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joojconverts · 4 months ago

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4T3 Conversion of HistoricalSimsLife's CC Catalogue

So… here we are, haha! This is the grand project I’ve been working on for about three months now! I made a promise to all of you, so I’m here not only to fulfill that promise and make a bit of a comeback but also to celebrate reaching the incredible milestone of 3,000 FOLLOWERS!!!

I’m so grateful to all of you for everything that has happened since I joined this community, it’s one of the little shining points of my life, lol. So, let me give back by bringing your sims MORE THAN 150 pieces of CC, including clothes, hairstyles, accessories, and buy mode objects!

You’ve probably already guessed that I have A LOT to say about this set, so please, follow me after the cut! 💖

Hope you like it, enjoy!

In this compilation are included sets, mini-sets and standalone pieces that the original creator made! Posepacks, patterns, mods, and pieces categorized as “modern” are not included! HistoricalSimsLife has a lot of 3T4 conversions, and naturally they're also not included EXCEPT for the ones that are mesh edits (e.g. here and here)! TSM to 4 conversions are also not included, as you can find every item converted to TS3 here by votenga! I also re-converted CC that I had previously converted before, such as the printing press set and the dandy suit!

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I'll link the CC just so you know what I'm talking about!

Known Problems:

Most of the time the sleeping animation that comes with the One With Nature mod looks off when making your sim sleep under the prehistoric lean-to shelter. I'm not sure why but instead of sleeping horizontally they sleep vertically, so they clip with the branches that are on the floor. Two times while I was testing they slept horizontally tho, so I'm not sure if I can fix it. Sorry!!

The drawer (chest) of the Kativip Library set doesn't have an animation!

The telescope's eyepiece looks a bit off when a sim is using it. The way the mesh is made is very different from ts3's telescopes, and it would be quite hard to make it looks seamless and also it wouldn't look good, as ts3's telescopes all look kinda silly imo hahah. Hope you don't mind it very much!

The celtic cape might clip depending on the clothes being used and the animation being played!

The round weave rug of the Rustic Living Set generates some white lines when zooming really far out. I thought it was UV map, but I tweaked it and they're still showing up. It's only apparent if you look closely tho!

LIGHTING GLITCHES ONLY APPEAR ON CAS!

* Note that teens and elders have neck gaps. This is sadly the price for having them available! For teens, try using this and this slider by gruesim!

Please let me know if you find any problems!

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ALL OG CREDITS GO TO @historicalsimslife, Kativip and EA/Maxis! IT'S NOT MY MESHES, AND IT’S NOT MY TEXTURES, I JUST CONVERTED THEM TO THE SIMS 3!

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Buckle up now...

NOTES & INFO:

The whole catalogue is quite low-poly and gameplay friendly, so don’t worry about that!

The whole catalogue is categorized into folders once you extract the zip, so you can pick and choose if you're playing in a specific era!

The buy mode items have collection files so you can find them a lot easier (except for the crib, the map painting and the aztek sink)! Just put them inside your "collections" folder in ts3's documents folder!

I highly recommend using the One With Nature mod by @spheresims while using the prehistoric collection!

The printing press letter plate works as a functional computer, and it's categorized as so!

The printing press desk and chair both have 4 matching presets! They're all different wood presets!

The hollow food storage works as a functional fridge for your prehistoric sims!

The Pile of Rocks cave works as, you guessed it, a cave! Actually no lol, it works as a tent, and your sims can sleep inside! It also has 5 presets, all stone textures, first one is an overlay, the rest is recolorable!

The sleeping underlay works as a sleeping bag! It has 2 recolorable presets!

The Skyrim lean-to has 2 presets! First one has an overlay texture, second one is recolorable!

The prehistoric lean-to shelter has 7 presets. The last one (fur) is recolorable, the others are overlays!

The rustic living set has two bed frames (single and double bed) and two matresses! All you need to do is to put the bed frame first, and then the matress on top of it, now you have two separate objects that can be customized!

The weave rug has 6 recolorable presets!

The round weave rug has 7 presets, and they're all combinations of recolorable and overlayed parts!

Both love seats and both bed frames of the rustic living set have 3 presets, different types of wood! Not recolorable.

The matresses also have 3 presets, they're combinations of overlayed and recolorable parts!

The old map painting has 4 non-recolorable presets!

The aztek sink has 4 presets, and they're combinations of overlayed and recolorables parts except for the last one! It also works as a functional sink!

The two empty boockases of the Katvip library set work as displays, so there are many slots for you to put decor on!

All hats/caps are hat-slider compatible and unissex!

The Dandy Lady hat (renamed it from ts3's hairstyle) has 3 different versions: One with feathers (that I made), one without them, and one without feathers nor decorations (renamed as Gone to Riding Hat)! You need to have V1 installed for the textures of the other two to show up, as they're linked!

The maid dress has 4 different versions (i know the post says 3 but it's 4 lol), as you can see on the preview! They work just like the Dandy Lady hat, above!

The Pirate Dress has an overlay you can find in accessories! Using it with the outfit you can recolor the belt and the buckle! If you don't use the accessory, those parts will just be a usual overlay texture!

You need to use a no feet mesh to use the Boy's 1700s Frock Coat, you can find one here!

The Boy's 1700s Frock Coat has has an overlay accessory, same thing as the Pirate Dress! With it you can recolor the belt, the pockets and the buckle!

The Edwardian Tea In The Garden dress has 6 presets, 5 of them are floral overlays, and the last one is a solid version.

The Regency Morning Dress has 11 presets. First one is a solid version, the last four are patterned overlays, and the rest are recolorable patterns.

The Ester Wedding Dress has 4 recolorable presets, the patterns of the bodice change!

The Simply Rococo Dress has 15 totally recolorable patterned presets!

The Embroided Rococo Dress has 2 presets: the first one is the original texture as an overlay, and the second one is a recolorable version of it (though not as good, since it's a very complicated texture).

The Vintage Men's Exercise Outfit has 6 patterned presets, all recolorable!

The Edwardian Men's underwear and the Edwardian Men's nightgown both have 2 presets, one striped and one solid. Both recolorable!

The Dandy Suit has 9 presets, first one's solid and the rest are patterned, all recolorable!

The Celtic Warrior Outfit has 2 presets. In the first one the plaid is an overlay, original texture. In the second one you can change it however you want using CASt!

The Bodacious Boy Suit has 2 presets! The mask is different, so you can recolour different parts!

The Vintage Girl's Dress With Bows has 8 presets, one of them is a solid version, another one is a recolorable patterned preset, and the rest are patterned overlays!

The Colonial Living Girl's Dress has 5 presets, last one is a solid recolorable version, and the rest are patterned overlays!

The Victorian Tweed Dress Top has 6 presets. The last one is a totally recolorable preset, the other 5 are overlay presets!

The Celtic Dress Top has 2 presets. First one is a long sleeved version, and the second is a vest like top with long sleeved white shirt underneath. Both recolorable!

The Victorian Tweed Dress Skirt has 6 presets, same thing as the top!

The Celtic Dress Skirt has 2 presets. First one has an apron with it, and the second one doesn't! Both recolorable.

I think that’s all haha! Now to the download! <3

G-Drive | Dropbox

☕ buy me a coffee or become a patron!

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Credits & Special Thanks:

@historicalsimslife, Kativip and EA/Maxis for all the meshes and textures! Check out the full catalogue here!

Thank you @deniisu-sims, @suteflower, @sideshowsnob and @twinsimming for the general support (and help, where needed lol) when creating this collection!

💖 @eternalccfinds @katsujiiccfinds @sisilou @darkccfinds @xto3conversionsfinds @wanderingsimsfinds

#ts3 #ts3cc #s3cc #ts3 cc #4t3 #ts4 to ts3 #4t3 conversion #ts3 historical cc #ts3 historical #sims 3 historical #s4tos3

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rafey-baby · 6 months ago

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forbidden fruit 2

Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...

snow white!reader x hunter!rafe

c/w: mentions of violence & murder, one bed (my fav cliche ever!), slightly suggestive, also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.4k

is he warming up to her? #it’s hard to tell

series masterlist

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“Have you ever considered a less...um, violent job?” she asks, nausea coiling in her guts at the mere thought of harming— let alone killing an innocent animal.

The inky sky has turned into an even gloomier hue, and if it wasn’t for the luster of the moonlight illuminating their journey, they wouldn’t be able to see a thing. However, it’s still a challenge for them (her) to evade the thick roots hiding underneath the spongy moss and brittle lichen— she thinks her fingers aren’t enough to count the times Rafe has had to prevent her from toppling over onto the soil with a steadying grip on her arm.

At this point, she can’t comprehend how he even knows where they’re going. She thinks that every rock and tree trunk they pass resembles the last but apparently, he’s using them to track the route to his cabin— something he tried to teach her about two hours ago, but gave up the moment her attention was captured by a tiny squirrel hurriedly scampering off into its hiding spot.

“If I’m bein’ honest, I think killin’ is the only thing m’good for at this point,” he murmurs while inspecting a fallen spruce in the middle of their path.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she argues, rounding the obstacle while he simply steps over it.

“Tha’s cause you don’t know me. Listen, m’not…m’not a good person, I’ve done some, uh, real shitty things, alright?” he looks over to her, gemstone eyes sullen.

She wonders if the real shitty things include other people’s blood on his hands. After all, the queen wouldn’t have asked him to end her life if he’d never done it before. A shiver creeps up her spine when a vivid image of him doing something so remorseless flashes in her mind.

However, it’s soon replaced by him dropping the knife and sparing her life, even if it meant complicating his own.

“I think…a bad person wouldn’t be helping me right now,” her words are honest but he doesn’t offer her a reply, merely flits his eyes over her frame with a furrow in his brow.

They fall into a serene silence, wordlessly treading further and further into the somber forest while she keeps getting distracted by the glittering stars above them; mesmerized by the beauty of something so far away from all the cruelty on this planet.

However, when she goes on to take her next step, the ground (or what she thought was the ground) suddenly cracks underneath her, the partly frozen lid of the pond shattering with a loud crackle— only a surprised squeal leaving her throat when she loses her footing and tumbles right into the frigid water with a splash.

Turns out, it’s not just some small little puddle that’s partly covered by fallen leaves and branches, but a rather deep one; saturating her all the way up to her neck as she gasps for breath when the coldness surrounds her helpless limbs.

“Shit.”

She hears Rafe hiss before humored laughter bubbles from his chest.

“Rafe, this is not funny,” she complains with her teeth chattering when the icy liquid soaks through the fabric of her dress in an instant.

“M’sorry, you jus’ look like a wet kitten right now,” he shakes his head, chuckling as he extends an arm towards her— pulling her up and steadying her with a firm grip on her waist.

