#if you don't feel like doing it for a custom origin

[akpaleyreblogs]

I love having roleplayed my way into putting a stupid fucked up love triangle into a game that didn't have one

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[dduane]

i cant belive that you of all people are at risk of homelessness >:(

homelessness isnt a problem that should exist in general, but you, specifically, should have like a million dollars from the star trek novels alone

(chuckle) Wouldn't that be lovely! (And it's kind of you to be thinking that way.)

But alas, that's not how it works.

When you're working in/for other licensed universes—which is always on a work-for-hire basis—the only really significant payment(s) you're likely to see will happen when you've turned in a given book and it's been formally accepted. And even then, the payment's rarely going to be higher than low-to-mid five figures... which (after your literary agent gets their cut, and after your taxes on the income get paid) won't take you very far even in a single year, let alone the years that follow.

If you're very lucky in your publisher, or have a very good agent—which I do—you may even manage to get some royalties on such a novel. But they'll be at the low end of the scale—maybe 2-3% of the cover price. (Bearing in mind that even for original novels in one's own universe, an author rarely gets more than 8-10% of a given book's cover price in royalties.) And when the book goes out of print, the royalties stop.

So just because the owner of the IP makes a lot of money off it, doesn't mean that any significant amount of it necessarily trickles down to the writer. (sigh) Nor does the fact that a book is good, or the writer is good, or both, make any significant difference in this branch of mathematics. Eventually, pretty much inevitably, sooner or later sales of a book drop off and the publisher lets it go out of print.

(shrug) It's not like I didn't know this was eventually going to happen when I wrote my Star Trek work. I did that because I loved Trek (and still do), and I was sure I could write a better Trek novel than anyone else had up until that point. (And maybe that was even true. Who knows.) To have done the work was the thing that primarily mattered.

But let this be a reminder to folks that only a low percentage of writers make enough from their writing alone to live on: and that something like 90% of writers at times live at or near the poverty line and sometimes slip below it. ...And for all of us, even for strong writers who seem moderately successful and have other income streams, bare patches happen: times when publishers don't pay (for example, I still haven't been paid anything for Disney/Marvel's reissue of my Spider-Man books), times when you can't work, or times when accident or illness or other unexpected circumstance eats the cash you've stashed away to serve as a cushion.

This is not a safe lifestyle. With talent and luck and endless slogging away at/over the writing mechanism of your choice, and with the support of your readers (whom I'm very much thinking of at the moment!—and thanks again to the Ebooks Direct customers and Ko-Fi friends who just now saved our butts), it can be survived. Which, from day to day, @petermorwood and I do our best to keep on doing.

...In any case: people who even at this end of time can say things about my work such as you did at the top of this, make me feel like about a million dollars. 🙂 (And since today I have both an upper respiratory infection and laryngitis, that's quite a trick!) ...So thanks.

ETA: for those curious, to deal with local physical issues I am now making this chicken soup, which—whether or not it has any actual therapeutic benefit—is still going to be very nice. ...It annoys the shit out of me that I have to leave out the onions and garlic, which would quickly trigger my IBS and subject me to an entirely different level of pain; but such is life. We've got all the other ingredients on hand sans the fresh turmeric, and if there's one thing this soup's short on, it's chilies. Which around here, believe me, is a deficiency that Peter's well positioned to remedy. :)

[thatonebjp]

Makin the four color Tolan made me decide to also do cards for the other four color combos

[specialgradefckr]

Careful What You Wish For...

...Because you just might get it.

The clone you've made of Satoru Gojo is, much unlike the original, quite taken with you. Or, more accurately, you've been taken by him. But you don't mind... right?

This work is part of a series! Read the first part here!

tw: explicit content. dubcon. drugging. yanderes all around. non-consensual cloning. non-consensual exhibitionism, voyeurism, recording.

"See, isn't this just perfect?"

You can't answer, of course, though you don't have to - it is perfect, after all. Satoru knows you very well.

Every last fold of your cunt, every pulse and throb of your clit, the exact degree he should curl his fingers to make you whimper and sob while his other arm squeezes you close and he presses nibbling kisses into your neck.

It's perfect. Everything is. You're so much happier like this.

Oh, he'd tried talking. But there wasn't anything he could say, no combination of words that would alleviate your unfounded fear that he - the actual strongest sorcerer in the world - was somehow an unwilling captive forced to accept your affection.

To fix this, he had to get to the heart of the issue. Dig his fingers deep, deep in, press hard, in long strokes -

"Hngh - nngh!"

You whine, high pitched and pitiful in a way that makes his heart clench. He just can't help it; you're so cute, so helpless, entirely at his mercy, all hazy and fucked out. Satoru kisses your cheek, rubs his thumb over your clit.

"Nnnh..!"

Makes his dick hard, too. You can feel it, can't you? So hard, just for you, just like you trained him. Just like you wanted. Grinding into your ass. Even incoherent, blinded by overstimulation and drugged into docility, you know him.

Satoru can see it all. Your nervous system all lit up, flickering like a dying neon sign. Reward centers glowing like embers as he strokes your poor, tender bud.

There it was - the heart of the issue. Your big beautiful brain; overworked and overwhelmed.

You think too much. Satoru can fix that. And he will - since he's so nice. Since he loves you.

And of course, how could you continue to suspect that he's your captive, if he's the one who takes you captive?

It's poetic, really, when he thinks about it. He really is good at everything. You'll know his love when you see it, because you'll recognize it. The shape of your love, returned to you.

"Ahhh... aughh... hng~"

It's so easy to wrench another orgasm out of you. Your cunt is slick, pliant, so perfectly sized to his long fingers that reach on, press on just the right slot, all while rubbing circles over your clit.

With fascination he watches. Neurons firing off as the pleasure shoots through you, the pure dopamine flooding through your cute little head in the aftermath.

Astonishing. It's like every single thing you do makes him like you more. You're pretty when you cum, pretty when you're pleased, when you're exhausted. Just one look at you and he's hard again, or burning with the urge to snuggle, or spilling with love confessions he know you won't believe.

He can see every single brain cell firing off in your head but he never gets tired of guessing what's on your mind. In fact, it just makes him more curious.

If he didn't know for certain he was a clone - that another Satoru Gojo walked the earth, and had done so for decades - Satoru would truly, genuinely believe that he had been custom-made for you.

"Hey," He nudges your shoulder, tipping your face up to look him in the eyes.

Glassy, dreamy, there's only the barest stirring of recognition in your gaze, but that's okay. He can work with that.

"Who loves you most in the whole wide world? Hm?" Satoru purrs, cupping your cheek with one hand.

Your head presses into his hand, like you don't even have the strength to hold it up.

So weak - so adorable. Something hot and thrilling churns in his chest at the thought; like you're weak, something that needs protecting. Needs him.

"Who?" He urges, nuzzling his face close to yours. "Who loves you most? Tell me, baby, and you'll get a reward~"

"Ah... hhhn..." Oh, poor, pretty thing. Not a thought going on in your head.

"It's me!" He says, laughing, kissing you on the mouth. Tasting you with a flick of his tongue over your limp one. Pulling away, licking his lips. "It's Satoru. Can you say that for me? Sa~to~ru~"

"S-sato..." Slumping forward, you nearly fall, but Satoru's arm is ready to pull you back against him.

"Baby..." He kisses up against your cheek, "Come on, you can do better than that. Wake up for me, okay? Don't you wanna come out and talk?"

A hand reaches up, over your brow, stroking gently. Tenderly.

"Tell me who," He breathes, hooking his head over your shoulder with a sigh, "Tell me who loves you most in the world, baby... you've got to practice this..."

"Satoru... How did you...?" Your eyes blink, slow and bleary, dilating until they focus on him - where they should be.

"There you go," Satoru crows, though you probably don't remember his question.

With a gentle hand caressing your hair and an even softer smile, he kneels at your bedside. Give you a view of his pretty face you like to stare at so much.

See, he's generous. Nicer than you'd been. But that's okay - he likes being nice to you. He likes you.

Even if it was going to take a hundred years to get that through your poor, neurotic, anxious little brain; he'd enjoy every second of it.

"How...?" You murmur, eyes focusing onto him.

That's his darling. Always overthinking. But he did a good job - it's okay to brag a big, right?

"The biometric locks were sealed with your eyes," Satoru says, grinning widely, "So that's what I used."

His fingers trace over your temple. Thumb feathering past your eyelid, your fluttering lashes.

A nail digs into the skin at the edge of your eye. Pressing hard, harder, enough to draw blood. Your eyes widen - he can see the alarm bells ringing.

"Don't worry," He laughs, pulling his hand back, licking the blood off. Your gaze is heavy on him, locked in. Like it should be.

Satoru leans in close, kissing at the cut on your temple. Licking over it. There's heat there, and something else; he relishes how your body tenses in confusion at it.

He pulls away, lips stained red, and swipes his fingers over your temple once again. Pulls them away to show them to you - unbloodied.

"Reverse curse technique," He half-crows, licking his lips while he stares down at you.

The shock is naked on your face. Really? It's that surprising?

"I've got to say, I'm a little offended," He lurches forward, leaning over you. Crossing his arms and resting his head on them, "Don't tell me you thought I was like that loser. I can use it on myself as well as others. It's really not that hard, he just sucks."

