#any tags you'd recommend using or to avoid?

[farmerlesbian]

Sincere question: Do you have tips for lesbians posting online? I'm nervous to put my face online after bad experiences with it as a teenager. But I really want to put myself out there and be visible and interact with other's and post my makeup and outfits and stuff. How do I find the confidence to ultimately be insulted by terfs or weirdos?

Hi! I'm so sorry you've had bad experiences putting yourself out there on the internet in the past. You don't deserve that, you should be able to exist without harassment and insults and bullying. I wanted initially to push back on you saying that you will inevitably be insulted by TERFs and weirdos. But, you obviously have been before, and I can only hope that you wouldn't be again, I can't promise that you won't be harassed.

Here's the thing, when you had bad experiences in the past, nothing you did warranted it. It wasn't your fault. And that is true for now. It amounts to a bullying situation, so there's only so much advice I can give you on the receiving end of it, because you're inherently not causing the behavior you'd be receiving.

I personally have not gotten hate or insults on tumblr, and I think I've just been lucky. (yeah I know I don't post myself on this blog but I do post selfies n stuff on my personal blog pretty regularly, and I use instagram as well).

I think my best advice is to use the block button liberally, and abide by the "don't feed the trolls" rule. don't engage, just block em.

In regards to confidence, I say fake it til you make it is a real strategy. it takes practice, you have to try it out, see that it's safe, several times, in order to build up your confidence. I know that can be frustrating to hear. What it means, is that you have to start somewhere. Start small, see how it goes, see if it feels okay, just dip your toe in and as you get more practice, you'll feel more confident.

If you do end up receiving any rude comments, try to delete and block it immediately before it sinks in and worms its way into your brain. or not! you can do whatever you want haha I definitely leave some stuff to read and be cranky about but I'm a weirdo I don't recommend doing that it's not healthy. Anyways... I got sidetracked. Try to remember that they're strangers, you don't know them and their opinions and words are not of value to you, they don't matter to you, they have shown themselves to be someone whose opinion does not matter. If they don't like you, so what? Lotta other people do like you!

Hang in there, good luck, and have fun! Enjoy yourself! I hope you get lots of compliments!

[theneighborhoodsave]

V1: Willow Creek + Magnolia Promenade 🏠

The Neighborhood is a CC-free save file that explores the concept of home. V1 celebrates the vibrant communities of the U.S. Gulf Coast. ❤️

This is what comes in V1:

13 community lots

22 total residences (includes 3 multi-family rental lots, 9 single family homes)

New High School & Auditorium in Copperdale (+8 school staff townies)

Secret lot (Sylvan Glade) reimagined

17 unique households with skills, jobs, relationships, and stories that tie into the town

New clubs and holidays

Download, screenshots & more info below ↪

The wonderful Ly family in Willow Creek was lovingly created for the save by @cowplant-snacks. All other neighbors were made by me, you can meet all of them here! Pets are from Pugowned, misc. townies from @cowplant-snacks and @simsontherope on the gallery.

There's lots of little details and things to explore, both around the world and relationship wise, so I'm excited to see what y'all uncover. Please feel free to @theneighborhoodsave in your posts or tag #theneighborhoodsave. I'd love to see what your sims are up to!

I also want to say thank you to anyone who's appreciated this creative journey with me. This save feels like home to me and y'all have supported me every step of the way!

Download the The Neighborhood save on SFS

Alt: Google Drive

The save is 100% CC free! Please note that I do have all expansions, packs, and kits (except for Castle Estate, Goth Galore + Crystal Creations.) For any items you don't own the game will try to auto find replacements for those items. The file is mostly blank this time around but does include the original EA builds in university and vacation type worlds (sans Granite Falls.)

Included is a folder of completely optional skin details/eyelashes for the neighbor sims. Thank you to @faaeish, @pyxiidis, @tamo-sim, and @landgraabbed! There are 4 pieces of CC I cannot include in the folder due to creator TOU. Please check the included "Read Me" file for more information.

All builds and families are up on the gallery (@sweetbeagaming) + tray files have been shared here.

If you've never used a save file and need help installing it, I highly recommend this tutorial by @leeleebsimming.

⚠️ A couple of disclaimers here due to some existing EA bugs. EDIT 4/25: Included in that link are directions on how to avoid TOOL'd items from disappearing. If you want to keep powerlines and such please check this out! ⚠️

Everything was tested to work around these, but I wanted to put them out there as an FYI.

TOU: Please don't reupload my save/builds/sims, claim as your own, and absolutely do not paywall them. Other than that feel free to build your own Neighborhood stories however you'd like!

[undressrehearsal]

dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it. 

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch. 

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you? 

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet. 

That had been three weeks ago. 

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice. 

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach. 

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked. 

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her. 

Fine. 

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her. 

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks. 

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder. 

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air. 

“What the hell are you-” 

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor. 

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor. 

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered. 

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began. 

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped. 

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it. 

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?” 

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs. 

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.” 

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure. 

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup. 

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway. 

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed. 

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.” 

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger. 

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.” 

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake. 

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably. 

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die. 

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut. 

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. 

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated. 

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy. 

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.” 

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.” 

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something. 

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly - 

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.” 

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away. 

This was definitely Hell. It had to be. 

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste. 

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things. 

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief. 

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago. 

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.” 

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention. 

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.” 

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again. 

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.” 

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose. 

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.” 

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.” 

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.” 

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?” 

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.” 

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’” 

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again. 

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth. 

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”) 

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened. 

But the clock kept ticking. 

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.” 

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you. 

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh. 

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth. 

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.” 

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering. 

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-” 

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it. 

But this was too important to ignore. 

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth. 

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break. 

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.” 

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.” 

And it was the lack of care that broke you. 

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?” 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?” 

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?” 

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart. 

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.” 

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?” 

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.” 

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. 

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.” 

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft. 

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.” 

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?” 

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers. 

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away. 

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-” 

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.” 

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.” 

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.” 

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper. 

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.” 

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.” 

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek. 

“What do we do now?” 

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.” 

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….” 

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin. 

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest. 

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?” 

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream. 

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her. 

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart. 

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out. 

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head. 

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.” 

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.” 

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin. 

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there.  You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.” 

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” 

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.” 

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan. 

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.” 

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise. 

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck. 

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.” 

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.” 

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either. 

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch. 

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.” 

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her. 

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue. 

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face. 

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you. 

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips. 

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it. 

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel. 

You loved revenge. 

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile. 

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst. 

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants. 

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster. 

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?” 

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise. 

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?” 

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple. 

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit. 

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged. 

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together. 

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place. 

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer? 

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed. 

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.” 

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world. 

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely. 

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off. 

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans. 

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth. 

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg. 

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you. 

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.” 

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.” 

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….” 

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness. 

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.” 

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers. 

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.” 

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?” 

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.” 

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear. 

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly. 

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips. 

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart. 

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now? 

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.” 

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before. 

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?” 

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?” 

[herecirmsims]

Carriage Travel & Sitting Proper

Starting the year with a twofer day! Most of these were poses that I originally made for @thesimnova some time ago, for use on a flying ship, but they worked remarkably well for a carriage scene I needed recently.

I figured they might be useful to others, but then I also thought... these are quite niche. Why don't I make normal bench/chair versions too? Plus some other random poses I'd made for myself. My story is currently featuring a lot of royalty and I realised I was in dire need of Sims sitting on chairs that weren't intended to be sat at tables. 

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim or MCCC - any bench* or chair for the Sitting Proper poses - The medieval carriage by @notsooldmadcatlady for the carriage poses (surprise!)

Not required, but recommended, is the Buckley Camera Mod. Personally it's a must have for me for all screenshots, and I'm sure it made it a lot easier to get the camera inside the carriage and work with the angles!

*Made with base game bench, but alas, not all benches/sofas are the same height so there may be clipping/floating.

Download Carriage Travel SFS | Patreon Sitting Proper SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. If you'd like to leave a tip that is always hugely appreciated, but never expected. ❤️

Thank you @ts4-poses and @alwaysfreecc !

[jae-bummer]

GG

Request: can i get wonwoo and #20 please? (fluffy haired online gamer boy)

Prompt:

20) You and your bias have become online friends who have never seen each other...until the day you decide to meet.

Pairing: Seventeen Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

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"WannaWoo," you sang into your mic. "What inspired your gamer tag?"

"It's because my name is Wonwoo," his deep voice said matter-of-factly. "You know that."

"No shit," you laughed. "But why not something else?"

"Why is yours KillerQuiche?" he mused.

"Because it was an autogenerated recommendation and I was thirteen," you grinned. "And at the time, I may or may not have misunderstood what a quiche was."

"And you've just stuck with it? All of this time?"

"Brand continuity. And it gives me ample opportunity to say, "Unleash the KillerQuiche,"" you laughed. "You have to admit, it gets our opponents pretty nervous."

"Or excited because they think they're about to win against a pair of thirteen-year-olds," he hummed.

"And then we devastate them," you chimed. "Because we make a great team!"

