#miss daija

[roseamongroses]

The Princess & I : THREE

Shuri/Riri Williams | Original Characters, Namor of Talokan, Daija Hamilton, Xavier King, Sharon Williams, Bruce Banner [Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses][Period Typical Attitudes][Magic] [Groundskeeper!Riri] [Prequel][Fluff][Brief Sexual Content] [princess and pauper nonsense]

ao3

[1] [2]

Summary:

At night, there was no difference between them.

Only love.

-

“Oh?”

Riri stopped in her tracks at the voice, recognizing it without fail.

“Isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?” The older woman mused, eyes crinkling as she smiled down at the young lady. Strong arms carried platters of silver trays stacked up to her chin with ease. She had an even stronger presence, which briefly drew the attention of the remaining maids in the hall—quieting the clucking of gossip at once.

Mrs. Hamilton—the Head Maid.

Sheepish, Riri tucked her twists behind her ear without thinking. An old habit from her youth to avoid getting scolded for her hair being in her face. Before she was a Groundskeeper, she was suppose to be a maid. She spent so much time hanging about her Step-Father, Mom thought she’d benefit from taking a job in the household as well.

Mrs. Hamilton oversaw her training. A wretched fate for such a competent woman.

Once Riri was transferred, she decided to spare her the embarrassment and avoid the woman at all cost.

“You don’t have to hide,” Mrs. Hamilton arched an eyebrow, tone scolding, “No one would mind if you ate with the rest of the staff.”

Riri continued to study the tiled floor, discomfort rising at the attention, “I’d rather rest ma’am,” she mumbled, “And I’m afraid I hardly have any appropriate attire.”

Mrs. Hamilton sighed, “All the lads eat covered in mud-and-all,” she notes, with a hint of displeasure, “But…someone could always lend you something,” she suggested, causing the young lady to look up, startled. She met Riri's questioning look with an easy grin, “You don’t need to hide, even if your profession is indecent. I quite miss seeing your scrawny hide in the light of day,” she inclined her head, “Daija misses you as well. Please indulge us with your presence on occasion.”

Mrs. Hamilton--The Head Maid.

An old, family friend.

Daija, her daughter, was a former maid at the estate who trained alongside her for a brief time. She had married a couple years ago and moved further into town to assist her husband with the family business. Riri knew from her Mom and her sister, Sharon, that Daija often asked about her, but she…

It was all too easy to dismiss such inquiries as politeness. Everyone knew what her family had witnessed before the riots erupted. It made people kinder, made their words soft and quiet when she drew near.

Riri survived, but at what cost?

She was only a reminder of what had been lost. Of the violence that could be deployed by the wave of a hand that will never feel its sting.

Riri lives and continues to live, but it was small moments like these that reminded her of how much truly changed after that day. She wonders when she started seeing such simple kindness as pity. When did she start thinking that the warmth of the sun and the pleasantries of the people who walk under it as something to shy away from?

“I’ll think about it,” Riri said, clutching her hands close to her chest.

Mrs. Hamilton nodded curtly, satisfied.

She stepped aside, letting the young lady quietly retreat to the servant quarters.

-

“You know a great deal about stars,” Shuri mused, face resting in the palm of her hand as she leaned on top of the stone gate.

Though she had met with the Groundskeeper to discuss the prediction of a meteor shower in a few years, her attention was fixed elsewhere. It was lost somewhere between the curve of Riri’s lips and the pink of her tongue as she rattled on about whatever came to mind. Despite being socially averse, Riri never failed to find something of interest to converse about. It only made Shuri all that more desperate to seek her out, to listen, to know her every fleeting thought.

Riri flicked to the next page of Shuri’s book. She was perched on top of the stone gate, balanced carefully as she read, “Not as much as you, I presume,” she comments, unaware of the intensity of the Princess’s attention as she examined the pages.

It was a well loved book.

Pages were frayed, with ink notes scrawled in the margins in multiple languages. She couldn’t help but linger on them, undeniably attracted to each slope and curve of the handwriting. If she was honest, she was also envious. She wanted to decipher the pages in its entirety. To have everything laid bare before her to understand. It was a childish craving, a feeling that always arose when she spent time with Shuri.

Shuri has traveled so far, spoken so many languages, met people she couldn’t even fathom meeting. Riri had realized how…small her life was in comparison. Yes, she was envious of the privilege such a life offered, but more-so of those who will be able to live such a life beside Shuri.

“Given a chance, I’m certain you’d outpace my own knowledge easily,” Shuri replied, with little hesitation or humor in her words.

Riri paused at that, chest fluttering-- a sensation she wished to hold tightly before it embarrassed her further. Shuri always made those assumptions, as if her potential was as obvious as the phase of the moon or the rising of the tide.

Riri turned another page abruptly, “What makes you think that,” she said, a bitterness in her tone, “My proficiency at weeding or my affinity to being covered in mud?”

“A feeling,” Shuri said, simply.

“A feeling?” Riri looked up, startled, “You make such bold statements based on feelings? Aren’t you a scientist?”

Shuri nodded, gathering her skirts and raising herself up to sit beside the Groundskeeper, “Sometimes,” she started, a twinkle in her eyes, “The greatest theories start off as feelings," she said, smoothing her skirts, “As learned individuals, we are not divorced from our lived experiences. It is better to acknowledge our innate biases when confronting life’s greater questions, then pretend to be unaffected.”

“How wise,” Riri’s mouth curled, “Still, you cannot have a theory without reason, your Royal Highness,” she teased, “What proves me worthy of being compared to you?”

“You know…” Shuri gave her a side-long glance, feet swinging as she spoke,“When I first arrived at the estate, I saw the strangest contraption in my room,” she mused, “Most lights here rely on the servants to manually adjust them throughout the day, but mine adjusted itself according to the light from my window.”

“Oh isn’t that interesting,” Riri commented with a small frown, she flipped another page, “The God's blessings have no bounds.”

“This wasn’t the work of any God I know,” Shuri said, skeptical, “In fact, I asked around and found out it was an experiment of one of the Groundskeepers. An idea they had heard about and wanted to try themselves.”

“Ah, so they’re a thief,” Riri observed, “Stealing the ideas of men and shamelessly replicating them.”

“It takes quite a mind to steal ideas so easily,” Shuri retorted, “For some, learning without guidance is the greatest difficulty of all.”

Riri closed her eyes briefly, a strange feeling settling over her--far stronger than a flutter of the heart or the turning of her stomach.

