#Well I posted a lot the last few years so

[thewidowsledger]

Toothbrush

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)

Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.

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⧗

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

⧗

“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.

“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”

“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.

“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” She said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.

“You gotta be kidding Tony…”

“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”

Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.

The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.

“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.

With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.

The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.

As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.

“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.

“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.

“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.

Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”

Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”

“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”

Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”

Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.

“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.

“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”

“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”

Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.

“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”

⧗

For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.

Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.

As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.

She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.

She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.

Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.

“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.

“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”

Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.

She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.

Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.

Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.

However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.

You: Hi dear

Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.

She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.

Natasha: Good evening, how are you?

You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?

Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.

You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.

Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.

Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.

She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.

You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥

You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.

Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.

Nat: Thanks :)))

You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?

⧗

“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”

You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.

Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”

And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”

You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.

Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.

“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”

Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.

She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.

After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.

Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.

“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”

“Please…p-please mommy.”

You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.

“That’s not my name baby.”

“Mommy, please!”

You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”

“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”

“So good! So tight!” She cries.

“Oh yeah?”

You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.

Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”

“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.

“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.

“Y-yes…”

Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”

Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”

“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”

Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”

Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.

“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”

You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.

“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”

So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.

“Natty…baby stop…”

“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.

“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”

“Wha—”

Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”

As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.

Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.

“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.

“Yesyesyes!”

Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.

She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.

“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.

“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.

You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.

You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.

Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”

Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.

“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.

“You’re so good for me, mama.”

⧗

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.

You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.

“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”

“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.

Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it

“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”

You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.

You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.

The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.

Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.

“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”

“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.

“22 years old?”

A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.

She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.

You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.

“You're 22?!”

“Wha—”

“Your bio says you're 28!”

“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”

“That's bullshit!”

“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.

“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...

“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.

“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.

“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.

“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.

“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.

“Hm, just fucking.”

“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.

Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.

“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”

“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”

“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.

“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.

“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.

You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.

⧗

You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.

You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.

With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.

There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.

“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.

“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.

“I love you so much, ‘ma!”

Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.

“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.

As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.

“I missed you so much, mom.”

“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.

“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.

“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.

The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.

And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.

“Mom, this is Natasha.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

What Could Have Been

Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.

Pairing: Philip Graves x reader

Word Count: 7, 358 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this

A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.

Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have

What Ifs Masterlist | Directory

“You’ve been chosen.” 

You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates. 

You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide. 

“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file. 

“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years. 

It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago. 

“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon. 

“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork. 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office. 

It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you. 

The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still. 

Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before. 

Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available. 

“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in. 

The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret. 

“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue. 

They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall. 

“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug. 

“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down. 

“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.” 

They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are. 

The rumors are true.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen. 

“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer. 

Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file. 

He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him. 

“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.” 

“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks. 

“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.” 

You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen. 

The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?

You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom. 

Or more like to keep others out. 

There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.” 

You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him. 

“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings. 

“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.” 

“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect. 

Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you. 

Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too? 

Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again. 

It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT. 

“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.” 

He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.” 

Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas. 

You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand. 

You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around. 

Look at me, look at my perfect omega. 

Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control. 

Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega. 

Unless they don’t like you. 

You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.

The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before. 

Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him. 

“Phil?” 

It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him. 

“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.” 

Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand. 

Now you do. 

You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being. 

“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”

Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you. 

His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.

“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks. 

He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap. 

“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”

He's talking about your father. 

“How did you-”

“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”

He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”

Will you? 

You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted. 

He’s been waiting longer than two years. 

“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting. 

You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.” 

He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.” 

He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either. 

You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this? 

You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that. 

You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s. 

“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again. 

You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety. 

You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted. 

That is your job, after all. 

Give him exactly what he wants. 

The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own. 

That’s not the only reason it feels strange. 

“Are you not going to-” 

Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.” 

He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in. 

You had been too focused on the bed. 

“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.” 

You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl. 

“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.” 

He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.” 

You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything. 

Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back. 

You wish the door had a lock on it. 

You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on. 

“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again. 

Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason. 

You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years. 

You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home. 

It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever. 

There won’t be any going back. 

Phil will never change his mind. 

The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct. 

“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?” 

“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class? 

He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.” 

Would he take you to see your family again? 

They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason. 

You don’t know anything about his pack. 

You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad. 

Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas? 

Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out? 

Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised. 

“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?” 

You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.” 

Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent. 

His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders. 

You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far. 

How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home? 

It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured. 

Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again. 

That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives. 

Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know. 

You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him. 

He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go. 

Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above. 

“Yes.” You nod. 

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. 

He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment. 

“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?” 

You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.

“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.” 

He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you. 

No, you know why. 

He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home. 

It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting. 

That’s your job. 

“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. ��We were made for each other.” 

Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait. 

He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.” 

“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him. 

“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.” 

Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest. 

‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’ 

He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet. 

Now the silence is almost loud in your ears. 

It won’t be silent forever. 

You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice. 

“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?” 

Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually. 

Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages. 

“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm. 

“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her. 

Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.” 

There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega. 

You’re not sure you want to take it from her. 

They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added. 

Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?

“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says. 

You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.” 

“That was a while ago.” Jenny says. 

“About ten years.” You say. 

Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything. 

“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?” 

The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have. 

All we really have is each other. 

“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.” 

They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have. 

Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance. 

He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense. 

A lot of things make sense now. 

Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this. 

Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy. 

You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what. 

“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?” 

You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will. 

You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms. 

Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door. 

You don’t doubt he’d break it down eventually. 

Then he’ll be angry. 

You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you? 

The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now. 

You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob. 

The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again. 

The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture. 

“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.” 

You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it. 

You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with. 

It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage. 

How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years? 

Most alphas don’t wait anyway. 

“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.” 

His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. 

“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks. 

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.” 

“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?” 

You shake your head. 

“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. 

You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him. 

He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets. 

Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle. 

“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands. 

He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening. 

It gets easier. 

Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?” 

You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision. 

“Yes, alpha.” 

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[within-ur-intro-verse]

Favorite Complete Canon Setting Joongdok Fics

One-shots

oh, how you've made me a fool by aevum; 1,602 words, Rated: Gen; YJH realizes during an encounter with Asmodeus that KDJ is pretty and has a crisis.

how the mighty fall (in love) by Anonymous; 6,335 words, Rated: Teen; In which YJH confuses sexual tension with anger issues when it comes to KDJ.

