#I'm going to alter the new one a bit to match the new game more

[silenceoflink]

Back in 2017, back when I was a baby artist, I drew something to celebrate the release of Breath of the Wild, the most recent and groundbreaking Zelda Game. Well, with Tears of the Kingdom fast approaching, I decided to re-draw it. Paying tribute to the first 3D Zelda game, Ocarina of Time, I celebrate the new game.

[chaiandsage]

I was thinking about Trust Life (when am I not, I am insane and obsessed, I swear) and how it would fit into the larger canon of the life series as a whole, and two major things have always stuck out to me.

1) Limited Life, what with Jimmy being a Bad Boy and not saying I love you back to Scott (bc bad boys only love their moms) and how Scott would react to that through the lense of a post Trust Life game - I imagine him going back to visit Tango at TIES and just acting over the top about it like "How dare he not say he loves me back! Evil! Jail! Jail for Jimmy for ten thousand years!"

2) What healing happened between Scott and Impuse between the end of Trust Life and the start of the Secret Life games, because Scott was so ride or die for Impuse that season, Gem and the Scotts were all so close, but like, he and Impulse had MATCHING SKINS. And I mean, I know that it's difficult to say because Secret Life was only coming out around the time you finished TL and so it wasn't exactly something to factor in while it was being planned/written, but as established I am crazy and so I'm going to be fitting the TL lense over every life series that happens for the rest of forever and it's just funny trying to fit it together.

Anyways, that is all. Just weird thoughts with me.

Omg. Okay, so I too have considered this and first of all, for the record, I'm pretty sure I did come up with the outline and story idea for the fic long before LL and SL came out. I did try my best to alter things as new stuff happened, like for example, most of the interactions between Scott, Tango, and Jimmy after Trust Life (the game) were going to take place in Rivendell rather than a mix between Chromia, Tumble Town, and the Citadel--but I'm getting off track here. My point is that while LL does still take place after TL, if a bit later than it did in cannon, whatever happens during that game is still up for interpretation. Like that whole "Say it back" interaction between Scott and Jimmy could have still happened, or it could not have because the offshoot events of TL made things happen differently later. It's completely up to you what you would like to believe happened.

That being said, assuming that interaction did still take place between Jimmy and Scott, that whole "jail for then thousand years" bit is hilarious, but my take on it would be more like: Maybe Scott takes it for the joke that it is at first, but later, it slowly starts to eat at him the more he thinks about it. Same with Jimmy. Like in the moment he probably assumed that Scott would understand that he was doing it for a bit (which he did) but then starts to question if Scott really did understand that--and oh god, it's such a small thing to worry over and Scott seemed perfectly fine when he left but what if he really did take him seriously?? Maybe the worry keeps Jimmy up one night and he snaps, deciding to run over to Scott's base at (insert crazy late hour here) in the morning, knock on his door, grab him into a hug the moment he answers, and ramble about how sorry he is and that he was only joking and how he really, truly does love him and Tango more than anything in the world, and "please don't be sad, I will always love you I promise"-- And Scott just reassures him that he understood he didn't mean it (even though it did bother him a little, but he decides he'll just mention that later). Maybe they message Tango to come over and they all just fall asleep together that night only for Martyn to wake up and find them sleeping soundly in a tangled pile, thinking to himself 'How the heck did Scott's bfs break into our base am I really that heavy of a sleeper?' In conclusion, they're all idiots in love.

Scott and Impulse... yeah, that's a tough one. I would imagine that they'd heal eventually and start being friends again, but as you said, the speed and intensity at which that happens in SL would not make much sense when applied to the TL universe. And it wouldn't make sense for someone to pressure them into being on a team together since not doing THAT again was suppose to be Grian's entire takeaway after TL. So with all that in mind, here's the best take on this I can come up with:

Tango is very understanding about Scott's dislike for Impulse. He still hangs out with him, but constantly lets his boyfriend know that he is under no obligation to hang out with them or befriend Impulse just because he's someone close to him. Scott is fine with this at first, but later, he starts to view it as a challenge. He thinks back to what Cleo said to him during TL, how back then, she suggested that he try to get along with Jimmy since even though they'd broken up at the time, they weren't leaving each other's lives completely any time soon. He thinks the same applies to Impulse and how if he and Tango's friendship was able to make it through the mess that was Trust Life, then Impulse probably isn't going anywhere either.

Impulse still feels genuinely sorry and regretful for everything he did and said to Scott. He's spent some time before SL making up with Jimmy, but has made little headway with Scott. Scott doesn't outright hate him anymore but they're still far from friends. Impulse continues to feel guilty for his actions all the way till SL and he spends the beginning of that game quietly approaching Scott and trying to make conversation with him. Scott doesn't push him away, but he is still hesitant to stick around him. Nevertheless, Impulse continues to help him out occasionally during that first day, leaves little things for him like iron or food, asks him if he needs anything or if he could get him something, maybe shoves him out of the way and takes an unexpected headbutt from a stray mountain goat for him at one point... But sometime later, Impulse gets his secret task that says he needs to "make cherrywood his entire personality." He sees that Scott and Gem have decided to build their bases in the only cherrywood biome on the server, so now he's gone and made things even more awkward by being forced to do the same through his task. He continues to hang around them in the same biome while being entirely unable to explain that he's not trying to be weird, he's just doing it for his task and Scott just happened to want to set up his base in the one biome he really needed to be surrounded by for the day. So ensues some very awkward tension that carries on throughout the day where Scott feels as though it would be too harsh of him to outright ask Impulse to leave while Impulse continues to panic internally and Gem tries her best as a mutual friend of them to lighten the atmosphere a little and defuse the tension. Surprisingly, it works and the three of them end up having a little fun.

At the end of the day, when Impulse is FINALLY able to reveal his task, Scott is the first one to burst out laughing at how ridiculous it is--"THAT was why you wanted to build in that biome? Ha! Oh my god-!"--Any lingering discomfort between them is effectively broken and Scott decides that he's alright having Impulse stick around the same biome as he and Gem for the rest of the game. He wouldn't just force the guy to build an entirely new base somewhere else, would he? That would just be overly petty. They continue to talk throughout the game, grow a little closer, Gem continues to mediate between the two of them and tries to get them to see the good in each other. Maybe she has a few one-on-one conversations with each of them about this when they're alone and the timing calls for it. Meanwhile Jimmy and Tango (Tango especially) start to wonder how the heck these two are so okay with each other now. Scott tells them about it later. But yeah, that's about the best I can do for how wild their situation is. Would love to hear some of your ideas if you have any or ever come up with some!

[valeriefauxnom]

Summer Euden's Other Set of Expressions

So, as we know, Summer Euden was long awaited ever since he and the main crew gained their own outfits in the first year, where he looked like this:

Cleo, Ranzal, and Luca all surprisingly were apart of the first summer rounds of units, the latter two as easy-to-get 4 stars. Those are all big names, so it made sense that they were going to be a lot more sparing when it came to the remaining Big Two (Euden and Elly) in the original group. Indeed, next summer neither of them appeared as playable units.

Third summer, however, in what was probably a subtle signal they were going downhill and trying to give The People what they wanted by throwing out all the favorites with a jam-packed summer with favorites like Leonidas, Chelle, Ieyasu, and Mitsuhide, Summer Euden finally entered the game (and as a completely free giveaway that you didn't even have to fill out a friendship meter because Euden is friendly with most everyone!), making minor adjustments to his outfit:

Aside from the most notable change that he obviously now lacks an inner shirt (of which I'm likely going to attribute to him just feeling comfortable enough doing that around friends with the whole royal etiquette standards around dress, etc), he also gained the same pendant thing (presumably Zethia's?) that he's holding in his Gala on his belt, as well as a little hair tie and flower necklace.

Even before he became playable, though, he already had a pretty varied set of expressions (that he didn't change at all for his playable variety). Here are his 'eye parts' (if you've never seen/used the fantastic portrait viewer, essentially, dragalia divided expression into eyes and mouth, so they could mix and match as well as animate the blinking/talking):

As just said, his second summer outfit carried his expression capacity over, cut and paste. Made sense, it's his same 'art' but altered a bit.

...Except summer Euden was notable in a few different ways. First: his animation angle. Previously, I believe all units in Dragalia kept the camera angle they were using when attacking all the time as not to mess up players. Euden, however, experimented with camera angle, starting off his skills in a way that flipped the camera to facing him for a hair. You could disable it, but still.

More curiously, he also gained a new skill cutaway art wherein he just really looks like he's about to beat you up for stealing his friend's Legos or something and is in the course of getting ready to deck you very hard:

This is obviously in the pose of his full unit art, but definitely isn't exactly it. This seems to be what they did for most units, cut out or alter their full art to use for their skill cut ins.

...But they also usually used this cut-down version of the full screen art as their 'resting'/talking art for most characters.

But Euden uses his old summer art's pose and talking art. Okay.

...And yet, his cut down version also has a full range of expressions:

He only uses like, two, three expressions in all, for his skill and damaged art, and yet he has all of these expression possibilities.

This is all a lot to say that despite having a full spread of emotions for what would normally be his talking art, they instead went for the altered version of his original summer art for reasons unknown. If I had to guess, I'd say that his art was too 'dynamic' and screen-consuming compared to most art, and just too far a departure from most talking portaits. This is a mock up of what Summer Euden alone would have looked like on screen:

So, uh, yeah. That's how summer Euden has not just one but two sets of full expressions!

As a sign-off, in case you never saw it since while Euden was a pretty good free unit, he was competing in a vicious shadow economy and thus didn't see much use, here's his victory pose!

[jecksaa]

He Tried His Best

Idea: This is purely because @slytherizz disrespected me earlier today. So I wrote Leander smut just for her! But i hope you all enjoy this, along with the misery she will feel! Pairing: Leander Prewett x F!MC (Saoirse Ryan - see what I did there) Word: 2.1k Tags: Quidditch Match, It has Smut... I'm not spoiling it, SHE HAS TO READ IT TO FIND OUT! A/N: If we friends, and you disrespect me, you get smut writing for you with your least favourite character. So I hope lessons were learnt today. AND PLEASE MDNI - 18+ ONLY

As Leander got changed into his Quidditch uniform, his hands begun to shake. The nerves becoming overwhelming. No one was sure how Gryffindor managed to pull themselves out of a losing streak and make it to the Final. But here he was. Taking a breath to steady himself, of course they were up against the best team in the school, Slytherin. Imelda made sure her team was top notch, drills daily, she was relentless. And if Leander was honest with himself, he was a bit scared. “Come on, Mate. Time to kick some snake butt!” Garreth clapped him on the back, startling him slightly. “Yeah, right.” Leander grabbed his broom and followed his team mates out of the locker room. They all stood on the pitch, brooms in hand, awaiting orders from Kogawa to take flight. Leander looked over the Slytherin team, Imelda had been captain since Quidditch was reinstated at the start of their six year. She was able to recruit Sebastian for his build, he had only become bigger since training with the strict Slytherin, a terrifying beater for sure. But there was only one person on the team he was truly afraid of, Saoirse Ryan, the new fifth year. Now a seventh year, she was lively, loved getting into arguments, and gods was she the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her bangs framed her face so nicely. Her eyes always looked like the start of a sunset; a tinge of orange flickered around the lightest brown he’d ever seen. Those eyes had been burning a hole into him since they stepped onto the pitch. It was known that she hated him, but he couldn’t help but like her. *whistle blow*

Kogawa altering the two teams to get into position, the atmosphere was heavy, the crowd was loud. Both sides chanting for their houses, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw picking sides and joining in the fun. Gryffindor had been labelled the underdogs this year, Leander wanted to do his best this game, even if they didn’t win. He didn’t want to regret not going all out on his last game ever. He took his spot as Keeper, he scanned the sky, Garreth was on his left, Sebastian was opposing Garreth, he said a small prayer for his teammate. His eyes found Saoirse, the fastest chaser this school had to offer. *siren sound* He watched as everyone took off, becoming a blur. He needed to stay focused, eyes on the chasers. The first couple of Quaffle’s had been easy to stop, ramping up over time as everyone settled into their rhythm. Swaying back and forth on his broom, watching as his teammates fought tooth and nail to stop the Slytherin chasers from getting through, and there she was, Saoirse. She was wicked fast on a broom, Imelda made sure of that. The way she pulled her broom up slightly told Leander she was going for a curve throw; he was thankful that he had watched her closely enough to figure out her tells. Dipping to the right, catching the Quaffle and stopping the 10 points that would have brought them to a draw. He could hear half the crowd cheer for him, it felt nice. It was a close game, 130 points to 140 points, Gryffindors way and it was so close to being over. Everyone was beginning to grow tired, arms sore, and Leander’s chest hurt a bit more than he had expected from using himself as a shield. He could see Imelda and Nellie racing for the snitch, Northcott protecting Brattleby as he scored against Slytherin. Leander just had to hold out a bit longer, stopping another shot taken by Flint. Come on, they were so close.

