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around1302 · 1 year

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XVII. YOU HAVE ME

SPARE PARTS: a series (17/20)

BOLOGNE, ITALY

(W) strong language, family restraints, alcohol use, fingering

good lord this has taken me some time to finish. i’m so sorry, life just got in the way. hopefully 4.3k of a smidge of angst and a fuck-ton of fluff makes up for it!

HARRY’S POV

“What’s the move for tonight?”

“You can do what you want, I’m taking Charlie out.”

Niall’s usual grin twists into a smirk, his eyes glinting. I resist the urge to roll my own.

I am taking Charlie out. Not that she necessarily knows that yet.

I don’t mean to sound like a desperate man, but I need Charlie and I to move on like I need air. I can feel her warming to the idea of me, but at the end of the day she still just sees me as her annoying bandmate who’s up to giving her an orgasm or two.

I need to be more than that to her. I can’t be either nothing or just her temporary fix.

And if there’s one thing that’s apparent about Charlie, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. She doesn’t crave sneaking around and fleeting glances and meaningless moments. I’ve seen her face light up more from seeing a couple holding hands in public than when I’ve been literally going down on the girl.

In fact, in the time I’ve known her, she’s only ever dated one person – Zayn, which is also why this could get messy.

(But fuck him. I was there first).

“I’d love to say I’m surprised about this whole thing, but I’m really not.” Niall snorts.

I narrow my eyes, but before I can ask anymore questions, the guys barge into Niall’s suite.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Horan. You have it fancy in here.” Louis gawks far too loudly for the fancy establishment we’re in, but I have to say, I share the sentiment. We all have nice rooms (it’s the most expensive hotel in Bologne, for God’s sake) but Niall managed to bag da Vinci’s fucking shrine.

Niall shrugs, sitting up with that mischievous flicker in his eyes.

“Lia still out?”

“Yeah,” Liam explains, “she’s dragging Charlie and Zayn round the shops. Tried to rope us in but we managed to escape.”

My chest tightens. I force it to relax.

Liam throws his legs up on the Ottoman, stretching out. After the show last night, we’re all exhausted. After nearly four months of touring, non stop performing and the consequential non stop partying, we’re all wiped the fuck out. It’s why Niall and I said no to their little day trip around Italy. To put it frankly: I can’t be arsed with the tourism shit when there’s a mini bar five feet away from me up here.

“Good,” Niall reaches behind him, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” I spit.

“This, my friend,” Niall flicks the box open. My suspicions are confirmed, “is about to get me the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Holy shit.” Louis grabs the diamond, making Niall fly up and snatch it back.

“For real?” Liam stands too, while I’m still sat in shock.

“Why I got this fancy suite,” Niall’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas, “want to do it tonight. Italy’s always been her favourite place and I figure–”

“You’re twenty-one.” “Twenty-two this year.”

I scowl. Niall’s cheeky grin droops.

“Oh come on, man. Who cares how old we are? I know I’m gonna be with this girl till I’m all old and gross and grey, why not seal the deal now?”

“Because it’s insane!” I splutter. I’m not angry. Am I? Why am I angry?

“Hardly,” Louis sharply laughs, “they’ve been basically married since they met.”

“Okay, but being basically married and being actually married are two very different things.”

“Dude, don’t you think I know that? I have thought about this, you know.”

My jaw tightens.

My best friend is about to propose to his girlfriend, and I can’t say I’ve ever even had one. The girl I’ve been in lo– whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can narrow my anger down to one, ugly thing: bitter fucking jealousy.

So, I do the mature thing; I storm out.

Luckily for me, the second I step out into the hallway – all heaving chest and unnecessary frustration – Charlie, Amelia and Zayn bump into me. They’re all laughing about something, a million shopping bags between them.

“Oh, hey man–” Zayn starts, but I cut him off by grabbing Charlie’s waist and pushing her in the direction of my room. The sliver of skin given to me below her crop top sends a spike through my spine.

I don’t care that Zayn is probably about to start quizzing Amelia to no end, all I care about is the universe quite literally handing me the only person I want to talk to right now.

“Yo, what the fuck?” She twists, staring at me with what I assume is a mixture of vexation and confusion, but I’m too busy staring ahead to notice. Charlie doesn’t make a move to escape my grip (something I know she’s more than capable of doing), so I keep walking us to my room.

I messily scan my keycard and grab her shopping, setting it down as carefully as I can in my haste before closing the door with her body.

There’s something else I want to do before talk.

But, I hesitate for a moment, brushing my lips against hers. I silently ask for permission, pulling her toward me so her lower back lifts from the door and our torsos press together. She hesitates, too. Brushing her nose against mine before kissing me with as much urgency as I got her into the room with.

I sigh into her mouth, completely wrapping my arms around her back to hold her flush against me. “Missed you,” I mumble against her lips, trailing my hand up to hold the back of her head. I rake my fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail.

“Missed you too.” She gasps, looping her fingers through my belt hooks.

I nearly let myself smile, but then she palms me over my jeans.

Quickly, I hold her wrist, preventing me from dragging her to bed and insisting we don’t leave my hotel room all night. “Go out with me.” I let the words tumble like a subconscious spill, letting my chest do all the work so my brain doesn’t have to.

Frowning, she pulls back. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want to rewind and let her do whatever she wants with me. Why the Hell did I–

“Go out with you?” She’s smiling. She’s smiling.

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heating. I’m getting shy, for fuck’s sake. I don’t do shy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said those four words over the years, and I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve said it to. I don’t recall nerves ever being a factor in that habit.

“You realise I’m a sure thing, right?” She cocks her head, and I want to kiss the faint dimple that pops beside her lips. I settle for her bottom lip.

“I want to take you out.” I pull her lip between my teeth, bathing in the way she sighs. “Properly.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Nope,” I pop. I need to banish this shy thing. Fuck the shy thing. I realise our proximity might have something to do with that, so I step away, flicking the light on so I can see her properly.

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are dark and her hair is mussed and– and shit. I’m so gone on this girl. She folds her arms across her shirt, and that’s when I notice the shirt. It’s my shirt – the one I gave her weeks ago, the band she claims to hate, the shirt I’ve dreamt about fucking her in ever since.

The shirt which now rests just below her bra.

“Oh,” she clocks my thought process – probably because I’m staring at her chest – and fumbles with the messy hem. “Shit, sorry. I never even asked if you wanted it back–”

“Never.” I murmur.

A pause. “What?”

I blink back to reality, back to her eyes. “I never wanted it back,” I clear my throat, try and regain some conviction, “the band sucks anyway.” I wink, she chuckles.

God, maybe we should just stay here. We could order room service and continue our theme of fucking in hotel showers and spend all night getting sweatier and sweatier in between the sheets and–

No! No. I need to take her out.

