#| with the sim he was having the affair with. all of this when i leave autonomy on for an hour and a half by accident

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

note: i'm getting a lot of repetitive strain from editing in my wrist and index finger, so most of these i only really ran through Happy Pills, and nothing was sent to canva.

Joining the easel downstairs (which only Avery has used so far) is a punching bag! The lucky sim chosen by the randomiser to receive a new skill building object is Avery. 

Look at that guitar. Look at that signature. The real deal, totally didn’t cheat it from the debug menu or anything.

Lilac awakes this morning having experienced a flirty dream about... Piper, while our chef of the day Caden has a Whims related spurt of 'inspiration.' Perfect time to take up cooking.

One perk of being chef, SELDOM SLEEPY traited Lilac tends to wake early, so they get plenty of time to chat with the bachelorette.

Breakfast is a convivial affair - and awww! Lilac gets a hug from Aubrey.

Well, this is a morning full of self-discoveries. In addition to Lilac’s flirty dream of Piper, Caden’s cooking awakens the REFINED PALETTE quirk in artiste Avery.

Spencer is the latest sim to have it out with Patchy. Why didn’t he go to Lilac’s Halloween themed party? Why?

And while Avery and Piper have a rather awkward moment inside, he and Lilac continue to gravitate towards each other like a pair of horny little magnets. Dirty jokes - as well as a lot of general friendliness - abound.

As Piper the merperson was concerned about not getting wet, Spencer was able to embrace Lilac in peace and she didn’t refuse. There was a shocked moodlet from UNFLIRTY Piper though.

(Well, mostly. And oh, is that what happened between Piper and Avery?!?)

There - she's going swimming now. You two are safe. At least Avery is having more fun in the rain.

While Pauline and Aubrey bond inside, Spencer has got our bachelorette feeling very flirty indeed, but it’s Caden who beats him to the punch.

Spencer doesn’t look happy about this at all and to be honest, I can somewhat relate. It’s a bit like doing most of the work on a group project, only to have someone else swoop in and take all the credit at the end. But am I still laughing at him? Absolutely yes.

As per usual when Lilac is ‘otherwise occupied,’ chore montage hour occurs. Aubrey and Avery are our gardeners, and Avery very kindly leaves out their new guitar for Aubrey.

We figure that Spencer could likely do with relieving some ‘tension’ so once again he takes on the punching bag.

(part ii up later)

@plasmafruittree @x-digitaldollhouse-x @mdshh

@invisiblequeen @sleepyselkiesims @akitasimblr

[hallasimss]

not me leaving autonomy on by mistake ruining one of my carefully crafted relationships..... this is a f*cking joke atp

[0bticeo]

j. sims, e. bouchard | knowledge is a double-edged sword

part two of four. (part one.) (part 3.) (part four.)

summary:

a low hum. there’s something sharp in elias' smile. his gaze feels like it’s cutting you open. you hold your ground, unblinking, watching him and his annoyingly handsome face. 

“you’re wearing a mask, dear.”

“aren’t we all?”

wc. 3k

tw. reader's creeping paranoia, shockinlgy nothing smutty happens in this chapter, manipulation, graphic description of eyes, mild ptsd, nightmares, elias bouchard being a creep.

working in the archives has always been… a little off, for a lack of a better word. you are supposed to research and archive statements regarding “supernatural happenings” in a world where said supernatural has been swiped under the carpet, dismissed with a haughty scoff. still, it pays well. which is why you find yourself clocking in day after day. 

your colleagues… you don’t know what to make of them. not really. sasha’s been… off. you think there’s a void in the shape of her roaming about the place. she’s calm and focused. formal. has trouble logging in her computer - that’s… not right.

martin seems to be taking it well enough for someone who’s spent the past two months sleeping in the archives and then getting attacked by worms. sounds silly. definitely wasn’t. you think there’s much, much more to him than meets the eye and and accept the cups of coffee he hands you with a warm smile. you mean them. you like martin. his poetry a bit less. 

tim… is silent. he’s lost his smile. you haven’t fallen victim to one of his pranks in ages and fear you won’t ever have to worry about a sketchy statement being one of his little jokes. you feel anger bubbling inside of him at the mere mention of having to work in the archives. yet…

yet he’s helping you. 

the library is a quiet affair, the muted sort of silence that hangs like a comforting blanket over your shoulders. dust flutters away in the air, drawn by your steps. tim’s sigh cuts through the silence like a knife.

“why are we doing this again?”

you tuck back a book in its shelf. thankfully, not a leitner. still, nothing to do with architecture.

“because it is our job, tim.”

he scoffs.

“yeah, right. i wasn’t aware it involved risking my life.”

“look, you’re not forced to help me. if it makes you feel better to slack off, then i’m not stopping you.”

he laughs, mocking, almost cruel. the pressure at the back of your neck is near unbearable. you want to scream. you want to tear something apart.

“look at you! acting like everything’s normal! three months ago, you were bleeding out on my lap! how can you-”

“it’s either i focus on something else or i go mad.” you snap a book shut with a sharp intake of air. “you won’t like me mad, tim. now shut up and help me find robert smirke’s books, will you? i’m pretty sure they were there, but-”

his hand clasps around your wrist. 

“hold on. why are you looking for smirke’s books?”

“follow up on a statement involving urbex in the former church of saint james in west hackney. built by, you guessed it, robert smirke himself.”

you watch a flash of… something in his eyes. it looks like guilt in mourning, and you’re itching to pry, pry him open and unearth whatever secrets he keeps buried under a thick layer of good humour turned bitter. 

“it should be around here.”

you end up with three heavy volumes in hand, none of which feel like they’ll help with erin gallagher-nelson’s statement. then, something catches your attention. a small leather volume, tucked away behind the books you’re currently holding. tim’s already on his way out, much to your chagrin. you don’t feel too guilty when you reach for the small little book and tuck away those he’s helped you find, neatly ordered in their rightful place.

the little book in your hand is… not a leitner, which is a relief as you are not wearing gloves. no, it’s bound leather, with no title in sight. you open it, carefully, cradling it against your breast like something fragile, and cast your gaze upon its first page. the juts out in ink far too dark for its age.

the fears that bind us.

turn another page and see the summary. fourteen entries, neatly labelled. the Web. the Dark. the Spiral. the Buried. you pause.

the pinprick pain at your neck sharpens. you’re Watched. there’s nobody but you in the library, but there’s something, watching, always watching, and you can make eyes in the corners of the shelves and they’re peering down at you and they Know you’re starting to suspect something’s terribly wrong with this place and-

thud.

the book falls from your trembling hands. dust rises up, clings to the hem of your trousers. you stare at the dull, unassuming little leather cover and feel its magnetic pull. you Know there’s more to it than it lets on. you pick it up.

(somewhere, the chittering mass of the many-legged mother of puppets spins a chain of events into motion, weaving a pretty plan.)

*

these days, stepping in the institute feels like being strapped down to a vivisection table and having your brain prodded at. it’s oppressive. you become aware of just how many eyes there are in the institute. coworkers from other departments glancing disinterestedly at you. strange motives in the nooks and crannies of the wooden doors and shelves and corridors and floors, eyes half-lidded. pictures and their faded edges, you, tim, martin, jon and sasha (?) huddling close, smiling. portraits - jonah magnus, high and mighty, immortalised in his seat of power. you think his painted lips are curled up a little more than they normally are. you’ve seen that floating smile before.

you take to having your lunch outside of the institute. you find you can breathe easier through the sharp cold of london’s winter air. needle-sharp, it pierces your lungs, scrapes your throat with every mouthful of curry you swallow. you don’t mind. you have jon to huddle close to, no matter how much he rolls his eyes and tells you to take a warmer coat with you. still, he wraps his arm around you and intertwine his fingers with yours.

tim and martin make no comment - you do feel the weight of their gaze on your shoulders as you make your way back to your desk ten minutes sharp after jon comes back to his office. doesn’t matter. by now, you’re used to being watched.

you’re growing tired of it.

going home is no relief - that damned gaze is there, too. you clench your teeth and turn all the mirrors around and tuck away what little pictures you have. your breathing stutters in your throat. there’s a cork board on your wall, now, and you think of the one that lies in jon’s office, red strings stretching and stretching and it still doesn’t make sense. not yet. 

gertrude’s dead - somebody’s murdered her, three bullets, bang, the body falls, bang, bang just to make sure the old bat is dead, a waste of an Archivist. 

jon wants to know who. he tells you, fingers threading through his hair, tape recorder still running, that it could be anyone at that’s been working at the institute since five years. you’ve been hired two years ago, so you’re good, but tim? martin? sasha? elias?

(you’ve pressed your lips to jon’s and sworn to help him, forehead pressed against him in the sweetest oath.)

there are scraps of hastily jotted down notes, pictures faded at the edges. recurring people from statements - gerry keay, michael shelley, simon fairchild, prentiss, salesa. hilltop road. recurring themes, artefacts you took pain to research, asking sasha for help - she did work in artefact storage before, right?

