#cas clothing swim | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lumosinlove · 2 months

Text

Day Two of @oknutzy-week-2024 !!

Write Me In

Finn O’Hara, the lead singer of Night Swimming, the band that tops charts year after year, has an interview set with music’s top writer, Leo Knut. The whole thing will take place over one week at the locations and times of Finn’s choosing. Leo’s not freaking out. He definitely hasn’t had a crush on Finn since he was sixteen. Logan Tremblay, the band’s drummer, definitely had nothing to do with Leo realizing he liked boys.

Leo’s to go see the concert and then do the first part of the interview after the show. Only, when he’s shown back to Finn’s dressing room for the first interview, Leo definitely opens the door at the wrong moment. Because there is Finn O’Hara, heartthrob to people everywhere, kissing his drummer, Logan Tremblay.

Leo had gone through too many outfits. His bedroom floor back at his apartment was a mess of his clothes. The problem was that he didn’t know where they were going. Where would Finn O’Hara want his interview done? He was in the middle of a massive world tour so they could end up anywhere from his dressing room to his private jet. That had happened to Leo before. He’d gotten right on the plane with the star and then be left at their destination to get himself home.

They could go to one of New York City’s number one restaurants—Paps were always catching Finn at Nobu and Via Carota—or it could be one of the apartments he kept. It could be a damn night club for all Leo knew. You didn’t wear the same clothes to Via Carota as a night club. Well. Some people did, he guessed.

Finally, and only cut off by the prospect of being late, Leo stepped out of his building’s elevator in slim fitted slacks and a white button-down, open at the collar. If he needed to dance, he’d undo a few buttons and dance. Otherwise, his sleeves were cuffed just below his elbows and his blond curls were cooperating perfectly. At least he had that going for him. The other variable had been his bag. Usually he carried his leather cross-body with his laptop and notebook. He didn’t want his laptop at a club—or a restaurant, to be honest. He’d settled on folding his sunglasses into his shirt and slipping a pocket-sized notebook into his trousers along with his phone.

The only thing he knew for certain was that he was going to get to see the concert first. And he was being cool about it. Completely professional.

Not thinking about the posters he’d had on his bedroom wall when he was sixteen. He wasn’t. His mom had sent him the picture of him grinning like a lunatic at Finn O’Hara’s first world tour. He wasn’t thinking about it. Not at all.

From his back pocket, his phone began to buzz. His assistant, Cassie.

“Hey, any chance you know where the hell I’m going?” he asked.

“Ten bucks you cry.”

Leo closed his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

“Or go completely speechless.”

“I am an adult.”

“You cry when we pass those pet stores with puppies in the window.”

“I am a compassionate adult, Cas. Now where—”

“You’re going to the show!”

“I mean after,” Leo asked. “Any word from Finn—from O’Hara’s team? Where are we doing this thing?”

“How many outfits did you try on?”

Leo hung up.

The venue was much what he expected. Finn had five albums out with a much anticipated sixth one coming sometime this year. The June night was cool as Leo fell into the masses headed to Metlife Stadium. His magazine had said they’d send a car, but Leo opted for the trains. Maybe they were a pain, but so was traffic. And besides, this way, Leo would get to see the fans. Finn’s real fame had come with his second album, titled Bring The Stars, and he’d only gotten bigger with his third, Red&Gold, so there were many a star-studded dresses and golden, shimmering outfits. Leo stuck out sorely in his black and white. He texted Cassie.

Maybe I should have been more festive.

She replied immediately. I’ve seen your heartthrob O’Hara shirt. An emoji that had its tongue sticking out quickly followed.

Not helpful.

He talked to a few of the fans. One girl who had drawn gold stars all over her body. A boy wore a shirt that read I’M THE STARS, TAKE ME over a strong chest. It was a rather touching lyric in Finn’s song, but on the shirt it looked like a pick-up line and made Leo smile and write it down.

At the venue, he was lead straight to the VIP tent with his press pass, and was handed about four lanyards that would keep him there, allow him to go between the viewing tent and the VIP bar, and another that would later let him backstage. The woman who gave them to him promised to fetch him sometime after the encore. Then he was presented with a Finn&Tonic.

“Oh, I’m working.”

The woman smiled. “For the next two hours, you’re watching a concert.”

True enough, Leo thought. His inner teenager was whirling at the very manufactured idea that Finn had created this drink for him. He was sure anyone over twenty-one in the stadium was feeling the same.

“I tried to get Finnarita to happen, but no-go.”

Leo turned towards the voice at his shoulder and froze. He stared. He opened his mouth. He thought about speaking. The red hair, the brown eyes. It looked—well, almost how Leo imagined. Then again, he’d never seen Finn up close before. God, he was so much sturdier than his posters made him out to be. His chest and arms were pushing out against his t-shirt. Leo needed to not be looking at his chest. He should say hello. He should say something.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted out. He looked towards the stage where the opening act had just come on.

There was a laugh from beside him and when Leo looked back over, a hand was being extended. Without thinking, Leo took it.

“I’m watching the show.” The winning smile turned secretive. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m just the brother. Alex.”

Oh. Of course. That’s what was off.

“Oh,” Leo said. “Oh my God.”

Alex laughed harder. He shrugged.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—” Leo let out a laugh because something about Alex made it feel like he could. “You probably get that all the time.”

“People think we’re twins. Always have. I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m Leo.” After a beat, Leo did what he hated to do. “And I am under an obligation to tell you right now that you’re speaking to press.”

Alex nodded. He was probably thinking up some excuse to walk away. Whatever. Leo was used to that. No one wanted a random quote ending up in the wrong place.

“I know who you are,” Alex said instead. “I loved your piece on poetry in pop.”

Leo only just managed to swallow a sip of his drink around his surprise. “Oh? Thank you. It was a fun one. Listen, I still feel bad about nearly freaking out on you.”

“Ha, don’t worry. I mean, it’s a good thing you’re a fan—you are, I take it?”

“Yes. I mean, yes.”

“Well.” Alex nodded to his nearly empty drink then to the VIP bar. “You can join me for a drink later to make up for it.”

“Sure, of course.” The words came out of his mouth, but as Alex grinned and turned towards the bar, all of the heat rushed to Leo’s face.

He wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure he was being hit on by Finn O’Hara’s big brother. Either that, or scoped out to make sure he was worthy of writing the story. Or he was being nice?

Leo gave up on thinking and watched Alex’s shoulders walk away.

There was a little menu in the tent and Leo glanced at it, trying to picture Alex O’Hara buying him a drink—and kissing him. The list was funny. Album themes. Song titles. Maybe he’d let Alex buy him a Rum & Gold.

Then, it was all Finn. He came out onto stage like something from one of Leo’s fantasies. He wore dark jeans and a green tank top that read LUCKY ME—a hit single off of the second album. Leo had died for that song in high school…He still did.

I watch you fill your cup with sugar,

Waitress asks 'what will it be?’

In this world of ‘order up!’

Babe, you let me rest ease-y

I just say lucky me

“You know, I grew up here.” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium after that song—it was quite a contrast. Lucky Me got more and more sexy with every verse. The diner waitress and I watch you fill your cup with sugar soon turned into Let me fill you up with sugar, let me drown in sweet and sweat. Leo wanted to know who in Finn’s life took their coffee sickly sweet.

“It’s the best city in the world,” Finn was saying. “Oh, and hey, my big brother’s here tonight! Everyone say Hiii, Alex-aaaa-nder!”

Alex got a thunderous hello and Finn—Finn was looking right at the VIP tent. Right at Alex. Who was standing right next to Leo again.

For a second, Leo swore Finn was looking at him. He felt those brown eyes, and when Finn smiled, lighting up every screen in the place, Leo felt that, too. He started to sweat, to blush. He was no better than anyone else in this crowd.

He swore, he swore, Finn was still looking at him when he raised his microphone to his mouth and said. “So many beautiful people here tonight…” Then he raised a hand. “You guys ready?”

He let them cheer, he tilted his head back and basked in it, the strong lines of his throat and jaw on complete display.

In a low, deadly rasp, Finn said, “Let me hear you, Lo.”

When he dropped his hand in a powerful fist, the drums kicked to life behind him.

Lo. It was only then that Leo managed to tear his eyes away from Finn. Three beats answered Finn’s words and the spotlight swung to Logan behind his kit.

Leo was going to die. He’d vastly overestimated his ability to keep his focus while doing this assignment. How was he supposed to remember his own name, much less how to write, when Logan Tremblay was sat there sweating through a clinging gray t-shirt, his brown hair curling up around a backwards black hat. Logan started up a beat that Leo would recognize anywhere. Their song I See Red had come out last year and Leo had been most intrigued because it was the first time Logan had sung alone on parts of a song. Although Finn sang most of it, Leo had played it over and over again for the parts that Logan sang. His voice was slightly deeper than Finn’s, the vowels influenced by his French-Canadian accent.Then there was the part when, like in Lucky Me, they traded beats and lyrics. The stadium went mad, though, when Logan began to sing his verse. Nothing but him and his drums.

I see red in my dreams.

Pressed against me,

Hard and gently,

Making me see.

Meant to be.

Two beats.

I see Red breaking free.

Looking at me

Breathing, ready,

No make believe.

Meant to be.

He went right into the bridge and the way he sang it—it was like Leo had never listened to the song at all until this moment. The way his body moved as he pounded the drums. Finn joined in, harmonizing and grinning wildly. The crowd had no care for the melody—they screamed the lyrics with Logan and the lights flashed every time his sticks hit his drums.

Red in my dreams getting all over me,

Sweat in my eyes please say you’ll never leave,

I knew once I woke I’d take it all back

So I never woke and we stayed like that.

I am not asleep and you are not a dream,

And my Red looks good in the sunlight gleam,

Not going back to sleep, or how it was.

Cover me in Red for forever cause

I see Red cross the street

Waving to me,

Wearing blue jeans,

Such a day dream.

Meant to be.

