#snag's sim tag

[screampied]

#RENT-A-DILF! t. fushiguro

ৎ୭ sum. sims 4? more like sims whore. out of procrastination and sheer boredom, you install this pretty new game titled ‘rent-a-dilf!’ the catch? he actually spawns in real life and wants more than just one day with you. girl…

wc. 8.1k (erm)

warnings. fem! reader, dilf! toji, loser girl reader, unprotected, size differences, size kinks, he’s reaaal nasty, brief toy usage, praise, dirty talk, fīngering, squīrting, face fúcking, me breaking the fourth wall, cunnīlingus, bjs, making him whine, implied marathons, breeding kink, impact play, petnames, toji being well … toji!

an. HUUGE thank u 2 kali @blkkizzat for beta'ing some !! <3 this came to me in a dream so… this is all over the place eheh.

“HEY, GIRL. WANNA GET DILFED? PLAY NOW!”

“huh..” you swipe a fat thumb down the dimly lit screen of your phone. ah, the things you do at the buttcrack of midnight. your eyes were glued to your device for about a good hour as you allowed curiosity to get the utter best of you.

RENT-A-DILF! ™ was a brand-spankin’ new romance simulation game. it was a cheap knockoff version of tinder and the sims combined but made up of purely dilf characters. it was easy, you’d list your desired preferences and the game would randomly choose the perfect matches for you. it’s a 50/50 chance that you’ll match with one of the higher-up characters—specifically, the newest one that recently got added to the roster of digital men. toji fushiguro, also known as his ridiculous alias of ‘GUTREARRANGER385.’

at first glance - he’s smokin’ hot.

the app allows you to spin toji around, swipe a thumb through his shaggy black bangs, and even dress him up. your eyes skimmed toward a few words near his bio that read, ‘thirty-three, single, verified dilf, full nelson / doggy enthusiast. . ,’ and an extra tag that read ‘oh, i’m also filthy rich.’

well…

toji was a top-rated character, and again, he was just added to the line-up about a few hours ago.

as you sink into the fat cushions of your pillows, you grip your phone.

it was almost eerie—it was as if the dark-haired character was looking straight at you. while you’re deep in thought, still taking in his displayed stats and filthy bio, your eyes trace back up toward his face. it reads that he’s about a staggering height of 6’2 and judging from his burly build alone, he was fuckin’ jacked.

such swole muscles . .

you couldn’t stop staring for a bit, and the black compression tank with loose-fitted shorts didn’t exactly help things either.

his stance was idle as he had an accessory of a priggish grin curling across both sides of his scarred lips.

his lips, you were so busy fawning over toji’s body that you didn’t even notice the scar that vertically ran down the right side of his mouth. it’s such a brief detail but it’s sexy.

you kind of wanted to know more about him. now that you thought about it, the game had dozens of ‘???’ symbols near the pink box where his lore was supposed to be. he’s new so you’d probably have to wait until you learn more about him.

with your eyes trailing back toward him, just so smug. you could tell from his demeanor despite him being just literal pixels on your glowy screen.

or so you thought..

“fuck it,” you sigh, lightly tapping the print of your thumb against the bright pink ‘marry me?’ button.

you did a lazy skim beforehand about the app’s so-called ‘pity system’ and how dim your chances were at actually snagging toji. like hell, you were gonna spend money on a game—you just had to hope that you were lucky.

it’s damn near close to one at night before you slouch back, sprawling your legs out in an attempt to get more comfortable.

staring at your screen and scratching your head, seconds . . minutes go by and nothing happens.

the game swallows up the last remnants of your free gems and you’re leering back at toji who you could’ve sworn just rolled his eyes at you.

what . . the . . fuuuck . .

okay, girl. sooo nothing happened. now what?

your brows start to contort together in frustration and now you are really bored.

all you wanted was to see what was the hype around this new popular dating-slash-romance-simulator game and now, you were disappointed.

then again, you’ve heard of how games like these were known to scam their players.

with an annoyed groan, you toss your phone near the edge of the bed before crawling over toward your burgundy-colored nightstand. there, you lightly pull on the wooden handle, opening your drawer.

your eyes land on your sparkly-colored rose toy. just about a few days ago, it came in the mail and you were oh-so ecstatic to try it out.

holding your thumb over the heart-shaped power button, you hear the loud ‘beeeep!’ indicating it’s turned on.

reclining back, you lift your nightgown before sighing deeply. hopefully, your cute ‘lil toy could help make you forget everything that just happened.

honestly, you didn’t really think the stupid game would work anyway. you’ll leave a one-star review later.

the entire game screamed a scam but hey, you only live once. it was worth a shot. actually, no it wasn’t.

but on the bright side,

you were starting to forget about the app the moment your pinched fingers slid your panties to the side. a soft moan leaves from your lips the moment the rubber edge of the vibrator smears against your bare clit. your back nearly arches forward, and as you’re gnawing on your bottom lip, you can feel your toes curling.

“f- fuck,” you swallow in an incoming breath, hearing the loud ‘bzzzz’-ing resounding through each of your paper-thin walls.

the stimulation had you forgetting about that shitty game within seconds. you lie back against your pillow, sweet harmonic whines purring out of your dry throat as you gradually succumb to your coarse thoughts.

then it hit you.

why don’t you just fantasize about . . him?

toji fushiguro.

dark-haired, smug grin, scarred sly lips, beefy build, and cold green eyes..

as you started to envision him in your clouded mind—you let off a soft whine. your thoughts were scrambled, but the first image that popped up in your brain was his arms. his muscles, the various veins that would pop through his biceps.

oh- you only imagined what it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around your throat.

the thoughts alone make your thighs squeeze together, and the buzzing from the toy shrieks even louder once you turn it up a single notch.

‘powering off. . !’

wait,

what?

snatched straight out of your lewd fantasm, your fingers pause as they lie against the rubber toy. your eyes widen once the vibrating stops— and then in your room, it’s dead quiet again.

“you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” you whine, the realization that your toy dying mid-fantasy making your mood turn even more sour.

first, you lose in the game and you lose at playing with yourself too? damn, girl you’re a failure!

oh uh, sorry.

“heh, need help, sugar?”

you freeze the minute your ears perk up, hearing a smoky raspy voice. its low, with a bit of huskiness underneath it too. coldness sets against your thighs, creeping at the skin that hides underneath your pulled-up nightgown before you gulp.

was that…

“yeah, it’s me. y’er wished uh- ‘dilf.’ whatever i’m supposed to say,” toji adds in a raspy tone, crossing his beefy arms with a puffed-out chest. it was as if he was reading your mind. you probably had the dumbest expression plastered across your face because toji then smirked. “what? y’er toy that failed to make you cum made you speechless too? awwwh.”

smug bastard.

a wave of embarrassment crept against your skin as you closed your dangling, open jaw. oh fuck.

he saw that- he saw you, little ‘ole you playing with yourself. just seconds ago, you were fantasizing about if he really was here, and now actually he is.

in the flesh . . . literally.

“i… uh,” you stammer, struggling to form a proper sentence. toji stands tall, a few inches away from the edge of your bed. hooded, green eyes stare at you and he’s just loving it - the way your eyes rove down his body, openly checking him out.

he wore the same outfit you picked out for him in the game.

a compression tank top with some shorts. (you added a tiny pink bow on his head just to be funny) the more you ogled at him with cute, enlarged eyes—the more you realized just how big he was. ‘big’ was an understatement, the guy was huge. toji towered over you even while you were lying in bed. “wow,” you softly utter, your eyes coincidently landing on his bulge.

toji was packed- and it was as if his bulge was having a staring contest right back at you.

“i know, darlin.’ he’s big ain’t he?” toji snickers.

you finally meet toji’s eyes before scoffing. his personality traits weren’t kidding about him at all. he’s cocky. “i’m just- you’re real?”

“pretty much.”

“but… how?”

“touch me ‘n find out, darlin.’”

you deadpan, but it was tempting.

you don’t even realize that you’re already sitting up from your bed—slowly inching yourself toward him.

toji eyes you with the same impish simper, puffed chest, and hefty arms crossed. he’s so brawny, and the moment you softly feel on his left bicep with a hand, he snickers.

“mhm,” he mumbled under his breath, and you could feel his muscles tense at your touch. multiple veins pulsed down his exposed arms and oh- the entire thing was so sensual.

you still felt embarrassed but now you started to feel something else. toji noticed you started to stare at his hands and he raised a dark brow. “this not enough for you, yeah?” your eyes widened once he then bent down, a few inches away from your face. he’s actually real, and sure, you were probably staring at literal pixels but you didn’t care. “want me ‘ta touch you, pretty girl?”

“please,” you whine, and that single word comes out of your mouth so quickly. it flew past your lips within and split a second and you didn’t even register how fuckin’ whiny you sounded in front of him.

your body was burning hot, and you were blazing up underneath your nightgown. “i- i mean, yeah,” you try to play it cool, only embarrassing yourself even further. toji’s so close thought that you could fully smell him.

he smelled manly, a citrusy mixture of wood sage and leather. it’s strong, so strong that it makes you blink thrice.

“yeah what?” toji gruffs, and god he’s just getting closer ‘n closer. by now, he’s just a few spaces away from kissing you.

you’re hoping - praying that he couldn’t hear the dramatic thumps of your heart’s weak pulse.

it’s pounding loudly, competing with drums with each ba-dump! it creates in your chest. toji softly cups your chin, and raises a thin brow once you lean into his touch right away.

“ ‘m gonna need to hear that pretty mouth tell me what to do.” and his smoky voice softens just a bit.

leafy eyes intently stare at you before they shift toward your quivering glossed lips. you’re needy and oh, could he tell.

you lock eyes with toji before letting off a cute sigh. it’s more of a frustrated one—and he’s gingerly rubbing a thumb down your pouty bottom lip. “touch- i want you to touch me, toji.”

“aht ahttt. manners, darlin’,” toji eggs on, guiding his thumb near the corner of your lips. the edge was killing you, and the haughtiness in his voice only made you more irritated. “ ‘pretty please?’ c’mon, talk to me nice.”

toji’s simper turns pompous as he watches you attempt to shoot daggers at him. your knees squeeze together and you’re just so impatient that you just sucked it up, complying. “p.. pretty please, touch me toji.”

“good girl,” he murmurs, and his voice pitched a bit lower this time. it’s almost dangerous, and you gasp once his big hand snakes around your neck.

you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this is even real - but fuck, you were never one to complain.

toji takes a glance at your snapped-shut thighs and he chuckles. “aw, poor thing. that cute rose toy didn’t seem to be much help, huh?”

“……”

ouch.

he just had to remind you of that. but his hand around your neck felt good. he’s gentle, slowly making his way down your chest. toji then starts to make you lie down on your back.

with a flop! the comfy queen-sized bed springs out and you sigh.

“toooji,” and it’s almost like you’re whining again. you hated how slow he was taking, and you knew it was on purpose. the stare he’s giving your body makes you almost moan. your room was slightly dim, but you could still make out his towering wide silhouette. “m- more.”

toji gets on your bed, the mattress dipping from the sudden weight before he grumbles. “bet you fuckin’ do,” and you gasp once he stares between your legs. you moan, watching as toji starts to smell your thighs. he doesn’t just smell though, he’s slowly rubbing his nose and entire face up and down your skin. he’s feral already, and you could tell just from the grunt that leaves his lips shortly after. “ ‘m guessin’ you don’t want me to just touch you anymore, huh sugar?”

“no,” you breathlessly reply, nearly writhing from his touch once his shaggy bangs ghost against your skin.

toji could already smell between your legs. so peachy, and he even made out the faint candied aroma of your body wash that lingered on your skin. your back was already creating an arch at the temptation alone. once his barred hands sprawl your legs apart, he stares straight at your dripping cunt.

oh - you were perfect..

toji huffs, taking a second to smear a thumb down your slit that’s dribbling with so much slit.

leisurely, it cascades down your folds and you watch with glassy eyes once he brings his same thumb up to his lips, getting a taste. “mmm, ain’t that a treat,” and you moan, a hand of yours clawing on his head. toji snickers, feeling your weak grip trying to push him further between your thighs. “my, aren’t you impatient,” toji rasps with a guffaw. “but heh- fine, spread these legs f’ me. ‘s been a while since i’ve eaten good anyway.”

and the moment toji feasts himself between your pretty plush thighs — you were fuckin’ screwed..

he was a literal animal. the second his tongue delves itself inside of your cunt - he’s insane.

toji grunts, pursing his carmine-colored lips as your feeble hips start to rock against his mouth.

“o- ohhh my god,” you’d whimper, tugging at his raven strands. his head movement was just ferocious, swerving from the left to right.

his tongue’s stupidly long too, and toji dips it inside of your pussy before fishing it right back out. he reels it out of your puffed folds before diving right back in.

he’s sluuuurping you as if his life depended on it, savoring your sweetened taste as his lips stuck against your clit. “ngh- fuck, toji,” and your lips couldn’t help but curl into a cute oval.

his tongue..

he’s bullying it between your folds, profusely circling the pointed tip around your pretty ‘lil clit. briefly, it gets trapped within his teeth and toji gives it a little nibble.

a soft yelp! rips out of your throat at the tender munch of his canines playfully munching on your sweetest spots. toji found it cute how you were so squirmy, so much so that his callused rough hands had to hold your hips down. with a cute shimmy, you’re wriggling your twitching sex against his mouth.

already, you watch the glittery stream of your slick starting to drip drip drip down his chin.

toji’s green eyes glance up at you and he snickers, popping in a single digit. slooowly, you feel his thumb sinking inside of your cunt before disappearing into the void of your entrance. you’re moaning, maintaining your firm grip on his head before whimpering. “mm, yank on it harder why don’tcha.”

toji grumps—his head pulling forward roughly at your adorable strength. he’s buried not six inches deep but nose deep, and you shiver once the tip of his button nose starts to rub up ‘n down your sobbing pussy.

he’s addicted- not only that but the epitome of pussy drunk.

“tojiiiii!” you slur out his name, a gasp shortly following out of your lips. the dexterous shapes and curves of his tongue make you whine out his name again . . and again . . and a-fuckin’-gain.

as he’s easing another thick finger inside of your cunt, you’re starting to fantasize.

why didn’t men like him exist in real life?!

he’s messy, giving each area of your cunt a multitude of sloppy kisses. bubbles of saliva trickle past the corners of his lips as he’s stuffed right between your legs.

toji’s damn near animalistic- his buds continuing to whine out for more of your divine taste.

he doesn’t think he’s tasted anything this good since.

you’re full, exhaling a sharp breath once you feel him plug in yet another digit.

“biiiig stretch, baby. three’s the fuckin’ charm,” toji huskily groans, staring straight at your pussy.

it’s so pretty, he’d never get over the shine that coats the entirety of your loving entrance. if he’d squint, he’d mistaken your clit for a blossoming flower. a more lewd one at least anyway.

it’s sloppy with the way he’s got three fat fingers barreling inside of you at once. toji watches as your stomach dips and you’re gasping, tightly pulling at his scalp. “hehhh, atta girl. get these fingers wet if you want toji sir later.”

toji sir….?

just as you were about to eye roll, you let off a moan once you hear the ridiculously wet sloshes of your cunt. he’s pumping all fingers in and out of you while flicking his tongue — multitasking.

with a ‘pop!’ he takes one out before sliding it back in, feeling you bare around each digit like a good girl. “oh- fuck, please don’t stop. pleaseplease,” and you grow even more hysterical as you’re just basically fucking against his face now.

as you’re jerking your hips against toji’s face, you feel a bit of stubble along with his slanted scar smearing against your cunt.

it tickled, but oh- you weren’t laughing.

your eyes were rolling at the enticing sways of his tongue every time. they reach deep- far deeper than the tips of his fingers if that was even possible. as toji’s still idly swirling his flat tongue inside of your gummy orifice, he hears you exhale a deep shriek. “ ‘m gonna cum!”