Some things are meant to be by Anonymous; 13,432 words, Rated: Teen; Yoo Joonghyuk remembers round zero and assumes his sponsor has taken another incarnation, namely Kim Dokja, behind his back. Yoo Joonghyuk is not bitter about it (he is).

[sub-scenario — hellsent guardian angel] by Anonymous; 6,203 words, Rated: Teen; ABO AU - KDJ’s irregular heat strikes during the apocalypse. Without a companion to help him, KDJ channels it out through indiscriminate carnage.

"I am not a model," Kim Dokja lied. by aynchent; 6,615 words, Rated: Teen; KDJ gets roped into modeling for a beauty competition scenario.

have you no idea that you're in deep by blerghie; 3,111 words, Rated: Teen; YJH unknowingly meets the Goddess of Love & Beauty who has taken the form of KDJ.

A Bleeding Heart Is A Beating Heart by brannrice; 6,241 words, Rated: Mature; KDJ is in every one of YJH's regression rounds, from the 3rd to the last.

a tilt of the axis mundi by lady_peony; 1,245 words, Rated: Teen; YJH takes the Absolute Throne with KDJ as his consort.

'Be my Queen' by Mosspool13; 1,953 words, Rated: Teen; YJH becomes KDJ's Queen during the Absolute Throne arc.

Why do you keep talking about my looks?! by NurikoEsuki; 6,393 words, Rated: Teen; YJH can read KDJ's mind when he thinks about his looks.

because companions kiss a lot by oronine; 4,408 words, Rated: Teen; Uriel matchmakes Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk with a scenario. It works.

self-rationalisation by oronine; 5,843 words, Rated: Teen; YJH meets KDJ in the body of a child and realizes a few things about their past.

Silver Poplars by ritterlich; 6,955 words, Rated: Teen; Post-canon - KDJ returns from being constellation-ed without his memories except his name and YJH finds him three years later.

A Thorny Embrace by Sabby___writ12; 12,741 words, Unrated; A mandatory scenario leads to Yoo Joonghyuk travelling through Kim Dokja's worst memories and seeing who his Life and Death companion truly is.

Kim Dokja Can Sing?! by SkylerSkyhigh; 5,948 words, Rated: Gen; KimCom has accidentally triggered a hidden scenario with a harsh penalty. Can they survive the scenario without losing their voice?

Hands of God by spoonks; 4,524 words, Rated: Gen; KDJ's old apartment survives the apocalypse. KimCom goes and finds a binder of KDJ's drawings.

On the Tip of My Tongue by spoonks; 4,808 words, Rated: Gen; KDJ was born an empath where he can taste emotions. It makes eating difficult.

can wait for you at the bottom by trainerlyra; 10,490 words, Rated: Teen;  KDJ goes off on his own again, and when he comes back, he's noticeably different. YJH isn't sure how to deal with this.

sponsor and incarnation by Umbalt; 4,147 words, Rated: Gen; Post-canon - The epilogue finally begins in earnest, and YJH gets to ask KDJ his final question.

through the looking-glass by unluckyolive; 10,300 words, Rated: Teen; The Fourth Wall comes down. Kim Dokja realizes he’s been relying on it more than he thought.

bet i made you look by venividivici; 3,303 words, Rated: Teen; Where KDJ was a supermodel before the apocalypse.

you got me starstruck by virotutis; 3,680 words, Rated: Teen; Idol KDJ whose songs were about YJH's regression turns.

skills aren’t everything (well they are to me) by wonrkive; 4,117 words, Rated: Teen; What happens when you’re so emotionally repressed? The universe has to step in and play therapist for you.

the volatile truth of white lies by zxrysky; 5,438 words, Rated: Mature; Role Reversal AU - where YJH incarnates in the world of TWSA/ORV as a reader of the ORV novel.

Multi-chapter/Series

Voiceless Emotions Echoing in the Night by Akeara4; Multi-chapter (9,787 words), Rated: Explicit; KDJ & YJH get trapped in the Dark Fault for 300 days. When their relationship starts progressing, they avoid talking about it. It keeps progressing anyway.

and loathed is he who curses the warmth of the sky, whilst he should be so cruelly shackled with ice by Anonymous; Multi-chapter (10,788 words), Rated: Explicit; YJH is able to drag KDJ through regressions with him.

tell-tale heart beats and beats by Anonymous; Multi-chapter (24,777 words), Rated: Teen; a scenario takes KimCom into KDJ's first meeting with one of its members (spoilers: it's YJH).

You make me wanna live forever by Anonymous; Multi-chapter (143,024 words), Rated: Teen; Role Reversal AU - Regressor KDJ and Reader/Fan YJH.

Brilliant Tapestry by A_simple_Cookie, Moreta; Series - Story 1 (Discontinued - 70,180 words; Rated: Mature) & Story 2 (Complete - 6,050 words; Rated: Teen); Joongdok were boyfriends before the apocalypse.

Derealization by Frill; Multi-chapter (121,356 words), Rated: Teen; KDJ is a spy that find himself isekai'd into the TWSA-verse as the scenarios began.

[Message from the Universe: Kim Dokja Must Die] by jarofclay; Multi-chapter (27,291 words), Rated: Explicit; A tragicomedic Final Destination-esque story featuring one dreamer in distress, his personal hero and his rightfully anxious family.

can't keep my hands to myself by LethalBookshelves; Series - Story 1 (Complete, Rated: G - 3,165 words), Story 2 (Complete, Rated: G - 4,261 words), Story 3 (Complete, Rated: T - 5,071 words); YJH can't figure out why KDJ is called ugly.

The cost of life by Mayura_Slay, Moreta, Watching_fromabove; Multi-chapter (Discontinued - 63,770 words), Rated: Teen; KDJ and YSA starts out the apocalypse ate Minosoft. The events take place during the 999th Regression.

Is this normal? by Moreta; Multi-chapter (9,332 words), Rated: Teen; 1863!YJH transports into reality and walks into Minosoft covered in blood.

Now you know by Moreta; Multi-chapter (5,946 words), Rated: Teen; What if YJH actually used the Affection Reader when fate got placed on KDJ?

devil's manner by oronine; Multi-chapter (5,274 words), Rated: Teen; Yandere!KDJ - if Kim Dokja grew up a little different.

Repose by Waltzfor-Zizi (azro_zee); 6,783 words, Rated: Teen; Post-canon - In which KDJ feared the silence, and YJH was reminded that the lull could be a little scary.

