#and then the actual contents of the book???

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

[candylix]

great minds think alike | bang chan

A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.

You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?

This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.

You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.

Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.

Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.

Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.

"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.

He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.

"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.

"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.

"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."

"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."

"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.

"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."

'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.

"I hope I don't distract you, then."

He laughs nervously at your comment.

"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.

You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.

While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.

'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'

There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.

'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'

His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.

You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.

He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.

You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.

"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.

You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.

You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.

Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.

It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.

He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.

Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.

"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'

You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.

"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."

"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."

He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."

"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.

"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.

You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.

For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.

You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"

"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.

He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.

You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.

You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.

"Me too," you admit.

As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.

"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"

"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."

"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."

You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.

You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.

Although he would argue otherwise.

EPILOGUE:

You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.

"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"

You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.

You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.

He looks at your score.

'Wow, what a terrible grade.'

He looks back at you.

"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.

[pomefioredove]

could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^

more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

Trey and Cater's Ending

"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"

Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?

Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"

Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."

Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.

"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"

Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.

"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"

Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"

"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."

"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.

---

"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.

It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.

Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"

"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."

"...Understandable,"

Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.

"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."

You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"

"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."

Leona's Ending

"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.

"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"

Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"

"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"

He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.

---

"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."

You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.

"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."

"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."

Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.

"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"

He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"

"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"

"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"

"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.

You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.

"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"

He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."

You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.

It could be better, but it could also be worse.

Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.

This could definitely be interesting...

Rook's Ending

"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."

At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."

"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"

Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.

As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.

What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.

The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.

He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."

...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.

"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.

"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.

"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"

You couldn't have said it better yourself.

Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"

The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"

You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.

Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.

It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.

"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"

"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.

Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"

"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"

He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.

Idia's Ending

LOL. Normies.

Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.

I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.

That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...

The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.

He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.

Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"

"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"

"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"

Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"

Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"

"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"

"Well-"

"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"

"But Idia-"

"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"

"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.

"Idia, you won!"

And then he dies.

That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.

"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"

A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.

"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"

He takes a long moment to respond.

"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"

You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.

"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"

"I could go for something,"

Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.

"Um..."

He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"

He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"

He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.

Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"

"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"

"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"

"Clever," you murmur.

Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"

"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"

You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"

You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.

"Well? Are you coming?"

Lilia's Ending

"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"

Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"

Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"

Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.

Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"

"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.

---

You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.

You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"

"Surprised, you say?"

No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.

You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.

Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.

"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"

Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.

"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"

You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.

"No,"

"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"

"Definitely not, then,"

He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.

It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.

"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.

Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"

There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.

"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"

"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"

You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"

"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"

"Then... who is?"

Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"

Ah.

If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.

This might take the cake, though.

"I didn't even know-"

"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"

"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"

"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"

"This is... quite the turn of events,"

"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"

You can only grimace at that.

Malleus' Ending

During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.

Not that it mattered. Not this time.

One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.

"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.

Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"

Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.

Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.

"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.

You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...

"Yes,"

Oh.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.

Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"

"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."

Oddly profound.

You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.

"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"

Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.

And the, he smiles.

"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"

What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"

"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"

He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"

You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.

"Yes, it does,"

[nadvs]

both sinners (part three) (end)

pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug use

summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You stagger backwards, hitting the table behind you, as you watch what’s happening in front of you in disbelief.

Rafe is crazed, punching the man who touched you over and over and over again.

“What now, bitch?” he shouts over the music. “Try and touch her now!”

One of the bouncers comes rushing towards the booth and holds Rafe back. It’s a struggle, with Rafe overpowering him and getting one more punch in, before a second bouncer helps to constrain him.

You watch them push him away. Rafe looks to meet your eyes, his chest heaving and his mouth ajar, as he gets pushed out of the club.

You blink in incredulity, unsure of what to do, until you finally go backstage into the dressing room to regain your composure.

You’ve never seen someone so angry over something someone else did to you.

You know what happens to guys that get thrown out. Rafe won’t be let back in for at least the night. It’s possible he doesn’t get let in ever again.

You pull your phone out of your locker and text him: i’m off at 11. we can meet somewhere?

You go back out onto the stage, looking for another customer to make your money and try to shake off what just happened, at least for the rest of your shift.

After work, you meet Rafe at the address he texted you after he was kicked out. He booked a room at a five-star hotel.

“You know, you didn’t have to start swinging,” you tell him when he meets you in the lobby, a coy smile on your face. “We have bouncers for that.”

“They’re obviously doing a great fucking job,” he snips sarcastically. “He grabbed you twice.”

“And I slapped him twice,” you reply. He shakes his head in irritation, taking your hand to lead you to the elevators. Thinking about watching you get touched like that makes the anger swirl in him all over again.

“Not hard enough.”

“So protective,” you tease.

Rafe pushes the top button. You smirk. Of course he got the penthouse suite.

“You realize if they remember what you look like, they might never let you back in, right?” you say as the elevator doors close, leaving you completely alone in the enclosed space.

“Strip at another club, then,” he rasps, leaning down and dragging his hand off of yours to squeeze your ass.

“You think it’s that easy?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“What place wouldn’t want you?” Rafe asks, gripping harder as he pulls you against him, his lips an inch away from yours.

The way he looks at you makes you feel like he’s utterly obsessed with you. It’s addictive.

The elevator doors open and he slaps your ass to usher you out.

The suite he booked is massive, covered in marble surfaces and gold decor. Rafe leads you through the foyer to the bedroom, where the city lights glimmer behind floor-to-ceiling windows. The place is exquisite.

“Couldn’t you have found something nicer, baby?” you joke, turning to look at him.

He scoffs a chuckle as he closes the distance, hands already up your skirt. He’s been turned on since you stepped on stage hours ago, imagining how hard he’s going to fuck you.

Rafe kneads your ass before roughly pulling the skirt up to your waist. He thinks back to the way the sheer fabric of the dress you wore on stage hugged your body under the club’s lights.

“You know what?” he says.

“What?” Your breath hitches as his hand presses up against your middle.

“I’m gonna buy you more of those slutty little outfits.” His voice is low. “So while you’re dancing up there, you think about who bought you what you’re wearing and who fucks you.”

By the way his cock is hardening against you and the way his breath is spreading on your skin in shallow pants, you can tell he gets off on spoiling you.

You lick your lips and tilt your head, nudging your nose against his.

“I’m the only one fucking you, right?” he mutters, his fingers pressing harder. You love how frequently he likes confirming it.

