#i'm moving posting time to a little earlier in the afternoon

[artinvain]

pls pls pls more abby strapping/scissoring. make it NASTY NASTY NASTY 🫶🏾🏃🏾‍♀️

+ pervy/creepy roommate abby bc why not, if i'm going to be nasty!!

cw: manipulation, slight overtones of sacrilege, grinding/scissoring, strap usage, finger n oral, crying, sub!top abby, squirting, possessiveness.

no men, minors blank or ageless blogs allowed!!!!!!!!!!!

abby has been pining over you for months. it started as soon as she had met you for an interview about the room she was leasing. she opened the door and there a scent permeated from you, she swore it was an aphrodisiac. your soft skin and plush hips under that sundress. she was completely infatuated.

abby was head over heels and she'd be damned if she didn't see you again, so she lowered her rates for you after you'd mentioned the place was a little out of your budget (though, completely worth it -- you added). when you tried to politely decline out of respect for her. It was her father's apartment after all. however abby insisted in such a way that you couldn't say no.

she offered to help you move in, to show you around the city. she was already prattling on about dinners her father would pay for and roomie movie nights. you really couldn't say no to her offer if you tried, lowered rates, clean, spacious and a nice roommate? you were new in the city -- every other apartment you saw in your budget was loaded with roaches, dirty needles and loud noises. this was probably the best it would get.

to you abby seemed quiet, innocent and very very kind. she'd mentioned she didn't have many friends as she helped you move in, and slowly but surely she became your best friend. and of course a part of you had fallen for abby. how could you not? she was beautiful, funny, smart, protective and nurturing and god she was so fucking hot. but you weren't sure if a relationship was something you wanted, let alone not if it ruined the great friendship you finally had.

abby disagreed, she had read it in your journal and she wasn't worried about ruining your friendship because she was convinced that all roads let to bringing the two of you together. what else could explain how much she loved you?

what, if not love could explain why the scent of your panties, worn and damp from the day made her so wet. what but love could explain how hard she cums from looking at the pretty little bikini posts on your Instagram while her nose is filled with your scent, her tongue laps at the wet spot on your panties.

she's only worried today, about how long she's waited, when you mention how well your date went earlier that day. you hadn't stopped speaking about ellie since you walked back into the apartment this afternoon. abby tried to hide her agitation. how could you actually consider dating someone else. the thought nearly made her sick.

she'd seen it everywhere - the way you look at her, when you bring her coffee in the morning or fall asleep in her lap. you love her. and she loves you. it was simple and maybe now she needed to show you, really let you know how she felt instead of beating around the bush.

"abby?" your voice cracks the glass of her dissociation and brings her back into her body. you shift so that abby's long legs and entangles with yours. it's normal, you sit like this all the time, knees up and face to face but this time, her body so tight with need for you -- abby groans under her breath at the heat between your legs near her thinly clad thigh.

the familiar smell of your pussy dizzying her and she can't help that her hips buck. and your breath hitches when her warm cunt bumps yours.

"abby," you gulp, eyes low and meeting hers a small smile etched on her face. you've barely touched and yet your stomach is tight with lust. "tell me you want me to stop and i will," abby whispers, bucking her hips again and moaning when you meet her thrusts.

"see? baby we're made for each other," she groans at the feeling of your warm thick thighs on hers, "she could never make you feel like this." abby says very matter-of-fact. abby licks her lips and grips your thighs pulling you close and grinding her clothed pussy against yours.

"f-fuck you feel so good," abby whines, closing her thighs tight around you and watching your eyes roll back at the feeling of her winding her hips against you.

"abby - god," you groan "fuck, fuck please," you're already so desperate, your pussy wet and slippery against the lace of your panties and dampening your shorts.

"hmpfuck that's it baby, m'so glad you're finally mine," she whimpers, grunting and humping you, her blunt nails biting into your thighs. her statement flies over your head as you reach your highs, your bodies twitching as abby grinds you through your orgasms.

"god, sweet god, look at you, you're so pretty all fucked out for me," abby moans, looking over your flushed face scrunched up in the aftershocks of pleasure. abby leans down to kiss you and your tongues taste each other, sweet and wet and you're both moaning into each other's mouths.

abby's hands come to play with your nipples like she'd watched you do that once you left your door open a crack. her fingers roughly tugging and twisting your nipples as you moan, your back arching at the sweet pain. abby's hand slither down into your panties and circles your clit.

"god, you're so fucking wet," abby moans, her fingers sinking into you as you pull your shorts and panties down. abby groans at the sight of your pussy wet and swollen and swallowing her fingers all the way to the hilt and she curls them, watching your eyebrows raise and your mouth fall open.

"yeah honey? that feel good?" abby cooes, her forehead pressed against yours so she can taste your moans and squeaks when she starts strumming your clit, rubbing so quickly your breath can't keep up. she can feel you twitching erratically around her.

"cum for me, please baby i need to see you - fuck you're so beautiful," her teeth gritting and she moans as you do, your cum leaking down her wrist and abby whimpers, going down to lick and tase you. her hips humping you leg desperately as she sucks your clit into her mouth and stills her fingers if only to readjust them so she can keep fucking them into you.

you cum so quickly around her "jesus fuck, abigail," you yelp -- her full name falling from your mouth like a command and her body twitches as she cums, whimpering and moaning around you clit. tears leaking down her face as she sputters into you, fingers locking up inside you.

"god, so good -- you're so good to me abby," you gulp and abby licks her fingers and then comes up to kiss you. "i am, and i'm gonna keep you safe - treat you good, no one will ever treat you like i do, i love you baby," abby kisses you before you can reply.

her fingers sinking into you so deep again your eyes cross and when abby hears you say "i love - love it abby love you" she grunts, her fingers fucking faster into you - kissing and sucking marks into your neck and chest.

"mine," she grunts into you, "you're mine baby, not letting you go - ever," you'll agree with pretty much anything she says at this point, dizzy with pleasure you can't quite compose yourself as she clambers onto the bed and handles your legs, folding you in half and sinking her lubed cock into you.

abby bucks and snaps her hips into you. her strap stretching you, so deep your belly aches with each thrust. "god you're so fucking tight," abby moans, one hands starting to play with your nipples and then rubbing your clit and the other wrapping around your throat.

"my girl," abby whimpers with such faith as if it's the end of a prayer. your legs twitch and you hum lowly as you squirt around her, "christ, yes yes thank you baby, god give me your cum that's it," she moans, snapping her hips and then pulling out gently just to lap at your pussy, her legs falling over her shoulders.

abby has to hold you down as she cleans and licks your taste from your thighs and cunt. "good girl, so good for me," abby whines laying kisses to your mound and then belly, your breasts and chest. she kisses you neck and cheeks and eyelids. pressing a final kiss to your mouth.

"mine," abby sighs happily as you cuddle into her side.

🤫🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @emiliabby (comment to be added to tag list xx)

[irisintheafterglow]

Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)

"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"

"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?

the answer is, unfortunately, no.

"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"

"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.

you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.

"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.

"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"

"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"

"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.

"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."

"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"

"hmm?"

"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.

"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.

"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"

"yes, katsuki?"

"please get this man the fuck out of our house."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[ikkyfics]

All I've Ever Want

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Dave and you finally give in to your bottled-up feelings

Warning: a lot of kisses, sexual tension, suggestive situations, a little smut ~ maybe I'm embarrassed to post this

Masterlist

It was late, the veil of night already draping over the sky, and for a moment, you completely forgot where you were. That was until you felt a puff of warm air tickling the back of your neck. The realization of your surroundings made your cheeks flush crimson.

You remained still, analyzing the familiar interior of the room. The only source of light was the television, long forgotten, where the DVD logo lazily bounced around the screen, barely illuminating the lilac walls of the attic. To your right was an empty pizza box and soda cans, along with a stack of books and your precious pom-pom pens. The bedroom door was shut, but even so, you wondered if Mr. Lizewski had seen you with Dave on the bed.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it was no less embarrassing.

When you and your aunt moved into the house across the street, it was only a matter of time before you befriended Dave, your adorable and kind neighbor. You remembered the day you met him: Dave was all dark curls and bright blue eyes, smiling shyly beside his mother. While the adults droned on about boring things, you two hit it off, animatedly debating who was the strongest superhero in DC. After that, you became inseparable. His house became an extension of your own, and there were countless times your aunt had to carry you, half-asleep, back across the street to your bed.

Dave was as familiar as the back of your hand. For the longest time, you considered him the highlight of your days. He always knew the perfect jokes to draw out your smiles, and he was so kind, incredibly kind—though a bit of an idiot sometimes, but what could you expect from boys?

He had held you after an especially low physics grade, rubbing your back while you could do nothing but sob uncontrollably, whispering that no one cared about Torricelli and his damn equations. He kept you wrapped in his arms until you calmed down, tracing soothing circles on your back and brushing his lips affectionately against your forehead.

It was during that time you realized he wasn’t just a lanky teenager anymore. There were muscles under those clothes—and he had grown taller, with broader shoulders.

Your perception of him shifted. And before you knew it, your heart would nearly leap out of your chest whenever he got closer. Suddenly, you became very aware of him.

Damn hormones.

Of course, you refused to admit your feelings for a while. Dave was your friend and nothing more. But with every brush of his fingers, every lingering touch of his hands on you, and every conspiratorial smile, the butterflies in your stomach spun furiously.

Fuck.

You were in love.

Not that you ever confessed your erratic feelings. Absolutely not. Your friendship with Dave was too important to risk ruining it with sappy confessions. So you buried any romantic thoughts about him deep in your mind and pretended everything was normal.

Most days it was easy. With Marty and Todd acting as buffers, it was easy to forget the closeness with Dave. Even when your shoulders were pressed together in the comic book store booth and all you could think about was his scent filling your lungs. And when you stood on your tiptoes to whisper something in his ear, you certainly didn't daydream about being so close that your lips were mere millimeters from his skin. And no, you didn’t waste your precious time admiring his hands. God, you were a loser.

Your crush on Dave was in the past.

That was the lie you told yourself every day. Hoping one day it would become true.

Earlier, you had planned an afternoon of studying, a chemistry test was scheduled for next Thursday and it would be good to review organic functions. However, you and Dave quickly forgot about any problems involving ketones or methyls, snuggling on his bed with greasy slices of pizza. You had brought the Dirty Dancing CD in your bag and convinced him—forced him—to watch the movie. But apparently, you had both fallen asleep while Baby was taking her private dance lessons.

You blinked a few times, spotting the digital clock by the bed. The red numbers glowed; it was already 9:13 PM. Damn. You should be home.

Slowly, you tried to get up, only for his arms to tighten around you, holding you against his chest. Your body tensed as you realized where his hands were; the left rested on the soft curve of your waist, the right... — you swallowed —, the right hand was near your chest. Though his fingers weren’t curled around your breasts, their presence in the area was undeniable; firm and warm.

“Dave?” you whispered weakly, noticing from his lack of response that he was still deeply asleep.

With a shaky sigh, you thought about the situation you were in. It wasn’t the first time you had shared a bed or slept together; that had become a habit years ago when you were nothing more than kids addicted to movies. But now things were different. Dave was no longer a little boy. With him behind you, his body pressed perfectly against yours, it was impossible to stop your mind from wandering down sinful paths. You could feel his chest rising and falling with each slow breath, as well as his long legs tangled with yours.

It was fine, it meant absolutely nothing. All you needed to do was slide out of bed and run back home.

As you tried to move again, Dave held you tighter in his iron grip, making you gasp in surprise. When had he become so strong? You hadn’t managed to move an inch!

You shrank as he pressed his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply, sending shivers down your spine. “Dave…?” you tried again, your voice slightly firmer. “I need to…”

“Stay.” He interrupted you, his voice sleepy and raspy. So close that the blend of syllables and consonants vibrated against your skin.

When had he woken up? The realization that he was holding you of his own volition, so close to him, sent unwanted butterflies to your stomach. For a foolish moment, you wondered what would happen if your feelings were reciprocated, but you quickly pushed those thoughts away.

You turned your head, catching a glimpse of his face. The curls fell over his face, giving him an angelic look, and the closed eyelids kept you from seeing those bright irises. A relaxed, even satisfied, expression crossed his sleepy face. His soft, pink lips were slightly parted. Painfully beautiful. The sight made an involuntary smile spread across your face.

“I need to go home,” you whispered, the words shaped by a smile.

“Why?” He didn’t open his eyes, his voice still sleepy enough for you to question whether he was truly awake or caught between consciousness and the land of dreams.

“It’s late and…” With furrowed brows, you asked, “Dave, are you awake?”

“Yes—I mean, no. What difference does it make? Just stay a little longer, I can take you home after.”

Even though you lived, quite literally, across the street, Dave insisted on walking you to your front door every time. No exceptions, it was sweet. He’d cross the street with his arm around your shoulders or holding your hand casually, and then say goodbye with an adorable smile.