Meetings by WindsOfTime; Series, Rated: Teen, Story 1 (39,658 words) and Story 2 (67,592 words); What canon could have been if Midday Tryst had been used more often.

Tangible Things by wyrvel; Series - Story 1 (Complete, Rated: G - 2,967 words), Story 2 (Complete, Rated: E - 3,870 words), Story 3 (Complete, Rated E - 7,710 words); Joonghyuk relationship during the apocalypse.

seldom the ghost returns by yamscooper; Multi-chapter (31,619 words), Rated: Teen; Post-canon - KDJ is hallucinating seeing OD everywhere.

[grimbunnies]

Much About Pink Soup

Okay.

I made an ill-considered response in a moment of deliberation, and I should have just done this from the beginning.

Pink soup is not about the Sims 2's game engine. The Sims 2 can display 4k textures just fine if your hardware supports higher resolutions and you have properly installed the game (more on this in a moment).

I knew this the whole time, but my autism tends to push me into chameleon-ing in conversations. I am now embarrassed I engaged in such a way that I spread misinformation, so I want to set the record straight (or spread different misinformation because I'm not an expert on any of this, but this is how I understand things, please correct me if I'm wrong and add to this).

Before I begin, I want to make clear that, while I'm referencing a specific post, I'm not in any way attempting to smear anyone. I think we've come to realize as a community that we have a tendency to spread misinformation when things don't quite make sense with this game. Think of how certain we all were that we knew what neighborhood corruption was for literally so many years. I still am in the habit of checking the phone isn't ringing before I save a lot. So, my reason for making this post is because I feel there's a danger that misinformation is being spread, and because I played a part in that I feel responsible for pushing back (again, hopefully I'm actually doing better this time). I don't believe that anyone is intentionally trying to misinform the community. I also believe that there is still useful information in the post I'm referencing. Simmers who struggle with pink soup may find some useful tips in that post. However, when you read it, I ask you try to keep in mind that the explanation that post provides is misleading at times.

Does the game struggle on newer machines? Yes. Newer operating systems and hardware can struggle to run the Sims 2 or play nice with the game, so it requires some tweaking to install in such a way that things will work how most of us would prefer. By default, the game does go "Huh?" when confronted with the concept that it can run as more than a potato simulator (by the standards of modern gaming), but that's because some of the rules it operates with for resolution need tuning for a newer machine with better capabilities. That's what Graphics Rules Maker helps make easier for the average player. You can go into the game files yourself, if you know what you're doing, but that's not something everyone is comfortable doing. Rest assured, if you're using GRM, it's not the cause of pink soup. It isn't breaking your game. The community has not been promoting this tool wrongly. It's still a very good tool. Just follow the guide, and the vast majority of the time it's the best tool to help you get your game looking nice.

"But," I hear you say, "Why then do I have pink soup?" Well, because of your hardware. No, not the game's engine. Your hardware. Pink soup is a texture memory issue. The game displays pink soup when it hits a limit, and this is based on a few factors, but, as I understand it (and please, please correct me if I'm wrong here), it's down to these things: the hardware you have, the way you have changed the game files or other things on your computer to play nice with your fancy modern hardware, and the texture memory required to render your game when you're playing. That last thing is impacted by the custom content you use and the settings you play your game at. The advice in the original post about being conscious of how much you're putting into your downloads folder (and what), replacing certain content with lower texture alternatives, and even considering some of the in-game settings (though the recommendations in the post are for hardware that's really struggling to run the game) or turning off cheats that you use... all of that advice can be valid and useful if you are struggling with pink soup.

Crucially, however, the game's engine can handle all of this just fine. Is the game optimized to run on modern computers? No, of course not, because they didn't exist when it was released. However, that does not mean that it can't or that it can't run with high poly, high texture, highest settings, all of the visual cheats, and mods to make lot imposters fancy. It's just that running with all these things being true can be a challenge for the average Sims 2 player's hardware to support, and it may require fixes and hacks that not everyone feels comfortable setting up (or even know about), and therefore the Sims 2 hits a limit, and you see pink soup and crashing. Again, this is not the engine being hard coded to be unable to display 4k CC, this is (as I understand it) the game going "I don't know how to display that texture anymore because there's too much going on." This happens with a lot of games, actually. It's one of the reasons even modern games crash: because they stop understanding how to display the visual information because of hardware deficiencies and/or poor optimization (and probably other reasons but oh my god don't listen to me I'm a librarian not a programmer). Think of any time you've seen a game crash when you load into a new area, how the game stutters, or how it simply doesn't load. In my experience, that's down to my hardware being unable to handle the game loading so many new textures and 3D models all at once.

You may be asking how I know all this... and it's because my game is really stable. I played for 6 hours today (enjoying my last week of unemployment). I played with a lot of high texture, high poly CC and the highest possible settings the entire time, and my sims went to multiple community lots. My game did not flash pink once. It did not crash. The game's engine did not shit itself, and nor did my hardware struggle any more than it realistically does when I play BG3 on the highest settings (probably less, honestly). And all of this is because I'm an avid gamer and had the very good fortune of having a father that purchased my love with an expensive custom gaming PC, and because I have hunted down every possible recommendation for how to make sure a game doesn't run into texture memory issues, making multiple changes to the game files and to settings on my computer to avoid this issue. Because it works for me (and many others), that's all the evidence you need that it's not about it being a fundamental incompatibility with the game's engine.

I do think it's important for both custom content creators and simmers who enjoy CC to be aware of texture sizes and poly counts, and of how much their hardware can handle. What works for some people will not work universally. That's just the unfortunate reality. I think it's totally cool to encourage creators to provide smaller texture sizes for their content (or to provide that yourself when their TOU allow you to), or list the texture sizes so people can decide if they feel their hardware will support the load. Same with disclosing poly counts. Being aware of these things is important for ensuring you're able to play your game without pink soup or crashing. However, we should not forget that CC creators are hobbyists, in most cases (and that's how we prefer it because we get violent when creators monetize). They're usually creating content they want for their game, and presumably they're publishing it because they haven't run into any issues with using it. Can their content contribute to your pink soup issues? Yes. If you have high quality CC that's going to need to be rendered by the game the majority of the time you play, this will increase the likelihood that you run into issues with texture memory and encounter pink soup and crashing. Does CC need to be 4k? Scholars remain divided. My personal opinion is that I don't notice a huge difference between 2k and 4k the majority of the time, but that's just me, so... If you think lower texture content looks good, definitely use that in your game instead of the highest possible textures, but it's not wrong for those high textures to exist, and it's not CC that's poorly optimized for the game. It's "poorly optimized" for your machine because it was probably made by someone that has better hardware, and therefore created something they wanted according to what their hardware can handle. That's not wrong on the creator's part, and you may be able to ask them nicely for a smaller texture size alternative, or post on a CC request forum, or even try to learn how to adjust the texture size yourself if you'd like the content but you don't think your hardware will handle 4k too well.

