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violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months

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Hello!

I wanted to order something from Wonka (2023) because I fell in love with it after watching the movie! So if possible, I would like something fluff in which Reader and Wonka are mutually in love but neither has enough confidence to declare themselves and Noodle helps them both to tell each other their feelings. (sorry if I didn't understand, the english isn't my first language)

A little push [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

note: first of all, I want to tell you not to worry because English is not my first language either (i'm Mexican, where are u from?) and second, I loved writing this, I had fun and I think I got a little excited with the words count, haha. I hope you enjoy!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

“Everything is amazing!” Noodle squealed, as he walked down the stone hallway and looked around with absolute fascination: from the chocolate river to the glass ceiling through which you could look at the blue sky.

After you had gotten rid of the Chocolate Cartel and the rest of the group had returned to their normal lives, Willy had finally started his dream of building a chocolate factory. Now that it was finally finished, you and Noodle had been the first in the world to have the privilege of seeing it. You had stayed in touch, of course, although it was almost always when he went to town in search of some materials for his creations, to sell chocolates on the streets or to work on rebuilding the store at the Galeries Gourmet.

"So you think?" he asked, smiling. He loved the girl as if she were his little sister and you imagined that her approval would prove to be quite important.

“Of course, it's magnificent,” she assured him. You looked out at the grass and waved at the little orange man (who you now knew was called Lofty) who was drinking from a small cup “Is the river real chocolate?”

“Of course it's real chocolate, who do you think you're talking to?” he murmured, almost offended “Go explore and eat whatever you want. I accept suggestions for improvements” Willy indicated to your friend, who smiled at you apologetically and bolted towards the glass bridge section.

“I think we'll finish the merchandise before the opening,” you joked and then Willy seemed to remember your presence.

His smile was extremely sweet when he turned to you to offer you to take his arm, like a gentleman, and so you began walking, a little slower and a shorter distance.

“It would be impossible, I assure you.”

“How have sales been?” you questioned and then he began to give you a summary of everything.

Abacus was still his trusted accountant so this whole matter was well monitored, which allowed him to make all the movements, purchases, and remodeling. While Noodle (whose name you knew wasn't hers, but you kept calling her that out of habit) was lost in the recesses of the enchanted castle you seemed to be in.

"A flower?" he offered you suddenly, leaning down to pull one of the ones growing on the floor.

"It is eatable?"

“Everything here is edible,” he said cheerfully. “Except me, I guess.”

“Maybe you are, although I think you'd taste quite peculiar,” you said in a soft, teasing voice, hoping he'd catch at least a little of your flirtation.

After everything you had been through at the launderette, as well as the time you had lived together after that, you had become good friends, but little by little you had begun to feel something else blossoming inside you. The boy was handsome, you had realized this from the first moment you saw him, but the more you lived with him you began to realize the great qualities he had. It was much worse when you added to all this the sweetness with which he always treated you and how attentive he was towards everything you wanted.

That's why you threw in some flirtatious comments from time to time, to test the waters, observe his reactions, and thus build an image in your mind to know if you had at least a chance.

“Let's find out,” he said, and your breathing hitched for a moment, but it came out as a chuckle when you saw him lick the back of his hand “Not that unpleasant, though a little salty, I’d say.”

You had to admit that you would have liked to see how your friend tasted differently, but for now you would just let it go. Maybe he was very innocent or maybe he didn't like you.

“What are you working on now? Something new?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your flower. It was delicious.

"Yeah! Actually yes. Now I'm thinking about creating a chocolate whose flavor contains the three meals of the day, so people who don't have much money could buy it and have the pleasure of the three foods. Oh, and I want to expand the sweets to sell in the store, not only chocolates, but also gum, candies, gummies... What do you think about that?

“Sounds like an excellent idea, Willy” you smiled. He separated from you when you reached the edge of the river falling from the waterfall, where he theatrically removed his hat to pull out a cup that he filled with liquid chocolate and then held out in your direction.

"Do you want?”

“I can drink a little,” you replied, while you took the porcelain container with your fingers and took a sip of the contents. There was something special about his chocolates that you still didn't understand, but he made them a thousand times more enjoyable. “Hhm-mmm.”

“All the chocolate is in constant motion, which makes it beat better and taste smoother,” he explained to you, as he got completely excited when it came to talking about the chemistry behind his creations. You noticed that he was looking at your lips and you were about to say something when he spoke: “You have a little… over there.”

"Here?" you asked, stretching your tongue in the direction where he had pointed, but Willy continued to look at you with some amusement.

“No, in… right there, uh… wait” he murmured and seeing your failed attempts to get rid of the stain he took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket “Let me help you.”

Willy took a step towards you and you gasped when one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, as if he didn't want you to move your face. The other, with the help of the handkerchief, gently passed the corner of your lips.

You took the opportunity to look at him carefully, trying to record as many details as possible: some freckles that he had on the bridge of his nose, a trace of facial hair that he probably shaved in the morning, his bushy eyebrows above his beautiful eyes framed by long eyelashes and finally her pink lips that were pressed in on themselves as a sign of concentration. He was so handsome and so close to you that you were getting nervous.

He, unbeknownst to you, had his own swirl of emotions. The skin of your face that he was holding was soft and in that position it would have been enough to lean in a little to capture your lips with traces of chocolate, without you even noticing it and, probably, without you being able to deny it for a moment. But he didn't want to do that to you, he knew it wasn't correct and after all he didn't know if you felt the same way.

He hummed a word to let you know he was done and suddenly the two of you found yourself looking straight into each other's eyes, lost in each other's gaze. Just two fools in love who didn't realize it.

"What are you doing?"

You separated abruptly when you heard the voice of the girl, who had apparently been watching you for a few seconds, and looked at her accompanied by Lofty. Both of them were smirking.

“Huh, she… had some chocolate on her face and I…”

“Willy helped me remove it” you completed. You didn't even understand why you guys were nervous, it wasn't like you guys were doing anything guilty.