“Ow,” she cries out when she leans her weight on her left foot.

“What’s wrong?” he seems almost concerned as he scans her for any visible injuries.

“Think I sprained my ankle, it hurts,” she frowns, reaching for his forearm for balance.

“Of course you did, told you to be careful,” he clicks his tongue, slightly annoyed at the fact that she really is a helpless case. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t know…” she mumbles; face crumpling up when she tries to take a step forward.

“Right, uh, c’mere then,” he huffs out before his hands are on her waist once more and he’s lifting her into his arms like a bag of flour.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“There’s no way you’re walkin’ right now,” he scoffs as he shifts her into a better position before he’s continuing their trek. “What would you even do without me, hm?”

“Probably freeze to death like you said,” she pouts, eyes despondent when she leans into his supportive hold.

“Yeah.”

“M’sorry,” she sniffles, the ache in her foot combined with him being mad at her causing her eyes to burn.

“Shouldn’t be that long ’till we’re there, princess. Think you can manage not to cry before we get there?”

“I don’t know…it hurts and m’cold,” she sulks, feeling miserable, even if she knows she should be grateful she’s not dead or alone in the woods right now.

“You’re a big girl, know you can take it. You’ll feel better soon, yeah?” he attempts to provide her some sort of comfort with his limited knowledge of handling something so fragile.

She hums out something incoherent in response, weak arms wrapping around his neck as she takes in a shaky inhale— damp skin prickling under the chilly air that’s making the leafy trees sway back and forth, reminding her of shadowy ghosts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Uh, think there should be a dry shirt for you here somewhere…” he trails off as he goes through his closet. “This is probably a little too big but should be fine, yeah?”

The cabin is small and secluded; the darkened walls blending in with the rest of the forest and concealing them from the outside, making her feel strangely secure. However, his taste in decor makes her rather uneasy as she tries to desperately focus on the crackling fireplace beginning to warm up her trembling limbs and not the assortment of dead animals and their fur or other body parts on display.

“Oh, it’s perfect, thank you,” she tears her eyes from the elk antlers presented on the wall, offering him a tense smile when she takes the cottony shirt from him; the material surprisingly soft between her fingertips.

However, before he has the chance to leave the bedroom in order to give her some privacy, she timidly speaks up again, words clumsy and hurried. “Could you— um, could you help me undress? This corset is quite impossible to take off by myself…especially now that it’s wet.”

“Uh, right, yeah,” he clears his throat, gesturing for her to turn around before he’s pulling her closer by a grip on her hips, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath their feet making up for the sudden silence.

She doesn’t know why the gesture feels almost intimate or why it makes her hold her breath when he begins to unfasten the strings holding the corset top together, but a strange shade of suspense colors the air around them nonetheless.

“A tight little thing, huh?” he rasps as his fingers deftly work on the satiny ribbons— a process that feels eternal while she tries not to pay any mind to the way her heart keeps thumping louder and louder by each passing second.

When she finally feels the silky material loosening around her middle, she has to will her erratic breathing to slow down as he unhooks the rest of the dress— the fabric forming a pearly white puddle on the floor.

Then, he’s wordlessly slipping his shirt over her head; the sleeves far too long and the hem fitting her more like a short nightgown.

“Thanks,” she swallows before she’s gingerly turning around, lacking the courage of looking him in the eye for any longer than a glance.

“Right, uh, we should get some sleep. You can take the bed ’n I’ll sleep on the floor, yeah?”

And she’s already nodding before the words register in her disconcerted brain. “Wait, no, it’s your bed. I can sleep on the floor,” she argues immediately, momentarily forgetting why she was so shy in the first place when the weight of being an inconvenience builds up on her shoulders.

“Nah, m’not gonna let a fuckin’ princess sleep on the floor. S’fine, jus’ take the bed, I don’t want it. Need to make sure we weren’t followed anyway,” he grumbles, attempting to leave the room once more.

“Rafe, you need sleep just as much as I do. It’s the middle of the night, my stepmother doesn’t even know what you did yet. She’s expecting you to return tomorrow, right?” she tries to reason, not willing to give in because letting him sleep comfortably is the least she can do to even begin returning the favor.

He lets out a weary sigh before shrugging off his jacket, far too worn out to argue. “Yeah, alright, guess you have a point.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

They end up sharing the bed.

And once they’ve both settled into the opposite sides, she’s far too intimidated by Rafe’s disgruntled aura to utter out anything other than a whispered goodnight before it’s quiet once more.

However, as the night stretches on, she begins to grow restless; tossing and turning on the creaky mattress and driving Rafe mad in the process.

She doesn’t mean to, the last thing she wants is to disturb his rest but her thoughts are racing and she can’t seem to close her eyes for more than a few seconds because truthfully, she feels terrible— everything familiar has been turned upside down in the span of a day and the only life she knows has practically ceased to exist. All she wants is to go home but that’s not an option anymore and it’s scary.

“Hey, uh, you good?” Rafe’s sudden drawl makes her flinch.

“Sorry, can’t sleep,” she peeps out, expression apologetic when she twists to face him, causing the sheets to rustle around them.

“Yeah, me neither since you keep movin’ around like a lunatic,” he grumbles, irritation clear in his tone.

“M’sorry. Just can’t stop thinking about everything and I just…I’ve never understood why she hates me so much,” she breathes out, features contorting into something heavy-hearted as she chews on her bottom lip.

He blinks tiredly; movements lethargic when he runs a hand through his hair.

“The queen? Well, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s, uh, not that alright in the head. M’sure you’ve done nothin’ wrong, okay?” he attempts to reassure her, albeit to no avail.

“I just— just feel like...this is all my fault, you know? And now you’re in danger too because of me,” she rambles, not able to let the thought go.

“You don’t need to worry ’bout me, princess. There’s enough people that want me dead already, what’s one more?” he lets out a dry chuckle that makes her frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothin’ just, uh, listen…the worst thing that’s gonna happen is that she’s gonna have me killed when I don’t return, ’n once she finds out you’re still alive, she’s gonna send her soldiers to bring her your—”

“Rafe, that’s not helping. Why would say that?” she interrupts him and apparently, he finds her scowling face to be the most hilarious thing in the world because next thing she knows he’s laughing, sleepy features scrunching up as he shakes his head.

It’s safe to say she does not understand his humor, whatsoever.

“All m’sayin’ is that we’re gonna have to find someplace good to hide.”

“We have to leave the kingdom?” she asks, worried.

“Yeah, think so,” he says, sounding far too impassive for her liking.

“But I can’t just leave, this is my home.”

“I know, but s’gonna be okay,” he murmurs, mouth stretching around a yawn.

“But what if— what if something happens?” she sounds panicked, all the worst-case scenarios bouncing around her skull because she’s never even been this far from the palace. How on earth is she meant to survive in the real world?

“I’ll keep you safe, yeah? Now can you let me sleep?” he lets out a drowsy exhale, seemingly fed up with the conversation already.

“But what if—”

“Shh, c’mere,” he hushes her before he’s tucking her flush against his chest— a heavy palm resting on her thigh to keep her from moving because he’s exhausted and more than aware that tomorrow is going to be a long day, especially with this overthinking princess who he wishes would just shut up.

It’s something he’d tell her outright if he wasn’t certain that she’d start crying all over again in response— the rest of the hike here with her sobs and hiccups thrumming in his ears more than enough for one day.

And the sudden proximity seems to work because instantly, she stops shifting around; nearly stops breathing altogether when she swallows. “What are you…”

“Just, uh, need you to calm down, yeah?” he pats at her hip before she’s clumsily humming out another apology.

And despite the slight trace of the muddy water, her hair still smells of forest berries and wildflowers, making exasperation worm its way into his veins. He doesn’t understand why she’s trusting her life in his hands so thoughtlessly; it’s like she has no sense of self-preservation with the way she’s blindly following him anywhere, when not even a day ago he attempted to murder her.

He wonders if she’s always been like this; naive and dumb, always seeing the good in people, even when there isn’t any. All it took was a few remotely sweet words and she’s already allowing him to hold her this close— a foolish deer resting peacefully next to a starving wolf and expecting not to get hurt.

Momentarily, he gets the urge to just finish the job right now, wrap his arm around her throat until the flame burns out, leaving her eyes dull, lifeless. After all, it would make his life considerably easier. He can almost feel it— the moment her heart comes to a halt in her ribcage as she turns into nothing more than flesh and bones, freeing him from this burden.

And at the end of the day, it’s part of his nature to kill for his own benefit, muscles nearly stinging with the self-serving temptation because that’s what he’s always been; selfish.

“Rafe, that hurts,” her voice is small, nervous, nonetheless forcing him to resurface to the current; his rough fingertips mindlessly sinking into the bare surface of her thigh, harsh enough to leave a bruise.

Her entire form is tense, breathing shallow and limbs unmoving, resembling a rabbit rigid with fear, only amplifying this ever-growing itch under his skin.

He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” a mutter through his teeth before she can finally feel the pressure dissipating— his thumb smoothing over the sore patch while he tries to decide what the fuck he should do with her.

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shiryawashere · 4 months ago

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however on that note, the vindication one feels when one compares steam achievements with one's wife and finds out that she has made all the exact same choices: effervescent

why do I always feel like the choices i make in games lead to some of the worst outcomes

#as far as I could tell at all branching points but one (1) we made the same choice #we got into a fairly heated philosophical debate about the one we disagreed on so I'm glad we don't have to go through more LMAOOO #'but WAS that the bad ending?' 'honey I'm not even sure there is a Good ending'#anyway round 2 I'm going in guns blazing fuck the union fuck the endless royalists fuck Lludd and I'm gonna fuck Aphra let's go lesbians #dread delusion

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errruvande · 6 months ago

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Celebration

Pairing: Kang Daeho x reader

Summery: you had to celebrate the New Year in Seoul, for the first time in many years.

Triggers: PTSD, brief mention of blood

Author note: some random ass Korean names cause we need to call their made up friends somehow lmao

Word count: 2 882

It was yours and Daeho's first New Year celebration in Seoul, to the amusement of your friends, who were dying to celebrate it with you at least once in a lifetime. When the debts creeped in, fast and furious, you found it to be impossible to celebrate the holidays as you had been for a few years of your relationships. And both of yours families found it hard to have you in, after all of the rounds of debt collectors slamming their doors to scare them about your well-being. Your parents were equally scared and embarrassed.

Because of the debts, you could not afford to leave your apartments: parents would've not let you in their houses, and the renting prices even in the smallest villages were too high in that period for you to afford it.

When your friends found themselves too eager and excited about you staying in Seoul, telling you all of their plans for celebration, they were rapidly cut off.

