#hot water dispenser for home

[unxstatic]

[hydrofluxsg]

How to Choose the Best Air Purifier for Dust Mites: Key Features to Look For

Dust mites are microscopic pests that can lead to endless issues. These small pests can be found in any home, especially well-establish themselves in warm and humid areas. The dust mite is a nightmare for allergic persons. They can also trigger sneezing, itching, and, in some cases, respiratory distress. That is why it becomes very important to find the best air purifier for dust mites. 

Find an air purifier that can remove dust mites from the air to keep your home healthful. But which one do you choose? And that brings us to the top features you should consider.

Read Full Article here : https://www.whizolosophy.com/category/overall-health/article-column/how-to-choose-the-best-air-purifier-for-dust-mites-key-features-to-look-for

[amglowsg]

Best Water Dispensers for Office Use in Singapore

Choosing the correct water dispenser for office Singapore is critical to keeping employees hydrated and satisfied. Modern water dispensers include hot and cold water options, energy efficiency, and modern filtration technologies to ensure clean, safe drinking water.

Whether you choose a freestanding or countertop type, there are many of alternatives to suit your office size and budget. Investing in a high-quality water dispenser benefits both health and productivity, making it an excellent addition to any business. Explore different models to find the best fit for your Singapore office needs.

Official Website: https://amglow.com/blog/why-water-dispensers-are-perfect-for-home-use

[cimmanonrowl]

OMG I love dbf trope 🫣… could I req dbf!Hotch and reader where they’re secretly dating and the team accidentally catches them on a date together or something similar to that?

lowkey

There must be something with the coffee. Or the new water dispenser in the BAU breakroom. For a couple of weeks, Aaron Hotchner seemed to be in the best mood everyone in the Bureau has seen in a long time. And well, the mystery was solved when the team caught you both red-handed on a date.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x rossi!reader

Theme: fluff mallows

Content: age gap, cheesy date, secret relationship.

Rumor has it that SSA Hotchner was dating someone.

Even you have heard the whispers in the hallway, the gossip they spread in the breakroom, and even the cautious murmurs in the elevator. For many weeks, the team had been a target of all faux inquiries in different conference rooms before every meeting started; all pertaining to when Aaron Hotchner found his happiness. And who the lucky woman was.

They know Aaron has a special someone. They just don’t know who it was– no, scratch that. They just don’t know it was you. 

“I’m not saying this because I don’t like seeing him happy...” Emily murmured to you and Morgan, who was already filling his third mug of searing coffee for the day. “But he’s acting too happy lately, it’s starting to freak me out.”

Emily leaned against the counter, quietly observing Hotch from a distance with her red lips pursed and suspicious eyes. As you turned around, you saw Aaron caught in an interesting conversation with Reid; a big, endearing smile lighting up his usually stoic and serious face.

Morgan shook his head as he looked over his shoulder, chuckling in obvious agreement. “He’s been joking around lately, too. It’s almost… unsettling.”

“Right? It’s literally been ages since I saw him like that- wait, do you know he went home early last night?” confusion was deeply etched on Emily’s face as she babbled, her eyes wide in faint excitement.

“Yeah. Nearly gave me a heart attack when he peeped into my office and told me he was heading home,” Morgan also leaned against the counter and took a sip of his drink.

“He went home earlier than Derek Morgan?”

“Shut up, Prentiss,” was all he could say.

You nodded along with their conversation in silence, not having anything interesting to say. Besides, your attention was fixed on your boyfriend from across the room; observing the way he listened intently and patiently to Reid’s genius ramble, the way he’d give him an encouraging nod to continue talking, his strong arms crossed over his chest, and with a kind smile plastered on his face. That look on his face sent hundreds of butterflies fluttering around your stomach. 

You love seeing him smile, which in return, also made you smile behind your mug.

“Maybe it’s the new water dispenser,” Emily suggested out of nowhere, half-joking. “Or the coffee. They changed it recently. What do you think?”

“I think it’s still shit...” you chimed in before you could even stop yourself, scrunching your nose at the bitterness of your drink.

Derek let out a surprised laugh, almost spitting the hot coffee in his mouth before quickly placing his mug on the counter, nodding frantically. “That, I fucking agree.”

Across the room, the sound of your hearty laughter caught Aaron’s attention. He quickly glanced at where you were standing, his expression softening a tad more at the sight of you talking animatedly with the other team members. It took all of his self-restraint not to grin at the familiar sound, although his heart fluttered at the very moment he heard it. 

He shook his head as he tore his eyes away from you, biting his lip to stop the smile slowly tugging on his lips, only to meet Reid’s inquisitive gaze the moment he focused back on him.

And all Aaron could mutter in his head was: Oh, fuck.

“Or maybe someone special has put that smile on his face. You know there’s a lot of rumor he’s seeing someone,” Morgan wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Yeah, the barista across the street.”

“What? The ba- what?” Emily’s eyes widened as she turned to you. “Did you see them? When? What happened? What does she look like?”

“Do you mean the one with crooked bangs? I swear that girl’s barber used a butcher’s knife or something.”

You chuckled at the description Morgan used. “I don’t know. I’m just kidding, anyway. That’s the new gossip I heard from Anderson’s team.”

“Last week they’re saying it’s some model in New York.”

“New York?” you repeated, feigning interest in the information.

“Uhuh, even Strauss was curious. Did you know that’s what she asked me on the elevator instead of asking how’s the bullet hole on my leg?”

“You’re being dramatic, Derek.”

Morgan snorted. “If you get shot, that’s the first thing you’ll hear from me, Prentiss.”

You let out a soft sigh, clutching the report in your hands as you approach Hotch’s office. The door was wide open, just the way he would always leave it, and you could see him focused on a stack of paperwork on his desk even from afar.

When he didn’t notice your presence, you took that as an opportunity to observe him. Aaron’s attention was focused on the document laid on his hand, his thick eyebrows tugged together, his eyes sharp with precision. You know it’s been a while since he shaved, and now there’s a hint of dark stubble shading his chin, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise polished appearance. You vividly remember the feeling of his growing beard on your neck whenever Aaron kisses you there. Just the memory alone makes you giggle and blush to yourself.

You tapped lightly on the doorframe.

“Agent Hotchner?” you called out softly, “Here’s the report you’ve been asking.”

Aaron looked up almost instantly, his stern expression softening just a fraction when he realized it was you. “Thank you, Agent,” he replied with a smile, mirroring the one you have on yours.

Aaron stood gracefully and walked around his desk to take the report from you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours in a fleeting touch. Up close, you noticed the shadow of exhaustion looming over his head. The tired frown, the dark circle under his eyes- you almost reached out and touched his face. All you wanted at that moment was to kiss the weariness away.

“How’s your day been?” you intended that question to sound professional but eventually failed as it was laced with obvious worry.

“Busy, as usual,” he said, his lips curving into a smile that only you would recognize as genuine. “But I feel better now.”

You bit your lower lip before nodding shyly.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

He darted his attention to the report and skimmed through it, nodding appreciatively. “This is thorough, as always. Excellent work.”

“Thank you, sir,” you beamed, your heart beating a little faster at his praise. “I try to keep up.”

Aaron’s eyes meet yours again, his voice low and smooth as though he was passing top-secret information. “About tonight, baby,” he began, “I made reservations at that Italian place you like. Eight o’clock work for you?”

You nodded promptly, keeping your expression neutral for any potential onlookers. Not only the door was left open but also the glass window. This old man and his professionalism, really. And it still freaks you out to think that, just last week, Reid has taken an interest in learning the art of lip-reading. No one has the nerve to call him out yet but he’s slowly becoming a menace to society.

“That sounds perfect. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

There was a brief, almost imperceptible pause, and then Aaron nodded. “Good. I can’t wait, angel.”

That was your cue to leave so you quickly bid him goodbye, but not before giving him a sweet smile and a subtle wink. “Don’t stress up too much, Agent Hotchner.”

“You too, Agent,” he replied before you turned around, fully aware of how his eyes followed you as you walked out of his office.

When you returned to your desk, Emily glanced up from her paperwork, a tired smile plastered on her lips. “Everything alright with the report?” she asked innocently.

“Perfect,” you answered casually, keeping your tone light. “As always.”

Hours dragged on and the bullpen was slowly winding down for the evening. For the third time in five minutes, you glanced at the clock, your heart beating a little faster as the hands crept closer to eight. Tonight’s date with Aaron was all you could think about, and you couldn’t wait for the night to end when the both of you are already on his bed and resting.

Until suddenly, your father leaned against your desk, his trademark grin in place. “Ready to head out, kiddo? I was thinking we could grab dinner at that new Italian place you’ve been wanting to try.”

You gave him a small smile, not wanting to draw any suspicion for the sudden rejection. “Actually, I have plans tonight, Dad.”

“Plans, huh? With whom, if I may ask?”

Obviously, that piqued his interest. It’s been a year since you joined the Bureau and have been living independently since. You no longer live under his roof, but knowing your father, he still loves to act as if you do. He’d always offer you a ride to your apartment after grabbing dinner together.

You tried to keep your expression normal, but the excitement bubbling inside made it hard to hide your smile. “Just... a friend. We’ve been planning this for a while.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A friend, mi cara? Anyone I know?”

