#max packs oil

[herblinz]

Tell coffee master Savage-san how you take yours in the morning ☕️

Leyendecker study. So dead but so happy I got to share this (ノ°∀°)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

I drew this in mind for a Savage-oriented pal 💛 who also let me use her beautiful bialetti pot as model. Feeling so fortunate to meet my moots in the fandom 💞

High res and process on my Patreon as always. Reblogs are ultra appreciated 🙇🏻 Thank you for helping an artist out in any and whichever way ^^

https://www.patreon.com/Herbalinz?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his cousins bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part Four

The burn in his muscles was a sign that he was pushing his limits, effectively working his muscles, and making the progress he set a goal for. The release of endorphins was a positive feeling Terry felt throughout. The sweat is a dark and growing map down the front of his tank top, turning it from a bright grey toward smokey. His skin is as wet as if he’d just pulled himself from a pool, yet there is no water around, only the dank elite gym he occupied that Thursday morning.

Salty droplets flowed down Terry’s face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the gym floor as he sits to regain his breath. Down his back is a dark stripe amid the light gray colour of his sleeveless top, a spreading map of perspiration. Terry blinked his wet lashes before adjusting his AirPod Pro Max headset over his ears. He’d pushed through his last set and now he needed a shower.

Pushing himself up, Terry gathered his things and headed for the showers. Once there, he found his locker and grabbed all the things he needed for a brisk shower. Within a changing room, he removed the drenched tank top from his upper body and the thigh–hugging black gym shorts on his lower half. Shoes and socks off, Terry secured a towel around his waist and proceeded towards the showers.

Warm water cascaded down his body, rolling between the cut muscles of his abdomen and the contours of his back muscles. Soap suds slicked his copper skin the more he squeezed his body sponge to release more coconut and vanilla scented soap. The soft sponge smoothed down his six pack, past his pubic hair, and down the length of his semi–hard dick.

He finished up after cleansing his face and with the towel around his waist, he headed back to his dressing room. Today he had a French class to teach on campus. Something he’d picked up last minute. Terry checked the time on his Apple Watch after dressing in a pair of khakis with a simple white button down. He decided to take his new baby for a spin: Oxblood Red Dodge Charger.

Inside, Terry checked himself out in the mirror above his driver’s side. His fingers smoothed over his trimmed mustache and goatee, smoothing in the Maracuja Oil and Shea Butter moisturizer he liked to use. His engine roared to life, and Terry rolled off the lot and straight for LSU. It took him ten minutes to arrive and he secured himself a spot within the staff parking lot. Briefcase in hand, Terry switched on his Professor demeanor and headed inside towards his classroom.

When he arrived, students were waiting along the walls and chitchatting. Terry greeted them all before opening the door to give them access. He waited until the last person entered before shutting the door behind them.

“Bonjour, comment va tout le monde ?”

The class responded.

“Est-ce que tout le monde est prêt pour le quiz ?

The students had a quiz every Thursday to test their skills from Tuesday’s practice.

“Très bien. euh... ouvrez les ordinateurs portables qui vous sont assignés et trouvez le quiz sur le tableau de bord. vous avez quinze minutes…”

Terry settled behind his desk and used that opportunity to look over his busy schedule. He had to pick up his tux later for Mike’s wedding. Stylus hovering over his iPad, Friday put a smile on his face. He couldn’t wait. The earth needed to rotate faster on its axis. After the time was up, they went over the answers and fell straight into lecture.

It was the type of heat outside that’s wet and heavy. Terry could feel the water in the air, in his lungs almost. The sensation of sweat trickling down his spine tickled and he reached around to rub the spot with his thumb.

As he was putting away his briefcase, Terry could feel an incoming call buzzing through the pocket of his khakis. He dug his long fingers between the snug fabric and as he retrieved his phone his eyes focused on his mother’s contact. Worry seeped within his pours.

“Mama, everything okay?”

“Hey, TJ. why everytime I call you, you think something is wrong?”

Terry waited until his mother’s laughter died down before speaking, a smirk teasing his full lips, “Last two times you called, it was bad news. And you called me back to back.”

“Well, this time it’s me calling to check on you. Are you at work?”

“I’m leaving. Had a short day today. I’m doin’ good. Been busy, goin’ to pick up my tux right now. How you and Pop?”

“Good, baby. He’s out right now to Home Depot. You know he’s still tryna build that shed, right?”

Terry chuckled, settling into his drivers seat.

“Wish I could help.”

“He’s got some help, some buddies up here.”

“Good thing,” Terry cranked his AC, “Tell him to take it easy now. We don’t need a repeat of last time.”

“I know, I know. I’m keeping an eye on ‘em. I love you, TJ. I’m not gonna hold ya up. Call me when you get settled, okay?”

“I promise I will. Tell the boss I said I love him.”

“Will do, baby.”

——

That Thursday evening, Aaliyah lit some candles in her living room after enjoying a quick meal of seafood boil ramen. It wasn’t the healthiest, but she’d been craving it for a week straight. Curled up on her couch in her birthday suit, she enjoyed a glass of red wine while watching YouTube from her flat screen. It was a video about how a girl hexed her best-friend. The lengths that people go when they’re envious and jealous of others success had Aaliyah tripping.

Buzz Buzz

Aaliyah checked her phone. Terry texted her a photo of himself laid up on the couch with his glasses on and his cat, Orion, curled up in his lap. He looked so cute with his big, toothy grin. She could see his entire upper body, the teasing display of honeyed skin across his neck, shoulders, arms and abs beneath the orange hue of his living room mood lights set something off in Aaliyah.

Oh…to see all of that in person. To press her nose against his chest and drag her tongue over those nipples…count the moles that littered his skin…feel the firmness of his muscles and the softness of his blemish–free skin. She wished she were lying in his lap. Her cheek against his growing erection. Her mouth watering to taste. Ever since she straddled her Professor in his truck, Aaliyah couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t control the way her clit ached deliciously whenever she recalled the way his thick bulge created the perfect friction on her clit.

His nose pressed against her neck sent chills down her spine. His big arms squeezed her tight and she craved the sensation of being glued to him in such a cramped position. Aaliyah clenched her thighs tightly and bit down hard on her bottom lip to contain herself of moaning. Ignoring the way her pussy throbbed with an insatiable need for him, she replied with heart eyes.

Aaliyah: 😍😍😍

Terry: I miss you

She found herself blushing into her hand.

Aaliyah: I miss you too.

Terry: Can I call you? Been awhile since I heard that cute little voice.

Aaliyah sat up and pondered. She definitely wanted to talk to him, but the wine was shooting straight to her pussy and she knew what calling him would do.

Fuck it! Stop holding off! Get yours…

Aaliyah: Sure 😌

Stomach muscles tight with anxiousness, Aaliyah waited. Terry’s call came through seconds later.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Aaliyah blushed hard.

“Hi,” She traced her hip with an almond–shaped nail painted a pinky–nude, “How’s my favorite professor?”

“Better now that I’m talking to my favorite student. You doin’ okay?”

“A lot better. You have that effect on me.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“As long as I can put a smile on that face…I hate to see you sad and crying…”

Aaliyah rolled over onto her back on the couch and beamed. The only crying she wanted was from that dick.

“You smiling now, ain’t you?”

“Maybe,” Aaliyah looked up at her ceiling.

“You are. I can hear it in your voice…”

His voice through the phone with its deep baritone and smoothness had such a hold on her. How was it that this man could have such an effect on her every being without even trying? She told herself she would never be this spung off a man again and now look. Giddy.

“Okay, I am…”

“I already knew that, I just wanted you to admit it.”

“Whatever,” Aaliyah rolled her eyes, “Where are you taking me tomorrow?”

“Didn’t I tell you it’s a surprise? You can’t always get your way, baby.”

“It better be worth my while.”

Terry chuckled, “Or what?”

“It’s gonna be a problem.”

“Aaliyah…”

His laughter on the other end of the line prompted her to giggle.

“Aight now, girl…don’t talk tough through the phone.”

“Do what I want and maybe I won’t.”

“Like I said, it’s a surprise. Settle down before I make you.”

“How will you do that exactly?”

“You want me to show you?”

Aaliyah twirled a strand of hair while nibbling on her lip.

“Aaliyah?”

“Show me when?”

“Tonight.”

“Can’t wait until tomorrow?” Aaliyah asked with a laugh.

“I’m afraid I can’t…feelin’ too heavy right now…”

Heavy? Aaliyah clenched her thighs. He was definitely heavy alright.

“Where you feelin’ heavy, Terry?”

He chuckled slightly and then a slight pause followed.

“…This dick you was sittin’ on.”

Aaliyah peeled the phone away from her ear and her eyes rolled shut. That glint in his voice…ooooh…this man…

“Mmm, It was heavy…”

“It is right now…right…now…”

Aaliyah liked where this was going. She placed a nail between her teeth, horniness reaching a fever pitch. Fuck it. She wanted this man. She’d played around for too long. It was time to get acquainted with that fat dick in all the possible ways. In her mouth, in her pussy, in her ass, dragging across her face…

“When I came back home Wednesday…I played with my pussy. That dick had me thinking about how good it’ll feel to stretch me out.”

“Fuck…”

Aaliyah could hear him in the background shuffling. She pictured he was freeing that heavy dick right now, gripping it up tight and swinging it back and forth. Ugh.

“I’ve never felt a print that heavy on me before…”

“Damn shame, baby…that pussy cat tight so I know I gotta fit all of me in there real slow. You like it slow?”

“Mhm,” Aaliyah tweaked her left nipple, “I can feel it all better that way.”

“Me too. Just watch my tip push in…keep them legs open while I sink deeper…”

The heat index in that living room was overwhelmingly high. Aaliyah molded her back into the cushion beneath her and spread her thighs. She could hear her pussy lips spread. A creamy sound. Staring down the valley of her gorgeous body, she rubbed two fingers between her folds to gather all that wetness on her clit.

——

Terry was seated on one of his accent chairs. Shrouded in an orange glow, he lazily twisted his stiffness and occasionally curled his fingers around his hefty sack, rolling it. Pre-cum connected to his briefs and it wouldn’t stop flowing the more that sweet voice in his ear teased him. He needed to bury himself to the fucking hilt deep in her. Fuck a plan for Friday. Terry wanted to fuck her fine ass stupid.

“I like to watch it go in and out…”

Terry grunted.

“I can’t wait to see that stuck look on your face when I put this dick up in you.”

“I bet it’s a pretty dick…”

“I bet that pussy pretty. Pretty pussy and her pretty mama…”

He squeezed the area beneath his tip, pre-cum coating his fingers for more slip.

“That dick in your hand, Terry?”

“Mhm…that tasty pussy out?”

“Yessss…I’m rubbing her right now.”

“How you play wit’ that pussy, baby?”

Aaliyah giggles, “I stroke my clit…then I push my fingers inside…go back and forth until I make myself cum…”

Terry chewed hard on his bottom lip and he closed his eyes to picture Aaliyah on her back and looking up at him with those sultry eyes.

“You know when I get you I’m eating that pussy good…”

“That’s what I want.” She replied with a breathy tone.

“I’m eating it ‘til you cry, baby…”

“Unh…”

“Do that again…make that sound again…”

“…Unh….”

His dick throbbed in his grip.

“When I stick my tongue in it I want you to look at me and moan just like that.”

“Yes, daddy…”

Terry’s hold tightened around his rigid pipe. He’d never been called daddy, but hearing it from Aaliyah, he wanted her to say it again and again.

“I don’t stop…even when that pussy cum…”

The faint sound of her wet pussy in his ear sparked him to pump faster. This was the most he’d beat his dick in a while. That Wednesday evening, while he was taking a long shower, Terry fucked up into his hand, water splashing and the slick soap creating the best sound and texture in the palm of his hand. His cum shot out like a spiderweb. The biggest cum load he’d seen in a long time. All because of her.

“Mm, fuck…”

Mewling and whimpering.

Terry felt the pressure rise from his balls to the tip of his dick in an instant. He was ready to let off a nut.

“Fuck…Aaliyah…I need you on this dick…right fuckin’ now…I hear that pussy talking…keep fingering that pussy…uh-huh…good girl…such a gooooddd girl…”

“Uhhhhnnn—”

“There you go…let it out…let it all out—FUCK—”

“Cum for me, daddy!”

Terry tilted his dick towards his taut abdomen and painted it with his thick cum. The more he stroked, the more the puddle grew.

“Goddamn…”

“I wish I was there to lick it up…”

His dick twitched.

“I bet you don’t miss a drop.”

“I just know it taste good…”

“You think that throat ready for me?”

“As many times I’ve fantasize about sucking that big dick beneath your desk, I’m more than ready.”

Terry couldn’t believe how hard he still was. He scrunched his face up with arousal and he was unable to contain his excitement to finally get a chance to feel that throat. She probably sounded like an angel slurping and sucking on dick. Her soft moans around his tip…that jeweled tongue lining the path his veins created…spit drooling from her greedy mouth while she looked him in the eyes like a good little slut.

“Fuuuck.”

Terry watched in disbelief as another eruption hit him. He didn’t even touch it. Mouth agape, eyes low and sleepy–like, he watched his dick jump and spasm as more cum escaped his slit. He titled his head back and grabbed himself, jerking to empty his balls fully.

“Professor…”

The sound of liquid hitting a surface titillated his ears.

Fuck. She was squirting.

“Aaliyah…fuck, baby…are you squirting?”

“Yes!”

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you…cute ass moans…I just wanna make you cry and cream. Wish I could kiss that pretty girl goodnight, huh, baby?”

“Just as much as I wish I could wrap my lips around that dick. Send me a pic of your cum.”

Terry aimed his camera on his abdomen and snapped a quick photo before sending.

“Holy shit…that’s a lot…so much wasted…”

She sounded mesmerized. Terry loved that.

A text came through from Aaliyah and it was a photo as well. A photo of her fingers and a large wet spot on her bed. That pussy was nice and messy like he liked. Terry loved it extra gushy. If he had to play in it to get it drippy like he wanted it before fucking it he’d do it for as long as he could. He wanted that shit tangled in his pubic hair, painting his dick, and hanging from his balls.

He wanted that shit so sloppy that his dick would thrust with ease. Bonus points if he painted her walls with his cum. Mixed releases making that pussy talk. She would be sick of him. Begging him to stop. All while he continued to drill. Beat it and eat it. Over and over. He had the stamina to prove it.

“Good girl, that’s how you play in that pussy…my tongue is itching for a taste of that sweet shit again…”

“It’ll be all yours tomorrow.”

Terry pouted slightly.

“I’m gonna go…I need another shower.”

“Me too,” He stared down at the cum stains on his skin, “See you in the afternoon. Hope I didn’t keep you from your studies for that test tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I studied earlier. I’m ready. I needed this though, it’s been a while…”

“Happy to be of service. Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Nite, handsome. Think of me.”

“I plan on it.”

——

The slim–fit, black button down of his shirt was the first distraction for Aaliyah.

She’d made it to campus early, not dressed in her usual style of relaxed attire. To her defense, it was drastically humid outside. Aaliyah wore a red, flabby skirt with a flannel shirt over a basic white tee. On her feet she had on a pair of low, all white converse. Her sleek hair was pulled back from her face with a black claw clip and situated over her eyes were her squared, black frames.

Aaliyah found an unoccupied table within the study hall near class and used that hour to do a final look–over of her notes. Her leg bounced beneath the desk as time went. After taking a sip of water through her Stanley cup, Aaliyah could hear the sound of dress shoes against vinyl composition tile. She looked up through her lashes and fought the urge to smile when their eyes connected.

Last night flooded her mind again.

And she knew the same had happened to him.

Sexual tension so thick between them.

The tickle at the pit of her stomach caused her thighs to squeeze together tightly. It wasn’t the brightest thing to do, because now her clit was throbbing. Silently urging her to feed into that tingling sensation. Those green eyes could see right through her. Aaliyah allowed others to fill into the room first. Her eyes fell to his retreating back and then her gaze traveled down until she was staring at his ass sitting profoundly within his black slacks.

Distraction number two.

She wanted to sink her nails into it while he fucked her deep.

“Excuse me…”

Aaliyah was blocking the path towards the laptops for their exam. Gathering herself, she made way for the other students to pass.

“As soon as everyone has their assigned laptops, you can get started. You have an hour. After that, you’re free to leave. If you have any questions, simply raise your hand and I will come to you.”

Aaliyah had a ton of questions.

Why is your dick so big?

What position do you want me in first?

Can I ride your face?

In her seat now, Aaliyah opened her laptop and after locating her exam, she dived right in. So far, the multiple choice and short answer questions weren’t too difficult. After selecting B for the 20th question, Aaliyah’s eyes glanced up and Terry was pacing the front of the class. He caught her staring and with a disapproving look, he tilted his head towards her lap top for her to finish. Aaliyah held in a giggle and went back to doing her exam.

So much for breezing through. The closer she got to the finish line, the more challenging the questions became. She re-read the short answer question, eyes flicking to the remaining time. She had ten minutes left and eight questions remaining. That wasn’t enough time to waste. Her hand shot up in the air and Terry headed over towards her. He settled in front of her desk and slightly bowed his head so that he could whisper to her. Aaliyah connected eyes with him.

“Yes, Miss Davenport?” He said with a hushed tone and a stern expression.

Distraction number three.

“I’m confused on this question here…”

Her finger pointed to her screen. Terry blinked his bluish–green eyes away from her distractingly–beautiful face to see exactly which question she was having trouble with. Aaliyah watched his lips move as he silently read the question.

Distraction number four.

“What constitutes the nature of right and wrong?”

He glanced at her.

“It’s not a trick question, Miss Davenport. That’s all I can give you. I’d hurry along…you have seven minutes left and eight questions remaining.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Terry gave her one final look before slipping away, the scent of his cologne remained however. Aaliyah typed in the best answer she could give and then she finished the remaining multiple choice questions to the best of her ability. The exam closed and the subtle sounds of groaning and lip smacking from other students meant that they didn’t have time to finish.

She hoped she did well. Closing her laptop, Aaliyah lifted from her seat to put it away. Terry was talking closely with a student. Aaliyah didn’t want to make it obvious by sticking around, so she grabbed her things and left the room. Out in the hall, she released a sigh of relief, noticing a few classmates huddled around to discuss the exam. Aaliyah sauntered over to hear what they were saying, agreeing about specific questions and happy that others mirrored her choices. Professor Terry exited the lecture hall with his briefcase in hand. Aaliyah watched him turn rightward, signaling to her that he was on his way to his office.

She didn’t have any other plans that afternoon. She waited until everyone dispersed before walking to his office. As she drew closer, the realization of what she was about to do begun to take hold of her body. Her footsteps came to an abrupt halt in front of a commercial wooden door with a privacy glass panel. A metal plaque hung above the window with the words: Professor Richmond’s Office engraved in it.

Aaliyah glanced from one end of the silent hall to the other. She raised a fist and knocked three times. The distant sound of footsteps followed by the jiggling of the door handle caused her breath to hitch. The door creaked open and Terry peeked his head out at her. Aaliyah entered and Terry pulled her around the door so fast her feet were levitating from the floor.

His door shut with a muffled click.

Terry reached down and snatched her school bag from her hand and her cup. He placed her things on a small table before picking her up. Aaliyah gasped, legs being forced around his waist and locking at the ankles. Terry pressed his forehead against hers before pressing his lips into hers. They settled into a fervent kiss, loud smacking followed by soft exhales filling the cluttered office. The distant sound of an old grandfather clock ticking and the occasional car past the tiny window filled her ears.

Terry’s big hands cuffed Aaliyah’s ass through her skirt. The soft almost silky material glided over her skin in the best way. Heads swiveling, tongues moving in a desperate motion, they continued to explore each other’s mouths, never coming up for air. His mouth tasted like kiwis and ginger. His lips were moist and soft. Aaliyah’s hands clung to his shoulders. Terry kept one hand on her ass and then the other smoothed up her slender back.

“Terry…”

Aaliyah unraveled her legs and Terry let her down gently. She peeled away from him to look around his office. She’d never seen the interior of it. How was he moving around such a small space with his big stature? She almost bumped into a pile of books but Terry stopped them from tumbling over with his hands. Aaliyah giggled into her hand, apologizing for her clumsiness.

“How do you get anything done in here?” Aaliyah asked.

“I don’t spend too much time here. There’s years worth of history, that’s how I found this,” Terry presented the little book to her that he carried with him and read passages from during lecture, “A lot of great points on these old pages…”

Aaliyah skimmed through the dusty spines of old texts. Terry watched her with his arms folded behind his back. She looked back at him over her shoulder with a teasing smirk.

“It’s a little stuffy in here,” Aaliyah removed her flannel shirt, “Much better…”

Terry’s eyes scanned her body slowly.

