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a-lexia11 · 1 month

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Meeting in Barcelona (part 1)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning: slow burn but like painfully slow… fluff, tiny angst

Words:Around 9k

Summary: You relocated to Barcelona for a new job as a third-grade teacher. During this time, you met and fell in love with your colleague's sister.

Note: Most of the dialogues are in Spanish because I really wanted to practice it since I feel like I’m losing it so yeah…but don’t worry there translation!

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Barcelona is the city where I have always wanted to live. It's truly the city of my dreams. How can you not love a place where it's always warm, the people are welcoming and friendly, and the food is exceptional?

That's why, after living in New York my whole life, I decided to quit my job as a third-grade teacher and pursue my dream of living in Barcelona.

I have always had a deep love for teaching children; it is one of my greatest passions. I truly enjoy imparting my knowledge to these young humans.

That's why I accepted a job as a teacher for third grade children in Barcelona.Living in my dream city and doing my dream job—what more could I ask for?

I've been studying Spanish for some time in preparation for my move. Although Spanish people talk rapidly, I'm managing quite well.

My parents supported my project. Initially, it was a bit tough for them to accept that I was moving out since we're a close-knit family, but in the end, they backed me up.

“Just give me a call once the plane land, okay?" My mom squeezed me so tightly that I could barely breathe. “Sure, Mom, I will” I replied, attempting to break free to hug my dad, who was patiently waiting his turn.

We were currently at the airport, and I was bidding farewell to my parents before departing for Barcelona.The day before, I had already said my goodbyes to my best friends, Madison and Carter, who are also my only friends. It was an emotional day, filled with tears and heartfelt moments.

After my mom finally let go, I turned to my dad. “I'll miss you, butterfly” my dad affectionately said. He always called me that because butterflies are my favorite insects.

“I'll miss you too, Dad” I responded as we separated and he kissed me on my forehead.

“Alright, I'll give you a call once I land. Love you guys” I informed them, grabbing my suitcase handle.

My mom wiped away her tears and said, “We love you too, baby. Take care of yourself.”

“I will” I assured her before making my way towards the boarding gate.

——

As the plane touched down at the airport in Barcelona, a wave of excitement washed over me. Stepping off the aircraft, I was immediately greeted by the warm Mediterranean air and the bustling energy of the terminal. The vibrant city awaited me, with its promise of rich culture, stunning architecture, and delicious cuisine. With a sense of adventure, I collected my luggage and made my way through customs, eager to explore everything Barcelona had to offer.

I decided to take a taxi to my new apartment in downtown Barcelona, time to try out my Spanish, I guess.

“¡Hola! Disculpe, ¿estás disponible?” (Hello! excuse me, are you available?) I asked one of the many yellow taxi drivers waiting in front of the airport.

“Sí, sí, estoy disponible. ¿Necesitas un viaje?” (Yes, yes, I'm available. Do you need a ride?) he asked, already stepping out of the car. “Si,por favor” (Yes, please) I replied, and he helped me with my suitcase, placing it in the trunk.

We got into the car, and I gave him the address of my new apartment. Shortly after, we arrived there. I paid the kind driver and said goodbye to him.

As I headed upstairs, I sent a quick text to my mom, letting her know I had landed and made it to the apartment.

I paused at the door, rummaging through my bag for my keys. After finding them, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling my suitcase behind me. I made a beeline to the couch and collapsed onto it, utterly drained from the seven-hour flight.

A little nap would not hurt anyone I suppose, so I got comfortable on the couch,laying down, and closing my eyes.

After a while, I’m awoken by my phone ringing. I jump a little, startled, and pick up the phone, seeing that it’s my mom calling me.

My mom's voice came through the phone, “I told you to CALL me, not TEXT me.” I laughed a little, “Mom, it's basically the same thing.” “No, it isn't!” she insisted. “Anyway, you finally made it. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, Mom, everything's great. The apartment, the weather, the people—everything's just perfect!” I responded cheerfully.

“I'm so happy to hear that, sweetheart” my mom said. “And you know what they say about Barcelona—it’s the city of love and romance. You might just find someone special there” she added excitedly.

“Ugh, Mom, not this again” I replied, feeling slightly exasperated. My mom has this thing about my love life, always eager for me to meet someone.

“What? I'm just saying! Plus, Spanish people are as hot as the weather there” she commented dreamily . I grimaced, “Eww, okay, Mom, I'm going to hang up now. I need to unpack! Love you and Dad! Kisses” I said, making kissing sounds. She echoed my words and hung up.

I wandered through the apartment, well-acquainted with it from my numerous visits. I went to my bedroom, set my suitcase on the bed, and began unpacking.

In the midst of unpacking, my phone rang, and I saw it was a call from the principal of the school where I will be working,Valeria.

"Hola"(hello) I answered the phone. “Hola! Y/N es Valeria” (Hi! Y/N It's Valeria!) she replied. “How are you?” she continued in English.

“I'm doing great, and you?” I asked her.

“Estoy fantástica, gracias. Llamaba para ver cómo estás. ¿Tu viaje fue bueno? ¿Te estás acomodando bien?” (I'm fantastic, thank you. I was calling to check on you. Was your trip good? Are you settling in properly?) she asked.

“Sí, muchas gracias. El viaje fue muy agradable y me estoy acomodando bien.” (Yes, thank you very much. The trip was very pleasant, and I'm settling in well.)

“¡Veo que tu español ha mejorado desde la última vez que hablé contigo! Has estado trabajando duro.” (I see that your Spanish has improved since the last time I talked to you,you’ve been working hard) she said

“Gracias, y sí, he estado estudiando y tratando de mejorar mi acento sin descanso” (thank you and yes I’ve been studying and trying to improve my accent non-stop) I laughed a little.

“That's good, so I'll leave you be. I'll be waiting for you on Monday to introduce you to all your future colleagues and your co-teacher” she said once again in english.

“Okay, no problem. I can't wait. I'll see you on Monday” I answered.

“Yes, I'll see you on Monday. Have a good evening” I echoed her words and hung up the phone.

——

After a while, my stomach started rumbling. I don't have any food right now, so I'll handle errands tomorrow. I'm too tired to run errands and prepare food.

I made the decision to venture out for some food, and during the taxi ride earlier, I happened to spot a charming little restaurant that caught my eye.

Being my first night here, I wanted to try something authentically Spanish, like paella.

So, I took a quick shower, threw on some comfy clothes, and left my apartment.

After wandering around and getting lost twice, I finally made it to the restaurant.

The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the cozy, rustic atmosphere created by the wooden tables and colorful tiles. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling cast a warm glow, while the delicious scent of paella and tapas filled the air. Vibrant flamenco posters and traditional pottery decorated the walls, adding to the place's charm.

The restaurant was bustling with activity, creating a lively and vibrant atmosphere that filled the entire space with an infectious energy. Diners chatted animatedly at their tables, the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation blending into a harmonious background noise. The warm lighting and the aroma of delicious food added to the inviting ambiance.

A kind waitress greeted me warmly and escorted me to a table, assuring me that she would return shortly with the menus.

While I was busy taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, the door swung open. At that moment, I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her presence was captivating, and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty.

She stood tall, around 5'8" or 5'9", with dyed blonde hair. Her hazel eyes and adorable smile were captivating. She wore a long denim skirt with a side slit, paired with a white crop top and a small leather jacket. Large hoop earrings completed her look.

She was accompanied by a shorter, older blonde woman who bore a striking resemblance to her. I assumed she must be her mother.

The same waitress who had greeted me now welcomed them with a warm smile and guided them to their table, which happened to be quite close to mine. As they walked in my direction, I could feel my heart race a little.

Not wanting to appear like a creepy person staring at the woman, I quickly averted my gaze and pretended to be deeply interested in the cutlery in front of me.

The waitress guided them to the table right next to mine, ensuring they were comfortably seated. She informed them with a warm smile that she would return shortly with their menus.

About a minute later, the waitress returned with menus for both my table and theirs, placing them in front of us with a friendly smile. She instructed me to give her a signal once I had decided what I wanted to order.

I thanked her and opened my menu, eager to see what the restaurant had to offer. The variety of dishes was impressive, with many options that made my mouth water. After carefully considering all the tempting choices, I finally decided to go with the classic traditional paella, a dish I had always enjoyed.

I saw the waitress and, as she had instructed, I signaled for her to come over. She approached and asked, “¿Ya sabes lo que vas a pedir?” (Are you ready to order?).

“Sí, ¿podría tener la paella, por favor?” (Yes, could I have the paella, please?) while looking up at her.

“Claro, ¿y qué te gustaría beber?” (Certainly, and what would you like to drink?) she inquired, writing down my order in her notebook.

“Solo agua, por favor.” (Just water, please) I replied.

“No hay problema, estará listo en breve.” (No problem, it will be ready shortly) she said, collecting the menus and giving me a friendly smile as she walked away.

I could sense someone’s gaze fixed on me, so I instinctively turned my head and found myself locking eyes with the beautiful woman sitting to the table next to me.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she responded with a gentle smile before returning her attention to the menus in front of her. In that brief moment, my mind wandered, fantasizing about what our future children might look like. Yes,Yes you can call me delusional.

A few moments later, the waitress returned, carrying my steaming paella and a carafe of water. She carefully placed them on the table in front of me and, with a warm smile, said, “Buen provecho” (Enjoy your meal) I thanked her and she walker away.

As I take my first bite of the beautifully presented paella, I can't help but let out an internal moan of delight.It's undoubtedly the best paella I've ever tasted.

As I continued to eat and occasionally stole glances at the woman beside me, a man came over to my table. His hands gripped the chair in front of me tightly.

“Hola, aquest seient està ocupat? Puc agafar aquesta cadira?” (Hi is this seat taken, can I take that chair?) He asks, in what I assume is Catalan.

Well shit, I don’t understand Catalan.

“Umm… what?” Out of instinct I started to speak english “I…lo siento pero no entiendo” (I…I’m sorry but I don’t understand) I continued.

Before he could repeat himself, the woman at the table next to me, speaking with a distinct Spanish accent, kindly interjected, “He want to know if he can take the chair.”

“Oh,si,puedes tomarlo” (Oh, yes, you can take it) I said looking back at him. He smiled gently at me, took the chair, and walked away. I then turned to the two women at the next table.

Looking at the woman who had helped me, I said, “muchas gracias” (thank you very much) with a grateful smile. She nodded in acknowledgment and smiled back at me.

“Eres inglesa?” (Are you English?) the other women, who I assumed is her mother, asked me “Soy estadounidense” (I’m American) I answered.

She smiled at me and said “Te escuché hablando con la camarera, tu español es muy bueno. ¿Vives aquí?” (I heard you speaking with the waitress, your Spanish is very good! Do you live here?) she continues.

“ Gracias y sí, me mudé aquí oficialmente hoy” (thank you and yes,I officially moved here today) I told her with a big smile.

“Bienvenida a Barcelona” (welcome to Barcelona) she said smiling warmly at me.

“Muchas gracias” (Thank you very much) I told her looking at her, I then turned to the other women who was looking at me with a shy smile, I smiled back and went back to my paella.

——

After finishing my paella, I asked the waitress for the bill. She brought it over, I paid, and then stood up. As I was leaving, I smiled at the two women nearby and said, "Have a good evening." They smiled back and echoed my words in Spanish.

As I’m walking out of the restaurant, I can't help but steal one last glance at the beautiful woman, hoping to catch a final glimpse of her captivating beauty before leaving and probably never seeing her again.

To my surprise, she was already looking at me. Our eyes met, and I couldn't help but smile. I waved goodbye, and she mirrored my gesture with a warm smile of her own.

Once I got back to my apartment, I quickly changed into my pajamas and headed straight to bed. Exhausted and ready to sleep, I put my phone on charge and lay down. I couldn't help but think about the woman at the restaurant. She was incredibly beautiful and had such charisma and presence. With thoughts of her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The following day, being a Sunday, I decided it was the perfect time to run some errands. I needed to stock up on food, so I took a shower, had breakfast, and left the apartment.

One of the perks of living where I do is that everything is within walking distance. Luckily, the store is not too far away.

Once I got there, I started picking up my groceries. After spending over 45 minutes shopping, I was finally done. I walked back to my apartment and began putting everything away.

The rest of the day was quite laid-back; I spent my time watching TV and having conversations with my parents and Madison over the phone.

Eventually, I grew restless and decided to take a walk.Locking my apartment door, I ventured out into the bustling streets of Barcelona. After wandering for a bit, I stumbled upon a charming park. I decided to enter and found a cozy spot on one of the benches, where I could sit and enjoy watching people play with their dogs and children.

Suddenly, a small, fluffy dog appeared in front of me and began barking. It was the cutest dog I had ever seen. I knelt down in front of it and said, "Hi there! How are you?" in a playful tone, not really expecting a response. The dog started jumping up and down, licking my face. I giggled and stroked its soft fur.

"Nala! Nala!" I heard a woman's voice calling out for the dog. As she came into view, I was stunned—it was the beautiful woman I had seen at the restaurant yesterday. I could hardly believe my eyes.

The woman approached and carefully picked up her dog. “Lo siento mucho” (I’m so sorry), she said, looking down at the dog in her arms. "Está bien, no te preocupes" (It’s okay, don’t worry), I replied. She looked up and gave me a gentle smile, and from the expression on her face, I could tell she recognized me.

At that moment, I noticed the height difference between us. Standing at 5'4, I wasn't very tall. She was dressed in a Barcelona tracksuit, her blonde hair flowing freely, and her sunglasses resting atop her head.

"Your dog is very cute," I said to her in English. Since she had translated for me what the man said in English yesterday, I assumed she speaks the language. And maybe, I also just wanted to hear her charming accent when she spoke English. There was something captivating about the way her words flowed, and I couldn't help but be drawn to it.

“Ah, thank you she really is but she also like to not listen to me” she said in a broken english. I giggled a little at her remark.

“Can I pet her” I said gesturing to the dog in her arms, “yes of course” she responded. As I start caressing her dog I could feel her gaze on me,I look back up at her and smile softly which she returned.

"The paella was good?" she asked suddenly. I was so mesmerized by her eyes that I didn't register her question. "Huh?" I responded, feeling a bit foolish. "The paella you had yesterday, was it good?" she repeated, sounding a bit awkward and shy.

"Absolutely, it was absolutely delicious! The most exquisite paella I've ever tasted," I expressed with a wide smile directed at her.

“My name is Y/N by the way" I introduced myself, extending my hands for a handshake. Her hands, large and soft, gently enclosed mine as she replied, "I'm -."She got interrupted by her phone ringing “oh! Un momento,lo siento” (just a moment,I’m sorry) she said as she reached for her phone.

I stepped back to give her some privacy. She quickly ended the call and turned back to me, saying, “It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now. My sister is waiting for me.” I nodded understandingly and replied, “Oh, it's okay, really. It was nice meeting you too.”

She flashed me a warm smile before turning to walk away. As she moved further down the path, she turned around once more, catching my eye. She sent another smile over her shoulder and waved at me, making my heart skip a beat as I watched her retreating figure disappear into the distance.

Shit! She never told me what her name was…

After about ten minutes, I made the decision to head back home. It was getting late, and my stomach was starting to grumble with hunger.

When I arrived back at my apartment, I decided to whip up a quick meal of ramen noodles. I settled down in front of the TV, enjoying my dinner. As the clock approached 10 pm, I realized it was time to get some rest. Tomorrow marked the beginning of my new job, and I was pretty exited about it.

I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth, preparing for bed. After plugging in my phone to charge and settling an alarm, I lay down, my mind still occupied with thoughts of that woman.I still can’t believe that I did not get her name.I found myself drifting off to sleep thinking once again about her.

——

I woke up to my alarm blaring and let out a groan. I rolled over, blindly reaching for my phone to shut it off.

After rubbing my eyes, I dragged myself to the bathroom for a quick shower. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and picked out a casual outfit.

I headed to the kitchen to whip up a simple breakfast. Once I was done eating, I grabbed my stuff and headed out.

The school where I was starting my new job was pretty close by. A short bus ride later, I found myself standing in front of the building, ready to take on the day.

I made my way toward the entrance of the building and stepped inside. The secretary greeted me with a friendly “Hola” as I entered.

“Hola, soy Y/N, la nueva profesora. Tengo una cita con Valeria.” (Hello, I’m Y/N, the new teacher. I have an appointment with Valeria) I informed her.

She smiled warmly and responded, “ Ah sí, Y/N, te estábamos esperando. Solo un momento, le avisaré a Valeria de tu llegada” (Ah yes, Y/N, we were expecting you. Just one moment, I'll notify Valeria of your arrival) I thanked her, and she got up and walked away.

"Good morning, Y/N," I heard from behind me, and I turned to see Valeria approaching with a wide smile on her face. "How are you?" she said in English, kissing both my cheeks.

Valeria is such a sweet and welcoming person. I've had the pleasure of meeting her numerous times, both in person and over video calls, to ensure I was well-prepared for my new job. Our conversations often lasted for hours, and through these interactions, we became quite close, almost like friends. Her warmth and friendliness have made this transition much easier for me.

“Hi Valeria, I'm great, thank you! How about you?”I asked her. “I'm amazing. Let's go talk in my office” she replied. I nodded in agreement and followed her, taking a moment to thank the lady at the entrance as well.

“So, how was your first weekend in Barcelona?”she inquired as we stepped into her office, her thick Spanish accent unmistakable. “It was wonderful! I went out and had the most amazing paella ever” I responded enthusiastically. She laughed and said, “I'm sure you did.”

I took a seat in front of her desk. “Alright, let's get down to business” she said. “The children are excited about the arrival of their new teacher, and your co-teacher is also eager to meet you”she informed me.

“I'm looking forward to meeting them as well”I replied. As we continued our discussion about my upcoming responsibilities, a knock on the door interrupted us.

“Entra” (Come in) Valeria shouted. The door swung open, and a woman about my height, with long, flowing brown hair, stepped into the office.

“Hola” the woman greeted us, and I responded with a smile. “Ah, Alba, estás aquí. Me gustaría presentarte a Y/N.” (Ah, Alba, you're here. I would like you to meet Y/N) Valeria said as Alba approached me. I stood up from my chair and extended my hand for a handshake.

“Encantada de conocerte, soy Y/N Y/L” (Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Y/L/N) I introduced myself warmly. She took my hand and offered a radiant smile.

“"Es un placer conocerte, Y/N. Soy Alba Putellas."(It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Alba Putellas)

We released our handshake and both took our seats again, facing Valeria. Valeria began to outline how we would collaborate in the classroom with the children. She provided detailed guidance on our roles and responsibilities, and offered valuable advice on effective co-teaching strategies.

——

After approximately an hour of reviewing all the necessary information, it was time for the children to start school. “Vale, entonces, te dejaré ahora, Alba. Te permitiré guiar y explicar a Y/N cómo funciona todo aquí.” (okay so, I’ll let you go now, Alba I’ll let your guide and explained to Y/N how everything works here) she said looking at Alba, she smiled at me and answered “por supuesto!” (of course).

We both stood up. Valeria then wished me well in english, “Y/N, good luck on your first day, and I’ll see you at the end of the day.” I nodded, expressing my gratitude, and said my goodbyes to her before heading out with Alba.

Throughout the entire day, Alba has been incredibly helpful and understanding. She assisted me whenever I needed help and translated for me whenever I couldn't understand a child.

We shared lunch together and discovered that we have a lot in common. Not only are we almost the same age—I’m just a year older—but we also enjoy the same activities. We both have a passion for shopping and listening to music, among many other interests.

I can already tell that we are going to become amazing friends.

The children were absolutely adorable and exhibited a remarkable level of patience, which is quite unusual for kids. I suppose it might be a trait in the Spanish genes.

At the end of the day, the parents came to pick up their kids from the classroom. Alba and I stayed behind to tidy up.

"Tía ¿Qué haces esta noche? (Girl, what are you doing tonight?) Alba asked as she bent down to pick up some papers and threw them in the trash.

“Nada” (Nothing) I replied.

“¿Quieres cenar juntas? Hay un nuevo restaurante de sushi que acaba de abrir, y quiero ir alli.” (Want to grab dinner? There's a new sushi restaurant that just opened, and I've been wanting to check it out)

“¡Amo el sushi! ¡Me encantaría ir!" (Oh, I love sushi! I'd love to!) I responded with enthusiasm.

Suddenly, Valeria appeared at the door. “Hola chicas!” (Hello, girls) she greeted us, and we returned the greeting. She turned to me, “I just came here quickly to ask you how was your first day?” She asked in english.