“Do you guys want to go see my lab?” Wonka murmured, trying to divert attention from whatever had happened just a moment ago. “You're going to love it. “I’ll even let you make a chocolate if you want, Noodle.”

“Okay,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders, but giving you a look that clearly meant: we'll talk about this later.

When they began to walk, Willy turned for a second to look at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher and then he returned his gaze to the front, just so that you wouldn't see the blush that had painted his cheeks.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

"Talk about what?" you asked absentmindedly, punching your pillow to soften it.

You and Noodle shared a room because you still couldn't find a place to settle and, furthermore, you had been hired at the library so there was no problem for Dorothy with you staying with them.

“Talk about how you and Willy almost kissed.”

“We weren't going to kiss!” you screeched immediately, turning violently to look at the girl.

“Well, that's what it seemed like. He had his hand on your face and you were so close.”

“He was just helping me remove a stain,” you defended yourself, although it was obvious that you had gotten nervous.

What if he had tried to kiss you? you suddenly asked yourself. No, it was impossible.

“But you like him.”

“Noodle,” you squeaked under your breath, “What kind of questions are those?”

“Oh, you like him!” she concluded. For the girl, the fact that you were evading an answer was an answer in itself. “I knew it.”

“You can't tell him,” you said, resigned that the girl wouldn't let the matter go so easily. “You have to promise.”

"Why not? Maybe he likes you too”

“Well, I prefer not to know that,” you lied. It was obvious that you wanted to know, but you were too worried about ruining your friendship with him to do any real research.

"What is it that you like the most about him?"

"Stop"

“I won't tell him!” the little girl said, raising her hands in surrender. “I swear. I just want to know how it feels, I have never fallen in love with anyone."

The excitement in the girl's eyes ended up convincing you to talk to her about your feelings for your mutual friend and after letting out a deep sigh you sat down on the mattress, patting the spot next to your side as an invitation for her to sit too.

“You must swear to me that you will not tell him. Please,” you warned her and she nodded frantically. “I like his eyes.”

“I knew it,” she said again, victorious. “What else do you like about him?”

You thought the real question was: was there anything you didn't like about him?

“I really like that he is so kind to everyone. And I like that he is a dreamer, I like his curly hair and his strange clothes. I like when he’s cordial with me and I also like that he talks so… I don't know, so softly, you know what I mean?” you asked and she nodded excitedly.

Talking about it with someone was, in a way, very liberating and once you started you couldn't stop. You spent a long time talking about him, gossiping about the little moments that you thought meant some sign and listing your fantasies, while your friend listened attentively.

As the words left your mouth, you convinced yourself more that it wasn't just a crush, but that you were actually in love with that boy. And it scared you, to be honest.

“Will you ever tell him? “You would make a nice couple.”

"That's what you think?” you asked amused. You had already attacked a stock of chocolates that Willy had given you when he left the factory. “Well, I don't know, Noodle. If one day the conditions are right and he gives me some sign, I guess so."

The girl laughed to herself and registered her information in her mind, certain that very soon you would receive that signal and she would personally take care of it.

“Willy!” The man listened and when he turned in the direction of the voice, he found the unruly hair of his little friend.

“Darling, hello,” he greeted cordially, while he bent down a little to give her a hug “What brings you here?”

“I had a break at the library and I wanted to come see if you were here,” she smiled. The store was packed with people, as always, but they were in a quiet enough section “And I also wanted to ask for your help.”

“Sure, whatever you want”

“It's about Y/N,” Noodle said. Noticing that the man's posture straightened a little, she smiled victoriously, because the mere mention of your name had already captured his attention “But you must promise not to say anything to her.”

“My lips will be sealed”

“Well, it's about a boy”

There was silence, where Wonka frowned perceptibly. Noodle couldn't be happier.

"A boy?"

“Yes, I think he likes her. He goes to the library every day just to see her and he talks to her for hours and even helps her organize some of her books. You should see them, they are so cute together. And I want to organize a date for them”

“A date?” he screeched. He felt betrayed by the girl, although she clearly couldn't read her mind and therefore she didn't know about her feelings for you.

"Yeah! I want your help because I want you to make some delicious chocolates that will make them fall in love or something like that”

“My chocolates can't make someone fall in love with someone else,” he said immediately, although that wasn't entirely true. “And why do you want her to go on a date with that guy? Does he even treat her well? What does he look like?”

It was evident that he was, to say the least, affected by the information she was giving him. She could almost say there was some anger in his voice. Or maybe it was just jealousy.

“Wow, wow, calm down Willy. I thought this would excite you.”

“Why should I get excited?” he asked, honestly confused. Noodle had the boy right where she wanted him and he wasn't realizing anything. It was perfect.

“Because she's your friend and I thought maybe you'd like to help me get her a boyfriend. I don't know, for her to be happy and all that”

Willy Wonka remained silent. He seemed to be holding something in his chest that he didn't want to let out and judging by the look on his face she believed that even he might cry. Suddenly the girl felt the man's hand take her arm to take her to an even more secluded place, far from all the curious ears.

"She likes him? You know that?"

“I don't know, she hasn't told me anything.”

Lies, pure lies. She clearly knew that you were madly in love with the boy in front of her.

“I can't do you that favor you want,” he ruled. “But could you do one for me?”

"What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be confused. He took a moment before daring to speak.

“Please distract that boy. Don't let him get close to her."

"And why?"

“Because I like her,” he finally breathed out.

Bingo, she had gotten just what she wanted.

"No way! Are you talking seriously?"

“Yes, but you can't tell anyone, do you understand?”

“Well, it wouldn't be any use for me to tell someone if she is in love with that boy.”

“Don't you dare think about it,” her friend whimpered. There was no such thing as a suitor of yours and she felt like laughing, but she stopped herself. “She seems very interested?”

“Well, not that much, but he will be soon if he keeps acting like that with her.” Noodle snorted and then he pursed his lips and cursed under his breath, “Unless…”

"That?"

