#You simply have terrible time management skills

[nighty-amy]

I want a boss like him

[starlost97]

— forgiveness.

summary: After a fight, you decided that the best way to punish Arthur was simply not talking. He couldn't, however, take it any longer after seeing you in a silk red dress.

tags: silent treatment, not really fluff but not really angst, kind of sexual, he begs, Arthur is a simp, f!reader.

characters: Arthur Leclerc.

warnings: reader wears a dress, reader is referred to as "sweet girl".

a/n: the first shortfic to a series of formula 1 one shots! me and my friend did this thing where we write things of our favorite drivers to one another and I decided to post some (a lot) of them. hope u enjoy it! this one's prompt is "wearing a revealing dress while giving them the silent treatment". also, the next one will probably be either a Jenson Button one or a Max Verstappen one!

word count: 342.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

Arthur never regretted something more in his entire life.

Sure, right after raising his voice in his argument with you he already felt like the worst boyfriend ever. You two were discussing his crappy time management skills and since he was already stressed, he ended up telling you to shut up.

And he regretted that terribly.

He had given you apology letters, perfumed them with his cologne — which you once told him was one of your favorite scents — and left them on your nightstand. But that didn’t seem to help much — even though he caught you smiling to one of them one day.

He was already hopeless by day two. He didn’t even know what to do anymore.

But when he saw you with that silky red dress, it was inevitable.

His knees failed him — thank God they did —, and soon enough he was crawling to you, putting his hands on your thighs.

“Baby, please.” He shamelessly begged. He didn’t know how long he could endure this torture anymore. “I might actually go insane without hearing your voice, mon amour.”

His eyes got lost in the way the silk hugged your body. The soft cloth moved around your waist freely, cruelly reminding him of your smooth skin underneath it, making him desperate. Desperate for your body, for your touch, for your sweet whispers against his ear.

“You know I don't mind begging you, don’t you, sweet girl?” Arthur asked, looking up at you. He grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, then wrist, then arm. Slowly, he reached your ear. “I beg you to tell me what I have to do to earn your forgiveness. I’ll do anything, darling. Anything.” He whispers. His desperation was palpable enough for you to touch. “You have me entirely to you, and that means that I’ll do as you wish. So please, baby, tell me how I can show you how much I regret saying those things.”

In the end, Arthur showed how sorry he was.

And how thankful he felt to earn your so desperately desired forgiveness.

[thegoldencontracts]

Jumpscaring The Dormheads

Riddle yelps like a little girl. His reaction is funny... Except for the part where he collars you out of shock. However, after his overblot, he did realize the cruelty of his Unique Magic, so he's extremely apologetic after he finishes his long-winded lecture. Why did you scare him like that? It's immature! Look what he's done to you! It's honestly hilarious. He swears you to secrecy afterwards, of course.

Leona is almost impossible to jumpscare. Seriously. Most of the time, he'll immediately catch on. However, the keyword here is almost. With the right preparation, and a lot of luck - I mean a lot - you might just be able to catch him off-guard. The reaction is priceless. He jumps up like a kitten. The sight will forever be ingrained in your memory.

Azul cannot restrain his octopus instincts. Yes, indeed, his wary, sensitive nature takes over against his will, and... He punches you. Hard. As funny as the shriek he let out was and forever will be, was it really worth it? He's terribly mortified afterwards, after all, decking someone doesn't exactly fall in line with the gentlemanly image he wishes to create. He sits you down and works out a Non-disclosure agreement. You're laughing despite the pain.

Kalim is one of the worst people to jumpscare. He's dealt with kidnappings before, and because of it, his defensive instincts have grown strong. Doing such a thing is just asking to find out how good Kalim's martial arts skills really are. He might just tell you this outright, with a little smile you'd expect from someone sharing a mere funny anecdote. But the way his eyes glaze over, lifeless, almost, says it all.

Vil is merely annoyed. Although it's usually quite difficult to jumpscare him in the first place, his reaction is still funny. He thinks it's rather foolish of you, though, chastising you. What if he'd been someone with quick reflexes and decked you? What if he'd accidentally cast a spell on you? There's simply too many risks. His reaction was still funny, though. Not everyone gets to see Vil Schoenheit himself scream like a little kid.

Idia is extremely jumpy. Why would you do this to him? His heart's beating so fast it's insane! After recovering from his own shock, after the last of his wheezing pants in a desperate attempt to regain his breath, Idia goes on a tangent about how stupid the normie phenomenon of jumpscaring is.

Malleus is shocked. You? Managed to scare him? It's a bit of a blow to his pride, in all honesty. Even Lilia often failed, after all! But despite his indignation, he is rather fascinated. Considering how amusing the whole thing seemed to you... perhaps Lilia was correct about the entertainment value of jumpscares. He'll have to try this out. Poor Sebek's on the verge of a heart attack from Malleus's coming up behind him and saying 'Boo'.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader. With stop being so pretty/handsome.” “You stop being so pretty/handsome!” Thanks!! :))

beautiful

benedict bridgerton x fem wife reader

Benedict Bridgerton was in the drawing room, a mess of papers scattered across the mahogany table. His easel stood nearby, a canvas half covered in the beginnings of a vibrant landscape. He had been at it for hours, completely absorbed in his art, when the door creaked open and Y/N stepped in, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

"You’ve been in here all morning," Y/N chided gently, setting the tray down on a clear corner of the table. "You must be famished."

Benedict looked up, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of his wife. "I hadn't realized the time," he admitted, rising from his chair and stretching his stiff limbs. "But now that you mention it, I am quite hungry."

As he approached, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. His dark curls were tousled, and there was a smudge of paint on his cheek, adding to his roguish charm. She felt her heart skip a beat, as it often did when she looked at him.

"You have paint on your face," she said, reaching up to wipe it away with her thumb. "And you still manage to look devastatingly handsome."

Benedict caught her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers. "You stop being so pretty," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "It's terribly distracting."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and musical. "You stop being so handsome," she retorted. "It's not fair."

They stood there for a moment, simply enjoying each other's presence. Benedict's thumb brushed over her knuckles, his touch warm and reassuring. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I suppose we're both cursed, then," he whispered.

"Cursed with beauty," Y/N agreed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What a dreadful fate."

Benedict chuckled, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Indeed. Now, tell me about your morning. What mischief have you been up to while I’ve been locked away with my paints?"

"Oh, the usual," Y/N said airily, resting her head against his chest. "A bit of reading, a walk in the garden. I did have an interesting conversation with Eloise about her latest literary endeavor."

"Ah, Eloise and her books," Benedict mused. "She’s always up to something, isn’t she?"

"Yes, she is," Y/N said fondly. "But enough about my morning. I want to hear about your painting. Show me what you’ve been working on."

Benedict led her to the easel, where the canvas stood proudly displaying the beginnings of a lush countryside scene. The colors were vibrant, the strokes confident and expressive. Y/N marveled at the way he captured the essence of nature with such skill.

"It’s beautiful," she breathed. "You have such a talent, Benedict."

He shrugged modestly, though her praise clearly pleased him. "It’s still a work in progress. But I’m glad you like it."

"I love it," she corrected, her eyes meeting his. "Just as I love you."

Benedict’s expression softened, and he cupped her face in his hands. "And I love you, Y/N. More than words can say."

Their lips met in a tender kiss, the world around them fading away. In that moment, there was only the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of their love and the promise of countless beautiful moments yet to come.

When they finally pulled apart, Benedict pressed his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Stay with me," he murmured. "Let’s enjoy this day together."

"Of course," Y/N whispered, her heart full. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

And so they spent the rest of the day side by side, painting, talking, and simply being together. The hours slipped by unnoticed, filled with laughter and light. In the comfort of each other's presence, they found a joy that was as boundless as their love, and the world outside seemed a little brighter, a little more beautiful.

As the afternoon sun cast a golden glow through the windows, they decided to take a break and stroll through the garden. The summer flowers were in full bloom, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. Benedict held Y/N’s hand as they walked, his thumb gently stroking her palm.

"Do you remember our first walk in this garden?" Y/N asked, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips.

"How could I forget?" Benedict replied. "I was utterly captivated by you. Still am, in fact."

"You were so nervous," Y/N teased. "You could barely string a sentence together."

"Well, you were and still are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen," Benedict said earnestly. "It was quite overwhelming."

Y/N laughed, the sound like music to Benedict’s ears. "And now look at us," she said. "Walking hand in hand, perfectly at ease."

"Perfectly in love," Benedict added, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

They continued their stroll, enjoying the serenity of the garden and the simple pleasure of each other's company. As they rounded a corner, they came upon a secluded bench beneath a large oak tree. Benedict led Y/N to it, and they sat down, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above them.

"You’ve always been my muse, you know," Benedict said softly, gazing at Y/N. "Every brushstroke, every color, every canvas it’s all inspired by you."

"That’s a lot of pressure," Y/N joked, but her eyes were shining with affection.

"Not at all," Benedict said. "You make it effortless. You bring so much joy and light into my life. I couldn’t imagine my art, or my life, without you."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. "And you, Benedict, have filled my life with such beauty and love. Every day with you is a blessing."

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. It was a kiss that spoke of love, of commitment, and of the future they would continue to build together.

As the day turned to dusk, they made their way back to the house, hand in hand. The drawing room, once filled with the solitary pursuit of art, now felt warmer, more alive. They settled on the settee, sharing the tea and biscuits Y/N had brought earlier.

"Shall we make this a tradition?" Y/N suggested. "A day dedicated to us, to spending time together, no matter what."

"I’d like that very much," Benedict agreed. "A day just for us, every week."

"Good," Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Because I love our moments together. They’re my favorite part of every day."

"And mine," Benedict said, wrapping his arm around her. "Always and forever, Y/N."

They sat there in comfortable silence, watching as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. Their hearts were full, their spirits content. In each other, they had found a love that was not only beautiful but also enduring a love that would see them through all of life’s challenges and triumphs.

And as they drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that they were not just blessed with beauty, but with something far more precious: a deep, abiding love that would last a lifetime

[earlysunshines]

are we still friends? (can we be friends?)

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff, angst 

synopsis: seeing sana again during christmas causes feelings to resurface

warnings: food ; alcohol ; datzu crumbs ; cursing ; proofread halfway bc i got lazy + grammar and spelling errors probably

a/n: how to write angst?? am i cooked?? (I'm cooked) ALSO I wrote this in December so a lonnnngg time ago like when I touched the doc for the first time two days ago it said last edited 12/30/23 T-T

“y/n! come help with the decorations, it a bit tough to reach.” your mom calls out from the entrance.  

pausing in your place, you turn to respond to her, “i’ll be there in a bit, let me finish mixing everything.” 

“okay honey. make sure to wear a coat when you get out here, it’s chilly!” she yells back before closing the door. 

a giggle leaves your lips as you continue to sift the dry ingredients, trying not to spill the flour and sugar. when you’re done with a part of your cookie process, you wash your hands and throw on your puffer jacket before heading out to help your mom. 

christmas is in four days and your mom has this annual thing where she throws a big party at your place every christmas eve. she invites all her friends who are back in town—some even fly out to come to this big event—and it goes on until the concerningly late hours of the night.  

your mom didn’t get to throw this big party last year because she was terribly sick, so you missed it that time, but now she’s so back.  

this means you’re in charge of the baking (yet again) and also helping her out everywhere. it’s not that you don’t enjoy this, if anything you look forward to this event—just not this year, it won’t be the same as the previous christmas parties. 

your mom has this friend who moved in five minutes away from your house when you were twelve, and they had a daughter your age. of course, both your mothers found a way to get you guys to meet, and eventually, you’d be spending the majority of your middle and high school years together stuck by the hip. 

her name was minatozaki sana; she was the first person you had fallen in love with inside and out.  

she had this type of vibrance to her that spread through her surroundings like a bullet train. if the room was dim, it’d seem like she had brought a piece of the sun inside just by being there, instantly illuminating it. it was palpable that she had her flaws, everyone did, but with the way she held herself up and gave her all, you’d see right past her imperfections and into that warm heart of hers. 

sana expected nothing and appreciated everything, that’s what made her lips curl up into a contagious grin. the streaks of creased skin in the corner of her eyes as she flashed that toothy grin gave everyone the intimation that she was simply overjoyed to be able to have the ability to love and to care. she was so beautiful in the way she found adoration so enticing, and that’s why you had fallen in love with her. 

your years with her passed by quickly, each year was filled with vibrant memories that led you to fall even deeper into her charm. however, you never mustered up the courage to tell her how you really felt toward her, and by the time you had gotten close to spilling out your pent up feelings; sana had found herself a little boyfriend. 

chris was some guy on the basketball team—who was also a bit short and lacking skill to even make the team—he was an arrogant, pretentious, and egotistical snob who managed to win sana’s heart. how did he do this? who knows, everyone who’s interacted with him either hates his guts or is in love with his pathetic self.  

he was only nice around sana, but you had seen him when he wasn’t pretending like there wasn't a stick up his ass. he was below the bare minimum and that’s how you’d describe him, he was nowhere near sana’s league. if anything, maybe you were just jealous (and that you were), but you knew what kind of person deserved sana—chris was not someone who deserved a wonderful woman like her. 

that asshole managed to win sana’s heart and keep it for half of junior year and all of senior year of high school, then he managed to convince her to go to a college that was a five-hour flight away from home—and by the way, your town was a two-hour drive from a well-known, top notch university, one that you and sana agreed to go to when you were both in middle school. 

there was no way you’d let sana go to that college, not when chris was the reason she was going. it was a school that wasn’t even comparable to the one not so far from home, the one that had significant alumni and programs fit for the both of you. sana could easily win a decent scholarship to the university you’ve been dreaming of going to, but she was going to let him change her mind in a matter of seconds. 

there was no way you’d let that happen, so you simply walked over to her house and stormed up to her room after seeing her text regarding this whole plan, a fool’s plan.  

- 

you remember the argument that shattered your friendships in seconds, almost like it was yesterday. 

“sana, you can’t just go to that school because of chris. look, i’m saying this as your friend and because i love you: he’s not all that, and the uni nearby has great health programs, they’re ten times better than the school over there and you know it.” you argue.  

you’re pacing around the room that you and sana have had countless late-night conversations and sleepovers in, the place where you had done more for sana than chris did. your eyes land on the two strips of laminated paper that hold the memory of the time you two had gone to the photobooth on your sixteenth birthday, your brows crease at the sight of your cheeks squished with sana’s as the two of you posed. a heavy breath makes your lungs shrink as you exhale. 

“i can’t let you do this, not for him sana.” 

“but i love him so much y/n, you know this. he promised we could stay in an apartment together and that everything would be perfect, we have a whole future planned and i—” 

“what about us sana?” you cut her off, voice breaking slightly. “what about our future? we promised that we’d go to that uni together, what happened to that? you’re going to throw it away for him?” 

“you’re being ridiculous y/n, we were thirteen! things change and you need to grow up, look—”  

“we’ve known each other since elementary school and you’re throwing away this opportunity for a guy whose grades are falling apart. not only that, he’s a fucking ass! you’ve come crying and complaining to me more times than i can count on my left hand.” you respond angrily, and much louder than you meant to. 

sana looks at you in disbelief, her expression almost carrying some sort of disappointment or disgust. she scoffs and you feel your heart shatter just from hearing it, this isn’t like her at all. 

“if you were so fucking annoyed by my misery then you could’ve told me,” she responds harshly, water lining her eyes.  

“sana that’s not what i—" 

“you’re supposed to be my best friend, always there for me and to support me. now look at you, what happened to that? can’t you be happy for me and chris? i seriously love him and all you’ve been is mopey and bitchy whenever he’s around.” 

