#spectacled-sims

[silvasteel]

Old habits

[mantisgodsdomain]

In thoughts mostly unrelated to that - with all the "send in your spearmaster/gourmand/hunter/five pebbles/whatever" type things going around the Rain World fandom, we wonder if anyone'd be interested in, like, submitting their characters into a "your characters will probably die" type event?

We've recently been reminded of the existence of the BrantSteele Hunger Games Simulator, and loading it up with canon characters plus a bunch of OCs sounds like the kind of thing that could easily be fun. The day/night system it has might be interesting for making, like, some kind of Event, too. Scheduled posts and such. Could probably set up a theme for letting people track their favored contestants throughout the... however long it takes.

If there's interest, we'll probably make a "submit your characters" post, if there's not, then there's no need to strike a fuss.

[stinkrascal]

yall gotta learn to just not answer asks that annoy you bc sometimes yall get so mean for absolutely no reason

[makeartnotfriends23]

Character Designs - The Avatars and Division 5 Members

Ray Jackson: Avatar of Time

Ash Thompson: Division Five

Arthur: Avatar of Life

Jasper Wells: Avatar of Reality

Emmett: Avatar of Death

The Spectacle: Avatar of Dreams

Rosemary: Avatar of Space

Bob Fizzlestick: Division Five

Isabella Cook: Division Five

Selena Douglas: Division Five

Magnus Von Stein: Division Five

Cavendish Von Stein: Division Five

Artemis Noise: Division Five

Sim Armstrong: Division Five

Victory Little: Division Five

[pleasantstrangetown]

Daniel?!!

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader

I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror

It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.

Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.

Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.

It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?

You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.

Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.

Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ

You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.

It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.

The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.

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[asphaltapostle]

A proud and noble thing, truly.

[icekkeugf]

pairing: co-worker!jake x intern!reader (afab)

genre: porn without any plot, really...

warnings: jake is reader's work senior, breach of professional boundaries, impatient unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, use of the names "baby" and "babe", no apparent d/s dynamics

wordcount: 1,500ish words

note: koko engene era and writer era comeback >_< i can NOT for the life of me build on a plot but i hope this is to the enhablr residents' liking :P

a soft rustle of the sheets as his knees, clad in slacks, scrape against the silk. fingers, calloused and normally familiar, coming to rest on your thighs, thumb pressing into the side of it before painting a few circles deftly. an erratic sigh of your name slips past the confines of his mouth, his wet, pink tongue prodding out of its home to lick at his bottom lip that was previously tugged onto by his teeth. "jake...please!" head spinning, you suddenly deem it to be the perfect moment to recall what really propelled the two of you to disregard the boundaries that you once gave too much concern to.

it was a chilly evening, with dried and brown-leaved trees withering from the apparent breeze, creating a sullen atmosphere. not to mention that you had no interest in attending your internship work hours, but you were also carefully made the scapegoat for the irresponsible mistake of your direct supervisor. now having to clean up the spilled milk and possibly gather it back to its purest form, you push yourself against the backrest of your chair. id card hanging loosely over the button that conceals your pink bowed bralette, you squint at it, tears threatening to wash out at the very next and slightest inconvenience. 

that's exactly when sim jake, a senior of yours at the internship, prances in, seemingly in the brightest mood possible. jake and you haven't really had the chance to interact much, holding yourselves to the occasional formal greetings and polite smiles in passing. however, neither of you could deny the instant attraction you'd felt upon your first meeting and the gradual increase in the tension that lingers in the air, on the verge of jeopardizing both of your jobs. of course, this does not tempt either of you to breach the lines of your professional lives. 