But you had to go home. Put some healthy distance between you and bury any depraved thoughts about him deep in your mind. And take an especially cold shower.

“I’ve stayed too long, I need to go. So be a good boy and let me go.” When he made no effort to release you, you huffed impatiently, twisting in an attempt to break free from his grip.

“It’s not enough.” He murmured, holding you so tightly that your ribs complained. You hated that a small part of you loved this little show of strength. That was it, you had serious problems.

“Dave!” You grunted, without success.

Out of breath, you sucked in air between your teeth. You could have kicked him, but his frayed nerves would hardly let him feel pain. The only alternative was to keep fighting for your freedom, and that’s what you did. Grabbing his forearms in an attempt to force him to loosen his hold, you lifted your legs off the bed and twisted desperately.

A squeak escaped your lips as he huffed in annoyance, his large hands easily spinning you on the bed, as if you were a damn rag doll, pushing your back into the mattress and quickly collapsing over your body. Trapping you definitively between his arms and legs. The bed frame creaked under the force of the impact. “Quiet.” He said, the word seeming to scrape his throat.

You froze for a moment, assessing the compromising position you were in. With Dave on top of you, between your legs, his weight fully pressing down on you, making it difficult to breathe. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding furiously against his chest. With his head pressed against your chest, his curls tickled your chin, and they smelled so good… You quickly pushed that thought away. Your face burned with embarrassment, feeling warm breaths brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

Grabbing his broad shoulders, you tried to push away, taking in air noisily. As with the other times, it was pointless. “D-Dave! I can’t breathe!”

His laugh irritated you, but when he lifted his head and looked at you with those big, bright eyes, you knew it was pointless to try to seem annoyed. “So dramatic.” He teased, though you suspected a slight blush stained his cheeks. Dave might have been acting tough now, but he was still shy and—sometimes—awkward.

You took a theatrical breath, hands still on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. “You’re heavy, you idiot!” You scolded, false irritation coloring your words.

He flinched, looking embarrassed for a few seconds. The dim light from the TV cast shadows across his face, only highlighting the edges of his features. “I wouldn’t have done that if you were a good girl and stayed quiet.”

The indulgent choice of his words made your cheeks burn. It was far too easy to imagine them in a different context, amid sighs and moans of pleasure. Damn. What was your fucking problem?

Embarrassed, you bit your lip between your teeth. “I-I... hm, I n-need to go.” You repeated, unable to meet his gaze.

“Why?” He questioned again, his voice an octave lower. His blue eyes scanned your face, daring not to move a single millimeter.

It was hard to think clearly and rationally with him so close, deliciously pressed against you. But you made an effort, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to clear your mind.

“Dave!” You laughed, shifting uncomfortably, trying to find a better position for your legs. “We’re past that phase, you know I need to go home.”

You wondered if he could hear the frenzy of your heart pounding against your ribcage. His face was absurdly close to yours. The heat radiated from his body, and his eyes—oh, God, he was looking at you now, so intensely it felt like he could see even the thoughts you hid.

“You can’t stay still, can you?” Dave murmured, his voice a mix of drowsy and husky, with a hint of humor, although his eyes carried something more—something that made the air in the room feel heavier.

You tried to laugh to break the tension, but the sound died before it could escape. He didn’t move, not even blinking, as if he were memorizing every detail of you in that moment: eyes slightly wide, the lower lip caught between your teeth, the blush coloring your cheeks treacherously.

“Dave…” Your voice came out low, almost a plea. You didn’t know exactly what you were asking for, but you needed to say something to fill the silence that only seemed to make the space between you grow.

“I just…” He quickly looked away, but his eyes returned to you almost instantly, this time focusing on your lips. The movement was so subtle you barely noticed, but your stomach flipped with the realization. He blinked, as if he had just noticed what he was doing, and the tips of his ears turned as red as the reflection of the digital clock. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... crush you.” He tried to laugh, but the sound also seemed muffled.

“It’s okay.” You managed to say, even with your uneven breathing and a million things running through your mind. But when he tried to move to get off you, your fingers—almost instinctively—grabbed the fabric of his shirt. “Wait.”

The request was spontaneous, as unexpected for you as it was for him. Dave stopped immediately, his eyes searching yours, confused and hesitant. “Wait?” He repeated, the word carrying a mix of hope and doubt.

Silence settled between you again, but this time it seemed to carry something tangible, almost electric. Your eyes fell, against your will, to his lips—and it was then you realized he was doing the same. The small smile he tried to hide with a nervous sigh only intensified the butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he suddenly muttered, so low you almost thought you imagined it. His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately started to stutter. “I mean, not crazy-crazy, but... oh, damn, I never know what to say around you, and—”

“Dave.” Your voice, firm and soft, cut through his confusion. Your eyes met again, and this time, no one looked away. You felt something warm, burning slowly in your chest, as the intensity between you became almost unbearable.

He swallowed hard, the dark curls falling slightly over his forehead and his blue eyes shining with something that seemed to be a mix of doubt and courage. He looked like he was about to say something but hesitated, his gaze lost as if searching for the right words in the air between you.

“I…” He started, his voice hoarse and low, and stopped, furrowing his brow as if in an internal battle. You didn’t say anything, feeling the tension catch your breath. The weight of him on you, though light, brought an odd sense of comfort, as if the universe had decided that this was the only place you should be.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he finally confessed, his voice coming out in a whisper so full of emotion that you felt a shiver run down your spine. His eyes wandered over your face, lingering on the curve of your lips before returning to your eyes. “Being this close to you and, at the same time, so far... it hurts.”

Your heart raced. You wanted to respond, but the intensity in his eyes made the words stick in your throat. He took a deep breath, as if he needed all the courage in the world to continue.

“I don’t just want to hold your hand.” His voice broke, almost cracking, but he kept his eyes on yours. “I want you. All of you. Every part. Not as a friend, not as someone who smiles at me and pretends not to see how trapped I am by you. I can’t do this anymore.”

You felt your heart speed up even more, and a sudden wave of courage bubbled within you. The pain and passion in his eyes reflected your own feelings so perfectly that, for the first time, you didn’t want to hide anything.

“Dave,” you started, your voice a little hesitant, but soon found its strength. “I can’t take it anymore either... pretending that everything is fine, that I can just be your friend when all I want is...” Your voice faltered, but you found his eyes again, gaining strength as you saw hope rising in them. “All I want is you.”

His lips parted in surprise, and for a moment, it seemed like he was lost. Then, before you could say anything else, he took action. In one instant, you were finishing your confession, and in the next, his lips were on yours.

The impact of the kiss sent a shiver up your spine, as if every fiber of your being had awakened at once. His lips were even softer than you had imagined, a softness almost contradictory to the urgency with which he kissed you. His taste—warm, with a touch of sweetness mixed with pure desire—filled your palate, overwhelming your senses until you lost all sense of where you ended and he began.

Your breaths mingled, warm and ragged, as if you were both fighting for air but unable to pull away. His hands found your waist, fingers tightening with enough pressure to set your skin on fire, and you felt the weight of his body pressing even more firmly against yours. The pressure was delicious, every movement making your mind spin.

You couldn’t help it; your fingers moved on their own, finding the dark curls you had always loved. They were as soft as they seemed, and you wound them between your fingers, tugging them gently. The sigh he released against your mouth was like a spark in a fire, igniting something even more intense between you.

He deepened the kiss, and you gave yourself over completely, feeling every curve of his lips, the subtle but undeniable strength of his hands holding you tight. One of his hands slid down your waist until it found the curve of your hip, fingers pressing the soft flesh with a care that was both possessive and gentle. You felt his heat against your skin like a wave, and the weight of him against you was a physical reminder that he was there, all his, with you.

It was feverish, desperate, and absolutely perfect. Your hands, which had been shy before, now explored with more confidence. Your fingers traced invisible lines on his neck, while your other hand slid down his shoulder. Each touch seemed to draw a new sigh from him, and you loved the sound, loved knowing that you could make him feel that way.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, faces so close that your breaths still mingled. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race, eyes shining as if he were seeing something sacred.

“You... have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, heavy with emotion. His lips were red and slightly swollen, and the sight made you lose yourself for a moment before responding, with a shy smile.

“I think I do,” you whispered, running your fingers lightly through his messy curls. And, as he smiled, still panting, you knew, without a doubt, that you could never live without this again.

He didn’t say anything. He just leaned in again, without hesitation, without asking for permission. The kiss that followed was not gentle or restrained; it was fierce, almost to the point of pain, filled with an urgency that made your heart pound. He kissed you as if he were a starving man, as if the moments you had just shared were not enough, as if he wanted to consume you completely.

You loved it. The impact made you lose it completely, your thoughts disintegrating as his weight pinned you to the bed, feeling his chest crush your breasts. The intensity was overwhelming, and every movement of his lips against yours made you feel like you were on the verge of falling apart. It was almost unbelievable—to be here, in his bed, where you had spent so many afternoons playing, laughing, and discussing your favorite movies and comics. That familiar space, which had once felt safe and innocent, was now imbued with something entirely new, something devastating.

Your hands, trembling and bold, began to explore. Your fingers moved up the curve of his back, feeling every muscle contract under your touch. It was dizzying, discovering how he reacted, feeling the heat of his skin under his thin shirt, realizing that he was as vulnerable as you were at that moment.

His hands, in turn, slid down the side of your body, firm and full of purpose, until they found your leg, his fingers kneading the soft flesh. When he pulled it, positioning it around his waist, you felt a shiver run through your entire body. The surprise almost made you gasp, but the gesture did not scare you — on the contrary, it awakened something even more intense inside. He held you like you were precious, but the way his fingers squeezed your thigh said something else: that he wanted you in every way possible.

When your breath finally betrayed you, he broke the kiss, but didn’t pull away. His hot breath fanned your skin, and before you could say anything, his lips were on your jaw, trailing a slow, scorching path of wet kisses down your neck. His touch sent waves of heat through your body, and you writhed slightly beneath him, unable to contain yourself, liquid heat pooling between your legs.

“You’re so beautiful…” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of emotion. Each word came between one kiss and another, his lips exploring with an almost adorable reverence. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I wanted you.”

You felt your heart tighten in your chest, a mix of emotions that seemed about to overflow. He stopped for a moment, just to look at you. His gaze was filled with something raw, sincere, and made you want to never leave the damn bed again.

“I love being the reason for your sighs,” he said softly, his fingers tracing a soft pattern on your skin, where he had mistreated it before. “I love seeing you like this… and knowing that, for the first time, I can say that you are mine.”

His words were like an echo of your own thoughts, and you could hardly believe that this was happening. There, in that moment, it was as if all the lost time had finally been recovered, as if every unconfessed desire had found its answer.

“Dave…” His name escaped your lips like a sigh, full of desire and emotion, before you pulled him back to you. The kiss that followed was just as devastating as the previous ones, but this time you were the one leading, the one setting the pace. Your fingers slid into his messy curls, holding them firmly as your lips met in a feverish, passionate clash. You heard a hoarse sound, almost a moan, escape him as his fingers tugged at your hair, which only served to further ignite the fire that burned inside you.

For a moment, you pulled away just enough to watch him. The blush on his cheeks spread across his face, his lips were red and swollen from so many kisses, shining under the soft light of the room. His hair, always a little messy, now seemed completely untamed, and you couldn’t help but smile a little at the thought that this was all your fault. He was beautiful, and the sight of him like that—vulnerable, surrendered, and yet filled with an almost raw intensity—made something inside you shiver.

You wrapped your other leg around him, holding him tighter against you, as if the world might suddenly intervene and tear you apart. The movement caused his weight to shift, pressing him even tighter against you, and it sent a rush of liquid heat through your body. A noise rasped in his throat at your movement, his body tensing as he pressed against the softness of your body. It felt like instead of blood, fire was coursing through your veins, every fiber of your being ablaze at the closeness, at the way he touched you, the way his lips sought yours as if they were the only thing that mattered.

His hands were no longer hesitant. One held tightly to your waist, while the other slowly moved up your sides, as if he wanted to map every inch of you. There was strength in his touch, as if he wanted to mark you somehow, as if he wanted you to feel that moment on your skin even after it had passed. When he leaned down to your collarbone and began to place small bites on your neck, your breath caught. Each bite felt carefully placed, not just as a show of desire, but as a silent promise that he was there, that he wanted you completely.

You arched your body against his, unable to control the reactions he was eliciting. Your nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him even closer, desperate for any friction. The space between you was nonexistent, but it still felt like it would never be enough. Every touch, every kiss, every sigh that escaped you was filled with an overflowing urgency, as if years of pent-up feelings had finally found their way to the surface.

“You’re a dream,” he murmured, his lips moving against your skin, his voice so low and husky that you could barely hear him. The confession made something inside you melt, even as your hands explored his back, every muscle that moved beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

He looked at you again, his eyes bright and full of an emotion you could barely name, and you knew he felt exactly the same as you: that this moment, so charged with intensity, was something neither of you wanted to end.