“awh,” toji slyly murmurs, and you coo out a surprised ‘oooh’ the moment he snatches out of his dewy-coated fingers.

they’re covered in translucent webs of your tangled slick when he gives your cunt a pat. “hear that, baby? said she’s gonna cum,” and he’s not even looking at you. verdant eyes gave your pussy his entire uninvited attention instead, and you feel him blowing his hot breath against your puffy slit. toji even presses his ear up to your wet folds before nodding. “mhm. ‘s exactly what i’m sayin.’”

“uh?? are you seriously talking to my pu—”

“quiet now, sugar. you’ll get y’er turn,” toji utters, making you moan with a spanking right against your fluttering clit. as you’re still laid back with your legs widely splayed out, you quietly bite back whimpers once his palm starts to maneuver a circle around your entrance.

a wet splash! ends up making you spurt out a few droplets of slick right onto the center of his hand. “nasty giiiirl,” he purrs, turning his palm around before licking it right up while staring dead at you.

your neck starts to feel a bit numb as it’s slightly raised just so you can keep staring at toji. he’s just toying with your pussy, casually flicking his tongue against your nub just to hear you whine.

“t- tojiiii.” you wail out, feeling your nerves practically scream at you.

you felt every bundle of axons in your body violently shake you to your very core. your thighs wrapped around toji’s broad neck, merely suffocating him—but he had to admit, going out like this wasn’t so bad..

“give it t’ me then,” he gruffly rasps against your pussy. his breath yet again fans against your folds, noticing that cute ‘lil pulse that would always occur whenever his lips were just a few inches apart.

toji even whistles against your slit, lolling out his tongue before lapping you up from top to bottom.

teasingly, he even goes down toward your neglected puckering hole to give it a loving lick. “all on my tongue, girl. hah- make a mess,” he continues, and you’re whimpering as he’s gruffly talking you through your incoming release.

all you’re seeing is nothing but white once it finally comes. bright, blinding splotches of white that blur your vision for a few seconds..

the moment you let go, you let off a sweet squalling orgasm that rings through your ears and toji’s.

more of a sobbing battle cry and it’s oh-so cute.

at least toji thought so, and he could feel the lessening hold of your fingers releasing from his ravened tresses.

toji’s slurping you clean, making sure his tongue doesn’t miss a drip of your syrupy mess. it coats down on his tongue perfectly, falling on his sizzling tastebuds and even pouring a stream down his chiseled chin.

“there we go girl, uh huhhh.” as he’s talking with his mouth full, you fall back against your bed.

you’re beat - stars clouding your vision and your current state was so cartoonish.

your legs felt like they stopped working, no batteries left in each limb and you’re still moaning whilst he’s lapping up the last few syrupy drops.

licking near the crevices of your inner thighs, toji hums. “heh. y’er cute. ‘s been a while since you’ve got eaten out, sugar?”

in a sluggish mumble, you stare at toji with metaphorical heart eyes. “i guess.”

“poor baby,” he clicks his tongue, sitting up. you’re panting heavily, watching as he gets up. toji’s broad body hovers over you and he runs a hand through his matted black strands. “y’know-” he pauses at the feeling of your hand reaching near his shorts. toji looks at you before snickering, raising a brow. “aw, don’t tell me you want a taste too. ‘s that what you want?”

“mhm,” you utter, and you don’t even realize you are drooling once you’re fondling your fingers with the hem of his briefs. they’re a viridescent green, matching his eye color. once you meet the strip of his boxers with bold black letters that read, ‘DADDY TOJI,’ you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

of course he’d wear briefs that had his name on them.

“don’t be shy, girl,” toji murmurs, placing a wide palm on your head.

you crawl forward as he’s now lying down on the bed with you on your knees. toji’s tank top was wrinkly, and it was pulled up just a tad bit for you to peep at his snatched waistline. it’s sharp, you’d guess that if you tried to touch his hips you’d be left with a paper cut. “ ‘m alllll yours t’night. and he watches as you waste no time, speedily pulling down his boxers.

you’re met that same huge bulge you saw when he was in the game—

it’s big, so big that it almost looked painful.

the way it poked out the fabric, hardening from the tent that was concealing it from being sprung out.

once you pull down his briefs, his cock eventually does spring out, and your eyes cutely widen. “f- fuck.”

“yeahh, toji sir’s gonna be inside you in a minute.”

“stop talking about your dick like it’s a person.”

“make me.”

he’s so annoying,

silence was your reply and toji snickers once he sees you deadpan. he liked getting on your nerves. he found it cute how you were trying to keep up your stubborn façade while wrapping a hand around his monstrous length at the same time.

but fuck.. he’s just so thick-

at first, toji could barely fit around your entire palm. his tip’s swollen, a ruddy crimson red with a pearly split tip.

it’s got veins running from not just one side but all, and you were frothing inside of the mouth just imagining that thing down your throat. you’re so close up to it, glancing at the tears of pre-cum that snivel from the meaty sides. you couldn’t help but give his rounded tip a few kitten kisses.

“m-mhm,” toji grunts, his core muscles underneath his tightly fitted shirt flexing.

seconds later, you softly swirl your tongue around his tip—getting a good enough taste before humming with a closed-eye smile. “go ‘head, get a taste.”

toji’s hand claws on the crown of your head once he ogles at the sight before him.

you - arched over, a hand slowly jerking up and down his hefty shaft. a vein on his dick prods against your finger the moment you cup your lips around his head. it’s massive, and it takes you a second to relax your jaw out.

“nnghm-” you blink twice, laying your wet tongue flat against his flushed crown. toji watches, and he’s oh-so smug. the hooking curve he had on his cock didn’t help either.

you could already start to feel the creases of your mouth numb as you tried to fit him inside. the bittersweet taste of his pre-cum lingers on your buds as your lashes suddenly close.

“niiiiiice ‘n slow, babygirl. you got it,” toji says in a smoky gruff.

the muscles in his burly thighs tense the more your mouth slams down on him. with his nostrils flaring up, toji lets off a loooong groan that puffs out of his chest. “fuuuckk-” he grunts, feeling your tongue circle its way around his sparkly tip.

it’s glimmering with excess dewdrops of cum and you couldn’t help but lap up every drop. toji then sits up on his knees, making you keep your current position.

his knees dig into the plush mattress as he stares at how you’re slowly taking him in your mouth.

with a hand still wrapped around his thick shaft, your lashes flutter once his bulbous cockhead kisses against your uvula. “ahn-” you gulp, a few strands of saliva pouring down the corners of your cracked lips. toji groans, feeling you already starting to lather his entire meaty length with spit as a substitute for lubricant.

it’s messy - and toji eyes you the entire time, his grip against the top of your head getting a bit stronger.

“good girl, mhm. no teeth, n- no fuckin’ teeth. wanna feel that pretty tongue ‘n that tight throat,” and you let off a muffled moan once his tip sloppily drubs against the back of your throat yet again.

you lie your tongue flat, making it wander everywhere—tasting the tasteless veins that were shaped akin to lightning strikes.

it’s all over his cock, and your eyes are closed as you try to savor every inch that eases its way down your right throat. “god- that’s it, that’s what this cute mouth is for, yeah? for dick, huh,” and some more drool seeps from your lips as toji holds up your chin, rubbing a thumb over your mouth. “p- put that mouth to good use, sugar.”

your plump lips wrap around toji’s cock as your head starts to bobble. wholly, you’re taking him in with the end of your conic-shaped tongue teasingly sliding down the midline of his shaft.

toji’s nostrils flare up as he starts to push you closer into his unsteady hips, sucking in a dramatic breath once he feels you starting to wetly fist his cock quicker with one hand.

again, it’s damn biiig, throbbing in the palm of your hand and you moan once you guide your other hand between your legs.

with quick reflexes though, toji reaches in and gives your wrist a slight swat.

“no touchin’, girl.” he grumbles, and you let off a pout as your puffed cheeks heat up. “don’t worry about her right now, she’s fine where she’s at, promise.”

if you didn’t have your mouth occupied you’d smack your lips to voice your frustration, but alas…

your head continues to bobble as you take various fat inches down your throat, occasionally taking a second to breathe for air.

toji’s abs flex as you continue, digging his thick stubby fingers down your scalp. “mmp-” you let off a muffled moan, feeling your thighs squeeze shut.

pathetically enough, you were still dripping and the conditioned air fanning against your exposed skin only made you ten times more sensitive. toji lets off a deep, heavy sigh once you start to fondle his balls.

they were all round ‘n swollen, and he nearly choked on his own words once feels your stringy saliva trickle down toward his heavy, neglected sack.

“nasty s- slut,” he huffs out, already starting to feel his cock tightening. your throat and its warmth were dangerous—and he can feel your jaw starting to slacken. “mmm, gettin’ handsy on me, yeah pretty girl?” and toji brings two fingers toward your face, plugging your nose.

it only lasts about two seconds and you moan, his dick sloppily popping out of your mouth and he hears you gasp. a lustrous stream of spit starts to dribble down your chin as you pant, cutely glaring at him.

“aw, such a messy baby. look at that wet jawww,” he smears a hand down your chin, watching you lean back in.

toji grunts, feeling you grip his base and he knew sooner rather than later, that he was getting close.

you’re opening your throat niiice and wide as if you were preparing to belt out a high note. he’s tapping back against the roof of your mouth and near your twitching uvula repeatedly, and that’s when toji starts to thrust his hips into your mouth.

“fuck, f- fuckk keep goin’,” his voice starts to pitch deeper with an even more husky rasp before he starts to pant. “ ‘m gonna cum, gonna fuckin’ cum right down this messy throat. ‘s that what ya want, pretty?”

“mhm,” your head nods, and you could feel your cunt twitching between your legs at the erotic imagery.

the mental image of toji splattering ropes and ropes of hot cum on your achy pink tongue. it makes you nearly drool just imagining it, and you start to moan again.

toji groans, never getting over the lewd sliminess of your saliva mixing. sloppy strands continue to fall past the edges of your quivering lips as your glassy eyes glance up at him.

toji’s puffing and huffing feverish heavy breaths that make you throb even more. his chest sinks in and out as he’s preparing to shoot a nice load right on your tongue. “hah- fine then, open wide baby girl. better take it all.” toji groans, shivering once your lips tickle down the slope of his frenulum.

with a loud spurt! toji ends up releasing, slimy creamy strings gradually painting near the inside of your mouth.

it comes out slow but it’s so hot- you let off a soft mewl at the bitterly somewhat sweet taste soaking on your highly anticipated tastebuds.

“mmmh.” you let off a satisfied hum, flapping your lashes as he dumps such rivulets of cum down your throat. frosty ribbons ooze down your throat one drop at a time and toji grunts.

“hah- good . . good fuckin’ girl, c’mere.” toji grunts.

as you’re trying to catch your breath yourself, he softly pulls you up by the neck, bringing you into a sultry hot kiss. you moan once his scarred lips harshly crash against yours at full speed.

toji swipes his tongue across the edge of your mouth, barely batting an eye that he’s tasting remnants of his cum on your lips.

as both tongues mercilessly fight for dominance, toji leans you to lie back down on the bed. he’s warm, and you can feel him shiver once you drag a palm down his beefy chest.

you taste a bit of mint on his tongue as he parts your legs with one hand blindly, giving your bare pussy a playful squeeze with his entire wrist.

“mmmpf-” you whimper against his lips, and toji’s big hands slowly trail their way toward your untouched tits. he squeezes them also.

you feel a curve of a smile from toji stretch against your lips as he hears you whine. still delving his greedy tongue in and out of your mouth, occasionally tilting his head, toji brushes his thumbs against the fleecy fabric of your nightgown that sheaths your perked nipples.

before you know it though—you now found yourself bent over and arched.

your lips were all hot and swollen, ridden entirely and you already missed his lips on yours as you laid chest flat down with a cute pout. you could feel toji’s eyes running down your back, shortly hearing a titter come from him once he stops to look at you.

“goddamn, sugar,” toji lets off a whistle as he enjoys the view from the back. your face was met between your fluffed pillows as you chewed on your lip in utter anticipation.

your slicked orifices were just weeping out with your syrupy arousal, clenching from the cold air aerating against it. toji wanders his eyes down the cute shape of your ass with his shaft in hand.

his stare - you could feel it, including the incoming chill that ran down your spine.

with a loud echoing spank, toji swats a hand against your ass, groaning at the jiggly flesh. “so pretty ‘n plump. ‘m gonna take my time with you.”

you moan as your ass instinctively wriggles. toji’s rough wide hands softly caress down your hips before he starts to align himself.

here it goes…

you were mentally preparing yourself, biting on the edge of your cottony pillow. the instant you feel his dewy tip smudge its head against your folds, you let off a deep sigh. shortly afterward, a sweet ‘oooh!’ departs from your lips from the fat size alone. your stomach was already seizing, and the wait was steadily killing you. “fu- fuck,” you croak out, hearing toji’s husky breathing from behind you.

all eyes were on you, and your sweet drooling cunt that just doesn’t know when to stop leaking.

it’s a gorgeous sight in his eyes—

the way how your pulsing inside your clit started to accelerate more ‘n more once he brings his flushed cockhead towards your entrance. “ahh, such a pretty pussy. let’s get the good girl a bit more loose,” toji heaves, and your mouth drops the second his hips sharply pierce inward. gradually, he’s starting to ease his way in..

he’s slow and gentle—

mainly because just a bit of pressure and he’d snap you in half like a twig.

he was that big, and once you were starting to feel the splitting stretch of his cock, you were hysterical. “ohmygoddd.” you blurb out, your hips already pathetically stuttering.

the stretch was so delicious, it’s so good that your eyes were starting to roll back toward the back of your skull yet again. toji groans, feeling your cunt trying to hug against him tightly, greeting him with a cute gummy flutter.

once his thick tip bullies its way inside with its sheer size instead of words alone… it’s game over.

a single thrust was enough to snap you right into reality, and you moan right as his hips punctuate its first hit.

that single hit soon turns into a combo, and toji’s cock started to maintain a decent pace before striking your cunt at all angles. he stares at the fat of your ass that bounces back against his sharp pelvis and he grunts.

“hah- that’s it, girl. fuck back into me, yeah.” and another rude palm smacks against your ass cheek. you whimper, feeling your toes curl at his weight pressing right up against you.

toji lifts his shirt which was practically gluing against his skin due to his masses of sweat. leaning in all the way close, he hovers his weight over you—making his abs rock against you as he starts to grind on your body.

“lemme hear ya,” he hoarsely whispers, feeling your cunt twitch the moment he wraps a hand around the back of your throat.

toji’s strokes were mean-

the epitome of ruthless once he’s just straight-up jackhammering into your walls.

your legs didn’t take long to become wobbly as you were whining his name constantly, choking on your crude inaudible syllables.

“toji—”

“again, not you little girl,” and you moan once his tip thrashes deep into your cervix. it’s nearly reaching there, attempting to drown it with sloppy vigorous kisses.

a palm goes over your mouth, muffling your sweet repetitive moans before he smirks.

“her,” and you whine, feeling him creep a free hand down between your parted thighs. toji rubs circles against your stuffed full cunt, hearing your whimpers pitch louder.

his rhythm was the definition of crazy, and as he was pounding into you continuously, you were slobbering all over the bare center of his palm. toji spanks between your legs, hearing your muffled yelp before lowly chuckling against your ear. a loud splash was heard from your cunt and he starts to smear it back against your throbbing entrance.