“Well, sort of...” Hesitation lidded your expression for a moment. “But it’s still pretty new, so I’m not ready to share all the details yet.”

Rossi shook his head, chuckling at the sight of you blushing over some trivial question. “Alright, I won’t pry. But you know, you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded quickly. “I know, Dad. And I will tell you about him... soon.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright. Just be careful, okay? And have fun.”

“I will, Papà,” you promised after giving him a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Make sure to use protection.”

“Dad!” you glanced around the bullpen in scandal.

“Don’t be silly, just making sure he wraps his willie.”

From her desk, you heard Emily burst into boisterous laughter, obviously listening to the conversation. Your ears felt hot with embarrassment and you almost stumped your feet on the floor like a child.

“Oh my goodness, Dad!”

“What?” he feigned innocence. “Just a reminder, cara. But do enjoy your evening.”

You watched your Dad turn to leave before you breathed a sigh of relief, the tension finally easing from your shoulders. When you glanced around the office, that’s when you noticed Dr. Reid’s eyes focused on you, making you panic inside your head. What now?

After a while, he gave you an adorable tight-lipped smile before waving his hand. You gathered your things as everyone did, making sure to match everybody’s pace, eager not to appear suspicious from any angle.

Just as you were about to head out, you caught sight of Aaron emerging from his office, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder. He gave you a discreet nod, which you only returned with a smile.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the table. The air was filled with the melody of an old Italian song, distant conversations, and clinking of cutlery. At times, you would hear a champagne or wine bottle being popped open. And the moment Aaron pulled back a chair so you could sit, it was as if time had finally slowed down.

Aaron’s eyes were locked on yours, his gaze so tender you almost melted in your seat. He leaned slightly forward, an adoring smile present on his lips.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “You get more beautiful with each passing day. You keep me on my toes, baby.”

You chuckled at his terribly sweet words, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “We need to leave some room for dessert, love.”

“Just saying, angel,” he reached across the table to gently touch your hand. “Did you even notice how many men looked back at you when you walked past them? I bet some of them are on a date, too.”

You giggled, squeezing his hand lightly. “Can’t say I have. I’m too busy thinking of being in your bed.”

“Ah, my bed,” Aaron’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Laters, sweetheart. It feels cold and empty without you in there.”

As soon as he said it, the waiter arrived with your meal, setting down a plate of creamy fettuccine Alfredo and a glass of rich, red wine. Aaron took a moment to admire the spread, then turned back to you. When he lifted his glass for a toast, you noticed a flicker of hesitation flash in his eyes.

“Fuck. I was planning to say something sweet but I forgot it now.”

You laughed at his confession. “Take your time, Papi. You can do it.”

“No, really. Fuck...” he chuckled heartily. “Stop looking at me like that, darling. You make my heart flutter.”

“Like what, Aaron?”

“Baby, stop. Have mercy on me.”

You tilted your head innocently. “Like what, Aaron?”

He heaved a deep sigh, finally tearing his eyes away. “Jesus Christ...”

Heat crept into your cheeks as you lifted your glass. Giggling at his flushed expression, you clinked your glasses together, the sound resonating amidst the noise.

“I love you,” you said warmly, your heart swelling with every word. “And I know all the ways to cover a crime scene so don’t ever hurt me, Aaron Hotchner.”

Just as he was about to say something, the familiar voice of your father suddenly interrupted. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

You turned to your side and saw the rest of the team standing beside your table, all with different looks on their faces. Emily looked absolutely in shock, her eyes wide and lips ajar. JJ was biting back a smile, shaking her head. While Penelope was squealing and shaking JJ’s shoulder.

Behind them, Reid was already bantering with Morgan and asking for the price money he had won on their bet.

“I told you he called her ‘Angel’ not ‘Agent.’ I know I’ve only been learning how to read lips for a week but my skills are highly reliable.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“It’s true!”

Motherfuckers.

And to your dread, your dad was the first to break the silence. “So this is the willie—”

“Oh my god, Dad!”

Penelope clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with happy tears. “Oh my gosh, this is the cutest thing ever! Wait, what do you mean he’s the willie?”

No, because I tear up writing this while listening on-loop to lowkey. LOL. I'm so hopelessly in love with Aaron. Someone pls kill me.

[itsvelyria]

"little things they do for their s/o"

Charles Leclerc

he was raised a gentleman, taught to treat ladies with the utmost care and respect. but as much as it was part of his nature, he liked opening doors for you. perhaps it was the tiny smile that you would give him as you passed or simply because it gave him joy to have helped you in some way. whether it was cars, restaurants or hotels, he always made sure to take that two quick steps to the door, pulling the handle and turning to you with that cheeky grin and wink. the flush that dusted your cheeks with their matching giggle always making his day.

Carlos Sainz

he didn't think too much of it, taking your purchases from you when you two were out shopping one day. it had felt so natural, one of your hands laced with him while the other carried your stuff. then it was a november night when you were stumbling back home after a late night when you had taken off your shoes, whining about blisters. he had leaned down, long fingers reaching for the heels while the others came to circle your waist, stabilising you. you had shot him a grateful smile and he replied with one of his.

Danny Ricciardo

whether he was on a plane, or in a garage somewhere on the other side of the world, your boyfriend always *always* sent you a reminder to drink water. it was sweet, the way your phone would light up at random times of the day with a message from your lover telling you to hydrate. and it was never pushy, the way it felt when your mother did, though that could just be because of the person. even during calls at 2am because he had just gotten out of his debrief session, the man never failed to show concern for your health.

George Russell

in his defence, you were always cold and always sneezing in his car. when he'd picked you up for your first date, you had been shivering by the time you two had gotten to the restaurant. picking up the car from the valet after, he'd turned up the heat, noticing how your shoulders had loosened. ever since then, he had started paying slightly more attention to the weather and adjusting the temperature in the car accordingly. it was a little thing, but it made him smile whenever you would slide into the passenger seat and feel that much more comfortable.

Lando Norris

you had just chalked it up to the way of life, hair ties were meant to go missing. until one day. when you were watching a video of your boyfriend and noticed a familiar blue elastic around his wrist. still, you had assumed it was another of his bracelets. then came a particularly hot day in Austin, you were lying on his makeshift bed, wondering if this was how hell felt like. your boyfriend had walked in, taken one glance at you and offered you a hair tie. the brown band staring you in the face had a little smiley face charm and something clicked in your head. now, you had your very own hair tie dispenser in the form of a very thoughtful man.

Lewis Hamilton

the man knew he was doing it. you were considerably shorter than he was and he respected that you had a smaller gait than him. but this also meant that in order to be able to hold your hand, he had to slow down and match your pace, which wasn't such a bad trade-off. in fact he quite enjoyed it, even if it was through the sea of cameras pointed right at him and fans waiting for him to sign merchandise in the paddocks. it was poetic in a sense he supposed, the way you made life seem to slow down so that he could truly take the time to appreciate it.

Max Verstappen

your boyfriend had a miracle brain, something that should be studied by scientists and academics worldwide. how else could one explain how he manages to know where every single one of your possessions were at all times? what you didn't see, was that he spends a lot of time watching you. his eyes couldn't drag themselves away from you the second you entered a room, tossing your AirPods or keys on the bookshelf or nightstand. quietly, he'll note the location, loving it when you would shout across the house asking where your phone was and he'll be able to tell you it was in the bathroom. the reward of your lips on his cheek wasn't bad either.

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

This wonderful little show has come to an end, and I feel compelled to tell folks why I loved it, and why you should watch if you haven't yet. First, a big word of thanks to @isaksbestpillow for providing her excellent subtitles and making this show available to international fans. You can find all seven episodes here, get them while you can!

This drama understands that sometimes we really do want to fuck that old man

I don't know what to tell you, the man is hot. He is kind, patient, and generous, he's a master chef, he has a beautiful home with a garden that he tends himself, he is a loving dog owner, and on top of all that he has a hilarious dry wit. Who wouldn't want to fuck him??

Ishida is an endearing protagonist having a relatable quarter life crisis

Ishida certainly does! Which is a nice little revelation for him in a time when he's already struggling to figure himself out, as it's his first time wanting to fuck a man and his work colleague to boot. Ishida has hit a stumble in his original career choice and is feeling pretty apathetic about his job when he meets Mitsuya and gets his world rocked.

Mitsuya is a weary older man who has been burned

Mitsuya is quite a contrast to Ishida as an older adult who very much has his shit together, but has also survived some deep hurts living as an out gay man and grown reluctant to let people in. He and Ishida both see something in each other that the other needs.

It's a food drama that will make your mouth water

The food Mitsuya makes and serves to Ishida in this show looks so delicious that I had to make sure I was fed before watching each episode. Mitsuya can feel free to bait me with food any time.

Shige is my idol

We get to spend ample time at the neighborhood bar, where Mitsuya's old friend Shige serves drinks and hot goss. Shige is a great mix of the wise elder gay dispensing advice and the mischievous trouble maker who likes to stir the pot. I love him, and this show's understanding of the realities of men their age living out and proud.