(her smile was sharp when she nodded. too sharp. she laughed as she led you to the basement floor, something like a deadly private joke. you didn’t ask for her help again.)

you take a step back and stare at the board. the strings make no sense, red over red over red, and you have an eye staring back at you, unblinking, thread burned in your retina. 

smirke’s book lies open on your couch. your cat wisely stays away from it. you’ve named him socrates for a reason. you wish you could be blessed with the sage’s foresight.

fears bind you. there’s a classification, Entities that sometimes bleed in the corners of this world, out-of-sight-but-there. you’ll only notice when they strike. when they show themselves, when you realise there’s something terribly wrong with the stranger’s edges peering out of an alleyway, anglerfish luring its prey. poor smoker’s fate. 

a classification. fourteen primal fears straight out of the lovecraftian mythos. the stranger. the Spiral - think of michael, smile curling endlessly in all his sharp edges, laugh like an alarm bell ringing long after he’s gone. the Corruption - jane prentiss and her loving smile and worms burrowing in her flesh and in yours. 

the Eye.

you take in a sharp intake of air and read. 

IT KNOWS YOU.

*

you cannot move. you’re crushed by the sheer magnitude of the structure spreading around you in concentric circles of power. panopticon. he who stands in the centre watches and knows all. is there anyone at all in its centre?

you. you’re kneeling, skin bare and bruised and scraped, the stone harsh and unforgiving, scraping the tender skin of your knee. humidity seeps in through the open pores of your skin. 

you can’t see. it’s too dark, the penumbra stretching and stretching for miles, near corporeal with how thick it is. you think it might be reaching out for your eyes with too long fingers, chipped claws sinking below your eyelid to rip them off. 

you startle.

eyes.

so many eyes, staring at you from the darkness encasing you, with no eyelids so they do not blink. there’s the dreadful suspicion that their optic nerves join, mingle into something you do not want to see. ocular globes, little gelatinous spheres surrounding you, Watching you, Knowing you. you, on your bloody knees, heart stammering under your ribcage like a chased rabbit, your bare flesh cold, cold, cold. 

it’s cutting you open, scalpel gazes making careful, careful incisions in the marrow of your psyche. they’re carving open your head, your skull a neat, organic little box housing the grey matter of your brain. cerebrospinal fluid drips down your cheeks.

you shudder. you can feel them, Watching, Knowing, the mere thought of it a burning streak in your consciousness, they’re picking you apart, they Know what you’ve done, how you break-

you only start screaming when you look up and See.

you startle awake with a shuddering gasp, trembling so badly you can’t even make out the familiarity of your bedroom. breathe in. the darkness isn’t cloying, the street lights worming their way beneath your shutters. breathe out. you can hear the cars running, the nocturnal hustle and bustle of london’s night life. the chatter, the laughter. 

you let out a trembling sigh and run your hand over your face. you find it damp with sweat and tears. a beat of silence. you rest your forehead on your palms, hands gliding down until the heel of your palm is over your socket and you push there until you feel the bone, the gelatinous fragility of your eye. it is not the first time you have these dreams. you wish you could sleep.

you trace the edges of your temples, those you know were left gaping, those you know had been wrenched open- closed. no scar. only those on your thighs, on your forearms, on your hands from these wretched worms.

you close your fingers, nails digging in your bandaged palm and feel a pinprick of pain. the other side of the bed is cold and empty. you glance at the analog clock on your bedside table. the time blares, angry red flashing 5:32 in your retina. three hours left before going to work. 

you get up from the bed and set about changing your sweat-soaked sheets. you’re not going to fall back asleep. might as well get ready for work. you do, body set in autopilot. breakfast. shower. lather hydrating cream over the expanse of you. disinfect the many, many patches of scarred tissues left by the flesh-hive. get dressed - black tailored pants, cream crispy ironed shirt. a spritz of perfume. white flats. a quick glance in the mirror - there you are, the epitome of professional perfection, little miss trust-me-i-have-everything-under-control. 

you don’t.

you’re tired. so, so very tired. exhaustion settles like a heavy weight in your bone marrow, anchors you down until your whole world is clouded. foggy. you don’t remember the last time you’ve pushed the door to the archives without a thin veil clouding your eyes. 

you think of the Narrator, unnamed, bone-deep tired, staring emptily in the camera in a film you can’t say the name of. first rule: you do not talk about it. second rule: you do not, talk about it. everything’s a copy of a copy of a copy.

as it goes, you push the door to the archives, step inside the quiet room, shrug off your coat at your designated desk, and go about making yourself some coffee. nobody’s there to plot your bloody murder as you blankly explain that, to you, tea is nothing but bland leaf juice. not that tim or martin would bother these days.

it’s quiet. nobody’s here to see you climb the stairs to the break room on the second floor. the one used by the human resources department. lucky bastards. bastards, period. refusing to hand over the necessary funds to buy another coffee machine for the archives after the first one broke during prentiss’ infestation. and they say their mission is to foster a safe work environment. such a shame your morning murderous urges are only quelled by your second cup of the day.

you grab a mug and press the button. whirring rises in the dry silence of the room. slowly, slowly, the mug is filled up. you inhale and feel your shoulders relax by half a fraction. the heavenly scent of grounded coffee beans percolating feels the room and you find yourself smiling. it doesn’t ease the fogginess clouding your mind. it will do.

large window panes offer a wide overview of the streets below, the early morning fog clinging to humid asphalt, the rare cars passing by. you let out a slow exhale, your breath clouding the window.

your mug is ready.

“is that one for me?”

you startle.

elias bouchard stands behind you, hands clasped behind his back, picture perfect manager in a crisp suit - too stiff, too out of place in his employee’s break room. he’s wearing a phthalo green suit, the one that brings out the green-grey of his eyes. your favourite. and he’s waiting for your answer, you realise after an embarrassingly long amount of time.

there are two mugs in front of you. you blink.

“oh. oh, yes.”

you hand him the first mug and reach for your own. he thanks you with a floating smile and takes a sip. a low hum. 

“so you do have taste.”

you blink.

he’s reclining on a table, watching you. you and your impeccably ironed shirt, cradling your mug like one would something precious. you and the bags under your eyes, so dark they might be embedded in the preciously thin skin below your eyelids.

you snort. 

“just because i have a massive sweet tooth doesn’t mean i’d put sugar in coffee. i’m french, not a complete barbarian.”

you earn a quiet chuckle. something like satisfaction purrs inside of you - you made him laugh, the sound low and rich and deep.

“one might argue that you are, in the literal sense of the term, a barbarian.”

“one might argue that the etymological definition of a barbarian doesn’t apply to me, as i speak your language.”

you watch him, from over the steaming rim of your mug. something like… elation flashes in his eyes. the thrill of debate, maybe.

“do you, now?”

you tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing by a fraction as you assess him. the perfect curl of his lips in that damning razor sharp half-smile. the relaxed slope of his shoulders. the soft stillness of his long, gloved fingers on the table. the glint in his green-grey eyes, daring you to take the bait.

you do, crossing your legs at the ankles, leaning back against the window.

“at first glance, yes.” you point an accusatory finger towards him. “but you, monsieur bouchard, don’t like sticking to first glances and faux-semblants, you’re sharper than that.”

a low hum. there’s something sharp in his smile. his gaze feels like it’s cutting you open. you hold your ground, unblinking, watching him and his annoyingly handsome face. 

“you’re wearing a mask, dear.”

“aren’t we all?”

he shakes his head.

“it’s convenient, isn’t it? not to have to bear the weight of your mother tongue.”

your shoulders tense. there’s that pinprick pressure at the back of your neck, standing poised and sharp against your vertebrae. he’s watching you, needle-gaze pinning you like a butterfly to a wall. 

“it’s a pain. english and french bleed into one another too much and it messes up my syntax.”

“you’re deflecting.”

“wasn’t your question rhetorical?”

silence. it feels like a loss. one beat, two beat, unsteady, hammering wildly like your heart, beneath layers of flesh and fabric, all perfectly controlled thank you very much.

he’s before you before you know it, close, close enough for you to smell his cologne - something sharp and cold with a faint hint of ink. you raise your eyes and meet his gaze. you think there’s a faint glow to it, irises flashing green for the briefest moments. 

“you’re hard to pin down, my dear.”

you can feel the heat of him, creeping closer and closer as he leans down ever so slightly, one gloved finger curling under your chin, tilting your head up, up, up until the angle makes you wince.

“coming from you, i’ll take that as a compliment.”

a low hum. the building pressure at your nape has you clenching your teeth. then, finally, he lets go, apparently satisfied with whatever it is he’s found in you.

“thank you for the coffee. it has been most… insightful.”

with that, he leaves, and you stand alone in the break room, coffee mug now cold. even without the unbearable weight of his gaze on you, you feel watched. the only thing remaining in the room with you is the portrait of jonah magnus, peering down at you with storm-grey eyes. somehow, it feels familiar.

you want to scream. you gulp down your coffee and leave an empty mug behind.

[ghostiiess]

my love mine all mine - a sim jake imagine.

synopsis: in which jake decided to dance with you in his apartment kitchen at 3am while playing mitski’s songs

warnings: petnames (baby, princess)

words count: 954

type: fluff

pairing: !non-idol jake from enhypen x female reader!

author’s note: i wrote this while listening to this song… enjoy the imagine!!

english’s not my mother tongue… sorry if i made any mistakes!