"I - you took out my eyes?" Your whole form stiffens up, heart lurching, "While I slept?! How did I not wake up?"

Ohhhhhh, that's what it was.

With a laugh, he pulls out another hand, "That one's actually really easy when I can see your central nervous system. Here - "

"You can see-"

A finger taps, gently, in the center of your forehead, and your words stop in their tracks. You stare forward, almost puzzled for a second, and then your eyes roll back as you slump over, asleep.

"Night~" Satoru says, crooning your name as he kisses over your forehead, smoothing your hair back.

Gently, he sets you down on the bed, settling you carefully into place while he lies next to you, holding you against his chest.

His smile is brilliant as he snaps the picture.

Of course, the whole area where you were was covered in cameras, too, but who didn't love a good selfie? Satoru knows someone who'd like it.

He gets why you have the setup. Really, it's perfect - he can watch you all day if he wants to. You're always asleep when he's not there, though - it would be downright cruel otherwise. Why have you awake only to leave you all by yourself?

It'd ruin all your progress, if you've even made any yet. Poor thing. It hurts his heart just to think of how you'd feel, lonely and abandoned like that.

Thought, he has to admit, it would be ever so lovely to come home to you after that. But it remains just that, a daydream, something to amuse himself with as he watches you on the camera feed.

A little sigh escapes him. Lovestruck. He can't help it, really, you're just that cute.

And up here in this lab, he really does have all the angles.

Not just of what he's done with you, but also what you've been doing him, since his very earliest memories.

All his training sessions, the fun ones, and the agonizing ones. Your punishments, your rewards. Every moment of fun or affection together.

Mostly, though, he's compiling the training.

Little vignettes of how you'd stuck that cock ring on him, left him home alone to moan and squirm and cry, unable to get over the edge. How you'd cooed at him, whispered in his ear, forced him to confess his love and devotion for you when you finally allowed him release -

Ahhh. Fond memories. And how can he forget you showing him how to eat you out? That was a fun one, too, not really laced with pain, just your playful hand tugging in his hair, a tweak against his nipples, or a foot on his dick.

God, he wants you to step on his dick again. It felt so fucking good having you grind into it, with force, he'd burned with desire and heat and the overwhelming need to explode all over you.

Other times, too, where you'd showed him how to enjoy any touch on his cock. It all felt good, coming from you; your hands, your foot, your tits, your cunt.

One time you'd made him cum just from tweaking his nipples - that was such a treat. Took you days of edging him to tears, begging for release, but you were right in the end; he could do it.

Satoru could do anything if it was for you.

He's too impatient, too horny to try to cum like that again, not when he can just stick his cock inside your sweet, welcoming cunt at will. But he remembers the lesson.

Right now, it's you who needs training. And he puts that together, too. Some of the best pieces are there!

How you're limp in his arms as he makes you ride him, bouncing you up and down on his cock while you ragdoll against his shoulder, panting and whimpering and clinging to him weakly for dear life.

Another time where he has you in his lap again, but this time facing away from him. How his long fingers press down on your tongue and you drool on it, suckling mindlessly while he creams your cute little cunt.

What better way to teach you how much he wants you than showing you over and over again how hard you make him? Not very creative, he'll admit, but he's got time. He can think of more ideas.

Other than that, he's here to watch over the "original". See if there are any tricks left.

It was confusing for a bit, watching him. He figured out all the limitless techniques easily enough - those were fine - but it took a while to learn how to use reverse cursed energy. And a bit longer to use it on someone else.

You'd gotten a bruise from walking into something while climbing out of bed. Satoru would have pulled you away - but you'd had him all tied up for some punishment or another.

Just goes to show, you didn't know what was best for you. Your anxiety was hurting you. Stopping him from protecting you.

It felt like such a relief when he finally was able to heal you up. Finally, he had mastered all the techniques of the original - he could stand as his equal.

Except, Satoru Gojo - Gojo, rather - can't perform reverse curse technique on other people. He teaches first years, the most vulnerable students, often by tossing them directly into danger to fight on their own... and he can't heal other people?

And then he'd watched more and more, waiting to see what was so good about this guy. What he had that made you fall in love to begin with.

Snarky humor? Maybe, but Satoru's just as funny (if not more). Insulting attitude? That would just make your insecurity worse. Looks? They're great and all, but they're identical. Confidence?

Well, if it was his confidence that had roped you in, Satoru's got heaps of that as well.

It's crazy, how hard he's searched this loser's life for a single redeeming moment or feature.

No hobbies. No friends, really. No girlfriends for sure. Satoru kind of suspects he doesn't have regular sex - or worse... he couldn't be a virgin, right?

Satoru hasn't seen Gojo satisfy a single woman (or man) since he started watching, but maybe his personality was just that repulsive, despite having the world's most perfect body?

Honestly, he's drawing a real blank here. Why doesn't this guy do anything but work? Satoru puts together that the dude is killing curses (which can't be captured on video) but like... so what?

He's got money. He's got looks. He's got confidence. Why is he alone all the time? Is it really just because he's afraid someone will get hurt and he can't heal them?

What an absolute chump. Just learn how to do it. How can he suck this badly? Is he stupid?

It haunts his mind. Satoru wonders if maybe Gojo is just so genuinely unlikeable that he's never had a friend before and doesn't know what human companionship is like.

Can't miss what you've never had, right? That would make sense. It's really the only explanation for turning down someone like you.

That's what plants the idea, he thinks. Or so he tells himself.

But deep down, he knows it's just about his ego. The stinging thought that no matter how you loved Satoru now, you'd loved Gojo first.

It's okay, though. You have Gojo's number on your phone -

And Satoru know just what to send him.

Gojo had to admit - you were determined.

What you were determined to do by sending him all these videos and pictures of yourself with the admittedly convincing doppelganger (if it hadn't been straight video editing magic), he wasn't sure, but you were determined.

"Oh, happy for you babe. But keep it between you and him next time, yeah? Little creepy of you to share all this with some stranger."

No response. Just more videos.

"Listen, I don't care about your sex life. This is getting kinda cringey and desperate. He's not even that good-looking."

The guy in the videos is eerily good-looking, actually. The closer he looks, the more it... it really does look like him.

And like the freak you are, you call the guy his name. Satoru.

"Seriously, stop it or I'm blocking you."

It doesn't stop. It never stops. If anything, it gets more risqué. More... obscene.

The double of him in the videos gets more desperate. More clingy. Begging on his hands and knees, clawing at your thighs, crying in your lap for a taste of your cunt.

"What's wrong with you? Fucking freak. How funny would you find it if I were sending you this kind of shit? Lay off."

The voice sounds like him too, but he's never said those words. Certainly not with your name attached to them. I love you, I love you, you're my whole world, my everything, I swear, I love you, it's like a chorus.

"This is so obviously desperate and staged. I feel sorry for you. Not enough for the pity fuck you're hoping for, though, so fuck off."

It's so like him it's starting to get really fucking creepy. They say everyone has a person who looks exactly like them but this is just too much.

Gojo knows you watch him, spy on him, you even stole some of his things back in the day - you'd sent an apology text and he hadn't heard from you since. Though he could still tell you were watching, it wasn't all the time.

But where would you get footage to edit something like this together? You couldn't possibly be this good.

What was this? What the fuck did you want?

And then - he sees it.

It's not obvious. Only in a scene later on. He can only tell by watching, re-watching carefully. Even with the six eyes, on video it's hard to see.

A bruise. On your upper thigh. Barely there anymore, but he sees it.

And then. The double, your hired whore or whoever he is, kissing up your leg, mouth watering for your cunt -

After he passes over the bruise, it's gone. Completely. Like it was never there.

Like it was healed.

Except, you're not a sorcerer. You could see curses - even had some cursed energy - but you have no curse technique. No way could you pull off reverse curse technique.

And as time goes on he starts to notice other things.

At first, he didn't block you because he was curious. It looked like him in the thumbnail, after all. You were basically sending him your homemade porn, it was only polite to take a look!

Plus, maybe you were having some kind of episode or something. It could be a cry for help!

If he jerked off to one or two of them... or more... if he got hard seeing his own face painted in desperation, laving over your cunt, red-eyed and teary as hands tug in his hair... if he bought a cock ring for himself and stroked along to the body double's agony, edging until he gets to the part where you come home and let him open...

If he gets hard every time he sees you've texted him a new video, it was just porn.

It's not his fault, either. He told you to stop, and you didn't! In fact, you never responded to any of his texts. Didn't pick up any of his calls.

His calls. He called you. With video, even!

Sure, you ghosted him after the rejection until now, but this was crazy behavior. You were absolutely crazy for him, you literally stalked him for months, and this was him calling you!

Something is off. Gojo works around sorcerers - around crazy people. He knows crazy, and that's what you are, deep down to the core.

Researching him, watching him, looking up everything around him, leaving absolutely no stone unturned in the pursuit of his affections. Honestly it was kinda flattering! Creepy, but flattering.

Point is, you were crazy. fucking crazy. And even if you were completely over him (which, come on, how could you be?), why would you reach out again like this?

