#sc: chip

[ourgoldenpath]

advertisement announcing the bigger bodies , two hoppys are better than one if you asked me

[snailstrees]

i love u teeth man n cartoon enby

[pippytmi]

Hi!! For the Kacy Post Breakup AU stories. Do you still taking promt?? Please can you write "i found the ring when i was moving my stuff out of your apartment and now everything makes sense”?? But Kate found the ring, Kate broke up with Lucy the reason is up to you. Love the ones you already write, thankkk yoouu 🫶🏽

“Theoretically—and I do mean this theoretically, I can’t stress that enough—would you be able to one: procure a pair of bolt cutters, and two: meet me somewhere in twenty minutes? Just think about it. As a purely hypothetical situation.”

Lucy has to stifle a laugh into her fist as she patiently listens to Ernie’s dramatics. “As much as I want to come free you from wherever you’re chained up—”

“I said in theory—”

“—I have a thing,” Lucy says. “Um. With Kate?” To call it “a thing” might be a complete oversimplification, but Ernie gives an understanding hum on the other end of the phone.

“I can be there in five minutes. Okay, like twenty-five minutes. And I can be a buffer, or a distraction, or someone to stare her down all night. Whatever you need.”

Lucy turns the corner and sees Kate Whistler waiting on her doorstep, and the tell-tale pang in her chest briefly makes her falter. “No, it’s fine,” she remembers to answer. “I have to go, though.”

“If you’re sure,” Ernie says, sounding entirely unconvinced. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Lucy mumbles, and she shoves her phone into her back pocket as she carefully approaches her apartment. Kate is still standing there—stiffly out of place with suitcases at her side—but she somehow still straightens up even more when she notices Lucy. “Hey,” Lucy calls, a touch confused. “You didn’t let yourself in?”

“I wasn't sure if you wanted me to,” Kate says, awkwardly pulling at the strings of her hoodie the way she does when she is uncomfortable. She takes a step back when Lucy brings out her keys, obviously trying not to hover, and Lucy sighs.

“I don’t care, whatever,” she says, ushering Kate in with a halfhearted flourish when the door clicks open. “Just ignore the mess, I haven’t cleaned or anything.” Work has actually kept her from being home very often beyond to sleep, so she knows her apartment will be a little bit in disarray.

To Kate, it must be a war zone; she has always been a neat freak (in the most endearing way). Lucy has to step over a stack of Amazon packages to even get inside, and she knows that Kate will zero in on everything else Lucy hasn’t cleared out yet: the takeout containers on the coffee table, the jackets strewn over the chairs, the abandoned folders and posters all over the couch. 

Lucy is used to it, though, and she walks right in whereas Kate seems to freeze. “Do you want a drink?”

Kate does a double-take, snapping out of her stupor. “Sorry?”

“A drink,” Lucy repeats. “Do you want one?”

“I…think it would be better to do this sober,” Kate says, brow crinkling, and Lucy has to pause to work out what the hell Kate is talking about.

“What? No, I meant like water. Or Gatorade,” Lucy amends. “Actually, I might only have Gatorade.” It’s a whole thing—some new sponsorship her agent had set up which led to a whole crate of the stuff being shipped—and now Lucy has way more than she can drink.

“I'm okay. But thank you,” Kate says, formal to a fault, and Lucy resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“Okay, well, you can…get started. I’m going to be doing some work in the kitchen if you need anything,” Lucy says.

Kate rapidly nods. “Right. Of course,” she says. “I’ll be as quick as I can. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Yeah. No, totally.” Lucy has actually cleared her entire day just for this, but she doesn't say as much. It is much easier to hide away and pretend she's reading a script instead of, you know, waiting for her ex-girlfriend to pack up all remnants of their relationship.

Even without watching her do it, Lucy knows Kate is probably working efficiently and effectively to erase all traces of happiness from this apartment—their apartment. Kate had never officially moved in, but it was still theirs, and Lucy sees her in everything: in the framed print of The Great Wave off Kanagawa, in the uneven coffee table they picked out from a flea market because it was so beautifully hideous, in the old, torn couch where they had exchanged I love yous for the first time.

(That fact may have also influenced Lucy’s choice to spend as much time as possible at work. Maybe.)

Speaking of work…Lucy begrudgingly takes a seat at the kitchen table to pretend she is doing some. At the very least, she can do the boring task of clearing emails from her agent. Also, she should probably check and make sure Ernie is alive.

About an hour into rewatching Gilmore Girls, Kate shows up in the doorway, wringing her fingers together anxiously. “Sorry to bother you,” she says, as if she can’t hear Lorelai Gilmore’s voice from Lucy’s laptop, “but do you know where my backpack is? The one I use for hiking?”

Lucy blinks. “Uh, I’m not sure.” Kate is the person who normally knows where everything is. Even in Lucy’s apartment, she has an uncanny ability to find stuff Lucy never can.

“I had it the weekend before…” Kate doesn’t have to finish with before I broke up with you, but Lucy hears it anyway. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. If you find it later I can just come back for it.”

“No, I can help you look.” Lucy pauses her show to clarify, “Just so you don’t have to make two trips.”

Kate’s cautious expression slowly morphs into a slightly crestfallen one. “Right. No, of course,” she says.

“Where did you look?” Lucy follows Kate outside to retrace her steps, and all the while, she curiously takes note of the absence of things Kate has chosen to select as purely hers: the cozy throw blanket off the couch, the snow globe which Kate’s mom had sent over for Christmas, the paper flower which Lucy had folded for Kate and previously was displayed in their only vase.

“Both closets—I don’t remember putting it anywhere else. Did you let someone borrow it, maybe?” Kate heads into the bedroom, zeroing in on their closet, but Lucy is focused solely on Kate’s question.

“Why would I let someone borrow your backpack? It’s not mine,” Lucy says, with admittedly a bit of indignation in her tone, but. Who the hell is Kate to suggest that Lucy would be so petty as to lose Kate’s lame hiking backpack?