You were just finishing cleaning the kitchen table where you and your boyfriend had eaten earlier in the evening when a small gesture slowly touched your back.

A soft melody you knew so well, Mitski's "My Love Mine All Mine," played in the background, adding a quiet and romantic ambiance to your boyfriend's messy apartment.

- My love...? he said so softly you thought he was whispering.

He turned you around with his hands on your hips, then gave you one of his charming smiles... Then you saw him. His white shirt was two buttons unbuttoned and looked wrinkled. He had probably forgotten to iron it... His brown hair was combed and sprayed so that nothing was out of place. His arms adorned with bracelets and his fingers with silver rings that made you fall in love all over again every time he wore them. His neat black pants, accompanied by his most beautiful black shoes, with his white shirt tucked around the belt, matched him perfectly. If you didn’t know any better, you could easily have thought he was straight out of a Cinderella movie: Jake looked like a real prince..

- Jake?

He made a face at you. He hated it when you called him that… His hand moved, letting his fingers take your left hand before spinning you around like a princess in a romantic movie, then letting go as if he hadn't evacuated the butterflies in your stomach.

- Would you dance with me, princess?" he asked, offering you his left hand, the same one he'd used to spin you around.

At that nickname, you grinned even wider, placed your right hand in his left, and watched as he led you toward the kitchen.

Still holding your hand, he stepped back a little, then moved his right knee on his left side as if he was bowing like a prince. Waiting your turn, you did the same and then saw him smile even wider. His smile was bright, brilliant, warm.

As he twirled you a second time, you saw him take your hand and place it on his hip as he intertwined your hands. As the music continued to play, Jake did a little dance step, then stopped.

- I'll try not to step on your feet...

You laughed softly, then began to dance with him. Your steps, your gestures, your dances were as majestic as swans. You moved with such grace and delicacy that you'd think the piano notes of the song were dancing with you as well.

- Do you remember that song?" he asked, and you nodded without hesitation.

Of course you do. It was the song you and Jake met to. You were studying your physics in the study hall of your school when you saw Jake come into the classroom with a wide-eyed look on his face.

‘Uh, excuse me? Do you know where Miss Catherine is? I've been looking for her since earlier, but she's nowhere to be found...' was the first sentence he said to you, before you realized that you were also waiting for her to explain the exercises. Maybe it was luck, maybe the universe had organized things so that you'd meet, but Miss Catherine had never come to explain the theory to you: Jake had. Things went on, and history was made: a friendship that turned into a love affair that seemed new, but had just passed the two-year mark last month.

- You stayed so long to help me with the theory," you replied, continuing the dance. We stayed so long that we almost got kicked out…

Your boyfriend nodded, then laughed. He twirled you once more, then kissed the palm of your hand.

- You're so beautiful, Y/N. You dance like a princess..

You smiled.

- You're dressed so elegantly, Jakey. I’m in my joggings while you’re literally wearing a prince’s outfit!

He shook his head.

- What are you talking about? You’re dressed just fine! You’re so beautiful.. I love this look on you, it might be my favourite..

While finishing his sentence, his nose moved closer to yours, and then your lips touched, causing the world to stop.

- Your lips are so soft. And...

Before Jake could continue, you rested back your lips on his. His arms moved down your back before returning to his original spot: your hips.

Your noses touched, then you saw the sweet smile Sim Jake had on his gentle face.

- I'm glad we met. I never thought I'd say this, but you're the one who brightens my day when I'm sad and makes me feel the best.

Before you could speak, Jake placed his index finger over your mouth, then shook his head.

- Shh! Let me do the talking, baby.

When he cleared his throat, his hands took yours:

- I want to keep living and dancing with you until our heads turn white and our grandchildren look at us and says ‘even at their age, their love is still strong’.

You couldn't help smiling.

- If you only knew how much I love you Y/N.

- I love you too, baby.

He placed his lips on yours, then turned you around one last time.

- As the song goes.... My love, mine, all mine...

Then, as if magnetized, your lips finished the dance together as the last notes of the song echoed through the kitchen, leaving incredible memories in your heads. It wasn't your last dance, far from it: the next one would probably be at your wedding, with the same song playing in the background, leaving your two smiles as the only source of light.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 3 MATCH 8

Gale propaganda:

“He is my cringe malewife I love him <3”

“Listen. Some may dunk on him for eating all of your magic artifacts (he only eats three!!) and others may dislike him for various bugs in his romance. But man oh man does this guy take devotion to the next level. He is such a romantic. Says the line "Whether I condemn this world or not, I choose you." after you successfully convince him to disobey his goddess who is also his ex girlfriend. He's a bit hungry for power, but in like, a sexy way, where he wants to get it to elevate you both to Godhood. And if you tell him that you want him for the man he is and not the God he aspires to be, he abandons that search for power and proposes. You can have wizard sex with him in the sky. His "rebellious streak" consists of staying up late reading and summoning a cat when his parents told him he couldn't have one, and also the aforementioned pursuit of godlike powers. What an absolute catch. He's always saying dramatic stuff in battle, but if you have him sneak around, he starts complaining like a grumpy old man. He's extra attracted to you when you're in battle. He has a bomb in his chest. And it is a very nice chest. Anyway. Boyfriend material.”

“This man is so sweet and idealistic. He wants everything about your romance to go perfectly like a fairy tale but that isn't really possible in apocalyptic settings, so he will use magic to help you forget  your surroundings when trying to be intimate to get as close as he can to perfect because he wants you to have the best. He is also attracted to literally all of your character and gets really turned on when you are musky and covered in blood after a battle. Just love my nerdy awkward horny romantic wizard.”

Bella propaganda:

“Bella Goth is a hot, rich MILF pre-made Sims that has been in every major Sims release. It's the Sims... you can date her, have an affair with her, convince her to leave her husband. (Or murder her husband, that's up to you.) She comes with the Good, Romantic, Gregarious and Family Orientated traits in Sims 4. I know that the Sims are all blank-slate, sandbox, do whatever you want games, but Bella Goth is pretty iconic and that's why I'm submitting her. 

In the Sims 2 she disappears via alien abduction and reappears with no memories in Strangetown. 

The Sims lore is pretty deep, although none of it is really featured per say in the game. Bella is descended from a long line of occultists, mystics and decadents, she has thrown convention to the wind. Her disdain for the pedestrian and normal is only matched by her sense of ennui and isolation. She distracts herself from this world with a little organ practice and exotic gardening of the lethal variety.”

[artdcnaldson]

I just started animal crossing because my asd family member didnt want to start it alone and the little yellow dog reminds me of Art, i just unlocked a flower crown and i feel like im dressing him up. Thinking about how i want to buy Art cute little clothes and smooch his face

If they played games, what games do you think art, tashi and patrick would play/ have on their phone? off of the top of my head patrick would have some old school shit like fruit ninja

Omg imagine they all play sims, arts got a little garden, patrick is having affairs, getting the characters pregnant with alien babies, loves creating drama and watching social services get involved, tashi is putting people in square walls and removing all the doors and windows til they starve to death 😍

This is SO TRUEEEE

in terms of 2006 era here are my thoughts:

For Art: he still plays Pokémon ruby and emerald on his gameboy advance. Its beat to shit and gets hot when he uses it but it tucks into his gym bag or pocket so he always keeps that thang on him. He would also have flappy bird on his iPod touch in 2012 and he would take that so seriously……..

For Patrick; he LOVESSS his PSP and his PlayStation. He plays GTA and hits pedestrians with his car and goes to the strip club. He also plays rollercoaster tycoon on his laptop in class and builds rollercoasters that launch the passengers into the ocean or sky.

For Tashi: nintenDOGS 💜 Tashi has a pastel pink Nintendo DS and she plays nintendogs and diner dash <3 her dogs are a black schnauzer like her dog that’s named after him, a white chihuahua named Cookie, and a chocolate lab named Marco. also she runs cooking mama kitchen like it’s the fucking NAVY. In downtime at tournaments and stuff she whips her DS out and goes crazy.

[yeoldecorprusarium]

Glassbury BaCC - Be'linn household

I can't help but feel really awkward when it comes to storytelling, lore and stuff, but here goes:

"After what felt like eons working in the depths of the Sixam Space Agency, Ka'aico was finally promoted from Paper Pusher to Colonizer, receiving a one-in-a-lifespan opportunity to move to Earth with his little sister to found a colony from scratch. If he succeeds, he may even be granted clearance to start a full blown invasion! Exciting, right? It would be, if he hasn't been warming up more and more to the alien species on the planet and having profane thoughts of (gasp!) assimilating into their society and living peacefully. To make matters worse, he's also stuck with his two good-for-nothing younger brothers who sneaked into his ship. Could the Be'linns and the group of simpletons, outcasts and naive alien obsessed sims make it all work?"

(Anyway, don't get used to this, I'm not really into storytelling, but the nhood can't just pop from nowhere. Also, I'm not a native speaker)

As you can tell, I didn't allow myself extra funds for decorations and landscaping this time around: we're doing things the hard way. Anyways, what I thought while furnishing this thing was basically that the family is in love with all the bright colors present on Earth, but don't really know what goes well with what and whatnot. They also think IKEA it's the coolest place in the world. So there's that.