"We will be staying at home all night." You said to your friend, studying the shelf in the store and trying to locate the red and yellow marks amongst the price-tags. You felt your friend pouting with your skin, the air between you two tensing.

"How can you stay home the whole New Year night?" She almost meowed at you in disbelief, putting a pack of mung beans in her cart. "What about the parties? We don't even have to pay to party, the streets themselves are partying! C'mon, you need to have some fun, it's New Year!"

"We'll be having fun at home!" The tone of your voice was unnecessarily harsh, you barked at at your friends without having the time to process your words, and had to look at her meekly. "I'm sorry for that..."

The noise of the supermarket went to the background while you were staring at the bean shelf, spinning around the memories of your only celebration in Seoul before you and Daeho started celebrating New Year in a countryside. Your hand twitched, squeezing the soft pack of fermented beans, as your face turned pale red and the unbothered firm line of your lips turned into a frown.

You shook your head and sighted, putting the beans in your small cart. "We won't be leaving the house, I'm sorry."

Your friends didn't know about Daeho's condition. He never told them and he asked you not to tell them too, he was too embarrassed of his panic attacks no matter how many times you tried to convince him that having them is not embarrassing and it absolutely do not makes him a lesser person. But you didn't need to be asked twice, so all of your friends just thought that both of you were respecting traditions and spending the holidays with your families.

Daeho popped out the living room, tinsels shining in his dark hair like glitter. The way he flew to you, jumping from the spot and sliding on the floor untill he bumped slightly into your body, laughing childishly, a few tinsels falling down his pretty face as he leaned in to give you a tender kiss through laughter. He picked up the bags and carried them to the kitchen, saying that whatever you'll make will be enough, cause he was with you and your presence alone will always be enough for him to celebrate anything.

"Sweetheart, I'm home!" You shut the door behind you, dumping the bags on the floor to take the clothes off. "It's not much, but I'd be able to make something for us to celebrate."

When he said he put his heart and soul into decorating your small apartment for the new year, he meant it. You didn't have a lot of new year's toys, tree balls and the lights, but he did what he could, grabbing a few (all that he could barely fit in his hands) spruce and pine branches from the little forest near your neighborhood and tried to make some arnaments, embodied it with red ribbons and threads. Daeho's hands were in glitter and glue, and now your face was shining too in the places he cupped your cheeks in to kiss you, when you walked into the chicken.

"One thing to go with the decorations!" Soft murmuring of his through your lips tenderized you and you mewled into his mouth pathetically, wrapping your hands around his shoulders tight enough to be able to press your entire body to his.

In one swift motion Daeho lifted you up, rewarding himself with your sweet laughter, and carried you to the tree you had in the living room.

"Take this." He tipped you lower over the little table, to the spot where the handmade star wrapped entirely in the shimmering red ribbon was lying on. You freed one hand from the hold onto Daeho's shoulder and took the star, smiling on the lights playing in the shimmers of the ribbon. "This spot is only for you, love."

He lifted you higher, making it easier for you to place the star on the tip of the tree. Once you put it securely, you felt the tear rolling down your cheek. Even in the hopeless situation like you had been in, Daeho still tried to find small things that would bring joy to both of you.

"You did a great job, sweetie." You looked down at him over the shoulder, sucking your lips in like a child seeing something pretty.

He pulled you down, twirling you around mid action, to see your face adorned with a beautiful smile he fell for a few years ago. You found his shoulders with your palms for balance, and when you felt the ground with your toes, you leaned forward, resting your head on Daeho's chest, the warmth of his body radiating through your cheek.

A few hours later, when a small festive dinner was made, the windows closed and sound proofed and the the zeros lined up on your clocks, you were ready to your own special fun time, when you heard the door knob threshing mad.

"On the New Year???" You tore yourself off Daeho's chest as you were lying on the couch, eyes round darting between Dae's tensed face and the door to your apartment. "Can't they let us be on a New freaking Year night?"

Daeho stood up, taking the first heavy thing he could put his hands on, and ran to the door, checking the guests though the peephole. You saw his posture relaxing as he opened the door lazily. It was your friends. Four of them. Jungheul and his wife Haeun, and Eunji with her new boyfriend you haven't had the chance to meet yet.

They piled into your house, their clothes white with the snow, laughing and talking loudly enough to give you both a mild headache.

"You guys are coming with us! It's not negotiable!" Jungheul wrapped his hands around Daeho and pulled him out of the apartment, asking his wife to bring his coat with her. The screams and arguing wasn't doing anything. The four of your friends were too stubborn and drunk to listen, Eunji's boyfriend threw you onto his shoulder and carried you out to the streets against your will, your screams and your fists beating his back a several times didn't help at all.

"Just stop it!" When he put you on the ground you smacked his chest hard enough for your own hand to hurt, but the guy just chuckled back, gutteral sound graving through you.

Daeho looked equally pissed off, but was too busy looking around frantically, his head turning left and right every time he heard a bunch of people laughing or screaming.

"Jesus, Daeho, it's just people having fun, what the fuck is wrong with you two?" Jungheul laughed merrily.

"There's nothing wrong with him!" You almost ganged up on him, but the sudden loud blowing sound caught all of you off guard. Your friends screamed joyfully and it seemed you were the only person seeing Daeho falling on the ground, face to the snow, his ears covered with his hands. His body tensed, as he was shaking uncontrollably, head bumping into the concrete road with the blowing sounds continuing from kids throwing off the firecrackers under other people's feet.

The one was lying just a few inches away from Daeho.

"Daeho!" You fell on the ground near him, cupping his head in your arms and trying to carefully lift it. "Dae, please, it's me!" When you were able to lift him into a seated position, he ducked his head down into his shoulders, hands still holding ears firmly. The last time he was shaking that bad was exactly the last time you've spent your New Year in Seoul.

With the firecrackers blowing around you, you had zero chances to calm him down. Daeho never lifted his gaze from the ground, his shoulders twitching on every blow, his feet sliding on the slippery concrete as he tried to cringe into the smallest of things, tugging his legs closer to his chest.

"What happened?" Your friends surrounded you, studying panicking Daeho as he was trembling. There was blood on his face from smacking it on the ground a few times, his lip was broken and the brow cut. "What it's like, a panic att-"

You didn't notice how fast you jumped on your feet, staring Jungheul right in the face, your eyes a pit with burning fire as you started yelling at him hysterically. "You either gonna help me or you can fuck off! I told you not to bring him here, but no, you know better!"

You collapsed back to Daeho, sliding your hands between his hands and face in a fruitless attempt to tear them off his ears. "Daeho, you need to listen to me, please."

Everybody went silent. You listen carefully for the noise that had died, the kids ran off to the next neighborhood carrying their firecrackers with them, only leaving the dust and smoked smell in the air behind.

"Dae, baby, they're gone, baby, please." You happened to tear one of his palm off his ear, clasping it in your palms and squeezing, and squeezing, and squeezing up untill Daeho noticed the pain in his fingers and looked at you. "They're gone, everything is fine."

His body still was stiff as a rock, every muscle tense and in agony. He wasn't fully back. You cupped his cheek, guiding his stare back at you.

"Dae, please, what do you see? Tell me what do you see?" You cocked your head on the side and dived down to his face.

"Y-you..." He breathed out barely audibly, after staring at your face for a few seconds. You nodded.

"Great, what else?"

"Eunji"

"Nice, what else?"

Daeho's lips were trembling with every breath, his eyes were moving erratically, trying to catch up on something, but his vision was blurred and his head hurting. "Street light, red car..." He hang his head loosely, staring down at his feet. "M-my boots."

You smiled, caressing his cheek tenderly with your fingertips, as he was slowly coming back to senses. "What you can touch?"

"S-snow" Daeho's arm fell down on the ground, scrubbing the thin layer of snow, snow creaking under his fingers. You looked in his eyes, nodding, waiting for the next thing. He knew this "game" all too well and started searching for the next thing. "I-I can feel you..." Daeho covered your fingers still caressing his cheek with his palm and squeezed them. He look down at your arm and hooked the hairband that was wrapped around your wrists firmly with his finger.

Daeho kept telling what he could feel, what he could smell and hear, his breathing was calming and puls slowing. You could see his eyes clearly, they lost the pale curtains of tears and fear, his lips stopped quivering as he looked around on the last "thing", the one he could taste. "Blood." He winced after tracing his lips with his tounge and catching the blood from broken upper lip.

You sighted, not being able to stop your own tears from rolling down, sanken on the ground without any strength. "Daeho..." You squeled, leaning forward to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and loosing yourself in his chest.

Jungheul and Jiho, that was the name of Eunji's boyfriend as you heard her whispering it to him when Daeho was shaking on the ground, helped Dae to stand up, catching him under the armpits, and led him back to the apartments.

At home, you made Daeho chamomile tea to calm him down fully, sat him down and immediately started treating his cuts, when your friends broke the silence with the cracking, apologetic tone.

"So.. ehm, this is why you're never here on New Year?"

You instinctively looked at them and then at Daeho, waiting for his answer.

"They're already know..." A barely a whisper. He quivered, the words getting lost in the air between you.

"Okay." You breathed out inaudibly, caressing his chin as you pressed the cotton disk soaked in antiseptic to his brow. You glanced over your friends with a sight. "We're going to countryside every year, because there's peace and quiet. You know Daeho was a marine, right?" You felt him squeezing your leg as you were starting talking about his military accident, his nails digging into your tight. You cocked your brows, but he only nodded you to continue, gulping down the ball of nerves. "He had an accident on the battlefield, and now he can't stress the sound that resembles the gunfire. It's called post traumatic stress disorder. So yeah, this is why we're never here on New Year."

For a solid minute all of them were dumbfounded. They were shifting from one leg to another, only nervous breathing audible in the room.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Eunji squatted next to you so Daeho didn't need to look up at her. "You should've told us, Dae."

His jaw started trembling again and you saw tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to speak but failed, only drawing a sharp breath in.

"It's alright, love." You shifted closer to him, embracing him and pressing his body to yours, his nose resting in the crook of your neck. "It's okay." Stroking his hair from the crown of his head all the way down to his shoulders you felt him meeking into your embrace, relaxing his posture.

"He had rather bad experience with telling people about his condition..."

"I didn't want you to think that I'm not normal, that I'm a sych..." He blurred out with his face almost completely wet. Daeho lifted his shoulder to wipe the wettnes from his face and looked at Eunji empty-eyeded.

"We don't think so, Daeho." Jungheul came closer, placing his palm on Daeho's shoulder and squeezing it hard, reassuring. "Can we help with it? Somehow?"

"Maybe stop dragging him out on New Year's night?" You teased them, but you didn't expect Daeho to chuckle.

The way his gentle laughter echoed in the half empty kitchen put everyone at ease.