The sound of Garreth getting hit by a bludger drew his attention away for two seconds longer than it should have, Saoirse seizing her opportunity to take a shot that would finally go through. Leander’s eyes snapping to the Quaffle, diving for the ball. Catching it with his right arm, the momentum throwing him into the goal post. The pain radiated through his body as his ribs connected, taking the wind out of him. “IMELDA REYES HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH, SLYTHERIN HAVE WON.” Kogawa’s voice resonated around the pitch. A flock of green rushed to Imelda, a well-deserved celebration. The Gryffindor players made their way off the pitch, defeated, tired, and sore. Gods, Leander wandered if he had cracked a rib or two. The locker room was quiet, everyone feeling a bit solemn. Leander sunk himself to the bench, hoping the pain would subside before he took to the showers. Getting lost in his own thoughts, he could have played better, but overall, they still would have lost. Pulling his jersey up, his ribs had begun to bruise, traveling towards his back. “Shit Lee, that looks rough.” Garreth said as he dried off his hair “Here, take this.” He passed him a vial full of green liquid. Leander took the potion “Thanks, Gaz.” Downing the contents, feeling the pain subside slightly. He would need to make a visit to Nurse Blainey after a hot shower. His teammates left one by one until it was just Leander left, the pain finally easing he shed his jersey, last time he would wear it. Turning the tap, the water hit the tiled ground. Leander occasionally sticking his hand in to check the temperature. Discarding his pants, he practically threw himself under the water. The scolding relief washing over him, sweat and dirt washed away instantly. The scorching feeling taking away from the throbbing pain that lingered in his ribs. “Leander, you still in here?” A familiar voice called out for him. “Saoirse?” “Yeah.” Her voice grew closer. “What are you doing in here?” Leander questioned. “Garreth said you were still in here.” Why did it sound like she was on the other side of the shower curtain. “That doesn’t answer my question.” His voice filled with concern. “You hit the post pretty hard, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Saoirse sounded concerned, if only he could see her face. “I’m okay, Gaz gave me one of his wiggenweld potions. Feeling gre-“ Leander winced at the pain that shot through his side, cursing himself for talking with his hands so enthusiastically. His hand grabbed for the pain, hunching slightly. The sound of metal clinking on metal quickly filled his ears, eyes darting to the now opened curtain, blown wide at the sight of Saoirse standing there with a panicked expression. “Are you okay?” She asked. “I-uh…” Leander was unable to string two words together, quickly covering his exposed manhood. Saoirse’s cheeks flushed a similar shade to his uniform, he had never seen her like this. She truly was the most beautiful witch he had ever seen. Her eyes ran over his body, he had never felt more self-conscious before this moment. He could feel himself harden as her gaze ran lower, he was frozen. Her tongue wet her lips gently, parting them slightly. “I have another...ah... potion… if you need it?” The same gaze flickering back to the still prominent bruise on his side. Her hand held the potion towards him. “Umm… can you look the other way…” Leander felt the heat bloom over his entire body. “Of course.” Turning to face away, hand still held out. Leander sheepishly took the vial and quickly downed it before handing it back. “Thank you.” He could already feel the pain fading. She was still standing there, within reach. “Do you need anything else?” He couldn’t wrap his head around why she was still here.

Turning back to face him, cheeks still flushed. “I don’t, but I think you do.” Flashing him a wink, followed by a smirk. Kicking off her shoes, she took a step into the cubical, Leander instinctively stepped back. His back pressed into the cold tiles, unable to escape. Another step closer, Leander threw his hands up in protest. His erection now free from his grasp, eyes shut tight. “What are you doing?” His voice cracked. There was no response, it felt like an eternity of silence. He wandered if she had left, seen his naked body and ran for the hills. He blinked his eyes open slowly, the water running down in front of him, his vision slight obscured. But she was still standing there, her socks soaked through. Her Quidditch uniform slightly damp from the splash back. Her eyes were dark, like they had found her prey. Her lip was pulled between her teeth, biting down gently. Saoirse’s hand reached for the still outstretch arms, pulling him towards her. Stumbling forward, his hands landing on her to catch himself. Her arms extended around Leander’s neck, pushing herself up on her tippy toes. She pulled him to meet her lips, capturing him in a kiss. Her lips felt so soft against his, her fingers scratched at his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. Leander’s hands gripped at her hips. This felt like a dream, maybe he hit his head instead and he was currently unconscious. If that was the case, he never wanted to wake up again. Her hand trailed down his side, slightly grabbing at the bruise that was still present. Leander winced at the pain, oh… this wasn’t a dream. Saoirse’s fingers danced over his chest, gradually pushing him backwards, breaking the kiss apart. The tiles felt cold against his skin once more, the water drenching her entirely. Her hand pushed the shower head upwards, Leander’s eyes dragged over how the wet uniform clung to her form. Whimpering quietly at the sight, fingernails trailing down his chest, over his abdomen, he could feel his muscles tighten at the touch.

He watched her sink to her knees, running her tongue over her lips as she grasped his length between her hands. He had imagined this scene so many times before, how she would look, feel. Fuck, this was better than anything he could ever conjure himself. Her tongue run up the underside of his cock, flicking the tip as she slightly pulled away. Whimpering louder this time. She was peering up at him, watching his reaction. Her eyes looked like a storm was building at the end of October, that orange glint that danced with the foliage changing between seasons. “F-uck…” Leander’s hands flew to her hair as she took him in her mouth. Completely wrapped around him, her head began to bob ever so gently, swirling her tongue around his leaking tip. One hand slowly jerked his length, the other gripped his thigh, supporting herself. Gods, the sounds she was making made his head spin, humming against his skin. His hands tightened in her hair, sliding between where her ponytail started. Leander pushed slightly, his length dipped deeper into her mouth, she didn’t seem to mind. His head fell back against the tiled wall, desperate moans echoed in the bathroom. He hoped no one came back looking for him. Please, he needed this. Saoirse’s pace picked up, cheeks hollowing as she sucked at him harder. Leander’s hips bucked against her, hands holding her head in place. Her moans vibrated around his length, thrusting deeper, grazing the back of her throat. Her nails dug into his thigh; his groans grew louder. The build up of his release was approaching, his fingers gripped tighter in her hair. Pulling her further onto himself, his hips thrusting quicker. Leander could thank Godric himself for this feeling, her damp swollen lips around his cock felt like heaven. Her muffled moans mixing with his, the sound she made every time his cock hit the back of her throat. Small praises left his lips, a numbness spread throughout his body, it sent a tingle up his spine. “Yes, fuck- yes!” His grip was relentless, forcing his entire length inside her mouth. Her eyes watered as his release coated her throat. Holding her there for a second longer than he should of, she pushed at his thighs. Releasing his grip, she broke away from his cock. Chest heaving as her breath caught up to her. “Fucking hell, Leander. A warning would have been nice.” Rising from her knees, her voice sounded cross with him but her lips pulled into a smirk. “Sorry… it just felt really good.” His voice a little meek, an octave lower than normal. “Well, you can consider that my apology then. It was partially my fault you hurt yourself.” “Oh, well then… Apology accepted.” The noise that left Saoirse caught Leander off guard, he wasn’t sure he had ever heard her laugh before. It was a sound he would like to hear more of.

[pomefioredove]

Hi congrats on 500 followers!!! Love your writing

Thanks for doing this interesting event and this is my first time joining one, so I'm not sure if I'm doing something right lol

I'm just going to write how I know people describe me for personality and how I'm like. And no first years pls

My personality most people describe as hot and cold in a way while also being very loving and supportive, as in I'm very quick at changing moods like a filp of a switch. I care far too much and try to help others (be it family or strangers) and was called very soft for it if not for my alter ego, a split personality of mine that is fairly aggressive to others and is very protective of me. (something, something because of ptsd, autism and a complete mindbreak in the words of my doctor)

Considered a bit obsessive and protective of people I really care for/love like my siblings for example as I'm very willing to throw hands whenever harm comes to them

Eldest of 7 siblings and is like lilia specialising in babysitting, would occasionally go full mother hen Mode and fuss on people. Was raised as a guy for the first 7 years of life.. So considers myself gender fluid leaning feminine (afab)

I'm fairly tall at 5'8 and slender, long knee length black hair that is straighter than my sexuality and gender. not really beautiful even though even though my true name translates to lady brilliant beauty (more of a title than a name lol)

My interest is in the arts and history (mainly in fashion and architecture, don't ever ask me about war cus idk), I've picked up pretty much every single art skill like pokemon cards like for example : embroidery, sewing, painting, sculpting, cetak fabric and dyeing it(draw designs on fabric with hot wax, and proceed to dye it with a paintbrush, a really old traditional art) , drawing, singing, dancing, lace making, soap making, and other DIY stuff

My hobbies are reading, sewing, embroidery, bird watching, dancing, cooking, gardening, and baking. I work mainly as a tailor and sew custom clothes for daily wear and special occasions.

My lifestyle is pretty simple as I don't go out a lot and barely interact with people other than family and clients, tho I mainly stay home as my studio is just at home so I don't go outside much but I still do found fun going out once a week and doing various of activities. I'm still completing my training to be a full flege tailor at a local trade college.

I'm very lazy and gets tired easily, so you can found me falling asleep any time anywhere like silver. Tho social interactions and anxiety drains me the most and is the main culprit on making me fell asleep randomly. I don't really indulge myself other than DIY projects, stuff like games and makeup somewhat bores me and food doesn't really have my interest even though I found so much fun baking and cooking. but I still do it on occasion and do enjoy trying out new games, makeup techniques and recipes. I'm more disciplined on my time and follow my personal rules and laws to a t. tho my schedule is still sporadic, I timed everything I do daily and at most would spend 2 hours a day on gaming and movie watching..

That's all I can think from the top of my head currently, if it's too much pressure or if you don't feel comfortable for any reason, I don't mind if you delete this instead, have a nice day!!

I match you with 𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

The First Impression:

...Admittedly, I am very drawn by the tailor thing. We've heard a million renditions of Vil and the manager, the co-star, the makeup artist, etc, but tailor is new and adds a whole different dynamic, IMO.

You exist completely outside of Vil's high-stress world, and he finds that quite charming. You're not a model, not an actor, not even a petty famous designer (who refuses to take any of his notes, SMH). But Vil cares far more about skill than status, and so, you immediately catch his eye.

Why He Fell:

There are as many differences as there are similarities, those of which Vil learns to adapt to (though, he really wishes you'd stop calling yourself lazy and not beautiful, when that's obviously not true). And despite your tendency to stay in your comfort zone, he comes to understand that you're open to trying new things, which is probably one of his favorite things about a person. (He takes a lot of pride in teaching you new makeup techniques).

You're responsible, you have goals, you focus on refining your skills... he sees a lot of himself in you, in all the best ways, and he's somewhat relieved by how mature and intelligent you are. He's absolutely enamored with your technical skills, as well, especially in sewing- he might even find himself coming to you for advice.

The Relationship:

You and Vil experience love in all its forms in a very similar way. You're passionate, protective of your loved ones, and deeply caring despite everything. Your shared "motherly" traits balance each other perfectly, and makes your relationship very equal in all ways... just as long as you'll let him pamper you every once in a while.

[amethystamanda]

Historical Gigs: Midwife/Suggestions for others

These are sets of odd jobs that your sims can take on the side to make some money or help out in the community. I haven't seen any specifically historically-based ones, so I decided to make some.

Currently, there's one set, with plans for more. There's also a form linked below to give suggestions.

These are rabbitholes only.

MIDWIFE GIGS:

Why I chose this one to start: I've heard stories all my life about my own great-grandmother, Aunt Rachel, who would be called out of bed at literally any time of the day, any day of the year, to get in a tiny boat to head out to help a woman give birth. She would be gone for days, leaving her own family behind so that another one would hopefully have not only a new member, but also keep the mother/wife/daughter that they already had.

A general historical career option for women, throughout most of history, going back literally thousands of years. I tried my best to be fairly non-specific in my language so that it should cover most eras. There's reference to 'the Lady' and 'the young maid,' both of which should be fairly generic, I think.

There are 5 different gigs at present, with different recommended skill levels. I chose parenting skill, as that deals with children, and I would assume most midwives would historically have been mothers, grandmothers, etc. They will also gain a tiny bit of parenting skill at the gig.

Male sims can't see these gigs, since it's historically specifically a woman's profession. Teen sims can see some, but not all, since I would think experience would be expected for helping the Lady than for lower level gigs.

The customers vary by gig--a man looking for help for his wife (he may not be married, but he should be a male sim), a woman, or a child/teen. If you don't have enough sims in your save, some may be generated. No babies will be born as a result of these gigs.

The length and pay vary. Not all gigs will show at once--some prefer higher levels of experience/a higher reputation. They're available on the phone or computer (assuming your computer shows Odd Jobs, I can't guarantee it will work on all cc computers), and presumably anywhere else Odd Jobs show, if you have a mod to make them show up elsewhere.

They're available whenever Odd Jobs are available, I haven't altered that, even though a midwife would be called out at all hours of the day and night. They refresh daily. There is a delay before your sim leaves--they should leave at the start of the next hour. That gives them time to gather their supplies, put on clothes that are easy to clean or that they don't mind not getting clean, tell their eldest daughter to mind the children, etc.

At present, the longest is, I think, 12 hours. In reality, a midwife may have been gone for days or weeks, until the mother could manage on her own/arrangements were made. That was what they did. But it's not really realistic for most people's aging to have a sim gone in a rabbithole for a week. I'm also not sure what would happen if you switched households--I think they'd be gone until after you switched back, and then they'd just continue where you left off, which would be okay for a few hours, but not so much if it's going to be days. They also would often go without pay other than the room and board that was provided, or be paid in food/other goods, but that's also not something that would reflect well in game.