I've been in love with this house for a while now, but since I don't play TS4 it's been a once sided affair until now mwahahaha

Unfortunately I cannot for the life of me find the OP/creator, so please let me know if you know who it is (since I straight up duped their lot)!

I just realised I could have added a lot more info on the sim panels lmao I need to go to bed

[stargazer-sims]

I'm making the rounds of my less-visited Brindleton Bay lots to check in on what the sims there are getting up to (and to see which household I might like to play for a while). First stop was Eden's house

Frankie probably should not consider quitting his day job to take up skating.

Meanwhile, Eden isn't even thinking about skating for once. He's thinking about Haru's invitation to join him (and the rest of the band & their entourage) in Sulani. Not only will he get to spend time on the beach with Haru, but he'll also be reunited with his brother Charlie, who is part of Sugar Valentine's stylist team.

Frankie will come too, of course. He won't say no to a free vacation and the chance to meet some nice Sulani girls.

For anyone who doesn't know, Frankie is Haru's personal assistant, who performs various tasks from bodyguard to driver to language interpreter. Sugar Valentine has their own security team (headed by the very capable Hwang Ji-Soo) and a whole range of other people to take care of all their needs, but when Haru is in Brindleton Bay with Eden, he needs someone to look after his security and help manage his daily affairs. That's where Frankie comes in.

Frankie lives at the house with Eden, and gets pald whether Haru is there or not. Eden isn't exactly thrilled with this, since there's virtually nothing for Frankie to do when Haru isn't there. To Eden, it's like having an unemployed roommate. He likes Frankie and considers him a friend, but he doesn't really think it's necessary for Frankie to be there when Haru isn't. Haru, however, thinks it's absolutely necessary for Frankie to be there to "protect" Eden and keep an eye on the property.

Both Eden and Frankie know that it's pointless to argue with Haru about this, so they've accepted that they're just going to have to coexist.

[yandereplumsim]

My Favourite trio of NPCs from The Sims 3. Maria Monty, Chiara Goth and Giulia Capp, all from the beautiful Monte Vista recreated for The Sims 4.

Been meaning to make them for the Sims 2 for a while, but somehow i never do. Anyways, they're not *perfect* recreations, mostly because i tried to make them look a bit like their "hypothetical" Sims 2 families.

Maria is Patrizio's younger sister who has been disowned by her parents; A terrible affair, something about putting Pineapple on the Pizza. Now she's trying to get back on her family's good graces by Delivering Pizza without Pineapple.

Chiara is one of the many Goths spread around the world, her wish to learn more about the mysterious sailor who seduced her great-grandmother many years ago is what has lead her to her current career.

Giulia is Contessa's youngest sister who was travelling with their father Octavius when he was killed at a Monte Vista Beach by a lighting. Shocked by this, she has decided to leave the family behind and take her life on her own hands.

Sims 4 doesn't allow me (?) to write little bios, so here you have them with my own head canons. If interested, you can download them on my gallery.

Will likely make them for the Sims 2 soon.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Birthday

the big day! 28th! happy bday wille! @youngroyals-events

Wille gets a real kid’s birthday.

read below the cut or on ao3. (T, 1.9k)

It isn’t until his 20th birthday that Wille really gets to acknowledge it’s his birthday and not hate the thought of it. 

His 18th birthday was a little overshadowed by the chaos of, you know, stepping down from the line of succession and sending the country into a media frenzy. Thank goodness Simon had been by his side, though; to ward off the unwanted attention from the tabloids, the irate criticism from the monarchists, and the ever-enclosing walls of Wille’s anxiety which was so tightly bound to the whole thing. Just like the year before, he’d woken Wille up with a song and a dry sandwich, except that year Wille didn’t have a breakdown, and they fell asleep happily wrapped in each other's arms.

The next year wasn’t bad by any means. In fact, it was really great. He, Simon, Felice and Sara went on a big trip to Amsterdam to celebrate their graduation. Wille didn’t mind that all the attention wasn’t on him. In fact, after the previous two years, he was more than happy to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. That it wasn’t actually meant to be the second official Wilhelmdagen; wasn’t another year his brother had missed. As was becoming tradition, Simon snuck downstairs to the kitchen of the hostel at which they’d been staying to put together a makeshift sandwich, and then whispered him a happy birthday song in the privacy of their tiny bunk. They’d all spent the day exploring the city and getting high in the park, giggling and joking about the terrifying yet glorious affair that was post-graduation. 

So, when the first year of university is coming to a close and Simon asks him what he wants to do for his 20th birthday, he shrugs.

“We don’t need to do anything,” he says, looking up from his book where he’d been lounging and reading in a spot of sun. It’s a warm, breezy day in late April, and the sounds of the city that drift in the window of their shared apartment is a nice background noise.

Though it had been a scary decision to make, both he and Simon thought it might be nice to study abroad for a while, to escape the scrutinizing eyes of Sweden after all the drama. And so, after many teary goodbyes, they’d swept off to New York. Wille enjoyed the anonymity and Simon enjoyed the music scene. They wouldn’t stay in the States forever, but it felt real and adult to make this big move and go through so many huge life events together. That being said, after that first year at Hillerska, Wille is sure he and Simon could weather any storm, as long as they had each other.

“Are you sure?” Simon runs a hand through Wille’s hair, cut short ahead of the hot summer. He folds his book and grabs Simon’s hips, guiding him to sit in his lap. “Not even a small party? We could invite some friends over for a game night like normal, just this time we all wear silly party hats.”

Wille smiles at the care Simon was showing, both of them still aware of the awful memories of his 17th, which still sting to think about. He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Whatever.” He presses an innocent kiss to Simon’s neck, then lingers there, inhaling his scent. “I just want my sandwich and my song. And you in my bed.”

Giggles vibrate through Simon’s throat. “You have me in our bed every day.”

“It’s never enough!” he exclaims, standing them up and throwing a squealing Simon over his shoulder to carry off to bed.

It isn’t until a few days later that Simon returns to the topic, bounding into their bedroom and looking at Wille with wide, excited eyes. It’s the kind of look he has before Wille finds himself dressed in a onesie and cowboy hat, dancing on a small stage at some random club in Brooklyn at 4am. The things Simon is able to convince him to do – and sober, no less – are boundless. He sits up a little straighter in anticipation of whatever nonsense idea Simon has concocted this time.

“I have the best idea,” Simon grins maniacally, bouncing from foot to foot. Wille raises an eyebrow. “For your birthday.”

“Does it have to do with the extra bed time I requested?” he asks, smirking.

“No,” Simon drawls. “Don’t worry about it. Just clear that whole day. I will take care of everything.”

He moves forward again and grabs Wille’s face, squishing his cheeks, then says, very seriously, “It’s going to be perfect.”

“Okay,” Wille agrees, the sound muffled by his smushed face.

It seems his original prediction hadn’t been entirely off base. On the morning of his birthday, Simon wakes him with a song, a sandwich, and a kiss, then disappears. A few minutes later he returns with a big paper bag and empties the contents onto their bed. The sheer number of bright colors hurts Wille’s eyes this early in the morning.

“Is this my present?” he asks hesitantly, eyeing the goods. He spots a bright pink graphic t-shirt, a few party hats, a tiara, and some deflated balloons.

“Yes!” Simon exclaims. “Well, kind of. Today, my love, you are having the birthday you never got because you were too busy being a stuffy prince. No offense.”

“Okay.” Wille tilts his head in confusion, though he can’t help but smile softly at Simon’s excitement. “What does that mean?”

“First, put this on.” He holds up the pink graphic tee, which Wille gapes at, now that he can see the whole front. There’s some kind of mouse mascot dressed in a shirt and hat, and the text reads ‘Birthday Boy! 10! Wille!’ in big, block letters.

“I’m not turning 10,” Wille grumbles, slowly taking the shirt. He thinks Simon might have lost it.

“Look,” Simon grins, taking off his sweatshirt. “I even have a matching one!”

Wille bursts into laughter. Simon has definitely lost it.

The shirt does in fact match Wille’s, with the same oversaturated colors and slightly off-putting mouse character, except the text instead says ‘Daddy of the Birthday Boy!’. Not only that, but the shirt is one size too small, tight across Simon’s chest and the bottom only reaching an inch above his belly button. Despite how ridiculous it is, Wille is not too opposed to the sight of Simon in a crop top.

Once he’s got his laughter under control, Wille pulls on his own shirt. It’s a crop top on him as well. Simon sheepishly tells him that they were cheap and he’d shrunk them a bit in the dryer on accident. Wille could not care less. He finds the whole thing incredibly endearing, and they lose a bit of time when Wille pulls Simon back into the bed with him.

“Okay!” Simon shouts, finally pulling away. “We have things to accomplish today. I have big plans for you, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

“Do you now?” Wille asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

Simon rolls his eyes and presses a finger into Wille’s chest, pushing him away.

“I am going to show you the wonders of the world today, baby. In the form of sticky floors and questionable pizza. The American Dream!”

After donning their full outfits for the day – Simon with a party hat and Wille with his princess tiara – they head out for the day.