“Why would I need anyone else?” you reply, loving how you can rile him up.

When his fingers spread your lips apart, you exhale shakily.

“Only I can play with this pussy, yeah?” He rubs over your wetness and finds your clit, making your knees weak.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Yes.”

“You gonna dance for me, baby?” Rafe rasps. “I’ll give you more tonight than your customers make in a year.”

You nod, words escaping you. You feel him unzip your skirt, the fabric dropping around your feet. You pull your top over your head, left in just a bra and panties, and his eyes take you in as if it’s the first time he’s seeing you.

“Damn,” he huffs. It’s unbelievable how much you turn him on. The fact that you know how sexy you are, dancing every night for men who you don’t let touch you. Only he can touch you. “How are you real?”

You giggle, regaining some composure.

“Sit down,” you say, looking at the big bed.

“Over there,” Rafe tells you, pulling you to follow him. He takes you to the bathroom, where you spot a baggie of coke beside the jacuzzi.

Once you strip down between hard, wet kisses, you sink into the hot, bubbling water. You straddle him and he gazes at you through heavy lids.

“You want a bump?” Rafe asks, tilting his head towards the coke. He already took a hit before you arrived.

You nod, craving the feeling of elation the coke gives you. He grips your waist with one hand while he reaches for the baggie with the other.

After he makes a line on the edge of the tub for you, you lean over and inhale the powder, giving him an opportunity to palm your tits.

He loves the way your skin glistens from the water as you settle back on his lap. Your head is swimming with euphoria as you kiss him, his fingers rubbing over your nipples. You start to writhe, rolling your hips and giving him a lap dance.

You dip your hand under the water’s surface, gripping his firm length, prompting him to angle his head back with a groan over the sound of the tub’s jets, his voice echoing through the room.

You can’t wait any longer. You perch up to slowly sink onto him, his tip dipping into your entrance.

“Fuck,” Rafe huffs. Your hands are on his shoulders as you take your time, breathing through the pressure of his cock stretching you.

“Good girl,” he groans. “You can take it all. I know you can.”

You bite your lip as you finally reach his base, dizzy from how deep he hits you, enveloped by hot water.

You start to rock on him and his mouth locks around the peak of your breast. He loves the feeling of pure sin while he fucks you, both of you high and rolling.

You rake his hair back, leaning so your chest presses against his forehead as you start to bounce on him, panting in his ear.

Rafe’s hands curve around your ass as you roll on top of him, the water splashing as you quicken your pace. You start moaning and he squeezes you harder, his face contorting in pleasure.

You moan in his ear as you come to a fast orgasm, clenching around him in flutters. He hardens inside of you soon after, cumming in rhythmic throbs.

“Goddamn,” he groans, thinking back to all the parties he noticed you at. “I can’t believe this is what I was missing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you were this much fun.”

You giggle and the sight of your smile makes him smile back.

“Now you know,” you say with a shrug.

You’re absolutely spent when you lie on the plush bed, body bare and wet, not bothering to cover up with a towel. Rafe loves the sight of you like this and he leans down, smoothing over your cheek with his hand as he kisses you.

“We’re getting room service,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“The most expensive thing on the menu,” you joke. He’s unfazed, pacing to the phone surely to order exactly that.

“Wait,” you laugh. “Let me see the menu.”

Half-naked and high, you and Rafe sit on top of the bed, the television on in the background, eating at midnight.

It must be the coke and the sex and the delicious five-star food, but you get the impulse to ask what you’ve been wondering all night.

“We both know you’re the only guy I’m seeing,” you say, “but am I the only girl?”

“Obviously,” he says simply.

“It’s not so obvious,” you say with a laugh.

“Now it is,” Rafe says. You appreciate his direct approach.

“Why do you deal?” you ask. Seeing his house just once would tell anyone he comes from a wealthy family. He doesn’t exactly need to be selling drugs.

Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks.

“Why, you wanna go into business?” he quips.

“I think I make enough dating you,” you respond with a laugh. Rafe likes how exclusive it sounds. Dating. Meaning you’re his only.

“I like making my own money,” he says honestly. “And I like having coke around when I want it.”

“You’re a no bullshit type of guy.” Rafe appreciates the compliment.

“Why do you strip?” he asks.

“Why, you wanna go into business?” you echo.

“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs, nudging you. You decide you’ve eaten enough, letting the gentle push shift you to lie on your back again.

“You’re hot. You’d do great as a stripper,” you tease, raising your arms above your head and sighing. He takes in the vision of you lying like this, relaxed and joking around with him, and he realizes he hasn’t felt this happy in a while.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Rafe says.

“It’s great money,” you reply. “Especially if you have a rich drug dealer obsessed with you. It’s funny because you’re the only customer I’d dance for for free.”

He laughs again and you look over at him, sitting up shirtless, and smile. It feels like something out of a movie. A drug dealer and his stripper girlfriend laughing together in an extravagant hotel room.

Rafe moves the paper containers off the bed and sinks between your legs, laying his head on your chest.

You run your hands over his firm, warm shoulders and sigh at the sensation he gives you. He seems to live for the next 24 hours only, and so do you, and this is why this works so well.

He gives you a wad of cash before you part ways.

Your next shift is a few nights after your time in the hotel and Rafe is relieved the bouncers don’t recognize him. He settles in a cushioned chair in the dark club, knowing if they denied him entry, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and it would get ugly.

His heart skips when you walk out in stage wearing a black lacy set he bought you. You drift around the pole like a goddess, slowly undressing, making him hard in seconds.

Rafe looks away when you approach a man sitting in a booth. He might break someone’s jaw if he watches you dance on them, especially if they touch you.

He knows your interest in these guys isn’t genuine, remembering how you told him he’s the only one you’d dance for for free. This will just be a shitty part of dating you, and compared to the good parts, he can take this.

A few minutes later, you walk over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” you say over the throbbing music. “Thought I should tell you that guy just asked for a private room. Don’t freak out.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens as he takes a pull of his drink. You notice his irritation immediately, leaning over to speak into his ear.

“This is just work,” you say. “I can’t wait to clock out so we can fuck like we did in that hotel room.” His lips quirk up in a smile.

“I’ll break his hands if he tries anything,” he warns. You believe him.

After your shift, you and Rafe head to a party at one of the mansions sitting on the north side of the island.

But instead of leading you to the front door, he pulls you to the dark, empty shoreline, and you can tell by the look on his face that he’s turned on.