"More like give them a false sense of security," he chuckled. "But I suppose we make a pretty alright team."

"Be careful," you grinned. "That sounded dangerously close to a compliment."

"I compliment you all the time!" he gasped.

"Saying "good game" when we win hardly counts as a compliment," you argued.

""Good" is a positive descriptor," he muttered. "It totally counts."

"Fine," you sighed. "I'll allow it."

This wasn't the first time you had gone fishing for actual praise. Something like "Gosh, Y/N! You're so smart" or "Y/N, I know I'm Facetiming you at 2AM, but you look ravishing." Hell, you'd even settle for some variation of "Congratulations, you don't look like a rat today." To say you were thirsty for your friend's attention was an understatement. There had been a drought since the moment you had "met".

You had been long distance friends with Wonwoo for years and he hadn't realized that you were completely in love with him, despite your best efforts. Any attempts at flirting were just that, attempts. The one time you thought he was coming on to you, he was actually sweet talking a locked chest he was trying to open in a game.

At one point, you had considered that maybe he realized how you felt and was keeping you at arm's length to avoid an awkward let down. After you got to really know him though, you quickly understood that he was just reserved and in his head about things that did not concern you. Understanding emotions was not his strong suit, so picking up on them was nearly impossible. That's why he thrived in his digital persona. The worlds the two of you created and navigated were logical and safe. Things were risky when he became friends with you outside of the internet.

"Hey, Y/N?" Wonwoo's voice rumbled over the line. You had just entered the lobby of a game you often enjoyed playing together, so you assumed he was ready to strategize.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to meet up?"

Furrowing your brow, you adjusted your headset to make sure you were hearing him clearly. "Like...have a designated time we do a video call or something?"

"No," he continued earnestly. "Like meet up."

"I'm sorry, I must be lagging," you said quietly. "We do not live in the same area, Wonwoo."

"Astute observation," he hummed, the tone giving away that he was clearly amused. "I've heard of this incredible invention. You see, it's this giant metal contraption that people actually get inside! And the technology it uses-"

"While I have no earthly idea how an airplane actually works, I don't need you to explain it to me," you rushed out. "Are you saying you want to meet in person?"

"No, I'm saying we should designate a time we do a video call or something."

"Wonwoo!" you whined. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. This was a request you never saw coming.

The man across the line erupted in laughter. You stared blankly at the screen, completely disregarding the cue to jump from the virtual plane and onto the map.

"Is this a joke? If this is a joke, I'm going to be really upset with you."

"It's not a joke!" he sighed. "I've wanted to meet you in person for a while. I hope you feel the same way about me."

"Of course I do!" you gasped. You hoped the "I've probably wanted this longer and more fervently than you" was implied by your tone.

"I was thinking I could come to you," he proposed. "I don't feel comfortable with making you travel so far by yourself."

"I'm more than capable-"

"I did not say you weren't," he cut in. "It's other people I'm worried about."

You felt your heart do a little spin. You weren't used to hearing him be protective. "Okay," you conceded. "But I won't have you pay for a hotel. You can stay in my guest room."

There was a short pause before Wonwoo cleared his throat. "I appreciate that."

Well, that was odd.

"Unless I"m totally overstepping," you added. "If you don't feel comfortable-"

"It sounds great, Y/N," he said much more confidently this time. "Now let's talk logistics."

After refusing to coordinate a plan while he continued to play video games (even when he argued how excellent he was at multitasking), the two of you finally worked out a schedule. In a month's time, he would get on a plane and end up in the same city as you. You'd pick him up, he'd sleep at your apartment, and hijinks would ensue.

As you told him goodnight and logged off for the evening, it felt like you were floating on air. In your wildest dreams, you would have never imagined that Wonwoo would be the one to propose meeting in person. You had thought about it dozens of times, but never wanted him to feel pressured. Plopping onto your bed, you stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine what it would be like. Attempting to picture his tall, broad frame navigating life beside you, sent your heart tumbling to your toes. The simple intricacies of life seemed to be so much more important when you factored him into the equation. This would either be the best week of your life or the most awkward.

Knowing Wonwoo, it would probably be a happy mixture of both.

..

You shifted nervously from foot to foot, your stomach tying and untying itself into knots. You weren't sure if you were going to pass out, or spontaneously combust. When Wonwoo had insisted that he fly hours to see you, you had welcomed the idea. Now you were lightheaded and questioning every decision you had ever made to get to this point.

"It'll be fine," you muttered to yourself as you readjusted the balloons you held from one hand to the other. "It's just Wonwoo."

It being "just" Wonwoo was exactly your problem. Wonwoo wasn't "just" anything. He was multitudes. In all of the years that you had known him, he had made you feel the gamut of emotions. He was the truest friend you could ever hope for and the most clueless crush to stumble into your heart.

Keeping a watchful eye on the door marked "Arrivals," you nearly stopped breathing as you saw a face you recognized. Easily a head taller than the people walking around him, he was wearing a bright yellow beanie (so you'd know it was him - as if you wouldn't be able to identify him in any universe). It took mere seconds of him looking around for his eyes to lock on yours, a close-lipped grin on his lips.

From there, it felt like your mind had entered an intensely realistic daydream. Hurrying his steps, Wonwoo strode over until he was standing only inches away. The open expression on his face definitely signaled that he was waiting for you to make the first move. Lifting his arms slightly he breathed. "I'm here."

"You're here!" you all but screeched as you launched toward him. Wrapping yourself around his torso, you were amazed with how he could smell so good after being in the air for multiple hours. You nuzzled your face into his oversized t-shirt and let out a contented sigh.

Smacking at the balloons you still held, he navigated around them to snake his long arms around you. Shimmying in closer, he rested his chin on the top of your head. "A moment that's been years in the making."

You were surprised as you felt a soft kiss on your scalp. Leaning away from him, you looked up with wide eyes. "Wonwoo?"

"I didn't realize I could actually miss someone I had never met," he chuckled, shaking his head. Pushing up his glasses, he stared down fondly at you. "Is it...is it okay if I kiss you?"

You couldn't stop your mouth from popping open in surprise. Would it look bad if you pinched yourself to make sure this wasn't in fact a stress-induced mental break?

Wonwoo furrowed his brow as he searched your face. "I just...I just thought...Did I read the moment wrong? Oh god, I did, didn't I?"

The reality of the situation crashed into you with surprising force. Stepping forward to wrap him in your arms again, you cautiously glanced up. The last thing you wanted him to think was that he had crossed a boundary and made you uncomfortable. "Sorry, no, you didn't read the moment wrong. I was just...surprised?"

"Surprised?" he asked, still clearly confused.

"Well, uh," you said quietly. "You've never really given me any indication that you were romantically interested?"

"What?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "What do you mean? Y/N, we've known each other since we were teenagers at this point. You're impossible not to fall in love with."

"...in, in love?" you croaked. This was all terribly new information.

"I had just assumed..." he said, growing smaller the more he talked. "I assumed we were...kind of...a couple?"

You continued to stare at him.

"You flirt with me all the time!" he offered. "And I flirt back!"

"In what world do you flirt back?" you laughed. Maybe you really were going through a mental break. Had he really known you had been flirting with him this entire time?

"I tease you," he muttered. "And I try to say sweet things, but every time I think I've come up with something good, it comes out wrong."

"I had no idea," you whispered. "But Wonwoo, I feel exactly the same."

"Oh," he huffed, now trying to process the whirlwind of information that had been exchanged. "Well, excellent!"

"Just...can you try to be a little more obvious with your attempts to romance me?" you laughed. Apparently, you had been the clueless one all along.

"I'm more than happy to try," he said, a cautious smile finding its way back to his lips. "I have your favorite compliment geared up and ready."

"Oh? And what's that?"

He prodded your cheek with his nose, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest on your temple. "Good game, KillerQuiche."

[comicaurora]

These have been pent up for a while, so there's a whole list lol. Some are Aurora, some are not.

1) Can lacrimas carry out multiple purposes at once? Or will they blend them? I'm assuming that this is possible, considering that the automaton in the ruins was using a lacrima as a brain

2) Has anyone tried to make tools or weapons out of lacrimas? I'm talking like chisel that needs no hammer. Or maybe a Fire lacrima on a bow that sets your arrows on fire

3) Can you engrave runes on lacrimas to make them affect themselves?

4) Where can I read more about the Twins? If I'm not wrong they're the creator gods, aided by the Light dragon and the Void dragon to create life, but I might be getting a wrong read on that

5) Since we see Erin successfully become the first Void mage, does that now mean there's potential for him to make a Void lacrima? The dragon probably won't allow it, but still

6) What exactly does elemental corruption of each element do? Fire literally burns you up, as we saw in Arc 1. I can infer that Life likely makes you a chimera. Void corruption makes you a cave crawler. But what do the other one do? Does Earth make you a statue? Does Wind disintegrate you, Thanos style?

7) Now onto the non-Aurora questions, is your art vector or raster? I believe it's vector, but it's always better to confirm

8) What are your opinions on reading into the environment and the character design to infer things about the character themselves? In any type of media

9) Have you played Baldur's Gate 3?

10) Do you have any music that you'd recommend? I've listened to every song I liked so many times that I hate them now.

