#my baby 😕

[dollyhao]

no nut november has ellie sensitive :(. nsfw, cunnilingus (e!recieving), teasing

“no nut november?” your arms are crossed and your face is screwed up in confusion. “yup,” ellie says sitting on the bed leaning back on her arms. “no sex for 30 days.” your face doesn’t change. “i thought only men did that..?”

“jesse dared me.” “and you agreed?” ellie shrugs. you decide to see how far this goes, walking in between her legs leaning down to kiss her. ellie hands move to grab your waist but stop mid air. she pushes at your shoulders.

you pull away looking bewildered, “oh your being dead ass…” ellie can’t even fucking believe she’s doing this herself but she’s stubborn so she’s gonna stick it out. you stare at her with furrowed brows before your face relaxes and turns into a sudden smile. “ok,” you say grinning at her, “good luck.” you say walking to your kitchen.

wtf? are you upset or annoyed? if you are she wishes you would fuss at her instead of… smiling and making her feel unnerved.

it’s been a fucking week with no sex and ellie is SENSITIVE. the slight graze of your fingers has her flinching and wanting more. so when you decide to walk around the house in a crop top and some tight short shorts and ellie is practically in heat.

your laying on your stomach on the couch with a book in your hand while ellie watches you from across the room on the floor. she was supposed to be practicing a new song she was writing but she couldn’t stop glancing up at you. the way you lick your lips and absentmindedly play with your hair. or the way your ass moves slightly as you readjust yourself.

you look over at her because your not hearing her music anymore and see her already running her eyes up your body. you close your book opening your arms for her to come sit with you, “come here els,” you say trying so hard to hold back a smile.

ellie is never gonna finish this stupid challenge but you definitely won’t be the one to initiate it. so when ellie hurries over to you falling into your arms wrapping her arms around you, rubbing her hands over your back and trailing them down to your legs, you knew you had her.

“you ok? you’ve been so off lately..” you pulling away from her with a fake pout. ellie nods leaning in to kiss you. you let her peck your lips before pulling away. “els.. what about your challenge?” she lets out a loud groan throwing her head back, you giggle at her pecking her cheek. “please... let’s just..” ellie says before pulling you into a desperate kiss.

ellie grips your ass pushing her tongue in your mouth. you let her run her tongue over yours and moan in your mouth before pushing her away smiling, “let me take care of you,” you say rubbing her legs and kneeling on the floor in front of her. “please?” she says already pulling her sweat pants down. you break out into a wide grin seeing how desperate she is. you help her pull her boxers down and rub your hands on her thighs looking up at her with a sultry look.

“can you.. like, hurry?” she huffs out already leaking on the couch. “my love, did you think about what your stupid celibacy has done to me?” you say running your fingers up and down her slit, she nods furiously, “i—fuck— i know… i’m sorry.” she rubs the back of your head. you smile at her, pulling her to the edge of the couch laying the flat of your tongue against her clit dragging upwards slowly before taking her bud in your mouth.

ellie cradles your head with one of her hands as she throws her head back moaning loudly. she chants your name like a prayer when you fuck her with your fingers. “you like that baby~?” you smile at her with her juices on your chin. she doesn’t answer you as the knot in her stomach tightens she huffs and whimpers your name some more. but you got your answer when she clenched on your fingers.

you suckle on her clit again before she’s gushing on your fingers. ellie is resting her head on the back of the couches when she whispers “fuck me…” a shudder runs through her because your circling her clit slowly with your thumb. “i already did~” you say with a grin. “now my turn.”

[nyysblog]

i just love azzi fudd yk?

[elitisim]

So happy international women's day y'all! I just dropped a [Huge Male Hair Set] less than a week ago so nothing too crazy for today just a little conversion of [Sheabuttyr's Foxxy Fro's Mini Set].

INFO:

None of this is my original work! All credit goes to @sheabuttyr!