“i know more people that have treated you better than him. he’s an asshole sana, it’s clear as day and even dahyun agrees.” 

her eyes meet the floor and she says in a smaller voice, “i love him y/n, and he loves me.” 

not like i love you, never will he love you like that. 

your features soften as you look at her. “sana you can’t—” 

“get out of my room.” sana spits in a stinging tone that’s worse than a dagger to your heart. she shakes her head then turns to avoid your gaze and your heart completely shatters as you watch a tear slide down her cheek in the process. “get out of my house, i don’t want to hear it.” 

“sana,” you begin, but when you hear her sniffle, you hold back everything that’s burning in your chest. your shoulders give up and sink in defeat before you croak out an “okay.” 

turning around, you step out of her bedroom with a heavy heart and trembling lips. tears stream down your cheeks as you make your way out of the house where sana and you had spent countless hours together—hours that you’d never forget no matter how hard you tried. 

- 

each breath you take is visible in the cold air and snow compresses with each step you take whilst hanging up the christmas lights. your mother smiles once you pin the last string up and  then you take a step back to admire the illuminating pattern of diverse hues beaming when your mom presses the “on” button. 

“thank you again honey, i appreciate it.” your mom says, holding your hand and squeezing it gently.  

you turn and smile at her, shaking your head before responding, “anytime mom.” 

the two of you enter the house again and immediately you’re on your way back to the kitchen to finish up your famous cookies. you three different types of cookies: chocolate chip cookies (the fastest batch to be eaten), matcha cookies with white chocolate chips, and ube cookies—sana’s favorites. 

-- 

“ube? what’s that?” sana says, giggling softly as you hand her a purple cookie with white chocolate chunks.  

“just try it sana, you’ll love it.” you assure, urging her to try. “it’s purple too, how could you not?” 

she rolls her eyes at you then picks up the sweet treat, taking a bite of the cookie. it’s crunchy on the outside and perfectly soft on the inside, making her shoulders sink down and eyes close when the new, thrilling flavor meets her tastebuds. 

“so, how is it?” you ask, raising your brows. sana simply smiles and nods, shooting a dorky thumbs up before taking another bite. 

“it’s wonderful, it’s like coconut and nutty and has vanilla and oh my gosh it’s so… it’s really good.” she sighs, melting as she consumes your baked good. she looks adorable. 

you laugh at her response and take a bite of your own experiment, eyes widening at how good they were. sana was right, they’re wonderful. 

-- 

“ah the purple cookies, those were a hit ever since you started making them.” your mom says, rubbing your back. she looks at you with some pity, knowing about your little falling out with sana. 

you simply smile and nod. “i like them, i was going to save some for myself too.” you joke, easing some tension in the air. 

“well, i’m going to call your dad up, go visit the kim’s later and tell them i said hi.” your mom insists, placing a twenty dollar bill on the marble counter. “heard they have a holiday latte out, you should try it. dahyun’s also been experimenting with her baking and beverages, she gets better each time i visit.” 

“of course she is,” you chuckle lightheartedly, “let me just finish these last cookies and i’ll put them in the fridge for a bit. did you want anything from their place?” 

“no, it’s fine. oh wait! i have a present for dahyun’s mom, can you give her this if she’s there?” she asks. 

“mhm,” you hum,  “just put it near my bag on the couch.” 

“thanks sweetie, i’ll do that.” your mother beams, then rushes towards her room to grab whatever it was that she needed. 

-- 

ring  

the sound of the bell chimes throughout the café—which is not too busy other than the elderly group in the corner and a student typing away at their computer to the side. you catch sight of the familiar face, instantly grinning when you walk towards the register. 

dahyun is turned away from you and cleaning the espresso machine, wiping it down and yelling a “welcome! feel free to check out the holiday pastries and beverages!” without turning towards you. 

you laugh and speak up, “it’s nice to see you miss know-it-all.” and upon hearing your voice dahyun instantly turns around, beaming a bright grin and setting her rag down. 

“y/n? you didn’t tell me you were in town? what the hell where were you last year?” she questions, walking out from behind the counter and then towards you to greet you with a warm hug. she smells like coffee grinds and cinnamon, you hug her back and smile. 

“i was deathly sick last year, like seriously fighting for my life. i didn’t tell you?” 

“no stupid, you didn’t.” she sighs, then pulls away to look at you. “i’ve only seen your instagram posts, haven’t seen you in a bit and wow… you look better than in the pictures.” 

“thank you?” you giggle before she walks over to return back behind the register. “i’ve also seen your instagram… who’s that girl you’ve been posting? got a girl and didn’t fill me in with the details?” you pry, smirking cheekily. 

“oh, tzu… gosh y/n we have so much to talk about, i’m glad you’re back in town.” dahyun says appreciatively, and you don’t miss the slight pink that dusts on her cheeks before she starts again, “let’s talk over some coffee. what can i get you? on the house by the way. we have like, thirty minutes before a bunch of people start piling in.” 

a giggle leaves your lips again before you decide on a peppermint mocha. dahyun gets to work and weighs out the coffee grins as you situate yourself to the side, watching her work her magic. 

the two of you catch up on what’s been going on with college, dahyun’s love life that you’ve missed out on, and what you’ve been up to yourself. twenty minutes pass and you’ve both ended up on some old memory that has the two of you laughing like idiots again, making both your stomachs hurt. 

“so… we’ve talked about what’s been going on with me… what about you and your love life? bet you’ve met a girl too.” dahyun interrogates with a teasing tone.  

“oh, well—” you begin, awkwardly staring at the cup in your hand. “i dated this girl for a while, but we ended up falling out and staying friends, nothing much… we just weren’t right for each other.” 

“i see…” dahyun responds, holding herself back from bringing up the sensitive topic—or, well, person.  

dahyun was aware of the falling out as well, but still stayed friends with sana. however, she was your friend before she met sana, so she had made sure if it was alright to keep contact and whatnot. of course you didn’t want your own personal problems to get in between other friendships, and you still loved sana despite everything that had happened so you gave dahyun the green light.  

after running to dahyun the same night of the argument with sana, you cried for an hour or two in her room. this was the first time you turned to someone other than sana, and dahyun had been on your side of the whole situation, making it easier to comfort and reassure you. she also disliked chris, but not as much as she liked you. 

she pretty much agreed with everything you had ranted about and thought it was stupid that sana would rather choose that asshole over someone like you, and later on you’d confess that you were in love with sana to dahyun. when everything had been rocky with sana, dahyun had been by your side, and you were grateful for that. 

“well, maybe you’ll land yourself a kiss under the mistletoe, who knows who’ll be showing up to your christmas party.” dahyun nudges you, smiling as she hands you some peppermint chocolate bark treat. “i could always set you up~” 

“it’s fine, really.” you guarantee. a smile spreads across your face and you dismiss her offer with a wave of your hand. “um, by the way… has um, has she stopped by or anything like that recently? does sana still visit—" 

there’s another ring from the door opening that cuts you off, making dahyun’s attention redirect towards the customer walking in. her eyes widen and she pauses in place before smiling awkwardly, then she mumbles an uneasy “um, be back…” before walking over to the register. 

you don’t think much of her weird mood shift and instead swirl around the small remainder of coffee in the latte cup. 

“hi dahyun! it’s nice to see you again.” a voice beams.  

you freeze in place, all of your body tensing up as soon as the familiar voice processes through your ears. it’s smooth, it’s sweet, and it has that same high-pitched ring and giggle that follows. immediately, your heartbeat spikes and you’re doing anything you can to avoid interacting or even looking in the woman’s direction. 

“it’s nice to see you too sana,” dahyun greets with a bubbly tone. the name being uttered from dahyun’s mouth is enough to make your hands grip the cup in your hand a little tighter. “can i get you anything?”  

“hm… i’ll have that peppermint mocha please. i’m also going to take a look around the bakery, i need to grab some treats for others. you know how it is, holidays and whatnot.” sana says in that adorable tone, it has you falling for her all over again just when you thought you’d gotten over everything that’s happened. 

quickly, you finish the last sip of your coffee before setting the empty cup down abruptly. it makes a small yet noticeable sound with the glass plate it had been sitting on, making sana advert her gaze.  

the small gift you had set down beside you is now placed on the glass that covers the display of christmas themed cakes. dahyun looks at you in confusion and tilts her head before you turn to smile at her, avoiding sana’s widening eyes. 

“thanks for the coffee dahyun, take the present on the glass to your mom—it’s from my mom to yours.” you start, trying to keep your voice level 

every ounce of restraint and discipline is fighting back the urge to simply glance at sana, who’s standing right in front of dahyun. you almost manage to avoid her, but it’s inevitable, your eyes land on your first love for the first time in almost two years. 

she’s looking at you with parted lips and surprise, but she still looks as beautiful as you remember. sana looks a little more mature than when you last saw her; the curve of her jaw is sharper, lips somehow brighter and her features are more defined overall. sana is wearing a scarf that fits around her neck comfortably, a brown, fluffy sweater, and dark sweatpants with uggs to compliment the outfit. there’s simplicity in her look—she’s jaw dropping, the sight of her makes your jaw tighten and heartbeat spike.  

her eyes meet yours for exactly three seconds, enough time to have every memory flowing in. 

clearing your throat, you finish your farewell to dahyun with a smile, “i’ll see you around, my mom says hi to your mom, tell her i also said hi too. i’ll get going now, have a good one.” 

your body doesn’t fight back the urge to glance at sana again—big mistake—before turning around and walking out the door. 

sana keeps her look on you the whole time, baffled to see you here and her own heart yearns for you. she’s missed you more than you’d ever know, and more than she’d like to admit. it doesn’t help her case that you’re ten times more attractive than when she’d last seen you at graduation. 

“you should talk to her.” dahyun says softly. sana keeps her eye on the door, you’re already out and probably in your car, but she keeps her eye on the door still. 

“were you talking to her earlier?” sana asks, now turning to face the younger woman. 

“we were catching up.” dahyun answers. the woman behind the register turns around to start making sana’s drink, unknowingly the same drink you had ordered. it all makes dahyun’s own heart sink in her chest a bit. “how long has it been since you’ve talked to her?” 

“since graduation.” sana explains, looking down at the counter. “i messed up.” 

dahyun turns around again to see sana, sorrow and regret etching into her features. the barista frows and reaches over to place her hand on sana’s shoulder, then rubs it gently.  

“talk to her, there’s always time to fix things. especially with y/n.” 

-- 

a few days past since that meeting, you’re still shaken up from it to say the least.  

sana is too, but you aren’t aware of that. 

to stray away from this event that is dreadfully close to leading to some form of existential crisis or spiral, you’re helping your mom out with setting up the last few decorations and tables while your cookies that you chilled a couple days ago bake.  

dahyun is also coming over with her girlfriend in the evening to exchange a couple of greetings and to properly introduce her girlfriend tzuyu to you. your mother had met tzuyu before and talked highly about her, so you were excited to meet her yourself.  

when the time comes, you hear a knock at the door and shoot up to answer it. you open the door and dahyun stands there with a nervous grin on her face. next to her stands tzuyu—and sana.  

your eyes widen and your jaw tenses when you see her perfect face, standing next to tzuyu with this awkward smile. she’s wearing a gray pullover and black sweatpants; an orange scarf also wraps around her neck comfortably. she looks snug and cute as ever, no matter what she’s adorable in your eyes. your heart flutters and you get all nervous like a teenager again. 

pushing away the edginess flowing throughout your whole being, you greet dahyun with a warm hug, then give tzuyu and friendly one as well. you’re not sure how to greet sana, being all shaken up by just her presence, so you resort to a smile and a small “hi sana,” then invite them all in. 

sana walks in and her hand brushes against your arm on accident, the two of you definitely notice it—though you both decide to ignore it and the warmth in your chests.  

your mom greets all the girls with a hug and the five of you sit down in your homey living room. sana sits across from you on the couch next to your mom, and you sit there avoiding eye contact as you all catch up. 

an hour passes by and dahyun is over in the living room talking to your mom about what’s been going on with her parents and the bakery. in the meantime, you decide to give yourself a break from feeling all nervous just by being near sana. 

standing up, you announce, “i’m going to the kitchen for a bit.” your mom simply raises her brows at your sudden departure, you’ve been silent for most of the conversation and it seems like you’re the only one affected by the tension in the room. “won’t be long.” you add, smiling weakly. 

the fridge is still full of some essentials, and to the side, there’s some cold brew and your favorite coconut milk; everything you need is right where you need it. you head over to the counter and grab your favorite glass cup, heart stinging at the memory of when you had received it. it was one of the many gifts from sana. 

you grab some ice and put it in the cup, then add your cold brew inside. then you grab a small cup with some honey and search for a spoon so you can mix it in with the coconut milk. 

“drinking coffee at this time?” a voice says, making you freeze. you break out of your short trance and hum in response before continuing to make your drink. 

“you know i can’t resist a good coffee, sana.” and the way her name slips off your tongue feels right. you haven’t said it often since the falling out and it still rolls off perfectly, it feels right coming from you. you’re hesitant to talk again, feeling her eyes drill into your back. something in your heart shifts and you manage to ask, “did you want something to drink?” 

“yeah,” she answers, walking over to you and sitting at the kitchen island. “same thing you’re drinking, but sweeter.” 

of course she wants it sweet, just like always.  

“okay.”  

your back is still turned towards sana and she watches you grab another glass. as you do so, she gets a glimpse of your own glass and smiles. “is that the cup i got you?”  

still fixing up her drink, you nod and answer, “yeah. it’s my favorite.” 

“a lot of your gifts are my favorites too.” she admits, her voice so soft and fragile that you’re scared the thick tension in the air might break it. 

sana watches you turn around, but you still avoid her gaze. you place both cups on the surface of the kitchen island and begin to pour the coconut milk mixtures into the coffee. the liquids swirl as they combine, creating a satisfying view. sana’s quick to redirect her attention back to you, staring at your face again. 

last time she had saw you at dahyun’s cafe, she only had the chance to get a simple glance at your features, not enough time to fully take in everything that’s changed about your apperance. there’s two new piercings on both ears and a new, small tattoo below your ear; the length of your hair is also noticeably longer. your lips part as you swirl both cups in your hands around, and then you take a quick glance to the side, allowing sana to admire your side profile and the unique curve of your nose and lips. 

you hold the mug out for her and finally meet her eyes again. sana’s favorite thing about you were your eyes, they’re still as pretty as she remembers.  

- 

it’s some thursday night during your sophomore year of high school, you were supposed to be studying with sana for your math quiz tomorrow, but she had other ideas.  

“stay still,” sana mumbles softly. 

she situates you in the chair near her desk and tilts your head up with the fingers holding your chin. she’s inches away from you as she puts some sort of sponge on your face, brows creasing as she does so. your heart is racing. 

after a couple of minutes, sana finishes up your makeup. she’s done some type of natural look on you, nothing too heavy or bold. you look at yourself through the mirror and take a moment to examine sana’s doings. as you do so, sana can’t keep her eyes off you. 

something in her heart shifts as she admires you. her eyes land on your lips, they’re oddly alluring, and sana’s cheeks burn. 

“sana you’re staring… do i look weird?” 

“no,” she practically breathes out, mouth slightly agape. “you’re beautiful.” she says breathlessly, her expression turning all serious it makes you giggle awkwardly. 

there have been many moments where sana has found you pretty, not just physically. your small gifts and reassurance have made her heart flutter, but she’s always figured that was just because she loved you deeply as a friend. but when you stare at her with those eyes in this moment, she’s so surprised by everything she feels. she's giddy and happy and warm inside and gosh her heart wants to jump out her chest and cling onto you. she's not opposed to the feeling; she always has this feeling aorunf you and she loves it. that's why she’s always around you in the first place. 

her face burns and you’re gazing at her all confused, you look so cute. 

growing nervous from how non-verbal sana has been, you try to shake her out of her trance. “hey, you’re scaring me. earth to sana? hellooooo…?” 