“mhm, see baby. she’s tryna talk to me again. ‘m more interested to see what she’s got to say,” and your eyes were practically crossed-eyed now. as toji’s deep voice talks your ear off, he playfully nibbles on your lobe. “wet pussy first, then the whiny wet girl, yeah?”

“mmph-” you moan, bawling your sheets into the open palms of your hand. toji gawks as your body starts to gradually lift.

it’s cute- your ass raises and you’re trying to match his pace. toji’s hitting you well and he’s hitting you deep.

each tilt of his hips sends you whiplash and you’re hacking on your own spit. “mmng.” as your muffled sounds resounded through your walls, you feel his hand go against your ass again.

toji’s favorite part always was to just see your skin bounce back against his.

the jiggle—it was the icing on the cake. the swerves of his hips have you getting dick-drunk within seconds.

bulging widely, your eyes enlarge the exact moment you feel something go against the back of your head.

it’s his foot- thankfully he’s wearing socks.

“fuuuck, such a nasty fuckin’ grip,” toji growls, bringing both hands toward your hips again. he’s holding you firmly, with his foot raising toward the back of your neck. you let off an even prettier moan this time, mutely gasping from the angle.

with toji’s foot near the back of your head, he’s in an even deeper position. “take it. take this dick, t- take it.” as you’re moaning, toji pushes you further into the follow.

oh- you were getting close again.

very, very close. so close that you could taste it in your tongue, it’s salty flavor never subsided.

it was coming quickly, and this time it felt a bit different.

your cunt’s glossing the entirety of toji’s cock that buries itself inside of your clingy walls before he groans. taking the pillow out of your mouth, your words and sounds aren’t so muffled anymore. “t- toji! somethin’s about to—”

“i know… iiiii know,” he cuts you off, and his thrusts against you start to slow. slow but still insanely deep.

you feel a bit of a bulge nudge against the lower pit of your tummy and you exhale. he’s in wholly, stretching out your pretty pussy and rearranging your insides—ironically enough just like his alias name.

“let go for me,” and you moan once he releases his foot from behind you, cupping your chin with a bare hand. you’re a mess, drooling from the sides of your swollen pursed lips before whining. “trust me, sugar. let go.”

at his words—you end up ‘letting go’ which fet like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

you’ve had orgasms but this felt like an entirely new world. you’re gushing out, sprinkling out a small clear stream on his cock before gasping.

your legs were on their last few hinges before collapsing and your eyes widened larger. “toji, toji s- shiiiit,” you ramble with furrowed brows and a dangling dropped jaw.

you’ve never felt more wet, and your entire body blissfully relaxes once your release comes.

toji’s still inside you before he sneers. your body gets limp and he squeezes your plump lips together. “woahhh,” he gruffs, pressing his chin onto your right shoulder. you shiver once you feel the clammy mess stick and soak between your thighs. “did you just squirt on me?”

“s- sorry, sorry,” you moan, feeling your left leg twitch. you’re still spurting out and it’s like a crashing wave that just keeps coming.

toji rubs a thumb against your lips, his hips coming to a sudden pause.

“ah. don’t apologize, silly girl,” toji coos against your neck, planting a kiss near your skin. he feels your body slumping but toji raises a brow once you make him pull out, lightly pushing him back on the bed. “oh? what’s this, sweetheart?” he lands on his chest before snickering. “atta girl. not scared ‘ta look me in the eye.”

“s.. shut up, toji.”

“hmph. how rude.”

toji ends up fucking you stupid, fucking the brain cells—whatever brain cells you had left in your brain by dumbing you down with fat inches of his cock.

round after round after round . .

you’re an entire drooling, babbling mess and despite your legs nearly giving out, you only wanted more..

he did countless positions with you, making you moan out his name constantly until it’s the only word that can slip past your glossed lips. until it’s the only word that can formulate in your brain.

you’re dumbfounded at his stamina - his speed.

you lost track of time and you were sure it was probably waaay past one am by now.

you were currently on top of toji, riding him with the loud creaks of your bed groaning in agony from both active bodies.

your hips were so sensual, rockin’ back and forth while he had a hand attached to your waist the entire time. that sly grin that painted across his lips never left. “yeahhh, girl. use those hip—ack,” and toji pauses mid-sentence once your hand wraps around his throat. “heh- the fuck?”

“you talk too much, toji.” you puff, watching his smug grin widen even more. he’s not even fazed?

oh- he’s turned on.

toji’s sat man-spread with his hand still gripping your hip. his cock’s puncturing inside of your cunt deeply, massaging thoroughly through your walls like its life depended on it.

the view of you swerving your body on his lap turned him on a lot more than he thought it would. it was just something about the way you moved your hips, going in circles and fuck- it drove him mad.

“funny comin’ from a pretty girl with a pussy who doesn’t know when to-”

you shut him up right away by placing your lips on his. toji grunts, leaning into your touch. you felt his hardened scar rub against the side of your lip before your hips quickened.

you’re slow - lustfully torturing toji with your hips. his cock’s pumping in and out of your cunt, feeling you freely writhe around him.

you taste sweet, and he tilts his head back as both crowns of teeth clash at full force. the constant stretch of his hooked cock never fails to leave you speechless as you whisper out soft moans against his thin lips.

“mmph-” toji gruffs, the bed’s creaking turning into mere wails.

you’re bouncing on him now, still having a hand wrapped around his throat before flicking your tongue against his. toji smacks your ass, then he does it again, and again.

hearing your shrilling whines makes him squeeze the fat of your flesh, eagle-spreading his legs even wider like the slut he was.

his body’s just overly glossed with sweat, it shines down his buff physique before you slowly pull away from him. slimy tangled strands of saliva tear away from each lip as toji stares at you.

it’s a mere pout on his lips before he huffs, tilting his head back. “ ‘m gonnaaa fuckin’ cummm,” he blurts in a thick tone, dragging out his elongated words due to your pussy making it hard for him to think straight. “hah- y’er hips are evil, sugar. fuck, gonna milk me.”

as he sucks in a honed sharp breath, feeling the weight of your hips swerve uncontrollably in hypnotizing arcs, toji slips out a whine.

it’s subtle, and you had to really listen to hear his husky tone pitch but you heard it. you watch as the veins in his neck pop, and as you’re still choking him, it turns him on even more.

his cock throbs fiercely inside of you, smacking against each gummy spot that’s located in your sloppy, spongy walls. you had a grip that he just couldn’t get enough of. it was cute how your hand could barely fit all the way around his thick neck anyway, but nonetheless—

toji ends up shooting blanks abruptly, a gruff groan leaving past his lips once he feels himself preparing to shoot inside of you. with your panties still glued to the sides of your thighs, you let off another bundle of exaggerated moans, slowing your pace down.

“f- fuck,” you inhale, feeling toji dig his nails into your left ass cheek. he’s clenching down his tense jaw tightly, emerald eyes flickering back for a moment as his mouth remains slightly agape.

once his milky knot’s pooling its way deep into the barrier of your womb, you let off a shuddering whine. “toji, fill me up, mhm- don’t stop.”

“ugh-” he groans, feeling the weight of his sack start to gradually shrivel up inside of you. the sight of you straddling him was enough to make him cum alone.

toji’s entire body felt hot - scorching, but compared to the dryness of his throat was an entirely different story..

he’s got so much, wads ‘n clods of creamy, gooey seed that plugs its way into your cunt.

you finally sit still, listening to the loud sloshes of all pounds of flesh grinding together. toji’s chest heaves in and out as he’s still got a hand glued to your ass, feeling his cock excessively droooool out such creamy lumps of cum.

“s- sugar,” and his sleazy smile returns on his lips again. toji’s fucked dumb just as much as you were, and you could tell because of how droopy and half-open his eyes were. “heh, got some nerve m- milkin’ me like that. some hah- nerve.”

“you don’t seem so cocky now, toji.” you hum, bringing a chaste kiss against his lips. a stocky arm wraps around your waist before his eyes close, locking lips with you for the final time, hungrily swallowing his low grunts whilst the two of you exchange saliva.

“girl whatever,” he grumbled with sass, and he was still cumming. you let off a soft moan, feeling a brief pudge from just how much he dumped into your pussy. you were leaking from the sides of your thighs, streams of frothy white tearing from each lip. toji licks against your lips before hearing your phone interrupt the two of you with a loud, screeching ‘beeeep!’ with a snarl, he huffs. “the fuck is that?”

you turn toward the side of the bed, reaching for your phone. “my phone, hold on-” and as he’s still plugged into you fully, keeping your walls tight ‘n snug with not only his shaft but his enormous sticky load, you squint. “huh..” and it’s a notification from the app ‘RENT-A-DILF!’

“what’s it say? hah- better be important,” toji mumbles, letting off a soft groan from the feeling of your hips shifting against him.

“ooh. it says . . i matched with a new character,” you reply, taking a moment to scroll your thumb down the brightly pink screen.

it displayed a new character that must’ve been added to the roster a few minutes ago.

as your eyes skim at the coral-pink description box, it mentions in bold how he’s not exactly a dilf like the other male leads….. buuuut the catch was that he was dashingly handsome.

and to be honest, the more you stared at the character with a lit cigarette sticking out of his lips and was draped in a jet-black tuxedo.. yeah, he was pretty hot.

“hm. says his name is shiu kong,” and you look back at toji who’s got a look of literal disgust. “what? do you know him?”

“………………….”

hehe.

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips

Warnings: As per, explicit language and grammatical errors.

dates on tweets don't exist, right? they're all just fake??

series masterlist | previous part | next part

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oscarpiastri A week full of sim training, rage rooms and relaxation before going home for a p1 on the podium (hopefully) (max let me have this i beg) tagged: redbullracing, yn.horner

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logansargeant did I not tell you rage rooms were the coolest ever -> oscarpiasrti yeah yeah keep bragging 🙄 -> logansargeant well since you gave me permission-

fan38 at least its a controlled environment to deal with your emotions -> yn.horner thank FUCK i convinced him to do this instead of what Ruben wanted -> rubenholtt what was wrong with egging and tp-ing her house? -> yn.horner uhh everything???

maxverstappen1 I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you grew up 10 minutes from the track -> oscarpiastri BOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅

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user358 make him wear them!!

oscarpiastri The glasses are NOT the issue and you know it. -> yn.horner What you think I don't look good with facial hair? -> oscarpiastri Hey don't put words in my mouth -> oscarpiastri I just wasn't expecting you to pick up looking like THAT

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redbullracing The face of a man that snagged P2 AT HIS HOME RACE, channelled his inner Elle Woods ("What, like it's hard?") and then proceeded to not elaborate any further tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri What can I say, I'm just built diff 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ -> liked by author

danielricciardo We stand on business here -> oscarpiastri And that's on what? -> yn.horner PERIODTTTTTT

user325 AND NOT A SINGLE DISQUAL IN SIGHT -> danielricciardo 😢😢 -> user325 sorry Danny -> danielricciardo 😒🫶

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yn.horner having matching plushies always helps me feel better when i'm away from home

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oscarpiastri what names have you chosen for yours? assuming that whoever they match with has named theirs -> yn.horner their names are confidential i'm afraid -> oscarpiastri boooooo no fun :(

user549 wish my boyfriend did this for me -> user550 babe, we're literally on our way to go buy jellycats -> user549 ok and???

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if you see this, know that you WILL be getting the next update after the Imola GP i promise.

I've been in a really odd spot in my life where I haven't been very motivated to do any writing (or even just creating in general) for long burst of time, which means that any requests I have been sent previously have been sitting in my drafts half finished because I cannot for the life of me find any inspiration to write anything.

I count myself lucky that I had enough motivation and energy to start pre-planning for the rest of this series. If you take a look at the series masterlist you'll notice that there are numbers next to the current chapters and beyond. I've decided that the entire series is going to be 14 chapters in total with a bonus chapter for Oscar and Y/n's shenanigans at the end of the 2024 season.

I can't thank everyone enough for being so incredibly patient with me as I try to work through this writing slump. Slowly but surely I will start uploading fic reqs again

-- Embrose xx

[allforhee]

*ੈ✩ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. (BLURB) | SIM JAEYUN

୨୧ pairing — idol!jake x fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — being jake's gf, you normally tag along everywhere. every concert, every fansign, every soundcheck. but with a heavy heart, jake has to attend another fansign without you. little does he know, you're in line with the other engenes ready to give him a little surprise.

୨୧ genre — fluff, cute coupley stuff, pouty jake

୨୧ warnings — trying not to show pda, suggestiveness, written on my phone so not proofread

୨୧ word count — 1,059 words (not proofread)

୨୧ author's note — hiya lovies! so sorry for the hiatus as i was going through a pretty bad of a burnout, and had little to no inspiration to write. but finally i had time to strike up a bit of inspiration to write this fic!! hope u all enjoy a bit of jake fluff :)

“right this way, ma'am.”

as you were escorted into the venue, your heart was beating out of your chest. unlike every other concert or fansign you’d attend, you’d normally be wearing a staff name-tag with access to backstage. but here you were, hand clasping an engenebong, a vip lanyard on, clad in jake’s favorite colors.

in your other hand was a small sign that read “sim jaeyun, send a flying kiss!”

sitting alongside with the other engenes, your plan ready to be set in action.

a few days prior, jake had initially invited you to the fansign, but you declined with an excuse that you had uni homework due.

“darling, i have a fansign in a couple days, you’ll be there right?” jake asks, as he sits on your couch, snacking on popcorn as you cook dinner.

“this saturday right?” you ask, thinking of what plans you have then. but then you remember. “i don’t think i’ll make it yunie, my professor wants to have a quiz for extra marks. i’m sorry my love.” you confess, turning off the stove before coming over to him and giving him a pat on the head as he pouts.

“really? can’t you just miss a couple marks?” jake begs, still pouting.

“i’m so sorry ikeu, i’ll have to miss out on this one. i’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” you try to reason with him.

jake gives a slight nod as he opens his arms to invite you into a hug, which you accept.

that was a few days ago. you found out your professor had moved the quiz a day earlier, which meant you had the whole day for the fansign. as you were thinking of a way to tell jake, an idea popped into your head.

you picked up your phone and dialed jungwon’s number, as you explained to him your idea.

he managed to snag you a last minute vip fansign ticket, where you are now.

with you and jake’s relationship not out in the open yet, you weren’t expecting anyone to notice you, other than the members. you were more scared on how jake would react to your surprise, rather than the fans.

as your hands pick on your cuticles (by habit), the members came onto stage. with jungwon leading the way and immediately spotting you, followed by a couple others like jay, heeseung, and sunoo. jake on the other hand, seemed out of the moment, but he was trying his best to hide his sad facade.

sunghoon and ni-ki were trying to cheer him up, before sunghoon took a glance in the crowd and saw you in the second row, holding your sign. he gave a knowing smile, as he signaled to ni-ki to look at where he was looking. he immediately spotted you as well.

as the members gave their opening greetings and interacted with the fans for a while, they sat down as the fansign begun.

the fans started making their way, and as you were in the second row, you had to wait a while to talk to the members.

you had one minute with each member, and jake being the last member, you had enough time to calm your nerves.

as your queue number was called out, you sprayed the last bit of perfume, before walking over to the first member, jungwon.

he gave you a high five and a wink, signifying that your plan went really well, “noona! you made it! did my ticket work?” he asked.