“That skirt is a choice…what made you wear that today?”

He tilted his head at her with a knowing look.

“It’s so hot out…”

Terry hummed. He didn’t take his eyes off of Aaliyah as he rolled up the sleeves to his button down shirt.

“Didn’t stop you from wearing sweat pants and hoodies before, Miss Aaliyah. Who do you think you’re fooling?”

Aaliyah simply giggled.

“C’mere…”

Terry curled a finger, beckoning her over. Aaliyah placed the tip of her tongue between her teeth and with a sinuous grin she slowly approached Terry, never taking her eyes off of him. He stared down at her short frame while leaning against his desk.

“I had a good time on the phone with you last night,” Terry stroked her chin with his thumb, “You’re such a nasty girl…”

His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip. Terry glided his thumb across it, rubbing in her gloss. That same thumb slipped into her mouth and Aaliyah’s lips wrapped around it and started sucking. She sucked hard. Terry cocked his head, watching her with those powerful eyes. His own lips parted and his pink tongue sat in the corner of his lips.

“You want something to suck on?”

Aaliyah nodded her head, batting those pretty lashes at him all innocent. She was far from innocent.

“Show me that tongue…there you go…”

Aaliyah poked her tongue out for him. Terry stroked her tongue, playing with her tongue ring.

“Can’t wait to feel this on my dick…”

He looked so articulate with his glasses but that mouth on him was deliciously freaky. Another box on her list checked off. He can talk you through it.

“Pretty mouth…such a pretty mouth…”

His thumb slipped from between her lips and Aaliyah dropped to her knees instantly. As she went to work, her eyes never left his. The sound of his belt and the zipper was so loud it was almost deafening. Terry lifted his shirt a little higher, revealing cut muscle with a deep v–cut. Aaliyah’s lustrous eyes noticed a vein along his hip leading down. With a final tug of his pants, that dick she’d been dying to see bobbed out.

The two–toned complexion of his pleasure rod was beautiful. Deep veins created a sinful texture along the girth of his shaft. To be fat and long was a blessing. Terry was blessed. Heavy balls sat tight and suckable. That tip was fat and wet from precum. That big dick jumped in her face. Aaliyah’s eyes slowly ascended to meet his. Terry was staring down at her with silent dominance. His musk mixed with whatever soap he’d used to wash with filled her nose and it almost made her eyes roll.

Touching him and feeling the heat of his manhood sparked a deeper appreciation for that heavy dick. Whatever earlier reservations she had about fucking her professor went straight out the window. Aaliyah’s eyes slowly followed the path her fingers took caressing his well–hung dick. There wasn’t much else to say. The expression on her face was enough to tell.

“Go ‘head put that dick in your mouth.” Terry commanded.

His deep voice. Aaliyah whimpered.

“Closed mouths don’t get fed, baby…”

Aaliyah’s eyes remained locked on him and her tongue licked from the base to the tip. Terry’s brows pinched together slightly when her tongue swirled around his tip. He gripped the edge of his desk like he’d do in class, long fingers holding on so tight the veins in his arms and hands bulged. Aaliyah kissed his pink tip lovingly. The tip is her favorite part. Spongy and sensitive. Terry’s bedroom eyes fringed with thick lashes watched with an unblinking stare. His full lips were parted a fraction.

Aaliyah finally wrapped her lips around him and Terry took it upon himself to remove her claw clip. His long, thick fingers threaded through her sleek strands, pulling it into his fist. Aaliyah never took her eyes off of him. She used her hands to push his shirt up further so she could see that six pack. She’d wanted this dick in her mouth since the bachelor party. The way he looked at her like he wanted to devour her. How possessive he became when Darell tried to suck on her finger.

“You suckin’ it like you wanted this dick for a long time…”

“Mhm…”

Aaliyah worked her neck and jaws. He had this look on his face like he couldn’t believe such a sexy bitch was on her knees worshipping his big dick.

“You’re so sexy…oh, fuck, so sexy, baby…suck that dick…good girl…that’s my good little student…”

The slurping sounds grew louder. Spit bubbles and thick saliva trickled down her neck. She didn’t care about the sloppy mess. Neither did he. Aaliyah gripped his muscular thighs and focused all her energy into making him cum with her mouth. She was sucking the dick for her pleasure, not his. After seeing all that cum on him in that photo last night, she’d been feigning to swallow it all. She just knew it tasted good.

“Damn, gorgeous,” Terry gripped his dick and slapped it on Aaliyah’s tongue, “look at that tongue ring…nasty girl…unnhhh…you love the way this dick feel in your mouth, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah puckered her lips for Terry to slap his heft on it.

“I’ve wanted to do this to you for months now…I finally got you on your knees…right where you belong…you’ve teased me for a minute now…you had me ticked off with all that fuckin’ teasing shit…”

Terry forced his dick further down her throat. Aaliyah gagged. She pushed at his thighs and quirked a brow up at him with a smile on her spit–covered lips.

“Open your mouth…”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out further and presented her throat to him. Terry could see her uvula dangling and the cavity where his dick belonged. He plunged back in with a fist full of Aaliyah’s soft hair.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…good girl…that’s what you do, hear me? You follow directions…”

Terry picked up the paced and started fucking her throat. Aaliyah felt hot tears prick her eyes. She breathed through her nose and allowed her fine as fuck professor to dig her throat out. He tugged on her hair, his dick falling out her mouth.

“Uhn uh,” Terry pressed his face closer to hers with a dangerous look in his eyes, “Spit on it…more…spit on my shit…good girlllllll…slurp it up…I said slurp it, Aaliyah.”

Aaliyah went to work on that dick, hand between her legs rubbing her clit with her panties to the side. Terry was falling into her trap. She locked eyes and swallowed his nine inches whole and that had him losing his damn mind. He let go of her hair and braced himself on the desk while Aaliyah two–hand stroked with her mouth suckling.

Terry had to remove his glasses.

Those green eyes narrowed and she could see them roll almost to the back of his head. His mouth opened and a punctuated sigh followed by a groan escaped his mouth. His brows raised when she sucked gently on his balls while stroking his dick. To see him come undone had her pussy dripping. She was dripping onto the carpet.

“Aaliyah, FUCK,” he said through clenched teeth, “yeah? You love this dick, huh? Make this dick cum, fuck, don’t stop…ughhhhhhhhhnnnnn…..”

Terry cradled her head as his body seized up. He locked eyes with her, dick throbbing in her throat. Heavy spurts of cum enough to choke on released and she sucked it down happily. The palatable taste was so delicious she wanted more. Aaliyah’s lips popped off his dick and she stood, wiping the corners of her mouth like she’d just enjoyed a meal. Terry didn’t take his eyes off of her. Aaliyah snatched up some tissue to clean off her chin and neck.

“You okay there, Terry?” Aaliyah teased.

Terry exhaled with a shake of his head. Aaliyah cleaned him off as best as she could before putting his still hard dick back in his pants. She patted his bulge before kissing his cheek.

“I’ll leave you to it then, See you tonight—”

Terry grabbed her hand to stop her from walking away. He’d finally found his voice after that killer throat work Aaliyah gave him. He pulled her into him and rammed his tongue in her mouth.

One hand lifted her skirt up. The fingers on his other hand wrapped around the back of her panties and pulled.

Hard.

——

A tearing sound.

Aaliyah gasped.

He’d torn her panties to shreds.

Was he going to fuck her against the desk?

A knock came to the door.

Aaliyah tensed up.

Terry placed a finger to his mouth to shush her.

“Yes?” Terry replied to the knocking.

“Sorry to disturb you, Terry. It’s Jacqueline. I was wondering if you still plan to attend the meeting this afternoon with the advisors?”

Terry picked Aaliyah up and sat her on his office chair. He threw each leg over the arms of the chair. Aaliyah cut her eyes at the door. She could make out the silhouette of Jacqueline beyond the privacy glass.

“I plan to attend, when does it start?” Terry got down on his knees and with both hands he tugged on Aaliyah’s hips roughly, bringing her ass over the edge of the chair.

“In an hour. There will be lunch. It’s in conference room A today…”

The wheels slid across the carpet from Terry positioning Aaliyah with her legs wide open. Her skirt had ridden up and right before his eyes was Aaliyah’s pussy.

“Good…because I’m starving…”

Terry looked into Aaliyah’s eyes with intensity.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Terry waited until her footsteps disappeared. He shot up to his feet, long legs leading him to the door. He checked that it was locked before situating himself on his knees again. Terry needed to take a moment to just…admire it.

Smooth, brown, pink center, wet and creamy. Fat lips with fleshy folds made for sucking. Clit nice and hard. Definitely a pretty pussy.

“I ain’t wanna be rude and tell her to fuck off…damn, Aaliyah…damn…”

Terry used his thumbs to spread her. Aaliyah hid her face against her left knee. Each time he would spread her, you could hear the creamy sound of her entrance. He needed to stop playing with it like that. Aaliyah was losing her damn mind.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Terry licked his lips, “You like the way I call your pussy pretty?”

Aaliyah replied with a, “Uh-huh,” with the back of her pointer finger situated between her lips.

“I love how misty your eyes look right now…you need this pussy ate, don’t you pretty girl?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah replied with her sweet voice laced with lust, “Can you talk to me while you eat it, daddy?”

Terry used one thumb to raise the hood on her clit while his other hand had a firm grasp on the chair to keep it in place. He didn’t need it sliding away while he devoured. Without further ado, Terry’s tongue poked out and flattened against her wide open pussy. He put his face in it with his nose pressed against the top of her pussy.

Aaliyah had to bite down on the back of her hand to stop from crying out. Terry’s tongue felt like a tentacle slithering and wiggling on spots that had her eyes crossing. His lips sucked with light pressure on her clit.

“Terry…Terry…Terry…”

He looked at her and it was the most beautiful thing ever. She couldn’t keep her eyes focused on him. That mouth had her seeing the galaxy. Aaliyah’s breathy moans fueled him to go harder. He placed his arms over her spread thighs to keep them back and focused all his energy into making her cum in his mouth. That fat tongue poked her hole as deep as it could go and his lips suckled her clit. He would alternate between light stokes to flickers.

“You taste so good,” Terry smiled at her before licking her clit again, “So sweet…”

“HUH—”

She had to cover her mouth when he circled her clit with his tongue.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that…watch the way I eat you up…”

Aaliyah could only moan. Whenever she tried to speak, Terry would do something with his tongue and lips and it would shut her up. She did make sure to keep his mouth right where it belonged. She had a hand on his head.

“You just keep creaming on my tongue…”

“Why you taste so fuckin’ good, huh?”

“Keep those pretty eyes on me…”

“You know how much I’ve longed to put my mouth on this?”

“Cum in my mouth, now…”

Thighs quivering, body shaking…

“Fuck, Terry, I’m cummingggggggg,” Aaliyah whispered with a tremble in her voice.

She enclosed his face between her thighs and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her mouth dropped open into a silent scream. Soft squeaks leading into tiny whimpers filled his ears. Terry ate her through her orgasm.

When she finally relaxed he gave her soft kisses to her pussy and she dragged her nails through his short curls. Terry peeked up at her and smirked and Aaliyah smiled.

“Kiss me…”

Terry leaned in and Aaliyah swiped her tongue over his lips. Terry parted his lips for her and they tongue kissed.

He broke the kiss, fixing her skirt before standing. Aaliyah stood and her eyes fell to the torn pieces of fabric that was her panties. They both laughed before Terry cleaned it up and tossed it in his briefcase. He’d discard it later, not wanted to leave any evidence behind. Aaliyah took her time fixing her hair in a wall mirror near the door. The scent of her pussy in his mustache caused him to use his fingers to push his upper lip against his nose.

“What time are you picking me up tonight?”

Aaliyah fluffed her hair while looking back at Terry over her shoulder with those eyes he always got lost in. His brown–eyed girl.

“What time are you picking me up?” She asked again

Terry couldn’t help but to lick his lips as he placed his glasses on, “Six. Dinner reservations are at eight–forty–five. It’s in N’awlins. And I was thinking…it’ll probably be best if you pack something light to take with you. Figured it’d be smarter to stay there for the night instead of driving an hour or so back home, ya know?”

Aaliyah settled between his legs and Terry wrapped his arms around her while her arms draped over his shoulders.

“I have plans with some girls on Saturday, Terry…”

“Postpone. With the way I plan on having you, it won’t be a girls night…”

Aaliyah giggled. She pecked his lips a couple times before staring into his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll reschedule.”

“Good,” Terry kissed her neck, “Wear something sexy…with the tallest heel…I love how your legs look when you wear them…”

“Your wish is my command.” Aaliyah whispered against his lips.

She slipped away from him and Terry reached out to pop her on the ass with a bite of his lip. Aaliyah looked back at him with flirty eyes while bending over to retrieve her bag and cup. When she straightened back up. She walked to the door, stopping short to lift her skirt and make her ass clap. She gave him a lick of her lips before leaving him in a daze.

——

Aaliyah flung a few choices on her canopy bed. The sheer, black curtains rubbed against her naked body as she stared between the three choices. A short, black cocktail dress, a form–fitting red dress with a plunging neckline, and a floral summer dress with a high split and her back out. Time was ticking and she still needed to pack her bag. Aaliyah went with the summer dress since she hadn’t worn it yet. She stood in front of her mirror and slipped it on over her skin that glistened from the cocoa radiance body oil she used. It was a sexy dress that would be enough to tease him throughout the night.

Aaliyah packed her bag with an orange bodycon dress, gold sandals to match with accessories, underwear, a satin slip to sleep in, hygiene and hair care needs, some flip flops, a hoodie, and a pair of sweats. Out in her living room, Aaliyah sat on her couch to strap on her stiletto red bottoms. She went for a more glamorous makeup look and a brown lip combo that accentuated her bow–shaped lips.

She’d gone through with canceling her plans for Saturday and it spurred her girls to question her about the man she was spending the weekend with. She didn’t disclose anything to them about Terry, not because he’s her professor, but because she wanted to enjoy him. Her friends didn’t need to know anything right now.

A knock to her door brought her to her feet and Aaliyah peered through her peephole. Terry was standing there dressed in all black with Christian Dior loafers on his feet and a Rolex on his left wrist. He was holding a bouquet of red roses. Aaliyah opened the door and greeted Terry with a megawatt smile and bright eyes. He smiled back at her, opening her storm door to enter her home.

The aura and energy of Aaliyah’s home matched her personality. Seductive and sensual. Low ambience, darker color scheme, the subtle hint of a bitter-sweet floral fragrance. Terry kissed her lips before presenting the roses for her. Aaliyah thanked him and they walked towards her kitchen where she replaced the dying tulips in a vase on her small, dining table with Terry’s roses.

They were on a tight schedule, so Terry led Aaliyah out of her home and down the stairs carefully. His Hellcat with a glossy, beet–red finish awaited them. He opened her door and helped her inside before jogging around to his side. They set off for an hour drive, Terry’s jazz playlist the perfect mood. He couldn’t stop stealing glances at Aaliyah and saying how beautiful she looked. She returned the compliment, saying how handsome he is.

They talked about anything under the moon and laughed at moments. Aaliyah spilled tea and Terry clung onto every word. It definitely helped to keep the long drive going. The thrill of seeing Terry again stirred within her as she listened to him talk. They arrived to their destination, a hotel not far from the restaurant. Bourbon Street was a five minute walk. Terry and Aaliyah entered the spacious hotel lobby. Aaliyah settled next to him at the receptionist desk while he checked them in. Two sleek, black key cards were given to him. They had a room on the third floor.

The hotel had a spooky element to it, reminding Aaliyah of something straight out of the 1800s. The red walls and old–time chandeliers made her feel as if she’d stepped into a Time Machine. They found their room and when they entered, Terry flicked on the lights. They had a king bed with a mirrored wall behind the bed and another full-body mirror near the entrance to the bathroom. There was a standing shower and a double sink as well as a balcony.

Terry checked the time and they had about ten minutes. Leaving the hotel for now, they walked hand in hand, Aaliyah making sure to bring her black clutch with her. After three minutes, they reached their destination. GW Fins was considered a fine dining establishment. Terry opened the door for Aaliyah and with her hand in his, they waltzed up to the hostess. Terry gave his last name and when he was found on the list, the hostess led them past several packed tables until they reached a private booth with candle light.

Settled, they stared at each other, legs touching and their mingled scents lingering. Terry caressed her knee and Aaliyah stroked his Rolex. A waiter sauntered over and filled their glasses with ice cold water. They were too busy eye–fucking each other to notice. The waiter cleared his throat and Terry pulled his gaze away slowly to look up at him. He ordered a Cabernet Sauvignon with carmelized onion tarts and lamb chop bruschetta.

“You look amazing.”

Aaliyah smiled into her glass of wine.

Terry peppered kisses along her neck. Shisha tobacco and intense Bourbon Vanilla flooded her nose from his Smoky cologne. His thumb caressed her knee softly and it had her clit pulsating with need. They ate their appetizers and got drunk off of the expensive wine. When their waiter came around again, Terry ordered their entrees. Some fancy seafood dish Aaliyah couldn’t recall the name of because she was too busy giggling.

“Here’s to more dates together in the near future,” Terry said.

They clinked glasses. Terry eyed her over the rim of his glass while Aaliyah gave him a slight smirk with those beautiful lips.

“Speaking of dates…maybe this is too soon…would you be my plus one to Mike’s wedding?”

Aaliyah blinked at Terry with slight shock.

“Really?” She questioned, not sure if she’d heard him correctly.

“Yeah. I want you to accompany me, Aaliyah.”

She took a sip of her wine.

“…you don’t think they’ll recognize me?”

“…from the bachelor party?”

“Yes…”

Terry’s right brow elevated and he shrugged, “I really don’t care what they think. You’re with me, not them.”

Aaliyah was too stunned by his remark.

“Okay. I’ll be your date.” She agreed.

Aaliyah simmered down her nervousness at being surround by the men that saw her half-naked and his parents who would surely find out that she’s an exotic dancer. Aaliyah drowned out her worries with another heaping glass of red wine. It finally warmed her blood. Her desire for the professor came on heavy and intense like those green eyes of his. Aaliyah propped her elbow on the table and combed her fingers through her hair while staring into his eyes.

Terry looked away and down at his glass while Aaliyah raised his chin for him to focus on her again.

“That drink isn’t going anywhere, Professor.”

She crossed one shapely leg over the other and his eyes were drawn there like a magnet.

“How long before you washed the scent of my pussy off your lips?”

It was the wine. The wine was making her bolder.

Terry scanned the area before responding. He gave her a look that shook her core. The faintest smirk painting his lips.

“As long as I could. But I knew I’d get a taste again.”

“You will…I plan to ride your face.”

Terry laughed. Aaliyah giggled softly before trailing her hand up his thigh and her heeled foot up his leg. Terry’s eyes fell to her heeled foot situated between his legs. With the tips of his fingers, he stroked the top of her exposed foot with a feather–like motion. Aaliyah nibbled on the rim of her glass.

“And I plan to fuck you all over that hotel room.”

That deep voice. That bass. Aaliyah was no more good. Fuck poised, she wanted to hop on that big dick.

“Everywhere, Aaliyah.”

“Good thing I’m on birth control.”

Terry laughed, eyes squinted and smile big and bright. What she really wanted to say was good thing they’re both clean and up to date on screenings like responsible adults because she’d much rather he cream pie her—

“You’re funny…”

“And you’re fine as hell…I can’t help the reckless shit that just comes out of my mouth.”

“You sound so cute when you curse.”

Their food arrived and it was a type of seafood linguine. Unable to finish the rest, Aaliyah slid her plate away and decided to take hers to go since there is a microwave in the hotel room. Terry raised a hand and motioned for the waiter to come over with a slice of chocolate cake and the check.

“The night is still young, think you can hang for a bit before we get back to the hotel?” Aaliyah questioned.

“I’m okay with that, baby. I think you should hit the restroom first after all that wine.” Terry suggested.

Good idea.

Aaliyah slipped away and to the bathroom.

——

Noisy. Raucous. Nocturnal. For many New Orleans visitors, Bourbon Street embodies the life of a party town. The street is lit by neon lights, throbbing with music and decorated by beads and balconies. Bourbon Street has become a place for revelry of all sorts. With its windows and doors flung open to the wandering crowds.

Aaliyah and Terry blended in with the crowd of drunk people. His tight clutch on her hand alerted anyone around them that she belonged to him and it would be best not to try anything. They decided on a bar that played trap music, both of them slipping inside. The red wine had begun to wear off and Terry needed something stiffer. Top shelf bourbon. Aaliyah wanted chilled patron shots. Terry paid cash and they enjoyed their drinks while vibing to the music.