Frito is a very good dog

FRITO! I'm not always too hype about pets with prominent roles in my shows, but in this story Frito is an important character and an emotional support to Mitsuya, and often provides impetus for Mitsuya and Ishida to grow closer.

Have I mentioned this show is hilarious

Truly, so funny. I laughed out loud during most episodes. Ishida is a walking comedy show as he flails through life, and the few moments when Mitsuya's dignified exterior cracks will have you howling.

It gave us one of the best dates I have ever seen on my screen

I still think about this date all the time. It was so beautifully written to underscore why this couple fits and how they each meet the needs of the other. Just having seen this one day spent together, it's easy to understand how a life between the two of them would unfold.

This show has a mature and nuanced understanding of relationships

We get deep into the show's perspective on love and romantic relationships via the return of Mitsuya's ex, Kaoru, a plot which the story handles with remarkable grace. I loved the space they gave to Mitsuya's former love and need for closure, and that Kaoru was not treated like a villain. He even got to provide an assist to Ishida!

The main romance feels deep and compelling

All of this adds up so that by the time we got to the finale, I really believed in this romance and why Ishida and Mitsuya needed each other, and the way the show dug into their hesitations and fears around that was so moving. My only regret is this show is short and we can't follow them to keep watching their lives together, but we got what we needed to feel confident in their future. I will miss them.

[owlespresso]

dogged pursuit. dr veritas ratio. pt 1 of ? summary: you've been appointed as the bodyguard of one doctor veritas ratio after a failed attempt on his life. he's easy to get along with, so long as you learn when to plug your ears and focus on his washboard abs. tags. suggestive content, reader insert is a bit of a freak

—

The planet of Orchestron-IIV is a classic vacationing spot. Though it’s covered by floodplains and forests, the real attractions are its coasts and its tropical islands—a region lovingly named Sene Verde. White sand beaches stare out into the glistening waters, where the capital city sits beneath the waves. You’re sure the underwater city is a sight to see. 

Pity that your client’s itinerary doesn’t include a visit to it. Instead, you’re stranded in an IPC-sponsored villa, a three-story home with three bedrooms and a pool which is ridiculously large for being right next to the ocean. Veritas, Intelligensia Guild prodigy, notorious bastard, and smoking hot piece of ass, prefers it much to the beach. He lounges next to it or inside of it, stretched underneath umbrellas or beneath the cool chlorinated waters. 

You don’t really get all the complaints going around about him. He’s pretty easy to work under, as long as you follow his every command. Which, as a bodyguard, is not very many. He’s pretty capable of handling himself. He made that much painfully clear from the moment you first met. You recall, fondly, the fit he pitched after he learned you’d be shadowing him through this entire trip. 

You don’t remember the specifics of what he said. Just a lot of belly-aching. You were too busy staring at his arms to really care—and that slutty little cut out on the side of his outfit. And really, what business does a scholar have wearing something so revealing? Surely, his students must be beside themselves at how distracting it is. He’d nearly wrung your neck when you posed the question, only half in jest.

Throughout the past two weeks, you’ve come to understand him better, you think. He comes from a planet where nudity isn’t that big of a deal. He wants people to know more things, and thinks it should be free for people to gain said knowledge. In the long hours you spend together, idling between his various meetings, he tries to teach you. At first, it begins with complex theorems and equations you never had any hope of solving. Then, surprisingly, he adjusted his ravings to be gentler on your poor, uneducated brain.

As big the stick up his ass is, he sticks to his principles. He always makes time to talk to you, to explain the vast mysteries of the universe in terms that you mostly understand. 

“I don’t really get the wind,” you say, dropping unceremoniously onto the beach chair beside him, stretched beneath the shade of another wide umbrella. You rest your cheek on your forearm, look him up and down through half-lidded eyes. He’s wearing satin robes today. They’re milk white, with golden embroidery, little patterns stretched across the sash tied around his waist. They reach only his mid-thigh and drape over only half of his torso. The rippling muscle of his chest and taut abdomen are bare for you to admire, his nipple pebbled atop the bountiful curve of his pec. 

He looks like you’ve just spat in his coffee, eyeing you exasperatedly over the tops of his sunglasses. “You don’t get the wind?”

“Like… where it comes from,” you drawl, absentmindedly dragging a finger over the course material of the chair. “I didn’t go to any fancy school growin’ up, so…”

This is your favorite game. 

He purses his lips and narrows his eyes, as if contemplating if engaging with you is worth it or not. In the end, he falls prey to his own, most fervent desires: the urge to dispense knowledge and the cloying need to make his intellect known.

“Well, the basic principles would have been taught in a rather elementary course,” Veritas says, matter-of-fact, in a way that means he isn’t intentionally looking to demean you. “Wind forms due to differences in pressure within a given planet’s atmosphere. The amount of it—or whether it happens at all varies from planet to planet.” he begins—and you linger in the sound of voice rather than the words themselves. You already know the basics of what you’ve asked. You just like to hear him talk. 

Because once he gets to talking, he can hardly ever stop.

Sometimes, he isn’t good at it. He’s abrasive. He agitates the IPC’s clients. You can see it in the taut pull of their shoulders, the way their lips twitch to fight their oncoming frowns. He’s too direct. He doesn’t mouth off, per say, but there’s something in his demeanor that lets them know he thinks they’re not as intelligent. It’s all tight handshakes and tight smiles in the end, but when he’s at last alone with you, shrugged off the heavy mantle of mandatory pleasantries, he fumes.

Midday has lapsed into early evening. Blue burgeons and encroaches on all the sun had once touched. The shadows grow long and the temperatures at last begin to dip, though remain balmy as you tread up the sandbar. A series of wooden staircases zigzag up the slope, leading up to your villa’s street. You trail after him as he talks—rants, really.

“They reached that conclusion based on a survey done by a prospective Genius Society member—one who doesn’t even specialize in the field!” he says with an exasperated sigh, kicking up grains of soft white sand. “He likely hasn’t even set foot upon Orchestron-IIV. How are we supposed to trust the word of a man who hasn’t even directly interacted with its native population?”

“Good point. I guess you can’t,” you agree, nodding factually. The stairs creak underfoot as you reach them, beginning the small climb up the bar. You don’t really remember the fine points of the argument—some prospective IPC investment in an underdeveloped, neighboring planet, one plagued by mysterious weather phenomena and potentially combative native populations. 

“They should have consulted Aventurine before dragging me all the way out here for consultation. He would have known better than to trust such a half-baked proposition, and with such little data to back it up!” he repeated, as if in disbelief, before looking at you sharply. “Do not tell him I said that. This conversation stays between us, and us alone.”

“I like it when we keep secrets together,” you sigh dreamily, skipping up the last few steps with a flourish. The sunbleached wood creaks beneath your leather boots. He tosses you an eyeroll over his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” he fixes you with a fiercely scrutinizing look. “If he is to receive any of my praise, it will come from me, and me alone. And when I deign to give it.” 

The relationship your charge has with one Aventurine should, in all respects, be of little to no interest to you. Yet, you are still human. You fall prey to petty curiosity as easily as any other. The good doctor would no doubt pitch another fit were you to pry now, so you simply guess it’s a power thing between the two of them. You don’t know Aventurine well enough to think otherwise.

“You seem awfully close to that guy,” you remark instead, testing the waters. 

“We’re business partners. Nothing more, nothing less. When the IPC is in need of my expertise, it is he who they reach out through and he who I collaborate with most often,” Ratio informs you, crisp and unfeeling, like he didn’t just say something incredibly odd and potentially possessive about the individual in question.

“Mm,” you hum in assent, pretending all of that is normal. “Well, keep on your toes around him.” You reach the top of your ascent, tailing him onto the quiet streets. Most of the avenue’s occupants are likely still on the beach or further in town, enjoying the resort city’s nightlife. 

Veritas looks at you, then, something sharp in his eyes. “And why would you say that?”

You tilt your head to the side as you regard him, coming into step beside him. He slows down his strides, eyes suddenly flinty, countenance withdrawn into something deliberating, defensive.

“He’s high up in the IPC, isn’t he? I wouldn’t trust any of those Stonehearts further than I can throw ‘em,” you say with a small shrug. 

“And yet, here you are on their behest.” Veritas says.

“Awh, you caught me,” you give him a roguish smile, lifting your hands in a gesture of surrender. “But answer me this: does anyone really trust their employer? I’m not gonna bite the hand that  feeds, but I’m not gonna love on it, either.”

“I see,” he says with a small sigh, and that strange steeliness vanishes. The taut line of his shoulders loosens and his eyes shut for a long moment.

“It helps that I like you, too. You’re real easy to work with,”

He gives you an incredibly skeptical look. “Am I?”

“Yeah. Why so surprised?” you give him a toothy grin. Even he knows how insufferable of a reputation he has. “You get fussy sometimes, but it’s not a big deal. And I like hearing you talk, so it’s not a big deal.”

“I am not ‘fussy’. I have standards befitting someone of my intellect and station,” he says, looking down his nose at you. He pauses beneath one of the street lamps as it flickers on, yellow light glimmering on all the gold bobbles attached to his ridiculous outfit. He opens his mouth to speak again, to give you another tongue-lashing, but he must realize by now that you like those, so he shakes his head and sighs instead, like you’re the difficult one. “Forget about it. I have better things to do than dawdle around with you.”

