#no hate to mm simmers

[nyrarachelle-plays]

On His Own...

Roger’s actually returned back to their home lot and hopped in the shower himself, not too long after I left him at the venue with his fam bam! I imagine he's busy telling Krystle about the rest of the Knight's Night out and she's just sitting there, still staring into nothingness like this...

In contrast, by the look on his face, he's just feeling so happy by the end of this day!

Previously. (So...) | Next. (Still On a High...)

[princessbrunette]

when lamb!reader had suggested a video call with jj instead of hanging out at her house, it felt simply preventative. she’d been having urges lately, feelings — ones she’s not used to feeling. sometimes when she was around jj, it was like her body had a brain of its own. an unholy and disgraceful brain that went against what she thought she was wishing. she was beginning to believe if they were to hang out in person one on one, she might act out of impulse to sate the desire that had built inside her.

you’d been feeling this way since he’d gifted you that stuffed lamb. he was technically just a friend, no different from the other pogues you’d been hanging out with since trying to find your feet in the obx — but there was a different sort of simmering tension you felt with him and only him. what started as annoying teasing and jabs became warm fluttering in your stomach and unholy thoughts about his hands and mouth. it was like he knew it too, jj always seemed to have this look in his eye, a curl to the corner of his mouth — like there was something about you on the tip of his tongue that he was withholding. it made you want to set yourself alight.

as the call sound rings on your screen, you ponder why you’d made your hair all pretty, and why you’d chosen your best white nightgown. it felt and looked innocent at best, but as much as you’d hate to admit it — the fact there was nothing beneath gave you a rush like no other.

your thoughts were interrupted by his handsome face on your screen.

“fancy seeing you here, lamb chop.” he smirks, that same knowing look in his eye that he always had. without thinking you fiddle with your cross necklace.

“didnt i tell you to stop calling me that?” you respond, feeling as though you hid the hitch in your throat pretty well.

“and why would i listen to you?” he jokes, shuffling in his desk chair — bedroom a mess in his background. you’re about to comment on it, tell him to tidy it on instinct to nag him but he speaks first. “lookin’ real good tonight. you get all pretty for me?”

something about the way he asks that sends heat to your lower regions, something that felt forbidden and wrong and yet addicting.

“i’m just wearing what i sleep in. i figured id check in with you before i get some rest.” it’s an attempt at sounding casual, something you’d clearly applied much time and thought to.

“you wear that to sleep? pan down for me real quick?” you hear him shuffle closer to the screen like he was really trying to get a good look, and without thinking you obey — showing him the white lace of your night gown, from the straps to the way it falls on your upper thigh. he chuckles with a quiet “mm.” sound, and you’re panning back to your face quickly — glancing subconsciously at the door, wondering what your mother might say if she saw you showing your night gown to a boy.

“thats real pretty lil lamb. like you.” you hate how smooth he was, how every compliment had heat rushing to your centre.

“no need to flatter me.” you shrug a shoulder, and he doesn’t miss the way your tits jostle a little at the movement. he even leans on his elbows at his desk, eyes pointed downward unabashedly.

“right, right so… little limbrey… talk me through your night time routine. i wanna step into your shoes for a lil bit.” he settles, always insanely good at making conversation from nothing. you purse your lips in thought, looking around your room.

“well… i showered, changed, and usually before bed i do something stimulating but relaxing to get me ready to sleep and tire me out.” you list, staring at the book going unread on your bedside table. he huffs a laugh through a smirk and his brows shoot up.

“oh yeah? you stimulate yourself? tell me more ‘bout that.” he jokes and you furrow your brows, adorably in his opinion.

“what do you mean?” you question and jj licks his lips, trying to hold himself back from laughing anymore but failing miserably.

“ah, i’m just playin’ with you babydoll— carry on.” he waves a hand but you’re curious now. perhaps you sensed there was some innuendo behind it, but you pushed anyway— your inner excitement getting the better of you. you shift on your bed to lay on your side, getting more comfortable.

“i wanna laugh too, tell me what it means?” you pout grumpily which makes him relent instantly.

“nah… i was just makin’ a joke about… you know… you playin’ with yourself. ‘lotta people do that before they sleep.” he dismisses, and usually you’d scold him or make a face — but tonight, you’re not sure what possesses you — you ask,

“do you?”

jj blinks in surprise at the question for a second.

“do…uh, well,” he coughs awkwardly and you already regret asking. you cast your eyes downwards. “yeah, i do. you don’t ever… indulge?”

you’re quick to shake your head, though you’re lying. you’ve tried a few times.

“its a sin.” the words are instinctual when they leave you, and it only deepens jj’s amused expression that forms once more across his handsome features.

“yeah uh, no shit honey. you gotta release sometimes though right? s’better that way… keeps the sinful activities at bay so you don’t go out n’make bad choices. preventative procedures n’all that shit.” he converses, scratching his temple — a habit you’d pick up on when he’s a tad nervous or apprehensive.

you’d never thought of it that way before, so you take a moment to stare into space — a rush of relief coming over you. he was right. it had to be better than going and sleeping around, surely.

“wow, that’s… uncharacteristically insightful.”

“i’on know what that means—”

“you’re right. i don’t feel so bad anymore.” you chime, looking rather elated. his smile returns and he tilts his head.

“yeah? so you do indulge?” he drags it out, like he wants to tease you but he doesn’t wanna push too hard and shut you down again. you bite your lip, mulling over his question.

“m’not great at it, but yes.” you try to remain prideful, sticking your nose up a little.

“comes with practice i guess. i’mma beat around the bush here — i’d say i know my way around lady parts pretty good so like, if you ever need any pointers… on how to… y’know, suppress your urges… i got’chu.” he tries to sound nonchalant, careful, even shrugs for added effect. what he doesn’t see, is your hand reaching blindly to your bedside table and turning the framed image of Jesus to be face down.

twenty minutes later, and you’re hot in the face with your back propped up against a load of frilly, fluffed pillows. the laptop sits between your spread legs, displaying your open glossy cunt centre screen, your fingers stroking circles over your throbbing bud as you try to suppress your whimpers.

“uh-huh, juuuuuust like that. you wanna try rubbin’ it up and down? or do you wanna stick to the whole circle thing.” beneath his desk, jj slowly rolls his fist over his cock. he felt kinda weird about it, but he didn’t wanna alert you to the fact he was helping himself too— thinking it might freak you out and make you call it a night.

“‘like it like this!” you squeak, being mindful of your volume. you knew the pain meds had likely knocked your mother out clean by now, but you could never be too careful. you buck your hips against your hand, and even through the quality of the video call jj can see the arousal pooling between your spread legs. you had no idea how needy you could be.

“god damn, mama— you needed this, huh?” he chuckles, but it’s kind and he’s not teasing, infact there’s a softness to it. an affection.

“mhmmm.” you release in a whine, and jj is thrilled. he loved that he got you like this, letting go of all your beliefs for a while, forgetting it all because your head is so hazy with pleasure.

“keep rubbing just like that, yeah? just like i’d do it.” he mutters the last part, but he knows you hear it when your eyes flutter open, hand slowing. shit. he didn’t want you to come to your senses about just how sinful this whole thing was— he was barely teaching anymore, more so talking you through it.

his eyes widen a tad and his own hand freezes. “shit, uh— sorry ‘bout that. that’s my bad, i got carried away.”

in a whisper, with furrowed brows like it pained your very being to ask, you come forth with “keep talking like that.”

it stuns him for a few second, and his thumb swipes over his tip again. “wait… for real?”

“unfortunately it’s…mmph— it’s the only thing that’s gonna get me there. i’m tired, jj… i just wanna… i wanna—”

“cum?” he tries to stop the grin by pressing his tongue to the corner of his mouth, and his expression softens when he sees the way you melt, more arousal dribbling from you.

“yeah.” you groan, causing jj to pout in faux sympathy.