Aaliyah would whine her hips on Terry, rubbing that big booty all over his growing erection. He grabbed her hips and did his own slow grind, catching the attention of patrons that watched with interest. Aaliyah loved to see the wild side of Terry. She made her ass move with quick skill whenever the DJ would put on a bounce mix.

They continued to bar hop, tripping off of people and drinking their fill. In one bar, Aaliyah made Terry her camera man. He recorded videos of her twerking and lifting her dress quickly to reveal nothing underneath. The risk thrilled her and Terry seemed to enjoy it as well. He stole every chance to bend her over a table or a bar so she could rock those hips on him.

Back out on the street, they accepted beads and Terry recorded Aaliyah walking towards him with a model–strut, flashing her titties and jiggling them. He couldn’t wait to suck on those big, brown nipples. Aaliyah complained of her feet hurting, so they stopped inside of a gift shop and Terry purchased a cheap pair of flip flops. He crouched down and took her heels off one–by–one. Terry held them as they walked back to the hotel.

Terry held the door open for Aaliyah and they stumbled over towards the elevators with laughter. On the elevator, Aaliyah pulled her dress down again and Terry pushed her against the wall and bent down to wrap his lips around a hard nipple. He sucked and Aaliyah palmed his erection. The elevator dinged and Terry fixed the front of her dress. He picked Aaliyah up and threw her over his shoulder while he opened the door. The green light flashed and he proceeded inside, placing the do not disturb sign on the outside of the door.

The distant sound of the lively French Quarter could be heard beyond the balcony. Terry flicked on all the lights. He needed that room to be fully bright. Aaliyah kicked off her flip flops. Terry proceed to take off his shirt. Aaliyah looked at him and the realization of what was about to happen washed over her face. She excused herself to the bathroom and Terry gave her space to get situated. Meanwhile, he completely undressed, sinewy body with vigorous muscles and a swole dick on full display.

The door to the restroom opened and Aaliyah walked out, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Terry standing before her fully naked. He approached her and started undressing her with his lips molding into hers. They swapped spit and flicked tongues as the dress slipped down her body and pooled around her feet.

Terry broke their searing kiss to press his forehead against her temple. He stared down at her perky breasts sitting full and round with protruding nipples.

“You’re all mine,” Terry whispered in her ear, his fingers twirling her nipples, “I’m gon’ show you…”

Those big lips of his sucked on her tongue and bottom lip. Aaliyah whimpered into his mouth and thrust her chest forward from Terry tugging on her nipples. The sensation shot straight to her clit.

“Liyah Allure? That’s who I’m getting tonight?”

She felt his dick bounce against her thigh. This man was concrete hard and ready to fuck.

“Yes, daddy…”

They flicked tongues and then Terry abruptly turned Aaliyah around. He arched her over the bed.

“Pop that wet puss…”

Terry’s hand came down on her ass and he gave it a sharp slap. Aaliyah hissed.

“Big ass butt…”

His rough tone stunned her.

Aaliyah grabbed her ankles and started moving that ass. Each time her cheeks spread Terry could see that sweet pink. He stroked himself as he watched her twerk. Aaliyah flipped her hair over and locked eyes with Terry, biting her bottom lip. She eyed the way the vein on the underside of his dick throbbed.

“Mhm, just like that. Do it like that, baby, fuck…”

His body is sculpted to the gods. The muscles in his thighs flexed in conjunction with his abs. Those biceps bulged and it caused the veins in his arms and hands to become more prominent. Honeyed skin so smooth. Heavy balls. Long, thick pipe. This man was on another level of fine.

Aaliyah made her ass clap again.

“I want you right now…”

Aaliyah felt his dick press between her cheeks. Terry brought one hand around to cup her jaw. The other hand reached down between her legs and started rubbing her clit.

“Ooo, Terry…”

He started stoking his dick between her cheeks.

“Big ol’ ass…shit don’t make no sense…pretty titties…you got it all…everything I fuckin’ need…”

“Take what you need…use me…”

“Ooo, use you?” Terry sank two fingers deep inside of her, “you sure you can handle it?”

“I can…can you handle this pussy?”

Terry chuckled, “What you think I’m doing now?”

Aaliyah’s knees buckled.

“…Miss Davenport, keep still…” Terry whispered his command.

“If I don’t?”

Terry shut her up with his thumb on her clit.

“I’ll cuff you.”

Terry’s fingers slipped out and he turned Aaliyah around to face him before thrusting the two fingers that were inside of her into her mouth. Terry gave her an unblinking stare while pushing further and further to the back of her throat. Aaliyah worried her brows and the urge to gag crept up her body.

“Mm–mm, eyes on me.”

She gagged.

“Open up…relax…relax…such a good girl…on your knees.”

Terry watched Aaliyah get on her knees on the bed. He wanted her arched so he could have access to her ass and pussy from the back. Aaliyah grabbed him by the balls and force–fed her throat big dick. Terry dragged his bottom lip into his mouth and hummed his approval.

Gawk gawk gawk gawk…

So rigid and unyielding.

“I knew you were the woman for me. Look how you suckin’ this dick, look…”

Aaliyah could see herself in the mirror on the wall behind the bed. Her body arched with her ass in the air and her lips wrapped around his dick aroused her.

“See that, pretty baby?”

Terry caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Aaliyah never took her eyes off of the mirror.

“Too fine…”

Terry popped her ass. Aaliyah jerked with one hand while sucking.

“Get the balls…mhmmmmm….so nastyyyy….”

Terry had Aaliyah leaking. The way he talked to her alone could make her cum.

Aaliyah popped her lips off, “Big Daddy…” she moaned.

She two–hand jerked him while looking up at him with doe eyes. Eyes that told him she needed him deep inside of her. Terry grunted on repeat, the urge to cum creeping up and up—

“I’M FINNA BUST—”

Aaliyah stuck her tongue out and Terry erupted all over her lips and in her mouth.

With urgency, Terry went to lay down on his back with his head hanging over the end of the bed. He forced Aaliyah to grind on his face. She put her hands on her knees and rolled her hips over his face. Terry sucked, licked, and kissed. He reached up to hold her in place, stilling her movements while he worked his lips and tongue In tandem to make her cum. Aaliyah clung onto her weak knees and her entire body shook.

“TERRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!”

He didn’t stop. Aaliyah didn’t know whether to crawl away from his lethal mouth or stay still. This man knew her body better than any man she’d been with.

“Umph,” Aaliyah whimpered, “You’re making me cum…I’m cumming again…whew, fuck…oh shit!”

Terry gripped her waist to keep her on his face. Aaliyah intertwined her fingers with his while riding out her orgasm. When the tremble in her legs surpassed, Terry came to the surface with a moist face. Aaliyah lunged at him and Terry caught her, lifting her up.

He curled one arm beneath her left knee and with his other hand he rubbed the tip of his dick between her folds.

“Let me hear that sound I like…mmm…so wet…I love it messy, baby…enough for me to slide right in you…”

Aaliyah had never been fucked in this position. She was a little afraid. Terry sensed her nervousness and peppered kissed along her neck.

“Terry, it’s big…”

Aaliyah held onto him tightly. Heart pounding against his chest. He tried to settle her with a deep kiss. With the perfect distraction, Terry was finally able to feel her snug walls around his dick.

He pushed up into her and Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. A desperate moan against his lips with her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders was her initial reaction. That pussy, however, needed to be opened up.

——

“Relax for me, Aaliyah…where’s that big girl energy?”

Terry dropped her down and Aaliyah almost cut off his circulation with how much she squeezed him. Both arms curled beneath her knees now, Terry turned sideways in the full–length mirror and pounded up into her while bringing her down to meet his thrusts.

Aaliyah buried her face into his neck. Terry started off slow. He watched the way his dick disappeared then reappeared. Astonished wasn’t even the word.

“Look, baby…”

Aaliyah didn’t have the strength to look. She was buried with big dick and it was grazing her spot.

“I know, I know…”

Terry quickened his pace. Aaliyah could feel everything.

“Oh my god…” she whispered.

Terry palmed her ass and thrust up into her while keeping her stationary. Aaliyah’s toes curled under and she felt herself slipping. Terry crouched slightly to hike her up.

Aaliyah stares into his eyes while clinging onto him.

“Aaliyah…I’m going faster…you ready?”

Terry started pounding and Aaliyah cried out.

“Fuck…you gotta keep still…fuck this pussy is so good…been waitin’ to get in this pussy…”

“Uhm!!!! SHIT!”

She couldn’t believe how wet she was.

She couldn’t believe she was going to squ—

Terry was forced out from the sudden release of liquid. He slapped her clit to release more and then he rubbed it back and forth. His dick had a mixture of cream and wetness all over it.

Placing her on the bed, Terry arched Aaliyah’s back.

“With the way you put that ass in the air…you know how I want you.”

Aaliyah looked back at Terry. He looked her in the eyes and smirked at her. He sank right inside of her from behind. Terry caressed her ass and smoothed his hands down her back. Aaliyah wouldn’t keep still.

“What did I say? If you move, I cuff you…”

He’d been waiting to get up in her and put that dick on her something serious and she couldn’t follow directions? Terry was irritated. He slipped out and went to grab the cuffs. Aaliyah watched him return and secure her wrists.

“Can’t run now…I told you I’m getting in this pussy…”

He thrust in and Aaliyah could feel him in her belly.

“Big ass dick!”

“This big dick got you creamy, baby…”

Aaliyah’s muffled cries into the sheets were drowned out by the incessant clapping her ass was doing. Terry put a power behind his strokes that had her feeling it from the tippy–tip to the base. Direct thrusts and keeping the same stroke. This man went from lecturing her about the evolution of morality to talking her through it.

"Look at me while I fucking use you."

The sex was too good. Sex so good Aaliyah’s flustered and embarrassed from all the incoherent nonsense she was mumbling. Quite literally, she can't stop herself from burying her face in the pillow to hide how much she’s blushing and moaning.

Terry has her trapped with an iron hand.

She can’t focus on watching herself getting fucked. But Terry had other plans.

He grabbed Aaliyah buy the cuffs with one hand and his other hand wrapped around her throat from the front.

“I said watch the way I fuckin’ use you.” He barked out.

She could see the way her ass moved like a tidal wave. Terry trapped her with his eyes and as tears rolled down hers from how good and intense it felt he didn’t stop. He stayed on her spot.

“Shit yankin’ this dick…this good pussy and you think I’m not gon’ fuck you the way you deserve?”

Terry pressed his face against her ear and went…harder.

The clapping echoed.

He pressed his face into her hair and groaned when Aaliyah’s walls convulsed around him. She erupted so intensely that she had no control over her body. Terry took off the cuffs and massaged her wrists while kissing her temple.

Aaliyah gasped when he slipped out.

She couldn’t believe it. He was still HARD.

Terry went to lay on his back and he pulled Aaliyah close. She rested her head against his shoulder while He stroked her arm.

“Did you like it when I cuffed you?” Terry asked.

“I did. I liked it more than I thought I would.” Aaliyah smiled.

“Aaliyah…”

She looked up at him. Terry met her gaze.

“I really like you…and I want to take you on more dates and be serious about courting you. Is that okay?”

“…I really like you too, Professor. We can’t go public with this…At least not yet.”

“Definitely. You don’t have much longer to graduate, only a little less than two months…”

“I’d love to go on more dates with you and get to know you more…”

Aaliyah traced Terry’s nipple. With her cheeks pressed against his chest, she stared down at that beautiful dick.

“Are you tired yet?” Aaliyah questioned.

She sat up to stare down at him.

“I want you to fuck me more…”

“How you want it this time?”

Aaliyah trailed her hand down to grip him.

“I want my legs over your shoulders…I’m used to this dick now. I like the way it kisses the back of my pussy. Makes me cum each and every time…think you can do that for me?”

Terry sat up and Aaliyah crawled beneath him. He situated himself above her, holding himself up in a push–up position.

“We didn’t use a condom…”

Aaliyah realized that.

“If I cum in you…” Terry warned.

“Then paint me….”

Aaliyah brought her ankles over Terry’s shoulders. He lined himself up and with his eyes never leaving hers, he pushed deeper, her pussy enveloping him again. Aaliyah’s eyes shut and she extended her neck, releasing a longing sigh of joy.

“Yes…yesssss…yeeeesssssssahhhh…”

She loved it. Terry put his fists into the bed and went faster. They both watched his dick bury her over and over.

“Damn, Aaliyah…shit so…fuckin’…good…”

He punctuated his thrusts with his words.

Terry gave her nipples some more attention with his teeth and lips while his hips snapped into hers. The more he fucked, the more his big dick glided.

“Gettin’ that dick in you nice and easy now…this what I like…and you thought I wouldn’t fit…look at you now…taking it all…”

“Yea, Big Daddy, I love this dick,” Aaliyah moaned

They kissed. A deep kiss that had Terry’s hips coming to a complete stop. He was still deep inside of her, but those lips were a distraction. Terry’s lips slipped away and Aaliyah got lost in his green eyes while he fucked her. She nibbled on her lip and studied the way his handsome face crumbled with defeat.

“You wanna cum? Cum all over me with that big dick…”

“Ughhh–uhhhh–mmmmm—”

Faster.

“D–don’t st–top! Fuck your p–pussy!!!!”

“Aaliyah!”

Terry pulled out and pumped, thick, milky–white cum that painted her pussy lips, stomach, and titties.

“Mmm,” Aaliyah gathered some on her fingers and dragged it over her tongue while looking him in the eyes.

“Nasty girl…”

Aaliyah smiled at him before bringing her feet down to rest on his chest. Terry grabbed her feet and kissed her insteps, causing her to giggle.

He couldn’t wait to give her more dick.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[amirasainz]

Please write one with Norris!reader. She is competing in the Olympics with pair ice skating. Her and her partner win gold. Lando who is sadly in a different country for a race watches the performance with the other drivers. Everyone, like really everyone, is so happy that she won and is celebrating. Proud older brother Lando

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Golden

The bright lights of the stadium glinted off the ice, reflecting the high energy of the crowd as they waited for the final pair of skaters in the Olympic Pairs Free Skate competition: Y/N Norris and Thomas Liu. The audience had been buzzing for days about their challenging program, filled with complex lifts and intricate footwork. But while everyone in the packed arena held their breath in anticipation, there was someone thousands of miles away, nervously glued to a screen, who was probably even more tense than the crowd: Lando Norris.

Lando was in his race gear, sitting with a group of Formula 1 drivers in a hospitality suite that McLaren had set up for the race weekend. It was nearly midnight in this part of the world, but he’d made sure to arrange for a screen to be set up so he wouldn’t miss a single moment of his sister’s performance.

“Mate, you look like you’re about to race right now,” Carlos said, nudging Lando with a grin.

“Tell me about it,” Charles chimed in, laughing. “You’re sweating more than before a qualifying lap.”

Lando’s foot tapped against the floor nervously as he adjusted his position. “Guys, you don’t get it. Her program is… it’s insane. She and Thomas have been working on this routine for months, but it’s, like, terrifying. There’s this lift — he flips her over, mid-air — if it goes wrong…”

Max Verstappen raised his eyebrows, giving Lando a supportive pat on the shoulder. “You’ve got to have a little faith, man. She’s been working toward this for years. She’ll crush it.”

The feed cut to a shot of Y/N and Thomas taking their positions at center ice. Thomas’ hand reached out, giving Y/N a reassuring squeeze before the music started. Even from miles away, Lando could see the glimmer of determination in his sister’s eyes.

The routine began, and almost instantly, Lando’s hand went up to his mouth, his face contorted in a mix of pride and pure anxiety.

Carlos nudged him again. “She’s graceful out there, you know. Doesn’t even look nervous.”

“Yeah,” Lando replied, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. “She makes it look easy, but it’s not. Not even close.”

The other drivers had gathered around as well, all offering quiet words of encouragement, their own faces tense as they watched. Even Lewis, who was typically the calm and collected one, had his arms crossed tightly, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“She’s incredible,” Oscar murmured, shaking his head. “I didn’t know figure skating could be this intense.”

As the performance continued, Y/N and Thomas flawlessly executed their jumps and spins, moving in perfect sync, like two parts of a well-oiled machine. Then came the most challenging part of their program, the lift that Lando had mentioned.

Lando’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, gripping the edge of his seat. “Here it comes. This… this is it.”

Thomas skated backward, pulling Y/N into a complicated lift, where she twisted in mid-air before he caught her smoothly. For a moment, it looked like they might wobble, and Lando’s heart skipped a beat. But Y/N steadied herself and completed the maneuver with a look of pure confidence.

“Yes!” Lando punched the air, his face lighting up with pure, unfiltered joy. The drivers around him erupted in applause, patting him on the back, some even whistling in admiration.

The performance ended with Y/N and Thomas holding their final pose, frozen on the ice as the audience rose to their feet, the entire stadium erupting into cheers. Lando’s eyes were wide, his expression one of astonishment and pride as the scores flashed across the screen.

Gold.

“She did it…” Lando whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “She won gold. She actually won!”

The entire room broke out into celebration, with Charles and Carlos jumping around him, Max ruffling his hair, and Oscar giving him a quick, excited hug.

“Your sister’s an Olympic champion, mate!” George exclaimed, grinning widely.

“I told you!” Lando’s voice was loud with pride as he looked around the room, practically glowing. “My little sister just won gold. Do you all understand? Gold! Olympic gold!”

From across the room, Zak, who had been watching with a keen interest, raised a glass in Lando’s direction. “Congratulations, Lando. Quite the feat. She’s a Norris, after all.”

Lando laughed, his voice almost cracking as he replied, “Thanks. I think I’m more proud of her than I’ve ever been of anything.”

With a grin, Lando looked at the screen again, watching as Y/N and Thomas embraced each other on the ice, their eyes wet with happy tears as they took in the roaring applause of the crowd.

“Did I tell you guys she’s been skating since she was three?” Lando was practically bouncing as he regaled the room with tales of his sister’s determination. “She’d get up at five every morning to practice. And she’d never quit. Never.”

One of the F1 media team members overheard the conversation and couldn’t resist joining in. “I think we’ll need a press release from McLaren. ‘Lando Norris’ sister wins gold!’”

“Please do!” Lando laughed. “I’ll shout it from the rooftops myself if you don’t!”

The drivers laughed, and for the rest of the night, Lando didn’t stop talking about Y/N. Every person he passed, from engineers to team staff, he’d proudly announce, “Did you hear? My sister’s an Olympic champion!”

Carlos was laughing, shaking his head. “Lando, I think you’ve told everyone in the entire paddock at least three times already!”

“And I’ll tell them again!” Lando shot back, grinning ear to ear. “Did I mention? My little sister’s got an Olympic gold medal!”

Back on the screen, the ceremony began. Y/N stood on the podium with Thomas, a gold medal hanging around her neck. When they lifted their medals to the sky, the drivers raised their drinks in a toast to her from miles away.

“To Y/N Norris, Olympic champion!” they all cheered.

As the night went on, Lando’s pride didn’t wane for even a moment. He went on and on, telling anyone who would listen about her dedication, her talent, her hard work. And as he finally made his way back to his room, Lando couldn’t resist sending Y/N a message.

Lando: Y/N, I am the proudest brother in the world right now. I knew you could do it. You’re incredible, you know that?

A few moments later, his phone buzzed with a reply.

Y/N: I had the best brother in the world cheering for me. Thanks, Lando.

Lando smiled, putting his phone away, a warm sense of pride flooding through him. In his mind, there was no race, no podium, no championship that could ever compare to the feeling he had at this very moment. His sister was an Olympic champion, and he was—without a doubt—the proudest big brother in the world.

[moon-ttokki-x]

hihi can i request 66 w/ Jisung? Kind like crack were you are both dead sick or smth? anyway have a great day/sleep (๑>◡<๑) ur write is to die for btw

— anon 🐣📎

hihi yes you can~ sorry this took a while to post lol, lots of wips. aww thank you, giggling n kicking my feet rn <3 here you gooooo my little chick paperclip anon lol

hot soup - sick bf!han jisung x sick!reader

pairing: sick bf!han jisung x sick!reader

summary: you're suffering with jisung through a cold (that he gave to you)

genre: fluffy to the max, idol! au, this is honestly just crack, sick lil jisungie and reader

a/n: han would be the type of make funny noises when his nose is bunged up don't even try to change my mind

"You do it."

"No, you."

"I did it last time."

Jisung groans and heaves himself upright, tissues falling off the sofa like a mini avalanche. He sluggishly gets up and drags himself to the coffee table for the remote control, pressing the select button to play the next episode of the kdrama you're both watching.

He sniffs and flops back down on the couch next to you, groaning as the intro begins to play for the umpteenth time. "Y/n?"

His nose is bunged up so it sounds funny when he talks, and your voice is no better as you respond. "Mmm.."

"I'm hungry."