I believe the Sims 2 community is full of people that want to help one another, so by all of us being conscious of the varying limitations of our hardware, I think we can foster a CC community that offers a variety of options for texture sizes and that reduces mesh poly counts (we already see this a lot). I also believe it's great if we all, as much as we can, share the resources we refer to when we're optimizing our games for our personal hardware configurations. That's why I like to reblog such resources.

[findmeinthefallair]

Thanks for tagging me @violet-prism-creatively ^^ (somehow couldn't reblog the post from you so am making a new thread)

Were you named after anyone? A famous actress

Do you have kids? Nope

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Kinda, especially when we talk about the ultra-Christian extended family lol

What's the first thing you notice about people? Face expression

What's your eye color? Dark brown

Scary movie or happy ending? Happy ending, I don't handle jumpscares well xD

Any special talents? (I've been told) Drawing, recognizing patterns, listening attentively

What are your hobbies? Art, vid games, reading, baking, travel

Have any pets? Technically nope, but I go visit our doggos at my parents' place a few times each week

What sports do you play/have you played? My upper left arm and shoulder got wrecked by bone cancer last year so, not anymore. But I used to do a bit of tennis and swimming

How tall are you? 5'3"

Favorite subject in school? I liked art and maths equally

Dream job? I technically had it for a while (psychotherapist) but the plan to move countries affected my licensing. But I hope to work in healthcare management in the future, unless you count freelance illustrator and graphic designer which is something I still do ^.^

No-pressure tagging: @childlikegoblinqueen @coffee-n-sleep @fangirling-heart and whoever wants to join in

[cussima]

𐙚₊˚ I ACCIDENTALLY MANIFESTED WHITE TEETH TODAY ⊹♡

post contents:

✴︎ how manifestations can show up ✴︎ doubts i had + how i didn't deal with them to show you that manifestations show up regardless ✴︎ context for my teeth before and now story time:

I had my braces removed in december of 2019, straight away you could tell how stained my teeth were afterward, but the pandemic happened. There wasn't a need to get them whitened out (since nobody was going to see my teeth), or a possibility (cuz who tf would go to the dentist when a virus transmitted through breathing was happening). Fast-forward to 2023, the stains were still there but I had no toothaches or anything, my teeth seemed perfectly healthy, but stained. Since I hadn't been to the dentist in three years, I got an appointment. But when I mentioned the stains and that I wanted to get rid of them the dentist dodged it, like completely ignored me !! I assumed she dodged me because I'm a student and the price for a whitening would be too expensive (😭) So I thought that was it ! I would have to live with the stains for the rest of my life. I did some research on stains, apparently, some are harder to remove than others, and since the last dentist had ignored me when I asked her about them, I assumed they were unremovable. Accepting that they were magic-unremovable-stains didn't have that much of an impact on me until a few weeks ago; when my teeth became whiter and the stains more noticeable due to the contrast between them. What did you do to manifest this away? + Limiting beliefs I had with this Well it was such a straight in my face thing that I said "no they're whiter now." and forgot about it, then went back to reacting to them when I would see them (and it still manifested as you see, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this) ✴︎ I was so determined to listen to the 3D that I changed my smile to make the stains wouldn't show as much, or I would cover my mouth when I smiled or laughed, etc. ✴︎ Went as far as thinking "this is the only thing about me that is unattractive" or I would compare myself to others thinking "They have crooked teeth and I don't, but at least they're white" ✴︎ Only yesterday I was watching a girl talking about auras, and she said smiling was extremely attractive and I said "must be easier when your teeth aren't stained, so I'll just not smile as much" Until today !! I had a dentist appointment for a yearly check-up (a different dentist) and I was absolutely dreading it. I hate hate hate !! The dentist, I only go because it's a responsibility I maintain for my health. I didn't have much money on me, only enough for the tooth decay I believed I had and the price of the appointment. Which wasn't a lot. When I got in the dentist checked my teeth, he said I definitely have a decay but it's between two teeth so it would cost double what I had. And he told me !! My teeth were really stained and I had to get them whitened, and the price of the whitening was the exact money I had with me for that appointment !! So obviously I took the chance and whitened them.

I am so happy with my new white teeth, I'm smiling so much now because I'm so confident on my smile. They literally look GORGEOUS. I am so excited y'all I'm soso happy. Moral of the story: Manifestations show up in different and unexpected ways, but they always always still come !! Even if you don't have a military persistence with them!

[wizardinggirl]

The Snake & The Raven

Summary: It’s been 2 years since Severus confessed his sin to you, his deepest, darkest secret. After the initial shock and betrayal, you have forgiven him and now the two of you have gotten together. (With much approval from the headmaster. You were beginning to think this was his plan all along.)

Warnings: none

Parts: Prologue (1/2) || Prologue (2/2) || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (I will link the rest as they’re posted)

Part 4: Tea Time

Word Count: 2.8k

2 years later…

Severus had changed. It took him a long time to heal, and it took him far longer to forgive himself than it took you. You don’t think he will ever fully forgive himself. He felt responsible for Lily’s death and that her son was now an orphan in an awful muggle home. He would have been taken into the care of Sirius Black, but you didn’t want to think about him and what he’d done.

You had decided to stay on as a teacher at Hogwarts after the first few months when the Ministry asked when you would be returning. Of course you loved your job as an Auror and it had been hard work to get there, but being here to mold these witches’ and wizards’ minds was far more rewarding. Additionally, it was a preventative measure. If you were able to be a good influence to some potential future Dark Wizards/Death Eaters, then it was worth it.

“Marrow, fix your stance or Edward’s is going to knock you off your feet. We’ve talked about this.” You twirled your wand in your hand as you watched two of your students duel, ready to intervene if needed. You’d seen a lot in your two years at Hogwarts, and learned the hard way that when the young upstarts dueled that you needed to be ready for anything. The other students cheered and you turned the other cheek at the few that had bets going. It was a hard class, more work than leisure, so you let them have fun in it when they could. You wanted them to still enjoy the class, after all.