“how are you so pretty all the time.” sana’s eyes soften and her whole body relaxes as she rests her head on her palm. “like, your face is so perfect and your eyes… god y/n, whoever gets to be with you would be so lucky, seriously. like, you’re honestly the prettiest girl in our school, how do you not have a boyfriend?” 

your cheeks flush from the abrupt compliment, so you push her gently and giggle. sana giggles along with you, still star-struck. you’re both young and unknowingly in love with each other—giggles and teasing seem to be the only way to hide that. 

- 

sana has always found you attractive, after all these years she still hasn’t figured out why she made the mistake of pursuing chris instead of the person who was always there for her—and ten times prettier. you’ve always been right there, she’s a fool for looking right past you. 

sana grabs the mug, still making eye contact with you and both your eyes soften at the same time. 

“y/n i’m sorry.” she says immediately, “i messed up really bad and—” 

“sana,” you cut her off, “just enjoy the drink.” she watches you smile at her, it’s genuine and small, still enough to calm her nerves. you grab your glass and walk towards the door to the porch, tilting your head and urging her to come follow. sana figures she could pour her heart out later, if it were on the porch it wouldn’t be the first time she’s poured out her emotions there.  

the two of you find a seat across from each other, the fairy lights above create some type of ambiance to ease the tension that’s hanging in the air like an invisible cloak of some sort, suffocating the two of you with its unease. 

“how have you been?” sana asks. it’s cliché, but what else was she supposed to say?  

you don’t look up from the drink in your hand when you respond, “good, you?”  

“likewise.” sana lies, her jaw clenching.  

“you know,” you begin, and with intent, your eyes meet her face and she’s doing the same as you had been doing before; she simply sits there with the drink in her hand, looking quite on edge. “i figured if i were to see you again like this, chris would be with you.”  

“we broke up three months after we moved in together.” sana says quietly, “i broke up with him.” 

“sana…” you mumble quietly, surprised to say the least. “why— what?” 

“i ruined everything between you and i because i was so blinded by his affection, i couldn’t stay with him anymore with guilt clawing at me.” she explains, her voice breaking slightly. “and i couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after hurting you. losing you was the biggest mistake of my life. god, it took everything in me to come back to you.” 

“you never lost me sana,”  

“i’m just… sorry for everything, i really am.” she says sincerely, “and i don’t think enough words could really explain how sorry i am.” 

you look at her with pity, and despite her coldness towards you during the last semester of your senior year, you decide to let everything go. she’s your best friend after all, you promised yourself to be there. 

“it’s okay.” you say, it’s not the truth, but it’s not a lie either. “it was my fault too for letting the distance between us get larger.” 

“don’t say that, it’s not your fault.” sana sighs. she takes a sip of the coffee, it’s good, of course— everything you’ve ever made for her has been great. “i only stayed with chris because i was scared. that’s why it was so easy for me to leave everyone i loved behind, i think.” 

“scared? …of what?” 

she looks dead into your eyes and exhales, “i realized that, that maybe i was with chris because i was trying to push down how i felt about you.” 

you tilt your head in confusion, then begin to pry, “sana what do you mean—" 

“y/n, i was falling for you and it terrified me. i mean, i loved you, and honestly, i think i still do. i'm so fucking dumb, god i'm just oblivious.” sana says, then immediately, your heart rate spikes and your brows raise. she continues while fidgeting with her fingers, “i guess it’s easier to admit now because we’ve grown distant, and physically we’re distant enough. chris treated me alright and loved me, but i came crying to you all the time because he never treated me like how i wanted you to treat me, i don’t know why i did that. i don’t know why i let myself go through that when i had you. every time i’d kiss him i wished it were you, every time we did anything honestly.” 

sana's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, their glossy shine failing to hide the immense emotions she was desperately trying to suppress. the weight of her confession hung in the air, causing the entire world to momentarily freeze. it felt as though time itself had paused, giving you a moment to absorb the magnitude of her words. 

sana loved you, and she still does. you loved her, and you still do.  

but really, you can’t. you can’t go through with this. it’s too sudden, so unorganized and uncertain. 

all of this is a recipe for disaster. 

the echo of her vulnerability reverberated through the atmosphere, your mind spun in a cyclone of emotions. thoughts collided and collided again like football players during some game, leaving your head in a dizzying state of confusion, the sheer intensity of it all was jarring, leaving you all disoriented. the feelings you suppressed were finding their way back out, and you found yourself teetering on the precipice of vulnerability once again, just as you did years ago. 

finding out that sana loved you still gave you hope, but the revelation also made you uneasy. it had been too long without sana, and so much had happened, so there was the chance that things would be all rocky. besides, it’s just too sudden. 

“i’m— sorry for dumping all of this, i just wanted to give you closure because… well, i should’ve given you it years ago.” a tear streams down her eye as she says this, and then she begins to stand. “i should leave, i’m sorry for not letting you know i was coming— god i’m so sorry.” 

“sana wait—” you start, grabbing her wrist. she looks into your eyes, her’s are still glossy. you decide it’s better to let her go for now, unsure if this is the last time you’ll see her after this—hopefully not. “it’s okay, just… be careful. you know i’m always here, always sha.” 

the nickname that you made up for her makes her heart crack a little, she can only smile back at you for now. 

— 

the conversation between dahyun, tzuyu, and your mom is interrupted when dahyun catches the sight of sana pulling her scarf off the hook and wrapping it around her neck again. she takes account of the slight flush of her nose and cheeks, as well as her water-lined eyes. 

“you’re leaving?” dahyun asks, concern clear in her tone. sana simply smiles and nods, “yeah, i’ll see you at the holiday party. it was nice seeing you too miss l/n, i missed all of this.” 

“you’re always welcome honey,” your mother assures, “where’s y/n?” 

“out on the porch, she said she’ll be back in a bit. i’ll see you all, thank you.” sana says before departing, leaving the three women in the living room perplexed. 

a few minutes later whilst the three in the living room conjure up theories of what had happened while you and sana had been gone—you appear with a blank expression. you sit down next to your mom and lean against her, not saying a word. 

tzuyu (who is only briefly caught up with whatever had happened between you and sana, and she deinfitely needs a thorough presentation on your history) looks at dahyun and tilts her head, dahyun simply shakes her own head. 

“sana and i talked a bit, resolved and made things clear.” you say, answering the elephant in the room. “i’m heading up, i’m getting sleepy and i want to have some energy for the party tomorrow.” you add. “it was nice getting to know you tzuyu, you’re perfect for the idiot beside you. night everyone.” chuckling quietly in between responses. 

and with that you’re walking up the stairs to your room, leaving your mom, tzuyu, and dahyun perplexed yet again. 

- 

december 25th, five o’clock pm. 

you're greeting guests, various familiar faces and their parents, family friends, and whoever else you mom managed to fit on the list. 

the party is lively, with people scattered in the backyard and on the little porch while your dad grills his signature bbq meats. your mom laughs with her friends as she sips on her wine, moving her hands around as she talks to emphasize her little life updates. 

in the basement with you are your old high school friends: momo, her cousin mina, jaehyun, mark, johnny, seulgi, sooyoung, jeongyeon, and dahyun, who’s accompanied by tzuyu. the rest of your frineds couldn’t make it, they were probably out of town. all of them sit on the floor or couch with a can of smirnoff or soda, all chatting and laughing over old memories. 

you lean against jaehyun as you laugh, letting yourself hide behind his shoulder while mark ruthlessly brings up each embarrassing phase you’ve had. what a guy, a guy you’ll be figthing soon if he keeps this up. 

the feeling of your phone ringing against your palm as you hold it catches your attention, directing you from the conversation at hand. the screen shows a call from “mom♡” which earns a confused look. you answer the call, cupping the phone so you can hear her better as you answer. 

“hello? did you need something?” 

“hey honey, would you mind coming out for a bit? someone wants to see you.” 

“someone?” you ask, “one of your friends or...?” 

“just come on out sweetie.” she insistts. 

“okay okay, whatever you say.” you respond before ending the call and starting to get up. jaehyun looks up at you with a quirked brow as he sips on his drink. you look back and shrug, “my mom wants me to meet ‘someone,’ probably one of her friends or something. i won’t be long.” you respond to him and let the others know. 

"alright, take your time," jaehyun says with a nod, setting his drink down. "hopefully, it won't be too boring," he adds with a small smirk, teasing you gently. you roll your eyes playfully in response before grabbing your jacket and heading towards the sliding door.  

you were right about the guess on seeing your mom's friend, or—friends. however, the sudden chill you get when seeing the minatozaki’s on the porch makes you tense up.  

they're standing there, glasses of wine in their hands as they look at you. sana's mom has a smile on her face, so does her dad. you walk up to them and try to shake off your nerves, fully hugging sana’s mom and giving sana’s dad a side hug. 

“it’s been a while hasn’t it?” sana’s mom says, putting her hand on your shoulder and grinning. “it’s wonderful to see you again.” 

“likewise.” you respond, melting into relaxation the more you get used to this atmosphere. “how have you all been?” 

after a tense reunion with sana’s parents, they find out about your ambitions and what you’ve been up to. not much is mentioned about the falling out between you and their daughter, but the thought most definitely lingers in the cold, winter air.  

sana's parents tell you about an internship she earned at a hospital her first year, saying they’re proud of her for helping others and the bonus of the nice paycheck that came with the experience. they tell you she’s found herself a guaranteed transfer to your school and that she’s excited to help even more people in the nursing program. it sounds like sana’s a great person, she’s always wanted to help others, it makes you smile and nod as her parents update you on what she’s been up to. 

but there’s this feeling of uncertainty and sorrow brewing. the fact that you have to hear about sana from anyone but her breaks you a bit, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t hesitate to update each other back then. now, it seems like you’re missing a chunk of memories that you could’ve shared with sana. 

“we asked her to come to the party.” mr. minatozaki says, looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “she said she’d consider it.” 

“oh, i see.” you respond, nodding whilst looking at the ground.  

part of you is glad that she’s not here, but who are you kidding, there would never be a time where you’d be dissapointed to catch her near you, despite the paranoia taking over. 

“well, it’s nice to catch up y/n. we've missed you, it’s great to see how well you’re doing. your parents must be proud.” mr. minatozaki concludes, looking at you with admiration. 

“yeah, thanks.” you say, “well, i'll leave you to talk to my parents, but i'll stop by again to talk to you two. it's really nice to catch up, i've missed you guys too, and your wonderful dinners.” you add jokingly, earning a laugh from the couple. 

sana's mom kisses your temple and hugs you, then lets you walk back into the house. 

it seems like this whole night has been full of surprises—scratch that, at this point, everything is a surprise ever since you've been back in town. especially now, because once you step into the kitchen, there’s a familiar woman who’s making your knees weak all over again. 

“y/n, hey.” sana greets softly, smiling at you. 

she's just hung up her scarf on the little hook near the fridge, the same place she’d always hang it back then. there was this unspoken rule that when sana was here, there were certain spaces that belonged to her; the hook near the fridge, the chair at the dining table closest to the living room, the right side of your bed, and the left side of the couch in the basement.  

still, you’re pissed at the fact she had practically cut you off completely over a boy just to come back years later to win you back. it irritated you how easy it was for sana to convince you, but you were much angrier at the thought of her coming back to see you because her and chris didn’t work out. was she serious about the breakup? was that all it took to forget that she had caused so much mental turmoil? 

despite this, her being in your house again and seeing her at this christmas party like years before; everything reminds you of the fact that sana had always lingered in your home. 

“hey, didn’t think you’d make it.” you respond, watching her shrug. 

“my parents said your signature cookies are here, i had to.” 

can't be the only reason, you want to mumble, but your lips stay sealed. 

sana speaks again, “i stole a couple, ate some earlier actually. still as great as i remembered.” 

“thanks.” you mutter, walking over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “did you want to talk about something?” 

“what do you mean?” 

“there’s a reason you came, and i know it’s for me since you’re not in the basement with everyone else. we both know that’s the signature spot.” 

sana cringes at your tone, but gives in. 

“i just wanted to see you, and hopefully talk to you normally.” 

it's taking everything in you to hold your ground, to protect yourself from this sudden appearance that’s making you all uneasy again. you can’t let sana screw you up again with a simple visit, you can’t. 

“i know you’re sorry but sana, you treated me so terribly. do you know how much i cried? how fucking terrible i felt after losing my friend of years to chris?” you seethe, sighing. “part of me wants to start over, maybe try again—but how can i do that when there’s the chance of you throwing away everything, we rebuild over another stupid fucking guy.” 

she looks at you with guilt in her eyes, her shoulders sinking and words jumbling in her throat.  

“y/n, nothing—no one, despite what i've done to you, will ever make me forget how much i love you. there's always a space in my heart for you.” 

you scoff, anger flowing throughout you now, then walk over to her. she stands against the frame of the entrance, you stand in front of her now, looking down slightly. sana's looking at you directly in the eye, you can see the hurt and regret in her eyes; her look brings you back to your senses. 

“how do i know you’re not bluffing? sana, every ounce of me wants to redo this.” your voice cracks slightly, the hurt evident in your tone.  

“you just have to trust me, i'm sorry, i'm really sorry.” 

you feel like curling up into a ball and hiding, the way your chest tightens makes you want to cry a bit. 

- 

the party ends around one in the morning, considering the fact that some of the attendants are adults that don’t have the energy to party until the sunrises.  

jaehyun’s just crossed the line, now slurring his words and laughing stupidly while he gets touchy with the guys, so mark ends up driving him home. johnny catches a ride with seulgi and sooyoung. with them gone, you’re in the basement with momo, mina, dahyun, and tzuyu. all five of you end the night with some recollections of memories, momo’s recent date, mina’s annoying professor, and before you know it you all are hugging goodbye. 

you've already gone through three cans of the smirnoff cans, it hadn’t done much except make you a little more giggly and talkative. you were a little tipsy, that was all. 

throughout the night, tzuyu and dahyun exchange glances, their eyes meeting repeatedly, dahyuns hand rubbing tzuyu’s thigh, and the little smiles they give each other. all of it doesn’t go unnoticed – at least by you – and hints at the potential for something you don’t want to think of in detail once they return home.  

as you observe their subtle interactions, a pang of envy stirs within you, longing for that same allure and anticipation. amidst the swirling emotions, a sense of emptiness creeps in, amplified by the beers you’ve had. you're left to ponder on what’s making you feel hollow, still feeling bad after raising your voice at sana earlier. 

you can’t feel bad, you shouldn’t. whatever you did wasn’t comparable to her practically pretending you didn’t exist for almost two years. 

after rolling your eyes and saying some stupid joke to dahyun and tzuyu – the last to leave the house – you head back to the basement.  

of course, sana had to be sitting on the couch, head turned towards the tv as she sipped on a beer.  

“hey.” you mutter, earning her attention as she turns away from the christmas movie you paused earlier. 

“hi.” sana greets. 

every ounce of anger, irritation, and dread had been squeezed out your body at the sight of her. you genuinely think it’s the alcohol that’s making you rethink everything, making it hard to fight back that voice in your head that’s trying to stay reserved and petty. 

sana sits there, her gaze fixed on you with intensity. her glasses are perched on her nose, a familiar sight whenever she's engrossed in watching tv or anything like that. the sight only adds to her charm, making her look even more adorable. you can't help but notice her favorite cardigan draped over her shoulders – the fluffy, white knit cardigan she adores so much –it's a cherished gift from your mother, and she's held onto it all these years. her eyes bore into yours, drilling into your skull and compelling you to plop down beside her as if nothing had ever transpired between you. you surrender, maybe it’s the late hours of the night, maybe the beer, o rmaybe just sana. 

(it’s probably just sana.) 

she turns back to the movie playing, some stupid romcom jaehyun had put on as background noise. 

your eyes trace the curve of her nose, lingering on her lips and the impeccable contour of her jawline as she remains fixated on the tv screen. her side profile captivates you for a moment, holding you in some sort of spell until she breaks the silence with her soft voice. 