“It went really well. Alba was super helpful, and the kids were adorable. Everything went smoothly” I answered.

“I'm happy to hear that, now I’m sorry but I have a lot of meetings so I have to go” Valeria said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Adios, chicas!” We echoed her words as she left the room.

Once Alba and I finished we gathered our things and exited the school.

“¿Dónde estás estacionado?”(Where are you parked?) She asked me , “No tengo coche todavía, tomé el autobús para venir aquí.” (I don’t have a car yet, I took the bus to come here) I answered.

“¡Oh, ven conmigo entonces, puedo llevarte a casa!” (Oh,come with me then I can give you a ride home) she told me “¡Oh, no quiero molestarte! Está bien, de verdad, puedo tomar el autobús.” (oh no I don’t want to bother you it’s okay really I can take the bus)

“¡No, no, no! No voy a dejar que mi futuro mejora amiga y colega favorita tome el autobús. Vamos, te llevaré a casa, no me importa en absoluto.” (No,no,no I’m not going to let my future best friends and favorite colleague take the bus, come on I’ll drop you home I don’t mind at all)

I was hesitant at first, but eventually, I nodded in agreement. Together, we walked towards her car. She unlocked it, and we both got inside, ready to head home.

“A ver, dame tu dirección” (Okay,give me your address) I gave it to her “¡Qué casualidad! ¡Yo también vivo cerca de ahí, a solo cinco minutos! (What a coincidence! I live near there, like 5 minutes away) she exclaimed happily.

“¿En serio? ¡Eso es el destino! Estábamos destinados a conocernos y convertirnos en casi vecinos” (Really? That’s faith! We were meant to meet each other and became almost neighbors) I joked and, she giggled.

After a short drive filled with Karol G’s music we finally arrive in front of my apartment.

“Te recogeré alrededor de las 9, ¿está bien para ti?” (I will pick you up around 9, is it okay with you?) She asked.

“Sí, está bien, ¡gracias por el viaje!” (Yeah that’s fine, thank you for the drive!) I responded as I exit the car. “¡No hay problema, nos vemos esta noche!” (No problem, see you tonight!) She says excitedly and drove away.

I made my way up to my apartment and decided to get some work done in preparation for tomorrow's class.

——

After about an hour of hard work, my parents called me. They were eager to hear about how my first day of school went and if I had managed to make any new friends, almost as if I were the student rather than the teacher.

I shared everything with them, telling them about Valeria and Alba, and how I was planning to go out with Alba tonight. “Wow! Not even a week in Barcelona and you've already managed to get a date! Good job, butterfly” my dad exclaimed enthusiastically.

“ Dad, no, it's not like that at all! She's just a friend and a colleague. It's not professional” I tried to clarify.

“Sure, honey... just a friend” my mom said with a suspicious tone. “Ugh, you guys are so annoying” I muttered, rolling my eyes at them.

After ending the call, I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up and change into a new outfit.

Alba arrived promptly at 9 o'clock and honked several times to signal her arrival. We really need to exchange phone numbers.

I locked my apartment and made my way to Alba’s car. “Bueno, bueno, cuánto tiempo sin verte, amiga” (Well, well, long time no see, friend) she joked, which made me giggle.

After a brief drive, we arrived at the sushi restaurant. Alba parked the car, and we walked towards the entrance together.

A friendly waitress greeted us at the door, escorted us to our table, and handed us the menus. We placed our orders, and the food arrived fairly quickly, allowing us to dive into our meal without much wait.

“¿Hablas o entiendes al menos un poco de inglés, o tendré que hablarte siempre en español?” (Do you speak or understand at least a little bit of English, or will I always have to speak to you in Spanish?) I joked, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled and replied, “¡Lo siento, pero no, no inglés!” (Sorry, but no, no English!)

Alba then shifted the conversation, “Entonces, cuéntame sobre ti” (So, tell me about yourself) I smiled and asked, “Bueno, ¿qué exactamente quieres saber?” (Well, what exactly do you want to know?)

“Pues, todo, donde vivías, tienes hermanos?…” (Well, everything where do you used to live, do you have any siblings) she’s responded.

I told her that I was born and raised in New York, a city where I have spent my entire life. I mentioned that I do not have any siblings. I also expressed my long-standing dream of living in the vibrant city of Barcelona, a place that has always fascinated me. Additionally, I conveyed my deep passion for teaching.

“¿No tienes novio o novia?” (You don’t have any boyfriend or girlfriend?) She asked teasingly “no, no novio o novia”(no, no boyfriend or girlfriend) I replied.

“Estoy segura de que encontrarás a alguien especial aquí” (Ooh, I have no doubt you'll find someone special here) she exclaimed enthusiastically. “Sí, tal vez” (Yes, maybe) I responded.

“Sabes, tengo bastantes amigos solteros, y mi hermana también está muy soltera”(You know, I have quite a few single friends, and my sister is very much single too) she added with a mischievous grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

I giggled “No, gracias, no me interesan tus amigos ni tu hermana, pero ¿sabes qué? Conocí a una mujer durante mi primer día aquí” (no thank you,I’m not interested in your friends or your sister, but you know what I’ve met a women during my first day here)

Alba's eyes lit up with curiosity “Bueno, cuéntamelo todo. ¿Quién es ella? ¿Cómo la conociste? (Well, tell me everything! Who is she? How did you meet her?) she asked eagerly.

I hesitated, feeling a bit uncertain. “Pues... no lo sé realmente” (Well... I don't really know) I admitted.

Alba's brows knitted together in confusion. “¿Qué quieres decir con que no lo sabes?” (What do you mean you don't know?)

“Quiero decir, no sé quién es ella.” (I mean, I don't know who she is) I explained.

“La vi por primera vez en un restaurante y pensé que era increíblemente hermosa. Luego, al día siguiente, la volví a ver en un parque. Intercambiamos algunas palabras, pero fue muy breve. Así que, sí... no sé su nombre ni nada sobre ella” (I first saw her at a restaurant and thought she was incredibly beautiful. Then, the next day, I happened to see her again at a park. We exchanged a few words, but it was really brief. So, yeah... I don't know her name or anything about her)

Alba smile in amusement “¡No puedo creer que tengas un pequeño “crush” por alguien cuyo nombre ni siquiera conoces!” (I can’t believe that you have a little crush on someone whose name you don’t even know!) She said laughing.

I made a funny face at her, then tossed one of my chopsticks in her direction, and playfully stuck my tongue out at her.

Her phone then rang, “un momento por favor, es mi hermana” (just a moment please, it’s my sister) I nodded at her and continue eating my sushi but I still heard her conversation.

“Que quieres Ale?…si…si..ok no problema…si.. escucha estoy comiendo con mi amiga, te llamaré más tarde,te quiero,adios” (What do you want Ale?..yes…yes..ok no problem..yes..listen I’m eating with my friend right now, I’ll call you back later,I love you,Bye) she said to her sister and hangs up the phone.

“¿Ahora, dónde nos habíamos quedado?” (Now, where were we?) she asked playfully, raising her eyebrow.

——

We spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other better. She shared stories about her mom, Eli, her late father, and her sister, Ale although she did not say much about her.

Eventually, we finished our meal and decided it was time to go home. We got into her car, and she drove us back. Once we arrived at my apartment, we exchanged numbers, and she insisted on picking me up for work the next morning.

I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, asked her to text me once she got home safely, and then stepped out of her car.

I did my night routine and went to bed, scrolling through my phone.I received a text from Alba.

Alba: ¡Estoy en casa a salvo, no te preocupes, nadie me mató!😉

(I’m home safely,don’t worry no one killed me!)

I chuckled at her messages and wished her a good night.

——

I’ve been in Barcelona for a full two weeks now, and to be honest, not much has changed. Alba was kind enough to introduce me to some of her closest friends, who turned out to be really nice and welcoming. It’s been great getting to know them.

However, there’s still no sign of that mysterious woman. I have to admit, I’ve visited the park multiple times over the past two weeks, hoping to see her again, but unfortunately, she hasn’t shown up. I think it might be time to move on and let go of the idea of meeting her again.

On a brighter note, Alba and I have grown much closer. We spend almost all of our free time together, and she’s been coming over to my place nearly every day.

Today, being a Saturday, Alba and I decided to go shopping together. We spent the entire afternoon wandering through various stores, and enjoying each other’s company. I absolutely love spending time with her; she’s genuinely the nicest and sweetest girl I’ve ever met.I feel incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful friend by my side.

Alba, on the other hand, has been complaining non-stop because I made her walk instead of taking the car. She’s been whining about it all afternoon.

“Si hubiéramos tomado mi coche, ya estaríamos en casa ahora mismo” (If we had taken my car, we would already be home by now) she whined for what felt like the hundredth time.

“¡Caminar es bueno para ti, Alba!” (Walking is good for you, Alba!) I said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. She glared at me with a look of pure annoyance and retorted, “No, no lo es. Mis pies me están matando” (No, it’s not. My feet are killing me.)

We finally arrived in front of Alba’s apartment building after a long day. She turned to me and asked, “¿Te gustaría quedarte un rato?Mi hermana va a venir, me gustaría que la conocieras.”(Would you like to stay for a while?My sister is coming over,I’d like you to meet her.) I appreciated her offer but politely declined.

“No, gracias. Tengo mucho trabajo que debe terminarse antes del lunes ¡Conoceré a tu hermana otro día!”(No, thank you. I have a lot of work that needs to be finished before Monday.I’ll meet your sister another day!)

She nodded understandingly and then asked, “Está bien, no hay problema. ¿Te gustaría que te lleve a tu casa?” (Alright, no problem. Would you like me to drive you to your place?)

I smiled and shook my head. “No, no te preocupes. Deja que tus pies cansados descansen” (No, don’t worry about it. Let your tired feet get some rest) I replied reassuringly.

She laughed softly, and we shared a warm hug. She kissed me on both cheeks, and with a final wave, we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I walked home, and as I got closer to my apartment, I started rummaging through my bag, searching for my keys. Distracted and not paying attention to where I was going, I accidentally bumped into someone dropping all my shopping bags.

“Oh my God! Lo siento mucho!” (I'm so sorry!) I exclaimed, looking up to see who I had collided with.

There she was.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Standing before me was the beautiful woman I had been inexplicably obsessed with for the past two weeks.

“Y/N?” she said, recognizing me instantly. Oh my God, she remembered my name.

“I... hi!” I responded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I'm really sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“It's okay, do not worry about it” she reassured me with a smile. I took a moment to take in her appearance; she looked amazing. Her hair was down, and she was wearing a white cap, denim jeans, a white long-sleeve shirt, and a sleeveless vest.

I bent down to retrieve my bags, and she kindly assisted me in gathering everything. “Thank you” I said, expressing my gratitude once we had collected all the bags, and she handed them to me.

“You're welcome” she replied with a gentle smile. “You really did a lot of shopping” she added with a soft laugh, and I couldn't help but smile at her comment.

“Yes, I did. My friend definitely influenced me to buy quite a bit” I explained, and she laughed along with me.

“Well, it was really nice seeing you again, Y/N. I have to go now because my little sister is waiting for me” she informed me, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

“Oh, okay, sure. Have a wonderful time with your sister then!” I replied, offering her a soft smile. She returned the gesture warmly and began to walk away, her steps light and hurried.

“Wait!” I called out impulsively, unable to let the moment slip away. She turned around, a look of mild confusion etched on her face.

“You know my name, but I don't know yours” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Ah, si es verdad. Me llamo Alexia” (Ah yeah,that’s true my name is Alexia) she responded, her tone friendly and open.

“Okay, Alexia, that's a beautiful name!” I exclaimed, genuinely appreciating the sound of it. She smiled broadly at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.

Boosted by a sudden surge of confidence, I found myself asking, “Can I maybe have your number? You know, so we can stay in touch or maybe become friends...” My voice trailed off, the initial bravado giving way to a touch of nervousness.

She looked at me with a sympathetic expression and gently said, “Umm... I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea” her words kind yet firm, smiling pitifully at me.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I felt my cheeks flush with color. “Oh, it's okay, really... um... have a nice day” I mumbled, not waiting for her response.

I turned and walked away quickly, my heart pounding with a mixture of regret.

——

As I stepped into my apartment, a wave of intense embarrassment washed over me. I couldn't believe I had decided to be confident. Why, oh why, did I think that being bold would lead to anything good? Look where it got me—feeling utterly humiliated and regretful.

I made a solemn vow to myself that I would never, under any circumstances, bring up this humiliating moment again.

To help myself forget, I decided to immerse myself completely in the stack of paperwork that was piled up on my kitchen table. I hoped that by diving into the work I could push those embarrassing memories to the back of my mind and eventually erase them altogether.

——

On Monday, Alba arrived to pick me up for work. At this point, it had become a well-established routine; she would come to get me every morning and ensure I got home safely every evening. This daily ritual had become an integral part of our schedules, making our commutes together a regular and comforting part of my day.

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at me for a second before turning her eyes back to the road “Has estado muy callado esta mañana” (You've been very quiet this morning) she continued, her voice gentle but probing.

Truthfully, I was not okay. My mind was still preoccupied with the sting of rejection from Alexia last Saturday. It had been a difficult weekend, and my thoughts were consumed by what had happened. Yes, I am an overthinker, and I couldn't help but replay the moment over and over in my head, analyzing every details and wondering what went wrong.

Even though Alba has quickly become one of my closest friends here in Barcelona, I want to move past what happened, so I’d prefer not to share it with her.

“Estoy solo cansada, nada demasiado grave.” (I'm just exhausted, nothing too bad) I said, flashing her a gentle smile in an attempt to put her at ease. She seemed skeptical, but thankfully, she didn’t press for more details.

To comfort me, she placed her hand on my thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Parecía que todos se sentían decaídos” (It seemed like everyone is feeling low) she sighed heavily. “¿Por qué? ¿Qué pasó?” (Why? What happened?) I asked her.

“Mi hermana conoció a esta chica, y aunque no la conoce muy bien, la encontró muy atractiva. Sin embargo, siente que debido a su trabajo, no puede salir con nadie en este momento... así que esencialmente se está impidiendo encontrar el amor.”(My sister encountered this girl, and although she doesn't know her that well, she found her very appealing. However, she feels that because of her job, she can't date anyone right now... so she's essentially stopping herself from finding love) She told me looking kinda sad for her sister

“Eso es realmente desafortunado. ¿Qué tipo de trabajo tiene tu hermana que le impide encontrar el amor?” (That's really unfortunate. What kind of job does your sister have that prevents her from finding love?) I inquired.

“Ella es futbolista profesional, y su agenda está llena de entrenamientos y viajes.” (She's a professional footballer, and her schedule is packed with training and traveling) she explained.

“¡Wow , ¿es futbolista profesional? ¡Eso es increíble! ¡No puedo creer que nunca me lo hayas mencionado antes!” (Wow, she's a professional footballer? That's amazing! I can't believe you never mentioned that before!) I exclaimed, giving her a slightly reproachful look. “Pero es realmente lamentable que ella sienta que no merece amor solo por su carrera tan exigente” (But it's really unfortunate that she feels she doesn't deserve love just because of her demanding career)

“Sí, lo es, pero afortunadamente para ella, tiene a la hermana más increíble que la llevará a salir esta noche y la ayudará a olvidarse de todo eso. ¡Noche de hermanas!” (Yes, it is, but fortunately for her, she has the most amazing sister who will take her out tonight and help her forget all about it. Sister night!) Alba declared proudly.

“¡Sí! La mejor hermana del mundo” (Yes! Best sister ever) I responded with playful sarcasm, matching her enthusiasm.

“Solo estás celosa porque no tienes la oportunidad de tener una hermana como yo” (You're just jealous because you don't get to have a sister like me) she teased, giving me a pinch on the thigh where her hand had been resting.

I laughed, turned up the radio, and started singing along to Lana Del Rey.

——

It’s been a month since I’ve been in Barcelona now, and everything has been absolutely perfect, well, minus the rejection incident from Alexia…

Work has been exceptionally good, and with the generous help of my parents, I was finally able to purchase a car, which has made life so much easier.

Alba and I have grown closer than ever. Our bond is very platonic and sisterly, and she’s been eager for me to meet her family. She especially wants me to meet her sister, with whom she shares a very close relationship, from what I understand.

That's why, at this very moment, I'm seated at a cozy bar with Alba and four of our friends. We're eagerly waiting for her sister to join us, and I'm looking forward to meeting her.

If her sister is even half as nice and amazing as Alba, I'm sure I'm going to absolutely love meeting her. I'm really looking forward to it, especially since Alba has set such a high standard with her wonderful personality.

“Alba,donde está Ale, tengo hambre!” (Alba, where’s Ale? I’m hungry) Bianca, one of Alba’s friends who has also become my friend, asked Alba with a slight whine.

“Acaba de enviarme un mensaje. Su partido duró más de lo esperado y ahora tiene algunas entrevistas que hacer, así que llegará un poco tarde.” (She just texted me. Her match went on longer than expected, and now she has some interviews to do, so she’ll be a bit late) Alba responded, her eyes fixed on her phone as she typed back.

Bianca giggled a little and said, “Ah, no hay descanso para La Reina.” (Ah, no rest for La Reina.)

From what I understand, Alba’s sister is an exceptional football player, which is why she’s called “La Reina.”

Honestly, I haven’t looked up much about her since I find football really boring and I hate it.

“Vale, ¿entonces supongo que podemos pedir algunas bebidas?” (Okay, so I guess we can order some drinks then?) Marco, one of our other friends, asked.

“Sí, vamos a pedir. Ella no estará aquí por un rato” (Yes, let’s just order. She won’t be here for a while) Alba responded.

We all picked up the menus and decided on our drinks and some food too. After a few minutes of discussion and suggestions, we placed our orders with the waiter. The atmosphere was lively as we chatted and laughed, waiting for our orders to arrive.

About thirty minutes later, I got a call from my best friend Madison, which is odd since she usually texts, she doesn't call.

I excused myself from the table and stepped outside where it's quieter.

Answering the phone, I heard a frantic Madison, “Where are you, girl!?”

Confused, I replied, “What do you mean, where am I? I'm in Barcelona. Are you drunk?”

Madison's voice was joined by my other best friend Carter, “No, we're not! We're outside your apartment, but you're not here.”

Shocked, I exclaimed, “WHAT! What do you mean you're outside my apartment? You guys are in Barcelona?!”

Excitedly, Madison confirmed, “Yes, baby, we are!!! We wanted to surprise you, but you're not at your place. Where are you?”

Realizing the situation, I quickly said, “Oh, I'm at a bar with some friends. I'll say goodbye and be there in 10 minutes.”

“Okayyy, we'll wait! Hurry up” Madison replied before hanging up.

I made my way back inside the bar, feeling a mix of emotions.

“¿Está todo bien?” (Is everything alright) Alba asked me, concern evident in her eyes as she saw me returning to the booth where we were all sitting.

“Sí, todo está bien” (Yes, everything is fine) I assured her, “pero tengo que irme” (but I have to leave) I added.

“¡No! ¿Por qué? Ale me envió un mensaje y me dijo que llegará pronto.” (No! Why? Ale texted me she’ll be here soon) she informed me, frowning.

“Lo siento mucho, pero mis amigos acaban de llamarme y están en Barcelona. Fue una sorpresa, y ahora están esperándome frente a mi apartamento.” (I’m really sorry, but my friends just called me and they are in Barcelona. It was a surprise, and now they are waiting for me in front of my apartment) I explained, feeling a little bad.

“¡Está bien, ve a ver a tus amigos! Ya la conocerás otro día.” (That’s okay, go see your friends. You’ll meet her another day) she replied, understanding and supportive.

I went around the table to give each one of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek, saying goodbye.

As I left the bar and made my way through the parking lot to my car, I was so eager to see my friends again that I wasn't paying attention and almost got hit by a car. Luckily, the driver stopped just in time.

I turned towards the car, a black Cupra, and gestured with my hand to apologize to the driver. Although I couldn't see the person clearly, I could tell it was a blonde woman.

She gestured back to let me know it was okay, and I continued on to my car.

After a 10-minute drive, I arrived at my apartment and saw Madison and Carter waiting in front of the building.

"Hey!" I called out, waving excitedly. They looked up, grinned widely, and ran towards me, calling my name repeatedly.

I laughed and met them halfway. We hugged and jumped around, thrilled to see each other after a month.

“Alright, let's head Inside” I suggested as we made our way back to the building.