“Be ready by seven.”

I bend to pick up her shopping, handing it back. Charlie takes the bags slowly, looking at me like I just told her my name’s actually Bill.

Then, softly, nearly meekly, she whispers, “I thought we had rules?”

My lungs stop working. “We did. We do.”

Right – I’m not even considering her right now. I know what I want, and I know I want it badly. I need to learn I can’t just demand this. Sure, I’ve waited six years, but she sure as shit doesn’t know that.

Patience is a bitch.

She looks at me, scrutinising, studying. I want to read her mind, it seems to all work so complicated up there. A million bolts and cogs working tirelessly; I’d give it all up for just a peek.

“I suppose I’d be pretty stupid to deny we’re at least friends at this point, right?”

I can breathe again. “Right.” I rush to say.

“So… dinner as friends. Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” No, fuck no. “Bonding time.”

She purses her lips, seemingly amused. Nodding, she swivels from the door, palm wrapped around the handle and about to let me stand in my room and punch the air but…

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out first?”

Her eyes flicker accusingly at my crotch. Specifcally, my hard on, from just kissing the girl.

It’s like I’m fucking fifteen again.

I snort, pushing my tongue against my cheek to stop the habitual impulse to say something inappropriate. I want to scream yes, God, yes but I can’t. Charlie’s like some kind of kryptonite – one handjob will turn into one blowjob will turn into round after round after round.

“I’m good, love.”

Charlie scowls. “You’re really just going to try every nickname in the book, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, sweet pea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she swings the door open, so before it slams behind her I shout a reminding,

“Seven!”

And then I stand in my room, and punch the air.

“Jesus, Styles, this place is fancy.”

I smirk. “Only the best for a princess.”

“Hey–”

“I’m kidding! Here,” I let go of the small of Charlie’s back to pull her chair out for her, “sit, before you hit me.”

“I can still reach you from over here.”

I playfully roll my eyes as I take my seat. She definitely can. I made sure to get us a table hidden away, close enough for our legs to accidentally tangle and far enough away from anyone else Charlie doesn’t need to worry about people.

She’s always panicked about mobs. The first one was pretty traumatic I guess, and ever since she’s been the overly cautious one in public. Never seen without heavy glasses and an even heavier hoodie, so I made sure she wouldn’t be spending our first date (that is what I’m declaring that is, friends or not) in fear.

It’s not conceited if saying your name for a last minute res at one of the most established restaurants in Bolonge works. Fame has it’s perks, I’m allowed to admit that.

… I think.

Within a few seconds, a waiter comes over with a bottle of red I preorded on the phone. Charlie leans back, looking at me quizzitivley as he pours us both a glass and leaves the rest between us. We thank the waiter, and I gauge her reaction.

A pause. My heart awaiting a beat.

“I’m impressed.” She raises her brows, a glimmer of a smile on her rouge lips.

“Good,” I lift my glass, clinking it against hers before we both take a sip.

I let my eyes properly roll over her for the first time since I met her outside the hotel. It was too dark and too much of a rush to the car for me to drink her in, and God. She looks fucking edible. She’s wearing a strapless dress that lets my wind wander to every inch of skin I can kiss with her still in the thing – but, Jesus, stop.

Tonight isn’t about that.

Quiet falls on us, because, well. What do we talk about if not for the security of sex or argument, if not for the safety net of anyone else around us? Here, we’re uninterrupted. In fact, no. We’re not anything.

We’re two people on a first date. We’re fresh.

“You know,” Charlie chuckles to herself, setting her glass down and leaning on her palms, “I love trying to figure out the other people at restaurants like this. Like, okay, that couple,” she nods behind me, so I try and turn as discreetly as I can. She hits my leg. “Don’t be so obvious!” She hisses behind a smile.

I’ve just gone and made things worst myself by taking Charlie out, haven't I?

“That couple is on their first date, and he’s trying to figure out how to leave.”

“And how do you know that, Sherlock?”

Charlie shrugs and leans back to take another sip.

“I know people. He’s fidgeting like crazy, looked at the bathroom like five times in the past thirty seconds. For sure planning his escape.”

“Or he just really needs a shit.”

Charlie snorts into her glass, spraying wine onto her cheeks. I guffaw, and both of us fall into laughter too loud for an establishment like this. “Fuck, my makeup.” Charlie taps at her cherry stains aimlessly, so I lean across with my napkin.

“Here, hold still,” I chuckle, pinching her chin between my fingers and trying to get as much grapejuice from her face. In the midst of the scene, our waiter returns.

“Are you… oh.” He clears his throat, and we pause to look up.

“We might need a few more minutes.” I mumble. Charlie grins sheepishly.

Yeah, okay, maybe it is conceited – but thank God we do what we do, because judging by the compressed scowl on the guy’s face as he leaves us, we were one 0 in our bank accounts away from being kicked out.

As I’m wiping at her face, our eyes lock, and the words tumble out before I can think about what I’m saying.

“Niall’s proposing to Amelia.”

She gasps. I sit back.

Silence holds us, until a slowly whispered, “shit,” punctures it.

“Yeah.”

I see her reach for her wine. Then she downs it.

“So I told my mum Gemma was a drug dealer. Of course my mum was like, Harry, she’s nine. But it was the worst thing I could come up with at six years old.”

Charlie throws her head back at the story of myself and my sister, one of my favourite memories to relay. I stab my fork in my pasta and try and muffle my grin as Charlie giggles away.

“I never thought you’d be the type to take WWF wrestling so personally.”

I shrug. “I was a dedicated fan. I still refuse to believe it’s staged.”

Her laughter dies, and she gets this sort of gone off look in her eyes. Like she’s thinking about something, someone, and then it hits me – I’ve been sat here reeling off stories about my sister without any regard for the fact she no longer has hers.

“You know,” she shifts, eyes dropped to her plate. She pushes a piece of broccoli around with her silverware, chewing on her lip. Then, her voice gets quiet, small, when she admits, “I don’t think my parents have called me one time this whole tour.”

She chuckles to herself, but it’s void of any humour.

“They did their usual prayer for my safety before I left, and rang to see if I had changed my mind, but…”

I dip my head to meet her eye. She looks up at me, meekly. Like tears are threatening to spill but she’s using every muscle to hold them back. I’m so terrible in situations like this, I never say the right thing because, truthfully, people don’t often open up to me.

(Not like this, at least.)

So, I go with my gut, and pray it doesn’t betray me.

“Pretend I’m your parents.”

Charlie piques. “What?”

Confidence begins to slip from me, evident in the way I mess with my hair and twist my rings beneath the table. “Pretend I’m your parents,” I repeat – despite the out she just gave me.

“This apart of that daddy kink you were talking about?” She smiles smally.