Finn looked flushed when he raised his arms to the crowd.

The crowd lost it—and continued to do so every time Finn and Logan did a similar call-and-answer. Finn’s voice and Logan’s drums. It was like a heart. Its beat and breath. Leo found himself grinning all through their song Green Eyes, rumored to be about a girl Finn spent a night with on tour in France. With each of Finn’s verses, Logan’s drums answered him with as many beats. No, you don’t—say much—but I read—your touch. Now Finn was standing behind Logan as Logan played, leaning in to share his microphone. You fall—I sigh—Oh my—green eyes.

It was hot. It was more than hot, it was sensual. Personal. The microphone caught Logan’s laugh and the crowd lost it all over again. A group of girls just in front of the VIP tent were sobbing—Leo was fairly sure they had been the entire time. He started to laugh a little, even if it was sweet how they held each other through the swaying rhythm of Your Loss and Thin Ice.

Leo knew he had been waiting for his favorite song. He’d been hoping each time a new one began that this would be it. It was softer, and he thought maybe he’d get to hear a bit more of Finn’s voice alone above all the instruments.

What actually happen was so much better. Finn sat down at the piano and began to play—alone.

“How are we all doing? Enjoying ourselves?” Finn grinned when the crowd roared for him. “Okay, good. Good, good. Um. This next one I’m gonna play a little piano, how’s that?”

Leo fought the urge to cover his giddy smile.

“Fantastic. You guys are great, I gotta tell you. But I’d expect nothing less from my favorite city… So, I think there are a lot of lovers of this song out there,” Finn said. “Me included. I actually didn’t expect everyone to love it so much because I know it’s a little different. Little sadder than our usual stuff. I wrote this one alone. Haven’t written anything alone since, but this one I did. I think it’s about making choices. It’s about wanting something so bad…” He paused, playing a few gorgeous soft chords, and Leo knew. This was his song. “That you hold on, even to the tiniest sliver.”

As raptured by Finn as Leo was, a movement on the stage caught his eye. Logan was getting up from behind his kit and leaving the stage. Leo frowned, watching his broad shoulders disappear. Maybe he was getting water because Finn played this one solo. Finn, on the stadium monitors, seemed to be watching, too.

“It’s a song about hope, really,” Finn said. “This is Rooftop.”

Part of Leo wanted to close his eyes, as he always did while listening. When Finn began to sing, he was a thousand places at once. Driving back home in New Orleans and singing it at the top of his lungs. Laying in his bed in the dark, crying so hard he couldn’t breathe through his nose. Swaying with Cassie at some party at the end of the night.

He didn’t close his eyes. He was here. The closest he’d ever been to Finn O’Hara in his life. He could see his famous freckles. Those gorgeous brown eyes—and the sorrow in them just now.

It’s a long, long, summer night

And I have no where to be.

I am gone, gone, lost the fight

Against hoping you’d want me.

It feels wrong, wrong, sitting here

Cause this is your place too.

You are gone, gone, lost the fight

But you know what is true.

I know you do.

Finn let the crowd sing the second I know you do back to him before he hit a gorgeous, thrumming piano chord and sang the chorus in a way that made Leo’s throat close up—as it always did.

I will lose my balance, I will

I will choose the highest place

Sit where only wind can race

Faster than your heart.

I will lose my courage, I will

I will fall and see your face

Reach out just enough to trace

All our broken parts.

And the bridge. God, the bridge. Sung in this quick, chopped low voice that Leo leaned into like he was thirsty. The crowd sang along so loud Leo felt it in his chest.

Bet the blood’s there still

Lingering on that window sill

But what no one sees

Are the ruins left of me.

Cause I’m still up there

My dreams smoking in the air.

Find the highest part

That’s the place we start.

And the blood’s still fresh…

The beautiful, beautiful pause. He was magnificent with the piano. The screens showed a shot of his hands, pale, strong wrists, delicate fingers. Leo got swept up by the key change, slowing it down, Finn’s voice raising, strong, the words drawn out, and so, so desperate for—for the memory, Leo thought, hand pressed against his chest. This song had always felt like a memory.

I wish you best

But I need you to know

That I will not rest

Until you tell me to go-oh

I’ve still got one hand

Locked on the ledge

Think I will hold on

Until you throw-oh

Down

To my

Death.

Finn’s mouth rested against the microphone. His eyes were closed. The summer wind brushed his hair back from his forehead and—and Leo saw the tear track on his cheek. His voice was so, so soft for the final verse.

It’s a long, long, summer night

And I have no where to be.

I hold on, on in the fight

Of hoping you’ll want me.

Leo was in a daze when the set ended and he was whisked away by two people with headsets and backstage badges on. He fumbled to show his own passes to the three rounds of security. To his surprise, what he thought of as backstage was actually under the stage. He was lead through a curtain beneath the front part of the stage and through what resembled scaffolding. It was also a maze. He tried to keep track of where he was, but that plan went out the window in a second. There was no way he’d make it anywhere on his own if he had to. Soon enough, the low ceilings and metal poles disappeared and he was in the actual rooms of the stadium. More endless hallways, but a bit less of feeling like the whole thing could collapse on his head.

“Here we are, Mr. Knut,” said one of his companions. They’d arrived at a door that had a plastic sheet on it reading O’HARA.

Leo didn’t hear much of what was said after that. O’Hara. Leo saw flashes of all the posters, all the interviews, all those Instagram lives Finn used to do from the apartment he shared with Logan. He missed those videos. Finn in the kitchen talking about the new music he was working on, Logan wandering by shirtless behind him. It almost made one feel like they were in the room—which had probably been the point.

When he looked up again, the two headsets were walking away.

“Wait! Wait, should I knock or—”

But the world had already moved on in the post-show chaos and Leo was left standing there. He was more than surprised to find himself alone. He’d thought, being a journalist and all, they’d watch him like a hawk. Most musicians wanted to control what he saw. Apparently not Night Swimming.

Leo stepped closer to the sign, to the door, listening. He didn’t hear anything behind it. Not talking—maybe music, but it was hard to tell where that was coming from. Hesitantly, Leo knocked.

The door fell open a few inches. The latch must not have been done properly. Leo’s eyes raised in surprise. Now he could hear something—it was soft beneath the shouts and passing carts outside. But someone was inside.

Leo knocked again, gently, not wanting to startle, and took a half-step inside. He was expected, surely. Finn had been told?

Any words he might have had died in his throat.

Finn was inside. It was a warm space, soft music playing. A dressing table, a mini fridge, a guitar propped up against the sofa, an electric kettle. And Finn.

Finn who had Logan pressed up against the wall beside the mirror, its light warming their skin, kissing him. Kissing Logan in the same way he sang—with everything. Logan looked like Finn was all that was holding him up. He was still in the gray t-shirt, but his hat was gone—knocked to the floor by their feet. His dark curls were wild. Finn’s pale hands had hitched up his shirt and they made a stark contrast against Logan’s tan muscles. Logan made a soft sound into Finn’s mouth, Leo saw him bite at Finn’s lip and pull, and then Finn was dragging his lips down to Logan’s neck.

Maybe Leo made a sound himself, he didn’t know, but Logan’s eyes flashed open and met Leo’s.

Green. Green green green and then—

Interest. The look in them was so intense that Leo couldn’t move. He couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t look away, couldn’t shut the door. Logan’s hand fisted Finn’s read hair and he—he pulled Finn off of his neck to kiss him again—eyes on Leo. He tapped Finn’s hip and Finn stopped. Leo heard him ask, what? Logan nodded his head in Leo’s direction.

Suddenly, brown eyes were on him, too. Finn’s eyes.

“Oh,” Finn said. His lips were pink and slick from Logan’s. Logan’s strong hand was still knotted in his hair.

“Excuse me,” Leo choked out. Finally, he forced his eyes down. Kissing, his mind chanted. FinnandLoganFinnandLogan. “I’m—I’m so sorry, I was told—”

“No, no, no,” Finn said. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Finn looked around for a moment, a little dazed, and then spotted his shirt. He pulled it on backwards, cursed, and righted it. Damn right lucky you, Leo thought, glancing at Logan’s mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m—so sorry, I’m here for…um.”

“Leo Knut,” Finn said. He strode forward and offered Leo a hand. If he was at all nervous about what Leo had just caught him and Logan doing, he didn’t show it. “I know, I’ve been looking forward to your interview. My brother and I, we talk about your work all the time.”

Leo was going to pass out. “Okay. I mean thank you.”

Finn smiled a little. He wiped his mouth. Leo tried to keep his eyes from following the motion.

“Um.” Leo said. “The show was fantastic.”

“Yeah? Thanks.”

“You’ve seen us before,” Logan said—and not like a question.

“Yeah,” Leo replied. “This is my third time. I’ve been a fan for a while. Since the beginning, really.” Stop talking. “So. So, my office said that we would be—well, I’m here for…”

“Right,” Finn said. “Of course. I think we’re doing an hour now, right?” When Leo nodded, he gestured to the couch. “Please, sit. Can we get you anything?”

Leo blinked. “Oh. Um. Water?”

“Let’s order food,” Logan said, collapsing on the couch. “I’m fucking starving.” He looks at Leo. “Or am I supposed to get out for this Finn O’Hara interview?”

“No,” Finn said, then looked at Leo. “I’d like him to stay.”

“That’s completely fine,” Leo said. “Better, even.” That sounded weird. “I mean, I’d love to hear both of your—of what you have to say.”

Leo stumbled through his questions. He fumbled his words, his phrasing. He had no direction, no path, he couldn’t remember all the angles he’d planned to try until he found this story.

The worse part was, he knew they could tell. Logan’s stormy eyes tracked his missteps like a shark. He was a quiet one. Leo had known that. He was like that in interviews. It bordered on rude, honestly, but Leo knew he had a sweet side. He’d seen videos of Logan spending a solid thirty minutes talking to fans through fences, outside of their hotels. Talking, taking photos, signing autographs, recording video messages for friends. So, Leo withstood the glare. He had, after all, walked in on him kissing Finn. The world certainly didn’t know about that.