“...You don’t think such experiments are silly?” Riri asked quietly, shoulders hunched, “It isn’t as if anything will come of them.”

“I think…that the staff appreciate your efforts,” Shuri says, words washing over her softly, “From what I’ve heard, your experiments have brought ease into their lives. It may not be groundbreaking research, but I doubt any of them would think of you as silly. They think of you as kind.”

Riri exhaled, quelling anxiety breaking apart so easily. Shuri made the world--as big, as scary as it truly was---so simple in such few words. She pulled apart those complicated feelings and laid them bare before her for better observation. A more carefully constructed truth.

“You flatter me as always, Princess,” Riri murmured, turning to another page.

“I only speak the truth,” Shuri drawls, leaning on her shoulder, “I haven’t even begun to flatter you.”

[pretty-trauma]

quick story time ig. When Linus and I dated we had this playlist of songs for each other and one of them was:

Which was one of my favorites and I wanted him to listen to it. He mostly added to the playlist and I would add something once in a while. Anyways a while ago he had a new girlfriend and I literally think he just renamed the playlist we made. ISNT THAT INSANE??? I KNOW YOU GET DAIJA VU or however you spell it. Imagine dating a girl and not even putting in the effort to make her a playlist?? Sometimes it makes me think he still misses me. I really hope he does. I need him to realize what he’s missing out on. Anyways I’ll always remember the moment when I scrolled through the familiar playlist and found the song I ADDED. THATS CRAZY

[hongism]

If you're still doing it 🥺 🌠

MISS DAIJA T-T three things i associate u with are !!! lilac skies, the smell of peppermint tea, and warm hugs 😔💞💘💕💖💗💝

[hongism]

fine i’ll look away this time

so it's simping for minho and seonghwa hours?? 🧐🧐

sorry, why would you ever think such a thing 😌🤷🏽‍♀️

[livinasimminlife]

SimBit Extras #2

Someone needs to dump the dirty clothes water. Little Miss Deja wanted to play with her dollhouse and she wanted to dance to island music. How cute!! 

So I popped into CAS to see the manny. Hakim Gherda. Hakim means “wise and intelligent” in Arabic according to the baby names site. Couldn’t find an exact definition for Gherda, but apparently “Gerda” is a Swiss name that means guardian, peace, and fertility. It’s fitting for a manny. :) 

His traits are high maintenance, commitment phobic, and a daydreamer. Interesting traits. Huh? And his aspiration is Dedicated Environmentalist. I can really appreciate that. Somehow this makes him even more likable. I think that’s something perhaps he can be working toward and he’s saving the money he makes as a babysitter/nanny. 

* High Maintenance is included in Spa Day traits by kutto over on MTS. 

* Daydreamer is a trait included in New Emotional traits by kutto (also MTS).

* Dedicated Environmentalist Aspiration is by ilkavelle (download from Patreon, Google Drive, or SimsFileShare) 

I gave Dad some new glasses that are a darker blue and fit the BitLife glasses a smidge more. 

Fixed mom’s eyes. She is just lovely. It’s sad that she’s so “crazy” according to BitLife and unfortunately, unstable in the Sims game. :’( 

Fixed Little Bit so she has the beautiful tealy blue eyes she has in BitLife. 

The manny can’t stay away. I don’t mind. He’s nice to look at. XD He wanted to hang out with Buddy after work. I thought that was nice, but I wondered if the guy doesn’t have many friends that he’s hanging out with an employer?? 

Sulanian chickens. And glitchy sand?! Haha. 

I’ve never actually seen the flying lava rocks. This is so cool. It’s humongous! 

[geekanoids]

Don't miss my Nacon DAIJA Arcade Stick Review

[hobeemin]

Tinsel & Tae

🎁 Genre: Christmas AU, Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Non Idol AU

🎁 Pairing: Kim Taehyung x (f) Reader

🎁 Rating: pg

🎁 Warning(s): break ups, fainting, crying, Taehyung being the sweetest big brother, lots of fluffy fluffiness

🎁 Word Count: 2k

🎁 Credits: Beta read by the awesome @nightshadevinter​ 💜 you’re the best!!

Banner resources found here (png & photo stock) and here (psd coloring)

🎁 A/N: @cest-la-tae​ Daija!!! I’m your secret Santa 😀😁 I had so much fun getting to know you dear! I hope you enjoy this little fic

Y/N pressed her ear to the phone receiver, brows furrowed. Maybe she heard it wrong. As soon as the message ended, she pressed the prompt to repeat it.

“YN listen, I…uh…I know this is a crappy way to end things, but it’s not working for me, and I believe we want different things. I hope you find someone worth your time. Love you. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

Nope, that’s what she heard. She stared at her phone in disbelief. Really? A break up on Christmas Eve? Her hands shook as she placed the phone into her locker. She put her head inside and screamed into her coat. Her co-worker and close friend, Jungkook, entered the employee break room whistling, setting his bag down, but paused once he saw her head buried in her locker. He watched her curiously.

“Everything okay, Y/N?”

She sniffed, removing her head from inside, and slumped down onto the bench. She rubbed her eyes, trying to fight the tears. “No. Everything sucks.”

He groaned, joining her on the bench. He didn’t like seeing her in this state. He just opened his arms, allowing her in, and she began to sob, wetting his shirt in the process. It surprised her because he wasn’t super emotional, but he was here for her, which made her feel good to know he was supportive.

“He broke up with me on Christmas Eve,” she mumbled into his chest.

Jungkook frowned, shaking his head. “Seriously? That prick. Who breaks up with someone on Christmas. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N hiccupped and grabbed a tissue off the coffee table, wiping her face with a deep sigh. He patted her back gently as he stood. “You’re going to be okay, right? I can ask the boss if you need a replacement.

She shook her head, blowing her nose. “No. No. I need the distraction, but thank you.”

Jungkook smiled at her, tousling her hair, making her swat his hand with a smile, adjusting her hat. “Alright. Let’s get upstairs before we have a riot.”

She chuckled as she looked herself over in the mirror. Y/N smoothed the wrinkles from the bright green dress with red trimming. The bells attached to her dress and matching hat jingled as she turned around, giving herself one last look over. With a nod, she followed Jungkook back out of the breakroom.

***

“Attention holiday shoppers, the mall will be closing in twenty minutes. Please make all purchases at that time. Last call for Santa photos. Have a very Merry Christmas.”

Y/N wanted to jump for joy. At least that was good news. The day was almost over. She stretched, a smile across her face as the flash from the camera went off. With a giggle, she led the child towards their family with a wave. 