You whine and roll over, burying your face in the blanket. Jisung adjusts himself so you're lying on his chest, cuddled in each others' arms. Blankets swamp both of your bodies, so that if anyone were to look at both of you, they would see just a large lump of fabric. A very sniffly, sick, snotty lump of fabric at that.

You groan and let out an ungraceful sneeze, almost projecting yourself off the sofa. Jisung closes his eyes, mildly put out.

"I don't wanna get up," you sigh, burying your face back in his chest. He smells warm, the skin radiating feverish heat through the material of his hoodie, and the faint, spiced smell of vapour rub hangs distinctly in the air. Not that it seems to be helping. "But I'm hungry as well. What should we make?"

Jisung doesn't even have to open his mouth before you both agree on soup. There's a large pot in the fridge, courtesy of a disgusted Minho, who packed a bag and refused to return to the dorm until both of you were better.

The pot is about half full- you lift it with almost shaky arms and place it on the stove, switching on the heat. Jisung stands beside you as you begin to stir, watching how the chicken shreds and green onions spin in a mesmerising circle. Little oil bubbles rest on the top of the liquid, simmering deliciously as the soup heats up, and by the time it's ready, both of you are salivating.

You ladle half of the pot into each bowl and hand one to Jisung, who reaches into a drawer for a pair of chopsticks. You pause and watch as he sleepily dips them into the soup, clearly too dazed and ill-ridden to understand his amusing actions.

"Sungie," you croak, trying not to laugh. "It's soup."

"Mhm.."

"No," you correct him, "You can't eat soup with chopsticks..."

He blinks, once. Then twice. And then, very slowly, he adjusts his grip on the chopsticks and continue dipping them into the soup, bringing them to his mouth to lick off what little broth remains on the utensils.

You sigh and bring a spoonful of the hot, nourishing liquid to your mouth and groan as its warmth saturates the inside of your mouth, instantly comforting. You'll have to remember to thank Minho later, and maybe ask for the soup recipe too, so you can make it when you're not feeling so sick in the future.

You climb with some difficulty onto the counter and continue ladling the soup into your mouth while Jisung stands, sock-footed on the tiles, sluggishly licking broth off his chopsticks. You tilt your head at him.

"I still don't understand why you're doing that," you say quietly, letting the steam from your bowl soothe the congestion in your sinuses.

"Because," Jisung croaks. "My throat hurts and swallowing feels icky to me."

"That soup will be ice cold by the time you finally get to the bottom of it. That is, if you even make it that far. Go to sleep."

He whines and sets the bowl down, taking a plate from the dishrack to cover it. "You're telling me to sleep as if you don't look like a walking zombie yourself..."

You huff and kick him lightly in the stomach, swinging your legs off the counter. "I wouldn't be a walking zombie if you didn't get me sick in the first place, Sung."

"It wasn't my fault-"

"Yes it was," you croak, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You kept me here all night cuddling without telling me you were sick."

He pouts. "But I wanted to be with you."

"So you purposely got me sick, is what you're saying."

Jisung looks away, a tired smirk making its way onto his features. "I just wanted to spend some time with my beautiful walking zombie baby. Can you blame me?"

You throw your spoon at him. "Han Jisung."

He ducks just in time, the spoon clattering to the floor. "Okay, okay, relax. I didn't know apocalyptic monsters were so temperamental..."

"Shut up and finish your soup."

"Okay, sorry."

a/n: i want soup so bad rn

[lsunstreakerl]

i was thinking about in famiglia familia au Red Bull throwing Max a little homeschool graduation?

If Max sat UK school exams he'd get his results for the last week of F1 summer break, so maybe at the first race back there's a cake. Not too much fuss, just a little bit because they all watched him sit on planes and various lobbies/restaurants with flashcards and textbooks studying for months.

we have somehow ended up at 1.1k words again. blame max- for someone who doesn't talk, he sure has a lot of thoughts.

Max isn't sure what he's going to do with himself this season. The last few years- he's always had a textbook laying around, flash cards to work on or homework to do. He doesn't have that anymore.

It's weird to think of himself as a graduate. When he'd been karting, finishing school hadn't been an option.

GP was determined though, and he'd spent countless hours sitting at tables and hotel rooms with Max and his homework, finding him in the garage to check on him and make sure he's taking breaks.

It's paid off, and Max now has more of an education than he'd ever expected of himself- but it's not enough yet.

He wants to go further, wants to take university courses, work in the grease and oil and floor shaking bass of the garages. He always knew racing was going to be part of his life, and he might be tackling it from a different angle now than he'd expected, but- he's proud of himself.

He zips his suitcase shut. He and GP are on one of the final flights out, most of the team in Australia already.

Max is kind of dreading the weather- hot and dry, the kind of heat that makes him wear shorts and thin shirts, the heat that makes him wonder if he can get away with his own ice bath.

Disgustingly enough, it's one of GP's favorite races of the year. Max doesn't understand it.

Max hefts up his pack, waddling it down the stairs since he can't see his feet over the edge. Gianpiero is in the living room already, and their coffee table is full of all the things that he normally keeps in his work bag.

He must be taking inventory. Max sets his bag by the front door before making his way over, staring over GP's shoulder.

"Max, hey. You got all your things?"

Max nods, leaning down and tapping his finger next to the collection of foil packets on the table.

'You do not need to carry those around anymore'

Gianpiero frowns, defensively cupping them under his palm.

"Yes I do- what if you need them?"

Max gives him a flatly unimpressed face.

'I can carry my own'

"Max,"

Gianpiero gives him a soft smile, tucking the painkillers back into their section in the bag, the same spot they've had for years.

"It's okay for me to want to take care of you."

Max shifts on his feet. He knows that- GP has been saying it for several years now- but it's still hard sometimes.

GP pats him gently on the arm.

"Even if you don't need them- it's for my own peace of mind."

Well, Max can't exactly argue with that.

------

The flight to Australia is so mind-numbingly long that Max takes a nap pretty much every time. He says he won't this time while they're boarding.

He does.

Waking up to Gianpiero shaking his shoulder isn't uncommon, and it means they're probably going to start their descent soon. Max yawns so wide he cracks his jaw, lips twitching into a grin at the way GP winces.

"I still think we should say something to your doctor about that."

Max rolls his eyes.

'Reddit says it's fine'

"Right, because we're taking Reddit's word as law now."

Max can see it on Gianpiero's face the instant he realizes what Max is about sign, already scrunching up his nose.

"No- we don't need to-"

'Not what you said when we were cooking turkey last week'

Max and GP are fairly decent at cooking now, but occasionally things get... forgotten. In the oven. While it's on.

GP makes an exaggerated frown at him.

"I thought we swore each other to silence."

'I am always sworn to silence'

Max hides his face in his hand as he shakes with silent giggles, and Gianpiero's groan at the terrible joke can probably be heard a few aisles down.

------

GP is being suspicious.

Max isn't sure what could possibly be so interesting on his phone to captivate his attention the way it is, but somehow it's Max who's guiding them from the hotel to the paddock.

At least the fans aren't crazy yet.

Max narrowly drags GP out of the way of another pole before he pokes him in the shoulder, frowning.

He throws his hands up in the universal 'what the fuck, dude' gesture, and Gianpiero winces, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he takes the lead again.

"Sorry about that Max- it was Christian."

Max lets it slide, but only this once.

------

There's a jazzy pop song playing from the garage, and it's not Nick's terrible 1990's dad rock, so it's probably Callum who has the garage speaker. Max doesn't mind- it's funny to see some of the older guys forget they're not supposed to like it. More than once he's caught Christian or Helmut bopping their heads, and GP's playlist at home would get him ridiculed at the garage for weeks if Max ever leaked it.

Weirdly, Gianpiero stays slightly behind him as Max pushes the door open, and-

"SURPRISE!"

It's multiple voices at once, and Mick is here too, and Max is confused for a moment until his eyes land on the cake on the table.

Congrats, Grad!

It's round, with navy frosting and white letters, a little fondant grad cap and diploma on the side.

Max blinks rapidly, and they really need to maintain this garage better if it's going to be so dusty-

This is for him.

He feels a hand rest gently on his shoulder, turns to see Christian and Adrian standing next to him.

"We're proud of you, Max. You've put a lot of work in- the whole garage can see it. Congratulations."

Max nods softly at Christian's words, and then Adrian is wrapping him in a side hug.

"I know it's hard, getting all your work done with the time zones and the races. I hope you know you did an incredible job anyways."

He has a point- more than once Max had woken up in a cold sweat, not because of a nightmare but because he wasn't sure if he'd missed a due date while on a flight.

There's been some very close calls. As well as many, many missed ones.

Some of the mechanics are surrounding him, and Max has a moment to realize that this is what family feels like.

He'd never thought he would be the kid getting a graduation party- never thought he'd graduate at all.

Gianpiero hugs him, squeezing gently as Max turns to hide his face in his shoulder. He's not going to cry about it. He's not.

GP leans his head down.

"I'm proud of you, Max."

He's crying about it.

[ctimenefic]

just had to write this out of my brain, I'm sorry pierresteban lorekeepers if I have fucked up the dynamic, I'll go back to my corner at once

2k of post-Brazil stuff tentatively titled something like slow lane, fast lane, parallel lines

Pierre didn’t pack a podium-worthy outfit for the triple header. Certainly not for Brazil. A party outfit, sure, in case Charles did well – that’s still fucked, a crumpled bundle rank with sweat at the bottom of one of his cases, shipped back home without him two weeks ago after Austin. He hadn’t seen this coming.

No one had seen this coming. 

He has to settle for a creased button up, undone so far the team will be able to see his heart still thudding against his ribs, hours after the last bubbles swirled away into the standing water on the track. It’ll do; he tries to smoulder into the mirror, but he can’t stop smiling. It’s just going to get soaked with sweat anyway, in whatever bar backroom they’ve secured. It was Harriet, he heard, shaking with hope from the moment the red flag came, ringing round Sao Paulo venues with broken Portuguese and her heart in her mouth.

It is strange, being alone for this clutch of minutes, to shower and shave and press cologne against his skin like anointing oil. The team had been all around him the moment he was out of the car, all the way to the hotel. Esteban next to him for hours, hip to hip. Pierre had been warm, despite the rain, the perpetual grey of track and sky.

The shirt is not so white that he’ll look filthy, later, if he’s touched. He undoes another button, just in case. Kiki said, once - if he won, and she wasn’t there. Then it was fine. She’d been joking, maybe, but he hadn’t pressed her. There are many beautiful men and women in Brazil. 

He goes down to the lobby early, already sick of the quiet. He wants the roar back, the force of it against his skin. He wants hands on his back, fingers on his neck, in his hair. Three girls from the team are huddled waiting for a taxi, by the doors, but they hover six inches away now, like without their uniforms he’s unsafe to clasp. Apart, again. 

Pierre drifts away, to the spot where the lobby leaks into a bar and - George Russell is there. As out of place as usual, squinting at his phone, folded up in an armchair that’s too low for him. It turns his knees into a ski slope. He only looks up when Pierre gets right up beside him; then he unbends upright, gets halfway to a handshake before he’s gripping Pierre’s shoulder instead. “Good racing, today,” he announces, like he hadn’t said it hours ago, dripping wet and still horribly sincere, all his natural animosities tucked away.

“Thank you,” Pierre replies, automatic. “I did not think Mercedes were slumming here though?” It is a fine hotel, but not so very nice. The lifts are slow. And Mercedes take up space. They have a sponsor deal, he thinks; some foolish video Charles had sent him last year with a string of emoji. 

Russell snorts. “No. Meeting Alex for our sad bastards dinner.”

Of course. Because for Mercedes, fourth is a disappointment. Which trophy did Russell imagine he’d be snatching today? Pierre’s? Max’s? He hopes Alex charges his meal to Russell’s card. 

“I am going out with the team,” Pierre offers. Immediately feels foolish. He meant- the point was to not invite Russell. It is fun, usually, being rude to him, watching his jaw tic. He is very English about it. 

Now, though, he seems unfazed. His eyebrows jump just a little. “I gathered.” 

His gaze drops briefly down the deep V of Pierre’s shirt. It is perhaps not an achievement with the most notorious homosexual on the grid, but still. There’s some satisfaction to it.

“Where are you- oh!”

The cooldown lap had felt a hundred years long, after an impossibly drawn-out race. Pierre had felt like he could count every drop of spray between his and Este’s cars. 

It is a little like that now, watching Russell’s eyes slide over his shoulder, the way his face changes slowly and utterly. Cheekbones lifted, so his eyes get a little smaller, the start of crows feet at the edges. The top of his face starts smiling before the rest catches up. His shoulders roll too, back and down and open. It happens in a blink, and yet it changes the whole shape of him. Like sunlight through clouds. 

Pierre doesn’t need to look round to guess what he’ll say next. “There he is,” Russell adds, regardless. “Have a good evening, Pierre.” He strides off before Pierre can find the right sniff for such an abrupt dismissal. 

He turns to wave at Alex, but he’s already turned back towards the lift, shoulders up around his ears until Russell slings an arm over them. He hears Russell teasing: “Don’t be a lazybones, Albono, you’re on the fourth floor, we can walk it.”

And then they are gone, and the girls from the team come to collect him for the car, and they are squashed up close enough that he does not have to think about it for too long. Just long enough. 

How many people look at him like sunshine? He had friends like that, once. More than one of them, once.

Tonight, he will say something gracious. Tell Esteban he raced better. That Pierre could not have caught him if he tried. (Perhaps not if he tried. Perhaps that is ungracious. Perhaps he should not remind Esteban that he is the better teammate. That he is keeping the team.) He has a whole taxi ride to find the right words, the olive branch that Esteban will not reject, or discard, or ignore.   

They will hug, and it will not be the last time. The Haas is not so bad; that will help. And ten, or twenty years from now, Pierre can walk into a room somewhere in France, some gathering of old men who raced fast cars, and someone will smile to see him. 

It is twenty minutes to Harriet’s bar. By then he can see it; where in windswept Normandy it will be. Snow on the ground and overcast. He will keep most of his hair, he decides, somewhat against the odds; he gives Esteban a little gut but fewer lines, no jowls. Silver in his stubble, but not his hair. Comfortable shoes. Bracelets on their wrists. 

The bar is good, for a last minute get. The staff on the door know his face, gesture him through. There are beautiful people in clusters, grapes on the vine, ready for picking. And on the dancefloor, Alpine, Alpine, Alpine. In the centre of it, Esteban, tall even there. 

There’s a whoop from near the edge of the throng as someone spots him - one of the pit crew, Marc. It spreads, fast, a sea of heads turning his way, a cheer Pierre thought he might not hear again. They tug him in, hands on his shoulders, back, feet already bouncing, the strange wistful sadness in his stomach already lifting as he raises his hands, shouts with joy and-

Esteban looks across to Pierre and smiles like clouds parting.

---

The carpet in the hotel stairwell has a dizzying pattern, geometric but impossible for the eye to follow. Or perhaps only impossible for someone who has been awake for 24 hours now, staring at it in the half-dark of emergency exit signs. But Pierre has to try, has to trace the thick black lines up and left and down over and over, or the choking gluk sounds Esteban is making round his cock will drive him mad. Tip him over ten seconds into the best-worst blowjob of his life. 

They had taken the stairs because it would be quicker than the ancient lifts. Not quick enough, for Esteban. Despite the risk, Pierre does not want to make up the distance. He wants this to last.  

Esteban pulls off for a moment; his smile is a slice of white in the darkness. Pierre doesn’t mean for his hand to drop to his face, thumb along his bottom lip, down his chin, but it does so anyway. He catches Esteban’s spit on his thumbpad; sucks it into his own mouth. There’s salt to it. 

“You are very wet for me,” Esteban murmurs, matter-of-fact, and Pierre gives up on the carpet, shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back into the corner with a thunk. He has been wet all day, drenched in rain and champagne and sweat. What is one more? He can feel it, the way precome rolls down the underside of his dick to Esteban’s fingers, until Este’s tongue drags back over him, a long side up the inches he cannot fit in his hand. 

(“It’s bigger,” he’d said, and Pierre had failed to hide his smirk. He hadn’t made it up, tripod. And Esteban’s hands are bigger now, too.)

His shirt is undone, bunched at his elbows where hands - some familiar, some strange - had dragged it down to trace the shape of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his arm muscles. He’d tugged it back up in the car back, but not enough to stick, not with Este’s long fingers at his neck. It makes him feel on display now, naked from his thighs up, Esteban’s dark head the only modesty he’s been afforded. 

He’s cold where Esteban had slicked down his happy trail with his tongue. It makes him shiver when Este gets back to bobbing back and forth, and his hair whispers over Pierre’s stomach. He has been touching him all night, never a hand off him, and yet Pierre is still so sensitive to each new collision. He can feel Este grin, smug, around him, like he’s noticed. It doesn’t rankle like it should. 

Esteban divebombs down Pierre’s dick again, and he comes before he can get out a warning, choking on thick air, hot and tight in his lungs. Este surfaces seconds later, cracks Pierre’s mouth open with a finger and thumb on his jaw, and feeds him his come in long, loving licks around his teeth. He’s still got his other hand wrapped around Pierre’s softening dick. As Pierre blinks up at him, stupefied, those clever fingers slide to cup his balls instead. A single digit taps at his taint. 

“Dry here,” Esteban muses. Pierre’s mouth falls open, panting. He thinks his come must still be gleaming on his tongue. He can still taste it. “We can fix that.”

And then there is light, crashing through the dark, as the door to the stairwell on the floor above opens, and the perpetual glow of the corridor shines through. Pierre clutches Este to him like cover. The bastard still has all his clothes on, at least, even if Pierre’s bare thighs are obvious either side of his too-skinny frame. 

The shaft of light falls a little to their left, not quite a spotlight. Perhaps they will not be noticed. Perhaps there is still enough luck for one more miracle. 

Soft steps, on the stairs. And then-

“Fuck,” someone hisses from above them. 

Not someone. Familiar. Far too English. 

Someone who should not be in the stairwell of the Williams team hotel at 4am. But. Pierre is in no position to throw stones. His stones are still in Esteban’s large, warm hand. 

Esteban is being no help. He snickers into Pierre’s neck for a moment, so lightly his lips barely leave his skin. Then: “Take the lift, George,” he calls, apparently deciding plausible deniability is for other motherfuckers. 

His voice is a little rough. Well-used. 

Russell, at least, understands how to play the game. It is silent, except for the hurried steps up and away. The whine of the door. 

“Shit,” Pierre groans. Esteban’s finger presses again at the space between his arse and his balls. “Shit,” Pierre says again. It echoes differently. Higher. 

Esteban is snickering again. “Always so dramatic,” he chides. But his hands are gentle as he pulls Pierre’s slacks back up his legs; does up precisely one button on his shirt and slides his palms down the sides like that will make him presentable for the CCTV in the corridor. “Come on, two floors more to mine. I shall have to fuck you in the morning, you are too spooked now.” 

Pierre doesn’t like the needy sound he makes; Esteban’s eyes gleam. He won’t beg for it, but: “When is your flight?” Pierre’s is late, commercial. They book different flights, more often than not. Esteban’s gaze wavers for a second. But only down to Pierre’s mouth, his navel, and back up. 

“The same. It is the same. I asked- said to change it. After. At the track.” Este must bite his lip – his bottom teeth disappear for a moment. Pierre wants the light back, wants to see his face. “We were-” he says the rest with his hands, palm to palm, parallel – two cars moving in sync around a curve. “And in the cooldown. You smiled at me.”

“I smiled?”

Este huffs. It is just enough like his cruel silences to make Pierre feel alert again, hands twitching to grasp a wheel he cannot see.  “I cannot change it back. It will be sorted by now.” 

There is an inch between them that has not been there all night. Esteban’s weight shifts, like he means to step back further. Pierre has to lunge for him, cram their mouths together. They had not done this at the bar. Touching, yes, everywhere they could get away with, but this was different. Private. 

Este whines a little into the kiss. His fingers get grabby again.

“Fuck me now, and later,” Pierre demands against his mouth. Esteban nods; in the dark his lips leave a smear against Pierre’s temple. 

His echo sounds like a promise. “Now and later.” 

[overtake]

old playing cards!!

I managed a fic under 1k. Please clap.

DECEMBER 2022

Daniel’s fingers tap on the glass table and leave smudges from the sweat and oils coating them. He pulls the sleeve of his shirt over his hand and tries to wipe away the evidence, but he only succeeds at blurring the fingerprints into a hazy circle.

He curls his fingers into the meat of his palm instead, hidden safely inside the too-long cotton cocoon, and stares blankly down. Through the glass, he can see his knee bouncing up and down, just centimetres from banging into the table and bruising his skin.