“yeah? i got you mama. keep strokin’ that pretty thing. i’mma tell you right now, you’re missin’ out on this tongue. i could make you feel things you never thought you could feel. would make you cream so hard you’d have tears down them pretty cheeks. that what you wanna hear, lil lamb?”

“oh… oh god!” your toes clench, everything clenches.

“nah baby, it ain’t god. s’just me.”

[rafescherry]

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18+ 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ; your man, simon ‘ghost’ riley was the classic bad boy — with his black motorcycle and hot, leather jacket. but he was also a possessive fucking boyfriend. (much to your delight) his angels showing a little to much skin? his motorcycle comes in extra handy.. bending you over the god damn seat. especially as he picked you up from your spoiled girls night out, filled with wine, dancing and some giddy chatting.. and yet it ended even better.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; toxic possessiveness, dubcon, sexual suggestions, degradation

♱ —

──────────────────────────────

you looked 𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

simon had to grind his teeth just watching you walk towards him from that little sleek club. he knew every man’s eye was on you, and he fucking hated it. your bodice diamond dress hugged you OH so perfectly.. and framed in that breathtaking face. god dammit, Seeing you so gorgeous should be for his greedy eyes only. classic ghost.

especially as you beamed sweetly. Hugging your girlfriends goodbye before pacing over to him. God.. he looked so hot on that motorcycle. Smooching his wickedly handsome face with a cheeky grin as you babbled your innocent ‘hey’. you were obviously drunk.. the sharp tinge of alcohol fogging your pretty mind as you climbed on his dark motorcycle. and you didn’t know if it was his simmering eyes or the way he straddled you into his lap that made you squeak.

that’s just how possessive he felt. letting you cling onto him from behind in that teasingly short dress so everyone could see your perfect ass? Pfft! You were fucking his!

“Don’t even try doll” he growled as you tried to scoot off his lap, your pretty eyes widening. this could not be safe!! But you were a little too distracted on the way his hands gripped the dark handles - his veins bulging underneath his massive arms. so like the good girl you were, you obeyed.. especially as the image of his hands wrapped around your dainty throat invaded your mind. His filthy girl indeed.

you whined your pretty protests as he took off quickly. wrapping your body around him like your life depended on it, you convinced yourself it did, and not that his massive body just felt so gloriously hard. But your naughty little mind was occupied as he drove on. How could a pair of arms be so damn arousing! Maybe it was the fantasy of how they always managed to slide into your drooling pussy. Or maybe the way they rubbed your throbbing clit.

he could feel his horny girls needy gaze. smirking to his arrogant self.

“Your looking” he purred. Laughing darkly as your guiltily glossy eyes snapped to his. That barstard laughed! And fuck, your pink cunt drooled in sweet wetness at the raspy hum.

“I’m trying not to fall off dickhead!” brat. you huffed, clinging on even more dramatically. an angel lie couldn’t hurt, especially as he chuckled, and you yelped as you felt his massive cock grow hard underneath you. Tsk tsk, he knew when his girl was lying.

“Mm- ok slutty girl” he grunted out between gritted teeth as he navigated the streets at breakneck speed. The nickname making you whine like the cute whore you were.

Suddenly, the motorcycle hit some rocky roads, making you bounce on his clothed cock. your face flushed in a crimson pink as a moan left your naughty mouth, and a groan from his.

“f-fuck! sorry!” You babbled frantically - but you were definitely not sorry. In fact you were sinfully eager. Especially as your cunt clenched in response.

“Fuck, Doll” Ghost groaned as your sinful body bounced on his lap, the sensation driving him wild. He leaned forward slightly to brace himself against the wind, his rippling muscles tense beneath your touch. making you shiver in delight.

"Don't apologize for that." He gritted his teeth as he felt your panties soak through from your sweet, taunting wetness. His hips jerked forward instinctively with each bounce, making contact with your cunt every time.

“AH-H Ghost!” you whimpered against his neck. But he was already pulling into a secluded alley way. Fuck.. He couldn’t take it anymore. What did you expect? That dress just made you so assessable. Everyone had seen it on you, but only he could rip it off.

“You wore that slutty fucking dress just for my attention huh? Mm? Fuck doll, Bend over like the slut you are will ya” he growled - yanking you both of the bike as he pulled your twinkling backside into him. Groaning as your plush ass met his erected cock. A surprised gasp left your cherry mouth as his nails practically stabbed into your hips. But he wasn’t one for sympathy. Especially when it came to his woman.

you whimpered as he pushed your perfect head down, bending you over his sleek motorcycle so your lustrous ass was arched against him. You pretty dress flying up as his dark eyes darkened in hunger as he beheld your dripping panties, drawing them to the side to expose your pretty cunt. That tight pussy that belonged to him. Chuckling in pure male mockiness. You whined, knowing damn well someone could walk by any second.. and it made you even needier. And he knew too, knew that he was going to fuck you like his little plaything — which you very much were

“𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥”

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[drpeppertummy]

too much pumpkin soup be upon ye old men

i been writing this for like a week😭😭😭😭😭

[stuffing]

"Okay, I know it's too hot out if you're wearing short sleeves," groaned Connie, leaning against the door frame.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I think it's beautiful out," grinned Val. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek as he passed by her, pot in hand.

"Whatcha makin'?"

"Pumpkin soup!"

"Oh, Christ, Val!" Connie let her head fall back against the wall at the thought of hot soup.

"I know, I know, it's not pumpkin season," he teased. "Canned will still get the job done." Connie rolled her eyes. "Hey, don't worry, I'll make somethin' nice and cool for the rest of you."

Connie leaned against the fridge while she watched Val work, hoping to leach out some of its coolness. While the rare sight of his exposed arms was a testament to the heat--he spent most of the year bundled up, the New Jersey air far too chilly for a man from Hell even when it was warm--it was a welcome view for Connie, who seldom got to see much of her husband's skin. He had just a touch of muscle to him, not too much for her simple tastes but enough to give him the enticing air of a man who could move some furniture, and plenty of dark hair. A faded scar across his bicep was just visible under the edge of his sleeve, which, as the story went, was left by his sister centuries ago when they were wrestling as children. While Val passed easily as a human, his sister, whose long claws had dug deep enough in play to leave a permanent mark, was another story.

"Excuse me, miss, can I help you?" Connie pulled her eyes from Val's arms to see an amused look on his face. She smiled back at him.

"Maybe when it starts getting chilly again," she teased. She'd have loved to sweep him off to bed right then and there, but with his body temperature being well over a hundred, she couldn't bear the thought of it.

"Oh, believe me, I'll be there," he grinned. In theory, summer should have been Val's favorite season. It was the only time of year the weather felt good to him, and the only couple of months where he didn't have a cold. He'd gladly have traded both of those perks, though, for the comfort of Connie's arms. In chillier weather, he made a perfect little personal heater for her to cuddle, but in the sweltering heat of summer, they had to keep a little more distance between themselves for her sake. It was tough for both of them, particularly Val, who, in addition to being an exceptionally physically affectionate person, still craved a little extra warmth against his body even during the hottest of days. If he couldn't get that extra warmth from her, a hot bowl of soup would have to suffice.

With the soup simmering away on the stove, Val got to work putting together a lighter, more refreshing dinner for the rest of the family. He didn't realize how hungry he'd been getting until he started preparing the salad, and his belly let out a loud rumble. Connie, now by his side at the counter helping him chop vegetables, gave his empty middle a playful poke. He smiled sheepishly up at her.

"It's dinnertime," he said with a shrug.

The recipe wound up making far more soup than Val expected, and he was glad he hadn't doubled it like he'd thought about. If nobody else was interested in having any, it would be close trying to finish it all off before it went bad. Of course, he could always freeze some, but Val hated handling anything from the freezer. The frozen-solid packages stung his hot skin, and the rush of cold air when he opened it chilled him to the core. He preferred to avoid it altogether. With that reasoning, he sat down at the table with a particularly large serving of soup.