Some of the endings of the gigs aren't pretty. A failure for a midwife is a failure for more than the midwife, and I did not pretend otherwise. Feel free to skip this one if you can't/don't want to face that. Some of the endings are happy, and you should see more of these if you pick gigs that match your sim's skill level. There are two happy and two sad endings for each gig.

DOWNLOAD:

You NEED Island Living. That's where odd jobs come from.

The customer filter file (amethystlilac_HistoricalOddJobs_CustomerFiltersREQUIRED.package) is required. It will be used across multiple types of gigs to determine who the customers are. You WILL get errors and the job picker won't open if you don't have that file.

Choose whichever of the other files you want in your game. Currently that's only Midwife.

Download: http://simfileshare.net/folder/224340/

SUGGESTIONS:

I am open to suggestions for gigs. Otherwise I'll end up only making gig I want to send my current sims on, which is limited by what they're doing at the moment and my imagination.

Submit suggestions here: https://forms.gle/D9WwFALr91H4P5XW8

No google account is required. It's open to everyone.

I'm going to be honest: paying patrons would have a higher chance of having their suggestions happen. As I currently don't have any paying patrons, I won't be making a post for that at this point. If that's something that interests you, you can sign up here: https://www.patreon.com/amethystlilac

Recommended Other Mods to Complement These:

By @midnitetech, Odd_Jobs_HideMaxis. Hides the game's odd jobs so that custom odd jobs are much more likely to appear. Only use this is you don't want to also use EA's odd jobs. Available here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/mini-mods-69172769

By Ilkavelle, Odd Jobs Unlocked For Children. Not currently useful for anything I have, but likely in the future. And the One Time Jobs for Children and Teens that it works with is another possible source of income for some historical saves. Available here: https://ilkavelle.wixsite.com/simsquest/post/one-time-jobs-for-children-and-teens

[elvenbeard]

Today's modding shenanigans!

Today I wanted to test out ACM a bit :D I think I'd most enjoy using it as an additional tool for making custom outfits and seeing how different item appearances work together, less as my primary tool to creating custom outfits as such (also, it is a bit buggy for me and I can't seem to export appearances reliably for some reason).

Since you can alter custom appearances with it too, though, you could definitely mod one "base outfit" and then change the colors spontaneously for a different vibe (for example, I could make an apperance for Kerry wearing one t-shirt and then change the shirt decal or color on the fly in game without cluttering his .app file with a dozen different appearances that are virtually the same just different colors!). Wondering though if there exists a resource that lists every item's appearance names (cause some are super specific and hard to guess, like... instead of "black" or "smiley-face" you have appearances like "6th street" or "black_capsules") for this purpose... and if not, I'll probably make one just because I would find it useful to have xD

Also, ACM is really neat for taking off Kerry's jewelry on the fly for certain pics XD Or changing nail colors and things like that! In all these regards this is a super useful resource as is already, but I'm excited where the mod makers will take it :D (also... random sidenote, but can we talk about Dante for a moment? I'm a little bit in love, and I need his shirt not only for Kerry but also for Vince XD).

Then some silly behind the scenes stuff xDD @netcess said that Reed really needs a party outfit with a cool hat, so I put something quick and simple together for her and... I wanted to take a pic and as I went into Photomode, Vince spawned straight across from Reed and looked so disappointed at him partying without him when so many pressing issues are at hand XD Just really fun little moment I wanted to capture, intensified by facepalm XD

Honestly he rocks it XD Might make a recolor to fit his suit when the mood strikes xD

And finally: who wore it better? XD

(giggling and kicking my feet at how his hair and beard match now :3)

No but I actually tried my hand at editing this hair mesh for Kerry, cause it was clipping a bit here and there! This is done super quick and dirty like... In theory I know I could export his headmesh and then fit it exactly to that, but for now this aint so bad already actually! :D No more clipping into the side of his head and the hairline in the front looks better. I left out Johnny's hair cap and all that because I wanted to go for a really really short, very freshly shaved look for this like...

Something he would've done at the end of his tour right before coming back to Night City. Keeping the long hair consistent for all concerts. And as I said, I 100% get why he has that look, like... It has old, seasoned rocker vibes, it's so much less clean and more himself than his 2077-appearance like... natural hair color, not styled at all, embracing himself again with the whole "I'm gonna name my next album "Kerry Eurodyne" and go back to my roots thing, he looks like he just came off stage, sweaty and tousled, so... yes!! I do love it for all those reasons, but idk... I feel like, it's also at the same time something low maintenance that he doesn't have to pay a lot of mind to, escaping into his music and career after apparently losing V. And I think with the tour over and with getting V back so unexpectedly, he'd change things up a bit again. It's a concert/tour look for me. And this style is also low maintenance, while still Kerry, still rebellious, but a little more cleaned-up, in control of his life, if that makes sense?

@pinkyjulien sorry for stealing your tags from my other post, but you put it into words so well, on point!!

Especially your last point, cutting/shaving your hair to mark a new beginning is 100% such a thing he'd do!! So yeah, I think I'll stick with this for his two-years-plus-four-months-later look xD

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hi! do you know of any fics where Allison was bitten instead of Scott in season 1?

Hi anon! @kevaaronday made this list and said "Only found a few exactly like you wanted so heres some werewolf!allison too!"

Take My Hand (We’ll Make It, I Swear) by narceus (1/1 | 23,065 | Teen | Allydia) Laura's back in Beacon Hills, and she's got her newest pair of betas--good girls, both of them, and if she bit Allison mostly out of revenge in the first place, well, they're pack now. The three of them are family, and Derek too, when he eventually gets out here, after Laura deals with the mysterious spirals appearing around their territory. At least, that's the plan.

Plans have a way of going awry, but packs--those have a way of coming together, in the end.

Different Perspectives by George_Costanza_ate_my_soup90 (3/3 | 17,147 | Teen | Scallison) What if Allison had been the one bitten instead of Scott?

Fight the Night by Tarvera (8/8 | 12,911 | Mature | Scallison) One night, one hour, one minute, can change everything. Peter is just a little more feral the night at the school and a little more desperate for pack. He takes a chance and four more teenager's lives are forever altered by his actions.

Ten Years by Waynesgrayson (1/1 | 11,367 | Explicit) The wolf hung from the ceiling, his body draining onto her skin, his teeth in a pile next to her.

A small voice sounded from the loud noise of her mind, “Allison?” the voice was shaky, and didn't match the always steady girl, “Allison, are you okay?”

Allison breathed in deeply and licked her lips, swallowing the wolfs blood. She opened her eyes and could feel them fill red. 

"I'm the alpha now."

Triumvirate Pilgrimage by fandomdough (1/1 | 8,964 | Teen | Allison/Scott/Derek)

Beacon Hills wasn't supposed to be any different from anywhere else, but it was where Allison Argent lost everything she once knew and ended up finding herself and her soulmates.

Pawn by Thatoneloser_kid (1/1 | 5,850 | Gen | Allydia) Lydia told herself that she went to all the lacrosse games and practices for Jackson, he was the person she was dating after all. She told herself that it had absolutely nothing to do with the pretty right winger who looked at her all doe eyed and dazed. 

Her name was Allison Argent and she had moved to Beacon Hills a little over three months ago and, at first, she had kept to herself. She was shy, she would walk down the hallway with her books clutched tightly to her chest and her head down, scurrying away from any crowded place, making it difficult for Lydia to strike up any kind of conversation with her. 

The Banshee and the She-Wolf by MorganRay (1/1 | 4,516 | Teen | Allydia) Allison moves to Beacon Hills with her family to hunt werewolves, but when a hunt goes wrong, she receives the bite. Now, Allison will do anything to hide her new werewolf lifestyle from her family. When two of Allison's friends, Stiles and Lydia, discover her secret, Allison's life gets difficult. However, Lydia has a secret of her own that she's not too keen on Allison discovering. Cora Hale, local bad-girl werewolf of the Hale pack, takes an interest in the new wolf, but can Allison trust her? When Allison discovers her family's dark past, can she even trust them? And what's worse, Allison is developing a dangerous set of crushes that are doubly difficult to deal with as a new werewolf.

Then she fell in with Scott and Stiles.

And the Walls Come Crumbling Down by kiranightshade (1/1 | 3,960 | Explicit | Stallison) Alternate season one ending where Peter remains the alpha after killing Kate, Stiles says yes to the bite, and Allison is recruited once everything calms down. 

Also, Stiles falls for Allison while everyone tries to tell Scott that stalking Allison is not good.

My Girlfriend is a Werewolf by fandomdough (1/1 | 2,260 | Teen | Scallison) This is a day he won't forget. This is the day Scott finds out that Allison is a werewolf.

Changeable by clotpolesonly (1/1 | 1,476 | Gen | Allison/Laura) "The shape we take reflects the person that we are."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

--

In which Allison is bitten and Laura helps her through it.

A wolf, wolf and I by puppybusby (1/1 | 1,066 | Gen | Allydia) “It's just a study date Stiles.” Allison sighed.

“It's never just a study date.” Stiles replied with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Have you learnt nothing? Study date is code for making out.”

Body Language by hazelNuts (1/1 | 845 | Teen | Allydia) Being a newly bitten werewolf, Allison is still figuring out how to interpret all the input she getting from other people. She knows, though, that when in doubt, it's best to ask.

‘Hey, Lydia,’ Allison says with a smile. 

‘Hey.’ Lydia’s greeting sounds muffled. Not strange since she’s half crawled into her locker. 

Allison doesn’t need to see Lydia’s smile to know the girl is happy to see her, she can hear it in the quick double-thump in Lydia’s heartbeat.

For Teen Wolf Femslash Bingo prompt: Canon Divergent AU

[dazzle-writes]

Hey! I saw you had match up open and I almost jumped for you seeing trigun on that list and I practically ran to your asks to send this.

So obvious I'd like a trigun match up (any type/timeline is fine) and possibly headcanons!

I am a adult male and I have albinism. I have purple/pink eyes, white really messy hair and pale skin. I am the holder of adhd and autism and love to collect random trinkets like rocks, feathers or just like a fistfull of moss and keep it. I'm a pretty lone liver and like to have my own quiet time but I seek out people who can respect my boundaries in when I do and don't want to be touched, be around noise or people. I am a gardening student and I love learning about different flora and plants and what good they do in gardens or forests or how they can be used as simple remedies like sore throaths or headaches. I like to travel and hike but at nights I like to just take a moment to breathe and adore the surrounding. Also I'm a big fan of cuddling even tho I'm not a fan of much touching, cuddling is for the level 10 friendship only. Idk what else to put here but sorry if there is writing mistakes, English is not my first language and I'm super excited

- Moon

(Don't worry I also saw the second ask!!)

omg I've been WAITING to see someone I could match up with my pookie tristamp Knives and its YOU!!!

~I think you'd both stare at each other for a few long seconds and he's internally going "Is that me? Is that my reflection?" because he has never seen a human with albinism before!!! Your relationship definitely starts out more clinical, he wants to observe you a lot because he lies to tells himself that since you're so different, you must be used in the doctor's experiments!!

~he takes one look at your eyes and goes "Nope, this one is Mine To Observe" and tells people its because you look so much like a Plant he wonders if you have any Plant heritage. Nobody believes him, but who's going to call Knives out? He wants to learn EVERYTHING about you, and also understands the need for quiet time. Sometimes he will just. Stand and leave. Because he needs a break.

~Loves learning about autism from you

~Quickly learns that he has autism from this very fact

~(I see you say "holder" and have a signoff so I'm assuming you're part of a system!! If that's not true then pardon my ignorance!!) You explain to him what D.I.D. is and what you hold and he goes "what" and immediately needs to leave and process. (If you tell me more about others alters I'll make a part two with how he interacts with them!! ;).) He comes back with a million questions which makes you need a break and just. Its a long game of phone tag with the Tism Social Timer.

~When you explain what flora is and that you are a gardening student, it's all over. He falls right then and there. Hard. And in denial.

~He does mess up a lot, so be patient with him!! He is navigating so many new territories with you and his own emotions.

~Always speaks softly to you, but his tone is always stern.

~Will occasionally just. Stare. He likes looking at you.

~Introduced you to his sisters and god they thought you were one of them. I hc that Plants make noises like birds or dolphins but smoother and softer and the just are like OwO?!?! Is he one of us?!?! And they chirp at you and freak you out a bit.

~Knives is very touch starved but also cannot stand touch if not with someone very close. He loves to lie with you in bed and hold pinkies.

~His face is always kinda neutral? Don't take it personally.

~He kinda starts slowing down on his violence once he meets you, and just steals plants and leaves instead of Murdering Everyone, but starts to collect little things for you because of your crow-habits.

~Once yall are close enough, he cuddles you in his blade snuggie. He loves leaning up against the bedframe with you on top so he can put his head on your head.

~Possesive of you when you aren't around. If someone mentions you he eithers threatens them with bodily harm for being close to you or begs commands them to tell him what they know about you.

~Is not unreasonable, if someone talks to you/touches you without knowing you are taken and you correct them he gets butterflies because omg you like him so much and you only wanna be his-

~If they disrespect your boundaries? Game over. They become the doctors newest subject.

nsfw!!!!