Their first stop is laser tag. The people at the front desk give them very odd looks, because they are grown men joining up with a bunch of preteens, but Wille can’t bring himself to care. Simon looks so excited, and he’s just so touched that his dear boyfriend went to all this effort. Plus, he loves laser tag.

They end up on opposite teams. Simon is ruthless, appearing around every corner to take Wille down no matter how far he runs or how well he hides. They shriek and yell at each other, louder than any of the kids, and sprint across the obstacles courses, trying to get the jump on the other. Three games later, Wille is winded and his face hurts from smiling so hard. After eating some, indeed, very questionable pizza, they stop in the bathroom to clean up. Standing next to each other in the mirror, they make googly eyes and silly faces. Turning to face one another, Simon reaches up to straighten his tiara and Wille fixes the string on his party hat.

Heart bursting with love, Wille whispers, “Thank you for this.”

Simon smiles and Wille swears the colors around them grow brighter. “Don’t thank me yet! We’re not done.”

The next stop is a trampoline park, which Wille has never even heard of before. A whole warehouse, a ridiculous size that could only be an American concept, filled with trampolines, foam pits, and screaming children. It’s perfect.

They swap out their shoes for grippy socks and chase each other out onto the floor. They play each other in basketball on a trampoline court, Wille jumping over Simon’s head to dunk the ball, then tackling each other to the ground to fight for it. Next, they get roped into a game of dodgeball with a group of nine-year-olds. Everyone gangs up on Wille and he ends up curled up in a corner, being pelted by an army of children and his boyfriend, who looks way too pleased by the situation. Finally, they have a jumping competition into the foam pit. Simon wins with his double backflip – which, who even knew he could do a backflip, much less two – but Wille is still quite proud of his toe-touch jump. Afterwards, they share a slushie in the parking lot, sitting on a curb and smiling at each other like idiots.

Late that afternoon, feeling sticky and sweaty but so fulfilled, they stumble back home to shower off. Wille thanks Simon thoroughly but is again told they’re not quite finished. They can’t change back into their matching shirts for the last activity of the night, too covered in mysterious liquids from their events of the day, so they opt for more adult-clothing. Wille keeps the tiara, though.

Simon leads them to a bowling alley, which they’ve been to a few times already, but this time Simon has rented out the party room and invited the few friends they’d made here in the city.

The employees at the bowling alley have really gone all out with the decorations. Purple and pink streamers span the entire ceiling, interspersed with dozens of balloons. A big sign on the wall says ‘Happy Birthday Willie!’ and he can’t even find it in him to be angry at the misspelling.

They bowl for hours, talking and laughing and overall causing a major ruckus. His friends have all gotten him stupid gag gifts, which is perfect and so much better than any stuffy tie or fancy cufflinks like he was used to as a prince. Wille keeps catching Simon staring at him with a big, happy grin. He looks radiant, so much better than that awful day a few years ago.

“I’m so glad you’ve had fun today,” he says later, arms wrapped around Wille, looking up at him with tired eyes.

“Today was perfect, Simon.” He presses a kiss to Simon’s forehead. “Thank you so much. Best 10th birthday ever.”

Simon giggles. “You deserve it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Birthday, Wille.”  

[anamoon63]

The other reason of Tyron and Candice's marriage falling apart is Ty's obsession with this young fan of him, Katie O'Dourke. Tyron's brothers have advised or rather begged him to stay away from Katie until he's divorced in order to avoid problems with Katie's father, university professor Liam O'Dourke, who doesn't sim to like Tyron at all. It doesn't help that Katie is also bewitched with Ty.

All that remains is to pray Candice grants Ty the divorce quick, cause, for Katie's parents, if Tyron is really interested in Katie, he'll have to propose to her and marry her before starting any kind of relationship. I don't think getting a divorce is the problem, since Candice is more urgent about it than Tyron is, the real issue is going to be the fight over Brandi's legal custody.

Disclaimer: Katie's pic posted above is from when she and Tyron first met as he delivered a sing-a-gram from her parents. Katie was a teen then, but shortly after she became a young adult, so nothing illegal here. Note and possible spoiler: The Katie affair is not even the tip of the iceberg of problems that await Tyron, clearly not the wisest of the Cho Brothers. 🙄

So, these are the most relevant events occurred in Hidden Springs since Dale and Kelly left for college for their last term. I thought I should update you on what's happened to Tyron, the older of The Cho Brothers and the other people in his life. Talking about side stories 😉

[mindshelter]

the premise of the original sm2099 series opened up so many avenues for worldbuilding with respect to social structure and its corresponding, inbuilt inequities that enforce the dystopian nature of the setting itself. the evil is in the minutae, you know! the foundations are there. are burials feasible at all if the city is built on the bones of another? how impersonal of an affair are death rituals? if alchemax is the only authorized distributor of rapture, what else do they have exclusive rights to? insulin? epipens?

in miguel's case i'm especially fascinated with what his education as a geneticist actually looked like. the latter half of the 20th century (and, incidentally, when sm2099 was being written) was riddled with biomedical controversy and discussions with how scientific progress and the basic respect for human rights should not be opposing forces. it's not a coincidence that the first life the corporate raiders project takes is a prisoner's. sims could not truly give his consent; "consent" with the incentive of less jail time is by definition coercion. by 1990, similar incidents in the us prison system itself were well-known.

like nueva was built overtop the skeletons of downtown—which is now where society's poorest (which are disproportionately people of colour) are kept out of sight and out of mind—the extent of miguel's body of knowledge as a biological scientist exists because of the abuses incurred, again, most often by poor people of colour. miguel didn't know downtown even existed—does he know about the history of his discipline?

(not to the extent he should. the revelation would have shattered him even earlier, knowing he was repeating history's mistakes.)

i'm losing steam here, but i think the main idea is that sm2099 and miguel's radicalization has the potential to facilitate a much more nuanced discussion of what makes nueva york such a morally bankrupt place, and sm2099's concept itself as predictive of where the creative team believed the world was headed. i wish we had seen him in the lab more. i wish the conflict between him and tyler focused more on miguel desperately, desperately trying to negotiate more time before they resumed human experimentation—just until he could tear this entire institution to the ground. there is no salvaging this place.

[formula-fun]

Pacific rim au snippet?? for us to live a little happier in coming days ksjadjshs? 👀

i am pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead

The day Sebastian Vettel descends on the Faenza Academy, four things happen.

First, a series of rumors fly across the entirety of base. Charles is ninety percent sure they’re George’s doing, but the way they telephone between the cadets is truly a modern marvel. In the morning the word is that Vettel is visiting to scope out the cadets to select his new copilot, never mind that none of them have ever even drifted in their lives. By noon the story has been transformed into a harrowing tale involving Vettel, a recent Kaiju attack in Cabo, and a torrid affair with Director Binotto’s wife.

“Did you hear about Binotto’s wife?” George asks during lunch, eyes wide.

“That was your rumor, idiot,” Alex tells him. “Obviously it’s not true. Binotto doesn’t even have a wife.”

By that afternoon, it’s rumored that Binotto lost his wife in a Kaiju attack in Cabo, where she bravely fought in a top-secret test jaeger as Vettel’s copilot.

The second thing that happens is training is suspended for a full day. Truthfully, Charles thinks this should be the real source of rumors, but they’re all so burned out none of the cadets want to question having a day off. It doesn’t mean they actually take the day off—they’re too bored for that, and they’ve forgotten how to do anything else than train relentlessly and occasionally study the odd K-Science journal.

Still, the Director, his assistants, half the training staff and Vettel all spend the morning locked in a conference room doing god knows what.

“They ordered pizza about an hour ago,” Alex tells him. He’s been pretending to read Jaeger Daily for two hours, sprawled out on a towel stolen from the bathroom while he pretends not to watch the Operations building from behind his sunglasses. “I heard you can predict a war based on how often the militaries order pizza. It means they’re planning something.”

“This is Italy,” Pierre says, unbothered, stripped shirtless and sprawled out in the sun a few paces away. “They order pizza literally every day.”

Alex hums. “And they got affogatos.”

“Affogatos?! Mon Dieu. Call the press.”

It probably means nothing, but it’s certainly strange—the conference, not the pizza. Vettel is a well-known face not just in the Jaeger program, but in the world. He was confirmed into the program just a handful of months earlier after having matched with some kid in Australia, and once their Jaeger goes into service he’ll be the first European ranger ever. It’s not a great statistic, seeing as there have only been six rangers in active combat in the history of the planet, but it’s still something.

The Faenza school is small, and often forgotten; most of the European academies are the same way. That’s why it’s even stranger that Vettel is here, of all places.

The third thing that happens that day is Charles kicks Max’s ass in the Kwoon. It’s not related to Vettel in any way, but it’s still funny.

Charles’ first impression of Max when they met eight months ago was that he’s too serious. His eyes are shaped like half-moons, clearly designed for laughing, but he frowns all the time. His lower lip juts out a little, petulant. Charles’ dad used to scold Charles for pouting like that when he was little, warning him his face would get stuck like that, and if Charles was too old for it at seven then Max is much too old for it at sixteen. It’s possible that his face is stuck like that, in fact, since the months that Charles has known him he hasn’t relaxed once. 