He startles when a bowl lands in front of him. It’s that eco-friendly cardboard stuff they’ve switched to in the factory cafe, and it’s stuffed to the brim with some kind of chicken and rice dish. Just the smell of it makes Daniel’s stomach churn, and he pushes it to the edge of the table. He ignores Simon’s admonishing glare and crosses his arms across his ribcage.

“Well?” he asks. He knows the sim session didn’t go well. He could hear it in Simon’s constant feedback. He could feel it in his corner hesitation, slamming the brakes like he could fuck the sim into an actual wall and subsequently bracing for impact.

Simon doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls something from his pocket and passes it across the table to Daniel.

It takes Daniel a second to register what he’s looking at, and it draws a laugh out of him for the first time that day.

“You still have these?” Daniel asks. He picks up the old deck of cards and pulls them from their package.

It’d been a tradition every race weekend since he’d become Daniel’s engineer for the two of them to play a round of war before every session. Daniel refused to call it a superstition, but it was their thing.

He’d bought this particular deck for Simon as a farewell gift in 2018, a joke packaged in amongst the real gift of the expensive watch that still decorates Simon’s wrist to date. Simon had become temporarily obsessed with the Real Housewives franchise, a secret he told Daniel to take to the grave, and Daniel had custom-made him a deck of cards with the housewives’ faces on it.

The pack has clearly only been opened once, the day he received it, and Daniel delights in shuffling them for the first time. The fresh edges are stiff against his hands.

Simon doesn’t speak until the cards have been dealt.

“When are you headed back to Perth?” he asks conversationally. He’s never been one to speak around the matter at hand. Daniel must have really stunk up the sim, then.

“Tomorrow.”

They each flip their first card. Simon’s eight takes it to Daniel’s three.

“And Max?”

Daniel turns over a queen, but Simon shows a king.

“After the holiday party. Are you really that invested in our winter break plans?”

Simon shrugs, unbothered by the bite in Daniel’s words. “Yes. I think you should spend time with your family, eat lots of Christmas ham, and stop thinking about the sim.”

Daniel finally takes a round.

“Is that your way of saying today was so bad, we can never speak of it again?”

Daniel flips over an ace. Simon rolls his eyes and slaps down an ace with Lisa Vanderpump’s smiling face, and they begin doling out cards for war. “We’ll talk about the data in a bit. I just want to remind you to take it easy, alright? Trust yourself. We both know your talent didn’t disappear. You just have to let yourself breathe a little.”

Daniel bites down on his lip, hoping the sharp edge of his tooth in skin will stop the burn in his eyes. “You almost sound like you care about me,” Daniel teases.

Simon shakes his head, but Daniel can see the bemused glint in his eyes.

“Get fucked,” Simon says solemnly when he wins the war and sweeps the pile into his deck.

They play the rest of the game in peaceful silence.

MARCH 2025

“Ready?” Max asks. His race suit is only half-zipped, allowing Daniel to lewdly admire the way his white fireproofs hug the frame of his body. Max sees Daniel mentally objectifying him and sticks out his chest a little.

“Almost,” Daniel promises. Simon’s only got about two cards left in his pile. He refuses to bring the Real Housewives deck, so they’re using a boring one for now, but Daniel plans on finding a themed deck for every other city this season.

Max collapses into the chair next to Daniel and spins himself in lazy half-circles until Daniel takes Simon’s final card and wins the game.

“Let’s go,” Daniel crows, doing a little fist pump.

“I let you win,” Simon lies, like it’s not a game of chance. Daniel boos him, and Max joins in.

“I didn’t miss you two being teammates,” Simon says, waving his hand between the two of them, which only increases their boos. Simon cracks his neck and stands up from the table. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel says, collecting the cards neatly back into the little box. Max offers him a hand up and lets his fingers linger on Daniel’s skin for a second too long, gently tracing over the four card suits tattooed over the puckered scar on his left hand. “Let’s do this thing.”

[simmingsamantha]

LIKE NIGHT AND DAY: A TS3 LEGACY CHALLENGE

Hello y’all! I am back with a different sort of legacy challenge compared to my usual nostalgic-ish challenges. This legacy is eight generations, each based upon a specific time of day, from midnight to nighttime. I tried to add both good and bad traits to the sims for some unique and interesting gameplay. I’ve also added sims badges that are entirely optional to complete for each gen (I just like collecting badges myself lol). Each generation has a unique color palette that you can follow if you want. The google doc even has images of the palettes for visualization. I highly recommend checking out the google doc for better formatting on desktop, too. You'll need most EPs (except maybe Into the Future). Store content is referenced, but none of it is necessary. If you have any questions or comments, don’t hesitate to reach out. Hope y’all enjoy this challenge! 

Tag: #lnad3 or @simmingsamantha on tumblr 

Click for the google doc: xxx

Generation 1: MIDNIGHT - BURNING THAT MIDNIGHT OIL

Midnight marks the beginning and ending of each day. It is the transition time from one day to the next. It is a symbol of new beginnings, potential, self-reflection, secrets, the unknown and transformation. 

Traits: Commitment Issues. Dramatic/Diva, Natural Born Performer, Neurotic, Star Quality Career: Acrobat/Magician/Singer  Lifetime Wish: Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous  Lifetime Rewards: Engaging, The Hustler, Watering Hole Regular Aesthetic Colors: Black, White and Gold 

Goals:

Max the mixology and dancing/club dancing skills.

Additionally, max two of the following hidden skills: dominoes, pool, dartboard or shuffleboard.

Win a Simfest 

Never go to bed at a decent time/have an atrocious sleep schedule  

Become publicly disgraced 

Either sue for slander, pay off the paparazzi or deflect scandal onto other celebrities 

Live in a penthouse or luxury apartment once you begin to make money and gain fame 

Live in a city-esque world

Hire a butler 

Rely on your butler to take care of your children's needs

If you have the playpen and walker, use those to teach your child to walk and talk.

Befriend a vampire 

Marry a celebrity that is a higher level than you 

Collect the Lounge Lizard/Cranstan Boonitz and Blingaboo gnomes 

Earn $20000 in tips from your chosen Showtime career (sim badge) 

Perform in each venue type at least once 

Have one biological child and adopt another child

Generation 2: THE WITCHING HOUR - THE WITCHING HOUR IS AT HAND

The witching hour is a time of night associated with supernatural events as well as the appearance and amplification of power of witches, ghosts and demons. Tends to include the time between 3AM and 4AM. 

Traits: Brooding, Heavy Sleeper, Loner, Mean-Spirited, Supernatural Fan Career: Fortune Teller or Ghost Hunter  Lifetime Wish: Zombie Master Lifetime Rewards: Alpha Wolf/Immortal/Magic Hands Aesthetic Colors: Purple, Black and Grey

Goals:

Max the logic and alchemy skills 

Become a “creature of the night”: a witch, werewolf or vampire

If a witch, max your spellcasting/magic skill and duel at least 5 other witches 

If a werewolf, max your lycanthropy skill and form a pack of at least two other sims on the full moon

If a vampire, turn at least three other sims and make ten sims “think of you”

As a teen, join the mausoleum clerk part-time job or join the debate team after-school activity 

Own a black cat

Go all out for Spooky Day 

Collect all five colors of Gnomes of the Darned 

Bind the Malleable Mimic Voodoo Doll to another sim 

Learn all spells from Lady Ravendancer Goth's Book o' Spells (regardless of occult type) 

Learn all potions from Lord Vlaimir’s Magic Cauldron 

Complete the Celestial Explorer logic skill challenge 

Discover 25 stars for the Master Astronomer sim badge 

Marry another supernatural, preferably another “creature of the night” 

Buy a Bonehilda coffin 

Befriend the Grim Reaper 

Buy the Philosopher’s Stone and Flying Vacuum lifetime rewards 

Have twins (one of which is the heir). Roll a d4 die to determine how many other kids you’ll have.

Generation 3: DAWN - AT THE CRACK OF DAWN

Dawn marks the beginning of twilight before sunrise as indirect sunlight is scattered throughout Earth’s atmosphere. Dawn is associated with illumination, hope and happiness. 

Traits: Angler, Eco-Friendly, Hopeless Romantic, Loves the Outdoors, Technophobe Career: Angler or Gardener (Self-Employed) Lifetime Wish: Bottomless Nectar Cellar  Lifetime Rewards: Super Green Thumb  Aesthetic Colors: Light Pink, Light Orange, Light Blue

Goals:

Be a twin; live with your twin for your entire life (Dusk).  

Dusk is your polar opposite. For most of your life, you two hate each other. Reconcile only as elders. 

Max the nectar making, fishing, and gardening skills

Harvest 100 Perfect harvestables (sim badge) 

Live on a farm 

Have chickens and cows if you have the store content 

Own a Cowplant - be sure to feed it! 

Complete the Uncommonly Good, Outstandingly Rare and Omnificent Plant opportunities 

Grow a money tree and life fruit 

Own and use Grandma’s canning station

Join the Scouting after-school activity as a child and teen 

As a teen or young adult, visit Champs Les Sims (where you discover your love for nectar making) 

Complete the Flavorful Feet and Master of Nectar Making skill challenges 

Complete the Ameatuer Ichthyologist fishing skill challenge

Have a big family (at least four kids)

Marry your first romantic interest in your young adult lifestage

Generation 4: MORNING - GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE

Morning is the period from sunrise until noon, and is associated with breakfast, the start of a new day, and fresh starts. 

Traits: Ambitious, Disciplined, Friendly, Good, Proper  Career: Business or Military  Lifetime Wish: Martial Arts Master or Physical Perfection  Lifetime Rewards: Meditative Trance Sleep, Extra Creative Aesthetic Colors: Beige, Light Yellow, and Peach  

Goals:

Max the photography, athletic and martial arts skills

Complete three photography collections

Reach martial arts tournament level 3 regardless of lifetime wish chosen 

Try to jog or bike everywhere 

For an extra challenge/sim badge, jog 2000 kilometres or perform 200 hours of cardio workouts 

Only eat breakfast-type foods 

Own a pet bird 

Get cheated on after getting married to a co-worker

Join the spa receptionist or spa specialist part-time job as a teen

Have a massage table and wind chimes on your lot 

Collect all butterflies (excluding the ones you need to travel for) 

Generation 5: NOON - THE MOMENT OF TRUTH HAS ARRIVED, IT’S HIGH NOON

Noon is the time when the Sun reaches its apparent highest point in the sky. Noon is a time of productivity, of nourishment and of clarity and enlightenment. 

Traits: Charismatic, Hot-Headed, Loves the Heat, Natural Cook, Workaholic  Career: Culinary  Lifetime Wish: Blog Artist   Lifetime Rewards: Fireproof Homestead, Born to Cook  Aesthetic Colors: Shades of Yellow 

Goals:

Max the cooking, artisan and social networking skills

Have a pet lizard 

Join the Drama after-school activity as a teen 

Have at least three best friends

Meet with your friend/s at least once a week 

Complete the Blog Baron social networking skill challenge 

Complete the Star Chef cooking skill challenge 

Use the SimFinder App to find your partner 

Get into a fight with another Sim once a season 

Have a distant relationship with your child/ren due to your workaholic and hot-headed tendencies. 

Prepare 200 perfect meals OR Prepare 3 Perfect meals of the following: Grilled Cheese, Hamburger, Stuffed Turkey, Goopy Carbonara, Tri-Tip Steak, and Stu Surprise for an extra challenge (and sim badge) 

Make angel food cake and experience the “warm fuzzies” moodlet 

Generation 6: AFTERNOON - DOG DAY AFTERNOON

Afternoon is the time between noon and sunset. It is associated with a dip in human cognitive and productive functioning, leisure activities, and the end of the workday.

Traits: Absent-Minded, Slob, Nurturing, Mooch, Unlucky   Career: Education Lifetime Wish: Master of the Arts  Lifetime Rewards: Professional Slacker, Vacationer  Aesthetic Colors: Turquoise, Pale Yellow and Dark Yellow 

Goals:

Max the painting and guitar skills  

No skill challenges this gen unless you want to 

Adopt a dog

Have your dog max the hunting skill but do not train them yourself 

Join the Art after school activity as a teen 

Never clean up after yourself - hire a maid if it gets real bad 

Limit your physical activity (it’s too hot for that) 

Celebrate Leisure Day 

Live in a sunny climate world 

Own and use the store tea set 

Get suntanned at least once 

Host a “game night” (play games like dominoes or gnubb, stuff like that) every week with your family 

Enjoy a picnic and/or beach day with the family occasionally 

Have as many kids as you want. Teach them to walk and talk using the walker and the playpen. Only actively teach them to potty. 

Generation 7: EVENING - THE EVENING OF LIFE 

Evening is the period of a day that begins at the end of daylight and overlaps with the beginning of night, indicating the time where the sun is close to the horizon. It is the quiet, winding-down, ending part of a day. 

Traits: Couch Potato, Night Owl, Bookworm, Virtuoso, Shy Career: Journalism  Lifetime Wish: Professional Author  Lifetime Rewards: Acclaimed Author, Observant Aesthetic Colors: Dark Orange, Darker Purples and Magnetas 

Goals:

Max the violin, piano and writing skills 

Join the Newspaper after school activity as a teen

Have only one friend during childhood, and end up marrying them 

Grow old with your partner 

Complete the Speed or Prolific Writer writing skill challenges 

Complete the Librophile sim badge (read 60 unique books) 

Complete the Master of the Literary Arts badge (write 2 Sci-fi, Drama, Humor, Mystery, Romance and Vaudeville novels in that order) 

For an extra challenge, write 80 total novels (sim badge)

Be more of a homebody sim

However, you should go out on the town once a week with your partner to see a movie or something like that. Something chill. 

Complete the Master Pianist skill challenge 

Watch at least one Symphony

Stay up late writing your novels and articles for work more often than not  

Generation 8: NIGHT - THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT 

Night is the period of darkness when the Sun is below the horizon. Historically, night has been a time of increased danger and insecurity. Artificial lighting increased the range of socially acceptable leisure activities during the nighttime and introduced nightlife as a significant part of urban culture. 

Traits: Rebellious, Evil, Kleptomaniac, Party Animal, Genius  Career: Medical then Criminal  Lifetime Wish: Possession is Nine Tenths of the Law  Lifetime Rewards: Legendary Host, Inappropriate but in a Good Way   Aesthetic Colors: Dark and Navy Blues 

Goals:

Max the street art, science and drum skills 

Own a pet rodent (even better if they’re a rat) 

As a teen, prank the school and as many plumbing appliances as you can find 

Barely graduate high school; never do your homework 

If the opportunity presents itself, throw a teen party while the parent/s are away 

Get kicked out of your household due to your teenage antics 

Go to University for a degree (preferably the Science and Medicine major, as that’s your first career). 

Support yourself in college by playing for tips on the drums and Day Jobs

Spend most of your time in Uni juiced and partying but manage to get at least a C 

Complete 10 Day Job or Dare opportunities (sim badge) 

Try every herb and coffee bean at least once (sim badge)

Get to at least level 5 of Nerd and Rebel influence 

Join the Medical career after college for the money but get fired for missing too much work 

Join the Criminal career (either branch) after you get fired

Steal every time you leave your home lot 

Throw parties for every holiday 

Complete the Always Wanted street art skill challenge 

Befriend a raccoon 

Have kids or don’t: it’s the end of the legacy! Will you let the legacy be tarnished by the Night sim or will they turn their life around? It’s up to you! 

[postpunkslatestposterboy]

Are you ready Doctor Dankovsky?

Messing about with the max packs oil paint brush set, done over 3 hours on a train.

This is the same technique I used for that Maria portrait but with MUCH nicer brushes, probably gonna do more like this.

Ref

[pedrostylez]

Next Time

pairing: Joel Miller neighbor!au x fem!reader

summary: No outbreak, not canon in the slightest, Joel Miller as your neighbor growing up. You've returned home from grad school for winter break after your long-term boyfriend broke up with you

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 4.9k

warnings etc: No outbreak Joel, no Sarah, age gap (9 years) mentioned and defined, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), food consumed, semi-public? Chance of getting caught?

A/N: This is the prologue to "Don't" with not all of the background mentioned. I think this will end up being a 3 part? Idk, maybe 4 max. Anywho, be gentle with me.

It had been easy to find comfort in Joel. 

The rush of wind around your face made you shiver, once hot tears streaming down your face drying quickly and leaving behind a sting of cold. You huffed out a breath, running your wrist against your face to try and remove the wetness as more sprung from your eyes. It was pitiful how you were crying over this, but you had spent two years with him. 

Jason had met your family, your friends, your goddamn neighbor that you’ve had a crush on since he moved in, and he just…broke up with you. Let you help him pack up his car for winter break, let you get on your knees and give him a blow job, and then tell you that he wanted to take a break. That you were too much. 

You were too much, as far as you were concerned. Too clingy, too needy, too much of just about everything that Jason hated–

r u home 4 winter break? Or is ur car needing work?

Joel. 

You hadn’t even realized you pulled your phone out of your pocket on your trek to the hiking trail you used to sit at with your friends. Memories of asking Joel to pick you up and drop you off at the head of the trail so that your parents didn’t know you had snuck out flashed through your mind as you typed your response. 

At hiking trail rn

It wasn’t really an answer to his question, but it was all you were willing to give. You sat on a rock just barely out of the view of the gravel lot, wiping at your eyes again and sighing. You could sit here for a bit longer before having to explain to your mom why you were back in town. 

Joel frowned at the text you sent him, glancing up at your car again. He had just arrived home from a long day of work and felt something warm in his stomach at the site of your beat-up vehicle sitting in the driveway. The last time he spoke to you was over 6 months ago, when you and your boyfriend were visiting your mom, and Joel had helped change your oil. 

He always seemed to help you with your car, and he was positive he was the reason it was still running. From his first introduction to you at 17 years old, crying while your car smoked in your driveway, he had always been your go-to neighbor.

If you were at the hiking trail that was only a mile away from the neighborhood, you were upset. He had watched you enough times running from your back door while your dad yelled after you to know where you would go. 

He debated asking if you wanted to be alone but decided to hop back in his truck and head in that direction. He could walk himself, but the look of the sky told him you were going to be rained down on any minute and thought better of it. 

You heard the engine of Joel’s truck within five minutes and scoffed out loud. Of course he was here. You turned your head to watch the trail, listening to his boots hit the gravel, his sigh as he began walking right toward you. He couldn’t see you, but he knew well enough where you were. 

When Joel comes into eyesight you have to hold your breath, trying to not show how surprised you are by how he looks. How long has it been since you last saw him? The broadness of his chest, the way his shirt tightened around his arms as he crossed them–

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’.” He drawls, smirking at you. Does he have to do that? “It looks like it is going to rain. Figured you didn’t want to walk home in that.”

You snort out a laugh, glancing up to the sky while you unknowingly give Joel access to look at your neck and chest for longer than he normally would. “You’re right.” You look back over at him, his ears are red with what you think is annoyance, and try to act nonchalant. “How’s it going?”

He shrugs at you, moving his hands to his pockets before looking around and leaning against a nearby tree. “It’s about how it’s always been, sweetheart. You staying for the whole winter break or just visiting for the day?” 

You and Joel had always been straightforward with each other. It was easiest that way, with how passive your mom was and how aggressive your dad was. You knew that the first time Joel moved in and saw you panicking in your driveway over your car that he was going to always tell you like it was-no bullshit. It had developed into more of a one-sided pining, asking Joel for his number to help you with your car or to ask him for a ride if you needed it. But he had always agreed, helping you when he could and being a person for you to rely on. 

You take a deep breath to gather the courage to tell him. “I’m probably going to stay for the whole break. Don’t want to stay in the apartment all winter long.” 

“Why’s that?”

You pause, looking up at him and biting the inside of your lip to not cry. You didn’t see Joel’s eyes soften at the first hint of just how upset you were. “Jason….broke up with me.” 

He grunts, taking a step toward your place on the rock and crouching down in front of you. Your eyes widen in shock; he’s never been this close to you willingly. Under your car holding a light for him or next to him in his truck is just not the same. His hands reach forward, resting on your knees and giving you a squeeze before saying “Never liked him anyways darlin’. You’re too good for him.”

You feel your eyes well up with tears and try to blink them away, surprised again when Joel reaches forward and wipes at your cheek. What you were warring with bubbled over and out of your mouth before you could think about it. “It feels like I wasted two years of my life, Joel.”

He sighed, holding your face in his hands and you tilted into him subconsciously. He doesn’t know what else to say, or what to tell you, so he offers “Let’s go to the diner? I’ll get you French toast like how you used to get it.”

You smile softly, holding back a giggle as blood rushes to your cheeks. “Sure. I could go for that.”

Joel is watching you from the corner of his eye in his truck, and how on edge you truly are. You are hiding it well, but he knows you. Knows that you are still upset, still feeling like you wasted your life on Jason. He could murder that kid right now. 