By the time the hour was up, Leo had nothing but an empty notebook and a headache.

“We don’t have a show tomorrow,” Finn said. “Why don’t you come around to the apartment? Lo and I sleep late, but mid-day?” Finn smiled at him, friendly and sweet.

Lo and I. Was this Finn telling him something? Were they more than roommates? Not that it was any of Leo’s business, not that it had anything to do with the article, it was only…Leo tried to imagine himself at seventeen, knowing that Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay shared the part of himself that he was most unsure about. God, what that would have done for him.

“That sounds wonderful,” Leo said. “Thank you. Should we say noon?”

“Two,” Logan said. “We sleep late.”

Leo looked back to Logan. No smile. Studying. That same looked Leo had received during the kiss.

“Two, then,” Leo said.

If there was one thing he hadn’t expected from tonight, it was not being able to get out of that room fast enough.

#o'knutzy week 2024 #write me in #band au #pop star au #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #finn o'hara #lumosinlove #Write Me In lumosinlove #o'knutzy

112 notes · View notes

lewmagoo · 5 months

Note

Bob in his meandom phase, enjoying making you cry of pleasure and pain, but immediately going to kiss you every time you ask, because no matter what, it will always be what he prefers: loving you, forever. 💜

you were sobbing. great heaving sobs that rattled your entire body. you were so overcome with painful pleasure that it had begun to pour out of you in the form of tears. bob had been working you over for hours, exercising the patience of a saint as he edged you relentlessly. he wasn't loud about it. no, bob's dominance was a quiet, restrained, methodical show. he was still clothed, for heaven's sake. it showed that he was, in fact, the one in control.

he had bought a special stimulating lubricant, which he'd carefully smeared over your pussy. it wasn't so bad at first, but now your poor clit was puffy and twitching, and even the most featherlight touches were too much. he'd been edging you with his fingers, his mouth, and a clit vibrator, and it was absolute torture. your head was swimming. your ears were ringing. and he still kept going. now, each time you were brought right to the edge, you found yourself quite literally screaming.

at this moment, bobby had just pulled the vibrator away from your spasming cunt, and you wailed, pulling at the restraints that kept you fastened to the headboard. "god fucking dammit! fuck!" you swore, voice hoarse, body jolting violently. and then, his big hand was resting against your chest, over your wildly hammering heart. "deep breaths, bunny," he urged, voice gentle, as if he wasn't currently punishing you. but you were still sobbing, tears running down your face.

"ca-can i h-have a kiss?" you managed to speak in between gasps. he smiled, leaning in to capture your lips in a loving kiss. you leaned into him, relishing in the feeling. the kiss grounded you, calming you down and keeping you from spiraling in a bad way. the thing about bob was, he would never, ever deny you affection. it didn't matter what kind of scene you were partaking in. both of you were allowed to seek out a hug or a kiss or comforting touch at any time.

now was no different. as you parted, he reached up to stroke your cheek. "doing so well for me, sweetie pie." the praise made you purr, and you felt as if you might float up into the ceiling. and then he pressed the vibrator to your clit again, and you nearly did float. his gentle affection had given you exactly what you needed to endure the rest of this scene. because although he had taken on the role of mean dom, you knew he still loved you so very much, and that love would shine through even the most intense of scenes.

#bob floyd x reader #asks #bob musings

99 notes · View notes

dead-lights · 6 months

Text

household // 1910s caleb & lilith & lily [DOWNLOAD]

It's so much fun throwing the Vatores into random historical eras. This is what you'll get if you throw my late Edwardian Zhu-Vatore household into your game! I may have gone a bit overboard.

↓↓↓ tl;dr household download link & required cc below the cut ↓↓↓

There's absolutely gorgeous Edwardian cc out there, so I collected it for you 💖

The Edwardian era was marked by excess and conspicuous consumption. They liked big hair and big hats, and by the end of the period people had come to agree that the sexiest shape a woman can be is cylindrical.

Caleb, Lily, and Lilith really pull off the look. Neither lady is particularly cylindrical, but they look great in these dresses and absolutely rock the Gibson Girl updo and fancy hats.

I aged Lily down and changed her hair color, removed Lilith's tattoos, and gave Caleb a basic dark form, but no other changes. I tried to make them cousins? But when I loaded the household onto my laptop, they weren't cousins anymore :(

You'll need Vintage Glamour, in addition to Vampires and Werewolves. A few of Caleb's outfits and his hair are from VG and you CANNOT pair side bangs with Edwardian clothing. It's a fashion law.

In order to cut back on the amount of cc, there's less variety of hats, hair, gloves, and shoes than I'd like. I also didn't include jewelry. If people are interested, I can put together a list of supplementary cc that can be swapped in.

Please tag me @dead-lights if you use these for anything! I'd love to see my pixel buddies walking around in other people's saves.

Now buckle up, y'all. This gets long.

download household [SFS]

Extract that into your Tray folder (in the same folder as your Mods folder). You should see the household in CAS when you open your gallery.

required cc

@happylifesims

fedora shape no. 2

peaky blinders outfit

wilbur outfit

1920s coat

rose's boarding outfit

rose's dinner dress

rose's lunch dress

rose's flying dress

rose’s jump dress

rose's swim dress

1910s day dress 01

my recolor of day dress 01

1910s day dress 02

1920s nightgown

@historicalsimslife

men's casual edwardian suit

edwardian men's underwear + sleep wear

edwardian women's hat + coat

edwardian women's nightgown

@gilded-ghosts

the hartfield shoes

summer swells dress

flower accessory

gilded gibson hair

fanny's finery gown (dropbox)

perfectly plain skirt

clair de lune nightgown (dropbox)

promenade dress

demure day dress (dropbox)

astor dress (direct link)

coquette corset (dropbox)

@linzlu

picnic tops 2 & 3

bathing belle

florence outwear (direct link)

miss scarlet evening gown

hattie dress (direct link)

vintage swimwear by @eirflower

duchess of xviii hat by @rustys-cc

white garden gloves by rustys-cc

sunday hair by @saurusness

season's greetings hat by @nolan-sims

edwardian satin bow pumps by @waxesnostalgic

knickerbockers by waxesnostalgic

gibson curl updo by @the-melancholy-maiden

vintage glam hat by @madlensims

avery skirt by madlensims

scholar vest by @magnolianfarewell

edwardian huntress dress by @elfdor

tyrell by @clumsyalienn

bespoke corset by @dzifasims

my recolor of bespoke corset

fur hat by @lilis-palace

carla by @buzzardly28

hattie dress by @dancemachinetrait

"tea time" vintage edwardian hat by shawnthesimmer

lingerie dress by @javitrulovesims

If you're trying to replace the default in-game:

move this household into wolfsbane manor with the default vatores, then delete the defaults

use mods/cheats to make the new lily the vatores' cousin (i think mccc and ui cheats can both do it)

move custom lily in with the volkov household - use cheats/mods to copy her default relationships if you'd like - and then delete default lily. you will also need to mod/cheat lily back into the moonwood collective if you want her to keep her position. all three characters still have their occult rank and powers. she does NOT keep her special moonwood mill gossip dialogue - not sure why.

TOU

don't put my stuff behind a paywall

don't claim my stuff as your own

don't violate the TOUs of the cc makers i've included

Please let me know if there are any problems - this is my first time putting up a household and I'm only mostly sure I did it right 😅 I managed to get it to work on my laptop, so there's that.

If you're just here for the download, you're done now! If you're interested in learning more about Edwardian fashion, let me ramble at you for a bit :)

my notes

This isn't the most historically accurate set, but I'm calling it close enough - if you're interested in learning more about the era, Edwardian Promenade is a great place to start.

Edwardians had really weird, complicated rules about hat and glove wearing. For most of these outfits, people would don and remove their hats and gloves based on social context - they shouldn't be wearing gloves when they eat, for example, but should always wear gloves when they're dancing. It's hard to find consistent information about the specific rules, but I've read excerpts from the Edwardian equivalents of Miss Manners and Good Housekeeping and they are fascinating.

I found some great reference images for sportswear from Silhouettes Costumes. Caleb's athletic outfit is based on this contemporary illustration. The unfastened bottom button is a nice detail to have - it was fashionable for men to leave the last button undone, as a nod to King Edward.

The ladies have 3 sleep outfits - the first are nightgowns that they would wear to sleep, the second are corsets, with other undergarments still on underneath, and the third are chemises, which were worn under their corsets - the underest part of the underwear, essentially.

For an in-depth explanation of Edwardian lingerie, check out The Fashion Archaeologist's Blog. For information about Edwardian nighttime hair care, check out Sew Historically.

The girls are wearing lingerie dresses for their hot weather outfits - lacy dresses made with the same materials & techniques as lingerie. These were good casual afternoon dresses, and were sometimes worn without a corset. Learn more about them from The Dreamstress!

#caleb vatore #lilith vatore #lily zhu #ts4 historical #ts4 lookbook #ts4 download #ts4 cc #s4cc #townie makeover #ts4 townie makeover #ts4 townie #ts4 premades #ts4 edwardian #ts4 1910s #ts4 vampires #ts4 werewolves #sim dump #dead-lights cc

74 notes · View notes

cas-skz · 1 year

Text

Reunite

Yunho x FEM!reader

| non-idol au | ex to lovers | smut/romance | 18+!!!

A end of summer get away brought you let friend group together for a weekend away at a beach house. While you’re still on good terms with your ex Yunho, the spark you felt for him never left.

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, possible water (sinking) trigger

[writers note]

I have a mild (jk it’s severe) case of delulu related gif now & needed a Yunho fic that was adorable but kinda tense since there’s gonna be more parts. Heheh

Enjoy!!!

cas xx

Somehow summer was already coming to an end. Your friends shared plans for when they get back to university, jobs they were working. It made your heart happy to be back with your high-school friend group, even if your ex was there.