“Whoa!” Marrow went flying off the dueling table.

“Arresto Momentum!” You cast on your student, it slowed her down enough to where she was placed on the ground rather than slamming into it.

“Thank you, Professor.” The class laughed and others cheered as Edwards strutted around the table, his fists pumping in the air with victory.

“Alright, Edwards. Off the table, one point to Gryffindor.” There was more cheering from the members of the respective house and you smiled. You decided that whenever they would duel, to add even more stakes, the winner would gain one point for their house. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give them a competitive edge. You made your way up the steps to your desk and faced the class.

“I’m sure we all saw what Marrow could have done differently.” There were giggles as the students took their seats. “Your stance is very important, not just in dueling. It can even affect other spells as well.” The bell rang as you finished your sentence. “Good job today, class. I will see all of your Monday.” The sounds of shuffling, books being put away and chairs scraping on the floor as the students left and some waved goodbye. As the last student left, a familiar shadowy figure strode through the door. “Hello, love.” You smiled as he approached.

“Good afternoon, Professor.” You raised a brow with a playful smirk when he was finally in front of you, raising lightly on your toes to peck his cheek.

“We’re far past ‘Professor’ when we’re alone, Severus.” A pink hue dusted his cheeks as he cleared his throat, keeping a neutral expression as he looked around the room to make sure there were no more students present.

“We are still on school grounds, y/n.”

“We’ve been on school grounds whe-” he shot you a look and you laughed. “Alright alright.” You tidied up your desk, pushed your chair in then went back to his side, leading him out of the classroom. “Let’s be off then, Professor.” You said the last part with a more suggestive tone as you nudged his arm with your own. He grumbled at you. As the two of you continued down the hall, Snape seemed more rigid and quiet than usual, and that’s his natural state. “Are you alright, Sev?” You asked sincerely, placing your arm on his as you walked. He looked down at you and gave the smallest twitch of a smile.

“I’m fine.” Then he turned his attention forward again. It wasn’t odd for him to deflect when you questioned him about his feelings, but something felt different about this time.

The two of you sat together at the professors’ table and quietly chatted like normal, but you could tell there was something off. You placed your hand on his thigh and he stiffened then relaxed. That was odd… you leaned over and sniffed. He leaned away, his head snapping to you with a shocked expression on his face.

“What are you doing?” You actually couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. You leaned back in your chair, your hand still resting on his thigh.

“I’m just making sure I didn’t smell any knotgrass or fluxweed on you.” You shrugged and took a sip of water from the cup in front of you.

“Why would I-” he paused, returning to his normal position then leaning slightly towards you. “Were you smelling for Polyjuice?” Your eyes looked at him then back to your drink and you shrugged letting out a ‘hmph’, setting your glass back down.

“Just making sure it was you.” He let out a sigh then took the hand that was on his thigh and placed it on your own, leaving his hand on top of it as you took a bite from your plate. He leaned in to whisper so only you could hear.

“I’ll prove to you it’s me tonight.” You nearly choked. Severus rubbed your back and patted it lightly as you coughed. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he was just giving you a concerned look. He had no idea what he just implied.

Later that night you and Severus were walking around Hogsmeade, enjoying the cool night air before your u had to be at the tea house. You’d chosen to wear a flowy dress with short puffed sleeves. It had a blue floral design on the body and pure white on the skirt and sleeves. Along with a simple silver chain that had a small sapphire set in the middle. Something Severus had gotten you, knowing your affinity for your house colors, as a thank you for being there for him. The two of you had been together officially for over a year now. You had told him you wanted the two of you to do something special together, nothing big, just special. But, both of you were so busy you hadn’t had the time until now. He had come to your quarters a few days prior with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

**flashback**

“Y/n?” His hand still on the doorknob and not leaving the threshold.

“Yes, Sev?” You make your way down the two steps from where your bedroom was and wrap your robe around yourself tighter. You had already changed into your nightgown and it was quite sheer. “You can come in.” His eyes scanned you from head to toe then he cleared his throat and looked the other way.

“I won’t be long.” He looks back to your eyes, you were directly in front of him now, him looking down at you. “I merely had a question to ask you.” you smiled and placed both hands on his abdomen, letting your robe open slightly.

“Well, you are always welcome to stay.” He gives you a closed lip smile and brings one of his hands to yours and squeezes it gently.

“I have some matters that need attending to. Someone’s been stealing from my inventory.”

“And you wanted my help?” You ask, smirking up at him. He deadpanned.

“No, I can handle it quite efficiently on my own thank you.” You let out a laugh.

“Then what is it you needed to ask me?” He was trying to keep his eyes from looking at your nightdress, a slight blush ghosting his cheeks.

“Are you available this weekend?” He moves his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I am, did you have something in mind?” You ask, straightening the front of his robe.

“We’ve been busy and haven’t been able to celebrate like you had wanted. I may not understand it, but if it means something to you it does to me. I’ve made reservations on Friday at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea House for us.” To say you were surprised was an understatement. Sure, he was romantic, but it was more in small gestures. A potion for a hangover or a snack if you looked peckish. There were those few times where he did pick you a flower, but that was pretty rare. He’d done nothing quite like this. You couldn’t help but tear up. His eyes widened and he cupped your face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. I just thought-” you shake your head and smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, his instinctively going to hold your waist.

“They’re happy tears, Severus. This is so sweet of you.” He blushes and looks away, affection and closeness was still something new to him. Something he was slowly warming up to. “It’ll be fun, I can’t wait.” His mouth turned into a closed lip smile as he looked back to meet your eyes. You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” You ask, raising a brow. He brings his hand up to cup your jaw and ran his thumb over your cheek.

“I want to, dear, but I should get to the bottom of this before the week’s end.”

“Alright then.” You press one more kiss to his lips before he pulls away.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, love.” He went to turn away, but stopped and faced you again, studying your face then leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You smiled up at him then his retreating form and closed the door.

**end of flashback**

The two of you walked into the tea house, a little bell ringing as Severus held the door open for you. Madam Puddifoot looks up from her current table and smiles, excuses herself from them then wipes her hands on her apron.

“Hello, hello, welcome. Come in, come in!” She ushers the two of you inside. “Mr. Snape, it’s good to see you again. I have the private tea room ready for you and your lovely lady.” You couldn’t help but smile at that. As she started leading the two of you up the narrow steps up to the second floor you looked up at Severus.