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!”

She turned, giving Ben, their department store Santa Claus a sigh.

“Is it me, or does the line seem to be getting longer?”

He and Jungkook laughed at her comment. “It’s just you. Relax, we’ve got only twenty minutes left, and then we’ll be free of these–,” he stopped whispering as another family came up for pictures. “HO HO HO! Merry Christmas! Tinsel, bring some candy canes up!”

“Right away, Santa!” Y/N ran over to the basket and handed one to each kid. “Welcome to Santa’s shop! I’m Tinsel, Santa’s elf in charge!”

Soon the kids posed as Jungkook took a few photos, handing the parents the film with a smile. “Take this over to the booth to pay. Merry Christmas!”

Taehyung held his little sister’s hand as they walked to the middle of the mall. “Hurry, TaeTae! I want to see Santa!”

He chuckled, squeezing her hand as she dragged him along. “Be patient, Soyoung. We’ll get there soon enough.”

Soyoung pouted, tugging his hand. “B-But the store is going to close!”

Taehyung sighed, quickening his steps. “Okay. Okay. I’ll walk faster.” He adjusted the bags in his free hand as they walked faster. They reached the line moments later, standing as he glanced down with her. 

“We made it. Happy now?”

Soyoung nodded with a boxy grin. “Yes!” She bounced up and down. “I have a lot to ask him.”

“Now. Now. Santa is a busy man. Don’t overwhelm him, Soyoung.”

“I won’t, TaeTae.”

***

“Is it me, or is the room getting hotter?” Y/N asked, fanning herself. Jungkook looked up from the camera, shaking his head. “I feel fine.” She sighed, checking her water bottle. Empty. The lights around her only made it hotter to stand. Y/N looked over the line. Only a few families left. She could get through it. Hand out a few more candy canes, take some more pictures, then head home to a large glass of red wine.

Taehyung grinned as they reached the front of the line. “Almost our turn Soyoung!”

She jumped with a giggle. “Yay!”

But as Soyoung stared at the bright lights, decorations, and Santa looming in the large throne, her face paled. She whimpered, trying to hide behind Taehyung.

“I-I don’t want to see him.”

Taehyung’s brows knitted, staring at her. “But you were excited a minute ago.”

She tugged on his coat. “I changed my mind. I don’t wanna see him.”

Taehyung sighed, crouching down to her eye level. “Soyoung–”

Her eyes welled with tears as she began to cry. People began to stare, making Taehyung flustered as he tried to calm her down, but she wailed louder.

Jungkook looked up at the noise and waved at Y/N. “Code blue Christmas!” 

Ben groaned, rubbing his forehead. “This is our last customer. Y/N, take care of it.”

She sighed as she walked over them with a smile, grabbing the basket filled with assorted candy canes. She crouched down by the crying girl and held one out for her.

“Hiya! I’m Tinsel. Are those tears I see?”

Taehyung smiled at Y/N and stood up. “Hi Tinsel,” he brought his sister forward. “This is Soyoung. She’s a little scared to see Santa.”

Y/N smiled at her. “Hi, Soyoung. Why are you scared to see Santa?”

 Soyoung sniffled, drying her eyes. She looked at Taehyung as he nodded for her to talk. “He looks scary.”

“Scary?” Y/N gave her another smile. “Santa is the biggest softie. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Trust me, I know. I work for him.”

“You do?”

“Uh, huh. The reindeer would agree too.”

“I-I don’t know–”

“How about I walk up with you, and we’ll talk to him together. What do you say?”

Soyoung clutched Taehyung’s coat staring at Y/N. “Only if he can come too.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course, your dad can come.”

Taehyung’s cheeks became flushed as Soyoung giggled. “Uh, she’s my little sister.”

Y/N covered her mouth as she got flustered. “Oh, goodness! I’m sorry. I thought–”

He smiled with a boxy grin. “No worries. It happens all the time.”

Y/N held her hand out for Soyoung to take. “Well, Miss Soyoung, let’s see Santa with your big brother.”

Soyoung took Y/N’s hand as shyness took over and walked up the trail to see Santa Claus. Y/N gave Jungkook a nod as if to say, ‘everything is fine’ and stopped in front of Ben.

“Tinsel reporting for duty Santa. I have a new friend who is anxious to see you!”

Ben held his stomach and let out a jolly belly laugh. “Well, hello there!”

Soyoung waved, shuffling her feet. “Hi, Santa.”

“Why don’t you come on up and we can chat?”

The shyness dissipated as she walked closer and stood next to Santa Claus. They chatted animatedly. The smile on her face grew more and more as she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

Taehyung exhaled as he turned to look at Y/N with a smile. “Thank you.”

“It was no trouble,” she answered. “I was happy to help.”

Taehyung stared at her for a moment, blushing. He couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in the elf costume. He wasn’t one to be awkward; in fact, he was pretty confident in most situations, but being in front of her made him a little infatuated.

“Miss Tinsel?”

Y/N was about to speak up just when a wave of dizziness hit her. Everything went black as she fell backward into the side of the North Pole sign.

“Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. As everything began to focus, she could see Ben, Jungkook, Soyoung’s brother and Soyoung standing near her. Y/N tried to stand as Taehyung held his hand up to stop her. “Don’t move; you might have hit your head during your fall.”

“I’m fine,” she said as her cheeks warmed. She hated having them fuss over her. Besides the slight bump she could feel forming, Y/N felt fine. Jungkook glanced at Ben nervously. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Guys, I’m fine. Seriously. I think I’m just dehydrated,” she rambled.

Taehyung shook his head. “We need to be sure.”

Jungkook went off to grab his phone and make the call. Y/N sighed as she still laid on the ground. Taehyung noticed how uncomfortable she looked and helped her up to lean against the stairs. “Santa, can we get her some water?”

Ben nodded as he walked away. Soyoung sat next to them, the worry crossing her face. “Is Tinsel going to be okay?”

“Of course, I am Soyoung. Just felt a little dizzy. Even elves get hurt sometimes,” she reassured the little girl. Soyoung seemed alright with the explanation and sat there in silence. 

Soon enough, Jungkook came back with two EMTs in tow, and Taehyung pulled Soyoung back to give them room. They checked her vitals, stating she was a little overheated and dehydrated. They gave her a sports drink to replenish her electrolytes and told her to take it easy.