"jake. there you are! our intern would appreciate your guidance." to your luck, you find him immediately walking to you, a quirk of his brows while his head tilts to the side. mustering up the last of your confidence, you nod hesitantly at jake, not failing to notice how his tie had been loosened to the point it almost seems fashionable. you don't comment, however, for the loosened tie provides you with an uninterrupted view of his milky skin and the expanse of his chest while he leans over you.

the gawking doesn't go unnoticed, his lips forming a thin line with a raise of his fingers to push his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "is that what you need help with?" you, at first, only seem confused—a sweet little deer caught in headlights—but when his gaze lingers over your face, then your shoulders, swerving left to your collarbones—then, to the little skin exposed above your blouse, you know you're doomed. because, how are you to explain to him the reason behind the very visible clench of your thighs, now pressed flush together?

it doesn't take long for the day to go by; it's a blur, really, filled with the vivid memories and sensations of jake's fingers that barely hover above yours as he maneuvers your handling of the desktop. the fleeting eye contact coupled with heaving chests when one catches the other staring a little longer than what is professional or normal makes you fuzzy. so, it's no surprise that things finally escalate when jake conveniently lets himself into the elevator that is otherwise empty except for you.

there's no need to exchange words as he backs you into a corner, his hips pressing against yours gently while his palms reach around your waist, caressing your lower back through your shirt. it's all teeth and tongue when his lips finally crash into yours. a desperate groan that he allows you to swallow resounds in the elevator that indicates a stop on the 14th floor. you frantically push him away while he fixes the one messy strand of his hair, his glasses fogged up by the minimal contact. 

you can't recall how you had to sneak into jake's backseat while he drove you two out the office parking. constantly teased by your toying hands, his resolve completely slipping, his hips pathetically rutting into the air while his knuckles whiten at the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. now, back in his lush apartment, glowing gold, an erratic sigh of your name slips past the confines of his mouth, his wet, pink tongue prodding out of its home to lick at his bottom lip that was previously tugged onto by his teeth. "jake...please!"

the said man lets out a short gasp, his name sounding so sweet when rolled off of your honeyed tongue. he reasons that he can't wait anymore, unzipping his slacks in a go, waiting for you to do the same with your pencil skirt. with difficulty, you do so, fleshy thighs bulging against his mattress, making his cock twitch in its place. not letting you speak another word, he pulls on your thighs, manhandling you into laying your lower half below his. no thought in his head, only the primal urge to fuck you into oblivion, and with that controlling his mind, he lifts your hips with a singular hand while the other tugs at your panties, letting its thin strip sit at the side to display your cute, puffy folds. 

he almost moans at the sight of your glistening pussy, the pretty gem visibly begging him to dip his tongue in for a taste. "you're perfect, baby. look at you, so pliant under my touch, your pussy's so pretty. all for me, yeah?" he asks, not really intending for you to respond to him, just blabbering whatever at this point. with a swivel of his hips, there's a sudden intrusion that has you cussing instead, your walls shamelessly clenching onto him like vice.

jake grits his teeth at the sensation, pistoning his veiny cock into your cunt with a certain force that has your eyes rolling back. “god, would've fucked you sooner if i knew your pussy was this good, baby.” he cries out, his hands finding home around your arms and pulling you onto him as he kneels down behind the mattress. even as you sit atop him, he doesn't stop rutting into you, fucking you like a rabbit in heat.

nipping at the skin right above your chest, jake rolls his hips to try and find a different angle. you kiss him on the mouth in appreciation, spit mixing together. you're driven far enough to tear up at the sensation of his cock lodging itself so deliciously inside you. you allowed yourself to rest your nose against his, lips parting while you unconsciously drool like a puppy, pavlov's theory, you suppose.

jake moans while you sink your head into the crook of his neck, licking and sucking at his unmarked skin, almost as if you're setting your claim on him. “you’re making such a pretty mess, babe.” he whispers after a long while of just the sounds of the bed springs squeaking and headboard rattling against the wall. this is just before he is delivering one final thrust and then spilling his seeds into your warm cavern. the warmth from his release has you clenching around his slowly softening dick, a tidal wave of orgasm crashing and making you thrash against him. jake breathes out, panting against your lips, before inviting yours to meet his one last time for the night.

[gyutopia]

world of sinners v | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft brother sungchan & lee heesung

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.0k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of drugs, mentions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, corruption, consumption of alcohol, possessiveness, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), rough(?) sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, slight nipple play, praise, fingering (f receiving), dom!jake, sub!reader, unprotected sex.

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Jaeyun had done a fantastic job of choosing your attorney. Stella, a tall, slim woman with bright red hair in her late twenties, is sought out by rich business owners who often find themselves in legal trouble. Though she's only a few years older than you and relatively new to law, she exudes an air of high maintenance and smugness.