Set contains 4 hairs for for Teen ➤ Elder Females.

1024x textures.

all these are gameplayy friendly, they average at about 10k poly.

Includes All Morphs, All LODS and is disabled for random.

Preview pictures, color channel breakdown, poly counts and individual download links for every hair is under the cut.

tagging: @pis3update, @naturalhair-sims3, @xto3conversionsfinds

[Download Merged]

[Download Unmerged]

[Pick and Choose]

@sheabuttyr: Alania Afro // 8.6k Poly // Download Here]

@sheabuttyr: Afridi Afro // 12.5k Poly // Download Here]

@sheabuttyr: Folae Fro // 7.4k Poly // Download Here]

@sheabuttyr: Forressa Fro// 10.1K Poly // Under hats // has bands at end of braids// 1 channel// [Download Here]

[fleuraimer]

tw!!! messy, unhealthy family dynamic depicted.

started watching the bear and now i can’t stop thinking abt boxer!carmy, like southpaw but the bear.

next part.

boxer!carmy who started fighting because he watched rocky every day after school as a child (because kids can be quite cruel, can’t they? twinkling eyes and gummy smiles, expressive and vivid, raw, but that vast imagination is no stranger to destruction.)

small for his age, and maybe he liked the color pink more than the rest of the boys in his class, but mikey always said, ‘let it rip, kid. real men wear pink.’ as he wiped his little brother’s tears with the pad of his baby smooth thumb, so carmy never paid it much mind (not until his 10th birthday was coming up and his dad asked him what he wanted the theme of his party to be. he’d told him he didn’t care, “as long as it’s pink, and has cake.” he earned the first ass whoopin’ that left enough bruises for his teachers to notice. “fell off my trampoline,” he’d told them. the berzatto’s didn’t have a trampoline).

boxer!carmy who joins a local gym in 7th grade, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do with all this pent up, boiling angst, festering inside his body, running through the ichor of his being. mom was always screaming, dad was always drinking, sugar was always crying, mikey was never even there anymore…

the gloves cradled his hands the way a family should, hushed the tremble like a mother would to a child. calm.

the sand-bang took away his burdens the way a family could, carried the weight of his agony on boney, worn shoulders the way a father would for his son.

he beat on the bag until his sweat puddled at the floor beneath him, lights flickering as the owner (eddie, a bitter old man that took in “fuckin’ heathens” and gave them a place to call home) silently watched on from his place by the switches.

boxer!carmy who graduates high school, but doesn’t go to college, decides to focus on boxing instead. had already been going to the gym 4 times a week, but now, with school out of the way, he’s there almost every day. he prefers it this way, honestly, away from all the noise and calamity of his home life (can’t listen to another second of mom screaming about how she could have been someone if they hadn’t ruined her life. we could’ve been something, you hear me? and you all fucked it! can’t take sugar’s crying, sad little weeps that chip at his integrity. can’t watch mikey stumble in again, high off this that and the other and gone as fast as he came. can’t understand dad’s carelessness, more concerned with a bottle of bourbon and the ‘ball game than his own children). it’s nice there, anyway—with showers and a kitchen, he’s got all he needs.

he fights day and night, so often that sometimes it’s easier to just sleep there (and after the third time eddie stopped yelling at him about it so he thinks that maybe he might be warming up to him), curled up next to the heater with a blanket and a pillow he stole from mikey’s bedroom (he always had the fluffiest pillows. and besides, it’s not like he’d even fucking notice). he trains so hard and so long that by the end of what would’ve been his freshman year of college, he’s 62-0 in all his rookie matches from january to then.

boxer!carmy who, with his team of nacho (ignacio, a heavyset, easily sweaty sparring partner), benny (a skinny, white medic with frameless, 90s era specs, a hoop earring in his left ear, and a toothpick always in his mouth), and eddie, signs up to go pro, and by some fuckin’ miracle, he gets the headline event of the year.