“i think our parents are playing card games in the kitchen.”  

“probably betting money too.” 

“remember when your dad took your christmas money for their game?” sana asks, giggling at the memory. her eyes are still fixed on the screen, you decide to tune into the movie too. “didn’t he lose too?” 

“yeah.” you sigh, sinking into the couch. “he paid me back double the next day though.” 

“so it was worth it?” 

“yeah, i think we went out to eat with that money.” 

sana turns to gaze at you, her eyes tracing the soft contours of your profile in the dimly lit room. the glow from the tv accentuates her favorite features of yours, and she finds herself lost in the sight before her. for a while, she simply stares, allowing the comfortable silence to envelop the moment.  

you turn to look at her now, you two just stare at each other for a while more. 

“maybe we can try again.” you mumble, giving into the beauty in front of you. “every part of me is against the idea.” 

“that’s understandable.” sana agrees. she sighs before adding, “you don’t have to try again.” 

“i know.” you assure, “but i think we should.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

“i know, sana.”  

as the music from the tv fills the room, silence once again settles between you and sana. you know that you can't let this opportunity slip away – it's everything you've wanted, and deep down, you realize it's everything you've needed too.  

there's a mistletoe that’s hung above the two of you, it’s been there the whole time, both of you were aware of it. it dangles from the light tantalizingly, but neither of you do anything about it. neither you or sana even mention it. your mind races to the memory of dahyun and tzuyu kissing each other under it and part of you wants to kiss sana like that, but you won’t let her kiss and make up. 

you reach out, your fingers gently intertwining with hers. you lift her hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of her skin against your own. softly, you press a kiss upon the back of her hand, you linger in the intimacy of the gesture. 

the two of you sit there for a moment, letting the world around you two fade away. 

everything about the moment renders you weak. you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, a second chance is enough to patch things up. if it’s with sana, then maybe it’s worth it. 

[mothiir]

duty performed

I wrote this in half an hour and will be taking no notes. @the-raven-lady owns most of Elias, Isaiah owns the rest. For more stories of these two - not together - see our blogs. If you haven’t seen them before Isaiah is a primaris Black Templar and Elias is an ancient former night lord who is chilling with the Templars for reasons

cw for blood, grossness, and Elias enjoying his food too much

—

—

“Brother,” Isaiah says, patiently. “Please may you remove your teeth from my pectoral? I cannot thrust to your liking while you are attached there.”

Elias’ only response is to chew, his jagged teeth scything through Isaiah’s flesh — the only sign of the considerable effort it takes to do so is the tendons twitching in the older Marine’s jaw. It hurts, but not terribly so. Besides, any wound suffered in service to your battle brothers is a badge to be worn with pride.

Isaiah sighs, and readjusts himself minutely. The fact that the bunk is still intact is testament to the architectural skills of the grandsons of Dorn, given what the two Astartes have been up to for the best part of an hour. 

Of course, the cessation of movement prompts an irritable, burbling snarl from Elias.

“I cannot do both.” Elias has buried his face into Isaiah’s chest, dropping his legs off Isaiah’s shoulders to do so, and thus Isaiah cannot penetrate him as deeply as he demands. ”Bite elsewhere.”

Elias grumbles something into Isaiah’s flesh, gnawing deeper. Isaiah’s brow furrows — not with pain, but concern.

”Brother, are you receiving proper rations? I understand that biting is often sexual in nature, but your continued attempts to consume parts of me has me worrying that your calorific needs are not being met.”

He goes to pinch at Elias’s hip, gratified to find a slight pudge of fat there, nestled over broad, sharp bones. Elias snarls protest, clawing down Isaiah’s back, opening up gouges that start to heal almost before they have a chance to bleed. With a frustrated, strangled growl, Elias claws again — deeper this time, sticking his fingers under Isaiah’s skin, as though Isaiah is a beast to be stripped of its hide. 

It feels unusual. Not terribly pleasant, but Isaiah simply turns his thoughts from the sensation, focusing on the way Elias’s breathing shifts a little as Isaiah hooks his hands under Elias’s knees, lifting them higher.

”There — is that angle to your liking?”

The only response he receives is the obscene sound of Elias chewing at his pectoral — the wet, sloppy sounds of the former Night Lord beginning to drink. 

Isaiah readjusts himself. He knows what he is aiming for — it is here somewhere —

There.

Elias burbles a strange mess of sound, part wail, part squeal — all abruptly cut off as he bites Isaiah afresh, as though by removing a chunk of Isaiah’s body he can exorcise the memory of that noise. Isaiah does not chuckle, for this is a serious matter, but he cannot help a smile.

”Yes — I knew you would like that.”

“Hmmmmggggfff,” Elias manages, his eyes black and empty as the void between stars, his pale flesh streaked with Isaiahs’ blood. His hands scrabble at Isaiah’s back, fingers trying to prise inside the wounds that he had opened up not three heartbeats ago. He utters a querulous sound of dismay when he finds smooth skin. 

“I heal swiftly brother. Apologies,” says Isaiah, his balls slapping against Elias’ buttocks as he picks up the pace. He fucks with the same single-minded intensity that he fights or worships with: there is a goal, and he will achieve it. Nothing will distract him. Each thrust spears into that tender bundle of nerves that has Elias snarling and biting at him, because Isaiah is a Templar, and they always strike their target true.

It’s delightful — Isaiah loves nothing more than being useful to his brothers, in whatever way they need. This is what Elias needs. 

(Isaiah has his own wants, of course, but those must be sublimated to the good of the Legion.)

(If he could he would have his hands around Elias’s throat until those clever dark eyes grew glazed and giddy and his mouth grew slack — or he would chew and bite and Elias heals swiftly but Isaiah is swifter and crueller— put Elias on his hands and knees and —) 

(No. His wants do not matter. One day, he will be Captain, and Marshal thereafter. It is written, and so it shall be, and the role of a leader is to sacrifice all and gain nothing but martyrdom and — )

Elias rips up, and away, tearing loose a mouthful of Isaiah’s flesh, which he promptly chews and swallows, blood between his teeth and streaming down his chin. He forces his mouth up against Isaiah’s — less a kiss, more a heated, drooling mess, as the pair lick at each other’s mouths, teeth clacking together — and when Elias cums it is with a snarl that sounds exactly like Isaiah’s chainsword cutting through bone. Isaiah, his mouth scarlet, his hair a tousled bloody mess, pauses, cock sheathed deep within Elias as cum spatters across their abdomens. 

“Shall I keep going?” he says, and Elias huffs laughter.

”Damn Primaris,” he says, then smacks Isaiah’s thigh, like he would a prize bull. “Get to it.”

He leans back into the bunk, pillowing his head on interlinked fingers. Isaiah hefts his battle brother’s legs up onto his shoulders once more, folding him almost in half as he once more begins to see to his duty. 

[jokertrap-ran]

[Yume100 x Kuroshitsuji Memory Piece] 5★ 夢世界の冬: Winter in the Land of Dreams Translation

The Princes of the Country of Four Seasons invite Sebastian and Ciel to a special tea ceremony in Hourai. As time passes peacefully… What are Ciel’s thoughts on the matter as Oka, Hikage, Kaede, and Toya share their daily life experiences as well as their thoughts on the Princess of Traumere?

*Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut

In the Country of Four Seasons, Hourai.

Bright, warm, sunlight shines down upon the lands, almost as if celebrating the disappearance of the Reanimated Corpses.

Oka: Earl Ciel Phantomhive. I humbly thank you again for saving this Country. I cannot bear to imagine what would've happened if it weren't for your timely intervention.

Toya: We offer you our sincerest thanks. This is but a small token of our appreciation that we've managed to put together on such short notice.

Ciel was going to be heading to the Country of Koubai tomorrow in pursuit of the Reanimated Corpses.

Ciel: No need to thank me. That monster was something that came from my world in the first place.   Ciel: Hence, there was no need to hold this event either.

The mystery of the Reanimated Corpses and a promising lead on how to get home…

Ciel thought that perhaps he could glean some tidbits of useful information by participating in a tea ceremony attended by the influential members of the royal families.

Hikage: It's so warm today that you'd never guess that it's the middle of winter right now! Heck, a swim sounds good!

Kaede: Don't be daft. Although… I suppose idiots can't catch colds.

Hikage: Come again!?   Oka: Both of you! You're before our guests right now! Besides, you should refrain from doing things that bring a smile to Toya’s face…

Toya: Heh, I can't believe you're chiding them again.

The princes’ peaceful day was unfolding before Ciel’s very eyes.

Sebastian: Your tea, Young Master.

Sabastian skillfully slides another cup of tea before the young Earl.

The pleasant aroma of Horai’s renowned high-quality tea wafted in the air, but Ciel's expression remained as sullen as ever.

Hikage: But, man! Your butler’s on a whole other level! What was his name again? Sebastian? 

Hikage: He's crazy strong, and the tea he brews is a delight on the taste buds!

Kadae: Even my attendant was surprised, and wondered just how he managed to make tea taste so good.

Sebastian: I'm humbled to hear that.

Oka: I feel a tad ashamed as the host since my skills pale in comparison to his…

Ciel: Don't take it to heart. He's my butler, and he's simply following orders.

Ciel: …Looks like we've come up empty.

Toya: Is something the matter?

Ciel: No, everything's fine.

Time passed peacefully for a while before Ciel sighed again.

Hikage: Say, is (Y/n) reaching anytime soon?

Oka: One of my attendants informed me earlier that she was having some trouble getting dressed in her kimono.

Kaede: I see. I can already imagine her running around in a panic.

Oka: Hehe, well that certainly does sound like something she'd do.

Toya: Yup. The incident with the Reanimated Corpses was a terrible disaster, but… I'm glad we got to meet her.

Ciel: …

Ciel was still unable to comprehend just how this girl was the one standing at the crux of this world.

An average Jane who was nothing like a princess…  He wouldn't have believed it either if he hadn't witnessed her mysterious powers first-hand.

Ciel: All of you seem to hold the Princess of Traumere in high regard.

Hikage: High regard? Well… I guess. She's amazing!

Ciel: …?

Hikage: No, I mean — (Y/n) usually prioritizes the needs of others over her own all the time!

Oka: Indeed. More often than not, she's the one who ends up getting hurt due to how much she sympathizes with others.

Kaede: You'll never be able to guess just by looking at her, though…

Toya: She was really worried for me back when I was unable to smile…

Oka: That being said, she never fails to show us just how important kindness is.

Hikage: That's right! And that's why everyone smiles whenever they see her!

Ciel: …

Now, Ciel had moved on from his initial astonishment as sparks of irritation began to flicker into life within his heart.

Ciel: No one would ever put themselves out there like that.

People only used others as stepping stones, just like how Ciel was trying to use the Princes for his own gains.

Ciel: No matter how you try to gloss it over with pretty words or looks alike, ultimately, everyone only does things to serve their personal benefits…

Ciel: That's just how people are…

Sebastian: …

Sebastian watched the scene unfold before him with a small smile playing on his lips 

However, the tense atmosphere only lasted a little more than a split second…

Hikage: Yeah, and that's why she's so amazing.

Hikage’s clear voice cuts through the tension, allowing the peaceful atmosphere to trickle in once more.

Ciel: Huh?

Hikage: Because that's just how she is! It's fun to be around her, and she's always there to lend a helping hand if anything does happen!

Oka: Heh, I'm of the same mind as well.

Kaede: She does say it with such innocence after all — how she loves the smiles on the faces of others around her…

Toya: But the same can be said for us too… We want her to keep smiling, always.

Ciel: Like I said, people like that-

Hikage: Rather than that- Hey, Ciel!

Hikage: Why don't we go for a walk? This place boasts some breathtaking scenery! You should take some time to enjoy it since you've come all the way here!

Unable to retort to that and feeling slightly drained, Ciel could only back down.

Ciel: …Sebastian. It's winter now, isn't it?

Sebastian: Yes. It is currently winter in this world and in this country right now.

Ciel: I see … It seems like their world is truly on a different level compared to ours.

Ciel: Hence why their winters are so warm.

Looking at the gentle rays of the sun that trickled down from the heavens, Ciel closed his eyes, smiling ever so slightly.

The END

[inbabylontheywept]

I love your writing. It’s the type of writing that I love bc other than being easy to read, I admire it bc it accomplishes what I struggle with. It uses few words yet conveys across the idea efficiently, vagueness to its benefit.

Have you heard the phrase “I want to distill myself like poets do”? It comes from a tumblr post of someone trying to express the same thing as me rn.

Anyway the other part of what I wanted to say is that I’m autistic, and when I try to write, I always succumb to the urge to add as many details and overexplanations as possible to avoid being misunderstood. You’re autistic too, but your writing shines in doing the opposite, so I was wondering if you struggled with this too, and how you got better, or if your flavor of autism simply doesn’t manifest in this way and this isn’t a problem to you

Unfortunately, I do naturally tend towards condensed formats. So some part of this is just natural for me. If it makes you feel better, I tried several times to make serials while doing HFY and I never succeeded. I've also tried several times to write books, and I always just get kind of stuck. It's one of my big regrets, so if you have any experience in those, I'd love to hear it. Same from anyone else reading this, actually - if you've made the jump from short stories to long form, I'd like to know how you managed.

Still, despite it being a natural thing for me, I can give you three activities that I've done that improved my short story work very much.

First, improv classes. Attending them will help your writing in ways you will not believe, and also, as an autist, that shit's better than OT. My parents signed me up for some in the summer of my fifth grade year, and they were legit life changing. Way less social anxiety, better writing, I could sing their praises all day. If you do one thing on this list, do this.

Second, write poetry. I do not consider myself a poet, but I attend a weekly poetry writing club, and it has noticeably improved my prose. Find one and go. As you get better, try and constrain the poetry you write to things like rhyme and meter. Writing with artificial constraints is amazing for teaching people to be focused and direct.

And if you have room for a third thing, maybe try finding a way to do extemporaneous public speaking besides the improv. I grew up Mormon, which involves absolutely insane amounts of public speaking from an early age, but I also did stuff like that in middle school NAL and high school speech and debate. Those all helped. They were stressful, and not terribly fun, but they did help, and it's a good skill to have.

I love talking shop, so thanks for asking! And just to reiterate my request from before, anyone that's jumped from short stories to novel length works, please, tell me your secrets. Plz.

[misshoneyimhome]

voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir I Simon Benoit 🖋️⚡️

Requested? Yes / No

Summary; The arrival of a new player on the team has drawn your attention, and in your role as a content creator for the Toronto Maple Leafs, you must proceed cautiously to find out whether you've also captured his interest.

I know, I'm terrible with summaries...

Other notes; Babes! We need to put on warnings when your requests introduce me to players with cute accents! 😂 I don't know why, but I've got a soft spot, alright (seriously got sucked down the rabbit hole while watching videos of him😅) 🤍 Anyway, so here is my very first smutty Simon Benoit fic - and I just hope you enjoy it 😊

Tropes & Warnings; sort of secret love; 18+ smut; fingering, protected penetrative sex (p in v);

Words counts; 4.2K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost

・✶ ｡ﾟ

“Strength does not come from physical capacity - it comes from an indomitable will” - Tattoo on Simon Benoit’s chest.

_

Simon Benoit was nothing short of extraordinary. At least in your opinion.

Being part of the Toronto Maple Leafs community meant you were no stranger to the inner workings of the hockey world and the turmoil it brought every single day. From game nights filled with cheers and adrenaline to quiet moments of support and camaraderie, you'd seen it all from your perspective as a social media content creator.

And when Simon Benoit joined the team for the 23/24 season, he immediately caught your eye.