Then, without hesitation, he kissed you again, and this time there was a desperate urgency in his movements, as if he needed your lips to breathe. The way he pressed you against the bed, with the weight of his body and the strength of the kiss, made your heart race and your thoughts disintegrate, leaving only the feeling of having him so close.

His hand, previously hesitant, slowly descended to the hem of the shirt you were wearing. He paused for a moment, as if asking for silent permission, but the look you gave him, full of surrender and desire, was all he needed. His fingers slid beneath the fabric, finding the soft skin of your waist, and the touch was like an electric shock that ran through your body. You shivered against him, unable to contain your reaction, and he smiled against your lips, as if he loved the effect he had on you.

His weight was crushing and yet comforting. You could barely move beneath him, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, you didn’t want to move; you just wanted to feel, to absorb everything he was offering. It was a weakness unlike any you’d ever felt, a numbness that wasn’t numbness but complete surrender. He was all that filled your mind, every thought, every beat of your heart.

His other hand moved down to your hip, gripping it tightly enough to make you gasp. You could tell he was trying to hold something back, to keep you from moving against the bulge in his pants. But you couldn’t feel him pressed against your core—the way he held you, the way his fingers gripped your flesh with a kind of almost feral need, said it all. That realization made your pussy clench around nothing, starving for any attention.

You couldn’t help it; your hands started moving again, exploring his arms, moving up his chest, trying to memorize every contour as your own desires grew in intensity. He seemed intoxicated, his kisses growing deeper and more desperate, as if he wanted to mark you with each one. And when his lips finally pulled away from yours to come up for air, it was only for a moment, before they went back down to find any patch of sensitive skin.

The soft bites he placed on your skin were like spreading flames, each one more intense than the last. You felt his lips form words against your skin, a low, husky whisper that made you shiver. “You’re mine… you’ve always been mine.”

The sound of those words, along with his overwhelming weight and presence, made you feel like you were going to lose your breath completely. Everything around you seemed to disappear except for him—Dave, who was no longer trying to hold back, who wanted you as desperately as you wanted him. And you knew there was no going back; not after this.

With his eyes fixed on yours, Dave let his fingers work at the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up, as if he wanted to savor every second. When the fabric was finally ripped away, he stopped, staring at you with an intensity that made your heart race. The silence that followed seemed to vibrate with something unspoken as he simply admired you, watching your chest rise and fall with each ragged breath, the shape of your breasts covered by a thin bra that left little to the imagination. His mouth felt dry.

You felt the heat of his gaze travel over your exposed skin, and embarrassment began to creep in, but then he broke the silence, his voice low and husky. “You’re beautiful… so beautiful.” His words were filled with a caress that made you feel completely disarmed, and you realized that you had nothing to be ashamed of. The desire in his eyes was so evident, so overwhelming, that it made your own fears evaporate.

His fingers lightly touched the edge of your bra, tracing a soft, almost reverent path. The touch seemed to set your skin on fire, and the heat that ran through your veins was almost too much to bear. You arched your body involuntarily, moving towards him, a low moan escaping your lips without permission as you felt him press his cock harder against you.

His hands returned to exploring your body with increasing urgency, pulling your bra down instead of removing it from your body. His fingers kneaded your breasts, seeking the pressure that made you purr like a kitten. When he buried his face in your chest, he wasted no time in mouthing the sensitive flesh, sucking on the hard tip until you whimpered. He seemed to want to devour you, and the frenzy that this aroused in you made your pussy respond, staining your panties with more of your arousal. Your own fingers roamed his torso, exploring every line, every muscle that contracted under his touch.

He paused for a moment, staring at you with a silent question in his eyes, his mouth redder than ever. A look that said it all—he wanted to make sure you were okay, that this was what you wanted. His response was instinctive, almost automatic. You writhed beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders, your voice shaky and urgent. “Dave… I want you. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you again, this time harder, more eager, as if he wanted to take you in completely. His lips left yours only so he could move down to your neck again, exploring every inch with hot kisses and soft bites that made you tremble. Only then did he grind his hips against yours, groaning against your skin as he established a rhythm. The seam of your pants brushed against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You felt his fingers tighten around your waist, as if he wanted to mark you right then and there. Your body responded automatically, moving against his, every nerve ending burning with urgent need. Your hands moved lower, finding the waistband of his pants, hesitating only for a moment before undoing the button, your fingers trembling as you unzipped him. He shivered when you touched him, feeling his cock twitch against your fingers. Dave groaned your name as you circled the pre-cum-covered tip. Your own body reacted to it, imagining what it would be like to have him stretching you from the inside, slamming against your cervix. Your toes curled at the thought.

“Dave?” Mr. Lizewski’s voice came from the other end, casual but loud enough to make your heart race for an entirely different reason. Your fingers stilled instantly, terrified at the thought of being caught in this situation. “Is everything okay in there?”

Dave reacted instantly, his body tensing as he hurried to cover yours with his, his arms wrapped around you like a shield. “Yes, Dad! It’s okay, it’s okay!” he replied, his voice louder and more hurried than usual.

You held your breath as Dave looked at the door, a blush staining his face. His eyes met yours briefly, shame and embarrassment reflected in his features, before he called out again, “It’s okay in here!”

The silence that followed was brief, but it felt endless, until Mr. Lizewski spoke again, and this time there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Is your friend in the room with you, Dave?”

Dave froze, his eyes meeting yours once more. His gaze was intense, as if he were weighing what to say, and it made your heart race again, but not from nervousness—this time it was from something deeper. The intensity of that moment, the way he was looking at you, almost took away what little breath you had left. His hand that remained on your hip left a reassuring caress.

Finally, he answered, casually, “Yes, Dad, my girlfriend is here.” Your mouth fell open in surprise at his words, your heart beating painfully fast. Girlfriend. Girlfriend! Dave gave you a crooked smile, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to contradict him. You didn’t. He pressed his face against yours, his lips gently pressed against your jaw.

Mr. Lizewski chuckled from the other side of the door, which made you bury your face in your hands in sheer embarrassment. “Well, her aunt called to ask her to come home. Apparently she needs help with the roast or something.”

You tried not to groan in embarrassment as you answered, your voice sounding thinner than you would have liked. “Oh, thanks, Mr. Lizewski. I’ll be right there.”

The sound of his father’s footsteps walking away was followed by a tense silence that was broken when they both started laughing at the same time, unable to contain the mix of relief and embarrassment they felt.

Dave lowered his head and kissed you again, this time gently, his lips sealing a silent promise. “We’ll keep this up,” he murmured, his voice low and husky against yours.

He picked up your shirt from the floor and helped you put it on, your hands still a little shaky as you tried to fix your messy hair and disheveled clothes. “There,” he said with an embarrassed smile, looking at the damage he had done to your skin. It would take days for the marks to fade. “I think everything is fine… or almost.”

Later, when he drove you home, the nervousness returned, but this time it was mixed with something else—a certainty. At the door, as you prepared to enter, Dave stopped, his eyes fixed on yours once more.

Unlike all the times before, he leaned in and kissed you, a brief, sweet touch that made your heart melt. "Good night, girlfriend," he whispered, with that shy but meaningful smile.

[apricitae-world]

MAKE UP TO YOU

XAVIER'S "FLUFF ATTACK" INSPIRED FANFIC; F!MC AND M!XAVIER;

The following post has sexual content! Includes: kissing, praise kink, nipple teasing, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex. All characters in this fanfic are consenting adults. Proceed carefully and do not attempt to recreate these situations in real life.

If you would like to help me keep posting content like this, consider tipping me on Ko-Fi!

This is my first smut fanfic and comments are appreciated!

To be fair, it took you a second too long to notice Xavier went missing. There were so many beautiful cat butlers around you, fighting for your attention until your vision was crowded with car ears and tails.

They weren't what (or who) you were looking for. But no matter how many times your eyes scanned the room, the messy blond hair of your lover was nowhere to be seen. Where could he be?

Your train of tought was interrupted when another fluffly head plopped beside you. A young man with black fur looked intensely into you, approaching very slowly.

"Sorry, I'm not interested." This was not the first (and you suspected not the last) time a cat paced around the room looking for attention. It was your idea to have this kind of date with Xavier, but now you regretted it terribly.

The man's fluffy ears went down, and he quietly got up to be somewhere else. You sighed in relief. Why wasn't Xavier with you? Did he find a caretaker he liked more for this event? The tought made you sad.

You get up and try to sneak outside. The afternoon sun greets your skin in a pleasant way, and the chirp of birds is a nice change of pace compared to the consistent buzz of the ar conditioner.

Soft sunrays illuminate a head you know very well. He was hidding behind a big bush full of flowers, and you almost didn't see him if not for the lovely tail creeping behind it.

"Hello, Xavier. I was looking for you." His ears flicked like butterflies. He definitely heard you, but didn't turn around. Was he... upset?

"Why are you out here? Too many people inside?" You gently run your hands through his lower back, creeping up until you squeeze his shoulders and reach his new cat ears. Your fingertips explore the skin from base to tip, and Xavier shudders.

"Oh." He begins. "So now you remember to be gentle with my ears." The puzzle pieces begin to fall into place. Right at the beggining of the evening, you might had tugged at his ears a little too strongly.

You mutter a "oh, no" and your caresses stop. When your lover turns around, his blush spreads from his cheek to beneath his collarbones. Tail moving like a whip behind him, he inquiries:"We don't stop halfway when it comes to these things, right?"

"If I pet your ears the way you like, will you forgive me?" A smile creeps on his face. He positions closer to you and lowers his head. "I am sorry for tugging at your beautiful ears earlier, babe" He almost headbutts your hand and comes closer. "You are so cute like this I lost my sense of strenght." He is gasping in your hold. "Can I make up to you?"

"Yes. Yes yes please." His hand finds yours, and they slowly travel to his chest. You snuggle your palm between his pecs and he moans quietly. You look down for a moment and see his hard-on through his breefs.

"Can my lovely cat butler answer me something?" You move your fingers slightly to the side and find his erect nipples. You gently tease them through his shirt while he gasps, pupils overpowering the blue in his eyes. "Where you jealous?"

Xavier gags. "No." He tries to distract you by reaching under your own shirt. Desire was already pooling in your lower stomach since you heard his beautiful sounds.

"Then why did you run away? Did I neglect my most precious butler?" He stops and you use this as an opportunity to run your hands lower, holding his waist. "Y-your most precious? Don't you have others?" There is no bite behind his question, just hurt.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You palm at his erection. "You're my favorite." He moans louder this time. "And I can show you."

In the blink of an eye, you remove his pants and bend down. "Oh God, right there..." He guides your head as you give kitten licks across his shaft. You moisture the slick and saliva before attempting to put his lenght in your mouth.

"I don't want you to spend time with the other stupid cat butlers anymore." He hiccups every time you suck his dick and there are tears trailing down his eyes. "I want you to be with me and only me." He gives a few shallow thrusts in your mouth and reaches his peak.

"Okay." You reply after (almost) recovering your voice and your breath. In a second, you are wrestled to the ground and feel a hot mouth on yours. Xavier rubs his angry pink erection on your stomach, still seeking relief.

He tries to grind onto you and lower your pants at the same time. As graceless as that may be, he is holding your thighs and approaching your soaking core in no time. "I want to taste my favourite thing too."

You scream when he begins to eat you out. His saliva and your juices make wet slurping sounds echo through the garden. He insistently runs his tongue flat both against your entrance and your clit. You won't last long if he keeps going like this.

"Xavie, you're still hard. You don't have to do this if you don't wan-" He interrupts you by making out fervorously with your pussy. You look into his eyes and he sucks on your clit when you do.

You explode in his mouth and he drinks it like it's the air he needs to breathe. There's no way of being sure wich way is up or down while you ride the waves of your orgasm.

"Can we go one more? I need you." His erection nudges you. Both your lips meet gently this time, but that too becomes desperate as you cling to each other.

"Yes. I would never deny my star anything." He lines up at your entrance and gathers moisture from your release. His head slowly enters and you're already out of breath. "You're so special to me, you know that?"

Halfway. There's a drop of sweat running through your forehead. "You feel so good missed you so much wanna fuck you so bad." He mumbles as he tries not to go all the way in one thrust. Your heat envelops him so deliciously.

"I need you too, Xavier. So hurry up and just-" You meet his thrust and he bottoms out with a groan. "So full. Wanna be so good for you!"

He begins to move and there are stars under your eyelids. "I also have to tell you a secret." He confesses. His deft fingers run to your clit and begin playing with it.

"You're my favorite too." Relief washes over you. Of course Xavier loves you and vice versa, but hurting him is the last thing on your mind, even if inevitable.

"No going away." He commands. "I want you to feel this. To be here all the time with me". He is being such a bully, cock nuzzled deep inside and trying to split you in half. The way he kisses and sucks every patch of skin he can find is such a contrast to what you two are doing.

