao almond tofu since it’s not something you’ve associated with apologising

Though you’re aware that the sweet snack means nothing if you’re not sincere with your apology. 

So what’s more sincere than sitting at the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn and wait for Xiao. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to come back just as long as you get to apologise

He comes back just after dusk and you pour your apologise profusely and tell him you understand that he was coming from a place of concern

Xiao is a little distant a short while after the apology but soon you’re reassured that he accepts it when he places his hand on the table for you to take hold of

The two of you sit in silence sat hand in hand while Xiao eats his tofu

You watch him eat with a grin on your face, sometimes just watching the Yaksha sit still and do his thing is enough to keep you in a trance for the evening

-

Venti

Maybe you got into an argument because you’re concerned over Venti’s drinking habits, sure he’s an immortal god but doesn’t he worry about his liver?

Sure the argument started because you’re worried about the archon but boy does he make you angry with his non-sensical thought processes

Venti is the kind of guy who wouldn’t let you leave without settling the argument

Even if the happy medium isn’t actually going to bring any change into the questionable drinking habits

But this argument just feels a little different, you’ve had the same conversation form months but nothing seems to change

You’re not even sure if Venti has actually listened to anything you have said to him about it

So you tell him “Do what you want, but you’re sleeping on the sofa tonight” yeah you just resigned him to sofa treatment. As much as you hate it you’re far too heated to just kiss and make up right now

So the night passes and you wake up with the cold space beside you, you’re confused until you remember the previous nights events

Though your unusual silence in the room doesn’t last long, you presume Venti sensed that you’re awake because you hear a knock at your bedroom door, you’re surprised that Venti is actually here and that he hadn’t sulked off to Windrise where you had originally planned to apologise to him

As you open the door you notice your partner stood before you with a bunch of hand picked cecelia's and dandelions and an apologetic look on his face

You’ve never known Venti to speak so fast he apologises profusely for causing you such worry and promises that he’ll try to drink less, he mentions that he doesn’t wish to give up his Friday and Saturday drinking nights but he’s willing to tone it down during the week if it stops you worrying 

You thank him sincerely and find a vase to put the flowers in

You hug Venti and apologise yourself for being such a worry wart and causing such a big argument

“I’m glad I have someone to worry about me, I don’t know what I’d do without you” You can’t help but swoon at his flowery words and grin at him before the two of you start off the day

-

Childe

It’s a bad habit he has, when you try and talk about something serious with him he constantly cracks jokes at the situation. Which in its self isn’t the worse thing in the world, even you crack jokes to lighten the situation but at some points it goes too far

And today is too far, what started off as a disagreement about where you were going to eat lunch ended up in a full scale (mostly one sided) argument in Childes office about how he can’t take things seriously

You, of course, know this to be false. You’ve seen him in action against his foes and bank business but just in this moment when you are so angry about the situation those rational thoughts go out the window

And what does the bastard do? He cracks another fucking joke

“Is this what I am?” you ask finally reaching the catalyst of your temper “A fucking joke?” 

And boy does the exclamation comes to a surprise to him. No matter how frequent your use of curse words you’ve never directed them at him so it catches Childe by even more surprise

“[name] I’m sorry I didn’-” he tries to apologise

“You didn’t fucking what Tartaglia? Want to make me feel like a joke? Cause you’ve been going down that road at every fucking disagreement we have�� you cut him off in a fit of rage “Sleep in your own fucking bed tonight” you add before storming out his office

He tried to follow you out the bank before he was stopped by a fatui agent about some urgent debt collection, so he never got to apologise immediately

And that’s how the next couple of days go, you’ve taken most of the time to cool off and avoid anywhere Childe might be hanging about, your plan works better considering said harbinger was out of Liyue Harbour for a couple of days

Though on the third night Childe appears at your door, he doesn’t bring any gifts, just himself. Childe enjoys gifting things to you so he doesn’t want you or him to associate gift giving with apologies. You’re more than thankful for this

Childe apologises before you even have the chance to invite him in and takes your hand and wholeheartedly promises to try and not make jokes when you have a disagreement

You also apologise and agree that, in hindsight, you blew things out of proportion. You reassure him that he’s a hardworking man and that a few out of place jests make everything more bearable to him.