Your eyes zoned out as you watched the bonfire burn, music from the rented beach house filled the yard. Everyone had most ly scattered to swim or drink in the house, but you wanted to sit and take in the moment.

“You look lonely.”

His voice was still so familiar to you, the deep but sweet tone you’d spent hours talking to. A cold can gently hit your shoulder and you glanced up at Yunho offering your favourite alcoholic drink.

He cracked it open with one finger as you took it into your hand, “Thanks.” You smiled softly, directing your eyes back to the fire as he took a seat on the log next to you.

“You still have a tendency to wander off on your own, huh?” He chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay, I guess.” You shrugged, taking a long drink. “How about you?”

Even after being broken up for almost 3 years, Yunho still brought you warmth and comfort whenever he was near. You didn’t dare to admit you still had feelings for him after all this time.

“Pretty good. I start a internship in New York in a couple of weeks.”

“You always wanted to go to New York. Congrats.”

His eyes flashed over to you, making your heart skip a beat. “I wanted to go to New York with you.” He paused, taking a drink before looking towards the ground. “Just kinda feels weird going alone.”

Your eyes stayed on him for a moment, scanning his features, his hands and arms. Yunho had gotten more and more attractive over the years,

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing. You’ve wanted this since high-school.”

The conversation went on for a while and everyone had headed inside while the two of you watched the fire slowly die down.

You remembered exactly why you fell in love with him. The way he told stories, but couldn’t help but laugh half way through. His smile, your favourite thing about him. You especially loved how he always checked to make sure you were okay as you continued to drink together.

Yunho had disappeared into the house to change clothes while you walked towards the late, eyes locked on the millions of stars in the sky. The moon reflecting off the water make everything look picture perfect.

Your mind drifted as you stripped to your underwear and bra, the drunken buzz made your body feel electric. You slowly walked into the water, letting your hands drag along the surface. When your feet couldn’t find ground anymore, you took a deep breath and sunk under the water.

The splash in the water shook you back to reality and almost immediately after you felt strong arms pulling you to the surface.

You gasped for air as you broke through the top of the water, Yunho immediately grabbed onto you in a panic. “What are you doing?!”

“I just…” your voice trailed as you looked at him. You weren’t actually sure why you had gone into the water, but it wasn’t with ill intentions. “I’m sorry…”

His hands were cupped around your jawline as your bodies floated in the water and you could feel your heart racing as you bobbed closer and closer to each other. Before you could say another word, his lips crashed into yours, sending chills through your body as he kissed you passionately.

Your emotions over came you as tears started to fall. You had been aching for him for so long that you couldn’t hold yourself back as you roughened the kiss.

Yunho followed your lead, pulling your core into his as he started to swim back towards the shore, sharing hot and heavy kisses as he did.

As you got to the shore, Yunho picked you up bridal style to carry you back towards the fire, now glowing embers that still radiated heat. A blanked laid out next to it is where you landed, lips still stuck to his as he hovered his body over yours.

You pulled him into you, muffling a soft moan as you felt his erection rub against your already throbbing clit. “Yuyu..” you gasped quietly as his hips grinder into yours.

Yunho’s lips travelled to your neck, sucking on your sweet spots that he remembered after all your time apart. His breath was hot and heavy in your ear, “I miss you so much,” he whined, moaning softly as his hips picked up speed.

“I need you.” You said shyly, reaching down to push down his sweat pants, allowing his stiff cock to rub against your clothed pussy.

It felt like you were melting from how aroused you had gotten, your mind already going blank as he pushed your panties aside and quickly found your entrance, teasing it before sliding inside.

Your nails dug into his back as he stretched you out, inching slowly inside before bottoming out and making you cum instantly.

You pulled his lips back to yours, breathing him in as your bodies became one under the moonlight. Time felt still as you spent the next hour or so tangled around each other, finally moving into a near by tent setup outside.

Yunho’s hands ran slowly up your back and sides as you laid on him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. If you could pause time for a while, you’d do it. Having him so close again felt so right, but it also torn you apart knowing he’d be gone again after the weekend.

“Y/N?”

“Yea?” Your looked up at him, a soft smile spread across his lips as your eyes met.

“Come to New York with me.”

268 notes · View notes

hunterevie · 2 months

Text

Story - Midnight Swim

Pairing - Castiel/Dean Winchester

Summary - Dean wants to go for a midnight swim and manages to persuade Cas to go along with it. Much to his confusion. In the end though, he enjoys the experience as much as his husband.

Word count - 1,345

Rating - Teen

“Dean, why are we doing this again?” Cas asked for the millionth time, making him want to strangle his husband. They had discussed it before he packed up baby, how Dean had heard about this new fad where you go swimming late at night. The coolness of the water and air was supposed to reinvigorate muscles, calm thoughts, aid sleep and improve brain power. Or that’s what people claimed, Dean didn’t really know the truth of it, he just fancied taking Cas for a nice swim and this seemed like a good excuse to do it.

“I’ve told you Cas. Moonlit swims are supposed to have fantastic health benefits. You know how stressed I’ve been lately, I thought it might be nice to try.” Quickly he stole a glance at his husband, who stared at him like he had lost his mind. Dean got it, it wasn’t like he was known for enjoying a swim. Especially after he had to jump in that lake and save that kid Lucas. But he wanted to try something new with Cas.

On arriving at the lake, Dean parked up baby close by. Briefly peering out at the still water, beautifully illuminated with the large moon in the sky. A full moon, he only hoped there were no werewolves around, that was the last thing they needed when he just wanted a nice relaxing swim with his husband.

“I’m going to get in the water. You can bring the towels and everything as I packed the car.” With that he opened the door and slid out, not giving Cas the time to ask the question that was on his lips. It didn’t take him long to strip down to his boxers, depositing the clothing on the top of baby shivering in the chill of the wind whipping around him. He considered just going all out, running over to the water and dive bombing into the lake, but caught himself. Maybe that was acceptable behaviour when he was in his 20s, but not nearly 45.

Instead, he ambled over to the jetty. Staring down into the dark void, wondering if this was a good idea now. But after his insistence that they were doing this, he couldn’t really back out. Cas would just be spending the rest of their eternity together saying that he ‘told him it was a bad idea.’ Hoping it would give him the courage to get in the water, Dean sat on the jetty. A hiss being released from his lips at just how cold the water was. Maybe Cas was right when they first got in the car, maybe this was a big mistake and he shouldn’t go any further. But damn, he really wanted to prove to his angel that a midnight swim would be amazing.

So, he persisted.

‘Cold, cold, cold, cold.’ Dean thought over and over again as he lowered himself into the water. The loud laugh from the car indicated that he had been projecting far enough for his husband to hear his complaints about the temperature. Knowing that Cas could hear him spurred him on, dropping even quicker into the lake in the hope the sudden shock of the cold would make it more bearable.

It wasn’t the case.

As he wandered around in that dark water, muttering annoyances at himself for this monumentally stupid idea, Cas finally wandered over, using his grace so that Dean was able to see him in the darkness. On his lips there was a soft smirk, one that suggested he was thinking ‘I told you so.’ Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Dean started to swim around, taking long strokes and making contented little noises of pleasure. The look on his husband’s face suggested it wasn’t working.

He really was a bad actor.

Needing to warm up, he started to swim a little faster. Hoping that the exercise would send a heat through his body, and he would no longer care about the coolness of the water of even the air. Thankfully, it started to work, and he was starting to understand why people raved about midnight swimming. He felt ridiculously calm, so much so that he could just float around for the rest of time, sleeping in that lake.

Probably not the safest thing to do.

“C’mon in Cas. It feels nice.” He finally said, feeling lonely floating around on his own. The response was that little head cock that Dean adored. But this wasn’t one he had thrown in confusion, more one to show he was considering the request. After nodding his head, he placed the towels down on the jetty, and went to get into the water fully clothed. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head; his husband could still be so monumentally dim about some human endeavours. “No Cas, strip to your boxers before you come in.” The angel stopped again, wondering if he should comply with Dean’s request, before shrugging his shoulders and using his grace to get undressed. His clothes now lay in a neat little pile on the jetty with the towels. Seconds later he was in the lake with Dean.

“Dean?” Cas asked, just as he was about to swim away from him. Stopping, he turned back to his husband.

“Hmm?!”

“This water is not as cold as you claimed it to be.” His mouth dropped open. Well of course Cas wouldn’t find it cold because he wasn’t a real boy. If he was back in his human form he’d be whining about it as much as Dean.

“Well it wouldn’t be to you Cas. You can regulate your temperate as an angel. You know I can’t.” He snorted when his husband just stared at him with those stupidly blue eyes. The ones that suggested ‘I know that Dean. Why are you telling me about my powers like I don’t know about them?’

He really was cute like this.

“Anyway, c’mon. Let’s go a little further out.” Dean said, swimming off. His husband following not far behind. When they got a little further, in the moonlit water, Dean stopped. Turning around and jumping on his husband. Arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tight, their faces only inches apart. Cas frowned, clearly unsure what was going on, but slid his own arms around Deans hips in a hug.

“Dean, what is this?” Cas asked. One of Dean’s hands came loose from the grip, reaching up to swipe a wayward hair from Cas’s head. A soft smile on his lips as he stared at the man he loved most in the world. There was something romantic about being in the middle of a lake, under the moonlight, in his husband’s arms.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you sweetheart?” His husband blinked a couple of times, likely confused as to why Dean was asking.

“All the time. What’s this about?” He asked again. Instead of answering, he leant down, pressing a tender kiss to Cas’s lips. Loving how warm he felt in the cool air. There was nothing particularly heated about the kiss. Their lips and tongues just lazily clashed. Arms held on tight as they poured as much affection into each kiss.

It really was quite beautiful.

“Nothing Cas. Just thought it was romantic and got caught up in the moment.” Dean finally responded. Cas’s eyes went incredibly soft. His hand came up to cup Deans cheek, staring deep into his own emerald green eyes.