You weren't entirely sure what it was, yet there was simply something about the Quebecois defenceman that intrigued you from the start. Perhaps it was his effortless grace on the ice or the way his determination shone through every move. Or the way he battled at every opportunity, not accepting when things weren’t right or fair. Regardless of what it was, you found yourself drawn to him in a way that was both exciting and intimidating. His large frame, both in height and in width, made you seem like a small mouse compared to him, even in your heels. Yet his demeanour was nothing but friendly and soothing, which quickly evaporated all the harsh exterior.

But as much as you wanted to get to know Simon better, it wasn't easy, as his focus on his career and athletic performance left little room for anything else. You rarely crossed paths outside of the arena, and when you did, he was usually surrounded by teammates or lost in his own thoughts.

Despite the challenges, you couldn't help but admire his dedication and drive. Watching him on the ice, in the weight room, or on the training field, it was clear that he poured his heart and soul into every game and anything he did, leaving nothing behind but sweat and determination. And while it made getting close to him difficult, it only added to the allure.

Every day, you found yourself stealing glances whenever he was on the ice, marvelling at his skill and tenacity as you captured pictures and videos of the team for the social media platforms. And when the opportunity arose to interact with him, even in passing, you treasured every moment, no matter how fleeting.

Yet deep down, you knew that if you wanted to truly get to know Simon Benoit, you'd have to find a way to break through his walls and connect with him on a deeper level.

It wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing worth having ever was.

_

Navigating the workflow with the Leafs wasn’t always easy, but most of the time you felt like you had it all under control. You knew you were good at your job, and most of the staff members of the company recognised your work and effort.

You weren’t particularly shy by nature, nor were you the most extroverted person. You had your small, close group of friends and occasionally went out. However, your work took much of your time, especially when the managers wanted you to travel with the team, so you didn’t exactly party or live the crazy life in the city. Instead, you kept your life rather chill and easy-going, focusing on various ways to improve your skills and just enjoying being in your early to mid-twenties.

And to the team, you were simply a nice person, hanging around and making funny videos from time to time. You didn’t particularly spend much time with them outside of hockey, yet you felt like you had a nice bond with most of the players and their partners.

In a way, you were content with your life. Sure, it was busy and sometimes overwhelming, but it was also fulfilling and exciting. The only person you were truly interested in knowing more about was Simon.

Naturally, you made efforts to insert yourself whenever the media team wanted to interview him, but you also wanted to maintain an air of nonchalance. So, you played it cool.

Well, as cool as possible, until it came time for his turn in the Blue Room session.

You found yourself unable to suppress your smiles and giggles at each of his responses. He effortlessly delivered humour, exuding relaxation and authenticity. It was akin to witnessing a more intimate side of him, one unmasked by his athletic prowess. And as he spoke, you hung onto his every word, enchanted by his charisma and genuineness. It was in these moments that the desire to know him beyond the confines of the hockey rink intensified.

And to your surprise, Simon seemed to take notice of you too.

"That's a cute laugh," he remarked suddenly as the session drew to a close, causing you to glance up from your phone, taken aback by his boldness.

"Oh... erm... thanks," you replied, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice. "I mean, I've always hated it..."

Your heart raced as you found yourself in close proximity to the defenseman, the two of you lingering amidst the team's clean-up efforts after his milk-guessing antics.

But to your relief, Simon didn't seem to pick up on your nerves. Instead, he simply chuckled.

"Why hate it?" he inquired, his charming French-Canadian accent adding to the allure.

You couldn't help but blush. "Oh, I don't know," you admitted softly. "It just feels a bit... loud and weird..."

"So?" Simon chuckled again. "You should embrace it. It's cute."

You were left speechless. Simon Benoit found your laughter cute? You felt like a schoolgirl, standing there, blushing under his gaze as he offered a compliment.

This wasn't like you. You were usually confident in your interactions with guys. You knew you were pretty good-looking, had a pleasant demeanour and got along well with most people. Yet, this hockey player had you feeling flustered, your stomach aflutter with butterflies, and your mind in a whirl.

You wanted to say something. Perhaps even suggest grabbing coffee together. But before you could gather your thoughts, Simon was called back to re-join the team's training session. And as he flashed you a friendly smile on his way out, a twinge of disappointment washed over you. Had you just missed your chance?

_

Luckily, that wasn't your only chance.

Although conversations between you and Simon remained limited post-Blue Room filming, there were frequent exchanges of glances and smiles in the hallway or aboard the plane.

Whenever your camera was in hand, Simon would flash you a smile, his gaze lingering a tad longer as he greeted you with a warm "hi." You reciprocated the gesture. It was a subtle dance of silent, discreet flirtation, or perhaps not entirely flirtatious, yet there lingered an unspoken connection beyond mere friendliness.

And while on the road, shortly after Simon inked his three-year contract with the Leafs, you were on the brink of discovering if there was indeed something more between you.

Amidst the whirlwind of travel chaos and the players' hectic schedules, you settled into your seat on the plane, laptop in front of you, attempting to unwind for the flight ahead.

Meanwhile, Simon couldn't help but steal occasional glances in your direction. Your focused expression, the way you nibbled on the end of your pen while engrossed in your laptop screen, didn't escape his notice, eliciting a smile from him.

You were so incredibly beautiful, and your laughter was nothing but contagious. Yet Simon knew he had to tread cautiously. He didn't want to come across as the new guy making moves on the women of the team. Moreover, his primary focus was on his career. Despite its ups and downs, his love for the sport remained unwavering, and he was determined to prove himself and relish every moment.

So, he attempted to maintain a slight distance from you. Tried, being the operative word. You seemed to be around all the time, and he couldn't ignore the subtle sparks you ignited within him. No matter how hard he tried to keep his focus solely on the game and his professional trajectory, there was something about you that made it challenging to keep his distance. Perhaps it was your laid-back demeanour or the genuine warmth that exuded from you.

Nevertheless, Simon found himself drawn to you, even as he strived to uphold a level of professionalism. In the tight-knit world of hockey, he was wary of stirring up any unnecessary drama within the team. Yet, as the flight progressed and the hours slipped away, he couldn't shake the notion that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something worth exploring between the two of you.

The match against the Bruins proved to be a challenge, resulting in a disappointing 4-1 loss for the Leafs. However, redemption came swiftly with a hard-fought 3-2 victory against the Montreal Canadiens two days later. 

The locker room reverberated with cheers following the intense game, where the captain had sealed the win with the third goal. Yet, amidst the jubilation, it was the smiles of a certain defenseman that caught your attention.

Though Benoit hadn't seen action on the ice tonight, his joy mirrored that of his teammates, his eyes occasionally finding their way to you at the back of the room as the managers urged the players to simply enjoy in their triumph.

Instead of heading straight home to Toronto, the team had opted to stay overnight, given the upcoming days off. So, while the players ventured out for some well-deserved fun, you decided to retreat to the hotel to tackle some work.

It was nothing too taxing, just some photo editing from the evening's events. You even brought your laptop to the bar, indulging in a glass of white wine while putting the finishing touches on the social media content.

However, suddenly, a voice broke through your focused reverie.

"Hey, I thought we were supposed to be having fun, not working," Simon chuckled as he sidled up next to you at the bar.

Startled by his sudden appearance, you nearly choked on your drink, momentarily at a loss for words. "Oh, erm... yeah, I just needed to, um, wrap up some media stuff," you managed, flashing him a sheepish smile.

"And you're drinking while working?" he teased, his laughter filling the air once more.

"Gotta make work a little more enjoyable, right?" you quipped back with a playful grin, before shaking your head slightly. "By the way, I never got the chance to congratulate you on the contract!" you steered the conversation towards a more professional and friendly tone, prompting Simon to casually lean against the bar, his smile unwavering.

"Oh, yeah, thanks! It's... it's good to have that one in place," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of relief.

"I can imagine," you replied gently. "Dealing with contracts always seem to be quite the challenge."

"Definitely... it's been a bit nerve-wracking, but also exciting," he echoed your soft tone.

"So, I guess it's time for everyone to get to know more about Simon Benoit then," you attempted to maintain a light-hearted tone.

"Yeah, maybe... so, if you ever feel like it, you can just... interview me, or something..." he chuckled softly.

"Maybe I will…” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause as you silently pondered why he was suddenly engaging in this spontaneous conversation with you.

"Wait, why are you here, Benny? Shouldn't you be out with the boys?" you finally asked.

"Oh, I was, but we were just a few who wanted to head back early before things got too monkey like," he explained, his smile serene as he stood close, the scent of beer subtly lingering around him, his tall frame nearly matched your seated position on the highchair.

"Monkey-like?" you couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Yeah, you know, some of the single guys wanted to flirt with girls, so... Cap and a few others preferred to head back and chat with their partners instead," he explained.

You smiled, relishing the closeness and the opportunity to converse with him like this. Yet, his words lingered in your mind. "And you... you have to call your... girlfriend too?" you asked, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of hesitancy, not wanting to appear too nervous or disappointed by his potential response.

Simon met your gaze for a moment before shaking his head gently. "Nah, no girl waiting for me at home," he replied simply and casually, prompting a soft sigh of relief and a smile to form on your lips.

"But you didn't feel like flirting with anyone else either?" you chuckled lightly, a blend of playfulness and nervousness.

Simon remained calm and collected, offering you a soft glance before speaking softly. "Why would I bother flirting with strangers when there's a perfectly beautiful girl right here in this bar?" he said, his tone laced with flirtation, a smile playing on his lips. His words sent warmth coursing through you, leaving an undeniable impact.

He was smooth, undeniably so. And you found yourself falling for his charm.

Desperate to maintain your composure, you took another sip of your drink, then smoothly licked your lips as you considered your response. "You certainly have a way with words, don't you?" you remarked, a playful smirk gracing your features. “Knowing how to impress a girl…” 

"Well, that depends... is it working?" 

As you glanced at the dwindling contents of your glass and then back at him with a suggestive smile, you felt a surge of desire.

"Maybe..." you replied coyly, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes…” 

When you first joined the club as a content creator, getting involved with players was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you had mentally resolved never to entertain any romantic entanglements with the team. And so far, it hadn't been a challenge. While the players were undoubtedly attractive in their own right, there had never been a spark with any of them. That is, until Simon joined the team.

So, downing the last drops of your wine, you rose from your seat, gathering your phone and laptop before making your way to the lift, with Simon following closely behind.

Nothing was rushed. It was all happening at a rather slow pace as neither of you wanted to seem too eager. Yet the build-up tension between you was evident. The longing for each that had been lingering for months was hanging thick in the air. And it wasn’t until you were stopping outside your hotel room door, you locked eyes with his.

Pressing your lips together, you struggled to find the words you longed to speak. "I, uh... I've got my own room... I mean, I'm not sharing it with anyone..." you murmured softly.

And that was all the encouragement Simon needed. Closing the distance between you, he captured your lips with his own, pressing you gently against the door in a fervent kiss, igniting a passion that had been simmering between you for months.

It was everything you had imagined and more. The kiss was perfect—gentle yet passionate, fulfilling the fantasies you had long harboured. Simon's hands on your jaw, his fingers delicately threading through your hair as he drew you closer, felt like a dream. His tongue, a subtle yet insistent invitation, prompted your lips to part, eagerly meeting his in a dance of desire. There was no mistaking the mutual longing that enveloped you both in that moment.

Managing to locate your key card amidst the haze of desire, you gently pushed open the door, inviting him into your small hotel room.

The dimmed lights cast a romantic glow, heightening the intimacy as you both explored each other's bodies with slow, tender caresses. Simon's size and strength made it effortless for him to lift you into his arms, carrying you to the bed without breaking the connection of your lips.

And your kisses remained fervent as you slowly undressed each other, shedding shirts and trousers until you were both clad in nothing but underwear. Heels were kicked aside, forgotten in the heat of the moment, leaving you lying on your back in lacy lingerie with the hockey player hovering above you.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, a hint of concern in his voice, mindful of any boundaries that might exist between a hockey player and an MLSE employee.

But in that moment, you didn't care about titles or roles. You were simply two individuals consumed by desire. So, with a light smile, you nodded, giving him the silent permission to continue, letting go of any rationalisations or inhibitions that might have held you back.

And just like the night had been so far, his touch was tender, each movement deliberate as he slowly removed your lacy knickers, exposing your core to him. His fingers traced along the skin of your thighs, sending shivers of anticipation through you as they inched closer to your centre. And when his digits finally made contact with your sensitive flesh, you couldn't help but gasp, your fingers finding his strong arms for support.

Simon then gently pleasured you, and small moans escaped your lips, betraying the wonderful feeling coursing through your body. And iIt didn't take long before those moans turned into sweet cries of ecstasy as his fingers pressed against your entrance, stretching you as they eased their way inside.

His fingers, much like the rest of him, were long and thick, and you couldn't shake the awareness that your colleague was just next door as Simon stimulated your walls, his movements deliberate and eager to bring you pleasure. Yet, your soft moans and cries only spurred him on, each pump of his fingers eliciting a delicious sensation as he curled them upwards, seeking out that particularly sensitive spot.

"Oh, fuck," you exclaimed as he hit the mark perfectly, his movements growing quicker in response to your cries, your fingers digging into his skin in a desperate grip. "Yes... right there..."

And he understood his mission completely, pumping his fingers with precision to drive you towards the brink of climax. And as he kept on going, his determined motions sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your vision to blur as you arched your back and reached the pinnacle of ecstasy.

"Oh, yes..." you panted, gasping for air as the rush of pleasure washed over you, your toes curling as you reached your high.

Gently the man above you then pumped a few more times through your orgasm, as he simply enjoyed  the wetness he had caused between your legs, before withdrawing his fingers.

"Shit, every sound you make is so fucking amazing," Simon murmured under his breath, his hardness pressing against him, aroused by the stimuli he had provided you. Your moans, much like your laughter, were nothing but music to his ears.

So, without hesitation, he crawled back to discard his own boxers, before covering his length with the condom you tossed him. 

"Gotta be responsible, right?" you smiled, flashing him a flirtatious, confident wink as you took pride in being prepared. And Simon simply chuckled in response, returning to the mattress and kneeling between your legs, before he then pulled you close to him, wrapping your legs around him as he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

It was no secret that Simon was a large man. Standing at 6'4" and weighing 205 lbs, he was undeniably substantial, and his hard member only reflected that. He knew he had to go slow, taking his time as he controlled the movements of his hips perfectly from this angle.

So, with a firm grip on your thighs and hips, he gently stretched your walls inch by inch, eliciting soft sounds of pleasure from you, causing you to grasp onto the pillow behind you as he reached your depths.

"Oh yes, ma puce," Simon hummed under his breath, relishing in the tightness of your smaller frame around him, before he then began to pull out and push back in, settling into a slow and steady rhythm to ease into the experience.

"Mmm, oh," you moaned softly, the sensation of his movements sending waves of pleasure through you, your legs trembling in response to his deep penetration.

The pace was a perfect blend of slow and steady, each thrust filled with deep passion. You found yourself panting for air as he gradually increased the intensity, feeling your muscles adjust to accommodate his size.

Yet, though he tried to maintain control, Simon couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him as your bodies melted together. With each movement, you pushed him closer to the edge, fuelling his desire for more.

However, resisting the urge to push harder and faster, he instead leaned over your petite form and captured your lips in a hungry kiss. He then took a strong hold of your body, urging you to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you from the mattress, positioning you to straddle him as he leaned back on his heels.

It wasn’t exactly an easy position to master at first, but as you sank deeper onto his cock, a loud, uncontrolled moan escaped your lips. And almost instinctively, you grabbed onto his brown locks and began to bounce on him.

“Oh yes, mmm baby, that’s it,” he encouraged seductively, his hands guiding your hips as you moved your core up and down his shaft. Cries of pleasure slipped from your tongue and lips, the intensity overwhelming any attempt at connecting in sloppy kisses, while pearls of sweat formed on your skin as you moved in sync, lost in pure pleasure.