Taehyung watched from afar with Soyoung, still concerned. Soyoung glanced from her brother to the elf and pulled on his coat sleeve. “TaeTae?”

“Yes, Soyoung?”

“Do you want to know what I asked Santa for?”

Taehyung peered down at her curiously. “What?”

“I asked for you to meet someone pretty and nice,” she whispered.

Taehyung felt his heartache. “Soyoung–”

“I-I know you get lonely sometimes. I just didn’t want to see you sad anymore.”

Taehyung wrapped his sister in a hug. “You’re the sweetest little sister.” He grabbed her hand and walked over to Y/N. He stopped a few steps away and turned to Soyoung. “Wait here for a moment, okay?”

Soyoung bobbed her head up and down as Taehyung stepped forward.

“Miss Tinsel?”

Y/N sat up from the stretcher as her eyes rounded. He was still here. She wrapped her hair around her ear, having removed the elf hat, and smiled. “Uh, hi there. You can just call me Y/N. Tinsel retired for the night.”

They shared a laugh for a moment. “Well then, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kim Taehyung.” He returned the smile, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Some way to end a shift.”

Y/N nodded in agreement. “I’ll say. My life’s filled with never-ending incidents.”

Visibly nervous, Taehyung scratched his nose. “I don’t usually do this, but...uh, you’re probably the cutest elf I’ve ever met. Um…would you like to go out sometime?”

Y/N, taken aback, stared for a moment. She recovered, feeling a bit bashful. Though the pain of her recent breakup still lingered, she gave him a genuine smile. 

“As much as I’d love to, I just got out of a breakup...more like today, but I wouldn’t say no to getting drinks, maybe coffee?”

Taehyung grinned. It wasn’t a complete rejection, but something. “Of course.” He pulled out his phone as Y/N typed her number into the contacts. He smiled, placing it back into his pocket. “Until then, I wish you a merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Taehyung.”

[hongism]

@cest-la-tae​​ @dee-ehn​​ do you see this shit

so are you doing 100 days of christopher after bacon too or

SDFVNSKDJBVNDFGJBV i’ll do it if i get 20 reblogs on this ask from different people. 

[feliix]

Hey yea, smut asks are fine but I think anon missed the whole point since the conversation was specifically about asks and things that have nothing to do with smut ><

Also you may wanna go back and reread the post cause not once did anyone say it was spoken for everyone. I believe the very first word was "I". You know, singular, personal, referring to one person's feelings. Maybe that'll help you relax 😌

DAIJA AKSDHFJKSJDH ILYSM

I guess I'm just not able to have any opinions! bummer!

[rainbowglittr]

Love and Marriage - Chapter 11 (Mature, Minors DNI)

Description:

After a loss in the family uncovers a family secret, Jaleia and her husband Jesse are forced to balance one family crisis after another along with their budding careers and their plans to expand their family. Will the pressure to keep everyone else together ruin their own relationship? Can ruined relationships be fixed before it’s too late?

tw: brief mention of domestic violence

Chapter 11:

Jaleia's POV

I hung up the phone and sighed. I missed Jesse so much. The house was so quiet and felt so empty with just me. All week long I had been driving myself crazy trying to find things to do. Everybody seemed like they were busy and I was bored out of my mind. I tore the house apart looking for the gifts Jesse said he left me. Just to find one of them in our bedside table. I had reorganized closets and our pantry and basement. I was truly losing it.

Tonight however, I had planned a girl's night at my house. Just a nice sleepover. I hadn't seen most of my friends in a long time. It was SO hard to find a night that we could all meet up but luckily this Friday worked for everyone.

I went into the kitchen to make sure we had enough snacks. I didn't cook anything because we decided to order out. I made sure the wine was chilling and movies were out. Since I was trying to get pregnant, I wasn't drinking and went with the fake sparkling juices. It was going to be such a relaxing night. I pulled out my spa kit. It was really just a big container where I kept all my nail, hair, facial stuff for this kind of thing.

I heard the doorbell ring. I looked at our tablet and Saw Kiara at the door with a bag. I ran to the door.

"Hey, how ya doin?" I said, wrapping her in a hug.

"Hey, Sis. I brought some snacks and wine."

"Aww thanks, you didn't have to, trust me I didn't have anything better to do. I told you I was gonna get you to do a sleepover. "

"Yeah, yeah. You're lucky. So what we doing?" She said ad we walked to the kitchen.

"I'm putting everything downstairs in the basement so we'll have more room. Our couch could only fit like four people but the basement should be good."

"You want help?"

"If you don't mind. I knew you would be first to get here."

"I think it's about time one of us is on time. Who's coming?" She said as we grabbed some trays of snacks and wine and brought it downstairs.

"The squad. You, Mariah, Monique, and Daija. Y'all do not understand how much I needed this, I was losing my shit." I said putting down all the stuff on the table in the basement.

"Aww, you missing your boo?"

"Hell yeah! We haven't been apart this long for like a year."

"Y'all so cute!"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"I love your bracelet, Jay! Where did you get it?" Mariah said.

We all were sitting on the sofa talking and snacking through our first movie Beauty Shop. We had just ordered food and of course we all couldn't agree on the same thing so we ordered from three different places.

"Thanks, My hubby got it for me." I said. I was wearing the tennis bracelet Jesse had bought for me. I was in love with it.

"Girl, let me see that. Damn that is SEVERAL karats of sparkle." Monique said as I held my wrist out.

"He knows I got expensive tastes." I said.

"No kidding, girl." Daija said.

"It's gorgeous!" Mariah said

"Now let me ask something, how the hell is it that you and Mariah hated each other?" Monique said.

"I was a bitch back then. A huge bitch. I used to do all sorts of crazy shit back then. I'm the reason why her husband and my baby daddy don't speak to this day. I was horrible." Mariah said. While we were in school Mariah caused a fight between Jesse and my old best friend Tyler. Even after the fight when they made up she did everything she could to keep them apart. Then Jess caught Tyler talking trash about him, which Mariah wanted. They were never cool after that.

"To be fair, we didn't know you were going through all that you were at the time. Tou were going through a lot of shit back then and I'm glad you told us. Because I'm not gonna lie I just thought you were an evil bitch for no reason." I said.

"Yeah, a lot of people did but I just didn't know how to deal with that shit." She said. She looked at Monique and Daija's confused expressions and explained.

"My parents had divorced when I was in middle school. My freshman year my mom married some fucking bastard. He used to beat her, they fought a lot. He didn't care about me, barely acknowledged my existence. My mom made me not tell my dad when I would visit him. It was horrible. When I had Eli, I moved in with my dad. I was so much better."