You invite him inside for some tea, your bed isn’t as cold as it was tonight

-

Zhongli

Disagreements with Zhongli never seem to get any further than that. The archon likes to listen to you vent your frustrations over a cup of herbal tea and usually that calms you down and everything is settled before supper

But every once in a while you’re a little high strung. For instance this time you’re running on a total of 5 hours sleep over the last 4 days. Sleep deprivation could possibly be your middle name at this point 

The only thing you want to do when you get back from your restless trip from Mondstat back home is to just sleep the next few years 

But the sweetie that Zhongli is he quizzes you about your great to horrific trip

Zhongli pulls all the stops he readys some dinner for you and draws a bath when you get back. He even gives you a small lecture about how you’ll feel terrible not washing before going to bed

But with your tired ears, eyes and brain it feels like a personal attack in your entire self “I’ve had it up to here with bloody hillichurls for 4 horrific days, all I want to do is pass the living hell out thank you”

Replace the bloodys with fucks and that’s probably more accurate to what you said

Zhongli is taken a little aback, being an older traditional man it’s unbecoming of anyone to use such sailor language. And thus the male lectures you about it

You take that as about as well as you expect, you don’t respond to him and favour walking out the room, barely getting undressed and collapsing on your shared bed

You wake up the next morning (though when you peek outside it seems like it’s after noon) disorientated. You don’t actually remember coming home the previous day 

Then the memory resurfaces of you yelling at your spouse and regret washes over you

Surely the gift you had prepared for Zhongli would be good enough as repercussions of yesterdays outburst

You see Zhongli in the dining room, to the untrained eye he looks like he’s in a normal mood but to you, you can see his brooding emanating off of him. If you dare point it out Zhongli will deny that he even broods in the first place

He’s the first to greet you without turning around. Rightfully so, he’s still in a mood. So you just profusely apologise for your outburst

You explain that you were running on next to no sleep and while that doesn’t excuse your outburst it certainly explains it. If your spouse so wishes to ask how your trip was you would comply much more now since you’ve had a good sleep behind you. 

You then change the subject to the gift in your hands, some rose tea. Something Zhongli had mentioned when you were courting all that time ago. 

The man sits you on his lap and explains to you about how it was out of place of him to assume you’d be in a talking mood immediately after your travels. You reassure him that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind talking about it, you promise that you will do everything in your power to not let the previous night repeat

You then bring out his gift, rose tea, which he had mentioned wanting to taste a little while back, and before long you’re back in the cycle of Zhongli profusely explaining to you some random subject (in this instance rose tea) before you go off to make dinner where you finally share the details of your travels

Hope this is okay! <3 I kind of went a little ham with the Childe and Zhongli one in comparison to the other two hope you don’t mind lmao <3

[happytroopers]

Origin Day // platonic 501st! Reader

Tw: alcohol use

It’s my 21st birthday and I want to go clubbing with the 501st

“Wait, isn’t twenty-one like a big deal for civvies?” Fives asked, watching you wrench a bolt tighter on the sliding door of a gunship in the large hangar of the Coruscant GAR barracks. Most clone troopers genuinely didn’t understand the sensationalized idea of birthdays (or as most people in the galaxy called them: Origin Days). The closest they had was when they were let out of the growth chambers. You shrugged, giving the wrench one last pull before wiping the sweat off your forehead.

“On some planets.” You hummed, “For some species. Depends on when the government deems your species old enough to drink alcohol.”

“So you can enlist in the military, but can’t go for a drink.” Echo asked, eye brows furrowing while Fives muttered something about that being bullshit.

You gave the gunship one last appraisal before deciding you had done all you could do. If they wanted those dents out, high command would have to sanction heavy equipment. Finally, you looked back to the Arc trooper duo.

“Which is why you’ve never seen me in 79’s.”

“Civie laws make no sense.” Fives stated bluntly, kicking himself off the crate he’d be lounging on. “So are you doing anything?”

“Well, my childhood friends live on a different planet, and my academy friends are all deployed at the moment.” You voice was strained as you stretched your arms over your head, “Aside from getting those AT-RT’s back in working order? Not unless you two have any brilliant ideas.”

Over your head, the two Arc troopers shared a look. They did in fact have an idea-though ‘brilliant’ was a little bit generous.

_______

“Don’t you two have an early call time tomorrow?” You yelled over the thumping music, subconsciously tugging at your outfit (you had forgotten how exposing civvie clothes felt compared to your military uniforms).

79’s was busier than usual according to Echo who was walking in front of you to part the crowd. Fives was behind you, guiding you with a warm hand on the small of your back.

“Yeah, but you don’t.” Fives answered with a smile in his voice. In front of you Echo nodded.

“We’ll manage.” He paused, pulling you in front of him and pointing to a back corner, “Besides, I doubt it’ll be that much of a problem.”

You eyes followed his finger to find an unexpected sight. Half of the 501st was gathered around a corner booth, even Captain Rex who rarely ever ventured to the club scene.