“On the beach?” you say, amused.

“You said we’d fuck, didn’t you?”

When you find a place on the sand, the night sky nearly starless, the waves crashing, you pull each other’s bottoms off with fervor.

Rafe’s on top of you, breaths shallow as he nips at your shoulder, guiding himself into you with a hunger deep inside him. It seems the more he has you, the more desperate he gets.

“I was hard all fucking night watching you dance,” he mutters, sinking into you, inch by inch.

“Fuck,” you whisper, tilting your hips, sinking into the sand. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Who else can do this to you?”

“Nobody,” you answer. “I’m all yours, baby.”

“Yeah, you fucking are,” he says, pulling back and thrusting into you. His hand grips around your neck as he pounds you, claiming you with every slam.

You mean it. You’re his, happily.

After you make your way up to the house party, Rafe pulls you onto his lap the second he finds a seat on the massive balcony facing the darkened beach where you just fucked.

A man comes by asking for a gram and Rafe pulls out his bagged coke, trading it for bills. After the deal, he places a few twenties in your pocket, kissing the side of your neck.

You still feel the sand on your skin as he skims your leg with rough fingertips.

Maybe you’d be ashamed doing this with another man, being paid for sex and getting spoiled and doing drugs and fucking every chance you get.

But with Rafe, the sin is so sweet that it doesn’t feel wrong at all. You’ll happily live in the next 24 hours with him, over and over and over again.

(the end)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[magalhaessims]

DEL SOL BOULEVARD - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

NOT CC FREE 

Lot Type: Thrift And Bubble Tea Store | Retail

Size: 30x30

World: Del Sol Valley

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

Origin ID: MagalhaesSims (remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.

Charly Pancakes: Lavish | Miscellanea | Modish | Munch 01 & 02 | Soak | The Lighthouse Collection || TheClutterCat: Baby Boo | Dandy Diary | Mermaid Mansion | On The Edge | Snuggle Set | Sunny Sundae || Felixandre: Berlin | Chateau | Grove Set | Shop The Look 01 - 03 | Soho || Harrie: Brownstone | Brutalist Bathroom | Halcyon Kitchen | Klean | Kwatei | Octave | Shop The Look 02 & 03 | Spoons || House Of Harlix: Baysic Collection & Bathroom | Harluxe | Kichen 2 Point 1 | Livin'Rum | Orjanic | The Bafroom | The Kichen || KKB-MM: My Cherish Things: Kitchen || LittleDica: Arcane | Chic Bathroom | Delicious Kitchen | Greasy Goods | H&B Store | Rise&Grind | Sleek Slumber || Max20: Cozy Bathroom Kit | Poolside Lounge (Plants) || MLys: Pufferhead Stuff Pack || Peacemaker-ic: Bowed Bedroom | Bowed Living | Creta Kitchen | Furrowed Plaster Wall | Geometric Mural Wall || Pierisim: Auntie Vera Bathroom | Calderone | Coldbrew Coffee Shop | Combles | David Apartment | MCM House | Oak House | Pantry Party | Stefan | Tilable Kitchen | Woodland Ranch || S-imagination: Nota Living Room | Rutland Kitchen || Sixam-CC: Home Office (Printer) | Hotel Bedroom (Hair Brush) | Private School (Water Fountain) || Someone-Elsa: Passion By Judith Ward Collection || Surely-Sims: Kitchen Of Tomorrow (Nuka Cola) || Syboulette: Fabulous | Happy Stairways | Love Is In The Air | Neighborly | Nothing To Wear | Pavilion || Taurus Design: Judith Living Room || Tuds: Beam Living | Ema Living

The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!

HOW TO MAKE THIS LOT FUNCTIONAL:

For the Boba Tea Store, I've added the ThriftTea Bubble Tea Counter created by @srslysims. It features the same animation and interactions as the vanilla version but without the bulky counter it comes with.

For the Clothing Store, I recommend using the Fashion Store Mod by Nando. I've placed interactive mirrors in the changing cabins so your Sims can actually buy clothes from them.

For the Sephora Store, I'm utilizing the Functional Perfumes by @aroundthesims along with the Saleabration Store Mod by @ravasheencc, allowing your Sims to buy and use them! Additionally, I've included the New Styling Station (Chair) by @aroundthesims so your Sims can enjoy a little makeover at the store.

For the Bookstore, I'm incorporating both the Retail Therapy Mod by @ravasheencc and the Self-Service Kiosk by @aroundthesims, enabling your Sims to purchase books within the store. You don't have to have both mods installed if you don't want to; either one will suffice!

For a more immersive experience with this lot, I highly suggest downloading LittleMsSam’s Auto Employees Mod. With this mod, NPCs will automatically work at the lot once you place the correct object for them to appear.

Make sure to read all the information available on the mods' pages in order to ensure they work properly in your game!

My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!

Thanks: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds @charlypancakes @felixandresims @harrie-cc @kkbsmm @littledica @peacemaker-ic @pierisim @s-imagination @imfromsixam @someone-elsa @simkoos @surely-sims @syboubou @taurusdesign @tudtuds

[knavesflames]

Childhood friend Arlecchino and Reader that Arle never truly found her to be a friend, despite the reader saying they are and Arle did kinda ditch em during middle school. Until college rolls around, the newfound (or unrealized) sentiments towards Reader become more clear to her - infatuated.

I feel like I kind of strayed from this because I’m totally into angst rn but if wanted it to be sexual I can indeed make another part OR I can also make an even angstier ending. Anyway!! Here it is.

Contents: just sad reader, Arlecchino is lowkey mean in middle school, one (sexual) slap.

Word count: 1672

Writing (kind of NSFW at the end) under the cut!!

You skipped up to the small girl who sits reading on a bench, holding a small pile of rocks and a wide smile on your face. You don’t have many friends, you’re too quiet, too ‘weird’, so when you befriended Arlecchino, you actually began looking forward to school each day. It was almost too good to be true. She’s been a bit distant with you the last couple of weeks but that’s fine, right? She’s probably stuck into that book of hers, her nose has always been in a book or playing with insects.

“Look!! I found rocks that matched your eyes and I thought they were cool, you can-“

“Stop it.”

“..huh? Stop what?”

“Stop bothering me. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

You pause at that. In a sense, she is busy reading, but can’t she put her book down for two seconds? You haven’t properly spoken in weeks.

“Yeah but I was excited about the rocks. I can never find any that remind me of you and now I have.”