~This hoe is a big ass VIRGIN

~Eveyone is always like "omg hes so top and dom and sex god" Knives has never seen a human penis in his life and has no clue what to do.

~Very clinical and experimental at first!! Like slearning what works for you both

~It would please him greatly if this man can cockwarm pLEASE LET HIM-

~no noise except for gasps and asking questions

~Medium sex drive, but never initiates. Always teases that you humans are so "carnal" and only he can truly make you feel like this.

~Surprisingly talkative? He'll be telling you about his day and jerking you off at the same time. There's a pop quiz at the end. Once he gets more into sex and anything kinky he will punish you if you don't answer correctly.

~Gets more playful once he gets intimate like that. Occasionally grabs your ass and just??? Walks away???

~Starts to wear his blade snuggie more because his body is for YOU babes.

~Plant genetalia is weird because he has? Both? And it all glows?

~Definitely has glowing cum.

~Plant do have a mating cycle where they go through "Blooming" season. Gets really clingy and irritable from Plant hormones, so be gentle with him.

AHHHHHH I hope you enjoyed!!!!!!

[sinister-faye]

One thing that bugs me above anything else in games or movies. When we are in a fantastical new realm or planet. And their moon is just straight up a copy pasted image of our moon. Like you know. The thing you all know and learn about since we are about two. You can't fool me. I know what our moon looks like.

Examples: not to be like those YouTube click bait bitches but circled below are the parts of Luna(the name of our moon, real unique I know) that match with a counterpart.

Mario Odyssey. Zoomed in on this portion of the moon.

Gears of war, bonus for having two moons buuuut. Ya just rotated the moon 90° to the right and jacked up the brightness. I can do the same in a photo editor.

I just feel like with all the amazing custom artwork you can just make a moon. Or hell use some other moons. There are a lot of moons you could also just copy and paste a pic from. Here. I found one of Charon, Pluto's....moon? (Depending on who you ask)

Awesome. Before like 5 minutes ago I knew Pluto had a heart on it, but I didn't know much about this awesome moon with a little hat on top. What a lovely fantasy, scifi, alternate world moon ya got there. Make new moons. And using our moon as a way to hint that this is our world but different is pretty neat. But ya gotta be subtle about it. Or I'm gonna get on you about that.

Bonus rant:

Side moon bullshit that authors rarely take into account: our moon is kind of crazy unique if you look at the facts.

It is absurdly perfectly aligned to have a solar eclipse so ludicrously lined up. Like holy shit, our moon is just absolutely ideal for eclipses. Most other planets would just be little spots missing from the sun or just covering it for a while. To have the corona around it is pretty god-damned wild. Any closer and the halo ring would be larger. Any further the sub would just go out for a bit.

Tides. The moon is the reason we have tides at all. So elder scrolls Skyrim talking about riding with the tides is like. Bruv, there are 3 moons. Low Tide might not be for another year. And the mere existence of some of these moons can just fuckin go away, and come back on a whim. Let alone one moon literally being up to debate. That alone would wreak havoc on the environment. Since the elder scrolls is in a perpetual Schrodinger's superposition of realistic cause and effect and mega bullshit amazing magic that can just alter reality just cuz.

And lastly I am a sucker for life sustaining moons and dead planets, star wars get bonus points every time we get a moon location, though I feel like yavin 4 would have more reddish tones from reflecting of that gas giant. But whatevs. Episode 4 was more of an indie movie.

[gothcsz]

Dangerous Woman | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~9k wc | Part 2 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier does something that warrants a second visit.

Tags: stalking, lots of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (we're taking it raw), some plot snuck into the porn (sorry not sorry), spanking, light slapping, slight breeding kink..., some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: primas (gn), we're back to being delusional! thanks so so so much for all the lovin the boy is mine got like i'm on my knees for each and every one of u fr 🧎🏽‍♀️ hehe i do plan on posting a final part to wrap this up btw. love the dynamic between these two 🖤 did javi match your freak?! did he match your nasty?!

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You quit going to his apartment entirely. He expects you to meet him there again, and while the urge to return and take things all the way is enticing as hell; you keep yourself from doing so.

Well, technically, you did go by one time and that visit was the reason why you swore the rest of them off.

You watched from the front seat of your car, further down on the other side of the street, as he rested his forearms against the railing; a lit cigarette between his lips while he stared off into the distance.

Your handsome man who somehow looked sexier under distress. Even from how far away you were you could see those defined, prominent wrinkles between his brows.

He was waiting for you. Looking out into the city and wishing that you were prancing your way back to him.

You wondered then if that was a new ritual of his. If he stood out on his balcony every night in hopes of seeing you again. It made your heart soar and goosebumps to erupt along your skin. 

But you want to drive him crazy with your absence, to have him question if what happened that night in his bedroom was as real as it felt. Gaslighting himself into believing it was all just a dream, something his conscience had made up to relieve him temporarily of the hardships of his job.

Part of the sick enjoyment you get comes from your cat and mouse game, with you being the gamemaster. The one who sets the rules and decides when plays are allowed to be made.

You want him to be vigilant, to shine a light against every shadow that crosses his path in hopes that it’s you, the sexy little thing that’s been preying on him for longer than he knows. 

You want to edge him with the anticipation of your next move.

This move won’t happen until further down the line. Things have been tense in the circumstances that overlap both of your careers. Government distrust grows more and more by the day, the drug traffickers get richer by the second.

You just haven’t had the time to follow him as thoroughly as you have been.

Which is why you sunk your claws into someone in his inner circle, a Neil Stoddard that works directly beneath your agent. It had taken you a few tries, causally bumping into him at the market or during a morning jog, until enough rapport was built and you finally convinced him to feed you information on DEA operations.

He was hesitant at first, but you’ve been told that you can be very persuasive; always knowing exactly what to say, which cadence to use and how to shift your body language to match the conversation. Showcasing your skill, you manage to get just about every little detail that you can from the younger agent before anyone else.

It benefits you both in your career and in your efforts to keep tabs on him.

You wonder if he thinks about you in the same way you do him. Does he constantly replay that rainy night in his head? Does he fuck his fist and close his eyes to think of you, the mysterious woman who broke into his apartment just to get on her knees for him? Swallowed his soul in its entirety and then disappeared off into the night?

Fuck, you hope so, because with each day that passes–– you fall deeper in love with Javier Peña.

You’re walking home from work one day, an extra pep in your step at the good news that one of your projects from graduate school is being looked at by some big name publishers back stateside. The excitement of getting your work published by a well known and reputable paper further inflates your ego and the passion that you have for your career.

So you decide to buy something nice for yourself, a materialized pat on the back for being so good at what you do. You enter a quaint antique store that’s nestled in the small plaza a few blocks from your apartment building, eyeing some of the merchandise they have on display.

You’re contemplating whether you want to purchase a set of stained glass table lamps when a distinct glint catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

You turn to see a beautiful engagement ring on display behind the glass counter, its shimmer immediately drawing you to it. You set the lamps down carefully, walking over to the counter to get a better look at the piece of jewelry.

The ring’s silver band is elegantly slender. Intricate filigree work adorns the outer surface with delicate patterns of vines and tiny flowers that spiral gracefully around it. 

At the center sits a stunning marquise cut diamond, its facets catching the light in a soft, romantic sparkle.

You stare at it in awe, imagining it around your finger after he slips it on, still on one knee, while those captivating brown eyes of his stare up at you in nothing but pure love and adoration.

His fiancée. His wife.

Calling the attendant over, she happily lets you try it on incase it needs to be resized.

It doesn’t. It fits just right, making your hand look very lovely. You wriggle your fingers, giggling as it catches the light.

You purchase it, obviously, having her place it in a small, velvety box that you slide into your bag as you thank her for her help; leaving the shop just to walk a few stores down to where they sell lingerie.

There, you buy a new outfit–– this one much more risque than the leather dress that’s neatly tucked away in your closet.

With a small dent in your account, your career on the path of blossoming, and your delusions for him reaching another peak; you go home and plan your next move.

Stoddard tells you about the raid planned to capture Miguel Rodríguez and the fake out involved, since the last time they had targeted him–– bureaucratic bullshit had gotten in the way and prevented the arrest. Something involving the man hiding in the walls and a DEA agent using a sledgehammer to get him out.

Apparently there’s a mole within the Colombian government that’s making it hard to bring the narcos to justice. What’s new? Amidst all this, he mentions how the boss is going to stay behind while everyone else in the department travels to Cali.

This bit of information piques your interest but you keep your reaction neutral. The velvet box in your bag is burning a hole through the leather, reminding you of its existence. You haven’t worn the ring since you tried it on, saving it for the perfect moment.

Like the one that’s just manifested itself.

You get the details of this operation, specifically paying attention to the times so you know at what pace you’ll have to work with.

If your calculations are correct, he’d be all alone in the office well into the night.

You’re an adrenaline junky, clearly, since the idea of sneaking into a government building just to seek pleasure from the DEA attaché has your entire body crackling with electricity.

You thank him as you go your separate ways. The raid is in two days, which will give you more than enough time to get prepared.

Getting ready mellows you out entirely, the only nerves you feel are those of excitement at the prospect of seeing your agent tonight. You’re currently in the bath, your favorite candle lit and on your second glass of wine.

It’d be a massive win for him if they’re able to follow through with the plan. Two of the head honchos in cuffs and behind bars, even if it was the lax walls of a Colombian prison.

Surely it warrants some kind of reward. You did tell him that he’d see you again whenever he did something that was worth your presence. Worth your body.

It could have come sooner, but between the disappearance of Guillermo Pallomari, Christina Jurado’s kidnapping and then Franklin Jurado’s death; fate had other plans.

He just couldn’t catch a break. For his sake, you hope they’re able to get that motherfucker tonight.

Finishing up in the bath, your skin is smooth like the delicate petals of a flower and you smell like a candy shop, all hydrated and plump and ready to be ravaged.

You go through the motions of doing your hair and makeup, this time aiming for a bolder look.

Sharp cat eye liner, classic red lip, thick lashes. You want to mimic the sultry models you see in the high-end magazines.

Dolling yourself up for him is part of your foreplay. You enjoy watching your own transformation, going from a steadfast journalist to a seductive minx at the wave of a makeup brush.

Would he find you attractive? Not your feline alter ego but the real you. The one that camps out in her car more often than not to stalk him, fast food wrappers littering the seats. The woman who broke into his apartment and masturbated using his pillows. The woman using his subordinate to get information about him and his highly classified work operations.

Would the illusion break after so many encounters? Would the allure of your salacious activities dim until that fire is completely smothered with the reality of what you’ve been doing?

Would he even want you if he knew the truth?

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, not even realizing your eyes have glazed over with tears at these thoughts. Your heart aches at the nonexistent rejection.

No, snap out of it. Now is not the time to be thinking of this shit.

Shaking your head, you swiftly get your act together and change into your outfit for the night.

The lingerie set is the epitome of classic elegance with a sexy edge. It consists of a bra, panties, and a garter belt, each piece meticulously designed to celebrate your natural curves and skin tone.

The bra is a balconette style, the cups a luxurious black lace with intricate floral patterns, sheer enough to tease yet opaque enough to leave some things to the imagination. The underwire provides a gentle lift, enhancing the shape of your breasts, while the straps, adorned with tiny satin bows, add a touch of femininity.

The matching panties are a cheeky bikini cut. The front panel is made from the same black lace as the bra, with a subtle scalloped edge that sits gently against your hips. The back is a sheer mesh, offering a tantalizing glimpse of skin with a small satin bow at the waistband. Your ass looks so good.

The garter belt is the pièce de résistance, tying the entire set together. It sits high on your waist, cinching in to create an hourglass silhouette. Four straps extend down, each finished with satin ribbon accents to hold up your thigh-high stockings securely.

You add the accessories: diamond earrings gifted to you by your grandmother, your simple black stilettos and finally–– the ring you purchased at the antique store.

Now in front of a full length mirror, you can’t help but run your hands all over your body. Fuck looking like the high end models from Vogue–– you resemble a god damn Playboy star; sexy enough to warrant your very own centerfold in the magazine.

Maybe you should invest in some bunny ears. Try and be a conejita for one night.

This is what you’d wear on your wedding night, you think, eyes not leaving your reflection as the ring twinkles beneath your bedroom lights. You wouldn’t even wear it in white, the black lace an homage to the erotic start of your relationship with the DEA agent. Your husband.

Your cat mask sits on the bed, right next to your polaroid camera. After you finish eye fucking yourself, you crawl onto the matress and slip it on; obscuring your face in the sexiest way possible.

With all the fuckery he’s had to deal with as of late, you decided you were going to leave some souvenirs behind. A few visuals for him to look at during lonely nights instead of lolling around on his balcony like a neglected puppy.

You begin taking the photos, contorting your body into different erotic positions, getting the best angles. It all comes to you naturally, you’re good behind and in front of the camera.

After a dozen or so snaps of your tits, your ass, your thighs and some cheeky ones of your pretty cunt, you let them develop and take the mask off, putting on a basic satin slip dress to hide your lingerie. 

You were going to be out in a more public space, you didn’t want to risk something happening and for that to leave you basically naked in the streets of Bogotá.

Tossing your belongings into your bag, you drive to the embassy, parking around the back to keep your vehicle hidden from any prying eyes. How ironic. 