11) I'm new to Tumblr, anything that I should know? You don't have to answer this one if you don't wanna. I think I know some of the basics already. Reblog what you like, and avoid the terfs, right?

You might be able to tell that I like the idea of the lacrimas a little bit. Just a teensy bit. The artificer in me definitely isn't obsessed. I appreciate any answers you can give :3

Cheers!

Ooh, lots of stuff!

Yes, it's possible. A lacrima can be engraved with multiple spells, set in a casing engraved with commands, or some combination of the two. Typically, all spells engraved directly on a lacrima will activate at once when the lacrima is "switched on", but a spell can be quite complex, and conditional activations are possible - "if-then-else" statements, basically.

Yes, magic items exist.

Generally no. If the lacrima is disrupted or broken, the spell generally stops functioning, so a self-affecting lacrima will run only as long as it takes for the lacrima to distort or break.

There's an extra lore page about them!

He probably could if he wanted to (and the Dragon allowed it) but Void energy is very dangerous, so he likely doesn't want to.

Each form of elemental corruption agitates the presence of the element in the mage's body. Earth corruption can damage or alter bones, encourage unhealthy petrification of soft tissues, etc. Wind corruption can have physical effects but it often most obviously produces breakdowns in the person's ability to speak or understand language. Lightning damages, numbs or intensifies a person's physical senses.

Raster, I draw with CSP's digital pens. I've only very briefly experimented with vector art - I don't like how it simplifies the lines.

I think it's a fun school of analysis but, like all literary analysis, it runs into trouble if it tries to lock down exactly what the writer was thinking or intending (which is an objective fact that one can be incorrect about) rather than trying to analyze the story on its own and what meaning might, intentionally or unintentionally, be factoring into it.

Nope

don't trust my taste in music it's 90% nu metal and sonic OSTs

Like what you like, reblog what you want, generally it's considered dubious form to add a comment to a reblog unless you have something profound to contribute (commenting in the tags is fine), steer clear of discourse and callout posts and generally the sectors of the site that are constantly on fire, blocking someone for any reason is 100% fine

[the-radio-demon-blog]

Hello hello, its me again! *gives a small grin*

Thank you for sharing a bit of insight into your childhood pastimes with me. It was really intriguing!

I used to enjoy tag as well, though I am not very good at card games, minus go fish and possibly old maid. I can play uno though. I don't think I have the best poker face myself. Surprisingly enough, though, I am exceptional at liar's dice. It's a social game of deception and strategy were people make bids and call bluffs on other players while attempting to avoid losing their own dice, so to speak. Its quite fun, I recommend it!

However, math isn't a strong suit of mine, nor is figuring out the probability of things; but some how I have a weird sort of luck with that game in particular. I believe I even made an acquaintance of mine nearly loose his mind in trying to figure out how I was able to guess correctly almost every single time without an ounce of thought put into my strategy haha.

*clears throat and shuffles in place, holding both hands behind her. It's obvious she's holding something*

In any case, that's not the only reason I'm back. I wanted to give you a surprise. You seem the type to appreciate those, I'm assuming.

*glances over into the lobby at all of the flower arrangements present gifted from previous guests*

But I think I'm a little late to the party with the surprise I have for you, haha. Well, great minds think alike I suppose. Anyways, the suspense is probably killing you, so here you go!

*Presents a bouquet of magnolias and violet Louisiana Irises in a sizable vase with a soft, shy smile*

Everyone deserves to at least get a bouquet of their favorite flowers every now and then. Its a token of my respect for you, my appreciation for your time and just to say I'm a fan of your work and radio show.

Also, if you guys need any help around the hotel, I don't mind volunteering! Though I'm not the best at fighting for security purposes, I am quite good at listening if someone needs to express troubling emotions and the like. I am also somewhat of an artist and can help make pamphlets and such for the classes and activities the Princess is providing, if you think that would be beneficial to anyone...

*Sheepishly laughs*

Though, I suppose you would need to discuss such an arrangement with the princess first. In any case, if you think my assistance would be necessary or profitable, I am willing to lend a helping hand wherever it is needed.

"Ah, of course, my dear! I am happy that you found my childhood pastimes intriguing!"

"Hmm...that's quite a curious skill? Terrible at poker yet good at liar's dice? How fascinating! Ah, yes, I have played old maid in my time at the bars. You should truly take up card playing, my dear! It is quite fun!"

"Well, fate and luck works in mysterious ways, darling! That's what keeps life fun, hm? I must also admit my strategies can be erratic. I like to be unpredictable. Once you fall into a pattern, your opponents can exploit it."

Alastor gives you a curious look and tries to discreetly peer behind you.

"Oh my goodness! Thank you, dear!" Alastor takes the flowers eagerly into his hands and sniffs their wonderous scent. He lets out a good humored laugh. "I never thought I'd ever get to smell them again! Hah! As strange as that sounds! It is always nice to meet a fan of my work!"

"Yes, of course I would have to discuss such things with the princess." Alastor tilts his head and grins at her. "That's quite alright that you aren't exactly prowess, not everyone is built to be. However..." Alastor taps his chin. "...the Princess has been organizing this...hmm...this odd "therapy" activity. Perhaps you could help her with that?"

Alastsor sets the vase on the coffee table, taking good care to arrange them in a pleasing position. Then he turns back to her and offers her an arm. "If you would follow me, I can take you to the princess herself if you'd like!"

[arcadekitten]

[MY WISHMAKER Spoilers!]

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I just played MY WISHMAKER last night and I loved it, so I wanted to give you my thoughts!

Arcade, you are SO SNEAKY AND CLEVER!!! I saw those promo images and was like "oh dear, he has a gunshot wound, what happened?" only to boot up the game and find out HIS WHOLE ARM WAS MISSING! You really can't tell when he's facing right, so I applaud you for hiding it so well.

I LOVE how sassy The Wishmaker is! I was expecting it/them(? I'll just go with them for now) to be kind of highfalutin and regal 'cause they're a deity and all but I really love how you went in this completely other direction! I think it does make sense since The Wishmaker obviously has to, like, grant people's wishes (in some way at least), so having a more casual manner of speech would probably make them less intimidated.

Also! I loved how you implemented the QTEs! I feel like it spices up the gameplay and is a nice little nod to your fans who played My Neighbor Enide. Even though I messed up all of them, though I SWEAR the Vas one was not my fault! I was mashing that Z button for dear life, but my laptop decided to type it into Edge for some reason!? I didn't even have it open!

Oh, and I see you were able to figure out the mouse movement? You said you'd have to move around using the arrow keys, which I was fine with, but I was pleasantly surprised when I booted up the game and I could move with the mouse too! It really completed the experience.

I don't really have much to say about the story, not because it's bad, but because it's so shrouded in mystery that my cogs are still turning as to what it could mean. I did really like the puzzles, though! And I did notice those key items you hid away...

I have plenty of theories I've been ruminating on even before MW, but I don't wanna put them here because 1) since this is an ask it might make you feel obligated to comment on them somehow which you are not and I don't want you to do, and 2) I think I would start rambling and make this ask a mile long LOL.

That's about everything I could think of off the top of my head! Overall, I really enjoyed it, and I hope you the best in all the other chapters and games you plan to make. I'm sure I'll enjoy them just as much, if not even more. Take care!

Haha yes! ♡ I know some people have been asking why Reginald has two arms in the promo images and it's like...it's meant to be a surprise, silly!

Also for our little Wishmaker character, yes! I adore them very much and I'm very excited for people to see more of them and learn their real name!! Another one of my favorites to be sure ♡ Not sure how I'll tag them in posts yet until their name reveal... clock, maybe? Just to avoid confusion? This character can be referred to with any pronouns, but for clarification that in games and in my posts they will only be referred to with "they" and the occasional "it"

I'm happy the QTEs are received well! (Granted they were a bit harder at first haha!) I'm happy to include them in future chapters as I feel future chapters will definitely be more linear and dialogue heavy and so I hope they can spice up the gameplay and keep things interesting and maybe just a tad more immersive! ♡

As for mouse movement controls it's kinda like a "Well yes, but actually no". You CAN move using the mouse if you really want to but you also have to be aware that you could accidentally hit an object's hitbox and activate its event. And you can't back out of an event once it has been activated like in typical point-and-clicks. (There's only so far I can push the engine with my experience level!) It's for this reason (and the surprise of QTE's!) that WASD/Arrow Key movement is recommended!

Thank you so much! ♡ I am so very happy to hear you enjoyed the experience and I love to hear what people have been brewing up regarding the story and the mysteries still unfolding (even though I can't say anything about it yet!) and I can't wait until I can have more to show you all! I'm really excited for it and I hope everyone will be too! ♡♡♡

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

Welcome to Critter Rarepair Reccs!

Hey y'all! Welcome to Critter Rarepair Reccs, a recommendation list aimed at fics written for ships that are largely under-represented, appreciated, and loved in our fandom! Now, let's address the elephant in the room first; rarepair is a misnomer here, knowingly. Some of the ships eligible to be recc'ed on this list might not be ones you'd consider a rarepair! So, the more proper welcome would be-

Welcome to Critter Underloved Ship Reccs

For brevity's sake, the URL is staying, though.