"Since when do you have room for all that?" Connie teased, taking her seat across from him.

"I'm hungry! Besides, there's a ton of it."

"Mm, whatever you say," she said, and he gave her a look of playful annoyance.

Val had done an excellent job on both soup and salad. The salad was light and flavorful, filled with fresh berries and tender chicken and crisp vegetables, hardly even needing dressing to enhance it. The soup was rich and creamy, hot and filling and exactly what Val had been craving all day. The two even exchanged a few bites, unable to resist the allure of the other's dish.

"How'd I manage to snag such a good cook?" Connie leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the nose.

"Oh, where do I begin?" He smiled adoringly at her, and she stuck a strawberry in his mouth.

"Don't start," she giggled. "Your soup's gonna get cold."

"Ooh! Can't have that." Val gave an exaggerated shiver and scooped up another spoonful, humming happily to himself as he ate. He was halfway through the bowl now, and he was starting to feel the weight of the soup in his belly. It was good, though, and while he began to slow his pace, his appetite had yet to falter.

"Aren't you full yet? That's a lot of soup for a little guy like you," Connie teased, slipping an arm around his waist. She hadn't been particularly hungry herself, and she'd already finished her small serving of salad.

"A little," he confessed, leaning back in his seat. His tummy poked out slightly against his shirt. Connie gave it a friendly pat.

"Don't go overdoing it," she warned. "You're not gettin' a belly rub outta me when it's this hot out." She was only bluffing, of course; even in the heat of the summer, she would never leave him to nurse an upset tummy on his own.

"I'm fine," he assured her, though he wasn't sure he'd be able to finish. He was in the stage now where he was thoroughly aware of how snug his stomach felt, and each bite nudged him closer and closer to the threshold of discomfort. Still, he was enjoying the warmth in his belly, and picked up his spoon and went back in for a few more bites. Connie rose from her seat and started straightening up the kitchen while he slowly worked on his dinner.

Val was quickly running out of space, his tummy feeling uncomfortably tight now, and he paused to let it settle for a moment. He set the spoon down and held a hand to his belly. It bumped out snug against the waist of his pants, his belt hugging it tightly, and the curve was plainly visible under his shirt. He leaned back with a sigh, hand resting on his belly.

"Do you want the rest of this? I'm stuffed," he said.

"Nah. Why don't you throw it back in the pot? I won't tell."

"Ah, it's just a tiny bit. May as well finish it." He hesitantly picked up the spoon again. Truthfully, he wasn't sure his stomach could hold that tiny bit. He felt like he had pumpkin soup up to his tonsils. Still, it seemed silly to quit with such a small amount left in the bowl, and he reluctantly scooped up another bite.

There were only a few spoonfuls left, but each one felt like a gallon to his straining belly. The first one went down hard, the second even harder. As he picked up the third, his hand stopped. His stomach felt like it was stretched to its limit, and in that moment, he felt sure that if he searched his entire body inside and out, he wouldn't be able to find even a pinch of space to fit that last bite of soup. With a heavy sigh, he set the spoon back in the bowl and slumped back in his seat, both hands resting on his distended tummy.

Connie glanced over her shoulder to see Val looking utterly defeated, his belly sticking out dramatically over the waist of his pants and peeking out under the hem of his shirt, and she barely stifled a laugh. He looked up, his expression weary but good-natured, and she smiled fondly at him.

"Little too much?"

"Little too much."

[celestialspritz]

this is just a lil bit of a follow up to that one post @sicksadsim made which really hit the nail on the head for me about the community

i notice SO MUCH of the time that people will make artwork / cc / sims story etc that they put so much time into and really outdid themselves, and it'll get practically zero engagement because 'not everybody else is reblogging it/it's not popular, why should i?'.

mind you it is just simblr and it's probably not that big of a deal but how can we be a sims community if we're not uniting together and uplifting each other? why is it reblog the big blogs and sit on the smaller blogs? the answer to that is the community is just a big high school cafeteria and you have to walk on eggshells to sit at their lunch table.

i hate the fact that nowadays people will create things JUST for notes. i miss seeing people posting their stuff they're so proud of and super passionate about. people being frightened to post their cc preview because it's not as good as others or they used the same font as somebody, or the same editing program as another user. a similar sim style. "oh she used true mm hairs/colourful hairs she's defo copying this person" get a grip!!! who cares, why does a community for the sims of all things have to be so cliquey/gatekeeping all of a sudden?

(for the record i dont care about notes lol, i just care about making sure people, esp the lesser known blogs, know that others appreciate their contributions to the community. i know im rambling here and nothing makes sense LOL but what im trying to say is that this whole climbing the popularity ladder in sims comm is ridic. ive literally seen ppl be friends with randos just so their blog can attract more ppl. its so weird like this is NOT a business yk)

there's ppl i know who have been around probably longer than i've been alive and their stuff doesn't get much praise, and the newer, and in my experience gen z members of the community refer to them as "hags", think their style is ugly and dated, laugh at them and constantly trash them; it's hilarious considering at the same time they'll use sims veterans creations as bases for their own. it's the older simmers around us today that have kept the game/its community alive for all this time, if it wasn't for them, we wouldn't have younger fans like myself today.

all in all i just think that there is a creepy weird hierarchy in this community. it's great to uplift our favourites/most popular in the community, but don't forget the ones that started way back in 04 and the ones who are just starting out today.

we all have one thing in common and that's (hopefully) the love and joy we have out of creating our stuff. if you're feeling threatened by someone's work and you're going to be spiteful about it, then it's defo a you problem. stop the gatekeeping, the hierarchy, the cliques. it's so unnecessary and makes you look so fucking ridiculous

[anincompletelist]

happy smutsgiving! :D

had no idea this was a thing but figured I'd share here in the final stretch of the day kjshdkjhs. as the title suggests, this is NSFW! 18+ only please.

here's a scene from hitman au! I hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving! <3

+

“Your fucking mouth, sweetheart,” Alex grunts, his head tossed backward into the wall, “should be illegal. How much time do you think we have before someone comes looking for you?” 

“Mm, probably, like, half an hour?” Henry mumbles where Alex’s pulse is still caught between his teeth. “Maybe less if they finish up dinner early.” 

“Gonna have to make this quick then, hm?” 

Quick? In the past when Henry’d managed to get this far with someone they’d frantically gotten each other off with their hands and then promptly redressed and headed for the door before Henry could even get his clothes back on properly. All of those times had taken ten minutes at the very most. It’s always borrowed time, and never truthfully something Henry wants to take his time with. 

But Alex seems persistent in his quest to keep Henry both literally and figuratively on his toes, always hanging on every syrupy, sprawling syllable like some kind of fixation, the likes of which Henry typically tries valiantly to avoid. 

He eases back from Alex’s neck once he’s certain he’s left behind a sufficient bruise, a little shocked at his own eagerness. His fingers loosen where they’ve bunched up the material of Alex’s suit jacket at his shoulders, the reminder that he has no right to hold so tightly heavy in his temples as the shame works it’s way up his chest and onto his cheeks with a blush. 

Alex is blissfully ignorant of the sentiment though, and he tugs Henry closer to him with firm fingers and a seeking mouth, all muttered expletives and heat and the jagged cut of his teeth tugging at Henry’s lower lip.  The bite of pain keeps him present, keeps him steady, and Henry clings to it, gasps into Alex’s mouth when he squeezes roughly over the curve of Henry’s hips underneath his shirt until there isn’t a stitch of space left between them. 

It’s exhilarating to be wanted so openly, even if they are hidden away in an off-limits gallery away from prying eyes. Alex kisses him like he might die if he doesn’t, and that’s- Henry’s only ever been kissed indifferently, if he was even kissed at all. Alex’s hands keep gripping and tugging at different parts of Henry’s body like he can’t decide which part he wants to explore first, and Henry hates himself for hoping that it’ll take far more than just tonight to finish the expedition. 