“Private room?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“You said you wanted something special.”

“I did.” You smile, he must have put a lot of effort into this. You followed Madam Puddifoot up the stairs. Severus put his hand on your lower back to make sure you didn’t fall backwards. You couldn’t help the way it made you tingle. Not only were the stairs narrow, they were fairly steep too. He wasn’t about to have the night ruined because of a nasty fall. After walking down a short hallway at the top of the stairs the Madam opened the double doors at the end of the hall.

“Here we are.” She steps aside to let the two of you in. “I’ll be back in a moment with a fresh pot of tea.” Severus guides you into the room and to your chair, pulling it out for you.

“Thank you.” You lean up to kiss his cheek then take a seat and he pushes your chair in for you. “Such a gentleman tonight.” You tease and he lets out a grunt in response as he takes his seat across from you. You laugh and take the napkin from the table and place it on your lap. “Truly, though.” You reach your hand across the table and place it on his. “This is lovely, Sev. Thank you.” He takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“You deserve the best.” He practically whispered. You smile brightly at him. He’s really laying on the charm tonight. The two of you sat there for a moment, enjoying each other's company while he watched as he ran his thumb over your knuckles, deep in thought. He let go of your hand and sat up straight when Madam Puddifoot came back into the room.

“Here we are.” You moved your arm out of the way as she filled both of your tea cups. When you looked back to Severus he was staring into his tea with that same look in his eyes that he had when he came to your room a few days ago. Almost as if he was unsure about something. “Please help yourselves to any of the sandwiches and pastries on the table there.” She motions to the long table on the wall to your right with a large assortment of goodies. “They were freshly made for you. If you need anything else, just ring the bell.” She exited the room and closed the doors gently behind her. Once she was gone you took a sip of your tea and hummed contently, closing your eyes.

“This is lovely.” When you opened your eyes, Severus was staring at you. “What?” You ask with a smirk on your face.

“I’m admiring.” He stated simply, then broke eye contact and took a sip of his own tea. You smiled to yourself and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company. Eventually, you had gotten up and grabbed a plate of pastries for you and Severus. The two of you ate and chatted and about some of your students and about current events. When the two of you had your fill, you left, thanking Madam Puddifoot on the way out.

“Shall we head back?” You ask, arms lacing through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He placed his free hand on yours.

“I have one more thing I would like to do.”

“Oh?” You ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “Lead the way.”

Severus led you to a concrete balcony that overlooked the highlands. It was dark now, the street lamps dimly glowing around you. The moon was full and the stars were twinkling, it was a gorgeous night. You let out a sigh and turn to face him to hug him around his middle.

“Thank you for such a wonderful date, Sev. It was perfect.” He looks down at you, bringing one arm to rest on your shoulder and the other to your cheek, you leaned into his touch. “I really do love you.” He stiffens at first then kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too.” He whispered into your hair. “I know I’m not worthy of it,” he lifts his head to look back into your eyes. “Or you.” You give him a sad smile then take his hands to hold them in between the two of you.

“Don’t say that, Severus. You’re more worthy than any man could ever be.” His eyes started to tear up at that. He searched your face for any sign of dishonesty, that maybe this was some long running joke that James and Sirius were pulling on him. There was no way someone so kind and loving was real. Not to him. He slowly sank in front of you to one knee, keeping your hands in his. “Severus?”

“I'm not the man that you deserve, y/n.” He turned his gaze to look at your hands in his and ran his thumbs over the back of them. “I’m stubborn, selfish, damaged, but you see the good in me, even when I cannot see it myself.” Your eyes began to water. Was this really happening? “Y/n.” He let go of your right hand and reached into the inside pocket of his robe to pull out a small velvet box. He looked at it for a moment before opening it and presenting it to you. When his eyes met yours again, he was the most sincere you had ever seen him. “I love you. I thought no one could ever love me, that it was simply my lot in life. But you showed me otherwise and pulled me from my darkness. You are my light. Will you marry me?”

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter please let me know!

Tags: @lizard-zombie @liviacarol88-blog @johnmurphys-sass

[exhuastedpigeon]

Lemme help with those Hockey AUs...

👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

Kenna I knew I could count on you.

39 for 👨🏽(ps this fic was inspired by your manip of hockey player Eddie with a moustache)

Where Buck’s mustache is still pretty light, Eddie’s is dark and lush and honestly, Buck wants to put his mouth on it. 

Which is not the way he’s supposed to think about his teammate. 

Even if that teammate is also Buck’s secret husband. Emphasis on the secret part. While they were out to the team and their family and friends, they weren’t out publicly at the advice of their agent and the Kings front office. 

But Buck might accidentally out them this November if he didn’t get himself under control. It was just, Eddie looked kind of insanely hot with a mustache. This wasn't the first November he’d known Eddie, in fact this wasn’t even the first November where he’d been in a relationship with Eddie. It was just, this November something seemed different. 

“Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. 

“I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. 

“Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. 

“Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. 

“If you managed to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to my mustache.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Well, within reason,” Eddie laughed. “We have to get on a plane and fly to Boston tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I can stay out of the box,” Buck said confidently, even though there was a very good chance he was lying. It wasn’t his fault they were playing the Ducks. Everyone knew the Ducks sucked, that was just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Eddie Diaz is the love of Evan Buckley’s life. The Ducks stopped being cool in 2006 when they changed their name from the Mighty Ducks to just the Ducks. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie laughed and pressed a kiss to Buck’s mouth. Buck had expected the mustache to tickle, but he found he actually liked the feeling of it against his skin. Oh god, did he have a mustache kink that had somehow only now unlocked in him?

(He didn’t manage to stay out of the box, but Eddie let it slide because Buck had only gotten thrown in the box after he’d dropped gloves with Jonah Greenway after he ran Chimney in the crease.) 

–

“Someone on Twitter called Eddie’s mustache the gayest thing they’ve ever seen in the NHL and, this is a direct quote, that’s impressive because hockey is the most homoerotic sport to ever exist,” Chimney said on November 13th. They were on the world’s shortest flight from Long Island to Philly and Chimney was entertaining them by reading funny tweets about the team. 

“Everything I do is gay,” Eddie said without opening his eyes. He’d played over thirty-five minutes in their game the night before after Millsy had blocked a shot with his face, so Eddie was so exhausted that Buck could feel it radiating off of him. 