The whole ride is quiet, the sound of rain splattering his windshield starts soon after he leaves the hiking trail, your soft puffs of breath fogging the window that you’re looking out of. He pulls into the diner, parking in the back of the lot, and turns to you before you can get out and grab your knee. He doesn’t know why he can’t keep his hands off you. 

“You didn’t waste your life, sweetheart.” He starts, wincing internally at how he can’t seem to hold back the pet names. “He’s just…he’s a boy–”

“We are both 25, Joel. I know that’s young but plenty of people get married before then–” You start to get riled up, face flushing red and tears brimming your eyes before you cover your face. You take a deep breath before speaking again. “Two years of my life I thought I was going to marry him and then he fucking tells me that I’m too much work! And that I’m too clingy!” 

“You’re not those things.” Joel grounds out, trying to keep from letting his anger show. The idea that someone who you loved would say those things to you made his blood boil. “Jason is a boy. He doesn't know what he really wants besides someone to do his laundry and cook his food.”

You lean back against the passenger seat and sigh, shaking your head and leaning against the window. You had been cooking meals for Jason, had done his laundry plenty of times, and thought nothing of it. You felt weak, ready to cry at any moment, and it made you feel pitiful. 

“Don’t let him affect you like that.” Joel pushes, frowning at you and squeezing your leg. When you look at him, his eyes soften with a tilt of his head. “The right guy will come along who doesn’t want to marry his mother. I know you took care of him more than you should have.”

Joel feels the heat from your leg seep through your jeans and into his hand, making his heart jump before he pulls his hand away. “Let’s go eat. I’ll take care of you today.”

Swooning wasn’t a sufficient word. 

I’ll take care of you today. 

Did Joel even know what he was saying to you? Did he understand that later you would lay in your bed and think of him while you slid your fingers through your folds? You’re doing your best to not look completely flustered, stumbling out of his vehicle and loping beside him to the front door of the diner. Your breath hitched in your throat when Joel guided you inside with his hand wrapping around your waist for an instant, forcing you to walk faster to keep up and stay out of the rain. 

You’re still thinking about what he said as the waitress brings two plates of French toast to your table, piled high with butter and maple syrup flowing over the sides and onto the table in tiny drops. Joel’s smile to you makes your heart skip, shoveling a piece of the breakfast food into your mouth to cover it up. 

Joel’s eyes stay glued to you, slurping on a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You take another bite of your French toast, cinnamon sugar swirled into the bread, sighing heavily when the melted butter hits your tongue. The warmth of the bread, and the sweetness of the maple syrup, give you enough confidence to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t like Jason?”

Joel pauses his sipping, raising his eyebrows at you. He gives you a quick shrug before glancing at the table behind you. “Not my place.” He says quietly, looking down at his food and dragging a piece of his food through a sea of syrup. “You liked him, I wasn’t going to tell you otherwise.” 

You huff at that, giving him a look that tells him you want him to explain more. When he doesn’t, you set your fork down and cross your arms on the table. “I would have appreciated someone saying something.”

Joel grunts, not fully convinced as he takes the last bite of his French toast. “No, you wouldn’t have darlin’. I’m just your neighbor, and me pulling you aside to say that Jason wasn’t the one would have been a quick way to get my nose broken.” He laughs, looking up at you. 

You’re quiet, letting his laugh die out before mumbling. “You’re not…just my neighbor Joel.” His eyes widen briefly, your food forgotten as you stare at him. Debating on how to tell him you relied on him more than anyone, how he was a sanctuary in all your issues at home even though Joel knew very few details, you sigh out, “You’ve helped me in more ways than one and…you live next door but you’re more like–”

“Don’t say a brother,” Joel mumbles, raising his eyebrows at you jokingly. Deep in the back of his mind, he’s hoping that he hasn’t come across that way.  

“I wasn’t! You’re not.” You pause, laughing full-bellied. The idea is so ridiculous that you blurt out, “I wouldn’t have a crush on someone that I see like a brother–”

It feels like the world stops turning when you realize what has just left your mouth, looking up to Joel’s coughing, coffee sputtering out back into his cup. Your eyes widen in panic, watching him set his cup back down and red rush back to the tips of his ears. You would almost think he looks excited beyond the surprise, but you can’t dwell on it. 

It’s only a split second before you make the decision to book it out of the diner. You trip over your feet, pushing into the glass door and into the rain as you vaguely hear Joel calling your name. You don’t bother to turn back, regretting even saying anything at all. You should have just let Joel say he was only your neighbor and leave it at that. 

Tears are running down your face again, down the sidewalk and through someone's side yard to the trail that you know is there. You feel stupid and pitiful again, admitting to having a crush on your neighbor who is 9 years older than you while also having him console you over a long-term breakup. 

You quickly make the decision to cut through the hiking trail, back to the gravel lot where Joel had first picked you up, and then back to your house. Maybe you could even make it to your car before Joel realized where you went and you can drive back to campus because this is more embarrassing than coming home and crying about Jason.

Joel doesn’t know what to do watching you almost smack your face against the door handle as you rush out of the diner. He tries to call you back, feeling embarrassed for making you uncomfortable. He didn’t mean to start choking on his coffee when he heard you admit that you had a crush on him. Currently, have a crush on him? He wasn’t sure. Something in his gut wanted to find out desperately. 

He pulled his wallet out roughly to pay the bill, getting out of the booth and opening the door at the same time he sees you cut through someone's yard. “Shit!” He says out loud, striding quickly over to his truck and hopping in the driver’s seat. He had to beat you home, or at least stop you from whatever it was that you were going to do. 

Joel is tapping on his wheel as he drives up the road to the hiking trail when he sees you, drenched and running on the sidewalk heading in the opposite direction. You most certainly see him, eyes widening and freezing in place as if a scared animal and don’t know where to go. Joel pulls over, rolling his window down and leaning closer to the opening. “Why did you run off?” He says sharply, eyebrows furrowed together. 

He doesn’t mean to come off harsh but knows he has when you respond with. “I freaked out. I’m sorry-”

“Would you get in the truck?” He amends, reaching for the handle and opening it towards you as an invitation. He waits for you to make a decision, watching you closely to see if you will bolt again. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” He concedes, watching you take a deep breath before begrudgingly sliding into the vehicle and slamming the door shut behind you.  While you try to get ahold of yourself, wiping at your cheeks and flicking your hair behind your shoulder, Joel waits patiently. He can’t help but reach over and place his hand on your leg again, even when you tense up. “It’s alright.” 

You huff again, pulling your hand back into your lap. “I’m sorry.” You say quietly, glancing at his hand on your leg and shut your eyes tightly. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I just meant that I used to have a crush on you. Like when I was 17, or something.”

Joel holds back his sigh, knowing that any type of response might set you off to run again. He hides the fact that his chest deflates at the idea that it was a teenage crush, rather than a current one. He reels himself in at the thought that he is actually disappointed, beating himself up mentally that he shouldn’t have hoped you still liked him-he’s convinced that he is too old for you. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He mumbles, looking over at you. “You just surprised me. No harm.”

You nod quickly, looking down at your hands and at his on your knee. He gives you another squeeze to bring your attention back up to him. “For what it’s worth,” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before saying, “You’re beautiful, and I would be lucky for you to have a crush on me.” 

You stare at him in shock, waiting for him to take it back.

When he doesn’t, you find yourself leaning towards him and pressing your lips to his cheek lightly, testing the waters. You pull back just enough to watch his reaction, before leaning in again and moving your lips to his. 

He’s frozen for only an instant more before his fingers curl into the back of your hair, wet from the rain, and pulling your face towards his. You can’t believe this is happening, wondering if maybe you actually fell and hit your head on your way out of the diner, and this is just some coma-induced dream. 

It feels more real when Joel’s hand trails down from the back of your head to your neck, giving you a light squeeze and then pulling himself away from you. He’s breathing heavily, slowly removing his hands from you before pressing them to the steering wheel and blinking rapidly. 

He knows he shouldn’t have reciprocated. He knows he shouldn’t have said anything. He wonders if he should have just let you run home like you had planned. 

You’re wondering if he’s regretting what just happened between you as he puts the truck in gear and turns it around in the gravel lot just ahead, driving back to your neighborhood. Anxiety roils in your stomach as he pulls up to your house and puts the truck in park, not even looking at you as he waits for you to exit. 

You do just that, wondering how much more you will cry tonight when you slam the door behind you.

The next day, after you walked into your house and were bombarded by questions from your mom and dad, you’re debating even getting up. The bed is too small, but the blankets are warm and your pillow is comfortable, and the idea of having to explain in more detail before your parents go to work gives you the worst feeling. 

You glance out your window where the curtain has shifted, and notice that Joel’s truck is still in the driveway. You wonder vaguely if he has the day off from his job in construction when you hear a knock on your door. 

Your mom only knocks to give you a warning that she is coming in, your door yawning open as you huff out a small “What?”

“Just letting you know I’m heading to work and your dad is soon as well.” She says quietly, tapping her fingers against the door knob. “Do you have plans today?”

You roll your eyes before turning over to face her. “Wallow in self-pity and cry some more.” You say sarcastically, watching her shake her head at you in mild disgust. 

“Do the dishes, won’t you?” She says back, walking into the room to give you a kiss on the head before walking out and leaving the door open. 

You sigh heavily and wait another 30 minutes, listening to your dad groan to himself before leaving and locking the door behind him. You wonder vaguely if you have a spare key still hidden under the back step, and if you’ll be able to leave the house today. Maybe you could actually go on a hike. 

Motivation takes over you as you stand, stretching for a minute before finding clothes you would be comfortable in for the day. A simple walk may be all you need to move past Jason breaking your heart today. You don’t know what will push your shared kiss with Joel out of your brain. 

Joel is drinking the last bits of his coffee when he sees you step out your back door and check under a potted plant, nodding to yourself and walking away without so much as a glance toward his house. He had planned on not reaching out to you-let you figure out what you wanted and then pretend that nothing occurred if that was what you wanted. It was only the next day, after all. 

In a split second after watching you head towards that damn hiking trail, Joel rinses his cup and steps out into the yard. You’re too far away to have noticed he has appeared, but he wonders if he should go after you, or if he should take his truck with him. Does he have an excuse to bring the truck? He glances up at the sky briefly, already knowing that it wasn’t supposed to rain again for another couple of days. Trailing behind you without saying anything is just creepy, and he doesn’t want to be that person–

His legs carry him at a brisk pace, boots thumping on the ground and his jeans riding lower with every step. When he calls your name he internally cringes at how you lift your shoulders and freeze, turning just your head around to look at him. “Hold on just a second.” He calls, jogging up to where you have paused. 

You give him this look that makes him want to laugh, but he understands. You look frightened of your own embarrassment, trying to mask it with indifference. When he stops next to you and takes a deep breath, he doesn’t really know what his plan is. “You going on a walk?”

You nod, swallowing and shuffling in place for a moment. “Was going to attempt to actually hike instead of just sit there.”

He hums, taking a step in the direction you were going. “I’m off today, mind if I join you?”

He knows you’re pretending to not care just as much as he is, but you smile at him and agree, walking alongside him up to the head of the trail.

You’re about two minutes into this hike, and both you and Joel are out of breath. You haven’t spoken more than when he first caught up with you, and you don’t think you want him to. Pausing to catch your breath doesn’t seem like an option if you really don’t want to talk, so you continue on the path, going up higher on this hill.

Glancing over at Joel makes your face turn red, realizing he is in his boots and jeans that he keeps tugging up, and a dark blue shirt that will likely be covered in sweat if you continue at this pace. He could turn back if he didn’t want to do this walk with you, but you know that he didn’t come to actually walk. He wants to say something, and if you just don’t let him get the chance–

“Can you just, hold on for a second.” Joel puffs out, stopping and placing his hands on his hips. He’s trying to catch his breath, holding his mouth slightly open and furrowing his brow at you. “When the hell did you start walking so fast?”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you at the ridiculous question. You are walking fast, but the point was to not talk. You aren’t going to admit that to him. “Just moving with a purpose.”

Joel sighs, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Can we talk?”

You immediately start shaking your head, taking another step forward. “No, Joel I don’t want–”

His hand wraps around your wrist gently, pulling you towards him to get you to stop in place. Your heart picks up the pace, closing your eyes to try and stay calm. “Look at me, please.”

When you don’t turn he yanks on your arm again, forcing you to spin into him and bump into his chest with a huff. You open your eyes to only look down, noticing the way his chest rises and falls against yours is erratic, almost like he can’t control himself. 

He says your name quietly, forcing your eyes up to his with his hand under your chin. You stare at him, unsure what his motives are, mind going into overdrive. What is the purpose of this? What does he want to talk about? You’re convincing yourself that yesterday was a mistake and that Joel wouldn’t want you the way that you’ve wanted him when he leans forward and presses his lips to yours again. 

Your eyes flutter shut when he pushes forward to you again, pulling back for a moment to inhale heavily and pressing his tongue out to yours. Brushing it against the seam of your lips to ask permission, sliding his hand up from your wrist into the back of your hair. 

You pull away suddenly after getting lost in his touch, eyes widening at him as he slowly lifts his gaze. “You don’t want me.” You breathe out, leaning further away from him. 

He tsks at you, tightening his grip and holding you in place. “I shouldn’t.” He confirms, leaning back forward and attaching his lips to yours again. 

What happens next seems natural. The way that he kisses your neck and pulls away only to find somewhere secluded off the trail, makes your head spin. How this is happening is beyond you, but your body is alight with desire and bubbling with excited anxiety. 

Joel can’t help but want to watch you only; make you feel good after yesterday's turmoil of Jason, of the diner, of kissing in his truck. He wants to convey to you that he wants you, and the only way to do that is to get on his knees for you while you’re pinned against this rock.

His fingers are gentle, cautious, and waiting for you to give the go-ahead before pulling the waistband of your pants down to your ankles and sliding one of your legs out. He’s quick to pull it over his shoulder, hands supporting your hips as he slowly and methodically explores you with his tongue. 

You bite your lip at the sight of his eyes looking back at you, his pink tongue reaching out to your slit and groaning with want at how you taste. “Oh, darlin’, if I had known this is how you taste–” He cuts himself off with another exploration of his tongue. “I would have said something sooner.”

The “something” that he would have said is lost on you, and easy to not dwell on as his tongue dips lower to your opening and barely enters to feel the smooth skin there. You sigh happily, closing your eyes and leaning your head back into the bark with a dull “thunk”. 

Joel feels his head spinning, his internal monologue telling him this is wrong, but unable to stop at the thought of seeing you let go. To see you completely relaxed in front of him is something he didn’t know he craved, but your plush legs surrounding him and your long neck exposed as you look up toward the sky makes his pants tighten with need and the want to see you come undone. 

And soon enough his tongue helps you do exactly that. Your hand pushes through his hair and yanks, feeling overwhelmed at the idea that Joel is the one to do this. “I’m close–I’m gonna–”

Joel doesn’t let up, pushing himself closer to your center and wrapping his lips around your clit. The suction and flick of his tongue is all you need, breath hitching in your throat and closing your eyes at the sensation. You come so heavily that Joel is seriously holding you up, fingers digging into your skin as your legs shake. 

When you come down your breath is coming out ragged, looking down at him to see his chin is covered with your wetness, a small smirk on his lips. He leans his head against your thigh that is still hanging over his shoulder, a sigh fanning over your center. He clears his throat, taking one hand and wiping his chin before patting your leg and helping you set it down. “I would have told you Jason was an ass sooner.” He clarifies, eyes bouncing between your own. 

Your face goes red again, his fingers pulling up the waistband of your pants as he stands up. He leans against you, his hard-on poking against your leg as you reach for it, wanting to reciprocate before he stops you. You look up at him again, furrowing your eyebrows at him in confusion. 

He gives you a small smile, sighing heavily before saying. “Next time, darlin’.”

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2,835 Words

Summary: Eclipse's found family finds him.

Warnings: Robot Gore, Injury, Amputation, Cursing, Near Death, PTSD, Panic Attack, Trauma, Surgery, Sibling Bonding, Angst with a serving of Fluff, Bathing Together (platonic, neither have bits down there), SFW Tickling, let me know if I should add anything else.

Found Family

Eclipse groaned pulling himself from the ball pit. What was left of him, at least. His left arm had had the hand ripped off and his right leg was missing from below the knee, his internals were attempting to pour out the deep gashes of claws in his stomach.

His right side upper faceplate had been ripped off along with right eye having been torn from its socket and wires. There was a deep gash down his left leg, leaving the limb half numb. And his chest and back had most of its casing mauled off, leaving his scratched endo and frame exposed and vulnerable.

He’d barely finished crawling his way from the ball pit before he saw a figure standing over him like a sadistic god and the blue he saw told him that this wasn’t the best person to find him this injured.

“So ya fucked up?” Moon asked, crouching before him and Eclipse glared with his remaining eye, this was all Moon’s fucking fault and Eclipse seethed at him.

“I went to kill him and he tried to destroy me!” Eclipse crackled out his half-broken voice box.

“Sad little worm, huh? Welp.” Moon stood up, slapping his thighs as he did so. “That’s a problem taken care of. I’m gonna go out and celebrate. You try to die quietly if you can.” Moon patted his aching head and Eclipse growled to keep him off, attempting to grab Moon’s hand and bite it since it was all he really could do at the moment. But Moon was quicker and got his hand away.

“Hey everyone, I’m buying shots! It’s celebration time!” Moon called through the daycare as he left to the upper level of the daycare as everyone followed him out of the daycare, shutting the lights off as he did so, leaving Eclipse in the darkness with just the ceiling of glowy stars illuminating barely to the top of the play structures.

Eclipse’s engines whirred on high as Eclipse used his remaining hand and the forearm of his left arm to crawl his way away from the ball pit and to the security desk, dragging and pulling down the emergency med kit and haphazardly dumping it on the ground with his right hand so he could get the contents.

His first grab was an ACE bandage, which he tried to put on his stomach with his one hand to some success. It looked sloppy as hell but his insides would stay inside. Eclipse’s processors whirred on max, fans turning slowly because they were half broken so they couldn’t fully cool him down and coolant was leaking out of him, having made a trail from the ball pit to the security desk already.

Eclipse secured the ACE bandage and then began packing gauze into his right knee where it had been ripped off and used another ACE wrap to keep pressure on it so the oil lines wouldn’t be leaking out. He repeated the same process to his left wrist and sighed as he rested one of the instant cold packs onto his processors, relaxing into the feeling of the cold pack helping his half-broken fans to cool him down.

Eclipse saw errors flashing that coolant and oil was low and critical machinery was damaged. Of course it was, he had lost body parts! He growled in annoyance at his creator. They had basically torn him to shreds and Moon didn’t give a single damn about it.

Eclipse hadn’t been able to get a single hit in on them. It had all simply been a blur after they had admitted that they made him and to them attacking him like he was a glorified punching bag. Eclipse hadn’t had a chance to even defend himself and the thought of it, even now, was terrifying.

He shuddered just thinking of the sound and feeling of his wires and endo creaking and cracking when his creator had snapped his right calf off the knee joint and torn it off of him. And the agony of having his left hand ripped off at the joint had been horrifying. The sick crunch the joint had made had made Eclipse throw up. He wasn’t even aware he could throw up, but he had at that sound of his endo crunching and snapping.

Eclipse felt lightheaded, his breaths were coming slower and he knew this was some kind of a panic reaction. Of course he would have a panic reaction. He had succeeded at getting his creator to take out the directives but at what cost? His body nothing more than scrap metal? His mind in shambles and panic? It didn’t feel worth it. Maybe he wasn’t worth a chance.

This train of thought absolutely didn’t help the panic. He was shaking. Why was he shaking? Was the daycare shaking? No, it was him. What was this? Eclipse hadn’t ever felt panic before, not this badly. It felt worse that when he was waiting for Moon and Sun to come kill him. It felt like it was all-consuming and crushing him.

The dark didn’t help either, he hated the dark just like both of his predecessors. He knew there weren’t monsters, there weren’t, but the dark was…scary. It felt like emptiness, like being abandoned again. And it felt cold. He light lights, the stars on the ceiling just weren’t enough light. Especially since solar models didn’t have very much eyesight in the dark. It felt like being stuck into a black box with holes poked in for air but even the air felt like it wasn’t enough.

----------

Blood Moon had finally gone prowling around with Stitchwraith. A joy! Prowling with their acquaintance! It was a ball to finally be out of that bunker place! Blood Moon had begun their prowling in the main entrance and were now going through the daycare, which had its lights off for some reason.

Blood Moon liked the dark, it was a warm place to them, it was comforting, but the sound of staticky sobs coming from the lower daycare wasn’t all that comforting. It was quite annoying actually. They hated crying! Hated it! It was weak!