“We can be anywhere in the world and I will find it romantic, as long as you are by my side.” With that Cas took his lips in his own again. Still kissing gently in the moonlit water. Their hands roaming over bodies as if trying to memorise muscles for the first time. They had no intention on going any further. Instead just kissing in that cool water until they were both exhausted. Two silhouettes entwined as one in the midnight breeze.

By the end, he could really understand the health benefits of a midnight swim.

#supernatural #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #misha collins #jensen ackles #writing #writing community #storytelling #short story #Cas and Dean in love #cute one shot #destiel stories #casdean #ao3 stories

23 notes · View notes

m1d-45 · 2 years

Text

small miracles

summary: washed up on the sands of ritou, inazuma’s famous helper lends you a hand.

word count: ~2k

-> warnings: n/a, just standard imposter au things. you are on the run, technically. very minor gore i guess(like veeeery tiny)

-> lowercase intended!

< masterlist > || second part >>

dirt collapses beneath your feet, your torn shoes skidding on the edge of the cliff north of liyue harbor. you can hear the waves lap at the rock thousands of feet below you, layered under the huffs of the people in front of you.

steel blades shine in the hot sun, the millelith wielding them just as fierce. you can see the hatred in their eyes, the need for your end, whether by the spears in their hand or the waters behind you. the only reason they haven’t struck is because of the woman behind the ring of them.

a dark oak pipe balances on the tip of ningguang’s finger, her eyes as sharp as their ruby hue. she lets it tip to one side, her head following the tilt, before she spins it back into her palm. every action is defined with grace, not so much as a hair out of place. every golden ornament shows off her prestige, her power, how without even lifting a finger she has you pinned in place against a cliff.

perhaps if you weren’t at risk of dying, you might feel different about it.

one of the millelith asks if they’re allowed to strike. the red tassel on her forehead swings as she shakes her head.

“no. this fake is not worth liyuen metal.” ningguang tucks the pipe away in a smooth motion, crossing one arm over her chest to rest the opposite elbow on it. a clawed finger swipes an invisible hair back into place on her bangs. “send them to the sea. their bones will serve as an excellent toothpick for osial.“

well, that was a horrific visual.

in an instant, the millelith spin their spears around, careful to keep the blades away from themselves and each other to jab to dull ends at you. behind them, ningguang barely looks fazed, examining a geo crystal in her hand. you know the nonchalance is manufactured, a subdued silence, but that doesn’t make it any better. she doesn’t care that she’s sending you to your death. she knows it, wants it, and what would the millelith be if they couldn’t remove one person from the tianquan’s presence?

your left foot is standing half on air. the part that is on ground is shaky, uncertain, dirt nowhere near as stable as stone.

you risk a look at ningguang.

ruby eyes are the last thing you see before you fall.

you wake up on a beach, sandy and exhausted. invisible wounds bleed harder as sand gets into them as you sit up to look around. your clothes are hard with saltwater, and it’s a miracle you made it here alive. though teyvat has been kind, fruit and clean water always within reach, you didn’t think that you would live long enough to hit land.

you stand—nearly falling—and shake out as much sand as you can, looking around. across the sea is a small island, within swimming range, but youre not inclined to explore when your limbs still feel so heavy. to your right, the beach narrows off, overtaken by the cliff behind you, but it seems to open up more to the left.

you decide to stumble that way, passing a spike of driftwood, and stop just as quickly.

you can see green roofs of houses, spires and what is maybe a watchtower in the distance, the architecture familiar. red and orange trees are interspersed between them, and your hopes fall.

you’d hoped you were in the stone forest. you’d hoped that you’d have a chance, knowing the abundance of hilichurls on the small islands, but now you’re…

you start walking, hoping to find some clues to prove your hunch wrong.

you see an okay looking boat, but youre preoccupied by the path branching to the left. wooden boards seem to make a walkway, and you step over them on your way inside. theres a small tent, a lantern, a block of supplies and a cooking pot. in the tent is a bed fashioned of hay, but embers light up the wood beneath the pot.

it would be a cozy enough place to stay, but you can’t risk whoever owns it coming back.

you head back the way you came and continue towards the city. the sand slides beneath your ragged shoes, but theres flowers following the breeze in the grass near the cliff. purple and a soft blue, they distract you long enough that a guard walks to their post further down the beach.

oh.

oh no.

you recognize the uniform, and the logo of the tenryou commission embossed on the armor. if inazuma is the same as any other nation—likely worse, considering the way its run—you need to avoid those guards at any cost.

you look to the cliffside. its steep, too steep to climb when youre still soaked from the sea.

you sigh, and decide to find another way up.

youre not quite sure how none of the guards saw you, but under the dwindling light of dusk, you manage to make to the southern(?) outskirts of what appears to be ritou.

…not that that means anything. you still don’t know how to get off the island, and trying to forcibly get deported will only result in an arrest. though there’s a food cart that most certainly can see you, the worker didn’t report you to the guards when they passed. you don’t remember her name, but know she sells some kind of food. maybe a fish dish? or was it egg? not that it matters, food is food, and if you’re lucky you’ll have enough mora for some.

you sit against a wall, checking your pockets. most of your stuff was either stolen or lost to sea, but your mora was still securely tied to your waist. after checking twice that you were out of people’s line of sight, you started to count, stacking the coins in piles of 10 on the grass in front of you. after a hundred, you moved them into one bigger pile.

you had more than you expected. though your pouch always seemed to weigh about the same, you didn’t think you could fit almost three thousand mora inside- or that you even had that. then again, chests typically had a few hundred, and you’d been pretty lucky in mondstat…

you set aside five hundred and hope it’s enough, but knowing teyvat’s economy… if salt was 60 mora, who knew how much you’d need?

whatever the case, you needed to eat. cradling the coins against you as you attach your pouch back at your waist, the go to move for the food stall.

your plans are dashed the second you stand.

a familiar face walked up the path towards the food stall, but quickly diverted towards you.

shit.

you step away, behind a tree, hoping against hope that he’d only seen somebody next to you instead of-

“hello there!”

you jump at how quickly thomas voice appeared at your side, taking another step back.

shit. that’s definitely him. weird horn headpiece, blonde hair, too-short jacket, dog tags and all.

you lick at your lips. they taste of salt. “hi?”

you hate how shattered your voice is. how quiet and rough it’s gotten.

“hey! i’m thoma.” he extends a hand, the small ribbon on the back of his glove rippling in the soft breeze. “it’s nice to meet you!”

you hesitate. it feels like you do a lot of that lately.

you remember him being affiliated with the kamisatos, which means he’s almost certainly heard of everything you’ve been accused of. but… there’s no way he would come up to you so casually if that was the case, right?

you want to trust him. you do. but there hasn’t been anybody else yet that you could.

carefully, you meet his hand with your own weak grip. the cloth on his gloves is leather, unsurprisingly, and though it is cold with the dusk chill, his fingers are warm. you have a feeling it’s from his vision, and your mind flickers to the last time you slept by a fire.

it’s been months.

“oh, you’re freezing! what are you doing outside?” his voice jumps a few octaves and his hand tightens around yours. “oh jeez, you’re going to catch a cold if you’re not careful. what are you doing without a coat in the middle of winter?“

is it winter? you don’t really remember the last time you knew the date for certain, but if that was true, then it was bad news. the clothes you wore you got from hilichurls and abyss mages, but the main enemies in inazuma were nobushi…

your worry must show on your face, because thoma’s frown deepens.

“now that i look at you… you’re not from inazuma, are you?”

you shake your head no.

“oh no… did you get caught up in the outlander affairs agency? they haven’t gotten any better after the decree, have they….”

“no, i-“ you cut yourself off with a coughing fit, tasting a bitter mixture of salt, blood, and bile climb up your throat. it’s disgusting, and alarmingly salty. you must have drank more ocean water than you meant to; it’s a wonder you didn’t choke on the trip over.

(how did you make it over? the distance from liyue to inazuma was too large for you to have simply floated, surely? but didn’t thoma himself float over?)

thoma’s other hand lands between your shoulder blades, patting lightly. “hey, it’s okay. it’s good you haven’t ran into the agency, but that cough doesn’t sound good at all…”

you adjust the tattered mask on your face, straightening and doing your best to look like you haven’t been on the run. “i’ll be fine.”

your chest tightens with the need to cough, but you set your jaw. you can’t afford to get involved with the yashiro commission. you’re certain the mora clutched in your grip is enough to buy you a decent meal and—alongside the rest of it—some kind of warm herbal tea.

gentle green eyes catch the money in your palm and widen. you can see the gears clicking inside his head, and he speaks before you can.

“is that all the mora you have?”

“i-“

“and you don’t even have a- ah, i can’t leave you out here like this. could you come with me to the teahouse? there’s a waypoint just inside ritou, and i’d feel a lot better if i could get you some tea and clean clothes. it won’t be the fanciest, but i know there’s some spare sets and anything would be better than risking an illness. inazuman winters aren’t kind, and the shogun hasn’t been in the best mood as of late.”

the pros and cons weigh in your head. you could go with somebody you know is kind, and get what is certainly good food and hot drinks with clean clothes to boot. or, you could risk walking into a trap with, arguably, one of the most influential people in the yashiro commission at least, if not all of inazuma. it’ll either be the best choice you’ll ever make, or one that’ll land you in front of tenshukaku in chains.

thoma picks up on your hesitation, taking his hand off your shoulder and giving you space, though he keeps your hands linked. “can i at least bring you some dinner, then, if you don’t want to come with me? or a blanket? or- or something?“

he’s awfully worried for somebody he just met. you’re not sure if his determination is evidence of his benevolent nature, or if he’s trying to make you trust him as he calls over some shogunate soldiers.