"It's alright guys, thank you." He wiped out the rest of the face, looking at everybody. "Now, I'm glad you know, but..." He overlooked everyone and shared a gaze with you, the corners of his mouth curled up just slightly. "Really, don't drag me out on the New Year night from now on."

When Daeho put everyone at ease and the loud laugh thundered throughout the kitchen, your friends shared a look and swiftly ran towards the door.

"Don't you dare to start fucking, cause we'll be back in like, 15 minutes!" One of them shouted, closing the door behind the group.

"Stop laughing, I didn't finish with that." You murmured, guiding Daeho's head at your direction and pressing another cotton disk to his lip, soaking up the fresh blood that started flowing out of the wound again, after Dae stretched his lips in a genuine smile.

Fifteen minutes later, like a clockwork, your friends burst into your apartment, Daeho and you still sitting in the kitchen in a precious silence.

"We don't have much either, but you know," Jungheul put the bags on the table, immediately opening one of them and taking the homemade food out. "A thread from everyone bluh bluh bluh, huh."

With them taking food out of their bags the small kitchen table of yours became stuffed, with no place to drop a coin to.

"You know, when we said we wanna celebrate this New Year with you, we meant it." Eunji said with such softness in her voice, Daeho breathed out inaudibly, his jaw left quivering and tears welling up in his warm brown eyes.

As soon as you finished helping with the table, you sat yourself down on one of Daeho's legs, letting your friends take the rest of the chairs, and put a small, tender kiss on his temple.

That was yours and Daeho's first New Year celebration in Seoul, amongst your friends. Behind the soundproof windows and doors closed shut, but yet with loud buzzing, roar of your friends singing, laughing and telling old embarrassing stories.

Maybe it's not your last New Year in Seoul.

#kang dae ho #kang daeho #kang dae ho x reader #kang daeho x reader #squid game x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #squid game fanfiction

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coldeforprez · 2 months ago

Text

Is It The Way; 2003 • 01

Elias "Stack" Moore has "loved" and lost more than his fair share of women— and rarely thinks twice about it. But He can never seem to let go of her. There's only so much a man—alive or otherwise—can take. And he's been a gentleman long enough, right?

pairing: vampire!Stack x black!OC warnings: ORIGINAL CHARACTER (I love my bb Della Mae with my whole heart and will accept no slander - ty, mgmt. ) ANGST, this fic is VERY self-indulgent, suggestive themes, swearing, implied violence, established relationship, their relationship is kinda toxic but they're just two ppl who love each other okay?!, You get edged again cause no smut till part two :3 (this is a series we gotta do some world building besties) word count: 3.9k

dear reader 💌: hey pookie! I really appreciate the support and love that yall showed the teaser for the first installment of my new series To Have and To Hold ! I have been fighting for my life trying to get this out and honestly, I'm being super picky so I decided to just throw it out there :0 ! That and I can't focus on anything because it's taking up so much space in my head. Anyway ENJOY !

This story is told in a non-linear fashion. Like memories resurfacing.

winter of 1912.

Elias looks up from his spot leaning against the brick pillar—he and Smoke running their usual pickpocketing schemes down at the train station.

Feeling a stare on him, his eyes dart around the crowded platform looking for the source. His gaze skips over her at first—then returns.

She can’t be more than 16 years old; potentially making her only 2 years his junior. Her eyes twinkle with mischief like she’d been watching the twins longer than they knew. She stands next to an older woman and two younger boys, worn suitcases at their feet. Her hand-me-down dress fluttering softly in the winter breeze.

He tilts his head, confused—he’s never seen the girl or her people around town before. Turning to his twin brother, he taps him and asks, in a low voice, “Aye’, you ever seen lil’ mama in the brown dress ‘round here befoe’?”

The elder twin looks up from where he’s counting their earnings—it won’t be enough for a satisfying meal, but it’ll keep the hunger pains away for the night.

His eyes follow Stacks’ gaze to the retreating form of the young girl and her family. He cuts his eyes at his younger brother,

“Well, since I ain’t her maker, I’m not real capable of identifying ole’ girl from the back.”

Stack curls his lip, side-eyeing him. “What you always bein’ smart for? You know what—actually, I don’t give a damn. How much money we make?”

fall of 1914. The air smelled sweet—like honey, heat and the blossoms overhead. Della was leaning back on her palms in the grass, feet bare, Elias’ hat tossed aside beside her. The magnolia tree stretched wide above them like a crown, its branches heavy with blooms, thick petals littering the ground around her.

Elias stood a few feet away, trying to toss a pebble high enough to knock down one of the blossoms—she swore she could catch it mid-air.

“You gon’ miss again,” Del teased, grinning, “and I’ma laugh just as hard as I did the last five times.” he cut his eyes at her, squinting up at the branch, tongue peeking out in concentration. “I ain’t missin’. I’m doin’ warm-up tosses lil’ girl.”

“Ohhh okay! So that’s what you gone call it?” she laughed, tipping her head back until her coils brushed the grass.

He launched another pebble;hitting the branch just right. A magnolia bloom dropped—twirling slowly towards the ground—and Del leapt up with a gleam in her eye, catching it right against her chest. “Ha!” she beamed, spinning to show him. “I was right! Told you I’d catch it.”

He looked at her for a beat too long, he thinks her cheeks should be hurting from how hard she’s grinning. Her smile wide, singular dimple showing. “You always are.” he said softly, hands slipping into his pockets.

She slowed, watching him like she wasn’t used to that tone in his voice. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said quickly, tugging at his collar anxiously. “Just… you somethin’ else, that’s all.”

Del tucked the magnolia bloom behind her ear and shrugged, but she was smiling too big to play it cool. “I guess you ain’t too bad yourself.”

summer of 1917. The sun was dipping low, casting amber light across the magnolia tree where they always met. Della was halfway through tying her braid when Elias flopped onto the grass beside her, arms folded behind his head, like it was just another Sunday.

“You ever think ‘bout what France smell like?” he asked, watching the clouds.

She side-eyed him. “France?”

He nodded, still staring skyward. “Yeah. I heard it smell like perfume and fresh bread. Kinda place folks write poems about.”

Della squinted at him, confused. “Why you talkin’ ‘bout France?”

He sat up slower this time, like his body felt heavier than usual. His mouth opened, then closed. He looked down at his hands, rubbing at his thumb—he was stalling.

“Got my papers.” ,he grumbled

She blinked. “For what?”

“…The war, Dove. I gotta go.”

Della’s hands dropped into her lap. “No you don’t. Ain’t nobody makin’ you—”

“They are,” he cut in gently, eyes still not quite meeting hers. “Draft notice came in yesterday. I—I ain’t wanna tell you like this, I just… I couldn’t figure out how.”

She stood sharply, fists clenched. “So that’s it? i’m just ‘sposed to sit around and wonder if you makin’ it back or not?”

He stood too, but slower, as if the words had knocked the wind out of him. “It’s not like I wanna go, Del. But if I don’t show up, they gone come lookin’. Maybe even worse.”

His voice cracked just a little on that last part, and he finally met her eyes. “I ain’t gone lie and say i’m not scared,” he admitted, quietly. “But I swear to you—I’m comin’ back. I ain’t dyin’ in no field—I don’t care what I gotta do.”

She stared at him, lip trembling. “You better,” she whispered.

fall of 1932. “You think I give a fuck what you want right now?” he growled in frustration. “I ain’t lettin’ you go. Not this time. You hear me? You mine. You always been, always gone be.”

She struck him—open palm across the face, hard. His head snapped sideways. He didn’t flinch. Just turned back slow, smiling crooked, eyes glowing like wildfire. His hands tightening on her shoulders voice thick with grief and possessive need.

“You all I got left,” he breathed. “I ain’t losin’ you too. I’ll drag you with me if I have to. I swear to God, I will.”

She scoffs trying to free herself from his grip to no avail,

“No self-righteous sacrifices for me huh? No bullshit speech about keeping me safe?” she spat, eyes burning with tears. “You always pulling me towards a burning building with you, but I bet you woulda’ lost your damn life to protect her from one! Hell—Mary the one made you this way! Go spend an eternity with her ole triflin’ bloodsuckin’ ass!”

She clawed at his chest, shoved, writhed—but his hands only steadied her, held her like something precious even as he stole her breath.

“I ain’t doin’ this life without you,” he said, voice thick, almost tender. “Ain’t no world I wanna be apart of if you not in it.”

And then—Stillness.

Her body limp in his arms. Blood on his lips. The river settled.

Above them, the magnolia tree stood silent. Watching.

spring of 52’. Their magnolia was in full bloom.

Del figured if they were gonna do this, it best be at a spot that held their most precious memories. Both the good ones—and the ones that still stung.

The wind brought in a soft breeze, just enough to ruffle the edges of her white dress. Her veil fluttered around her face like a whisper.

He wore a pressed suit—bloodstain still on the cuff she couldn’t scrub out. His grin was wide, wicked, sharp fangs flashing under gold slugs.

No preacher. No piano. No guests.

Just the river hummin’ nearby, and a jar of moonshine waitin’ in the grass.

She whispered her vows into the crook of his neck. He said his with his mouth pressed to her fingertips.

“You know this don’t fix everything,” she told him with a smirk.

“Ain’t tryna fix it,” he said. “Just tryna hold onto it.”

Their old magnolia tree the only witness to their eternal union. summer of 75’. “C’mon, morning dove,” he says, smiling like it was 1951. “Let me hold you a minute.”

present day; 2003

He strolled in right at midnight, just as everything had gone quiet and the once raucous city streets were now eerily still.

She didn’t turn when the door opened. Didn’t flinch when his footsteps found her.

She’d known he would come eventually. Of course he would. Even when she didn’t want him to—he always did. The problem was that she’d never quite figured out which she preferred more: his absence or his presence.

She never had to question whether or not she still wanted him though. Hell, she spent more time than she’d like to admit reminiscing the countless ways he’d expressed his insatiable hunger for her in this almost century-old dance they’d been doing.

He doesn’t announce his presence. No smooth line. No performative charm. Doesn’t even breathe too loud.

His coat’s worn in random spots—like something time had toyed with endlessly and then tossed aside. For a quick moment, she wonders if he’s fallen on hard times since the last time he’d blessed suffocated her with his presence. That’s how she felt, too—every time they slipped outside each other’s orbit. Like she was just waiting breathlessly in the wings for the next act of their whirlwind—whatever it was they have.

On the exterior, she’s the picture of indifference. Takes the time to sip the drink clutched between her sharply manicured fingers. Letting the silence stretch—uncomfortable for most, but not for them.

Just as she’s worked up the nerve to acknowledge his presence—

“Del.”

A beat. The space between them has never seemed further.

“You still carryin’ the weight of the world like it belongs to you, baby.”