"I'm so sorry about that. " Mo said.

"It fucked me up for a while, but now, after a shit ton of therapy. I'm okay talking about it. Now to lighten the heavy ass mood, who wants some wine?" Mariah said, getting up and getting a glass.

"Me!" Everyone but me said.

"Jaleia, you don't want wine? That shit is your favorite?" Daija said. I laughed because they all looked shocked.

"Why y'all looking at me like I'm some sort of damn alcoholic? I'm not gonna drink tonight. "

"Are you on another one of those cleanses?" Mo asked.

"No."

"Then spill." Kiara said.

"Well, we haven't exactly told anyone yet, but me and Jesse are trying for a baby. I'm not supposed to drink while we're trying." I said. They all hugged me.

"Congrats in advance!" Mariah said. I laughed.

"I'm going to be an Aunt!" Kiara said.

"Well I'm not pregnant yet."

"But you will be. I know y'all be getting it in!" Daija said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said, grabbing a glass of the sparkling juice.

"It means, we know why you miss your man so much." Mo said. My mouth dropped as I looked at all of them.

"You know what I deserve an amazing sex life! The first couple years were not great."

"Really?"

"We were always so busy. I was still in my residency, he was flying out to L.A every other weekend. We had sex maybe once or twice a month. Trust, it's come a long way from then."

They all gasped. And then started laughing.

"Damn, you suffered." Mo said.

"Its not funny. It's much better now. We're less busy now. It feels like we're in our first year again. Seriously! Oh like yours is so great!" I said.

"I don't need mine to be that good. I have enough kids by men I ain't married to." Mariah said. She had a ten year old son, Elijah with Tyler in high school. She had a five year old girl, Avani with her current boyfriend.

"Girl, it's okay. Them babies are adorable."

"Look my man had my back all the way blown out, I mean-" Monique said.

"Okay, okay enough! He gives it to you great."

"What? I'm not ashamed. He's great. At least I didn't scar his little sister for life." Mo said. They all started laughing.

"That is the LAST time I tell you heifers anything. I thought he locked the door!" I said as they laughed harder. I crossed my arms.

"Aw honey, it's not that embarrassing."

"Yeah one time, the guy I was dating. His mom almost walked in on us. I don't know what made her change her mind but she should be glad she did cause we, we were doing some wild shit." Daija said.

"I knew you were the freaky one."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

We had ate, blown up the air mattresses, and were just sitting around. As I sat there it suddenly occurred to me that maybe I didn't think the one shower, five women thing through. But tomorrow was Saturday so it wasn't like anyone would be in a hurry to get up in the morning. Having all the girls here really felt good. We haven't been together, like all of us for a while. It was nice to just be able to chill with each other.

We played music and danced. We pretty much made complete asses of ourselves because most of us were tipsy. There were a couple of questionable things uploaded to social media that night.

We all were laying down at this point either on the couch or the two air mattresses. Mariah and Daija had fallen asleep a while ago.

"I love you guys." I said before turning over to sleep.

"Love you too sis." Several tired voices responded.

[blkgirlsinthefuture]

Glass Ceilings and Exploitation: A Collection of Thoughts

I really enjoyed reading Ironheart this week. I’m a fan of graphic novels and comics because of their ability to take the story to a whole new level and further enrich the dialogue. There were a couple of things that popped out at me while reading so this blog post is a conglomeration of all of those thoughts.

In the beginning pages of the comic, Riri talks about how she “wasn’t meant fly”, speaking specifically on the fate of those who come where she’s from. This was probably some of the survivor’s guilt that she may have after the death of her father and her best friend to gun violence. I thought of her flight as a means of being able to overcome her situation (“getting out of the hood”) and achieve things that people from her neighborhood could only dream of. In the end she says, “…eventually, I have to come right back down to Earth.” As I kept reading about Riri, I began to make the connection between this feeling of flying and coming back down Earth and the established roots that she has that keep bringing her back to Earth. This idea of a person’s roots reminded me of Legendborn and how Bree’s familial roots helped shape who she is and her destiny of being Arthur’s Scion. Riri’s roots shape her and her decision to become Ironheart. Her roots appear to provide her the launching pad to fly and possibly help others fly too but it could also place a “glass ceiling” on how high she can go.

Upon the news of Daija going missing and there being little to no information on what might’ve happened to her, Riri comes straight back to her neighborhood to investigate. She discovers that Daija got had got entangled in the operations of a crooked politician and a group of villains. She then stops some thugs who had tried to extort her local corner store, resulting in her taking some serious damage. I could see even more of a connection with Legendborn and Ironheart in terms of how one’s roots can come with responsibilities, obligations, and duties whether they’re unwanted or not. Riri feels obligated to fight because if she doesn’t, no one will. She puts herself in danger for the sake of others. You can only fly so high when your roots hold you down. On the other side of the coin, her roots are her support system and what inspired her to create the suit. Xavier and her mom make a point to make sure she’s taking care of herself and not locking herself away from the world. Her mom tries to convince to even attend a support group with her so that she can get even more support. Without her roots, Riri would definitely lose herself in the world of superheroes.

Riri’s interactions with Dean Bryant really bothered me even though their interactions were limited. The interaction really spoke to the exploitation of black bodies for their work. Black people are responsible for the creation of an array of items that we couldn’t live like we do without. One specific example is the creation of Jack Daniels. It was Nathan “Nearst” Green who taught Jack Daniels a special brewing technique that gives the whisky its signature flavor. It wasn’t until centuries later that the company admitted its true history. I watch Riri create these amazing designs in the lab at MIT but it’s clear that they want her ideas and her labor and have no regard for her person. People parade in and out of her lab and she’s expected by Dean Bryant smile and act like a puppet for the guests. She stands in the room while people are in awe of her work like she’s nothing more than an inanimate object. Riri definitely struggles with having access to so many resources but knowing her work was not really her own if she utilized those resources. Being able to get her own space to create without any interruptions will give Riri the space she needs to soar.

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

Of Dreams and Memory Zestiria // AtlA AU // Oneshot #9

[Read on AO3]

As the gang begins to infiltrate the Fire Nation in order to save Muse, surprising revelations come to light.

tw // mentions of physical abuse

- o - o - o -

A frantic gasp shatters the silence of the fire prince’s bedchamber. Prince Sergei’s arms shake behind him, sweat beading along his brow. His chest rises and falls with every breath, entirely too warm even without a shirt to cover it; his blanket pools around his hips, also entirely too much. Instinct makes him kick his feet over the side of his bed, shoving his covers aside. His eyes dart through the shadows, but in the night, everything is still and calm. Tranquil. His balcony doors are still shut and bolted. The long curtains don’t rustle. 