Now, it goes without saying, but before we get into the details here, let's get one thing clear: this blog is dedicated to spreading love and appreciation to fanworks and their creators. Ship hate of any kind will not be tolerated and will result in a block.

With that said, let's talk about the criteria for an underloved ship and why we're defining it the way we are.

Definition & Explantion

There is one qualifier for a ship to be eligible for this list: less than 100 fics were written for it and posted to Ao3 during 2023.

We landed on this metric for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it casts a very wide net for pairings while still narrowing the field a fair bit. The gulf of works between flagship pairings, endgame pairings, and some of the larger side/non-canon pairings is significant. Secondly, we wanted to take a look at how the fandom is currently, which is why we pivoted away from using the Wildflower System ( @cr-summer-wildflowers ) of excluding any pairing with more than 500 fics total. There are a number of pairings that were extremely popular at one point in time, but these days get far less love and attention. Let's take Widofjord for example. They have almost a thousand fics total and were in the Top 10 relationship tags for Critical Role on Ao3 for a long time. But last year? Only 27 fics were written for them. They have, functionally, become a rarepair.

So, to be fair to ships that exist in that same, nebulous space, we're looking at totals from last year, not lifetime.

For illustration purposes, here are charts (compiled by the wonderful @spottedenchants ) showing how many fics were written for each PC/PC ship last year.

Ineligible Ships

Which ships, then, don't qualify under that definition? It's not a terribly long list. PC endgame relationships, primarily, a handful of non-canon pairings, and some prospective endgame ships. For simplicity's sake, we'll break them down by campaign.

Campaign 1: Perc'ahlia, Vaxleth, Pikelan, Perc'ildan

Campaign 2: Shadowgast, Beauyasha, Fjorester, Widomauk

Campaign 3: Imodna, Dorym, Ashrym

If one of these pairings is secondary or background to a fic, that's alright! But the fic shouldn't focus or center on them. It's also worth noting that polyamorous ships that include one of these pairs are also alright! Shadowidomauk, for example, only had 61 fics written for it last year, so they're in the clear! The same goes for Dashrym, as another example, as they've only ever had 36 fics written for them.

It is also worth noting all accepted submissions must be respectful of character’s canon sexualities; for example, we will not take fics that feature an M/F pairing of a lesbian character, even if said pairing fits the “rarepair” criteria.

The caveat to the above would be queerplatonic fic! There will be an option on the submission form to specify, to avoid confusion due to Ao3’s lack of a designated QPR relationship tag!

So when does the list open for submissions?

Very soon! February 7th, next Wednesday! The opening theme with be Fluff, and that list will be posted a week later, on Valentine’s Day, February 14th! I hope we’ll see you then! 🩷

[loganwritesprobably]

Law with the 3° genre, prompt (y.)

Since there's no specification, I'm pairing Law up with a gender neutral reader

Find the prompt list here

Content/Warnings: Law/GN!Reader, hurt/no comfort, break up, reader decides to leave the crew

If you had to hear one more stupid word from his stupid mouth, you were going to lose your mind. Breaking up with Law while underwater in the Polar Tang, still days away from your next island, may have been a bit of a mistake but you just couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't keep pretending. It had to end. Everything was tense, and uncomfortable, if he entered the room you immediately left, and the other crew members were struggling with the discomfort. Not one of them tried to criticise you though, they sympathised.

Law did not seem to understand how serious you were, though.

He went out of his way to seek you out, searching for you when you had downtime to try to speak to you. You avoided him at all costs, often walking away while he followed you, ignoring every word that he said. If he did it again, you were going to develop a serious violence issue.

You were sitting quietly in the kitchen, reading a book, and enjoying just being alone for a while. There was a lot you needed to organise, and you needed silence to do it. Feelings to sort through, things to plan, and decisions to be made. You'd already moved all your things from Law's room back into the crew's room, and you were sleeping in your old bed again - still alone, but at least now it was by choice.

That was why you'd split up with Law, you couldn't deal with the way he treated you anymore.

He was never around, always prioritising work over you and even yourself. It was one thing for him to put the crew before you, because you understood that - he was a Captain, that was his job - but to even neglect himself to the point where he was snapping at you and other crew members; making poor decisions; missing all his time with the people he claimed were his friends.. you weren't willing to put up with it anymore. You couldn't date a man who had all these responsibilities when he couldn't take care of himself.

Did you even want him as your Captain?

Hence, things to think about.

Law walked into the room, and for the first time in several days, you didn't leave. You were capable of ignoring him while he puttered around to finally feed himself, you were reading a good book. Instead of doing that though, he sat in the chair beside yours, and just stared at you. It was hard to concentrate on you book when he was staring at you so intently but you kept your eyes on the page, refusing to bend to whatever he was trying to do.

"Since you're finally done running, I want to talk about us." He said eventually, and you sighed, slamming your book closed. "There is no us Law, get that into your thick skull." You hissed, standing up from your chair to leave again, retreating to another quiet room to gather your thoughts. "Why aren't you even willing to hear me out? You'd think I'd hit you!" He yelled, and you froze. "Why? Because you act like you have no interest in yourself, never mind me! We barely spent any time together, and when we did half of it was me forcing you to look after yourself and the other half was you being grumpy or mean because you can't do that for yourself! I'm done with it Law! Grow up a little - then come back and talk to me." You'd turned back to face him, eyes wild, chest rising and falling rapidly with your anger. Law stared back at you, mouth hanging slightly open, understanding finally dawning on him.

"I'm not getting back on the Polar Tang after this island. I'll find my own way - I don't want you as my Captain anymore."

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | WIPs | Recommendations

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[explorevenus]

piercing porcelain, crimson sap ♡ vampire!steddie x reader (pt. 1)

recommended listening - dracula (nate sees cassie) - labrinth

this part is generally sfw but the bulk of this series will be nsfw (18+) - so minors dni !!!!! or i will call ur mom

word count - 5k

description - in a fantasy world, reader is from a small, remote village. for many years you have been drawn to the mysterious mansion in the woods, the very same mansion you were warned against visiting for so long. you’ve tended to the neglected garden since you were young, growing attached to the strange, abandoned structure, only to one day find out the mansion isn’t as vacant as you’d thought...

tags/warnings - vampire!steddie, dark!steddie, innocent!reader, fem/afab!reader, pet names, no use of (Y/N), stevie is a lil cold at first but he warms up i promise, eddie is v manipulative lol, implied hypnosis, no smut yet but i promise it’s coming, fantasy elements obvi

a/n - ok i know this premise is done to death and like somewhat out of left field for a fucking stranger things fic but HEAR ME OUT. HEAR ME OUT OKAY. i am a SLUT for sexy mysterious vampire boys and i’ll be DAMNED if i don’t turn steve and eddie into sexy mysterious vampire boys at least once before i die. thank u for understanding and if u see this and it flops no u didn’t ♡

taglist - @urlbitchin​

my masterlist ♡ ​

part 2 coming soon ! lmk if u want to be added to the taglist :)​

fic below the cut, thanks for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

-venus ♡

Growing up in the woods, you were always taught to avoid the decrepit old mansion that hid away in the shadows of the tall trees, a warning you would heed with great caution as a child, but not so much as you grew into your teenage years. 

You were 15 when you first felt the urge to rebel, or rather when you first failed to fight it off. Restricting yourself to only the outside of the property, to make yourself feel better about your choices, if anything, you had set off along the overgrown path that winded northeast and just down the valley, into a remote corner of the wilderness where the decaying building loomed tall, quieting the forest around it.

Based on all the horror stories you'd been told over the years, you expected to find the place teeming with evil spirits, or perhaps grotesque monsters; but, it was silent as could be, utterly vacant by the looks of it, and at first, rather underwhelming. You thought to yourself that maybe that was the point of all those hyperbolic cautionary tales that the elders passed down, to build up this great big image of what evil might be hiding away here, only for the purpose of letting down those expectations later. You were ready to give up and walk home, disappointed by your findings (or lack thereof), when you caught sight of a beautiful jungle of plants out of the corner of your eye-- they were bursting through the gaps in an old iron fence. It was a long forgotten garden, and as luck would have it, plenty of the plants there were invaluable for your alchemical endeavors.

Every now and then you would slip away and return to the garden, mindlessly sifting through the salvageable ingredients, and as the years went on you'd made a habit of tidying up the weeds where you could, too. Your interest in alchemy hadn't fully extended to an interest in gardening, so you weren't the most experienced by any means, but it was amazing what the smallest loving touch could do for a long forgotten place. Not to mention, the ridding of the weeds allowed the more sought after plants to properly flourish. It became your own private place, your own little slice of heaven, untouched by anyone but yourself. You loved the community you'd grown up in, but you felt an immense comfort near that strange mansion.

In your adulthood you only began to spend more time at the property, caring for the precious plants and dreaming that the mansion was yours, dreaming that you were not a village witch thieving ingredients for a living but the mistress of a beautiful household, gardening for pleasure in her overabundance of free time. It wasn't so much the material that you wanted, no, but the freedom-- freedom from the dangers of the woods, freedom from that constant worry of being unable to provide for yourself, for your village. It was nice to fantasize sometimes.