“well i’m here so yes it worked! i’m so excited but anxious to see jake though.” you sighed.

jungwon gave a smile as he was signing your album, before the staff had to escort you to the next member.

heeseung gives you a smile as he laughs at what you’ve done.

“you know, jake has been whining on and on about you not coming to today’s signing.” he laughs.

you giggle at his statement, “has he? well i’m as excited to surprise him today.”

heeseung smiles at you before signing a little smiley face at your album, and the staff calls you to move to the next seat.

as you move through the next members, jay, sunoo, ni-ki, with similar responses, as you were finally arriving at sunghoon, you were scared jake was gonna notice you.

sunghoon saw you and immediately gave a smile, knowing your plan. although jake was sitting next to him, he was too enthralled with keeping his mood up to notice you.

as sunghoon was signing your album, you whispered, “hoon, what should i say to him?”

sunghoon smiled and said, “just be yourself, you’re his girlfriend after all.” as your time ran out and you stood up.

the second you sat on that seat, you opened your mouth and asked “so, do you like holding all those girls’ hands?” as you lift up your right hand.

jake lifted his head up from signing your album, eyes slowly widening as he realizes who’s sitting in front of him.

“darling? is that you?” he asked, his voice nervous.

“yes yunie,” you assure him as you take of your mask, “it’s me.”

he takes your hand in his, as he puts it on his cheek, feeling your touch.

you laugh at the cute interaction, smiling the whole time.

“but you said you wouldn’t make it?” jake asks, his pout disappearing and a light blush taking its place.

“i have my ways.” you hint at him.

as you two were holding hands as jake was signing a heart on your album, the staff signaled that time was up, and that you had to return to your seat.

jake held your hand one last time, before he tugged you and whispered in your ear, “meet me after this, okay?” he winks, before letting you go.

you smile to yourself on the way back to your seat, as a couple fangirls call out to you, as you hear some things like;

“girl did he hold your hand the entire session?”

“no way what did he whisper to you?”

“how are you not fainting right now? are you okay?”

you walk past them ask you put your mask on, and sit down lifting up your sign.

jake immediately spots you and your sign, before throwing a flying kiss. you really were his number one supporter.

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© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[justagirlandhersims]

VINTAGE HORROR MOVIE POSTERS

To celebrate the opening of the newly restored Crow's Nest Theater, The Ravenwood Film Society is proud to present limited edition vintage movie posters. The posters are a nod to the new theater's concentration on horror, thriller and suspense films.

Join us for the grand opening on November 6, hosted by new owner Dante Blackwood and his wife, tarot card historian and medium Journee Delacroix. Snag a few (or all) of these lovely posters, get a reading from Journee herself and learn more about the upcoming Ravenwood Film Festival!

Details (including preview pictures) and download link under the cut.

DOWNLOAD HERE

I placed a buyable cinema in my game using Tank's It's Movie Time and Sims Tycoon mods. To keep in theme with the new world, I decided to make it a vintage horror movie theater. I wanted a particular look and feel for the movie posters, so I made my own! It's a bit late for Simblreen but I'm sure there are movie and horror buffs who'd love to add them to their game.

Base game compatible

Original mesh by black-le (included)

DX-11 compliant

16 total swatches (not all are pictured above)

Yes there are two The Bride of Frankenstein swatches. I really like that film and almost added even more.

Did I decide to release them on election day because it can turn into a living horror movie? Yes, yes I did.

The prints embiggen nicely, so they are easy to customize to all your decorating needs.

I used the Luminescent gshade preset in the preview photos but it only brightens the prints a smidge.

DO NOT 

Put these prints behind a paywall of any kind (this includes using them in paywalled builds)

Reupload them elsewhere 

Claim them as your own

If you run into any issues when you place them in-game, please DM me. Feel free to tag me if you use them!

[bayeis]

I've joked about it in the tags a lot but I've decided to sit down and actually compile a list on why I'm only half joking when I say my job is conditioning me to be the next Jonathan Sims

The Buried: A lot of my job involves putting people in small confined spaces, often with no windows and and a single, locked door. We frequently have people with claustrophobia that realize agreeing to be locked in a small space means being locked in a small space. 9.9/10 times they are peer pressured into doing it anyway, and have a miserable time

The Corruption:

The Building is rotting. There is no nice way to put this. The walls are slick with mold and soft to the touch, the ceiling drips despite us being on the ground floor of a two story building, the carpets squish with unknown water, and yet people's eyes just glaze past it. Our landlord for the building is a thick accent russian man who, for the past 4 years I've worked here, has changed his name on the emails several times, despite it undoubtedly being the same man, who I have met in the flesh twice before. The first time was to come into the building, shake my hand, and leave. The second time was to ask me to bring him upstairs (not apart of our business but we still have the key for some reason), which I did, and then have not seen him since. Speaking of upstairs, the handful of times I've been there it's just. Bizarre. An entirely furnished office space, completely abandoned. There's everything from paintings on the walls to files still in the cabinets and scattered across desks. I could not tell you what the office space used to be, or whatever the employees that worked there used to do, but I do know it was officially, genuinely abandoned because it was deemed unsafe to be in, from the sheer amount mold and rot. How it is somehow safe for us to work directly below with leaking ceilings I have no idea. I've occasionally had to dart up there with our key to snag a pair of scissors off one of the desks or some other office supply we can't locate in our own half, though I always disinfect them the second I bring them downstairs, and always wear a mask when I'm up there. There's also the bugs. I am so genuinely serious when I say one day I swept the lobby of our building and discovered the shelled corpses of around 300 dead superworms. Like the kind you would feed a pet lizard. I have no idea why they were there, how they got there, or anything. I just swept them up and disposed of them as my coworker watched in horror. Weird worm sightings aside, the building is frequently swarmed both in and outside with bugs, despite weekly exterminator visits. The stairwell to the second floor (located outside) spends about half the year covered in what has to be hundreds if not thousands of moth caterpillars and cocoons. Walking in that back porch area is near impossible as you cannot look anywhere without seeing the walls, floors, stairs, doors all bumpy and withering with the sheer amount of caterpillars (of the not so friendly verity as well. They feel like shattered glass to the touch and will frequently leave a rash). My old manager once found one in her ear. There. Are. Bugs. Everywhere.

The Dark:

Fairly self explanatory. The building gets zero light. The lobby has full glass doors, and walls of windows facing multiple directions but no matter how many blinds you open or what time of day it is you'll find your eyes slightly straining in the just slightly too dim setting. It's never bright enough. When we can get our lights to work (frequently blow out, and when they are attempted to be replaced we find that nearly every light fixture required a different kind of special bulb, meaning that to fix it requires hunting down that kind of random bulb, which will be different from all the others. An effort frequently left undone, dotting the building with random spots of shadows) they don't really help, not because they aren't bright enough, but because the building was designed with weird corners, so all the light the fixtures could be potentially giving, is almost immediately blocked out with odd shaped walls and randomized corners. Some rooms just don't have windows to even attempt to sap out some of the sunlight. The room the employees are made to sit in (about an 8ft by 8ft room) for the majority has no overhead lights, no windows, and like the rest of the building, the walls are painted solid black to sap any remaining light out. The only way you can see in there is from the glow of the monitors and two dim lamps shoved in opposite corners. We get complaints from customers that it's too dark and they can't see well, and we've tried everything to fix it, a desperate combination of lamps LEDs, and fairy lights, but no matter how hard we try, how many blinds we throw open, it's never bright enough.

The Eye:

Remember that employee room I mentioned with the monitors? Workers are instructed to sit in the room (control room) and watch their designated cameras. This is not a security job. Off the top of my head, our (relatively small building floor) has about 30 cameras. There is no where in the building you can be that doesn't have a camera. Even the control room has a camera so we can watch the employees watching people. Some of the cameras are on (all the cameras are always on, with the only way to shut them off being to physically rip them from the walls) but we have yet to find out how to access their feed. The cameras like to frequently switch, in that I mean their security codes, IPs, and registration numbers will jump and switch with each other to no rhyme or reason. When that happens I have to grab the notebook dedicated to writing down whatever this weeks IP numbers are and attempt to metaphorically shove the cameras back into place. We are not a security job, but we are, if you didn't know or guess, an escape room. The entire job, as I previously mentioned, is to sit and watch people freak out through the cameras. Everywhere a guest turns if they look up, there is a camera. Every word they say is recorded and logged. Every action they take is carefully judged. All while a worker sits in a completely dark room, all day, watching their designated cameras intently. I think, for the sheer inherentness of what this business does and advertises, we are the most closely working with the eye. I am one of the managers now, and there are even cameras pointed and trained at where I sit, even thought there shouldn't be anyone to watch them.

The Lonely:

This one applies less to our customers and more to the poor employees. This job is soul crushing. You can go an entire shift, sitting alone in a small dark room, watching people have fun, as you silently observe. I have thankfully graduated out of the control room into front desk, and yet I can go entire days not seeing a soul, watching people chattering as they enter and exit our neighboring buildings through windows that never seem to catch the sun. The "employee area" where we are supposed to be able to hang out in between games isn't really built for socializing. It has been overcrowded and shoved with chairs, so many fucking chairs, that it becomes near intimidating to try and navigate. The most use the room sees is when an employee shoves some of them together and takes a nap, because there is nothing to do. It's not like the employees don't like each other either, we all get along wonderfully for the most part, as well as coworkers relatively around the same age can (helps that we're all queer too), but once you're halfway through a shift, and absolutely nothing of interest has happened you start to drift. A typical lull between games (which can stretch for days in the off season) will usually result in me sitting alone at front desk, answering an occasional ghost call that hangs up immediately when I answer it, an employee sitting in the back area, surrounded by empty chairs facing the graveyard where we write old employees names, and another employee choosing to nest down in the control room, in the dark surrounded by monitors reflecting myself and the other worker being alone, angles scattered across the dozens of cameras. Even when we are busy, there's almost no time to socialize. I still sit alone at a front desk made for two, mindlessly checking people in with no altercation to the script, and the game hosts focus on their game, crammed into the control room with several other game hosts, all willingly silent as they watch whatever designated family they have through their cameras.

The Spiral:

Again, we are an escape room. The whole appeal is to present ourselves as confusing as possible. From room layouts, to our hallways, to the way the building wraps and twists, dumping people out at one door, opposite of where they just entered from, it is designed to drive people crazy. Honestly we don't help either. For our own entertainment, game hosts are particularly obtuse and confusing, partially because we don't want you to get out too early and partially because we have been watching the exact same thing over and over and over and it's starting to drive us a little crazy. People always do the exact same thing in the rooms, there's very little variation from the jokes made the to ideas brought forward. So if the game host wants to keep a little sanity, it's up to them to reek havoc on their game in hopes of startling out a new response, which, if one does occur, gets snapped up and thrown around the control room to the other employees for a slice of entertainment like a sliver of meat thrown to a starving pack of dogs.

The Stranger:

The doll room. Not a traditional "the stranger" kind of presentation, but gives that same prickling unnerving feeling.

In the exact center of the building layout there is a tiny room that is decked in as many old porcelain dolls as possible, all strung up from their necks and twisting around gently in non existent wind. Walking past the only physical door into the enclosed room, you'll usually hear the door rattling in it's frame, or one of the dolls knocking against the door. The room has no vents, no fans, no overhead lights. It's only light source is two red light bulbs, and the room was custom built by our owners. And like, I get it. It's an escape room. There's a creepy room. 1 + 1 equals 2. I cannot even being to describe the feeling this room gives or brings. Almost every time there is a group in there, one person in the group will become more unnerved then the rest, because one of the dozen of dolls looks uncomfortably similar to a doll they or a family member had as a child. The doll will sway on it's string noose as the cameras pick up the trickle of "doesn't that one look just like grandmas doll?" "this one kinda looks like my Betsy doesn't it?" with a chorus of agreements and half given glances, as the rest of the group gets absorbed with the next puzzle, and the single member who brought it up stares, and eventually leaves the room, typically not reentering the rest of the game. It is the strangest thing to watch (no pun intended). Occasionally, the similarity is met with delight, but more often then not it just seems to unnerve. The doll room also shares a wall with the control room, which means nothing, but is occasionally fun to kick.

The Web:

There's the obvious ones, our rooms are meant to trap people, the game hosts jobs besides watching the cameras is to manipulate the line of thinking the customers have, ect, ect. The most unnatural thing to note here isn't the standard workings of an escape room however, but the sheer vast amount of spiders in this goddamn building. I have never seen so many spiders in my life. We can't shake them. From how disgustingly rotted our building is at this point I think the spiderwebs are one of the only things keeping our building together. Again, we have an exterminator come by every single week both in and out of the building. The spiders refuse to let up, every day is a constant battle of knocking down their webs only to turn around and see they've put several more up. We've all but given up on trying to get them out of the employee only areas and now focus our war to the battle grounds of where customers can see to only mild success. This isn't even a regional or habitat thing, no other building I have lived or stayed in in this town has ever even come close to touching the spider infestation happening here.

In terms of other entities such as the Hunt, Slaughter, and Desolation, I can think of a handful of things that might align my job and them, but nothing solid enough that's worth mentioning. There has not yet been anything that reminds me of the End, Vast, or Extinction.

Other things to note,

Quitting is weird? People do, don't worry it's not a genuine hostage situation, but once they leave they are very rarely every sighted by coworkers again. I don't just mean not visiting the building, I mean like going completely off the grid and moving states if not in some cases countries. The entire time this business has been open and operable I've been the longest standing employee, at a record 4 years of the 7 it's been open. I could not name a single employee that has ever truly quit and has been easy to contact again by anyone. If you are able to, it's usually polite conversation with any mention of how you know each other (meeting at the job) being laughed and shut down quickly. No one whose left this place wants to talk about it and I get it, believe me. When we get an influx of summer employees to help with the rush the heat brings, I'm no longer allowed to help train because I would try warn the employees to pace themselves so they didn't experience Game Host Death too early (what we call when a game hosts snaps, having watched the same thing over and over and eventually loosing their mind over it, resulting in crying when told they have to run a game, weird twitching/manic-esque break downs, or in some memorable cases, game hosts just walking out in the middle of hosting a game). This is incredibly ironic considering the majority of employees have admitted the only reason they stick around is because they like working with me but I'm not here to toot my horn. There's also a large collection of employees who are neither employeed nor not, who have moved an hour or so away and have gotten a different, closer, better paying, and enjoyable job, and yet inexplicable will show up once in a blue moon asking for a shift at the escape room for no other reason then they felt compelled to. Typically anyone whose worked here for more then a season falls in this category. Currently we have four official employees for the off season (including myself) and yet if I count this stragglers who all genuinely hate this job (also including myself) our employee numbers easily go over 20. I cannot even imagine what the owners taxes look like for that (all paychecks and stubs are handled by a women who I have only ever emailed and never met). The owners themselves actually don't even live in the same state as us, and we are not apart of a chain. This is the only escape room they own. They're main business? Sheep farming. Which actually, that might be the slaughter right there. Despite working for them for so long, the amount of times I have met them can be counted on one hand. They are completely uninvolved, this business is no mans land. I've thought about quitting multiple times, even briefly lived in another city states away, and yet still found myself back, inexplicably every time I think about leaving again a nice little bonus or raise hits my paycheck, a system I can't really complain about. As for the other managers, I've outlasted several. The only way I have ever seen anyone on the management team leave is to have the biggest mental breakdown known to man and disappear. That's literally it. I've watched it happen so many times. The only employee that came close to being here as long as me was my original manager, who, a couple of months before she left, started loosing her mind, twitchy, paranoid, at her wits end. She isolated and locked herself in one of the rooms for about a month, only emerging at the end of the shift. I tried to approach her once about it and she shaved her head as a panic response. This fucking job, it was choking her from the inside out. Eventually she couldn't handle it and left, effective almost immediately. In the span of a month I watched several new managers cycle in and out, from the women who would sit behind me and silently cry, to a previous employee who realized the jail cell of a role she was being forced into an dipped before the owners could lock the door on her. The current manager is the ex fiancee of the women who locked herself in a room for a month. The horrors are a cycle fr

[voidcat-senket]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JEDI SURVIVOR!