He doesn’t relax while training. He doesn’t relax in the rec room. He doesn’t relax while eating—if anything he’s the least relaxed doing that, shoveling food into his mouth like he’s about to be called to attention at any second. His frown lingers as they run laps of the dusty base in Faenza, the sun beating down hot and unrelenting, and while he’s training on the sim: thirteen drops and eleven kills, a record that’s second best only to Charles’ own.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” Max had said when Charles had stepped out of the sim for the first time, exactly one kill to his name. He doesn’t say that the second time, or the third, or the fourth.

Like Charles said. No sense of humor.

Max is good at Muay Thai, which pisses Charles off to no end. It’s not that Charles is bad at it, he’s just been a little shorter than Max and a lot more wiry for the entire time they’ve known each other. Max is gangly too, but his legs are stronger, a fact that Charles has learned on more than one occasion by catching a knee straight to the solar plexus—a blow which Max barely has to strain to deliver. They’ve sparred—fought, really—enough times now for Charles to know that no matter how quick he can be, Max still has a serious physical advantage.

“Teach me Judo,” he told his trainer the fifth time Max pressed him out of the ring during a training session—a fight—with a heavy offense and pointy elbows, the director’s assistant watching from the corner and taking notes on a clipboard.

“We don’t usually teach that,” Andrea told him. “You’ll never beat a kaiju by throwing it.”

“I want to beat him.” At Andrea’s hesitation he added, “I’ll train extra. I don’t care.”

So Andrea started teaching him Judo; and on the day that Vettel arrives at the academy Charles steps into the ring with Max, letting him get two swings in before grabbing his wrist, using his momentum against him and flipping him square over his shoulder.

Max hits the mat hard enough that the sound echoes through the empty kwoon.

“Judo isn’t on the training list,” Max gripes, pushing himself up and rolling over to clutch at his nose. “Fuck.”

“I’m just adapting to the style of my opponent,” Charles says flatly. “As any good ranger would do.”

“I hate you,” Max tells him, dabbing at his nose—entirely for dramatic effect, since there isn’t a drop of blood in sight and Charles is pretty sure he didn’t even hit him there—and then spins on the mat to kick Charles’ feet out from under him.

Charles goes toppling, landing with a grunt, which is the moment Max decides to try to wrestle him. A horrible decision, really. Max is shit at wrestling. It takes all of thirty seconds for Charles to pin him, catching his left arm in an ude-garami, which is the exact moment that the door swings open.

“Ah,” Director Binotto says. “Leclerc and Verstappen, some of the brightest in our youth program.”

“Let me up,” Max hisses through his teeth, his breath hot against his ear, but Charles just tightens his grip.

“You haven’t tapped out,” Charles replies, holding Max down with his own chest as he twists Max’s elbow. Max lets out a string of noises that sound very Dutch and very rude.

“They do look it,” someone says blandly, and when he looks up Charles is greeted by the sight of Sebastian Vettel standing over him.

He springs to his feet, snapping to attention. Max follows suit, albeit a little slower.

“Relax,” Vettel says. “We don’t stand on rank in the kwoon. I thought that was the first rule of training,” he adds, raising his voice a little.

Binotto shrugs. “We do things differently here.”

Vettel’s eyebrows flash up, then back down again. He ignores the director, giving them both an easy smile, and Charles and Max’s hands fall away at the same time. “I’ve never visited any of the youth programs, but I’ve heard great things,” he says. “How long have you been training?”

“Eight months, sir,” Charles says.

“Please, it’s Sebastian. You’ve been here since the opening of the academy, then,” Sebastian says, his mouth forming into a C shape. “And you’ve been training to be copilots?”

Charles looks at Max, who’s already looking back. His mouth is pouty again, his eyebrows furrowed. Too serious.

“Our cadets did not begin the matching process until last week,” Binotto says, stepping forward to take his place at Sebastian’s side. “We have been training them as a group in the hopes that compatibility would be demonstrated organically, and for the most part that has proved to be successful.”

“How so?”

Binotto lets out a little hum. “Some pairs we brought in together proved to be compatible—siblings, best friends. Other times this proved to be the opposite. And then of course, some compatible pairs just find each other. We had our suspicions, but neural aptitude tests only confirmed it.”

Charles frowns, a protest poised behind his teeth.

“And you two train on the sim together?” Sebastian asks them, his face open.

“No,” Max says. “We only train solo.”

“What are your scores?”

“Thirteen drops, eleven kills.”

“Thirteen, twelve,” Charles adds, and can’t bite down the smug smile when Max shoots a glare his way.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, blowing out a breath. He looks to Binotto, who raises his eyebrows with a small smile.

“That’s impressive,” Sebastian says. “You both want to be rangers one day?”

“Yes, sir,” they say, and it unfortunately comes out in perfect unison.

Sebastian looks at them for a long beat, a serene smile on his face. “I’m not here at an official capacity. I’m just here to scope out the copilot matches in our youth program. You probably already had some idea that you’re drift compatible,” he says, which Charles was not aware of at all, and then while he’s still reeling from that piece of information, “but the tests last week identified you at somewhere between ninety nine point seven and ninety nine point nine percent.”

“That’s not right,” Max blurts out. “We’re not compatible.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “Neural tests prove otherwise. So do fighting styles and sim scores, from the looks of it.”

“But we don’t get along.”

“That doesn’t always mean something.” He tilts his head. “If this comes as a surprise, it might be helpful to know that compatibility is about balance as much as it’s about similarities. You might see differences in each other, but in a Jaeger those things will become complementary parts.”

Charles can’t hold back a tiny scoff. What’s supposed to be complementary about Max? His bullheadedness? His ability to eat food faster than the mess hall can produce it?

“Gentlemen,” Binotto says, which is another first—Binotto has never called them that in their lives. “The Jaeger Program needs cadets. Not just rangers, but mechanics, strategists, engineers, support coordinators, biologists, neuroscientists—we need personnel, and now that the academy is on its feet and more jaegers are going into service, it’s time to identify who is part of a viable drift pairing, and who would be better suited to a different division.”

At his side, Max sucks in a short breath, barely audible. Charles himself straightens. He knows a threat when he hears one.

“We’d like to start a project to test drift compatibility through a rudimentary neural handshake,” Binotto says, “and we’re going to be testing that project on you.”

And that’s how the fourth thing happens.

[charles-leclerc-official]

Lewis Hamilton to Ferrari

All my thoughts about this 2025 historic transfer. I want to say that a lot of this is up in the air as there is no way to know for sure until we see tyres on the track, but here is what I think about the situation as it relates to all major players involved.

Why is Lewis leaving?

I think that even though the announcement was sudden it's not a total shock when you think about the reasons Lewis might not want to stay at Mercedes.

Yes, Mercedes has been his home for 11 years and gave him 6 WDC. However since 2021 he's been increasingly unhappy with the direction the team have taken the car. That in addition to the way management has been handling things over there it seems like Mercedes are not really doing what needs to be done to compete seriously with Red Bull in the coming years.

Not feeling listened to or properly valued at a team is really difficult for drivers. I think after so long Mercedes started taking Lewis for granted and expecting him to work miracles with a substandard car. He's done sim work in the 2024 merc car and it may be so far off his expectations that he realized he can no longer accomplish what he wants to at Mercedes.

The odd thing though is that he was seemingly pretty happy at Mercedes, at the very least talking about retiring with them, and a brand ambassadorship after. Whatever happened at Mercedes recently was enough to break his faith in the team and possibly his trust. Did Toto over promise and severely underdeliver?

There is a lot we are missing in terms of what was going on behind the scenes. There may have been one moment or race that was the last straw for Hamilton, but unless he tells us we can only speculate. I'd expect more specifics about this in the coming weeks. How Lewis talks about the split will tell us a lot.

Why Ferrari?

There are two big reasons why Lewis would want to join Ferrari as his next team

1 . Ferrari's upward trajectory and Fred Vasseur

Now for those who haven't been following Ferrari this may seem like a bad move. However Fred Vasseur took over as team principal at Scuderia Ferrari at the beginning of 2023 replacing Binotto. Since then he has been making big changes at Ferrari, hiring engineers from Red Bull and Mercedes, firing half the old team. He has been really doing the work to get Ferrari competitive internally.

Things are looking better for Ferrari under his leadership, in the next few years we have the possibility of seeing some very competitive cars coming out of Ferrari.

Also Fred and Lewis are close, they have history, that connection probably wasn't difficult for either of them to make.

So Lewis probably saw the appeal of the team that Fred is assembling and thought it looks a lot better than the current state of affairs at Mercedes.

2 . Ferrari's historic/legacy appeal

It's like they always say "Everyone is a Ferrari fan"

Ferrari is one of the greatest teams in F1 with the highest number of WDC and WCC wins. Many of the legends of the sport have done seasons at Ferrari. It is considered one of the dream teams to race for, with good reason. To drive with Ferrari is to add your name to a list of legends.

Lewis has always been a Ferrari fan. He's even said that he has thought about driving for them and even ending his career with them. The name carries prestige. And Lewis is probably thinking about where and when he wants to retire.