pushes his ass to work harder than ever before, prove to himself (and mikey and sugar and mom and dad) that he is fucking doing something with his life, more than they ever had, and more than they ever will.

he knocks his opponent out in the 5th round, all teeth and bones intact. cries in eddie’s arms like a big baby, but for once, eddie doesn’t gripe. hell, he’s probably crying too, as he weakly tightens his hold around carmy, and hushes his incessant blubbering. i know, son, i know. y’did it. y’can rest now.

wipes his own eyes as he turns to face the crowd (let it rip, kid), fists pumped in the air in a show of triumph, victory, bittersweet in the absence of those who are meant to see his glory and realize, finally, he is someone, someone worthy of praise and some fucking apologies for all shit he’s been through.

boxer!carmy who fought his way in the ring, and fights every damn day for his spot on the floor. picks up a few more things than championship belts along the way. fractured fingers and broken noses, cracked ribs and misplaced shoulders, popped knees. none in vein, of course. oh, no—god, no—carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the beast—the bear—hadn’t lost a single match since entering the professional boxing league.

boxer!carmy who fights the heavyweight championship of the world, and fucking wins, just to find out later that night, after an evening of food, wine, sex, and celebration, that his older brother, michael ‘mikey’ berzatto, shot himself in the fucking head (let it rip, kid).

boxer!carmy who stops fighting after that. for a while (thinks about drinking and screaming the way mom and dad did to cope, but settles for short breathing and night terrors, instead). he doesn’t talk to the family, doesn’t pick up anyone’s phone calls (they hadn’t spoken in years (because he never picked up the fucking phone calls) and now suddenly because mikey’s dead everyone wants to fucking reconnect?), just comfortably sits in his big penthouse apartment, wallows and wonders on what could’ve been.

boxer!carmy who doesn’t touch a pair of boxing gloves for nearly 6 months, because what’s the point? but then, some little pussy decides to come and challenge carmy for his heavyweight title. he was in no mood, really. michael fucking died, he could kill somebody, for christ’s sake. but, even as a kid (the fuckin’ crybaby)—gettin’ picked on by his classmates for usin’ the pink chalk to draw on the pavement—carmy never really did know when to shut his fucking mouth.

he accepts the dickhead’s challenge, timothy grayson, after the second time he says some over the top, arrogant, macho white-trash bullshit on live fucking television (spews off some real intellect about never giving up fighting for anything or anyone, when he doesn’t even fucking know what happened. carmy’s fuckin’ angry, so angry he doesn’t notice the pretty broad beside him, not really, to busy picturing tommy’s or timmy’s or whatever the fuck his name is face beneath his fists).

boxer!carmy who sets up a pay-per-view fight against timmy boy to defend his heavyweight championship.

boxer!carmy who picks up his gloves again and feels the cradle and coo of a mother. fits the laces just right, finds his bag, and when he throws a right hook, feels his burdens being lifted from his back, protected and brave under the shield of a father.

this is who he is.

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto.

the beast.

the bear.

boxer!carmy who shows up to the pre fight weigh-in at his absolute best physical form, ready to fucking devour timothy on a silver platter.

boxer!carmy who goes up to on the stage after timmy—nacho, benny, and eddie by his side (plus the others accumulated along the years) thoughts calm over the roar of blasphemy being shouted at him. quitter! pussy! fuckin’ pansy bitch! (we could’ve been something, you hear me?)

he keeps his head down as he walks up the steps on the side of the stage, eddie’s hand settled on his right shoulder; grounding. and yet, as his eyes begin to lift from the ground beneath his feet, eddie’s grip on him doesn’t stop carmy from feeling like he’s floating 25 feet above the floor.

perfect, pointed, pink stilettos catch carmy’s eye, open toed with and big, chiffon-esque bow placed across the strap. his eyes trail higher.