Please enjoy a collection of Cal Kestis/Bode Akuna fanworks to celebrate! Find the AO3 collection here!

tear down the planet for the hype

FIC AND ART | 4.8k | Teen and Up

“only my friends can call me by it. well, and my masters.” kestis shrugged before stepping back to sit on a stool that seemed randomly in the middle of the room. “but, we are engaged, it would be pretty weird if you were calling me by kestis.” “if it helps, my name is bode,” the jedi shadow said as he stepped forward, holding his hand out for kestis to take if he so inclined. “calling me knight akuna would be too formal for a marriage, whether or not it’s political, and—well who knows, maybe we can become friends?” [jedi shadow bode is given a mission that will end the war—marry sith prince darth kestis. that is, if he survives the first meeting.]

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Order 66 Didn't Happen, Arranged Marriage, Jedi Shadow Bode Akuna, Sith Cal Kestis, First Meetings, Marriage Contracts, Negotiations, Bode Akuna is a Mess, Fluff and Humor, Pre-Relationship, Stewjoni Cal Kestis

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE

Paper and Stone

ART AND FIC | 7.4k | Teen and Up | includes Bode/Tayala

Cal goes to Nova Garon to confront Bode, but he finds the man's quarters full of echoes that show him a side of Bode Cal never thought he'd see.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Psychometry | Force Echo (Star Wars), Cal goes to Nova Garon but finds more than he expects, echoes upon echoes upon echoes, SpyScrapper, if you wanted more of Bode and Tayala's relationship here you go

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE (and a secret bonus here~)

love is death, love is dying; love is steel, a silver lining

FIC | .5k | Teen and Up

Cal is wary of the blaster Bode has given him. Bode teaches him some basic gun safety.

Tags: Guns, Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Maybe - Freeform, You Decide, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Missing Scene, Implied Relationships, Angst

Second Date! An Ode to Visual Novels

VIDEO | 1hr | Teen and Up

Tags: visual novel, time travel fix-it, time loop, simulated dating sim, Bode POV

fire still burns in a vacuum

FIC | 1.6k | Teen and Up

It's been a year and Cal returns to the observatory for the first time. He hadn't expected someone else to do the same.

Tags: Grief/Mourning, Character Study, Relationship Study, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Author Welcomes All Interpretations, This Is a Study On Cal's Grief With a Twist at the End, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Dark Themes

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE

Roots in Place of my Heart

8.8k | Mature | includes Bode/Tayala

When Bode saw the date, he had to swallow down a mix of blood and bile. There’s something growing in Bode’s chest, filling out the space that was left vacated when Tayala died and took his heart with her. They say the only cure to grief is life. Or death.

Tags: Hanahaki Disease with my own twist on it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Body Horror, Love Confessions, Pretending you’re fine even though you’re very much not, Grief/Mourning

Lights Glow in your Wake

FIC | 5.4k | Teen and Up

Cal gives Bode a gift for their anniversary. The trouble is- their anniversary isn't for another three weeks, Bode is sure of it.

Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Planet Tanalorr, POV Bode Akuna, POV Third Person Limited, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Jedi Culture & Customs

Blue Skies Over Bad Lands

FIC | 18.6k | Mature

Bode looks up and Cal’s gaze snags his immediately, drawing him in. The rebel Jedi is a remarkable combination of wariness and vulnerability, like no matter how hard Cal tries to steel himself against the pain, his grief and longing and love are too strong, too pure to be contained. They shine through the cracks like a ray of blazing light. (Or: Bode and Cal fall in love. It complicates things.)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Mild Sexual Content, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Pining, Confessions, Secret Identity Fail, Canon Rewriteish, Cal Kestis is a Force of Nature and Bode couldn't get off this ride even if he wanted to, They're In Love Your Honor

I Don't Wanna Say No to This

FIC | 4.1k | Teen and Up

Bode is not actually looking for Cal Kestis when he trips over him on his way out of the bar. He’s looking for work, actually— he needs to fix up the ancient freighter he’d wound up buying for Kata and himself, that first awful week after finding Tanalorr and feeling it clutching at him in the Force, the planet a near-sentient thing, clawing, greedy… He shakes off the sensation, hopes it’s only a memory, and looks down at Kestis. He’s unconscious, his face a single bruise, and there are four beings surrounding them. None of them look like anyone he’d leave alone in an alley with anyone, even someone who most likely wants him very dead.

Tags: Bittersweet, Angst, Miscommunication, Reunions, Forgiveness, Rescue, Implied/Referenced Slavery, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Bode was not ready to face his past, Cal's not emotionally capable of facing his past, Together they make like one entire functioning person, Past Relationship(s), Established Relationship

FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE

a soft place to land

FIC | 3.8k | Mature

A hot day on Koboh leads to a shared shower and a realization - sometimes it's nice to be taken care of.

Tags: Smitten Bode Akuna, Bode Akuna Lives, Hair Washing, Making Out, i still don't know how to tag these things, Fluff and Mush, Near-Human Cal Kestis, Again, sharp teeth sharp teeth sharp teeth, Body Worship, Smitten Cal Kestis, Soft Cal Kestis, POV Bode Akuna, soft intimacy, Light Angst, showering together, Not Canon Compliant, Post-game, We call this "fluid dynamics" with the way Cal and Bode keep switching

[golem-boy]

DevLog 02: I'd Rather Be Writing CSS

Hello again! This month's DevLog post is going to be a lot of fun. I'm going to talk a little about my endeavors with Neocities, writing code, and working with old-school web interaction.

I also wanted to make a note that I'm totally cool with folks reblogging and liking these posts, and you're welcome to snag the rss feed for this tag if you'd like to keep up with it but don't particularly feel like wading through everything else I drop here.

Without further ado--

Lately I've been working on a side project to help a friend out; their Neocities, is--like mine--going to be a place to host a ton of centralized information so they can just hand site links out rather than having to link a whole array of webpages to people in order to share certain stuff. (I totally recommend people do this, btw. Super useful, AND you get to learn html/css, which is great on a site like Tumblr, where you can employ that knowledge and skillset elsewhere!)

Thing is, when I started this, I'd been... a touch rusty on things like... you know, the basics, building from a blank space up into a proper site. One of my problems was accidentally adding a period before the 'body' stylization code in the css document, which, for those wondering, makes the css read it as a 'div' or 'span' tag, rather than a core component of the site. Rookie mistake, but I did manage to figure it out... by making links turn orange on hover!

How, you may ask? It confirmed that the style from the css was successfully applying to the barebones html I'd already written, and gave me a better idea of what exactly was going wrong. Never discount the odd ways of troubleshooting, tbh.

I've also made a huge leap of progress on my own site, specifically the gallery pages, though they are DEFINITELY still works in progress, namely in layout. I've had to expand my understanding a litle and read up on stuff like flex boxes, which I might expand on and cover in my next DevLog as I make more progress.

I also started sketching some ideas with a friend out for a sort of idle colony sim--I don't want to spoil too much, but our shared notes are preeetty exciting so far!

On the topic of games, Garry's Mod is kind of a wreck on linux. I managed to get it going fine with Proton 9.x, which is hilarious--it straight up does not run anymore on the native build. No idea what got broken, but it sure is Something to behold, hah. I have been wading through my subscribed items, trying to update some of the tools and utilities. One of these days I'll get my shit figured out and upload a UT99 playstation-port Xan... I already have a lot of plans for such a thing, of course.

I have been honing my skills with blender, especially rigging, which has been interesting. I definitely GET it, it's just a matter of synthesizing and memorizing parts of the control scheme and especially how to fiddle with things like shapekeys. The perk of ragdoll stuff is you don't need a ton of picky shit... phew! Getting ahead of myself a bit there.

This month has been super busy, and I've been a bit scatterbrained, but here's to another month of progress, eh?

first | archive | next

[flustersnaggle]

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO THIS GUY IS

i've never played your turn to die so i don't know who this guy is beyond the fact he apparently Sucks Ass™. one of my mutuals likes this guy though and xe held me at gunpoint to make this

[mypralaya]

Who would you be in a dating sim? The childhood best friend who's been in love with the main character their whole life You're a loyal person to the core, and probably a hopeless romantic as well. You're full of love for those you care about, and that's both your biggest strenght and weakness. You would do anything for them, even if it means hurting your own feelings. You will hide all your pain and your needs as longs as that means the rest gets to be happy. You biggest struggle is to clearly communicate your feelings, and you'll always try to avoid those conversations or pretend everything is fine (when it isn't). Remember you deserve to receive the same love you give. snagged from @envychosen  tagging anyone

[ashtxrie]

thank you 2 @star-sim and @lilacnini for the tag(s)!! ily <3

just a little bit : enhypen — my #1 favorite enha song if i was absolutely forced to choose one. everything about this song is perfect and me personally i think it’s so underrated!! if someone told me they loved this song i would trust them with my life. i also accidentally looped this song all night while i slept on not one but two occasions, so it’s safe to say that it’ll dominate my spotify top lifetime tracks list forever.

nouvelle vague : wave to earth — the vibes are hitting with this one. played this song while grinding under journalism story draft deadlines; 10/10 would recommend.

what makes you beautiful (enha cover) : enhypen — repeated it for a solid 3 hours the day it came out just to relive my 2012 childhood. jungwon said “don’t need makeup to cover up” and suddenly my skin was cleared my crops were watered and i won 5 nobel prizes. lives were changed.

our summer : tomorrow x together — my fav txt song tied with wishlist and ghosting… this song is such a sunshine dopamine boost and i am so ready for summer to begin w this one (after making it out alive from ap exam season)

love fire : cravity — i heard this song while in a kpop store to buy my enha lightstick and the music video was playing on the overhead tv screen... it was near the end of the song so i didn't get to shazam it in time so i went home and went through every song with the lyrics "i like it like that" to find it. definitely worth it.

unplugged boy : tws — their music is so good trust me on this. this song and plot twist was integral on the days i had to climb up the stairs to get to my history class.

go big or go home : enhypen — oh my god so for the spring rally our school's hiphop dance group danced to gbogh in front of the entire school population... my friend in hiphop told me abt it ahead of time so i snagged first row bleacher seats just to yell every lyric during the 30-second interval they danced to the chorus. one person in my physics class told me after the rally that he "didn't know i had it in me to transform from being a nerd like that" (what does he mean by that...)

easy : le sserafim — queens dropped another banger ofc i had to listen to it over and over again... the choreo for this too omg i'm obsessed

sweet venom (english ver.) : enhypen — "i'll never be the same" yeah that's me ever since november 17 because i have to listen to this song at least 1x daily in order to have sufficient oxygen circulation in my body. i will never get over sunoo's "and if it kills me, i still want you; it's torture / your touch is chemical" like i remember my jaw dropping the first time i heard it and i had to rewind just to hear it again because YO...

lovesong : beabadoobee — i love all her music sm but "i missed the train again, i called your name / as if you'd drive it back" made me figuratively fall to my knees in the middle of mcdonalds bawling in melancholy

tagging : @enwonz @bywons @stariikis @boyfiejay + anyone else who wants to join!

! "10 on repeat shuffles" tag game !

rules: shuffle your on repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people

tagged by: no one but started by @galaxycunt when i saw the post on my dashboard. thank u hellsite algorithm~

will include a little excerpt of explanation on why it could be in my on-repeat playlist + not include an artist repeat

obstacles - syd matters (last song from the sub homesick alien playlist + notable time wave vibe songs cause it is also in the life is strange game)

tinnitus - txt (part of my audiophiles' eargasm playlist where i wanna hear a godly-produced song with my best headphones)

duvet - boa (i think it has been in my on repeat since 2021 when i watched serial experiments lain and has never left. a notable song for terra incognita)

this is why - paramore (just heard the whole album last month and every time i listen to this song, i'm in a state of catharsis cause I CAN RELATE)

tom sawyer - rush (having been particularly obsessed with the iron claw movie, this song is stuck in my head and i swear i love prog rock even more + i'll be learning the bass line of this song hopefully)

euphor - novo amor, lowswimmer (heard this for the novo amor concert i went to last week (even though they didn't perform it). part of the beomgyu time wave's spinoff playlist)

solsbury hill - peter gabriel (another addition to my audiophiles' eargasm playlist cause it sounds so odd that it's so interesting)

weird fishes/arpeggi - radiohead (the song that embodies me as a person + have been putting it on repeat during my bday because it's the day that i just embraced my self of being a pisces which includes hearing this playing in the car and a solo date to the aquarium)

follow you follow me - genesis (the song that reminds me of soobin idk why. it's also in my sub homesick alien playlist)

do hot girls like chords? - knower (heard this from micthesnare and it's my introduction to indietronica and jazz-funk (cause i've already know acid jazz from jamiroquai)

tagging: (based on the last 10 moots that show up on my dash) @boba-beom @stardragongalaxy @lovejoshua @txt-yaomi @euphor1a @junniieesbby @itz-yerin @pyeonghongrie @dido-of-the-endless @robin-obsessed and anyone who wants to join! (new songs to listen to yes pls)

[tiabwwtws-art]

Traditional art as I relisten to season one and try to get out of an art slump

[simgerale]

a sim dump: coming to a simblr near you

[disasterghaster-moved]

"Hm, Vox." Repeated to herself. It was a unique name. She liked words. "Talkative?" Couldn't help asking.

While he was ordering, her phone pinged a notification and she took it out. She didn't let her expression do anything interesting or even give a scowl, but she dismantled her phone without unlocking it. Separating memory, sim card, and battery in a deft series of motions. She didn't deduce why the PN (Paranoia Network) program on her phone sent a 'dismantle' notification, but she also didn't question it. Snapped the phone in half while she was at it before dropping all parts back into her coat pocket.

There was still some information to glean. Aside from the PN app, she had a few unprotected game apps like HayDay and Pokemon Home. Solitaire. Most of her texts were protected by the PN along with her emails and other vulnerable personal accounts. Her contacts were not as protected, but that was because she kept everyone in there as nicknames.

He may, however, be able to number match some if he had matching numbers of his own. Like Lucifer's was in there as 'cranky shades'. Otherwise it was unhelpful names like 'smoochy lizard' and 'doctor sticklegs'. Lucifer was business, she apparently moonlit as a delivery person for him when she was bored. Smoochy lizard and sticklegs got amorous and friendly texts. Many of the others were talks about places, times, and money transactions that weren't very descriptive--and were a bit old. A small handful had the tag 'Patch's' with questions about payroll and tips and work schedules.

If he could read RFID signals he might be able to snag into her bank account as she took out debit card to pay after she ordered herself some nuggets and a quarter pounder with a large coke.

"And, um, cards." She ended up thinking about Roka. They didn't talk and weren't close, but she found herself feeling protective from a distance. She cold put them in her mail box and keep that way pretty easy. "A pack, thanks." And paid. After getting the receipt she moved them to the side to wait for their number to get called. "Glad you got a big mac, was going to force one on you. Wasn't sure you've had one before."

Vox's lip curled up into a half snarl at the elbow to his ribs, but was eventually placated enough at the offer of free food. Of course he could pay for it himself - easy enough to hack someone's bank account and transfer it right over to his phone if he couldn't tranfer hell-money to currency on Earth. But who was he to pass on something free?