Blood Moon wanted to snuff out that incessant sobbing and the annoying attendant the crying undoubtedly came from. So they went down to the lower daycare and sniffed around for it. Thankfully, they didn’t have to look for long, finding the sobbing’s source was a curled up and mangled Solar? Was this Solar? No, the dents on the rays and the scratches on the faceplate weren’t present. Could this be…?

----------

Stitchwraith followed Blood Moon to the sound of crying and gave a small gasp seeing the torn down frame of the animatronic they had been slightly amicable with, at least for gaming they had been. But what the hell did Eclipse deserve this for? To be torn to shreds and left to die? He hadn’t even done anything too bad yet, he hadn’t killed anyone at least.

“Eclipse?” Stitchwraith asked, crouching by him but it seemed to go unnoticed. Was Eclipse having a panic attack? “Eclipse, hey.” Stitchwraith knew they’d get hit but they had to shake Eclipse by the shoulder to even get a slight bit of a response.

Once they did shake Eclipse’s shoulder, Eclipse whipped his left arm at them, which was missing it’s hand and was instead bandaged with gauze and an ACE bandage. The hit from Eclipse’s forearm connected with Stitchwraith’s faceplate but didn’t so much as put a scratch on them from how weak Eclipse seemed to be.

Eclipse looked up at them after, eyes wild with panic and pain, breathing going a mile a minute and extremely defensive and scared. Stitchwraith felt Blood Moon tugging on their cloak and waved their hand off to keep Blood Moon behind them. Eclipse was a more pressing matter than answering Blood Moon’s question at the moment.

“Eclipse, it’s Stitchwraith. I need you to breathe slowly for us.” Stitchwraith instructed him. Eclipse’s motors shuddered as he tried to take slow breaths for Stitchwraith. “You’re safe. Can you point to what’s scaring you the most right now?” They asked. Eclipse wordlessly pointed his shaky right pointer finger up at the lights.

“Blood Moon, go turn on the lights.” Stitchwraith instructed the twin hellions, who scampered off to go do just that at his request, the lights turning on row by row until the daycare was illuminated completely, which looked to ease some of Eclipse’s panic.

“Are you able to tell me what happened to you or is it too hard right now?” Stitchwraith asked.

“Creator…mauled me…” Eclipse’s voice was staticky and a weird echoed pitch but he could decipher it still.

“The person who made you mauled you?” Stitchwraith asked to confirm and Eclipse nodded softly. “Why did they do that?” Stitchwraith asked.

“Went to get…directives out…” Eclipse admitted.

“Your creator is a bunch of bull. That’s really all you went to do and he left you like you’re in a scrap heap?” Eclipse nodded and Stitchwraith bristled with annoyance at the audacity of Eclipse’s creator. That was downright cruelty for absolutely no reason. Eclipse didn’t deserve to be mauled over a simple ask like that. The way Eclipse’s simple ask was treated was absolutely bullshit.

“How about this, if you let Blood Moon carry you, I’ll fix you.” Stitchwraith reasoned. Stitchwraith would carry Eclipse back, give Eclipse probably couldn’t walk with a missing leg and fragile machinery desperately trying to escape Eclipse’s frame, but their arms still hurt from Blood Moon using them as a scratching post this morning as if the small bot was a damn cat.

“Okay…” Eclipse agreed and looked to Blood Moon as the red and white faced bot came scampering back down to the lower daycare and sat on the floor, looking over the situation with their head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Blood Moon, you’re going to carry him home. I need to repair him.” Stitchwraith told them.

“Aaaawwwwww, why do we have to carry the Sunman!?” Blood Moon began their usual spiel of complaining about the simplest of tasks. This bot could pick up a full cement truck but complained at picking up an animatronic that probably barely weighed more than them.

“Because our arms still hurt from being used as scratching posts. Now pick him up and be careful. Make sure you keep his stomach level, his internals are trying to be externals.” Stitchwraith sighed. Blood Moon whined a bit more but inevitably picked Eclipse up and thankfully held Eclipse as though he were some princess. It was embarrassing for Eclipse, sure, but it kept Eclipse’s insides inside him.

“Okay, come on, back home.” Stitchwraith told them and began leading Blood Moon back to their bunker and into his lab, instructing Blood Moon to gently place Eclipse on a table so he could work on him. He had most of the parts from misships and scrounging but he knew full well Eclipse would look different than he used to.

“I’m going to turn off your pain sensors but just stay awake and talk to Blood Moon for me while I work on you.” Stitchwraith told Eclipse as he got the necessary parts and tools together to fix him.

“Blood Moon?” Eclipse asked as Stitchwraith turned off the bot’s pain receptors and began to patch up and put on a replacement left hand for Eclipse.

“Yes, unholy creator?” Blood Moon sat like a cat in the chair near Eclipse’s legs.

“I’m not your creator, I never made you. That was…the original me. Before the backup in your head, before I was even a spot on the wall.” Eclipse grumbled.

“So you didn’t make us but you are an Eclipse.” Blood Moon cackled.

“I don’t know what I am.” Eclipse admitted. “I may as well have been made in a fucking petri dish in a lab. I have no clue who I am or what I am, just that I’m here and apparently my name is Eclipse and I’m the asshole everyone hates.” Eclipse huffed as Stitchwraith finished up the hand replacement and moved onto Eclipse’s right calf and foot replacement.

“You are…like us? A copy?” Blood Moon asked.

“An incomplete copy, yes. With directives and pasted memories from other points of view and a creator that rips out my directives and leaves me to the mercy of people who will just let me rot in a hole.” Eclipse was angry but he wasn’t panicking at least.

“We are incomplete as well. Memories from other people and bloodlust enhanced with less free will. Bullshit it is.” Blood Moon grumbled. Huh, odd that the two who hated each other agreed. Eclipse sighed and put his head back down on the table.

Stitchwraith finished replacing his lost calf and foot and moved onto Eclipse’s mauled open midsection and began patching the endo cage that contained Eclipse’s insides that had been ripped open. It was easier here because it was taking out the broken bits of old endo and welding in new pieces of the endo. He was also replacing broken innards as he came across them.

“We’re in the same boat then. I…I could remove it. I think. I have the original’s pasted memories too, I’m sure I could sift through and take out the bloodlust.” Eclipse told him, watching Stitchwraith more than Blood Moon now as Stitchwraith was working of Eclipse’s faceplate, fixing the wires and socket and putting in a new eyeball and replacing the half of the faceplate that had been torn off.

“Take out? You can take that out?” Blood Moon asked.

“I think so. I could try at least.” Eclipse told them, sighing now as the only thing left was his body casing, which was something easy and much less surgical. It was akin to putting on a new outfit to animatronics, especially daycare animatronics, who sometimes had to take off their casing to clean it after days in the daycare.

A calm quiet settled in the lab as Stitchwraith got Eclipse into a purple and white casing, replacing the ribbons on Eclipse’s wrists with new purple ones that weren’t stained with coolant and oil and laid out new pants and a new shirt for Eclipse to get dressed into.

“Alright, go get clean. I have a sanitizing station here, it’ll get you clean. Blood Moon, you need to get cleaned too.” Stitchwraith told him, helping Eclipse stand up and turning back on his pain sensor since there wouldn’t be as much pain to feel. He could fix minor things like Eclipse’s half-broken voice box later. What was important was getting Eclipse to feel better and not take an entire day just to fix him. Plus he didn’t have a new voice box for him just yet.

Eclipse struggled sitting up, his endo aching from what a human would consider bruises. He could feel the stiffness in his new parts and his eye was still adjusting, making him blink that eye more, which was uncomfortable but bearable because he had full sight back again now. He just let Stitchwraith help him to his feet, grateful for the help from his brother? Cousin? Acquaintance, Eclipse was going with acquaintance with the weird family tree he didn’t want to deal with.

Eclipse was passed to Blood Moon so the smaller bot could help him along and Eclipse happily used them as a sentient cane for his new stiff foot and calf that was making him limp a bit  with how little the new ankle could move yet. Blood Moon supported him, which was surprisingly actually helpful.

“But brother goes in the cleaning tube.” Blood Moon and maneuvered the both of them into the tube, helping Eclipse get off his dirty old clothes and Blood Moon threw off his mud covered clothes and stayed with his brother so they’d both get cleaned like Stitchwraith asked.

Blood Moon giggled at the sanitizing mist and roared with laughter at the brushes that came to scrub off the worst grime. Eclipse only needed the sanitizing mist to heat the coolant and oil on him enough to drip off into the drain in the floor. But Eclipse liked seeing his little brother laugh. It was nice to have this moment.

Eclipse never got to have this with…the others. But it felt nice to watch his brother laugh at the brushes going after the ticklish spots on his back. He kind of liked this, it made him feel warmth bloom in his chest that one of his siblings wasn’t scared of him or wishing him death or even leaving him to die.

Once Eclipse was clean, he left the tube while Blood Moon was still giggling up a storm getting scrubbed because he rolled in dirt from what it seemed like. Eclipse pulled on the new clothes and smoothed his hands over them, they were actually comfortable and not itchy like his old clothes. He liked being here. It felt like home.

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Rant time, long post here we gooooo-

Oh Iger... You just keep being a capitulating dingus, huh? And I gotta keep talking about that, huh? I mean, I can choose not to... But I'm gonna, because I'm getting even more tired of Iger's nonsense and I want him OUSTED like yesterday. Like a Roy E. Disney "Save Disney"-style ousting. He's been CEO for over 15 years now, it's gone to his head and he's spiraling in the same way Eisner did in his final years, it's time to go!

So now we're down to environmentalism as a big no-no, in Iger's attempts to wipe future Disney films clean of any "messages".

I grew up in the 1990s. Environmental messages were all over cartoons and movies and media. In fact, we were sorta at the end of that "New Age" "back to nature" era, and we were now in a post-CAPTAIN PLANET sorta timeframe. A lot of stuff I grew up with was very nature-loving, very anti-corporate abuse of power and harm of the planet. Episodes of cartoons, specials, whole movies like FERNGULLY: THE LAST RAINFOREST, and even Disney had some environmental messaging going on in THE LION KING and POCAHONTAS... Though it wasn't without significant pushback, as this is nothing new.

Hey, you wanna hear an era-specific story that's really wild? Around the late '90s, some conservative logger wrote and published a belated "response" to Dr. Seuss' 1971 classic THE LORAX with... TRUAX... Yeah, we had weird DailyWire-lookin' rant shit that was in response to older "politically correct" books that existed for years... We had that nonsense back then, too! The right **always** had a problem with environmental stories, and they were always LOUD about it.

And I remember, when I was a teenager, going on message boards and such for the first time. Mainly IMDb, because it was for movies, ya know? 2005-06. I had seen George Miller's animated feature HAPPY FEET in theaters, with a packed audience who applauded at the end. I really enjoyed it, myself, but then... Logging onto IMDb... Seeing most of the user reviews and message board posts... Reading the utter contempt for it. How "politically correct" it was, that it was "propaganda" from the liberals. I remember Fox News having a conniption fit over it. One post online said something to the tune of "I was expecting Al Gore to show up at the end with a message." HAPPY FEET was released around the time of AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH, so that made matters worse. I remember that whole time of environmentalism being uncool, that you were some bleeding heart tree-hugging sissy-ass liberal mamby-pamby. Manbearpig. Etc.

... When that movie was really no different from every other environmental cartoon, movie, or show I've seen. HAPPY FEET's radical sin was... Calling out pollution and negligence of our oceans? Very basic stuff? Hell, much of George Miller's own MAD MAX saga is set in an awful post-collapse world where humans blew each other up over oil and riches. The only exception being the first movie, which is taking place DURING said collapse! And his work on BABE and directing the sequel PIG IN THE CITY, two very pro-animal rights movies about a pig that escaped from a dinner plate fate, hell the first BABE movie drove Farmer Hoggett actor James Cromwell to become a vegan. Like, c'mon. The blow-up over HAPPY FEET's environmentalism was very silly back in 2006.

Right-wingers and conservatives continued to complain about these kinds of movies. WALL-E got flack when it came out in 2008, which was at the tail end of W. Bush's presidency no less. The Illumination LORAX movie in 2012 got heat, and they also got all testy at THE LEGO MOVIE for being "anti-business" or some such nonsense when it's a movie that's literally based on a massive toy franchise.

These people are always going to be angry no matter what. It goes beyond giving trans people a time to shine, they will find something else that's morally right or generally good - like taking care of our planet, ya know, the big-ass rock in space that we live on - and throw tantrums... and taking the environmental message out of HOPPERS - a literal movie about beavers and a land developer looking to destroy their home... Like, Iger, what the hell are you doing? You were CEO when WALL-E was made, and when you regained the CEO role, AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER came out, which- James Cameron's sci-fi movie spawned a whole section one of your company's theme parks and- Are we gonna see a new edit of WALL-E that removes all references to what humans did to the future Earth setting in that movie?

Head-bangingly obtuse.

So what would HOPPERS be without the developer villains, then? What do Disney heads want out of new original $175m+ costing movies from the company's film divisions? If they just made some silly forgettable beaver cartoon, it could still have some artistic flair and flourish, but the whole appeal of the arts - not just movies made by some big-time animation studio - is that they're stories personal to their creators... Because humans want that connection when witnessing a work of art or being told a story. But no, companies as big as Disney are cynical enough to believe humans can just be fed AI-generated shit and they'll be satisfied. No, lots of people obviously want more than that. Why are they flocking to MOANA 2 and even MUFASA in theaters right now?

They feature characters that they connected with in non-neutered movies made a looooooong time ago.

MOANA and the original LION KING wouldn't be made under such strict, cowardly mandates now. MOANA especially: Oceanic setting and not-Caucasian characters, a story of a demigod stealing something that belongs to the land, causing environmental destruction- like, c'mon, it's absolutely about environmentalism and colonialism. It's "woke", "DEI", everything the right-wing HATES. And it was a hit in fall 2016/early 2017, which was right after that Orange Fartfrog was handed the election by forces that went against the will of the people who voted for the email lady over him. Still a big hit, despite that guy succeeding. And it continued to be a streaming sensation thereafter. The original LION KING may not have humans in it, but the whole 'Circle of Life' song and theme is certainly pretty environmental and about the ways of nature, and how we are... Ya know, all connected in the great circle of life?

From the day we arrive on the planet And, blinking, step into the sun There's more to see than can ever be seen More to do than can ever be done There's far too much to take in here More to find than can ever be found But the sun rolling high Through the sapphire sky Keeps great and small on the endless round It's the circle of life And it moves us all Through despair and hope Through faith and love 'Til we find our place On the path unwinding In the circle The circle of life

Ya know, I read at least one diatribe about this song posted back in the '90s somewhere on the World Wide Web (dating myself there), calling the song "new age", "preachy", "brainwashing" whatever... Again, nothing new. Even back in the '90s, somebody had a hang-up with the goddamn 'Circle of Life' song from the goddamn LION KING...

You see how absurd this all is?

Wanna go further back? We'll go no further than LION KING's own inspiration, BAMBI! Which was absolutely about what Man does to nature, which paralleled Man's destruction of the planet during World War II, the war this movie was released during. And post-BAMBI, Disney made plenty of pro-nature movies, movies portraying hunting in a not-so-positive light. Disney made anti-fascist cartoons during World War II, training films. DER FUEHRER'S FACE, EDUCATION FOR DEATH, COMMANDO DUCK, THE SPIRIT OF '43. Sure, those were about the fascists overseas and were mandated by the U.S. government, but they made 'em, and didn't hold back. Nowadays, the company is in bed with these kinds of fascists, but at home, on American soil. Could you an imagine an explicitly anti-MAGA Donald Duck cartoon where the temperamental quacker socks a MAGAT? I'd love to see it, honestly. Where was I? Oh yeah, environmentalism... You even have a whole didactic theme park dedicated to the world we live in. Epcot! Ya know? Living with the Land?

Anyways... Before I keep grousing... So, erasing queerness from future projects (INSIDE OUT 2, WIN OR LOSE), now environmentalism (HOPPERS)... What's next? What do Disney heads dial back in their pathetic attempts to appease an insatiable beast? No more female protagonists? No more stories that aren't about white people? No more stories that are about, like, anything?

This will bite them in the ass, hard. Especially if they keep blowing massive budgets on these things. Filmmakers might walk from these projects, even.

Get rid of Iger, fuck Trump and the far-right, LET THE FILMMAKERS MAKE MOVIES.

[petermorwood]

Here’s a dish from French Cooking Academy, another of my subscribed YouTube channels.

I like the business of stuffing each chunk of beef with a bit of garlic and bacon; I’ve done this with lamb, using garlic and lemon. Another interesting detail is the use of cinnamon, suggesting a way-back-when influence either from the Moors or having access to spices as they passed through from Dpain Spain or North Africa on the way to somewhere else.

Kokkinisto (Greek) and Tajine (Morocco) also use cinnamon - and cloves, and nutmeg, and ginger etc. etc. depending on recipe. I’ve made both, they’re really excellent.

@dduane​ and I got Very Interested because the use of what Mum used to call “cake spices” is also quite medieval and, in DD’s case, adaptable for the Middle Kingdoms project.

The Corsican one recommends rigatoni, cannelloni or similar large hollow pasta (presumably to hold lots of sauce!) For a more medieval approach I’d try Loseyns from late-1300s cookbook “The Forme of Cury” (that’s “cookery” without the k, so “coo’rey” not “curry”.)

*****

These are often regarded as Richard II-era ”lasagne”, though I wonder if there’s also an association with heraldic “lozenges”, easily created by cutting a sheet of pasta dough slantwise...

Either way, here’s “Tasting History with Max Miller” (subscribed of course!) having a go at Loseyns, which turn out like mac & cheese with extra spices.

Max ended up eating them with a stick because forks hadn’t been introduced yet, but IMO a better utensil would be the historical eating pick, like one of these.

...or even a spoon, especially if the loseyns were cut small with that in mind.

However eating pasta with the fingers - like many other foods - may have been done in the 1300s; it was certainly recorded in paintings from the 1600s...

...right up to the 1800s...

...though I don’t think these were dressed with anything more than oil or butter and some grated cheese, and the potential for messy eating was still pretty high. Eating small pasta rather than dangly strands with the fingers was probably much tidier, especially if diners knew the proper etiquette for doing it...

Finally, here’s something from our own store-cupboard, bought out of curiosity during a recent visit to Polonez in Dublin.

This is pasta cut into little squares; both the front and the back of the pack calls them łazanka...

...and according to Google Translate, this just means “pasta noodles”.

However...

Can any followers tell me if "łazanka” has any relationship to “lasagna” or “lozenge”? An enquiring mind wants to know! :->

ETA: @seriously-mike​ says “...łazanki were brought to Poland in 16th century by queen Bona Sforza (so) the relationship with lasagna might be there.” See his Reply for more info.

ETA (2): A little bell went off in my head about the shapes in the bag and I suddenly remembered seeing them as something call “torn pasta” - the Italian word is “maltagliati“ - which were made using re-rolled scraps of dough from “formal” shapes; more info at that link.

[kenzuieee]

ran haitani x spoiled gf

nothing..just some ran headcanons

ran haitani who doesn’t even try to hide the fact that hes staring at you while being behind the wheel of his bugatti la voiture noire.

ran haitani whose eyes glance from the street infront of his eyes to you. he practically undress you with them anytime theres a red light as his left hand grips the steering wheel whilst his right hand caresses your plush thighs. 

y/n who has to constantly remind ran to focus on the road as he keeps losing focus due to y/n quite literally seducing him without even knowing it.

y/n who constantly runs up ran’s bank card almost every day without a care in the world ? why should she care ? her boyfriend is ran haitani for fucks sake !!

y/n who puts her pretty feet painted white on ran’s dashboard as she mindlessly scrolls on instagram.

“rannn, do you think this would look good on me ?” you ask as you show the older haitani the most basic dress ever with a big smile plastered over your face.

“baby..that dress is so plain and simple for $2000.” he chuckles as he eyes the short black wool and silk dior dress on your cracked iphone 14 pro max. “and when did you crack your phone love ? i just bought it two months ago.”

you huff and pout as you lean back into the black seat of his luxury car. “so you’re saying it’d be ugly on me ?” you roll your eyes and continue, “and its the screen protector idiot.”

“i didnt say that love, anything looks good on you. i just dont think its worth that price.” ran mutters.