On this particular afternoon, it was overcast when you were readying yourself to leave the village, so you saw it fit to bring an umbrella. The prospect of rain didn't bother you a bit, or change your plans to visit the mansion at all-- it had been too long since the last rainfall, so both yourself and the plants were sorely needing it anyway. You lifted the hood of your soft cloak over your head and stepped outside, flower basket in-hand and toting a leather backpack full of various gardening supplies.

Cutting through the trees to that fading old pathway, little rocks and twigs crunching ambiently beneath your boots, you looked up at the grey sky above to see that it was only continuing to darken on the horizon. Thick black clouds loomed in the distance, swallowing up every last bit of sunlight and visibly unleashing buckets of rain upon the northern end of the mountain range, and they were barreling closer at a rate highly noticeable to the naked eye. You briefly considered turning back, but decided to stick to it anyway, given the worst case scenario was having to walk home drenched.

That old iron fence creaked loudly in greeting as you entered, even louder than usual due to the moisture in the air. You closed it softly behind you and made your way over to the patch of nightshade that you'd been tending to. You propped your umbrella up on the stump of a nearby tree, crouched beneath it, and got to work pulling up weeds as little droplets began to fall around you. The petrichor was delightful and comforting, and the rainfall softened the earth enough to make it just a little easier to uproot things. It didn't take long for you to settle into a comfortable autopilot mode as the droplets became gradually larger, and more plentiful.

Eddie and Steve liked this kind of rain.

Any kind of rain was favored, of course, but today was unmistakably a treat. The clouds were so dense and blackened with excess that no sunlight could hope to shine through. There was much excitement to be had on darkened days such as these, for a creature of the night-- the ability to roam during waking hours provided an entirely new insight into the lives and routines of their prospective cattle, and as a bonus, the moisture in the air tended to strengthen certain scents. 

But, in a more wholesome light, it was quite nice to reminisce in the long faded memory of their own mortality, to pretend, if even just for one afternoon, that their hearts may beat with vitality as they once did, that their bodies might once again hunger for fruit or pastries instead of thick red blood. It was a perfect day for a stroll, Eddie thought, and if they were to happen upon something suitable to dine on in the process, well, that's all the better...

Unfortunately, for his own skeptical reasons, Steve didn't seem to agree. He felt that it was too much of a risk to be seen by anyone, that it would blow their cover, and perhaps his paranoia was not entirely unfounded, though Eddie hesitated to give in. Not only had it been a while since the last good rainfall like this, but it had certainly been far too long since they'd found a new plaything, and Eddie was becoming... rather restless. The last few cattle they'd brought in hadn't really wowed him, as they were chosen more out of necessity and convenience than pleasure, and in turn, it took hardly any time at all for him to grow bored with them. Eddie needed something new, something exciting to keep him entertained for much, much longer than that. The weather provided the most enticing opportunity to stalk around, it was a shame that Steve was so adamantly against it. He could really be no fun sometimes.

Eddie was sulking around the mansion while Steve worked away in the upstairs office-- he had taken the additional waking hours as an opportunity to get ahead on his obligations, which was quite characteristically responsible of him, but Eddie couldn't bring himself to sit still, knowing that such a golden opportunity was being wasted. He could only rearrange the liquor cabinet so many times, let alone the furniture-- the exterior of the mansion was to remain untouched, to maintain the illusion of vacancy. With each passing second, the temptation to slip out for a bit to hunt while Steve worked was picking away at him.

Tossing the idea around, just for fun, of course, Eddie approached the nearest window and drew back the heavy red curtains for a peek outside-- just a scan of the property couldn't hurt, right?-- and as his mocha eyes followed along the treeline surrounding the property, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he froze in place as he picked up on an intriguing scent. Curiously, Eddie cracked the old window open, letting in a draft of the cool, fresh air, and just as he'd hoped, it carried with it the sweet smell of living flesh. The stars couldn't have aligned more beautifully-- there was a human nearby.

To avoid alerting Steve, Eddie quickly sealed the window shut once more, slinking away up the stairs for a better view from the windows in the master bedroom. They were bigger than the ones in the hallway, had a much higher vantage point, and more conveniently, faced the single overgrown path that led to and from the property. Truthfully, he hadn't expected to find much-- Eddie didn't really consider himself lucky, and he knew that the powerful scents carried by the humid air could sometimes be deceiving. 

Still, just as he'd done before, he drew back the curtains and cracked the window, peering outward, noting that the human's scent was stronger here. It was floral and saccharine, like fresh lavender and juicy peach, laced with ribbons of intoxicating iron. Eddie's lashes fluttered as his eyes slid shut in delight, and he allowed himself a moment to breathe in deeply with an open, slightly watering mouth.

His eyes opened again and immediately caught sight of movement on the ground below. Eddie couldn't believe his eyes at first; crouched beneath an umbrella in the garden was a pretty little witch, muddying her slight hands in the thick weeds with no evident knowledge of the mansion's occupants. She wore a pale pink cloak that matched her boots and her umbrella, the white frills of her dress poofing out from beneath it, pointed elven ears peeking through her hair. Eddie could hardly fathom leaving the girl out in the rain-- after all, she must be freezing...

Eddie briefly considered asking Steve for his opinion, but had a sore feeling that he knew what he would say, and it wasn't likely to be in his favor. Deep down, he knew that it might be a reckless move, but the aroma in the air was all too enticing. With every passing second he was losing grasp of his better judgement. The temptation was far too much, and so it was that he gathered an umbrella of his own, and decided he would rather ask for forgiveness later. His sleek black dress shoes went from tapping elegantly across the hardwood floors to sinking into the wet earth. While he wasn't exactly thrilled that his expensive shoes had been exposed to the elements, he knew that the reward could be well worth it. Conveniently, too, the softness of the ground masked the noise of his movements, allowing him a bit more time to observe the girl in her relaxed state. Eddie approached the little elf slowly, not wanting to frighten her. She was so absorbed in her work that she hadn't even looked up.

In all honesty, the girl's unmoving focus and lowered guard brought a little smirk to Eddie's face. Finally, he asked aloud, "My, sweetheart, aren't you cold?" His voice was so warm and sweet, but somehow chilling, too.

You startled, freezing in place as your eyes raked up the length of his body before you-- he was so tall, with long legs clad in nice black slacks that fit him sinfully well, and contrasted to his pale white skin in a way that gave him a nearly unnatural glow. His alabaster face was framed by wildly curly, dark hair, tucked into a messy low bun behind his neck. You couldn't find the words to speak-- he was certainly stunning, a sight for sore eyes, but you had definitely not expected to see anyone out here, let alone in this weather, and it was even weirder that he was able to sneak up on you.

"Oh, you poor thing, you're shivering..." The mysterious man frowned, crouching to your level, fingertips tracing along the underside of her jaw. Little did you know that he was feeling for your pulse. "Why don't you come inside and warm up, hm? We'll get you out of this rain and into some dry clothes."

Inside...? You were only puzzled further-- as far as you knew, this mansion had been vacant for decades, and it certainly looked the part. The garden was far from the only section of it that had fallen into disrepair. The circumstances of this situation were overtly suspicious, but there was something about him that just made it so hard to say no. The mysterious man was equal parts haunting and alluring, comforting and hazardous. Before you could say anything, he reached forward to wrap an arm around your shoulders and then began to usher you indoors.

Shutting the heavy oak door softly behind you, the man rested a hand on your shoulder from behind. "May I take your umbrella?" He kindly asked.

"T-Thank you," You blushed, shakily handing your umbrella over to the man, suddenly being washed over by a feeling of guilt for dripping water all over the beautiful hardwood flooring. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone lived here--"

"Shh, it's quite alright, angel," He soothed, hand sliding from your shoulder to your collarbone as he stepped forward, and twisted around to face you. Every movement he made was so enchanting, so graceful, you nearly tripped over yourself as he was stepping out of his muddy shoes. "I appreciate the company. It's not often we get visitors out here."

You were then given absolutely no time to ponder the implication of the word 'we' as the man asked for your name. Somewhat warily, you gave it to him. He hummed contentedly, testing the name out on his tongue, and he was very much pleased with how it felt.

"How pretty," He mused. "And how sweet of you to take such good care of our garden... it's nice to meet you. I'm Eddie."

You were immediately flustered at the praise, cheeks flushing bright pink as your eyes darted somewhere else, drinking in your surroundings-- perhaps the outside of the mansion was falling apart, but the inside was truly beautiful. Dark, but beautiful. Intricately carved wooden furniture decorated the space, fine paintings adorned the deep blue walls which flickered a warm orange with cozy candlelight, and the ceilings were so high that it made you feel particularly small. It looked almost regal. 

Eddie gently reached for your hand, bringing you swiftly back to reality. "Why don't you come upstairs and we'll get you out of those wet clothes, hm?" He asked, but he was already leading the way-- again, there was something unnaturally persuasive about him, and it went far deeper than his unparalleled beauty. You rounded a corner and began to ascend the winding staircase, the fine wood creaking softly beneath your steps. 