There were Hamilton retirement rumors not too long ago. I still think he has an idea of when he wants to retire, and he wants to do it in style(which in this case means in red)

Retiring with Ferrari carries this romantic grandeur to it. He's probably always wanted to do a season or two there and Mercedes just never gave him a reason. Well it seems now they have.

Even if he doesn't get his eighth WDC or even another P1 at Ferrari, it may be better to finish at a historic team he has respect for than to keep racing until Mercedes has used him up.

He has literally done so many things in F1 one of the few things he hasn't done is drive for Ferrari. It does make sense from the legacy career end perspective as well.

For new fans or DTS fans who think "Ferrari is a bad team they are terrible at strategy and always mess up" the times are changing. Forget everything you know/have come to expect, and wait for results. Ferrari aren't going anywhere, and will always be F1 legends.

Bonus reason 2.5: Lewis obviously wants to continue racing for a top team. If he doesn't want to stay at Mercedes where else is he supposed to go? No way would that work at Red Bull. Mclaren are already set, and Aston Martin aren't competitive enough. Ferrari is actually the only option that makes any real sense.

What about Charles?

Charles Leclerc just resigned with Ferrari on a multi-year contract(rumored to be a 2+2 deal, at this moment it's really hard to get accurate numbers on that) Fred Vasseur and the Ferrari team have said that he is the number one priority and that the technical development around the car is based on his feedback.

So what does this mean for Lewis?

Well Lewis is smart, he went into this knowing full well everything that Ferrari have been saying about prioritizing Charles. He isn't joining with the expectation that Charles is going to be his #2.

This is an area where we really need to see how the team manages two competitive drivers on the track in terms of strategy calls.

Charles is not going to tolerate #2 treatment. He sure as hell isn't going to back down from the challenge of having a WDC teammate.

There is the potential to see them being a real power duo on the track in 2025.

Charles also reportedly knew about Lewis, and wouldn't re-sign with Ferrari unless he really believed they were going to give him priority and had a chance of delivering a championship worthy car in the coming years(if not he has exit clauses) Charles isn't stupid either, he weighed all the options and decided that partnering with a multiple time WDC would be a welcome challenge and a push for his own career.

In 2019 when Charles joined Ferrari with Vettel he didn't back down from the challenge. In a competitive car we are going to see him shine on the track regardless of who his teammate is.

Charles also has battled Lewis and won, he's in his prime as a driver and he is certainly one for a challenge. If you think that Charles is going to be overshadowed by Lewis. Think again.

Lewis also has always been supportive of Charles and recognized his talents. I can see him potentially being a really great teammate for him. Charles also has always listed Hamilton as an inspiration, so these two do have a lot of mutual respect. The chemistry between them could really be legendary.

Let's be realistic. Lewis is the older more experienced driver. He is heading towards retirement, while Charles is in his prime. Charles is the future of Ferrari, that much is clear. This doesn't mean that Lewis isn't still an insanely skilled driver, and we may see wins from him at Ferrari. But at this stage of his career he isn't the one who is going to be shaping the team long term.

Another important thing to remember is that Charles has the experience specifically with Ferrari. He's been through it with them, he'll probably be helping Hamilton deal with some of Ferrari's possible shortcomings.

Looking at this driver lineup and assuming that this means Charles is no longer the top priority at Ferrari, or that he will be taking a back seat to Lewis is insane to me. He's one of the best drivers on the grid, and he does have to beat Lewis one way or another if he wants that first WDC.

If you don't think Charles is at the center of the future of Ferrari, you haven't been paying attention.

From Ferrari's Perspective

I mean the clear winner here is Ferrari. A Leclerc-Hamilton lineup is probably going to be the strongest on the 2025 grid.

If they are serious about Charles being number 1 and helping him get that first WDC, then Lewis' experience will be valuable in helping achieve that.

If there are times when Charles is out due to a DNF, or struggling with the car for whatever reason, Lewis is going to be able to really deliver on picking up points. It's almost a guaranteed at P2 in constructor's, and competitive when gunning for P1.

Ferrari probably want two drivers that will be consistently pulling podiums, and Lewis can sure as hell do that alongside Charles.

Charles is loved by Ferrari and the Tifosi, they aren't going to hang him out to dry in favor of Lewis. It would create a nightmare for the team. While Binotto might not have been smart enough to see that, Fred is smart enough to value Charles and his abilities. He knows that Charles will walk the moment he doesn't feel like Ferrari are valuing him.

Hamilton is certainly someone who could push Charles in the right ways to get him that first WDC.

But having a more mature multi-WDC driver in the second seat just makes a crazy strong driver lineup.

It's also one of the most brilliant moves in Formula 1 history. By getting Lewis from Mercedes Vasseur has crippled a rival team. They now have to scramble for a replacement, and no one is going to be able to really replace Lewis. The only driver who may come close is Alonso, and that is if Mercedes can get him(assuming Alonso isn't planning to retire at the end of the year)

This also throws the rest of the 2024/2025 driver market into further chaos. Red Bull likely didn't see this coming. They have a seat to fill in 2024 and now they have to consider that they will be going against a Leclerc-Hamilton lineup. Their expectations have been shattered and now they are probably re-thinking who is going to get that RB seat beside Max.

Now this may harken back to 2020 and how Ferrari handled Vettel. Well that was under Binotto. Fred has not given me a reason(yet) to think that 2025 and beyond would be similar. When talking about Ferrari and how they are going to manage things please remember A LOT has changed in the last year in terms of management.

With this move Vasseur revealed just how much bigger his plan for Ferrari really is.

This may be the ushering in of the next Ferrari golden age. We can only wait with baited breath to see.

What about Sainz?

It would not be right to talk about this without discussing Sainz.

This is not going to be a Sainz hate section, but I am going to need everyone to take a deep breath and be realistic with me here.

Over the last 2 months we've heard a lot of rumors regarding Sainz and Ferrari not being able to reach an agreement when it comes to his contract. Clearly this whole thing with Lewis has been coming for longer than we all realized.

It is possible that Sainz pushing Ferrari for a longer contract forced their hand to reveal that they'd already secured Lewis. It is also very likely that the rumors that they wanted to renew for one year are completely false and 2024 was always going to be his last year at Ferrari.

It's not really a contest when comparing Sainz to Hamilton. Who would you realistically rather have on your team? Sainz is a solid driver, but he has struggled with the development direction at Ferrari.

Additionally the dynamic between Sainz and Leclerc on the track and as teammates as a whole may be working out far worse than Ferrari had hoped. When Fred came in and said "we are going to have a number one driver" that is a big change in the philosophy of the team, very different than when Sainz joined. It may be that he simply isn't a good fit for the new direction at Ferrari.

Sainz also has not been handling things well in the press on his end. A lot of his attempts at negotiation may have really been detrimental to his position.

And yes he had the only non-Red Bull win in 2023. But the most important thing to remember about that win is that he didn't have to seriously battle Max to get it. Red Bull struggled unusually during Singapore, and that was massive in leading to a non RB victory.

The path to victory for Ferrari involves drivers who can compete with Max in equal conditions. Charles has proved multiple times that he can do that. He was one of the few drivers to seriously compete with Max this last season. Carlos simply hasn't been able to do that. In his own words he was scared that Max wasn't even pushing the car's full potential every race. A driver who is scared of Max because he has never really had to contend with him due to reasons outside his control is not "Take down Red Bull material"

This may seem harsh or like I am hating on Carlos, but I am being realistic. That is the way the stage is set. He isn't a bad driver by any means.

Ultimately it comes down to the fact that Sainz isn't the best fit at Ferrari in the long-term for a variety of reasons.

How the News Broke

This is where I am probably going to do the most speculation.

But I think based on the way this came out that this was not how or when any parties involved were meant to find out.

Ferrari didn't have anything prepared. They always are very considered about posts and press releases. To not have graphics ready to announce Sir Lewis Hamilton joining the team? No way. They weren't ready for the announcement.

Adding on to that they clearly weren't ready with how they were going to post about Carlos' last year. It may seem disrespectful, but they simply weren't ready with the posts, articles and team statements. I don't think that any of it was to intentionally disrespect Carlos.

I think it's very obvious that this leaked early. From which party I cannot tell, but it's pretty clear no one was ready.

Someone forced the news.

So that makes all of this come across way worse for Carlos and Mercedes. Rumor has it Carlos may have known for a few weeks now, so that would leave Mercedes the only party truly blindsided.

Timeline of Events

Based on the information we currently have here is roughly how I think things played out.

According to Toto he and Lewis were on the same page going into Christmas 2023.

Meaning something changed in a few short weeks for Lewis to make a change.

We keep hearing that roughly three weeks ago was when Ferrari potentially reached out again to Lewis.

So here is what I think might have gone down.

Ferrari had already secured Lewis for 2026, at the end of his new Mercedes Contract. This lines up with rumors that they were open to offering Carlos a 1 year extension.

However Sainz stalled negotiations, demanding a 2 year extension. Ferrari can't agree to that since they already got Lewis.

So Ferrari reached out to Lewis, possibly sweetening the deal to opt out of his Mercedes contract a year early. At this point Lewis has spent some time in the Mercedes simulator for the 2024 car and it may be well off his expectations. So he agrees.