She breathes out a soft, humorless sound. Doesn’t smile. Refuses to turn her head to give him the satisfaction of seeing a glimpse of the mental spiral his sudden appearance has catapulted her into.

“And you still talk like a ghost that don’t know it’s dead.”

He inches closer. Slowly. Like if he moves too fast, she’ll vanish again.

“Maybe I am.”

She turns swiftly toward him—eyes sharp, expression unreadable. With a slight furrow in her brows and something cold yet vulnerable in her voice, she asks a question that likely won’t have a sufficient answer—

“Why now?”

A brief pause. His usual sly grin is noticeably missing—his mouth opens and shuts quickly, almost like he’s chewing on the words but they just don’t taste quite right. Yet he doesn’t blink when he says it:

“Ain’t know how much longer I could stay away.”

She doesn’t respond. Not right away. Just lets out a quiet chuckle and tips her glass toward him—dry, disbelieving.

“Even after all these years…” She shakes her head, almost smiling. “You still one smooth motherfucka. I’ll give ya that.”

He breaks into that infamous grin—just as intimidating as it is bright. Like he ain’t ever seen a bad day in his life. “Now you know better than anybody—I can’t contain all this pimpin’.”

She pauses mid-sip, nearly chokes. Side-eyes him, nostrils flaring, expression dry as hell. She waits a beat. Then hums a noise of indifference,

“Mmm—You dressed like a broke-ass pimp. Must be hard flyin’ with one wing, huh?”

The jab knocks him off guard. For a second, he forgets they aren’t back there—where jokes came easier, when everything felt like that rare but sweet moment when you realize you’re dreaming—and somehow, you get to keep dreaming, just to spite reality a little longer.

He smacks his lips, gaze blank, mouth cocked to the side, ignoring the subtle bite in her voice. “Aye, stop playin’ with me. You know ian ever hurtin’ for no bread. Who you think bought out half these pieces before the showcase tonight?”

That earns him her first real smile. Small. Shy. Like it slipped out before she could catch it. Like her body remembered something before her mind could lock it away. “Yeah, I know. I just wanted you to drop all that silent and mysterious shit. Came in here lookin’ like you auditionin’ for that vampire nigga movie.”

He squints. “You talkin’ ‘bout Blade?”

She nods, grinning. “Hell yea. You got this big-ass trench coat on like it ain’t 75 degrees outside.” He cuts her off with—“Aye shoutout Wesley Snipes, you know i’on fuck wit’ allat capitalism—taxes and shit.”

She shakes her head, earrings jingling softly—briefly catching his attention—before he hears her mutter under her breath, “Ole’ extra ass.”

He spins with a grin and a little flourish. “Owee—Don’t hate baby.” Smirking as he invades her space just enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“ You ain’t gotta lie to yourself—Daddy still make that pretty thang’ hum, hm?”

The echoes of his southern drawl still makes her knees feel weak. Pause. How does he even think to say shit like that?

He does kinda have a point though.

She steps back curling her lip at him in pure annoyance, rolling her eyes quickly, “Nigga, gone on somewhere.” Giving him a slow once-over, “And don’t think you slick with that ‘I ain’t know how long I could stay away’ shit.” She drops her voice into a mocking tone—deep and dramatic, face scrunched in fake sadness. “I know you,” she says, shaking her head. “You want somethin’. So gone and come out wit’ it.”

“Why you always assumin’ I got a hidden agenda or some shit?” he scoffs.

She fixes him with a stare.

He coughs, looks away, then back again—“Okay. Never mind. Ignore that.” He sighs deeply like he’s afraid she’s going to shut him down before he can pull his thoughts together.

“Been tryna love other people—swear I have.”

She purses her lips.

“Okay damn, maybe I was just fuckin’ some of ‘em—Anyway—tried humans, but you know I get a little nibbly when I’m excited—dated some vamps, kinda hard for ‘em to live up to my expectations there though,” He scratches his beard in frustration, “Shit I even went out with a witch for a minute—she was a lil freak, I’ll tell you that—still ain’t come close to nothin’ we used to—”

She briefly stares off into space dumbfounded; then turns back to cut him off before he can remind her of anything she might still want. “Hmm—if you came to update me on all the places your dick has been the last decade, you can spare me.” She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath where he can’t hear, “Nigga goin’ on a world tour with my dick and tryna tell me all about it—fuck is he on?”

His eyes widen in realization at the implications of his words. “Hollon’, I ain’t mean it like that,” He sighs again. “What I’m tryna say is every time—every time—I start feelin’ like maybe I can build somethin’ new, your name start echoin’ in my head. Or I’d smell that stankin’ ass oil paint you used to use. Hear you narratin’ your day like somebody other than just us was around—Even started listenin’ to that white bread ass group you like so much.”

She scoffs and interrupts, “Aht Aht—not too much on Fleetwood Mac now—that might be one of the few things white folks got right.” She rolls her eyes muttering under her breath, “Surprised his ass ain’t go lookin’ for Stevie Nicks since he like witches so damn much—”

He quiets her with a blank stare. Grumbling under his breath before continuing, “Keep on rolling’ them damn eyes— hope they get stuck like that.” Clearing his throat he continues, “I kept tellin’ myself you might actually be better off without me. Maybe finally found a way to feel human again—then I heard ‘bout this place. Figured maybe you ain’t moved on neither.”

She’s suddenly busy surveying the contents of her glass—it’s been empty for the last 10 minutes.

“And that kinda fucked me up a lil’ bit, Cause if you still alone—and I’m still alone—then what the hell we been doin’ all this time, Del?”

She sighs quietly and meets his gaze with a resigned look in her eye, but before she can get the words out he interrupts,

“I ain’t come here looking for no second chances. We way past that anyway. But—you the only one who ever—survived me—Who know me better than maybe even Smoke did. And I’m not goin’ another decade wonderin’ if we could finally get it right.”

She scoffs, her eyes quickly becoming ablaze with an emotion he can only define as rage. “And that’s our problem right there—It’s all about what you want and when you’re ready to do it!”

All things considered, he’s propositioned her with worse. She’s not even sure why she’s fighting him now— aching inside to try again but too afraid to take the leap.

How much will they bleed this time around if they cut each other again?

She pauses breath catching in her throat, feeling her composure slipping. Can’t meet his eye when she opens her mouth to say, “Look, I don’t think—”

71 years and they still can’t get it right. He can feel her slipping away. She doesn’t think he’ll ever get another chance like this. He knows he won’t. She’ll make sure of it. His throat tightens—panic sets in. He’s about to be knocked out of her orbit forever.

“I’m sorry.”

He says the words like they were trying to burst from his lips. His eyes damn near projecting a short film filled with the echoes of his desperation and whispers of his guilt. It’s rushed, clumsy, boy-ish—such contrast from the way he would normally carry himself. Honestly, it’s pretty sucky as far as apologies go, especially given the tangled history the two of them share.

But somehow it works. Like most things involving the two, no reasonable explanation could be given for how two words—3 syllables—can atone for years of hurting and healing each other.

She blinks rapidly, shifting from foot to foot. She’d always considered herself the least prideful of the two. So she’s admittedly a bit irked that he gets to be the bigger person for saying what they’d always known they both desperately need to hear—

“I-I’m sorry, Elias. I’ve always let you take the blame for everything wrong in our relationship— and my life too, I guess” Her breath catches, looking down at her feet—arms instinctively wrapping around herself. Even to her own ears she sounds fragile. This might be the closest she’s been to feeling like herself since that night in 1932. “That wasn’t fair of me.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at her like she’s some rare thing he isn’t sure he’s allowed to touch anymore. Then— “I could’ve fought harder. For you. For us.” His voice is low, steady. No theatrics this time. “I made peace with the blame—meant I still had somethin’ to carry around with your name on it.” He steps forward—slow, like the wrong move might undo it all. “I ain’t never wanted you to hurt like I did. But I- I didn’t know how to stop takin’ pieces of you with me every time I left.” He reaches for her—momentarily thinking twice about whether touching her will end in him being attacked ;or if she’ll submit to the current of the moment with him. Quickly coming to the conclusion that he’d be satisfied with either reaction, he finally closes the distance between them.

The feeling can only be described as that deeply seated joy you feel when coming home after a long time away. Almost like slipping back into a dream they’d been having every night for the last 71 years.

For a long moment, neither of the two spoke. Their silence saying everything they’d probably never be able to put to words—grief, guilt, passion. Their silence creating a picture that looks something like forgiveness, a bit like anger, and a lot like love. Whispers of a maybe. Promises of a forever.

Her face tucked near his neck, where she’d always felt safe she murmured a quiet, “Missed you.”

He looks down at her with a small smile, leaning in to get a taste of her lips for the first time in a decade.

She leans her head back and places two fingers over his lips with a smirk, “You know this means you lose right ?”

His arms tighten around her waist, one hand sneakily yanking her hand into his. Kissing the tips of her fingers with a smile in his voice, “Long as I lose to you, It ain’t really losin’, huh?”

He gives a crooked grin—and kisses her like no time has passed at all.

But time has passed. And it’s in the way his hand trembles just slightly when he touches her waist. In the way her breath hitches when their mouths finally meet, not rushed, not angry, but like they’re retracing old steps in a house long abandoned.

It starts slow. Mouths hovering, teasing. The tension’s all in the pause, the promise.

Then—He bites. A tiny nip at her bottom lip, soft and sharp all at once. A low, possessive growl vibrates from his chest, deep and involuntary. She tastes like something he lost in a dream. The air shifts. The room’s still, but they aren’t. The kind of stillness that only comes before a storm.

“Hey, daddy?” she whispers, lips grazing the skin just beneath his jaw—hot, deliberate.

“Yeah, Dove,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded, voice soaked in want.

She smiles—slow, wicked. Her voice a sweet purr. “Wanna play a game?”

His hands slide lower on her waist, fingers slipping just under the hem of her shirt, just enough to make her heart skip.

“Only if I get to keep you after.”

She lets out a breathy scoff, laughing into his mouth, palms pressed flat against his chest like she might push him away—but doesn’t.

“No, seriously—how do you come up with this stuff?” she says, eyes dancing, even as her body leans closer. He just grins, lips brushing hers again.

"Been rehearsin' since 88'. "

summer of ‘75.

“You were my wife, my life, my hopes and dreams.”

Marvin Gaye’s voice curls through the room low, aching, full of a wisdom neither of them dare speak aloud. The record crackles faintly, wrapping them in a velvet cocoon, safe—for now—from the world, from the past, from the slow unraveling they’ve both felt coming.

Elias hums along, off-key. Della swaying absentmindedly in her silk robe, brush in hand, paint smudged on her cheek. He watches her from the couch, journal resting open in his lap, the morning sun painting their living room a gold hue through their sheer drapery.