Why make such an obvious, desperate bid for his attention and then not accept it when he deigns to give it to you?

And when it came to the videos, they've started to get kind of... worrying.

In the earlier ones, it was obvious you hired some male hooker to dress up as him and boss around. Generic, but hot. Very femdom. He could respect it. Get off to it, even.

The hooker, or escort, or whoever he is - he's convincing. Too convincing. He's obviously happy to be there, even though you seem all to willing to slap him around, chew him up and spit him out, step on his -

Anyways, the point is. The escort had been a willing participant from the start. But you're starting to look... less so.

At first he thought you were just drunk, or high on something. And yeah, it was hot. Seeing you limp and boneless and making low, little noises as his perfect copy folds you over, manipulates you like a doll.

There's an appeal to it, he'll admit. You're smaller than him - the double has a similar frame, all broad, terribly tall, long, muscled limbs that bend you in half and bounce you on his dick like a living fleshlight.

Then the way you cum - you're so unguarded, so open. Face flushed, panting open-mouthed, twitching in the aftershocks as your lover holds you close. Drooling freely over his fingers, his cock.

It's hard not to wonder what it feels like. Being there. Inside you.

You weren't his type before, but he's touched himself so many times to you - and 'him'. You scolding him, punishing him, teaching him.

He's watched you force him to eat you out for hours, and thank you for it. And god if it didn't make him hard.

Gojo can admit, he's a little jealous of the double. What an easy life he has; jerking off with his cock stuck in a ring, waiting for hours for you to come back.

To some people that might sound like agony. To him, it sounds like something to do to himself during missions to make them more fun.

Rile himself up, stick the ring on, fight and kill while he's hard until he can get home and watch, listen, to you coming back and cooing at him before you grant him sweet release.

Suddenly, you're not just hot. You're erotic. Instantly arousing. The sight of you makes him hard and seeing you like this? Undone? Weak and pitiful and clinging to him - god, fuck. It does something to him.

And then there's the way the double looks up into the camera. His eyes are - fuck, they look a lot like his. Could it be some kind of visual effect? He can't tell over a video.

But as they keep coming, Gojo can just tell. There's malice in there. Pure disdain and loathing. The double touches

...and the he puts together something he should have known since the beginning.

Why weren't you answering him? Why did you keep sending these videos? Why did you call that man "Satoru"?

It all falls into place instantly. How did he not realize sooner? There's only one thing that would prevent you from picking up his calls. A freak like you would never willingly pass up on his attention, but if -

For the first time in years, Satoru Gojo makes a call and tells the Higher Ups he'll be out for the next couple days.

He has to get to you.

[sirfrogsworth]

In this scene, they are in the middle of the woods under a canopy of trees. They show the sky and there is no moon.

The light has absolutely no motivation.

Motivated lighting is a philosophy where all of the light sources on screen have a logical source. The light from a smartphone on someone's face. A lamp next to the couch. Sterile overhead office lights.

Often filmmakers will still use their own custom light sources, but they will simulate these things to give the impression the light has motivation.

Compare this to when all they really had were bright spotlights and insensitive film. An indoor scene just couldn't have this warm and cozy feel. And the light was just blasted in from everywhere.

Black and white helped a lot. You could still get dramatic effect despite things needing to be overlit. Or you could play with contrast ratios and shadow.

All the stuff you need to see was very bright and exposed well onto film and all the stuff you didn't was very dark.

But there was no graduation in between. It was hard to be subtle.

And when television and movies went color, this black and white contrast advantage was lost.

You can see EVERYTHING. And look at those sharp shadows. Everyone is just being blasted in the face with lights.

This sitcom lighting persisted long past when it was necessary. It became part of the sitcom language.

I think M*A*S*H was one of the first shows to subvert the overlit sitcom aesthetic. They began to play with lighting that had more motivation.

But aesthetic standards are hard to kill. And despite the heavy influence of M*A*S*H, sitcoms persisted all the way into the Friends era.

Her lamp isn't even on. Everything is just lit by God.

I don't think you will see a living room or kitchen scene lit like this very much from here on out.

People are getting used to lighting making more logical sense.

With the advent of LED lighting that can be any size, shape, and brightness, as well as cameras that can interpret very dark images, modern shows can now use bright and dark as narrative tools.

I think Severance does this well, and still keeps everything properly motivated.

But this newfound flexibility has created new problems. If you can film dark things, how dark is too dark? And how do you make sure the audience can see all of the important visual information?

The two worst examples of unmotivated lighting are always space helmets and cars.

It's a conceit. You gotta see the faces so these things are usually forgiven.

But the biggest debate in the realm of unmotivated lighting is night scenes. People have lots of opinions on how best to use light in the dark.

This is because following a motivated lighting philosophy can be especially tricky. Particularly if your setting is a secluded area without any artificial light sources.

Many cinematographers will try to give some sense of moonlight. But moonlight is very hard to replicate, so the effect usually ends up looking pretty fake.

This scene during a blackout in Die Hard 4 looks like they took the brightest light they had, mounted it as high as possible and said, "Fuck it, that's moon-ish."

If the DP is hardcore into motivated lighting, they just make the screen really really dark, like the Long Night battle in Game of Thrones.

The really really dark option bugs a lot of people.

Froggie Tangent about Dark Scenes:

I originally thought people needed to adjust their display settings. But then I realized not everyone watches content in a darkened room like a vampire. But if you find a show or movie is too dark, turning off any room lights will help a lot. Watching it in HDR will also help. And watching it on an OLED will help even more.

Scenes this dark are mostly a fad. DPs are experimenting with the possibilities of new technology. But sometimes they forget not everyone has that technology yet. And they forget some people watch stuff on their phones in a room full of sunlight.

Eventually the fad will fade, we will all adopt better screens, and the darkness will land somehwere between "I can't see shit" and "it would never be that bright in real life."

[End of tangent]

In the olden days, since film wasn't sensitive enough to do scenes in the dark, almost everything needed to have unmotivated lighting just to make sure their film wasn't a grainy mess. And as a culture, we sort of got used to that style. They'd mess with the contrast ratios to give the feeling of night, but if you think about where the light is coming from too hard, it won't make any sense. They took a Broadway theater approach to lighting and so a lot of movies felt like they were on a soundstage.

The 1961 West Side Story is a good example.

They've got a spot light hitting them, but not the building behind them. I guess that could be an overhead street light. But street lights are meant to flood the area like an ever expanding donut of light. A spotlight is like a directly projected cone of light. It is perfectly pointed at the side of their face and not coming from above.

She has some magical purple light coming from... somewhere.

And then they are in an area under a bridge, far away from any lights, but they've got soft fill light with a bright rim coming from the right.

Speilberg's version has much more motivated light.

This one is a bit of a cheat, some very bright source off in the distance. But it feels more plausible to the brain and gives a better sense of darkness. It feels like some kind of industrial lighting. Or a security light at a junkyard.

Here he straight up shows you where the light is coming from. And his preference for anamorphic lenses.

And here he uses bright train lights to create silhouettes. This is clever because it allows everything to be very dark but everyone is still legible in the scene.

I'm torn. Because I study light. And so I am very aware of how shows and movies are lighting things. And unmotivated lighting sticks out in my brain. Like when I watch someone miming playing the guitar. Or using a camera improperly. When you know too much about something, inaccurate onscreen depictions just drive you nuts.

There are some techniques being experimented with to make night scenes more legible while maintaining lighting realism. I think the most promising is the infrared day-for-night process used in Nope.

But maybe it doesn't need to be solved. Maybe DPs should just light the night even if it doesn't always make sense. Maybe general audiences just do not care and I am a big nerd who should be ignored.

[kyri45]

✨The Jades are here!✨️

-✦- CURRENT PROJECTS -✦-

✨ISAT: Sky CotL AU ✨

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[pathologicalreid]

all we ever do is talk | s.r.

in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: i don't remember. hold on. oral (f and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breeding but not like the primordial kinky type just like, having sex to get pregnant, drinking wine, this is like circa s11, not proofread i'm just a girl, david rossi being rich for the plot, i hate hate hate the word pussy but here we are, softdom!spencer. spencer reid certified gift giver! word count: 4.17k a/n: a fic based on a del water gap song? who's surprised? no one! anyways i blacked out toward the end of writing this one no clue what happens here also sorry about the breeding thing i really don't know where that came from

The robe you wore was luxurious, and the cumulative cost of every item in your hotel room likely cost more than you made in a year. Needless to say, you were starting to feel out of place in the room, your hair and makeup done to perfection as you waited for your husband to arrive.

Reaching into your pocket, you slip your phone out and check for notifications. JJ was your babysitter for the night, and even though she had insisted that everything would be fine, you had never actually spent a full night away from Eleanor. You had no idea how Spencer did it time and time again for cases.

You: Everything good? JJ: Shouldn’t you be with Spencer right now? You: He’s on his way. You: Everything good?

She responds with a picture of Nell, your sweet toddler, who was seemingly too focused on the bowl of mac n cheese in front of her to even look at the camera. You type out a reply to JJ before forwarding the photo to Spencer.

JJ assured you that Eleanor would be in good care with her and Will, and it’s not that you have any doubts, it’s that she’s your baby and this is your first time being away from her.