"My star, I'm close-" He gasps and digs his hands on your hips to ground himself. "Can I finish inside?"

"Yes, come inside. I want you to fill me up!" The tought and Xavier's thrust are also sending you over the edge quicker than what you would like to admit. His dick twitches for the last time and your insides are painted white.

The feel of his release pumping inside is the last push it takes for you to reach your second orgasm. Both of you scream as your peak flows through.

When you regain your senses, Xavier's body is coiled around you like a snake. His tail is also holding one of your legs in place. You hear soft snores coming from the person beside you, and his temperature is slightly warmer than yours.

"Xavier? My love, we have to get up." His ears flicker like butterflies, but he doesn't open his eyes. "It's already night."

Stars shimmer above you. It is possible to discern some constellations, even close to Linkon's city pollution. "We can take a nap at home." That seems to be a good enough argument for Xavier, since he opens his eyes and carries you in his arms in a flash.

"I can't believe inviting you for a nap is the best way for you to do something." He quirks his eyebrows in a mischievious way. "I can also be persuaded with snacks."

Of course.

Even if, eventually, you will have to go back to your life in Linkon, and Xavier won't have his beautiful cat features anymore, you are sure your relationship is stronger because of the moments you shared. As long as you can figure out what to do. Together.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 115 (Getting Cozy With New Friends?)

The events of this post occurred after New Year's Eve at the Salty Paw (Generation 2 Pts. 106 and 107).

After an eventful holiday season, Heather Nesbitt phoned her youngest sister on New Year's Day. Hazel checked the call display and forced a smile. "Hey Big Sis, what are you up to?"

"Hey, Little Dandelion. Just watching the Holiday Yule Log on repeat (totally autonomously) before I do some bookkeeping for the clinic. Helps me focus, and they haven't taken it off the air yet this year. How are you doing?"

"Pretty awful," Hazel admitted. "I'm sorry we just left without saying goodbye last night. We were too busy giving each other the cold shoulder all the way back to Henford."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got home safely, but I know things between you aren't okay. I think we all hoped things would get better after you talked on Winterfest Day."

"We didn't really talk. We skated and went home and just didn't fight for a few days."

Heather frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hazel shook her head. "Not right now. I want to have a nap and then get out of the house for the night. It's weird being here surrounded by her family all the time. I feel like her mother and brother are constantly judging me."

"They love Nicola like we love you," Heather said. "But she shouldn't talk to you like she does. You don't deserve it. I'm willing to bet that a lot of what she's going through isn't even really about you."

Hazel sighed. "I just make it all worse."

Heather loved her baby sister and would always support her, but she never would have advised Hazel's next move.

To end a New Year's Day where Hazel spent as much time avoiding Nicola and her family as possible, she found herself drinking screwdrivers at the pub that night. She was alone, again, until she met Suri Romeo and flirted over drinks until well after midnight.

When the pub closed, they continued with a stroll along the River Bagley. The place near the village green, which had earlier that day been packed with locals for the annual Polar Bear Swim, was devoid of any lamplights, but Hazel could still make out Suri's smile in the light of the moon. "Are you happily married, Hazel?"

She didn't want to answer and pulled Suri in for a kiss. It felt electric - nothing like the kisses she shared with her wife. Not now, and maybe not ever.

But she thought of Nicola back home, probably asleep and snoring a little. Her wedding vows meant she wasn't supposed to do this, and she pulled away with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "My wife."

Suri nodded with an understanding smile. "I'm living with my grandparents at their farm in Old New Henford. Call me when you figure out some things."

But Hazel called Suri long before she had anything "figured out," inviting her to the first Finchwick Fair of the new year. "I have to be there with Mayor Varner, but it's really a great opportunity for you to live like a true Henford local," she told Suri, and they met outside the village green on a sunny winter afternoon.

"Did your wife not want to be here?" Suri wondered.

"She's grading papers and the Finchwick Fair isn't really her thing. She loves gardening, but she hasn't done much of it lately." Nicola recalled the woman she used to know with some regret before quickly brushing it away and returning her focus to Suri. "Here, I saw this video that made me think of you. It's a cat, but he's a chef. It's called ChefCat!"

They were interrupted by friendly Mayor Varner, who was happy to meet anyone in his town at any time. "Hello there! I'd never miss a new face!"

"Mayor Varner, this is Suri Romeo. She's just moved to town to learn to be a great chef from her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen."

"Ah! The Bjergsens are wonderful citizens! And your grandmother's baked goods are the reason I'm out of shape."

Suri smiled. "Hopefully one day I'll be just as good as she is."

"You'll have a wonderful mentor. Welcome to town, Miss Romeo!" He turned to a starry-eyed Nicola. "How are those new year's reports coming, Hazel?"

"I should be done this week, sir. It's a lot of information to put together."

He frowned. They both knew he'd expected those reports on his desk last week, but the work was a drag, and he'd given her too many previous extensions. She forced a smile for her boss.

When it got a little cooler, Hazel and Suri went inside the pub to warm up. They danced to some holiday music still playing on the in-house stereo, before Hazel pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling. "Laura must've forgotten to take this down with the rest of the Winterfest decorations," she mused, but she held it playfully over her head anyway. Suri laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Hazel glanced around. The bar was mostly empty with most patrons enjoying the fair outside, but they knew they shouldn't be spotted doing what they were doing.

They continued to see one another in secret, hanging out at the community garden in Old New Henford to get to know one another. Suri told Hazel about life growing up in an apartment in San Myshuno with her parents and brothers, and about visits to Henford to see her grandparents and aunts every summer. She even told her about her mother's cousin Olivia, who was a basketball star at Foxbury Institute.

Hazel was happy to talk about her family - her parents, her sisters, her brother, all her in-laws and nieces and nephews - but not her wife. And she knew her friendship with Suri was dangerous. She wanted Suri all to herself and didn't want her wife to know anything about her.

As the snow melted beneath her jacket, Hazel would cloudgaze (even in Henford's mild, sunny winter climate) and imagine herself with Suri. Not Nicola.

She knew marriage counseling was the best course of action, but when she looked at Nicola, she didn't want to do it. When Suri entered her life, she could finally admit to herself what she'd tried to mask for years. Hazel was no longer attracted to her objectively beautiful wife, and no amount of counseling would bring her feelings back.

She grew increasingly careless in her time spent with Suri. She told Suri she wanted out, but conversations with Nicola these days always ended in tears. She didn't tell anyone what was going on because she knew they'd tell her to be better. To talk to Nicola, to end things with Suri before they went too far, to be a bigger person. She'd lost her will to care about any of it.

On Sportsball Sunday, Hazel wanted to go to the Gnome's Arms to watch the game. River had invited her to her childhood home, but Suri would be at the pub. She was getting ready to go when her girlfriend surprised her at home in the Bramblewood.

"What are you doing here? I was just leaving."

"I came to tell you my little cousin Jada heard at school that you and I are seeing each other."

Hazel froze. If kids at school were talking about Mrs. Moody-Nesbitt's wife having an affair, then... Sure enough, Nicola met them in the yard with a churlish grin.

"Oh good! You're both here, so I only need to get mad once before I forget either of you and leave while Hazel packs her things."

Hazel was quiet, letting Nicola unleash a torrent of disappointment at her affair. "It kills me Hazel. I wanted a family with you. It's all we talked about for years, but then I lost my dad and you cheated. And I found out at work, which is so embarrassing! My schedule was never the problem when it came to counseling. I worked the same schedule every day, I came home - you're the one who always had somewhere else to be."

Hazel was defeated and ready to leave, and she apologized for embarrassing her. "I shouldn't have been with Suri behind your back, but what are we really salvaging anymore, Nic? I'm sorry."

Nicola scowled. "Oh, you're done? Hazel, I already got the divorce papers from the courthouse. Sign them and get out of my house."

Though Nicola put on a confident facade while she took the initiative to end their union, they both left the marriage with regrets. They could have tried harder, if they were really meant to be. But more than anything, they could have waited to get married. Maybe then they'd never have married at all, and their differences wouldn't have been so hard to take.

And now, with the sunny weather betraying their broken hearts, Hazel Nesbitt and Nicola Moody-McMillan had shared their last cozy celebrations together.

How would each move on from here? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

The answers to that question! Nicola's next chapter begins here as a contestant on Dating Deanna, a reality TV series debuting in January by @changingplumbob, where dozens of contestants will compete for the heart of beautiful bachelorette Deanna York.

Hazel lives with the Nesbitt-Gordons for now, so we'll follow her story with Heather and her crew in Sims In Bloom!

This was hardly cozy, but I've written a couple surprise bonus posts for tomorrow/my Christmas Day that are much more fun, and they finish off the reward event with a lot less angst and drama!

NOTE: For the record, I believe in working on a marriage, but Hazel and Nicola's compatibility was awful once Lovestruck patched in. They truly grew apart, not at all together, and didn't have enough desire to put in the work to save their short-lived marriage. Then Hazel met Suri and they were flirty and got along so much better, so I figured she and Nicola might both be happier without each other and they divorced.

While Hazel has a potential someone, I was trying to think about what to do with Nicola when Dating Deanna was announced. I thought this was perfect because now I don't have to plot her next chapter, and if she doesn't win Deanna's heart she'll return with new lore and backstory to write for.

I know she has few fans these days and that's fine! But when she's with the right person and not cheated on (entering a bachelorette competition could really test her), Nicola will put in the work. She's too good and family oriented not to. Hazel, on the other hand, should possibly reckon with why she chose to cheat and not leave...

[luza-wayne]

drunk talk.

bokuto koutarou x reader

wc: 1.3k

i like the little hurt i felt, rereading this fufu. i remembered i posted this on one of my old tmblr acc. pls request to me, i'm begging T^T

you were woken up from your afternoon nap when you heard your phone went off continuously. you grumpily reached for it on the nightstand just beside the bed.

as if a spell was cast on you, your expression immediately lit up, when you saw the notification.

bokuto has been more expressive and more clingy this past week. he does things like staring at you while you do work and he'd always bring you sweets and flowers every time he came home.

just yesterday, he brought you another necklace.

though you want to know why he's like that, you don't mind it, in fact, you love it. that's why you make sure to show him how much you love him too.

you looked at the time on your phone and it's already quarter to five.

i guess i should clean up the house. you thought as you fixed your hair and stood up.

...

*ding dong* 

you were woken up from your slumber for the second time today when the sound of the doorbell rang throughout the living room of the house you shared with your boyfriend.

ah bad. i fell asleep while cleaning. 

you drowsily rubbed your eyes as you walked to the door, not minding the unfinished work.

you opened it and there was akaashi looking so done with his life, while your partner hanged on his left shoulder.

“akaashi, did he drink that much?” you said looking at him pitifully.

“yeah,” he stated. “...but he's acting weird today.”

you wanted to ask what he meant, but you told him to get in first to at least place bokuto on the couch and rest his shoulder.

he softly throws his previous captain on the couch as you take off bokuto's shoes. when you came back from putting the footwear on the shoe rack, you offered akaashi water.

“hey, what do you mean earlier?” you asked him, worried that bokuto might be having a problem.

“normally, he would be so energetic and loud, but today he just drank and drank. i immediately noticed it, that's why i didn't drink too much because i'm sure he'll be too drunk later on.” akaashi explained and chugged on the water you gave him.

you looked at bokuto and you noticed how troubled his expression is, even though he's sleeping.

“did he tell you anything?” you queried the editor who’s looking at bokuto.

“sadly, he passed out before i could ask him anything.” he sighed and fixed his glasses.

after you talked a bit to akaashi, he bid farewell to you, since he has work tomorrow. you sent him off while thanking him for looking out for the drunk guy on your couch.

you went to the bathroom after to get a bowl and towel to clean up bokuto. you crouched beside the couch and slowly took his arm.

you successfully wiped it, so went to the other arm. as you reached for it, you suddenly froze when he groaned.

“hm? who you?” he questioned looking at you suspiciously.

here it is again. every time bokuto is drunk, he always fails to recognize anyone. anyone. 

“ah. i was with akaashi. you're akaashi, right?” he wanted to confirm, but you just smiled at him and offered him water, but he refused.

he turned his body to the side, he's facing the backrest of the couch and his arm dangled on the edge of it.

“akaashi…” he called even though akaashi's not there.

you just decided to go along with it, hoping you'd catch something funny that you can tell him tomorrow once he comes to his senses.

“yes?” you answered, putting a low tone to your voice.

“i want to ask you something.” he said, not moving from his current position.

“what is it?”

“i don't know what to do.” 

“about what? tell me.” you listened to him intently.

is he going to talk about what's bothering him?

“actually, i love (y/n)...” you replied with a hum.  “but…” he refutes.

but?

he changed his position again and now he's facing the ceiling with his arms covering his eyes. this is the first time you saw him this serious while drunk.