“Mmm, god, it feels... so good,” you softly whined as you found a rhythm, your thighs controlling your motions while his strong embrace kept you in place. Your grip in his hair tightened with every passing moment as he stimulated you from within, and soon, you couldn’t hold back your eagerness to reach the impending second orgasm.

And Simon sensed your urgency as your muscles clenched, your panting uncontrolled, and your motions fervent. “Yes, ma puce… come for me, come on my dick,” he encouraged seductively, his hands guiding your hips to move faster, before he allowed his thumb to seek out your clit, and give you the final push. 

You didn’t need to be told twice. Bouncing a few times more vigorously, you let out a deep moan as you pushed yourself to your second climax, resting your head in the crook of his neck as you shut your eyes.

Barely able to hold your own body upright, Simon had you secured as you let the rush of pleasure take over. And you couldn’t ignore that your legs trembled as your core pulsated around him, this being one of the most intense orgasms you’d experienced in a long time.

Breathing became close to difficult, but you managed to refill your lungs with air as you collected yourself, slowly coming out of the euphoric state.

Simon gave you the time you needed to come down from the high, yet he felt his own climax approaching. With the tightness of your core around him, it was increasingly difficult to hold back. So, as he sensed you were back to reality, your satisfied smile indicating your pleasure as you leaned back and opened your eyes, he crashed his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss while pressing you back down into the mattress and picking up forceful thrusts.

Driven by nothing but primal instincts, Simon then pounded vigorously into you, the echoes of your moans ringing in his ears. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the noises of your bodies colliding with force filling the room. And you knew your neighbour was likely to hear you, but you didn’t care. Your mind and body had surrendered to the team’s new defenceman, and you did nothing to stop him from pushing himself closer to his own climax, thrusting with every bit of energy he had in him until he let out a deep grunt, accompanied by a few French curse words, as he released himself into the condom.

You could barely move as Simon rested on top of you, both of your breaths deep and eager. None of you spoke as the high slowly faded, and it was only with care that Simon withdrew himself, offering you a quick kiss before he went to discard the condom.

Your body still tingled from the latest orgasm, as if months of silent flirting had finally found release. Catching your breath, you couldn't help but smile as the hockey player returned to the bed.

Naturally, you both knew he couldn’t stay the night; no one should know he’d been the cause of your loud moans. However, during breakfast, neither of you could resist sending glances across the room. And during the plane ride back to Toronto, you shared only secret messages, trying not to draw attention from your teammates.

Yet that only lasted a few days before Max caught on to the sexual tension between you, and with his big mouth running, soon everyone on the team knew.

Initially, you felt a little embarrassed. However, as you overheard Simon talking about how good it felt to finally give in to his desires and wanting to find a way to ask you out, you felt a level of pride and warmth within you.

And fortunately, it didn’t take long before you finally went on your very first official date.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 25 “Endurance Test” [Episode List] Tim gets a bit too cocky and challenges his gassy friend by (jokingly) doubting of his farting skills. Dave, whose farts are being as powerful as usual, if not more, gladly accepts the challenge.

This story was originally requested by StraightFartGods.

POV: Tim

The weather outside, despite being warm, wasn’t the best so our plans for the night, being a group of friends who’s starting to surrender way too easily (it’s because once you’re past 25, you get instantly old), we all decided to stay home, our respective homes even, so Dave and I ended up alone. We don’t mind that much.

Dave likes going out way more than me (though it’s not like I don’t know how to have fun) but he too cherishes some good, safe alone-time to recharge social batteries: we’re much more similar than we’d like to admit, which is why we get along so well. They say we’re “the odd couple”, but I think that weirdos simply attract each other naturally, even though they can look very different at first.

“Alright.” Dave said, walking into the living room. He was dressed as if we had to leave, so a grey shirt and a pair of good old dark blue jeans, slightly loose because he untied his belt. “I’m starving.”

“Pizza?” I simply asked.

“The day I’m gonna answer ‘No’ to that is the day you’ll know a skinwalker took my place.”

The power of pizza.

Even though we didn’t actively plan for it, the night slowly morphed into a “movie night”, just the two of us on the couch eating pizza and watching a cheesy, manly, toxic action movie that we can recite by memory because of how many times we watched it: “Bullet Gore”. Now that’s a title!

“Your face is history.” the male hero said, right before turning somebody’s head to bits with his shotgun.

We cheered as and had a sip of beer as if our baseball team scored the match point and enjoyed the unnecessary but fun gore sequences of the film.

“Too bad they ruined everything with the sequel.” Dave commented.

“Aw come on. It’s worse, but not that bad.” I replied.

“Never watched and never will.” he stated, taking a good sip of beer.

By the time the movie was halfway done (it was a surprisingly long flick), I had to turn up the volume because of some noises next to me making me difficult to hear what the characters were saying.

Indeed, Dave started farting, the way he does during nights like these, with pizza and beer acting as fuel for his already incredible talent. He was resting both his legs on the small table in front of the couch, his denim ass facing the TV, so I didn’t have a proper full view of it. I could, however, hear every single blast echoing in the room, with the terrible scent immediately following each thunder.

I would love to say that he was doing this because of my kink, but this is actually what being Dave’s close friend means: you better get used to his farts, because he’s gonna just casually do it in front of you whether you like it or not. He wasn’t even acknowledging that he was ripping one every few minutes, huge ones nonetheless, though once or twice he did snap his fingers to get me to turn to him, so I could see his smirk as he ripped one. Once again, he does this with our other friends as well, but he does seem to put some extra “care” into the teasing part because he knows I actually, well, like it.

But everyone’s got limits: the farts were huge, not overly long, but incredibly stinky. Even for my standards, it was getting a bit… stuffy in there, so I actually went for it.

“I know this is weird coming from me, but… can you tone it down a bit?”

Dave slowly turned to me with a serious, surprised face, and effortlessly replied by ripping a loud, almost wet one, renewing the stench he was immune to. This time it was one of his longer ones, around 7 seconds long.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you.” he managed to say while farting. “Did you say something?”

After the fart ended and a few moments of silence (ignoring the TV), I opened my mouth to speak again, but my friend’s ass spoke first, emitting another loud, long rip.

Dave gestured to his ear and slowly shook his head, as to say the he still couldn’t hear me, as if we were in a loud nightclub, but the only music piercing through my own eardrums was my bro’s loud fart.

That ridiculous scene actually made me laugh like an idiot, while also giving me the hardest boner so far of the night.

9 seconds and the rip was over.

“So, I did it.” Dave said. “You’ve been healed. I blasted your kink out of you.” he joked.

“Please…” I played along. “Those were like… low-tier farts, for your standards.”

“True.” he playfully admitted. “So don’t tempt me.” he threatened. 

I hated that I found that… hot.

“I’m n-not… I’m just s-saying that the entire room smells like, I don’t know, rotten beer? Is t-that even possible?”

Dave laughed. “If only there was something or someone who could fix this!”

“What are you implying…?” I asked.

“Well…” Dave sat normally on the couch. “I assumed your lungs were better than this. But apparently you just can’t handle my power.” he said, with a cheesy smirk.

“Oh…” I got what he meant. “Well, maybe I’m not complaining because of you’re farting too much.” I leaned closer to him, as if we were doing some shady business. “Maybe I’m complaining because you’re not farting enough.” I dared to say.

My friend replied with a surprised laughter. “Are you seriously challenging me?” he didn’t sound offended or disgusted, just amused. But he can get cocky.

“Wanna bet?” I asked, indeed challenging him.

“Alright, get up.” 

Dave stood up and I did the same: it truly looked like we were doing a business meeting.

“Challenge accepted.” he continued, and we firmly shook hands. “If I win, beers are on you for 3 months.” 

“Deal.” I replied. “But if I win, we’re gonna watch ‘Bullet Gore 2’ later.”

While still shaking hands, Dave looked at me funny. 

“Really? That’s it?” he replied, with a smile. “All of this just to watch a shitty movie with me?”

Funny how that’s the thing he found weird instead of, you know, the boner his farts give me.

“Yeah. Pretty gay, huh?” I joked.

“Okay…” he nodded, still somewhat surprised. “It’s a deal.”

We once again had this super manly handshake going on, just as an helicopter in the movie exploded in a fiery fireball, killing a bunch of henchmen and one of the main villains, with the shirtless muscular hero saying something like “Burn in Hell, you son of a bitch!”. Probably the manliest moment I ever lived through.

“So, let’s hear those toots.” I said, bravely.”

“Toots?” my friend replied. “I’m gonna blast your face so hard you’re gonna regret having this kink…”.

Dave casually threatening me like this… got me instantly hard. I knew he was just playing along but goddammit, why am I like this? Why is he like this? Why the fuck did I even accept this bet?! As my own mind made fun of me, my bro lied on this stomach on the couch, his tall figure occupying all of it, his nice jeans-clad ass facing up, looking like a soft warm denim pillow.

I simply managed to sit between his long legs and planted my face into that ass, still stinky for all the farts he ripped until that moment. My nose wasn’t facing down however, as I didn’t want to make it weird.

“Dude.” I heard Dave say. “Honestly, your lack of commitment to your fart kink disappoints me”. he then laughed, reaching for my head. “Be a man and face my ass.” he said, pushing my head deeper between his denim asscheeks.

I tried not to laugh myself at that weird statement, so I just obeyed and turned my head, facing down, now fully at the mercy of my friend’s powerful butt. I took a good whiff, enjoying the smell of almost 1 hour of loud, post-pizza blasts. As I did that, I felt the ass’ muscles relaxing, a sign that Dave was pushing one out, and indeed it came out immediately: an ear-piercing blast and made my face shake, almost wet-sounding, felt like a slap on my face. 

My task was clear: not a single particle of gas had to reach Dave’s nose, so I inhaled it deeply and loudly as the fart kept erupting straight down my nostrils. I inhaled so hard and for so long that I actually surprisingly outlasted my friend’s 9 seconds: now the only noise we both could hear (besides someone getting shot in the movie) was me breathing his gas in… which made me realize how weird that was.

Am I making this weird? Too… “porn-y” for my straight friend? I love that he has no problems with me and my kink, but I don’t want to cross certain lines you know. He’s not saying anything… but his silence only makes it worse. I had to make sure.

“Dave.” I said, my voice being muffled by his ass, which made him laugh. “Am I making this weird?”

My friend simply turned his head, trying to look at me. I managed to get a quick look of his facial expression but the only thing on his face was a cocky smirk.

“Not weirder than usual to me.” he simply said. He then reached for my head, making it bounce a bit in his ass. “…Ready?”

Another fart erupted, which itself was Dave’s real answer to my question: “it’s fine”, he knows what this kink is by now, and he’s the one who basically challenged me to sniff it all up. Plus, if he was weirded out he knew he could just tell me and I wouldn’t be offended: we’re all adults here after all.

So there I was, my nose enduring some of the worst rips my friend ever gifted to me, the sheer power of those blasts being raunchier than his usual for some reason, maybe because of the beers being warmer or the mozzarella on the pizza being spoiled. No idea.

Or maybe it was just Dave putting extra efforts into his farts, if that was even possible. He’s the Fart King after all, so if he was somehow able to set custom pitch, loudness and power for each farts he ripped I wouldn’t have been surprised. Then again, he could even fart on command, so maybe he doesn’t need more buffs than he already has.

“Your face is history” my friend said, in a deeper voice, a clear reference to the masterpiece we were watching earlier.

And just like the henchman from the movie, my head was blown away by a sheer deadly force, this time in the form of Dave’s being unhinged, each natural blast somehow bigger and better than the previous one. I feel like that it doesn’t matter how this bet goes: I’m winning by simply having a bro like him.

I kept sniffing it all up as the blast rushed down my throat. He was good at farting, but I was also good at taking it. It’s like I said: weirdos work better together!

Yeah, I was taking it all like a champ.

“I could do this all night you know.” he boasted, during a rare moment of his ass being silent.

“What a coincidence: me too!” I bragged.

“Ohhhh… someone’s getting cocky back there.”

Dave really wanted those free beers, huh? He once again reached for my head and, with a firm grip, pushed it deeper down his warm denim ass, now almost sagging.

“Let’s see if you can keep your promise, shall we?” that was a threat.

There was like 10 seconds of silence, 10 never-ending seconds, but I just knew Dave was brewing something big, as he kept my head there (not that I was planning to move it anyway). Finally, he turned to me, with a cheesy grin, purposely trying to look like some kind of serial killer from a slasher movie before finish his victim off. 

And then he hit me with his weapon of choice: the loudest fart I heard that night. It was big, it was powerful, it was deep, long. His hand didn’t move and my whole face was shaking because of the sheer power of the blast; I had to close my eyes ‘cause the gas was making them burn. How was it possible to fart so naturally and casually like this for him will always be beyond me… but I didn’t care. I managed to breathe that monster in with my mouth open, almost choking on my friend’s deadly gas.

Dave loved the challenge, but two can play this game! I could tell he was amused, disgusted and surprised by how good I was at enduring his powerful rips.

And finally, after 16 whole seconds, that impressive display of flatulence was over, not a single particle of gas reaching my farter-friend’s nostrils, as I promised.

“I believe you’re losing your touch.” I mocked him.

“With all the farts you've been eating, of course you'd be talking shit you ungrateful bastard!”

“Ohhhh sorry, someone's a little touchy.” I kept teasing him.

“Alright, I’m done holding back.” he sounded comically annoyed by my impressive endurance.

My friend slowly turned over until he was lying on his back, making sure he didn’t accidentally kick me with his long legs. He now assumed a more familiar position, the one he usually has when blasting me. He cocked his legs up, showing off his denim ass and a tiny bit of his red boxer brief, and wrapped his legs around me, pulling me closer to his gas source. His long legs had an even stronger grip than his hand, and my whole face was now completely planted into my friend’s ass.

“I’m feeling merciful tonight, so I’m giving you the chance to surrender now.” he stated, as his legs held me still, keeping my nose right between the rough fabric of his jeans-clad buttcheeks.

“Never.” I boasted. “…unless, you know, you actually want to stop because this is getting too weir-“

“Shut up!” he cut me off. “You just had to ruin my villainous speech, didn’t you?!” he laughed.

I just didn’t know what to say.

“Again, this is your last chance bro.”

I played along, knowing he was okay with it. “Hit me with your best shot, but don’t wound what you can’t kill.”

We both laughed like immature idiots, but Dave took my words at heart, because once we were done laughing at that ridiculous moment, he felt air being sucked inside his anus.

Yes, he switched to “on-command” mode, his secret weapon, his final secret move. Despite my face being there, my bro didn’t have any trouble at sucking more and more air through his ass like a vacuum cleaner, and the sound that made wasn’t that different from an actual fart. Every time I heard that “air-being-sucked-in” noise, as silly as that sounds, I think of a drumroll, the kind of tension that raises before the beat actually drops, because that’s what Dave’s farts are: something to look forward to… if you’re into it of course.

He’s been sucking air for like 20 seconds now and I started to regret my cockiness: when even a kinky bitch like me ends up being afraid of his own best bro’s farting skills, you just know something big, maybe too big, is gonna happen.

The anticipation made me hornier than ever, and the fact that it was, well, Dave, just Dave, my friend, made it even hotter for me. So casually, undeniably hot.

Finally, he stopped sucked air in, and I could hear Dave breathing (from his mouth) heavily, a sign that he was getting tired… and even his ass was getting sweatier and warmer.

“Your face is history.” my bud said again, in a comically deep voice. 

We love that movie.

What followed, however, almost made me pass out. 

The loudness was almost unnatural, I feared it could make me deaf. Imagine the stock sound of a fart, only longer, more powerful, airy, the most impressive fart Dave ripped in months, something so powerful that he can even feel the recoil as he pushed it out… just like a shotgun.