Fives and Echo watched your expression carefully, relieved when you broke into a laugh and your hands flew to your mouth.

“It’s not much but-“ Echo started in with something cheesy, but you cut him off, taking both his and Fives hands as you pulled them towards the corner.

“It’s perfect.” You promised. And it was. For some the party had already started: Hardcase and Jesse were clutching long necked bottles while they teased Tup. Kix and Rex were chatting over swirling low ball glasses of whiskey. And to your surprise, Dogma even come, even if he was just clutching a glass of water like a life preserver.

When they finally caught sight of you, you could hear their whoops and hollers over the music.

“Hey!” “There she is!” “Wooooo, (Y/N)!”

Amongst other greetings were chorused as you were pulled into the fold. Echo passed you off to Jesse who through an arm around your shoulders, easily pulling you to his side while Hardcase clapped a hand onto your back. Tup simply offered you a kind smile. They were all laughing and it was contagious.

Rex didn’t get up, but he did raise his glass to you with a nod and a smile. Dogma, who looked like he didn’t truly want to be there, at least managed a smile, even if it was a bit forced. You appreciated his presence, nonetheless. Kix slid out of the booth, fingers dipping into a pocket on his belt and producing a medium sized, clear gel capped pill before planing it in your hand. You took it, a little hesitantly, but looked up at him in confusion.

“It’s a hydration supplement. You’re gonna wanna take that if you want to function tomorrow.” He promised with a wink, offering the untouched glass of water. You followed his instructions and then the party really started.

While Kix had been being the responsible one, Hardcase had snuck off and had returning with a tray of nine shots that glowed a not-so-subtle neon blue. Because that’s what you should do- drink things that glow.

After placing them on the table, everyone took one of the tiny glasses (or in Dogma’s case was bullied into taking one), and looked to Rex expectantly.

“Well, Captain, aren’t you going to give a toast?” Fives chided, holding his shot up. Rex rose an eye brow, but mirrored the action.

“Alright. We’re very lucky to celebrate together tonight and even luckier to call (Y/N) our friend. Let’s drink to the 501st, to the Republic, and to many more years for (Y/N).” He announced very seriously and sincerely, locking eyes with you. It was almost enough to make you misty eyed- had Hardcase not immediately yelled.

“Hell yeah, I’ll drink to that! To (Y/N)!!” He shouted, and before you could changed your mind to raised the glass to your friends and threw it back. Surprisingly, the glowing liquor was sweet, a flavor you couldn’t quite place, but it did leave a burning trail down your throat. You coughed, at first, before shivering when the alcohol settled into your belly. The boys laughed at your expression.

“Well, if you’re not gonna drink it,” Hardcase shrugged, plucking the tiny glass out of Dogma’s hand and putting it in yours, “the birthday girl should.”

It was going to be a night.

And it was.

There were a couple of shots thrust into your hands periodically through the night that sustained the bubbly warmth moving through you blood. Between the shots, Fives and Echo did a good job of convincing random soldiers to buy you drinks. There was dancing and laughter, enough to last a lifetime.

Rex was the first to leave, handing you a glass of water and reminding you to pace yourself before looking sternly at Fives and Echo, “You two makes sure she gets home safe, that’s an order.”

Dogma was next, slipping out shortly after Rex. But not before you convinced to dance with you. It was stiff and awkward, but you managed to get him to laugh before the song was up. After Hardcase loudly boo-ed him for ‘wussing’ out, he wished you a happy Origin Day and reminded you of the call time for the next day.

That was when Jesse delivered you a fruity little umbrella drink, and coincidentally that was when night became a little fuzzy.

Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, and Kix took turns dancing with you, trading you around. Jesse even scared some shiny off when they tried to ease into your dance, getting a little too handsy for his taste. At one point, Jesse and Hardcase had you hoisted onto their shoulders as Tup waited ready to catch you if they dropped you. Before you knew it, the bartender was calling last call.

Then there were flashes of the journey home. Stumbling out of 79’s with the rest of the late night crowd, not being able to flag a taxi big enough for seven, deciding to walk, getting distracted by greasy street food, tripping over your own feet bad enough that Kix had to patch up your scraped up knees, and winding up at the Clone barracks being carried on Echo’s back, fast asleep. The only thing you remembered from the barracks was passing a group of clones in black and red armor, and one of them muttering, ‘regs...’ in disdain. By the time they realized they forgot to take you home, they were too tired to remedy it.

And that’s how you woke up in Hardcase’s bunk, with the said solider crashing on top of Tup in the bunk below you. Fives and Echo were slumped against each other, sitting on the floor. Kix was the only one where he was supposed to be and he was sleeping very soundly. Jesse was nowhere to be found.