Kate glances at her sideways, brow crinkling ever-so-slightly. “I don’t know. I just thought—”

“That I’m going to be that ex who trashes your stuff?” Lucy knowingly fills in.

“No, that’s not at all what I’m saying.” Kate says, and she even looks quite alarmed at the suggestion. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything.”

“Okay, then, don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like I’ve kicked your puppy or something!” Lucy presses her fingertips against her temples.

Kate opens her mouth, then dejectedly shuts it. After a beat she mumbles, “I wasn’t trying to.”

“Well you are.” Lucy has to turn away, and she busies herself with digging through the pile of clothes at the bottom of the closet to see if somehow Kate’s backpack is buried underneath. It isn’t, but Lucy does find the script she had been searching for since last month, so it’s still a win-win. 

“I can get another one,” Kate says suddenly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Sure, whatever you want,” Lucy says, kicking a parka out of the way as she wanders into the adjoining bathroom. “Is that the last thing you need to pack?” Already, all of Kate’s toiletries are missing. Lucy has to bite her lip to keep from doing something stupid like tearing up at the sight of her toothbrush all alone; the absolute last thing she needs to do is start breaking down when Kate is right outside.

“Almost,” Kate’s voice rings out hesitantly from beyond the door. “I have to finish sorting out my clothes.”

Lucy pokes her head out to briefly advise, “Check my drawers, I might have stolen a few of your shirts.” Selfishly, she wants to hang on to anything of Kate’s that she can, but she is making an effort to be practical. If she keeps on wasting her nights getting drunk and crying into that sweater of Kate’s that still smells like her, Lucy will never actually get over Kate. And she has at least promised Ernie that she will try.

Kate starts opening the drawers of the nightstands; Lucy can hear them open and shut. Lucy continues to peek about the bathroom until she has no reason to, and she begrudgingly makes her way back into the bedroom prepared to fake a call and escape back to the kitchen.

But when she walks in, Lucy is immediately immobilized at the sight of Kate standing stock-still in the center of the room—eyes wide, skin eerily pale—and in her hand is the ring box that Lucy forgot she hid in the top drawer of her nightstand.

“Oh fuck,” Lucy breathes out, her mouth forming words before her brain can interject. “That…is not what it looks like.”

Kate rapidly sets the box down on the bed, hand trembling all the while. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It just fell out. It—” She stops, sags backwards until she is leaning against the wall, her usual stoic façade completely melted away into pure disbelief. “You were going to propose?”

This time, there’s no stopping the tears when they spring to her eyes, but Lucy still wipes at them anyway. “I loved you, Kate,” she says thickly, her heart beating fast in an unbelievably painful manner. “What do you think?”

“I thought—” Kate audibly swallows. “You told me you never wanted to get married.”

Lucy shrugs limply. “Well, you do,” she says. “Obviously not with me, but..."

Kate goes silent for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks at last, and her voice quivers like she might cry, which makes absolutely no sense.

“How could I?” Lucy scoffs. “Did you want me to stop your little spiel about ‘not fitting in each other’s lives anymore’ to say ‘hey, Kate, I actually want to propose to you. Can you maybe reconsider breaking up with me?’” 

“It would’ve explained a lot, Lucy,” Kate says, stricken. “This whole time—is this why you were acting so weird?”

“I wasn’t acting weird,” Lucy says defensively.

Kate doesn’t seem to be listening. “I thought it was about your job,” she goes on, almost as if to herself. “I thought you were regretting everything.” Her cheeks glisten with silent tears, and Lucy’s stomach flips in on itself.

She doesn’t know what she’s feeling at first. Initially, Lucy assumes it’s devastation, her chest so tight with it like she might finally burst into sobs. But then she realizes it’s anger, white-hot and all-consuming, and when it explodes it comes out as:

“You didn’t even try to talk to me? If I was acting weird, fine. I don’t agree, but let’s say I was.” Lucy begins to pace, because otherwise, she might actually start crying hysterically. “Why wouldn’t you ask me what was going on?”

“I did,” Kate says softly, too softly. “You said it was work.”

Lucy pauses. “Okay, maybe that one time,” she allows. “I don’t see how that leads to dumping me.”

Kate pushes off the wall, her gaze so sorrowful and pained that Lucy has to cross her arms and pointedly look away. “I was holding you back,” she says plainly. “Your career is taking off, Lucy. You’re so famous now you get recognized every time you leave the house. I’m still a dropout law student with no idea what I’m doing in life.”

“I never cared about that.”

“But I do,” Kate says desperately. “That’s why I…that’s the only reason why I wanted to break up. It was never because I didn’t love you.” Kate has moved closer, maybe inadvertently, but Lucy jerks backwards all the same.

“It’s too late,” Lucy says—realizes. “You can’t tell me that. You’re leaving. You chose this! Kate, you—you decided to break my heart instead of trying to make this work. How do you expect me to feel?”

Kate’s hands go immediately to her hoodie strings. “I know,” she says. Twists the ends between her thumb and forefinger. “If I could take it back—”

“You can’t,” Lucy cuts her off. “You ruined it.” Her frustration is the tipping point: the tears come and they’re not pretty, hot and stinging and absolutely ruining whatever makeup she has worn today. “I’m going to go, okay? I’m going to ask Ernie to pick me up and you can just—just let me know when you’re done.”

“No, I…” Kate shakes her head. “I’ll go. Um. Don’t worry about the rest of my stuff.” She zips up her half-empty suitcase and haphazardly yanks it along, lingering briefly only by the doorway like she wants to say something else before she leaves. Lucy can see her struggle; her jaw clenches and unclenches until finally she says, “I’m sorry.”

Lucy exhales, recognizing at once she only has one chance to ask what has been bugging her this entire time. “Kate,” she says, to stop her just for one second. “Would…would you have said yes?”

Kate gazes at her so sadly that when she smiles, barely there, it is as surprising as it is heartbreaking. “Of course I would have,” she says quietly.

And without even waiting for Lucy to say anything—perhaps realizing that she won’t—Kate is leaving, and Lucy is letting her. If this was a movie, Lucy would chase her out the door; maybe get down on one knee anyway, and wait for Kate to finally accept their happily-ever-after in whatever form it takes.