The door to the hotel room clicks, and you set your phone on the comforter, watching as Spencer walks into the room before returning the key card to his wallet. “Hey,” you greet from the bed, crossing one leg over the other.

“Hey, honey,” he says, striding over to you before pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “You smell nice.”

You nod in the direction of the bathroom, “I got here early and took a bath.” Slowly, you take a better look at him, “You look good, I like that suit on you.”

He holds his arms out and looks down at himself, “I heard through the grapevine that you have a fantastic dress for tonight, so I figured I needed to pull out all of the stops.” Years ago, Rossi had gotten all of the BAU men custom designer suits, that must be the one your husband had chosen to wear tonight. It was fitting, seeing as Rossi was probably fronting most of the bill for your night.

“I’ve never heard Penelope referred to as a grapevine before,” you respond in jest, getting up from the bed before you make your way to the bathroom. “She helped pick the dress,” you inform him, shedding your robe before stepping into the dress. It was a short, black velvet number that clung to the contours of your body in a way that you hadn’t thought was possible. Instead of straps, two dainty chains went over your shoulders, leaving excess dangling over your back.

Spencer clears his throat, “So, how did the drop-off go?” He missed the big goodbye, which was probably for the best.

You sigh, “Nell was great. I was a mess.” You had only been given a few days to prepare for being away from her.

Carefully pulling the chains over your shoulders, you look at yourself in the mirror before slipping your heels on and stepping out of the bathroom. Spencer was standing in front of the windows, watching the sunset over the horizon, “For what it’s worth, I had no issue with the original plan for tonight.”

Initially, you had planned to celebrate Spencer’s birthday at home with Eleanor, and there was meant to be a party with the rest of the BAU tomorrow evening. Somehow, the team had gotten the idea that the two of you needed an evening out, so they chipped in to give you just that—some members more than others.

“I’m always alright with spending quality time with my girls, but—” his voice cuts off as he turns to look at you, “Never mind.”

You chuckle, “What?” Looking down at yourself, you smooth out the front of the dress with your palms.

His eyes wander as he unabashedly checks you out, “I’m finding with every passing moment that this might be my preferred plan for the evening.” He watches attentively as you go back to sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing a twisted strap of your heel while Spencer stands directly in front of you.

“When was the last time we went out on a date?” You ask, strapping your heel around your ankle.

He hums, fake thinking about your question even though he knows the exact date, “However old Nell is, add approximately ten months,” he answers.

You look up at him, your face warming in surprise, “Has it really been that long?”

Spencer nods mournfully, “Almost three and a half years,” he sits down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh and swiping at the soft skin with his thumb.

Holding your hands up to your face, you glance at Spencer with wide eyes, “Oh, Spence. When did we get boring?”

“We aren’t boring,” he insists, “We have a two-year-old. We work.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “Other people do those things, and they’re not boring.”

He matches your look, “We aren’t boring,” he repeats. “Let’s make a deal,” Spencer offers, “Tonight, you and I won’t be boring.

“Right, so we’ll have a glass of wine at dinner tonight and then return to being boring tomorrow?” You say glumly, watching as he shifts on the mattress, adjusting his weight distribution.

“No,” he whispers, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips before sliding off the mattress, leaving him on his knees in front of you.

Blinking absently at him, your heart jumps at the sight of him in front of you, “You know we have dinner reservations, right?”

He gives you a slightly incredulous look, “You know it’s an open reservation, right? We have it until midnight.”

Your head bobs in acknowledgment, silently permitting him to part your knees, and you watch him come to the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties, “I didn’t want any lines to show under the dress,” you explain. There was also a part of you that hoped your evening would go in this direction.

Placing his hands on your hips, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, rolling your dress up to your waist, leaving you bare in front of him, “You’re perfect,” he breathes, “I don’t tell you that enough.” His fingers carefully prod at your core, a ghosting of pressure as he sweeps his index finger over your folds, an array of goosebumps forming over your skin.

Your breath hitches when he grips one of your thighs, placing it over his shoulder in the way he’s done numerous times before, but it always seems to take your breath away. “You tell me plenty,” you say, the sensation of his breath on your wet heat affecting you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.

“That’s not nearly enough,” he scolds himself, craning his head forward to press a kiss to your clit, chuckling when you jump as a result.

Releasing a breathy laugh, you look down at Spencer, your heart racing as you await his next move, “Then tell me again,” you whisper.

Spencer hums in response, slipping his pointer finger inside of you as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

You let out a soft moan as his finger slowly starts moving out, taking it slowly as you lean back on your hands, careful not to mess your hair up too badly, “Spence,” you whine at the pressure.

“I know,” he tells you, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Closing your eyes, you nod quickly as he slips a second finger into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips as your body stretches around his fingers, “It’s been too long,” you tell him, lifting one hand to your mouth and biting down on your knuckle to muffle your sounds—a habit you’d picked up since having a baby.

He hums, peering up at you through hooded eyes, “This is a honeymoon suite, angel. It’s engineered to keep sound in.”

Your hand drops obediently, falling back to the mattress as you ignore the implications of the BAU reserving the honeymoon suite for you and focusing on your husband, who was bending his neck down to suck your clit. His lips encircle the sensitive nub as you let out a low whimper, knowing what’s about to come making you apprehensively excited.

Steadily, Spencer works at you, thrusting his fingers while suckling at your clit, periodically using his tongue to apply pressure, and reveling in your high-pitched moans as he drives you closer and closer to what you’re sure will be your first of many orgasms of the night.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, moving one hand to the top of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.

He shifts on his knees slightly, coming up for air as he adjusts the angle of his fingers inside of your cunt, going back down on you as his fingers find a new pace. They curl inside of you, targeting the spongy button that makes your abdomen tighten and your thighs tremble.

Overwhelmed, you repeat his name like a prayer while you pull at his hair, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, helplessly staring at the ceiling while Spencer keeps his motions going, his fingers relentlessly thrusting into you while he sucks at your clit, encouraging your orgasm.

Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you, your legs shaking as your husband remains buried between your legs, working you through your orgasm, “So perfect,” he pants, gently massaging your pussy as he withdraws his fingers, pressing soft, tender kisses to the insides of your thighs. “We don’t even have to go to dinner,” he says, looking at you hungrily.

You smile down at him, “We should go, Dave called in a favor to get us this reservation.”

Spencer straightens up and nods in agreement, holding his hand up to your mouth, “Open,” he says, looking satisfied when you poke your head forward, putting your lips around his two fingers and tasting yourself on them.

Sucking your own slick from his fingers, you focus on his eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, watching the dilation of his pupils because you know exactly what effect you’re having on him. He slips his fingers from your mouth before dropping a kiss on your lips, the entire exchange reminiscent of the time before you had Eleanor. You weren’t complaining.

Checking his watch, Spencer stands up straight in front of you, helping you stand, he holds onto your waist while you find your balance, “How are you feeling?”

You peer up at him through your mascara-coated eyelashes, “Most decidedly not boring,” you answer, following him into the bathroom so the two of you can clean up.

“C’mere,” Spencer beckons, looking at you from across the table. “You’re too far away,” he explains, the table at the restaurant keeping the two of you apart when you’ve already established that you want to be close tonight.

Taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it on the table, you grab your glass of wine and make your way to your husband. In the private room that had been reserved for you, “Here I am,” you present yourself to him, the privacy glass that surrounded you concealing the way his arm snaked around your waist, guiding you to his lap.

He smiles up at you, “That’s better,” he says, your legs latticed over his own.

Looking over your shoulder at the table, you hum an acknowledgment, “This table is almost comically large for two people.” You imagine it’s intended to be fancy, a long, glamorous table for a glamorous restaurant. You lean your head against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and appreciating your closeness, “Happy birthday, my love.”

“It’s not my birthday yet,” he murmurs, tipping his head back and kissing you softly, the taste of the wine that had been chosen for you was faint on his lips.

A soft giggle bubbles in your throat, “Then I’ll have to stay up until midnight so that I get to be the first one to tell you.”

Humming, Spencer settles a hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “The real challenge there is staying up until midnight.”

“I’m sure we can think of something to keep us up,” you grin cheekily, swinging your legs. “So, before you’re officially older,” you begin, “What do you want to do with your next year of life?”

“Finish the bathroom remodel,” he answers almost immediately, referring to your main floor bathroom that had been in disarray for months. The countertop that you had chosen was still on backorder.

You raise your eyebrows, “What do you want to do that will help us on our pursuit to become less boring?”

Spencer studies your expression, taking his time before answering, “I’d like to at least discuss having another baby,” he responds.

Admittedly, it had been on your mind recently. With Kate leaving the BAU to spend time with her baby and JJ announcing she and Will were expecting, considering having a second baby wasn’t out of the realm of imagination. “You want another baby?” Your question is soft, you look at him, studying the brown eyes that he had passed down to Eleanor.

He nods, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bare thigh. “I know that you’ll bear most of the responsibility if we have another baby. I’ll still be around as much as work will allow, but there’s only so much room for variables in the BAU. I wouldn’t want you to feel alone in it, but I— I’d like for Nell to have a sibling.”