“How long are you planning on staying ?” I inquired. “Just a quick 3-day visit” Carter responded. I grinned, “I'm so excited you guys are here! I've got so much to tell you”

After they freshened up and changed into more relaxed outfits, I filled them in on my Barcelona adventures, sharing stories about Alba, my friends, work, and life in the city.

“So, any luck in the love department?” Carter teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Not quite” I confessed, feeling a tad embarrassed, "there was this girl, but she rejected me when I asked for her number."

Madison and Carter exchanged glances before erupting into laughter. I shot them a mock glare, “Not funny, guys” playfully hitting them with a pillow.

“It's funny” they both said simultaneously. I huffed at them and give them the finger.

After their laughter died down, Carter reassured me, “Don't worry, there are plenty of other fish in the sea; you'll find someone else.” Madison chimed in, “Yeah, that girl doesn't know what she's missing.”

“Thanks, guys! I love you” I said, smiling softly at them. “We love you too” they responded, and I jumped on them hugging them tightly.

——

Those three days flew by so quickly, but we had an amazing time nonetheless. They met Alba and her friends, and although the language barrier posed a bit of a challenge, we managed to get by.

Naturally, we went shopping, hit the beach, and enjoyed the nightlife—basically all the fun things you can do in Barcelona.

When it was time to say goodbye, I dropped off Madi and Carter at the airport, giving them tight hugs and receiving their promise that they would visit again soon.

——

“¿Qué vas a hacer el sábado por la noche?”(What are you doing on Saturday night?) Alba asked me as we enjoyed our lunch break at school.

“No mucho, ¿por qué?” (Not much, why?) I replied, taking a bite of my pasta.

“¡Ale está jugando y tengo entradas! ¡Por favor, ven conmigo!” (Ale is playing, and I got tickets! Please come with me!) Alba pleaded.

“Alba, sabes que no me gusta el fútbol.” (Alba, you know that I don’t like football) I said.

“Lo sé, y a mí tampoco, pero es mi hermana la que juega. Es una gran oportunidad para que la conozcas” (I know, and neither am I, but it’s my sister playing. It’s a great chance for you to meet her) she explained. “Además, después del partido, vamos a cenar con mi mamá, y también puedes conocerla an ella.” (Plus, after the match, we’re going out to dinner with my mom, and you can meet her too.)

I considered it for a moment. “Okay, pero solo porque voy a conocer a tu familia.” (Alright, fine, but only because I get to meet your family) I agreed. She cheered and leaned over the table to give me a kiss on the cheek.

——

I was in my apartment with Alba, getting ready to go to her sister's game—Barcelona against Real Sociedad. According to Alba, it should be an easy win.

“¡Oh! ¡Tengo un regalo para ti! No te pongas una camiseta.” (Oh! I have a gift for you! Don't put on a shirt) she exclaimed, standing up from the couch and heading towards her bag.

She pulled out a Barcelona jersey.

“¿Qué es eso?” (What's that?) I asked, examining the jersey. “Es la camiseta de mi hermana. Mira, ese es su nombre en la parte de atrás.” (It's my sister's jersey. Look, that's her name on the back) she said, turning the jersey around so I could see. It had Alexia written with the number 11 below her name.

That name brings back some embarrassing memories...

“Espera, pensé que el nombre de tu hermana era Ale” (Wait, I thought your sister's name was Ale) I said, confused.

“No, "Ale" es su apodo, su nombre real es Alexia.Ale no es ni siquiera un nombre real” (No, Ale is her nickname. Her real name is Alexia. Ale isn't even a real name) she explained as if it were obvious.

“Bueno, para mi era real. ¡Tú y todos tus amigos la llamaban así!” (Well, it was real to me! You and all your friends called her that!) I replied.

“Sí, porque ese es su apodo. ¡Todos la llaman así! De todos modos, aquí, póntelo. ¡Es para ti!” (Yes, because that's her nickname. Everyone calls her that! Anyway, here, put it on. It's for you) she said, handing me the jersey.

“¡Oye! ¿Por qué tengo que usar uno yo y tú no?” (Hey! Why do I have to wear one and you don't?) I complained.

“¡Porque es el primer juego que verás en persona! Necesitas experimentar todo al máximo.” (Because it's the first game you'll see in person. You need to experience the full thing) she said excitedly.

I rolled my eyes but put on the jersey anyway.

“Vamos mi amor” (Let's go, my love) she said excitedly and slapped my butt. I laughed at her and grabbed my bag as we exited my apartment and headed to the stadium.

Once we arrived at the stadium, we settled into our seats, which were quite close to the tunnel where the players come out.

While Alba was preoccupied with her phone, I took in the atmosphere of the stadium, noticing that many fans were wearing jerseys with Alexia's name. She must be an exceptional player for so many people to sport her jersey.

“Tengo hambre, voy a buscar algo de comida. ¿Quieres algo?” (I'm starving, I'm going to grab some food. Do you want anything?) Alba asked as she stood up from her seat.

“No, gracias” (No, thanks) I replied, glancing up at her. She nodded and walked off.

Lost in my thoughts, I was suddenly brought back by the sound of cheers from the crowd. Turning my head, I saw players emerging from the tunnel for their pre-match warm-up.

The cheers grew even louder as a blonde player stepped out. I couldn't see her face, only her back and her blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

When she turned around to greet the fans it felt like time stood still. There she was, the woman who had turned me down!

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, so I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. What is happening?I- I’m speechless. So I got rejected by a famous football player then… great…

I can't believe it. Alexia is a football player and a very famous one. She—

Wait... Alexia... Alexia... Ale—Oh my God, are you kidding me?! Alba's sister is Alexia, my Alexia??? The woman I thought about almost every night before bed and who rejected me!

Alba came back with her bowl of popcorn in hand, but I was so shocked I couldn't move... How the heck did I not realize this before?

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, noticing my state. "No" was all I could respond.

She put her hand on my thigh. “Que paso? (What happened?) she asked. I looked her in the eyes.”Tu hermana es Alexia” (Your sister is Alexia) She frowned. “Sí, te lo dije” (Yeah, I told you that) she replied.

“Alexia es la chica de la que te hablé esa noche en el restaurante de sushi,la que encuentro al restaurante, la que me pareció hermosa pero de la que no sabía nada...” (Alexia is the girl I told you about that night at the sushi restaurant, the one that I met at a restaurant and I thought was beautiful but knew nothing about...) I said, looking her in the eyes.

“¡¿Qué?! ¿Eres la chica por la que ha estado deprimida durante semanas?!” (What?! You're the girl she's been depressed about for weeks?!) she practically screamed, surprised.

#woso community #woso #woso soccer #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso appreciation #woso x reader #women’s football #futfem #fcb femení #alexia putellas imagine #woso one shot

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charlotteking23 · 8 days

Text

Money, money, money - MV1/33

Max Verstapppen x reader

Summary: texting Max you spent 5k on various expensive brands.

Warnings: 'Money, money, money' by ABBA mentioned a lot, recommend playing the song while reading this.

Shopping...

One of your favorite things to do besides cuddling with your babies Jimmy and Sassy.

So here you were roaming the expensive Monaco mall, with your cute white dress and a little bow in your hair making you seem so innocent at first glance.

Upon looking at the many stores none have caught your eye, as you walk aimlessly around the mall.

The sound of your YSL heels clicks around the white marble floor, seeing your favorite makeup store in sight.

As soon as you enter all the stress and worries melted away seeing the displays of clothes.

"Ok, don't go overboard again, be calm, and don't get too much," You said in your thoughts walking timidly around the store, trying to say the affirmations in your head as best as possible.

Upon saying those affirmations you saw your favorite clothing brand and out those affirmations went, that you were trying so hard to follow.

You saw so many clothes you had yet to buy, putting them in your basket not slowing down.

"Excuse me, Ma'am", One of the store clerks said interrupting your from you shopping addiction rampage.

"Um, yes", you said slowly turning around to see the store clerk smiling at you with an empty basket in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt but I noticed your basket full so I came to give you another one," She said rather kindly handing you the basket.

You looked down at your basket which was full to the brim, now in any other situation you would decline politely and make the hard decision of putting some of the clothes products back in their belonging place.

"Thank you", You said taking the empty basket shooing away any worried thoughts out of your head, only thinking about shopping.

You waited in line to purchase all the clothes you wanted to buy before hearing the lady calling for the next customer.

You put your two full baskets of makeup on the table, watching as the lady was probably judging you for buying all these expensive items, but that didn't matter as the total came out to 5k.

5k as in 5 thousand dollars, you grab your wallet out taking out the first credit card you could see before inserting it in the machine and hearing the beep to take it out.

You waved goodbye to the lady, walking out with large shopping bags from various brands in your hand while looking at the receipt in disbelief.

You take out your wallet again to put the receipt inside so you don't lose it but something else catches your eye...Max credit card.

"Oh..No, omg don't tell me I paid for this 5 thousand dollar clothes with Max's credit card, damn it", You were astonished how the hell did you mistake your credit card with Max's credit card.

I mean you knew why, you were so surprised by the total, you weren't paying attention and must have picked up Max's credit card instead of yours.

You knew you had to come clean to Max as already the guilt was starting the way in on you.

You tried calling him but to no avail, so your next option was to Max yourself.

Well that was not what you were expecting, but I mean Max is loaded with money.

'ding'

you opened your phone to see a notification from Venmo, OMG.

Max just sent you 10 thousand dollars through Venmo, what the fuck.

You quickly called Max anxiously, swaying back and forth frantically.

"Max!", you shouted out before seeing the looks you were receiving by onlookers before speaking more quietly but still frantically.

"yes, liefje what's wrong", Max said either oblivious to your shouting worries or teasing you.

"Maxie, why would you send me that much money", you whispered loudly before quickly leaving towards the exit of the mall.

"Why not liefje, you deserve it", Max charmingly said.

"I already spent a lot of your money, why more?", You said with guilt in riding in your conscience.

"Liefje, you can spend as much money as you want, I want to be able to afford whatever your heart desires", Max sweetly said, you don't know what happened but as soon as you heard that all your worries melted away.

"Thanks, Maxie I appreciate the gesture but I think I am done shopping for today", You quietly whispered ready to just go home.

"hmm, if you're sure. Do you want me to come pick you up", you heard Max say. Also hearing some faint noises in the background.

This only means one thing Max is sim racing right now, "It's okay, I brought the car anyway, I will see you home".

"Okay liefje, I love you", Max spoke through the phone.

"Love you too", you said before hanging up.

You walked towards your car opening the backseat door before putting all your shopping bags in.

You turned on the car, putting on your favorite singer ABBA.

"Hmm 'Money, money, money' or 'Dancing Queen'...well 'Money Money Money' seems to fit the situation better.

You began driving and singing all your worries away, dancing very crazy in the car with not a single care in the world.

'If I got me a wealthy man I wouldn't have to work at all'

'Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world'

'So I must leave, I'll have to go To Las Vegas or Monaco'

You made it home to you and Max's shared apartment with your dignity slightly intact.

Your hair was all crazy and you were out of breath with your private dance party you had just seen yourself witness.

"Hello my babies", You smiled at your cats already purring on your leg right when you got through the door.

Oh how I wished cats could talk, you wished silently in your mind before setting all your shopping bags on the dining table.

You walked towards Max sim room hearing the faint screaming of him.

You open the door peeking your head out a little but leaving enough room for Jimmy and Sassy to come through to see their cat dad.

Max heard the door open, seeing you peaking behind the door, "Hi liefje", he said motioning you to come in.

"Hi Maxie", you say rather shyly hearing the other f1 drivers Max was gaming with.

"Hey guys, I'm gonna log off, see you tomorrow", Max said quickly before signing off not waiting for their replies.

Max stood from the chair before wrapping his arms around your waist, giving you a peck on your lips.

"How was shopping, Liefje", Max smiled teasingly.

You rolled your eyes at his snide remark before answering "It was fine, Maxie", you shrugged with a smile appearing on your lips.

"That's good, I hope you like my gift", Max replied walking out of the room with their cats in tow following wherever their mother goes.

"you know what song I was listening to on the way here", you said excitedly already humming the lyrics.

"Oh how could I ever guess what song you are listening to", Max said pretending to think before sitting on the couch in concentration.

"it was 'Money, money, money', by ABBA", you repeated in excitement sitting next to Max singing some of the lyrics.

"How could I guess, it's not like you don't sing that song 24/7, I can even hear it in my dreams", Max said pretending to shudder as if he was scared"

"sounds like a nice dream to me", you said not missing the way Max rolled his eyes at your antics.

"Of course, Liefje", Max said turning on the TV hoping to stop you from singing the ABBA song but to no avail since you already started singing the lyrics as loud as possible, with the cats joining in your dancing.

I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay Ain't it sad? And still, there never seems to be a single penny left for me That's too bad

In my dreams, I have a plan If I got me a wealthy man I wouldn't have to work at all I'd fool around and have a ball

Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world Money, money, money Always sunny In the rich man's world A-ha, ah All the things I could do If I had a little money It's a rich man's world

A man like that is hard to find, but I can't get him off my mind Ain't it sad? And if he happens to be free, I bet he wouldn't fancy me That's too bad

So I must leave, I'll have to go To Las Vegas or Monaco And win a fortune in a game My life will never be the same

Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world Money, money, money Always sunny In the rich man's world A-ha, ah All the things I could do If I had a little money It's a rich man’s world

Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world Money, money, money Always sunny In the rich man's world A-ha, ah All the things I could do If I had a little money It's a rich man's world

It's a rich man's world

Masterlist

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magalhaessims · 2 months

Text

OXXO CONVENIENCE STORE - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

NOT CC FREE

Lot Type: Retail

Size: 30x20

World: Ciudad Enamorada

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

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

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

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

Felixandre: Colonial (2022) | Paris | Soho || Harrie: Brutalist || House of Harlix: Harlux | Jardane || KKB-MM: Re-routine Set || LittleDica: Greasy Goods | Rise&Grind Cafe || Max20: Garage And Storage

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

HOW TO MAKE THIS LOT FUNCTIONAL:

For the Convenience Store, I’m incorporating both the Shop Chef Consumables Mod by @ravasheencc and the Grocery Bags by @aroundthesims, enabling your Sims to purchase food items within the store.

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

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

Thank you for reblogging: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds and anyone else for helping me boost this post!

Credit: @valiasims @felixandresims @pierisim @kkbsmm @harrie-cc @littledica @syboubou @aroundthesims @charlypancakes @budgie2budgie @maxsus @simkoos @imfromsixam @tudtuds

#the sims 4 #ts4 maxis match #ts4 cc build #ts4 build #ts4 speed build #ts4 community lot #ts4 retail #ts4 ciudad enamorada #ts4 convenience store #build #download

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cressidagrey · 3 months

Text

Unprecedented

Summary:

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

What if… Azriel actually takes Rhys at his word? And does exactly what his High Lord ordered? With unexpected consequences.

This is Azriel finding out about said unexpected consequences.

Warnings:

Mention of Sex Work, Unexpected Pregnancy, Mention of Faerie Genocide, Mention of Faerie Wings being used as leather, Mention of Sex

Note:

This was a thought experiment that kinda started to grow a life on its own.

(super pretty divider by @saradika-graphics)

“I am pregnant.”

These were the last words Azriel expected to leave her mouth.

And Azriel had heard her say a lot of different things over the last few months. A whole lot of different things.

He could just stare at her.

Her being…Blossom. He knew that that wasn’t her real name. But it was the name she went by in Marge’s Pleasure Hall…while at work.

Blossom.

He had never pushed deep enough to figure out the name that she was born with.

There was an enchantment on these pleasure houses in Velaris. Whatever happened inside, stayed inside.

No customer would be able to talk about it outside, would be able to annoy any of the males and females working there outside of their place of employment.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

His mind running.

There was just one reason why she would even tell him. Why she wouldn’t just…have Marge, the proprietress tell him that she wasn’t available for their long-standing appointment.

Ever since Solstice, ever since Rhys had spat these words at him…Azriel had come here. Followed his High Lord's order to the fucking letter.

He had been furious immediately after it had happened but quickly it had melted away. Been replaced with old hurt and open wounds, something that had scabbed over and been reopened again and again.

So then he had come here. His request had been simple. Any female that was not terrified of him.

And Blossom…Blossom had been the one who had taken his hand and pulled him into her room upstairs.

And when she had lifted the glamour that laid over her, that hid away blush hair and shimmering wings he could Just stare at her.

An enchantress had done it for her. Hidden away a glamour in a bracelet she could wear. Making her hair blonde and her eyes blue and hiding the dragonfly wings that sprouted from her back.

A Floresco Fairy from the spring court. So rare that it was pretty much legendary.

They had been hunted to extinction. For their wings.

Which were used as leather to make evening bags and shoes. It had been all the rage in spring court. Alone the thought of it…it turned his stomach. Staring at these wings that she kept glamoured away with the help of a bracelet…and knowing that her family had been slaughtered for the same.

She never talked about it, about how exactly she had come to Velaris, how she came to work at Marge’s…what had resulted in her being a whore and not…something else.

Still, he couldn’t help but stare at these shimmering wings.

Ethereal beauty.

He hadn’t fucked her that first evening. Or the week after or the week after that.

He had let her bathe him because sometimes the only thing he wanted was the touch of another person. Another person that slid in his lap in the bathtub and brushed kissed to his cheek and slid her soft hands over her skin and…

Cauldron.

Every visit to Blossom had been worth every gold coin he spent on her. Every clipped copper.

She became his sanity.

Regardless of what else happened…Thursday evenings were theirs.

Once a week he came. Once a week he visited her.

“Do you know who the father is?” He choked out.

He wasn’t taking a tonic. It had never even crossed his mind.

It should have.

It should have crossed his mind, especially after everything that had happened with Feyre and Nyx. The risk that Blossom was under right at this moment…

But then he stared at the wings that were slumped on the bed and he swallowed.

She wasn’t High Fae. She was a Floresco Fairy. She had wings herself. Maybe that would keep her safe from any kind of complications involving his wings. There was to hope for that.

He took a deep breath, smelling her. Smelling the scent of roses that had always clung to her, now budding with something else.

The baby.

And intermixed in that…cedars. His own scent.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, shining in a spectrum of colours he never quite could get his fingers on.

“Do you want to know?” Blossom asked him, cocking her head to the side. “I’ll let Marge know to give you back the money for today and you can walk out and forget I even existed.”

He didn’t doubt for one moment that she would.

She would do that. And he could keep on living his life and forget that this interlude had ever happened. That he had ever gone to a brothel and bedded this female with her glittering wings for months. That he had used her for his own pleasure for money.

That he…that they had created a child together.

She would let him go and the child, the baby, would grow up a bastard. Just like him. Just like Cassian.

And that…that was fucking unacceptable.

“You really think I would do that?” He asked her, his voice hoarse, still standing in front of the door. She was seated on that bed, wearing a cream-coloured silken dressing gown. Her wings drooping around her.

“I think that neither of us planned on this,” Blossom answered quietly. “And only because I want to keep my baby…” she shrugged. “I made that choice. You didn’t,” she pointed out. Reasonable. Always so reasonable.

He couldn’t help but stare at her, sitting on the bed, the picture of innocence, with her doll-like features. She was tiny and her features were soft and sweet. Always so sweet.

It was the reason why more than one customer had gotten rough with her. Marge was very good at getting them out before it happened but Azriel had still seen more than a few bruises on her over the last year.

“It’s mine,” he said instead and she just nodded, tugging at one ringlet of hair.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said once again. “I’ll get a new job…I figure something out.”

He was sure that she would.

She could do it alone.

She didn’t need him.

But…

“And if I…if I want…” he started, the words broken.

What if…What if he could have her? Not just for these few stolen hours every Thursday evening…if he could have her…every day. If she wouldn’t have her walls up as she had in there, wit he could get to knot the female that giggled at his jokes and grinned at him and let him kiss her and always smelled delighted about it…

If he could have her look at him with…

“What do you want?” She asked him softly. Never pushing. Always giving him the opportunity to give as much as he wanted to.

“You,” he blurted out, feeling like a young and untried boy. Her. “You and the baby.”

He wanted that baby. He really wanted that baby.

Children had always been something that he had pushed away into the back of his mind. Something that…

Something that he didn’t think he ever would be able to have to be completely honest.

But now he could. And he was going to do his damnest not to end like his fucking father.

His child was not going to spend a single second in a cell under a keep. Or hurt by his half-siblings.

He was going to take care of his child.

And of the mother of his child.

“As?” Blossom asked, her voice sounding doubtful.

He could understand that. Only because they got along well in this room…where he was the customer and she was in charge of providing him with the “entertainment” he paid for… didn’t mean that they would work outside of it.