He’s still pissy from that meeting, earlier, you observe passively. Your gaze lingers on his back as he speed walks away from you, broad muscle rolling beneath taut, pale skin. Your mouth waters. You follow him.

[dovkss]

Continuation of the “dumb bitch” series/ Drabbles ,maybe something where she apologizes to kiri + him and katsuki make up and then have a threesome

anon: + orrr she cheats with kiri | but she doesn't realize she's cheating or something like he convinces her

“cheating" on bakugou with kiri

word count: 2.2k

warning: 18+; gentle dom! kiri; dubcon; size kink; dumbification; belly bulge; light degradation; mocking; manipulation; panty stuffing; mating press; unprotected; yandere themes; kiri finally got some pussy !

all characters are aged up !!

a/n: i love your brain, anon. more of “dumb bitch,” hope i made it to your liking !! had a lot of fun with this one actually, i was giggling a little too much... forgive me for any mistakes, it's 2am, i'll proofread later to touch some things up, xoxo, enjoy <3

You lay next to Bakugou as he slept. Your body nestled comfortably under the warm blankets, he was almost naked, as he only had on boxers as he laid on top of the covers to feel the coolness of the fan that was in the corner of his room. His body was hot; every time you touched his back, you were stunned at how warm he was.

He was a peaceful sleeper to your surprise. Despite knowing it for a while, it still shocked you just how less intimidating he looked. His snores were faint, and his chest would rise up and down slowly as he took in deep breaths. All you did was smile.

It was late at night, well past midnight. The room was shrouded in darkness, except for the faint glow of the moon that seeped through the curtains. You had decided to stay over for the night since you didn’t think it would be safe to drive home in the dark. Bakugou suggested the idea of course.

“I don’t want you driving at night,” he said sternly. “It’s dangerous I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Well, that’s how you liked to recall it. Really, it was: “You’re not leaving.” When you opened your mouth to insist, he just glared at you. His scarlet-colored eyes made you shut up instantly.

You didn't even realize that he'd only kept you there to fuck. But even if you did know, you wouldn't deny him. You would always give in to his touch, responding to his touch in a way that nobody would ever be able to make happen besides him. It was like love.

You were awake, in your undergarments, running your fingers through his soft hair. Everything was comfortable until intense thirst crept up on you. You shifted in bed, careful not to disturb Bakugou, until you realized that you couldn't ignore your thirst any longer. You gently untangled yourself from the sheets, being as quiet as a mouse, and slowly slid out of the bed.

Every movement was calculated, as you tiptoed toward the bedroom door. You'd spent enough time at his house to know your way around in the dark. You navigated through the room with ease, being careful to avoid any potential obstacles that could out your presence. You'd made up your mind to get a glass of water from the kitchen, but the main operation on your mind was to not wake Bakugou by accident.

Taking slow, deliberate steps, you glided through the hallway, your ears perking up for any sound that might indicate Bakugou stirring. The house was quiet, except for the faint hum of the fridge and your footsteps. You reached the kitchen unscathed and let out a sigh of relief as you switched on the softest light.

Your gaze fell on the cupboard where the glasses were kept. You gently pulled it open, wincing slightly at the faint creaking sound. Your fingers brushed against the cool glass as you selected a cup, being careful not to clatter it against anything.

You recognized that cup. It was a cute one, with children's stickers on it. It was Bakugou's from when he was a kid. A gift his mother gave to him, you remembered Kirishima showed it to you when you were trying to get intel on Bakugou. With the cup in hand, you turned toward to fridge to grab the filtered water dispenser.

The soft sound of the water being poured filled the silence. You watched as the water flowed into the cup, your mind momentarily drifting to the peacefulness of the night. The thirst that had gnawed at you earlier had seemed to fade away.

With your thirst quenched, you silently placed the glass on the counter. You paused for a moment, considering whether to grab a snack as well, but ultimately decided against it.

You suddenly heard a rustling noise and froze. You turned slowly and saw that it was just Kirishima. His looked awfully tired. His hair was messy, and his basketball shorts were loose around his hips as you were able to see his v-line. He opened the cupboard as you just did and grabbed himself a bigger cup than what you had grabbed.

"Hey, Kiri," you said. "You scared me!"

"Sorry." He said flatly.

"Didn't expect to run into you. It's really late," you pressed on.

No response.

"How are you?"

He only hummed, not meeting your gaze. You felt the tension between the two of you yet again, and it made you uneasy. He wasn't interested in a conversation.

He poured water into his cup as well before putting the dispenser back in the fridge and began to walk out. You frowned. He didn't even say 'goodnight.' He said nothing at all.

You couldn't stop yourself from reacting.

"I'm sorry!"

He turned. Finally, his slow-blinking eyes met yours. Those familiar red eyes that once gave you comfort now were filled with what you would only describe as distaste. You stammered over your words, trying to find the right thing to say.

"I know I haven't been the best of friend to you lately. But it's not because I don't care about you, it's just... things are complicated."

"How?" He asked, his voice groggy.

"Well," you said, hesitantly. It was embarrassing. "Katsuki..."

"Of course it is." He scratched his head. "He's always been that way."

You sighed. The guilt was getting to you at that moment. "It's not like that. He just wants to protect me. He told me to stay away from you, Kiri, and to not talk to you. That's why I've been a little silent."

He shook his head. "Whatever sick game you and your boyfriend have going on, keep it between you two. I don't care for it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Boyfriend? Katsuki and I aren't dating."

Kirishima's eyes widened for a moment. Then he laughed. He laughed at you. Your face got hot. He was taunting you. He laughed at you.

"That's rich," he teased. "Katsuki doesn't even want you, but he can control who you talk to? That's low, even for you."

Your eyebrows furrowed, and your lips parted slightly in surprise. You searched Kirishima's face for any signs of deception but found none. A wave of uncertainty washed over you. "Don't say that."

He chuckled, enjoying the reaction he had provoked. "Well, that's what it sounds like. And you just let it happen, why? You're... weak."

You shifted uncomfortably. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. "You shouldn't say things you don't mean."

Your mind spun with conflicting thoughts and emotions. While you and Katsuki never had openly discussed your guys' relationship, you believed there was a mutual understanding between you both. The idea that Katsuki didn't want you shattered your heart.

Kirishima's grin widened as he poked more at your vulnerable state. "Oh, come on. Don't be so naive."

Your heart sank. The room fell into an awkward silence, your emotions welled up inside you. The weight of his words became unbearable. Tears welled up in your eyes.

You wanted to believe that he was just hurt. He had every right to be. When people are upset they say things they don't mean. That's happening now.

"I'm sorry, okay?" you mumbled. "I don't know what else to say."

Kirishima stepped forward, no sign of regret on his face. "Don't cry, Baby. It's not your fault you're so trusting."

You wiped away the tears that fell and turned away from him. You needed to stay composed.

"You know what? Let's have some fun. If you really wanna make it up to me for being such a shit friend, why don't you spend some time with me? Let's just... enjoy each other's company."

Your heart began to beat faster as you felt his bigger chest rub against your backside. You shook your head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Kiri. I don't want to go behind Katsuki's back."

"Come on," he whined. "It'll be our little secret. Just for tonight. Don't you miss having fun with me?"

You felt a flutter in your stomach. It was true, you did miss the way things used to be between you and Kirishima. You missed the inside jokes and the way you both would talk for hours without running out of things to talk about. You missed never having to look over your shoulder.

But you also knew that what he was suggesting was wrong. It would be going against Katsuki, and you'd never want to disobey him.

"I don't, I mean, Katsuki wouldn't approve-"

"Katsuki doesn't need to fucking know."

He was persistent. He turned you around, your chest brushing against his. He leaned in close, you could smell the faint scent of his cologne.

"Come on, babe," he whispered. "Just this once. For old times' sake."

You just wanted everything to go back to normal.

You didn't mean for things to escalate.

Your entire body was on fire, but the opening between your legs burned like hell. Kirishima's fingers were entangled in your hair and he deepened the kiss in an attempt to make you more quiet.

"K-Kiri, i-it hurts!" you tried to turn away from his kisses, but his hand held your chin toward him, your sentence getting caught up in between his lips.

He was much bigger and girthier than Bakugou. Legitimately, you were afraid he would split you open. He entered you slowly, being sure to make you cum twice from his mouth first. But even after all of that work, the pain of just his tip was enough to make you want to tap out.

But he insisted it would feel better. That the pain would go away in no time. So he kept going, slowly. He had your legs pushed up by your head, making sure to get every inch of himself inside of you.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He asked, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, pushing your body into his mattress.

All you could do was cry out. The sensation was too much to bear. Your fingers gripped the sheets, your nails almost splitting through the thin sheets. Tears streamed down your face each time he thrusted into you. He wasn't being rough at all, he was just so hard to take.

His hands softly slid up and down your stomach, feeling your skin thoroughly. His long, fluid strokes only made you gasp. Kirishima huffs out every once in a while, a wide smile plastered on his face as he watched you take him in.

You were so tight.