…you also can’t decide if it’s your desperation for connection with somebody you can rely on or your need for a better environment that makes you agree.

maybe his bright smile has something to do with it. or the comforting warmth in his hands as he leads you away? maybe it’s the way he holds you tightly against him after you ask to go to the teahouse and are nearly sick coming out of the teleporter.

or maybe, by chance, it’s the light in his eyes when you say ‘thank you’.

#i am very quickly running out of title ideas help #‘oh use the ones they had’ this one was just titled ‘thoma :))’ so.#genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau thoma #thoma x reader #thoma #genshin thoma #sagau impostor au #self aware genshin #this one was meant to be longer whether alone or with another part but i liked this ending better #if you want a part two ask and i’ll probably do it because thoma #to the one person on remorse who asked for a pt. 2: no #because kazuha is sad and that’s the end of that one #anyway i don’t think i should get in the habit of filling my tags with nonsensical rants so drink water n shit bye #ok i lied what the fuck is that layout. i’m trying to be ~pretty~ but it. is not working.#fuck it i’ll post this at 8:46 in the middle of my chemistry class #amendment: 8:51 i needed a title

605 notes · View notes

eschergirls · 4 months

Text

It's been 2 weeks so it's time to choose the May caption contest winners!

I got a lot of entries this month and they were all really excellent. One of the entries by zombiemollusk even edited the text into the text bubble (the image attached to this post). So it was hard to choose winners. Because of all the entries, I decided to choose 3 winners and 2 runner ups. .

Each winner will get to choose a prize if they wish (but you don't have to, you can just participate for fun too.) The prizes are extra Steam codes that I've acquired through bundles over the years and I figure that giving them out for contests would be fun. Runner ups can get a prize if any of the winners decline

Anyway here are the entries, grouped by the platform they were submitted on:

Fedi/Mastodon:

Charles T: - C'mon, we need to keep rehearsing for Dancing With The Mutants! - ugh, could you dance me over to a bucket? May Keable: Based on the recent TikTok trend I said ”Stick ’em up everybody, I’m robbing this place Drop all of your money in my guitar case Don’t nobody move and don’t nobody reach for that door" Ordinating Aether Show: - It is done! With this new development, they can no longer ignore my work! - You mean...? - Yes! I've created characters that are flatter than their speech bubbles! Taco Blacc: "I'm glad I finally got my Horny Sword" "...but I didn't expect it to be this big! And flexible!

Disqus:

Imry: I'm gonna fix that stiff back one way or another! Extreme Swedish Massage Attack!!! Leak: Left bubble: "This girl..." Right bubble: "Needs more DAKKA!" MaryKaye: Copper-hair girl: Engage battering ram mode! Girl in red: OMG they *told* me not to wear a red shirt!

Tumblr:

@anna-neko: calm my tits? No! Here we lock and loading them glorious missiles @avatarrubybelladonna: "Hey, c'mon! I thought you loved being the baseball bat!" @beforelunacy: DAMMIT BRENDA! I told you not to go through the perfume department!! @chasedbybuildings: 'I'm gonna pull your legs off! Mine are all wonky and I need a new pair!' @chaoscheebs: EXTREEEEEEEEEEEME SWING DANCING! @differenttriumphdragon: Go Go Gadget Cleavage Gun! @dm-me-your-weltanschauung: Balloon One: Watch closely class, this is a right angle. Balloon Two: Next we'll be demonstrating the obtuse and acute angles. @harukami: Carrying a teammate's body is hard enough without the rigor mortis! @ichaserabbits: Just turn me sideways and use me like a battering ram @insanityisfine: I'll beat that motherfucker with this motherfucker! @milkawa-and-co: "I know you're new at this job, but stop throwing around the clothes mannequins !" @terminatedapathy: "Stop! Stop swimming in mid air! You're scaring the hoes!" @twilight-owl: "Why would anyone make a mannequin in this pose! It can't even stand up!" @zombiemollusk: "Heave... ... HO!!!" "who are you calling a h- WOAH!"

The honorable mentions go to: @dm-me-your-weltanschauung and Leak!

The runner-ups are:

In third place: @anna-neko: calm my tits? No! Here we lock and loading them glorious missiles

In second place: @differenttriumphdragon: Go Go Gadget Cleavage Gun!

And the winner is... @zombiemollusk: "Heave... ... HO!!!" "who are you calling a h- WOAH!"

Congratulations to the winners and also thank you so much to everybody who participated!

Please stay tuned for a new caption contest in June!

If you won and would like a Steam code as a prize, please message me with which prize you would like. If you came in 2nd, message me with 2 choices in order of preference... I'll give you your top choice that hadn't been taken by the other winners. (To clarify, every winner only gets 1 prize, but winners other than the one in first place should give me their list of games in order of preference so if one is taken, I'll give you the next on the list. It makes it easier for me to hand out the prizes.)

If either the winner or the runner up don't claim a prize, then the honorable mention gets a prize if they want one.

The Steam codes I have available as prizes are for: Castle Crashers, Hotel Giant 2, Latte Stand Tycoon +, Rage in Peace, Riot: Civil Unrest, Shattered - Tale of the Forgotten Kings, Steel Storm: Burning Retribution, The Hong Kong Massacre, Trifox, and Uncertain: Light At The End.

#sexualized in defeat #WTF clothing #madelyne pryor #madelyne pyre #Jena Pyre #Jean Grey #The Phoenix [Marvel Comics]#caption contest #caption contest winners

24 notes · View notes

kstewdeux · 3 months

Text

@inukag-week | InuKag Week 2024 - Personal Space | Also on Ao3

Panic began to rise within him. His chest tightened, and he struggled to find a way out of the throng of villagers with their mudslide of praise for having defeated the weak ass demon who’d been hurting their harvest. Something about fears over winter, starvation, disease and god only knew what else because his own thoughts had turned to static. Dozens of voices melting together into a noxious soup that drowned out all else. A veritable ocean of bodies clawing at him, rushing him, attempting to pull him under and drown him.

‘Can’t hurt them. Can’t hurt them.’

Inuyasha could feel his palms sweating while his mind raced to come up with a plan of escape. But every direction he looked, there were only more people. Tightly packed together, packed against him, and all moving as one. Snapping pearly whites far, far too close to his hands, his arms, his face.

‘Can’t hurt them. Can’t-‘

The putrid stench of sweat and the sound of shouting were overwhelming. He couldn't think clearly, couldn't find a way to break free. All he could focus on was the need to find space, to breathe freely again but-

‘Can’t-‘

Someone grabbed his wrist, tugging him sideways with all their might, managing to make him stumble and in a blind panic, he roughly pushed them away with a hard thrust of palm.

Blood.

Panting heavily, dilated amber eyes darted over the waves of people in the overly crowded street to try and find the source but his vision blurred instead and a high pitching ring had his head swimming. He found himself mindlessly trying to back away only to be rudely reminded he was surrounded. More hands. More voices. More more more-

And then, without realizing he’d moved at all, he was inside a dark hut. A door slid shut behind him as he trembled out of control and tried to regain his bearings. He collapsed onto his knees instead and it was then, only then, as he stared down at his bloodied palm, that he realized…

“Kagome,” he breathed as he scrambled to his feet to go fix the damage he’d apparently caused at some point only to nearly trip over the girl herself who apparently was sitting next to him with two pieces of cloth stuck in her nostrils.

“No.”

“I’m fine. It’s not even broken,” she soothed as he dropped into a crouch and frantically tried to inspect the damage, "I just...fell. That's all. Not your fault."

That was a lie, he was sure it was, but Inuyasha couldn't even remember how to form words much less get into a fight about that right now. He wasn't even sure if he could stand again. He-

A furtive glance towards the door confirmed the rest of their friends, save one, were here. Sango was blocking the door and outside was the mob and if-

“Miroku is outside trying to calm the crowds down,” Sango replied to the unspoken question with an exasperated sigh, “I’ve never seen a village get this worked up. You would’ve thought we handed them a lifetime supply of rice. Gold. Riches. Something.”

“The relief must’ve made them crazy,” Shippo offered shakily. Kagome started trying to catch Inuyasha’s panicked gaze.

“Just focus on me,” she hummed sadly as Inuyasha continued to twitch out of control – his head whipping occasionally to the entryway like he half-expected the mob to break in here and swarm him again. A warm hand cautiously reached out before gently taking the shell of his ear between two fingers and lightly massaging the downy flesh. Oxygen flooded the room and Inuyasha's eyes fluttered closed.

"There we go. Just focus on me," Kagome's warm voice soothed as her other hand reached up to give the neglected ear the same treatment, "There we go. Just breathe."

The room began to spin and with a miserable groan, Inuyasha spread out on the ground so he didn't just careen there. Kagome applied slightly more pressure and the tension started to melt out of his locked up muscles.

"There we go. Just focus on me," she repeated. His head was gently lifted and deposited into a warm lap. Fingers carded through his hair.

"Just focus on me."

#inukag week 2024 #inukag week #inukag fluff #inukag #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #inukag fanfic #inuyasha x kagome

29 notes · View notes

abitlikelemon · 2 months

Text

Before I get any further into the 1900's, let's take a quick moment to reflect back.

For anyone just joining us, I am currently playing through a cc free (ish) decades challenge. I'll post expanding on what the (ish) means at some point, but I'm doing this for a number of reasons, the big one is I want to know if you can do it. Can you dupe the vibes well enough to feel emersed during each decade? I've got all the packs. This is easily a thousand-dollar game I now have. Yes, I am ashamed saying that. But, with all this money spent, I should be able to make this work.

With the 1890 decade complete, I wanted to share how I dressed or wished I had dressed my sims during this decade. Posts like this, shout out to out to Ashubii, really helped me along the way- so I want to return the favor to the community.

To start: -I am using zero CC clothing, hair, accessories etc. -I do have some "body" cc (lashes, skin overlay, body blush) -I am not a CAS simmer, so I'm not revolutionary in my styling -Between the limitations of what is available in game and my basic knowledge of the decade, don't expect accuracy just inspiration -If you want to know what pack an item is from, please ask! I am very WCIF friendly

I think it's also a good callout that I played the 1890s very 'country' focused. The 1900s outfits I have planned, I think, could easily work for 1890s if you were starting in more of a 'city' so come back for that post if you need fancier inspiration!