deep, caramel skin, glinted in gold accents, fitting over knuckles and bangling from wrists. a mini skirt (shorter than usual, too short) to match the heels, and a skin tight, square neck top to accentuate a sharp, smooth collarbone. a couple stacked necklaces, some (unnecessary) cherry wine hued specs, and a sweet ribbon hanging from long, wistful curls, in that same damned pink.

his blue irises don’t stop fucking flitting around this unknown, ethereal figure until they land on a pair of rich, brown sugar eyes.

oh, jesus fuckin’ christ.

boxer!carmy who can’t keep his eyes off the pretty broad in pink for the rest of the show. he stands taller for her. flexes harder for her, puffs his chest with pride when his weight qualifies by a mile and a minute as the announcers read it from the scale. and the whole time, she’s lookin’ at him. fuckin timothy.

boxer!carmy who gets close to timmy when it’s time to showdown, closer than he has with anyone else. timmy’s yappin’, but it’s in one ear and out the other, nothin’ carmy ain’t heard before (could probably be considered kind in comparison).

he waits ‘til his trash talk subsides. until the silence he let bloom tangled with any single sliver of panic timmy might feel, and watches as it twists onto his ugly mug, brows furrowing. confused.

the corner of his lip lifts, and he holds timmy’s eye. “nice broad. pretty in pink, s’that your little girlfriend?” timmy’s stare hardens, but that deters carmy none. “quite the looker, shame she’s stuck next to your ugly fuckin’ mug—“

“keep her fuckin’ name out of you—“

“or what grayson? huh? can’t do shit now, can’t do shit after i whoop yo’ ass in the fight, and can’t do shit after y’pretty girlfriend dumps y’r s’rry ass because’a it.” nose to nose, breathing jagged, frustrated, a silence settles over them that speaks louder than any rebuttal timmy might’ve had.

carmy manages to press him further.

“i’m going to crush you, timmy. like a fuckin’ bug under my shoe. and after, i’m gonna take y’cute broad right over there back to my hotel suite, and fuck her like she wishes you could.”

boxer!carmy who walks off that stage with a bloody nose and a sore shoulder. but timmy left with a broken nose, an off set jaw, and crunched nuts.

he smiles as he stumbles down the stage steps, leaning into nacho and benny, a sense of dejà vu plaguing him as he recalls a shitfaced mikey falling through the doors of his childhood home (let it rip). but he’s swiftly pulled back into the real world when his eyes lock on a certain pair of wide, brown sugar, cherry red wine framed ones.

with a leaking nose and blood pooling at the seam of his lips, carmy grins, and shoots the pretty broad a wink.

———

a/n: can’t get him out of my head 🌚🧍🏽‍♀️

loosely edited/proofread!!

[gunsatthaphan]

#not having it.

[touyafootfetish]

“𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒， 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍”

“𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾，

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄”

[mchlgayser]

𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 [tattooist! yamato endo au]

⸻ cw: mention of getting a tattoo, needles, and slight mature themes (?)

qeena's brief note: tattoo artist yamato endo brainrot ໒꒰ྀི ≧ ᗜ ≦ ꒱ྀིა and chika takiishi cameo woohooo! i really love this one ngl, well that's cus i love yamato andd tattooist yamato endo?! wowz i exceed my expectations this time LOLL btw i may have not include this earlier but reader is written to be a female and exceeded minor ages and because it's an au, let's pretend yamato endo is no longer 18 which means timeskip! yamato endo(?) and truthfully idk whether this would consider mature themes but i added it on cw just in case rofl and that's pretty much it, thank you, i love you, and happy reading xoxo 💙.

The black haired-man ears perk up at the chime bell sound of the front door. He sat on his stool behind the counter until you came. You walk into his space, your alluring aura wrapping around him like a sultry embrace, leaving him captivated and mesmerized by your very presence. His eyes follow your every move as you glide gracefully towards him, "Hey," You noted, catching him off of his trance.