“i love her, but i don't love her.” he whispered and bit his lips.

“what?” you were unsure whether you heard it right or not.

i must’ve misheard it, but i’m pretty sure i didn’t. what is he talking about?

“what do you mean?” you let go of the towel accidentally making it land on the bowl, splashing water on its surroundings.

“what i mean is that i'm not feeling the same way as before. i love (y/n), but it's not the same love i'm feeling from before.” he said, his lips were quivering and his voice was a bit shaky.

“i'm trying, akaashi. i'm trying to bring back the love. i’m doing the things i did when we were still new to the relationship. i'm hoping the love would come back, but…” a tear fell on the side of his eyes, down to his ears. 

“what if it doesn't come back?” his voice was getting quieter and quieter.

“what if my love for her fades away?” he sobs.

you just stood there looking at him talking. a lot of information came in at once, it seems like your mind can't keep up.

he doesn't feel the same anymore? so the reason he's been extra sweet lately is that he wanted to revive his feelings for me? 

you let out a laugh and comb your hair with your fingers.

“what are you laughing for, akaashi?” he fixed his position, sat on his butt and looked up at you, even though his eyes were still blurry.

“nothing. it's just, (y/n) thought nothing of it when you were extremely sweet and clingy, though she loves it, now she feels like shit knowing what was the reason.” you tried to finish what you were saying, while also trying to keep the tears from falling.

he confusedly looked at you. you cleared your throat and clenched your hand.

“why don't you just tell her the truth? that you've already fallen out of love?” he lowered his head and placed both of his hands on the sides of his head.

“but, i promised her forever.”

he said, vocals almost inaudible, because of how shaky it is. anyone who can see him right now, can tell that what he's showing right now is what he really feels deep inside him.

“i promised that to her, and i still don't want her to be sad.” he clasped both of his hands.

“but you shouldn't lead me on that you're still mine because that hurts much more thinking all your i love you's are genuine, but it isn't. it’s not love, if you’re faking it.” 

you sighed heavily, you felt as if your legs lost all their power, you suddenly wanted to sit down. you did, but on the floor right in front of your boyfriend.

you looked at him while cries and worried about what to do with himself for minutes and minutes.

it seems like he sobered up. 

you smiled weakly and reached for his cheeks. you noticed how he melted into it, now you know that he's really back to his senses.

“babe…?” he muttered and looked at you. 

you saw how his eyes showed terror now that he'd realized that the one he's talking to all the time was you and not akaashi.

“b-babe, i—” he held your hand that was on his face, but you pulled it out of his grip.

you nodded slowly, smiling at him.

“shh. it's okay. we can talk about it tomorrow. you should take a rest for now.” you said and walked towards your guy's room, refusing to let even a drop of tear fall in front of him.

bokuto watched as you took each step. what he's feeling right now doesn't seem right. 

it is as if you're walking away from him for good, but he feels like he should run after you. 

but, shouldn't he feel that way if he had already fallen out of love, right?

thank you so much for reading! reblogs would much appreciated!

also, you can visit my ko-fi acc, if you'd like to tip me and help this broke college student (>//3//<)

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 7

Hello! It was a bit of a rough morning for me with the hate I got earlier. Maybe I could have worded it nicer, but I'm tired of gatekeepers that think everything ever has to be canon inspired, but if you have a difference of opinion about what is canon then them you're delusional.

And then my son nearly fainted at his school singing program this afternoon. He got sent home yesterday due to being over emotional at school (couldn't stop crying), but we thought it was just a bad mental health day. Apparently not.

So it was a little hard wanting to post today, even though I have a backlog of 15 chapters across 5 stories because I was feeling overly emotional.

So I hope you enjoy a little bit of sexy times for our boys. I told you I'd bring Eddie back sooner, rather than later.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  

18+ Under the Cut

****

Eddie was in his room trying to nail down the bridge on a song he was writing when he heard a small scratching noise at the front door. He set his guitar aside and listened closely.

There it was again.

He wasn’t expecting anyone today. He got up warily and was at the door in an instant. He looked through the peephole and huffed out a laugh.

He opened the door and leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“You barely left me last night and you’re already at my door step again?” he teased.

There was that wolfie laugh Eddie adored so much.

“Come on in before the twins next door think you’re a doggy to play with and chase you all over the trailer park.”

Steve laughed again and Eddie shook his head, moving to the side to let his boyfriend in.

Steve shifted back to human and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck loosely. “Hey baby.”

Eddie purred. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Even though he knew that Steve being naked wasn’t a sexual thing, it didn’t stop him from grabbing that beautiful bare ass anyway.

He dived into Steve’s lips kissing and licking his way into that perfect mouth.

Steve’s arms tightened around Eddie’s neck, grinding against the hard planes his body. He wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist and let him carry him into the bedroom.

He kicked the door closed and proceeded to have his wicked way with him.

Once they had come several times and had finally wore themselves out, Eddie rolled over on his back and huffed out a laugh.

“I know you didn’t just come over to fuck,” he said, throwing his arm over his eyes, “so what’s the real reason for the visit?”

Steve laughed. “You are very distracting, you know?”

Eddie grinned. “It’s that ass, baby. I just can’t get enough.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said. He rolled over on his side to look at him. “You know how it was Josh’s first day with the pack?”

Eddie immediately straightened up and looked down at Steve. “Yeah? How did that go?”

“He’s a good kid and I don’t think we’ll have any problem with him,” Steve hummed.

“But...” Eddie asked, tilting his head forward.

Steve sat up and wrapped one arm around his knees. “When you were growing up did you have any days where the teachers would talk about supernatural kind? But not like on days the supernatural kids would be there?”

Eddie sat up too and frowned. He thought hard. “You know, now that you mention it, there were days like that. It was straight up bullshit, so I never really paid attention...” His eyes went wide. “Shit you don’t think that’s why Jason and them went apeshit, do you? The shit they were learning about on moon days?”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know. It worries me that they’re getting anything like that at all.”

Eddie nodded. “I don’t know of anyone who’s not supernatural, not anymore.”

Steve lifted his head. “Yes you do. The drummer of your band, what was it called, Carrion Coffin or something?”

“Corroded Coffin,” Eddie gently corrected.

“That’s the one,” Steve said, snapping his fingers. “I know Jeff is a vampire like you and Brian is some other supernatural being...”

“Siren,” Eddie said, rubbing his chin. “I’ve always suspected Gareth might be a supe of some sort, but I could never confirm it.”

“But if he’s still going to school,” Steve said hopefully, “and not allowed to take moon days off due to whatever kind of supe he is, then he might be able to do some recon for us.”

Eddie nodded. “I have band practice tomorrow, I’ll ask. Maybe Brian remembers something, too.”

Steve sagged in relief. “Thanks sweetheart. I appreciate it. If the schools are indoctrinating kids against supes that might explain the rise in hunters over the last few decades.”

“Leading to whatever the hell it was that happened to you...” Eddie said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, because why a cross?” Steve said. “Crosses are vampire lore, not werewolf.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I’ll talk to Wayne about it when he gets home. Maybe he can get more out of Patrick and Jason tomorrow, too.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve murmured. “That’s weight off my mind.”

Eddie grinned. “Now where were we?”

Steve laughed and then tackled his boyfriend back to his bed. He straddled Eddie’s waist. “You are insatiable, you know that?”

Eddie snapped his jaws at Steve playfully. “You love it.”

Steve moved up enough so that Eddie’s cock caught on Steve’s taint, causing Eddie to gasp.

“Oh, so that how you want to play it, pretty boy,” he growled, slowly pushing Steve backwards onto his cock until Steve bottomed out.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve whined. “I love the way you fill me.”

Eddie lifted him up and then snapped him back down his cock. “I love the way you look when you’re stuffed with my dick, sweetheart. I love the whimpering mess you become when I fuck you so hard. But you’re on top this time, so show me what you’ve got.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

He started off slow, allowing the drag of Eddie’s cock to come almost all the way out before slamming back down onto his hips.

“Like that, Stevie,” Eddie said his voice husky with desire. “Just. Like. That.”

Steve nodded. He kept up the slow pace, grinding up and down, touching his throat, his chest, his stomach, his thighs, everywhere but his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie cooed. “You putting on a show for me?”

Steve nodded, biting down on his lip. He ran his fingers through his hair and then back down his body.

Eddie was about to explode from the sight alone. His last ounce of control snapped and he flipped them over.

Steve let out a gasp of surprise. “Too much for you, rockstar?”

“Not even close to being enough, sweet cheeks,” he growled and then starting railing him hard and fast.

Soon Steve was spilling on his belly as he watched Eddie chase his own release.

Moments later Eddie was stock still as he filled Steve, his eyelashes fluttered shut and his breath came out in a shuddering sigh.

They were drenched in sweat, Steve was covered in come, and they both panted for breath.

Eddie slipped out and flopped on the bed next to Steve. “Fuck, I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Steve giggled. “Supernatural sex tends to be better because we have better stamina, strength, and flexibility then humans do.”

Eddie rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Despite what this town thinks I was no blushing virgin coming into this relationship, babe. I’ve been with human, siren, and werewolf–” Steve opened his mouth to ask but Eddie held up his hand, “no one you know, I promise. This is at a supernatural bar in Indy. But I have never had sex like when I’m with you. It makes all the noise in my head fade to the background.”

Steve smiled. “I’m glad. And of course I’m completely gone on you, too, you know. I don’t it’s the type of supe you are that makes being with you so easy, the sex so good. It’s you.”

Eddie smiled dopeyly at Steve as he watched his boyfriend get up and head for the showers.

He cleaned up the bed and got dressed again. He was back working on the bridge he was working on before Steve came around, but this time with added clarity.

“Sounding good, Eds,” Steve said when he came back in.

Eddie grinned up at him. “Maybe I should have sex with you every time I’m stumped writing, I mean it about the clearing my head.”

Steve leaned down and gave him a kiss. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Eddie giggled. “Go on, pretty alpha boy. Your pack awaits.”

Steve laughed, skipping away lightly.

He opened the door and then transformed, leaping down the stairs. He tore down the road and Eddie just shook his head fondly as he shut the door behind his boyfriend.

*

Steve loved his wolf form. It was two-toned unlike most of his pack. The dark brown of his upper pelt and honey color of his muzzle, legs, and belly made him look more like an oversized friendly dog most of the time.

It made it easier to walk the streets of Hawkins without people batting an eye at him.

There were those that recognized him on sight, of course. But they never called him by his name, they always called out, “Sandy!”

Which always made him laugh.

“Hey, Sandy!” Mr Thacher called from his tire shop as Steve loped by.

Steve barked his hello and continued on way.

A little boy spotted him and Steve patiently sat still as he buried his face into Steve’s fur until his dad tugged on his hand to make him come with.

“Not now, Charlie,” his admonished. “You have a dentist appointment.”

Charlie sighed and allowed himself to be led away with a mournful, “Bye puppy.”

He finally got to the mayor’s office and grabbed the robe waiting by the door. He went into the bathroom and came out with the robe wrapped around his naked form.

Lucy, Major Roberts’s secretary, shook her head. “It’s damn shame that Mayor Roberts put that robe there for you.”

Steve laughed. “You just like looking at my ass.”

She pretended to be affronted. “Darling, it’s your thighs!”

Steve laughed again. “Is he able to see me right now?”

She nodded. “I’ll buzz you in.”

“Mr Harrington!” Mayor Roberts greeted, standing up to shake his hand. “What an unexpected pleasure, how can I be of service?”

Steve sat down and told him everything Josh had told him and his discussion with Eddie about the possibility of anti-supernatural rhetoric being taught in the schools.

Mayor Roberts nodded. “I was aware there was extra-curricular subjects being taught on moon days, as the teachers can’t teach their subject to only half their class. But I don’t think I ever thought about what was being taught.”

Steve nodded. “If we can find the source here in Hawkins maybe we can get it changed on a national level.”

“Thereby stopping the rise of hunters in the country,” Mayor Roberts agreed. “I’ll look into it. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Steve nodded again. “Of course. Thank you for your time.”

They shook hands and Steve was slipping through the door as wolf, the robe carefully carried in his jaw.

Lucy laughed. “Sneak!” she teased.

Steve put the robe back on the hook and looked at her innocently.

Mayor Roberts laughed. “He got you good there, Lucy.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, yeah.”

And with that Steve slipped out of the mayor’s office and back out onto the street.

He shook himself off and the broke into a run. He had a lot to think about but first he had one more stop to make.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @anaibis @she-collects-smut @irregular-child

[readilyred]

Patch Me Up ✧⁠

• Mafia boss's son x Doctor!GN!Reader

• Hello! It's my first time writing and posting something lol. Hope you enjoy!

You were bored. Extremely bored.

You thought that working as a doctor for the mafia would be more... busy. More bruises, cuts and broken bones for you to fix, it's why you joined in the first place. But as you've come to find out, members of the mafia aren't just some wannabes in back alleys who are always looking for a fight but instead professionals who have perfected the art of violence.