But this isn’t a movie, and there is no black and white ending which will ever really satisfy them both. So Lucy sinks down onto her bed, cradles the ring box in her palm, and begins to mourn a life that was never hers to begin with.

[aeb-art]

i… i don't remember drawing this 😭

geo belongs to @8um8le

[orangetintedglasses]

( sup y'all I'mma do some dishes and then come back to work on drafts! )

[13thpythagoras]

sinstagram

[copyrightcreep]

new intro post fuck it

hi! we're the MoonCollective. we're a system of 20 headmates. collective name is Moon, collective pronouns are they/them. so if you're ever unsure of who is fronting, those are a good bet. reblogs are usually untagged, unless we want to add specific details. text posts are tagged with name(s) of who made them. heres a list of names to expect: Ailen, Aziraphale, Bark, Chips, Crimson, Dempsey, Emma, Hermeaus Mora, JJ, Jason, Jax, RazorRed, Regina, Robynn, SpaceCore, 13/Thirteen. now there are a few names missing and those are the kids. we wont be revealing their names or anything else. both chips and Robynn have their own blogs! @justarandompersonxd and @thedevilturnedangelturnedhuman

[neutrinojem]

(via "At Neutrino Jem, I strive to create art that captures the imagination. With a passion for science-fiction, technology, and the exploration of space, I bring these elements to life through my work." iPhone Wallet for Sale by NeutrinoJem)

[yg-trollsonme]

Landscape Charleston Inspiration for a large transitional full sun side yard gravel vegetable garden landscape.

[kateschi]

surprise delivery: husband edition!

synopsis: when you're just chilling after a rough mission, your husband makes an appearance to make your day better.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the day is brutal. patrols, villain takedowns, and media interviews—being a pro-hero means long hours with little time to breathe.

as you finally step into your shared apartment, all you want is to crash on the couch and shut out the world for a while. the second you close the door behind you, your hero jacket hits the floor with a thud.

just as you start making your way to the kitchen, the front door swings open, and in walks bakugou katsuki, your husband, still in his full hero gear.

his mask is off, revealing that ever-present scowl, though you can tell by the slight sag in his shoulders that he’s had a long day too.

"hey," he grunts as he kicks the door shut behind him, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you. in his hand is a plastic bag, the familiar sound of crinkling bringing a small smile to your lips.

"katsuki," you greet, raising an eyebrow. "didn’t expect you back so early. thought you were still on patrol."

he throws the bag onto the kitchen counter with a huff. "got a break. figured I’d check in on you. heard your last fight was a pain in the ass."

you smile despite yourself. "it was fine. nothing I couldn’t handle."

he shoots you a look, his eyes narrowing. "yeah, yeah. you say that every damn time, but you look like you’ve been through hell."

"you’re one to talk," you shoot back, gesturing toward his own disheveled appearance.

his hero suit is scuffed, his gauntlets still covered in dust from whatever explosion-filled chaos he’s left behind. "looks like you weren’t exactly on a peaceful walk yourself."

"I handled it just fine," he says, waving off your concern. "anyway, shut up and look in the bag."

amused, you walk over to the kitchen and peek inside. to your surprise, it’s packed with your favorite snacks—energy bars, flavored drinks, and even a bag of those chips you always crave after a tough day.

you pull one out, giving him a teasing look. "you got this for me?"

he crosses his arms, looking away with a grunt. "don’t get all mushy on me. you’re not invincible, and I’m not gonna let you crash and burn because you’re too stubborn to take a break."

your heart warms at his blunt words. it’s such a katsuki thing to do—care deeply but cover it with his tough, no-nonsense attitude. "thanks," you say softly, popping open a drink. "I needed this."

he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks tainted a barely noticeable pink, "damn right you did."

you both lean against the kitchen counter, sharing a quiet moment as you sip your drink. the silence isn’t awkward—after years of working as pro-heroes and being married, you’ve grown comfortable in these rare moments of peace together.

still, the concern for each other is ever-present, unspoken yet deeply felt.

"how’s your arm?" katsuki asks suddenly, his sharp eyes scanning over you. you look down, realizing he’s talking about the burn you got in your last battle.

"it’s nothing," you reply, brushing it off. "just a scratch."

"bullshit," he mutters, stepping closer and taking your wrist gently, though his grip is firm. he inspects the burn with a scowl, clearly not pleased. "you’ve gotta be more careful."

you smile up at him. "and you’ve gotta stop blowing up everything in your path. not everyone can walk away unscathed like you, mr. dynamight."

he grunts, letting go of your wrist. "I’m not the one who got singed." his brow furrows slightly, a rare moment of softness crossing his features. "you know I hate seeing you hurt."

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a second, the busy world of pro-hero work melts away. in moments like this, it’s easy to forget how explosive and brash he usually is.

beneath all of it, he’s someone who cares deeply for you, even if he has a funny way of showing it.

"I know," you say gently. "but I can handle it."

he scoffs but doesn’t argue, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. "I know you can."

just as you’re about to make another playful comment, his phone buzzes, breaking the peaceful moment. katsuki glances at it, his expression darkening in annoyance.

"damn it. I’ve gotta head back."

your heart sinks a little, though you know this is just the reality of being heroes—time together is always cut short. "already?"

"yeah," he mutters, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "heroes don’t get long breaks." he hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. "but listen, don’t go out on any more patrols tonight. you’ve done enough. rest."

you raise an eyebrow. "you know I don’t need you babying me, right?"

"yeah, well, too bad," he shoots back with a smirk, pulling you closer by the waist. "I’m your damn husband, and I say you’re staying home."

you roll your eyes, leaning into his chest. "bossy."