But Azriel was going to do his damnest to try.

“My family,” he told her calmly. His family.

She nearly flinched at the word. And then she sighed. “How do you even want this to look like, Azriel? I am a whore,” she pointed out drily. “And that’s all I’ll ever be.”

“You could be something else

You could be my wife. The mother of my child,” he shot back.

She stared at him wide-eyed, but he didn’t care. He would marry her that day if that was what she needed to trust him.

Marry her and give her full access to his accounts so that she and their baby would be taken care of. There was a pretty penny in there after all. It wasn’t like he had ever actually spent much of the money that Rhys gave him for his job. Unless one counted his weekly interlude with her.

She hesitated, and he knew why. Knew that she didn’t want to put herself in a vulnerable position.

“I am not…I don’t want to put you at my mercy,” he struggled to find the right words. “I want to do this together with you. I want to be with you. Without the constraints of this room,” he hurried to explain. “I don’t want to control you. Or to hurt you. Or…do anything to you that you do not want.”

She still mustered him.

“You could do whatever you want, be whatever you want…just not this job. Anything but this,” he tried to explain to her. “I’ll be yours. Just as you’ll be mine.”

He was laying himself bare like that, forcing out these words, but then, slowly a small smile began to brighten her face and she held out a hand for him.

Small, perfect pale skin, manicured fingernails…so pretty and so delicate. All of her was oh so delicate.

But he crossed the room and reached for her hand and kneeled down before her, breathing in the scent of her and their baby as she reached out to gently brush his hair out of his face.

“Are you sure?” She asked then, hesitantly, but he could hear something blubber under the surface.

“I am sure,” he agreed with her. “Though we’ll need to figure out a housing situation. This isn’t really a space for a baby. And neither is my apartment,” he told her.

“I am not picky,” she assured him and he looked at her, and then pointedly around the room that was luxuriously appointed. Blossom just shrugged.

“Tools of the Trade,” she told him drily. “I swear I am not picky. Maybe we could find some small apartment or something…with a garden?”

Floresco Fairie. Of course.

He could work with that.

“What’s your real name?” He asked suddenly, still holding her hand and she grimaced.

“Is Blossom that obviously fake?” She asked him and he just snorted. “It’s Embelia,” she answered him.

Embelia.

“My family used to call me Emmie,” she whispered, and that was all he needed to hear before he kissed her, gently, softly, exploring.

#the unexpected series #acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #my writing #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction

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goaways-stuff · 9 months

Text

Sunshine's Baked Goods

Tim Bradford x gn!baker!reader

Summary: Long shifts rarely end in such wonderful things

Rating: PG, but I'm an 18+ page

Warnings: none! fluff. No physical descriptions of reader, just that they like pink.

a/n: requested! To the person who requested, I'm so sorry, tumblr deleted my og post & I lost the request & user. Please comment & I'll tag you!! Briefly looked over, but not Beta'd

It was the morning after a long night shift, and all Tim wanted to do was go home and crash on the closest soft surface, but his stomach was ravenous for a bite to eat first. He tried to ignore it as he packed his stuff to go home, though he knew he would need something.

It was still pretty early, the sun had barely risen, and not many places were open yet as he drove around, looking for something to eat. His stomach rumbled as he finally saw an open sign lit up. A small bakery right outside of town. His eyes were heavy as he stepped out, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet scent of fresh baked goods and…coffee? Oh, he had hit the jackpot. Definitely not his normal post shift snack choice, with the pink decor looking like a barbie puked on it, but it was open, and it smelled good.

The store was barren as he stepped in, the only sound was the little bell attached to the door, alerting you that a customer had come in. You furrowed your brows and looked up at the clock on the wall. Just past 6 in the morning. Yeah, you were open, but you never got customers this early. You just came in early to get a headstart on baking and decorating cakes. You wiped your hands, though you were sure you still had frosting stains somewhere on your body as you went out to the front with your signature customer service smile.

“Good morning, what can I-” You were awestruck by the man standing in front of the counter. Tall, muscular, a hunk of a man. “...do for you.” You finished quickly, trying not to ogle.

Tim looked over the small menu above you, seeing the variety of baked goods available. He looked in the glass, settling on a plain donut and black coffee. As you got a second look at him, you noticed the bags under his eyes and the look of exhaustion on his face and in his body.

“Do you want me to make that an espresso for you?” You asked as you rang him up.

“Not this time, thanks. ‘Bout to head home and crash.” He chuckled, the small smile lighting up the whole room, causing your heart to speed up.

“Professionalism!” You reminded yourself as you nodded, ringing in the coffee as a water. It was your business, after all. A little discount for a nice customer every once in a while is just good customer service.

You turned around, pouring a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and making sure to grab the best-looking donut.

Tim swore to himself he saw you glancing at him. He tried to convince himself that he was just tired, and the attractive person behind the counter was just being polite. He couldn't help but glance back as he watched you make the coffee. And when he finally took the first sip, he swore you had to have put something extra in there. Perfectly brewed, smooth, not too bitter. The donut was soft and melted in his mouth. He thanked you and went on his way, sure that he was just so sleep deprived that he was imagining things. Imagining a connection.

But that didn't stop him from coming back. It became a regular thing after, especially long shifts. You always greeted him with a smile, but he swore again that there was an extra sparkle that wasn't there with other customers. The hot, grumpy man is what he became to you. All your employees made sure to get you when he came around. Though he was never rude, just quiet and to the point.

You always made sure he had the freshest brew of coffee and the best donut, even if that meant going to the back to the warmer to get one. His order was so simple, yet perfection every single time.

It was another late night, and you were getting ready to close shop when he came in. You smiled. It was easy to get annoyed when customers came in so close to closing, but you didn't care for him. He looked especially tired, so you brewed him a fresh coffee since you had already discarded the batch that had been sitting for a while. You took care to warm the donut up as something in your body pulled you to take a risk. As he sat down, you wrote your number down on the receipt, at the very bottom. You had to take a chance at some point.

You handed him his food. He always stayed to eat, though it never took him more than ten minutes. You went to the back to finish closing, not wanting to admit to yourself that you were too much of a coward to face him. He left as normal, and you were a little disheartened. Maybe he just didn't see it yet, you told yourself. Or maybe he's taken. Or maybe he just doesn't like you. You tried to calm your spiraling thoughts as you closed, turning off the pink neon open sign.

You tried not to, but you checked your phone far too often that night, hoping for a text. It wasn't until the next afternoon when you got a text from a new number. You were over the moon, clutching the phone to your chest as your life played out like a movie. The chat ended with a date at a higher end restaurant across town that weekend. It was all you could think about that week. You hummed love songs and made more couple's themed cakes than normal.

Even at the station, Tim's coworkers noticed his good mood. A little less harsh on all the “Tim Tests,” a little less snappy with his orders. It was the talk between all of his coworkers.

Date night came, and you scrambled to pit yourself together. Everything about you had to be perfect. Pink accents complimented your outfit. He was even coming to pick you up like a true gentleman, a bouquet of pink roses in hand. So he picked up on that.

You gracefully took his arm as he led you to his car, his hand right above your knee the whole way. Protective but gentle, not wanting to push any boundaries. He smiled the whole time, more than you had ever seen him before.

And, of course, the night went great, starting off with the essentials of getting to know each other, but diving a little deeper into what the both of you are looking for in a relationship. He had you giddy the whole night, drowning you in compliments, giving a pink flush to your face. You were no stranger to the flirtations either, compliments flowing about his suit, his freshly cut hair, and how it enhanced his sharp features.

Your heart fluttered from the butterflies flying in your stomach the whole night, and a longing for more had already set in before the night had ended. He drove you home, walking you to your door step.

“So, next Friday?” He smiled, wanting to hear the reassurance for the next date.

“Yep.” You responded, hearts for eyes. He looked at you, his eyes soft, flashing to your lips, plush and strawberry tinted. It aas a moment of silence, but not the awkward kind. It was filled with tension, begging for one of you to break it. Ultimately, he brought a hand to your face, rough and calloused with a gentle touch, bring you to him as he connected his lips to yours. For such a brooding guy, his lips were soft as ever, lovingly exploring yours. You hands wrapped around his neck as his other hand made it to your waist. It lasted forever but not long enough as you had to pull away for a breath of hair. He followed up with a small peck to the lips and a confident smile.

“I'll see you then,” He said, though you both knew he'd be coming to the shop before then.

#tim bradford #the rookie #eric winter #tim bradford x reader #the rookie x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fanfic #the rookie fanfic #the rookie fic #gender neutral imagine #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine

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fernandopiastri28 · 5 months

Text

stop to smell the flowers ❀ - oscar piastri

Oscar is so incredulously smitten for his girlfriend to the point he doesn't even know how to express it with words- so he does it through actions and gifts. ~ (self indulgent and SO short)

“Baby?” A soft echo of his voice vibrated through the eerily quiet apartment, not a single noise besides his shoes scuffling against the carpet. Oscar set down his bag on the kitchen counter, toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the side.

He waited again for a response from his girlfriend- but to no avail. He raised his voice slightly higher this time, moving closer towards the shut door of their bedroom. Keeping his noise down, Oscar pressed down on the handle of the door, attempting to keep the screeching creak to a minimum so as to disturb her, or wake her if she was currently sleeping.

To his unsurprise, his girlfriend was curled up in bed, her head resting at the very bottom of her pillow. Her bottom lip was puffed out over the top one, lashes sweeping over the tops of her cheeks. The quiet whistle of breathing filled the room, cutting through the silence from a lack of a fan going in the background.

She had her arms wrapped around a teddy bear, pressed into her chest. It was a small fluffy koala, adorned in a custom made McLaren jersey, a black 81 printed on the back. She’d named it Oscar, the teddy she held close to her each night when he was away.

The real Oscar was returning home to Australia and home to his girlfriend after the Miami grand prix, almost a whole month passing since he’d seen her last on the night after the Japanese grand prix, when he’d brought her to the airport to go back to Melbourne, then flying off to China himself.

Due to her being in her last year of university, her availability to go to every race- or even just most- was limited. She came when she could, but it was more often than not that she was at home, cheering him on from the comfort of her own bed or the couch. They'd gotten semi used to the unfortunately forced long distance relationship they now had, but it didn't make it any bit easier each time they had to part. At times, it felt as if each time he had to leave was just more difficult then the last.

She wasn’t expecting him to come back so soon, and nor did he. He fully thought his flight would be the following day and he got comfortable with the idea of a cosy night at the hotel- maybe a call to her and a movie. It wasn’t until Mark had offered the option for him to fly home just a mere four hours after the race ended- he didn’t waste a minute packing his suitcase back up and boarding the flight.

Oscar peeled back the covers on his side of the bed, making sure as to not disturb her in the process. He slid his shirt off over his head, opening up the closet door to find his favourite shirt. Even after a few minutes of searching both the hangers and the drawers without a sight of it, he looked over at his shoulder, smirking when he saw that it was the shirt his girlfriend had chosen for bed today.

Oscar settled for just a plain white top, his ‘OP’ logo imprinted over the left breast. He unbuttoned his blue jeans, allowing them to pool around his ankles until he stepped out, tossing them into the laundry basket. Now dressed in only his boxers and a far more comfortable shirt then the previous ever so itchy team polo shirt, he climbed into bed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he breathed in the sweet, floral shampoo that filled his senses. It was his favourite smell- it smelt of home. He nuzzled further into her neck, pressing a few chaste, open mouth kisses to her soft skin.

Holding back from any serious marking, Oscar mouthed at her shoulder, dragging his tongue gently over the fabric on her shoulder, letting his teeth rub against it. “I missed you, beautiful,” He whispered, kissing up along her neck.

She whined, unconsciously twisting around in the bed to be facing toward him. He took the opportunity to press a few consecutive kisses to her lips, enough to settle the desperation for contact that bubbled hot in his stomach.

Her eyes fluttered, looking as if they would open. “Hi princess,” He tucked some of her hair back behind her ear, nuzzling back into said spot to re-immerse himself in the flowery scent.

“Osccc,” Her voice was thick and groggy with sleep, her eyes open by mere slits in order to block out as much light as possible. “You’re back!” She mumbled with as much enthusiasm as possible while still being mostly asleep.

“Mhmm,” A grin splayed across his mouth, burying his face further into the crook of her neck. “You smell so good,” He kissed the junction of her shoulder, leaving his lips there for a few more seconds.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be back so soon? I would’ve stayed up,” She cupped his face in her hands, her fingers temperate against his chilly and rosy cheeks. Oscar gave a weak shrug, ignoring the question in lieu for kissing her more to warm himself up.

“It’s okay- I like this,” Oscar mumbled against her bottom lip, kissing her again and again until his jaw physically ached. “I got you a present,”

She tilted her head back, her left hand still positioned on his jaw- her thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Oh really?” She whispered, giggling as he met her question with a dopey grin.

“In the kitchen,” He rolled away from her, stumbling awkwardly back out of the bed. “C’mon, I promise it’s worth getting out of bed for,” He reassured her when he saw the displeased and unconvinced look on her face.

Begrudgingly, she followed suit- stumbling out of the bedroom door while wiping sleep from her eyes. She clung to Oscar, wrapping both of her arms around one of his, as the bottom of her sweatpants dragged along the wooden floorboard.

“It’s like a welcome home present, but for you- not me,” He handed her a bouquet of an assortment of orange flowers- begonias, marigolds, tulips, poppies. Anything that matched the same papaya colour that she wore across her torso.

Her heart pounded at the gesture, looking up at Oscar with the most fond expression. “Thank you, Oz,” She wrapped one of her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as her other hand worked on holding the bundle of flowers. “Thank you so much, I love them,” She couldn’t help the smile that stretched from one ear to the other on her face, her body alight with elation.

“Of course, baby,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing her back with the hand that held her just as tight as she was holding him. “I think you deserved it with how you’ve been working,”

She scoffed slightly, looking up at him with an incredulous expression. “Me working hard? What about you, Mr ‘Four Podiums in Your Second Year in Formula one?’,”

Oscar gave another mindless shrug, laughing at her comment, “What, like it’s hard?” He teased.

#oscar piastri x original character #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #fluff #f1 x reader #f1 2024 #formula one #formula1 #mclaren #mclaren f1

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littlemssam · 8 days

Text

New Mods & Mod Updates

As always delete old Mods Files and the localthumbcache, when updating my Mods!

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New small Mod & new Bug Fix

Small Lactose Intolerant Overhaul This small Mod edits the Plant Milk so it is useable for more Recipes, and it changes how Sims with the Lactose Intolerant Trait react to Food a bit.

Vampire Run Fix This Mod fixes Vampires not using the Vampiric Run, and played Vampires changing their preferred Walkstyle, when switching Households.

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Mod Updates

Foster Family Various Tweaks:

Increased the Duration potential Adoptives are visiting from 4 to 8 hrs.

Added Greeting Status to potential Adoptives, so you won't have to invite them in. They will more likely come in and interact with Foster Kids/Pets now.

Added a Send Home Interaction to potential Adoptives, since they now stay longer. This way you can send them Home with one Click.

Adopted Foster Kids will get the Son/Daughter Relationship added now and should show up in the Family Tree.

Mod Setting Option via Phone is only available, when a Sim has registered for the Foster Family Network.

Added new Cheat Menu (Shift Click) to Sims (Sims who registered for the Foster Family Network), where you can trigger the Foster Family Network Notifications to get Foster Kids/Pets.

Added new Cheat Menu (Shift Click) to all Kids/Pets ingame, where you can add already existing Kids/Pets in the World to become your Foster Kid/Pet.

Fixed an Issue with Foster Family Network Notifications for Cats, when you did not enable all Ages for them.

Vampire Powers | “Be able to eat Human Food”, “Enable own Mirror Reflection”, “Stop Hissing” and more Addon NPC Disable Special Walkstyle removes hidden Walkstyle Traits only from never played NPCs.

No Auto Food Grab after Cooking Fixed a small Issue with the Icon on the custom Get Leftover Interaction not showing up, when Choose Leftover is not installed.

Sul Sul Weather App Added Support for Ciudad Enamorada. Reworked Icons a bit. Script File is obsolete now. Pls remove.

Send Sims to Bed Added Support for Sleeping Bags

Social Activities (Visit Friends, Family and more) Fixed an Issue, where the Interactions got cancelled, when your Sim was on a Business Lot they own.

Random Small Mod Updates

Auto Brush Teeth Reworked Mod to make it compatible with EA's Bathroom/Kitchen Settings for Sinks. The Addon File "DisabledBrushTeethSinksWillAllowWashDishesOnly.ts4script" is obsolete because of that now, pls remove that File. I did keep my own "Allow/Disallow Brush Teeth" Options though, which you can still set via Cheat Debug Menu (Shift Click) in case the EA Settings don't work well for you. When you don't use EA's Settings or my Mod Settings, Sims will be allowed to use all Sinks however they like. The Addon "AfterEatingToo.ts4script" is changed to be compatible with the XML Injector now, and is changed into a Package File. Remove the Script File pls.

Auto Use Picnic Table when Eating Added Support for two new Picnic Tables from Lovestruck and Growing Together. Added an extra Addon File for "Umbrella Tables" from Base Game and various Packs.

Claim All The Things Added "Frying Pan", "Collectible Other/Treasure Map", "Canvas", and "SackLunch" to be supported

Prefer Leftover Added Addon for Bread to be blocked from autonomously Eating/Grabbing a Plate.

Release all Ghosts & Get Urn for Added the Interactions to Mailboxes (Shift Click), so you don't need to get Urns via Debug etc first.

Craft More Nectar Bottles and more When Crafting 5 Bottles, the Dynamic Skill loot for Nectar Making is multiplied by 1,5.

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Translations

Advanced Birth Certificate - Update of Dutch by Willowtree My Pets - Update of Dutch by Willowtree Online Learning System - Added Finnish by MaijaEllen

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My Site with all possible Download Links: lms-mods.com

Support Questions via Discord only please!

#littlemssam #sims 4 mods #updates

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powdermelonkeg · 1 year

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Cheat Code #4 for accommodating disabled characters in sci-fi/fantasy:

If you want to show a character's personality in the aids they use, you need to add customization, accessories, and/or specializations.

i.e.: You'll have a more three-dimensional character design if you take the time to consider what you can make unique about an aid; it should be as much a part of your design thoughts as the clothes they wear or the hairstyle they keep, and there are several ways to go about it. For example:

Customization would be things like colors and lights. A prosthetic arm can have colored guards that slide in and latch; a rich person might have those guards gilded, while a scientist might have a whiteboard arm panel to scribble notes on, and a stage performer could have theirs painted black with a bone on it to give the appearance of a skeletal window. A visor that replaces vision could have a screen that shows expressive pixel eyes for a happy-go-lucky hacker, or a practical black shield for someone in strict uniform. ⠀ To customize: make yourself a base, then take that base and imagine what each character you apply it to would WANT it to look like; prioritize aesthetics or practicality based on their personal preference. ⠀

Accessories are add-ons to your aid, rather than part of it. A cane could have ribbons wound around it if it's used by a magical girl, or a secret compartment stopper to hide notes in for a paranoid detective. A wheelchair might come with paragliding wings that open with a pullstring for a daredevil, canvas bags full of tools for a mechanic, or hubcaps that detach and can be thrown as weapons for a soldier. ⠀ For accessories, you're not necessarily thinking of "what can I add to this aid to make it special?" The process is better defined as "what would they want to have, and how can I merge the two in a way that's easy to use?" ⠀

Specializations are sort of a deeper combination of the two above features. They're a more advanced way of making your aids stand out, down to the materials they're comprised of or their intrinsic properties, that uniquely suit your character. They're typically hard to come by without being specially made, and can't be quickly modded in. ⠀ A spine brace being made of magic, living wood that grows to fill gaps when damaged would be available to a wood elf, and probably specially given to a warrior who WOULD damage it. A wheelchair made of magic-resistant metal could have use for a battlemage that can't turn to deflect spells quickly, or a witch hunter who wants immunity from the mages they're hunting. A cane that lights up when it senses radiation would be useful to a planetary explorer or warp drive mechanic, but not to a marine xenobiologist studying the starwhale population, who instead has a whalecall whistle built into theirs. ⠀ A specialized aid takes into account not only your character's wants and needs, but also their profession, their common risks, and occasionally their class—especially if you're using rare materials.

When you want to design an aid to be unique to your character, go through this checklist:

What do they want it to look like?

What would they want to add to it, and how do I make it convenient?

What would their setting offer them for their job or status?

What modifications would they have to seek out themselves, and would/could they?