“Okay? I am still busy.”

“But we’re friends.”

A sigh leaves Arlecchino’s lips, and she finally looks up from that book.

“No, we aren’t. When did I ever say we were friends?”

You feel your shoulders sinking, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips. Your hand falls to your side, the rocks held tightly within the constraints of your fist.

“No, I.. you didn’t, but I just assumed that.. I don’t know. I thought we were friends.”

“You assumed wrong. I don’t like you anymore, you’re weird, and you never stop talking. I don’t want to talk.”

Your cheeks puff slightly before you let out a puff of air. Your teeth graze your lip, biting down firmly as you stand there in silence, processing. Weird. There’s that word again, no? You feel a sort of pain rise in your chest, but you swallow it.

“Okay. I’m sorry. You can keep the rocks.”

The rocks are placed onto the table beside her, an assortment of black and white and grey all decorating the rocks. And one, one black one with a red cross on it, clearly drawn. You just wanted to make her feel included, everyone was finding rocks that matched their eyes. You keep staring at her for a while longer, but she doesn’t look back up, so you turn.

“I’ll tell my mom you can’t come for dinner, then.”

Arlecchino finally looks up when she hears that. God, she hears the hurt you’re masking, the tears threatening to spill over your lashes. She shouldn’t have been so crass with you, she knows that, but that’s who she is. Blunt, and she was sick of having to pretend. She watches as your figure shrinks towards the school library, where she first met you. You didn’t have any friends, so you ate there. It was better than sitting at that dreaded buddy bench and waiting for someone to ask you to be their friend. As you walk, you pass said bench, a feeling of slight dread rising. To the library, then.

It’s then that Arlecchino notices the rock you drew on, her face softening for just a second. She brushes the rocks off of the table, pocketing the one you drew on before continuing her book without a word. She moves seats in class after that, and she’s not unaware of your eyes that burn sadly into her as she picks up her books. They’re rimmed red and slightly glassy, and it stabs her heart. You two never talk again after that. She goes back to being the girl at the back of the class that enjoys being alone, that enjoys the misconceptions people make about her. You sit in the middle of the class, staring down at your textbooks, silently yearning to be part of the conversations the kids around you have.

Each year passes and both of you grow older. She kept that rock, it’s in her pocket always. It’s become some sort of lucky charm for her, and god she can’t help but stare at you in class as you become more beautiful with every passing year. By senior year, you’re the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. She can’t stop thinking about you. She finds herself stalking your social media when she’s at home, her finger always hovering over the like button, her fingers always hovering over the send message button before deleting the entire paragraph. She knows you’re both off to college soon, she’ll most likely never see you again, and yet she still can’t bring herself to admit her feelings. She can still see the hurt in your eyes from that day, the way you dismissed it like it was nothing only to cry in secret after. She dreams of you at night. Dreams of how she regrets what she said and the way she said it, dreams of her holding your hand and looking at rocks together, dreams of your whimpers as she fucks you. She hates that last dream. The dream that gets stuck in her brain constantly, so much so that she nearly failed her biology final. On graduation day, she makes a promise to herself that she’ll never think of you again.

But she does. Fast forward to junior year of college and you’re walking with your headphones on, looking down at your phone until you collide with someone, a harsh “watch it” in your ear.

“Sorry! I’m sor- ah. Sorry.”

You look up into the same red and black eyes you once considered a friend. How stupid. Out of all the colleges she could have possibly chosen, she chose the one you chose too.

“It’s fine. Just.. Watch it. You’re as clumsy as you ever were.”

“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t looking.”

Arlecchino swallows the nerves rising in her body and finally makes a conversation with you, her voice blunt, awkward.

“How have you been?”

“Fine, thank you. You?”

She scowls slightly as your dismissive tone reaches her ears. You were never like this before.

“Good. I’m good. What are you majoring in?”

“I’m going into geology.”

Of course it’s geology. She didn’t expect anything less from you, really.

“Fun. I’m going to study insects.”

“Go figure.”

“I’m sorry. For what I said back then. I know I hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“You cried.”

She has you there. She saw your eyes when she moved seats in class, it wasn’t exactly easy to hide the redness. You pause, not saying anything for a while.

“We weren’t friends. We aren’t friends. What does it have to do with you?”

“You were lonely and it made me rethink.”

“Weird people are meant to be lonely, don’t you think?”

You’ve carried those words with you ever since. It didn’t really matter when other children called you that, but the one person you considered a friend.. well, it hurt.

“I just.. didn’t appreciate the eccentricity. That’s all. I miss you.”

“Okay.”

“I dream about you.”

“It isn’t like you to be this emotional. Do you feel guilty because I was lonely afterwards or because you want to clear your conscience?”

“Both.”

As honest as ever. You take a deep breath, the music still playing in your headphones that now hang around your neck.

“We can talk in my dorm room.”

You turn on your heel, walking straight to the block of dorms. At least she’s not in the same block, she thinks. She can at least avoid you if this goes bad. The thought of going to your room though.. her dreams of fucking you have only come back, and stronger. Your room is cozy, so very you.

“Is that.. KISS?”

She points to the poster on your desk. She hates that she’s familiar with them, because she hates that she’s more like you than she could ever want to be.

“Yep.”

“I like them too.”

She gingerly sits on your bed, letting her bag drop with a thud. As you walk over to join her, in all your clumsy glory you kick the bag by mistake as you stumble over it, watching as the rock you once painted on tumbles out. Silence.

“You still have that.”

“I never got rid of it.”

Her heart beats faster. So does yours. Your face, so beautiful in the light of your room, the way your hair shines, the way your eyes have a mix of sadness, anger and happiness in them, all of them fighting to take over.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her words cut through your thoughts. You look up at her and you can’t deny the way your heart flutters as you look at her. You suppose you’ve always felt the way you do about her, that it’s why it hurt you so much when she said you weren’t friends. And once again, your mind is brought out of your thoughts by a sudden crash of her lips on yours. A surprised sound comes from your throat, but you don’t fight against it.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t.”

“You’re here now.”

Hands wrap around your waist, tightening and pulling you closer to her as her lips leave yours and pepper kisses on your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and then your shoulder. And you don’t stop her. Your hands entangle themselves in her hair. What the hell has gotten into you? And her, for that matter, as her hand slides under your shirt and you feel the coldness of her skin on your stomach. Your own hands shed her jacket and she whispers against your skin.

“Let me.”