“No, it's nonsense”

“Tell me,” he asked, obviously distressed. He really liked you and he didn't want there to be a chance of someone else winning your heart.

“Well, I think she might lose interest in him if you tell her what you feel, don't you think?” she argued.

“What if she doesn't like me?”

“You won't know if you don't tell her!” She mumbled, feeling the same frustration she felt when she had that conversation with you. “Listen, you remember the flamingos at the zoo, right?”

"Aha"

“And do you remember that they didn't fly until they knew they could escape? If they hadn't flown, they would still be there. They had to do it to discover that there was a world out there, you know what I mean?”

“I don't think so,” he replied, concerned, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“What I'm trying to say is that you should tell her if you want to know if she feels the same way. And who knows, maybe so” she murmured. If you knew what she was doing you'd probably be strangling her, but she just hoped everything turned out okay.

The man thought seriously for a moment, with his gaze lost as if he were immersed in his own world, and then he looked at the youngest.

“Well, how do I do that?”

Noodle jumped a little with excitement and pulled her friend to her until they reached a place to sit, prepared to talk to him as much as necessary for him to confess his feelings for you. Willy listened very carefully and by the end of the afternoon they already had a small plan drawn up, that with some luck she would be able to unite her two best friends into a perfect couple.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Willy felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest when he started to look for you in the library, after more than a week of his conversation with Noodle, ready to confess what he felt to you that same afternoon or die trying.

He found you in the history section, carrying a stack of books and looking for the right place to put them. Even without trying you looked very pretty and a sigh escaped him at that, while he thought why it had taken him so long to consider telling you how much he felt for you.

“Huh, hello.”

"Hello, how can I help y…? Willy?”

“That's me,” he said timidly.

“How are you?”

“Well, everything is very good” as you left the books on a shelf and approached him you noticed that he was holding a solitary flower in his hand and you asked with your eyes the reason for it “Oh, this one is for you. It's not chocolate, it's just that I saw it on the way and it reminded me of you, because I know that's your favorite color and because... well, because it's pretty."

“Ow, thank you,” you said tenderly, reaching out to take the present and becoming a little embarrassed. “Were you looking for Noodle?”

“No, I wanted to ask you if once you finish you would like to go for a walk to hang out and… chat. The weather is warmer than ever and spring has beautiful sunsets,” he noted. You didn't understand why he seemed so nervous, nor did you know if you were misunderstanding the situation, but you felt your face turn a barely perceptible shade of red.

“I would love to, actually. But I have to cover a shift and…”

“I'll cover it for you,” someone next to you said quickly. It was Noodle, who had seemingly arrived out of nowhere. “You guys go have fun.”

“But your mom…”

“My mom won't say anything. Come on, go” she insisted, pushing you in the direction of the exit. You didn't know what that girl was up to, but you suspected she was up to no good and gave her a warning look.

“Huh, in that case I guess there is no problem anymore. Just let me go to my room to put on some other clothes and I’ll be back, okay?” you said with a smile. You looked at the girl again, as if searching for an answer, but this time she didn't even notice your look, so you went straight to what you needed.

Once there you took the opportunity to comb your hair, put on some cologne, brush your teeth, put on a pretty necklace, and things like that, hoping to look a little prettier for him.

You placed the flower on your shelf with special care and smiled at the boy's kind gesture towards you. When he said that it reminded him of you because it was pretty, was he calling you pretty? God, you hoped so.

Once you returned to where you had left him you noticed that he was waiting patiently in a chair and Noodle was nowhere to be seen, so you announced your arrival and both of you were ready to leave.

“I'm sorry I arrived unexpectedly” was the first thing he said, once you were outside. He wasn't lying, the atmosphere had started to get warmer.

“It's okay, you don't have to worry. I like surprises”

“I hope so,” he said, more to himself than to you.

You walked in silence through some houses and you took the opportunity to admire the landscape, without really knowing where you were going, but with some curiosity.

“Do you want to go to the pier?” he spoke again, because that was one of the destinations you could reach with the route you had taken “The sunset can be seen from there.”

True, he wanted to show you one of those spring sunsets.

"It's a good idea"

“Okay”

Then the man began to talk about something else, to distract his mind and to distract you, and that talk filled the silence of the entire road. When the sea was in front of you, you leaned against a white wooden railing with the sticky salt-smelling air hitting your face. You noticed that the sun had already started to set.

“The sea is huge,” you said suddenly. He leaned next to you, quite close, and this time he looked a little more confident. “Especially when the tide comes in, at this time.”

“Have you ever traveled by ship?”

“No, no,” you responded quickly. “It would be a disaster if I did that. I get dizzy easily and I would be afraid of drowning.”

“You get dizzy at first, but as time goes by you get used to it,” he assured, sounding amused at your response. “It's a good experience.”

“Did you see a lot of sunsets when you were at sea?” you asked, turning to look at him for a second and then returning your gaze to the natural spectacle.

“And sunrises too. The worst were the storms, you would imagine. But in general, there were very beautiful landscapes”

“I bet so,” you smiled. Your hair was blowing in the wind and Willy could only stare at you.

“Although I don't think any of them were as beautiful as you,” he murmured, in a tone so low that you thought you had imagined it.

You were silent for a second, watching the waves crash against the rocks, and then you were able to speak.

“You called me pretty twice today, did you even eat one of those wine-infused chocolates?” you tried to joke, to mask the fact that you were surprised and nervous in equal parts.

“No, it's not that,” he said, with a seriousness that worried you, as you were hoping he would divert the topic. “I really think you're pretty, very pretty actually. But… I mean, that's not the most important thing about you, I don't want you to think that. You were beautiful inside and out, like… your personality. It's brilliant"

“Oh, nonsense.”

“No, I'm serious.”

You could feel the few rays of sunlight that remained, in the distance, hitting your face, and when you looked at him you realized that it reflected a certain golden glow in his eyes. He was precious.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Everything around you took a backseat to the possibility that those compliments weren't just that, but something more, and then he took a deep breath before answering you.