Ask yourself these, and you're well on your way to making your disabled characters as varied as your abled ones.

Cheat code 1: How to avoid eliminating disability in your setting

Cheat Code 2: What kinds of aid to use to accommodate disability

Cheat Code 3: How to make your setting itself disability-friendly

#disability #writeblr #long post

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utopya-cc · 2 months

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youtube

(Preview) Functional Handbag | Gameplay Mod

Check Patreon posts for Better Preview gifs Quality,

Hey everybody, I hope you are all fine and doing well. The mod is finally done, and I am super happy with how it turned out!

It has taken a lot of time, but I think that it was worth it, and I do think that it is my new favorite (I know that each time I make a new mod, I say it😂), but I am really proud of it and excited to share it with all of you,

So, where should we start? The mod is called Functional Handbag. It will be all about adding quality-of-life interactions to the bag that will help in youre sim's everyday life,

The bag is now Fully animated. Everything about it is animated: the zipper, the button pin, and everything has its own custom sound,

Get Ready Interactions:

Let's start with what you have seen in the preview videos: the "Get Ready" interaction that you can use on mirrors. This interaction will allow your sims to apply makeup and get ready to go out.

I want to clarify that the interaction won't make your sims wear any makeup. The in-game vanity lets you do that (and to be honest with you, I don't like it at all. The in-game makeup looks so bad), and even if I wanted to add custom makeup to it, it would always be way better to apply and chose youre makeup with cas, So I didn't think too much about it, and kept the mod focusing more on enhancing the gameplay and the outcomes of the interaction.

The get-ready Interactions can be played On all types of mirrors. It contains a lot of kinds of Makeup animations that may play randomly during the interaction for better immersion; each animation will have its own animated object that youre sim will pull directly from their Handbag.

To see the interactions, your sims should have a Designer bag in their inventory. Then, you will find a new pie menu in all the mirrors: Get Ready.

You can choose inside it the occasions that you want your sim to get ready for;

Each interaction will help your gameplay differently, depending on what you plan for your sim to do, and will have different outcomes.

Sims around you will also be affected, like your romantic partner may feel flirty, and others may receive a happy or confident buff and may be fascinated by how well-maintained your sim is

As in real life, getting ready will take some time, around 40 to 50 sim minutes. But the outcome will be rewarding for your sim and others around them,

Getting ready for a date will give you a +2 flirty buff for 5 hours; the interactions will help your sims have a successful date or even help single sims have a successful romantic encounter.While the buff is still active, it will allow your sim to Build a romantic relationship faster than usual,

Getting ready for an event will give you a +2 Confidence buff for 5 hours. This interaction will help your sims to have successful encounters with other sims.While the buff is still active, it will allow your sim to Build a Friendship relationship faster than usual,

Getting ready for your day will give you a +2 Happy buff for 5 hours. This is more of an everyday interaction; it won't help in building friendships or romantic relations,but it will help with negative emotions. Negative Buffs won't affect your sims that much, and some of them will decay way faster,It's quicker to apply. Your sim will be done getting ready much faster than the others.

While the "Get ready for date and event" are great for building relationships, "Get ready for the day" Will work great to build skills or tasks or just random chores in general,

"How do I look?" Interactions:

New romantic interactions will be available after getting ready. How do I look? It will only be available for sims that have more than 60 in romance,

I added this feature much later, so I didn't have much time to create a new animation for it, so I just used some in-game ones. I think that I have mixed two or three animations together to achieve the question, the compliments, and the reactions afterward.

This interaction may be played autonomously; it has some cute comments and flirty emotions for both the target and the actor,

Maintain Appearance:

There will be a "Maintain appearance" interaction after using the get-ready one. This one will be available directly in your bag, and your sim will only use the hand mirror instead of the big mirror, so it can be used anywhere you want. But you can't choose what occasion with it,

it will carry what you already Have Chosen with the mirror, and it will not be available unless you have used the get ready on the mirror one,

This one works as maintaining the makeup. Or a quick refresh: it has its own outcomes, and they will also carry the same benefits as the original ones, so it can help to extend the Buffs if youre sims haven't finished their date yet or the event isn't over,

so, if the buff runs out and you still want the same benefits, this interaction will come in handy since it's way quicker than the big ones,

Inside The Bag Interactions:

As I said in the beginning, this is a gameplay mod that will serve to help out youre sim in their everyday life while keeping it realistic enough to be more immersive and fun to use,

First off, there is a whole new pie menu Called "Inside the Bag" on the designer bag itself in your sim inventory.

It will have a lot of new interactions That will help significantly with your sim needs, but their uses are limited by time, so you cannot spam them. They will be missing after using them and will be available again after their buffs have run out,

Those are gameplay interactions that will help youre sim on their daily basis. Each new interaction will help to fill different needs:

All the interactions have Their own animations with their animated object and their own custom sounds,

To check the preview of their animations and learn more about what they do, check the Patreon post!

#sims 4 #sims 4 cc #ts4 #youtube #the sims 4 #sims4 animation #sims4 mods #animation #the sims mods #mods #Youtube

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ckret2 · 10 months

Text

Chapter 28 of human Bill is determined to wiggle out of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner, featuring:

Bill eagerly accepts an invitation to Gravity Falls' LGBTQ club. He is not allowed to go unsupervised. Stan (whose masculinity isn't secure enough for this), Ford (who's still hanging out in the closet), and Soos (who's engaged) aren't quite sure what to do. Luckily, Wendy's been looking for an excuse to go.

####

Melody rushed up to the cash register and said breathlessly, "Hey Wendy—I know it's almost your break, but could you stay on register just a little longer? Two of the baby dragons escaped and Soos and I have to find them before the next tour."

Wendy looked at the customers milling about the gift shop. They'd all just gotten out of a tour and were looking over the available souvenirs, which meant in just a few minutes they'd all be lining up to check out. "Ooh, I dunno. I'm pretty hungry..."

"Please, Wendy? You can take an extended lunch!"

Was that worth handling one extra post-tour rush? "Wiiith p—?"

"With pay, you extortionist." There was no real resentment in Melody's voice. She'd worked register duty. She understood.

"Okay, deal."

"Wendy you're a lifesaver." Melody hurried to the curtains to the Mystery Shack museum.

"Hey," Wendy called, "which ones escaped?"

"Orochi and Ryuu."

"Aww, not Oro. That sweet guy will get eaten alive in the real world."

"Right?" Melody turned on her phone flashlight and returned to the hunt.

A deeply tanned tourist with sun-damaged wrinkles approached the cash register. She wasn't holding any souvenirs. Wendy said, "Hey, how can I help you?"

She looked straight in Wendy's eyes and said, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

Wendy stared at her. Why did this place attract the weirdest customers. "What?"

Very clearly, the tourist repeated, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Um. If that's some kind of reference, I don't get it."

The tourist let out that sharp little nose-sigh soccer moms made when Wendy did things like refuse to take a coupon meant for a rival tourist trap, shook her head in disappointment, and left.

Wendy got the feeling she was going to regret staying on register.

Sure enough, within five minutes, the line started forming—and on top of that, Wendy discovered, the cash register drawer had jammed shut, preventing her from making change for the customers paying in cash. She was in the middle of explaining to the fourth increasingly irate child-toting customer that he either had to pay by card or in exact change, when two more customers came in the door and made a beeline for the register.

"Wendy Corduroy?"

"Hey," Wendy said tersely, stuffing a customer's t-shirts in a bag. "There's a line."

"We're not shopping, Miss Corduroy."

Wendy turned to face Sheriff Blubs, with Deputy Durland standing close behind him. The scratch cards. Her fake ID. She was going to jail. Dad was gonna find out about her tattoo. "Oh."

Durland said, "Could we ask you some questions?"

"Uhh..." She looked at the cops, and then at the growing line of customers. "Can I... grab someone to cover?"

####

Bill had been sitting at the kitchen table looking at the doorway, waiting for Wendy to appear for several minutes, when he heard her muttering, "Shoot, shoot, shoot..." from the living room. Here she came.

"Hey, Cool Girl. What's the hurry?"

"Goldie!" Wendy turned toward the kitchen. "Have you seen Dipper or Mabel? The cops wanna talk to me—"

Bill's eyebrows shot up.

"—and the register is insane and I need someone to cover—"

"They're both out today," Bill said. Mabel was over at Pacifica's alpaca ranch to help out for the day—but Bill had the sinking suspicion she'd asked to go help so she could avoid him. No clue where the other one had gone. "Sorry!"

Wendy groaned. Then looked at Bill. "Hey. Have you ever manned a cash register before?"

"Yes," Bill lied.

####

"Thank you so much," Wendy said, holding open the "Employees Only" door for someone Blubs and Durland didn't recognize: a woman with no makeup, no bra, and unshaven legs, wearing an eyepatch, a hideous Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and yellow foam clogs. Durland looked her up and down, elbowed Blubs, and muttered, "Hey Daryl. D'you think...?"

"Mm." He shrugged noncommittally.

The stranger took Wendy's place behind the register with an eager grin and called out, "Okay, let's keep the line moving!"

Wendy approached Blubs and Durland. "Thanks for that," she said. "So... what can I help you with?"

"Just a few questions about your weekend," Blubs said. "Where were you last Sunday?"

Wendy blinked in surprise. "On... Sunday?" She paused a moment, lips pursed as she thought back to the weekend. "I visited Shop Thrifty with some friends."

Blubs nodded, like this confirmed what he already knew. "And what were you doing there?"

"Shopping? I got some gift money I wanted to spend on cheap junk."

"What'd you get?"

Wendy furrowed her brows, but said, "Uh... some terrible horror movies, a doll that looks like a cross between a turtle and a teddy bear, and a clock made out of a hubcap?"

"So you didn't go near the men's clothing section?"

Wendy squinted. "Nooo?"

Blubs scribbled that down in his notepad. "About what time did you leave the store?"

"I dunno, probably like three or four?"

"Did you go back to the store later?"

"No? I went home and was there all night, you can ask my family," Wendy said. "What happened at Shop Thrifty?"

"A-ha!" Durland pointed over Blubs's shoulder. "How did you know something happened at Shop Thrifty?"

"Because you're cops and you're asking questions about it."

"Oh."

Blubs patted Durland's shoulder. "Keep trying, darlin'. You're becoming a better detective by the day." Durland beamed.

To Wendy, Blubs said, "But as it happens, we're investigating a burglary." He flipped through the pages of his notepad. "I don't suppose you saw any suspicious figures while you were shopping, did you? Perhaps hanging around... the men's section?" He pulled out a crime scene photo to show Wendy.

Wendy had to stare at the photo a moment to make sense of the empty clothing rack; and then she cracked up. "Did somebody steal every pair of pants in the store?"

"Every pair of men's jeans."

"Oh, man. No, I didn't see any pants burglars hanging around—"

Durland said, "We're calling the thief the Bootcut Bootlegger."

Wendy snorted. "But uh... I guess I'll call you if I see anyone lurking in a dark alley selling jeans?"

"We'd appreciate it," Blubs said. "And, could you tell us the names of the friends you went with. So we can ask them if they saw anything too."

Wendy, who was no snitch, said, "No."

Durland shook his head sadly. "Kids these days. They don't know anything about their own friends. Not even their names."

"Nope," Wendy said. "Is that all you needed, officers?"

"I got one more question," Durland said. He leaned a bit closer to Wendy and pointed at the stranger manning the cash register. "Who's that new gal? I didn't know the shack hired somebody."

"Oh, Goldie? We didn't exactly hire anyone, he's just staying at the shack a while—"

"Ha! 'He'! I knew it!" Durland smacked Blubs's shoulder. "I told ya! Didn't I tell ya?"

"Heh. You sure did."

Durland cupped his hands around his mouth. "Whooee, you at the register!"

"Sorry, I can't make exact change, so I'll do you a favor: just round it to—" Goldie blinked and turned toward the heckling cop. "Yello?"

"You're queerer'n a three-dollar bill, aren't you?" Durland called. Wendy cringed and quickly pulled out her phone to shield herself from the scene of public humiliation.

Totally unperturbed, Goldie replied, "I'm probably the queerest bill you've ever met! Why?"

Soos wearily trudged through the curtains from the Mystery Shack's museum. "Hey, Wendy. We found Ryuu, but we still can't find..." His gaze fell on Goldie and his voice died. "Wendy? What's he doing—"

Durland walked past the line of customers to lean on the counter in front of Goldie. "Hey, how long are you in town? You oughta come to a Rainbow Club meeting!"

"It's the local LGBTQ support and social group," Blubs explained. "We meet weekly at Town Hall. We're actually meeting this evening at seven!"

"We haven't had any new members in ages," Durland said. "Please say you'll come. We're so bored!"

The more they spoke, the more a grin spread across Goldie's face. "Gentlemen, you had me at 'rainbow.' I'd be thrilled to come! My schedule's free! I've been spending all my evenings cooped up in the shack because I don't know anybody in town." He slowly turned his grin toward Soos, who was watching in slack-jawed horror. "But hey, it's not like I'm locked up in here—right, officers?"

####

When the last customers trickled out and Wendy returned to the cash register, Goldie flashed her a quick smile. "Hey, Cool Girl." He nodded toward the Museum. "I saw Questiony tug you aside, are you in trouble?"

"Nah, not really. I guess he's just bothered I grabbed a non-employee to sub instead of getting him or Melody."

"I won't call the labor board if he doesn't." Goldie handed a wad of bills to Wendy. "Here."

"Thanks." Wendy looked around for somewhere to stow it until they could get the cash register drawer unstuck. "Hey, how'd you handle the customers paying in cash?"

"Told 'em I'd give them a discount for the inconvenience: if they were willing to round up to the nearest dollar from the sticker price, we'd eat the rest of the sales tax so they didn't have to fish for loose change. Everyone was thrilled."

Wendy processed that. "Oregon doesn't have a sales tax."

"Sure, but how many out-of-state tourists in a hurry remember that?"

"Ha! You went to work for the wrong twin, Stan would've loved having you in the shack."

"The Pines just don't appreciate what I bring to the table," Goldie lamented, swooping around the counter. He walked up to the "Employees Only" door, stopped, surveyed it like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it, and then very casually made a right turn into the curtained entryway to the museum.

A minute later, Soos escorted him back, an arm around his shoulder. "Museum's closed, dude," he said sternly. "We're looking for an escaped baby dragon."

"'Baby dragon'?" Goldie echoed. "You mean a lizard with fake wings glued on its back?"

"I mean—we're not telling the tourists that, but yeah."

He pointed toward the cash register. "Like the one stuck in the cash drawer?"

There was a pause. Wendy dropped to her knees to peer at the crack at the top of the drawer. "Oro! Can you hear me, boy? Are you in there?" She heard something rustle. "Holy—Soos!"

Soos shoved Goldie into the living room and hurried over to help.

####

"Less than five minutes," Ford muttered. "He's unsupervised in a public space for less than five minutes, and he makes contact with local law enforcement and sets up a social engagement. This is why he's not allowed out of—" He pushed up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, grumbling.

Ford, Stan, and Soos were seated around the living room table, discussing how to handle the situation. With the sheriff and deputy expecting Bill, they couldn't not let him go, lest the cops come by again to ask what had happened—and the odds that they'd be satisfied by an answer from anyone but "Goldie" were slim.

"This is what he's been waiting for," Ford went on. "He's been biding his time for an opportunity exactly like this."

Soos said, "I'm sorry, Dr. Pines. It happened so fast! I wanted to go all, 'No, you can't go,' but then the cops would have gone, 'Why not?' and I didn't know how to not say he's our prisoner—"

"It's not your fault, Soos," Ford sighed. "It's not even Wendy's. She doesn't know how risky it is just to let him talk to the public."

"So, what do we do now?" Stan asked.

Soos said, "Maybe make him an 'I bite tourists' shirt?"

Ford said, "I suppose... we let him go. And one of us will have to supervise him."

Stan asked, "At the gay club?"

"At the gay club."

Stan, Ford, and Soos—two of whom had grown up in a time when "gay" was one of the worst things a person could be accused of being, and one of whom came from a very Catholic family—eyed each other uncomfortably.

From the doorway, Bill called, "Can I choose? I'm trying to decide who'd be funniest."

Without looking at him, Ford snapped, "Go away, Bill."

"Fine. I'll be upstairs." They listened for Bill's footsteps to recede up the stairs.

Stan spoke first. "Not it. No way. Absolutely not. What would the ladies think!"

Wryly, Ford said, "I doubt any ladies you might meet there would have been interested anyway."

"Well, what would the guys think! What if someone flirts with me, would I have to flirt back to maintain my cover? I'm not that good an actor. It's not gonna be me." He crossed his arms in finality, then looked at Ford expectantly.

Ford hesitated, then shook his head. "Not me." Stan cocked a brow, but when Ford didn't say anything else, he just glanced at Soos.

"Uhh." Soos tapped his fingers together. "I guess I might be kinda sorta willing? I mean, I wouldn't really mind? But, the thing is, I'm engaged, to a woman, and like, Melody would understand if I explain it's just to keep an eye on Bill. But what if people think me 'coming out' right before the wedding is because I'm cheating or—or dissatisfied or something?" His eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe Melody could come too! We could pretend to be bi. It could be like a date! Would that be weird? Two straight people at the queer club on a date pretending to be bi? It—it feels weird." His eyes un-lit up. "I think that's probably weird. It seems disrespectful. Yeah, no, maybe I shouldn't do that—?"

"Are you guys talking about Rainbow Club?"

The trio started and glanced toward the door to the gift shop, where Wendy was leaning in.

Soos said, "Yeeeah, haha, it's kinda awkward, but, Goldie wants to go, but he can't go by himself... so somebody's gotta take him... it's this whole thing..."

"Oh? How come? It's not that far a walk if you cut past the old church."

"Uhh..." Soos looked at Stan and Ford for help.

After enjoying exactly three seconds of awkward silence, Bill called from the doorway, "I'm under a curse that makes it impossible to open doors!"

"Wow dude, sucks for you!"

"Haha, I know right!"

Ford stood, slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at the doorway. "OUT!"

Bill raised his hands, rolled his eye, and left.

"So, hey," Wendy said. "Rainbow Club's for 16-year-olds and up, and I've... kinda been trying to work up the nerve to go for a while, actually. Just to, you know, explore... options?" She shrugged, grimacing self-consciously. "Maybe this is my excuse. So, if you need someone to open doors for Goldie, I could go?"

Stan, Ford, and Soos looked at Wendy with the blank surprise of two men raised in the sixties and one man raised Catholic who sometimes forgot that the categories of "queer people" and "people they knew" might overlap. Then Ford said, "You're not walking there with him."

"I can drive you," Soos said. "I'll just wait outside in the pickup. It's cool, I've got a lot of comics to catch up on."

"I don't know if it's safe letting him walk openly from the truck into Town Hall," Stan said. "Wendy, how do you feel about being handcuffed to him?"

Wendy stared at him. "What."

"That's not necessary," Ford said. "We can use the chain bracelets."

Wendy stared at him. "The what."

"Listen. Kid." Stan stood and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. "I know we gave you the abridged version of Goldie's history, but lemme make this clear: this freak's on house arrest, and if you're going out with him, you're his ankle bracelet. Do not let him out of your sight. Don't even leave him alone in the restroom if there's a window big enough for him to squeeze through."

"I think his curse covers windows," Soos pointed out. Ford nodded.

"I don't wanna risk it."

"It's okay," Wendy said. "Treat him like a dangerous criminal. Got it. I've got crazy lumberjack ninja training, I can handle him."

Stan eyed her appraisingly, then nodded. "You're all right, kid." He clapped her shoulder and let go. "And if you're into girls, that's fine by me."

"Um," Wendy said. "Thanks? I'm actually not sure if... Thanks, Stan."

"All right. We've got a plan." He waved off Soos and Wendy. "Go have fun with the gays."

####

Wendy sat in the back seat of Soos's truck, staring at her phone, trying to figure out what excuse to give her dad for staying out late. She didn't think he'd mind her going to Rainbow Club—but it wasn't a conversation she was ready to have. Finally, she texted him that she was hanging out tonight with the Mystery Shack crew—which wasn't technically totally wrong—and put her phone away.

Goldie stared out the shotgun seat window as they drove past the sombrero-shaped Los Hermanos Brothers restaurant. "Hey. Can we get nachos?"

"You'll be late to your meeting, dude."

"Can we get nachos after the meeting?"

Wendy piped up, "I'd be cool with a taco run." Easier to tell her dad she'd been having dinner at the shack.

Soos considered that. "I don't see why not." He shrugged. "Gotta get them to-go, though."