"Vox," he replied in kind, tugging a bit on his lapels to further adjust them. He wouldn't need to ask around about this Devang, though, as he delved his digital mind into any electronics she may possess at present. Subtle about it as he was staring up at the menu screen. "I'll take you up on that, then. Be ungentlemanly if I didn't."

So many options. He didn't know where to start, really. But he eventually settled on a Big Mac meal and a chocolate milkshake. Because fuck you that's why. He'd also lean into the clerk, eyes narrowed. "And a pack of pokemon cards." "A-anything else, sir?"

"Nope, that's it." He beamed then, all smiles.

[mosneakers]

Get to know momo? If u want

Thank you @rebouks for tagging me! You know already know these answers will be boring but I haven't done one in a long time so here we gooo

Last song: Andromeda- Weyes Blood 🪐 Last Show: Literally don't remember? I love TV but haven't had a chance to watch it in who knows how long. 😅 Maybe Fear the Walking Dead? Didn't finish it though hahaaa Currently Watching: Trash Tuesday podcast on youtube. I watch a lot of podcasts while working 😊 Currently Reading: sims stories, otherwise nothing? Your girl has no time and I don't remember the last time I finished a whole book lol Current Obsession:

pictures snagged from this post Ummm... these two? Right? Like not just the navigator/mermaid AU version of them but their entire relationship in general. CORALCHO was literally never meant to happen but these two sims from two different storylines found each other and completely wrecked the entire course of the story and turned it into something different. I keep trying to keep them apart by giving them these heartbreaking storylines but they're just drawn to one another. and it sounds ridiculous and crazy because they're just pixels but like they're so stupidly in love with each other and it's so endearing and mildly gross and so cute but UGH so yeh, obsessed 😆

I wanna tag some simmers who enable and share my obsessions and are nice to me real often and some who have maybe liked a post of mine probably like once but I still appreciate: @whyhellosims @simsstuph @pixel-bloom @treason-and-plot @sim4areason @berrysweetboutique @queeniecook @plumbponette @simcatcher @simmersofia @aleksa-sims @cinamun @wlwsims4 @lre333 @simadelics and I wanna tag more but my hands are too cold to type right now? Sorry I'm broken✨

[lightsovermonaco]

Till Death Do Us Part: Chapter 12

Masterlist

This story would not be possible without @limp-wrist-max who inspired me to write this in the first place and @acollectionofficsandshit who helped me come up with the storyline and is the best beta a girl could ask for, thanks you two!

Word Count: 9.0k

"Learn how to drive, will you fuckface?"

"Tell that to yourself- ah! See, even that Williams is faster than you. Pick it up!"

Your laugh comes from between Pierre's spread knees. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you beam up at him, the book open on your lap momentarily forgotten. 

"You hush," Pierre says, focused on the split screen. You settle in with your back against the couch, feet tucked under you and your shoulder pressed to Pierre's knee. 

"Yes!" Charles jumps up, holding his controller triumphantly over his head. "P2 in a Ferrari. Beat that!"

"I hate this game," Pierre grumbles, crossing the like sixth in his AlphaTauri. He'd wanted the Mercedes, but you had laid eyes on the navy and white livery and fallen in love with it and as always, Pierre was unable to deny himself the chance to see you smile.

"Aw baby," you croon, reaching to pat his thigh, "you did just fine. Play again, it's fun to watch."

"Is it?" Pierre perks up, leaning over your shoulder to meet your eyes. You laugh, probably at the fact that he's currently upside down and looks like a fool, but whatever. "I'll buy you a sim setup if you wanna try it yourself. With a real wheel and pedals and stuff."

You shrug, "sure. I'll give it a try."

Pierre kisses your forehead and Charles mimics a gag. "Aren't you two the cutest couple on the face of the planet. Disgusting."

"So sorry that our happiness irks you so." Pierre grins up at his friend, who rolls his eyes that sparkle with flecks of gold. 

"Isn't it the winner that's supposed to get a kiss anyway?" Charles whines.

"I don't recall P2 being a win in the record books," you quip, attention rapt on your book. "Come talk to me when you're on the top step."

"That's enough of that." Pierre scowls at Charles, the gesture lacking the heat that floods through his chest.

"Oh stop it." You lean your head back, landing on the cushions so you can smile up at him. "You know I wouldn't."

Triumph comes in the form of Charles' cry of surprise when Pierre shoves him hard enough to throw him off balance. "Fuck you."

"Not after what happened last time," Charles points out, settling in to go another round on the playstation.

"Hey," you tug on his pant leg and Pierre's somber mood instantly dissolves. You crook a finger at him. "C'mere."

He leans down, face inches from yours. He studies the individual freckles and lines of your face, snagging on the slightly reddened lower lip tugged between your teeth. "Yeah?"

"If you win," you whisper, hand wandering over his inner thigh, "I'll give you a reward that's way better than a kiss."

"Can I get that in writing?" You grin and nod. "Text it to me so I have the evidence."

"Yes, baby. I will. Now pick the good car, not the pretty one."

"I call the Mercedes," Pierre promptly declares, ignoring Charles' squeaked protest and planting a kiss to your lips.

"You can pick the track, crybaby."

The weight of Charles' assessing stare is heavy on Pierre's neck. He ignores it, places the emotional price tag attached to such a gesture inside a chest and shoves it deep inside himself.

"Monza. Good luck, the Merc has shit downforce there."

Pierre enjoys the lazy shapes you draw on his calf while Charles goes through and adjusts the specific game settings. It strikes him then, how light he feels. Nothing dragging him down. Free as a bird, with you cuddled up at his feet and Charles playing a game. It almost feels… normal. Dangerously so.

The moment the virtual track appears on screen, Pierre forgets to be concerned about his happiness. He's focused entirely on the buttons beneath his thumbs, the five lights splashed across the top of the screen.

Pierre gets the jump off the line, like usual, and Charles swears under his breath. Pierre hangs on to the lead for a few laps, getting lost in the long straights and the tight chicanes thoroughly enough that your light poke to his leg startles him.

In the blink of an eye, Pierre goes from comfortably leading the race to staring at a crumpled red and white tire barrier. Charles laughs, passing the wreck in a blur of scarlet.

"I'm sorry," you say, "but your phone is going off. I don't know who it is, otherwise I'd answer it."

Pierre snatches the phone from you and immediately soothes the concern creasing your brow with a thumb.

"What do you want?" Pierre snaps, pissed that he'll have to hear about this from Charles forever.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Pierre's blood goes cold. He hits a button on the remote, the tv screen going black.

"What the fuck-"

Pierre holds a finger to his lips and puts the phone on speaker before setting it on the coffee table.

"Long time no talk," Pierre purrs, slipping into the familiar embrace of his darkness. "What can I do for you, Ramos? Finally come to your senses and decided to fuck off to Peru?"

"Absolutely not, dear friend. In fact, this is something of a courtesy call. I know how fond you are of the people you employ. How you tend to think of them as family, for some unfathomable reason." 

You look frantically between Pierre and Charles. Fear, unchecked and raw, turns your eyes to pools of molten liquid, their usual starscape of beauty reduced to ashen spheres of panic. Pierre stuffs down the instinct to lock all the doors, draw iron curtains over the windows, and tuck you close to his chest.

"Oi, out with it," Charles spits, "cut the shit. What did you do?" Pierre's gratuitous look is answered with a curt nod. Pierre's mind is buzzing a mile a minute. Having Charles there to take the lead, however briefly, gives him time to process.

"Hello there, little traitor. I suppose I should've known you weren't who you said you were, what with the shit intel you fed me for months, despite being a self proclaimed expert."

Pierre interrupts, "If this is just a social call-"

"I forget how impatient you can be, Gasly. Fine. I'll forgo the pomp and circumstance. My condolences about your mechanic. Joe, I think his name was?"

Ice coats Pierre's tongue.

"Shame," Ramos continues, false pity dripping from his lie-stained lips. "Terrible to see him wind up like everyone else you've admired."

"You fucker-" you snatch the phone, hold it close to your teary face. "You fucker! If you hurt him, I'll- I'll-"

Pierre gently pries the droning phone from your hand and snaps it shut. "Charles, call Soren. Go with him to check up on Joe. See if this carries any weight."

"You're just gonna sit here?" You ask, rounding on Pierre. "He was my friend. Your employee. He had a family somewhere, people who cared about him! And you wanna check and see how bad it is before you do anything?"

"Yes," Pierre says softly, evenly. "Because I don't know if this is a trap. Until someone I trust confirms that something is wrong, I'll treat what Ramos said as a lie."

"He could be dying-"

"Which is why Charles is taking the Lamborghini, so he can get there as fast as possible."

Your lip trembles and a tear spills down your cheek. Pierre is numb to the pain of losing family. He's lost enough over the years that all Ramos' words do is stir a vengeful fire inside him. You haven't lost someone, not like this. 

He remembers what it feels like, how hard it hits, like a truck traveling at highway speed. It knocks your legs out from under you, turns your brain to jello, and fills you with an indescribable hurt, almost as if your nerves can't discern the difference between physical danger and emotional agony.

Pierre looks at Charles, silently commands him to go. Then slides to the floor, murmuring assurances as he wraps your trembling frame in his arms and forces you to lean on him. With a gentle hand Pierre coaxes your head onto his shoulder, letting you cry.

"He- he d-didn't do anything," you get out eventually. "Joe never hurt anyone. He was innocent."

Pierre bites his tongue. Joe's name is inked in the Blood Daggers ledger. Technically, he's anything but innocent. Guilty by association. Your point is valid, though. By no means does Joe deserve to suffer such a fate as to die young, with a family states away counting on the salary he sent home each month.

"We don't know anything has actually happened. This could just be a ploy to catch me off guard."

An olive branch of false hope. Pierre knows, as sure as he was about Anthoine and Jules, that Joe was dead. It was probably messy, drawn out and designed to be a scene so horrific it would imprint itself in his memory and haunt him forever.

"I hope so," you whisper, clinging tight to Pierre. "Joe's… Joe is good. Always so happy and kind and he's so thoughtful."

"Why don't you tell me some of the things he taught you?"

You drag your sleeve across your nose. "What?"

Pierre tucks a stray bit of hair behind your ear. Your red-rimmed eyes are a direct stab to his heart. "Tell me what he taught you. I know you used to spend a lot of Sundays out in the garage. So what did he teach you?"

"Um," you sniff, eyebrows drawing together as you fight to dredge up memories. Pierre's tactic works; your crying has staved off as gears spin in your head. Pierre lets you think, your thick wool sweater aggravating the soft skin of his inner wrist as he rubs your back.

"He taught me how turbos work." You sigh, letting your head rest on Pierre's shoulder. He draws a blanket over you and you continue, "and a supercharger. Those aren't as fun though."

"I don't have any supercharged cars," Pierre points out.

"Mick does. He's got a Mazda with a Hellcat engine in it." You grimace. "I dunno why you'd rip out the classic rotary and replace it with an American V8, but whatever I guess."

"You and your rotaries," Pierre murmurs. "You like those unreliable things, don't you?"

*********

"Well yeah. They sound good."

Pierre tended to avoid funerals. The pollen from various flowers made his throat itch and his eyes water. People tended to mistake that for crying and offer their condolences and in some cases attempt to hug him. Despising pity and a desire to avoid physical contact with strangers generally resulted in Pierre skipping funerals, no matter how much he cared for the person.

When you asked him to come to Joe's, though, he had to. So he dug out the black button down and black silk tie with the embroidered floral print and put it on. 

He buttons the cuffs at his wrists before thinking better of it and rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. Joe liked tattoos, though he had none himself. He sat down with Pierre after each new one the latter received and wanted to know the nitty gritty details about the design. Half the time Pierre hadn't had an answer to give beyond "I liked it at the time," but that was always enough for the older man.

Pierre sighs. Grief is a finicky thing. Where once he felt nothing, suddenly he feels a wash of hurt, like a bullet ripped through his chest. He'd never hear Joe's bellowing laugh or be able to seek out his comforting advice about trivial matters. Pierre was one step closer to being alone.

Pierre blocks out the sickly sweet smell of roses as he re-emerges into the sea of people dressed in black. The only splashes of color come from Joe's wife and daughter, dressed in bright floral prints. Pierre can barely bring himself to murmur his condolences to them. Their red rimmed eyes and hollow smiles serve as reminders that their loss is borne upon his shoulders, a burden he will never be free of.

"Anything you need, just ask," Pierre tells his widow, squeezing her hand. "There's a Swiss account in your name that should be more than enough to set the two of you up somewhere far away from here. Soren said he gave you all the details. If there's anything you two need to be comfortable, anything at all, I want you to let me know, alright?"

The woman nods, lower lip trembling. "He thought of you as a son," she says quietly, accent thick and distorting the words. "He spoke very highly of you. Thank you for that."

Pierre nods, throat closing up. He turns to you, silently asking you to take him elsewhere. You're hurting worse than he is but you manage to find a semi secluded corner from which the two of you can observe as Joe's family read stories and offer prayers over his closed casket. Closed, because Ramos hadn't been kind to the man in his final moments. 

The aftermath of the service is no better. The car ride home is silent, you staring out the window while Pierre takes the curves slow.

Your morose mood drags him down with it. He ushers you upstairs to your shared room, dropping a kiss to your head before promising to come back in a couple hours. You simply nod and crawl under the covers, tv tuned to some mindless show that you don't have to dedicate any brainpower to.

Pierre's cadre waits for him in the larger of his offices. This one is intended to be the pharaoh's false tomb, its purpose to throw off any would-be adversaries into thinking they've uncovered his precious treasures.

Lavishly decorated in jewel tones of ruby and gold, the office is ten times as extravagant as the one hidden behind the freezer. It radiates wealth, from the expensive liquors held in crystal decanters lining a mirrored wall to the scent of Italian leather that permeates the air. His feet sink an inch into the Persian carpet, large enough to protect the original wood floor from the weight of the clawfoot oak table that serves as a conference center.

Nix and Soren, both dressed in sharp black suits, quietly debate the most effective way to pinpoint the location of Ramos' estate. Charles observes from his spot along the wall, brooding over the proceedings. So really, a regular day aside from the cloud that hangs over everyone's heads.

Pierre pulls up a chair, spins it around and sits on it backwards. "Fill me in."

Nix slides the blunt side of a knife over the pad of her thumb, repeats the plan they've come up with in the last half hour.

"There's at least three safe houses that we know of where he stores his product. Now, my thoughts are that we accidentally drop a cigarette in a puddle of gasoline that's accidentally been leaking on the sidewalk from the bike that's accidentally parked illegally. I've got a guy that swears up and down he can get it done with no ties to us. He doesn't even need to see a face, just wants the money. I can get him cash so there's absolutely no trail."

Pierre surveys the map of his city. Truth be told, he was ready to be done. Three counts of arson might be a bit extreme, but when dealing with a lunatic...

"You're positive this guy can be trusted?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't suggest it otherwise."

Pierre chews on his thumbnail. He thrusts the three people in this room with his life. Their judgements are as good as fundamental truths. Jules had always led with his heart, not with his head- which turned out to be his fatal flaw. Balancing the inputs from both was the key; by now, Pierre had perfected it.

"Minimize casualties. But get it done." 

Nix's ponytail swings as she looks at each of them in turn. "So we all agree, then? We take him out at the knees, cripple his distribution, and then cut off the head."

Soren nods solemnly. "It's too merciful if you ask me, but yeah."