The familiar trench coat sits on your shoulders, tied close to keep your naughty outfit out of sight. Your bag hangs from the curve of the inside of your elbow, the kitten mask nestled at the bottom, just waiting for you to don it once more.

In this moment, you feel like one of those cliché romance tropes: surprising your husband at work with skimpy clothes under a fucking coat.

You snort at the realization, but you’re kind of loving this.

When you push open the door to the building, you notice how quiet and empty it is. At the large front desk, an older officer straightens his posture at your entrance.

“Identificación, por favor.”

You bite your lip, praying to god that this works, and dig into your bag to pull out your press lanyard. It has your name on it, what paper you work for along with a photograph that was taken your first day on the job.

You hand it over and he eyes it then you suspiciously, taking in your done up appearance.

“I’ve got some photographs developing in the lab here. Lost track of time at the office which is why I’m stopping by so late. I’ll just be in and out, no worries.” You explain in English with a gentle lilt, hoping that your status as an American will sway him into letting you up.

He hands you back your lanyard. “I’m not supposed to let anyone who isn't employed here in after a certain time. Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana.”

Your eye twitches in annoyance at the denial, your skin prickling with frustration.

You have to see him tonight. No matter what. This senile idiot isn’t going to stop you.

“I didn’t want to do this…” You begin with a sigh, leaning forward against the desk and your coat opens up just enough for him to get a good look down your cleavage, “But I’m also here to visit my fiancé, mi prometido.” You bring your left hand up for him to see the ring that adorns your finger, “He’s been having some tough days and I wanted to surprise him. I’m sure you know him. Javier Peña.”

Now this gets his attention, snapping his gaze from ogling your cleavage to meet your eyes.

“Ah, si, Javier Peña. El jefe de la DEA.”

You nod, seeing his resolve dissipating, and he lazily waves his hand, signaling that you’re good to go up.

“Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche.”

Fuck. Yes. Your nerves morph into excitement as you step into the elevator, hitting the button that goes to his floor.

Pretending to be his to a complete stranger has put you further into a mood, feeling your pulse quickening at the idea of doing it again. Of deceiving the world, warping reality to play into your delusions of being happily engaged to a man who doesn’t even know what you look like.

The elevator comes to a stop, the silver doors opening up to a narrow hallway with various rooms and offices on either side. If you recall correctly, his is further down the hall which is perfect because you need to set your belongings down before making your grand entrance.

You find a place for your things behind the stairwell door, knowing that’s how you’re going to make your escape tonight. You didn’t want to walk past the security guard again and you didn’t want to give him enough time to chase you down into the elevator.

You strip the satin dress, stuffing it into your bag and leaving you just in your undergarments. The polaroids you took are nestled into an envelope and put into the pocket of your trench coat once you have it back on, pulling out your mask and gently bringing it over your face. You apply one final stroke of red lipstick and slip the mesh gloves over your fingers before sneaking your way down the hall.

You press your back against the wall, the tap of your heels muted due to the carpeted floor. Fluttering your eyes close, you force your brain to focus on sound— trying to discern if he is here alone or if he has company.

After a few minutes of listening, you come to the conclusion that he is alone so you just barely poke your head around the corner, eyes scanning the dark room.

It looks like a typical office. Desks sprawled about, a bigger one at the front which you assume to be the secretary’s. The usual fluorescents are dimmed, bathing the room in a transparent darkness.

Across the space is his personal office. It looks like a giant fishbowl at the end of the room, giant windows lining every wall. The blinds are open, giving you a good view of him sitting at the edge of his desk, the phone pressed up to his ear while his large hand nurses a glass of his favorite amber liquor, the familiar cigarette hanging from pointer and middle finger.

You hum diligently. How is he always so fucking handsome?

With catlike suaveness, you move across the room and closer to his office, noticing that the door is ajar, giving you the opportunity to listen in on the call.

Your eyes flit up to the analog clock that hangs on the opposite wall. They’re about to move in on Miguel. 

The tension of this moment, the pure suspense does nothing but aid you and your sexual desires. Whatever news he gets, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be here to console him… with open arms, and open legs, and an open mouth.

Now that you’re closer, you get a better look at him in his typical work outfit. Rolled up white button up, midnight blue slacks and a loose tie. You wonder if he took off the jacket recently or if he’s been walking around like this for a few hours.

Small details like that matter to you. 

You can’t make out the garbling coming from the phone, but you do see the way he exhales and how his shoulders drop. He closes his eyes letting his wispy lashes fan across his skin. Tension rolls off his body in pure relief as he hears that Miguel Rodríguez has finally been arrested and Salcedo was able to get his family safe. 

He returns the phone to the receiver after a few moments, his thick fingers dragging along the plastic and the simple action has a puddle gathering in your panties.

Standing, he makes his way to the large window that overlooks the downtown area of the capitol, the bustling nightlife illuminating the black night sky.

His back is to you, much like the first time you did this dance, smoke from his cigarette curling around him as he takes lengthy drags in self reflection.

You just watch him, once more under his spell while you remain crouched in the shadows.

He’s been through so much, you know this. All the shit with Escobar, getting into bed with drug dealers and murderers just to catch him, only to be taken off right at the end then returning to finish off Cali. 

God that must have been so… depressing. You wish you would have known him then, before the job molded him into more of a cynic.

You just want to comfort and hold him. To love him with every molecule of your existence. 

Don’t worry, mi amor, I’m right here.

With that, you make your appearance, slowly standing and opening the door further.

The shift in the air at your presence has the hairs on the back of his neck standing and he turns his head to the side, catching your silhouette from his peripheral.

“Hola, gatita.”

His voice is smooth and it drips straight to your clit.

“Hey handsome.” 

You close the door behind you, leaning against it as he fully faces you. His brown eyes scan you from head to toe before he moves to sit in the large chair behind his desk, stubbing out his cigarette against the overfilled ashtray.

“You know…” He grunts out, resting his forearm atop of his head lazily as he leans back, “I prayed tonight’s operation would play out as planned. Not because of the metaphorical nail in Cali’s coffin, but in hopes that the win would lure you out.”

“Is that so?” Your heart is racing at his words and his evident craving for you. You try not falter as you slowly make your way around his office, shutting the blinds as you go.

There’s six windows. You’ve got five more to go.

“Mhm,” he hums, glossy eyes following you around the small space, “I just got confirmation that Miguel is in cuffs. On his way to Bogotá. And not even a few minutes later… well, here you are.”

“Here I am…” you flirt, moving on to the next window.

Then the fourth… third…

“How did you know?”

Only two more until you’re secluded in a little bubble of privacy.

“Call it a woman's intuition.”

His jaw ticks, not liking the answer but also not making a fuss out of it. Yet. He wants to enjoy you tonight, to become the keeper of time so he can drag out the hours and devote himself wholly to you. 

He’s missed you entirely too much. It’s a different feeling, this yearning that nips at him. Hardly ever does he think twice about the women he sleeps with.

But there’s something about you and how you popped up in his life so suddenly. How you turned his world on its head.

A kitten size hole has been left in his heart since you left him on his bedroom floor like a toy you weren’t interested in playing with anymore. 

You finish shutting the blinds, turning to face him as he manspreads himself out on his leather chair, rubbing his palm along his clothed thigh. It makes you want to pounce on it, to rub your wet pussy all over him in the same way you had gotten yourself off on his pillow.

You can practically feel his muscles contracting, the slight flex snapping a sharp orgasm out of you. 

“How are you going to thank me tonight, gatita?” His demeanor is vastly different than last time; he’s exuberating some of that dominance you know he possesses.

You remain silent, your gloved hand digging in the pocket of your coat as you pull out the envelope with your pictures in it, bringing it up to teasingly wave around.

His name is neatly written in cursive against the paper and his brows raise in surprise. He hadn’t expected an actual, tangible token of appreciation.

“This is for all your troubles. I know how hard it’s been in your world recently.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. Granted, anyone can observe that his job is fucking difficult without knowing the specifics.

But it’s the way you said it, as if you know more than what you should.

You place the envelope in between your teeth, some of your red lipstick smudging against it as your gaze remains locked on his. Your hands make work of the belt that’s kept your trench coat closed, tugging at it until it’s undone. 

The air is charged in pure lustful electricity as the fabric falls from your shoulders and pools around your feet.

“Congratulations on your arrest, agente.”

The grip on his whiskey glass tightens, golden eyes turning an onyx color as he drinks in your scandalous appearance like a man who’s been denied the basic necessity of water his entire life.

“You’re killing me here, bebita.”

You giggle, scrunching your nose beneath the mask and the sound of your flirty laugh has his lips pulling up into a small smile. 

“Come closer. Let me get a better look at you.”

You comply obediently, placing one foot in front of the other before he abruptly stops you.

“Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez.”

Oh shit, your legs turn into jello at the command and immediately you fall to your knees, feeling the scratchy carpet through your stockings. 

“Good girl. Me encanta cuando haces caso.” He praises and you moan softly, crawling towards him on your hands and knees, the envelope still between your teeth.

He takes a sip of his drink, still lounging and keeping a cool demeanor, yet not relenting with the heavy stare he’s laying on you.

His eyes make out every curve of your body, how the shimmer from your lotion makes you glimmer like a shooting star. If he could close his eyes and make a wish right now, he’d wish to know who you really are.

You stop once you’re in between his legs and he stares at you for a good long minute before leaning forward, finishing off whatever was left of his whiskey and setting the empty glass aside.

His thumb and index fingers pinch your chin, moving your jaw to tilt upward so he can look down into your lovely eyes. The pair he sees every time he closes his own.

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”

He pulls the envelope from your mouth, your saliva leaving it damp but he doesn’t give a damn.

He opens it up, eyebrows quirking at the sight of the polaroid photos as he carefully analyzes each and every single one.

You’re hanging on to every reaction he gives, the way his eyes map every inch of your figure and how you photographed yourself for him.

It’s there, in the pictures, that he sees it. The ring. His brows pull together in confusion, his gaze flickering down to your hands that are resting on your thighs.

“Let me see your left hand, baby.”

The statement has a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re certain he can see your heartbeat pounding against your chest.

Tentatively you bring your hand up, resting it on his knee. 

He sets the photos on his desk then delicately removes the glove, calloused fingers taking your hand in his as he eyes the beautiful ring.

“This wasn’t here last time… ¿te comprometiste, gatita? Been giving that dirty mouth and pussy to someone else, hmm?” He places a kiss on the diamond, his dark eyes now boring into you.

Your thighs clench together at the intensity of the moment and you shake your head earnestly, wanting to dispel those thoughts from his mind entirely.

There is no one else. Just you.

“No. It’s all for you Javi. I just—” Your words get jumbled up, lost on your tongue as the sexy facade slips for a moment while you try and find the right words to explain your possessive, matrimonial fantasy to him.

“All for me, huh?” He’s getting a kick out of your nervous state, dropping your hand and motioning for you to give him the other as he takes the glove off of it too.

“All for you. I’m yours.” You say in a shaky breath, “This ring… it’s my way of pretending that it’s all real… that you’re mine too.” That you want me the same way I want you.

Silence cloaks the both of you, his face set in an unreadable expression.

“You don’t have to pretend, gatita. It can be real. Just let me see you.” He goes to unmask you again but you turn your head to the side to keep him from doing so.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t be fun anymore.” Translation: I’m fucking scared that you’re not going to want the real me.

“So? We could have so much more fun without all this.” His pointer finger traces the lacey cat ears, “Not that I mind this. It’s sexy as hell.”

You look at him again, seeing the sincerity in his stare but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

“No,” you repeat, a little harsher, “And if you try to take it off again I will disappear and you will never see me again.” 

You rise from the floor, trying to regain some of the control that’s slipped from your grasp. His jaw sets, hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling your body to him until his curved nose runs along your belly.

You gasp softly.

“Tan mala mi gatita bella. Luckily for you I like to work for it.”

He begins to place open mouthed kisses all over your midriff, biting the garter belt and pulling on it so it snaps back onto your skin with a delicious sting.

Your head falls onto your shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his lips. You bring your fingers down to run through his hair, enjoying how silken it is.

His strong hands move from your waist around to your ass, digging his nails into the supple skin while he kneads it, groaning at how soft you are. 

“Didn’t get to touch on this pretty body last time. M’not gonna make that mistake again. Bend over the desk, muñequita. Ahora.” He slaps your ass harshly and you squeal, feeling a fresh wave of wetness soaking your folds.

He relinquishes his hold on you, rolling his chair back to give you room to situate yourself in the position he wants to see you in.

You bend at the waist, your heels making the posture look extra sensual as your breasts press against the wooden surface. 

You hold your breath, anticipating what he does next. 

He gets up from the chair, his touch light as a feather as he traces from the top of your spine down to where the arch in your back is. His hands then go to grip your wrists, moving them so they’re pinned at your lower back.

“Gonna have to keep those pretty pictures on me at all times, gatita. Can’t risk someone else seeing what’s mine. I’d have to kill them.”

His possessiveness further turns you on, and now you want for those pictures to fall in the wrong hands. Just to see how he’d react.

He leans over you, placing kisses on the back of your shoulders, moving your hair to the side to expose more of your flushed skin to him. You turn your head, resting your cheek against the desk as you briefly make eye contact with him.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You reply and he smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

His lips trail down the same path he just traced, working his way down until he’s kneeled behind you, his breath fanning over your sopping pussy.