“Okay,” you breathe, not needing much convincing to come to a conclusion. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting this conversation tonight, but it wasn’t a conversation you’d ever had before. Eleanor was about as much of a surprise as a baby could be.

Spencer looks surprised at your reply, “What?”

Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you shrug, “Let’s have another baby. This time next year Nell will be three, so, now almost feels like a perfect time.”

“It takes most couples months to conceive when they’re trying,” Spencer tells you, “Only about thirty percent conceive in the first three months.”

You raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “How long does it take couples who have a luxury hotel room to themselves for the night?” Your loaded question easily slides off your tongue as you lift your hand to his chest, thumbing the silk fabric of his tie while you wait for his answer.

He led the way to the hotel room, luckily the hotel and restaurant were connected; you would’ve hated for a cab driver to see you dazedly staring at your husband with the promise of what comes next.

Pulling his keycard from his wallet, Spencer pushes the door open, dragging you in behind him before pressing you up against the wall. You shove at the lapels of his jacket, trying to get it off of him.

Haphazardly, you drop pieces on the floor, Spencer’s jacket, your heels, his tie, everything falling away as the two of you stumble to the bed. You yelp when you fall back onto the bed, Spencer catches himself above you and a fit of giggles erupts from your mouth. A sort of light, airy feeling goes through your head while you’re beneath him, the freeing feeling of knowing you’re about to have sex and you don’t have to worry about your toddler knocking on your door was overwhelming.

You kiss him while fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the white fabric from where it was tucked before discarding that as well. “Wait,” you say breathlessly.

Spencer sits up, panting as he looks down at you, “What is it?” He asks, eyes searching for something wrong.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I bought lingerie for tonight,” you tell him, eyes flickering over to your overnight bag. The blue, lacy set was calling your name.

Hovering back over you, Spencer bows his head and presses a soft, unhurried kiss to your lips, “Show me later?”

Nodding, you watch him as he pulls his undershirt off, another bundle of fabric lost to the ground. Gently, you push at him, making it so his back is on the mattress as you place one knee on either side of his waist.

His hands tug at the hem of your dress, ruching the fabric around your waist as you slowly grind your hips over his. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses, already tightly wound after your earlier activities.

Understanding, you start to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, continuing to go lower until you’re unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly, placing your hand over his already hard cock and palming him on top of his briefs, “You’re so hard,” you moan, your mind thinking ahead to when he’ll inevitably fuck you.

In the interim, you tug his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, leaving his length standing at attention for only a moment before you duck your head, licking a long stripe up the veiny underside of his cock. Spencer’s hips buck up from the mattress in response, and you take him in your mouth, using your hand to touch what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Pressing your tongue flat against the head, you moan with him in your mouth when he grabs a fistful of your hair. You were no longer worried about your appearance, only about driving him as crazy as possible.

“Angel,” he says, his voice strained, “I can’t— I need to be in you.”

You lift your head, moving back up to him and straddling his hips again, placing your bare pussy on top of his hard cock. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you raise your eyebrows at Spencer, “Are you ready?”

He nods, mouth falling open when you lift yourself up and position his length at your entrance, “Oh, wow,” he breathes, gently rubbing at your clit as you ease yourself onto him, your walls throbbing around him. His hand settles on your hip as you take a moment to adjust.

Pulling at your dress, you tug it over your head, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room, “Ah,” you sigh, rolling your hips slightly to try and help your body adjust.

“Absolutely no lingerie necessary,” he says, his eyes studying your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. “I’m so thankful for you, my girl,” he murmurs with lust-hooded eyes.

You hum in response, bending at the hips to put your lips on his, a whimper escaping your lips when his hips buck up from the mattress again, “Fuck, call me that again.”

“My girl,” he echoes, thrusting up into you again. “I’m not going to last very long,” he admits, groaning as you start to lift yourself up and down on his cock.

Small whines come from your lips with every movement, you shake your head, “That’s okay, we can…” your voice trails off, “I don’t think I will either.” The admission comes as a bit of a surprise to yourself, you hadn’t realized you had gotten so worked up.

Snaking his hand between your bodies, Spencer focuses his attention on getting you to your second orgasm as your movements grow unsteady, “You’re doing so well,” Spencer encourages you, knowing you aren’t usually on top.

“Shit, Spence,” you gasp, your resolve failing as your torso drops forward, giving him the freedom to continue lifting his hips up into you, “Oh,” your cunt clenches down around him, “I’m cumming,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest as you cry out. His thrusts start to overstimulate you as he chases his own orgasm, and eventually his movements falter.

You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you as his hot cum fills you, a tired sigh as his rigid body relaxes back into the mattress, “Oh, my girl,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back as you catch your breath on top of him, “Why don’t you stay up here for a little bit?”

Nodding, you look up at him, a pink flush splattered across his face as you watch him, “I love you,” you breathe, glancing at the clock, “Happy birthday.”

Spencer spares a glance at the clock, three minutes past midnight, “I love you too, angel. Thank you.”

You sigh, lifting yourself on shaky arms and grabbing a box from his bedside table, “This is for you.”

He releases a breathy laugh, obviously amused at the idea of opening a birthday gift while he’s still buried inside of you, “I got you something too,” he admits, sweeping a strand of hair from your face.

Tilting your head to the side, you frown, “It’s not my birthday.”

Shaking his head, Spencer agrees with you, “No, but I find I can’t resist giving you gifts.”

You inhale sharply when he twists to open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a rectangular box and resting it next to him so he can start to open the gift from you.

“Oh, honey,” he says, opening the watch box. His old one had a damaged mechanism and needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t something he was likely to spend the money on for himself. Naturally, you did it for him.

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s engraved,” you explain. Watching him take the watch out of the box and look at the back, the dates that you had carved in being significant markers in your relationship. Your wedding anniversary. The date Eleanor was born. There was plenty of space to add more dates too, should the time come.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, placing the watch back in the box to keep it safe, “Thank you,” he says, shifting under you as he reaches for the box.

Rolling your eyes, you accept the box anyways, “Now, why would you get me a gift for your birthday,” you tut, undoing the ribbon on the box before opening it. “Oh,” you breathe, “Oh, Spence,” you say, tears pricking your eyes.

Inside of the box was a necklace, and strung on the dainty chain was a teardrop-shaped sapphire. “It’s Eleanor’s birthstone,” he explains, “I saw it last time Penelope dragged me to the mall with her, and I thought it was perfect for you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, moving to fasten it around your neck, the only other thing adoring your body being your wedding ring. You grin at your husband as you duck down to press a kiss to his lips, half-conscious of the way he’s kicking his pants off until he’s flipped you onto your back.

He hums as you moan, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful,” he muses, burying his face in your neck and placing soft kisses along the column of your throat.

Opening your legs more, you invite him to come closer into you, “I would have agreed to have another baby a long time ago had I known I’d be treated so well,” you tease him gently, gasping as his lips attach to your breast, littering kisses all over you.

“I always treat you well,” he insists, taking a tentative thrust into you before taking you into his arms.

You whimper softly at the pressure on your pussy, “Spence,” you sigh, your sensitive cunt clenching around his cock. “Oh, god yes,” you mutter as he begins to find a pace, pressing his full length into you.

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “I know baby,” he says, sticking to his rhythm and pushing your legs open wider, “I’ve got you.”

A curse falls from your lips as you screw your eyes shut, tilting your head back and gasping at the sensation, “I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too,” he says, equally out of breath with you as he fucks into you with abandon, chasing a new high as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum in you,” he warns, snapping his hips to yours.

A high-pitched moan comes from you as he paints your insides with his cum, the sensation of him filling you leading you to your third orgasm of the night as your walls pulse around him.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, waiting for someone to catch their breath as your eyes go wide. “Are you alright?” Spencer’s the first to speak, carefully pulling out of you and chuckling lightly when you whine at the empty feeling.

Nodding, you turn your head to the side, “Yeah, are you?”

He smiles, “I think this might be the least boring birthday I’ve ever had.”

[pining-prince]

I've noticed in the selfship community we don't talk a lot about ita bags and other DIY fan culture things much! To some extent it makes sense, as it might feel strange to some to have a lot of merch of someone you're viewing as a partner? But I've personally found it fun and wanted to share some video tutorials and inspiration for anyone else that might want a craft or project to dedicate to their f/o or comfort character!

links in this post go to tutorials/videos/templates!

Bags for displaying official or fanmade pins, keychains, and merch! There's a million ways to do this, but here's a couple to use as jumping off points.

using a standard premade ita bag!

using a nicer bag!

Making an ita bag out of a cheap PVC tote bag!

"But I can't afford merch/there's no official merch/etc!"

No problem, lets talk about how to diy that too!

You can use shrink plastic to make your own keychains!

You can also make pins in lots of different ways!

Using epoxy stickers

Using hot glue

Using a traditional can badge without a button maker

There are also Etsy sellers who will make custom badges from art as long as you have permission by the artist! If you have your own fanart, or can ask an artist you've commissioned, this would also be an accessible way while still looking more "official."

Finally, I believe these are usually used on Uchiwa fans (see later section), but I've used these paper letters alone as ita bag decorations! Name boards combine the letters or kanji of a character's name (or a different word relevant to the character) with their picture!