"You're clenching so much around me- oh, fuck, baby, look at me," he slapped your face lightly when he noticed that your eyes were closing.

He leaned forward and took your arms in his hands before wrapping them around his neck to make you hold onto him closer. You never thought you'd be here. Never thought you'd be doing something so intimate with him. You weren't this sensual with Katsuki either, your heart ached at the fact.

Maybe Kirishima was right.

He pressed a thumb to your swollen clit and you screamed. His eyes went wide, taken aback at how you reacted. Quickly, he grabbed your panties from beside him and forced them into your mouth. Your garbled noises went muffled as they continued to spill from your throat.

"I didn't know you were so sensitive," he panted. "I need you to stay quiet, hun. Understand?"

You couldn't answer him. You felt so full, so stuffed. You felt his cock hit your cervix with every roll of his hips. You had yet to notice the bulge he had made in your stomach.

His head tilted. "Awe, you're so stupid. You've gone all dumb on my cock, can't even fucking talk. Shit, but you're gonna. Does he make you feel as good as I do?"

Your eyes traveled to him. You were nearing your third release, your thighs started twitching in pain. What?

"Don't look at me like that. Answer the question, baby."

He purposely began grinding his hips deeper into you. His sharp-toothed smile turned you on even more. He was only teasing you, he knew you were barely able to comprehend what he was saying to you.

You felt yourself coming closer, your cream making a mess all over his cock. You trembled and squirmed.

"T-Too m-much, aah!" you cried out, the panties slipping to the side of your mouth.

He chuckled. You're so fucking cute.

"Wanna cum, pretty baby? Wanna come undone all over my cock? Be a good girl for me, yeah?"

All you could do was babble. Babble about how good he made you feel, about how much you wanted to cum, about how much better he was compared to Bakugou.

You gave him everything he wanted to hear.

He took that as a sign and he drove into you faster, harder. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room. Your back was arched and your eyes were crossed before you knew it.

Your cunt squeezed around his cock involuntarily and you couldn't stop your moans from coming out as you finally gave in to your release. Your moans were like music to his ears. They made him want to fuck you relentlessly, but he needed to hold back. He slapped his hand over your mouth, grunting as he reached his end.

It wasn't long before he came. Inside you, that is.

He collapsed onto your chest, you both breathing heavily. His skin was slippery as both of you were sweaty. Your cunt was incredibly sore. You winced at every breath he took as his cock was still inside you. He didn't plan on taking it out anytime soon, either.

You didn't mean for things to escalate. You just wanted things to go back to normal. You knew Kirishima long enough to know he'd always kept a promise.

You only feared that things wouldn't go back to normal as quickly as you'd hoped.

[billielolly]

Sims 3 Build - Relaxation Retreat

A vibrant family home full of opportunities for fun and relaxation, with plenty of space for a budding gardener. 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, on a 30x40 lot.

Watch the speed build: https://youtu.be/-7bnRL8bAsA

Download here:

Patreon (free): https://www.patreon.com/posts/111265768/

Exchange:

Expansion packs:

Ambitions

Late Night ?

Generations

Pets

Supernatural

Seasons

University Life

Stuff packs:

None

Store content:

Stones Throw Greenhouse - Greenhouse Window, Greenhouse Roof Center

Custom content:

heaven - Neutral Slate Roof with White Trim

missyzim - Neoclassic Build Set (Tall Wide 2x1, Tall Wide 1 Tile, Counter High 1 Tile, Tall 1 Tile)

Cakenoodles - 13pumpkin Rustic Wood Floor

Angela - Aiden Buildset 3x1 Arch

Martassimsbook - MyCupOfCC Hot Tub

Onyxium - Jena Bathroom Accessories (Reed Diffuser, Soap Dispenser, Toilet Brush, Tooth Brushes)

Mutske - Toiletroom Aria Toilet Paperholder

Gosik - Kobe Bathroom Towels 2

Martassimsbook - cmdesigns Anemone Bathroom Set Candle

Martassimsbook - Ars-botanica Cup of Pansies

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild Dahlia and Delpinium Vases

Mutske - Plant Palm Large

sim_man123 - Emerson Ficus Tree

Martassimsbook - novvvas Planties pt3 (Ficus Lyrata V1, Ficus Elastica, Monstera Deliciosa)

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild My Home Set (Hanging Pothos Plant)

ATS3 - Kitchen Herbs (Basil)

ArtVitalex - Mayorka Ceiling Spot Lamp

johziii - Irene Lamp

NynaeveDesign - Lyne Curtains (Curtains 1x1 Left, Curtains 1x1 Right, Curtains 2x1, Curtains 3x1, Rod)

ArtVitalex - Kalkgrund Mirror

Onyxium - Gibsonton Bed

Martassimsbook - Lorelea Floral Paintings

ArtVitalex - April Kitchen

ArtVitalex - Glen Mirror

Angela - Michelle Bedroom Mirror

ArtVitalex - Hampton Dining Chair

sweetdevil - More Planters (Prickly Planter)

sweetdevil - More Planters Part 3 (Fancy Box Planter)

Wandering Sims - Wildflower Mix Pattern 4

missyzim - French Country Paintings (Country Floral Painting, French Country Paintings 3, Provencial Painting)

Mutske - Liatorp Palm in Basket

Angela - Simspiration Issue 01 Watering Can

ArtVitalex - Upland Bathroom Accessories (Toilet Brush, Soap Dispenser, Toothbrush and Paste)

Twinsimming - Single Serve Hammock

Crowkeeper - The Cryptic Triptych Paintings (Enchanted)

ArtVitalex - Rowlett Hallway Extra (Key Bowl, Umbrella Holder)

Julietsimscc - Dark Landscapes Artwork

ArtVitalex - Doyle Pen Holder

Lulu265 - Bedford Bedroom Wall Art

deeiutza - Cottage Reading Corner Books

Martassimsbook - Pinkboxdesign Kitchen Clutter Set Dishsoap

Martassimsbook - Syboulette Millennial Kitchen Fruit Basket

ATS3 - Ceramic Canisters

Dhalsims - EA Ceiling Smoke Alarm

ATS3 - Wall Rack IKEA Fintorp-like

ATS3 - Washing-up Wooden Dish Rack

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild 500 Patrons Gifts Notebooks

Kerrigan House Designs - Belle Epoque Vanity

Martassimsbook - novvvas Mid Century Modern Living Room Books 2

QoAct - Lina Cushion II

sim_man123 - Celea Lily Vase

ATS3 - School Notebooks

ATS3 - Parisian Bistro Chair 4

bioniczombie - Tom Berry Knife Block

Martassimsbook - Chicklet Modern Lenai Patio (Chair, Box Deco)

Martassimsbook - Marvell Breeze Collection Plant

PralineSims - Contemporary Carpet 22

PralineSims - Big Flokati III

PralineSims - Classic Carpet 3

(Optional) zoe22 - Flower Arranging Mod (Table Used)

[aquanutech]

In today’s fast-paced world, having immediate access to hot water is not just a convenience; it is a requirement. A smart hot water dispenser may improve your kitchen experience, whether you’re brewing coffee, preparing a quick meal, or relaxing with a cup of tea. However, not all dispensers are created equally. AquaNu Tech’s Digital Instant Hot Water Dispenser stands out from the crowd thanks to a number of unique features. Here’s a closer look at the most important qualities to look for in a digital hot water dispenser, as well as why AquaNu Tech shines in each of them.

[hydrofluxsg]

Enhance your lifestyle with premier Air Purifiers, Water Purifiers, and Alkaline Water solutions in Singapore. Enjoy advanced purification technology for cleaner air and healthier water. Elevate your surroundings and well-being with our high-quality products. Rely on us for state-of-the-art solutions, guaranteeing the highest quality air and water. Experience the best – choose our premium offerings.

[bookdragonideas]

Toph should have been homeless.

A lone wanderer traveling across the Earth Kingdom. She would have taught metalbending to anyone who wished to learn. Beating up bullies and helping small towns recover and rebuild. Occasionally blackmailing one of the MANY world leaders who owe her into letting her crash at their place and eat all their food.

As she gets older she gets wiser. Becoming the Uncle Iroh to the younger generations. She's never as gentle as he was, but she remembers him fondly and never hesitates to dispense some cryptic wisdom on some hot-headed kid.

As years pass she stops wandering quite so far. Instead she stays for long months in the Fire nation or on Kyoshi Island. Occasionally she drops in on that new town/nation that Zuko and Aang are building. But she never stays for long.

She never marries. Never has kids. The rest of the Gaangs kids refer to her as Auntie Toph, and she loves them. But she decided long ago that she didn't want to be a mother.

She's there when Aang dies, holds Katara like Katara has always held her. Whispers to her that twinkle toes isn't gone. Not forever. He'll be back. He's the avatar after all.

She's there when Suki dies. Unable to save her in the heat of battle, unable to heal her afterwards. Sokka takes a few months to join her on her travels. She protects him, even as he fights with a recklessness that scares her. Suki would want him to survive.

Sokka calms down, goes home to his sister and his people and the white lotus. Toph keeps traveling.