With a withering sigh, he hides his face in his hands.

“Just a dream,” he lies to himself. “Nothing more. No need to lose yourself over this, Sergei.”

The past is meant to remain in the past.

…and yet. 

He can still recall with perfect clarity the twist of his stomach at a singular raised hand twelve years ago. Admittedly, the imprint the image had left on him has always struck him as strange. Why does such a thing affect him when he himself had fallen under the shadow of that hand so many times?

Maybe it was his tears, he thinks. Or perhaps it took finally seeing it happen to someone else to awake in me—something like empathy.

Ironic, Sergei thinks, as he uncurls and tilts back his head to his ceiling. 

The canopy above his bed is the same as it has always been for so many years.

“I haven’t had that dream in a decade,” Sergei murmurs. Which leaves one more important question, as tangible as the sweat he can feel beading down his temple. It draws a thin line down from his brow to his neck. 

Why now?

- o - o - o -

“Do I have to?” 

Dezel’s stance doesn’t change in the slightest. His extended hand remains pressed against Sorey’s chest, frown firm on his face. 

Finally, with a heavy sigh, Sorey caves. He reaches up to his ears. “But I like them.”

“And right now, those feather earrings are one of your biggest identifying factors,” Mikleo huffs. His arms cross over his chest and watches as the earrings pass from Sorey’s hands to Dezel’s. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t fall until Dezel finally pockets the earrings in Gramps’ travel bag. “If we actually want to sneak through the Fire Nation, then we need to make sure there’s no possible way anyone will recognize you. Now, for your hair.”

“First Atakk, then my earrings—now I have to take off my hair, too?!”

Mikleo rolls his eyes and play-punches Sorey’s arm. He fights the smile that wants to crawl on his face at the teasing and all-too-telling grin on Sorey’s face. “No. Idiot. We’re just wrapping your head. Word is spreading about your crazy hair. This scarf should do the trick.”

Sorey grins. “Should I be flattered? Ah, what the heck.” With one final sigh, he bows, head shoved towards Mikleo’s chest. “Might as well get it over with. Want to do me the honors?”

“I suppose.”

- o - o - o -

When Lailah hears dusty footsteps behind her, she turns and gasps widely, happily. “Why, Sorey! You’re hardly recognizable!” 

“Well, I think you’re being nice, but thanks anyway!” Sorey grins cheekily. For good measure, he gives a spin. The small tail of his yellow scarf, peeking out from where it’s tucked in at the nape of his neck, bounces with the rock of his weight. “How do I look?”

“Like a true citizen of the Fire Nation!” she hums and claps her hands together.

Sorey laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, you think so…?”

Lailah nods. “All of you do!”

Dezel hums and brings up the rear of their party. When he holds out Zenrus’ bag, Sorey takes it and loops it over his head gratefully. Of all, Dezel seems the most uncomfortable in the reds and deep blacks and browns of the Fire Nation jacket and pants hanging loose around his figure. “Then let us reunite with the Sparrowfeathers as quickly as possible. We should thank them for procuring us these garbs.”

Sorey looks up at Dezel, both hands wrapped around the bag strap. “You think Rose and Eguille made it into the palace okay?”

“They’re professionals, Sorey.”

“Yeah, and I know you said that before, but I still don’t fully get how that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

“It means,” Dezel hums and walks past Sorey and out of the alleyway into the street. “That it should have been obvious to you long ago that selling imports isn’t the only business the Sparrowfeathers partake in.”

Sorey still doesn’t know what to make of that. 

Before he can follow his teacher out onto the street, Lailah puts a hand on his shoulder. “Sorey—listen. There’s one last thing we have to take care of before we depart. We need to change our names.”

Sorey’s eyes widen. “Everyone’s names?”

“W-well, most of the others should be fine, actually!” There’s a falter in Lailah’s voice Sorey hasn’t heard before, a hitch in speech that twists Sorey’s stomach and zeroes his attention on her, wondering if there’s something in her words he missed that he should have paid attention to. Something he should understand or know but doesn’t. “Rose and the others are from the Fire Nation already. Their names are fine. Mikleo and Dezel aren’t too obvious detractors. But you and I…well, just to be safe, we should call each other by different names until we’re out of the Fire Nation.”

“Really?” Sorey frowns. “Why? Do so many people know the Avatar’s name already…?”

“W-well—it’s—it’s just in case! You know? A precautionary measure. Yes!” 

And there it is again. That wobbly uncertainty.

Sorey watches Lailah for a long moment. Lailah has always been difficult to read, always smiling even in situations when Sorey isn’t entirely certain she should smile. When finally he nods, he doesn’t miss the relieved sigh that slips out of her. 

“Okay, so, we’ll go with something simple,” Lailah says, “There are many good names out there, so I’ll let you decide which one you want to use while we’re here…”

- o - o - o -

Boris doesn’t anticipate finding Sergei staring off into space at the window when he first walks in the crown prince’s quarters. At first, he turns around to duck his head out into the hall to make sure he’s walked into the right room before he turns around and observes his brother’s dazed profile. 

Huh.

Perhaps he can capitalize on this.

“Looks like someone still needs sleep,” Boris begins and clasps his arms behind his back, striding forward with long, lazy steps.

Sergei blinks, jumps, and turns. The instant he sees Boris, however, whatever fright had tensed his figure just as quickly slips away. He pinches the bridge of his nose and makes a sound low in his throat. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me?” Boris scoffs and places a hand over his chest. He staggers back a step. “Ugh! You wound me, brother.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Boris laughs, but when Sergei doesn’t join in, the smile fades. He strides closer to slap a hand over Sergei’s shoulder. “Wow. You’re out of it. What, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed?” 

“You could say that.”

Sergei’s voice is a quiet murmur. 

It reminds Boris faintly of a barren desert. Dry and wistful, waiting for the slightest chance of rain. What a morbid comparison, he can’t help but think: to compare his brother to a lifeless ground. Boris shakes his head and squeezes Sergei’s shoulder instead. “Well, I can tell something is troubling you.”

“Of course it is,” Sergei mutters. “There’s always a great many number of things troubling me.”

Boris rolls his eyes. “Now who’s being dramatic?”