Charles holds up two fingers, "question. Is this supposed to be our retaliation for Ramos killing, effectively, a member of your family? Because I think it'll just piss him off more. I don't see how this is more than a papercut to him."

"It's the first step. We've got more planned, but we don't have time to enact it all at once. We still have threads to pull, people to interrogate." Soren shrugs, his folded arms accentuating his broad chest. "Scrambling his supply chain is the first of many dominos that must fall, little one."

Charles wisely keeps his damned mouth shut and doesn't rise to the taunt. Pierre gives him the space of a few heartbeats to assert any further qualms with their plan.

Pierre then turns to Nix, "You've gone awfully quiet. Regretting your suggestion already?"

Nix shakes herself like she's trying to rid herself of a bad dream. "Nothing more to add, boss. I can get out tonight and kick some rocks, stir up some dissent in the Wolf Suns so Ramos might think twice about us being the source. I've got an idea of where his sister might be, too."

"I want you following that lead," Pierre says, smoothing a wrinkle from his black tie. "And I want-"

All eyes lock on the store room door as it creaks open. You poke your head in, bleary eyed. Fresh tears stain your reddened cheeks.

Pierre's heart sinks to his feet. He's soft, so incredibly, vulnerably soft for you. He wants nothing more than to smash his fist into Ramos's face for making you hurt like this. But he can't, not when that damned man is slipperier than a fucking fish. 

"Hey," Pierre says quietly, cautiously, like speaking in a normal tone might spook you into turning tail. "C'mere."

Your bare feet move soundlessly as you shuffle into his waiting arms. His fingertips catch in the black lace of your dress as he rubs a soothing hand over your back.

"I miss him," you murmur, pulling away far enough to stare at the picture crumpled in your fist. One Pierre had actually managed to take last year of Joe laughing his ass off and you standing inside the vacant engine bay of the NSX. Wires and hoses hang loose about your legs, but your face made the whole scene that much better. You grip an imaginary wheel, face set in determination as you fly around a corner in your mind. Pierre had walked out at just the right time and known he had to capture the moment.

"It's been a long day."

Pierre glances up at Charles, surprised that the Monegasque spoke at all. Never one for comforting words, he preferred to stay silent when others were going through a crisis. Silent, or just fucking leave and abandon the other to their own devices.

Pierre fixes Charles with a threatening glare when he tries to approach, years worth of pent up emotion bubbling to the surface. You are Pierre's to protect and soothe, not Charles'. 

Charles purses his lips, stuffs his hands in his pockets and retreats to the opposite wall. Pierre tucks you a little closer. He expected push back, for Charles to insist. The old Charles would have. Backing down without a fight was unheard of when it came to Charles getting what he wanted.

Maybe he was finally learning when to let go. Maybe he had learned to prioritize, to pick his battles. Maybe having him around wouldn't be as much of a headache as Pierre expected it to be, if he was now falling into line.

"I'm gonna meet Mariah downtown," you mumble, breath warming Pierre's chest. "She's gonna show me this new lunch spot she found."

Alarms blare in his head, flashing red lights and all. Letting you out of his sight is the opposite of what he wants right now. His flank is exposed, his core team hunkered down at the estate, with little to no field support in the city should something go wrong.

Pierre knows that he can't say no, either. Not when you're already so drained. And Mariah is a smart girl; the likelihood of her dragging you into a dangerous situation is slim to none. 

Pierre waves a hand at Nix who immediately resumes the previous conversation, occupying the two others in the room and granting you some semblance of privacy. Against his better judgement, he forces his lips to move, "You want me to come with you?"

You shake your head. "I probably won't get out of the car anyway. It's just something to get me out of the house."

Pierre drops a kiss to the top of your head, glad for that slight reassurance. "Alright. Take the Type R so I can have some peace of mind at least."

"Okay." You move like a ghost, slipping out of Pierre's embrace and padding silently out the door. You're a shadow of yourself. Pierre would do anything to make it right, up to and including letting you go off on your own for a few hours. If you needed space, he'd give it.

He doesn't realize the quiet that settles over the room until Nix breaches it. "You want me to go after her, right?"

Pierre shakes his head. "Honestly Nix, I'd rather have you on surveillance. I don't expect her to be gone long. Most likely she'll cancel on her friend and go for a drive through the twisties." It's what he would do. A long, hard drive sounds appealing after the week he's had. That, followed by a few shots of whiskey when he returned home before falling into a sleep so deep and lengthy it might be mistaken for a coma.

"I can at least tail her on my way to the club," says Nix, crossing her arms. "She shouldn't be completely alone."

Nix's insistence is the straw that breaks the camel's back. All the stress comes to a head and the bubble bursts without warning, flooding Pierre with an unrelenting wave of frustration.

Pierre throws up his hands. "Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want. I'm just the boss, right? My orders should always be taken with a grain of salt."

Her blue eyes harden to chips of ice. "That's not at all what I meant."

"Fuck off, Nix. Do what you want but don't come back empty handed."

The knife in Nix's hand suddenly finds itself buried in the wall not an inch from Pierre's head. No one dares breathe. Pierre doesn't look up from the papers splayed across the table.

"I didn't realize my second had the temper of a child." A drop of scarlet blood splashes to the page, leaking from the shell of his ear.

"We're all hurt, Pierre," Nix starts, something akin to hatred in her voice. "That doesn't give you the right to be an ass." Her raven curls bob in the edge of his vision. The door slams hard enough to rattle the glasses behind the bar.

Soren sucks in a breath. "I'll take that as my cue to get the fuck out. I'll fill the rest of the club in on what's happened and make sure they're keeping an eye out."

Pierre dismisses his third with a grunt and a flick of his hand. He blinks away his blurring vision in favor of pouring himself a tall glass of whatever alcohol the closest bottle contains. He downs the contents in one swallow and slams the glass to the bartop.

Charles' hand rests between Pierre's shoulder blades. Throat burning, Pierre meets Charles' gaze in the mirror. He hates this part. He'll say that Pierre's being fucking stupid. Pierre will defend himself, probably piss Charles off in the process. No one will go to sleep happy.

Charles' thumb traces a path along his spine, simultaneously hot and cold. "You might’ve been a little harsh, calamar. I get that you can't be soft around them, but you can let them see that you're human."

Human is not how Pierre chooses to describe himself. He had extricated his basest human elements years ago with surgical precision, leaving behind only what was absolutely necessary to survive. Things like compassion and vulnerability served no purpose to him when he was building an empire. 

It's taken a concentrated effort on his end to relearn those things for your sake. When it came to business though, he still operated the same. Switched off that part of his brain that he might, on a good day, describe as something humanlike and become someone entirely different.

"If you let people in, let me in, I might be able to help."

"No." Pierre shrugs off Charles' touch and rounds on him. "Because if I do, who fucking knows what they might try to take from me? I trust them, I let them in my home, give them the means to live a lavish life- and in the end it always comes back to bite me in the ass."

"How exactly does that relate to anything I said?"

"I don't know, okay? I just- I can't-" Pierre's frustration personifies itself as a disgruntled, strangled sound, followed closely by the glass in his hand being hurtled at the opposite wall. The crystal shatters, the thick base leaving a hefty dent in the drywall. Shards litter the ground like some sort of fucked up reflection of the chandelier hanging above. 

Charles wraps an arm around Pierre's waist. With the weight of the day bearing down on him, forcing him face first into the dirt, the fight is sapped out of him. Pierre leans into it, letting Charles engulf him in a hug. The other man leeches the overbearing warmth from Pierre's bones, calming his boiling blood.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend nothing changed. He can skip over the years of pain and longing and cement himself firmly in the present. Charles' lips graze his neck and Pierre sighs heavy through his nose.

"At least your shitty blond dye job isn't for nothing," Charles mumbles. "Those people that you consider assets? Pretty sure they're not going anywhere. And I don't think any of them would ever dream of betraying you."

Pierre fingers the coarse strands of his hair. He'd dyed it a month or so ago, just some off the shelf kit from the corner store, because you'd wanted to see what it would look like. He thought it tolerable, but you downright loved it. You couldn't keep your hands off him the first couple of days, and each time he put the slightest effort into styling it even weeks later, you'd drag him off to a dark corner the first chance you got.

Once this color grew out, he'd get it professionally lightened just to see the surprise on your face when you saw.

After one last wistful moment, Pierre peels off Charles' arms. "You said as much once." Pierre stoops down to carefully collect the shattered glass. "And then you did. Betray me."

Charles sets a trash can at Pierre's side. "Yeah, I did. And I've spent the past month groveling at your feet to make up for it."

Pierre dumps the shards in the can and wipes a bead of blood on his pants. "Fine, you win." His knees pop as he stands like an arthritic old man. "Call them both and tell them to get their asses back here so we can figure out what angle to cripple Ramos from."

Charles' grin splits his face. He reaches up to ruffle Pierre's hair, "that's the spirit. A little carnage never hurt anyone."

**********

Sometimes caller ID is unnecessary. Like now, when Pierre's phone rings and three of the four people alive that he cares for stand in a half circle around him. He answers automatically, because there's only one possibility as to who is on the other end.

"How was your afternoon with Mariah?"

"I'm being followed."

Pierre goes rigid. A single glance about the space has him categorizing the usefulness of all potential weapons, ranking their effectiveness in a fight should he have to grab and go. The handgun hidden in the false bottom top right cabinet drawer is the most obvious choice. 

He shoves the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Where are you." the words ring flat, all eyes on him as he shoves the pistol in the small of his back. "Where, baby? Talk to me."

"Um, somewhere in the east part of the city? I might be lost."

His head is spinning. He can't think, can't come up with a single coherent thought outside of 'find her. Bring her home. Cut down anyone who gets in my way.' His temper reaches its flashpoint, burning so hot that merely acknowledging the white-blue flame singes the hair on his arms.

Now, Pierre mouths to Soren, signaling with a twirl of his wrist for him to gear up. Charles silently follows Soren, grabbing whatever weapons he can find.

"I'll take the bike," Charles murmurs, barely loud enough for Pierre to catch.

"That's fine." The words are spoken to you, but intended for Charles too.  In truth, Charles might have said ‘I’ve grown cat ears and a hot pink tail’ and Pierre wouldn’t have known the difference. "Tell me what you see."

"I see, uh... the bridge? I think- only part of it though.” The rumble of your exhaust is audible through the phone. Pierre counts the gear shifts, trying to determine your speed. "I'm in the city but I got turned around, I was trying to get to the Paragon but I fucked up."

Pierre's worst fear is unfolding. He forces himself into a false calm, disguises the fear as a target to be annihilated. If he lets one bit of concern paint his words, one hint of unease coat his tongue, you'd latch on to it and lose it. His one and only goal is to bring you home safe and in one piece.

Covering the phone, Pierre tells Nix, "I want their heads on fucking platters. Bring the Widower."

Nix licks her lips, pushes up her sleeves. She throws her shoulder against a hidden panel in the wall, a rack of glossy, long-barreled rifles rolling on silent casters. She selects the longest of the bunch, her favorite- the one she had multiples of hidden in attics and beneath floorboards in every hideout in the city.

"Pierre?"

"Amour, what street? Give me a street. Help me find you."

Your adrenaline manifests in the form of word vomit, "I went in a circle like you taught me, four right turns, and they're still there. I’m trying not to act suspicious but I don’t know if it’s working. I was on my way home and I noticed them-"

"Okay baby. That was really smart but don't do it again or they'll know you're onto them and it could go bad fast." Pierre picks his suit coat off the coat rack, double checking that it’s the one with the sewn in kevlar. It wouldn’t stop a rifle round, but it’s intended to be a last line of defense.

And for what he has planned, the havoc he intends to wreak on that godforsaken stretch of faded highway, he'd take what he could get.

Soren tails Pierre to the garage, his shoulder length hair tied back so as to not get in his way. "Open the console in the middle, my love. Smack it hard with your palm and the bottom should pop out."

Regardless of where you are, if Pierre pushes the limit he can reach you in under an hour. If you continue to move towards him, that further reduces the time.

Pierre points Soren and Nix to the matte gray Lamborghini collecting dust at the far end of the garage. The overhead door behind it is wide open. A midnight black motorcycle idles outside, its rider clad in a dark jacket and a helmet with a tinted visor.

A humble army of three formed at Pierre’s behest. The two men and one woman under his command ready and willing to give their lives for you, to sacrifice themselves to ensure you make it home.

Your muttered curse brings him back to himself. "I've got it. It's heavier than I'm used to but I can use it if I have to."

"Keep driving, okay? Don't stop. It's heavier because it's fully loaded, not half like I usually have you use at the range. We're coming, baby. Can you make it back to the bridge?"

Maybe it's the fact that you know Pierre is on his way, or maybe your initial shock has worn off, but there's an edge to your reply, "yeah. I'm about to cross it. Should I just keep heading home?"

Pierre starts the blood red NSX and tosses his phone to the passenger seat once the Bluetooth connects. "I’m coming. Keep heading home."

Home, towards Pierre, closer to where he can protect you, further from the man who seeks to ensnare you. Fire burns his lungs, exhaling steam and smoke with each breath. 

"Don't stop for any lights or take any turns off the main highway. Try to stay close to other cars if you can. I don’t think they’ll try anything with witnesses but you use that gun if you need to, understand?" Two sets of headlights shine in his mirrors, one bobbing and weaving down the drive while the other remains stoically straight. 

The unmistakable sound of a slide being racked on the other end of the line grants him the slightest reprieve. "I understand. I'm assuming there's more clips?"

"Two mounted under your seat, just in case." Pierre hadn't told you. He pulled an all nighter when you brought the Type R home, outfitting it with a hidden arsenal should you ever find yourself in a situation such as this. Call it paranoia, but he was glad he opted to be safe rather than sorry.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?"

Pierre rows through the gears, each shift mechanically smooth. Yes, he had thought of everything. He refused to let you succumb to the same curse as everything else he loved.

His heart urges him faster. Encourages him to hang the back end of the car out an inch further around the bends. Calculates how to shave off tenths of a second and close the gap between its soul mate in as little time as possible. 

"So, what? Ten minutes until we meet in the middle?"

A flame twin to his own licks along your voice, each word a red hot nail driven into Ramos' casket. Now that you know you're not alone, you're capable of tearing down a legion. This is why he loves you- your heart is fit for a giant but you don't let anything scare you. 

"Something like that. Stay on the phone. Tell me what the car looks like." You're the only thing keeping him on the ground. If you stop talking, his vision will go black and he'll lose himself in it.

"There might be two. Now that there's less traffic I've noticed two. One is a black Mercedes, I think? Based on the headlights, yeah, Mercedes. And the other is too far back for me to tell but it's blue. Like a dark blue, close to the sapphire you bought me on our anniversary."

A distinct pair then, one that he didn't have to worry about mistaking for regular traffic. You as good as paint a target on their backs with that description, simple as it is. "How fast are you going?"

"Just a couple over the speed limit."

Pierre does the mental math. His nostrils flare and he tightens his grip on the wheel. You’re farther than he’d expected, travelling slower than anticipated. But fine, it'll work. "You know that little overlook I took you to a while ago to watch the sunrise?"

"Of course. You fucked up dinner the night before and that was your apology for the burnt steaks." 

He hums in agreement. Pierre's heart seems dead set on fighting its way out of his ribcage. "That's where I'll meet you. You should reach it in fifteen or so minutes. How far behind you are they?"

"Mmm," you start, calculating the distance. "Fifteen or so car lengths."

"Good. Once you see me, you do not stop. You keep moving. I'll take care of them."

"Yeah, I can do that." 