You sighed, what was the point of you joining if no one's getting hurt? You just spend your days wandering around HQ and sometimes chatting with the boss, who has taken a liking to you since the day you saved him, but that's a story for another time. You groaned, plopping down on the medical bed and pulling out your phone, you had nothing else to do anyway. You were just about to beat the level 487 of candy crush when you heard voices outside your clinic. You stood up and approached the door when it suddenly flew open.

The boss dragged a young man, who had bloodied fists and a bruise on his cheek, by the ear into your clinic. The two of them were yelling at each other when you coughed to get their attention. You glanced at the clock, "Good afternoon sir, who's the patient behind you?" The boss sighed, pulling the young man in front of him "My son, moron ran off and got into a fight, do be a dear and fix this idiot up will you?" the young man rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, refusing to look at you "I don't need help, old man". The boss hit the back of his head, earning a hiss from the young man "Don't call me an old man," The boss glanced at you "I'll leave this to you (Y/N)" then he left hurriedly.

"The boss is busy isn't he?" You chuckled, you motioned the bed behind you "Do take a seat, name's (Y/N) by the way" the guy reluctantly sat down "Killian" he gritted out. You pulled out your supply of medical supplies "Hold out your hands for me yeah?".

As you fixed Killian up, he (surprisingly) initiated some conversation... If you consider asking you questions in random bursts and staring at your face for an uncomfortably long time a conversation. "How old are you?" then a long pause, "What's your favorite color" then another pause. This weird interaction went on until you finished tending to his wounds. You stretched your arms when you were done "You're all set, you shouldn't use your hands too much or touch the bruise so that they'll heal quicker". Killian stood up and hurriedly walked towards the door before pausing and scratching the back of his neck "...Thanks" and then he left.

✧⁠*⁠。

Like always, you were lounging in your clinic dejectedly. The only person you treated this last week was just Killian, no one else came to your clinic after. Just then, you heard the door click open.

"Hello~ what do you ne- Killian? Did you get hurt again?" You went over to him, moving around him and checking for injuries. Killian on the other hand looked... flustered? You noticed his reddening face and pressed a hand to his forehead "Are you sick? Do you have a fever?"

Killian clicked his tongue, turning his head to the side "I'm not sick" He scratched his neck "...Here. I don't like owing people" He pulled out a small box. You took it and opened it, inside was a piece of jewelry that you mentioned to him in your awkward interaction a few days earlier, it even had a gem that was your favorite color. You stood frozen for a little bit before giving him a smile "...You didn't have to-" "Just take it, I already said I don't like owing people" Killian turned on his heel and walked out... but not before you catch a glimpse of his ears flushed red.

✧⁠*⁠。Feel free to give constructive criticism :P

[pain-in-the-butler]

How was the rest of the Kuroshitsuji panel? I'm curious lol

I'm so glad you asked! I was actually planning to make a post on this regardless of interest, so it's convenient that someone will actually already be curious to hear lol. Here is the long version of what happened at the panel:

Before CDawgVA, the directors, and Daisuke Ono came out onstage, they had a hype man going around and interviewing cosplayers in the audience/giving them random Crunchyroll prizes. He would ask the cosplayers to tell him something about their costume. My favorites were the Sebastian who cut their wig just that morning and the Ciel who left their neck bow at home, so they improvised one out of tissues and it actually looked pretty good. Here's my picture of it on the big screen:

I guess I'm an outlier who never watched a CDawgVA video, so seeing him in person was actually my first time seeing him ever. He seemed like a nice guy and happy to be there, I can see why people like him. He did a pretty good job inviting the guests onstage and asking them questions -

Producer Yoshito Ito and director Kenjirou Okada both received applause when they came out, but the crowd fuckin exploded for Daisuke Ono. He clearly has a lot of experience in working a room, he did a little theatrical bow when he walked out, and I think he said "yes, my lord" or something like that, I don't remember exactly. I'm actually not much of a fan of his, but I still joined everyone else in cheering loudly for him -

All the guests spoke Japanese and as far as I could tell the translator did a really good job up there, he was quick on the draw every time. I could tell the fan next to me spoke some Japanese and he seemed to think it was accurate -

To break the ice, CDawg asked the three panelists about what they thought of Los Angeles. I can't remember what the director and producer said, but Ono went to see a Lakers game and had a good time even though they lost -

Then CDawg (do people call him that or Connor? I actually don't know, sorry if I sound like a pleb) said that because Sebastian likes cats so much, he wonders if any of the panelists would like to have a cat. I believe it was Okada who said he had a cat two years ago when he lived with his parents, but when he moved out, his mother told him "The cat is staying here." Ito said he would rather have a dog, and Ono said he would also prefer a dog, but he would definitely name the dog "Sebastian" -

The panel was scheduled to be under an hour, so I was kind of glad when CDawg moved on from the goofy questions and asked about the anime. Ito and Okada talked about location scouting a little bit in England. They said the oddest thing for them was how there weren't mountains and that they could see the horizon even when they weren't near water. They said if they hadn't actually visited England, they probably would have put mountains around Weston...... -

CDawg also asked them about the food (and apologized for its taste before they could answer lol). Ito and Okada said that they enjoyed the fish and chips, but were surprised that afternoon tea did not live up to the hype. They didn't like the scones with clotted cream, which surprised CDawg, who said "clotted cream is the only good food we have" lmao -

Ito and Okada also talked about how they initially turned down an offer to make a new season, supposedly because they didn't think they could hold a candle to the earlier seasons. They said they later changed their minds when they realized that there were still fans of the series who wanted to see what came next. I personally don't buy that answer, but not for any reason other than it sounds fake. Maybe there's some truth to it (maybe) -

They also talked about how they really went into the Public School arc hoping to create something that felt different from the previous seasons. That was interesting to me, because it didn't really feel like that's what they were going for when I watched it, but okay I guess they were -

Ono said the most exciting thing for him about working on the Public School arc was that he was granted permission to give a more emotional performance this time. He believes that Ciel and Sebastian's experience fighting Undertaker on the Campania was a turning point in their relationship and that it changed the way he voiced Sebastian. He really did seem pleased with this fact, though it seemed to me that he could not remember Book of Atlantic very well lol—but that could have simply been due to the way the translator referred to it as "that cruise ship" -

I think that was when they took another little break to play a game CDawg came up with where the panelists had to guess what a few words in British slang meant. The first was the Welsh word "cwtch". We weren't supposed to take pictures but your girl took one anyway

"Cwtch" is pronounced "cootch" and CDawg said "Here's a hint: when you see Ciel, you want to give him a cwtch." Through no fault of the Welsh, CDawg clearly picked this word to sound like an innuendo, and some people in the audience were shouting "Kiss? Kiss?" I can't remember who, but either Ito or Okada's guess was something the translator apparently "Couldn't say out loud" with the impression that their guess was sexually inappropriate? Ono and the remaining director/producer guessed the word "hug" which was close: "cwtch" means "cuddle." It was such a bizarre moment, I stg when will we stop making sexual jokes about this child character. That includes you, Yana 🫵 -

The next word CDawg had everyone guess was "chuffed", with a picture of young Vincent celebrating his cricket victory. The hint was "you feel this after you win a cricket match." Both Ito and Okada correctly guessed "happy" and Ono guessed "like you want to drink a beer." CDawg said that that was truly in the spirit of English culture -

After that we got the Green Witch trailer, which was another bizarre moment, this time for the reason that we saw no new animation and we basically knew it was coming. Still, the audience went wild and it was fun to experience it together. We also got the 2025 release date so I guess that's cool -

Next, Ito and Okada talked about the upcoming season a little bit. The only thing of note that I can recall is that they said they weren't going location scouting this time because Sieglinde's village wasn't a real place. However, they said they planned to take a lot of inspiration from the manga itself. These points struck me as disheartening and obvious in turn, but I guess at least they were honest -

Ono said he was excited to give a darker performance this time around. He also said, mostly likely to drum up the crowd, that he was a little nervous but that he could do anything with "Ciel" (Maaya Sakamoto) by his side, and yes the audience did eat it up with more applause -

After that, CDawg raffled off what looked to be a drawing of Sebastian, possibly by Yumi Shimizu, signed by Daisuke Ono. They had given us these tickets before the panel started and the person with the winning number got the prize. Shockingly, I did not win -

Next someone came and took a picture of the panelists and the audience in the background, then Daisuke Ono did this thing where he waved at everyone and got us to wave with him, and finally the panel ended after roughly fifty minutes

Overall, I give the event a 6/10. We didn't have a lot of time, so I understood that they couldn't go too in-depth and that they wanted to keep it lighthearted too, but I personally would have appreciated some more interesting information on season 4 or something juicy about season 5. As it was, it felt like a lot of what we learned was entirely unsurprising. But it was nice of everyone to come all the way from Japan and the UK, and I guess it's kind of cool to say I've seen Daisuke Ono live now, even though he's only my third favorite Sebastian. My expectations were low, I went just to say I was there, and what I mainly gained was a bit of whimsical joy at being in a room full of Kuro fans, which is no bad prize at all.

[bambi-kinos]

I really enjoy your meta and look forward to more mclennon analysis. Out of curiosity, you mentioned that you think they started being physical in 1964 - is there a reason why that year specifically? Personally, I've always thought they started sleeping together in 1963, and my reasoning for that is they seem much closer in videos/photos, not to mention it was the year they "broke through", so to speak.

Would love to hear your thoughts on that!

Hmm well I guess it depends on how they, and we, define their sex life. John and Paul were sexually intimate starting since they were teenagers because John brought Paul into the group wanks. (tbh it's a miracle Paul didn't brain John with something heavy thanks to all that Winston Churchilling.) There's really no telling how it progressed from there, anything is possible with these two. Until Paul tells us the details (and I do not put it past him) then he and John could have been hooking up at literally any point in their relationship. When I think of them getting physical with each other, I'm thinking of them getting each other off with intent and purpose, and considering the style of the time this would mean penetration. Everything else can be handwaved away.

I pick 1964 because of this post: https://www.tumblr.com/got-ticket-to-ride/739464905120497664/its-the-anniversary-day-of-john-and-paul-in-paris?source=share

It's just something about it, y'know. John and Paul are in their city. They stayed up all night and well into the morning and then slept deep into the afternoon, almost evening. And then as GTTR says, "And then they emerge from their hotel room looking like a newlywed couple."

Well, there's just a certain satisfaction radiating off them isn't there?

But I do see your point: why wouldn't they be hooking up earlier? Why wouldn't it escalate physically before this? Why would they wait until Paris 1964?

I have a few reasons, they are admittedly flimsy but since we are all just making shit up then it's fine, right?

Julian was born in 1963. I've read bits and pieces of Beatles 1963 by Rees and that book is full of little chunks about John running home to see Cynthia and the baby (usually not even for a full night/day because he was so busy.) Their schedule is also packed, they are constantly on the move especially during the night because this is where they had to start being smuggled out of theaters and such. So I genuinely think that John and Paul did not have the time or the space to have sex with each other. I know I am saying this when they had time to hook up with groupies between shows but considering who John and Paul are, and what they mean to one another, I just struggle to imagine them acting that way with one another. They would want to take their time with one another and get it right. They're hopeless romantics at heart, they're both deeply enamored with the idea of "you're special, you're different" so I genuinely think they would want to take their time with each other physically and do it right. I don't think they had that time in 1963 with the way they're running all over the UK.

Then there's the Absolute State of John and Paul's relationship in 1963. Remember that the halcyon days of Paris are way in the rearview mirror at this point. In 1962 Stuart died, Cynthia got pregnant, and John had to get married to save her reputation. I can't imagine Paul reacting well to any of this though I'm sure he put his cheery stoic mask on. Then in 1963, Julian is born. Barcelona happens and John seduces Brian to get the songwriting credit that he wanted and screws Paul out of their deal. Considering this is something Paul is still angry about to this day, I can't imagine how he blew his fucking top at John when he found out that May:

I don't think Paul was in the mood for any hooking up in 1963. John has a baby with a woman, is married, then he fucks off to have a gay experience with their manager and then when he comes back he's screwed Paul's side of the business on the downlow? I would be on the fucking six o' clock news lmao, John would not have escaped my wrath. It's really no wonder Paul made a specific point of hooking up with Jane Asher isn't it? He was making a point to John specifically and John seethed about it.

However I do think that something happened in 1963 that healed the rift in the Lennon-McCartney relationship:

Paul got sick from the gastric flu and he fainted dead away in the dressing room. John was very upset and was seen pacing the room when the doctor arrived to check on Paul. This is how we know that Paul actually fainted for real, if he was just feeling feverish John would be concerned but maybe not like that. @james-winston has a pair of really fantastic posts about the aftermath of the fainting incident that I have taken as gospel and I fully apply this to any McLennon analysis I write about this period. The key point though is this:

I have a headcanon that Paul being sick caused something to happen between John and Paul that left them both feeling awkward around each other. I don't think it is was sexual, I think it was more likely that John (who thought he was cursed to have all the men he loved die on him) was afraid something might happen to Paul, and reacted emotionally to it.