“Hm?”

“Let me do what I do in my dreams.”

“What’s that, then? Dissect insects?”

A gentle, sensual, almost desperate and loving slap of your face as she grips your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes, those ones you avoided for so long. You wonder how she knew exactly what to do to turn you on.

“Let me fuck you and show you how sorry I am. How much I missed you.”

[xxsugarbonesxx]

Librarian Miguel x Flower Shop Owner

tags: tooth rotting amounts of fluff and some suggestive bits. No one is spider man in this AU, mainly just character set up stuff :3 and no gender is specified for reader any1 can read it

hopefully this will be me getting back into writing since i took a break from it lol (this was done in 30-40 minutes at 2am so sorry if it isnt too high quality) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the little rural town of Nueva, there was a library, it was owned and operated by the single hottest man in town, and probably the whole state, Miguel O’Hara. 

Miguel O’Hara was a simple man really, he ironed his clothes, did sudoku on the train and ate a bagel with light cream cheese, an assortment of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries every morning every day for breakfast. 

He took his coffee dark with the littlest splash of cream and one sugar cube. Two sugar cubes would be just reckless. Coffee could be substituted with Camellia flower tea when he was out of coffee, peppermint for when he had a migraine.

All the women in town would sing his praises to another. Little was known about him besides that after the death of his daughter he moved to Nueva and opened his library. In front of his library was a small community garden and a bench dedicated to his dear daughter by the double doors. 

No one brought it up, no one asked, and he liked it that way. He liked the simplicity of Nueva. The air was cleaner, the people there warmer and the ringing in his ears seemingly disappeared when he moved there. 

He liked to keep his library neat and tidy, he had plenty of rules set in place to follow…children's books in the front and adult books in the back. The spicer content was shelved by the cook books so no kids found them. You are to only use the various lamps in the library, never the big light. It totally ruined the cozy atmosphere he had set up. 

Jazz, Frank Sinatra, and Selena Quintanilla was the only music allowed to be played, he didn’t like any other types of music. Coffee was free as long as you returned your mug to the table his coffee maker was on once you were done. No talking louder than a whisper, and only pet the library cat if you had all your shots. That was mostly a joke, but Miguel didn’t want people who weren’t up to date on their immunizations touching his cat.

It was almost closing time, and there were only a few people left. The familiar cast of characters Miguel had come to know now wandering the maze of shelves. Ben Riley was using one of the community monitors. Sending emails back and forth to his girlfriend in Canada. Only god knew if she was real or not.

When Miguel asked why Ben just bought his own laptop or computer to converse with his girlfriend, Ben explained he didn’t want to go through the trouble of setting up a laptop when he could just walk to the library to use one for free.

Miguel couldn’t help but hold back the fattest eye roll known to man when he heard that.

Peter Parker was looking for cookbooks for the dinner he was gonna make to win his ex wife back. Stressing over the perfect dish to make as young Mayday Parker debated whether she wanted to check out GoodNight Moon or Skippyjon Jones for her bedtime story tonight.

Then there was Pavitr Prabhakar and Gayatri Singh. Debatably his most adorable regulars. Miguel would watch the two teenagers stumble through their awkward study dates, he couldn't help but feel the littlest bit proud of Pav when he finally worked up the courage and kissed her. 

But his favorite, hands down, was you. You owned the little flower shop across the street from his library next to the bakery. On the opening, you had brought him a bunch of sunflowers tied with a pearl white ribbon as a gift. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he was actually allergic to sunflowers and graciously took the generous gift with a stuffy nose and kind smile.

You would come waltzing in, batting your eyelashes like you were auditioning for a mascara commercial. At first he had no interest in romance, but you were just so…kind, caring, loving, compassionate. You were so slow and soft spoken, giving him the space he needed while he grieved and was there afterwards to hug him and dry his tears. 

At the beginning, you’d only stop by and help him in the library or check out a novel or two, but as you became a frequent visitor, you stopped coming just to help him…and started coming just to see him.

He remembered how one day, you had arrived at the library as usual. A perplexed look on your darling face with your hands behind your back. You had spent all of the night before carefully crafting a special bouquet of lilies and tulips. Making sure there wasn't anything in it he was allergic to.

After dancing around the subject, you had slowly confessed her feelings to him. 

The next hour was spent in the back room of the library. Feverishly groping another and kissing frantically, your glasses kept sliding against each other’s as you both ran to rip each other's clothes off another's bodies.

Miguel was still that simple man he was all those years ago when he moved to the sleepy town of Nueva. The idea of building a real relationship with someone scared him from how many times he'd been hurt in the past and the fresh wounds from the death of his child.

But now he has you. He has someone to come home to besides the empty walls of his little cottage home. He has a significant other to fill that void and to lift him up, someone to be his lock screen picture.

Someone to tell all the things he’s learned from the regulars at the library. He told you about Ben getting catfished, Peter winning MJ over with homemade ratatouille and a promise, about Pav and Gayatri’s kiss while the both of you snuggled up on the couch over a bottle of strawberry wine.

You'd both started the relationship a little rocky, not knowing whether this was right with the things Miguel was working through then. But it soon proved to be the best decision either of you could have made. 

He had your wedding picture next to Gabriela's school picture day portrait on his desk. 

His favorite parts of his day were when you’d walk from your shop to the library on your lunch break to eat together, and in the evenings when he'd read the book you were currently reading out loud to you in the evenings, before going to sleep together. 

He was still that simple man, but now he’d share his bagels with you. He’d offer to iron your clothes for you, and even when you didn’t understand, he showed you how to play sudoku on the long train rides. Even though you were just nodding along to hear him talk about something he enjoyed.

[fictionfixations]

lilia dorm uniform vignette

haha

theyre both so done with lilia at this point

this entire vignette they just- Sebek & Silver: what. …??? Malleus: is used to this Lilia: doing what he does

NO

yknow. lilia did leave sebek and silver alone to like. survive. for a time or something like that.