"Yeah, fine," Goldie said, a tad irritably. He slouched down, kicking his feet up on the dashboard and crossing his ankles. "I'm not plotting anything nefarious in the restaurant, I just want nachos."

"Then sure, that's cool," Soos said. "Hey. Isn't it kinda... weird for you to eat nachos?"

Goldie turned to face Soos. "Weird how?"

"I mean. You know. Considering you're..."

"Considering I'm what?" Goldie grinned. "What about me would make it weird for me to eat triangular corn chips covered in yellow cheese? C'mon, Questiony. I wanna understand."

Soos glanced toward Wendy in the back seat, and then away. "Never mind," he mumbled. Goldie laughed.

Wendy wondered what on earth Goldie could possibly be that would make it weird for him to get nachos. After a moment of deliberation, she concluded the answer was probably "lactose intolerant." She cleared her throat. "Hey, thanks for giving us a ride, Soos." Even if it probably would've been faster to walk.

"Oh yeah, no problem dude," Soos said. "Hey—aren't you sixteen now? Are you gonna get your own car sometime soon? I don't mind giving you a ride. I'm just curious. Making conversation."

Wendy groaned. "No. I haven't got my license yet, and I don't want to. As soon as I can drive, I'll be useful. Dad's gonna ask me to drive the boys around, and I'll be the friend that gives everyone else rides, right? And being a taxi sounds like crap." She paused, remembering where she was sitting. "No offense, Soos."

"None taken."

"But it's starting to stress me out. My dad keeps asking when I wanna start driver's ed. And I've started having stress nightmares about needing a car in an emergency and not having one? And then Gideon's dad swoops into the dream to offer a Reasonably-Priced Discount Used Car?"

Soos laughed. "Oh man, like all those commercials he's been running on the local stations? 'There's no need to barter—'"

Goldie and Wendy both completed the line, "'—you can drive for a quarter.'"

Wendy groaned louder. "All those annoying Gleeful Auto jingles are seeping into my dreams. How does that even make sense! I don't understand the economy, how do you sell a car for a twenty-five cent down payment and make a profit off of it? What if the customer just doesn't pay the rest?"

Thoughtfully, Soos said, "I think it has to do with interest."

"Well, I'm not interested. Especially when I'm asleep."

"I think Mabel's got a pile of books on controlling your dreams right now," Goldie said. "You could ask her about them."

"Do any of those books teach you how to install dream ad block?"

Goldie laughed. "It can't hurt to check!"

####

"Easy, there," Stan said, watching from his armchair with a can of cider as Ford paced in the entryway, back and forth past the living room. "You're gonna wear a hole in the floorboards."

Ford did not stop pacing. "I should have gone with them," he said. "What does it matter that I didn't want to. Somebody who understands what Bill really is should be in that meeting with him."

"Come on. As long as he doesn't get an opportunity to escape, how much trouble can he really get in? What do you think he's gonna do, kill the sheriff with a folding chair?"

"I'm more worried about his opportunities to network. I don't want him making friends on the outside. That's more people he can manipulate."

"Okay, sure. But how could you stop it if you were there? What would you do, scold him every time he acts nice to somebody?"

A sigh. "I suppose you're right. I just... don't like not knowing what he's doing there."

Stan took a sip from his cider; swirled it a moment; and then cleared his throat. "Hey, Ford, uhh. You know what? Crazy thing, but—I was surprised you didn't volunteer to go to the gay thing? I mean..." He unnecessarily cleared his throat again. "Ever since high school, I always kinda thought you... I mean, I assumed... not in a bad way, mind, but I just sort of figured... Well, I must've assumed wrong. So. Sorry, I guess."

Ford had stopped pacing to look at Stan. He waited for him to finish stumbling through ellipses; and then, hands stuffed in his coat pockets, he said to his feet, "You didn't assume wrong."

Stan waited. "Uh-huh?" he said encouragingly.

Ford shuffled into the living room and took the chair next to Stan. "Truthfully... I can't tell you exactly what I am. When I should have been figuring that out, I was busy writing dissertations and hiding in the woods. Exploring scientific oddities instead of—well—exploring myself. And then thirty years away from Earth, and now that I've only been back among humans for a year... well—I've never figured myself out." He shrugged ruefully. "I can tell you more about eye-bats and gnomes than I could about my own... inclinations. But whatever I am, it's not heterosexual, I know that."

"Huh." Stan nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around the idea that you could just not know. He could maybe imagine a girl not knowing—the inner workings of a woman's body were still pretty mysterious to him—but in his experience most guys had a compass between their legs that was magnetically attracted to point toward what they desired, whether they wanted it to or not. What was going on with Ford?

Looking firmly at the wall, Ford added, "For one thing, I think there's been too many aliens for me to be straight."

Stan snorted. "Aliens."

"Aliens."

"Well okay, Captain Cork—"

"Stanley, please." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Leave it to my brother to even find a way to be queer in a weird way." Stan grinned crookedly. "You know—when we were getting close to graduating, whenever we talked about treasure hunting and getting babes, somewhere in the back of my head, I was making peace with the fact that maybe you'd find a sailor instead. I was fine with it! I just wasn't expecting you to go for the kraken."

"Stan!" Ford laughed in surprise.

"What! Not your type? What does it for you, Dracula? The wolf man? Mothgar?

"I am not telling you what does it for me."

"Okay, okay, fine." Stan probably didn't wanna know, anyway. Aliens. Yeesh. But who was he to judge, he'd gone on a date with a spider lady. "Is that why you don't wanna go to that club meeting? You don't want to talk about the aliens?"

"Not exactly," Ford said. "Attending a support group for queer people would mean opening up about a private, unexplored... scary part of my own identity. With Bill in the room. Maybe I should go to some of those meetings—but not when he's there." His smile from a moment earlier was gone; his mouth was set in a grim line. "When I thought he was my friend, I—offered him far too much vulnerability that I shouldn't have. I'm not letting him have any more."

And a couple minutes ago, Ford had been beating himself up for not putting himself in that position just to keep an eye on Bill. Stan said, "And he's not gonna get more vulnerability outta you. You don't have to tell that freak anything." Rummaging through his brain for the most supportive brotherly words he could find, Stan added, "But—I'm glad you told me."

Ford nodded. "So am I."

####

When Wendy and Goldie walked into Town Hall's main assembly room, Blubs and Durland were standing at the front chatting. Durland immediately waved. "Hey! You made it! You too, Wendy?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, thought I'd check it out."

"The more, the merrier," Blubs said. He gestured for them to follow him to a door at the front of the room, to the left of the podium. "A larger group uses the meeting room, so we meet in the mayor's office."

The door to the mayor's office was clearly marked by the folding table with snacks across the hallway and a stand next to the door holding multiple flags—American, Oregonian, rainbow, trans, and "Take Back the Falls" battle flag. Wendy paused to puzzle over the eleven varieties of bread on the snack table; when she glanced at Goldie, he'd gingerly plucked up the battle flag by a corner to inspect it. There was supposed to be a ban on acknowledging Weirdmageddon, but Wendy supposed the mayor could get away with showing a little pride in his citizens' resistance movement. "Were you still in the shack during... all that?"

"Hm?"

"The big fight." Wendy lowered her voice, just in case the sheriff felt like enforcing the ban. "That's the flag we flew when we kicked the crap out of Bill's stupid pyramid butt."

"Oh. No. I was locked out of the shack," he said flatly. "Must have missed that." He let the flag drop. "I only remember the part where he kicked the shack halfway across the valley with its own leg."

Tyler Cutebiker waved from inside the office. "Wendy, hi! And a new person! Come in, come in! You're just in time. How's your dad?"

Wendy had been expecting that. "He's good, he's good. Y'know, busy."

"Uh-huh?"

"He's been swamped with work since he got the contract for the deathball arena. He's broken like eight axes, so, I think he's really happy."

"Oh, great!" Tyler beamed. "When we were deciding who to give the contract to supply lumber for the new facility, I thought, 'I know just the man to get it!' I'm so glad we could support our local lumber industry." He hesitated. "By the way, do you know if he ever... thinks about coming to a meeting? I've invited him a couple of times, maybe if you brought it up..."

"Listen. Tyler," Wendy said. "You're cool, but if my dad ever shows up at Rainbow Club, I'm never coming again."

"Okay, all right, that's fine, just thought I'd ask."

The mayor's desk had been pushed up against the office windows, and several folding chairs were set up in a tight circle that pressed to the walls. A couple extra chairs were quickly put out for Wendy and Goldie, and Goldie immediately claimed the seat on the mayor's right. All in all, there were less than a dozen attendees, and Wendy guessed she was the youngest one there by at least five years. One empty chair was left open hopefully by the door.

Once everyone was seated, Tyler said, "Okay, it looks like we've got a couple of new folks here today, so let's all go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Please share your names, your pronouns, and anything you want us to know about how you fit under our rainbow umbrella. There's no pressure, just whatever you feel comfortable with, this is a safe and supportive place for everybody. I'll go first: hi, I'm Tyler, and I use he/him pronouns!" He turned expectantly to his left.

Blubs said, "Hi, I'm Daryl, uhhh he/him, and I..." he turned to stare in Durland's eyes, "am in love."

Durland quickly said, "Hi, I'm Edwin, I'm a boy, and I'm in love too!" They grabbed each other's hands, giggling.

"Aww," Tyler cooed, "aren't you two sweet." He nodded toward the next chair.

"Hello. My name is Tad Strange, my pronouns are he/him, and I'm a cisgender heterosexual ally."

Seriously, Tyler said, "And we appreciate your support, Tad. And the snacks you bring every week."

Introductions continued around the circle. Wendy sorta knew a couple other faces, but didn't know anyone personally. The only other girls in the room were an intimidatingly beautiful woman whose gaze seemed to pass right over the awkward teen with unstyled hair and baggy flannel, and two little old ladies in a throuple with a little old man.

The introduction spotlight finally landed on her. "Hey guys. I'm Wendy, she/her, and I'm, uh... questioning, I guess? Sorta?" She shrugged casually. "Yeah. Questioning."

Tyler said, "Since this is your first time—we keep things pretty casual, here, but I want to make sure this group supports everyone's needs. Do you think you could tell us a bit about what you're looking for in our little club?"

Wendy could feel every eye in the room boring into her. She fought the urge to shrink into her seat. You're sixteen. You're the cool girl. Act cool, girl. "Oh, nothing specific I guess. I'm just... exploring my options, you know. Exploring myself. Doing the self-discovery journey or whatever. So... I dunno what I'm looking for? I figure I'll know it when I find it."

Tyler nodded. "We've all been there," he said. "And I know I speak for us all when I say we're honored to be part of your journey."

And then, to Wendy's mortification, Tyler started clapping, and the rest of the group joined in. She smiled stiffly, feeling her youth even more intensely. What the heck, Tyler, you were supposed to be the cool adult. Wendy trusted you. Politics changed you.

To Wendy's gratitude, Goldie cut the awkward moment short by piping up before the last of the applause petered out. "Hiya! I'm 'Goldie,'" he put air quotes around his own name, "I've never cared what pronouns you people call me before and I'm not about to start now, and I do not have the patience for all the paperwork to figure out my sexuality so we'll just wonder together!"

Tyler laughed. "Oh, you're funny!" A couple other attendees chuckled.

"I'm just getting started!" Goldie blinked his unpatched eye. "Wink. Anyway, I'm here to meet new people and have some fun!" He turned an intense smile on Tyler. "So tell me, mayor—where do the people in your fine town go to party?"

####

By the end of the meeting, Goldie had collected six phone numbers—"I'd give you mine, but I'm between phones right now, long story"—and four loose commitments to do something somewhere sometime soonish. Wendy was simultaneously relieved to have some of the pressure taken off of her as the new person, slightly miffed that she hadn't gotten to know anybody, and resigned to the fact that as the only high schooler in the room they probably wouldn't have had much to say to her anyway.

As the club members milled around the snack table having bread, Goldie elbowed Wendy and muttered, "I can't believe they clapped for you but not for me. Is looking for a good time not a noble enough quest?"

"Pfft. Dude, are you jealous?"

"Insanely."

Thirty years in the ghost dimension must do weird things to someone's need for attention. "When I introduce you to my friends, I'll tell them all to clap for you."

"I appreciate it."

The club loosely migrated through the assembly hall and toward the front double door. Durland reached it first, opened it, and quickly closed it. Agitated, he said, "Daryl! They're out there again."

"Oh, no! Again?"

The group came to a stop. Tyler took over, cracked open the door, and tutted his tongue. Goldie curiously peered over his shoulder, and Wendy took that as permission to look too.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of Town Hall were a dozen tough-looking men dressed in leather, heavy denim, and sharp metal accessories. They filled the sidewalk, arms crossed or fists on hips, glowering toward the doors. Tyler muttered, "Oh, every time we have a meeting. I wish they'd knock this off."

"Who're they?" Wendy asked. "Homophobes?"

"Oh! No no, nothing like that," Tyler said. "That's the weekly ex-convict rehabilitation support group—they use the bigger meeting room. They're actually a very open-minded bunch."

"That's right," shouted the tallest of the group, a muscular bearded man. He pointed at a leather pride patch pinned to his vest over his heart. "Love is love! We support queer rights, trans rights, uh... women's rights? What else."

"Immigrant rights?" a man with a gray ponytail suggested.

"Immigrant rights, that's a good one. And... any other rights, too! Except pig rights."

Another man shouted, "No cops at pride!"

The Rainbow Club turned to look at Blubs and Durland.

They heaved sighs. Durland said, "We'll go out the back."

The group out front visibly relaxed when the Rainbow Club came out without the sheriff and deputy. The bearded leatherman focused on Tyler as he passed. "Ty."

Tyler started. "Oh! Hiii, Ghost." His cheeks went bright red. "W-we missed you at Rainbow Club this week, again. Any thoughts about coming across the hall from time to time?"

"Those cops still showing up?"

"Well, yes."

The leatherman—who Wendy recognized now as Ghost-Eyes—shook his head. "Pass. But we can catch up next time you're at Skull Fracture."

"Oh—okay, sure. I'll see you there sometime."

"I'll buy you a drink," Ghost-Eyes said. "I like your new boots, by the way."

Tyler went red from his hairline down to his shirt collar. "I—well—you too, Ghost!" He quickly trotted off, giggling to himself. Wendy watched him go, then glanced over Ghost-Eyes—tall, broad-shouldered, auburn-haired, bushy-bearded, and as muscular as a bull on steroids—and noted wryly that Tyler had a type.

A high voice from approximately ankle height said, "Oh, hi Wendy!"

She looked down. "Gideon," she said. "Wow! ... Hi."

"Imagine running into you here! I feel like it's been forever! How're your folks doing?"

"Oh, great, great. Uh, yours?"

"We're all fantastic, thanks for askin'. I haven't seen you 'round here before, this your first time attending?"

Ah, great. Of all the people to find out Wendy was trying to sort out her identity. "Yep. Just checking it out. How's... the ex-con support group?"

"Oh it's just wonderful! Highlight of my week, honestly. It's good to talk to people who have gone through the same struggles as you."

"Aww," Ghost-Eyes said. "You're the highlight of our week too, Li'l Gideon."

Gideon started. "Oh, where are my manners! Blathering on like this. Wendy, you remember my friends, right?" He gestured around him.

"Yeah—the Discount Auto Mart Warriors, right? You guys are still hanging out?"

Ghost-Eyes said, "Of course! We have a brotherhood forged in the fires of battle against a chaos god's tyranny. Also, the court requires us to do group therapy, so it's easy to hang out."

Gideon said, "And I'm sure all of you remember Wendy."

The Warriors nodded in recognition. Ghost-Eyes said, "Weren't you the one driving through the weirdness bubbles last year? To get that kid to his sister?"

Wendy looked up at Ghost-Eyes. "Yep. That was me. No hard feelings for the whole trying-to-break-your-arm thing, right?"

"Of course not! You were fighting the man. At that time, we were the man."

Gideon said, "Really a terrible error in judgment on my part, I can't apologize enough."

"Aw, come on," Ghost-Eyes said, "it wasn't all your fault. We were all out there, too."

"No no, I take full responsibility." Gideon reached up to pat Ghost-Eyes's knuckle. "You all trusted me to steer you true and I let you down."

Wendy felt a slight tug on her wrist—and only then realized that Goldie had been a little too quiet, a little too long. She looked in the direction her magic bracelet was tugging, and spotted him waiting just up the street, leaning against Soos's truck, hands pressed to the small of his back.

"It was cool to run into you guys again," Wendy lied, "but I've got friends waiting for me, so..."

"Oh, of course, of course," Gideon said. "Are you working at the Mystery Shack again this summer? Tell Mabel I said hello!"

Wendy flashed Gideon double finger guns. "I will not do that." She power-walked away from Gideon's fan club.

As she caught up with Goldie, she said, "Hey. Sorry for making you wait." She squinted. "You okay?"

Face tinted a deep angry red and wearing the most sour expression Wendy had ever seen, Goldie said, "Sure. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You don't look okay."

"I don't control what my face does." At Wendy's skeptical look, Goldie pointed toward the Discount Auto Mart Warriors. "I was—thinking over something ridiculous they said. About fighting a chaos god's tyranny."

"Oh, they helped fight Bill—"

"I know that," Goldie cut in. "It just seems... weird to call it that!"

Recovering cultist, Wendy reminded herself. "What would you call it?"

Goldie considered the question. "Fighting a chaos god's anarchy."

She'd been half worried that Goldie was about to start defending Bill. Instead, Wendy tried to puzzle out the specific differences between tyranny and anarchy, and why it mattered to him. "Huh."

"No rules, no laws, freedom from time and physics..."

That was starting to make sense. "I don't know what Weirdmageddon felt like in the mindscape, buuut everyone I knew was still experiencing a lot of physics. When we weren't being turned into statues or imprisoned in tapestries," Wendy said. "Maybe Bill and his minions had no rules and no laws; but when only the guys in charge can do whatever they want, and everyone else is either serving them or, like, getting hunted for sport? I'd call that tyranny."

Goldie's sour look deepened, but there was something thoughtful in his averted gaze now. Like he was searching for a retort he couldn't quite find. "Huh."

Soos rolled down the passenger window. "Hey, are you dudes ready for nachos?"

####

The gossip grapevine moved faster than Soos's truck. By the time he'd dropped off Wendy and brought himself and Bill home, Wendy had texted a quick summary of "Goldie's" anarchy comment to Mabel, who passed it on to Dipper, in case this was a red flag they needed to keep an eye on; and Dipper in turn had passed the info on to Ford.

Ford wondered if Bill really didn't believe he was a tyrant, or if he just didn't want to be seen as one.

When Soos and Bill came in, the first thing Bill did was snatch his hoodie off the coat rack and pull it on, like a snake that regretted shedding its skin and was desperate to slither back inside. Cheerfully, Soos said, "Hey, Dr. Pines!"

"Hello, Soos. Everything went well?"

"Yeah, no problem! We got nachos on the way back, hope that's okay. I left Bill in the truck. Without the keys."

"I almost died of heat stroke," Bill said.

Already headed toward bed, Soos said, "Don't lie, dude. I cracked a window for you."

"Okay, okay. I was fine."

Bill drifted into the kitchen to finish his nachos. Ford drifted after him, leaning in the doorway. Bill had pulled his hood up. He typically only did that when he was in a foul mood, but he'd seemed to be in high enough spirits as he bantered with Soos. Maybe he felt exposed after going into town without his "body" on. (Three decades ago, during the weeks when Ford had been wrestling with Bill for control over his sleep-deprived body, Bill had hidden a vicious little note in Ford's third journal where he mentioned taking off his "exoskeleton" to feed. Ford wondered if Bill saw this hoodie as a substitute exoskeleton.)

"Well?" Ford said. "How was it?"

Bill turned. The false eye on the hood stared blankly through Ford. "Excuse me?" Bill laughed. "Are we on friendly conversation terms now? You want to hear about my day? Or are you just hoping I'll slip up and confess something interesting."

If Bill didn't already know the answer, he wouldn't have bothered asking. "You can't blame me for trying." Wendy hadn't shared much. Ford hoped that if Bill didn't know what the humans had been saying behind his back, he might give away more about what he'd done at Rainbow Club. Talk of tyranny and anarchy was worrying.

Ford could feel the corners of his mouth turning down as Bill's half-seen smile widened. Bill said, "I thought you said you weren't playing games with me anymore." He turned to sit on his chair backwards, legs straddling the seat. "Okay, Stanford! I had a great time! The regulars welcomed the Cool Girl and me with open arms! Fresh air, unfiltered sunshine, an hour of conversation with a roomful of people who don't detest me, a snack table with eleven kinds of bread—"

Ford's grim determination veered sideways off the road. "Wait," he said. "Eleven breads?"