Clearing your throat nervously, you finally mustered up the courage to speak. "Do you live alone here?"

Eddie shook his head, leading you down a hallway at the top of the staircase. You followed obediently. "I have a roommate, an... old friend, named Steve," Eddie explained over his shoulder. "He's working away in his office, but I hope we see him soon. I would love to introduce you."

Of course, Eddie was well aware that your scent would soon breach the door to Steve's office, that it was only a matter of time until he'd follow it through the house until it led him to the both of you. He knew Steve would be angry with him, but he also knew Steve would have a hard time saying no to such a pretty meal laid out just for him. Eddie was willing to take that risk.

One of two thick oak doors creaked open before you, revealing an immaculate master bedroom. The windows were blocked with heavy black drapes which matched the dark, plush bedding, complimented by the stained wood floor. The walls were painted a deep, navy blue, shrouding the room in darkness save for the soft light of a bedside lamp crafted of Tiffany glass.

"You have a beautiful home," You spoke softly, eyes fixated to the many intricate details of the space that seemed endless, every flick of your eyes uncovering new treasures to be admired-- paintings, trinkets, candles long burnt down and dripping hardened wax down their bases.

Eddie chuckled, gazing at you out of the corner of his eye as he rifled through the closet for something you could wear, though it was hard for him to make a decision. You looked so adorable in your soft colored clothes, even drenched in rain and speckled with earth, and he sadly didn't have anything that matched your gentle appearance.

"Thank you, doll. You're very sweet," He finally replied, and as the words left his lips he noticed your polite manners. You observed your surroundings quietly, hands clasped in front of you as you made the noticed choice not to overstep, not to touch anything without permission, not to look too closely at any one thing. 

It came as a surprise to him when he felt his cold heart swell. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a way about someone he'd tricked into his home for a quick meal.

He brought his attention back to the closet, giving up on his own side and choosing instead to rummage through Steve's-- yet another decision he might come to regret, but at least Steve was more likely to own something soft and colorful. Almost immediately his eyes landed on a thick yellow sweater that would surely warm you up. Eddie plucked it off of its hanger and turned to hand it to you.

However, you were lost in an oil painting on the wall, wide eyes glassy with wonder as you looked over each brushstroke of a glowing crescent moon over a stream of rushing water. Eddie and Steve had acquired that painting so long ago that Eddie couldn't even remember where it came from or who painted it, but just how mesmerized you were by the piece was art enough for him.

Eddie cleared his throat to gather your attention, holding the sweater out for you. "Here, this should help you warm up," He smiled, careful not to bare his teeth. He didn't want to scare you off now. Only moments ago he simply wanted to bleed you dry, but now he found himself wanting to taste you, savor you, perhaps even keep you.

Oblivious, you took the garment from him with a smile, amazed at how soft it was. You thanked Eddie quietly before turning around to shed yourself of your dress, undoing the thin ribbons that secured it in the back before letting it slip gently down from your shoulders. You stepped out of the soaked piece carefully, thankful to your past self for choosing to wear tights and thin shorts beneath it, and as you pulled the cozy sweater over your head you delighted in the near immediate warmth that came with it. Shortly after, you gathered your dress from the floor and turned to face him.

"Thank you. Is there somewhere I can hang this to dry?" You asked.

Eddie tried to conceal his smirk as he answered you, "Well, I would say you could hang it on the clothesline, but..." He gestured toward the window which was concealed behind the thick drapes, but the sound of fat rain drops pattering against the glass was clear. "You should stay inside until the rain lets up, hm? I'd be happy to light the fireplace for you."

"I don't know... I should probably get back to the village in case the storm gets any worse," You spoke reluctantly, casting your gaze to the floor in disappointment, a move that was not lost on Eddie. "I might need to help cover the crops. I don't know what we'll do for the winter if our harvest is flooded."

Your disappointment communicated a couple of things to him-- one, you truly wanted to stay and spend time with him, and two, it was likely you'd be easy to convince to do just that. Of course he understood your plight, though he hadn't really considered the struggles of everyday, living, breathing people in a long time, but selfishly...

"Well, how many people live in your village, sweetheart?" He asked. You looked up at him, tilting your head quizzically. He chuckled, clarifying, "I don't get out much. I wouldn't know."

You had to think for a second-- you'd never really counted-- and when you landed on an estimate you were comfortable with, you obliged. "I don't know exactly... 45 or 50, maybe?"

Eddie hummed, crossing his arms casually. "That's a lot of hands. I'm sure they'll fare just fine without your help for a few hours, yeah?"

You pondered for a moment, just beginning to part your lips to accept his offer to stay for a while when another voice cut through the air, disapproving and materializing out of nowhere: "Eddie... What do you think you're doing?"

While you startled at the unexpected voice, jumping slightly where you stood, Eddie could only grin, turning slowly around to face the man in the doorway.

Only logical, you surmised this was the 'friend' Eddie had told you about earlier-- he was tall and athletic, square jaw and long lashes with fluffy brown hair that wisped over his face. The top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a thatch of dark hair over his strong chest. Your mouth dried-- the two of them were strikingly, devilishly handsome, especially together, and suddenly you felt your cheeks heating up with confusion over your own feelings and embarrassment for causing a problem.

Eddie's response cut your internal dialogue short. "Stevie! There you are," He greeted innocently. "Remember how you mentioned the garden looked like it was coming back to life? Well, I found the culprit," He joked, gesturing to you as he introduced you by name. Your face burned even hotter.

"...And you found the culprit wearing my shirt?" Steve asked.

You felt your heart sink into yourself. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know-" You stammered, but Eddie raised his palm to quiet you and spoke for you instead.

"Come on, Steve, look at her... Poor thing got soaked in the rain! Besides, doesn't she look adorable in yellow?"

Suddenly you felt hot for a different reason. You looked down to the floor to hide your face-- little did you know they could both hear your heart pounding. Still staring at the floor, you spoke up again, a little louder this time. "Um, I'm sorry for intruding... You can have your shirt back and I'll just go. I didn't mean to cause any problems."

As you looked up to make your way toward the door, you accidentally locked eyes with Eddie. An unexpected wave of calm washed over you, stopping you in your tracks.

"Nonsense, sweetheart," Eddie said. "You're not intruding at all."

Steve gave him a look that missed you completely, a look you wouldn't have been able to read anyway in your trance-like state. You couldn't really manage to speak, let alone interpret the silent communication between two men who were obviously so close with each other that the most subtle physical cues could speak a thousand words. 

Eddie put a hand on your shoulder. It was cold.

He smiled at you confidently. "Would you mind giving us the room for a moment, doll?"

Your feet were carrying you to the door before his words even fully sank in. Your gaze lingered on Steve for just a moment as you passed by him on your way out-- he was intently watching you go, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

Plopping down to sit at the top of the staircase, you tugged at the sleeves of the yellow sweater and wondered what kind of conversation they were having. It was overtly obvious Steve didn't want you there, but Eddie seemed quite sure of his ability to change Steve's mind. Having just met him less than an hour ago, you didn't know him well enough to trust his judgment on that. 

A tall grandfather clock ticked rhythmically down the hall, echoing each passing second. You picked idly at your tights just to pass the time, hoping Eddie's offer to light the fireplace for you would still be in the question, should Steve decide you could stay. You could faintly hear the timbre of their voices muted by the thick wooden door, but you couldn't make out what was being said or even discern the emotion behind it. All you could do was sit there, practicing your patience. Part of you wondered if you should just leave the sweater in your place and go, if it weren't for the fact your dress was still in the bedroom and you had no idea where Eddie put your umbrella.

You were too absorbed in your thoughts to notice the hallway had quieted. Apparently you were also too absorbed in your thoughts to notice the sound of the bedroom door opening.

"You do look rather cute in that sweater," A voice startled you from behind. Clutching your chest, you turned to face the source of it, surprised to find Steve. He was noticeably calmer and offering you his hand to help you up. "I might just have to let you keep it."

Shocked, you blushed as you took his hand, rising gently from where you sat. His hand was cold too. "T-Thanks," You stuttered. "I'm sorry if I caused any problems-"

"You didn't," He cut you off with a warm smile. "I promise. The apology is mine-- I'm sorry for coming off the way I did. You didn't do anything wrong."

"There you go, Stevie," Eddie chimed in from the bedroom doorway. You were beginning to sense a pattern that they had a unique ability to sneak up on you. "See? I knew you could play nice."

Steve shook his head, giving you an exasperated look that communicated quite well to you that Eddie was no stranger to successful persuasion such as this. "Let's get that fireplace lit, shall we?"

Guiding you down the stairs by your hand, Eddie trailing close behind, Steve led you to the parlor and encouraged you to make yourself comfortable as he knelt before the fireplace, stacking nearby logs of firewood into the soot-stained enclosure. Eddie was quick to replace Steve's hand with his own, leading you over to the couch. He offered to brew some tea for you, which you eagerly accepted, and as he made his way to the kitchen you found yourself sinking into the soft couch and watching Steve turn the gas valve at the bottom of the fireplace, striking a match to set the lumber alight at last.