Alex slides his shoulders down the wall a few inches and the motion juts his hips forward, one of his thighs, thick and muscular, settling in the space between Henry’s legs. Though Henry usually prefers the control, he’s helpless to stop the way his knees threaten to give out at the pressure of Alex’s own hips pressing firmly into his. 

He keens and topples forward, his nose glued to the space just behind Alex’s ear, and Alex catches him easily with a hand around his waist, slowly urging him back and forth. He presses a wet kiss to the part of Henry’s cheek that he can reach, then smooths a dangerous grin to the same spot. 

“Yeah? S’that feel good?” he coos, his voice deceivingly sweet before it dips into a filthy drawl, his teeth bared and fingers digging into flesh. “Come on, baby, ride me. That’s it.” 

The heat coils and simmers in his belly, his hands back to clutching fistfuls of Alex’s shirt as he abandons his resolution to remain unaffected. It doesn’t matter that they’re practically strangers, that Alex - Ander? - doesn’t seem to exist in any of the records or on any of the guest lists. Henry knows it’s the kind of thing he should probably bring up to the security staff, that he should leave well enough alone and stay away from Alex even if he is frustratingly alluring and by far the most beautiful man Henry’s ever seen. It’s risky and it’s dangerous and it’s stupid and Henry knows it. 

And yet. 

He feels mindless as he grinds forward into Alex’s hip and then back down onto his thigh, the pressure so dizzying that he has to keep his eyes shut, his mouth open against Alex’s shoulder, a bit of drool gathered on the material. Henry can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt so out of control, but it isn’t as terrifying of an idea as it always used to be with the others

Not when Alex is equally as affected, the outline of his cock straining stiffly against the bulge at the front of Henry’s own trousers, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his neck. Henry’s chin tilts and his lips part on instinct, gathering the salt onto his tongue with a quiet moan. 

“Fuck,” Alex hisses, nudging Henry with his head until he can look him in the eye, pushing the hair back from his forehead with his hand. “You’re gorgeous, you know that? You think you can get off like this?” 

“Probably,” Henry admits, his voice trembling. “It’s- it’s been a while. For me.” 

“Baby. That’s so fucking hot.” 

His hips stutter on Alex’s thigh, a crease forming between his brows. “It is?” 

“Fuck yeah, it is,” Alex growls, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist and urging him forward, back into a bruising rhythm as he breathes directly over the shell of Henry’s ear. “Knowing you think I’m worthy of getting to have you like this? Thinking about finally getting you all to myself after dancing around each other for months? Knowing I’m the one that gets to take you apart with my lips? With my hands? With my teeth?” Henry gasps, gripping frantically at Alex’s shoulders as he sucks a reciprocative bruise into the side of his jaw, the sharp line of his teeth marring his pale skin and drawing the blood to the surface. “Picturing you so desperate for me that you had to pull me away from the party and abandon your princely obligations just so you could have your fix?” A breathless chuckle lands somewhere against Henry’s collarbone, condescending pleasure mixing with the sweetest hint of pain. “S’a fuckin’ dream, sweetheart.” 

“Alex,” Henry groans a bit too loudly in the quietness of the room, shuddering at the lofty implications of his words, but Alex doesn’t shush him. 

What would they say? Henry wonders deliriously. How scandalized would people be to see the Prince of England’s Hearts with his own stuck in the confines of his throat, desperate to be handed on a silver platter to the man with his hands underneath the waist band of Henry’s trousers, the other wrapped around his neck? To see the picture of prim propriety panting and debauched, rutting mindlessly, desperately, on the brink of losing his meticulous control? Handing it over willingly?

“Yeah, baby. Say my fuckin’ name.” 

“Close,” Henry chokes. 

“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” Alex grins again, his eyes half-lidded as they roam lazily over Henry’s face, the antithesis of the punishingly quick, sharp snaps of his hips. “Wanna hear you, Henry.” 

“Yes,” he gasps, and Alex leans forward to fill in the gap between his lips with his own once more. 

It’s too much and too fast but he’s loath to stop it now, and suddenly he’s melting into molten heat headfirst, Alex’s heady eyes blazing and fierce, his grip tight and his rhythm unrelenting as it crashes over Henry in waves. He shivers and bucks and falls forward again, shaking in Alex’s arms as his eyes dip backward and flutter closed against the rush of heat. 

The world is still a little hazy around the edges when he registers Alex reaching down between them to undo the front of his trousers and get a hand around himself, pausing to lick a stripe up the center of his palm before he’s stripping himself in hurried strokes, flicking his wrist and rubbing a thumb over his slit, and Henry can see how much he’s leaking each time the flushed head of his cock fits through the top of his clenched fist. If he weren’t so lax-limbed and shaky, Henry would drop to his knees right this moment. 

He’s not as good at talking as Alex evidently is, but he’s always been intuitive with his body, with his lovers, though he’s not usually given the chance to explore or appreciate that. But Alex is here, right in front of him, gorgeous and desperate and close, and Henry can’t help the way he brings a trembling hand forward to grip at the newly exposed skin at Alex’s hip that’d been covered by his pants only moments before, only inches away from where he’s aching and swollen, and Henry curves a thumb into the jut of bone and soft flesh, and presses. 

“Ah, ah, fuck, Henry-” Alex comes with a stutter and a loud groan, clinging to Henry like a vice as he chases the feeling and then draws away, like it’s both too much and just on the precipice of too much. Henry understands. 

He strokes a hand down the back of Alex’s head until he calms, pulling back enough to look Henry in the eye and press their mouths together, softer than he had earlier. When he moves to clean them up Henry pushes him back against the wall with a gentle hand to his shoulder, ignoring Alex’s cocked brow as he reaches down on autopilot. 

With a soft sigh, Henry indulges himself in yet another fantasy he’s never been able to act on. He grips Alex’s dirty wrist from between them and drags it up to his mouth, eyes shut as he curls Alex’s fingers over his tongue and cleans each of them thoroughly, from his fingertips to his knuckles and back again, warm flesh and piquant release soothing his frayed senses. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Alex chokes, the breath knocked out of his chest. “You’re fucking perfect.” 

Henry hums and continues, pulling off of his fingers to drag his tongue across the veins and tendons running through the back of Alex’s hand that lead down to his wrist. He doesn’t stop until there’s no trace of Alex left on him, then eases a soft kiss to the center of his palm, leaning into it when Alex uses the same one to grip his cheek and pull him forward again. 

“Thank you,” Henry murmurs against his mouth, his gratitude eagerly accepted and returned by swollen, salacious lips.

+

[mickimomo]

Popsicle (Oni × Namora)

I plan on writing one for Attoye and Nashuri when I get some free time. 🫶🏾

It was a hot day in Wakanda and everyone was desperate to either cool down in the river or eat something cold.

The icee vendors had lines so long, that people didn't dare to add to it. Either going home to fetch something refreshing or floating in the Wakandan river to stay cool.

It was getting to the point that several Wakandans had either went to the Jabari Lands or Talokan to escape the simmering sun, because the river wasn't cutting it.

Although, Namora found the sun pretty, she hated how hot the summer could get.

Instead of her usual armor, she was dressed in an orange loincloth and a cropped red tube top.

Her skin was flushed purple from the heat and her hair was tied up in a bun, to keep her skin from heating up further.

It was hard to be on land today, but she was desperate to see the priestess.

She was often covered in long sleeve dresses and veiled. So if she were ever to see more of her, it would be today of all days. Her inner fashion fanatic was itching to see what kind of swimwear she'd dawn as priestess of Wakanda.

Maybe a one piece and a veil?

Would she wear a veil on such a hot day?

How would the people accommodate their priestess when it was 100+ degrees farenheit out here?