“whatever ran, im still going to buy it” you roll your eyes again while putting the dress in your cart, along with the DIOR ADDICT LIP GLOW OIL and some simple red bottom heels to match the dress. 

ran haitani who would definitely buy his girlfriend skims okay ?

you never have any luck with skims drops, as if anyone ever does. so you find yourself constantly complaining to ran about how what you want is never in stock or everything being sold out before you can even get to it. honestly, you weren’t TELLING ran to buy you skims, you were just complaining about the unfortunate situation thats been happening for months and months with each drop.  so when you and ran haitani left another bonten meeting at a bonten owned club, he told you about how he had a surprise awaiting you at your shared penthouse.

a series of “rannnn, what is it ? will you tell me please ?” flooded his ears during the car ride home that he simply smiled and answered with a simple “you’ll see.”

uppon arrival you see two large delivery boxes sitting upon the doorstep and you question what it could be. ran carries them inside with ease. ran removes his shoes after taking the boxes inside and tells you to sit infront of him and open the packages. you look at him with a puzzled face but nonetheless, you open the first box.

anticipation kills you as you remove the loads of packing peanuts and tissue to finally see a clear bag that says “SKIMS” on it and you almost pass out. 

“babeee” you look at him with puppydog eyes “did you really ? is all of this for me” you look at him as hes pouring some tequila into a clear glass with a cigarette between his lips. he looks at you, winks, and tells you to try everything on for him. of course, the first set you try on for him is the “fits everybody micro thong” and the “fits everybody micro triangle barlette.”

hi pookies, first post ig :3 this is the first “fanfic” i’ve written ig (?) lmk how i did and should i write a nsfw part 2 ? idk !! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

[daphwritesworld]

U went off the maps when will u be back writing?

hopefully i’ll be back to writing soon. my mental and physical health have taken a turn, so i’m mainly focused on that right now. i’m having these god awful migraines that leave me in bed for most of the day. my room is the only place i can get them to stop. i think it’s because it’s dark and at the very end of the house so it’s quiet. any type of light irritates it. especially screens. tv, phone, or computer. because of that i’ve mainly been sleeping— if my brain doesn’t feel like it’s being kicked repeatedly by a footballer at max force. i’ve never had my fucking head hurt like this before. im talking it starts tingling, throbbing, and it’s even hard for me to talk. i’ve also been forgetting shit so much. the main ones are: i keep leaving one of the fridge doors open or forgetting something important out of it on the counter, and forgetting words i should know. stupid shit like “clipboard” or “sponge” will just slip my mind for 5/10 minutes. i was scheduled for a neuro exam, but as of January 1st my insurance switched to united healthcare (yes THAT united healthcare.) so now i have to go back to my neurologist, get the order put back in, wait to see if this new insurance approves it, and then wait god knows how long for the actual evaluation date. (if it even gets approved😀) but i’ll be back to posting after my headaches or migraines or whatever these god awful head pains are lessen up or go away completely. no over the counter meds have helped so far, and the one my doctor prescribed made me sick. so if y’all know some old grandma hacks about getting rid of head pain PLEASE TELL ME. i’ve tried wearing my glasses 24/7 to not stress my eyes, caffeine, ice packs, chugging iced water to get a brain freeze, hot teas, essential oils, and hell i’ve even tried yoga. i will try ANYTHING at this point. anyways that’s enough trauma dumping for today. sorry for going MIA on y’all, but i’ve resorted to lying in my bed with the curtains drawn and basking in the dark lol. see ya soon my lovelies 🩷

[xwritingdixonx]

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 4 |

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series masterlist

Summary: The Georgian group and the Blackwell family have their first interaction together over breakfast.

Warnings: descriptions of a physical fight, death / accidental murder, language

Word count: aprox. 4k

Tags: @fuseburner @catisnotademonn

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The gravel underneath your feet crunched as you crouched down behind the brick building. Tommy was close behind you.

You were on your way back to Alexandria when you passed a shopping strip where you decided to grab any more last-minute supplies. There was a pharmacy, a couple sketchy-looking restaurants, and a liquor store.

The plan was to park the trucks a mile or so away, go scavenge the shopping center, then make your way back to the trucks with what you'd found. Henry stayed back with the trucks to make sure they were protected while the rest of you made the walk to the stores. It all went smoothly. Until, when you got back to the trucks, Eddie had forgotten his pack at one of the shops you'd cleared.

After you had a few remarks to say in response, he went back for it. He should've been back within 20 minutes max but when he didn't return, you and Tommy went to look for him. And that's where you had seen Eddie on his knees, hands in the air, a lady with long brown hair pointing a gun at him. Her clothes were raggedy and stained with dirt. She was holding his pack in her other hand. He was trying to reason with her but you were too far to hear what he was saying.

"I'm gonna go around back." You whispered back to Tommy, "Cut through the pharmacy and just grab her." You could see from the look he gave you that he didn't like that idea, "It's one girl, I got this."

You slipped through the back door of the pharmacy, slipping through the aisles to make your way to the front. The sound of glass crunching under your foot makes your body recoil. Fuck. Whatever voices you heard, fell silent. It all happened so fast, she stormed into the pharmacy and you had a choice to hide now, fight later. Or just get it over with.

You grabbed her, pointing the gun to the ceiling. With her free hand, she threw a punch which hit you perfectly in the jaw. It wasn't a hard punch, you'd been hit harder but it was the warm blood you felt on your tongue and the familiar taste that took you a back. You wrestled her for the gun and once you felt your finger slip into the familiarity of the trigger, you pulled.

It was when she fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath her did you realize the small bump of her stomach.

It was as if your feet took a few steps back on their own and your brain stuttered as it tried to process what you did. Your hands trembled, gun still in hand and your ears fell quiet. Only a buzzing noise remains. You understood now, what Eddie was trying to do, he was reasoning with her, he was trying to get her to come back to Alexandria.

You brought your hand up to pull the neck of your shirt off your throat as the nausea rose in your throat. Your hands fell to your knees as your chest heaved with short breaths. Tommy rushed into the pharmacy to makre sure you were okay from the sound of the gunshot. "Y/n, Y/n"

"Y/n?" Daryl came around the corner, wandering into the kitchen looking for you. You looked up from your spot at the counter chopping onions and greeted him with a warm smile and a sweet goodmorning. Stood around the kitchen with you was Cecilia and the boys.

“What are y’all doin’?” Cecilia stood at the kitchen island, kneading a ball of dough, folding it in and out of itself. There was a basket of potatoes, still with dried dirt on them, sitting next to the kitchen sink. Luke was washing them, then passing them off to Jace to be cut into cubes. There was a large pan sitting on the stove, the fire underneath warming the oil within. You used your index finger to clean each side of your knife, the chopped onions that remained on it falling on top of the already existent pile.

“Celia” You spoke wiping your hands from the onion juices onto a kitchen towel, “take this over for me please.” Celia nodded at you and took the cutting board, swiping the onions into the hot pan. “Come” you murmured to Daryl as you walked by, taking him by his hand, leading him down the hall to the large sliding glass doors which led to the back yard. The sun was bright in the baby blue sky, it’s beams radiating warmth on your skin.

The backyard looked radiant in the early morning. The grass was slightly overgrown, random weeds and flowers taking a home there. The porch was a reasonable size. On one end there was a fireplace that looked to be never lit, circled with outdoor seating. The other end bore a small picnic bench, in the middle of it was a picnic basket that was full of bright oranges, dark green leaves still attached. All four corners of the porch held large pots full of flowers.

In the far left corner of the backyard there was a wooden chicken coop. In the right corner, there was a small orange tree, the dark leaves decorated with orange hues. Next to the tree, lining the entire right side fence, was a large garden full of more plants. But not any plants, these were herbs for the kitchen. Daryl could practically smell the lavender and mint from his spot on the porch. Then there was a clothes line, empty at the moment. And lastly four large wooden planter boxes, all flourished with different fruits and veggies. Written on the wood was what grew in them.

Nellie was knelt down at one, gloves covering her hands from the dirt. When she heard the doors slide open she turned to wave and smile, shielding her eyes from the sun as she said good-morning to Daryl and briefly asking him how he slept. “Deanna’s having a little meeting at the church, after we’ll have breakfast. Invite your group.” You instructed Daryl, arms crossed over your chest. He simply nodded at you, catching his bottom lip to gently chew on, “What’s wrong handsome?”

He was anxious. Anxious for you to meet his group, for them to meet you. He hadn’t mentioned you, not once, and to say he felt guilty would be an understatement. It was as if he never claimed you, was never proud of you, which was the farthest from the truth. You were the one thing Daryl was proudest of even if he felt like he never deserved it, always saying you were too good for him, too pretty, too kind. He wasn’t worried about them liking you, there was no way in hell they wouldn’t. He was worried about you liking them. Your opinion mattered most to him but if for some reason your feelings were off, he’d be torn.

But you lived in the same community now. You were no longer thousands of miles away, states away, potentially dead. You were closer than ever, a street over to be exact.

Rick had most likely already told them, considering Daryl didn’t return to the shared house last night.

His shoulders shrugged, mumbling a i don’t know, to you. You smiled at you and nudged him with your elbow, “i’m not mad at you, ya know that ?” You caught his eye, a hint of seriousness there. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows together as if he didn’t know what you were hinting, “For leaving, for not looking, for it being so long, for…..anything.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips, as if you yourself were coming to terms with forgiving him. Daryl didn’t seem to waste a second as he wrapped you softly in his arms, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “M’sorry”

You rubbed a hand down his back, “I know.” You could’ve stayed like that, you could’ve fallen asleep like that, almost as if you were swaying in his arms. You gave him a hard pat on the back and slipped away, “Alright go, I got potatoes to get back to”

Daryl slipped his way into the yellow front door of the shared group home. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, hide ? Slip past everyone ? “Good-morning” That thick southern drawl disrupted Daryl practically freezing him in his boots. Daryl stood up straight, facing Rick and the rest of the group who all wore knowing yet curious grins on their faces. It felt as if Daryl was a teenager who’d snuck out the night before and was now busted by his parents, “Morning.”

There was a second of awkward silence as no one knew exactly what to say or do. There were a thousand questions that could be asked but the walls Daryl had built still remained and no one wanted to pry. Carol on the other hand, didn't seem to mind "Where is she?" Daryl shifted on his feet "At her place." Carol waited for more than just that, "Okayyy so..." Carol had that typical awaiting smile on her face, poking Daryl more. "There's uh..." Daryl scratched the back of his neck, it was as if he didn't know what to do with himself, "....a meetin' at the church, we're supposed to go."

"Alright," Rick bounced a still sleepy Judith on his hip, "Everyone get ready, leave Daryl alone."

The group got ready, attempting their best to look presentable yet comfortable in their new environment. They weren't sure what they expected from you or your group. Rick had mentioned to them that it looked like you were with a large group, seeing the house size and the other people that had stood with you on the porch the day before. Were you stuck up, clean, and polished like the rest of the Alexandrians? Or were you more like them?

On your walk to the church, you grabbed Tommy to come with you. You refused to go in there alone and whoever you asked to come with you, represented you, represented your family. And who better than the tall, buff, texan man himself? “Ya nervous?” Tommy asked as the small building came into view, you thought to yourself, were you? You weren’t until Tommy mentioned it, realizing you were walking into a room full of strangers. Practically sitting there waiting to judge you for who you were. “Well now I am.”

The wood doors to the small brick building creaked open, distributing whatever Deanna was saying. Both yours and Tommy’s boots were heavy on the wood floor as you walked down the narrow aisle. Eyes were instantly on you. The way your long hair softly flowed with each of your steps, the way your arms fell at your side, the sway in your walk, like you knew where you were going and who you were.

The black jeans you wore hugged your curves perfectly. Your black shirt was fitted to your body, with a completely open back. The angel wings tattooed there on show. And for a second as you were turned around taking those 2 steps up onto the lifted floor, your back and Daryl’s back aligned perfectly and it made sense as to why Daryl picked up that angel winged vest at the beginning.

The silver accents of your jewelry complimented your all black outfit perfectly. Like those rich victorian people who decorated themselves in gold and pearls to show off their wealth. There should've been a crown on your head becasue had royalty existed now, it would be you. The way you carried yourself, the way you stood next to Deanna. Your hands intertwined, your chest broad and proud, paired with your toned arms, and your height. You standing next to Deanna made her look so much smaller than she was, in height and in leadership.

“How’s it going?” Deanna whispered to you, “Good” you replied giving her a reassuring smile and a wink. She smiled at you before turning back to the room, “This is Y/n, Y/n Blackwell…..my right hand.” She said that sentence with pride and maybe a hint of arrogance, your eyes glanced over at Tommy who raised his eyebrows at you with a grin. "And this is Tommy" Tommy threw up a hand to say hello, Deanna continued to speak. “I think we’ve come up with perfect jobs for everyone.” Deanna pulled out one of those little memo pads that she seemed to love so much and flipped it open to a page. “Okay so” Despite Deanna speaking, you could feel the eyes that still lingered on you.

It wasn’t in a judging way. More admirable. In awe.

"Sasha and Rosita you're gonna be joining the watch and gate crew, Tommy's in charge of that."

"Abraham you'll be joining the constrution crew, when you're not doing that you can help out on watch as well" As Deanna spoke you looked at each person she spoke to, remembering names and faces.

"Glenn, Tara, and Noah you'll be joining the run group. My son Aiden helps with that, as does Y/n's brother, Eddie"

"Carol's gonna help out in the pantry" An act. You had looked at Carol for a second and that's all you saw. The sweet smile, clean clothes, and wave she gave you. At this point she was topping the normal Alexandrian's.

"Maggie you'll be working with Y/n and I. When you're not, you'll be helping Y/n's sister, Nellie, with the farming.

"And lastly, Rick and Michonne. We're gonna call you 'patrol'. Henry, Tommy's brother, has been doing it himself. You make sure everything's safe, everyone's safe. If something happens, you bring it to myself or Y/n."

There was a commom theme in the jobs that Deanna assigned. Each person who helped, ran, controlled something within Alexandria all connected to you. There was no way it was a coincedence and Rick took note.

Your eyes met Daryls, who sat in the front row next to Tommy. He could see the way the corners of your lips almost formed a smile but you caught yourself before it could. Daryl looked at you deeply, eyes soft, returning your same smile. "Y/n, anything you wanna add?" Deanna snapped you from your gaze, as if she had caught you standing there gawking at your husband. "Uhm, we've prepared a breakfast over at the gazebo if anyone would like to join." You hoped you sounded as welcoming as you intended to.

"You can get back to it you need to, I'll finish up here and send them your way." Deanna reassured you, you gladly accepted her offer. Nudging your head at Tommy to come with you. When you walked passed Daryl you brushed your hand over his shoulder, it was a subtle touch but it didn't go unnoticed by some, especially not Daryl.

As the group approached the large wooden gazebo, Daryl in lead, the sight before them could only be described as magical. The greenery and sunshine added to the affect. Four wooden picnic tables were pushed together and aligned to create one large table. There were 2 extra wooden chairs put at the heads of the table to complete the “dining table”. Pushed to the edge of the gazebo was a small wood table that held 2 coffee pots. One had hot black coffee, the other held steaming hot water. As well as a rectangular wicker basket that was piled up with random coffee cups. And three large mason jars lined up in a row. One was full of honey, the other full of sugar, and the last was full of random tea bags.

The long picnic table was full of plates, utensils, and glasses. The benches all had a different blanket that was folded long ways for extra cushion against the rough wood. Daryl watched you laugh at whatever Celia and Nellie had said to you, wide smiles on their faces as well. You and Nellie’s smiles were both wide, joyful, and lit up your whole face. Daryl watched you put down 2 glass pitchers, one full of plain water and the other full of what looked to be orange juice.

Your eyes caught Daryl’s and you waved him over, the rest of his group following. “You think this is gonna go okay?” Celia asked, hopping down from where she sat on top of the table. “Sure as shit hope so” Tommy muttered.

Nellie greeted the group with a high-pitched ‘Hi’ and a wide smile on her face. “Carl” Jace said happily as he trotted up to the boy, Luke close behind. It made you happy. To see them have a friend beside each other, to see them so happily greet their new friend and begin talking with smiles on their faces. They had tried to become friends with the kids already in Alexandria but the other parents always pulled their children away. Tommy had gone over to Carl and Rick to say hello, introducing himself as Jace and Luke’s father. The 3 boys looked like 3 peas in a pod. All paler completions, brown shaggy hair, though Jace and Luke’s was much curlier than Carl’s. They hadn’t known each other for long, 4 days at most, but they already seemed to have formed a bond.

"Hey" Daryl greeted you, "Hi" You took a step closer to him, standing closer to him than anyone ever has. "Deanna didn't give me no job" Daryl almost seemed disappointed as if he had been left out, "I got a job for you" For a second Daryl thought you were talking about yourself with the way you softly put your hand on his upper arm, but you roughly patted his arm, "Have breakfast with your family." He scoffed as he followed you, "Bout lunch time now"

He could hear you chuckle as you walked over to your seat. Almost everyone had already picked seats, besides a few others that were checking out the table with tea and coffee. You took one of the wooden chairs at the head of the table, before you could seat yourself, Daryl was behind the chair. Pulling it out and pushing it in for you before taking a seat on the bench to the right of you.

It seemed as if everyone was too intimated to take anything from the table in front of them. As if they were scared to even touch the pitcher of water. "You can take whatever you want, there's enough for everyone." Nellie reassured, adding things to her own plate. Despite the hesitation still being there, they began to fill their plates with food. "Is that bacon?" Carl abruptly said, maybe a tad bit louder than he meant for it to be. You couldn't help but laugh a little, "Yeah, Tommy found a pig a little big ago and we've kept most of it in the freezer"

None of you were exactly butchers, resulting in the bacon being poorly cut unlike how it used to be in the grocery stores. But it smelled like bacon, tasted like bacon, so bacon was bacon.

"There's some eggs in that one there but not too many, the chickens didn't lay shit this season" You motioned to the small red dutch oven that still had its lid on. The whole meal that laid out on the table was nothing short of shocking, regardless if there was enough scrambled eggs for everyone. There was a large white platter with floral designs around the edge, piled high with biscuits. Two large mason jars sat near them, one full of what looked to be strawberry jam. The other was a deep reddish purple, made from wildberries.

Your jam and your biscuits were always Daryl's favorite so you weren't surprised when he had 3 of them, smothered in jam on his plate.

There was another large pot full of well-seasoned, perfectly cooked, breakfast potatoes. And lastly there was the wicker basket, that had what remained of the oranges, after you had made orange juice.

Once everyone's hesitation wore off, conversations stemming from all different directions filled the air. You talked to Daryl and Tommy who sat on either side of you. "I hate to be the one to do it" Everyone's conversation was cut short by a femnine voice, Carol. You adverted your attention to her as you heard Daryl mutter a, please don't, under his breath. "But, how did you two meet?" For what felt like the fifth time today, eyes were once again on you.

You always hated that question. You weren't sure how people would react, you had heard your fair share of insults and questionable looks from people before. "Uhm, it's a little complicated I guess? D was Eddie's best friend growing up so we kinda grew up together." It wasn't too difficult to notice you and Daryl's age gap, which is why people turned an eye.

Your mom raised Daryl as if he was her own. Daryl never minded it, he actually preferred it, needing an escape from his abusive home. So Daryl was always there. But he was always there six years ahead of you.

"My mom moved us from Georgia to Virginia when I was fourteen and when I was twenty-one I went back to Georgia...that's where we met up again."

-

After breakfast, Maggie was the only one who stayed behind offering to help you clean up. There wasn't a plate left on the table that wasn't practically licked clean. Everyone else had separated into groups, going about their day with their full tummies, taking a tour of their new jobs and responsibilities. Daryl stayed back to help as well. But at the moment he was already on his way back to your home with as many dishes as he could carry.

You could tell Maggie was trying the most out of anyone in the new group. Especially with you. "The food was amazing" Maggie commented picking up all the silverware and tossing them into a basket. You had always been complimented on your cooking but that didn't mean you didn't appreciate some attention here and there. "Did you go to school for it?"

You shook your head at her and sighed, "Daryl always told me to. But I just always felt like if I did it as a job, I'd end up hatin' it." Maggie nodded at you with an understanding look in her eyes.

"The biscuits and jam were the best I ever had. I think they were better than my mama's" You couldn't help but allow a smile to form on your lips, "I've heard that more times than you'd think" You filled an old plastic laundry basket with the dirty dishes to haul back to your home, it was far easier to carry that way. "I can give you a jar of jam if you'd like." You offered, you could see Maggie begin to protest and you waved a hand at her. "I have more than enough in my pantry, won't starve without just one."

A silence settled over the two of you as you continued to clean but you could see the small smirk that lingered on Maggie's face. "Ya know" Maggie stopped cleaning and stood up straight, balancing the basket on her hip causing you to do the same. "You seem like a really good person." You movements stopped at her words. You knew deep down, you weren't. Sure you were kind and generous sometimes but after the things you did, how could you be considered a good person? You shook your head at her, "You don't know me."

"I don't need to."