Steve sat on the couch to your left, leaned coolly against the arm. The light from the fire cast a flickering orange glow over his handsome features.

He asked you about how you'd found yourself here, what measures you'd taken to revive the garden and what your village was like. He seemed hesitant to tell you much about his own past, other than that he came from a family in the city that he wasn't particularly close with. You let it slide, figuring there was much more to it than that, and you didn't feel comfortable prying.

Soon Eddie returned with a hot cup of tea, cautioning you to be careful of its temperature before he handed it off to you. You hadn't asked what kind it was, but it smelled delightfully earthy and herbal and a little bit minty, sure to chase the chill from your bones. You thanked him with a polite smile as he sat on the couch to your right, cradling the warm porcelain in your hands.

The three of you continued to chat, learning more about each other as you all became comfortable and opened up a bit. You learned that Eddie plays guitar-- he promised to show you sometime. You learned that Steve used to be an incredible athlete. You learned that the two of them met in school, that they hated each other at first, but have since been inseparable for a longer period of time than either of them could recall. You told them about your family, about your aptitude for horticulture. You promised to teach them how to care for their plants.

The conversation came to a comfortable break, the parlor draped in silence other than the pleasant sound of wood crackling in the fireplace. You were a sip or two away from finishing your tea when Steve leaned forward, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear as he asked, "Do you believe in the supernatural?"

It was an odd question that seemed to come out of nowhere. You nodded slightly. "I mean... yeah. Living in the woods for so long, I know quite well that there are many things on this Earth that nature couldn't possibly explain." You quietly sipped your tea.

"Does it scare you?" Eddie smirked, planting a cool hand on your knee. Suddenly you were feeling nervous under the pressure of their attention. You finished the last of your tea, leaning forward to set your empty mug on the coffee table.

"Not really," You replied, eyes focused on the fire. "Everything in nature requires a balance. Light and dark, hot and cold..."

"Predator and prey?" Eddie added.

You tensed a little bit, nodding. "Sure, that's a great example. It's all Gaia's will."

"Even if you were the prey?" Steve asked.

"Y-Yeah, I mean, of course," You hummed, wishing now that you hadn't finished your tea so fast. You needed something to fidget with. "It's all Gaia's will," You repeated.

Eddie's hand repositioned from your knee to your thigh so smoothly that you almost hadn't noticed. "Hmm... What about pain and pleasure?"

Steve's yellow sweater was beginning to feel rather hot on your body. Your breath hitched in your throat. "Absolutely," You answered innocently, although your voice shook. "It all contributes to a delicate balance."

You weren't stupid. You knew where they were going with this... or at least you thought you did. Oddly enough, as you'd answered just moments before, you weren't scared.

Maybe if you'd really known what you were in for, you would have been.

[herecirmsims]

Graveyard Visit

These were a commission for Electric Whims / The Hathaway NSB! ❤️

Five group poses for two adults and two infants, plus all-in-ones. There is a small height difference between the two adults so if you use the height mod, there may be misalignments! Made with masc and femme frames and, as always, there may be clipping or floating depending on Sim body type or clothing. They were intended for a grave visiting scene, but aren't attached to any object so you can easily use them for whatever situation you like.

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim or MCCC - Not required, but I recommend the Bye Bye Baby Rug Hider !

Just place four teleporters on the same spot.

NOTE: if your infants haven't learned to sit up by themselves yet, you will need to wait for them to do their little sitting up/flopping over animation before you're able to teleport or pose them. I suggest posing the adults first so they don't wander off while you wait!

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

Download here: SFS Patreon

I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️ If you'd like to support me you can do so via Ko-Fi, but it's not required! Have fun telling your stories! The world needs 'em! ❤️

You can easily browse more of my posepacks via my Ko-Fi gallery.

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc thank you!

[wintertidewater]

A Beginner's Guide to Feminist Action: Independent, Anonymous, and Inexpensive

Stickers

There are wonderful feminist artists who sell stickers, however, the cost of small scale labor and shipping doesn't make it financially favorable for all of us.

Making your own can be as simple as using a pen, paper, and any type of tape. Glue can be a replacement. If you have extra tape, and it is clear, like scotch tape, you can "laminate" your paper to protect it. Hairspray works as well. Both tools can be found at places like Dollar tree if you don't already have one. Benefits of this is that the size and mottos are completely in your control and can be diversified.

Paper name tag stickers also work and are easy to mass produce with no cutting or adhesive necessary. You can write on them directly and they come on plastic so they're ready to peel like normal stickers. They come in packs of 25 or 50+ and can be found at places like target or walmart.

If you'd like your sticker to be permanent or are worried about others undoing your work, go back to Dollar Tree and get the small tubes of super glue. Place your laminated paper on a pole, use two small bits of tape to hold it in place, and squeeze out 1/2 to 1 small tube of the glue starting at the top. Once its stuck, take off the two bits of placement tape and apply glue to the full sides as well. This will make it weatherproof and unpeelable.

The goal of public feminist expression is exposure. Accordingly, postings in high traffic areas are more favorable than remote ones. This doesn't have to mean city hall. Parking lots, malls, schools, parks, and intersections are all favorable places. Stickers work well on poles. Placing them above crosswalk buttons ensures viewers.

One advantage of stickers is anonymity. You can quickly apply one and move on without drawing attention to yourself.

Writing

We're all familiar with the cascade of male genitals drawn everywhere. If there is one thing to learn from that, it is that graffiti can be as simple as using a sharpie in a bathroom stall. Sharpies work well on most surfaces. If you feel comfortable stopping somewhere to take the time and write or draw, they make a very cost friendly and effective tool. Thicker permanent markers are better for higher visibility, especially if the message isn't near eye level. Your messages can again be laminated with a layer of super glue.

You can also write with spray paint but assuming you are not experienced with this, it can be an unnecessary risk especially as it is audible and requires a larger surface area.

Posters

Posterboards do not need to be bought. If you've ever worked in a warehouse or at a store, you know just how many hundreds of flat solid pieces of cardboard are chucked everyday. You can approach a store employee to ask, or take a look around in their recycling bin outside. Some stores with long hours begin restocking before closing. At this time, you can simply ask whoever is right there unpacking and you will be allowed access to those trays and boxes. You can use old moving boxes and so on.

A quick and cheap way to complete your posters is to again go to dollar tree. In the school section they have packs of large paper letters with each containing the alphabet thrice. These work as reuseable and readily available stencils. As stencils, once you position them, you can use a can of spray paint, trace them, or even spray it with dyed water to leave your message. Little bits of tape or pebbles on the letters may be necessary if you're using spray paint to ensure they stay in place under the air force. You also can simply tape them on to be permanent however most phrases do not use letters evenly and so more packs (and thus more money) will be needed. Spray paint is available at walmart for $6 a can. I recommend black.

A great place to put posters is on your nearest overpass (or bridge that crosses your busy roadways). Make sure they are on the inside of the fence to avoid the risk of them falling and creating hazards for drivers. You can have two sets of signs for each overpass to cover both sides of traffic.

This is an example (of which the credit is not owed to me) from a recent roadtrip. The three signs read, "Women", "Liberty", and "Justice" on the Iranian flag. The second set of signs is on the other side of the bridge and its corresponding fence to be visible to the cars on the left side of traffic.

Adherring your posters to the fence well is important due to the winds from cars underneath and on the bridge. Make 4 (or more) holes in your board near but a sturdy distance away from the corners and sides. Rope, twine, wire, and duct tape are possible options to tie it to a chainlink fence. Maybe your sock has a hole in it. use that to tie your poster to a fence. Cut it into strips or use it whole. Point being you do not need to spend money. You can be resourceful as far as your imagination goes.

General

While doing any of these, it is a good idea to wear a mask, hat, and nondescript clothing to protect your identity. Be mindful that that outfit can make you seem more suspicious. You know your own neighborhood best.

If it is safe for you to do so, make use of the cover of night. Depending on the hour of night, even the busiest places will likely be completely empty.

Be wary of cameras. Scouting a place out in a completely different outfit during the daytime is wise to avoid landing up on film. Make note of where the safe places to graffiti are.

For both protection and to look less suspicious, if you have a dog, take her on a walk when you do this. You can also use a baby stroller for a similar reason with the added bonus of it carrying and hiding your supplies.

None of these projects should cost more than a flat fee of $7 for materials which can be used again and again.

Pepper spray and a knife are always recommended. Biking is also favorable. For the most part, you're safe as long as you keep moving when biking.

I hope this helped give you ideas on how you can create a feminist presence in your neighborhood. Good luck and stay safe.

[solarpunkaestheticweek]

I’m in Australia right now, it’s cold and rainy and miserable, I have no idea how I’m meant to solarpunk it up, do you have any tips? 😭

Ooh, hello!

I can definitely see how coming up with ways to solarpunk in the cold and rain would be hard. It definitely feels like there's not much to do, but hopefully I've got some ideas that can help inspire you!

First, maybe you can try to bring warmth and light to your indoor spaces! Cozy up the place with some solarpunk-inspired decor, see if you can brighten things up. Maybe have a get together! Community is totally solarpunk!