Here we have our main man, Bobert Pancakes showing off his everyday, formal, athletic, sleep, party, and cold weather outfits. He was a farmer, so his outfits were simple, and repetitive. His swim wear was his sleepwear, minus the socks, and his hot weather was his athletic wear plus the bandana from his every day- so I just saved a little room and left those off.

Here's Eliza 'I don't have a favorite child' Pancakes rocking an extra outfit because you know she has to be showing off. I have her everyday, formal, athletic, sleep, party, hot weather, cold weather outfits. Eliza is pretty country, maybe a little more than she would have liked. So, her outfits are also simple, repetitive, but with an extra bow. Her swimwear was a dress from Eco Lifestyle- but she never swam so I'm leaving it out, though you can see mouse nose Nora wear it in some gameplay screenshots.

Speaking of Nora! I grabbed her to show off some teen outfits. Though, these are more outfits I wished I dressed her and Hazel in. I also grabbed Arthur, Herbert, and Walter to show off their actual outfits. I've got, for the boys, an everyday for Walter and Arthur and party for Herbert. Nora is styling everyday, hot weather, and party. I dressed the teens, mostly, like adults because teenagers weren't really a thing in 1890, so I imagine they are wearing a lot of hand-me-downs. What I like about the outfits above is that they blend in the 1890s with newer fashion I will be including in the 1900s, I wish I did more of that sooner. I imagined those pieces were the few new items Eliza made for them.

So! Here we have Thomas rocking everyday, formal, party, hot weather, and cold weather. Hazel is wearing everyday, sleep, and formal. Children are tough to dress. Or, rather, dressing Hazel and the gals in this age group was painful. Some of her outfits are so bad, I won't share them. If you wanted to get a little CC in your life, this would be a spot I'd consider adding to. I was feeling so limited because all the skirts are short or very themed to Island Living. Swatches also were very modern, so there just felt like a million restrictions. You can see in the rest of the outfits, I have a preferred color pallet, so Hazel stands out (to me) like a sore thumb in comparison.

I'm grouping infants and toddlers together and, for the first time, showing off Aunt Sylvia and Uncle Harold's children. This is where my lack of interest in CAS really stands out. I do actually think this age group has good options but... I don't careeeeee. Again, I'm not a CAS simmer and this is where it shows. Generally, my toddlers and infants aren't going to events or honestly even leave the house. They are also this ae for only a few days. So, I repeated these looks for almost every little one. This is also probably why I couldn't tell the Pancakes' kids apart until they hit childhood/teens.

I hope this was as fun to skim over as it was to compile! Again, super open to questions or honestly suggestions. I'm having so much fun with this challenge I'm already thinking about doing it again, so I'd love ideas for the next round!

#ts4 historical #ts4 #ts4 decades challenge #pancakes decades challenge #decades challege #pdc gen 1 #ccfree #cc free decades challenge #the sims 4 #sims 4 decades challenge

19 notes · View notes

novajeon · 2 years

Text

Face 2 Face: Jungkook

⇿ Member - Jungkook

⇿ Genre - smut

⇿ Warnings - fingering, squirting, slight breast play, Jungkook has jokes, oral (female receiving.)

❐❦➫✘✝︎☯︎♋︎♡⚡︎☽☹︎➂❣︎✰ ❐❦➫✘✝︎☯︎♋︎♡⚡︎☽☹︎➂❣︎✰❐❦➫✘✝︎☯︎

“I’m bout to drop the pin to the location to my place.”

“📍” It was code for “I’m horny.” Only you and Jungkook knew it and were allowed to use it in emergency situations. So as you found yourself laying in your bed at 2 am, lonely, sad and horny you thought that now was the most appropriate time to send off that save me text. After about ten minutes of waiting you hear his car pull in your driveway. A small smile appears on your face as you hear him putting in the pin to open the door. He didn’t need to yell for you because he already knew where you were. You sat back and listened to his footsteps get closer until your door opened to reveal Jungkook behind it. “That kind of night huh?” He smirks as he removes his shirt. “I didn’t think you would mind.” You say shyly. You always felt bad when you texted the code word because Jungkook would always drop everything he was doing no matter what time it was. “I don’t.” He reassures you, climbing in bed next to you. “I wouldn’t have came if I did.” He says.

His hand finds it’s way to your leg rubbing up your thigh until his hand meets your panty less center beneath the loose t-shirt you had on. “You were prepared, yeah?” He teases. “Course I was… I always am when I hit your line,” was your response. The shit eating grin that appeared on Jungkooks face tells you he appreciated the fact that you actually took the time preparing for his arrival. “Lay back, baby girl,” he demands with a gentle push to your shoulder. Your body instantly relaxes into the mattress, hands instantly finding his hair and tangling into his curls like a web as soon as he dives his head towards your center. “Damn, baby, you’re soaked,” he says with surprise. You can’t help but smile as you look down at him. “I really hope you can swim,” you say with a wink. Jungkook smirks, pushing your legs upwards before pinning them down with the force of his veiny hands. “I’ll have you know I placed first on my schools swim team. If anybody can backstroke this shit it’s me!” He says proudly before diving in.

His tongue licking the first stripe up your clit from your dripping pussy. Jungkook could have swore he never saw your back arch as much as it did. “Don’t break your back, hunny that’s my job,” you could feel his smirk between your thighs which only turned you on more if that was humanly possible at this point. “Fuck you, Jeon,” you roll the eyes that were already in the back of your head. Jungkook never skips a beat. His fingertips were doing a mean job digging into the skin of you thighs as his tongue concentrated on the random shapes he was making on your clit. “Lift your shirt up,” he demands. Now, normally he would be the one removing any clothing off your body, but giving the fact he was tongue deep inside your pussy at this very second he needed some kind of assistance unless he wanted to stop for two fifths of a second… and you both know neither of you wanted that to happen!

Once your white t-shirt was lifted above your breast, your hands gripped both of them. You could say it was out of habit, but you knew Jungkook enjoyed it when you played with your boobs. “That’s right, baby girl, play with your titties for me,” as if the pleasure couldn’t have got more intense leave it up to you to change that by playing with your titties. “Fuck me, Kook it feels so good!” You moaned. Head moving side to side as you make a pitiful attempt in moving your legs. “Don’t fucking run away from me,” Jungkook says with gritted teeth as his grip around your thighs becomes tighter. He begins making slurping sounds as his lips wrap around your clit. The vibrations from his mouth making it harder and harder for you not to come undone. “Kook… so close,” you warn, lower lip bitten as you grip your breasts harder. Jungkook releases your right leg so he can enter two of his tattooed fingers inside of your dripping pussy. “God,” Jungkook groaned as you sucked his fingers inside without any hesitation. He scissors them in fastly as he watches your liquids coat his tatted digits.

“Oh, God, baby… fuck right there!” You yell. Your hands now on the side of you fisting the sheets as Jungkook finds himself hovering over you. “Gonna make a mess for me?” His words edging you along further as his fingers hit that certain spot inside you. “C-coming… I-I’m coming,” your legs come up to wrap around his waist, but Jungkook pins them back down as you squirt around his fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he groans. His fingers stilled deep inside you as your juices gush out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, legs shaking profusely beneath him as your lay in the aftermath of the climax Jungkook brought to you. His wet fingers swipe up your clit before making their way to his mouth for a final “taste test.” After sucking off every digit like his life depended on it, Jungkook brought his hands to your hip bones massaging all the way down to your legs and up your thighs. He repeated that motion until the shaking was under control. “You ok, love?” He asked. You looked up at him and smiled softly.

“Flip me to the other side.”

•end•

#Spotify #bts x reader #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #send in requests #send me asks #ask #ask me stuff

862 notes · View notes

theseshipsshallsail · 7 months

Text

Summary:

The minutes soon blur in such blissful suspension, and as the unshuttered windows turn an inky black, Oliver immerses himself in the whens, wheres and inestimable hows of their blossoming reality. What he and Elio share defies definition, yet the idea of losing it is truly abhorrent. He needs this. Needs them. Everything they’re capable of being together. The promise and potential contained therein. There’s no turning back even if he wanted to, and drawing a hand up Elio’s flank he rests his chin upon his sweat-damp crown. Wonders when the hummingbird-flutter at his core became love, before deciding maybe it always has been, and he was just too afraid to acknowledge it.

The Difference Between Possible And Impossible (Lies Mainly In Determination)

He’d been dreaming, Oliver realises, as a drunken holler from the Piazza Navona interrupts the doze he had zero warning of slipping into. His mind’s eye transporting him to the villa’s orle of paradise. Elio swimming lazy laps in a set of borrowed bathers. The next day’s pages for Signora Milani all but forgotten as he apricated from head to toe; donning his tinted Persols in deference to the azure sky above.

In all honesty, the scene mirrors memory more so than imagination, and the sluggish warmth it leaves in Oliver’s veins feels pleasantly reminiscent of the vintage scotch he’d savoured his final night in B. At Annella’s insistence, dinner was a family affair in light of his imminent departure, but with the feast devoured and dishes cleared, the professor ushered him to the study for a well-earned digestif. The pair of them discussing his varied plans for Rome, even as a sombre rendition of Debussy’s Clair de Lune drifted from the living room opposite; tearing at Oliver’s heartstrings with every mournful chord.

“Ice, born of fire, that in turn holds fire,” his mentor mused at length, swirling the mahogany liquid in his lead-crystal tumbler. “È notevole… is it not? How under the right circumstances, something so obstinate as sand itself can be transformed entirely. Reborn, one might say, to the inverse of its maker.”