Then the rumor starts spreading and eventually the inevitable has to be confirmed. Lewis is joining Ferrari in 2025 and Carlos is out of his seat at the end of the 2024 season.

I could be way off, but this at the very least makes some sense to me.

Final Thoughts

I am cautiously optimistic on what this means for Ferrari and Charles moving into 2025(this is a Charles blog you know I am most focused on his career) I am going to trust the team and vision Fred Vasseur has until he gives me a good reason not to.

Winners and Losers

There are some clear winners and losers here.

Winners: Ferrari, George Russell Losers: Mercedes, Carlos Sainz I say Ferrari because clearly this strong of a driver lineup is great as a team. I will wait to see if this ends up being a winning driver pairing for Charles and Lewis though.

George Russell is also suddenly the star at Mercedes. He is going to have the opportunity to really prove himself, after being #2 to Lewis for so many years I'm sure this change will be beneficial to his career(assuming he can step up and Merc give him a drivable car)

Mercedes just somehow fumbled one of the greatest drivers in the history of Formula 1. No way to really spin that as anything but a major blow to the team.

Sainz also is the victim of bad timing, a changing team, and not being able to compete with Lewis. It isn't fair, but this sport is brutal and we knew this was a possibility. Hopefully this means he will be able to find a team that better suits his goals/driving style.

However you want to view it, this is one of the biggest driver transfers in the history of the sport. It will be historic to see Lewis don Ferrari red alongside Charles.

Here is to a strong 2025 for Charles and Lewis.

Forza Ferrari

[lynzishell]

✨23 Faves of 2023✨

I've been tagged on a few different versions of this throughout the month. For mine, I've decided to take 23 moments from my story and share them in chorological order. 💖TYSM for tagging me @hannahssimblr, @jarakio, @rebouks, @theosconfessions, @bloomingkyras, @igotsnothing 💖 I'm sorry if I missed anyone... I'm usually better at keeping note of who tagged me but I dropped the ball on this one and had to search through my mentions lol!

Alright... let's dive in shall we?

✨First up: Looooook at baby Phoenix 🥹 hehe! This was the first time he visited Mt Komorebi and the first time he saw snow... sparking his love affair with both. If you listen carefully, you can hear Wolfgang yelling in the distance, "Yo Penis!" (I miss that nickname. Special thanks to Becca for never letting it die 😅)

✨Ahhh The Bluffs -- I think this is my favorite lot in game, and look how stunning it is at sunset! This is from Phoenix's 18th birthday... aka that fateful night when [redacted] was [redacted]

✨Just me being obsessed with San Myshuno... particularly the Spice District. This is from Phoenix and Dawn's movie night... back when they were still just friends/co-workers.

✨Eeee this moment still gives me all the feels! When these two finally crossed the line from friends to lovers.

✨This one doesn't need a caption... just look at them... and the vibrant colors... 😍

✨The moment they became official

✨Falling in looooooove

✨I don't know why, but this is actually my favorite pic of them

✨Greta returns...lol! It was actually unintentional how well these two match the environment, but it made taking screenies so fun!

✨My second favorite pic of these two... *sigh* just look at them

✨Enter my Asher obsession... I can't tell you how happy I was when I found this pose because this is exactly how I envisioned him entering the room... against the door frame all leaned over and relaxed... even the way his feet are crossed and his left arm just hangs... it's just sooo HIM.

✨I mean... ahhh! I love him! and Lex too lol... we don't see much of her in my story, but these two have been BFFs since middle school. She's super sweet and funny.

✨Atlas and Asher, my loves. There's so much in this scene for me... I had such a clear picture of it in my mind looong before I created it in sims, and I was pretty happy with how it came out. And the song I used was very purposeful (even if I never state why lol) This moment here was actually quite self-indulgent if I'm honest.

✨Yep, still obsessed with these two lol! I just love this shot... the colors and the way they're holding each other. This is actually the desktop background on my laptop lmao

✨I had soooo much fun making this post!! Omg this song is so fkin good! I'll probably reblog this post on New Year's just for funzies 😊

✨Back to Phoenix and Dawn as they prepare to move in together... Had to get a shot of the fountain before saying goodbye to the Spice District

✨Ahaa and here we are.. beginning the journey up Mt Komorebi! I think this little bridge is my favorite spot along the way. It's really cool, and I got lots of great screenies from all angles. I really like this one.

✨Love how this shot came out! We all know this moment, yeah? Right before Dawn [redacted]

✨Yay! Celebrating the fact they made it to the summit... enjoy you two, you earned it!

✨Me carefully side-stepping the sad posts... love this moment of the two of them reconnecting... with the water and the city in the background... I just think it's nice.

✨Relaxing in their favorite summer spot... I love all the blues

✨I really like this shot from Kiyoshi and Kaori's wedding, with only their ceremony in the distance in focus, and the vibrant colors.

✨This seemed like a nice one to end on. I love the snow falling out the window, and the way Dawn is lit up by the candles. And I know there are mods to get rid of the z's when they sleep, but tbh, I kinda think they're adorable lol

Thank you to anyone who took the time to go on this little journey with me! If you made it to the end, please help yourself to a cookie 🍪 and know that I adore you!

My story will return on Jan 1st yay!! 🎉

I'm not going to tag anyone because a post like this doesn't need a tag! If you haven't done this yet, PLEASE do! Revisit your work from the year and share your favorites with us! Let's all go into 2024 feeling excited and inspired 💖

[midnitestar]

the fixer upper ranch challenge, by midnitestar.

hello! i started this challenge as more of a personal use (a sort of guideline if you will) in order to get me engaged with the horse ranch gameplay and to avoid using cheats or getting bored. then i figured that making a detailed & structured challenge would be even better, so here it is!

⸻ main premise ⊱

your city-dweller sim suddenly is made aware that their grandparent, who they have never met, has inherited them their estate at chestnut ridge, a vast 64x64 lot with an abandoned ranch and lots of family history to discover at town.

the objective of this challenge is to start from the bottom at chestnut ridge and become the most influential family in town by the end of three generations.

make money with the ranch's resources, win over the judgemental seniors, and gradually renovate the estate until it's good as new.

you can see this as sort of a mini legacy challenge, honestly FURC (fixer upper ranch challenge) is a mixture of everything...

this challenge is still in process, so i'll be updating this post as i think of new & concrete ideas for each generation. feel free to join me with your own gameplay at #fixer upper ranch challenge, ask questions or even share suggestions here!

more information under the cut 🎔

at all times avoid using money, skill or relationship cheats (or any kind of cheat for that matter). you will only get 50,000 simoleons at the start of generation 1 as part of your sim's inheritance / or use freerealestate to get your sim's grandparent's estate for free, and set 20,000 simoleons. this will be your renovations budget.

your sim cannot travel to any other world, they must complete their activities and affairs inside chestnut ridge.

follow the intended order of the generations. there's just three of them, and their storylines are linear!

add a mayor, a sheriff, an influential family and some small-ranch townies in your world. this will enrich your gameplay and your sim's relationships! (read: drama)

start with an actual abandoned ranch lot. with a bunch of junk and stuff. i recommend grandma's abandoned ranch by ralucii and Abandoned Ranch by enikobalogh in the gallery!

feel free to use any cc or mods that you want to improve your experience, as long as they don't give you an unfair advantage over other players.

don't get a job for your sim, either full time or half time. however, you may get money through other traditional rags-to-riches methods, such as gardening, frog breeding, fishing, selling other collectibles, etc.

⸻ generation 1 : the newcomer ⊱

you grew up an only child and raised by a single, widowed mother, and although you didn't mind much your father's absence, the conditions of his death have always been a mystery to you - more so with your mother refusing to talk about the subject. what you do know about him, though, is that he loved music, and you do too. you look after his old guitar with your life, and even decided to skip college and go straight into following your dream of becoming a known musical artist at san myshuno. however, you don't find success straight away and start to lose motivation rather quickly. that's when a secretive lawyer knocks at your studio apartment's door to give you the opportunity of a lifetime: to start again in a small town, far away from your previous failure. you immediately travel to chestnut ridge and get right to it - you have a ranch to renovate and a lot to learn about your father's side of the family. no easy task, surely!

aspiration: big happy family traits: rancher, animal enthusiast, clumsy initial budget: 20k ~ 50k (read general rules)

master the following skills: guitar, horse riding, and handiness.

complete your aspiration.

go to the nightclub or the bar at least once a week.

start making money by rescuing horses, training them until they increase their market price, and selling them to other ranchers.

adopt two small goats, raise them and sell their milk. (optional: use @brazenlotus' cheesemaking skill mod to sell cheese!)

renovate at least 5 rooms in the estate OR two floors + build a small barn for one or two horses.

have a kid with another townie who has a small ranch too (optional: marry them and have other children if you'd like).

PLOT POINT! the mayor seems to be having a problem with you entering the community. they think that you're too naive, as per usual with sims who hail from the city, and that you don't know what you're doing. you know, typical condescending seniors. however, they back down a little when you tell them your last name... surely that must mean something? just what kind of person was your grandparent?

to be continued...