"it’s for your own good, y/n; you know that," he mutters, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "so, take a break. eat the snacks. watch some tv, I don’t care. just… don’t go bein’ reckless while I’m not around."

you smile, warmed by the concern under his rough words. "fine. but don’t come back looking like you’ve been through a war zone, okay? I’d like my husband in one piece."

he smirks, his signature cocky grin spreading across his face. "please. it’ll take more than a couple of lowlife villains to take me down."

with that, he steps away, grabbing his gauntlets and heading toward the door. but just before he leaves, he turns back, his voice softer but still carrying that familiar bite. "save me some of those snacks, yeah?"

you chuckle, nodding. "yeah, yeah. go be a hero."

he huffs, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "try not to miss me too much."

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[sprinklecipher]

I’ve still got an interesting mystery on my hands: is this one of the models of the Barbie typewriter that actually features cipher functionality (when not broken, anyway)? I decided to look into it!

My typewriter is a variant of the E-115, and, according to the Crypto Museum, some versions of the E-115 have the encoding/decoding functions but not all of them do. For example, YouTuber Sarah from Just My Typewriter has an E-115 that doesn’t feature the cipher modes, although notably this typewriter features completely different stickers/paint detailing than hers does, which makes me think that mine is likely a different E-115 variant than hers.

Sarah’s (Just My Typewriter) E-115 typewriter’s detail pattern (screencap from The Singing Banana’s video, link), vs the details on my typewriter:

I couldn’t find any information about Barbie typewriters with this specific paint/sticker pattern anywhere online, so it’s unclear whether this could be a cipher-capable variant model. Ideally, I would test the typewriter directly to find out, but since that isn’t an option here, I’ve got to be a bit more creative to come to a solid conclusion. Fortunately, there are a few clues to go off of.

1. Troubleshooting Guide

First, in addition to the original box, my typewriter came with a one-page troubleshooting guide from Mehano. One of the sections on it is about what to do if the wrong character is printed when you press a key. If the typewriter had the encryption feature built into it, you would expect that the guide would tell you how to deactivate that function (SHIFT + LOCK + $). Instead, however, the guide just suggests checking the power supply, turning the typewriter off and on, or checking if the daisywheel might be bent. This makes me suspect that this typewriter didn’t have the cipher functionality.

2. Roller Text

One notable thing about my typewriter is that the paper roller (apparently, the proper term is “platen”?) is covered in text, a large majority of which seems to be random nonsense. It looks like the result of a child pressing random keys, but, in the absence of much else to go on, it’s worth checking to see if there’s any indication that the “random” strings of characters might have resulted from a cipher mode being turned on.

I wrote a Python program a while back to encode/decode text into all of the different Barbie typewriter ciphers, so I ran all of the text on the paper wheel through that. None of them yielded any new words when “decoded”, so it definitely seems they were simply the result of a bunch of key smashes (i.e., no evidence of ciphers here).

3. Computer Chip

Lastly, I can look at the chip inside of the typewriter.

Here’s an example of an E-115 chip for a model that DOES feature the cipher functionality (pic via Crypto Museum):

And here’s the chip from Sarah at Just My Typewriter’s e-115, which does NOT feature the cipher functions:

And then here’s my typewriter’s chip:

I’m not going to pretend to know the finer technical details about circuit boards, but I can read, so it stands out to me that the text in the bottom-right corner differs across the three models. The cipher-capable model on the Crypto Museum website says “rev. A”, Sarah’s NON-cipher-capable model says “rev. B”, and my mystery model says “ELATEC”. I’m not sure why mine doesn’t feature the “rev” part, but I suspect it might be a “late” C variant of the typewriter, which would mean it was likely released after both of the other two models mentioned.* If that’s true, it’s very unlikely that it would feature the cipher functionality, as why would they reimplement a non-advertised feature after previously taking it out?

Conclusion

So, all in all, the evidence suggests this specific variant of the E-115 likely doesn’t feature the cipher modes (although I really wish I could test that directly!).

*Post-script: After writing this post, I noticed that Sarah’s typewriter features an earlier version of the Barbie logo than does mine (1991 - 1999 for hers vs. 1999 - 2004 for mine), suggesting that mine was indeed a later model.  Source: https://looka.com/blog/barbie-logo/

I got a Barbie Typewriter!

After a couple years of searching, I finally managed to get my hands on a Barbie toy electric typewriter! 

For the unfamiliar, a neat aspect of Barbie typewriters is that some models have built-in cipher encoding and decoding modes, which, due to some quirks in how the typewriters were developed and marketed, were not advertised as features, so the cipher functionality was basically secret!

These days, the old school Barbie typewriters are relatively rare and usually pretty expensive, although the one I got was actually fairly cheap, due to being in somewhat rough condition. It unfortunately had quite a bit of battery corrosion, so it was untested and sold to be a “display piece”:

It even came with the original box (although it is certainly a little worse for wear lol)

The battery compartment was absolutely filled with corrosion residue, and traces of it had spread across the whole typewriter—it was everywhere!

I’m no expert in electronics, but I know that the presence of battery corrosion doesn’t necessarily mean that a gadget is broken beyond all repair, so I decided to try to see if a thorough cleaning could possibly get it working again.

So, I cleaned up the battery compartment with vinegar, took the whole back of the case off and wiped out the inside of it (which was coated in a thin layer of corrosion dust), and finally popped in some new C batteries. Then came the moment of truth, flipping the power switch!

And…nothing. Darn. 😔

Ah, well, it’s still a very cool display piece, and I’m happy to have it!

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[johnbrand]

Normal, SC

With @mrrharper

Officer Justin O’Shaughnessy reluctantly hopped into his patrol vehicle. He had been transferred out of South Carolina’s capital to the tiny town of Normal, population definitely under a thousand. When Justin had enlisted to the new town, he had not dreamt of it being so traditional. Less than 45 minutes away, Columbia had a thriving queer community that Justin and his boyfriend were well involved in. Even their police force was welcoming. But this new position in Normal felt anything but.

Before Officer O’Shaughnessy had even entered the building, he already received sideways glances. He appeared nothing like the other overly manly men there, his more androgynous appearance colliding with the two genders established by the town. But through his worry, Justin did feel a sense of pride by bringing a bit of diversity to the town, at least in terms of sexuality. And now here he was, on his first assignment with his new patrol route.