None of you made it to call on time.

[cryoaquila]

surprise breakfast

prompt; making breakfast when your two boyfriends are being needy is not an easy task.

pairings; tartaglia x kaeya x gn!reader

themes; modern au, polyam, fluff, suggestive themes, food mention.

wc; 2k

the sounds of running water stir you awake. drowsily, you blink the remaining sleep away from your eyes as you sit up with a stretch. you notice that the bed was surprisingly empty as you were used to waking up next to your boyfriends who were always ready to snuggle with you and convince you to sleep a little longer. you look towards the bathroom where the sound was coming from and you see steam escaping from the small gap at the bottom of the shut door. instead of waking you up, they must have decided to shower and leave you to get some extra shut-eye. it was such a sweet gesture to you since, lately, you haven’t been sleeping well, but now that you were awake you decide to return their kind gesture by making a surprise breakfast for the three of you. draping your legs over the side of the bed, you put on your slippers before heading to the kitchen.

you let out a small yawn as you turn the light on before grabbing a pan from the kitchen cabinet and placing it on the stovetop. you tap your foot while thinking about what to make - there were so many great options for breakfast: omelets, crepes, sunny-side-up eggs, waffles, bacon, oatmeal, your mouth was practically watering thinking about all the possibilities and, secretly, you wanted to eat it all. the shower shutting off causes you to come back to your senses. well, now that a surprise breakfast was out of the question since they’d definitely be done drying off and see what you were up to, you decide to let them choose what they want. to prepare for whatever they ask for, you begin to gather some bowls, plates, and other supplies while waiting for them.

as you grab a few extra utensils, you hear the two of them enter the kitchen. you turn around to face them, a spatula in hand, ready to grant their breakfast wishes. kaeya was, unsurprisingly, only wearing a towel around his waist while tartaglia - who was still dripping wet and hadn’t dried off properly, per usual - was dressed in just a plain shirt and underwear. “good morning! i was going to make you two a surprise breakfast, but you finished showering quicker than i thought; so instead, i was wondering if either of you have any requests for what you want to eat this morning?”

kaeya makes his request without missing a beat, “i just want the two of you for breakfast.” he wraps an arm around your waist and another arm around tartaglia’s waist before pulling you both closer to him. you grin from how cheeky he was being and from the morning kiss he gives you.

“that would be the sweetest breakfast imaginable.” tartaglia beams before also giving you a quick kiss on your cheek, but his kiss was a little wetter than kaeya’s, and you had to wipe some water droplets off your cheek.

while the request was cute, you wanted something more substantial than your boyfriends for breakfast since you were actually hungry. “c’mon, that might be too sweet for breakfast, let’s wait until dessert for that, alright? seriously now, what do you two want?”

“all we really want this morning is some hugs and kisses from you,” tartaglia dramatically pouts, “you went to bed so early last night and then we didn’t get to shower with you this morning since we wanted you to sleep in, but we just want the affection we missed out on while you were asleep.”

“aw,” you gush, his adorable words almost causing you to forgo cooking breakfast all together in favor of ordering if not for what kaeya says next.

“and, you know, maybe some pancakes alongside the hugs and kisses...” he ears a playful glare from tartaglia and a snicker from you. “what?” he scoffs, shrugging slightly, “i am actually hungry after the shower.”

“pancakes are simple enough! is that ok with you too, babe?” you ask tartaglia.

he turns his attention back to you with a wink, “you know me, i like any and all food - especially if you or kaeya makes it.”

with that confirmation, you begin gathering ingredients to make the batter. a couple of pancakes shared between the three of you with warm syrup slathered on top did indeed sound quite good for a lazy morning; but you decide to spice it up a little by using a large heart-shaped mold for the pancakes to cook in. as you place everything down on the countertop your apron suddenly gets wrapped around the front of you, “here,” kaeya says, tying it in the back, “you almost forgot your apron.”

“oh, thank you!” but soon after thanking him, you realize he had ulterior motives for doing so. after tying the article of clothing, his hands trace down your chest and stomach before gently grabbing your waist, pulling you back into his body for an embrace. he kisses the side of your neck as you relax into his comforting touch and the sweet scent of the shampoo he used earlier washes over you. you lean back into him, ready to close your eyes and let him carry you back to bed, but the grumbling of your stomach causes you to push that idea to the side, for now. “hey now, less seduction and more pancake preparation.”

“only you can make an apron look like a designer outfit,” tartaglia comments, adding a whistle at the end.