“It wasn't a lie when I said I wanted to talk to you. It's something important to me and... well, I hope you're okay with this, because I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way."

"With what?" you insisted. A part of you told you that you were just misunderstanding everything, that he couldn't be referring to what you believed.

“Well, with the fact that I think you are a great person, that you are charismatic and kind and beautiful and that I like all of that a lot. I like you a lot"

The world stopped for a second and so did your heart. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn't a dream, but it wasn't necessary because you knew that the breeze, the sun, and the sound of the waves couldn't be the work of a dream, just as the boy in front of you who was waiting for an answer couldn't be one either.

"Really?”

“Sure, why would I lie to you?” he expressed, sincerely bewildered. An involuntary smile lit up his face and then your hand went to hold his. It was big compared to yours, and it was warm.

“I don't know where all that came from, but I'm glad you said it. Because I like you too. Like, really a lot” you said shakily, and then he could breathe again.

“You don't know how happy it makes me to know that,” he smiled, while he brought your hand to his lips and gave you a sound kiss. Suddenly his hands went to your waist and he gently lifted you off the floor, giving you a spin in the air that made you laugh. “You like me too.”

“That's right,” you said, overjoyed to know that you were reciprocated. Had Noodle had anything to do with this confession? You knew it most likely was, but you would make sure to question her later.

“I was so nervous that you wouldn't like me.”

“How could I not like you, huh?” You exclaimed, raising your hands to his cheeks to force him to look at you. “You are perfect and even sweeter than your chocolates. Of course I was going to like you."

Willy blushed at the compliment and suddenly leaned in to hug you, hiding from your gaze captivated by him as he felt unworthy of it. You smiled widely while you stood on your tiptoes and let yourself be held tightly, while you saw the sunset in the distance and you left a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering a soft Love ya in his ear, hoping that that moment would remain engraved in your memory and that it was only the beginning of many more.

Noodle, from home, was smiling just imagining what you two would be doing and, in her mind, by this point you might have even kissed.

And while it wasn't like that, either way, watching the sunset in each other's arms was much more romantic and memorable for both of you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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currently-reading-a-book · 2 months

Text

Faux Love, Real Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer must pose as a couple for a mission. However, one question remains: why does he keep calling you 'love'?

Genre: smut

Warning: talking about a criminal case, making out, fake dating (let me know if I forgot something)

Word Count: 882 words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

You blushed yesterday, you blushed today and you most definitely will blush tomorrow. You simply will never get used to his soft voice whispering: “Sorry, love.”

As he calmly brushes past you. You will never get used to his rough hands brushing against your skin from time to time. You will never get used to his soft backrubs or his light kisses against your forehead. Perhaps it’s better this way. If you’re used to his permanent presence your heart would break into two when this mission ends. When all of this ends. Every day you’re hoping that the mission is continued another day, just to be with him. And for a certain time, it did work; until it didn’t anymore.

For more than a year, you have been working in the Behavioral Unit (BAU) department of the FBI. As an aspiring Agent, you are willing to do anything to save people. The team welcomed you warmly, always helping you where they could since you were the youngest member. You feel safe because you know they will always have your back. Yet nothing could have prepared you for your latest mission. The mission where you and Spencer had to fake a romantic relationship. Spencer was a good boyfriend; a fake one sadly.

This unsub is targeting young couples, so the team decided you and Spencer would be the best ones to fit his victimology. Quickly you move into a fake house that isn’t yours; drive a fake car and act like a fake couple deeply in love with each other.

“Are you ready to go to bed, darling?”, shouted Spencer down from your shared bedroom.

It was a comfortable room with a carpeted floor and a large king-size bed. Oh, how you loved this bed; nevertheless, nothing compares to sleeping beside Spencer. Your sleep quality improving enormously. Maybe Spencer has to do with it...

Without answering you went up, already in your pyjamas ready to get a good night’s sleep in. Today you search through lots of recordings in hopes of finding a lead in the case; Spencer of course helping you, but how could anybody read faster than Reid himself? You collapse onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. The slender nerdy boy, with his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, is deeply engrossed in his book. Every now and then, he looks up from his reading, his bright eyes shining with a gentle smile that warms your heart.

“You must be absolutely tired, love.”

“God, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. A strange silence surrounded them.

“Come here,” he opened his arms gesturing her to come closer.

She found herself in a state of confusion, uncertain of what to do next. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards Reid's comforting presence. She knew that cuddling with him would be unprofessional, but his warm embrace felt like a safe haven that she longed to be in. The conflicting thoughts in her mind left her feeling torn and indecisive, so she stayed where she was.

Since she didn’t come closer, he decided to drew closer to her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he whispered against her ears sending shivers down her spine: "You know we have to act like a real couple, you want to catch this unsub, don’t you?”

She gulped silently. Of course, she wanted to catch this motherfucker who’s been killing around D.C., however, all she could think right now was how close Spencer was and how his hot breath felt amazing against her neck.

“Spencer…,” was the only thing she could whisper back.

His hands grip her waist lovingly, bringing her closer to him.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured against her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

Another gulp. Feeling hot all over her body, you tried to think a straight thought, but how can you think rationally when a hot FBI agent's body is nearly pressed against yours? Particularly Spencers hot body.

“Kiss me, Spencer.”

Without a second of hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. Like a starved man, his kiss was impatient and rough, in contrast to the delicate touch of his hands all over your body. You could feel his warm big hands exploring every inch of your body. Oh, how good it felt.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this since day one,” he cursed against your lips before softly biting them. His tongue teased your lips, wanting to enter your mouth. Gently you open your lips and your and his tongue dance together. His soft lips moved their way down to your jaw, then your neck where they stayed for a bit, nibbling at your flesh. You reached for his curls, gripping them which he responded with a moan.

“If I had to act like this stupid fake couple thing again I would absolutely, do it, just to taste your sweet lips, love.” He smiled against your neck.

“Wait,” you pushed him a bit away from you, “you don’t enjoy this fake dating?”

He took a deep breath. Panic started washing over you. Of course, he wouldn't like your back, what do you think?