Would they be expected to not look at her while she graced Wakanda with her unveiled face or would they give her something else to wear?

Her blush darkened as she imagined her in a set of skimpy swimwear with a mask.

"Namora, you are more purple than the plums of Wakanda." Attuma teased her with a soft splash that cooled and dampened her shoulders. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

Namor approached her with a curious brow. "Probably her land flower."

"She is a water lily." Namora corrected with a huff.

"I guess it's fitting if they have to float on the surface." Attuma teased before accepting a face full of water.

"Do not mock, in Yuum k'iino'."

Namor chuckled. "In Yuum k'iino', in lool, or in yakunaj?"

Namora splashed him as her blush deepened into a rich violet. "Xe!"

"Aw Namora. Don't tell us to go away." Attuma scooped her out of the water and hugged her tight. "We are worried for you."

"Let go of me, you overgrown shark." She scowled and smacked at him like an angry cat. "You both lack the brain cells to worry about anyone else!"

"If we lacked the brain cells, we wouldn't know you were over here having nasty thought about your crush." Attuma hummed.

"A crush you cannot act on." Namor reminded.

"Don't remind me." Namora grumbled.

"The two of you have so much sexual tension, you probably visit each other in each other's dreams."

"I wish." Namora groaned.

''Chaac will not be cruel. I'm sure something will come around." Attuma set her down before patting her softly on the back.

"You think so?" Namora mumbled.

"Yes." Namor gently cupped her cheeks. "Do not feel defeated, mm? You can still be around her until things change."

"If things change."

"Have faith."

"Eh."

"Have you even seen her today?" Attuma furrowed his eyebrows.

"No. I'd faint by the time I reached the marketplace in this heat."

"Why don't you ask Shuri about Oni's whereabouts?" Namor arched a brow. "Maybe she can ask Oni to come here to see you?"

Her eyes lifted to see Shuri slowly making her way down the hill with Okoye, Aneka, and Ayo sporting bathing suits of different styles.

"I don't know." She murmured. "I don't want people misunderstanding me."

"Because you have a crush?"

"I don't need another Cebisa in my life."

"Hey come on. If anyone knows, Queen Shuri would." Attuma offered. "If not her, K'iin would. I'm sure they'd understand that you're hoping for a friendly interaction."

Namora puffed her cheeks. "I'm not asking your partners."

"Do you want one of us to ask?" Namor tilted his head.

"No." She frowned. "She will either come to me or I will crawl to her."

They both chuckled as she turned her back to the shore and glared at the water.

As if she were summoned by their discussion, a cheery shout sounded from the market area as Oni came running forward with a large cart. The Jabari king, following after her with a few temple workers carrying a few coolers.

"Popsicles! Come get your free popsicles!"

"Ah. Would you look at that." Attuma chuckled. "She descends upon us like a shooting star."

Namora's head snapped around to see the priestess giggling and laughing as she donned a lilac bikini and matching colored lace veil.

Her eyes were saucers as she watched the priestess hand out frozen rectangles on a stick, cheerily greeting people who thanked her for the cold dessert. M'Baku stood next to her, helping her hand treats out, looking just as stylish as his cousin.

"A purple one." Namor added before refocusing on his cousin. "Almost the color of your face-"

Namora silenced him with a large splash before getting out of the river and quickly making her way towards her crush.

Her hopes of seeing the priestess were quickly squashed when she was forced to stand at the very end of the line by a few angry individuals.

She was tempted to beat everyone's ass, but she didn't want to upset Oni.

If she dared to wait until she got to the front, she'd risk fainting and waking up with Chaac.

Namora, however, was determined and stubborn.

Oni was worth the risk.

She would conquer the sun and collect a frozen treat from the priestess, even if it killed her.

She would bask in her attention and compliment her attire and then invite her to eat with her. And then she'd get the honor of spending the rest of the day with the most beautiful soul of the surface world.

Maybe they could go for a swim.

Her mind dissociated from her body, daydreaming up a million and one scenarios that fueled her will to endure the scorching sun.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, she finally made it to the front.

A little lightheaded and sore from the sun, but happy nonetheless.

"Hi Namora."

This was it.

She had been practicing english nonstop just for this very moment.

The warrior smiled behind her rebreather. "Hello, Yuum k'iino."

"What flavor popsicle do you want?"

"Surprise me."

Oni hummed as she looked down into the cart while M'Baku served the next person in line a treat, her breasts fully on display to the talokanil warrior as her veiled face debated on a flavor.

Her skin glistened with sweat, a non-ashy sunscreen, and fine glitter that shifted between bronze and warm lavender.

The lilac bikini was plain and held together with a series of crisscrossing strings that promised strange tan lines.

Namora couldn't refrain from staring, her mind desperate to burn the image of the veiled woman into her brain.

All those years of training had done her wonders.

And there were no scars to show for it- although that was probably Bast refusing to have a scarred vessel.

"Mmm..."

Namora blinked back to reality at the sound.

"...you look like an orange creamsicle type of person." Oni hummed as she pressed her chest against the top of the cart while reaching in to grab the flavor she named. "Here." She stood up and held it out.

Namora let out a shaky breath as she watched. "Thank you." She grabbed it carefully before furrowing her eyebrows. "Can you eat one with me? I've never had this kind of treat before."

Oni offered a small nod before reaching in and grabbing out another. "Umzala, can I step away real quick?"

He offered a nod before arching a brow at them. "Don't take too long."

"I won't. It's just a quick snack break." She waved her popsicle at her cousin before walking with Namora to find a spot to sit and eat.

The Jabari king rolled his eyes as he watched them retreat.

"You've never had a popsicle before?" Oni looked at her from behind her veil.

Namora shook her head. "We do not have these in Talokan."

"But you've been to the surface world..."

"To kill my enemies."

They settled on the river shore, in a spot that was significantly less crowded.

Basically desolate, minus a person who had nodded off while reading a book a few feet away in an umbrellaed chair.

No one else dared to sit over there due to the lack of shade.

Music played softly in the background from sleeping Wakandan's stereo adding to the ambience of the warrior and the priestess' little date.

"Well let's nip this first time experience in the bud." Oni hummed as she unwrapped her popsicle and held it up. "You just unwrap it and eat it."

Namora unwrapped it and pulled off her facial rebreather before biting the popsicle.

Oni couldn't refrain from giggling as the woman recoiled with discomfort.

"I do not like it."

"You can't bite it when it's that hard, Namora."

"Then what am I supposed to do with this?"

"Suck it or lick it."

Namora blinked as her mind went diving headfirst into a gutter.

Oni sucking and licking-

"What?"

"Watch." Oni hummed as she lifted her veil enough to reveal her glossy two-toned lips before taking the tip of the popsicle into her mouth.

Her cheeks hollowed briefly as she sucked before she dragged her tongue up the side of the orange and white treat.

"You're supposed to use your mouth to melt it." She licked her lips. "And then when it's soft enough, you can bite it." She sucked on the popsicle a little more before sinking a canine into it, to bite off a chunk. "Like so."

Namora watched her chew a little before swallowing with parted lips.

"Try it." She smiled.

The warrior put the popsicle into her mouth and sucked as instructed.

Oni tilted her head. "Like it?"

"I guess so. The eating process is odd." Namora offered before trailing her tongue across the popsicle with purpled cheeks.

Oni shrugged. "It's only odd if you make it odd." She grinned before refocusing on eating her popsicle.

Namora looked out to the river shyly.

They ate quietly until Namora let out a sharp gasp and began to curse under her breath in her native tongue.

"What's wrong?" Oni blinked.

"Stupid treat, got in my top." Namora grumbled.

"Oh? Let me help." Oni hummed before handing her, her frozen treat.

"I don't need-" Namora fell silent as the priestess grabbed her breasts and groped them experimentally, being careful that no one could see what was happening.