It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t played an extra few minutes last night too, but Eddie was a left handed defenceman and so was Millsy, so Eddie had done a lot of double shifting. It had paid off, they’d won the game by one goal. 

“Is your mustache this season extra glorious and sexy this year because you’re fully embracing your gay-ness?” Chimney asked and coming from anyone else Buck knew Eddie would have been a little annoyed, but Chimney was - well he was Chimney. He was always in their corner even when he was pissed at them. 

“Probably,” Eddie smiled, eyes still closed. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Freddie Mercury and post a picture saying we have more than just a mustache in common.”

Buck’s brain short circuited for a second at the mental image of Eddie dressed up like Freddie Mercury, but he was thankfully pulled from that thought before it got not safe for work when Chimney spoke again.

and 39 for 🏒 under the cut

They’re tied 1-1 in the third period against the Ducks when Buck lays a hit on Smith along the boards in the natural zone, knocking him off the puck long enough for Eddie and his fucking beautiful hands to gain possession. Buck grins at Smith as he pushes off of him and follows behind his defense partner, entering the zone two seconds after him. Buck back checks the Duck’s defender that’s coming up behind him to keep him away from the puck and give Eddie another second to put the puck on net. 

And here’s the thing, Buck knows their team is good - they’re the second best team in the western conference right now. It’s like Eddie was the missing piece they’d needed to really take them up to the next level, but in the middle of a game he isn’t thinking about that. All he’s thinking about is that he needs to give the guys the best chance they have to score. Eddie sends the puck back to Mateo and screens the goalie as Mateo passes the puck to Buck at the point to reset the play. 

It’s like it happens in slow motion - Buck takes a shot from the point, not because he thinks he’s going to score, but because he wants to get the puck to the net so they can try to score on the rebound. Except the rebound doesn’t come. Instead, Eddie tips Buck’s shot, redirecting it over Gibson’s shoulder on his stick side, sending the puck into the back of the net.

The ref signals that it’s a goal and before the horn can sound, Eddie is on him, practically tackling him to the ice in celebration. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie on instinct, holding him close as TK, Paul, and Mateo crash into them.

"You're a fucking beauty, Buckley," Eddie says, his mouth pressed against Buck neck in a hug.

They manage to hold onto the lead and when Chim insists on taking everyone out for a drink after because they held onto the lead and didn’t let their defensive play slip even when they were winning. Buck says yes without second thought. He’s expecting most of the younger guys to come out with them, the ones without wives and girlfriends at home. The ones without kids waiting for them. 

He’s expecting Eddie to say he needs to get home to Chris. He isn’t expecting Eddie to say, “I’m in.”

“Is Carla staying late?” Buck asks quietly as they change after cooling down and showering. 

“Shannon’s got him tonight,” Eddie says just as quietly. Buck’s pretty sure the only other person who knows about Eddie’s complicated relationship with his ex is Coach, for some reason being in on that secret, to have earned that kind of confidence from Eddie, makes Buck warm all over. 

“Well then it’s dad’s night out, huh?” Buck grins and slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders even though they both smell fucking rank and they should really hit the showers. 

“There aren’t many nights where we win, we don’t have a game for five whole days, and I don’t have to rush home to relieve the babysitter,” Eddie grins right back. “Let’s go get fucking hammered, Buck.”

They’re in the locker room surrounded by their teammates. There’s at least two reporters in the room with them right now. Buck can see Ravi has his phone out and is probably live on Instagram. None of it matters, not with the way Eddie’s smiling at him. Not with the way Eddie pulls Buck into his orbit and keeps him there whenever he’s in the room. 

“I-I think everyone is going to get hammered,” Buck says, eyes on Eddie’s mouth because he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be doing it with you,” Eddie says and then he ducks out from under Buck’s arm with a laugh. “Come on, we gotta shower. I bet you smell worse than Sid’s lucky jock.”

make me write

[damthosefandoms]

I posted 5,724 times in 2022

57 posts created (1%)

5,667 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sohotthateveryonedied

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I tagged 816 of my posts in 2022

#asks - 19 posts

#my post - 15 posts

#yeah - 14 posts

#birthday stuff - 12 posts

#it tim - 9 posts

#drcdiscord - 7 posts

#yeah. - 6 posts

#percy jackson - 6 posts

#it’s true - 6 posts

#pjo - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#my parents fully aware that i’ve been obsessed with pokémon since i was six and i’m still all oh no can’t let them know i’m watching pokemon

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Assuming you’ve read percy Jackson from your username

I was thinking how percy doesn’t get wet when he gets in and out of water like a duck and isn’t that because ducks produce oils to keep water sliding off their feathers? Is percy just an oily boy??

this is the weirdest ask I’ve ever gotten thank you so much

78 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#4

if speedsters get to pick the age they and their lightning rods want to be and tim drake is eternally 17 is it because the rest of the core 4 are bart's lightning rods

yes next question

139 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

#3

LOOK i didn’t want to be a half blood i didn’t ask to be a hero seeking praise being a half-blood it’s scary it mostly gets you killed in very nasty ways i didn’t wanna cause trouble trouble i’m less a player and more the played and honestly i’d totally be fine if i could make it to the next grade (next grade) it wasn’t dirty socks or my stepdad it was danger that i smelled the day it all went down the day i got expelled

183 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#2

my absolutely favorite thing about the batman is that bruce spends the entire movie looking like a sad, lost, kicked puppy. he is so pathetic, he looks greasy and tired and like the personification of Gotham if the city had a human form and I think that is why this movie is so goddamn perfect. there has never been a more comic-accurate, pathetic, loser of a batman, and for that I am SO thankful

265 notes - Posted March 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

America who? Steve Rogers is 104 today and would also punch the entire supreme court in the face if given the opportunity

2,051 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[bixels]

While I do think anon was rude, I do think it's pretty shitty to set up all this stuff you were going to add the au and then just drop it. It's disappointing. Definitely unfollowing.

Bye.

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[b4kuch1n]

frog documentation. frogcumentation

I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child

took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this

zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like

happy extremely late birthday to this thing also

[front-facing-pokemon]

[vargaslovinghours]

Requestober 2023: Vargas Edition

The playlist has returned for this year! There will be a few in between, but it should be updating at least once a week on either Wednesday or Friday or both - keep an eye out for your req(s)!