"No". His angelic voice brought you back from your negative thoughts: “I would like more if we were dating real.”

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anachronisims · 4 months

Text

accountability update/Best Practice Preview

Making the charts and graphs to finally make it clear how ridiculous we all are is taking a bit more time than expected because there is a subset of users that both does and doesn't have pink flashing, and since all insights happen at the margins, I have to dig into this a bit more. Release now expected the first weekend in February.

But: as proof I'm moving along, here's a title card, and the simplest main takeaway from the survey:

IF YOU HAVE "uint LotSkirtIncrease" in your userstartup.cheat, you can safely delete it to help reduce pink flashing.

Explanation: "uint LotSkirtIncrease 36" is equivalent to the in-game "Lot View Distance Extra Large" setting. It was previously thought that it was needed to turn this up to 120 in order to see neighborhood horizons in lot view but is not true (or not true anymore). If your horizon is blinking in or out when your game camera moves, it is not from view distance, it is from graphical glitching - same as if you've ever noticed the reflections momentarily not lining up in Voeille's water when you change the angle.

Having a LotSkirtIncrease over 50 SUBSTANTIALLY burdens the game at a critical stress point: loading any lot. It also overrides your in-game setting so if you were under the impression your setting was Small, Medium, or Large (and some of you were), it was actually Extra-Extra-Extra-Large unless you manually changed it after entering the lot.

Corollary: THE BEST PRACTICE FOR LOT LOADING, i.e., the Lot View Settings Juggling Method (LVSJM)

If you are prone to pink flashing, you should always exit lots (including when you exit the game) with Lot View Distance set to "Small" and Neighbors turned "Off." You may want to save with the game camera zoomed in as far as possible.

When you load a lot and have ascertained it is stable (you can pan the camera without any hiccups/lag/crashing), after 30 seconds, you can turn neighbors back on. 30 seconds later, you can start incrementally turning up the Lot View Distance.

Credit for this tip goes to the users who gave a hot tip on the survey that they only turn Neighbors on for screenshots (they will be named in the final report). We are often prone to thinking of those settings as something static, that we set and forget, but if we treat them as dynamic we can definitely manipulate them to our advantage.

Remember, after playing the lot - OR WHEN YOUR SIMS TRAVEL FROM THE LOT - you should turn the Lot View settings back down and manually save BEFORE the game closes the lot.

IF YOU STILL HAVE PINK FLASHING ON FIRST LOT LOAD/HOOD EXIT, there is further help for you coming in the report, but I don't have time to write it all up now. It's not not complicated but I went from total pink every hood load to virtually none (though I am not immune to crashing) using a combination of all the best practices I will be recommending in the report, and other users saw improvement to overall play session quality and length as well.

#ts2 #pink flashing #pink soup #accountability update

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randombush3 · 1 month

Text

(extremely talented, creative) stalker

alexia putellas x reader

based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.

happy monday people x

p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)

Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media.

She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd.

There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.

So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave.

With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand.

It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail.

Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves.

The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised.

“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her.

Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.”

“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?”

The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist.

“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–”

You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries.

Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them.

Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off?

“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.”

“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly.

“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?”

The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room.

She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display.

“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.”

“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.”

“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot.

“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”

“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?”

You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters.

“I haven’t heard of her.”

Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action.

“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?”

“I know the main four.”

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

“No.”

Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted.

“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position.

“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put.

“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot.

“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.”

And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then.

(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.)

“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.”

“Bedroom?”

The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant.

“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.”

Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?”

“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator.

Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.”

She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected.

You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.”

“Sell wh– The painting?”

“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.”

“You’ve been… flirting with me?”

“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?”

She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated.

Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls.

She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation.

“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.”

You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her.

“Y/n, darling, where are you?”

An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.

The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.

#woso #woso x reader #randombush3 #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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etirabys · 3 months

Text

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

#rambl #orson scott card #eti reads stuff #eti reads the homecoming saga #songmaster #content note: homophobia

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cmoundiamante · 1 month

Text

DO U STILL WANT TO? ✦ L.HS

pairing gamer!hee x afab!reader

summary Begging for your boyfriend's attention was definitely not an option for you, but you managed to adapt him to your needs instantly.

genre smut. established relationship. drabble.

warnings reader has her nails done 💅🏻, dubcon, dom!reader (kinda), pet names (love n whore), oral (f & m receiving), 69, cum eating.

a/n ik the pics does not relate to the pairing of this drabble BUT MY THOUGHTS ABT THSI HEE ARENT HEALTHY AT ALL. ok now think about this, this video is living in my head rent free so i wanted to recreate it with the platinum hee. ALSO TYSM FOR THE 300+ FOLLOWERS IT MEANS A LOT TO ME 😭🩶 english is not my first language so pls be kind (: any correction will be considered, not only to improve reading but also for my learning ^^ enjoy this

wc +1,3k

His League of Legends game was, of course, way more important than you were at the moment.

His room was dimly lit by the LED lights that were stuck to the wall, but the light that illuminated his face was that of the television, which he couldn't take his eyes off for fear of losing the game. He was holding his joystick moving his fingers over it nimbly, and as much as you wanted his fingers to be making that same movement on your clit, you couldn't because your pride forced you to be angry.

Your boyfriend had invited you to his house, at that moment you had the idea that you were going to have quality time. To your bad luck, it wasn't like that, you just kept him company lying on his bed watching his fucking back.

And as much as your blood boiled when you saw him not pay attention to you, it made you kind of horny to see him so focused on his game. Actually, you always did. Heeseung had a severe addiction to video games, so you were used to the fact that whenever you went to his house he would sit there feeding his vice, but he had promised to see a movie, and if possible a night of passion... Three hours had passed since you arrived at his house, and nothing he promised had happened.

But anger and lust were a dangerous combination for you.