"Well it's not under them, so it must be between them." She hummed before sliding a cold hand under the band of fabric.

"Oni-"

"-Got it." She held up the frozen chunk and popped it into her mouth before leaning forward.

Her two-toned lips looked so soft, Namora's head was spinning at the thought of biting her or kissing her pretty ass until she was breathless.

Why was Oni such a demon?

"Do you need me to clean it up? I doubt you'd want your skin to get sticky." She gently rested her hands on her azure thighs. "Right?"

Namora was so purple, her breath slowly became ragged at the thought of Oni licking and sucking on her breasts.

"For someone who has vows to keep, you're awful at trying to keep them." Namora shivered as she priestess leaned in, so that their lips were barely touching. "Especially when we are in public."

Oni leaned back after fixing the warrior's top. "Fine. I'll be normal and get you a damp napkin."

"Thank you."

"Mhm."

Namora watched the priestess get up and walk away with swaying hips before wincing as a ball hit her in the face.

Her nose started bleeding and her face stung from the sheer force.

Cebisa approached slowly with a small group of apologetic children.

"Ma'taali'teeni' General Namora!" One talokanil kid pouted behind their rebreather.

"We didn't mean for the ball to hit you and make you bleed!"  A Wakandan kid panicked. "We were playing catch with Shaman Cebisa and the ball-"

Another kid made a whistling while a fourth reenacted her fate.

Namora knew exactly why the ball had hit her in the face.

Cebisa's expression was cordial but smug.

The threat was clear.

Oni has vows and she was not supposed to be participating in the breaking of them.

She looked at the two fallen popsicles and got up with a frown. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing a quick swim can't fix."

"Perhaps you should take a long one." Cebisa offered. "I know the sun can be hard on the people of Talokan."

Namora frowned. "Discomfort is the norm when walking the surface."

"Well let's hope you stop walking towards things you cannot touch." She forced a smile. "I'd hate for you to cause irreversible damage."

"Of course." Namora forced a smile after licking some of her blood that had trailed down to her bottom lip.

The kids recollected their ball and retreated with the shaman, leaving Namora to her thoughts.

Namora rolled her eyes before grabbing her rebreather and stepping into the river.

She'd gotten something out of today.

She would not cross that line again.

At least, not again in the same day.

She turned around to see Oni talking to her cousin and smiled.

She'd have to pray for another hot summer day.

The warrior refocused on the river as she walked further in, before vanishing below the water's surface.

[deliriumsdelight7]

Dude. Stop. Any time you send Grace hate to my inbox, I’m just going to delete it and post a recipe instead. My blog is not a platform for your hate.

Here’s a recipe for boba, which I’ve never had and am dying to try. Those little balls are either gonna be the perfect texture, or absolutely horrible. Personally, I’m hoping they burst in your mouth like when you bite into a paint ball.

Ingredients

for 2 servings

BOBA PEARLS

⅓ cup water, plus more as needed

¼ cup dark muscovado sugar, or brown sugar

¾ cup tapioca flour, plus more for dusting

BROWN SUGAR SYRUP

1 cup dark muscovado sugar, or brown sugar

1 cup water

BLACK TEA

2 cups water

6 black tea bags

MILK MIXTURE

3 tablespoons half & half

3 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk

ASSEMBLY

3 cups ice, divided

SPECIAL EQUIPMENT

wide-opening straw

Preparation

Make the boba pearls: Add the water and muscovado sugar to a medium pan over medium-high heat. Cook until the sugar dissolves and the mixture comes to a boil, 3–4 minutes. Add a bit of the tapioca flour and cook, stirring constantly, until smooth. Add half of the remaining tapioca flour and stir vigorously until a sticky dough forms. Turn off the heat and add the remaining tapioca flour. Stir until the dough comes together in a ball (not all of the flour will be incorporated at this stage). Let cool slightly.

Turn the dough out onto a clean surface. Knead until all of the flour is incorporated and the dough is smooth, adding more flour or water as needed if the dough is too sticky or too dry.

Divide the dough into 2 portions. Roll the dough into long, thin ropes about ¼-inch (6.35 mm) thick, cutting in half crosswise if they get too long. Cut the ropes into ¼-inch (6.35 mm) pieces. Roll each piece into a ball and place in a bowl with a bit of tapioca flour. Dust the balls with the flour to prevent them from sticking to each other.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Shake off any excess flour from the tapioca pearls, then add to the boiling water. Stir to separate the pearls, then reduce the heat to medium-low. Simmer gently, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes, until cooked through.

Meanwhile, make the brown sugar syrup: Add the muscovado sugar and water to a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook until the sugar dissolves and the syrup reduces slightly, 5–7 minutes. Pour the syrup into a large heatproof bowl.

Once the pearls have cooked through, drain and rinse with cold water. Add the pearls to the bowl with the brown sugar syrup and let sit for 30–60 minutes.

Make the black tea: In a medium pot over high heat, combine the water and tea bags. Bring to a boil, then remove the pan from the heat and let the tea cool to room temperature.

Make the milk mixture: In a small bowl or liquid measuring cup, whisk together the half-and-half and sweetened condensed milk until combined.

Assemble the boba milk tea: Add about ⅓ cup (80 ml) boba pearls and brown sugar syrup to the bottom of each glass. Top with 1½ cups (225 grams) ice, then add ½ cup (240 ml) black tea and 3 tablespoons of the milk mixture. Stir with a wide-opening straw, then serve.

[atombonniebaby]

WIP Weekend

Thanks to @theartofblossoming for the tag!

Tagging fellow creatives (no obligations here either!): @druidgroves @fallout-new-mudkip @galaxycunt @just-another-wasteland-merc @maccreadysbaby @perfectlypreservedpie @sassenashsworld @sirmanmister @willinglyghoulified

As for me? My Dudes, she's been writing! (and procrastinating said writing by playing fo4 and making screenshots!)

So here's an update on MacBeth!

Been smoothing out the timeline! Trying to take my time to get the pacing right! [I'm excited because it's getting meaty and falling into place...it's getting chonky!!]

Coming up:

Enter Mayor MacCready (Sim Settlements 2 makes this a reality, btw!)

Mac's past as a Gunner comes back to bite him. (Featuring Quincy and Sunglasses)

A wee bit o romance to fix up (and bewilder) a lonesome merc

Mac steps up big-time (MM stuff, SS2 cast come in, and I love 'em!)

Some more angst (okay, most of it is probably angst.)

Winter is Coming...and it bringeth the Feral Hordes (I apologize in advance, Mac!)

Thar be an imposter among us...

Responsibility weighs heavily...Guilt be crippling!

(Oh look, this is roughly where I originally started this fic like a rookie!)

To follow: A bunch of other stuff I've been cooking up over the year (Expect Reunions, Lamplighters all grown up, more bad jokes, heartache, and (I hope) big reveals.)

For Now:

Here's a scene from an upcoming 3 chapter story arc.

Since Duncan was featured in my posts this week, I found myself revisiting the flashback that leads to the moment Mac makes the promise to his son. The full rewrite will now reveal the identity of 'The Stanger.'

The Promise

Awakening to Duncan’s demands for attention, he’s alone, and RJ bristles, the faint smell of newborn mingling with the antiseptic of the surgery overwhelming. After a minute of psyching himself up, he bundled the screeching infant into his arms and moved for the door, hoping to find some bleeding heart to ease his headache—he didn't get that far. 

Goddammit, the little shit had to stop crying, didn’t he? Trying to ignore the feel of Duncan's small fingers curling around his, he shrugs off the comforting pull of the bundle of warmth in his shaking arms and cradles his son close, sinking back into the chair, the fingers on his free hand clinging to Lucy’s. It's the first moment of peace in days, a fleeting respite, and it’s too much. His steely exterior cracks, and the quiet, simmering tears spill over.