She hears of her parents death. She spends the next week helping a lost child find his parents. And she visits the Boulder on her next trip through town. He much to old to be fighting her, but they rematch on the ring anyways. He mocks her the same way he always does and never says a word about her parents.

She gives him her parents wealth, he runs an animal shelter now and could use the funds.

She isn't there when Mai dies. Far on the eastern edge of the Earth Kingdom when the news of the Fireladies death reaches her. She takes Zuko on fieldtrip when she gets back to the Fire Nation. He owed her anyways.

They find Dragons.

The new Avatar emerges. A hot-headed young girl from the Southern Water Tribe.

She nothing like Twinkle Toes.

She's so much like Aang it hurts.

Katara is getting old. She hides it well but she's slower now. Not quite as fierce. Calming down as the years slip by.

Sokka dies and it rips Toph apart. He was her big brother. He died to save the world. She spends a few months with the sand benders. Spends a few more months deep in a swamp where occasionally she can still hear his voice. Once she hears Aang, sounding as young as the day they met.

Katare is so quiet now. She teaches the young avatar to heal. But not to fight. Saying that honor belongs to a younger teacher.

Honor make Toph think of Zuko.

She's there when he steps down and gives the throne to his daughter. It's a lovely ceremony. Afterwards they go on another fieldtrip. They find sky bison. Living wild and free in small island chains far from the mainland. Toph tells Katara who tells her children. And Airbenders fly with Sky Bison once more.

Katara passes peacefully in her sleep. Toph cries.

She goes on fieldtrips with Zuko every year now. Sometimes they find things. Sometimes they fight people. Sometimes they visit places that echo with memories.

The war was a horrible thing. Toph knows this. But a small dark shard of her heart is eternally grateful for Sozins greed. Without it she would never have known her friends.

The house on Ember Island lays in ruins now. The house Zukos family uses nowadays is smaller, more inconspicuous, a friendly little cottage.

They stay at the old house. Laughing when they find the rooms burned from when Zuko chased Aang. There's a small spot outside where the earthbent remains of Melon Lord stands. Toph can still remember Sokka's voice planning, Suki's light footsteps. Katara's fierce fighting and Aang hesitating before the final blow.

Zuko can't.

Zuko forgets more and more. Until the only thing they do on fieldtrips is go places. To remember. He asks where Uncle Iroh is. Thinks Mai is with them. Doesn't remember that his daughter is the Firelord now, not him.

A new threat arises. Zuko dies defending his nation and family. The world's mourns Firelord Zuko the great peace bringer. Toph mourns Zuko the awkward friend.

The new avatar dies. And Toph realizes that she doesn't know her own age.

The world is different now. There's so many new inventions. Toph thinks that Sokka would have loved to see this modern age.

A celebration for a hundred years of peace helps her remember her age for a few years.

Theres a new New avatar. A young boy from the sandbenders. His voice reminds her of Aang when she teaches him metalbending.

The next she hears of him is his marriage to some fire bending girl.

She spends time in the swamp, helps the swamp benders fight against those who would destroy the land. She gives council to the Sandbenders, as they seek independence from the rest of the Earth Kingdom.

She visits the house on Ember Island. It's part of a protected forest now.

She nearly kills a man on Kyoshi Island. He was telling a story of the end of the hundred year war. But he got it all wrong.

The four nations are no more. There are more than ten nations now. The Water Tribes split long ago. Three distinct Air Temples operate separately and with different principles and beliefs. The Republic continues to grow. The Sandbenders and Swampbenders are still sorting thing out, but they'll both be independent soon.

The two hundredth year of peace bring war. As tensions break and new weapons are being used. Bending is no longer the most powerful weapon out there.

The two hundredth year of peace bring war. But Toph is not there to see it.

Three years earlier she sits in a cave. She had spent the summer teaching some kids metalbending, and even just basic Earthbending.

It had been... nice.

But she's so tired now. She sits in the cave. There are no other people for miles around. But she's not alone. The memories of her friends, her family, weigh on her shoulders and echo in her her ears.

As she sits in the darkness she hears a sound. A quiet shuffling and then a loud crash! As walls are reshaped and her oldest friends find her.

Badgermoles live for centuries. And these Badgermoles remember her. They remember a small, scared little girl who was just like them.

In the darkness the Badgermoles snuggle close. Keeping her warm. Keeping her company.

Toph sits in a cave surrounded by Badgermoles cuddling her. Slowly she falls asleep.

She does not wake up.

Above the world goes on. War leads to peace leads to war leads to peace once again. The avatar lives and dies and is reborn, over and over again. History stretches larger and larger. Until the truth becomes legends.

Firelord Zuko, Avatar Aang, Chief Sokka and Warrior Suki, Master Katara the Mother of the Southern Benders. These names are preserved, remembered. Their stories become legends. Passed down from generation to generation. Written of in both fables and historical records alike.

The first ship to leave orbit is called Aang. To be a sokka is to be inventive. Hundreds of girls fighting groups are named after Katara and Suki.

Zuko the Tenth oversees the signing of a new peace treaty as the neutral party.

Only a few footnotes remember the Forgotten member of the ancient Team Avatar. The earthbender. A girl named Toph who disappeared from records shortly after the Hundred Year War, though rumors of her were recorded for nearly two centuries afterwards. Her story is a rather farfetched one. More likely she either died in the war or soon after. Perhaps, some optimists say, she settled down and lived a normal life afterwards.

Many centuries later a mining company makes a wonderful discovery. The ancient burial caves of the now extinct Badgermoles. But a mystery awaits within this archeological marvel. For nestled within the hundreds of Badgermole skeletons there lies a single Human skeleton.

She lies there alone, surrounded by Badgermoles. Almost as if she was one of them. Almost as if they respected her, honored her.

Loved her.

And in a small town, a blind boy hears a legend. A legend that inspires him. A legend of a girl named Toph.

[illuminatedquill]

Worship Me

A Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger story

Story Summary: Tucked away inside their watchtower during a snowy night on Lothal, Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger ponder the future and their relationship.

The beverage dispenser whirred and deposited the last of its contents - sweet, sweet hot chocolate - into the mug; Ezra watched the steam waft up from the dark brown ambrosia, bringing with it the tantalizingly sweet aroma that made his mouth water.

Even with the heating unit at max, the watchtower's interior was still chilly. Outside the temperatures were approaching near freezing and bringing with it fresh concerns of an early, bitter winter with its sleet and snow. But, for now, the snow was harmless and provided an endless frosty wonderland for all the children - and not an insignificant number of adults - to enjoy. Ezra took the fresh mug of hot chocolate in one hand and grabbed another less recently filled one in his other and moved to the watchtower's balcony.

His partner, Sabine Wren, was standing there. Wrapped in a comfy gray shawl - a gift from her departed master, Ahsoka Tano - she leaned against the railing, watching the snow drift lazily down. Just beyond, lit brightly against the snowfall, was Lothal's Capital City with its gorgeous array of spires and skyscrapers. Ezra smiled wistfully, thinking of all the families living in those towers, their children's faces pressed against the glass to watch the snow come down.

He remembered with a pang of melancholy of doing just that with his own parents, Ephraim and Mira, many years ago. Waking up to see the snow, riding a sled down the hills of Lothal's fields, scampering after the loth cats to find their hidden burrows . . .

"Enjoying the view?" Sabine called to him, jolting him out of his reminiscing. He blinked, re-focusing on her.

Even after all these years, she still took his breath away with her beauty. Sabine's hair had grown a little longer, the dyed orange tips just brushing the top of her shoulders now. He knew she wouldn't grow it any longer, purely for practical reasons, but oh how he yearned to see Sabine with longer hair. Underneath the shawl, she wore casual clothes: a bright orange tunic, yellow combat pants, and maroon boots. Once upon a time, he had teased that her outfit was similar in style to the one he wore during the Rebellion and had received a sharp poke in the side for his observation (but he had noted slyly that Sabine was blushing as she did so).

Playing it cool (ha ha), he replied, "Yup."

Smooth, he thought dourly. Very cool, Ezra.

Sabine snorted and took one of the mugs to sip at. "Charming as always, Ezra."

He batted his eyes at her in, hopefully, a smoldering fashion. "Hey, it's a part of the package. Prince Charming, that's me."

She choked on the hot chocolate.

Using his sleeve to dab at her mouth, he said, "That wasn't meant to be a joke."

In between gasps of air, Sabine choked out, "You're going to kill me with any more of whatever this is you're trying to do."

Ezra sighed and took her gently by the arm. "Let's just head inside."

Once Sabine had settled down, they settled onto the couch and wrapped a large quilt - a gift from Zeb and Kallus (with an apology note from Kallus about the quilt's clumsy construction but Zeb tried really hard, and he hadn't the heart to tell him otherwise) - around themselves. Sabine was sipping at Ezra's mug of hot chocolate, since he was the reason why hers had been spilled. Normally he would have protested, especially since it was his favorite beverage, but Ezra had learned long ago that certain arguments were futile with Sabine, so he gladly acquiesced.

They sat there in silence, just listening to the watchtower's gentle mechanical hum and the occasional mewling from Murley, who had taken up the usual perch at his favorite window.