Your moves? He felt them, but he didn't pay attention to them. Your noises? He wasn't listening to them, he was wearing his headphones. Your touch? He ignored it too, only laughing as his eyes were still fixed on the TV. You had been touching yourself for 20 minutes in his back, but at some point he turned to look at you? Obviously not.

Your clothes were scattered all over the bed, you were in the middle of the mattress with your legs open trying to give yourself some pleasure by imagining that it is your boyfriend who offered it to you. Seeing him made you feel like that; his freshly dyed platinum hair, his sturdy nose, how his gaze was fixed on the TV in such a sensual way, as the hickeys you had given him last week were still noticeable on his skin. No matter how wet you were appreciating him, it wasn't possible to concentrate, so it was difficult for you to reach orgasm at once.

When you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend, he was finishing his game. Was that enough to get his attention? Nah, he grabbed his phone and with his headphones on, he started watching new versions of his favorite games on Instagram.

You got behind him and gently pulled out his headphones, putting them on the bed, and then hugged him from behind, wanting to feel his body. "What’s up, love?" Your patience was running out and Heeseung didn't notice, or at least because he still didn't look you in the eye.

If he wasn't going to do it on his own, you'd have to force him.

With the worst face you could have at the time, you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back, throwing him on the bed, without warning your legs caught his face, having no chance of escaping. Heeseung was dumbfounded for a few seconds, but it didn't take your words for his tongue to start working on your wet pussy.

He threw his cell phone on the bed and squeezed the flesh of your thighs with his hands, even though he was still amazed at what you had done. If he had known you were like this, he would have left his game in progress in order to fuck you raw until he made you see the stars. His tongue was wetting your entrance even more, mixing his saliva with the juices you created, however you had to pay attention to your clitoris, as his nose wasn't there to make you feel better.

You started whining underneath him, unconsciously jumping on his tongue, almost letting your ass completely suffocate him. Heeseung always told you that if he ever died, he wanted it to be this way.

You opened your eyes, and as soon as you fixed your gaze straight ahead you could see your boyfriend's erection forming under his gray joggers. As much as the fabric bothered you, you massaged it from the top, feeling how it was getting harder and harder. Hee's tongue surprisingly entered you, causing a high-pitched moan to be created by your throat.

You felt good, you felt too good over him , but even better you'd feel choking on your man's huge dick while being eaten by him. So, you put down his joggers and boxers to free his little friend, desperate to be well taken care of by your tongue. You heard a growl coming from Heeseung, which caused your folds to vibrate.

You lowered your torso and your tongue slammed into his dickhead, but Heeseung stopped pleasing you by feeling you, exposing your pussy and giving you a hard spanking, which echoed throughout the room. "Was this what you wanted? You could have told me instead of lying down being naked and quiet behind my back like a whore." Hearing him speak, you didn't hesitate to put his entire length inside your tight mouth just to tease him, seeing how as he spoke his voice was breaking. "Just like that, don't you dare stop, c'mon." Another spanking echoed through the room, you could swear his hand had left a mark.

Heeseung continued with his work on your pussy, which by the sensation of his tongue and how your clitoris hardened before his movements, you already perceived that you were close, however you would hold on, you wanted to come at the same time as your boyfriend.

The precum Heeseung shot was absorbed by you and mixed with your saliva, which helped to suck his hard dick more thoroughly. You felt how a hand gently massaged your head, little by little that hand turned into a fist that held your hair very tightly, pressing down forcing the thrusts and starting a burning in your scalp.

The ease with which his member slipped and the resistance you had to contain it inside your mouth was one of the main reasons why Heeseung didn't last more than five minutes. No sooner said than done, this was the case.

Since you didn't know where to put them, your hands rested on Heeseung's bare hips, burying your long, sharp nails on his soft skin. You knew he had quite sensitive skin, always having the opportunity to mark him as your own, making little effort and having effective results.

You exploded, finally letting all your juices unexpectedly crash into Heeseung's face, while the sounds you made were held back by having your mouth very busy. When you reach your orgasm your mouth tightens as you can't moan properly, causing your boyfriend to also cum without warning inside your mouth.

You unconsciously opened your mouth a little, letting a little of his cum fall off, falling on his hairless pelvis, what was left remained in your mouth, to then be transferred to your throat. "Do you still want to keep playing your stupid ass games?"

Heeseung, on the other hand, was still with his eyes closed, not only because of his recent orgasm, but also because some jets of your squirt had fallen on his eyes. He rubbed them a little and cleared his vision to meet your entrance again, now a little farther away. He could see how the LED lights reflected through the moisture between your legs.

"Of course not, You’re not done with me yet." The hand that was on your ass the whole time, continued to knead your flesh as if it were dough.

“Would you like to ride me? I’ve been such a bad boy, don’t I?”

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #kpop #enhypen recs #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung enhypen #enhypen lee heeseung

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floralcyanide · 1 month

Text

ʙᴏʙʙʏ's ɢɪʀʟ

(joe rantz x fem!reader)

Joe has a major crush on you, but you're Bobby's girl. Or so he thinks.

✣ warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting

✣ word count: 1.4k

✣ author’s note: I wish I had more time to work on this, but I've been busy with work, and a friend has been in town so ): I will definitely post more Joe though. hopefully it'll be better quality lol I just wasn't sure of what to write for Joe specifically so this is sort of a brain dump.

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

Joe Rantz has a major crush on you, but you’re Bobby’s girl- or that’s what he thought.

The first time Joe sees you is when the team meets Bobby, their new coxswain. You had tagged along as you followed Bobby everywhere he went, as he did you. The two of you were as thick as thieves. It made Joe a little jealous because he thought you were attractive, and Bobby didn’t seem like the type to have a girl on his arm all the time. Don’t get him wrong, Joe respects Bobby. But he seemed more focused on other things rather than dating. Joe watched you that whole day when his attention wasn’t on rowing. As the weeks of practice continued, the more the boys got to know you. Plus, the more they improved, the more you cheered them on. You took pride in getting the boys in the boat to do better than before. And the more you pushed them from the dock, much like Bobby did in his seat, the more they showed out for you, especially Joe. Joe would catch you smiling at him, and he’d smile back but would quickly recover. You’re Bobby’s girl.