LMFAO SEBEK

oh my god lilia

sob

((BOOK 7 SPOILERS AND SPECULATION. mention of JP card)) (the spoilers come from my thoughts, not in the actual vignette)

Spoilers start now!

okay. so. im sad. but is it just me who could possibly see parallels between this and silver? (lilia treating his whole situation so much more nonchalantly and silver just sobbing like 'i still want you in my life :(((')

also i wonder if we at one point end up meeting who silvers parents were. id assume it hasnt happened at all in JP though, or i'd probably be heavily spoiled because so much JP TWST is on my timeline (this includes book 7 spoilers LMFAO i cant escape. savanaclaw rook 👀. i only know the basics of book 7 JP content [that is, not at all. ive been spoiled like the next few chapters-ish after EN content [aka night in the woods(?) chapter 55 i think). the second a new card comes out its shoved EVERYWHERE in my face. but thats about it! mostly.)

admittedly was so prepared for malleus to go on for a bit at the end that could. idk help us get a different view on his actions in book 7. guess not tho, oop.

(..Also its probably meant to be "given what he said" but the actual dialogue says "give what he said" and im too tired to be making corrections to canon dialogue in the event i might be wrong [its 3 am])

im so saving the sebek respecting silver line though LMFAO

like out of context you think he's saying it to silver

or like. saying it after silver does some badass thing but no.

its because of lilia's parenting.

hehehehe

[emmcarstairs]

The Heroine's Journey: Lucy MacLean

“The feminine journey is a journey in which the hero gathers the courage to face death and endure the transformation toward being reborn as a complete being in charge of her own life.” — 45 Master Characters

In her book 45 Master Characters, Victoria Schmidt outlines the steps and phases in the Feminine Journey as seen in many traditional stories such as myths and fairy tales. Unlike The Hero’s Journey, which focuses on the external, The Heroine’s Journey is about inner exploration.

In the following analysis, I will examine Lucy MacLean’s journey so far in Fallout (2024). I believe it will be interesting to identify at what stage she is by the end of S1 which will give us an idea of what likely awaits her in S2.

Note: This analysis is written for fun. It is my own reading of the character and her journey. You’re welcome to have your own. Spoilers ahead!

Schmidt’s Heroine’s Journey has nine stages:

ACT 1 Containment:

1. The Illusion of the Perfect World

2. The Betrayal or Realisation

3. The Awakening or Preparing for the Journey

4. The Descent – Passing the Gates of Judgement

ACT 2 Transformation:

5. The Eye of the Storm

6. Death – All Is Lost

7. Support

ACT 3 Emergence:

8. Rebirth – The Moment of Truth

9. Full Circle – The Return to the Perfect World

The Illusion of Perfect World

ACT 1

2. The Betrayal or Realization

In the first episode, we meet Lucy content in Vault 33. We are shown a whole montage of her perfect life in her perfect shelter. It’s designed to protect her. Outside is dangerous but in her bubble, she is safe and sound. But is this good enough?

Despite her obvious naivety, we get a sense she is after something else. In her first scene, she applies for marriage, which is telling of her being on the threshold of adolescence and adulthood. Now, if marriage is really what she is after, or if it is something she relies on to fit in the community she lives in, is up for debate.

The thing is, the heroine knows deep down that her little world is not perfect. And she subconsciously seeks freedom so she can exercise her growth. Perhaps the prospect of marriage is the closest to freedom she has known in the vault. Or perhaps it is the thrill of meeting someone from outside her containment. In any case, she wants change; her shelter has turned into a cage.

Here comes the moment when Lucy’s perfect world is shattered. On her wedding night, right after the consummation of marriage (the symbolic passing to adulthood), she is betrayed by her husband. This is the so-called “inciting incident”. He turns out to be a raider from the surface. Now, not only is she betrayed by him personally, but she is betrayed by her idea of the outside world. He is her first conscious contact with the world outside the vault. And it is a far cry from what she has believed in.

Not only that but the danger has breached the walls of her shelter; she can’t ignore it. It turns out that her perfect world and the system she has lived in are broken. Her attempt at freedom ends with her husband’s hands around her neck. The history and ethics lessons have done little to prepare her for this. So a part of her begins to wonder what actually lies out there.

To top it off, her father, who is an Overseer and the biggest authority by her glass bubble’s standards, is drugged and taken hostage before her own eyes. She encounters the villain for the first time in the face of Moldaver. With her convictions shattered and her dad gone, she must make a choice.

3. The Awakening, or Preparing for the Journey

Lucy’s world is in ruins, metaphorically and literally. The others’ refusal to send a search party only reinforces the idea that her world has let her down. This is her awakening. She decides to take the active road and do something about it herself, hoping to rebuild what was lost.

From the story’s perspective, she has to find her dad. But as screenwriter Robertson-Dworet puts it: “As much as she leaves to find her father in the pilot, she also wants to fuckin' know what's out that door.” Moldaver also remarks in the final episode that Lucy’s curiosity greatly motivates her to leave the vault.

Given the raiders’ attack and with no established authority to prohibit her from doing so, she ventures to do just that. With the help of Norm and Chet, she gathers tools and prepares for the journey. What she isn’t aware of but will soon find out is that no material tools will help her with what’s waiting outside. She has yet to learn to trust herself and her qualities which will ultimately help her. It’s time for the trial by fire.

4. The Descent – Passing the Gates of Judgement

ACT 2

The descent may not be a literal one. In Lucy’s case, it’s ascent. She looks behind her as the door is closed and locked. There is no way back, only ahead. Often, the descent is about passing the gates of the Underworld. One of the first shots outside the vault shows us bones and a skull on the ground. The Wasteland is very much portrayed as the Underworld with its own set of rules.

From here on, the real journey begins. The heroine faces the consequences of her life-changing decision in the form of tests that will determine her worth. She might be advised to return to her perfect world, as Dr. Siggi Wilzig does after she lights the bonfire. After she refuses, he tells her that she will have to adapt and become a "different animal altogether," summarising the point of this stage of transformation in her journey. 

She will then try to use the tools she has at her disposal—literal and metaphorical—but they won’t work. With each encounter, she will lose weapons or belongings until she is left with nothing of the things she thought would help her. Think of the filtered water Lucy loses or how her dart doesn’t work against the Ghoul. She begins to look progressively worse as her jumpsuit gets dirtier and bloodier. She even loses her trigger finger. 

The heroine may also face societal prejudice. Lucy is stunned by people’s opinions about Vault dwellers and Vault ideals in general. She is being proven again and again that her sensibilities, HR manuals, and ethics don’t work in the Wastes. 

The heroine has to rely on her courage and instincts. She must let go of all control and surrender herself to the descent. After being stripped of everything, she must face her demons. Lucy strives to always do the right thing, but she needs to embrace the fact the fact that the right thing doesn’t always come in a neat little package. The world is more than right and wrong.