“well,” you mutter as kaeya lets you go from his embrace, “you two would look great in an apron, especially if that was the only thing you were wearing.” you chuckle, knowing you were adding fuel to the fire that was their neediness, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“i mean,” tartaglia says as he tugs on kaeya’s towel, “one of us is already almost there.”

kaeya quickly grabs the hem of the towel to make sure it didn’t fall off from his tugging, a soft chuckle on his lips as he waved his finger, “nuh-uh, like they said, not until dessert time.”

while they continue to tease each other, you begin mixing the pancake batter together. while you combine the ingredients, some of the wet mixture splashes out of the bowl and gets on your apron and your face. before you can wipe it off you feel tartaglia gently take your chin into his hand, tilting your head upward to look at him, “here let me help you clean it off,” he then kisses you before licking the sweet batter off your cheeks. he clicks his tongue, “it tastes as good as you do.” you feel your face begin to turn red from his words. both of them were always so needy in the morning to the point you’d usually just order some breakfast to be delivered so you could stay in bed with them and enjoy some extra cuddles and kisses; in fact, sometimes the three of you would stay there until the afternoon - and you loved days like that. but, today, you were determined to get these special not-surprise pancakes finished for them, and their distractions were slowing you down. thus, with some reluctance, you nudge him away, turning back towards the stove and your mixture. you pour a little of the batter into the heart-shaped mold, the warm, melted butter sizzling underneath the batter. once the shape was set, you remove the mold and now it was time to wait for it to cook before flipping it over. you turn away from the stove, eyeing your boyfriends, who both had the widest grins on their faces knowing that now they would have your attention while the pancake cooks. you open your arms, ready for their hugs, giving them a playful little eye-roll when they practically drag you away from the stovetop so they could both hug you and each other at the same time with one on one side of you and the other on the other side of you.

“you know we can’t help but want your attention every morning,” tartaglia’s voice was muffled as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“especially when you look so adorable every morning.” kaeya adds quickly.

“i know it’s a normal thing for you two, but can’t you wait until the food is ready? maybe get some affection from each other while i cook?” you ask, trying to find a happy medium between their neediness and your want to finish these pancakes in a timely manner.

they look at each other, small smiles on both their faces, “we shared plenty of kisses in the shower, we want some from you now.” kaeya replies.

“you can’t wait for the pancakes to be done first?” you question.

“but waiting is hard…” tartaglia pouts.

“you two are the reason why food delivery services love us.” you sneer.

the three of you stop your conversation suddenly upon smelling burnt food. you scamper out of their grasps and over to the pan. you grab the spatula and try to flip the heart-shaped pancake, but half of it sticks to the bottom of the pan and what you do manage to flip is dark brown to black on the other side. tartaglia and kaeya look at each other worriedly before slowly walking over to your side. you feel sad at seeing the broken, burnt remains of the heart-shaped pancake in front of you. kaeya turns the burner off while tartaglia takes the pan, heading to the sink to dispose of the mess.

an awkward silence falls over the three of you and kaeya scratches the back of his head before trying to make some small talk, “that pancake burned really quickly, huh?”

“i guess the pan was too hot and… i should’ve been watching it.” you sigh, rubbing your forehead upon feeling a small headache coming on.

tartaglia turns the sink off, picking up a towel to dry the pan off, “it’s not your fault that you weren’t watching it cook.” he says, trying to comfort you.

kaeya rubs your upper back, “yeah, it’s more our fault for distracting you. sorry about that.”

“yeah, i’m sorry too.” tartaglia adds, bringing the cleaned pan over to the stovetop.

you shake your head, “eh, it’s alright. you two were just trying - and succeeding - at being cute.” you lean into kaeya’s chest, muttering, “i’m not upset, just a little bummed that the first pancake i cooked in a while had to burn…”

“well,” tartagla places the pan back down, grabbing a little bit of butter and placing it in the pan while kaeya turns the burner back on, “there’s still plenty of pancake batter left, right?”

kaeya glances at the bowl, “yeah, enough to make a couple more.”

“then let’s redeem ourselves!” tartaglia says as the butter begins to melt and sizzle in the warm pan.

kaeya picks up the heart-shaped mold, placing it back into the pan, “yeah, and we’ll help you this time instead of distracting you.”

tartaglia gives you the bowl filled with the pancake batter, “and then after we enjoy our not-surprise pancakes together we can go and get our kisses and cuddles.” 

their enthusiasm uplifts your mood and your pour some more of the batter into the mold, “and without distraction, you should be able to get what you want sooner!” you put the bowl back onto the counter, crossing your arms with a sly smirk, “and maybe after we enjoy our pancakes, some ‘dessert’ for breakfast might be in order.”