Ezra closed his eyes and took in the ambience, enjoying the simple feeling of being at home and beside the person he loved the most in this galaxy.

. . . And trying to ignore the fact his hands were shaking ever so slightly.

Sabine set down her mug on the table in front of them. He felt her turn towards him, leaning in close, her warm breath tickling his ear . . .

"Your hands are shaking, cyar'ika," she said quietly.

Ezra's eyes opened as he grimaced. "You caught that," he said glumly.

Sabine arched an eyebrow at him. "You can't hide anything from me, Ezra," she replied. "We're partners."

Ezra shrugged off his side of the quilt, glaring at his traitorous hands. "I don't know why they're doing that," he confessed. "It's been happening more and more lately."

She cocked her head at him, thinking. "Not during our missions," she said. "Only when we're home."

"Yeah," he said. "You think they'd be acting up while we're fighting off pirates or negotiating trade disputes or any number of stressful situations we've been in . . . but no. Just whenever we're home."

Sabine gently grasped his shaking hands. They stilled in her touch. "It's fear, I think," she surmised, studying his face. "And something more."

Ezra frowned at her. "What am I scared of when we're home, safe and sound, alone together?"

"Talk it out. Let your thoughts flow along with your feelings, cyar'ika."

Ezra sighed. "Okay," he replied. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force for calm and just . . . listened to himself, breathing in and out. He felt Sabine's presence beside him - a constant fierce light, radiating love and belief and support -

The quiet.

He opened his eyes, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise unsettlingly. "That's it," he murmured. "That's what it is."

Sabine looked at him, frowning. "What is it?"

"It's the quiet," Ezra said. "It's the peace. I'm not used to it."

He leaned back into the couch, processing this revelation. After a few moments he said, "Sabine, do you realize we've been fighting for most of our lives?"

Her grip on his hands tightened. Ezra looked and saw the discomfort appear on her face. "It's not something I like to dwell on," she said. "But, yeah. I know."

"I think it's come to the point where I feel more at home in a battlefield than I do at our actual home. The peace, the quiet . . . Sabine, it scares me. I'm scared it could be disrupted at a moment's notice, that it could be taken away."

Ezra stared at her, his vision going blurry. "I'm scared you could be taken away. Or me, taken from you. It all feels false, somehow. I can't truly enjoy it."

Sabine reached out and cradled his face to her chest. He heard the gentle, re-affirming beat of her heart. It calmed him a little.

"The galaxy's a scary place, Ezra. We've already lost each other once. I wish I could guarantee that it will never happen again . . . "

Ezra said bitterly, "You can't. No one can."

She turned his face upwards towards hers. "I love you, Ezra. That's all I can promise you. I'll love you until the stars go cold."

"Is it enough, Sabine? Love doesn't promise anything. It wasn't enough for Kanan and Hera. It didn't save Kanan. It killed him." The mention of his former master, Kanan Jarrus, brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He felt awful for saying it, but it held true. Kanan had loved Hera deeply - enough to give his life to ensure hers and everyone else's future on Lothal.

But he had still died. And he knew Hera still felt that loss keenly everyday.

Yes, the love had been there. But it hadn't changed anything.

Kanan still died. Hera had told him of the regrets she felt; things that should have been said but were put aside in the foolish hope that there would be another time to say them.

"You don't mean that, Ezra," said Sabine sharply. "I know you don't."

Ezra turned his face away, hiding his shame. He shrugged in response.

Sabine grabbed his face and wrenched it back towards her. Her brown eyes, normally bright and compassionate, burned with a fierce anger. "Listen to me," she said. "Do not let this fear turn you into something you're not, Ezra. You're better than this. I know you are."

Ezra let out a frustrated breath, bowing his head. "I know. I just . . . I don't know, Sabine. Will this be enough for us? With the lives we lead? I don't want there to be any regrets between us."

"You mean like Hera and Kanan?" asked Sabine. "I get what you mean."

He looked at her, feeling lost. "So what do we do?"

Sabine looked back at him. Then, with a soft touch, she placed a finger under his chin and titled his face up ever so slightly.

"If the love is not enough," she said softly, "then I will ask you for more."

Ezra stared at her, entranced. "What do you mean?"

Sabine leaned in close; the scent of her, a lilac fragrance, filling his nose, intoxicating his mind . . .

"Adore me, Ezra Bridger," she whispered. "Worship me."

His mind went blank. "I . . . how?" he heard himself ask.

With her other hand, Sabine reached behind his head, running her fingers through his hair. Silvery sensations erupted from his scalp; Ezra could hear his heart pulsing loudly within his ears. The fingers clenched, and she pulled him into a deep, searing kiss.

After what felt like an eternity, she let him up for air. Breathing heavily, she placed a hand on his chest.

"I will worship you too," she said huskily. "All of you."

She leaned forward and kissed his chest. "I worship your heart."

His forehead. "I worship your mind."

Sabine reached for his hands, still shaking but for different reasons now. She brushed her lips lightly against each of his fingers. "I worship your hands."

Ezra shivered at her touch. When she was finished, she gazed deeply into his eyes. "Your turn now," she said with an impish grin.

"Are you sure about this?" Ezra asked. "I haven't . . . I mean, this is my first time."

"Mine too," Sabine admitted.

Ezra's eyes widened. He smiled, feeling surprised - and a little gratified. "You waited for me?"

Blushing, Sabine punched him gently on the arm. "Obviously, goober."

He grinned at her. "So, who will take the lead then?"

"Me," she said bluntly. "Unless the Noti gave you directions."

Ezra laughed, feeling some of the tension slide out of him.

Sabine poked him in the chest. "Hey. Focus. Back to worshipping."

He reached out through the Force and dimmed the watchtower's lights. Sabine quirked an eyebrow at him. "Trying to set the mood?" she asked.

Ezra glanced at his hands - they were steady as a rock.

He slid his hands underneath the quilt, searching . . .

Sabine frowned at him. "What are you - oh."

Ezra gently pressed himself against her and returned her kiss with a fervent ardor that left them both breathless. Blinking at him, stunned, Sabine asked, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Maybe the Noti did teach me some things," he teased. "Oh, I've got tricks that will blow your mind, Sabine Wren."

A sly smile grew slowly on her beautiful face. "Yeah?" she challenged. "Are you willing to show me some more of these tricks?"

"Certainly," said Ezra. "If you're not busy this evening."

She rolled her eyes. "I've got some free time, sure," she replied dryly.

"Excellent," said Ezra. And he promptly got to work, worshipping her, adoring her.

*Author's Note: One of the craziest lines I've ever heard in romantic fiction is a woman saying to her lover, "Worship me." I immediately knew it was something Sabine would say to Ezra and, well, here we are.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

If You Can't Dance 5

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

You realise too late you have no idea where you’re going or what you’re doing. You just needed to be free of your humiliation. You find a room with a facilities placard on the door and dip inside. The bathroom is empty as you pump the lever on the paper towel dispenser. You take the length of two ply and fold it until it’s thick enough to sop up the tea on your shirt.

Not wanting to further embarrass yourself, you keep it in hand, keeping up the act of drying yourself as you make yourself back to the conference room. You can hear Jonathan’s voice on the other side. You take the opportunity to squeeze in the door and avoid looking at anyone as you tiptoe back to the table.

G is standing by your chair, slightly bent as he uses napkins to clean up the droplets of tea. There’s a fresh cup just to the side with a new teabag in steaming water. He looks up as you approach and you mouth a thanks as he switches your chair with a dry one. You sit and he pushes the new cup towards you.

You cup your cheeks, elbows on the table as you try to focus. There’s movement at the edge of your vision. You peek over and see G twisting a ring on his finger. He doesn’t seem as anxious as he does disinterested.

Your chest aches as you heat continues to hammer. You teeter on the precipice of doom. This is why you work from home, why you stay inside. You don’t associate with people because you’re not like them. You’re stupid and lame and you don’t belong.

You feel yourself shaking as your eyes sting. No, you won’t cry. You’re not in high school any more. You’re at work. You need to just get through this. Like an adult.

You realise how you haven’t taken in a word of what Jonathan’s said. It’s made all the more obvious as his eyes meet yours and the corners of his lips twitch. You gulp and quickly flick your gaze down to the table. You’re making all the wrong choices today.

You concentrate on the steam rising from the tea, listening to Jonathan’s voice as he presses on. He has that sort of confidence that you aspire to, the type you’ll never have. He is the type that makes you feel so small.

🖱️

Just after noon, there’s a break for everyone to top up their coffee or tea and claim some of the sandwiches brought in for lunch. You’re not very hungry so you stay at your table. G disappears but doesn’t head for the table of food. You don’t linger on his absence, even his presence isn’t very noticeable.

“Pardon,” a voice draws you out of your dread. You lift your head and look past Jonathan as he puts his hand on the back of an empty chair, “do you mind if I sit?”

You shake your head and tuck your chin down. You stare at your folded hands as he pulls the chair back and sits. He puts down a cup and plate with a croissant sandwich. He doesn’t touch either as you languish in silence.

“I’ve been talking all day it seems, it’s nice to have a break,” he intones.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

“What about you? Not hungry?” He prompts.

You shake your head again. His long fingers flutter over the table top. He shifts in his chair.