In terms of subtlety it left a lot to be desired, and Oliver’d masked his quiet desperation behind a measured sip, unable to quash the hard knot of regret that threatened to choke him. Regret, that fails to exist in the liminal twilight of their Corso del Rinascimento hotel room. Banished, as it was, the second they’d watched the plastic wall clock outstrip the hour of his flight’s departure.

He’s been damn-near euphoric ever since.

Giddy as a ninth-grader playing truant.

For the first time in years, he’s chosen the road less travelled, but with Elio in his corner - and sheer determination to guide him - Oliver’s certain that together they’ll move mountains if necessary, to forge a path that’s theirs and theirs alone.

Again, a commotion starts up in the streets outside. Several joyful voices raised in concert. Oliver doesn’t recognise the song - though it’s somewhat harmonious compared to his own rendition of Fenesta Ca Lucive with the German tourist - and a helpless smile graces his lips when Elio grumbles in response; letting loose a snuffling snore alongside his collarbone.

The gossamer gleam from the balcony gilds his features in a diffuse palette: covetous swaths of rosé and gold that chase the encroaching shadows from his sleeping form. It’s grounding, Oliver finds. The steady exhalations that tickle his Adam’s apple. The rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders; perfectly in sync with his newly unshackled lungs. They’re two halves of a whole - cut from the same cloth - and rubbing the grit from his scratchy eyelids he moulds a palm to Elio’s slender waist, sighing in contentment when the other man burrows closer, one leg inveigling itself between the snug harbour of his thighs.

Wonders when the hummingbird-flutter at his core became love, before deciding maybe it always has been, and he was just too afraid to acknowledge it.

In due course, blunt-nailed fingertips splay across his sternum; crafting a subconscious chord above his too-full ribs. Elio’s lashes are a charcoal smudge against his cheek, and the rumbling purr that escapes his throat invokes a mental slideshow of their wanton activities earlier. Unsurprisingly, the earthy scent of passion hangs thick in the muggy air; overpowering the honeysuckle sweetness adorning the trellis outside. The salty ghosts of tears, also, shed by two star-crossed lovers who’d feared being reduced to a cautionary tale: a Grecian tragedy for the modern age.

Schmaltzy, perhaps, but their truth is inescapable, and at the first sign of Elio stirring beside him, Oliver can’t help but press a lingering kiss to the riotous curls at his temple.

No more speeches, he thinks, as Elio arches like a pampered tomcat.

“I swear I’ll make you happy,” he whispers instead, and the thousand-watt grin that follows settles deep and thrilling and forever in his soul.

#call me by your name #cmbyn fanfic #elio x oliver #new fic #cmbyn #armie hammer #timothée chalamet

41 notes · View notes

seramilla · 5 months

Text

Part 1 | Part 2

Carmilla sits up sharply at her desk, head swimming and thoughts racing from suddenly being jarred awake. The room is dark, and the large windows of her office show the expanse of Pentagram City at night, indicating the late hour. The streetlights, the ones that aren’t busted out, anyway, shine with an eerie orange-red hue that almost exaggerate the shadows around them. One poor soul stands nervously beneath one of them, as if he thinks the illumination will protect him out on the street in this damned city.

As if by thinking it, she’d set what happens next in motion, the leg of the small demon standing under the street light is suddenly yanked by a disembodied claw twice its size. The diminutive creature trips, landing in the dirt and screaming, clawing at the ground fruitlessly as the giant claw that has him quickly drags him into the shadows.

All is quiet again after that. Carmilla feels sorry for the poor creature, but everyone down here knows not to go out at night. And if one absolutely must, they usually know to stick to the shadows, quiet and out of sight. There are things living in those shadows, but it’s much safer than drawing attention to oneself by leaving them.

Carmilla sighs, stretching her back to reignite stiff bones and joints from when she’d been hunched over her desk. She soon realizes what’s awoken her when a small hand lands on her shoulder. An awkward, slight cough breaks the silence of the room, almost meek and timid, when it doesn’t have to be. It’s well past the working hour, and the girl knows she can let the pretense of professionalism go in Carmilla’s presence. She rarely does.

Carmilla smiles to herself, turning her head to look at her eldest daughter with sleepy eyes.

“Mom,” Odette says, shortly, matter-of-fact. “It’s late. I thought I should wake you, so you can go to bed. It’s not good for your back to sleep like that.”

Carmilla chuckles. Leave it to Odette to sweat the small things. Her eldest is such a worry wart, and cares so much about her mother. It’s exceedingly endearing.

“Thank you, mija,” Carmilla replies, standing tall out of her chair, reaching her arms above her head and giving her ligaments a proper stretch this time. “But what are you still doing here?”

Odette flushes, not expecting this question. Glancing over at the clock, Carmilla notices it’s almost midnight.

“I wanted to wait up for you,” Odette admits. “I didn’t want you going home alone.”

Carmilla stands in front of her daughter, noting the absence of her telltale lab coat. She’s left in her black turtleneck and practical work slacks. The least Odette could have done is go home and change out of her work clothes.

“I can always get Zestial to portal me home,” Carmilla replies, running her large claws through Odette’s golden hair, cupping the side of her girl’s face affectionately. Her daughter’s expression remains deadpan, devoid of emotion. Carmilla notices the bags under her eyes. Carmilla wonders if her daughter will ever learn to listen to her own advice, and take care of herself.

“Still…” Odette says, looking up at her. “Everyone else has left. I don’t like you being here alone. What if…?”

Carmilla smirks. “What if, what?”

Odette shakes her head, as if not even wanting to entertain the possibilities. “I just don’t like it.”

Carmilla bends down, running her claws through Odette’s hair again, and kissing the top of her head. She breathes in slowly, taking in the familiar scent of her girl, while Odette just stands there, taking it.

“Mom,” Odette quips, getting a little annoyed.

“Indulge me,” Carmilla answers, pulling Odette into a hug. Odette sighs into her mother’s chest, defeated. She’s never been a strong advocate for overt displays of affection. That’s more Clara’s thing. Even so, she will indulge her mother if she asks kindly. Carmilla squeezes her tightly, exaggerating the motion with a funny little “Mmmm!” sound. Odette groans again into her chest. She may not be an actual baby anymore, but to Carmilla, she will always be her little one.

It always brings her great enjoyment to remind her eldest of that fact. She’s tempted to pick her up and hold her, just to drive the point home. But Carmilla thinks better of it. Odette has been a grown woman for a while now, and continuing to infantilize her only makes her more distant. Even though Carmilla is still so much larger than her children, they are still strong and fierce in their own right. Odette, especially.

It’s so good to see them spread their wings, but it also makes her motherly heart ache.

Carmilla pulls away from her daughter, and Odette straightens her disheveled glasses that had been smushed to her face by Carmilla’s body. Carmilla begins gathering her things, and Odette breaks the silence again, a little more serious this time.

"Also," Odette says, clearing her throat. "Someone left a message on the call screener while you were out of it. It's not a number I recognized, so I let it go to voicemail."

"Thank you, darling," Carmilla replies, sorting through her stack of important papers and pocketing her keys. "I'll check it momentarily."

"Okay," Odette nods, “I’ll wait in the hall.” Turning on her heels, she walks out of the office like Carmilla’s little soldier.

Carmilla realizes she’s going to need to use both hands to get all the papers she needs for these new prototypes home. Rather than burden her daughter again by asking her to carry another mess, Carmilla narrows the stack down to just the most important ones, then turns her attention to the switchboard answering machine.

Flipping over a few screens, she notices she does indeed have a single voicemail waiting for her. Pressing play, she presses the speaker button and settles into her chair, steeling herself for another incessant tirade from the Vees, or another request from Katie Killjoy wanting to know the details of Carmilla’s generous “donation” to the Hazbin Hotel right before the Extermination.

Carmilla hears none of these. In fact, she almost doesn’t recognize the voice she does hear, because it’s been so long since she’s heard it.

“Hello, Carmilla,” the soft, dulcet tone says over the tinny speaker of her office phone. The voice pauses, as if knowing that Carmilla will need a few seconds to compose herself after it dawns on her who is calling. “It’s Sera. I know you’re probably terribly concerned to hear from me again. I assure you, it’s for a good reason. Please sit down before you listen to this.”

Carmilla is already sitting. She’s grateful for that, because otherwise, she may have ended up on the floor. Her claws grip the plush leather on the arms of her office chair; it takes everything in her not to rip right through the fabric. Her teeth clench, biting her tongue so hard, tears start forming in her eyes.

“There’s been a development,” Sera continues. “This may seem inconceivable, but please listen. It appears that the child of the Morningstar was…well, after the Extermination, someone…It appears that Lucifer’s daughter has accomplished something no one thought possible. A soul that perished during the Extermination has somehow manifested here in Heaven. Right now, only you, myself, and another of my…associates are aware of the implications. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Carmilla is beside herself with emotion. She’s doing her best to pay attention to the words, but she’s still so focused on the fact that it’s Sera who’s calling her. The news that one of Charlie’s patrons may have ascended is surprising; but honestly, it would have to be something exceedingly miraculous such as this for Sera to get her involved. In that case, it must be true, at least as far as Sera knows.

“Things are tenuous here in Heaven,” Sera explains, admitting more than she probably should to Carmilla in that moment. That news doesn’t surprise Carmilla. Things have been less than stable in Heaven for much longer than the realm’s leadership cares to acknowledge. “As I’m sure you’re aware by now, Adam is gone. His army is restless. Heaven hasn’t faced this much uncertainty in millennia, and I fear this is only the beginning of more problems for Hell. The elders are worried about an all-out war. This factor of redemption may send everyone over the edge. I need…I can’t go to Lucifer for this. I don’t know where else to turn.”

Sera pauses again, as if the next part is physically painful for her to get out. She sighs, and her voice trembles, with some degree of grieving.

“I could use your council. I am on very thin ice here. Please, I — there’s no one else I trust more, Carmilla. There never was. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened between us, but — can we meet? In person?”

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #odette hazbin hotel #sera hazbin hotel #fanfic ideas #storymapping

28 notes · View notes