This all took place in November, after the Wooler thing, after the burn from Barcelona has had a chance to soften, after they both have had time to get used to the idea that Julian exists and has a place in their lives now. I think this was enough to mend things between them. And you know what else happened the night Paul fainted? Brian secured The Beatles their spot on Ed Sullivan:

So once Brian comes back and tells them the news, John and Paul flip right back into the honeymoon phase. The wounds of the past are forgotten (for now) and they're right back in each other's pockets. I think it's around this time period that Paul was taking photos that now make up Eye of the Storm.

TBH I can imagine John and Paul hooking up at this date. If someone looked at this and said "well this looks like a prelude to sweet love making to me" then that's perfectly reasonable. There's some suggestive photos in Eye of the Storm where Paul is taking John's picture from what looks to be a bathtub while John makes faces at him. It could have been then, absolutely.

But I like the idea that Paul wanted to wait until the next year. 1963 was rough on all of them and he and John are both big on getting new starts. Wait for 1964 to roll around. Brian says we're going to Paris in February. I can wait until then.

And just this once, it was worth it.

[heartstopper-tword]

A/N: I'm baaaaack :) Sorry for the lack of posting for the past couple of months. I've been locked out of my account and have been busy with school and dance. Here's a little drabble for you all!

Prompt #29 - "I just want to help you relax."

Find the list of prompts here!

Sweet Afternoon Giggles and Relaxation

The sound of the school bell ringing at the end of the day was like a breath of fresh air for everyone at Truham. Charlie especially was ready to get out of the building as fast as he could. He and Nick had planned on heading to their special spot at the local park - under the big oak tree - as soon as the day had ended, Nick insisting that Charlie needed time off from stressing out about school. Of course, Charlie had denied being stressed in the first place, though he knew his argument was useless, especially since Nick had learned how to read him like a book. He couldn't hide how he felt from his boyfriend.

The two in question walked hand in hand down the path leading to the park, whispering and giggling along the way. Nick had an arm wrapped around Charlie's waist, refusing to let Charlie move even a foot away from him. Charlie had definitely noticed, and couldn't fight the blush from his face whenever Nick would squeeze him closer into his side. How had he gotten so lucky with someone so perfect?

"You look tense." Nick commented to the younger boy as they laid out their blanket on the shady patch of grass underneath the tree. He sat down, staring up at him. "Like, really tense."

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. "Yeah. I... I haven't slept much recently. I've been busy."

"Busy getting ahead of everyone else on your school work?" Nick smirked, a knowing look in his eye.

Charlie chuckled a bit, sitting down next to him. "Yeah."

"Well..." Nick grabbed his elbow, tugging him gently so he would topple over into his lap, "Why don't you take a nap then?"

"Right here? Now?"

"Why not?"

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna help you get to sleep." Nick said, his hand running through Charlie's dark curls. "You need it, Charlie. I can tell you're exhausted."

Charlie hummed, his eyes closing at the calming sensation. "You don't mind?"

"I just want to help you relax."

Nick's hand moved down a bit, running down his back, and Charlie sighed. "Fine. But only for an hour. I've got to get back home for dinner."

"Of course."

And that was that; Charlie laid in his boyfriend's lap, the older boy massaging over his back and carding his fingers through his hair soothingly, for what seemed like forever.

That was, until Nick's hand moved a bit too close to his ribs, and Charlie let out a squeak in surprise, arching his back. He felt Nick's fingers still completely, almost uncertain to continue.

"Char?"

"I'm sorry, it's just- your hand, it-" Charlie felt his cheeks burning, even more than earlier. "Never mind. You can keep going."

"Okay..."

Nick started his movements again once Charlie had settled his head back down in his lap, and the silence resumed.

But Nick couldn't stop thinking about Charlie's reaction just then. What was that? He had originally been afraid he might of hurt him somehow, but Charlie didn't seem to be in any sort of pain at all. Especially since he thought Charlie would've let him know any sore spots to avoid in the first place.

Curiously, he slowly trailed his fingers back over to his ribs, and-

"Agh! Nihick!"

Oh. Oh.

"Charlie..." Nick's face broke into a bright grin, inwardly melting at the boy who was currently trying to hide his face in his arms. "Are you ticklish?"

"No!" The response was instinct, and Charlie knew he had answered way too quickly and way too loud to be believable. He knew Nick knew the answer already.

"You're not? So if I do this it wouldn't bother you?" Nick pinched at his ribs, and Charlie immediately shrieked, trying to roll off his lap, but Nick's other arm kept him in place. "Nick, stohohop!"

"Absolutely not. This is fucking adorable. And you need to relax, anyways."

"I thought you were gonna let me sleeheeheep!" Charlie whined in between giggles, squealing when Nick moved down to his hips and squeezed.

"Later I will. In case you haven't noticed, my plans have changed." Nick couldn't help but inwardly swoon over how cute Charlie looked at that moment, trying to shove at his chest and squirm away as bubbly laughter poured out of his mouth all the while. It was absolutely heartwarming, and as long as he could keep him happy and laughing, he wasn't sure if he'd ever stop.

But when he did eventually let up on his attack, Charlie couldn't stop the residual giggles from escaping him as he and Nick laid back on the blanket together, Nick's arms still wrapped around him tightly.

"You're evil," Charlie told him, his head resting on his chest, and he felt Nick chuckle underneath him. "I know. Don't think I'm not going to do that again, though."

Charlie only responded with a flustered whimper, and Nick grinned, his fingers finding their way back to his curls.

It didn't take long for Charlie to doze off, and Nick laid with him contentedly, caressing his hair, watching the clouds go by above them as he wondered how on earth he got so lucky with a boy like him.

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 18: “Big Time Concert” (Part 2)

Highlights: Everything falls apart.

When we last left Big Time Rush, James had just been devoured by the crowd of screaming fans at Dak Zevon's concert training session. He's eventually tossed back onto the stage disheveled and underwear-less. The rest of the training goes great.

The boys are forced to sing as they run home, and as they do, we catch sight of George Hawk, Gustavo's arch-enemy who we fist met in "Big Time Sparks." He's back and more determined than ever to bring Gustavo down.

After a montage of the guys gradually perfecting their concert performing abilities, we end with some praise and expectedly unhinged words from Griffin.

I love their reactions to him. Not one of them knows how to digest that information. Look at Kendall's face.

Griffin then breaks some bad news: the album and tour are canceled. The band is too risky and not feasible.

Bummer.

Instead, Rocque Records will be focusing its energy on children's audio books. The band is dead. No, but for REAL this time. Not like the dozen other times the band was in jeopardy this season.

Back at the Palm Woods, Katie is upset that all her time spent making merchandise has been for nothing. Carlos (always the sweetheart) offers to take a hat, and I love the exchange that follows.

Meanwhile, James has locked himself in the bathroom and is down to the last frayed shreds of his unraveling sanity.

Down at the pool, Kendall and Logan are saying goodbye to their respective girlfriends, and can I just say how much I dig their color-coordinated outfits in this scene?

Kendall can't find the words to say to Jo, though, because he's "not good at goodbyes." Which reminds me of earlier in the season, in the dance episode, where Jo was angry at Kendall for not asking her to be his date (because he just assumed they were already dating and didn't need to say anything).

Kendall is a master at pep talks, but his communication skills when it comes to romantic relationships sure is lousy. Huh. Wonder why.

glances at Mr. Knight.

Kendall and Jo share their first (and last) kiss, Camille slaps Logan goodbye, and then the gang heads back to Minnesota. Obsessed with the fact that they're dropped off (piles of boxes and all) in front of the grocery store. Like. Why?? Also, the fact that Kendall's boss immediately tosses an apron at him and tells him to take the afternoon shift is hysterical and ridiculous. Also! Look how teeny-tiny Mama Knight looks standing next to Kendall and James.

James is suddenly hit with the reality of the situation and storms off screaming. We then go to Rocque Records, where Ed Begley Jr. is doing his recording of "Can You Foo?" (this scene used to crack my sister and I up)

Kelly points out that Gustavo never even said goodbye to the boys. He's not good at goodbyes either.

Has anyone ever written up a post about the parallels between Kendall and Gustavo's personalities and how it impacts their relationship? Because. There's a lot there.

Over at the grocery store, Kendall is trying to rally the guys and push everyone to move on with their lives. He tells Logan to work toward his dream of being a doctor and promises Carlos they'll work on fine-tuning his dream (to be hit by a radioactive meteor and become a superhero).

James is not having it. He tells them their dreams are stupid. He tells Kendall he's stupid too. Very reminiscent of the parking lot scene in "Big Time Audition" where James is angry at Kendall for blowing off Gustavo's offer.

Seeing as Kendall and James are both so passionate and hotheaded when it comes to things they care about, I headcanon that they definitely got into a handful of arguments that came to blows over the years. Can totally see them getting so worked up that they just start beating each other up, then go back to being buddies a few hours later after they cool down.

James calls the other guys quitters, then takes off on his tiny little bicycle.

No, but I'm laughing. Why is the bike so small?? Did he steal it from a ten-year-old?

At Hawk Records, Hawk's assistant is giving them the rundown on the boys so they can choose their target. After eliminating them one by one (Logan's too smart and will ask questions, Kendall's too hard to control, Carlos has the Helmet Thing) they settle on James.

And with that, I'm going to wrap this post up for now. I'll probably end up with 4 parts to this one just like with the pilot episode.

[wawamouse]

11, 12 & 56 for Miguel & Chico👀 if youre so inclined🙏🙏

ooh~ so many wonderful prompts! I'm going to answer #11 here, but #12 I'm going to eventually post to ao3 because it's currently like 5k lol. Someone else sent #56 as well so I will be getting to everything :)

Without further ado!

#11 Miguel/Chico, In Secrecy

--

By the time the movie finishes, Carmen’s heart is thudding just about a thousand beats per minute, every fiber of his being thrumming at attention of the insanely hot guy slumped down a seat over in the slowly emptying theater.

The guy has the slender muscles of his arms on display, the sleeves of his white t-shirt rolled up exposing a cluster of circular tattoos on his light skin. When he turns his head, Carmen meets those dark, doe eyes that match his wavy fade—gets a clearer look at his face, his strong eyebrows and cupid’s bow lip and that once-broken crooked nose that gives him a kind of rugged handsomeness. His elbow is planted on his armrest on Carmen’s side, his chin resting in his palm, fingertips drumming along an angular jaw.

He’s pretty, yeah, but he doesn’t look like no maricón. Then again, Carmen knows that looks can be deceiving. He licks his lips as the house lights come fully on and they sit alone in the center of the now deserted theater.

“You were here the other week, weren’t you?” the guy says suddenly.

Carmen nods. He’s mirroring the dude, not moving fast, keeping his cool.

The guy is leaning over a little, cutting into the space of the seat still separating them. “Where’re you from?” he asks, his own raspy accent giving away where he’s from. The city, no doubt. The Bronx.

“Around.” Carmen smiles. Ain’t important.

The guy sits up, arms pulling into his lap as he smiles, all crooked and charming. “Hey, no way. Me, too.”

They share a soft snort.

Fucking corny, but the guy’s undeniable, the flash of his big eyes enchanting, everything about his face and posture striking—familiar machismo there that sucks Carmen right in. Warmth sweeps over his skin.

“I’m Miguel.”

“Carmen.”

The guy named Miguel tilts his head, openly checking Carmen out. “Like your shirt, Carmen.”

It's nothing special. Cuban style knit, sort of olive green and flashy. Something Carmen was trying, he guesses, way out here where there’s no chance of meeting anyone he knows. He bites the inside of his cheek.  “I like your...” He trails off. So many things he could compliment, but Miguel’s plain t-shirt and jeans aren’t among them, unless he’s talking about how the fabric of that tee is thin and clinging to a nicely sculpted chest, flipped up a little at his waist and hinting at the hug of his jeans against narrow hips.

Miguel raises his eyebrows and Carmen gives a shrug and a lazy grin.

“You like the movie?” he ends up saying instead.

“Was okay.” 

Probably hadn’t really been watching the flick. Carmen wasn’t.

He licks his lips. “Guess we’d better go,” he says, because an employee is walking in, head poking into view along the edge of the seating area as he drags a trash bin and a broom behind him.

“Know a place,” Miguel says, “You know, if you ain’t doing much later.”

It’s that cue—the quick drop of everything falling into place. 

Carmen grins and as they stand, he sees Miguel’s eyes sweeping over him as he looks over Miguel; they’re the same height, stride matching as they head out into the popcorn and butter scented lobby of the theater, past the singles loitering around, furtively scoping each other out.