The more he farted, the louder it got, and I swore he was gonna tear a hole through his jeans this time, there was no way his clothes were able to endure that. I kept sniffing, breathing heavily, the fart’s pace being faster than my own breathing, if that makes any sense. 10 seconds already and the blast didn’t seem to lose any power: I almost got scared.

As the fart kept getting ripped, I felt Dave stretching his long denim legs wide to ease the fart out, which in turn made it sound even louder and deadlier. I felt like living a weird fever dream, probably because of all the poisonous gas in my lungs. But I also felt the luckiest man in the world.

I dared to peek over that denim ass, only to be greeted by Dave having the most evil smirk in the world, completely unfazed by how weird I was, how all of that was… but I could also see how tired and sweaty he was from forcing all those farts out, incredibly enough.

I planted my head back where it belonged, sniffing as much as I could, as if my life depended on it, even though I was almost passing out for all that stench… and the blood rushing down to my boner didn’t help to focus at all.

And yet… I won. The fart was losing power, ending with a quick series of toots, Dave’s legs crashing down the couch, his left one on my right side, his right one on my left side, and I got up myself, my face leaving that gas trap, finally sitting down normally on the couch.

I took a good look at Dave: he was indeed tired, sweaty, sporting a silly smirk.

“Is that how you look like after sex?” I dared to joke.

My friend laughed. “Hey, I love you bro, but you gotta settle for my farts.”

I patted one of his legs in response, as a cheesy way to thank him, and hopefully he knew how thankful I was. I mean, he already knew how aroused I was anyway, so why keep the fact that I’m grateful a secret?

Dave too adjusted his position, this time kicking me on purpose while doing it, and sat back normally.

“I gotta say, I didn’t except you to win.” he admitted.

“…win?!” I replied. “Bro… I was basically done. That last one almost killed me.”

We both laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Let’s call it a tie then.” he proposed. “Until next time at least.” he just casually said.

I simply turned to the TV, only to find out that the movie was over.

Did Dave just face-farted me for like… 30 minutes?! Time truly flew by.

My friend then reached for his beer and the remote. We some on-demand features on our TV and, after navigating the UI for a few seconds, he started downloading “Bullet Gore 2”.

“Really?” I asked. 

“Well, if you can endure all of that gas, I can sit through a turd of a movie.” 

I think he was gonna watch this movie with me either way, regardless of any bet, just like I’m more than happy to offer him a beer whenever I could, so all of this fart-bet was for nothing.

Then again, weirdos attract each other naturally...

End of Episode 25

[mossy-green-aka-ferrythem]

God now that I truly think about it... (Shadow of the Erdtree Spoilers under cut. I will be going over every remembrance boss.)

Never have I been more disappointed in a boss than with Promised Consort Radahn. What really makes it sting is the boss lineup this DLC has.

It has truly elevated Elden Ring to one of my favorite games. Stuff that never even clicked before in the base game finally clicked, I love a large portion of Elden Ring's boss design philosophy because it tends to be tough but fair, and the game gives you multiple options to handle all these different challenges. Even some of the worst bosses, with stuff like Godskin Duo, have big workarounds that make them very manageable! (not to say godskin duo is good, just something you can deal with).

Then you look at Promised Consort Radahn, and just... look I need to relay my feelings on all these DLC fights.

Rellana feels a bit too swift for my taste, but still a fun and engaging fight which really is quite interesting!

Divine Beast Dancing Lion really does feel quite simply... Divine when you get the hang of it.

Putrescent Knight was a fight I hated at first, but then... after making it pretty much the first boss I fight when I get to the Shadow Realm... it has become one I am incredibly fond of, and a fight that is, again, fun and engaging!

Scadutree Avatar is an easy favorite of mine. Gives weight to the concept of a "Tree Avatar", is a very engaging fight with many twists and turns, and has a large emphasis on one big weakspot!

Bayle is really amazing. Minus some lingering hitbox jank and the way fire interacts with the arena sometimes, he really did perfect the boss philosophy behind dragon bosses in Elden Ring I'd say. Better than any ancient dragon, better than Placidusax I'd say. Really I am not terribly fond of Placi. Too much big AOE usage and very little movement from the actual boss, only occasionally using lightning claws to keep you in it. Bayle however, is special. The fight actively encourages you to aim for the head, Bayle is aggressive, forcing you to dodge attacks that come at an interesting pace, and adapt to unusual punish windows, and weakpoints, and overall... is just an absolute fucking spectacle that I adore. Would love to learn this boss more in more playthroughs.

Midra is peak, problem is he died quite quickly on my first playthrough, so I can't say too much about him.

Messmer...

Messmer was a turning point.

Messmer is one of my absolute favorite bosses in Elden Ring. In fact, he's one of my favorite souls bosses, period!

So much about him is done right! He harness the Elden Ring boss design philosophy so perfectly! Also just. The way he recontextualizes so many fucking things with him and his mother Marika, and the sort of emotions the fight has... god.

Anyways

Commander Gaius is an alright fight. The changes made to his arena placement are very welcome. Overall a pretty fun fight, all things considered.

Romina is just... god she is just spectacular in so many ways! I love Romina! Mwah! 💋

Metyr is quite the interesting boss... very unusual, very odd, but also, definitely a fun time! Very reminiscent of some unusual fights in Bloodborne, namely Rom. Metyr is still very distinct though, of course.

Then...

God Damn it.

God fucking damn it.

god.

Promised Consort Radahn.

Ok I will be honest

I haven't beaten this fight, but honestly, I don't really want to.

I don't see him as a test of skill, or a fun challenge.

I see him as a test of patience. A test of patience at best even! Like just. So many things about this fight are fucked.

The first phase is great though, I must say! Despite it feeling somewhat frustrating, it has a lot of fun things to it! Though... some of it did feel quite bullshit... which just... oh god. It's like a prelude to what awaits you.

The fucking Second Phase.

Everything falls apart here.

The beams of light mess with your vision, and don't have quite the clear telegraph. I've seen how you dodge them and it's just... hugging against the boss. Like just. It feels like in this way, they enforce a very specific way of playing. Problem is, this way of playing isn't fun!

Then there's also the way other things mess with perception...

Then there is the inconsistent arena structure...

Then there is the nuke that comes out so quickly you can't get away from it 90% of the time...

There's the unsatisfying feel to how suffocating the attack strings begin to feel...

There's the fucking clone attacks that look fucking stupid and feel dumb.

There's the roll catches that will hit you like. All the time.

It doesn't feel right listing it all, but like. I am sure anyone else who has reached his second phase has their own input to give here.

My main input is that it just quite simply... wasn't fun...

In fact, it is bullshit.

Bullshit in that the challenge doesn't feel too consistent, bullshit in that it just feels so suffocating, and how that suffocation works against Elden Ring's design philosophy, and just. It's not fun. It's not fun to either squint your eyes and find a way to roll through that nauseating barrage of light, or take the other best option that I have heard, which is, I kid you not, to just, "Block Everything with a Shield".

...

That's. No. Just. No.

What really gets me is how in my experience, DLC final bosses not only are the most fun, but are also just. So amazing in so many ways. Some of the most emotionally moving the series has to offer, some of the toughest, but some of the most satisfying ever.

When I say this, who I really pertain to is Orphan of Kos, and of course...

Slave Knight Gael. One of my favorite bosses ever. Not just in terms of Souls games. But in terms of EVERY game. Everything about Gael is so amazing... genuinely, no boss has caused my heart to stand still, only to rush back to life quite like Gael. No boss has made me shed deep, sincere tears quite in the way Gael has. I love Gael. Gael means the world to me, and how he so thoroughly thematically captures the end of an entire world, the end of Dark Souls as a series. That there is nothing after him, that he stands alone at the end, due to him just living long enough to outlive everything. It's just... god I could keep going. I adore Gael. Adore him.

While Radahn... yeah I went over it.

Everything about that fight feels scuffed. Extremely scuffed.

Hell, you can actually look at what attributes Radahn and Gael share in terms of gameplay, and Gael does LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYTHING better. Like. Gael is the template here. You don't throw out what Gael did so well in pursuit of this overly-ambitious slog of bright lights and boringly-long attack strings.

Just. God.

What I really have to say here is that Promised Consort Radahn disappoints me so much.

How they have made such an amazing lineup of bosses in this DLC as well, which if I will likely talk about more in the future, and continue to speak about with an air of fondness, fun, and respect! Compared to what was supposed to cap off the DLC it's just...

So horrifically disappointing.

When compared to the Orphan, it's so horribly disappointing.

When compared to Gael, it's so atrociously disappointing.

I make this long post to say just.

I do not like Promised Consort Radahn.

[hasufin]

State of failure

I am currently making hardtack.

This is a mistake. The year is 2023 and there is no good reason to make hardtack. The stuff is an inherently bad idea. There is no practical use for hardtack which is not met today by a product which is superior in every way.

Hardtack existed as a solution for a particular time and application: a way to create portable calories which did not require any cooking in situ, which could be transported in almost any condition, and could be stored for years at a time with no significant detriment.

Today, we have a great many options to meet these requirements. We have MREs. Canned foods. Dehydrated foods. UHT packaging. Freeze-drying. Energy bars. Every one of these options manage to be better-tasting, more nutritious, and just overall more pleasant than hardtack.

Throughout much of history, the idea of going an extended period of time without being able to cook at all would have been ridiculous. What could your circumstances be, that you could not, just once every few days, start a fire? and if you can start a fire you can, at minimum, make waybread. Which isn’t particularly pleasant, sure, but is worlds better than hardtack.

But for a certain period of time, hardtack was indeed the solution. it’s mostly synonymous with sailor’s food, but was also a significant part of a soldier’s diet; certain forms of the stuff, known as “hard biscuit” were used even through WWII. It does have its advantages, mainly in durability. Actually, that’s pretty much it. Hardtack, if kept dry and free of insects, will last pretty much indefinitely.

What, you may wonder, is hardtack?

Well. It’s basically the worst, most basic form of bread you can imagine. It’s unleavened and as dry as possible. It consists of nothing but flour and salt, with just enough water to form into a stiff dough, then baked and dried. That’s literally it.

The hardtack above used 2 cups of whole wheat flour (plus a bit more for the working surface), about a teaspoon of salt, and somewhere between 1/2 and 5/8 of a cup of water.

I combined the salt with the flour. Note - no fat, no sweetener, no flavoring, no leavening. Then, I added half a cup of water and proceeded to knead it. And knead it. And knead it some more. It is impossible to overknead hardtack, because it’s going to be indistinguishable from masonry no matter what you do.

Now, there is some skill to this. You’re up against two competing needs. First, you must make your hardtack as dry as possible. Water is your enemy. If there is water, it could mold, or grow bacteria, or fungus.

On the other hand, you want your dough to be completely smooth. Any seam or fold in the dough will become a crack. The biscuit may break apart; some mold spore or insect could get in.

So, while I started with half a cup of water, I found that amount inadequate and added a little bit of additional water to make it work into a smoother dough. As you can see, it still wasn’t perfectly smooth but I successfully incorporated all the flour.

Once I had a terribly stiff dough, I rolled it out on a floured surface. There’s plenty of leeway here on how you can do it - some people would simply take pieces of the dough and pat them flat. Especially into the 19th century, this could be done with machinery, to make very consistent biscuits. That’s actually pretty important, since sailors and soldiers would want to be sure they were getting a fair ration.

Personally, since I have round biscuit cutters, that’s what I did. This is the style largely favored by the British, to be packed in barrels for Naval usage. Americans tended to make squares or rectangles for most efficient packing in tins. If these were being made professionally, the biscuits would then be impressed with a seal, usually indicating the company which manufactured the biscuits.

The next, and more important, part is to poke holes in the biscuits. These are not for show: they are meant to release steam when the biscuits are baked. If there are no holes, steam may accumulate in pockets, resulting in bubbles. While this might yield a moderately more pleasant hardtack - one that can be more easily broken apart - it also makes it less durable and more prone to spoilage. The holes need to be poked all the way through, which isn’t quite how most such baking is done, but there is no elegance to hardtack.

Next is baking. To be honest, hardtack is not baked. It is sterilized and dried. The simplest method is to bake the biscuits in a low oven for many hours - four is typical, but sometimes the hardtack is baked several times, or overnight. It should be baked just hot enough to assure anything in the flour is killed, and for long enough to remove almost all moisture from the biscuits.

I have opted for a compromise, in large part because I already had my dehydrator out. I baked the biscuits at 250°F for two hours, then transferred them to the dehydrator, where they are currently drying for.... well, until I decide to shut it off. Probably when I go to bed. Sadly, my dehydrator tops out at 160°F, which is 40°F too cool for proper sterilization. If it went up to 200°F, I could put the biscuits directly in there without needing the oven at all, but such was not to be.

So far, it smells surprisingly pleasant, and the one piece I have tasted confirms: it’s terribly bland, of course, lacking even the sourness of yeast. It’s also - as one could predict - quite hard, requiring prolonged dipping in tea to make it soft enough to bite. In short, the flavor is inoffensive while the texture is weaponizable.

I made this stuff knowing what it would be. I started out with the complete expectation that it would be akin to eating a roofing tile. Why do I do this?

Curiosity, I suppose. Now, sometimes I try to improve these historical recipes - I recognize the limitations under which they were made, and try to make them pleasant by adding spices and seasonings which were not available, applying techniques which would have been impractical, and adding fats and sugars which were uneconomical.

Not this recipe. You cannot improve hardtack without compromising its purpose. But I’d seen so many references to it, I knew I wanted to make it for myself, just to experience it.

I’m not going to share the stuff with my friends, though. Not anyone I want to keep as a friend, at any rate.

[digenerate-trash]

hey its the anon who had the scenario i wanted to ask about. Ok so what if PC managed to skip town. Like ok let me break it down. PC when they got this deal was at the police station for their crimes and was about to be sent to prison and they were just thinking about how their life managed to lead up to this point. And they start crying you know cause they didnt want to steal but they had to to get enough money for robin and themself. And now because of Baileys stupid demands they are now being sent to prison for their crimes. But then the guard opened up their waiting cell thing and this woman came in offering a job. One that according to her needed the expertise of someone like them. When PC asks if the job includes them being a criminal the woman just laughs and says the job isnt anything like that. Its a job that helps people. Helps people that are in the sex trafficking ring get out and live life again. And that they needed someone that is good at gettibg away wihtout leaving evidence and has fighting skills in them. The woman offers PC a place to live as well and a ticket to leave this town should they choose to accept. So of course PC accepts it.

Now the thing is PC doesnt tell anyone this. Not even Robin and especially not Bailey. They know Bailey wouldnt want to let go of his best moneymaker and it would just break poor Robins heart if PC told him they were skipping town. So they simply plan to escape the orphanage duribg midnight and meet the woman at pub street at the train station. The only people that knows PC would be leaving is Jordan and Leighton. Jordan because PC is a temple initiate so of course they have to tell him should they be leaving town permanently. Leighton so he could write in his records that PC would be transferribg to another school. 

And the plan succeeds. PC managed to successfully escape town without any of the yanderes foiling their plan! So how do the YAN DOL cast react? I know the School Li would know of this from their teachers telling them PC transferred. Who would find out first besides the people I have already mentioned? Would they try to get to PC or just wait in Rapechester?

Wow ok so that was a doozy. Would love to see your thoughts on this tho! Take care of yourself and have a nice day.

(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean to take this long promie. I was out of it and everything got away from me)

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Whitney 

Absolutely ruined, he's got no clue why you'd leave him high and dry like this especially after he claimed you as his. He's not having a good time and he's fucking sick of not having you around anymore. As soon as school is over he's hunting you down with nothing but brass knuckles and spite. 