"Yes?"

"Why were— What else did they have? Condiments? Sandwich materials?"

"Forks, napkins, and water bottles. That's it."

"Forks?" Ford echoed. "Forks?"

"Forks."

"Why did they have eleven breads and forks?"

Bill threw up his hands in an exaggerated shrug. "So it's not just me! I looked at that table and thought, 'This seems lopsided,' but who am I, I don't know everything about humans! One grain product or another is just about the most stereotypically human food I can think of, so—"

"No, it wasn't just you, that's—I can confirm that's weird. Why did they do that?"

"I don't know!" Bill laughed. "I don't know, no one else questioned it so I didn't say anything! I wasn't about to out myself as the alien in the room! I just grabbed a Hawaiian roll and made small talk!"

Baffled, Ford ventured, "Maybe it's a... a gay culture thing I haven't heard about?"

"It's not one I've heard of," Bill said, with a tone that suggested if it was a gay thing, he ought to have heard of it. "Hey, the club's token straight guy is in charge of bringing snacks. Maybe he thinks it's a gay culture thing."

"Maybe." It was a somewhat reassuring thought, that perhaps the bizarre spread was somebody's misguided idea of support.

"Glad that mystery's solved," Bill said, as though to him a theory was as good as an explanation. "Oh, speaking of mysteries—thought you'd find this interesting—the mayor's desk is still haunted by bears." He said it as casually as though he were picking up a conversation from a week ago, not thirty-three years ago.

That wasn't a mystery Ford had ever thought he'd get any follow-up on. "Really? Still?" Ford instinctively tugged his journal out of his inner coat pocket and searched for a blank page. "How many?"

"Just two that I saw. I don't know that the third one wasn't roaming the halls, though. I'm not quite the spy I used to be!" He gestured down at his regrettably human body.

Ford waved off the not-exactly-an-apology. "Of course. The limitations of human sight and flesh. Which ones did you see?"

"One male, one female. The smaller female."

"I find it hard to believe the mother moved on without her children. She's probably around Town Hall somewhere."

"If I see her next week, I'll let you know."

"I'd appreciate that." He started taking notes. "Why would they still be there? I would have thought after the last election..."

"I know, so did I." Bill stood and crossed the room with his nacho tray to peer over Ford's shoulder as he lightly sketched out a desk and a couple of black bears lying atop and in front of it. (Ford hadn't seen the mayor's office in over thirty years, but he'd rough out the shape now and fill in the details once he got a look at the desk again, that was how he always did it. Bill had invisibly watched him fill countless journal pages like this.) "The desk was wider. Nacho?"

"Thanks." Ford absentmindedly took a nacho between his pinkie and sixth finger without putting his pen down, and corrected his sketch at he chewed.

"I've got two theories," Bill said. "One: the bears weren't haunting the desk because ol' Huckabone was using it, but because of something he put in it. A cursed talisman or something!"

"Mm. Mayor Befufftlefumpter didn't tend to mess with forces like that."

"Maybe he didn't know it was cursed. Most people can't see the bears. No one else at Rainbow Club acknowledged them."

"And if there is a talisman of some sort, why don't you already know about it?"

"Just because I can see everything doesn't mean I pay attention to everything," Bill said. "I'll snoop for one if you want! Anyway, theory two: they were here for Huckabone, but they don't know he's passed on, and they'll hang around either until they're reunited with his spirit or somebody dispels them. But I don't like that theory as much," he said thoughtfully, "it's not as satisfying. I prefer the intrigue of a good cursed talisman. Don't you?"

"I doubt that whether it's satisfying is relevant to whether it's likely..." Ford glanced toward Bill and almost jumped out of his skin when a wide white eye stared back at him. That stupid hood again. When had Bill gotten inches from Ford's shoulder? His skin crawled retroactively. "What are you doing?"

"Helping?" Bill ate another nacho and offered the paper tray to Ford again.

Ford stared at Bill, stared at his page full of bear ghost notes, then snapped his journal shut and shoved it in his coat pocket. He was an idiot. Ford stalked off toward the guest room. Remember who you're talking to. There might not have been any bears at all. There might not even have been bread.

Bill called after him, "Maybe you should come next week. I think you'd fit right in."

Ice ran through Ford's veins. What did he mean by that? It took a force of will to keep walking to the guest room rather than turn around and confront Bill again.

He shut the door, closed his eyes, and reminded himself: how Bill's eye had glowed stoplight red when he'd threatened to torture Ford's gniece and gnephew; how Bill had shrieked with laughter when he'd invaded Ford's brother's mind.

Ford had been distracted by talk of ghosts and talismans and, and—and bread. (Bread? Really?) Mysterious and mystical talk made it easy to leave those dark memories sleeping undisturbed.

And that scared Ford. Because he thought, for a normal person, it shouldn't have been possible to forget those things, much less easy.

You'd fit right in with my freaks.

He opened his journal, scratched out half his notes about the bear ghosts, and spent half a page untangling how Bill had lured him into a conversation...

And finally concluded that Bill hadn't done much luring at all. He'd just... talked.

He finished with a "DON'T TRUST HIM!!" and underlined it twice.

####

Well. If Bill and Ford were playing verbal games now, Bill had easily won that one.

He'd peppered in twice that he planned to attend Rainbow Club again next week, and Ford hadn't protested. Ford had even said he'd appreciate it. All that, and Bill hadn't had to reveal that he was busily making friends with the local mayor, sheriff, and deputy, or that he now knew where to find his own wayward one-time "sheriff."

All the same. As much as he appreciated getting a win, he wouldn't have minded going 2 out of 3. Bill had done most of the talking. (One of his most endearing flaws, he thought.) He kinda wondered what Ford thought about the bears haunting the desk. Ford had a tendency to overthink everything in such interesting ways.

Patience. This was the longest conversation he'd had with Ford in decades that hadn't consisted of pure, grim business. He was making progress. Maybe next week he could bring home a haunted bear talisman, see where that got him.

He wondered what Ford had thought of his birthday gift.

####

(Thanks for reading! This is probably the longest chapter we've had so far, but I didn't want to cut off before they even got to the club. If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate hearing what y'all think!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #wendy corduroy #sheriff blubs #deputy durland #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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mrs-starkgaryen · 1 month

Text

Meet me at the Corner (Shop) teaser

Modern! Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Teaser 2, Teaser 3

✍️ (My other writings) ✍️

You keep meeting a certain silver-haired man at the local corner shop and whilst you only came in for a snack, you leave with a whole lot more.

Warnings: Will post more with the whole ones-shot later, but for now- Rude Aegon, British corner shop life, missing punctuation and grammar, probably

A/N: This is my first fanfic. I don't know why I wrote this, I just wanted to get me started. THERE IS MORE TO COME TO THIS ONE-SHOT IF PEOPLE LIKE IT (or even if they don't)!

I just love my man, Aegon, and you know what they say- if there isn't a fanfic you want, write it yourself so tada!

Please like, reblog and leave constructive comments (or any) :D

The bell dinged when I pushed open the heavy door, announcing my entrance to the shop’s inhabitants. I hated the thing. I’d rather slink in, grab what I want and leave, like a snake slithering in the long blades of grass, pouncing on its prey and disappearing. But now, I had to endure walking around the shop as the only cashier available had his eyes fixed on my movements.

He was an older man, probably mid-fifties, greying hair and even though he was always behind the till, he had a noticeable belly, like a balloon shoved underneath his shirt. There is nothing outwardly wrong with him but he always makes me feel uncomfortable, from how he would watch me wonder or judge me for what I buy. The latter probably wasn’t true and the former… well the former was probably him watching for shoplifters- which I don’t blame him for. Corner shops were prime targets for theft.

As the embarrassment of the bell’s acknowledgment evaporated, I make myself look up begrudgingly to him, to acknowledge my arrival with a nod or a smile. But upon looking at the man behind the till, instead of the sides of my mouth lifting upwards, they went down. For in the place of the typical man, was a much younger one. He had scruffy hair in the shade of ice dripping down his head and sported snow-sprinkled stubble which he was scratching absent-mindedly as he scrolled on his phone.

He was leaning over the counter as I made my way past the magazine section next to the door but he must have been too engrossed in whatever was on his screen for he didn’t once look up at me. I was grateful for it but it was odd, coming into a corner shop and not being watched. With this new revelation in mind, I made my way around the aisles, looking for the items that I came in for: cookies, a Cadbury bar, a bag of Doritos, a can of Monster and a milkshake. I was planning on watching the new season of my favourite TV series in its entirety tonight and I was planning on having a good time. I navigated the thin aisles, trying not to bump into the products that hung off the shelves, adding the necessary items to the growing pile in my arms.

Trying to balance the unknown brand of cookies on top, I position myself to hold the items better with this new addition. However, the packet falls to the floor with a crunch and I wince at the sound interrupting the silence of the shop. Heat blooms in my cheeks as I peer over the pile of food to the cookies on the ground before tentatively turning my eyes to the man behind the till to see if he noticed. Oh man, oh man. He is going to think I’m a pig who can’t resist all these snacks

Fortunately, the man was still flicking through his phone and not paying attention to the happenings of the shop that he oversaw. A brief idea of me just walking out with the items flashed through my mind but I banished it away, heading my way towards the cashier. I stood in front of him, waiting for him to notice that he had a customer.

But the white-haired man seemed intent on pretending he was not here, and that was something we had in common. I started to wish the creepy older man was back. At least he was aware of the people in the shop. My arms were beginning to ache, so I had to break the silence we both were unwillingly in; I let out a small cough.

His eyes flick up from the screen and land on me. He rolls his eyes and slowly puts his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing uniform, but instead a short-sleeved checkered shirt that was open to reveal a t-shirt with a quote on, underneath. I tried to get a glimpse but after reading the top three words, ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he moved to cross his arms, blocking the rest of the words. He waited for me to put my items on the till.

Noticing his disgruntled face, I smile shyly as I empty my arms. “Hi. Just these please.”

He grabs the items and starts to scan. Beep, beep, beep. I stand there, swaying on the soles of my feet as I waited. He places the stuff in a blue-lined bag and places it in front of me. Then we go back to the silence, staring at each other. Why is he staring at me? My eyes start to look around, trying to avoid his intense gaze, especially as his eyes are a weird colour, like an amethyst cracked open, gems being disrupted from their rocky slumber.

Nervously, I flicker back to his shirt. ‘Sorry I’m late- my alarm didn’t go off. Because I didn’t turn it on. Because I didn’t want to be here.’ A puff of unwanted laughter escapes my mouth; the shirt is appropriate for the man in front of me. Who was still staring at me.

Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. I open my mouth, “So how- “

“Do you want the cookies or not?”

“Huh?”

He nods towards the pack that I dropped on the floor earlier, the ones that I forgot to pick up. “Oh,” I rush back to grab them and plonk them on the till, smiling, “Yes please, wouldn’t be a movie night without them.”

The man doesn’t say anything to attest if that was true but scanned the biscuits and shoved them into the bag with the rest. Not talkative, I see.

“£5.48.”

I nod, pulling out my purse, searching for the change. 25p, 32p, 46p. Oh for the love of- the one time you need to be drowning in copper coins-

Realising that I am delaying this man returning to his favourite pastime, I start to panic. “Sorry” I say.

Oh, he isn’t going to like me. I need 2p, where is it? I finally find one stuck in the crevices of my purse, I pull it out. Huzzah! I happily extend my clenched fist over his, “I knew I had it.”

I drop the money and wait for him to count it. He nods and hands the bag over to me, before pulling his phone back out. I take it business was done.

I shuffle on my feet, eager to patch up the bad taste I must have left in his mouth, “Thank you!”

He doesn’t respond, I fidget with the plastic straps, “Sorry about the wait,” I realise he still hasn’t moved from watching his phone. Well, okay then… I head for the door, tugging it open with my free hand. Before I exit into the cold night, I look back but he’s still not looking, I stretch out one more olive branch, “Have a good night.”

He was as stoic as ever. I huff and let the door close between us. As I trudge home, I ponder about the weird man and for once, I start to hope that I’ll see the old one the next time I go into The Hightower corner shop.

More to come (only a few thousand words left)

#house of the dragon #hotd #modern aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #modern aegon targaryen #modern house of the dragon #tom glynn carney #tom glynn-carney #hotd fanfic #new and improved #aegon targaryen one shot #hotd one shot

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magalhaessims · 2 months

Text

SANDTRAP GAS STATION - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

NOT CC FREE

Lot Type: Retail

Size: 30x20

World: Oasis Springs

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

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

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

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

Charly Pancakes: Chalk (Kitchen Clutter) || TheClutterCat: Baby Boo | Mermais Mainson || Felixandre: Colonial (2022) | Kyoto | Paris | Soho || Harrie: Klean || House of Harlix: Baysic Bathroom || LittleDica: Chic Bathroom| Greasy Goods | H&B Store | Rise&Grind Cafe || Max20: Garage And Storage || Peacemaker-ic: Bowed Bedroom || Pierisim: Coldbrew | Pantry Party | Tilable || Sixam-CC: Home Improvement | Private School | Stylish Wood: Nursery || Syboulette: Crosfit Reborn

HOW TO MAKE THIS LOT FUNCTIONAL:

For the Convenience Store, I’m incorporating both the Shop Chef Consumables Mod by @ravasheencc and the Grocery Bags by @aroundthesims, enabling your Sims to purchase food items within the store.

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

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

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

Thank you for reblogging: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds and everyone else for helping me boost this post!

#the sims 4 #ts4 maxis match #ts4 build #ts4 cc build #ts4 speed build #ts4 community lot #ts4 retail #ts4 gas station #ts4 oasis springs #build #download

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astrayas · 7 months

Text

Pressure Point

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex

WC: 6k

Summary: When you run into Toji Fushiguro for the first time in years, you find him in the most unexpected position: as your new massage therapist.

18+!!!

Ao3 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“…So she wasn’t able to make it in today. I’m so sorry for the short notice!”

You sling your bag back onto your shoulder and rub your neck, masking your disappointment with a polite smile.

“Oh…that’s a shame,” you say. You were really looking forward to your appointment today. Your usual masseuse is nothing less than an artist, and you’ve got plenty of knots to work out right now. “Well, when’s the next time she’s free?”

“Since you’re one of her regulars, I think we could work you in tomorrow…” the manager chirps, clicking at her computer. She takes a few minutes, clearly unfamiliar with the software. They’re really understaffed today. “But…oh! Actually, there is someone available to take you right now.”

“Oh?” You perk back up again, which is all it takes to strain your muscles. You wince just a bit. You really need some relief.

“Yes! He’s actually our top massage therapist. His new clients normally have to book him months in advance, but it looks like he had a cancellation today. I can go grab him, if you’re interested!”

You deflate just a little. Him? You’ve never seen a male massage therapist, and you weren’t planning to start today. Then your shoulder whines at you again, as if to protest your hesitation, and you’re rubbing at it before you realize it.

Well, if he’s really that good…

“Um. Sure,” you force out. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all!” She springs to her feet and graces you with a polished customer service smile. “Please, have a seat. I’ll go let him know.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, a rush of nerves guiding your short, stilted steps to the nearest chair. You flop into it and try to reason with yourself. If you get uncomfortable, you can just leave. But he’s their top massage therapist. He obviously knows what he’s doing, and you really need—

“Nuh-uh. I don’t do walk-ins.”

A loud, gruff voice booms from the hallway, clearly audible through the thick waiting room door. Whoever’s speaking doesn’t seem to care about indoor voices. You have to strain to hear the manager’s response.

“She’s not a walk-in!” she argues. “She had an appointment, but Rei called out at the last minute.”

“Sounds like that’s Rei’s problem, then.”

After a few seconds of silence, you stand up. This sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. You can wait another day; you’ll just tell them you’ll reschedule.

“Come on! This client’s been coming to us for years. We can’t lose her!” the manager pleads.

“You can’t lose her. I’ll be just fine.”

Your lip curls in disgust as you hoist your bag over your aching shoulder. People book this guy months in advance? Whatever. You can just leave and call them later. But as you turn to walk out the door, you hear one last exchange.

“Ugh…how about this? I’ll give you a few extra days off next month.”

You pause mid-step.

“…I want a week.”

“A week?”

“I’ve been working my fingers to the bone for you for God knows how long. I want a week, or I walk.”

Another long, heavy silence, but you’re still listening.

“…Fine. Fine. I’ll make it happen. Just go out there and be pleasant, alright?”

“I’m never anything but,” the gruff voice hums, and you can just barely hear the manager groan as the door flies open. The strap on your bag slides down your shoulder at the same moment, and you look down as you pull it back up with a grimace.

“You must be the one Rei stranded today. Nice to meet you. I’m—“

He freezes mid-sentence. When you finally look back up, you freeze, too.

“Toji…” you murmur.

You’ve lost count of the years it’s been since you and Toji Fushiguro parted ways. But you could go a century without seeing that face and still recognize it. The scar on his mouth, his fierce green eyes, his strong, chiseled frame…none of it’s really easy to forget.

But it’s his most unforgettable feature—his big, wolfish grin—that traps you in place when it’s clear he recognizes you, too.

“Well, well,” he croons, an irritating melody ringing in his voice as he holds the door open and extends his hand. “Come on back, ma’am. Last door on the left.”

You shuffle past him without so much as a “Thank you” and grip the strap of your bag tight. God, why did it have to be him? Out of all the people who could have walked out of that door, why him?

You step into the room he pointed you to and take it in with wide eyes. This is certainly a step up from your usual setup with Rei. It’s bigger, but the atmosphere is so much more intimate. Soft, ambient music drifts through the room. Candles flicker on select small tables lining the perimeter of the space, playing on the velvety flower petals artfully arranged on the floor and the massage table. It’s downright romantic.

But it’s the table itself, lying in the center of the room, that draws most of your attention. It’s plush and oversized, draped in crisp, clean linens and adorned with a fluffy duvet and a lavish pillow. It almost looks like it was made for sleeping instead.

And it looks…sturdy.

“So. Been a while since you up and vanished,” Toji says with little ceremony, shutting the door behind him. “What have you been—”

“So is this a sex thing? Is that what you do here?” you blurt out. He blinks at you, mouth falling slightly open, and crosses his arms.

“Wow. That’s the first thing you say to me in six years?” he rasps.

Six years. It’s been six long years.

You blink back at him a few more times before you register what you just said, and you slap a hand to your mouth several seconds too late.

“Uh—shit—” you stutter, your hand rising to slap your forehead. “I didn’t mean—”

After some lengthy floundering, which he lets you do in perfect silence, your hands finally drop to your sides, and you heave a deep sigh.

“I just—this is a big bed—”

“You mean a massage table.”

“And apparently you’re the most requested guy here—”

“Because I’m a good massage therapist.”

“And you were a criminal the last time we talked!” you finish. Your voice rises a little more than you intended, and that goddamned knot in your shoulder spasms. You rub at it desperately and take a calming breath.

Something like a low growl rumbles in Toji’s chest as he strolls over to the sink and washes his hands.

“If I’m remembering correctly—and I am—you weren’t an upstanding citizen back then, either,” he flings back. He dries his hands, turns back around, and leans against the counter, looking you up and down. “At least my crimes were impressive.”

You set your bag on a nearby chair and scoff at him. “Yeah. So impressive I just couldn’t bear to live in your shadow anymore.”

“Cute,” he sneers. “You want the damn massage or not? Because you clearly need it.”

“Oh, like you can really tell—”

“Your right shoulder. That one’s obvious.” He pushes himself away from the counter and closes the distance between you with just a couple steps. “You keep rubbing at it like a maniac. But the way you’re standing right now tells me you have pain in your lower back, too. Right about…” He circles behind you, a shadow of a grin growing on his face before he disappears from your sight. You shiver when he rests a large, strong hand exactly where the small of your back hurts the most. “...Here.”

You spin back around and scowl at him. He holds his hands up in an innocent gesture.

“Yeah, those are my biggest problem areas,” you mutter.

“Then let’s take care of ‘em,” he proposes, sauntering over to the door. “Believe it or not, I am a professional now. I take my clients seriously.”

His eyes glint when he turns the knob.

“Even petty thieves like you.”

Your blood pressure instantly shoots through the sky.

“Don’t think I won’t—” you start, unsure of what vague threat you’re about to make, but he’s already halfway out the door.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to get undressed,” he nearly sings. “Start out face-down.”