Stella takes her seat beside you, her smile unwavering, followed by the officers who had made a spectacle of arresting you in public for all of Korea to see. They settle across from you, letting a beat pass before they begin questioning you again.

"Mrs. Sim," the detective begins, his tone formal, "we need to ask you a few questions regarding your whereabouts during the time of the chief's death."

You swallow hard, glancing briefly at Stella, who gives you a reassuring nod and a cheerful wink. "I was at home with my husband," you reply steadily.

The officer who arrested you, Taehyun, leans forward slightly. "Can anyone else confirm that?"

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice calm. "Yes, our staff can confirm it. We were together all evening."

The detective scribbles something in his notebook. "Can you provide any more details about your evening? Any visitors? Any phone calls?"

You think back, trying to recall anything that might help. "We had dinner together. No visitors, no phone calls that I can remember."

Stella interjects, her voice bright and confident. "My client has already provided her alibi. Unless you have further evidence to suggest otherwise, we see no reason for this continued detention."

Officer Kang ignores Stella. “Mrs. Sim, you do understand that the evidence against you is pretty damning, right?”

You don’t say a word.

The detective and officer share a look. “The chief was last seen having lunch with you a week prior to his disappearance. Care to explain?”

Stella scoffs with a playful roll of her eyes. “What’s wrong with going out to eat with an associate? Haven’t you done it before, detective?”

Detective Choi tisks but disregards Stella’s comment. He places a sheet of paper on the table and twists it so you have a clear view. “You were the last person Chief Minho called,” he says, placing down two other call logs. “You also seemed to share multiple calls dating back to before you even announced your engagement to Sim Jaeyun.”

You frown. “Impossible,” you mutter as you look down at the call logs. Taehyun uses this as an opportunity to sink his claws into you.

“Impossible? Why do you say that?”

Stella places a hand on your shoulder and encourages you not to answer, but you’re too out of it to comply. “I mean, yeah, we’ve called each other a few times, but I can’t be the last person he called.”

Yeonjun hums. “Is that so?”

Stella hisses, “Do not engage with them, ____.”

You shrug her off. “The call logs have to be wrong, maybe even doctored. I remember this date,” you say as you point to it. “It was yesterday. My husband took me to the museum that day. I didn’t get a call from the chief, just a call from an unk—” You cut yourself off as you realize exactly who called you from the unknown number yesterday. “That son of a bitch!” you hiss. It was the chief. It makes sense. Whoever killed him did a hell of a job making sure all fingers would point back to you.

Yeonjun smirks and sinks back into his seat. “The museum, huh? Thought you were at home with your husband?”

You gape at the detective as you realize the hole you’ve dug yourself into. You and Jake spent that night at his safe house, there’s no CCTV of you ever making it back home from the museum. Seeing as these cops are hellbent on putting you away they can easily check the street camera to see when you made it home.

“They went to the museum in the morning and spent their afternoon at home. What are you getting at, Yeonjun?” Stella asks, her voice lilting with mock curiosity.

His eyes flicker to your defense attorney before he turns back to you. “Are you happy with your marriage, ____?”

Your body freezes at the question. Are you happy? You entered your engagement and marriage indifferently, angry at the world for where you had ended up. But things are different now. You’re falling in love with Jaeyun; he’s made you incredibly happy in these short few weeks. Maybe you’re beginning to become content with where you are now?

“What does my client’s marriage have to do with the murder charges against her?”

“The FBI has an ongoing case against your husband. I assume murder isn’t below him just as it isn’t below you. I suspect you were having an affair with the Chief, wanted to make things official, but he didn’t seeing as you were getting married. In a fit of rage, you killed him. Your husband, who’s madly in love with you, then proceeded to cover up your crimes.”

You feel a dull throb in your temple. You have no doubt you'll have a migraine by the time you leave this interrogation room.

“Stop badgering my client; this is all speculation.”

Detective Choi doesn’t stop. “We understand the chief owed your family money?”

You nod. “Yes.”

The bastard had upped his bribe fee once it was announced that Sungchan would be taking over but never followed up on his half of the deal. Sungchan had asked you what he should do two days before your wedding, but you told him you would take care of it and arranged to meet Minho the next night.