Your hips twitch instinctively, the pressure between your legs becoming unbearable. You need to feel him on you, whether it’s that sinful mouth of his or those deliciously thick fingers. Something, anything.

As if reading your mind, he brings his hand up to grope your backside enticingly, running his fingers beneath the band of your stockings, your skin feeling like melting butter beneath his touch.

“Been thinking about this since you left me last time. I should have kept you from leaving, should have buried myself in between your pretty legs instead.”

You lick your lips, “Then stop talking and do it.”

He wastes no time in landing a harsh slap against your ass, the skin rippling beneath the touch and you yelp out in both surprise and excitement.

“Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena.”

Another harsh slap, then another, then another. With each sting you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm which is a bit pathetic since he hasn’t even touched you like that and you’re already a buzzing, dripping fucking mess.

Each mewl that falls from your lips urges him to continue until he’s satisfied with the flush on each of your cheeks.

His fingers then move to fist the flimsy material of your panties, harshly tugging it until the thin fabric disappears in between your folds and the slight burn from it digging into your sensitive flesh does wonders for the throbbing at your core.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, bebita, just like I knew it’d be. Look at her, all wet for me. You like getting spanked, don’t you?”

You moan loudly, completely at a loss for words as you nod your head, cheek still pressed to the desk.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Had so much to say last time.” His palm connects with your ass again, coaxing a verbal reply from you.

“Yes Javi, fuck I love being spanked. Love feeling your hands all over me.”

He hums in content, slowly pulling down the ruined underwear off your legs until you’re fully exposed to him. “Since you won’t let me see your gorgeous face, I want you to show off this sweet cunt of yours. Spread her open for me, gatita.”

Exhaling shakily, you move your hands from your lower back until you've got a good grip on your own body, spreading your pussy open so he can see all of you.

For a split second you feel self conscious, not being able to see his reaction as you lay open and vulnerable to him.

That dissipates quickly, however, when you hear his satisfied keen then feel his nose skimming against the plush skin of the back of your thighs, kissing your wrist.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” He repeats your own words back to you, his voice low and deep and fuck are you in love with this man.

His hot, wet tongue licks the length of your slit and you can’t control the noise that you make, sighing his name out. Your skin erupts in chills when he does it again, the coarse hairs of his mustache prickling against your swollen cunt.

“Tan dulce. Dunno how you’re going to pull me off of her.”

And with that, he fully immerses himself in your pussy. He’s desperate, licking every inch of you that he can, savoring the tangy taste of your sex. He sucks onto your folds before hardening his tongue and rapidly flicking the tip against your clit. This has you struggling to keep yourself spread open for him, writhing at his ministrations.

“Oh my fucking god Javier your tongue, holy shit…” You babble, absolutely blissed out as his strong nose nuzzles against your entrance, the tip of it inside of you.

He groans, absolutely pussy drunk, rendering him a scrambled mess as he further buries his face into you, his big strong hands working your thighs, this time actually ripping your stockings.

Making out with your pussy passionately, your arousal drips from his mouth and down his jaw. He pulls back, a stringy glob of your fluids following like a cut open aloe vera plant. His thumb brushes against your clit as he spits onto your cunt, smearing his saliva all over before he slips two fingers inside you.

You clench immediately, crying out his name as his digits stretch you open. “So fucking tight gatita. You gonna squeeze my dick like this?”

Your knees just about give out at the promise of feeling his impressive girth inside of you. You hadn’t planned to actually fuck him tonight, not wanting to spoil the erotic nature of your visits by just giving him your pussy.

But now, as he’s ravishing and fingering you with such vigor and your vision beginning to blur as a sign of your incoming orgasm, you’re back tracking on that decision entirely.

You need him to fuck you. You might just die if he doesn’t.

He curls his fingers at your lack of response, the tips of them brushing up against that spot that makes you jolt, your chest rising from the desk while your thighs tighten.

“Stay put and answer the fucking question,” His free hand moves to roughly push you back down, his mouth joining his fingers on your pussy.

“Fuck yes baby. Gonna squeeze you til I milk every single drop out of that fat fucking cock.” You whimper like you’re in an X rated film, rocking your hips back against him as your stomach tightens. You’re so close.

Content with your answer, he slips in a third finger and harshly sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth, moving his head side to side. That’s enough to have you spill all over him, your body trembling while a mixture of moans and sobs and cries of his name echo out of you like a cock-obsessed woman that needs to be sedated.

Your acrylics dig into the skin of your ass, leaving crescent shaped marks on the flesh.

He continues his relentless assault on your cunt, eating you out through your orgasm. The blood rushing in your ears keeps you from hearing all the filthy things he’s chanting against your skin.

The ring looks so beautiful next to your spent pussy, querida. All mine.

Pulling his fingers from you once you’ve come down from your high, he places a final, more gentle kiss against your clit and you twitch from the oversensitivity.

“Did so good muñeca.” He rises from his kneeled position, the soft sounds of his joints popping having you blink away some of the haziness from your eyes, your body completely limp against his desk.

His hands run along the length of your body before he’s tenderly flipping you over so you’re on your back, the edge of the desk uncomfortably digging into your waist.

Noticing this, he clears some space to make room then lifts you until you’re fully sprawled out on his desk looking absolutely wrecked.

His mustache is damp with your release, lips swollen from him losing himself in the taste of you and drinking all that you have to offer him. Brown eyes remain dark, gaze swimming with longing.

“So handsome…” you mutter dreamily as he hovers over you, his thumb gently caressing the part of your cheek that isn’t covered by the mask.

“I wish you would let me get a good look at you, gatita.” He leans in, kissing your chin then your jaw until he’s trailing down onto the soft skin of your neck.

“Javi…” you sigh out, not only because his lips feel fucking divine but also because you don’t want to have this conversation again.

“I know, I know. You’ll disappear and I’ll never see you again. I got it the first time.”

He cups your breasts in his hands, gently kneading them as he licks down your sternum. He snakes a hand behind you and you arch your back, letting him expertly undo your bra.

The straps are delicately pulled down your shoulder until the garment is completely off, your nipples pebbling as the cool air of his office nips at them.

He wastes no time in wrapping his pouty lips around the sensitive peak and suckling softly. His tongue traces around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple which causes you to whine and bring your fingers to entangle in his hair, pressing your chest deeper onto his face.

Repeating the action on the other, he lavishes your breasts with attention from his skilled muscle. His facial hair is an added stimulant to your pleasure and your clit pulsates, body ready to have him inside of you.

You roll your hips, feeling his erection brush up against your naked pussy and your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s then that you realize that he’s still fully clothed while you’re practically naked. The only things that adorn your body are your ripped stockings and the garter belt along with your heels.

Tugging him away from your tits, you bring his face up to yours, noses brushing against each other. You can smell your sex on his lips, so you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself and moaning.

“I need you to fuck me, agent.” Your lips brush against his as you speak, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you.

His chest rumbles at your request, hands antsy as he caresses and gropes; memorizing all your curves and the feel of your body.

“S’that what my gatita wants? For me to fuck her sweet little pussy?” 

Your answer comes in the form of another passionate kiss with a nod, your tongue intertwining with his then sucking on it softly.  He’s such a good fucking kisser, you could make out with him until your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls back, quickly beginning to unbutton his shirt in which you assist him, your french tipped nails taking over while he makes work of getting his pants undone and off.

Sliding his shirt off his broad shoulders, you pull him back down to you, lips quickly kissing all over the freshly exposed skin, savoring the warmth radiating off him.

You feel his naked cock pressing against your wet slit and your head cants back, a breathless whimper pushing past your lips while he lets out a deep groan.

“You make such pretty noises, muñeca. Wanna hear them all the time.”

He rubs his plush head against the length of your sopping pussy, collecting the wetness of your arousal.

“Gonna let me fuck this pussy raw, gatita? For all I know you’ve been spreading your legs for half the fuckin’ city.”

Your head spins, body overstimulated by his touch and the words that leave him. 

“Need to feel all of you, Javi. I think about it all the time. No one else. Just you.” You whisper out, once more clenching your thighs around his hips and rolling your own to entice him into slipping inside your tight and needy heat.

He curses, his teasing finally getting to him as he slowly sinks his thick, hard cock inside of you.

You both sigh out in pleasure in unison, your fleshy walls contracting around his length and swallowing him in, almost in the same manner in which your throat had all those nights ago. 

Every part of your body is eager to feel him somehow, your obsession and insatiable craving convoluting your being into nothing more than just something to bring him pleasure.

“Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí.”

He still hasn’t bottomed out and you feel so incredibly full. Your wet dreams have nothing against the real thing. 

“Javiiii, I need you to move. To fuck me hard and fast.” While you know having him rock into you slowly and sensually would feel better than winning the fucking lottery, you need to drop your own self respect and have him take you like the whores he’s so fond of.

He bares his teeth, straightening his posture so he’s no longer hovering over you. He readjusts your legs to sit higher on his waist.

“Was goin’ slow to give you the chance to get used to me baby pero la gatita quiere mas and I can’t help but spoil you, hermosa.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into yours and you gasp loudly, the burn of him stretching you out adds vicious heat to your already hot cunt.

“Oh just like that Javi please…” you sob as he begins to fuck you just as you asked. Hard and fast. 

“Pobrecita. Can’t even take what she’s asking for.” He fucking pouts, mocking you and you’re certain that you’ve died and gone straight to horny heaven.

The desk moves with every thrust; pens, papers and other items hitting the floor. 

He roughly takes ahold of your bouncing tits, using them as leverage to keep splitting you open on his cock, your arousal leaving a creamy ring against his flesh and the sight has him going feral.

“Fuck this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, querida. So tight and fucking perfect. Bet you’ve never been fucked like this before, huh? S’probably why you came to me. Knew I would take good care of you.”

Your hands grip the edge of the desk, knuckles flushed, to keep you from falling off. The scratchy hairs on the base of his cock brush against your sensitive clit, having you shut your eyes out of pure ecstasy.

You never want this to end.

“Abre esos ojos gatita, you’re already denying me so much by not letting me see your lovely face. At least let me look into those beautiful eyes while I fuck you.” One of his hands leaves your breast, lightly slapping you to get your attention back on him.

As if it ever wavered.

Your eyes blink open, the slight sting across your cheek only bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“D-Do that again.” You plead with a small smirk, squeezing your walls around him and he grunts, slapping your face again.

You moan and he matches your smirk, basking in your reaction.

“Ay nena, eres mi dream girl. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

His praise paired with the harsh snap of his hips driving his cock deeper is enough to have stars blinding your eyesight as your pussy tightens and your orgasm begins to shoot up your spine.

“Aqui, Javi. I’m right here baby.” Your words slur, absolutely cock drunk.

His torso looks perfectly fucking sculpted, like a god walking amongst men. Different muscles tense and jolt at his movements; you want to bite into his triceps and lick all over his prominent collarbone.

He shifts again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders and the change in angle has you moaning out like a seasoned pornstar. He places gentle kisses against the inside of your knee, trailing his tongue against the nylon of your stockings before doing the same on the other leg.

This has your pussy feeling tighter and you watch as his own orgasm begins to overtake him.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

Your left hand trails down the length of your torso until it’s at your pulsating clit, the tips of your fingers beginning to rub small circles against the pearl.

His dark eyes fall onto your movements, his tongue running along his teeth slowly.

“Tan hermosa, nena. Look at how that ring looks against your pussy. Do you touch yourself pretending it’s me, tu esposo, gatita?”

You nod, no longer feeling shy about your perverse delusion of belonging to him in a matrimonial sense. “Si, all the time. Think about you coming home to our house and fucking me on our bed. Ay, Javi I’m about to cum.”

His balls clench, jaw ticking as he too begins to slip into this fantasy of yours. “I’d take such good care of you baby. Make sure all of your needs are, fucking christ,” his thrusts stutter, “met. I’d do anything for you.”

And just like that, your orgasm topples over and your back archs off the desk at the intensity of it. Your vision spots, ears ringing as you douse his cock with your cum.

He fucks you through it, muffled words of praise not reaching you since you’re trying to focus on not passing out from pure bliss.

His cock twitches inside of you, feeling you come undone pulling euphoria out of him too.

“Where do you want it, gatita. You better tell me before I cum in this pussy and make you a mamita.”

Oh fuck, while the offer sounds enticing as hell, you know you need to think with a somewhat clear head so you just say, “Cum all over my clit, please.”

You don’t need to tell him twice, he pulls out just enough for the hot ribbons of his spend to messily land on your exposed clit, some of it getting on your knuckles and ring as you lazily rub it in.

He’s cursing up a storm, a tight grip on your thigh as he empties his balls all over your flesh. 

You both are left panting, his cum dripping down your fingers and pussy onto his desk. Blinking slowly, you meet his gaze and bring your digits up to your mouth, sucking them in and humming in content at the taste of your mixed release.

“Sucia,” he spits out before falling to his knees again, giving you no time to fucking react as he buries his face in your freshly used cunt.

“Javier!” You shout, literally shout, as he eats your cum and his out of your sweet pussy. Your fingers shoot down to tangle in his mussed hair, yanking on it without caring if it pains him or not. 

You don’t even realize it but you’re actually crying. The tears falling from the corners of your eyes beneath the mask and onto your cheek.