RJ cleared his throat as the airlock opened, and a nurse walked in—about dang time!  She’s young and smiley. Her brown hair was neatly braided underneath a funny hat with a green cross. He wondered if Lucy would wear one if she became a nurse. "You okay, love?" She looked him over, sweetly, caring like—handing him a rag.

Oh, fuck off! He was not crying! "Yeah—Just the damn dust!" his nose wrinkled, and MacCready hoped his smile was convincing.

"You want to have a go, or shall I take him?" She held up a bottle.

"I can do it!" he said a little too enthusiastically. “I don't want him to start crying again. My head is already splitting." 

He took the bottle she handed him—that stuff gets expensive. There was no point in letting it get cold, sitting and arguing about it.

"Need me to show you?" the nurse said with a hand on her hip and a smug glint in her eye. 

She probably thought he'd need help because he's a guy or something—he was feeding his son to spite her! "I can manage...thanks," he grumbled. "Not my first time feeding a Little.”  

He hated himself for smiling at how Duncan enthusiastically gripped that bottle. He was supposed to be angry at him, but as he suckled the bottle, RJ looked—really looked at him, those warm browns blinking back—the little bastard, that was all it took.

"Kid has her eyes," RJ sputtered, wiping his nose. "Damn, dust—don't you guys have cleaning robots around here?" 

He accepted the rag this time, laughing through the tears seeping through. The nurse gave his shoulder a light squeeze and a knowing look, and she grinned all toothy at him before disappearing back through the airlock.

"You see how she looked at us, kid?" he scoffed, brows pinching as he wiped the tears from his face. 

"You know, I bet your mumma is gonna freak the fu–agh—" MacCready furrowed his brows as he looked over the innocent bundle in his arms. "Freak the frick out when she meets you." The stranger's voice was a dull drone, a gnawing Rad Rat in the back of his mind. 

"I didn't mean to yell at you, a'right?" his head shook, smiling. “She is the one that keeps me level-headed. She'd kick my ass—for fuck…nope....uh-uh—"

MacCready cleared his throat, steeling himself before continuing. "She'd beat my butt if she heard me talk to you like that. So, how about we don't tell her, huh? Do you promise to keep this between us, two MacCready boys?

Duncan fidgeted through his swaddle. Big eyes focused on him. "Yeah?" MacCready chuckled, playing with his son's feet beneath the blanket. "Then, I promise to get my shit–oh, for fuck sake!" he took another deep breath that exhaled as a laugh.

"Maybe I should start with a swear jar..."

[deathbypufferfish]

Imo the rava set should be public to begin with, As it looks like mostly in game recolors. 🤷‍♀️ syboulette has done very nice Hanukkah sets. (But not MM)

It's honestly such an obvious misstep it's comedic at this point lmao. To release a Hanukkah set 3 days after Hanukkah 😭 It's sad cause I really like those signs and her other cc. I know she changed the release (ALLEGEDLY IDK) but like who thinks to do that in the first place. I don't HATE her. I think people conflate not liking someone's actions to "cancelling" them.

Also I saw she consulted a Jewish simmer which is cool but it doesn't mean other Jewish people aren't allowed to be annoyed or dislike "Llamakkuh". I literally saw a reblog of the main post about it that "oh this one Jewish creator says it's fine and y'all are talking over the Jewish community. The Jewish community says its fine so" which like one person doesn't speak for the entire community???? It's one person????

[elinorasims]

Sul Sul!

| hi my loves,

i’m elinora, or el. i’ve been playing the sims for 25 years (what), and this is the first time I’ve ever joined the online community. *deep breath* HI!

the sims is a passion, as we all know, and it can be a labour of love (and hate lol). i’m an audhder, and although the sims has been a special interest since i was around 6 years old (yikes), the dopamine hit sure runs dry sometimes! i recently took a year off playing with some yucky burnout - joining tumblr is a big part of renewing my love for ts4.

this simblr is for sharing the journey of my ultimate passion project: creating a custom save from a fully empty world.

the plan is to kinda post the journey as it unfolds and hopefully end up with a fully populated custom save file (featuring my own creations, alongside builds from my favourite creators) that you can download if you like when i've completed it! Warming: this might take actual years lol.

i am sUper excited to share my progress with you guys! i’ve never shared any of my Sims life publicly before but i’ve seen so much love and connection in this awesome community - i honestly can’t wait to get to know you all more here on tumblr.

feel free to check out my pinterest board for this project, too! you can also find me on the gallery @eliwils. i also run a wordpress blog for my non-sims art and poetry.. if you’re into that kinda thing check it out here :3 it's.. sporadic at best rn lol.

| dag dag fn. <3

WCIFT?

You’ll find pages for my resources (mods, defaults, etc.) and downloadable tray files for all my personal builds and households here.

My builds (and lots by other Simmers on the gallery) will not contain CC. Despite my experience, I am still learning to build more creatively. I’ll be using real world architecture as inspo and IRL floorplans as a guide to give a sense of realism and 'liveability' aha. Hopefully during the course of this project my build quality and aesthetic will continue to improve!

My Sims, however, will showcase my favourite CC and the creators I adore. I aim to include lookbooks for each Sim in a household and links to download individual CC items as well as feature my favourite/most used creators.

If you see something you love and I haven't mentioned it - please shoot me a message!

ETC..

I try to create Sims with varied personalities, styles, and individual stories relevant to their home world/neighbourhood! Hopefully this means the population will be vibrant and diverse, with a little whimsy and excitement thrown in for gameplay fun.

I mostly use maxis match CC, but there are some alpha textures in my game too, particularly for hair. I try to keep styles fairly consistent so the blend of MM and alpha isn’t jarring - but I am trying to transition more towards MM only CC.

I’m aiming to keep to the 'original’ intended themes for each world as much as possible, but making them more stylised, detailed, and interesting, with some cross-pack elements included to update the worlds slightly and create a more cohesive overall .. universe?

There will probably be quite a long list of CC required for the households in this save once it’s complete. I get that it might be a bit of a pain to get everything I've recommended.. but this is a save I actually intend to play with, and it’s my personal love letter to the game I grew up with.

I’ve always been a huge fan of the creator community. They are incredible, generous and talented humans, and I’ve been an avid CC shopper since The Sims 2. I’d like to show my support for creators I adore in a CC Finds tag. I’ll also post about build/buy items there from time to time even though I'm not using them in this save specifically.

[nyrarachelle-plays]

So, No Woohoo...? The First Night in Their New Home:

Just the sound of water hitting the shower tiles and ceramic tub, soft snores, firewood crackling, and muffled city noise in the distance; (folks not even christening the new house, breaking in the new bed, mmm mm mm!)

Previously. (The Truth Is...) | Next. (Annie, Are You Okay...?)

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth (4x13) | Never Again

He hangs up the phone as his former boss’s scolding rolls around his brain like a boulder. Fired. Fucking fired again. He slams the phone down over and over, tossing the receiver. 

He inhales, frustrated. The air in his apartment, thick with stale cigarette smoke and knock-off Calvin Klein he can barely afford, only further twists the knife.

Loser, she’d said. 

His coworker had called him a loser, right there in the office. Right in front of him, as if he couldn’t hear her. As if he wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t do anything about it. Just like always. Well he’d shown her, throwing the shit from her perfect little desk to the floor, daring her to call him names to his face. 

Daring anyone to call Ed Jerse a loser again.

His jaw clenches. If only it had been Cindy’s desk he’d destroyed. Cindy who he’d screamed at instead of sitting mute in divorce court as she stuck it to him one more time. The raw skin on his freshly inked arm begins to burn, and in hindsight, the tattoo reminds him of a younger version of his newly-made ex-wife. A permanent reminder of his life’s failings etched five layers deep. How fucked is that?

A banging noise resounds from the apartment below him before a woman laughs menacingly.

“If you were any kind of man, you would have told her to kiss your ass,” the feminine voice mocks. “But no, another woman sticks it to you. Ain’t that right... Eddie.”