“No,” I lilt. “Tell me about tour. Look,” I sit up straight, bringing my hair forward and cracking my neck. Getting into character. I lift my hand to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hi sweetie, how’s tour going?”

Charlie snorts. “That supposed to be my mum?”

“I’ve never met the woman, go with it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she sits up and lifts her hand, too.

“Hi mum. It’s fine.”

“Fine? Come on, you’ve been away for months.”

She sighs, giving me that look through those lashes. I lift my brows.

“It’s been amazing, actually.”

I smile. We’re getting somewhere.

“Everyone really likes our album,” she continues, “and I started banging the one with long hair you always tell me I need to stay away from.”

“Heey,” I drop the ‘phone’. She looks pointedly at my hand. I raise it again.

She heaves a breath, her expression stone again.

“I wish you’d try and understand my job a little more. I think you’d see what I’m doing is actually really cool if you took the time.”

My chest aches. I knew Charlie had a strained relationship with her parents, I just never knew why. They’d never come to shows, she would never mention them. I don’t even remember them sitting with her at Poppy’s funeral.

Maybe when Charlie blamed herself for her sister’s death, her parents did too.

“You were wrong, by the way.”

I got so lost in my own anger I forgot we were doing this.

“Wrong?” I ask.

“About the dude with long hair. He’s actually alright.”

I couldn’t let this night end.

We practically got kicked out of the restaurant when we wound up being the last two in there, and then we stumbled our way to my hotel room and have been laid on the bed giggling over nothing for the last hour.

Red wine is strong shit.

So far, I’ve learnt Charlie hates the colour purple, secretly loves 90s horror and sometimes worries she made a mistake by going to that audition six years ago.

“I just want a dog, y’know?”

“You can have a dog.” I laugh.

“No, no,” she flips, her hair messily cascading her shoulders as she hovers above me. I let the wine guide my hand, tucking a strand or two behind her ear. She leans into my palm. “I want a dog, and a spouse, and a kid.”

I caress her cheek, and then she lays her face completely on my chest. I freeze, watching in awe as she shifts so her legs hang off the bed and her head is on the spaces were my shirt gives way to my skin. Charlie tilts her head, closing her eyes when my fingers find home on her scalp.

I just want this, I want to scream.

“What?”

Fuck. Wait. Did I not think that?

The domestic bliss lasts all of ten seconds before she’s sitting up again.

I’m at a loss for words. I’m sure she’s going to leave, that I just fucked up this whole night, but then she’s climbing a top of me. My hands instinctively fly to her thighs, holding her close through the silk while she assesses me from above, her hair a curtain.

“You want friends with benefits forever? That’s your end goal?” She sounds amused, so I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I want to shout, is that all I am? Even after today, after everything?

I’m better at holding in my thoughts this time, though.

“You really think we can ever be friends?”

Then, she sighs and straightens. Her hair no longer tickling my neck.

“Jesus, you’re confusing. I thought that was why you took me out in the first place!”

This girl will be the death of me.

“Okay, Charlie,” I sit up, gripping her waist to pull her against me. I feel her chest huff out against mine in three quick, fluttering motions. “Let me be crystal clear,” I cradle her face, now, just brushing her bottom lip. She leans into my touch again, and I feel every ounce of self-doubt fade away with the sigh she lets out. I knock my nose against hers.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Charlie rushes to say, “You have me,” whilst fisting at my shirt.

As much as I want that to be true, I know she doesn’t believe those words in the same way I want to believe them. So, I stifle a breathy chuckle, shaking my head.

“I don’t think I do.” My throat stutters at the word baby. I haven’t tried that one out yet.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlie looks genuinely confused, which I suppose is the problem. The problem I created. I pull back, sinking into her brown eyes till I’m sure I’ve turned to stone. All I’ve wanted for the last six years is to hear Charlie say those words: you have me. Yet, in this moment, I realise I’ve gone about all of this completely wrong.

“I want a redo.” I barely whisper, insecure in my words.

“A redo?”

I quickly lick my lips. “Of everything.” I thumb at her jaw. “I fucked it all up, Charlie.”

“Fucked what up?” She deadpans, clearly tired of my inexplicability.

“You. Me. Us. This.”

Charlie shorts out a huff, as if she’s finally got it.

“We didn’t know this would end up happening–”

“I knew.”

I let my confession barrel before me. If I scare her off, then fuck it. I scare her off. But she needs to know. She needs to know that,

“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen and you shouted at me for being late to our first recording. I knew the minute you stood there in your stupid scarf and your even stupider boots that I was going to have it bad for you and I’ve not known what to do with it since.”

Charlie looks startled, but she’s unmoving from my lap, so I take it as a sign to keep going.

“I thought that you’d always hate me,” my throat swells, “so I’ve been a prick to you and I… especially after Zayn, I just didn’t…” I shake my head, looking down, losing myself.

It’s the wine, that’s all that’s fuelling this sudden, dumb confession. The wine and the fact that right now my best friend is probably engaged. But, then...

Charlie lifts my chin.

Charlie hesitates.

Charlie’s eyes flick back and forth between mine.

Charlie kisses me.

I kiss back with force, pouring everything I couldn’t say into her lips. I hold the back of her head, moaning against her tongue as she pushes me back to the pillow and grips my shirt so hard it pulls nearly painfully against my back.

And then she stops.

“Zayn told me after Amsterdam he loves me.”

Just found the quickest way to kill a boner.

“Oh.” Is all I can say, apparently.

“But I don’t…” she trails off, her eyes dropping to my lips. “I don’t love him.”

“Okay.” I whisper.

My insides are having a fucking party, right now.

“That doesn’t mean I love you.” She rushes to clarify. I smile.

“I know.”

“But you are the first person I think about when I wake up. And when I go to sleep. And while that’s confusing because most of the time you piss me off, you don’t seem to do that anymore.”

I try not to sound so excited as I respond. “At all?”

“I mean, don’t push it.”

I chuckle, brushing her hair from her face. But then a dreadful pit starts to hole its way through my stomach, and I have to ask,

“You’re not just saying this because you want a dog?”

Charlie smiles against my lips. “I want you, Harry.” One sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m not thinking about the dog right now.”

I lean up to kiss her, flipping her onto her back. My hand slips under her dress, and her breath hitches. “Good,” I breathe against her mouth, rubbing her over her knickers. Her gasp travels to the back of my throat, and I swallow it, keep it, store it, run it over and over in my mind as I push her pants to the side and curl my middle finger in her.

“Stay the night?” I ask, adding my index finger.

“Oh,” Charlie moans, her head tipping back. I kiss her throat, “yes.”

“Yes, you’ll stay the night?” I nip at her neck, losing myself in vanilla and Merlot.