Do you have one standout badge that you'd like to highlight on your bag, or maybe you just want to make it into a keychain? Rosettes are great for that, and there's a million ways to make them. Here's a few!

1, 2, 3 , 4

Do you have paper goods such as photo cards or mini prints that need a safe but stylish way to be stored and displayed? Photo card holders are the way to go! There's a lot of different styles people like to use:

Resin Deco method

Lace and Ribbon method

Fake Cream (Decoden) method

Sticker method

Tutorials for photo cards do exist, and I will link them, but it's worth noting that it's a lot of work and the quality you get depends a ton on the quality of your printer. If you have access to an art printer, these will turn out great! If you're using a regular printer, however, you may be unsatisfied with the quality. Buying prints from small artists or having regular photos printed would be other alternatives.

Photo card tutorial focused on drawn art

Photo card tutorial focused on photos

Fans that are often printed with your favorite idol to use at concerts! While it originates there, people have started making them for their fictional favorites as decor too. You can create a full size fan (they sell blanks on amazon) or create a mini keychain version for an ita bag!

These can be quite complicated, but you can make your f/o as a plushie! Especially great for f/os who have no official plush merch.

This tutorial goes very fast, but it looks easy enough. This is only one example tutorial. There's also this pattern you can work with if you mostly understand sewing.

A more approachable plush like project would be these felt "plushies"!

You can also buy plushie bases like these , and then all that's left is the face, hair, clothes, etc.! You would probably approach it like in this video but the style would be up to you. I love how this creator embroiders faces!

I hope this gives you all some ideas to work with! 🩷

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Part 2 to Life Line

(I ain't) Sorry

Pairing: cheater!Price x wife!reader

CW: infidelity. angst. idk is price a cuck now? 18+

Middle fingers up, put them hands high. Wave it in his face, tell him, boy bye (sorry). Tell him, boy bye (sorry) boy bye. Middle fingers up, I ain't thinking 'bout you.

It's been six months since the new rules of John Price's marriage had been established. In public, he is still Captain John Price, a fearless leader, highly decorated, and on track to be a major. John Price was thought to have it all. Two gorgeous children, a darling little girl named Iyana aged six and a charming baby boy named Jackie aged four (who everyone says looks like John made him in the same fashion as a sea sponge. That is to say, through asexual reproduction because they look so much alike).

To top it all off, he had a gorgeous and smart wife who worked with a notable contractor that dealt with information gathering, sorting, and code breaking. Said to be highly requested and sought after to work with military operations, both official and private military based.

Yes, Captain John Price to the public eye, had it all. Despite the blood on his hands, the blackness on his soul and actions, the Lord above gave him a loving family. He was always the man of the hour when he walked into a room.

Right now, though, he didn't feel like a man of the hour that he was thought to be. Right now, he watches his daughter pedal her little pink bike around the front driveway. Her hair ribbons are lopsided, giggles echoing on the wind. It almost sounds and feels like a dream. She's got light up fairy wings, a fairy dress, and tiara, all high-quality custome made in an array of colors and gem stones. It's cute. He thinks it is cute, and it makes his little girl happy. What he can't stand, however, are the pink and white rhinestone cowboy boots. They cost a pretty penny, and she wears them everywhere. She wears them with every outfit.

John hates it. Or better yet, he hates where these items come from.

His son, while he has always been easily pleased, has particularly enjoyed his little hobby horse toy. The saddle has his name painted on the side in deep blue letters that stand out against the deep brown wood.

John hates the damn horse toy and also hates the suspected origins. Both of these things are reminders that his marriage is on the rocks and that it's a reflection of his mistakes. Another man buying his children toys. He has little doubt that it is the same man he is forced to work with.

He leans against the support beam of the front porch, cigar to his lips. He was watching his daughter and keeping also keeping an ear out for his son, who slept in the house. The three of them are waiting for the fourth member of the household. A sleek black car pulls up to the house and Iyana abandons her bike to greet the love of John's life.

You.

His darling, sweet, loving wife, who he wouldn't trade for the world. Even if you are being difficult. It doesn't matter though he's sure this tantrum can't go on forever.

Now you wanna say you're sorry. Now you wanna call me cryin'. Now you gotta see me wildin'. Now I'm the one that's lyin'. And I don't feel bad about it. It's exactly what you get. Stop interrupting my grinding. (You interrupt my grinding)

You shut off the car, and the door swings open. Your saccharine voice carries just about your daughter. "My love! I've missed you!" Nimble fingers push sunshades back onto your forehead as you lean down to sweep her up into a hug.

"Do you like my dress? It came in the mail today!" She shouts, "Daddy helped me into it when we got home from school!"

"It's lovely, my love. You look like a pretty fairy princess." Your eyes appraise her dress and accessories appreciatively. When you finally lay your eyes on John, you offer him a polite smile. "John, I'm glad you could get off early to pick the kids up today."

John isn't focused on your words. His eyes are clearly looking you over, desperatewith want. Since the new rules were put in place and boundaries made known, he has made it clear that he misses you. Each time, you reminded him of the rules and that he was allowed to see other people. You watch as his eyes finally land on the space above your cleavage. Right on the dainty gold chain with only one charm on it.

"You didn't wear that to work, did you?" John grumbles as you walk past him.

"John, am I not allowed to wear jewelry now?" You ask, already over this conversation and wear it is about to head to.

"Sweetheart." He still calls you that. The pet name bristles you, but you tolerate it for the sake of your children. "At least grant me the decency of not wearing his bloody branding in public."

"Iyana, go pack your bag for grand mum's and poppop's house." You usher her towards the steps. She dutifully says yeah and how she's packing all of her new little dresses. Finally, alone with him, you turn to face your husband. "Why does it matter, John?"

A deep sigh escapes him, and he's a bit flustered with frustration. You suppose you'd be frustrated, too, if work was hell. And to be clear, it was only hell because of the new long-term assignments he and several different teams were coordinating on. You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"It matters because it bothers me." He finally gets out, "it causes me to feel upset."

You take note of the carefully chosen words. Efforts of his therapy sessions peaking through. While you still won't go with him, he goes once a week when he isn't deployed. The habit started a month into your new reality. Shortly after, he began to be a more present father to the kids. Family weekends that he plans (which you suspect he does as often as possible to keep you with him), attending parent teacher conferences and evenings, and just generally paying more attention when he is home. It's great for the kids, but it's too little too late for you.

"Okay, John." You dismiss him and make your way to the kitchen with his footsteps following close behind. The conversation is clearly not over for you both.

"Was work fine today? I didn't see you at the all hands meeting on base." He leans against the kitchen island.

"My schedule was packed, so I sent my junior to fill in for me. Another PMC is contacting the company they requested me specifically." You dig around the fridge searching for a snack. His eyes are on you again. They always are these days. Since you reentered the workforce and quickly rose in rank, you've changed. You're more confident, more stern, and have leaned into the feeling of being desirable again by other men and women. Opportunities flowed easier to you. Your former boss had welcomed you back with open arms. Her exact words were something along the lines of "Mrs. Price, it's good to have you back. Now, the numbers can make sense again, and I can prepare to retire!"

John huffs, "Yeah, I saw. Kate was annoyed the entire time with the poor girl. And she was too afraid to work with Simon."

You find a snack and smile. "How is Simon?"

"You should know." He bites back with a bit of force. His blue eyes shift away from you, "You aren't sleeping with my lieutenant, are you?" It's a soft question you almost miss. He almost sounds insecure at the idea of one of his boys looking at you that way. And with the rules that are now in place, there's nothing to stop you but their friendship to him.

"John... Now, why would I do such a thing?" You sneer and then laugh. "There isn't anything going on between me and Simon."

"Then why won't you speak with me on base?" He furrows his brow. "People are literally looking at you two funny." And the 'They're looking at me with concern' is left unsaid.

"Because he is the chosen liason I picked for your team?" The scoff you let out is near comical, "Don't be so vain, John Price. If I was going to sleep with anyone it would be Kyle as he is the only one that apologized for not saying anything sooner about you fucking around behind my back. Maybe Johnny because he's good-looking. Tragic that they both are loyal to you, a skill they picked up from somewhere. "

His face turns red with agitation. His eyes go back to the necklace and the charm around your neck. It's a small, dainty, gold little heart, and when the light catches it, an engraved series of numbers and letters can be seen faintly. "So if not them, then who?"

"You know who. Don't be daft." You shrug your shoulders, "I'm gonna be gone all weekend after we drop the kids off at your parents. So you have the house to yourself."

"I'd much rather prefer we spent time together." He tries and smiles sweetly at you.

"I can't. My friend is dying to spend time with me, and he insists upon it, or he will simply die."

It's a beat of silence for a moment. Before he looks away from you. "Is he the one who sent those gifts to the kids? Which I don't appreciate, by the way."

"No. I'm not seeing him tonigt." You say leaving the kitchen, "Phillip has to go back to the States tonight. Won't be back till three days before you all move out."

"Could you at least tell that fuck to not give my kids gifts. It's rather rude, don't you think?" He glares.

"Phillip didn't give the kids those gifts. He gave me money, and then I got them things they've been asking for."