What the hell? Only his mother calls him Eddie, and he fucking hates it.

Ed crawls on the floor, presses his ear to the hardwood, listening to the woman below unpack loudly, hearing her ridicule him.

He bangs on the floor, “Hey! I can hear you down there. Hey! Stop it! Shut up! Shut up down there!”

Something dark and dangerous swirls beneath his skin.

It’s always women. Every single one of them. Controlling him, shaming him, emasculating him every chance they get. He can’t stand it, is sick to death of it. There’s a draw he cannot deny, a menacing pull that tugs on this hatred expanding deep down he can’t quite identify. Like a low simmering, it waits, burning him from the inside. These damn women… 

Sometimes he wants to reach out and just— 

Music blares up through the floorboards. He keeps banging and the song keeps getting louder until he hears a knock at his door.

Some woman tries to suck him into speaking of a God who’s forgotten him. 

“You hear that? She’s trying to drive me crazy,” Ed interrupts.

The religious woman shrugs him off, disagreeing. Telling him he’s wrong. 

“Somehow, she knows what I'm thinking,” he emphatically pleads. “I don’t want to feel it — but they know, like psychics or something, or an implant thing, trying to drive me crazy!” 

When she leaves, the pamphlet she’s given him says, "Are you a Failure?" 

“Mm-mm-mm,” the voice taunts. “You see? Even the Jehovah’s Witness babe won’t waste her time on you. No woman would, and you just sit and take it.” Ed covers his ears with his hands. “Take it like a man.”

A searing headache forms at the base of his skull as sweat blooms across his brow. Why is he so damn hot, so… angry? His head pounds in time with the throb of his tattoo. And that fucking music is too fucking loud!  

Then, like magic, he’s suddenly in front of his disrespectful neighbor's apartment, kicking her door in. He doesn’t even remember how he got here.

“Hey, what are you doing?” she shrieks. “Get out of here!”

It takes all of his willpower to move his feet, but instead of heading out the door, he finds himself stalking towards this stunned woman, his fists clenched tighter than his jaw — as if some invisible force is propelling him forward. Because yes, he hates her, too.

Deadbeat. Loser. Failure. 

He’s heard it all, and he has had enough. No one humiliates Ed Jerse anymore. No, not now. Never again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she yells, backing up, her halting hands outstretched. “Get out of my apartment!”

The room swells with his rage. When the taut string keeping the violence bound within him snaps, Ed lunges.

Ear-piercing music drowns out the sounds of crushing bone and squelching bodily fluid spewing from his screaming neighbor's mouth. 

As if in a dream, Ed is across the room now, watching himself punching, kicking, bludgeoning the blonde woman crumpled to the floor beneath him. Mesmerized, he doesn’t try to stop himself from hurting her. Doesn’t quit slamming the stereo’s remote control against her skull until the blood spatter coats her face and the rise and fall of her chest ceases. Doesn’t restrain himself from shoving her lifeless body into an empty moving box, dragging the heavy blood-stained cardboard down the basement stairs, and tossing the mangled remains of Ms. Schilling into the fiery furnace.

Adrenaline thrumming through his veins, Ed reaches inside the box and pulls out the bloody remote. He is in control now.

“Attaboy, lover,” the familiar voice encourages. “From now on, I’m your right-hand gal. You and me.”

There it is again: the hatred in his head. Only deeper, his mind churning verbal vitriol around his brain like sickness in his stomach. The tattoo pulses painfully along his bicep like a hammering heart, and the fire flares. Sweat beads across his body while the acrid stench of burnt hair and blood sting his nostrils. As he stares wild-eyed into the flames, he can’t help but think that maybe he’s finally not failed at something. Maybe this woman’s voice has been waiting to be heard long before ink bled black beneath his skin. 

“As long as I’m with you, no one will ever hurt you...” 

Ed looks down at the bright lines of his tattoo’s smirking face and wonders if this is what reclaiming his life feels like. 

”Never Again.”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@monikafilefan

[kiaminiplays]

get to know a simmer tag

no one tagged me but I figured it would be a nice lil introduction to me so i'm doing it anyways <3

1. Whats your favorite sims death?

Probably by laughter just because of the shock value I get cause I always forget sims can die that way lmao.

2. Alpha cc or mm?

Baby, I'm mixing everythinggggg. Sticking to just one thing has never been me and why not have the best of both worlds?

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight?

No. It's never been that serious. It's just another way for story-telling like seeing my sims gain happy relationship weight, etc.

4. Do you use move objects ?

I wouldn't ever play this game if it didn't exist lol

5. Favorite mod?

Lumpinou's mods are literally phenomenal, I also like Wicked/Wonderful Whims for the attraction system and the buffs/pop-ups. Other than that, I like the newer self care mods that are coming out like the functional clutter kit by Cepzid, etc.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got?

I'm pretty sure it was Seasons. Which, duh?

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing?

LIVing, the other way feels awkward to me but hearing it either way doesn't bother me.

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? 

Currently a celebrity sim I made for an upcoming gameplay series, my god, I snapped lmao. keep a lookouttttt

9. Have you made a simself? 

I have....attempted. It freaks me out cause I forget what I look like lmfaooo

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? 

I always have the More Traits in CAS mod sooo: loner (introverted), creative, hates children (don't come for me, I'm team ftk lmao), geek, book lover

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? 

The new true black they added awhile ago. I always hated that blue-black swatch with a burning passion lol or the new platinum blonde

12. Favorite EA hair? 

Baby I couldn't name one cause I never use them lmao. The waves they added for the guys is pretty cute though

13. Favorite life stage? 

Young adult for sureeeee. Adult too, I guess, considering there's really no difference between the two at the moment.

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? 

I'm a CAS creature, ngl. But I enjoy playing all three.

15. Are you a CC creator? 

Nope. My brain cells cannot compute it lmao. I wish I was!

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? 

Also nope! But it's legit my third day out here so I'm not pressed. Excited to make some in the future!!

17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) 

4.....put the pitchforks and torches downnnn! I do have 3, but I hardly play it.

18. Do you have any sims merch? 

No, and will never buy any <3 EA has enough of my coin

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? 

I do! It's kiaminiplays as well and just kiamini on Tiktok/the gallery. The content is coming soon!

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? 

Chileeeeeee. I've been doing makeovers from sims I had in my library in the beginning and. the horror. omfg. But before I used to only be an Alpha girlie and now I use both so my sims can look cohesive with the game. I'm too lazy to make a save file all alpha.

Other than that, I love seeing sims have individual styles and be diverse so I try to make them each different and same thing for my builds.

21. Who’s your favorite CC creator? 

Wish I could list everyone, but heres some I don't think I could live without lol:

camuflaje, ceeproductions, gorillax3, greenllamas, jius, joancampbell, khadijah551, madlen, northernsiberiawinds, okruee, sheabuttyr, serenity, sentate and so much more.

22. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? 

City living, hands down. I can't remember any save where my sims haven't lived there for a bit. So now that we can edit the windows I'm obsessed all over again. I think For Rent might eventually give CL a run for its money just because we can create our own rental lots now.

[saturntrait]

Heyyyy...

So I'm finally back from my LONG hiatus and have gotten my first semester of college kind of figured out. I had to switch from my usual desktop PC to my (poor) mac and that has been ROUGH (basically just me having to completely restart my cc folder and repeatedly thanking the gods of Sims tray importer for helping me). I've been getting into making more MM sims (I used to be a hardcore alpha simmer, no hate, just changed) and I've been actually playing with a legacy fam (for those of you who know me, you are probably shocked but I'm actually doing it). Long story short, If I can find the motivation, I want to start posting the sims I make on here! So here's to hoping in the new year, I stick with it!

[fujipixels]

i ... wanna start a mm sims 4 save. ew omg i cant believe i just said that outLOUD.