The very idea of someone having the balls to follow you, probably with the intent of hurting you, pushes his head under a raging red sea. Now that it's unfolding before his eyes, he's drowning in it. Vision tinted a watery crimson by more than just the taillights of each car he passes, inching the pedal to the floor. Engine screaming like it knows a single second could be the difference between life and death, between relief and fatal error.

Pierre nearly misses the turn out. Slamming on his brakes at the last second, he leads his ramshackle army onto his chosen battleground.

"Sweetheart," Pierre starts, finger hovering over the engine off button, "I've gotta go now. Are you okay? How far are you?"

"A couple minutes. Be careful, baby. Come home to me in one piece."

Pierre smiles to himself. "Have I ever not?"

"No. Don't change that now. I'll see you at home."

He pours the last drops of his soul into his next words, "Je t'aime."

The phone call ends when he cuts the engine. A heavy thunk on his roof seconds later nearly makes him jump.

A small, brown palm smacks the tinted glass beside his head. "I'm set."

Pierre climbs out but doesn't shut the door. Considering that its lead lined, it'll offer more protection than the lining of his suit coat. Pierre lays a hand on Nix's shoulder, careful not to disturb her as she adjusts the dials on the scope of her rifle.

Soren parked the Lamborghini at an angle, providing a further barrier between the NSX and the threat quickly barreling towards them. The visor on Charles' helmet is flipped up and he's trading tactics with Soren, the details of which Pierre can't hear over the buzzing in his ears.

Headlights dip over the horizon and Pierre goes rigid. His knee hits the dirt, pistol drawn, finger hovering over the trigger… just for a mini van to pass.

Pierre swears. Combined with the humidity, the hand he drags through his hair leaves the blond strands sticking up in all directions. Heart racing, he begins to pace. Dust coats the hem of his black pants, sneaks into the crevices of his Italian leather shoes.

More headlights crest over the watery dark and Pierre pauses. Three sets, one a fair distance ahead of the others.

"How many you want left standing, boss?" Nix asks, concentration split between tracking her quarry in her scope and heeding upcoming his order.

Pierre’s skin is drawn tight over his bones. His finger hovers over the trigger of the pistol tapping his thigh. He tastes metal on his tongue, becomes aware of the lightning in his veins. 

He welcomes the familiar beast stirring within him. It scents the adrenaline, recognizes the markings of the impending battle and the bodies it promises to produce. It greedily inhales the scraps of fear Pierre feeds it, lifts it's spotted maw and roars.

It demands blood. Pierre intends to feed it until it's drunk on it.

"I only need one."

"Oh, let the fun begin." The smile is evident in Nix's voice. Charles has ripped off his helmet and joined Pierre behind the shield of the NSX's door, gun drawn.

"Take them."

A baby blue blob rounds the corner. One, two, downshifts and the exhaust of your Type R sings, your driving kicking into overdrive once you spot your family camped out. The last bit of adrenaline in his blood demands repentance as two cars, one navy and one night black, round the curve seconds later.

**********

Dirty work is usually best left to his lackeys. Personal matters though, Pierre deals with himself. Which is how he finds himself sweating in a six foot hole in the middle of an orange desert beneath a half full moon.

When faced with death, most men beg for a few extra seconds. They barter with whatever measly earthly possessions they have, some going as far as offering their families in exchange for a chance to escape. 

"Mate."

Pierre frowns up at Soren. He crouches at the edge of the grave, the moonlight at his back making it impossible to discern his expression. "What?"

"Go home. She's called me asking where you are, since you didn't have the smarts to charge your phone."

"Did she sound worried?"

"She'll be fine, mate. You aren't gonna leave before the job's done, are you?" Charles jumps down to join Pierre, hopping when he lands and crashing into Pierre's sweat-stained back. "I'll help you dig."

Pierre is far too tired to follow through on the urge to punch Charles. He glances between his friend and his third, waiting for an answer. Soren shifts on his feet to say, "I think you should go home. Don't kill me for saying that."

"Finish what you've started." Charles' murmur sounds half like a warning. Like if Pierre doesn't stay, doesn't see this bit through, it'll change… something.

"No. I should've gone home right away." Pierre hands his shovel to Charles, who's face sours.

"Run home to mommy." Pierre grips Soren's hand and hauls himself up. "You're just giving Ramos the satisfaction of knowing that he's rattled you. He's smarter than you think, he'll know you went home to her as soon as you got the chance!"

Pierre whirls on Charles. The man scowls right back at him, the challenge clear in his green eyes. Cruel as it is to string Charles along, to not sit down with him and stomp out his hope that Pierre might still harbor romantic thoughts for him, Pierre needs this anger. He needs Charles to stay fiery. More than once his uncorked anger coupled with his ability to charm the pants off a nun has gotten them out of sticky situations.

But fuck if Pierre isn't inclined to jump back in that grave and throttle Charles until his mouth is incapable of fouling your name any further.

"You've got issues man." Pierre is immensely grateful for Soren at that moment, because his comment saves him from doing just that. "Go home," Soren says. "I'll keep an eye on dipshit."

Charles spits at his feet. "Fuck you, Soren."

"If his attitude doesn't improve, leave his ass here. He can walk home, through miles of empty desert." Pierre scowls at Charles, who returns the look with equal animosity. Their battle is silent, one of wills instead of blades.

In the end, Pierre wins. Charles looks away first. 

Pierre keeps the radio off on his drive home. Charles flip flopping between supporting his decisions about the club and bashing his choices about you was beginning to wear him thin. He was damn near ready to give in to Charles, to let him take over his life, if only for five minutes of peace.

Why hadn't Pierre run to you the second it was clear Nix and Soren had the situation under control? Because Charles had insisted he stay. 

Pierre parks out front in his usual spot. He slips his ring back on his pinky finger. Movement on the porch catches his eye. Instinct has him reaching for a gun before he realizes it's you.

Keeping his movements slow, he crouches in front of you. Your head rests in one palm, your phone clutched in the other. 

Pierre's fingertips alight under your jaw, exerting slight pressure until you tip your head up. "Ma cherie." The endearment stirs nothing in you. Your eyes are semi vacant, like your consciousness is far removed from your body. His thumb brushes along your cheek, running through the scenarios of how this might go.

The best conclusion seems to be to simply coax you to your feet. "Are you hurt?" He asks softly, holding you at arms length to examine you for any sort of physical distress. The dress you're wearing isn't one he recognizes, but that's neither here nor there. First and foremost he needs to know if you're harmed because if you are… "hell breaking loose" wouldn't begin to cover it.

You shake your head. "'M okay."

Pierre wraps you in a gentle hug and presses his lips to your temple. His heart's rapid rhythm begins to calm. His eyes slide shut and he breathes you in, granting himself a minute to remember how to speak.

The first words he's capable of muttering are an apology. You don't say anything, just stand there clutching his shirt, your hot cheek pressed to his chest. Pierre holds you like you're made of glass, like if he puts too much pressure on one area you'll crack.

"I don't know how they found me so quickly." Your chin digs into his sternum when you look up at him. "They were on me the second I was in the city. Like they knew I'd be there."

Coincidences don't exist in the world of organized crime. Pierre accepted that fact a few months into his rise.

"Where did you get that dress." The question comes out flatter than he intended. 

"You left it for me. It was in a box on our bed when I went upstairs-"

"Baby, I didn't buy that."

"Yes you did." 

Pierre shakes his head.

"Then…" Your brows come together for a split second before realization washes over you. "Oh, fuck."

"Off. Right now." Pierre nearly rips the buttons from his shirt in his rush to get it off. He tosses it around your shoulders and covers your front while you shimmy out of the dress. You hand it to him and he immediately turns it inside out.

"Fucking hell," he breathes, wiggling a small metal device from in-between the folds of the tag. He holds it up to the light, mouth going dry.

Ramos had upped his game. Who knew what this little device had picked up on. He had to assume it had a microphone, probably not a camera though- he damn near crushes the thing at the thought.

Pierre needed to start thinking like the enemy. It was time for him to abandon the rulebook and start playing dirty. Nothing was off limits. Nothing too sacred. Pierre would rip Ramos down to his foundations and wipe out anything that remained.

Pierre crumples the fabric into a wrinkled ball. "I'm fucking burning this."

"I'll light the fucking match." 

Pierre's eyes soften when he notices the hard set of your shoulders. He grabs your wrist and tugs you to his chest. The cool desert night has you shaking like a leaf, dressed as you are now in nothing but his shirt.

"Come inside with me," he says quietly, taking your hand. Clutching your borrowed shirt at your throat you let him lead you inside. "Have you seen Mick?"

"Oh, that blond kid?" You jerk your chin towards the dining room, where a few guys sit and hash out some sort of game plan. Based on the presence of Sebastian, Pierre's head of security now that Soren had officially been promoted to third, he guessed he was giving them all a well deserved verbal lashing. 

Too much shit continued to slip through the cracks for it to go unpunished.

Pierre calls for the young German boy and his head snaps up. Sebastian dismisses him with a waved hand and launches right back into his speech. Mick, eager as ever, jogs over and dutifully ignores your half-dressed frame. 

"What can I do for you sir?"

"Take this to Soren at the Paragon." Pierre drops the bug in the boy's outstretched palm. "I want to know who made it."

Mick tucks the device in the interior pocket of his suit coat. "Yes sir, I will-"

"Where were you this afternoon, Mick?" Your voice rings through the entry, clinical and cold. Pierre purses his lips but doesn't say anything. 

Mick keeps his chin held high and looks you in the eye as he speaks, "Off duty, ma'am."

"Right. But where were you?"

"Playing cards with some friends at the Paragon. Esteban should be able to confirm that for you. He just about cleaned out my pockets by the time I had to leave. I only got here an hour ago, found everything in chaos."

A relieved smile tugs at your lips. "Thank you, Mick." You pat his cheek and Pierre swears a hint of pink rises on the boy's cheeks. "I like you. I'm glad you've been untouched by all this mess so far. Keep it that way, please."

"Yes ma'am." Mick nods to Pierre and heads for the garage.

Pierre glances sideways at you. The pace you set up the stairs is unhurried, like you could care less that Ramos' dogs nipped at your feet mere hours ago.

"Do I need to be worried about how well you're taking all this?"

Inside the sanctity of your shared room, you shed Pierre's shirt and leave it in a puddle by the door. "No. I'm fine."

"Are you?" Pierre comes up behind you. He sweeps your hair up, exposing your shoulder so he can drop kisses to your skin. He can't stand to not be touching you for more than a few seconds, lest this reality prove to be false. He's still on edge, gut roiling at how close he was to something disastrous happening. 

You, on the other hand, seem practically unaffected. Like tonight's events were just another average night in the Gasly household, funeral, attempted kidnapping and all.

"Yes, I am. I'm used to it by now."

"Used to what?" You step out of Pierre's reach and Pierre follows you dutifully to the bathroom, where you draw a bath.

"All of this." You flourish a hand to encompass the room, like that explains it. When Pierre quirks a brow, you sigh, "the threats, Pierre. The constant looking over my shoulder to check for a tail. Talking in hushed tones, questioning people I'm supposed to be able to trust blindly. It's all become commonplace for me in the past few months."

Pierre wishes he could read your mind. He'd give anything for a glimpse in your head right now, to witness first hand what you're feeling, so that he can be utterly sure that you're truly as nonplussed by almost being kidnapped as you outwardly seem to be. Because what sane person lets themselves become accustomed to that? He was, sure, but no one on this planet would classify him as mentally stable.

Pierre shakes his head and states the only logical conclusion, "You're in shock."

"I'm not," you snap, rounding on him. "I'm fucking used to it, Pierre. I am. You try to protect me from it but do you really think I don't know? This is my house, my castle, as much as it is yours and I know everything that goes on under this roof. I know how many of Ramos' dealers you've caught and killed and how little it affected him. I know Niall's been sitting over in Belfast waiting on payment for his last shipment for a month and a half, because you've been chasing Ramos' breadcrumb trail.

"But what I don't understand," you continue, wagging a finger in his face as angry tears glass your eyes, "is why you won't just give that bastard what he wants. We're stuck in this loop because you killed his fucking kingpin or whatever- what could he want? Money? Drugs? Territory? Why can't you just give it to him?"

Pierre did know what Ramos wanted. He'd laid it out in plain terms. It wasn't a price he had been willing to pay then, and it sure as fuck isn't a price he's willing to pay now.

"I can't give him what he wants," Pierre says, borderline pleading with you.

"I'm sick of it. I don't want to live like this, Pierre. I'm fine with the way it was before, when you were the king and you were untouchable. The Daggers were on top of the food chain, eating other clubs for a midmorning snack. But now? Never knowing if today's the last time I'll see you? I fucking hate it."

A single tear slips down your cheek at the same time the bath overfills. Water spills over the tiles. Pierre lets it flow, reaching for you. You fight him, pummeling his chest with well-placed blows but he takes it, folds you to him until your hands fall to your sides and you let out a sob.

He stands long enough that water soaks his shoes and wicks up his socks but he doesn't dare let go.

"I'm so sick of crying." You paw at your eyes, smudging the artfully applied mascara.

That's all it takes for Pierre's resolve to crumble to dust. You're the one thing he's sworn his life to protect. He'd give up everything to keep you safe, sheltered, and happy.

"I'll end it. I'll give him what he wants."

You reach behind you to shut the tap. "How long until it's over?"

"As long as it takes me to get everything in order."

"Give me a timeline."

"A month then. It'll be over in a month." 

You nod against his chest. "I wanna move up our wedding to then. It'll give us something good to start a new chapter with, once all this shit is behind us."

He'd fucked himself there. But there's no way he can spin it to buy himself more time with you so he agrees.

“One month and I’ll say ‘I do.’”

God help him if he went back on his word.

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WE'RE TAKING OVER THE WORLD, ONE KISS AT A TIME!ㅤ

"mittie" (full name trophically-transmitted parasite, any pronouns) — erratic // good // party animal

general (head): skinblend // facekit // face gradient // face undertones // hair + ombre // ahoge // brows // eye preset // lashes // eyes (hu tao) // black sclerae overlay // eyeliner (base game) // teeth // mouth recolor // head bizarre flowers (pollen) // ear bizarre flowers // branches // leaves general (body): body preset // skinblend // skin color // skin tints // arm gradients // leg gradients // body gradient (eezo shot jewels) // nails // vine overlay 1 // vine overlay 2 & bizarre flowers // arm petals (nascent petals) everyday: top (dream home decorator) // shorts (backyard) // shoes (gotta go) formal: choker // top (sweater vest) + shorts (distressed shorts) // shoes (base game) athletic: top (base game) // shorts (carnaval streetwear) // shoes (gotta go) sleep: top (horse ranch) // shorts (base game) // shoes (base game) party: choker // top (leila tee) // skirt (i couldn't find a working link...) // shoes (get together) swimwear: outfit (base game) // feet hot weather: top (jungle adventure) // shorts (daniel shorts V1) // shoes (gotta go) cold weather: outfit (snowy escape) // scarf (no. 3) // gloves (home chef hustle) // shoes (get together) extras: poses 1 // poses 2 // fish inspired by @puppycheesecake's bizarre plantsim family!

thank you! — @atomiclight, @pyxiidis, @valhallansim, @serawis, @raccoonium, @simbience, @saruin, @ssspringroll, @plantainboat, @diesus2412d, @reibies-sims, @pinkpatchy, @dizzyrobinsims, @zaneida-and-sims4, @obscurus-sims, @noodlescc, @crilender, @gummyheaven, @auralixx, @magic-bot, @dansimsfantasy, @nucrests, @sentate, @aharris00britney, @ayoshi, @helgatisha, @the-daydream-archives