“Yes, Harry,” she pulls my face up, “just assume from now on I will always– fuck, stay the night.”

I grin. Her nails dig into my nape as I pull my fingers out and rub her clit.

“God, like that,” she breathes as I push my finger down harder, tuning myself to every gasp and moan she gives me. I kiss her through her orgasm, muffling her cries with my mouth despite wanting the entirety of Italy to hear how pretty she sounds when she comes.

“Always so good for me, baby.” I murmur, gripping her thigh as I shift my weight and move her core to my own thigh, still covered by the overpriced trousers I asked Amelia to find for me. She bucks her hips, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth. I whimper.

“Baby,” she breathes questioningly. “I like that one.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#spare parts series #harry styles series #one direction series #harry styles x oc #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #1d series #1d ot5 #1d smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles friends with benefits #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #one direction smut #one direction #one direction ot5 #ot5

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deadfishisyeq · 5 months

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Ive thought of an au where bolas is an actual cult, they worship the goddess of death and live in the woods near a neighbourhood on the outskirts of the city

They are known as the Rojas Cult (or Bolas Rojas but most people refer to them as the Rojas Cult because it sounds less stupid).

Philza, the leader, (they call him the Crowfather when they want to be edgy) knows the goddess of death personally and can pass through to her world freely. Both him and the goddess of death think that messing around with cults and murder is fun, they are literally just messing around. Phil didn't want it to go as far as it did but he isn't exactly complaining either.

After the death of Charlie's daughter, he had a dream where the goddess of death visited him with Juanaflippa and then she told him that she could keep bringing his daughter back if he just did a few small things for her. Those small things got bigger and bigger and caused Charlie and Mariana to get more and more distanced from each other because Charlie kept burning things that were more and more valuable. Eventually, he met Phil and they went out into the wooss together.

Jaiden's a pretty normal woman if you ignore the shrine to her dead son. After Bobby died, the goddess of death brought Bobby to see her and asked Jaiden what she would give up for Bobby. Jaiden said anything, she said she would give up anything for him and so the goddess took that and told her to make a shrine, to sacrifice something to that shrine every day by placing the item on the shrine and then letting a few drops of blood fall on it. Jaiden did this in secret for a month or so before she met Phil. She was led into the forest and is having so much fun!

Cellbit is a serial killer on the run. Well, actually, he managed to escape Brazil where he was wanted with some random guy, two of the people he escaped prison with and the security guard he thought he killed in prison. Either way, he made it to where he is now and- Yep! They adopted a child as a group because Pac thought he was cute and refused to give him up! Aside from that, Cellbit is a pretty normal guy until the government realises it's him and tries to arrest him. He ends up in the woods and meets Bolas Rojas. Charlie and Phil know nothing about him but Jaiden saw some stuff about him online and invited him to join them. Jaiden even lets him live in her and Roier's house when he isn't living in the woods. Bolas Rojas actively makes him worse and he's entirely willing to kill for the sake of the goddess.

They are all entirely convinced that Carre was sent by their goddess. He appeared one day with nothing, no one knows who he is or why he's here but they love him. He also randomly disappears from time to time. Phil isn't entirely sure what's up with him but goes with what the group thinks because it's easier that way.

Baghera's a pretty normal woman if you ignore her entire childhood and the way it's affected her entire life and the fact that if she tells anyone, she will die. But other than that, she adopted a child with some of her friends and moved somewhere nicer with them. She was visited by the goddess of death, who told her that she could protect Baghera, she could ensure her and her child's safety for eternity just as long as Baghera gave up someone's blood every day. It could even be her own blood if she wanted to do that. Eventually, she met Jaiden and they talked about the whole death goddess thing together and Jaiden led her into the woods where Baghera began living.

Foolish was only there to talk to Bad, to visit him for the first time in a hundred years because Bad was stupid and wanted to train his child grim reaper in training on Earth first. Foolish didn't expect to arrive at night, watch a guy kill someone, make eye contact with him and then smile. He also didn't expect to watch Philza walk out from behind the guy and stare at Foolish. And Foolish ended up joining them because hey, he was bored and he needed something to do.

At this point, Jaiden suggests the gas mask thing as a statement. She thought they needed something to make them stand out from normal people, to make them truly Bolas Rojas. Gas masks looked cool and kinda fit the dark, edgy theme they had so they all started wearing them.

Etoiles was a little bit concerned with Baghera's sudden interest in disappearing into the forest for days on end before returning for a day or so. She always returned different, she was never the same person. Etoiles needed to know what was going on so he followed her and found the cult. He knew Phil and trusted him and hey, he never said he had many morals when it came to killing anyway. It was fun and he didn't mind worshipping a goddess that had been kind and merciful to him time and time again.

Roier was curious what was going on and one day when Jaiden and Cellbit were home at the same time for dinner, Roier asked them what was going on. They both thought that one of them had told him and they ended up explaining everything to him. He said he could join them if they needed him at any point and they immediately said yes. That night, they dragged him out to meet everyone and initiate him.

Mouse walked into the woods to explore because she was bored, met the cult, Baghera was having a breakdown and initiated Mouse and Mouse sort of just accepted it. She's a demon, cults are fun, these people are nice to her and do crazy things for fun. She has no reason not to enjoy it.

Bagi is a detective. She found her brother in Brazil in the prison but lost him. She kept investigating even after. The government contacted her to help them catch Cellbit. Little do they know, she's only helping them so she can find her brother and run away with him. She's incredibly confused about the cult because she recognizes Cellbit's kills but they aren't normal kills and they're somehow connected to a random cult, which is all incredibly strange to her.

Team Soulfire is living in a big house near the woods. They're pretty normal people and also Bolas Roja's new targets. Black feathers are being left around the outside of their house and they aren't exactly happy about it. They also aren't scared because they have Bad. (I haven't really thought of a lot to do with them aside from the main plot but don't worry they're important!)

Bad has one child and then also adopted the child that he found crying that her parents had gone off into the woods. He actually did meet Baghera that way and they talked and she said that he could take care of Pomme and Etoiles said the same thing. That was also how Bad found out about the whole cult thing. He regularly bugs them, steals their food and has almost set the forest on fire a few times. It's all in good fun, or at least, he's having fun.

Tubbo is an engineer, his crush is a government worker who occasionally visits him and randomly went missing. He's having fun, he likes fighting with Etoiles, Roier and Cellbit who have all tried to kill him several times. He isn't exactly sure why they want him dead but they do and he's kind of just enjoying learning how to fight back properly.