I considered a couple different lines for day 1 - there are just so many Narrator lines that could work for Scriabin! Any of the many times where the Narrator is being sadistic, it all just works. Plus, it’s fun to imagine Scriabin trapping Edgar in the same way, just shoops a wall right into his path haha

But in the end I went for one of the tags I left myself on the original TSP/Vargas crossover doodles, it does still live in my head rent-free after all. You can see in the background that those “invisible” tears were intended from the beginning as well :3c

There’s also something funny to me about Scriabin using the word “rubbish” haha ♪ How posh

Edgar, as usual, getting blame for something that was definitely his Narrator, I mean Scriabin’s fault lol

I really wasn’t sure what to do with day 2 at first - I’m too scared to watch any of the SAWs, or look them up on YouTube >~< I tried finding transcripts with stage direction or people describing them in text online but I couldn’t really find anything, I really do appreciate my friend for telling me about one haha. Even with that though, I still had to do a lot of guesswork! Something about wrists, fear, not doing well - Scriabin is very cute hiding behind Edgar but it’s still not very obvious what the theme is, huh?

I was able to find a very brief animation of I think? the trap that had been described to me but even that was a bit much for me :’D I was a very wimp that day! I didn’t even have it in me to draw the trap itself in the sketch! There’s something a bit ominous about not being able to see into the trap completely, only the blood pooling at the bottom ♪ But I’m still happy I went with what I did in the end, though I did have to change Scriabin’s dialogue from fear to accusation - though that tracks for him haha

Day 3 was silly and therefore easy to whip up haha ♪ The angst is done, the blood is done, this leaves only kisses! Any opportunity to use my pencils to make kiss-marks, I will take lol. Clearly this is what the prompt was pointing at! Obviously! Lol

If you look, Jake’s lips are painted pink and Scriabin’s red, and they have each other’s lipstick marks on their faces lol - I am attention to detail when it comes to kisses ♪

I did still end up making an alt even after pretty much decided on the first one, it’s still fun to think about Scriabin interacting with Jake before he gets his own body ♫ He’s so smug lol, at least they’re easy to cover! Ish! Mostly! Probably itch tho lol

Day 5, yaaay some Biblical Edgar <3 I have been out of practice drawing wings lately so they’re basically just Big Shapes here lol, it’s all about blocking out the space they’ll take for when it’s cleaned! I am quite happy with how he turned out digitally, his cute face ♥

Day 7 got a couple passes as well before settling! It’s a theme lol, though there were both kidverse! The prompt mentioned “brothers” but that doesn’t necessarily mean when they were kids - they can be silly and sibling-like even After, they have the range. Still, Edgar pushing him on the swing as a kid was a cute idea so I’m glad I at least scratched it down haha. Why’s he so heavy? He’s dense ♪

The alt was the winner tho! I love how much like a bug Scriabin looks here haha, how could he have possibly seen this coming??

Day 8′s sketch was done outside in the dark actually, stargazing very appropriate!  You can kinda see me go back and forth on their clothes in the moment lol, Edgar’s striped shirt visible on his upper arms underneath his long sleeves and I still ended up going with a scarf! I also planned to make their breath clouds but I forgot them in the end, that background took up a lot of my focus lol. Also how come Edgar’s feet turned out better here than in the final version >:P

Gaster! A warmup for Day 9 since it’s been a bit since I’ve drawn him, especially with the cracks in his face! Scriabin is annoying his offscreen so it still totally counts as being Vargas-themed lol

Their poses were a bit subdued initially so I knew I wanted to try again, but at the same time there are a lot of elements here that I liked! Especially their hands, Gaster holding his hands in fists at his sides rather than speaking to Scriabin through sign language, and Scriabin with his flourish-opened palm, inviting ♪

Actual pose skeletons lol, though Gaster’s was a bit top-heavy. It all worked out in the end at least :)

Day 11 was a very fun concept! Turning Scriabin into an Enderman was an especially fun idea if Edgar could figure/find out that he could hide from him using a pumpkin mask, though I’m sure that would make Scriabin mad as well once he found him haha. Just sneeaaak quietly behind him, he’ll never know! Also the pumpkin having Edgar’s glasses, goatee, and scars carved into it haha <3

All the same, I’m glad I went with what I did - Scriabin’s pose is so much more dynamic! Very fun! His hands and his legs, and the way his coat flares out! Plus putting his Ender teeth on display was a lot of fun haha ♪ Poor Edgar can’t catch a break no matter what world he’s in, at least I didn’t actually turn him into a sheep lol

Day 12, yaaaay I finally got to Uncle Jake! So nervous <3 Don’t break the baby, don’t hurt him don’t move too much ahhh! Haha, terribly cute ♥ I do still really love how confident Edgar is here - he’s usually so nervous around Jake, but oh how the tables! Dadgar with a support system <3 His FWB comes to say hi to his son, it’s very wholesome hehe ♪

Day 13 was actually drawn way of out of order, between several of the later days and even day 12 I think lol, it’s so hard to convince my brain to listen to new music haha. It was quite a lot of fun making the text not look like it’s “spoken,” outside of a text bubble hehe, I don’t do that too often! And of course still deeply inspired by his palette challenge, it is too pretty to not pull from every not and again <3

Honestly I initially had no ideas for day 14, and yet this was still the only sketch I ended up with! My earworm at the time came in clutch, honestly do listen to Everything In You it’s such pretty yearning starcrossed song ah <3 All these musical doodles haha ♪ Sweetness sweetness <3

And of course when they’re that close there has to be a kiss! Scriabin is surprised, but how much? :3c Edgar giving Scriabin kisses of his own accord 💖 That theme never really left me either hehe

Day 27, the last Vargas day! Had to get in one Snake Charmer before the end huh haha ♪ It’s too bad my Ladyverse!Naga idea was a bit too long or I would’ve done that, but I’ll never turn down the potential for pretty clothes! And spiders for that matter haha, I went with the Acanthoscurria Geniculata - Brazilian Whiteknee again :) As much as I love Scriabin as a Bold Jumper, tarantulas just have such gorgeous proportions! And of course, I always enjoy drawing Lady!Scriabin, so it was doubly fun to draw her as a spider :)

That’s all of this year’s Vargas sketches! A fun bunch! And it was fun to mix a few others in as well :D

[sysig]

Really digging out the old OCs now; Pan-na, Pilok, Azalea, squirrel boys Will and Damien, and Cupid and Venus <3 (Patreon)

[sagittariangirl27]

Pisces new moon tonight. 🌑♓️🦇