The taller male stood up, greeting you with a sly smile "Hey love', what can I help you with today?" Your eyelashes fluttered to your cheeks as you look down, examining every design the man had beneath his glass table "I'd like a simple design, anything. You have anything in mind?" Your voice appear small before him and that prompts him to smirk softly "Sure," He hands you a small book consisting simpler design. You browse through each pages, hoping to find something cool - even though meaningless, and pretty.

The pages almost ran out and as you skip to the last pages, one particular tattoo caught your observation "I'll have this one." Endo lean his head forward, "Ooh, nice choice, love'." It's an infinity butterly symbol, very minimal yet captivating.

The man whom introduced himself as Endo, or also known as the sole tattooist working in 'Noroshi Tats' assist you to a room, a small room with equipments and furnitures ready. He make you lie down on the chair and sat down on a wheeled stool beside you "Where would you like this again?" You look at him, biting your lips anxiously. Endo would've expected you to say on your forearm or your stomach, any places where it'd hurt less but when you said on your rib, his eyes widen "You sure, love?" He put on his gloves after washing his hands and putting hand sanitizer.

You nod your head, not hesitantly which makes him smile, and nod his head "Alright," He help you lift your shirt and put on some numbing alcohol pat over the place you'd like. He get the stencil of the tattoo you requested and transfer the design onto your skin and after prepping various of his needles and his tattoo machine, he gets ready "I'll start now, take a deep breath in, alright?" You close your eyes, flinched and yelps when the needles poke over your skin, leaving permanent ink inside you.

It's a long process, very long and painful process. You wouldn't count how many tears you shed throughout the entire session. Endo help getting the tattoo clean with antiseptic solution and apply a thin layer of ointment. When he showed you the result, you gasped, feeling a tad bit worried but mostly happy. No time for regret, you heard him said. After applying ointment and the solution, he wrap the tattoo with a bandage to prevent infections "... And, all done." You feel him caress the outer spot of your bandage and you jolt.

He laughs, helping you up from the chair. He told you about every possible precautions and aftercare you should do, not wanting you to mess up with the beautiful tattoo. He smile, guiding you out back to the counter "If you have any concerns or questions regarding your tattoo, contact us- me." He hand you his business card, not before he scratch the previous contact number on the card and wrote down a new ones "My actual number, contact me, okay, love?" By this, you're already immuned to his sweet-callings, grin at him and thank him.

He insert something on his computer, grinning at you when he's finished "After pretty woman discount, it's on the house." Your eyes widen, in disbelief by his words "What, no... I can't." He insisted, taking your hand which cause your whole body to tremble. His calloused hands against your much softer ones intersected for a while and then let go "Go on, see you again, lovie!" He wave, his wide smile adorning his beautiful complexion.

You got out of the shop, a flustered mess from both embarrassment and aftermath pain of your tattoo. And only then did you notice a wrap of caramel candy hiding in your palm.

"You make a customer left without paying again?" The long red to orange haired male questioned with a poker face. Endo grin, propping one hand beneath his chin.

"This is the last time, Takiishi, besides she's just too cute!"

[duusheen]

we made each other happy, Jay

[ikram1909]

My Roman empire ☹️

[scrollonso]

baby max :(

[kboo1999]

well damn.

[nyysblog]

my heart breaks for cam 😕 this news really made me cry.

praying for a speedy recovery for my girl. sending her so much love and support because this is something so heartbreaking.

[omnipotent-scient]

As the queen was making arrangements for Viserra’s departure from King’s Landing, the princess traded clothes with one of her maids to escape the guards who had been assigned to keep her out of mischief, and slipped from the Red Keep for what she termed “one last night of laughter before I go and freeze.”

[reggiestein]

Getting reused to drawing him is hard...

[brother-genitivi]

Destan and a sneaky dilfbastian

[cryscendo]

kurt hummel in every performance

3x11 - Michael

I Want You Back - Sebastian Smythe + Dalton Academy Warblers