After the team’s first win, you’re glued to Bobby’s side at the celebratory party. Joe tries to keep his eyes off you and your stunning outfit but fails most of the night. At one point, you separate from Bobby to converse with Don and Chuck for a little while. Then, you find Joe, who is tucked away in the back of the gymnasium. He quickly looked away from you, not to give himself away.

“Enjoying the party?” you ask, nursing your punch glass.

“Not really my scene,” Joe shrugs.

“Oh,” you nod, “What is your scene, then?”

“The library, usually. Or the boat, of course.”

“I’d say so. You’re great at rowing. I love watching you all.”

Joe blushes at that, “I’m glad.”

Suddenly, Bobby pulls the needle off the record player on stage, forcibly introducing Don as the live music for the night. You and Joe watch, amused, as the boys shove Don across the stage and to the piano bench. Don dug his heels into the stage floor the best he could, to no avail. He nervously looks out at the crowd before beginning to play.

“Wanna dance?” you ask Joe.

He hesitates for a moment before answering, “Sure.”

The two of you dance along to the music, singing along as well. Joe tries not to let himself get too deep in his head about how close you are to him. You sense this, trying not to get too handsy despite your inner desire to. You leave room between the two of you for it to be casual. When the song ends, you kiss Joe on the cheek and go to find Bobby. Joe’s cheek burns the rest of the night as he reaches up to brush his fingers across it a few times. He wanted to make sure what had happened was real.

Bobby encourages you to tag along with the team to the East Coast. This race was significant for the boys and would throw them off if you weren’t there. Bobby especially- Joe even more. On the train there, you sit with Bobby. You’re mid-conversation about the paper he’s reading when suddenly, Joe lunges at Chuck. You hurry to stand from your seat and pull them apart, following Joe to the other side of the train when he hurries away from the group.

You stand there momentarily as Joe catches his breath, his face beet red.

“What was that all about?”

Joe brushes you off, not making eye contact. You sigh and sit next to him.

“Chuck probably didn’t mean it like that, Joe,” you put a hand on his shoulder, “Even if he did, you know his jokes are shit anyway.”

Joe cracks a smile at that, glancing over at you without moving his head, “Yeah.”

Before you can say anything else, Chuck comes to apologize, and you get up and leave them to it. When you return to your seat, Bobby is smirking knowingly.

“What?” you ask, already knowing what’s gonna come out of his mouth.

“Nothing,” Bobby says, returning his eyes to the paper he was still reading.

“Just say it,” you sigh.

“You guys should kiss already.”

You snort, “I don’t think Joe likes me like that, Bobby.”

“It’s so obvious,” Bobby slams his paper down on his lap, “He’s so obvious, you’re so obvious. Just get together!”

But of course, it’s not that easy. Joe keeps his distance, so you keep yours out of respect for him.

Securing the win to head to the Olympics meant preparing to go to Berlin. So, training and practice is never-ending. The stress is, too, and it bleeds into you and Bobby’s usually chill dynamic.

Everyone had already left the gymnasium except Joe one day after strenuous practice. He decided to piddle around for a little while. He had nowhere else to be, anyway. Joe sees you and Bobby getting into it by the boat and hangs back to eavesdrop.

“You have got to get your head in the game, Bobby! Stop worrying about everything else and keep your focus on the team.”

“It’s kind of hard when he’s making mistakes because he can’t stop thinking about you. It’s becoming a problem, and I think you need to fix it.”

Joe’s ears perk up at that. He couldn’t possibly be talking about him, right? That’s when you shove Bobby into the water. You wish he’d realize it isn’t that easy to solve.

Bobby resurfaces, pushing his hair from his eyes, “You bitch!” he squeaks in shock.

You start laughing like a maniac at his expression, and Joe is left wondering what is really going on between you and Bobby.

“What’s going on here?” Joe steps out, walks to the dock, and offers Bobby a hand from the water.

“Typical sibling banter,” you wave Joe off.

“Sibling?”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m Bobby’s adopted sister.”

Joe’s face is one of shock. Bobby is behind the blonde, keeping him from throwing you into the water next.

“Makes sense now,” Joe chuckles, blocking Bobby, “If I were you, I’d skedaddle.”

You make a run for the gymnasium quickly, Bobby trailing just a little behind. Joe shakes his head, relieved that you aren't Bobby’s girl. From then on, he paid more attention during practice now that he wasn’t plagued with thoughts of you and Bobby together.

The Olympics come quickly, and you’re nearly as nervous as Bobby. Berlin is an interesting sight, considering every surface is covered in Nazi propaganda. You can sense Bobby’s nervousness about it and try your best to ease him. Being someone of Jewish descent in a place like this was not easy. Don isn’t doing too well health-wise when you all arrive and skips out on the opening ceremony. You watch the USA walk with pride from the stands, your eyes on Joe the whole time.

You’re a ball of nerves during the qualifying race, but of course, that goes away when Bobby pulls his magic stunt, and the boys win yet again, making an Olympic record. You’re beyond proud and can’t wait for how they compete for Gold.

The day comes for the final race, and when Bobby starts off delayed, your heart jumps out of your body. You’re on pins and needles the whole time, urging the boys to push. When the results of who won aren’t immediately apparent, you hold your breath and hope and pray, even, that your boys won. And sure enough, the USA takes the gold. You shoot up from your seat, cheering louder than anyone else around. When you finally are able to meet up with the team, you slam into Bobby full force in a bone-crushing hug.

When you pull away, Joe immediately approaches you and wraps his arms around you.

“You did it!” you grin.

“We did it,” Joe smiles, “But we couldn’t have done it without you and Bobby.”

You and Joe stare at each other momentarily, and Joe seems to be deep in thought about something.

“Just kiss me, Joe,” you blurt, your arms still around his neck.