Unaccustomed to the height of his new vehicle–a literal truck rather than the typical sedan–Justin took a deep breath before grabbing the keys. His job was easy today. The Chief wanted him to get adjusted to town, harmonize himself with it. “Things work a little differently around ‘ere,” the Chief’s Southern twang sticking out a bit at the end. “The quicker you learn to fit in and be like all the other men, the better.”

It took Justin a moment to figure out how to get the truck started, after all he drove a Prius–wait, a foreign car? Heck no, he only drove American vehicles. Shaking his head, Justin started the engine and pulled out of the station. He was feeling confident, the Chief’s words flashing through his mind as he began his patrol.

Unsurprisingly, there were not that many streets in town to check out. The main road, the side roads, the business versus residential roads. It was not anything like Columbia, that beautiful, expansive, expensive, crowded, woke wasteland. Nah, Justin liked the speed of this town a lot better. It was quaint and slow, everything moved at its own pace. It was not influenced by those protests or silly parades.

After a while, Justin decided to pull over to stretch. His body was already aching, although he could not explain why. He had kept himself slim over the years through marathons and–running? Justin chuckled to himself. Yeah right! He worked out at the local gym everyday, pumping each of his muscle groups to their fullest capacity. He wanted to be big after all, just like all the other guys on the force. So he must have been sore from the nightmare of a workout Chief had dumped on him earlier to get a gauge of his abilities. Justin had perfectly met the average.

Justin peered at the time from his dashboard when he reentered the truck, noticing it was already time for his lunch break. Excited, he pulled out his bag and started grabbing items. Tomato sandwich, baked veggie chips, hummus…wait, was this his lunch? He went through the items again. Thick club sandwich with extra meat, two bags of potato chips, can of cheap beer. Yeah, that seemed a lot more appropriate. A real man needed to eat a real man’s lunch after all. Justin was relieved his wife had not packed him some vegetarian or vegan bull crap.

Justin paused for a moment, demolishing his meal before starting the truck up again. He had a wife? Well sure he did! Just about every man in town had one. He fiddled with his ring finger subconsciously as he daydreamt about his beautiful bride. Eventually, Justin began fiddling with the plumper, bloated “finger” in his pants too as he daydreamt about his beautiful bride. What was her name again? Marcus…Markie…Margie! Lovely, pregnant Margie.

Justin refocused on the job at hand, he was to become a father soon after all. All the other men in the small town were already dads, and he was slacking! He was about to turn 24 and had no kids to show for it. Luckily, he was spared with some mature masculine features. Justin had grown out a beard as soon as he could, and a fluffy mat of body hair only accentuated this fact. Of course, he was not mature all the time. He had no problem roughhousing and dutch-ovening the other officers–it was just men being men after all!

Justin laughed to himself, waving to a few men as he passed by them. It was funny how all the men in Normal looked pretty similar. Even Justin was fitting the mold. All a couple of inches over six feet; those packed, muscular builds sustained by home cooked Southern meals from the misses; dressed in either similar work clothes, home clothes, or church clothes. Their interests and morals were so well-aligned too. It was like the town had its own personal standard for everyone to follow.

Registering the time once more, Justin sighed…Jared sighed disappointedly as his shift had once again come to an end. Pulling back into his spot in the station’s parking lot, he was not surprised to see all the other almost identical officers fraternizing. 

“Hey O’Shaughnessy, you comin’ to the bar for some beer with us?” one of them shouted.

“You betch’I’m comin’!” Jared confirmed in the same deep, Southern twang. Hopefully the missus would not mind too dearly, he was just being normal after all!

[fruitbasketball]

Do you think uconn wbb has a genuine chance at getting the NATTY? I really want them to win. Especially since it's been years and paige is not staying another year. What do you think their biggest challenge/obstacle would be? And who would you put in the starting five lineup?

Sorry, girl, I just don't have anyone to talk to this about.

i truly believe that uconn has the ability to win a national championship this year if this current roster stays healthy.

i’m not just saying this bc of my loyalties - i genuinely believe it. last season, i told y’all sc would get the natty and it didn’t matter who met them in the championship game - the chip was theirs without a doubt. imma keep it a buck now, too; uconn can go all the way

their biggest obstacle is 100% going to be experience. obviously some other schools struggle with their core not having played that many full seasons of college basketball (booker and harmon at texas, miles and hidalgo at notre dame, juju is still a sophomore at usc) but it’s different when kaitlyn chen is going to be the most experienced player on the court and she’s spent the rest of her career playing for an ivy league school. she hasn’t had the kind of non con schedule or tournament run that a player like paige has had - and paige has only played 2 full years of college ball.

it’s something you really miss with nika and aaliyah being gone - footwork in the post that only comes with time, the way nika can play such smart defense and will herself away from fouling out, the chemistry the two of them had on the court with paige; all of it boils down to experience.

starting lineup:

pg: chen

sg: fudd

sf: bueckers

pf: strong

c: el alfy

i’ve been iffy about starting sarah, but i went back and watched her high school stuff. that girl is a consistent big who has a 3 point shot. i can see geno putting ice at the 4 if he wants that experience factor and to balance out the frontcourt, but i only see aubrey coming off the bench. she’s such a huge spark plug - great at coming into the game and assessing exactly what she needs to do to get her team the win.

i got uconn all the way tho

[logical-grave]

✧ Pretty little thing ✧ Ch. 3

♡ Pairing ♡ - Rafe Cameron x Plus Size!Reader

♡ Warnings ♡ - Smut ofc, angst, asshole!Rafe, Semi-Public sex, unprotected sex (they never learn), dirty talk, crude language, creampie.

♡ A/N ♡ - I'm so sorry i disappeared! I promise I'm trying to do better! Hopefully this fic makes up for it lol. Lmk what you think! Definitely some repeated writing lol but I’m trying to improve!!!