Miguel’s car is parked around the corner—okay, Carmen says; he doesn’t mind stretching his legs some more. The late summer afternoon is nice and balmy, not as hot as earlier in the day, and certainly cooler than the city. He knows his pager’s probably beeping like crazy back where he left it in his apartment... But he’s miles away from that life right now, shooting the shit with some handsome fucker whose cocky smile widens as they approach his car, clearly his pride and joy.

Carmen murmurs his appreciation as he climbs into the passenger side; then they’re off.

And, sitting in the drab interrogation room three days later, a detective looming over him, growling questions through his teeth, Carmen shrugs when he’s asked where he disappeared to after Patterson went over the side of the roof. Like he’d ever tell—like he’d ever let anyone know about that quiet refuge, operating under proper society’s noses. A place for him.

He’s looking at life in prison, his public defender tries to impress upon him; if he’s got an alibi for those missing hours, then he’d better spill.

Carmen blinks—thinks about that dim motel room, Miguel’s tight waist beneath his hands, his body a warm and solid weight in his lap. Hadn’t been shy—wasn’t looking for a fucking shrink, either—had known what he wanted, fingers moving deftly over the buttons of Carmen’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

“You kiss?” he’d asked, pausing only after he’d started to lean in, instinctive—the most natural thing in the world to him. One of his hands had been sliding down between them to get at the buttons of Carmen’s slacks; he’d be getting them off regardless of the answer.

Anyway: “Yeah,” Carmen had breathed at once, because it was true—he did kiss guys—there, at least, far away and hidden. Was definitely going to kiss Miguel if he wanted to. And he’d liked the eager feeling of Miguel’s mouth against his, and the smooth slip of his tongue before they’d tipped over, urgency reigniting in an excited blaze once they’d felt each other out and learned each other’s rhythms.

“Don’t have a fucking alibi,” Carmen mutters later, and that’s true, too. “I was out doing shit.”

“Doing what shit? Drugs?” His lawyer’s got that tired whine that says he’s used to the tight lips from his clients.

“At one point, yeah.”

“Anyone who can back you up?”

Carmen gives the man a look. He knows just about how useless that testimony would be. 

And either way, he remembers Miguel’s sated smile and him rolling closer after and he knows they’d talked about a lot of shit—music and the best Backwoods flavors; the Yankees and Miguel’s girlfriend back home who kept lying she was pregnant—Whatever, she just wants to get hitched, you know?; they’d giggled about Carmen’s fucking bitch neighbor Mrs. Contreras and what exactly was the difference between a violin and a fucking fiddle; that new movie Apollo 13 and How freaky would it be if they really got stuck out there?; Hey, you like heroin?

How can I find you again hadn’t been one of those topics of conversation. Carmen had known later as he’d pulled his clothes back on where he could find Miguel if he wanted to. If he ever had the chance again.

“Okay, sure.” His lawyer gives an exasperated sigh and tries one last time. “Out where, at least? Can you tell me that?”

Carmen shrugs. Wonders if Miguel would rather get stuck in prison or in space. “Around,” he says.

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

WIP Wednesday

Coming in a little late this evening, here to share a snippet I actually wrote earlier this afternoon for Honey, you're familiar (like my mirrors years ago), aka Daddy Issues: the dads storyline swapalooza.

“Those of us who live in this building chose to live here because we value our privacy,” Henry states, still avoiding direct eye contact with Alex. “And—” And Alex cuts him off, not willing to be lectured a second longer. “Us fucking too, Prince Charming. Just because we didn’t grow up with live updates of our every move since birth doesn’t mean June and I aren’t aware of the shitty moves the paparazzi and reporters and whoever else try to pull.” Henry opens his mouth to respond, looking half-annoyed, half-confused. But Alex isn’t done. “We visited my dad’s memorial for his birthday, and it turned into a whole fucking news story that my mom didn’t come with us. So excuse me if I don’t have the time or energy to be lectured like I don’t know what I’m talking about, because I fucking do.” When the elevators open, Alex lets the guards exit first, then he turns to Henry, who seems to have been stunned into silence. “In case your inbreeding didn’t give you enough brain cells to follow that: June and I appreciate our privacy too. So you’re welcome to fuck right off.” With that, he pushes the dolly out after Cash, not giving Henry a second glance.

Thanks to @ships-to-sail @inexplicablymine @anincompletelist @heybuddy-drabbles @14carrotghoul @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @littlemisskittentoes @sherryvalli @leaves-of-laurelin @kiwiana-writes for Wednesday tags (your snippets are so fun, will be liking and sharing soon) and @rockyroadkylers and val for the last line tag-this also happens to be the last line I wrote)!

Sorry if I missed someone who already posted, this is my first time on tumblr all day, would love to see what y'all are up to: @cultofsappho @xthelastknownsurvivorx @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @everwitch-magiks @affectionatelyrs @read-and-write- @tintagel-or-cockleshells @daisymae-12 @indomitable-love and anyone else I'm forgetting!!! Tag me so I can see :)

[feneku]

Under a Million Blazing Stars - WIP

Warnings: None

Tags: Slight F!drifter/ordis if you tilt your head and squint, fluff, comfort, Post-Jade Shadows

Notes: I headcanon the Operator and Drifter merging into one being during TNW so the Drifter is generally referred to as the Operator in my fics. Set prior to Rescue Operation.

~800 words

The Operator stretched her arms over her head as she walked up the ramp out of the Orbiter. She breathed in the cool night air and looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful night, quiet and peaceful. She turned back toward the Orbiter for a moment, and thought she’d never get used to it being stashed away in a cave. Hell she didn’t think Ordis would be fine with it considering it was leaking water in multiple places. She smiled and hoped the small army of domestik drones she bought helped, if nothing else, it was funny watching them follow Ordis around when he wandered the ship in his drone body.

She looked up at the stars again and sighed, she didn’t come out here to stargaze or worry about the state of the Orbiter. She had something far more pressing to worry about.

As she moved through the camp she kept an eye out for her target. He wasn’t by the campfire, she poked around Kahl’s garrison, not there either. She frowned and hoped he hadn’t wandered off too far into the forest. She's sure he’d be fine, but still she worried. The Operator moved past Kahl’s garrison and walked down the small path further into the forest. It wasn’t until she had wandered into the small cave with an overlook that she spotted him.

“Ah!” She paused. Now that she had found him she was at a loss at how to handle this. She took a deep breath and recalled what he’d let slip out that afternoon.

"I am, as always, your- Ordan- Ordis." He’d called himself by his original name. One he’d tried so hard to hide from her. She knew she shouldn’t’ve pried, searched for his scattered memories, but after Granum’s ranting it was more or less out in the open now.

She slowly approached him. It seemed he was doing some stargazing of his own.

“Ordis?” She called out to him as she made her way over to him.

He jerked in shock, like she'd interrupted him deep in thought, “Operator! What are you doing- skulking around- walking around so late?”

The Operator looked past him at the moon slowly making its way across the sky. It wasn’t really that late.

“Looking for you, actually.” She said as she settled in next to him. “Mind if I join you?”

“Certainly! Ordis did not know the Operator enjoyed stargazing as well! It is a lovely night, isn't it?” He started babbling excitedly about the stars, the nighttime wildlife, and occasionally stopping to ask her thoughts. He always seemed to want to know what she was thinking.

After a short time had passed she decided it was now or never, and interrupted him, “Ordis? Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course, Operator.” The drone’s little head tilted quizzically. “Is something wrong?” His voice was tinged with concern for her. She smiled softly, he was still fussing over her after what had happened with the Stalker.

“Not exactly…” Not with me, at least. She thought as she wrapped her arms around him. “How have you been feeling lately, Ordis?”

“Ordis has been… Fine.” He said, a little too carefully.

Liar.

“I'm sorry, I know this is sudden but…Can we talk a little about what you said earlier?” She said as she braced herself for his response.

She felt his drone body jolt and he made to fly away, but it wasn’t an earnest attempt. She grimaced. She didn’t like trapping him like this, but one of them had to start this conversation at some point. Truthfully, if he really wanted to avoid it he could just disconnect from his drone body, she really didn't want to have to carry it back to the Orbiter though, it was heavier than it looked.

“That man is dead. Ordis is Ordis.”

She frowned and fought back some choice words about how that was absolute kavatshit. He's so insistent, so damn stubborn. It felt like the more he denied who he was the worse his “glitches” became. She worried for him.

“I understand.” She sighed, “I just want you to know I'm here for you, no matter what. Okay?” She felt him relax in her arms and wondered for a moment if he was going to disconnect and leave her here. There was a long silence before he responded.

“Thank you… Operator.” His response was quiet, soft. She held him just a little tighter. The drone body didn't have many sensors, but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless.

She watched the shattered moon slowly make its way across the sky. “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 46 (Home to Henford)

Everett and Spencer Pancakes had worked hard on their marriage, but they still struggled in Oasis Springs so far from their families.

Then one day, Everett's phone rang. His hometown parish - the 400-year-old church in Henford-on-Bagley where he'd grown up listening to the scripture of the Watcher - needed a new priest. Though their sons were young for such a big move, they jumped at the chance for Greyson and Jett to grow up in their childhood paradise.

They moved in with Spencer's parents, Eric and Alice, at her childhood home in Old New Henford. With Lydia now in Brindleton Bay with the Goths, Spencer's parents had plenty of room for Everett, Spencer, Greyson, and baby Jett - and their dog, JJ, too!

Their first day back, Everett's twin sister, Malia, dropped by to visit and share some happy news. "Jamar and I are expecting!"

Everett knew his sister and her husband, Henford's young, successful doctor, Jamar Scott, had been trying for over a year. "That's fantastic!" Everett beamed, and Malia practiced holding infants by spending the rest of the afternoon entertaining baby Jett.

Spencer's work was primarily in Selvadorada and the only thing that kept her in Oasis Springs was the sun and Everett's old job, but being back with her family again meant everything to her. Not just having her parents, but her older sister Olivia lived with her own family just up the road on Old Mill Hill. Olivia's youngest was close in age to Greyson, and Spencer wanted their families near as they raised their own sons.

"I never realized how much I needed you until we unpacked our bags," Spencer admitted to her mother in the family room, while Jett snuggled with his grandpa Eric on the sofa. "Hopefully now that I'm home I can stop second-guessing everything I do as a mom."

Alice looked at her daughter with a generous smile. "You didn't need to come all the way home for us to know you're a good mother. Your boys love you, and we love them almost as much as I know you do."

Spencer dearly loved her sons, but she worried her ambition was too obvious. That maybe her sons knew she itched to fly to Selvadorada and immerse herself in her work, thousands of miles away from them. The way her sons and her job competed for her time left her overflowing with guilt, but now that she was home, she was more hopeful about the future than she'd been in years.

Everett's grandmothers, Agatha and Agnes Crumpcakes, were getting older. He was glad to be closer to help his father and stepmother take care of them. He felt a responsibility to his family as the eldest of his siblings, even if he was only five minutes older than Malia.

She was going to have a baby, Kash lived in Brindleton Bay with his husband, Wolfgang (Munch!), and Elizabeth was still in high school. Leaving his church and parishioners in Oasis Springs had been difficult, but being home with his family, and at the pulpit of his hometown church, felt like the choice he should have made when he and Spencer married five years earlier.

Everywhere they went they saw familiar faces, and their return began to heal Everett and Spencer's marriage even further.

They were home again, just in time for their dear friend Heather to bring Conrad to Henford to meet her loved ones... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: The baby is Jett, Heather and Everett's biological child that she delivered as a surrogate. So far he looks like Heather. He even had her hair colour, but I darkened it because I'm already sick of it repeatedly showing up in Neal's descendants.

NOTE 2: Three days without Conrad and today without Heather, I know that's bold strategy, but I wanted this post to stand alone because a) I had to set up why they left the desert before Heather visits, and doing it in the same post was a little too verbose, even for me, b) that gorgeous church build needed to get some featured screen time, and c) we haven't seen Jett since he was born and the pic with his Aunt Malia above is the clearest one I have of him as an infant. Heather and Conrad (and Ash!) are all back tomorrow!

WCIF Henford's Church: Escombe Church in the Sims 4 Gallery by @simstruhistory/TeaWithTash (beautiful build, cc-free, and there's more historical content at their page!) This is a historical recreation of the real Escombe Church in England and I think it's got a perfect Henford vibe. It doesn't actually fit in Henford in my main save but I want to use it again to stage some funerals in the future and maybe weddings, too. I've referenced the 400-year-old church in Henford a couple times but never showed it because it didn't exist (*whispers*I didn't wanna build it) until I saw this one showcased here on simblr!

I'm so, so grateful to creators with build skills, mod skills, CAS skills, all skills, saving me time to do the Sim stuff I really enjoy. 🤗

(Also I'm not a spiritual person, but I have Lumpinou's Rambunctious Religions mod installed because I was playing Ultimate Decades for a while, and just because I'm not religious doesn't mean some of my sims can't be!)