I believe the scene that best illustrates the first time Lucy actively trusts her instincts and by doing so, survives on her own, is Super Duper Mart. She uses threats, uses a makeshift weapon, holds a hostage (it’s a robot but still, it’s a big step for her), and most significantly, for the first time, murders another to ensure her own survival. Even though Martha had no humanity left, her murder is important in Lucy’s journey because her death becomes synonymous with doing the right thing, not for a cause or the greater good, but for Lucy herself. 

5. The Eye of the Storm

She emerges victorious with her bloodied face and tank top, and this is the most disheveled state in which we have seen her. By helping out the Ghoul, she is the victor not only in terms of survival but also in terms of morality. She shows him that she is morally superior to him. She’s successfully beaten her demons this time without losing sight of her golden rule. 

Still, it has taken a lot out of her to survive. The heroine feels weary, reminiscing about easier times. She seeks to find the familiar comfort she once had and may consequently settle for something she doesn’t really want. 

After this mini-climax, the heroine evaluates and comes to terms with what just happened. She concludes that she handled things well. Having survived the danger, she gains a false sense of security. In Lucy’s journey, this stage coincides with her meeting Max and their experience in Vault 4. 

Finally, Lucy finds a person she can trust. The world feels a tad bit better with someone by her side. At the same time, she dreams of going back to her own perfect little world. It’s so lucky that they end up in another vault!

While Max discovers the joys of living a simple life, it’s interesting to observe Lucy’s behavior. Although she feels safe for a moment, she starts noticing the people and things around her. She’s become more perceptive than before. Try as she might, she can’t go back to her old ways due to her experience on the surface. She wants to feel safe, she wants to sleep with Max; she wants life to be simple again. But she can’t help but look twice over her shoulder. She feels uneasy and grows suspicious of everything around her. It’s the newly found survivor in her screaming at her to get out. 

Eventually, Lucy learns that she has made the wrong assumptions about Vault 4 because of her ignorance and her raw instincts. They leave the vault unscathed, with Lucy fantasizing about a future with her and Max living together back in her perfect world. Soon they find the head but are forced to separate. Lucy gets the head, the kiss, and the promise that Max will find her in Vault 33. It looks like the journey is nearing its end. But it’s only the beginning. 

6. Death – All Is Lost

The heroine believes that her journey will soon be over, but it is time for her to face her biggest fear yet. Lucy delivers the head and finds her dad, thinking they can safely go back to how things were. Then, all of a sudden, her world is spun on its axis once more. 

Schmidt notes that few female protagonists make it past the stage of their “death”. Some of them die in the literal sense, some go back to their old lives defeated, and others fall into a spiral of depression. I believe this is Lucy’s final stage in S1. What will become of her in S2? Let’s speculate!

She learns about her mother’s fate and about what her father did to Shady Sands. And perhaps most jarring to her is that her father really believes that he’s done the right thing by dropping a bomb over a thriving city. Lucy’s role model turns out to be a fraud. The ideals she has lived and fought for, too. And it’s Moldaver, the villain, who seems to be on the right side of the story, despite her murdering her fellow people. It looks like the world isn’t simply divided into right and wrong after all.

This is the ultimate betrayal that leaves the heroine’s thoughts in inner turmoil. She feels humiliated and confused. All this time, she’s lived in a perfectly constructed lie. The events build up to her mercy killing her own mother, which is exactly what the Ghoul did to Roger in front of her. Purnell says: "She's learned from him. She has turned into him." She faces the death of her old self.

7. Support

ACT 3 Emergence:

The heroine’s journey is about building bridges between the individual and the group. Her inner awakening leads to her being more open to the help of others and helping them in turn. She isn’t afraid of betrayal anymore because, at the end of the day, she has herself.

In Lucy’s final scenes in S1, we actually see the beginning of this stage with the Ghoul offering her to travel with him and find out more about the past. She leaves Max behind and goes with the Ghoul. According to Schmidt, it’s during this stage that the protagonist will accept herself as she is and go on to share her knowledge with others. She will define her own world without an external authority. Her journey of self-discovery will guide the others around her to make amends with their own problems. 

We have already seen the Ghoul’s influence on Lucy. In S2, I believe we’ll see how Lucy affects the Ghoul for the better by balancing his sharp edges. But before that, she will need his help to get herself up on her feet so that she can be reborn and come full circle in a new perfect world.

Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[performativezippers]

guys i may have just...finished the content edits on my book??? meaning all that's left is copyediting and pass pages?????

what the ACTUAL hell, you know??

i started writing books in 2018. i started trying to get published in 2019. i started writing this, my fourth whole ass novel, in May 2022, and now it's almost exactly two years later and it's 81,681 beautiful words, and one incredible day in approximately 18 months i'll hold it in my hands and maybe some of you will too, and that's so 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[video-game-luvr]

80's themed Honkai Star Rail!

A/N: Let me cook! Let me cook! These prompts will be made into yandere fics, if you guys enjoy it, the smut will come eventually.. If you folks dig it! Just be patient and let me cook! I haven't ever posted actual fics or series so my work isn't the best but I still hope you bunch enjoy it nonetheless! Feel free to correct me or tell me if it's OOC! I am always open to improving! English was not my first language.

My ask box is open for ideas and thirsts! Maybe an 80s slasher theme next? A serial killer is on the loose! Who could be behind the mass disappearances!

Neighbourhood dilfy uncle Gallagher, who is friends with your parents... This prompt would also work so well with Jingyuan! Your parents just trust their friends so much, don't they?

Welt being that hot librarian with a mature charm. You can't help but gaze at his veiny and calloused hands, holding that book, and scrutinizing everything about the contents of the book.

Sneaking out at night to skate around with Caelus and Luka!

Dan Heng who is part of a band, as a bassist. Walking around everywhere with his headphones on. Talking about music with him, and him sharing all his favourite songs with you by giving you a custom made cassette! (Though it was probably pirated)

Going to a cassette store and befriending Dan Heng gives you butterflies. The usually cold and hard-to-approach Dan Heng was now your friend!

Gepard being the local heartthrob, he is such a sweet man, always helping his neighbours with carrying their groceries to their house. Funnily enough, this man is also really clumsy. Your mom asked for his help in changing a light bulb, only for him to fall over from the ladder, luckily he didn't get any major injuries from it.

More about Gepard, he is part of the baseball club! His broad figure and precise aim makes him perfect for it! Just about everyone has a crush on this brawny oaf! He is such a himbo. He can definitely do no harm!