♡ Word count ♡ - 3.1k

♡ Part 1, Part 2 ♡

When I told Rafe of the camera, he shrugged it off and bit into his sandwich, crumbs falling down his chin onto his plate. “Rafe, we could be charged with public indecency. I could lose my job too.” I cross my arms as I look at him. 

He gave me a blank look and took another bite of his sandwich, hunched over it with his elbows rudely taking up the space on either side of him. 

“I’m just not sure what the fuck you expect me to do about it.” He shrugged, tossing a chip into his mouth. He reacted more when I took it upon myself to come over unannounced, but now it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

I hated how nonchalant he was being about this whole situation, and it just spoke volumes at how untouchable he thinks he is. I guess if you’re as rich as he is, you start to actually believe it.

I stared at him in disbelief, annoyance brewing internally. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to record us having sex for a while.” He casually drops and the urge to jump over the kitchen island and choke him surges through me, but I don’t act on it. 

Rafe finishes his sandwich and stands up, placing his plate in the dishwasher before leaning against the counter and looking at me. “If you really want me to get rid of it, I'll see what I can do.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as if he’s being inconvenienced.

I give him a fake smile and grab my keys off the counter. “Was that so hard?” The comment comes off harsher than intended, but he’s pissed me off too much in the past half hour alone, and I’ve reached my limit. I turn the corner of the kitchen, but a chest in my view stops me. I look up, and I’m met with the heavy gaze of Mr. Cameron, Rafe’s father. 

“Hello sir.” I step to the side to allow him to walk past me, and he smiles as he looks between Rafe and I. “Well, who’s this, Rafe?” 

Mr. Cameron places a hand on my shoulder, leading me back closer to my previous position. “She’s my…friend. And she was just leaving.” He says with his arms crossed. Jeez, I’ve never had such a warm introduction. I could tell he wasn’t keen on introducing me to his father, adding to the list of reasons to not be happy with my unexpected visit.

Mr. Cameron turns to me, his eyes shifting over different points of my face as if to determine if I was attractive enough to be in the vicinity of his son. 

“Rose was just about to make some lunch, why don’t you join us?” He asks, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, an underlying feeling telling me it wouldn't be wise to stay. “Thank you, sir, but I should really get going, as I have work soon.” 

I politely declined, soothing the goosebumps that arose on my arm, and I started past him, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me again. “The country club, correct? I thought I recognized you from somewhere.” He inquires and I nod, looking at Rafe and hoping he can hear my soft plea of getting me out of this. 

“I’ll walk you out.” Rafe pushes off the counter and towards me, gripping my elbow, but his father doesn’t move his hand. 

“I insist, sweetie.” He says and I hold back a grimace, my mind connecting him to the club creep that almost got Rafe to risk his membership. “No, thank you. I should get going.” I chuckle dryly, sliding closer to Rafe’s side and Mr. Cameron’s hand drops to his side, giving up his hold on me. “Well, you’re always welcome here.” He winks as Rafe pulls me toward the entrance of his house before I could respond, thankful he did so. 

“You’re hurting me.” I pout as I look at his tight hold on my elbow, the squeeze making me feel like a child being scolded by her parents. He doesn’t let go until we reach my car, the pain subsiding as I inspect my arm for any bruising. 

It hurt less when he held me like that when we were fucking. “Don’t do this shit again,” He wags his finger in my face. “I don’t need you showing up at my house with my fucking family here.” 

I faced him with an angry expression, ready to open my mouth before shutting it. “Got it.” I mutter, my fist clenching around my keys, the dull metal subtly digging into my skin.

The fifteen hundred he had given me the week prior was nice and I didn't want to risk potentially lowering my allowance by opening my mouth. It’s one of the things I know for a fact Rafe hates about me yet, I persist. 

I reach for the handle of my car, beginning to open it until Rafe reaches over my head and shuts it. I turn as he sighs and pinches the skin between his eyebrows before looking into my eyes. “I- Just, my dad is weird when it comes to any girl he sees around me. He thinks they're trying to get money out of all the time.” The corner of his lip upturns as a chuckle sounds from him. 

Slowly, I nod and pull on the handle of my car once more, this time he doesn’t stop me. I sit in my seat but Rafe stands, holding my door open and leaning towards me with his arm resting on the roof of my car. 

“I want to see you later. I’ll meet you down at the dock, one o’clock.” He slyly grins, hooking his finger under my chin like he did not too long ago, pressing his lips against mine. It was a new practice he started and he always initiated. I’ve thought about it, yet when I start to lean in, a big red X appears over his perfectly structured face and I stop myself. Rafe parts from me and I push away his face with a chuckle. “I’ll see you, Cameron.” 

I shut the door and pulled out of his driveway, glancing at him as he watched me go.

—

My fingers crossed through his hair as I ran my nails over his scalp once again. Sometimes, he enjoyed the effortless intimacy of his head in my lap. His arm wrapped around my ass to meet his other arm resting under my legs. I knew the weight of my legs would put his arm to sleep in seconds but he didn’t care. In fact, I think he loved the prick of a million tiny needles in his arm as it fell asleep as long as he got to cradle me like this. 

Maybe I’m just telling myself that. Either way as the yacht slowly rocks from the subtle waves of the marsh, he closes his eyes and we settle into the domestic atmosphere that surrounds us, slightly tipsy from the forgotten bottle of Jack Daniel’s we tossed back and forth.

He sighs, his breath breezing over my thigh as I look down at him, taking in his sharp cheekbones and lips that look ready to be kissed. His hand on my ass cheek twitches, almost as if he was making sure I was still here, even in his supposed sleep. His other hand under my legs moved to rest on the side of my thigh as I gasped softly when he hugged me closer to him. Even now, I wondered how the hard fiberglass base of the boat was comfortable for the rest of his body.

Rafe sighs again, this time his eyes open, blinking the sleep away. He tilts his head up, resting his chin on my thigh and pulling me closer to him again. “Rafe, we should head back.” I suggest, my fingers rake down his scalp and slip under the neckline of his shirt, scratching his back. He groans under his breath, not acknowledging what I had said earlier, instead relishing in the feeling of my nails scraping on the smooth skin of his back. 