"And the necklace?" He asks. He almost seems like he doesn't want to know. But he keeps digging the hole deeper.

"From my other boyfriend." You glance over your shoulder at him, "instead of worrying about me and who I'm seeing. You should worry about yourself."

The tension is only cut at the sound of your daughter calling for help. She wants help with closing her backpack up.

That night after you and John played happy family infrint of his parents, the drive back home was tense. A quiet that could be heard from miles away even as the radio played, trying its best to ease both of your nerves. It's subtle, but you notice how his eyes cut to you every so often.

"Sweetheart."

"The kids aren't with us John."

"Don't be difficult please."

Your eyes hurt with how they roll. "What is it John?"

"I want to know when we can give us another try." He asks quietly, "I miss you." He grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. "I don't want you running around that fuck Graves, or whoever else your tend to see. You're my wife and I'm your husband. We should at least try to fix our marriage."

You don't say anything and keep your eyes in the passing scenery. This conversation isn't new. It comes up often and when it does you fight like hell to hold your ground. Another deep sigh and you wait in silence for him to continue.

"I love you, always will and never stopped." He says, and the sentiment is there. The way he says it reminds you of days when you were ignorant to his infidelity.

But then your mind conjures up the rage and hurt you experienced when you first saw what was in that folder the private investigator gave you. The embarrassment you felt when you asked Simon, Kyle and Johnny if they knew. They way that none of them could look you in the eyes for weeks. Or the grief that resurface each time your mind wanders over the memory of how he found someone who was similar to you in appearance from before your first child together.

"John, can we not tonight?" You simply avoid his eyes, "We can still get a divorce or you can deal with the way things are. I'm not revisiting any conversations about us or therapy."

"Are you doing this to hurt me back?" He asks. It's the most direct he's ever been with admitting that his actions hurt you. Before it was always a deflection. He wasn't right in the head after missions, he was trying to cope with the miscarriage, anything but outright saying he was a cheater. The tone of his voice cracks a bit with sorrow, but you don't budge.

"No." You state and turn up the radio, ending the conversation.

The car rolls to a stop in the driveway and you hurry out of the car and into the house. You don't want anymore questions or comments from him about the marriage he ruined. You don't want to deal with any nasty emotions that can't be fixed with the wine and sex that is waiting for you. An hour later you're finishing up packing, the house is quiet. The shrill ring of the doorbell pierces the silence of the house. It takes a moment but you hear John walking around downstairs towards the door. There's a bit of a sick thrill that shivers through you at who you know he will find on the otherside of that door. It won't be Phillip, he had already sent his messages that he would call you when he's back in the states.

You zip up your suitcase, check your hair once more in the mirror. When you get down the steps you're mer with John's more than angry glare that seems more hurt than anything. It's ignored as you pass the living room where he is.

You swing open the door, "Hey sweety."

"Hallo Meine Liebe." You're greeted with a hug from a strong embrace, "I'm hoping the guys will leave us be this weekend. They have been irritating since seeing you today and calling your charm necklace a fancy set of dog tags."

In the living room John closes his eyes as he hears you leave. Your laugh trails on the end of your words. And his heart absolutely aches at the idea of you with another man, much less another one he doesn't really like.

"Kökö, your I.D number is on it. Of course they would say that."

a.n: one more part and then I'm done with this mini series. Thank you all for supporting me.

All Night (final)

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

[gawdlysims]

Nurse Bae

Details

Custom Thumbnail

Female- Male

Teen - Adult

Bottom - (14 Swatch)

Top (14 Swatches)

Credits:

Original Mesh

Sims4Studio

Blender 3.3

Additional Credit

Hair -  Cecesimsxo

Scene - Garcia

Terms Of Use:

Do Not Share My Content (Always Free After 2-3 Weeks)

Recolors Allowed (Personal while Early Access.)

Don't take ownership of anything that I create.

Only include my things in your download if it is already free; otherwise, do not feel the need to link back to me unless it's just a nice shoutout because you like my creations and would like to bring awareness! AGAIN, this is only if my creations are already free. If it is still under Early Access, then please link back to me for people to download.

Download Here (Public 5.9.24)

[roebeanstalk]

6/2 Update: Security deposit has been paid!! Thank you so much to everyone for the help 💚 I still have to pull together all of June rent for my current place which is $675. Thank you everyone for all of the help so far ��

I’m asking for help with June rent, which is $675 and needs to be paid ASAP.

Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot

venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89

ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk

Any help at all is super appreciated. Every dollar adds up, and shares are so helpful too. I know that I’ve received so much help from people in the past and I can’t thank you all enough. I hope that this is the last of these that I have to do.

Needs:

June rent: $23/$675

Security Deposit: $495/495 Paid 💚

Bonus:

July rent (First month at new place): $495

Movers + Uhaul: $300-350

More info on my situation under the cut!

Thank you so, so so much.

I have a history of mental health issues, and as a result I have a very difficult time getting and maintaining employment. My mental health also impacts my ability to keep up with and complete freelance/commission work in a timely manner. While I have made some incredible steps forward lately thanks to the right combo of therapy, medication, and a support system, I am still not at a point where I am self-sufficient yet. I am getting there – and I am committed to keep trying no matter what.

Original post blurb, taken out of main post since deposit has been paid:

My landlord has decided not to move forward with me as a tenant due to my history with payment/mental health. While this is frustrating as heck, it’s allowed me to find a better, more affordable housing situation. I have signed a lease at a new place and move in July 1st!Once the deposit is paid, my space on the lease is officially secured and I am good to go. This is the main thing that I am looking for help with.

Why I need help:

This new housing situation is incredible for me – it’s a room in a quiet house with two other queer folk, and the rent is very affordable compared to my current situation. The new place is $485/month, the current place is $675/month. Even with utilities, my total overhead for shelter will cost less than rent at my current place. If I can secure my spot in this house and move forward, I see such a clear path forward for me in terms of self-improvement and self-sufficiency.

For the first time in 15 years, I feel like I can tackle the things ahead of me. If you’re able to help out I would really, really appreciate it.

What I’m doing:

I am job hunting for something that works well for my situation. With the cost of rent, I think that a part time job will be able to cover it. The process of getting a job is difficult for me, but I am committed to continuing to work at it.

On the art front, I have occasional comic coloring jobs that help me out. I also have commissions – I have finally been moving forward at a good rate and have been really happy with my work. In time, this will be able to be a more standard income route. I also have a Patreon that brings in about $65/month.

Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot / venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 / ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk

Thank you so much for reading over all of this. Thank you to everyone who has helped with donations or kind words or reblogs. Thank you so much to every commissioner and customer who has been patient as hell with me on artwork, communication, and stickers. Thank you thank you thank you. Thanks to every single one of you I have been able to keep pushing myself forward, and I'm so happy to keep doing it and make good on everything. And eventually, give back to my community. I love you all so much, even though i don't know any of you that well. Thank youuuu. <3

[enkays-den]

Enkay Watches the Imp and Skizz Podcast #127 (featuring @joehills)

First of all, if you are not watching Joe Hills on either youtube or twitch, DO IT!!!! He's streaming pretty much every day and the conversations are always so interesting and he has the best little windows into the workings of Hermitcraft. Folks will pop by and have super interesting conversations with him! He's one of my favorite hermits and I think his unique way of experiencing minecraft, life, and hermitcraft is something that deserves more eyes on it, because I know people are sleeping on him.

First off, THIS is how you show up to the Imp and Skizz Podcast! Classy, on brand, and unique!

I love Impulse's little nest of pillows, he's so cozy nestled in there, holding his mandated amount of water like a security blanket

I love that the reason they wanted Joe on was to talk about the coup SPOILERS: they never even touch on it

joe's dad being a logician makes so much sense tbh

"a creationist universe where god wants you dead and i play minecraft like a greek hero idiot" is such an amazing way to talk about super hostile maps

HOW IS IT THAT JOE AND SKIZZ BOTH HAVE EDGAR ALLEN POE ANECDOTES OFF THE DOME

Joe having his wedding taking place during the recess of a vehicular manslaughter trial feels so strange and yet so Joe

JOE HILLS FULL NAME DROP?????

"YOU'VE GOTTA BE JOE KING" okay he mentioned on stream that there was a joke that maybe two people would get and I will proudly claim to be one of the two.