“I simply—” 

It’s not the first time that Boris has seen Sergei’s eyes mist over. Sergei, for all of his stiff manners and rigid posture, has always had the more tender, weepy heart. He cries much more easily than his twin.

But it is the quickness of it, the suddenness of those wet eyes, that draws Boris up short.

“—he’s out there, Boris,” Sergei whispers tightly. “We know this, now. We know he is there. Somewhere. After all this time…and I had every opportunity to hold him again and lost it. How can such a thing make me as happy as much as it hurts me?”

Boris doesn’t need to ask who.

“Do you think he will ever know?”

He squeezes Sergei’s shoulder again. “I can’t say, brother.”

Boris doesn’t know what to make of the silence that follows. Is it mournful? Hopeful? Expectant? Or is it something else entirely?

- o - o - o -

“S—Daija! Hey! Don’t run ahead so fast!”

Sorey grins and spins around. “Ah-ah-ah! You almost slipped, Mikleo!”

“No thanks to you!” Mikleo scowls. “What are you doing, running around like you own the marketplace?”

“There’s food to eat, Mikleo! I’m starving! Plus, I haven’t had any of this stuff in like, ages, so I’m super excited to eat it again.” Sorey’s hands are tight around the bag strap over his shoulder. He’s practically running in place as he waits for Mikleo, Lailah, and Dezel to catch up. “Besides, what else are we supposed to do while we wait for Rose and Eguille? I remember there used to be these delicious roasted komodo chicken kabobs with lots of different veggies between ‘em—I don’t even remember what they were! But they were so good! I wonder if we can find some…” 

Mikleo’s face tightens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Sorey continues breezily. He splays a hand out, looking around at the food stalls they pass by, where fruit of various sizes and shapes sit on display. There’s a salty, savory smell in the air and Sorey breathes his lungs full of it. “Man! I haven’t eaten some of this stuff in ten years! This takes me back!”

Mikleo bites his lip. Idly, he scratches at one arm with the fingers of his opposite hand. “It does, huh…?” He catches sight of the palace walls, further down the marketplace. 

Above their heads, giant banners dangle in the air, red and gleaming. Their golden trim catches the light, framing the illustriously painted silhouette of a bearded, fire-crowned man who Mikleo has no doubt is Fire Lord Heldalf himself.

And with that face literally hanging over us, still he smiles?

“Is that…a good thing?” Mikleo hedges.

Sorey jerks around. His green eyes stretch wide.  “Huh?”

Suddenly, it’s very hard for Mikleo to meet those eyes. He crosses his arms around his middle. “I mean…you never…”

What am I trying to say here?

“You never talked a lot about what life was like for you in the Fire Nation before you and Gramps came to the South Pole. So I guess I always thought you hated it. Or you didn’t remember it.” And maybe, some part of a very young and impressionable Mikleo had enjoyed being able to be part of a positive change in a friend’s life and took pride, even, in the possibility that his home was the better home for Sorey. “Was I wrong?”

“What?” Sorey blinks and shakes his head quickly. “No! I—”

Sharply, Sorey looks away, too.

Mikleo watches him for a long moment. His chest twinges. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” Sorey shrugs but there’s something in his eyes that is far-away as if trying to recall something that he’s long forgotten. “I don’t remember everything, but what I do remember from over ten years ago isn’t…that great. I guess I just didn’t want to think about those parts. Y’know?”

Mikleo steps closer. He squeezes Sorey’s hand. “Yeah.”

Sorey smiles.

Mikleo tilts his head. “So…can I ask…?”  

“Ask what?”

“About what you do remember?” 

Sorey hitches a breath and looks away. “Uh—well, I—”  

“It’s the Fire Lord!”

“Fire Lord Heldalf!”

“He’s coming!”

Sharply, immediately, a commotion breaks out further down the street. Sorey and Mikleo share one look and jerk back as a procession clears the way, quick to hide behind the thinning edge of the crowd as a palanquin approaches. Mikleo holds tight to Sorey, as an ornate, golden palanquin is carried down the center of the street. 

It’s plush, regal. Upholstered with only the finest satin and cotton. The heavy, dark curtains are pulled back with golden ropes, and through the posts, and holes in the honeycomb half-walls, the stern, wide profile of the Fire Lord can be seen, his thick, dark beard curling over his chest. 

“Make way for Fire Lord Heldalf!” the attendants ahead of the palanquin shout, their backs straight and rigid, arms extended.

“Daija!” Lailah’s voice calls from far away, a worried note in her pitch.

Oh.

Time might have stopped.

Maybe it did.

About what you do remember, Mikleo had asked.

“I—” 

The Fire Lord doesn’t glance at them. Nothing in his stern countenance shifts as his palanquin is carried by. The frown on his square face doesn’t budge; his eyes stare at nothing. Perhaps they are nothing to him; all of them. 

But for just a moment, he is closer than he has been in ten years.

And it is enough.

Mikleo squeezes his hand. “Daija?”

The palanquin has passed.

Sorey blinks once, twice, and thinks he can remember plenty. “I know that face.”

“What?”

“I know—” 

A raised voice out of an angry face. There were always so many lines digging into the skin high above the man’s brow and around his mouth. It had always looked as if his face had been distorted, every time he would spit, No true son of mine would ever turn out to be a lowly nonbender—and it hurt, it hurt, so much that all Sorey could think of at the time to say over and over again, prostrating himself, was, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Dad—

“Bergs!” 

Sorey stumbles back.

Mikleo clasps his hands around his arms, eyes wide. A pale moonface flooding his vision. “So—Daija! Are you okay?! What’s wrong?” 

Sorey raises his eyes. Immediately, Lailah and Dezel are there, squeezing closer through the massive press of people around them. Her hands flutter towards him first before threading together in front of her stomach, shaking. Her fingers are clutched so tightly, her skin burns a brighter, pallid white.

“I think…” the Fire Sage says quietly and slowly, “…we should find a place to sit.”

- o - o - o -

The door opens with a creak, loud enough to break Sergei out of his reverie. He lifts his head from his fist as a young soldier strides in and respectfully bows. His eyes dart down to the reports and maps scattered across the table in front of him that he hasn’t been paying attention to all morning. 

What will Father say when he knows what little work I’ve managed to finish?

With a tight wince, Sergei rubs his forehead.

The soldier remains bowed even as her voice—unfamiliar to him—rings out: “A message for you, Crown Prince.”