Tina was honestly just trying to live in peace but then Bad and Tubbo found her and she was happy even without peace. Anyway, she got invited to hang out in the woods by a stranger through a text and went out. Bad called her stupid but she had seen him walk into the forest and come back relatively unharmed so she wasn't too scared. She walked in and had a pretty good time with everyone until they started talking about eating people, which is when she left. Bagi is her sort of girlfriend, they flirt, Bagi visits Tina a lot (she makes the excuse that it's for work but it definitely isn't) and will often get her flowers or some sort of pastry and Tina will have tea ready and waiting for her every time she visits.

#qsmp #long post #bolas rojas #team bolas #tw child death #i genuinely dont know why i wrote this much for this #i'll probably write something real for this at some point #or i'll just talk more about it #whichever one happens first i guess

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numinousmysteries · 5 months

Text

A Miracle, Perhaps

@eightnightsofmulder

@today-in-fic

Eight Nights of Mulder Day Five: Miracles

[on Ao3]

November 1994

Hanukkah falls early this year, beginning the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Mulder hasn’t mentioned anything about going to visit his mom so Scully isn’t surprised to see him in the office on Monday morning.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” he asks as she turns to hang her coat up.

“Fine,” she says, not wanting to elaborate.

In truth, it had been an awkward affair. She hadn’t realized how much her family’s congenial rapport depended on everyone being on their best behavior for her father. Without the captain to steer them, tensions flared. Thinking he’d be free of Bill Scully Sr.’s judgment, Charlie made his first appearance at his mother’s table in years with his long-term boyfriend Harry, only to face Bill Jr.’s wrath. This led to a very drunk Melissa “accidentally” knocking a full glass of red wine onto Bill’s shirt as she gestured wildly in her little brother’s defense. Once Charlie stormed off with Harry trailing behind him (apologizing to Maggie and thanking her for the food as quickly and quietly as he could) Bill turned his anger on Dana. He argued that by staying with the FBI even after her abduction she was only asking to get killed.

It all ended with Maggie retreating to her bedroom to cry, Melissa vomiting in the bathroom, Bill cursing into his whiskey at the table, and Dana silently washing dishes in the kitchen.

“Did you spend the holiday with your family?” she asks, coming to sit across from him at his desk.

Mulder shakes his head. “Nope. Frohike made his famous chicken wings, which is close enough to turkey for me.”

“What about Hanukkah? You celebrated with your mother last year,” she says, hesitating as she eases into new territory.

Two years into their partnership and they still do this awkward dance around each other when it comes to anything remotely personal. She’s more than partly to blame herself since she doesn’t willingly share much about her own life.

“‘Celebrate’ is a generous word,” Mulder says. “We didn’t exactly light the menorah and spin a dreidel around. My mom started taking her sleeping pills earlier and earlier each day until she was basically conking out after lunch. I don’t think she really likes having me around.”

“That can’t be true.”

Mulder shrugs. “I think I just remind her of Samantha. Or rather Samantha’s absence.”

“What about your father?” Scully says, trying to change the subject.

“It’s funny,” he says. “My dad’s family was Jewish and my mother only converted before they got married, but as long as I can remember he never wanted anything to do with religion. Besides, Hanukkah isn’t even a very significant holiday. It just happens to fall around Christmas so it’s gotten swept up in that all-American, gift-giving, capitalist fervor.”

“What’s the story again?” She’s familiar with the basics of the holiday but she knows Mulder likes weaving a tale for her, and she likes to listen as he does.

“Well, it all started with the rise of the Greek king Antiochus the fourth in the second century BCE. The Greeks had a mostly live-and-let-live attitude toward the Jews until then, but Antiochus wasn’t a big fan. He forbade Jews from practicing their religion and demanded they worship Greek gods instead. This all came to a head when Antiochus invaded Jerusalem, killing thousands of Jews and turning the Holy Temple into a shrine to Zeus. He also forced Jewish people to eat pork, which was strictly forbidden by the Torah, but now that I mention it, oddly puts me in the mood for bacon.”

Scully smiles but shakes her head at him.

“Anyway, a small group of Jews known as the Maccabees formed an army and managed to overpower the much larger Greek forces. They retook the temple and got rid of all the Greek idols but ran into a little problem when they went to rededicate it by lighting the menorah with pure olive oil. Because the Maccabees were soldiers returning from the battlefield, they themselves couldn’t produce pure oil until waiting seven days after having handled dead bodies. All the oil in the temple had been defiled by the Greeks except for one jug that supposedly only had enough to last for one night. But of course, as the legend goes, it ended up keeping the menorah lit for eight days, just in time for the Maccabees to start churning out their own oil. Since this all went down after the Torah was written, the only biblical allusion to the Hanukkah is actually in the New Testament when Jesus visits Jerusalem to observe the holiday—”

“—in the book of John,” Scully finishes his sentence.

“Someone paid attention in Sunday school,” he says, and she fights the feeling of a blush rising to her cheeks.

“Are you surprised?” she asks with a smile.

“Not at all,” he says, returning her grin. “Of course, some scholars consider the Maccabees to be religious fundamentalists who even killed fellow Jews they didn’t consider to be hardcore enough. And some versions of the story don’t include any reference to the so-called ‘miracle of oil,’ so who’s to say what really happened?”

“Mulder, you are willing to believe in claims of parasitic alien life forms, shape-shifting mutants, and widespread government conspiracies, but miracles don’t pass muster?” Scully asks, the corners of her lips creeping up into a smile.

He shifts in his chair, leaning forward, closer to her. “I recently witnessed one miracle that I believe in.”

“Which was?”

“Watching you go from the brink of death in that hospital bed a few months ago to sitting here and debating Talmudic wisdom with me right now. If that isn’t a miracle I don’t know what is.”

She instinctively pulls back, bracing her hands on the armrests of her chair. He doesn’t budge, keeping his eyes locked on her.

“Mulder, I can’t clarify what happened to me, why I was returned or why I recovered,” she says quietly, “but when I was unconscious in the hospital, I saw things that I believe can only be explained by the existence of a higher power.”

She hadn’t confessed this to Mulder before and she isn’t sure why. This is a man who believes in werewolves and time-traveling killers. Why is she scared to tell him about her own visions?

“What did you see?” He asks, softly, leaning in towards her.

“I saw my father. I saw my sister—and I saw you,” she says quietly. “But it wasn’t just seeing. I felt your presence.”

Mulder pauses for a beat, opening his lips to speak but not saying anything.

“Scully, I’ve heard about near-death experiences, people believing their seeing through a portal into the afterlife. But in nearly every case they can be explained by low-oxygen levels or misfiring neurons in the brain.”

“No, Mulder,” she says, looking down at her hands now. “I read my medical report. I never suffered from hypoxia or unusual neurological activity. There’s no scientific explanation for what happened.”

“So you think it was God?”

“I don’t know, Mulder,” her voice quavers. “But I can’t say for sure that it wasn’t.”

“Whatever it was, I’m glad you made it through.”