You’ve never felt this good. Never had a man, or anyone else for that manner, make you feel as sexy and wanted as the agent that’s currently in between your legs. 

When he finally stands, you’re left an incoherent mess and all he does is smirk.

“We taste good, muñeca.”

You whimper, not knowing how the fuck you’re going to recover from this and if you’ll even make it down the flight of stairs that awaits you for your departure.

Javier’s after care consists of placing soft kisses all over you, whispering sweet words to help bring you back to him. He caresses you again, this time being mindful of your over sensitivity.

He kisses along your thighs and tummy then moves up to each breast. His fingers graze along your skin and when he’s finally at your mouth, your lips meet in a kiss that surpasses any of the other ones you’ve shared with him.

Your mask makes it a little awkward at first but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the feeling of the other. It’s sensual and slow, all the unspoken things felt between the two of you being relayed during this interlock.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against the lace and plastic of your kitten mask. Your red lipstick is smeared all over his handsome face.

The lust in his brown eyes has now been replaced with something else that you can’t quite put your finger on, and that’s enough to snap you out of your trance and you gently push at his chest.

“I have to go.”

He scoffs, not moving from over you, “You don’t.”

“I do, Javi.” You say, a little more forcefully, which gets him to pull away.

Your panties and bra are on the other side of the room and you slide from the desk to retrieve them, wobbling as you go.

You’re going to be feeling him for days.

“How many more times are we going to do this? What’s the endgame here?”

You pull your underwear up your legs, cringing at how uncomfortable the damp material feels against your swollen core.

“There is no endgame. We’re just messing around.”

With your bra back on, you move to retrieve your trench coat which means you have to face him now.

He’s leaning against his desk like he had been when you first arrived, pants undone but up on his hips again.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to sneak in whenever you need a good fuck?”

You laugh dryly, crossing the room to get your coat but he grabs you by the forearm once you pass him; halting you in your spot.

“Javier,” You warn.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You stare at him, wanting nothing more than to rip the mask off and confess to him how much he means to you despite this being anything but a conventional relationship.

As delusional as you’ve tended to be as of late, you know he’s way out of your league. He doesn’t go after girls like you.

Girls that are easy to dismiss and forget in the pouring rain.

“Same rules as last time: you’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

He tightens his grip on your arm and you narrow your eyes.

“Are we clear?”

He’s silent but finally lets go and you don’t hesitate to grab and put on your coat.

You’re so eager to leave that you don’t notice your press lanyard has slipped out of your pocket as you’re making your way to the door.

He stands from his seated position and you brace yourself for yet another attempt at him trying to change your mind.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, you hear the flick of a lighter and that’s enough to get you to turn the doorknob and leave without another word. 

Javier smokes the entire cigarette to calm his racing heart before he lazily begins to clean up the mess you two made in his office.

He’s lost in his thoughts, all consisting of you, until he spots the lanyard in the corner.

Picking it up, he looks at it quizzically before flipping it over. His jaw tightens once he sees your face, the familiarity of your lips and eyes luring him in.

He’s got a clear view now and it strikes him entirely, heart fluttering as he takes in your appearance. 

He reads your name, as if tasting it on his tongue, and the outlet you work for out loud. He recognizes you from somewhere but he just can’t remember where.

This is going to pick at him like an unhealed scab. But at least Javier knows who you are now.

Of course she’s a reporter. Things are starting to make more sense.

Translations:

Identificación, por favor - Identification please

Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana - I'm sorry ma’am. Come back tomorrow

El jefe de la DEA - The head of the DEA

Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche - Thank you very much sir, have a good night

Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez - Crawl like you did last time

bebita - baby girl

agente - agent

muñeca - doll

Me encanta cuando haces caso.

¿te comprometiste, gatita? - Are you engaged, kitten?

Tan mala mi gatita bella. - My beautiful kitten is so bad

Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena. - You are such a naughty kitten. I'm going to have to tame you baby.

Tan dulce. - So sweet

Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí. - Goddamn baby you feel so good. This little body is made for me.

pero la gatita quiere mas - but the kitten wants more

Abre esos ojos gatita - open those eyes

esposo - husband

sucia - dirty

[faint-kitten]

Starfield is potentially going to be one of my favorite games of this year, despite the fact I can't stand 70% of it, and I won't want to replay it when I'm finished. For a sort of...time stamp as to where I was when I played this: I've just finished the Nishan mission, and I've recently attended the memorial service.

This game SEEMS to be setting up themes only a game like this can, with the concept of a Multiverse. We're up to our asses in multiverse content right now it's just kind of been the big thing in the last few years.

But few games (maybe Bioshock infinite?) actually address the Player as a force,or factor in the plot. In an almost Kojima esque way, when they talk about the unity, when they talk about us changing, and the starborn and what comes next: They're talking about the Player. They're talking about the player as they exist as their character. They're talking about new game plus as a mechanic and how it will impact them and you and your behavior and your character and choices: they are talking about how we play games on a second or third or even fourth go around.

Companions are voicing concerns you won't be the same, that they won't recognize you, would you even fall in love with them again? Are you still going to be "you", or are you going to be obsessed with collecting artifacts? Will you become inhuman, and callous and greedy?

On a second playthrough, and a third, we (the player) become more familiar with the world and less connected and empathetic with it, or it's characters, even if it's just a little bit. Nothing will ever match the first time we play a game.

We tend to romance different, make different decisions just to see what happens. Our character, you could say, becomes "Different". Sometimes we're good, sometimes we decide to play as an absolute bastard. They are worried that entering the unity might "change" us and who we are and how we behave, and how we treat them.

On newgame plus we might become more concerned with collecting all the powers and artifiacts. There are lines in the dialogue that say "I have to do this."

On first playthrough this doesn't mean that much, but on a second, or third, or fourth trip around: "i have to do this" and "this is happening are you on my side or not" hits different. We'll have heard all their worries before but they don't understand: we HAVE to collect them and step into the unity.

Because that's the fucking plot of the game. If we're playing again, we're going to have to if we want to finish the game again.

Repeated playthroughs of Fallout 4, or Skyrim, or Starfield, or Mass Effect, or Dragon Age we tend to become numb as we become less invested in the world and story and the characters, we are pushing through a world we already know and make choices not on feelings but on what gets us the outcomes we want.

Becoming "Starborn" makes us inherently less human. As shown by the Emmissary and the Hunter.

Stepping into the Unity initiates Newgame+ will fundementally alter how the player percieves and plays in Starfield's universe. The fact companions are discussing this and hinting at this cannot be coincidence.

The question is: Did they take time to make characters different, do you get different options for round 2 as a Starborn, are you aware of the multiverse and able to talk about it with the Hunter or the Emissary?

If they land this plot, it will be my favorite game of this year, and if Bethesda fumbles these themes. I won't say I'll be surprised, but it will be a disappointment.

[monstermaster13]

TftW: Don't Look Down. Demona (Gargoyles) TF/TG. ~~~~~~ Contrary to what you may have seen…abandoned places like for example abandoned theme parks and ghost towns actually do exist and sometimes they can invoke fears of both sadness and dread, it's like something you would see in a zombie apocalypse scenario or any horror movie for that matter. One such place was the local mall of Camberly, UK which used to be Clive's favourite place to shop but now it pretty much became the mall equivalent of Silent Hill since it looked like it had been infested with monsters. Clive was a Youtuber who did a series of shopping memories videos, and one evening he decided to face his long time fear of escalators by heading over to the mall over in Camberly and taking photos for research on one of his latest videos.

All seemed perfectly fine for him when he got there, but he found a most alarming sight when he saw many of the shops except for the game shops, Toys R'Us and Spencer's - were closed or without a single line. The cafes were still open though and he decided to try and see if there were any workers still in them, there didn't seem to be any and immediately he felt the ever looming sensation of dread and despair enter his mind and his body, he looked over at an escalator that was still working and he nervously stepped up on it, he had a fear of heights and also of escalators mainly because he had nightmares of falling to his death off of one - he had been having those nightmares for a rather long while now.

"Alright, here we go…it's time to face my fear."

"Are you alright Clive? You seem nervous."

"I have a fear of escalators and i'm going to conquer it."

"This doesn't seem safe to me."

"It's abandoned, that's why it doesn't look safe."

He sighed as he walked on the escalator going up each and every stair in a slow and delicate manner, trying not to let his fear get to him as he carefully held on to the rails and within a few seconds later he got up them with no problems whatsoever. However it was on the one that was going down was the problem, as he started to step on this specific escalator he noticed one of the rails was broken and someone forgot to fix it, but he bravely made his way down, one step at a time…he was almost half-way down and was doing a great job conquering his fear, until it got near the bottom and he started to panic…as it reached the very last stair he slowly began to slip before carefully holding onto the rail and trying again.

Shuddering a little bit in fright as he tried to hold on, but luckily he was saved from the possibly for falling when a spirit slowly materialized and entered his body, the spirit in general began to influence him…making him want to conquer his fear once and for all and charging him with supernatural energy which began to alter his DNA, and also his appearance. Starting with his skin which lost the rugged imperfections it had normally and smoothened before turning a pale blue colour, his body also slowly started to become more athletic as his chest and torso slimmed as well as his stomach, in addition to this on the former a pair of round formations known as breasts developed. His arms slimmed down as his hands shrank in size before shifting to become more monster-like with his fingernails sharpening to become akin to claws, his red tank top slowly become a slightly ripped white top. A pair of large impressive wings slowly sprouted out of his back as his back arched. His feet slowly shifted in size to match his hands as did his legs, his legs in general lengthening as his hips flared out.

His privates retracted while a long tail slowly emerged from his rear, his jeans slowly turning into a white loin-cloth of sorts with a black belt at the top. A gold bracelet materialized around his arm while his body developed a bit of musculature. His shoulders shrank inward as his neckline slowly altered, lengthening and becoming longer as he opened up his magnificent new wings and decided to give them a try…surprisingly he found that he could fly without any practice at all as he flew around for a bit. His hair slowly turning from brown to a fiery red colour while his brow developed a ridge and became more monster-like, a gold ringlet of sorts materializing just above one of his feet on his legs as a gold crown/tiara materialized on them. His eyes turning an exotic greenish colour as his ears stretched out and became pointed, gold earrings appearing on them as his eyebrows thinned and his nose shrank a bit in size. His cheekbones sharpened as did his teeth, his canines extending to become akin to fangs as his lips filled out to become quite luscious as his appearance softened and contorted, becoming rather fierce but yet also attractive…he recognized the character he bore a striking resemblance to, he looked rather a lot like Demona right down to having the same jewellery. His voice altered in pitch and tone as it lost the masculine aspect and became feminine and womanly but also fierce and powerful, becoming the voice that went with his appearance.

Speaking with his new voice he could tell that it was Demona's voice as his personality and mind changed, making him think that not only was he a female but also that she was a gargoyle, not just any gargoyle though but Demona herself. A few seconds later the transformation finalized and Demona stretched her new wings and roared proudly, she stood on the very last step of the descending escalator, triumphantly smiling as she did so. The fear of falling and the fear of heights were both now completely gone and had been conquered, she felt proud of what she had done.

"Clive…are you alright? That was quite a shock you had back there."

"Oh, I think you'll find that i'm more than alright."

"Woah…uh…you look a lot like that gargoyle-girl from Gargoyles."

"Demona?"

"Well yes, that's her. That's Demona of the Wyvern clan. I love that woman and I have such a huge crush on her even though she is evil, I feel that she can be redeemable in a lot of ways and she can be good when she wants to be. She's so beautiful too. And so fierce and strong. Definitely my kind of woman."

"You think i'm lovely?"

The new Demona had never met a human who had such a soft and warm heart before, but it warmed her heart to know that not all humans were bad. She decided to change her opinion on the human race as a whole after she stepped off the escalator and picked up the camera from earlier, packing it up in a satchel before she decided to take another look around. Maybe there were creatures like her around, she looked over at him before heading towards the shops. Maybe she could look around to see if there any fellow monsters out there or fellow gargoyles.

"Well yes I do."

"Do you think there might be others in here?"

"I certainly think so…anything and everything is possible."

"Looks like I might have to investigate."

And thus with that the new Demona searched all over the mall, encountering many different creatures and eventually meeting up with a bunch of gargoyles who resembled Goliath and his clan mates. A few hours later she decided to do a bit of a small shopping spree, picking out things that she needed including food and games before she required one last thing…a book on abandoned places from WHSmith, with her newly required items she decided to hire a crew to have them delivered over to the apartment that she lived in. And once they were delivered, she smiled as she opened her wings and took off.

As for what happened later, she took through the city and into the night before heading back home to relax and set all her newly acquired things up, including adding the new book to her shelf and setting up her gargoyle statues which she placed on the desk near her computer, she then relaxed for the rest of the evening and all through the night. The next morning she awoke in her human form of 'Dominque' and she discovered she could turn into this form at will and so she used it to do more reports on abandoned places. She was later visited by Puck, who had taken on the form of a delivery guy.

Remember my friends…it is never too late to go back to places from your past and to conquer your fears. It's therapeutic and it teaches you a valuable lesson in how to face your own worst nightmares. Lessons that we could all indeed learn from and can easily relate to. Plus, it helps when you are able to fly.