"fighting to become an artist" is so validating to Skizz's journey so far. It's gonna be his year anniversary of being a hermit soon and im gonna get emotional about his path this last year

Joe WOULD put on the Scottish Parliament sessions as background noise, love that

"I don't trust any platform with my art. I'm the one that makes the art and the audience is the one that appreciates my art" "I need to be as platform/brand agnostic as possible" "next time Amazon does something terrible to the unions" 👏👏👏

CHEERS REFERENCE, SKIZZ'S SITCOM BRAIN IS ACTIVATED

talking about his streams like a bar and like,,,,, he's so smart about the role of creators and fandom and i just appreciate joe so much

it's funny that they're shocked about the relationships can be formed within fandoms when like,,,,, that's how they met tango

((also if we talk regularly and read this i love you guys <3))

skizz, the worst chat reader ever i love you

i need hermitcraft standup. please. custom texture snowballs as tomatoes or flowers to throw

thinking about a younger skizz using a tape recorder to record his 'genius ideas' and quotes he likes and annoying the crap out of his friends

YES JOE AND SKIZZ TALKING ABOUT THE SCIENCE OF COMEDY AND THE STRUCTURE, THEY'RE SUCH AN INTELLECTUAL DUO

I'm glad that we got to hear Joe's JFK impression

COURT CASE TALK!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Bdubs will only let Doc win if it's funnier for doc to win, because that's how guilty doc was"

Joe quoting Sun Tsu and then going on the stand and said "Your Honor, Your Highness, my client is a baby" in an asymetric star trek dress, that's the Joe Hills Difference

"DELICIOUS" skizz i love how schadenfreude you are

"FIVE DIAMONDS PER F TIER BOOK???" impulse my favorite wet cat

"I'll make one sale every two months" and also implying that the shopping district has property taxes

the delivery on "two. some people say four" was SLICK

TUMBLR MCYT SEXYMAN POLL MENTION

"tumblr defines sexyman to mean 'most bizarre, cryptid, creepy thing' " not wrong there.

"well scar is obviously going to win the sexyman competition"

"once i found out that it's for weird, cryptid energy, I knew "oh nevermind I'm gonna win this"

joe hills is my favorite weird guy and he deserved to win

cleo as our nonbinary icon placing third place in the tumblr sexyman poll

All in all, fantastic podcast, and not long enough imo. I hope Joe gets to be there in person one day like he originally envisioned, and there's just an untapped well of information that could go into future podcasts

Reminder that you should subscribe and follow Joe!

BONUS, edited by me, please credit if you use it, I HIGHLY ENCOURAGE you to use it (original screencap under cut):

[kxsagi]

Good evening to you! I recently read that isagi fic of yours where the reader drooled over his thighs and how they looked in compression shorts (honestly so real #NEEEDTHATT ). I then couldn't stop thinking of Itoshi Rin in compression shorts.

HEAR ME OUT GUYS COME BACK JUST LISTEN WAIT🗣🗣🙍‍♀️🙌🙏

So i wanted to make a request for Itoshi Rin with a fem or gender neutral reader where its similar to that Isagi fic but with Rin? JSHEKAMKKAA IDKK I hope you don't mind this request and thank you if you read this 😭❤

“#𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐”

a/n: i fear this is my villain origin story 

i love watching rin edits and they just show that one part of him with the leg press machine in season 2 and his thighs are bulging out like 🤤

(idk art credits sorry 😖)

you’d like to think you’re a person of dignity. that you have self-restraint. but then rin itoshi walks into the living room in compression shorts like it’s no big deal. like he’s not out here casually committing crimes against your sanity. 

compression shorts. clinging to him. highlighting every sinew of muscle, every sharp curve of his thighs, like the fabric was custom-made to ruin your life. his quads look carved out of stone, taut and firm from years of training. you blink once, twice, and then just openly stare, because what’s the point in pretending? 

“what?” rin’s voice is flat, disinterested, like he hasn’t just casually unleashed the seventh circle of temptation into your living room. 

“... what do you mean ‘what’?” you blurt out, voice far too scandalized. you gesture vaguely at his legs. at the sin itself. “that. that’s illegal.” 

he gives you a slow, unimpressed blink. like you just said something profoundly stupid. because to him, this is nothing. just regular training attire. but to you? it’s a personal attack. 

he stretches his leg slightly, just to adjust his stance, and you swear you see god. the muscle shifts and flexes beneath the fabric, and your soul practically leaves your body. 

“you’re being weird.” his tone is completely flat, but his eyes linger on you for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. 

you snap. “don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

he shrugs, exuding the kind of calm indifference that makes you want to scream into a pillow. “i’m literally just standing here.” 

oh, the gaslighting. the audacity. as if he isn’t fully aware of the way his compression shorts are clinging to him like a second skin. 

he drops onto the couch beside you, legs slightly spread, muscles still taut from practice. like he’s not driving you insane on purpose. 

“you’re staring,” he mutters, eyes fixed on his phone, like he couldn’t be less bothered. 

“yeah,” you deadpan, “because you’re out here with your thighs of mass destruction.” 

he doesn’t even look up. just a disinterested hum, as if you’ve made an observation about the weather. like you’re not currently fighting for your life over there. 

“not my fault you’re weak,” he mutters. 

your eye twitches. “oh, you think this is funny?” you jab a finger at his thigh. bad decision. because the moment your finger brushes the firm muscle, you’re done for. his thigh is unreasonably solid. unfairly warm. you swear you feel a faint tremor in your hand. 

rin finally, finally, glances at you, one brow arched slightly. no emotion. just mildly condescending boredom. but there’s the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“go on, then.” his voice is low. neutral. “if it’s so distracting, just touch it already.” 

your brain fully short-circuits. you can’t tell if he’s being genuinely dismissive or just subtly cruel, because his expression doesn’t change at all. perfectly calm. unreadable. like he isn’t making you unravel from the inside out. 

and you hate yourself for how fast you comply. your fingers press into the firm muscle, heat blooming under your palm. and god, it’s everything you imagined and worse. 

“done?” rin asks, glancing at you like you’re the one inconveniencing him. 

“no,” you say instantly, gripping his thigh just a little tighter. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[kirlicues]

Townhomes for Large Families | Sims 2 Apartment Lot Download

500 followers! Wow! Thank you to all of you who have given this page a follow. I'm glad that you are enjoying the homes and hope they are making your neighborhoods prettier and happier places. 😊

As a little gift I've put together my first official apartment lots: Mapleview Terrace built on a 5x3 lot, and Hydrangea Court built on a 4x3 lot. These lots are free of CC that is not Maxis made. The Season Pre-Order bonus swingset is included in the larger lot, but if you use the Sims2Pack Clean Installer you can opt not to install it if you don't want it.

These townhomes were built especially for your larger sim families. Each home comes with 3 bedrooms--the larger lot even has one with a 4th bedroom!

The down side is that this means they are on the more expensive end of things and they aren't even that fancy looking in my opinion! The Mapleview Terrace apartments come furnished and will cost $3590-$3822. The Hydrangea Court Apartments are unfurnished except for the kitchen and bathrooms and will cost $3874-$3884.

But, let's take a short tour and you can decide if they are worth it for you.

These apartment lots were meant to be a set. They are fairly simple and non-descript on the outside, and you can line multiple lots up for a whole community of cookie-cutter apartments. 🤣 Feel free to paint them different colors though if you wish.

I originally built the shell on the larger townhome lot shortly before Apartment life came out. The goal was to have a place to stick the Maxis families that came in the sim bin so that they would have access to a telephone and not be unreachable except for as "walk-bys".

Here's what they look like at the back. These apartments are nearly identical in floorplan layout, one has 3 units and the other only has 2.

Mapleview Terrace:

Hydrangea Court: Putting solar panels on the roofs can help off-set the cost of rent I discovered, thanks to the helpful members of a Sims 2 Facebook group. 😊 The other lot has them too, but they just didn't make it into the picture.

Let's take a look at the floorplans!

Mapleview Terrace - 1st Floor:

Mapleview Terrace - 2nd Floor:

You might notice a slight theme to each home. But feel free to remove the furniture and redecorate if you want.

Here's what Hydrangea Court looks like. The layout is pretty much identical to Mapleview Terrace, but I did put nicer appliances in downstairs:

One more thing, The neighborhood view for the larger lot has the maple trees seeming to do a little "wave". It's just because I rotated them when placing them, but they should all be in a perfect row on the lot. :)

If you notice anything "off" about these apartments please let me know and I will try to fix the issue. If it's something that can only be accessed in build mode and the option is greyed out you can use this cheat and fix the thing: 'boolprop AptBaseLotSpecificToolsDisabled false' ...Just don't forget to turn it off by typing 'true' in place of 'false' when you're done!

A huge thank you to the folks in one for the Sims 2 groups on Facebook for letting me know what apartments needed or didn't need. 🎉

500 Followers Gift - Townhome Apartments Set: MF | SFS

All EPs and SPs are required.

*I highly recommend that you have the PerfectPlants mod from TwoJeffs*

I’ve run this home through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run it through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

This home uses 1 piece of CC, which is a Maxis pre-order bonus item from Seasons that you may already have in your game. It can easily be replaced or omitted if you don’t want it though.

CC List (Included): -Seasons Pre-Order Bonus “Garden Swing of Bliss and Harmony”

Default Replacements Shown: -More realistically colored Hydrangea shrub from @peppermint-ginger If you don’t have these in your game your Hydrangea shrub’s flowers will look neon blue. Purple Lupin shrub from Peppermint-ginger If you don’t have these in your game your Lupin will be blue. -White Wall Top Texture Replacement by Maranatah at Mod the Sims -Neon panels removed on the Forbidden Fruit bar/island default by Shastakiss. Pay attention to the special instructions. If you only want the Maxis counters adjusted with no additional new recolors you'll only need to pop "shasta_CEP_nl_nightclub_island_bar.package" in your downloads folder. -FreeTime bedding defaults by CuriousB

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Pack Clean installer to install lot files.

Want to improve the look of your game, or grab some “Lost & Found” Maxis objects? Check out this post.