Joe throws caution to the wind and kisses you in front of the whole world, finally able to breathe with you pressed against him. The boys cheer, and Bobby stands there with his arms crossed, shaking his head with a smile. Finally, you have taken your leap of faith. But you were a stubborn Moch, after all.

#joe rantz #the boys in the boat #joe rantz x reader #joe rantz x you #joe rantz x y/n #joe rantz fanfiction #joe rantz fanfic #joe rantz fic #joe rantz imagine #the boys in the boat fanfiction #the boys in the boat fanfic #callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fic #callum turner imagine #floralcyanide writes

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ssspringroll · 7 months

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DL (sfs, no ads)

The originals have been revamped. All meshes have been completely redone from scratch. I have fixed some chunkiness, wobbliness, and other strange issues that have been present in the originals since 2019. I also went ahead and made at least 1 new shape for each family while I was at it (plus a bonus shape for Classic that I made as a personal edit, years ago, and forgot about until now)

You may notice a folder labelled 'OLD VERSION' when you click on the download link. These are the original 2019 files, and they are still available if you prefer or need them for any reason whatsoever. You can have both editions in your game at the same time. Any sims wearing the old version will have to manually update to the new ones once you install them.

They are available on the following slots:

Acne

Brow Scar (Occult Brow)

Face Birthmark (NEW!)

Forehead Crease

Hat

Right Brow Ring

You can have any combination of the slots installed in your game, or all of them at once (there is an all slots merged package for your convenience, in this case). If you have multiple slots installed, you can mix and match different antennae on different slots to make your own unique combos!

So what's new?

All the meshes have been remade to look a little smoother, while still staying as close as humanly possible to the shape of the originals.

They have all LODs now!

The placement of the UV maps has changed as well, and as you may be able to see from the Irked images, they can pick up some patterns from your sims' faces now in addition to just colors! (They can all do it, but on my models, Irked is the only shape that really demonstrates this. Play around with antenna/skin overlay combos and see what you get!)

There are also better weights now! The longer antennae especially, as seen below the cut, needed improved weighting. They bend with the body now, instead of clipping through it so much. But, there will still be come clipping issues on larger sims and in some animations. There's only so much I can do

And, perhaps the biggest quality of life improvement, they only take up 1 thumbnail spot in CAS. Simply change the swatches as though you were changing colors to access all of the unique shapes!

Some before/afters and additional previews of longer shapes below the cut

#my cc #ts4cc #s4cc #sims 4 cc #sims 4 alien #sims 4 occult #sims 4 cas

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xcrust · 4 months

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Paint the Town Red [PREVIEW]

I seriously haven't written due to having an education but for my story i want to give you improvement and quality content. So I am not making you all wait too long here is a preview of the next chapter. If there is anything that you feel is needed and note you would want to offer then i would love for you to throw it my way

FULL STORY HERE

All the latest chapters and previous is at that link!!!

Looking between the mirror in front of you, reflecting In the soft glow of dawn's embrace, (Y/n) stood before the ornate mirror that adorned her room. The morning sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a warm radiance upon them as they examined her reflection. It wasn't the typical admiration one might associate with vanity; rather, it was an introspective gaze that transcended the surface.

As they lifted a lock of hair, the sunlight or rather the glimmer caught the subtle highlights, reminiscent of the glimmers of hope that had guided them through the darkest nights. The relationship between their parents isn't inherently bad. But the isolating feeling never evolved or made anything better. This dark world was something that was all you knew. Inherently when it came to your view of humans it had to be a little different from your older sister. All humans are made corrupt. No matter the family a person is raised from. Though what allows hell borns to be condemned to whatever flock shows up. It is a harsh ideal but with so much bad coming from earth then how could someone even have a belief that earth is all that good when it's corrupting the supposed bad.

Nevertheless the people that showed up from earth kept the seven rings entertained the more time went on. In fact if it weren't for earth then you wouldn't be in the situation that you are now. You couldn't remember the last time you had dinner with your parents, Family dinners hadn't been a thing in a long time. So sitting across a little table of a cafe with the infamous radio demon for dinner is the last thing that would have been imagined in your life.

“So my dearest! I want to know everything about you and what makes you tick” Closing your new pocket mirror you glance at him before going to pick at your clothes, the bunny painted in red stares at you with a charming look in his eye.

“Alastor, you're going all out for a person like me. But what is it that you want.” curiosity might have killed the cat but in hell its survival of the fittest. Between you and him, that's an easy feat for you but survival in getting higher in the food chain? Well that's some grounds you need to work on.

“ Heavens me, or should I say hells me? HA can't a guy get to know another fella?” His burgundy pinstripe suit made your weakness to elegant things. In your heart you are truly someone that cannot be so easily deterred by another. If leaving the Morningstar household didnt prove it. Maybe working on social skills might be the first thing to work on.

“Who are you kidding? What?! Did you want to talk to my dad? Sorry to best your bubble but i'm making a nam-”

“Hush now” he quipped in “now what are you assuming on today” taking out a pocket watch from his top pocket. The ticking being comically loud. Being in hell should have you used to an odd face every once in a while. But looking at him felt like a lost cartoon. “As ive said before, i know nothing about you. You've just got a nifty little… look to you” There goes his smile again. It's so shameless.

“Yeah right” Being hell royalty should've put your name towards everyone that walks this street.

“Sorry doll face, having such a smooth face in this area of town might just be the most interesting piece of plot in these parts” you let out a sudden hitch in your breath. Does he actually not know anything about you? Maybe the overlord title might be a lot harder than intended. “Now doll you're never fully dressed without a smile, now play nice” The grimace on your face might’ve just drowned in your thoughts hearing him say that.

You couldn't make sense of his statement. An earthborn being known to you and probably the purest kind of entertainment in hell. Though if he didnt even know who you were then maybe this could be a better opportunity in the end. No phony respect. Something that would actually make a difference to yourself. Smoothing your expression into soft passiveness.

“Say there, bunny tail, how about you and I take a stroll down the boulevard and paint the town red”

“Aren't you a tough nut to crack? Well who am I to deny a bona fide high roller”

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