And with that, he’s gone. The door shuts with a click, leaving every stupid knot in your back to tense up and scream even louder. You don’t even bother hanging your clothes on any of the hooks nearby, opting to pelt them to the floor instead. Infuriating. He’s infuriating. He’s every bit as infuriating as he was all those years ago, when you were just two delinquents among many wreaking havoc in town.

Back when you thought he was the sexiest, funniest, dreamiest guy on earth.

You smack some petals off the table before you settle under the sheets, lying on your stomach. Whatever. It’s not like the feeling was mutual. What did you even see in him back then, anyway? Other than the eyes and the muscles and the voice and the face and the—

Toji knocks on the door.

“You decent?” he calls from the other side.

“No,” you sniff. “But I’m under the sheet. You can come in.”

He chuckles as he lets himself back in and promptly closes the door. You can only see his feet as he walks past you and stops at the counter, and he shakes a bottle.

“Alright. So, I know your shoulder and your lower back are your biggest problems right now, but I’ll find your other pressure points as we work,” he announces, instantly professional. “But first, I need to ask if you’ve got any areas I should avoid.”

“Nope,” you inform the floor. “It’s all up for grabs.”

He laughs again, and you curse yourself under your breath. What an atrocious choice of words.

“Good to know,” he hums. Ugh. He sounds too pleased.

Your heart skips as soon as he pulls the sheet down from your shoulders all the way to just above your backside. He gets straight to work, starting by feeling for tight areas.

“Yeesh. You’ve got trigger points all the way down your back,” he marvels. “It’s almost impressive.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you sigh.

You have to admit it: even now, even as he just searches and assesses, his touch is divine. It must be thanks to those dexterous fingers, those powerful hands, his shocking familiarity with every part of the human body…

You squeeze your eyes shut in a desperate bid to push the thoughts out. Stupid. Stupid. What a stupid crush you had on him. You start talking just to fill your head with something, anything else.

“How’d you even fall into this line of work? It’s not—“ Your breath hitches when you hear him squeeze some oil onto his hands and rub them together. “It’s, um…just not a career path I ever thought you’d take.”

You can hear the grin in his response. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to help people?”

You answer with some snorting laughter, which tells him enough.

“Thought not,” he sighs. “No point in lying, then.” His hands work their way to the rough spot on your shoulder, and you brace yourself. “Honestly? It’s good money. That’s all there is to it.”

“That I believe,” you answer, screwing your eyes shut when he starts working that knot. This is going to be a rough session, you just know it.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he mumbles, genuine shock lining his voice. “What do you do these days?”

“I’m just an office worker,” you grunt. You take a deep breath when he digs in again.

“An office worker and…what? A cage fighter? A trapeze artist? These are insane knots for an office worker.”

“I’ve got—phew—I’ve got really bad posture,” you mutter. You squirm under his movements.

“Clearly. You must be hunched over 24/7.”

This time, you don’t answer him. Deep tissue massages can hurt, sure, but this is on a whole new level. You bear with him for about another minute before you wave him away.

“God, Toji, are all your clients masochists?!” you cry, glaring at the floor. You keep lying flat on your stomach, waiting for the pain to ebb away.

“…Some are,” he croons.

Your hands tense at your sides. “So it is—”

“I’m joking, damn,” he huffs. He switches to your other shoulder and, mercifully, handles it with a lot less pressure. “I mean, I’m sure some are. I wouldn’t know. People just come to me when they’ve got injuries and chronic issues. When it comes to that slow, painful deep tissue massage, I’m the best around.”

“Solving pain with pain,” you remark. He slides down to the middle of your back and digs into a spot just to the left of your spine. “That does sound right up your alley.”

“...I see you’ve still got a mouth on you,” he grumbles, and whether consciously or not, he pushes down especially hard. You suck in a breath and screw your eyes shut. “How’d you land a cushy office job with your attitude?”

“I learned when to keep my mouth shut,” you fight to answer, focusing on your breathing. “I was wondering the same thing about you, based on that conversation I heard in the hallway. Do you always talk to your managers like that?”

“Ha!” He pulls his hands away and rubs some more oil between them. “Only the ones who can’t afford to lose me. Business has been booming since I started here. And, damn, you should see the tips I get.”

“Tips?” you squawk, pushing yourself onto your elbows and staring up at him. “What do you mean, you get tips? What do you do to earn tips?”

“Um.”

Toji clears his throat and looks to the side. It’s only when he physically covers his eyes with his hand do you realize you pushed yourself so far up you nearly exposed your chest.

“Oh. Sorry…” you mumble, flopping back down. Heat erupts on your skin. You’re really excelling at making an ass of yourself today.

“What’s with you?” he grunts. He presses a palm against that sore spot at the small of your back. “We’re allowed to accept tips here. Why are you so sure I’m just doing weird sex stuff?”

Before you can answer, he starts applying pressure to the spot. Lots of it. To your surprise, it actually feels…good. So in lieu of a response, you simply let out a groan that lasts a little too long. And just beneath it, just for a moment, you swear you can hear a pleased sound humming in him, too.

“Don’t tell me…” His thumbs rub the small of your back in slow, deep circles. “...you were hoping for it?”

Your eyes shoot open. But he pushes in again, granting you deeper relief, and you lose the will to snap back at him. Not when he’s finally easing all that tension.

“Are you disappointed I don’t offer any special services?”

“Gimme a break,” you manage to say. But that’s all you say before his hands slide down to your glutes. Over the sheet, of course, like a professional, and he’s stroking them like any professional massage therapist would. But that doesn’t change the fact that, in a less professional sense…his hands are still on your ass.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” he boasts. He slides a little lower. He’s…really working those glutes. “I know why I really get so many requests. I know why my tips are so great. I mean, just look at me—”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you spit, wriggling out of his hands and flipping onto your back. You’re careful to keep the sheet over your chest this time. “I heard enough of that for a lifetime back in the day.”

“Hey. I’m not done with your back,” he pouts, frowning at you.

“Can we come back to it later? You’re gonna break it at this rate.”

“Coulda just asked me to be gentler.” He lifts the sheet away from your left leg and takes your foot in his hand. “I can do that.”

As if to prove his point, he uses a single thumb to gently stroke the inside of your arch. Exactly where it aches after a long day in heels. How did he know that was a sore spot, too?

“I listen to my clients,” he continues, stretching out your foot and sliding up your leg. He starts kneading the lowest part of your thigh, just above the knee. “Another reason why I end the day with so much extra cash.”

“I get it,” you mutter. “You have an awesome job and you make lots of money because you’re super hot. Congratulations.”

“Super hot, huh?” he whirs. “I mean, I know, but it’s nice to hear from that mouth you allegedly know how to keep shut.”

“Ugh.” You desperately try to focus your attention on the soothing motions of his fingers. “Can’t believe I used to have such a big crush on you.”

For a moment, for a fleeting, measly fraction of a second, his hands jerk. Then they pick back up as usual, gliding a little farther up your thigh. It takes him a few seconds to answer.

“Did you, now?”

Your brows furrow, but you keep your eyes closed.

“C’mon, Toji, it was so obvious,” you sigh. “There’s no way you didn’t know.”

“I really didn’t,” he says flatly. His fingers dig a little deeper into your skin. “We ran with a big group, remember? I…didn’t get to see you as much as I wanted to.”

You shift a bit under his touch. “As much as you wanted to?”

“...See? You didn’t know I had a thing for you, either.”

His fingers linger on your thigh, rubbing the same spot over and over. Finally, you open your eyes. You sit up to rest on your elbows and look right at him. And in the dim, flickering candlelight, you take a moment to really study his face for the first time in six years.

Six years that haven’t done much to age him, really. His jaw is still strong and sharp. The deep scar etched into his lip still hasn’t faded. His hands, which you’ve become very familiar with today, are still powerful, with veins and tendons that ripple just beneath the skin, with fingertips calloused but not rough. And his muscles are still toned and strong, if that tight black t-shirt has anything to say about it.

“Well. What could have been, right?” you murmur. You glance to the side and let your head fall back onto the table; you can’t bear to hold eye contact any longer.

After a long, tense moment, he pulls the sheet back over your left leg and moves to your other side.

“...Yeah. What could’ve been.”

He moves up your leg the same way he did the first, every knead and stroke therapeutic, but something feels different about his touch. It’s more…clinical. Truly professional now. Like you’re just any other client.

You fight the sinking feeling in your chest. The fact that he never showed he was interested in you stings a little, but that doesn’t matter anymore. There’s a reason you left the way you did. Toji wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for him. Nobody in that group you ran with was good for each other. You had to leave while you were still just a petty thief. Before you started racking up “impressive” crimes like him.

Toji’s still quiet as he pulls the sheet back over your legs and moves to the head of the table, settling on a rolling chair and scooting forward. You open your eyes again but look at nothing in particular. You don’t know what to look at. You don’t know what to say.

His hands slide under your shoulders, searching for that especially tight spot again. The moment he finds it, he digs in. You clench your teeth and bear it. Working out a knot can hurt. He’s doing his job. Just let him do his job. Just let him—

“Why’d you leave?”

Your eyes fly back open. His hands haven’t stopped working, but they have slowed.

“What?” you squeak.

“Why did you leave?” he repeats. You glance up and find him staring right back down at you, those deep green eyes glimmering even in the dim light. “Why did you just up and leave like that? No note, no nothin’?”

“Because…” You take a deep breath. It’s been a while since you’ve thought about those days. “Because I just couldn’t keep going like that. I couldn’t keep spending every day scoping out targets, planning which stores I’d hit next. I had to get out and make something of myself. I did it, and…look, you did it, too.”

“But why did you leave like that?” he carries on, his voice tinged with something close to desperation. “Why did you just disappear? Do you know how much that killed me? To just lose you like that, overnight, no explanation?”

You fight against a new sensation in your chest. It’s something rising, growing, gnawing.

“Because if I’d said anything, you would’ve tried to make me stay,” you answer.

“I couldn’t sleep at night wondering what happened to you.”

“You were the only one who could have made me stay.”

“When I could sleep, you were in my dreams.”

“You never needed me, Toji! You didn’t need me then, and you don’t need me now!”

“Fuck you for thinking that. And fuck you for just leaving.”

“Fuck you for making me think you wouldn’t care!”

He doesn’t respond to you before he flies to his feet, takes a breath, and walks back to the other end of the table.

“Lie back,” he says. “We’re not done with your massage.”

“Huh?”

“Lie back,” he repeats. “I’ve got some more pressure points to work out.”

“Uh…alright?” you mutter, and slowly, you settle back onto the table and stare at the ceiling. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he pulls the sheet back from one leg again, lifting it all the way to the top of your thigh this time. He squeezes some more oil onto his hands and rests his palm on your knee.

“Did you know you’ve got a lot of tension down here, too?” he asks, his voice low.

“I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m tense everywhere.”

“You really are,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “Like…when I was massaging your legs, I kept feeling you tense up when I got around…” His fingers snake their way to your inner thigh. “Here.”

You suck in a breath. “Well, that’s a sensitive area, so…”

And you’re sure you’re tensing up now. But the heated exchange you just shared is still ringing in your ears. That would leave anyone tense, right?

And it’s normal for your legs to part when they’re tense…right?

Your other leg has only moved a few inches away. But it’s a shift big enough for Toji to notice, and he glances down with a smirk.

“Is it, now?” he purrs. His fingers crawl a little higher up your leg. “Sensitive here, too?”

“Uh-huh…” you murmur, gripping the sheet below you. He’s reaching pretty far up. If he keeps going, it won’t be long before he finds out just how sensitive you’ve been from the moment he started touching you.

But you don’t stop him. You don’t want to.

“And how about—” he starts, but he stops himself when his thumb swipes across one part of your inner thigh a little too quickly. Like it slipped on something slick.

Your eyes shoot over to him. Well, secret’s out now. But still…you were dripping that far down your leg? That’s almost embarrassing.

His expression, though, suggests he doesn’t think so.

“Oh…” he whispers with a heavy voice, a strained voice, a voice that tells you all professionalism just flew out the window. “I think I know where you’re holding a lot of tension.”

Your heart flutters when his fingers dance their way up to the source of all that tension, when his knuckles graze it with all the pressure of a feather. It starts to ache the same way it did for him years ago, when you thought he never had eyes for you.

“Think you can help me with it?” you invite, parting your legs a little wider.

That little smirk grows into the same wolfish grin he first greeted you with. One finger, one long, strong finger, circles your entrance and slides in. You’re melting and moaning in the same moment, relishing the new ferocity lighting up his eyes.

“I think I can,” he breathes, sliding his finger in and out, up and down. “A special service just for you, since you’re just so damn—” Another finger slips in to join the first. “—tight.”

He waits until he’s up to his palm before he curls both fingers upward, searching for that spot, the source of all that pressure inside you. It takes him all of a second to find it. He beckons back and forth, up and down. He spreads his fingers ever so slightly, settling on a pressure that commands all your attention to that area.

You whimper and close your eyes. There’s so much you want to say. You want to find out where he learned to do that. You want to tease him, ask him how much he’s practiced. But this moment would be better spent, you remind yourself, simply enjoying this instead. So you part your legs a little wider and let him demonstrate just how well he’s learned to use his hands.

He leans forward just far enough to let you glue your hands to his shoulders. As he does, his other hand comes down to push just above your pelvis, his palm grazing your clit, and that tension rises higher and higher.

Then he leans in a little more. Every flicker of the candles reveals a new detail you’d missed in his face before. Every night of sleep he lost. Every day he thought of you. Every test he faced to make something more of himself, just like you did. Your hands work their way up to cradle either side.

And that’s it.

His lips are on yours, and his fingers pump faster. You claim each other in a kiss six years overdue, a kiss so desperate and needy and vicious it nearly consumes you. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and explores it freely. His teeth dig into your lower lip, a gesture as rough as his massage, but it brings you nothing but pleasure.

Pleasure that grows and grows and grows with all that tension he’s working out of you, so close to releasing. Your eyes start to flutter; your nails sink into his shoulders; your walls clench tighter and tighter.

“There it is,” he murmurs, encouraging you to keep going. “Let it loose. Let it out. Let me feel you let it out.”

The palm he’d left on your stomach presses down a little harder, condensing all that pressure into a volatile ball. His fingers beckon your pleasure forward quickly, deftly, and you writhe when you feel your tension threaten to release all at once.

And it releases like an explosion, knocking your head back and pushing your back up from the table. You try to buck your hips, but his hold on your pelvis is so strong that you ride out your ecstasy between his hands instead. Your walls convulse around his fingers uncontrollably, which he holds in place until your tumultuous release fades to gentle ripples.

And when those, too, die down, he captures your lips in another greedy kiss.

“How’s that tension?” he asks with a sly grin.

“Hmm…” You hold a finger to your chin and pretend to think. “Better, but I think there’s still some left.”

Your eyes flick down to his pants, which do little to hide what kind of tension he might be feeling now, too.

“If you’re still up for helping me work it out, I mean,” you add, letting the rest of the sheet fall from your chest. He allows himself a brazen, longing glance at it before he stands back up and pulls his fingers out, making you jerk.

“For such an important new client? Of course,” he hums. And like he just can’t help himself, he’s already slipping a thumb under the waistband of his pants. “If you could just get face-down again, ma’am.”

You giggle and flip back onto your stomach, tossing the rest of the sheet to the floor. Toji lets out a low whistle of appreciation when he finally sees you completely uncovered.

“Goddamn,” he mutters. And that table proves just as sturdy as you imagined when it barely even jostles as he joins you on it, pushing your legs apart and settling between them on his knees. His hands roam across your body, drawing hard lines between your shoulders, down your back, up and across and around your ass. You turn your face to one side and rest it against the plush table, enjoying every movement of his skilled fingers.

“Goddamn, goddamn,” he repeats, just to really drive the point home. He keeps one hand on your ass while the other pulls itself away. A couple fingers slide up and down your slit, just long enough to make it tingle, and then…he’s lined up with your entrance. A wave of anticipation ripples through you, emerging only as a faint shiver.

“So. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna push down and push in,” he says, palming the small of your back. “Still gotta work out those knots, after all.”

“Wow. Truly dedicated to your craft,” you snicker.

“Like I said, I’m a professional. Now, breathe in…”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just do it. Breathe in…”

You look back at him with a raised brow, but you do as he says and take in a deep breath.

“And out…”

You breathe out a lot more quickly than you were planning to when you start feeling pressure everywhere. His thumbs are digging into your back, stroking it in even circles. But he’s pushing into you at the same time, filling you out slowly, completely. The arousal that’s practically pooled inside of you lets him slide in easily, but it still takes a second to adjust to his size. Your face falls back onto the crisp linen sheet beneath you, your eyes closing and your lips parting as you embrace that delectable fullness.

“Good?” he asks behind you once he’s fully buried in you, and one hand slides back down to grab your ass.

“Very good,” you confirm.

You and Toji groan in tandem when he pulls his hips back, dragging himself slowly along your walls, and pushes back in. The moment you relax around him, he thrusts a little faster. And faster, and faster, and faster, until he has to secure a hold on your hips.

What a pro, you think to yourself with a smirk. How did he know? How did he know this was just the pressure you needed?

“Just when I was starting to forget about you,” he growls, snapping back against your hips. He doesn’t spare a single inch every time he drives himself back into you. Your jostle forward and bunch what you can of the sheets between your trembling fingers. “I was just starting to forget you, and you had to go and waltz back into my life. That’s just like you.”

Your answer barely comes out as anything more than a few pathetic whimpers. “Then maybe this time—fuck—you shouldn’t—”

His fingers bury themselves in your hips.

“Let me—”

He leans forward until his chest meets your back, his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. His rhythm starts to falter.

“Go.”

Your words must spark some new flame in him. Because he’s pounding into you mercilessly now, driving deep inside you and hitting that perfect spot again and again. You whimper, you mewl, you muffle your groans against the pillow, and your walls start to flutter around his cock.

“You think I’ll let you go now?” he snarls, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your skin. “No. Not now. Not when I’ve finally got you like I’ve always wanted you.”

He plants ravenous, messy kisses against your neck. His teeth graze your shoulder, threatening to clamp down and make good on his claim.

Shit. You’re getting close again. Your groans rise until he has to hold a hand against your mouth.

And you know you should keep it down, lest you ruin this good job he’s landed for himself. But you can’t stop a wordless cry from trying to push its way through his palm when that tension shatters inside you again, releasing wave after wave of ecstasy. He shudders and hisses behind you, his hips snapping and jerking and stuttering until he pulls out of you. His release lands on your back a moment later.

For a few seconds, neither of you say anything or move a muscle. You simply soak in the afterglow six years in the making, your ragged breaths overpowering the soft, ambient music. Then Toji finally breaks the silence with a simple remark:

“Fuck.”

“Fuck,” you agree.

You stay on your stomach, eyes closed, as he pushes himself off the massage table and pulls his pants back on.

“Just a sec,” he mumbles. You simply nod, lying motionless where you are as he wipes his mess off your back. “And…hour’s almost up. I’d like to keep working out your knots all day, believe me, but I do have a client coming in.”

You blink your eyes back open. For a moment, you wonder if you should say what’s on your mind. If this one-time reunion should stay a one-time reunion. But with or against your better judgment, you decide to voice what you really want, instead.

“I’ll just have to come back for another session, then, right?”

You flip back over and sit up to find him already grinning at you.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he chuckles as he finishes buckling his belt. He steps up to you and takes your face in his hands, rubbing a soothing thumb across your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips, and he steals one more long, hard, greedy kiss before he takes the dirty towel with him to the door. “...I’ll give you a minute to get dressed.”

When he shuts the door, you hop off the table onto shaky legs and fumble to put your clothes back on. You comb your fingers through your hair and adjust your skirt, ready to face the world after a truly satisfying…massage.

The manager’s still sitting at the front desk when you walk back into the waiting room. She looks up from her computer and greets you with a big smile.

“Wow, you look happy!” she pipes up. “I take it Toji took good care of you?”

“Yeah,” you say, hoisting your bag back onto your shoulder. Funny. He didn’t spend that much time on it, but it already feels so much lighter. “I feel great.”

Toji appears in the doorway, wiping his hands on a new towel, smirking at you and leaning against the frame.

“I’m so glad to hear that! So, did you want to—”

“Book her for next week,” Toji says so nonchalantly, like he’s just finished up an average session. The manager beams at you, clearly pleased that their center could make it up to you after their blunder today. Toji looks right at you, too, when he shares another note.

“She’s gonna be one of my regulars.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #toji x y/n #jjk smut #jjk toji

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