“Thank you,” she says, feeling the heat rising in her chest.

She doesn’t tell him that along with sensing his presence she felt something more—a fierce devotion bordering on love. Maybe he’s right and it was a miracle that brought her back to him. Or perhaps the miracle is whatever brought them together in the first place.

#eightdaysofmulder #eightnightsofmulder #8dom #txf #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr

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evita-shelby · 1 year

Text

A different sort of man

part ii

Gif by @nofckingfighting

The witch scours through every book on magic she owns, and Thomas spends the time trying to see how different this Tommy’s life is from his.

The tattoo on his hand is different.

Instead of TGC, he sees an entwined E and T. Same monogram on the linens, tiles on the floors and carved on his own desk.

“You got it done on our first anniversary in 1921, we didn’t have Charlie yet.” The witch answers as she tossed another book into the stack and leafed through the next one. “Charlie was born in 1922, September to be exact. We eloped on June 1920 and a month ago we had a church wedding to cover up the Russian business and because our families ---mainly Polly and my aunts--- demanded we pretend to be good catholic people despite us being atheists.”

“How do you know about the Russians?” he tensed.

He didn’t confide in anyone save Polly, he couldn’t trust Grace even after three years. Too many lies, too many things ruined by her presence alone.

Even his family was distancing themselves from him because they can’t stand her.

“Because you tell me things, we are not just husband and wife, we are also business partners, have been since I told you Grace was the rat and told Campbell about Black Star Day.” She answered before muttering a curse, tossed the book and began searching through the couch cushions.

Lucky, lucky Thomas Shelby, this Tommy has a wife he can trust, with a good head on her shoulders and a spark of gypsy magic.

Something gnaws at him because he knows he cannot even begin to comprehend why he even sought Grace out in London in the first place.

“Should your stay last longer than it should, I am perfectly equipped to handle everything the other you has left pending. I act as your proxy when you aren’t available, if I do need you to make an appearance, I will brief you on it.” The witch runs a tight ship it seems.

“Mrs. Shelby, Mrs. Gray is here.” Mary, the same housekeeper he employes said with a little more warmth than her counterpart.

“Thank you, Mary. Please send her in, I am afraid it is rather urgent.” She thanked the housekeeper with a smile.

Grace was not an easy woman to please, demanded perfection, demanded that everyone knew their place and would never have even acknowledged Mary with a smile.

Where had this woman been all these years, he found himself asking.

“71 Watery Lane, with my daj, Ethel Smith.” She answered his unspoken question to his horror.

“You aren’t you.” Polly cuts to the chase as they meet in his office.

“No. Believe it or not, when I went to sleep my wife’s name was Eva, my son Charlie was five months older and I would have never sought out Grace Burgess for what she did to us six years ago.” Tommy explained to Polly, she was closer to the original one, but there was a coldness to their interactions.

He couldn’t blame her, Eva had told him that Grace believed Pol to have incestuous feelings toward him and assumed it was jealousy and not disgust because she saw her for who she was.

“If only that version of you had your sensibility, boy.” His aunt said with pity aimed at the man whose body he occupied.

This Thomas had a similar tattoo on his hand, except for the monogram Eva has on tiles and linens, there is a G for Grace, a C for Charles and a T for Thomas.

This man’s feelings were not strong enough to keep it just their initials, he had to add the baby that turned a fuck up into his life.

“Yeah, if only.” He found himself agreeing as he tossed the photograph of Grace into a drawer.

This house was a dark and gaudy shrine to her and him, he had not been surprised to know she had not curtailed his less than fashionable décor. Worse, Grace Burgess had enabled him.

Grace’s tastes seemed to exist within the confinements of her wardrobe and even that was questionable.

If Eva were here she would have burned the garish purple wedding dress with unabashed gusto, along with every portrait he commissioned.

He missed her, not even three hours apart from her and he wants to return to her and his much, much happier life.

“What do we know about Eva Smith, granddaughter of Ethel Smith at 71 Watery Lane?” he doesn’t hear the quiet gasp until Polly’s dark eyes zero in at the woman spying on them.

Fuck.

Fuck him, fuck her, fuck them all.

If Grace was just as he remembered, she will be calling the All Saints’ Hospital to throw him in there before the sun sets today.

As if he didn’t already have the Russians to deal with too.

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #eva x tommy

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 month

Text

More details on "Shane the Witch Child" au;

Shane sorta takes over as the "main character" in place of the Farmer in this au cus the Junimos aren't gonna let him forget it.

Shane can't remember his birth parents. Side effect of the Shrine of Memory. He does remember that his birth name means "Gift from Yoba" - though it isn't "Shane".

Although he recovered physically from being "dove'd" as a toddler, the experience was super tramatizing to Shane. Even if he can't remember it fully.

Shane is neurodivergent. It's unconnected to his "doving" experience, he's just born that way. Being undiagnosed for so long + trauma during his early 20s stoked the fire of his alchoholism.

Jas isn't directly related to Shane, but was the daughter of his best friends. Him and said friends followed eachother from childhood to college, and Shane was declared Jas's godfather. Then within one tragic car accident; Shane found himself Jas's only living legal guardian. And because of his injuries sustained in the crash, Shane lost his college gridball scholarship. He moved back in with Marnie after the accident and fell into the bottle ever since.

Marnie isn't an active magic user but being the Witch's sister, is naturally attuned to the magical world. It's why she doesn't question the existance of Void Chickens. To her, they've always just "been there".

Their family have almost always been farmers, going back generations - the sole exception being the Witch, and her and Marnie's father.

The family has had a business-type association with "Grandpa" from the farm north of the ranch for... wait. How old was that coot when he passed?

The "Farmers" that inherit Grandpa's old Farm aren't human. Shane is one of the few people able to see this. The lazy second-born Ffion, the one in charge of morning feeds and birds, loves to tease Shane about this fact when they cross paths in the morning. Shane hates this guy especially since he spends all day lazing in the sun and shade like all other serpents.

Shane and Emily get along so well because 1: shared special interest in birds, 2: related struggles with impulse control, and 3: neurodivergent besties. As a fellow neurodivergent person - we tend to accidentally flock together (birds of a feather if you will).

Shane gets super-attached to the birds he's raised personally and can't bring himself to eat bird meat. He's pretty much sees his birds as his kids. He's even ended up raising and releasing many wild birds who's nests got disturbed during Joja Corp development projects. Lapwings, Oystercatchers, Barnacle Geese, Plovers, Gulls, etc.. After his revelation that he wants to raise birds for a living, he starts taking in rescues. (irl reference that inspired this part A Chick Called Albert). He wonders if any of those birds remember him - they do.