You escaped and that's not how things work around here. You should know that. He's made sure to drill it into your thick skull and yet you left without so much as a goodbye. He's tracking you down and dragging you home. Not to the orphanage. You are staying with him. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Robin

He absolutely can't handle it himself he's crying every day and can't eat or sleep or handle himself at all. He calls around he can't find you. He wants things to work out but he can't see it happening. Robin is trying his best to keep it together but he becomes a terrible shut-in. would probably die in the orphanage alone. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Kylar

Coming after you no exceptions. He's looking through everything he's going through hospital records school records he's digging through baileys stuff and intimidating students. The man is hysterical and panicking. He packs up a bag and promises his parents he'll be back soon before he hits the road. When he does finally track you down he's so happy to see you he's crying. You haven't changed a bit! That's what hell insists on before he knocks you out and drags you back to his home. Youre never getting out of the basement now. (he took your legs)

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Sydney

Pure Sydney is regretfully relieved. Though sad. You were too tempting. You were a lot to handle and he's thankful that youre no longer distracting him and causing issues but he misses you. And he waits for you to come back. He plans on marrying you still. 

Corrupt Sydney is a bit worse. He bothers people in town about where they think you went he causes problems he tries to track you down but doesn't get very far. He's sent back to therapy by Sirris… 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Eden

Let's be fair. You never escaped Eden. He's on high alert all the time. Even if you did manage to get away from his grasp he found you first and dragged you to the cabin. He keeps you held down and in the cage every time you mention leaving. He's not great with letting things go. And he's even worse when you mention needing space. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Avery

Avery thinks this is fine. And it is fine. Youre just an aid date after all he can always get another one. But it still bothers him. Thinking yore out there somewhere. Indulging someone else probably. He says he is okay. He thinks he is even when he drags other orphans who look exactly like you on dates. He makes them respond to your name. He chokes them when they slip up. He is much less patient with them. After a little while he pays a private investigator to find you. 

It only takes a couple of months for Avery to show up to your new job. In person. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Black Wolf

Devastated puppy dog eyes. 

Can't handle it constantly looking for you can't even track your scent anymore. Can't even go into town. 

Blackwolf just has to wait for you back at the cave. He hopes you come back home soon

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Great Hawk

Same as black wolf but with more bird sounds. 

Has a pile of jewelry waiting for you. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Alex

Absolutely wrecked. He thinks he's the one whos done something wrong to drive you away. He asks around and finds out youre gone from town and no one can find you. He feels sick all the time can't even take care of the farm anymore

He doesn't track you down. He can't even think about you without feeling sick and angry with himself

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Bailey

He's tracking you down instantly. Don't get comfy in your new life because you won't be there for long. He's dragging you back home within days of your disappearance and hes pulling no punches. 

Youre chained and locked away forever now. He's never letting you go and for the next few weeks, he refuses to talk to you. He treats you terribly and can't even look at you. Pissed off that you would ever even think of leaving

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Harper

Good luck escaping this fuck :)

[decaffeinatedbreadsublime]

Say Anything — Raj Koothrappali x Reader

Author's Note: I kind of liked this one? I hope you like it too!

P.S: English is not my first language, sorry if it's bad!

Warnings: insecurities, ending relationships and cheesy things!

Summary: you and Raj break up, but he decides to fight for your love

You knew that Raj had a rather peculiar past when it came to women and relationships.

In his youth, Raj would easily fall in love, yet due to his extreme shyness and selective mutism, he couldn't even manage to say "hello" to them. It was during a turbulent phase, what Penny referred to as "the Martini incident," that Raj discovered alcohol helped him loosen up and converse with women, albeit adopting an arrogant and self-assured personality.

His journey towards forming meaningful relationships was slow and steady, marked by several romances until he eventually began dating you. You dubbed him "Raj 5.0," believing you had found the most refined version of him, the perfect boyfriend.

There had never been issues with his past relationships or his tendency to swiftly transition from one romance to another, as he seemed to have changed. However, that night, you discovered he harbored a darker side.

"So, Y/N," Penny said while pouring you a glass of wine during a girls' night where you were invited as Raj's new girlfriend, "how are things going with him?"

"Wonderfully," you replied with a smile. "When I used to see him around the Caltech corridors, I thought he was just a funny nerd. I never imagined he could be such a passionate lover."

"We're all surprised by Raj's transformation," Bernadette remarked. "We knew he was a good boyfriend to my husband, but we weren't sure if he had the same skills with other women."

"Yes, he doesn't seem like the Raj who broke up with his girlfriend on Valentine's Day to pursue another woman, and when she rejected him, he tried to backtrack. Or went out with his ex while he was dating another girl" Penny commented, inadvertently laughing at the memory.

You stopped laughing immediately.

"Raj did that?" you asked, a mixture of concern and sadness in your tone. "That's terrible."

"Sweetie, Raj had his moments," Penny began, trying to justify. "But he's changed."

"Do his 'moments' mean he's acted like this more times?" you inquired, placing the wine glass carefully on the table, trying to process everything.

"He's come a long way since then, Y/N," Bernadette attempted to explain.

"I thought he was just clumsy, I didn't knew he had been so terrible to his ex-girlfriends"

A heavy silence filled the room. Bernadette nervously played with the wine glass.

"Unbelievable," you murmured, getting up to fetch your purse. "I thought he was different, he's just like everyone who hurt me"

With tears in your eyes, you left the house.

"Remember when you explained to me about comments that help and those that don't?" Amy said to Penny “I think that one definitely didn't help, bestie"

***

That night, you decided to end things with Raj. It was overwhelming for your mind, having been hurt enough in past relationships.

You had thought he was different, a man you could trust. He was romantic, kind, attentive, and cooked for you every night. Yet you knew that all princes could turn into beasts, and Raj seemed to have great potential for that. You didn't want to be around when that happened.

You went to his house to break up. You could have sent a message or ended it remotely, but that seemed heartless. With red-rimmed eyes from crying, you knocked on his door. He tried to hug you, mentioning he was surprised you were there since it was supposed to be a girls' night. You dodged the embrace and amid his confused expression, you ended it. He said nothing, just stood there for a while. You didn't explain your reasons, simply stating it couldn't go on.

In his stunned silence, you left.

***

 Raj gently knocked on Penny's door at ten o'clock in the evening. Just two hours ago, you had broken up with him, and since then he had cried like never before. His head throbbed intensely, and he felt dizzy.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Penny asked, visibly concerned, as she opened the door. She led him to the sofa and waited for him to gather himself.

"Y/N broke up with me," he said, tears welling up again. "She didn't even explain why, just said she needed to end it. I already miss her so much." It was then that he broke down in tears. "Why did she end it like that? Has she grown tired of me? Am I so hard to love?"

Penny remained silent for a moment, guilt squeezing at her heart. She comforted Raj while summoning the courage to speak.

"Raj... Y/N knows about Emily's story."

"What!?" Raj exclaimed, startled. "She must think I'm a jerk!"

"Well... Kind off."

"How did she find out? It doesn't matter. Maybe I am a fool, but I've changed so much for her. Before, I couldn't see sincerity in people, I'd fall in love and then grow tired... but she has held me in a way that I can't imagine my life without her now. But it's no use, she's gone."

"Don't give up just yet," Penny said, her tone encouraging. "Y/N is frightened, you know how impulsive she can be at times. She's had many bad relationships before and she's afraid this might be just another one."

"And what if it is?"

"It won't be. You love her and you've changed for her. Get some rest and talk to her tomorrow, give her time to cool her head as well."

***

Raj knew he should have waited a little longer. Lying on his bed, he tossed and turned all night.

Penny had given him hope that he should try, and he had decided to try. At three in the morning, he felt he could wait no longer and made his way to her apartment, with an old and ridiculously large sound system that until then had served only as decoration in his Raj Mahal.

And at three-thirty in the morning, you were awakened by the sound of "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. At first, you squirmed in bed, thinking it was just a dream. Upon waking and realizing the music wasn't just in your head, you considered the possibility of a party or a neighbor. However, as the music grew louder, you decided to look out the window, and there was Raj holding the sound system for you like Lloyd Dobler in "Say Anything."

"Raj, what are you doing!?" you exclaimed, opening the window. A cold front blew in, causing you to clutch your long-sleeved blouse pajamas tighter.

"I'm showing you that I haven't given up on our love, like Lloyd Dobler!" he replied, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"That's so cheesy!" you responded amidst laughter. "Come up here, it's terribly windy out there."

He turned off the music and stowed it back in the car before coming up. His heart was racing; he hadn't planned much beyond surprising you.

When he knocked on your apartment door, you hugged him tightly, your warm body contrasting with his cold one in the predawn chill.

"Who would've thought, cold in July and in Pasadena. They weren't kidding about global warming, huh?" you said, a habit of making random comments in stressful situations. Raj knew this, and he knew he wasn't here for small talk, so, holding your face gently, he gave you a passionate kiss, even knowing you might hate him for it for the rest of your life.

"The guy you hate, the Raj of the past who was a jerk with women and reminds you of your exes... I hate him too. I hate him and I'm disgusted by him, but he doesn't exist anymore... thanks to you."

"Raj..."

"I can't explain what happened, maybe it's just a soulmates thing where after just one day with you, I knew you're the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with and do things right."

"I was really scared when I found out you used to be such... I guess the word is a jerk. I've been hurt and deceived many times, and when they told me about your past, my instinct was to end it before it got worse."

"I wouldn't be like that with you."

"I don't know. There's no way for me to know. You could get tired of me or fall in love with someone else, there are so many ways this could end with a broken heart. And I'm scared."

"Y/N..."

"But I like being with you, and I've decided to take a risk. I thought a lot from the moment I broke up with you and I know I was very... Intense with my decision, and I regretted it because everyone can be horrible, I can't predict that. 

But to stay with you, you need to promise me that you will always be honest with me. Communicate any feeling and don't make me look like a fool."

"Always, Y/N, I will always do whatever you want," he said, embracing you tightly.

"The Say Anything move was a nice touch," you said with a laugh, breaking the embrace.

"Oh, you know I'm a hopeless romantic," he chuckled, holding your face again for another kiss.

[bugsimmer]

Sims 4 Legacy Challenge: Musicals

I wanted to try and make my own legacy challenge since this community is full of so many incredible ideas. This challenge is only five generations and not composed of my all-time favs, but these were the shows I could come up with plots for. If people like this one, I'd consider making a part 2 though!! I also have all the packs so feel free to amend this to fit your packs or play style!!

Gen #1: Loser Geek Whatever

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Traits: Childish, Geek, Jealous

Career: Tech Guru, E-sports Gamer branch

Summary: You were always the loser as a child. You never had many friends and always longed for more: connection, popularity, attention. You spent most of your life playing video games, but now, as a Young Adult, you are determined to broaden your social circle and become cool. Rules: You must max the Tech Guru career (E-sports Gamer branch) and max the video gaming and charisma skills. Complete the Friend of the World aspiration and have at least one child. Bonus: Use a color scheme of purple, blue, and green. Have a difficult or distant relationship with your child(ren). Pine endlessly for a friend your whole Young Adult life, and only marry them into Adulthood. 

Gen #2: What Baking Can Do

Aspiration: Appliance Whiz

Traits: Ambitious, Foodie, Family Oriented

Career: Running a food stand

Summary: Your parent was always so busy with their many friends, and you missed out on a lot of important teaching moments. As a Young Adult, you marry someone you aren’t very compatible with and end up expecting a child with them. Not wanting to raise a child in your current environment, you work your ass off baking and cooking for your food stand to make enough money to leave your spouse and give your child a good life. Rules: You must be married as a Young Adult and divorce them. Max the baking, cooking, and gourmet cooking skills. Have only one child with your ex. Getting re-married is optional, but you must not have any children with your new spouse. You must run a food stand as your main source of income (having part-time jobs as a teen or while initially in your marriage is fine, but once you decide to leave, get baking!) Bonus: Use a color scheme of pink, yellow, and light blue. Have a permissive relationship with your child. If your food stand becomes too easy to manage, open your own restaurant!

Gen #3: Waving Through a Window

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Traits: Gloomy, Loves Outdoors, Socially Awkward

Career: Writer

Summary: Your parent was good to you, but you always knew the sacrifices that they made for you, which left you with the anxiety to succeed. But you don’t want to do anything ground-breaking…You just want to nurture your plants!  Rules: Max the gardening and writing skills. Join the writing career, become a freelance writer, or simply write books and publish them. This should be your main source of income, but you can also sell your plants for extra income. You don’t have to get married, but you can, and you can have as many kids as you want. Bonus: Use a color scheme of blue, black, and white. Max the flower arranging skill. Tell a lot of lies to everyone, including your friends, family, spouse, and children. Write only fictitious stories for your career.

Gen #4: I Might Be Beautiful

Aspiration: Admired Icon / Successful Lineage

Traits: Neat, Party Animal, Perfectionist

Career: Lawyer

Summary: After seeing how terrible your parent’s social skills are, you vow to never be like them. You spend your teen years desperate to be admired, throwing parties and keeping up with all the trends. You befriend and date some toxic people, and come out the other end a little traumatized, but overall a better person. You pursue a career in law, leaving your mischievous and crazy past behind you, but you still enjoy a good party now and then. Rules: Complete the Admired Icon teen aspiration. Max the charisma, logic, and research & debate skills. Max the Law career in whichever branch you choose. You don’t have to get married and you can have as many children as you want. Bonus: Use a color scheme of red, yellow, green, and blue. Have a toxic ex from your teen years. If you have the Extreme Violence mod, go crazy.

Gen #5: The Room Where It Happens

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Traits: Ambitious, Genius, Self-Assured

Career: Politician

Summary: Your parent wanted to have a successful lineage, and you are determined to fulfill their wish. You want to make a positive change in the world, but your intelligence and ambition often intimidate people, so relationships aren’t always easy for you. You become a politician and pour yourself entirely into your career, finding seldom time for socialization and hobbies, but you don’t mind too much. Rules: Max the Politician career, as well as the the charisma and writing skills. Complete the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration. Get married and have at least two children. Have an affair and win your spouse back. Bonus: Use a color scheme of gold and black. Try to have as many kids as possible. Die in a stupid way.

[transmutationisms]

what kind of person do you think should go to graduate school (just graduated summa cum laude (not bragging) and have no ability to do anything besides study and mope, really terrible at job interviews, have no idea what to do besides study more because it’s the only thing I’m alright at, have failed to secure job as a projectionist/apple salesperson/etc., unsure how everyone else manages to get along)

my honest advice here is always that you should view grad school as a means to a degree, and you should go to grad school only if you want that degree. it's not a path to personal fulfillment or some kind of idyllic life of the mind, it's a means to a specific professional qualification that requires a significant investment of your time, effort, and money. success in grad school is a matter of how well you are able to adapt to the demands of the institution; plenty of people who are passionate about their studies find grad school alienating, soul-crushing, or simply impossible. the skills you learn and use in grad school are generally intended to prepare you for future jobs in academia or related fields; this is not the same as simply pursuing knowledge for the love of it.

you should think of grad school as a job (even if you are looking at master's programs where you would be paying tuition) and the university as having the same inherently adversarial relationship to you as any other employer. you may very well decide it's a job you want (i did, and still do) but you should absolutely not pursue grad school if you're thinking of it as an escape or reprieve from having a job, or if you think academia doesn't have the same exploitation and bullshit as any other comparably white-collar professional setting.

if you do decide to pursue it, never attend a doctoral program that can't pay you (tuition waiver + stipend at the very least), and before committing anywhere always meet with their current grad students and ask what the department is really like for them. pursue a field you want to be immersed in for at least the next 5–10 years, but don't get suckered into thinking that passion and interest in your field guarantee success in the university, any more than they would at any other job. don't join a department where the faculty have beef with each other (you will need at least three of these people on your committee!) and do anything in your power to ditch any advisor or mentor who doesn't gel with you or treats you poorly.