I'm not sure how easy all of this is to obtain, but I've seen people paint streets with a type of paint that reveals itself when it comes into contact with water? I think it might be hydrochromic paint? I'm honestly not sure how easy that stuff is to obtain, but it could be fun to get some and paint a fun design on a driveway or the likes to add color to rainy days!

If it's a wet season, it's probably a good time to plan a garden! You did mention it's cold there right now (I think it's fall or winter in Australia right now? maybe?) so it might not be the best time for getting plants in the ground, but drawing up a garden plan is 110% a fun way to solarpunk during the winter! Plus, having a plan can help make things a lot easier in spring. Reading up/watching videos on native plants and other cool ways to support wildlife (building fountains, bird/bathouses, mini ponds, etc are what I've been up to in the states) and sharing that information with others can also be fun!

Speaking of! You could make a cool rain barrel to harvest some of that funky fresh rain water! I've seen some with aquatic plants planted into the top, which could make it an even more fun project! (I know it's not legal in some of the states but I'm not sure how the rain barrel vibe is in Australia so definitely do some research).

While you're inside avoiding the cold and rain, it could also be an excellent time to pick up a craft or learn a new skill! Drawing, painting, and writing are all pretty chill things you can do indoors, and if you decide to do some solarpunk-themed works you can share them during the week! It could also be a wonderful time to pick up a fiber craft like sewing, knitting, or crochet! I picked up crocheting during a time when there wasn't much to do in the garden, and it kept me pretty entertained! There's lots of resources on learning how to do these things on YouTube and various other websites, you've just gotta find what interests you and start there!

Last but not least, you could find some solarpunky books to read, or watch solarpunky shows or movies or even just some YouTube videos! Maybe you'll find some other form of inspiration for something to do while it's raining, or when things brighten up, and you can definitely post reviews on what you read/watched and let us know what you think!

If anyone reading has any recommendations (for activities or for stuff to read/watch) feel free to chime in! Either way, I hope you find something you'd like to do, Salad! If all else fails, you can even participate by just scrolling the #solarpunkaestheticweek tag and sharing your thoughts and love on people's posts!

--Ani

[compassionatereminders]

Your inbox tag is so inviting, if it's okay I *will* talk to you, cause I'm in a bit of a painful pickle :(

I don't know if my partner is cheating, and it's driving me insane

Starting about a week ago, they (gender kept ambiguous to avoid any sort of instinctive judge mm sent - not that you're prone to it, but others tend to be) started behaving a little oddly. I noticed they were on Snapchat, but I couldn't see who they were snapping or what was being said. It only bothered me because normally they tell me 'I've been taking to my friend so-and-so', and they didn't mention at all that they were talking to anyone.

I stewed on it for a while, because I didn't want to make it a big deal if it wasn't. Except then they started hiding their phone screen. Like, tilting away from me in the car, screen brightness turned low, always keeping their phone in their pocket around me when it used to be out almost all the time.

We went out a few days ago and their behavior was odd again - I ended up snapping, "damn if you'd rather be elsewhere, sorry" . twenty minutes later, we talked about it - it was addressed immediately. Because here's the thing about my partner: they don't like unnecessary bullshit. I know that for a fact. They've been cheated on before in their prior relationship, they know it sucks. I'm not very attractive (I'm just kinda average), and I have very low self esteem - that is to say, I'm not easy to be around, but they make an effort to be around me anyway. Which is why my head is in such a tizzy. Since before and even after their weird behavior they've talked more frequently about us getting married one day, always being the one to bring it up first.

I think I know who they're messaging specifically, because I *know* they've been getting snaps from someone specific - I managed to see the name notification *once* - and after our little spat, they told me a number of friends they've been talking to, and pointedly didn't say the persons name.

I get friend recommendations based on their friends - we were looking over my phone, and that persons name was in the list ; my partner told me how they knew everyone else, but didn't even remark on that person.

I'm rambling, I'm sorry. I'm a little intoxicated. I'm just broken up about things, because I was so certain just two weeks ago that I was going to one day marry my partner, but now I can feel myself emotionally retracting "just in case," and I don't want to bring the topic up again because we had a long talk just yesterday about trust and I was placated until today, and I probably *do* have to bring it up, but I don't want to cause a rift for 'not trusting them' especially if it IS nothing;;; but I don't want to (potentially) be mollified by gentle words, because I *DO* trust that they mean what they say---aHHH I don't want conversations I want FACTS

:'(((( they're a good person, they are. I'm hard to be around, and hard to be with. They wouldn't put up with me if they didn't genuinely care. I'm just scared because I *also* genuinely care.

Their Snapchat score went up by 14 in 45 minutes, I'm taking another shot of alcohol ;;;;;

I think you have to confront it. Because whether this is actually happening or not, walking around with these suspicions and insecurities without communicating about it will negatively affect the relationship even if your partner isn't actually cheating on you. So the worst thing you can do is sit with this in silence and let the bitterness and paranoia snowball into a chain reaction you won't be able to stop

[uroboros-if]

hello, if its okay with you, could you explain how you achieved the following in twine: when you select an eye color, having the text change according to your choice. It seems simple but I can't seem to figure out. Any help would be appreciated!

You probably mean you want to do it in the same passage. I would be ecstatic to help!! I'll be putting it into a read-more because of pictures!

Also note, this tutorial assumes you're using SugarCube. I have very little knowledge of other Twine languages.

First of all, credit to HiEv because I got the base code from them! I just can't find what thread I found it in.

Code?

First—I've uploaded the EXACT passage for eye colors from the IF (even the writing is included...) to itch.io. I've made it restricted to avoid it clogging up my list of projects + notifying all my followers. However, you can play + download it there!

Link / Password: edelle008

Feel free to copy the code exactly, but in this post, I'll be explaining every single thing if you're still confused looking at the code.

Your Passage

Make a passage for where you want the radio buttons to appear. On that passage, have this code:

Red - Make sure to have a ((silently)) macro to not create unnecessary white space. I recommend to end ((silently)) immediately before your writing.

Orange - copy the code exactly (again, I highly recommend downloading the code off itch.io if you just want to copy and paste it!)

Yellow (no yellow on mobile editor...) - This is jQuery. It detects for any "changes" in a ((radiobutton)) macro in that passage. Make sure you don't have multiple radiobutton macros in the same passage.

Green - Replace #summary with the ID you're going to enclose your radio buttons in. If you don't know what I mean, this'll make more sense later.

Blue - When jQuery detects a change in the radio buttons in the passage, it's going to execute this widget called ((eye_color)), which I made solely to check and display different text for eye_color depending on what radio button is selected. Again, if this doesn't make sense, it will later.

So this where the actual radio buttons come. Please disregard the black strikethroughs, that's the code I used to organize the radio buttons into side by side columns.

I'm not covering how you do that here because the way I do it is incredibly scuffed, and only supports three radio buttons side by side. It also only looks good if the number of choices are the same on both sides. I don't want to teach you whatever won't work flexibly.

Above the red line, make a div and assign it an ID. I called my ID #summary, which is why in the previous screenshot, I made it so that the code updates whatever is inside a (span) or (div) with an ID of #summary. Hence, please change #summary into whatever you'd like!

Now you can also style any text within the (div) to anything you want in your Stylesheet.

Inside the div, I put the widget ((eye_color)). You can change this into any text you want to display initially, and it will be updated/written over once someone selects a radio button. The reason I let this stay as ((eye_color)) is so that it first shows the text for the first option, brown eye color (I do this by initializing $eye_color to "brown" in StoryInit, or else it might not show anything when you first look at it.)

Red - Below the red line, please add your radio buttons as normal. Again, disregard the black strikethroughs.

Widget

The reason I made a widget is so that it automatically checks and updates the text depending on the $eye_color variable, or any variable your radiobutton is changing. A widget is essentially a custom macro you make.

Make a separate passage (I called mine "eye_color" for consistency), tag it with "widget". You may copy the code below exactly as base (available for download on itch.io):

Here I made a widget called eye_color. You will enclose all the code inside this passage within the ((widget)) macro.

Yellow - I would use ((nobr)) macro from the beginning of the widget to the end to avoid unnecessary whitespace. This will put everything in one line unless you use (br) to force a line break.

Orange - I made a div for the entire text. The style="(code for transition)" is how there's going to be that transition between texts so it doesn't change it immediately, but gives it that slight fade in effect as it changes. Feel free to change the transition if you know how to. I assign it an ID of #text1 because I'm uncreative, but remember what ID you assign it.

Also, maybe you could test using (span) instead of (div). I don't know why I didn't, and haven't tried it.

Pink - In between the pink dashes, you will write your if statements. This is straightforward -- write an if statement for all the eye colors you want. The (div) for Orange ends when you use your closing ((if)).

Brown - The Orange makes the text have 0 opacity. What this does is make it have 1 opacity. In English, this means the text is originally invisible and this turns it visible.

Purple - Enclose Brown in a ((timed 0s))((/timed)). Usually, Orange and Brown are executed almost simultaneously; that leaves your text invisible. What Purple does is make Orange execute before Brown, so that Brown is able to make the text visible.

Test it

I hope it works for you! Let me know if you still have any questions.