[flowwmotionn]

I already spoke on it elsewhere but I was watching the Toy Box scenes in KH3 where they go to the video game store and it made me cook up a theory to contextualize That One Scene™ in Remind where Yozora and Sora meet and I've prepared to go full nerd about it here too to preserve it just in case

So, because they showed the Verum Rex commercial at the beginning of the level I always sort of assumed that we were SUPPOSED to assume SDG were intended to be based off the characters in Verum Rex, and because Rex ALSO makes the assumption it's pretty easy to let it go. It honestly still might be the case, sometimes the simplest road is the right road, BUT Donald's line here got me thinking

He also says it's simple, that's just not Sora. So maybe the answer is that Donald's magic didn't turn them into video game characters after all and there was no coincidence or fluke. So my guess now is that since the Toy Box universe IS a fake, there's maybe a possibility that the characters in Verum Rex's appearances have been altered by Donald's world magic also since Magia and Aegis also match Donald and Goofy as well.

THIS BRINGS ME TO REMIND

SO this exchange has been interpreted a million different ways

but going off of everything above, basing this exchange off the theory that Yozora is possibly aware of the existence of a "Sora" because he knows he has a connection to him because he knows possibly his appearance and maybe more is tied to him, my new guess to the meaning of this exchange is that when Sora revealed his name, Yozora was shocked that Sora didn't look more like himself.

We know Yozora's appearance isn't his own, but if Sora is affecting his appearance or other things about him, it stands to reason that Yozora would also believe Sora's face would also look like his....you know....like Riku's face. Now I'm not sure if Yozora is aware of Riku's existence at all, but the more I examine this exchange it really does seem like Yozora was shocked by the fact that Sora looked the way that he did. When you add it on to Riku's dream, and how Yozora stares at him from a distance, I feel like they fit together a bit.

It might also begin to put some possible context behind why Yozora might attack Sora. Either way, if ANY of this gets put in KH4 I am more than excited to see how Yozora and Riku interact because it's going to be the wildest.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

If you would like prompt ideas for "moving forward" (For whenever you're in the mood to write for them again, doesn't have to be anytime soon.) - Alec finally meets Libby, and possibly also Bill's kids, for the first time. It's... weird. - Alec sat through Bill's football game, now it's his turn to show Bill what he likes to do. - Nerves are at peak the night before the wedding.

I'm still not sure if I'm ready to write for Libby yet, and I... have no idea what Hardy likes to do, haha. He's so weirdly closed off, the nerd.

But I can write that last one! :D

By the way, I've completely given up on figuring out what the timeline is for this au, I... don't remember all the points in time for these two, haha. Gonna have to go back and read through things to fix stuff up because now I want their wedding to be a year and a half after they met.

On with the fic!

--

Tomorrow was the big day. Hardy never expected he'd have to do this again, especially when he was younger and more optimistic. God, that man was long gone now, wasn't he?

Still, he wasn't upset, just nervous. This was... big. Hardy had gone and fallen in love with a man with a hell of a reputation, and yet that love was returned. What made it crazy was that it all happened so fast, it had taken years for him and Tess to get to this point, but now?

Nearly two years? Yes? About eighteen months, fuck, is that fast?

"Do you really have to go to Ellie's so early?" Bill spoke as he stepped into the bedroom, stopping as he looked at his fiance. "You off in the clouds?"

Hardy blinked, looking at his hands, where he seemed to have been folding his shirt enough times for it to be rather wrinkled. God, how long had he been spacing out, thinking about tomorrow? He was supposed to be getting his suit ready to go for tomorrow, but it seemed to have been lost in his thoughts.

"Just thinking about tomorrow, Bill." He replied, shaking out the shirt, then folded it again, properly, and set it aside with the pants and the tie.

A new suit for a new wedding, even though the wedding wasn't meant to be anything huge and fancy. Really, the most they're spending on this was their suits, as they were having this at Ellie's home, she insisted on it, and those invited had helped to take care of things.

"And yes, I know it's stupid, but... you know, tradition, to not see your husband until you walk down the aisle and all that."

Bill chuckled, walking over. "That's for the brides, Alec." He wrapped his arms around Hardy, who didn't complain. He was becoming more used to touches, Bill was trying out being affectionate with him. Both seemed to be adjusting to it all.

"I don't care, I think it's better that way. Plus, Miller said she's going to try to do something about my face, whatever that means." He figured it meant trying to make him look less dead-on-his-feet. "Daisy's doing you up, yes?"

"She said she's got a plan for me." Bill nodded, resting his chin on Hardy's shoulder. "I... didn't think I'd ever be married again."

"Me neither."

"It's surreal."

"It's crazy."

"I don't mind."

"Neither do I." Hardy turned in his arms. "We're not... going too fast, right?"

Bill looked at him, shaking his head. "I think this matches our pace. We were never exactly slow about any of the things we've done since we met."

"We never make things easy for ourselves." Hardy nodded, and Bill grinned, kissing him on the lips, then on his cheek.

"I can't wait for tomorrow, even though I'm probably going to be up all night." He sighed against Hardy's face, kissing him again.

"You're preaching to the choir, Masters. Don't be up all night, don't want you sleeping at the alter, Miller will happily wake you up in the most obnoxious way."

Bill laughed a bit, nodded. "Oh, I know she will. We should get ready for bed, I've got my suit ready to go, and looks like you've finished up."

Hardy nodded, slipping out of Bill's arms to set his small bag of clothes aside on his side of the bed. He moved to get under the blankets, already prepared for bed, and Bill joined him a moment later after shutting off the lights.

He got under the covers, wrapping his arms around Hardy in the dark. He was close, his nose pressed against the detective's neck. "Tomorrow will be a good day, I'm sure of it." He whispered.

"I'll hold you to it, Bill." Hardy whispered back, finding his hand, giving it a good squeeze.

He knew Bill would be right, but there were always nerves before big events like this. At least this one would be for a happy reason.

[vvitchering]

I love, LOVE, your writing! Would you be up for some hurt/comfort Gesekel? I'm a sucker for it, especially along the lines of Geralt thinking Eskel has died on the path but then he shows up with his grin and the whole "you should know better Wolf". 💜

I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing ;w; I write for you guys so getting feedback like this literally fuels me. I am also a sucker for hurt/comfort so you are absolutely in luck~

--

It’s never a pretty sight when he makes his way through settlements ravaged by the war. As Nilfgaard pushes ever northward, the people suffer. Geralt is used to carnage wrought by mindless creatures, but seeing the violence done by men to men makes his stomach turn. The bright side, if it can be called a bright side, is that with war comes death, and with death come monsters. War can be profitable for witchers, if there is coin left to be paid. 

He’s just north of White Orchard, in one such town left ransacked and bloody by a skirmish. The notice board had been covered in desperate pleas for assistance with the encroaching necrophages, drawn in by the stench of blood and bodies. Ghouls and Algouls looking to make meals of the dead would quickly move on to living prey once the bodies were devoured. A witcher was needed. Geralt holds one of the contract offers in his hand as he talks to the barkeep at the town’s tavern, one of the only buildings left intact. 

“Ghouls were a big problem, yeah, but you’re a bit late. Another witcher beat you to them, though that might be to your benefit.”

Geralt frowns. He doesn’t often encounter other witchers. They tend to stick to their own territories. 

“And how is that to my benefit exactly.” Geralt asks, already mentally counting his losses. If this town was already clean, he had a week at least to go before he again encountered a settlement big enough to find work in. 

The barkeep gives him a slightly sympathetic look.

“He drove out the flesh eaters, but they still got ‘im in the end. Poisonous bite, you know? Got ‘im right in the neck and it wasn’t long before he stopped moving. Real shame. Wasn’t a bad guy for a witcher, had a bit of good humor about 'im, even with that scarred face of his.”

Geralt’s heart speeds up despite himself. There are plenty of witchers with facial scars. It’s not him. 

He asks the barkeep to describe the good humored witcher. 

Brown hair, strong jaw, wide nose, and terrible scars that disfigured the side of his face and twisted his mouth. 

Geralt’s blood chills in his veins. It’s not possible. No way he’d let something as mundane as a ghoul take him out. 

“Friend of yours?” the barkeep asks.

Geralt is reeling, still trying to process the information, still finding loopholes, when the man reaches underneath the bar and produces a long thin object, wrapped in a white sheet. 

“Was gonna try to sell it, but if he was your kin it’s rightfully yours.”

Any doubt Geralt was trying to hold onto vanishes as he pushes aside the sheet. It’s a witcher’s silver sword, adorned with runes as familiar as the ones on his own sword, and altered at the grip to be easier for larger hands to wrap around comfortably. It’s Eskel’s, unquestionably. And no witcher would let his silver out of his sight unless...

“Where.” Geralt bites out. “Where is he.”

“The body? Dragged ‘im to the old oak by the hill. Couldn’t spare the labor to bury ‘im, you understand, but it seemed the least we could do for his help.”

Geralt snatches Eskel’s sword from the bar and leaves as quickly as his feet can carry him. He leaves Roach tethered outside and takes off at a run toward the hill he can see by the edge of the town. It’s a mistake. It has to be. It can’t be, the evidence is in his hands, but it must be. 

There’s a figure resting at the base of a huge oak that looms into view the closer he gets to the hill. It’s not him. It can’t be him.

Geralt skids to a stop. Falls to his knees in the dirt, the sword slipping from his hands to rest in front of him. 

Eskel is splattered with dried but foul smelling blood and his armor is ripped and tattered. The townspeople must have arranged him in the dignified position he laid in; back straight, eyes closed, his steel sword resting on his chest. They’ve laid him to rest like they would a respected warrior, albeit one who they couldn’t spare the resources to bury or burn.

There’s a high pitched agonized whine coming from somewhere. It takes Geralt a moment to realize it’s coming from his own throat. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this day would come. No witcher ever died in his bed. But for it to be Eskel, already... They were both still young, by witcher standards, barely men, not even at their first hundred years. And Eskel was gone. 

Distantly, Geralt registers that he’s crying. He feels lightheaded, like his soul is trying to escape and go somewhere else, like it can’t stand to exist in a reality where Eskel does not. Geralt shuffles forward on his knees until Eskel is close enough to touch. He bends over the fallen witcher and presses his face to his neck, searching for his scent, one last memory to hold onto. 

Eskel’s lightning storm essence is there still, underneath the putrid stink of necrophage blood. Geralt breaths it in, greedy, desperate, tears dripping from his face to Eskel’s neck and leaving tracks in the filth there. 

And then he hears it. A weak fluttering thud. A heartbeat. Geralt freezes, doesn’t even dare to breath, lest he destroy himself all over again with false hope. 

A moment passes. Then another. 

The dull thud sounds again. 

He’s alive. 

The relief is sudden and all consuming. Geralt collapses, curls around Eskel as best he can with all of their armor between them, and lets his sobs shake him apart. Eskel’s heart is slow, slower than even a witcher’s should be, and his chest doesn’t move at all for how shallow his breaths are, but he’s alive. 

He’s alive.

Geralt tries to match his breaths to Eskel’s and finds himself slipping into meditation. Eskel is clearly on a deeper level than Geralt has ever experienced, if being handled and transported by humans and having his sword taken from him didn’t draw him out of the trance. Geralt drifts, exhausted by both his grief and his joy, and only stirs when he feels the pillow he’s made of Eskel’s chest shift under him. 

Eskel groans and it’s the most beautiful sound Geralt has ever heard in his life. He sits up in a hurry and snakes a hand under Eskel’s neck to help the larger witcher sit up. His eyes are open and his pupils shrink and grow rapidly as he blinks and reorients himself. His gaze lands on Geralt and he smiles.

“Could’ve used you here a few days ago.”

His voice is rough and dry, but the deep tones are instantly comforting.

“You so far off your game you let a few ghouls turn you into a chew toy?” Geralt teases.

Eskel rolls his eyes and and moves to rotate his shoulder until it pops satisfyingly. He stretches his neck, producing a similar crack, and Geralt catches a glimpse of the half healed bite wound on Eskel’s neck. The barkeep’s story had been true, then. He brings a hand up to smooth down Eskel’s collar and lightly brush over the angry red skin. Eskel hisses and slaps his hand away.

“Gonna scar.” Eskel says gloomily. “I’ll never live it down.”

“You will. You’ll live.”

Geralt means it to sound light and humorous, but the look Eskel gives him says his joke didn’t quite land the way he’d hoped. 

“I’m fine. It was just a ghoul. Got me in a hell of a shitty spot, but it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.”

“I know, its just...They told me you died. You looked dead. I couldn’t hear your heart.”

Eskel reaches up and slides his fingers through Geralt’s hair to cup the back of his head. He pulls lightly, bringing Geralt close enough to knock foreheads with him. It’s an action that they’d done since they were children at Kaer Morhen, their own special way of being close. Geralt can hear Eskel’s heart now, beating away strong and loud in his chest. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I really am fine.” Eskel says quietly, rubbing absently at Geralt’s scalp with the hand buried in the white strands. 

Geralt leans into the pressure for a moment and then pulls away, clearing his throat after the emotional display.

“Don’t fucking do it again.” Geralt says, feigning annoyance. 

Eskel laughs and Geralt once again has a new favorite sound. 

“Yeah, sure, Wolf. I’ll do my best.”

*~*

:’) well that certainly got away from me. I hope this makes up for how long it took me to answer!!