“Oh?” Sergei waves her forward. “I won’t ask who it’s from. It’s undoubtedly Father again with another matter he wants me to address while he’s out. Bring it here, then.”

As she steps forward with the scroll held out, Sergei takes a glance up and takes in the strange, unfitting way the uniform falls over the young woman’s form. She’s short; the armor looks like it would have fit better on someone two sizes taller. 

“Are you a new recruit?” he asks as he takes the extended scroll.

The soldier ducks her head. “Yes. I’ve not yet been in the service for two weeks, your highness.”

“Mm.” Sergei nods. That explains it. His fingers catch on the edge of the scroll as he begins to distractedly unroll it. “When you can, inform your superior officer that the Crown Prince approves of you being fitted for more comfortable armor. I’d hate for you to be encumbered thusly by ill-fitting attire and unable to perform your duties.”

“Oh—” The soldier flounders for a second, her mouth flapping uselessly. Not for the first time, Sergei finds he hates the Fire Nation helmets that obscure half of every soldier’s face. A strand of red hair tickles her cheek, peeking out beneath the cover of her helmet. “Thank you, sir.”

Sergei nods and lifts a hand. “Dismissed.”

For a woman wearing armor much too large for her, she does not haste in making her departure. 

The scroll unrolls quickly in Sergei’s hands. His eyes fall upon the end first—a habit he has always had since he was a child, eager to see who sent the message before reading its contents—but as soon as he sees the name Sorey in scratchy, misshapen letters, inked at the bottom, he freezes.

He jerks up so fast, his knees catching on the edge of his table, nearly upending it and spilling papers and figures and quills to the floor. With little care for anything that has fallen, Sergei launches himself to the door and opens it wide.

“Wait!” he shouts into the hallway.

Only the men already standing guard jerk to attention.

Even when they search the entire palace, the redheaded soldier with the too-big armor is nowhere to be seen. 

- o - o - o -

Sorey sits on a large wooden shipping box, his back to a stone wall, holding his face in his hands. He hasn’t moved for several moments, bent and silent. Mikleo hovers at his shoulder, violet eyes traveling over the other faces of their small party as they wait. For a moment, he wonders if he’s the only one who missed what had transpired on the street. Lailah and Dezel’s faces both are unreadable: Lailah’s pinched and Dezel’s frowning.

“Are…you all right, Sorey?” Mikleo murmurs.

Sorey sighs tightly. 

“You remember now, don’t you?” Lailah says quietly. 

Sorey doesn’t answer. 

“I must admit, when I first met you, I had thought it strange you acted like you didn’t know at all, but…I don’t know. I figured you were young. Perhaps you forgot. Memory can be a fickle thing.”

“Remember what?” Mikleo asks. “What is it he’s supposed to remember?”

Finally, for the first time in several minutes, he speaks—and when he does, it’s defeated. Quiet. “That I’m a Fire Prince.”

Mikleo freezes. “You…” He spins on Sorey, body numb. “Wait, what?”

Sorey’s fingers press hard into his eyes before his hands fall.

This time, when he says it, he meets Mikleo’s gaze head on. “I’m a Fire Prince, Mikleo. Crown Prince Sergei and Fire Prince Boris, they’re my brothers. And Fire Lord Heldalf…I…he’s…he’s my father.” 

[hongism]

How about Taehyung, Yeosang, and Hyunjin?? I suffer daily 😔

yeosang ➙ taehyung ➙ hyunjin

miss daija was it MFING NECESSARY!?!? 😃😃 this hurt. badly. it hurt. im HURT!

send me your top 3 biases and i'll list them in my order of preference

[hongism]

HEY I BREATHED WHY YOU GOTTA DO ME DIRTY LIKE THIS 😠😠😠

caly?? calypso??? @hyyunjins????

sorry, I don't know them 🤷🏽‍♀️

[livinasimminlife]

SimBit Extras

I started a brand new (just for fun) series over on my LASL blog. 

I’ll let you read the intro post if you’d like if you haven’t already. This will be a BitLife Controls My Sims challenge, where I’ll be using the Sims 4 to visually recreate the life of my bit in the text-based life simulator game for Android and IOS, BitLife. This will be a slice of life commentary story, very different from my normal fare. The story will feature Miss Daija Bleu and her family as she lives her life in Sulani. Keep reading below to see extras/outtakes from my most recent gameplay. I’m calling these... SimBit extras. 

After the toddlers are settled in bed, mom and dad come out to the living room to have a conversation.

"Can you believe this weather we're having?" Isadora exclaims.

"What?" Buddy shrugs and waves his hands. "It's monsoon season. This is normal."

"I just hope the kids sleep," Isadora sighs.

Mom rolls a whim to watch World Culture Network. A special program on the sim'jinn is playing. Will Mom get her wish and have a peaceful evening?

Nope! Little Bit... a.k.a. Daija... climbs out of bed, changes back into daytime clothes, and proceeds to babble on the couch with mom. Both seem happy.

Hold the phone! Who's in our house at 4:30 in the morning? I swear, my Sims never sleep. 

Okay, turns out this is Hakim, the nanny. I don't recall hiring a nanny/babysitter because we certainly can't afford it but...

Oh my! It's delightful to see you too! 😊

He posed for the camera. This is one good looking nanny. A model manny even! 

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Lia comes by for a visit (at five am). Island life starts early. She is friends with Mom. You can’t just sit on the toddler, Lia! Game glitch. 

Who left a perfectly good grilled cheese sandwich on the low wall? It’s annoying how Sims put food and dirty dishes in weird places. 

Manny... I mean... Hakim, picks up Jahni, who is (unsurprisingly) crying and wants attention. Hakim feeds Jahni, reads him a story, and plays with him while Mom researches vampire information on the internet. 

Get a lotta vampires in Sulani, eh? I think not. All that killer sunshine! 

Guess I have to eat my words. Look who showed up later that evening. Oh Vlad!

[jamaisjoons]

hi I'm more of a whore for love than I am for Taehyung 🥺🌹

MISS DAIJA, you are so wonderfully sweet and supportive and honestly, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met EVEN THOUGH YOU CALL ME OUT AND THINK I COULDN’T PIN KIM SEOKJIN DOWN AND I DEFINITELY COULD but anyway, I’m really happy you joined fwl and that we got to speaking on the server. I really do appreciate your friendship JUST NOT THE CALL OUT POSTS OKAY, you’re wonderful and loving and just so s w e e t okay thank you

If we’re mutuals send me a 🌹and I’ll tell you what I love about you~