Charlie the Chicken isn't allowed in the house unless she's wearing bird diapers. Shane thinks she looks ridiculous. Marnie refutes saying that Shane can sleep in the coop if he so wants - something he honestly considers. Charlie puts up with it so long as she gets to sleep in the bed next to Shane.

Shane encounters Leo early on (long story). He immediately finds a kindred spirit in the little parrot-kid. Leo thinks Shane is a "big blue bird" cus of his Joja Mart uniform, and Shane doesn't correct him. Shane acquires bird-son. Marnie was very relieved/confused when Shane made it back home with a kid and a few wild birds in tow.

The conflict between Joja Mart and the Community Centre is far more drawn out. In conjunction with Shane discovering that he has magic(!!!) despite not believing in the supernatural, he struggles with the ideas of putting Luddism/farming before convenience and stability. He's not gonna drop a decent 9 to 5 to chase a pipe dream if it puts Jas's future at risk. The Junimos will not leave Shane alone though.

Shane accidentally befriends Krobus and the Dwarf. The former because he found out that the shadow spirit was protecting Jas, and the latter because Dwarf admires Shane "protecting the Smoluanu birds" (chickens). Shane is very confused.

Song that inspired this au: "Devil's Train" by The Lab Rats. I leave it up to the imagination exactly who's offering to make Shane a deal.

Let me know what y'all think ;3

#shane the witch child #shane the witch child au #sdv au #stardew valley #stardew valley au #sdv shane #sdv marnie #sdv the witch #sdv junimos

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joeyclaire · 7 months

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#chit chats #charlie day shrine #somehow i’ve never used this pic before

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onesidedradiostatic · 21 days

Note

scary crack Re: alastor shrine and alastor budget

Nifty and husk making BANK selling the vacuum dust from Alastor’s room on the dark web 😭💀 there’s be freaks out there buying it like a mystery box hoping to find tail fluff (only rumoured to exist) or something. I feel freak-contaminated just typing it.

I read something once about a stalker plumber collecting the hair from showers and. I regret knowing about it every day.

(context: budget, shrine (og post), shrine (animatic))

HUSK TOO?????? you know what niffty probably dragged him into it. at this point alastor is losing his mind asking who in the hotel ISN'T making money off of him. charlie starts a lesson about exploitation.

(a large portion of the money just comes from vox not even the sinner fanbase that treats alastor as a sexyman)

#ask #osrs.txt #lucifer's commissions saga #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin niffty #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husker #hazbin hotel husker #husker #radiostatic #staticradio #onewaybroadcast

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happysadyoyo · 2 months

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Experimenting with a writing style for TMA AU... tempted to tag pillowspace for opinions but. No, I'll hold off cause this doesn't have DCA or Charlie in it and that feels like an overreach.

You are haunted.

You don’t remember when you first realized the pillow on the unused side of your bed is an offering to whatever it is that’s made its home in you. Maybe it has always lived inside you and you only became aware when you didn’t stay dead.

The human body is made up of trillions of microscopic lives, dying and being born again and again. Perhaps you’re haunted by all the cells that lived as you. Did they die with you? Did they return when the paramedics restarted your heart? Or had they been completely oblivious to the end they so narrowly avoided?

Regardless, you are haunted.

It comes in the quiet moments. You remove your prosthetic to sleep, but you can still feel the way your ankle pops in protest as you tuck yourself under the blankets. You forget to put your chair back in the shower and fall because you expected to put your weight on two feet instead of the one. You’d gone into urgent care after that incident and gotten three stitches hidden in the tangled curls of your hairline. There’s a scar there now, and you’d joked about cracking your egg again.

There are days you find yourself staring at the escalators, grateful that Bonnie is too large, too heavy to take them. If he questions why you switch sides and take his hand in the elevator, he doesn’t ask.

You were inspired to apply as a handler because of your prosthetic. It’d been created by someone who used to work for FazCo, your doctor had explained. Something meant to mimic human movement more closely, be more comfortable for your body. You’re not sure your body agrees. It always hurts though, so maybe the metal means nothing. Or maybe it’s haunted too.

You haven’t worked since before the accident. It feels like a lifetime ago (and once again you find yourself wondering how many lifetimes ago was it for your cells. You heard once that the human body regenerates entirely every seven years, but when you looked it up the answer was mixed. It’s been many many lifetimes for your skin). You had to learn how to walk with crutches and metal pins, with different legs, before you got the one you use now. The pins in your remaining leg ache when your cold. And you’re always cold, except when you’re curled up face the empty pillow, wondering who sleeps with you.

You’d tried dating again, a few times. You’re a flirt, and you’re genuine, and people like that about you. They don’t like your jokes or the fact you set aside a portion of your meal for your ancestors. You explain why you do it—it’s a sign of respect and you like to share. They don’t really care.

You talk less about death and ghosts, but it feels like you’re ignoring those who came before. You remember walking through Chinatown with Mother, her explaining the shrines she remembers from home, her face distant and sad. You didn’t know why she’d married your father. You like to pretend you still don’t know.

There’s a shrine in your apartment. It’s tucked in the corner and you wonder sometimes if praying is meant to be a conversation. You don’t change though. Maybe your ancestors like your jokes and questions. Maybe they hate it, but you’re the only daughter of an only daughter. They don’t have many options.

Will someone talk to you when you die for the last time?

Your therapist questions if this obsession is healthy, but your first love was the werewolf on the cover of one of Mother’s books and you picked a job on a whim, not really thinking through how much walking you’d have to do or how many escalators there can be in one building. How looking at them makes the leg that’s no longer there spark with pain. You squeeze Bonnie’s hand tight, and he squeezes back, silently reassuring.

You like talking with Bonnie. He doesn’t make you feel weird for loving bugs and flirting and being genuine and sharing food with ghosts. Sometimes you think he’s haunted too. But there’s never time to ask. And if you ask, what if that changes things for the worse? So you don’t, but you wind up going down a wikipedia rabbit hole about rabbits and AI and where metal comes from. You see a moth and catch it to show Bonnie before releasing it outside.

Lunar moths don’t have mouths or a digestive system. You don’t tell Bonnie that. When you’ve told people that before, they become incredibly sad and miss that the moth has already gone through a transformation once. And you like making Bonnie happy.

You like making people happy. You wish your jokes were funnier. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with death you would be liked more.

But you can’t help it. Your body is haunted. And most of the time you’re fairly certain it’s you doing the haunting.

#tma au #fnaf au #dca au #glamrock bonnie

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changingplumbob · 5 months

Text

Nishidake Household: Chapter 4, Part 2

Kaori and Charlie may not be sure where to start as mountain guardians but they know sims are watching over them.

In this part the two have a dinner to catch up with flatmates and discuss why they're not planning on growing their family with humans any time soon. Also I make myself tear up (I'm emotional okay) by having Charlie discuss the timeless save with Allie but she is alive for this whole part.