“You got your peppermint tea,” he points to the tag dangling from the tea bag.

“Uh, yeah.”

Your blunt answer and lack of explanation has him quiet again. He traces two fingers in a circle. He clears his throat.

“Are you alright? That tea must’ve been hot. I wish I’d had the chance to check earlier but you were so quick–”

“Fine,” you insist, “just hot water.”

“Of course,” he accepts kindly, “I’m not meaning to embarrass you.”

“I wasn’t embarrassed,” you lie and grab your empty cup, drawing it closer.

“Right, of course, just an unfortunate accident,” he says, “we’ll have a little longer here and then after, we will show you all to your work spaces. I suppose you’re eager to settle in.”

You nod. You’re not eager at all. You don’t want to work here, you want to be at home. Why does he have to change everything? And why does he have to make it all seem like he’s helping?

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a bite to eat? Maybe grab something before they’re all gone. You could save it for later,” he offers.

“No, thank you,” you say to the table.

You flinch as a shadow appears across from Jonathan. G sits down with a word. He pulls out his phone and scrolls. Jonathan stares at him, almost expectantly, but getting nothing he clears his throat.

“Hello, G, was it? Jonathan, it’s nice to have you on our team,” Jonathan says with his usual charm.

With no response, not even a glance, Jonathan opts instead to pick up his sandwich. He nibbles the edge as you set in the sludge of tension at the table. You peek at him and he gives you a sheepish smile.

“Um,” you crumple the paper cup in your hand unthinkingly, “I’m going to throw this out.”

You stand up, happy to have an excuse to escape. You can’t say who’s worse; the one who never talks or the one who talks too much. Together, they are the perfect storm of nope.

[candied-peach]

ao3: "hazardous to my health" rating: T warnings: prinxiety, allergic reactions genre: hurt/comfort description: Virgil has an allergic reaction on the way home. Roman isn't panicking about it at all, why do you ask?

The soap bottle's label is green.

Virgil squints at it suspiciously. Roman's washing his hands at the next sink, blissfully oblivious to the war waging inside his partner. Virgil hates not being able to wash their hands. Hot water doesn't feel like it's enough. However-

Gingerly, he picks up the soap bottle, peering at the label. It proudly lists 'with aloe' like it's some kind of accomplishment, and Virgil drops it like he's been burned. No, thank you. Hot water, it is. He looks around for a paper towel dispenser, not realizing his eyes have just scanned right past it.

"Well, that's a no," he grumbles to Roman, as his boyfriend finishes up washing his hands. Roman looks at him curiously, grabbing a paper towel from the other dispenser and handing it to Virgil.

"What?" Roman asks. Virgil points at the soap while drying their hands.

"It has aloe in it," he explains.

"Oh no," Roman says, dismayed. Virgil glances down at the damp paper towel in his hands, then back up at Roman.

"I hope that doesn't bite me in the ass later," Virgil says. "You washed your hands with it-"

"Virgil," Roman says, looking distressed. Virgil shrugs as he balls the paper towel up and throws it out.

"I've never reacted before to something like that," Virgil reassures his boyfriend. "It'll be fine." To prove it, they lace their fingers in with Roman's as they leave the gas station restroom. Roman needs coffee to make it the rest of the way and Virgil wanders the aisles a little bit, trying to find something he might want to eat. He's not having much luck, though. 

As Virgil buckles himself back into the car and rearranges his Mothman blanket around him, his hands start itching.

It has to be psychosomatic, Virgil thinks, trying to reassure himself. I'm just freaked out by the fact aloe is everywhere, trying to kill me. I didn't even wash my hands with the soap. It'll be fine. 

Five minutes later, Virgil knows it is most emphatically not fine. He itches everywhere. He doesn't see any super dramatic outbreak of hives, but he itches and there are red splotches on his hands that weren't there before.

"Virgil, I'm sorry," Roman says, glancing at him every few minutes out of the corner of his eyes.

"It's okay," Virgil says. He glances at the dashboard. They still have an hour to go. He doesn't have any allergy medication on him. Oh no. A cough breaks free before they can stifle it, but they don't pay any attention to it. The weather's cold, and his asthma always plays up a little in cold weather.

"You're worrying me," Roman says bluntly.

"I'm okay, I swear," Virgil says, scratching his scalp with both hands. He coughs again, muffling it in his sleeve. The sun glares down at them and the snow-covered landscape.

"I'm so sorry," Roman says. Virgil shakes their head.

"It's okay," they say again. "I didn't think I'd actually react to that. It's never been that bad before." Another cough interrupts him.

"You haven't coughed this entire trip," Roman points out. Virgil opens his mouth, ready to defend his asthma, when the words sink in, and panic flares to life.

Because they've stopped before. It's been this cold, or colder, at their previous stops.

And Roman is right.

"I wish I had Benadryl or something," Virgil mutters. His throat feels...weird. Not like swelling shut or anything, but breathing feels weirdly laborious in a way he doesn't want to think about. He coughs again, scratching his arm through his jacket. 

"Drink something," Roman implores, and Virgil grabs his Mountain Dew bottle out of the cup holder, twirling off the cap and taking a deep swallow. It soothes his throat a little. 

They pass a dollar store and Roman pulls into the parking lot. Virgil stares at him in mild confusion, absently scratching one cheek.

"I'm gonna get you allergy stuff," Roman promises. "Do you want to stay here?" Virgil nods. Roman locks his car door behind him, leaving the car running, and Virgil nearly reaches over to unlock it again. Worry strums his nerve endings. The anxiety is not helping him breathe. He googles aloe allergy symptoms and ends up glaring at his phone when it tells him that true aloe allergies or sensitivities are very rare, and promises him multiple articles on how to use aloe to treat allergies.

"Fuck off," he grumbles, shutting off his phone screen and leaning back in his seat. They cough again, and he glances at the store doors every time they open, praying to see Roman come rushing back out. Two people come out before Roman does, and he promptly unlocks Roman's door, giving him pleading eyes as he tries to scratch a particularly itchy spot on his back.

"Benadryl extra strength?" Virgil reads, ripping the box open after glancing at the directions. This one said only one tablet, so he follows the instructions, swallowing one with another sip of his Mountain Dew.

"Yes," Roman says. "And I uh, tried to get you some other allergy stuff?" Virgil peeks in the bag to see some kind of wipes. He glances at the ingredients list, just to make sure, and dissolves into creaky laughter.

"Roman, these have aloe in them," Virgil points out, wheezing in his laughter. Roman looks at them in dismay.

"I was panicking!" Roman explains. "I'm sorry, I didn't see aloe on the ingredients, I-"

"It's okay," Virgil assures him. "I always knew you wanted to kill me and make it look like an accident," he teases. Roman turns red.

"I'm sorry, I just- and I looked at so many, too, but they all had aloe," Roman laments. "I thought those would be okay since they're for babies."

"I guess they hate babies," Virgil says solemnly, making Roman snort despite himself.

"It'll be okay," Virgil adds, as Roman pulls back into the street.

"I'm still tempted to look up the nearest hospital," Roman says. Virgil shakes their head.

"I don't want to," he admits.  "Not- not yet? Give the Benadryl a chance to do something. But it will probably make me sleepy. Benadryl always knocks me out."

"That's okay," Roman says. "As long as you're okay."

Virgil still itches, but his cough has slowly started to go away. His chest still feels weird in a way he doesn't like, but he privately decides he won't say anything yet, not unless the Benadryl has fully gotten a chance to work and it's still there. Fatigue weighs him down, pressing him into his seat. They only got a few hours of sleep the night before anyway, deciding not to take their sleep meds just in case, because they didn't want to oversleep and miss check out time at the hotel.

Virgil slips in and out of a doze, listening to the miles unspooling beneath the wheels and the road trip playlist softly blare on the speakers. The sun slips below the horizon by the time Virgil opens his eyes properly, relieved to feel that the heaviness in his chest has dissipated.

"How are you feeling?" Roman asks, noticing him stir.

"Better," Virgil says sleepily. "How far now?"

"We're almost home," Roman promises them. Virgil nods, drowsy. "Just about ten or fifteen more minutes. We need dinner. Want me to go through Taco Bell or something?"

"Yeah, okay," Virgil mumbles, eyes struggling to stay open. "Sounds good to me."

Virgil perseveres through the next several minutes, relief flooding them when they see familiar landmarks and road signs. Being with Roman is always good, but he's glad they're nearly home.

"You should take a shower when we get home," Roman says. "Make sure you don't have any aloe residue or something anymore."

"Okay," Virgil agrees. "Help me?"

"Of course," Roman says softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Virgil says. He still faintly itches, but it's easy to ignore now.

"And I'm washing my hands with different soap before I hold your hand again or touch you," Roman says firmly. Virgil's bottom lip pushes out into a pout.

"Roman," he wheedles. "Come on..."

"No," Roman says. "I'm not giving you another allergic reaction." Virgil crosses their arms over their chest, pretending to sulk.

"You're so mean to me," he jokingly complains.

"I'm sorry I don't want to kill you?" Roman says, as he pulls into their driveway. A smile blooms on Virgil's face before they can stop it.

They're home.