Rock star Blade/Yingxing! It just makes so much sense! Especially if his band is punk, definitely an alternative band for sure, even if it's not punk. Just cheering for him with all your heart, and seeing him throw a wink your way.. Orz "Meet me behind stage." He mouthed to you. The cold arrogant star took a liking to you! Now this is exciting!

Ah yes, Sunday. The epitome of a perfect man. A role model for everyone in school. (Probably a preppy private school) His drive to keep things in order is commendable. All of his perfect execution as a school president isn't limited to the school. He also most definitely goes to church and organizes youth events, leading the choir, you name it!

However, under that flawless persona. Sunday is probably hiding some deep dark secrets. Who knows what that man is thinking.(It's giving... cult leader!)

Playing videogames with Caelus! Who has been your trusty neighbour for years! Your first encounter was him digging into piles of junk, you were really weirded out at first, and probably refused to play with him. But with enough nagging from your mom, you slowly warmed up to the idea of being friends with that weird silly neighbour of yours. From that point on, you guys started to play videogames together! Caelus has started to change over time, he seems to not be able to focus on videogames anymore.. His face oddly becomes red when he catches you gazing at his face. Without your knowledge, someone's love has started to bud and bloom. (He wants you so bad! You might regret befriending this weird kid!)

Himeko is the absolute hot aunt! The resident MILF! Every time she talks with your mom, you can't help but stare at how beautiful she is. She can't help but tease you about how adorable you look with that flushed face of yours. Your mother trusts her with all her heart. I'm sure she wouldn't do anything twisted.

Argenti, an art student. His vision of what beauty is is directly painted onto the canvas. He is incredibly passionate about his vision. A beautiful birth, a beautiful life, a beautiful end to life. He may seem a bit eccentric at times, but he means well... Right? (He is probably a cult member... Not Sunday's though. He is a follower of the path of beauty!)

[bethecliche]

my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!reader

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

[officialtwistedfandub]

Content Poll

[danjaley]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

A set of 20 questions to get to know your OC!

Tagged by @nocturnalazure

Today is an excellent day to answer this for pre-revolution Nicolas. Tomorrow would have been a bit more complicated.

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

He’s very confident and not easily cowed. His double-life being exposed is of course the thing he wants to avoid most of all. But he sees this more as a risk than as a fear.

Do they have any pet peeves?

He has no patience with dilettantes who get their facts wrong about art-history.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Books; an Egyptian scarab which was given to him as a lucky charm; a painting of the Forum Romanum from his Grand Tour.

What do they notice first in a person?

General appearance and demeanour. (Bonus fact: What immediately attracted him to Jonathan was that he has vaguely classical features – and what totally got him was that he speaks French with a Scottish accent)

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

7-8. He was brought up not to be whiny. But he's had a comfortable life in good health so far.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

His instinct would rather be flight (or solve the problem with money and/or influence), but if duty binds him to fight, he will stand his ground.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Not really. He grew up with only his mother as immediate family. He saw enough of his parents’ marriage as a boy to get rather disillusioned. On the other hand he’s proud of his family’s legacy and never questioned his duty to continue it. He does try to be a better husband and father than his own. But if he were just an average person of today, he wouldn’t have wanted any children. He’d be content to travel the world with Jonathan, but actually Jonathan wants more of a family-life.

What animal represents them best?

He always reminds me of a cat, being very neat and taking his privileges entirely for granted.

What is a smell that they dislike?

He lives in a time where various kinds of stench are so common that he’s glad enough to avoid those.

Have they broken any bones?

See above - he's had a comfortable life in good health so far.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

“Arrogant idiot” (Matt)

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

He moves in circles where it’s not unusual to rise at noon, so the interesting things tend to happen in the evenings and at night. When he’s working by himself, he prefers the early hours for their better light.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

The likes coffee, both for its aroma and as a status symbol. He doesn’t like coarse food, like gruel or badly prepared cabbage.

Do they have any hobbies?

As an aristocrat, studying Antiquity is officially his hobby, not his job. But it’s his true calling and he even made some money from it. Apart from that, he’s always ready to join in any pastime suggested by the group he’s with.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

He’d pretend not to be surprised at all – but there’s no way he would have forgotten to organize his own birthday party. At home, this would be a very dignified meet-and-greet. In Italy it would be a picnic by some scenic ruins with good wine and a select circle of friends (plus their travelling-companions, private secretaries, or whatever they wish to call them).

Do they like to wear jewelry?

No. He retired the family’s signet ring and had a more practical stamp made for sealing letters. (Like all my characters he doesn’t wear a wedding ring because those are are such clumsy meshes, a nuisance to put on in CAS and only add to the blur of other accessories.)

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Neat handwriting, signature with lots of frills

What are two emotions they feel the most?

Mild amusement, cool stubbornness

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Anything that looks and feels like high quality. Not necessarily limited to a particular material.

What kind of accent do they have?

A French one, when he speaks English. His Italian is accent-free and his French is supposed to be very posh (if only my own weren't so poor!)

Tagging @windermeresimblr and @kimmiessimmies

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.

Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.

Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.

I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.

One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)

While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.

Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).

Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)

I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.

I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)

I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?

Hello,

before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.

You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.

Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?

Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.

Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.

So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.

If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.

To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.

If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.

Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.

If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...

Actual Answers! Hooray

what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?

Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.

Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.

I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.

The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.

Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.

I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.

This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.

In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.

The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.

If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!

mod Sasza

[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]

[mushrooming3]

Idk why but Mr Puzzles seems like the guy to just bust a move lol

So the movie and the live stream was really fun :D I loved so many parts and details: the Titanic scene, and the plushie scene, I was crying of laughter, the epic villain song, (it's in my playlist) we got content of 34, Meggy and Tari, Bob and boopkins too, I loved how much angst was in there, especially right before Mr puzzles song, they were in 4D AAH they looked so good, and the details of Meggy hyperventilating from remembering her traumatic experience with Wren, and how Four looked down in shame from IGBP, I wanted to hug them honestly. They deserved it. I did expect Mario to show up more than he actually did, but what he was doing the whole movie was also funny and the final battle was AWESOME, and when Four did the final hit on Mr puzzles— bro- it was so cool :D and WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT LUIGI? For a few seconds I was actually debating he was about to die, but idk if he's going to be a hammer for the rest of his life- and how he went straight to Puzzles to attack him as a hammer- *smacks lips* perfection just like the other arcs/ movies in my book.