“You set my soul on fire, my one desire was to love you and think of you with pride.”

“C’mere,” he murmurs, standing with his arms open.

She laughs, not looking at him yet. “You ain’t even brushed your teeth.”

“C’mon, morning dove,” he says, smiling like it’s 1951 again. “Let me hold you a minute.”

“But if you ever need me, i’ll be by your side.“

She lets herself go. Not because it’s easy—but because it’s familiar. Because even with everything cracking underneath them, the shape of him still fits against her perfectly. They dance like they’ve got forever. The lyrics echo what their souls already know—a promise for what’s to come being made without words.

“Though the many happy times we had could really never outweigh the bad…” “I never loved nobody, like I loved you baby…” “Now it’s time for us to say farewell…” “Maybe we’ll meet, down the line…”

Elias presses his cheek to her temple, eyes shut. She grips the back of his shirt like she’s bracing for a fall.

Neither one says a word. But the record keeps playing. And the silence between them says everything.

@marley1773 @justhere2bhur @mea-bby @browngirldominion @kodakbesos @thickemadame @shinywrites @kindofaintrovert @mskirara @amethyst09 @kittikrusher (lol wtf) @sk1121-blog1 @jozigrrl @childishgambinaax

leave a 💲if you'd like to keep up with this series!

#sinners fanfiction #stack x oc #sinners fic #michael b jordan x oc #michael b jordan #sinners #smoke and stack

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autismswagsummit · 10 months ago

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The Bracket has been set!

This year's competitor pool is hot, with 23 returning competitors and 41 new appearances. In Round 1, the matches will be broken up into 4 waves, divided by the quadrants displayed on the bracket. The matches will all be listed below the cut, for everyone's reference.

SIDE A, PART 1

Donatello Hamato (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) v.s L Lawliet (Death Note)

Mary Anta (Cemetery Mary) v.s Rui Kamishiro (Project Sekai)

Izuku Midoriya (My Hero Academia) v.s Branch (Dreamworks Trolls)

Snufkin (Moominvalley) v.s Futaba Sakura (Persona 5)

Gordon Freeman (Half Life) v.s Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock Holmes)

Blathers (Animal Crossing) v.s Princess Bubblegum (Adventure Time)

Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives) v.s Zane (Lego Ninjago)

Tomoko Kuroki (Watamote) v.s Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy 7)

SIDE A, PART 2

Frieren (Sousou no Frieren) v.s Papyrus (Undertale)

Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) v.s Ferb Fletcher (Phineas & Ferb)

Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls) v.s Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Berdly (Deltarune) v.s Gregory House (House M.D)

Data (Star Trek) v.s Idia Shroud (Twisted Wonderland)

Peridot (Steven Universe) v.s Penny Polendina (RWBY)

Sig (Puyo Puyo) v.s Marcy Wu (Amphibia)

Jotaro Kujo (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure) v.s Miles Edgeworth (Ace Attorney)

SIDE B, PART 1

Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece) v.s Alhaitham (Genshin Impact)

Laios Touden (Dungeon Meshi) v.s Iggy Maxwell (Our Wonderland)

Dendy (OK KO: Let's Be Heroes) v.s Gin Ibushi (Your Turn To Die)

Norma Khan (Dead End: Paranormal Park) v.s Link (The Legend of Zelda)

Starfire (Teen Titans) v.s Luz Noceda (The Owl House)

Siffrin (In Stars And Time) v.s Huey Duck (Ducktales 2017)

Lilo Pelekai (Lilo & Stitch) v.s Saiki Kusuo (The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.)

Woo Young Woo (Extraordinary Attorney Woo) v.s Miles "Tails" Prower (Sonic the Hedgehog)

SIDE B, PART 2

Razputin Aquato (Psychonauts) v.s Linhardt von Hevring (Fire Emblem Three Houses)

Ranpo Edogawa (Bungou Stray Dogs) v.s Entrapta (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Murderbot (The Murderbot Diaries) v.s Kieran (Pokemon Scarlet & Violet)

Twyla Boogeyman (Monster High) v.s Marina Ida (Splatoon)

Hiccup Haddock (How To Train Your Dragon) v.s Batman (DC Comics)

Abed Nadir (Community) v.s Red Son (Lego Monkie Kid)

Uzi Doorman (Murder Drones) v.s Bingo Heeler (Bluey)

Gillion Tidestrider (Just Roll With It) v.s Spongebob Squarepants (Spongebob Squarepants)

#autism #polls #autismsummit2024 #tournament

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pocmuzings · 2 months ago

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welcome to a guide for 2025 rpc and a throwback to the importance of creating well rounded , developed characters .

a general lovenote and reminder on how to create characters people want to rp with , as discussed by g. please note , these are all my own thoughts and feelings , but i'm not ' married ' to any of this . i'm happy for open conversation , thoughts , feedback etc , but i don't tolerate aggressive messaging .

the first thing i think about when i think about my character , whether for a rp , a book , a short story , or a 1x1 partner is . . . where is my character ? not just physically , but emotionally . what got them there ? what have they already overcome ? what do they have LEFT to overcome ?

whenever i write or create a character , i think about them in the same way i think about any story making . stories ( typically and in some manner ) have beginnings , climaxes and ends . they also have problems that need to be solved ( or not solved ) . there's an arc we follow . we go up the mountain , then back down again .

a beginning is not necessarily ' born in 1982 , to two loving parents ' . it doesn't need to be a beginning of time , but can just be the beginning to your characters story . e.g ' despite having two loving parents , she had a deep focus on soccer . if not soccer , then maths . if not maths , something else . from a young age , she strove for perfection and being the best at something .'

this beginning sets the tone of your character . in a few sentence , we can already see what kind of person she is and know that she has some internal demons she's battling . we don't necessarily need her entire family tree unless it's critical to the story.

from there, we have our climax or problem statement , where things really begin to boil . again , it doesn't necessarily need to be ' everything came to a head when her mother died ' . we can make it more character focused by writing ' in 2012 , her mother died and she threw herself into trying to create the perfect replacement family . she got married to 4 different men in the space of 5 years , and has 5 children shared among them , as well as 2 step children . but she is unable to settle down . she feels restless . she finds it hard to be a mother because everything reminds her of her own mother , and the loss she's endured . ' now , we already know two things about our character :

1 . she wants to be perfect and the best , including at creating families

2 . she is terrified of her role in motherhood due to the loss of her own mother and feeling unmoored without her

this can then take us to the problem solving portion of the character . this is usually where i like to start my character in rps and 1x1 and novel worlds . we have these 2 issues and 2 core beliefs within the character . they're instrumental to her . how are we going to overcome it ? ARE we going to overcome it ?

we can begin to think of the butterfly effect in terms of our character . we can begin to think of the tree and its branches growing within her , extending out to other characters . we can see how she effects other people , including those close to her , not close to her , new friends , old friends , new love interests , past interests . we can create drama and connections because we have a strong foundation .

so . where does it end ? does it need to end happily ? simple answer is no . your character can end in the exact same place as they did at the beginning , but the point is that we've gone on the journey with the character . maybe we've seen her talk to her mother's grave . maybe we've seen her go to grief counselling . maybe she's gotten pregnant or married again . the problem statement doesn't stop her or stick her in one place . in fact , if anything , it can encourage her to keep making the same mistakes . on the coin flip , she can learn . she can grow . she can heal . she can mend the relationships with her kids , her past partners , rekindle love , or find new love . the whole point in the made-up 'ending' for a character , is that we have options . we haven't locked her down . we can continue to plot , connect , develop , etc , as we go along .

QUESTIONS AND THOUGHTS I CONSIDER WHEN CREATING A CHARACTER :

how has your character ended up where they are right in this moment? think about where you’re starting them from, and what that looks like realistically. not just physically : how did they get to this place ? but also mentally : what did they have to do to become the person they are ? was it good or bad ? everything you are and do and become as a human is made up of tiny almost inconsequential decisions or choices you made. you decided to study x. you broke up with y. your parent passed away so you had to come back to your childhood home. your illustrious career came crashing down and you need a place to cool off. you never left here, you’ve been here from the beginning, because you’re searching for something. what is it? what is the thing that has your character right where they are in this exact moment ?

what emotion do they feel the most? regret, anger, longing, nostalgia ? this helps drive your characters motives past and presently. it also helps you understand their goals. what they want to achieve and why. maybe they yearn for longing and friendship and connection because they never got it as a child, whether at home or at school. maybe they regret not keeping in touch with their childhood friends because now they are surrounded by people they can’t trust and work in a shitty environment where you have to climb over others to get on top. everyone has a goal. everyone has an emotion that drives it. what is your characters and why does it matter? how does it present?

when’s the last time they cried and why? everybody cries and everybody cries in very different ways. it says a lot about the emotional state of a character and their emotional health. are they in tune with their emotions and cry at appropriate times? do they compartmentalise it? do they only cry when angry? dig into it and think of the why why why. why does my character only cry at this one thing? why does my character only feel safe crying alone? why.

what is your characters biggest regret in life? did they get on a plane when they should have stayed? did they study a subject only because their parents wanted them to? did they not kiss the girl when they wanted to? let’s be honest. our lives are filled with “if only i’d done xyz” . if only . this also provides a great opportunity to MAKE these plots and plot with other people. now we can come up with exes or ex best friends or old flames or whatever whatever , because there’s a good chance your character regrets something that impacts someone else and they regret it BECAUSE of that impact .