I stop, making him open his eyes again and look up at me. He moves up now and I sit back on the heels of my feet as he sidles up close to my side, his hand resting behind me, supporting his weight, his chest close to my shoulder. Personal space, be damned. I turn my head and look at him, my hand cupping his cheek as he stares at me. “What?” I look at him and he shakes his head slightly. I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t had my hand on his cheek. I watch his eyes wander over my cheeks, down to my lips, even lower to my chin and finally my eyes. 

And then, he leans in, pressing the soft plump of his lips against mine. His eyes are closed before mine are and I inhale deeply as we kiss. My skin tingles with his lips against mine, the way he kisses is almost methodical yet sloppy with need. He deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing past the seam of my mouth, licking my tongue with his own when he turns his head a particular way. 

His hand wanders, as it always does to my breast, squeezing me through the lace fabric of my dress, pinpointing exactly where my nipple is, causing it to perk up. The kiss turns wet, our mouths gliding against each other as his hold becomes more insistent. His hand smoothes down my side to my hip before clenching his hand on the lace of my dress and pulling me into his lap, the sound of the small rips of his fingernails digging into lace is lost on both of us. I straddled him now, hiking the skirt of my dress higher up my thighs where both of his hands rested. 

I don’t even acknowledge the anxiety of being too heavy to sit on his lap, his hold feeling so familiar, it’s as if I’m supposed to be here. His lips trail kisses down my jaw to my neck, almost considerate of where he places them. He nuzzles his face into my neck, inhaling deeply as his hands grip the round of my ass cheeks, grinding his crotch against my own. 

“Fuck— I need you.” His voice is breathless, desperate, almost as if he’s begging me. He palms at my ass cheeks again, spreading them open to grind up against me once more, making me gasp at the friction he offers as my clit rubs against the rough denim fabric of his jeans. 

He pushes the rest of my dress up, bunching it at my waist, groaning when he sees I’m bare as he’s requested of me. His eyes are dark again, almost black like an abyss, the lust that’s clouding his mind clearly marking his intentions. Rafe tugs on the strap of my dress, pulling it down my shoulder until it snaps against my skin, the rip of the seams making me gasp softly against his lips. 

He grunted in triumph, it seemed. As if the strap of my dress was a harsh reminder that I wasn’t completely naked yet. “Rafe,” His name is shallow in my throat, making me think nothing more should come from my mouth other than breathy moans, the kind he drew out of me. Rafe pulled down on the top of my dress, exposing my breasts to him, my other strap tearing as well. 

He continues to leave sloppy kisses down my neck before roughly palming my tit and kneading it. He rolls my perked nipple between his lips, his tongue gliding over it in a disrespectful tease and I wince, pulling on his hair, making him smirk. “So responsive…”

Rafe parts from me, tugging off his shirt and discarding it behind himself, his other hand already struggling with his jeans. I sit back on his lap as he hooks his fingers to slide his jeans down to his knees, his cock springing up with a bead of pre-cum running down his shaft. His tip had a purple tint, almost pleading to be taken care of. “See what you fuckin’ do to me?” He groans, his hands pulling my hips to hover over his cock, making me shakily gasp. He winces as he slides the tip of his cock through my folds, splitting them as he taps my clit, making me mewl softly. My nails dig into the tan skin of his shoulders as I slowly and cruelly sink down on his cock. “Fuuuck.”

His arm wraps around my waist as he eases me down until I bottom out, a shudder running up my spine as I feel the slight burn of his cock stretching me out. “Oh, fuck.” I feel myself blush, a harsh breath leaving my lips as he fills me up. Rafe’s hands fall onto my hips, his eyes half-lidded as he looks me over. “Fuck, you look so good sitting on my cock.” He mutters, his hand pulling on the lace of my dress again, the fabric ripping from his harsh grip.

“R-really?” I ask nervously, biting my lip as I whimper softly, my hips moving on their own volition as I ride him. He flexes his hips upward, burying himself deeper inside me as he grins up at me. “Oh, fuck yes..." He murmurs, his thumbs caressing my skin. “Look at how you take me..." 

He’s hurting me, I think. His fingers are digging deep into my hips but it only feels like a slight push, the pleasure clouding my mind doesn’t allow me to register it. Rafe grunts as he straightens up, meeting my hips with an upward thrust, his breathing growing heavier with each one. “Come on, lean back for me.” He pants, his hold on my hips loosening, almost reluctantly to allow me to support myself on my knees.

Leaning back, I give Rafe a better view of his cock disappearing inside me, making him groan at the sight, his bruising grip returning to my hips again. “You look so beautiful like this.” He says in a strangled tone, his hand reaching up to press on the sides of my throat before splaying out on my chest. I let out small gasping pants as Rafe drove into me faster, his arms hugging me closer to him, causing me to arch my back, presenting my tits to his mouth. My thighs burn from being held open so long but I ignore it, too infatuated with his touch. Rafe hums, suckling on one of my nipples as his thrusts become punishing, my head falling back as I feel myself slipping into my orgasm. “Not yet,” Rafe pants, “I don’t wanna stop.” 

His words come out akin to a whine or a desperate plea, enough to make my orgasm attempt to still. My eyes fall onto his as I feel all thoughts of reason leave my mind, my lips opening to speak but the words come out quicker than I realize. 

“I love you.”

My mouth hangs open as I process my words. Rafes expression falters, his pace almost hesitant to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops his head in the crook of my neck, grunting softly as I feel his teeth nip at my skin. His hold on me strengthens, almost painful as he continues to use me for his own pleasure. Rafe lets out a guttural groan as he cums, his hips jerking harshly as he spills into me, his cock pulsing and throbbing as my walls clench around him, my own orgasm crashing with his own. 