The women reach the end of their hike. Up a few stone staircases set into the mountain they find it, the mountain shrine. A memorial to all those who came before, Kaori's ancestors. It's time to let them know that these women are here to stay, and look after Mt Komorebi.

The prayers are cast into the tunnel and the Nishidake's listen for the echo to tell them they've been heard.

Kaori: We did it

Charlie: That was more draining than I expected

Kaori: You know what cheers me up

Charlie: Woohoo

Kaori: Yes! But also food. Let's go get dinner. Catch up with some friends

Dinner time with the old flat crew, minus their kids

Host: Hello and welcome to 5-3-1 Shinrinyoku. This restaurant was built by the gallery's own KA0260

Kaori: Okay can we-

Host: Can I just say... Hi

Kaori: Ah, hi

Host: Don't be thrown by my looks, I'm also tender and loving

Kaori: Excuse me

Luna: Is he actually

Rahul: Just wait, she's got this

Charlie: Do I get a hi? Being my wife's wife

Host: Ah, of course

Kaori: Table for 6

Host: Yes, this way

Devin: No one leads me anywhere

Luna: He's doing his job

Devin: Sure he is

Host: Call me if you need anything

Charlie: We won't

Kaori: Bye

Charlie: Do you two have to deal with nonsense like that

Devin: No but none of my fans are creeps, by definition of being my fans

Cassandra: Henford is pretty quiet

Rahul: I don't think we've encountered any paparazzi yet

Luna: You mean friends with cameras

Charlie: Oh you do not

Devin: It's a nice way to refer to them

Cassandra: Don't you worry about the boys

Luna: What about them

Rahul: I don't think we'd be comfortable with pictures of our kids in the papers

Luna: Most of them understand not to take pictures of the boys

Charlie: If any don't, just let me know

Waitress: Ready to order?

The group order and Cassandra has to excuse herself to go search for a bathroom.

Charlie: It honestly sounds like hell

Luna: I mean, it's not hell

Kaori: Spending 9 months growing kids only to not be happy at the end sounds like hell

Luna: I'm happyish now

Rahul: Well there you go

Charlie: Huh

Luna: I wouldn't change having them just to avoid the postpartum stuff

Charlie: So glad I'm never having kids

Devin: Wait, never

Charlie: I certainly don't plan on getting pregnant Devin

Kaori: And it would be hard to scale the mountain with nausea

Luna: So you wouldn't get pregnant either

Cassandra: Food's here, what did I miss

Charlie: It's not that big a deal, plenty of people don't get pregnant

Rahul: So you don't have a mum bugging you for grandkids

Cassandra: That's just you big guy

Devin: Pa bugged us for a while

Charlie: We're only... how old are we

Kaori: 26 Charlie: Thanks

Charlie: I mean, maybe we could adopt eventually

Kaori: Maybe. We're not in a rush

Luna: Life can be shorter than we think

Kaori: Not when you can throw chopsticks like this it's not

Charlie: Thanks for coming to us guys

Rahul: No problem

Devin: It's good to get out of the valley

Kaori: I bet

Allie: *barks* remember not to rush the door, they hate that

Clover: *barks* why

Allie: *barks* they only have 2 legs to balance on

Charlie: Say, want to go not make a baby

Kaori: I'd love to go not make a baby

Charlie: Knew it

So the two have some baby free fun.

Winter is officially begun! With it, food coma day! Kaori begins making a grand breakfast while Charlie works on fixing a few things.

Kaori: Are you sure you don't want me to do that

Charlie: You're busy

Kaori: And you hate handiness

Charlie: I promise not to electrocute myself

Kaori: You better not

Kaori: Cuteness alert! And breakfast!

Charlie: Aww, I'm here K

Kaori: You really don't mind not having kids

Charlie: I mean, if they're blood relatives to you... could they end up tied to the mountain as well

Kaori: I think they would

Charlie: Is that fair to them, they might want to live elsewhere

Kaori: I don't want to have kids just to trap them either

Charlie: But we'll probably need someone to take this role after us

Kaori: Maybe adopted kids down the road could be guardians without...

Charlie: Risking death

Kaori: Yeah

Charlie: We'll be here for a long time yet

Kaori: I know

Charlie wanted to take Allie for another proper jog so Kaori sorted out the garden for the day, with Clover's help of course. 2pm rolls around and it's time for Charlie to head to work. Kaori got a request from her publicity to make a fishing video so time to try find a fishing hole.

Here we are. The only fishing spot in the whole of Mt Komorebi. One big mountain, one tiny fishing pier. Kaori examines the water and sees a bunch of fish swimming around. She probably should have invited father in law Harvey along to help identify them.

The afternoon doesn't go terribly. While the drone has battery Kaori manages a few catches. She gets a minnow, a talking llama toy and an infamous cowplant berry. The drone can only last so long however so after a few hours she has to pack it up and head home.

Kaori: Where's the best co editor known to man or dog

Allie: *barks*

Kaori: There you are!

With Allie's watchful eye Kaori uploads the footage and begins the editing process. She ads a few effects, and smooth transitions, and gets a great video. The publicity agent is delighted.

Another food coma day tradition is baking! Charlie gets home while Kaori is still busy so settles on the couch with Allie.

Charlie: How are you doing girl

Allie: *barks*

Charlie: You know you have lived a wonderful life darling. The timeless save will be lucky to have you

Allie: *whines*

Charlie: Not this second of course

Allie: *barks*

Charlie: But when it happens don't be scared okay. You'll see Kaori's grandparents again. And probably your mum. And I'll be there eventually

Allie: *whines*

Charlie: Oh it won't seem like a long time for you, I promise my darling, be brave my girl

Allie may be tired, but she hasn't finished training Clover. She can't rest yet. She'll give it another day if she can, for Charlie. Allie hopes she's right about the timeless save.

Charlie: Thank the watcher she's still here

Kaori: She is

Charlie: I don't have work today, should we do some guardianship stuff

Kaori: I wanted to go rock climbing, the conditions are perfect. I'm sure the mountain wont fall down in a day

Charlie: Fair enough, how's our gear

Kaori: Still good

They two do some stretching before starting, don't want anyone getting hurt. They're both only level 3 rock climbing so have a lot to learn before they can try for the summit. They just have to remember to keep practicing to boost their abilities. Kaori dreams of the summit view.

And some bonus climbing pictures because I was having fun. Kaori did fall once but still managed to improve her rock climbing to level 4. Oh and Kaori is a neat sim after cleaning up some more stuff this morning.

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#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #rotation7 #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #NishidakeHousehold #KaoriNishidake #CharlieNishidake #DevinVillareal #LunaVillareal #CassandraChopra #RahulChopra #R0709

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