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS AND TIPS I'VE PICKED UP WHILE RPING

honestly the more “whys” you can answer for your character, the more in depth you’re getting. in order for other people to understand your character, you need to understand them yourself. you can’t expect people to write with your character if they don’t really have much of a stable personality and your plots don’t make much sense. remember: plotting should contribute to your character and their development. human relationships don’t just exist because we like them. they exist because they serve an unserved part within ourselves.

genuinely think of their hobbies. it’s all well and good to say “she’s a bookworm and loves puzzles” “he likes music” but like. what does that actually mean? WHY do they like certain things ? do they like reading books or writing? do they like fantasy and escapism because it reminds them of childhood? do they listen to only their dads favourite music because they miss him? do they make playlists for niche and specific moods only applicable to them? why are their hobbies important to them?

consider their connections, not just future but npc and current. how would 5 close friends describe them in one word? how would their ex describe them in one word? what is one thing that others could safely always rely on your character for (eg designated driver on nights out, always having some type of fidgeting device, knowing a phone app to help you meditate or streamline a process etc etc). we all exist in the worlds of our loved ones, past, present and future. we leave marks with them. we are known to them. so what is your character known and loved for?

pick your plot first, not your fc or your character. i know this sounds counterintuitive but when you have a plot for a character and a clear path for development - it helps everything else fall into place. the worst thing are characters that are plotless (specifically for group rping). i’m going to be honest here: your character has to have something to give other characters. whether it’s drama, information, hidden secrets, a connection… your character has to have something of substance. i’d actually prefer they’re a stereotype then they’re just aimless and personality-less. when you have a big overarching plot and path for your character, it will not only help you plot with others, but also help keep your character moving and not JUST reliant on others to pick up the slack

rping has always used the yes and…? rule. that extends to your characters. instead of yes and…? think of So… what? your character loves to bake. ok. so what? what does that mean for a thread, or another character? why do we care? maybe we’d care if your character bakes experimental stuff and loves to test it on other muses. maybe we’d care if your character used to be a professional baker but hasn’t baked lovingly in a while. maybe we’d care if your character is a baker but has lost their charm and schtick and can’t bake the way they used to. this stuff is important. don’t just stick arbitrary things onto your character and expect others to care, especially when you don’t care and have just put it on your character as a random quirk. that’s not how people and humans work. everything means everything.

your character doesn’t have to be likeable but they do have to be memorable. evil nasty girls, manipulative jerks… yeah that’s all ok! but also you kinda have to show, don’t tell. you can’t just SAY your character is the “head bitch in charge” and then she never actually talks or says anything or does anything. sorry, but in order for me to see your character, you actually have to write them or at the very least headcanon them. otherwise, they’re just a blob of musings in the ether.

in order to create a character , you have to write your character . i see this a lot in groups .. people love to create a character pinterest , graphics , aesthetics galore . its amazing ! but they don't actually write the character and it can close off a lot of opportunities to plot because people don't know who your character really is . i hate to say it , and its not true for everyone but : if you're relying on aesthetic , then you could be lacking in the actual creation and writing aspect . plus , people have come here to WRITE with YOU . not just see fan edits of your character . write . write badly . write starters , even if they scare you . write with people you don't know . write with yourself . write with your best friend . but you have to actually do the writing part .

#rph #rpc #character help #character development #this is just babble watch me get weird and delete it in a day or two FDKJNFDNJF #this seems sooo egotistical as if im some writing god .. like fr shutup g...#I SWEAR IM NOT AN EGOMANIAC A FEW PPL MESSAGED BEFORE AND SAID THEYD WANT THIS . . ITS JUST MY THOUGHTS N FEELINGS IN 2025 #IVE SEEN SOME SHOCKINGLY BAD CHARACTERS DKJNFDJKNFJN sorry thats mean but like . . yk .. some ppl rlly only focus on fc or aesthetic #me : constantly sweating over aesthetics #also me in this guide : dont worry abt aesthetic!#ok now im babbling again #this has been in my phone notes app for sooo long im cleansing myself..#also this is embarrassing bc its not even well written #OK FR SHUTTING UP NOW #hope this does help someone out there #my guide #my writing

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gir-sims · 3 months ago

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Marcella and Paul Hager go steady!

#the sims 2 #sims 2 #ts2 #bacc #sims 2 bacc #ts2 bacc #bacc seaport #round 4 #sim: marcella branch #sim: paul hager

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stil-lindigo · 1 year ago

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ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE 🇵🇸 - ROUND 2!! On the 16th and 23rd of March, I'll be doing art requests on stream with other notable artists to raise money for Operation Olive Branch and Project Watermelon.

This round's roster is very lucky to include notable webcomic artists like explodikid, Graveweaver, Curryuku and Speremint who respectively create Covenant, I'm The Grim Reaper, Not So Shoujo Love Story and Brimstone and Roses on WEBTOON. We also have Onstamonsta, an artist, streamer and Kiryu fan who Drawfee fans might recognise and the exceptionally talented Jessie Lam!

Last fundraising event was a great success, and I hope some of you might show up for this next round of streams. All money will be donated directly to Palestinian escape funds as the situation of Rafah is becoming exponentially worse (and if you'd like to donate directly, here's a link to a spreadsheet of over 750!)

As always, these fundraisers will always be available to watch over on my twitch channel. Thank you all and free Palestine!

#its just for escape funds this time bc personally i think that atp getting palestinians out of there is the most effective use of money #which isnt to discredit donating for e-sims or to other aid orgs like the PCRF #this is just personally my decision #also putting a direct link to operation olive branch there bc its the most direct way to help!!!#a lot of funds on there have stagnated #have a look #palestine #free palestine #free gaza #free rafah #donations #fundraiser

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hometoursandotherstuff · 3 months ago

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Ordinary looking 1917 Mediterranean style home in Ponca City, OK looks like it would be a fixer upper. And, at only $215k, the 4bd, 2ba, 2,168sqft home is completely unexpected inside.

I would never have expected this. It looks like a little castle.

Very large main room. Look at the wood.

Beautiful windows all around.

Look up and there's also a loft above.

The double doors in the main room open to a living room with a fireplace and another staircase.

I would imagine that you could fit a dining table by the stairs, b/c the kitchen is to the left.

The kitchen is surprisingly large. Lots of cabinet space.

Plus, there's that nook back there. Maybe they had a table there.

Large vintage bath.

Laundry room in the back with a door to the yard.

If you go up the stairs in the front room.

You come to a cute loft area with a round stained glass window.

The view from the loft.

Continuing up the stairs, you come to this large middle room that the bedrooms and baths branch off of.

Bath #1 is large and has a cute vintage look.

On the other end, it opens to this bedroom.

This big bright room may be the primary, b/c it has a sink.

Smaller bedroom is cute.

And, this room is right off it- it would make a good walk-in closet, small office, or studio. It certainly gets great natural light.

Smaller bath #2 has a little claw foot tub.

But, for $215k, that's not all. There's this beautiful 3 car garage with lots of parking in the back of the house. Plus, it has rooms.

They don't show it, but look at how large the side of it is, and it has parking.

They do show the room above the garage. It's huge and in excellent condition.

There's a fenced yard on the side and it has a central a/c unit, too. I would decorate the hell out of this place, it's so cute.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/310-N-7th-St-Ponca-City-OK-74601/86040644_zpid/

#mediterranean style homes #houses #house tours #home tour #homes under $220k

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bestanimal · 8 days ago

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Round 3 - Actinopterygii - Osteoglossiformes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Order: Osteoglossiformes

Common Name: no common name for the whole order

Families: 6 - Pantodontidae (“Freshwater Butterflyfish”), Osteoglossidae (“bonytongues” and “arowanas”), Arapaimidae (“arapaimas”), Notopteridae (“featherback knifefishes”), Gymnarchidae (“African Knifefish”), and Mormyridae (freshwater elephantfish”)

Anatomy: elongated body; toothed or bony tongues; long or absent dorsal and anal fins positioned near the caudal fin; large swim bladder enables them to breathe at the surface of the water; most are adapted for surface feeding

Diet: arthropods, fish, snails, frogs, lizards, snakes, mice, bats, and small birds

Habitat/Range: slightly acidic freshwater in South America, Africa, Australia, and Southern Asia

Evolved in: Late Jurassic

(source)

Propaganda under the cut:

Freshwater Butterflyfish (Pantodon buchholzi) (image 4) have very large pectoral fins. If enough speed is built up underwater, a butterflyfish can jump and glide a small distance above the surface to escape predators. It wiggles its pectoral fins as it glides, with the help of specialized, enlarged pectoral muscles.

Arowanas (genus Osteoglossum) can jump up to 2 m (6.6 ft) out of the water to pick their prey off of branches, tree trunks or foliage, which has earned them the local name "water monkeys". They are the largest fish in the world to catch most of their food out of water.

Male arowanas brood their young within their mouth, only fully releasing them when they are about 7 cm (2.8 in) long.

The endangered Asian Arowana (Scleropages formosus) (image 1) is also known as the “dragonfish”, due to its large metallic scales and long barbels giving it a resemblance to the Chinese dragon. The popularity of this beautiful, auspicious fish has had both positive and negative effects on their status as endangered species, as they are in high demand in the home aquarium trade. Legal pet Asian Arowanas must be bred in captivity on a fish farm for at least two generations, have a certificate of authenticity and a birth certificate, and an implanted microchip to identify the individual. There are over 150 CITES-registered Asian Arowana farms in Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, and other Southeast Asia countries, producing Asian Arowana for commercial purposes. But the actual number of Asian Arowana farms in the world could be much higher than that, probably over 350, the majority of them unregistered.

The Arapaima (Arapaima gigas) (see gif above) is the largest truly freshwater fish, commonly measuring 200 cm (6.6 ft) with records of up to 450 cm (15 ft). Adults may weigh up to 200 kg (440 lb).

Arapaima parents have been observed using their mouths to dig holes in the substrate to create a nest for their eggs. The males will remain by the nest to protect their offspring for three to six months.

Arapaima are becoming increasingly rare in their native habitat of the Amazon and Tocantins-Araguaia river basins, but are invasive in Bolivia and Indonesia after purposeful and accidental releases.

A 13-million-year-old fossil of an Arapaima (or very similar species) has been found in Colombia, in the Villavieja Formation, which dates from the Miocene epoch.

The African Arowana (Heterotis niloticus) (actually a relative of arapaimas rather than arowanas) is the only Osteoglossiform to feed extensively on plankton.

Native to freshwater habitats in Cambodia, China, Hong Kong, Laos, Macau, Thailand, and Vietnam, the Clown Featherback (Chitala ornata) (image 2) is considered one of the world’s most invasive species, as it often outgrows home aquariums and is then released into the “wild” outside its native range.

The Giant Featherback (Chitala lopis) was declared to be extinct in 2020, but a small surviving population was rediscovered on Java, Indonesia in 2023.

The African Knifefish (Gymnarchus niloticus) and freshwater elephantfishes (family Mormyridae) (image 3) are able to produce a steady but weak electric field, used for finding their prey, usually small invertebrates buried in muddy substrates.

The African Knifefish can swim equally well forwards or backwards, relying on its electric senses to “see” behind it.

Freshwater elephantfish are known to have a large brain size and unusually high intelligence.

The Medjed (likely a fish in the genus Mormyrus) was a kind of elephantfish sacred in the city Oxyrhynchus, in ancient Egyptian religion, as the fish that ate the penis of Osiris. Archaeologists have found fishes depicted as bronze figurines, mural paintings, or wooden coffins in the shape of fishes with downturned snouts, with horned sun-disc crowns like those of the goddess Hathor.

#FAV FOR ME Arowanas and Arapaimas by beloveds #also fell in love with the butterflyfish and elephantfish at the Georgia Aquarium #animal polls #Osteoglossiformes #Actinopterygii #Round 3

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago

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Locked Out of Heaven 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The leaves rustle as you watch a squirrel scale the branch. The moment of peace gives you time to catch your breath. Even so, your head is still spinning. If your dad knew you were here...