Rafe huffs, falling back to rest on the bunch of pillows propped up behind him, his torso glistening with a sheen of sweat as he draped his arm over his eyes. “Off.” He urges, lightly smacking my thigh and I wince as I climb off his lap, ignoring the need to squirm as I feel his cum drip out of me, making me squeeze my thighs together. The bundle of nerves in my stomach begins to rage and thrash internally, the inside of my cheek chewed up to the point of no return. “Rafe, I-”

“I’m taking you home.” His words were final, leaving no room for argument. It’s silent between us, the only sound being the rustle of our clothing as we put them back on and adjust them. Rafe is quick to his feet, walking to the back of the yacht to go to the console area of the boat. I debated with myself whether I should go up there as well and I found myself behind him before I could decide.

The silence between us stretches uncomfortably, his hold on the large metal steering wheel making his calloused knuckles turn white. I walk closer to him, his head turning to look at me from his peripheral vision and I take his look as a warning. I toy with my fingers, sighing as I sit on one of the captains chairs, enjoying the low wake under the yacht as we approach his dock. Rafe shuts off the engine, reaching into the storage box and handing me my keys and my phone, still no words exchanged. He moves past me quickly off the yacht, no regard to make sure I make it safely off myself. 

“Rafe!” I call out, watching his frame still at the end of the dock, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He rounds, his face contorted with anger and he stalks towards me in two simple strides. “You know better!” He huffs, “We agreed to fuck. You just provide a convenient distraction, nothing more.” Rafe cruelly states, towering over me, putting me exactly where he’d like me to be. My chest fills with hurt, his words cutting deep and I’m tempted to wince.

“I slipped up! I didn’t fucking mean it!” Rafe lets out an amused cold chuckle. “Don’t slip up, it’s simple.” 

“Fuck you, Rafe.” I spit out, pushing past him to my car. Rafe scoffs behind me. “You go fuck right off, It’s just going to be a matter of time before you’re on your knees for me again, doing what you do best and gagging on my cock.”

I considered turning around, slapping him and spitting in his face. Yet, I don’t, instead choosing to ignore him and leaving him standing under the same moonlight he told me I looked beautiful under.

[esimsterlookbook]

Natalia Sims 4 CC Lookbook

Meet Natalia! I'll be using her for a sims 4 storyline I'm creating.

Base Sim Info:

Skin: Ddarkstonee Skin N28 Overlay / Lamatisse Olympia Skin / Nesurii Little details / Ok ruee misc face details / Praline Sims Eyebags 21 Zombie / Sammi_xox Nose and Lip Masks / Sims3melancholic Belly mask / Sims3Melancholic Body Highlight 01

Eyebrows/Eyes/Lashes/Teeth: Carol 91 Priscilla Eyebrows /

Twisted Cat Lashes N03 / Praline Sims Heaven Eyes N177 / Yoonie Sims Imperfection Teeth Set

Tattoos: Thatsims4hore Ares Tattoo Set

Makeup: Angissi Lipstick A183 / Veve Bisou Highlighter / Praline Sims Ghost tattoo N15 (sparkly eyes) / Northern Siberia Winds Blush 8 Cheek

Piercings: Aretha Bee Luv Septum / Giulietta Sims Diamond Butterfly Belly Piercing

Everyday:

Hair: Simsenshi Opal Hair + Bows

Outfit: NewEn092 Lace Camisole Top / Belaloallure Madina cargo pants / Darte 77 Vans Old Skool

Accessories/Nails: Babyetears Y2K Star belt / Darte_77 03 Bracelet / Sugar Owl Janice Rings / Oydis Nuit Jewelry Set / Maxi Moons Haylee Nails

Formal:

Hair: Jino Hair N10 Lovelle

Outfit: BEO jumpsuit Rita / Shoestopia Breanna High Heels

Accessories/Nails: Oydis Astrea Jewelry / Christopher067 Elio Necklace / Simpliciaty Elise Rings / Giulietta Sims Long Almond Thin French Tips Nails

Athletic:

Hair: Jino Hair N9 Cherry

Outfit: Off-Line Alo Bralette / Rimings High-Waisted Leggings / Joliebean Charged Shoes

Accessories/Nails: Joliebean Jolie Watch / Jolliebean Peak Performance Basic Socks / GiuliettaSims Multiple Little Hoop Earrings / Aretha Bee Chipped Nails

Sleep:

Hair: Wing Sims ES 0830 Double Straight Hair

Outfit: LazyEyelids jersey sleepwear set

Accessories/Nails: Jius Knitted Socks 10 / Rimings Bow Shape Earring

Party:

Hair: Simpliciaty Karla Hair

Outfit: Belaloallure Fabienne laced top / Belaloallure Shanna Mini chain leather skirt / Shoestopia bapho boots

Accessories/Nails:

Giulietta Sims Mutliple Bangles / Simpliciaty Aubrey rings / S-Club TS4 Bracelet 202013 / Gorilla x3 Heart Charm Necklace / Giulietta Sims Long Edge Gothic Nails

Swim:

Hair: Simpliciaty Abby Hair

Outfit: Trillyke Eternal Sunshine Bikini Top + Bottom

Accessories/Nails: Aretha Bee Jayleen Sunglasses / Murphy x Bradford T True Bracelet / Bobur Bracelet 05 R / Simpliciaty Scarlet Rings / Sugar Owl Perla Rings

Hot Weather:

Hair: Simpliciaty Becca Hair

Outfit: busra-tr Leather Set Top P143 / sc 162 Kelly Short (Pay wall) / Shoestopia Jessica High Heels

Accessories/Nails: Angel Everyday Collection Square Sunglasses / AxA Necklace V1 / Simpliciaty Ziva Rings / S-Club LL ts4 bracelet 202102 / S-Club WM ts4 bracelet 202006 / GiuliettaSims Long Stiletto French Tips Ombre Nails

Cold Weather:

Hair: Simpliciaty Estella V1 Hair

Outfit: LazyEyelids sweater with shirt / Gorilla x3 Minimalist Slacks / BED and Musae Sungsudong Chelsea Boots

Accessories/Nails: Praline Sims Thunder V6 Earrings / Christopher 067 Mahlia Rings / Giulietta Sims Rounded Square Medium Glossy Nails

Thank you so much to CC creators for their wonderful work!