You swallow tightly at that thought. Why didn't you think of that sooner? He'll be upset you're not studying. Or that you didn't turn the dishwasher on. Oh no.

"Why so down, princess? You miss me?" Nick comes up the steps of the gazebo.

You look up and wipe away your worry. You have bigger concerns. Like him and the way he makes your insides gooey.

"Sour cherry," he holds out a cone. You lean forward on the bench and thank him. You take it carefully.

He sits next to you with his cone, his thigh touching yours. You eye the scoop of gelato. You swipe over it with your tongue. Mm. That's different.

"Good?" Nick asks.

"Oh, yum," you force a smile. "Yours."

"Let's see," he focuses on the gelato. He sticks his tongue out, spreading it wide, and drags it over the round scoop. He hums and licks his lips. "Delicious."

Your gaze clings to his lips. You tear your eyes away and stare at your own cone. You flick your tongue against it, taking small licks as you watch the grass ripple.

"This is nice. Peaceful," he comments. "I like this."

"Yeah, er, it's...good," you utter.

"Woah, hey, princess, look at me," he says.

You flinch and do as he says. You look at him as his cheek dimples and his lips slant. He reaches to trace his thumb above your top lip down to the corner.

"Making a mess," he pulls back and licks clean his thumb. "Mmm, tart."

Your breath rushes out as you gape senselessly. Did he really just do that? You snap your mouth shut and slowly suck in air through your nose.

"Wanna try some of mine?" He offers.

You look at the pale yellow gelato then his bold blue eyes. You bat your lashes and rub your lips together. You can still feel his thumb there. An image flashes in your mind as you bit the tip of your tongue. You imagine him pushing his thumb into your mouth. Oh god.

"I don't mind. Come on." He tilts the cone toward you.

You can't speak. You want to say no. You should say no. Yet, you really want to do everything he tells you too. Why?

You lean forward and cautiously lick the cone. He watches you intently. Your cheeks burn as you taste the melting cream. You sit back and cover your mouth.

"Very good. Sweet," you say.

"I like sweet things," he purrs.

"Uh... me too."

He leans back against the gazebo railing, resting his elbow over it. He spreads his knees wide as he stretches his arm behind you. He continues to lap at the cone lazily. He pops his lips and tickles along the back of your arm.

"Princess, I got some bad news." He says.

You sit up straight, prickling with anxiety. Stop looking at his chest. It's just that necklace catch your eye, right?

"Bad news?"

"Ha, sorry, I didn't mean to scare ya. You know, I thought you should have my number just 'cause..." he sighs and ways his knee back and forth. "I gotta go away. It's work. They put me up in a hotel and I gotta send back reports." He scoffs. "Gets real lonely. So if I send you a text or two, can you answer me?"

"Oh uh, sure," you shrug. "Okay."

"Ah, sweetheart, that'll be amazing." He pets your arm. "I think I'll miss you. You gonna miss me?"

You raise a brow. You barely know him, really. You hide your mouth behind the cone. You look around.

"No?" He wonders.

"I... I guess. I'm sorry. I guess... well, yeah."

"Yeah? Good," he drawls. "Pretty princess waiting for me. That's something to work for."

"Uh huh," you gulp and press your lips to the cone without thinking. You cringe and pull back, licking clean your lips. You catch him staring at your tongue.

"Mm, mm," he hums and sits forward, bringing his arm across your shoulders. He pulls you closer. You could melt like the gelato dripping down your knuckles. "You do me one more favour, princess." You nod as you try not to choke. "Don't tell dad about this, alright? We both know he's a hard ass. We're just having some fun, aren't we? Getting ice cream, getting to know each other. Nothing wrong with that." He grips your bare shoulder. "Can you keep this our little secret?"

You turn the cone. You bring it closer and hover it just in front of your lips. "Yes, I won't tell."

"Good girl," he cooes as he keeps his arm around you. "I know you wouldn't lie to me."

💜

Your dad gets home at his usual time. You're where you should be, studying at the dining room table. You always move there before he gets back. He gets mad when you have all your clutter on the couch.

He grumbles at you and hollers for Austin to get downstairs. You lean your pencil on your lip and for a moment, it's more than just plastic; it's Nick's thumb brushing the soft skin. You sit up straight as the voices draw you back to reality.

Sometimes, it feels like you're just another piece of furniture. Your dad barely says hello. Austin isn't much better. When he does talk to you, he calls you brainiac or something worse. If only your dad knew he was paying a junior to do his schoolwork. It doesn't really matter anyway. As long as he stays on the team.

You close your books and stack them under your laptop. You head into the kitchen to get dinner started. You don't do much. You put the prepackaged sides and meat in the oven. Your dad never cooked so he never taught you. He just ordered from a catering company. It's expensive but if it's anything he enjoys, he never cheaps out.

You lean in the corner of the counter. You're restless. You keep expecting your dad to storm in. To accuse you of lying. He doesn't.

Him and Austin enter the kitchen but don't even notice you on their way to the deck. The door shuts and you check the timer on the stove. You're not very hungry. You're nervous. There's so many uncertainties. Will your dad find out? Will Nick message? Is this anything or just a game? Better yet, is it all in your head?

💜

You yawn and nestle down into the pillows. Your lab is early in the morning. You'll need to be rested up. You're exhausted yet wide awake. You just haven't been able to settle.

You close your eyes and try to make your body relax. As you do, you stretch your arms to the sides, fingertips at the edge of the mattress. You feel tiny in the bed. Alone.

Your phone vibrates as if on cue. Before you can let him invade your mind, Nick texts. You hesitate before you unlock the phone. The conversation pops up. Shoot, he'll know you read it.

'Hey princess. Got where I need to be. Bed time?'

You chew your lip. You can't figure out how to answer. You type and backspace so many times. You hope he isn't watching those three dots.

'Just laying in bed. Glad you're safe.' That's fine, right? Nothing weird.

'Big room. Far away. Location is confidential but nice. Am I keeping you up?'

'No. Can't sleep.'

You hit send and stare. Ugh. You should say more but you really don't know what to say.

That worry quickly turns to fright. You sit up as you hit the volume button to hush the ringer. He's video calling. Oh no.

You answer just to stop the vibration. You see the rectangle in the corner, your silhouette lit by the glow of the phone. The rest of the screen is taken up by Nick.

"Hey, I can't see you, princess."

You squeak. You twist around and reach for the lamp. You turn it on and sit back.

"Sorry," you speak softly. "Had the lights off."

"That's alright, princess. Just wanted to see that pretty face." He smirks.

"Oh..." you see your own smile in the corner and want to hide. You're so stupid.

"Lonely here. Just me. Observation mission. Real scintillating stuff."

"Really?"

"Nah.Not really." He tilts his head. "How about I show you the room?"

"If you want," you tense and look above your phone, listening intently to the hallway.

"You're quiet, princess. I can barely hear you."

"Yeah, er... sorry, I don't wanna wake anyone up." You say. You know you won't, everyone else is still awake. You just don't want them to hear you.

"So caring," he praises. "Here, let me flip this."

Suddenly, the image switches as the lens view changes. You see the suite. It's nice. The furniture is modern. A round poof to match the geometric pillows on the couch and the square chair. The decor is the sort of upscale that is almost uncomfortable.

"It looks nice," you whisper.

"Yeah, baby?" He walks around. "Got a bar..." he goes to the glass bartop. "Mini fridge," he shows you the transparent door and all the bottles. "Lots...." he aims at the shelves of glasses. "But no one to share it with."

He walks along the balcony doors that look onto a sparkling skyline then back to the room. He approaches an open door and goes through. He shows you the bedroom. It's just as big as the other room. The bed is neatly made in all white and a large circle mirror hangs behind it, reflecting the rest of the space and something more...

You cover your mouth as your eyes round. "It's a nice bed, huh? Haven't tested it out yet. I'm restless."

"Uh huh," you murmur behind your fingers as you stare at the mirror.

He's in nothing but his boxers. You can see his naked torso and legs. He's slightly obscured by the distance and bed, but you can't look away. His muscles are thick and carved out perfectly.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Nick..."

"Princess," he counters.

"I..."

"Go on, princess."

"I can... see you."

He clucks and flips the camera back to his face. He chuckles. "You like what you see?"

You blink. You open your mouth then shut it. You try again. You have no words.

"I work out so... I hope so," he says.

Silence. Still.

You're dumb. You're lame. And he knows it. You can't even speak because he's the first man ever you've seen like that. And the hottest one.

"Well... you saw me, how about you let me see what you got on?" He purrs.

You cough. "Huh? Er?"

"Come on. Unless... you're not naked, are you?"

You gasp and tug at your collar, visible in the lower part of the frame. He laughs again.

"Teasing. Come on, baby. I'm so far away. I miss you."

"Miss me?" You gulp.

"Sure. I think I've been pretty damn obvious." His face turns serious and you can see the movement around him. He sits. "Sweetheart, I could get in a lot of trouble for it. For just saying so, but I'm really into you. You know that right? You probably see right through me, huh?"

You stare. You look at yourself in the corner. You look terrified. You are terrified. Your heart is thumping so loud.

"If you're not into it, you can just end the call right now." It's hard to tell where he's looking but you just know he's watching you. Waiting.

"I...I'm just... surprised," you croak.

"Surprised? By what?"

"That... that... you... you're saying you like me?"

HIs mouth slants, "baby, I more than like you."

Your brows rise and your head pulses dizzily. Woah.

"You okay?"

"Good," you eke out. "I'm... I..."

"So... can I see your jammies?" He asks,

The question helps you focus. You let out a droning 'uh' as you look down at yourself. You glance at him again.

"Once sec."

You get up on your knees then lean on one hand. You put the phone against the foot board and back up. You angle to get yourself in frame. You feel so strange. It's nothing special. Striped linen pajamas; a button-up tee and pants.

He hums. "You look good, princess. Cozy."

You scramble to grab the phone again, "I do?"

"Sure. I think you'd look even better in something... silkier. It's so hot out. I'm sure a cute little night gown would be much better."

"Oh, maybe."

"Something... pink? I think you'd look good in satin."

"You... do?"

"Well, I think a lot of things about you. I can't lie about that," he lays back and holds his phone by his stomach so you can see his chest. Your eyes threaten to roll back. You feel faint. "I keep thinking about how much room there is in this bed. How nice it'd be to have you next to me."

"Oh?"

"Oh," he echoes coyly. "What do you think? You like that idea? Get all nice and cuddly together?"

"Sure," you breathe. "That's... that's... nice."

"It's damn near perfect," he sighs as your eyes stray to his chest hair. Something about the curls makes your thighs clench. "Right now, just talking to you like this, that's close enough."

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the 355 #locked out of heaven

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