You’re willing to bet that the pictures they claim to have of the two of you out to lunch are probably of you two in a heated argument over when he would uphold his half of the deal. Either that or he’d pay back the money. Taehyun flips through pages of paper on his clipboard.

“That’s motive.”

You raise an eyebrow. Motive? “Stop stating false claims. I didn’t kill him.”

Taehyun ignores you. “Okay, I believe you. You weren’t having an affair, but you thought you could get an upper hand on your father who handed the company over to your brother when it should have been yours. You figured if you couldn’t have the company, you could at least get away with the money. You met with the chief for lunch to discuss a payment plan for what he owed your father, but when he refused to give you the money, you stormed to his home and killed him, then had your husband cover it up.”

You let out a dry laugh. They think you're envious of Sungchan? If anything, you pity your elder brother. You despise that company with your whole being. “You think I want the company? It can burn to the ground for all I care. As for the money, have you forgotten I married rich? Why would I need the four billion won your Chief stole from my family when my husband spoils me with extravagant gifts?”

Stella places a hand on your thigh. “That’s enough, ____,” she turns to the officer and detective. “As for you two, you’re both speculating and writing two very different narratives. My client didn’t kill the chief for money, nor did she do it because of a torrid affair. If you continue on, we’ll sue for harassment and defamation.”

The two share a look, and Detective Choi clears his throat. “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong, hm? Maybe it was accidental? You didn’t mean to kill him, did you? An argument transpired while you two were out for lunch. You felt wronged and went to his loft to speak to him, but he dismissed you. In a fit of rage, you pushed him, and he fell, hitting his head on the way down. Scared, you hid the body.”

Stella interjects in a harsh tone, “My client will not be answering that.”

You stare off into space, no longer knowing what to do. You’re truly at a loss. No matter what you say and no matter how many times you deny it, they will find a way to convict and sentence you for a crime you didn’t commit. Even in death, the bastard was still screwing you over.

“We have no further questions. Make sure you stay in Seoul and are reachable. I’m sure we’ll have more questions as more evidence turns up.”

Officer Kang and Detective Choi pack up their papers and bid you goodbye. You let out a sigh of relief and let your body sag. You were right about the migraine.

“Jake has requested we meet him for lunch to discuss a few details about your case. Let’s go,” Stella says as she packs up her briefcase, her tone still bright. You nod and follow behind her.

“____! Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Jake asks as you come into his line of vision. He engulfs you in a hug and holds you tightly to his chest. Stella sidesteps you two and bounces over to the table, beaming.

“I’m starving! Can we eat now? I could eat a horse!” she exclaims with a giggle.

You blush and push Jake off of you before taking a seat across from Stella. Jake fixes his suit and sits beside you. “How was it? Do you really think they can convict her?”

Stella grabs a menu, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, they’ll try their best, but they’ve got nothing solid! I bet they’ll drag their feet until they find the murder weapon or some more witnesses. But don’t you worry, they’re going to have a hard time pinning it on you!” she says, winking.

She waves the waiter over and orders with enthusiasm, then turns to you and Jake with a dazzling smile, “What about you two? You’ve got to try the gnocchi here, it’s to die for!”

You look at her, stunned. You’re the leading suspect in a murder you didn’t commit; why is she so cheerful? You shake your head, “I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment.”

Stella shrugs, “Suit yourself! More room for dessert then!” she says, laughing.

Jake places his hand on your thigh and gingerly rubs soothing circles, “I’ll have a glass of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, and my wife will have a pot of chamomile tea.”

The waiter nods and takes down your drink orders before walking away.

“Forensics didn’t find any of your DNA on the chief's body or clothes, which is great news! But the detectives say they have a witness who claims to have seen you fleeing the chief’s home a few minutes after the alleged time of death,” Stella says, her eyes twinkling as if she’s sharing a juicy piece of gossip.

You stare at her wide-eyed, “What do you mean? I have an alibi for the night he was killed!”

Stella sighs dramatically, “It’s not the best alibi, honestly. The prosecution could easily poke holes in it. But don’t fret! We’ve got time to figure this out.” The waiter returns with your drinks, pouring your tea before leaving. “Be honest, are you guilty?”

Jake scowls, “What kind of question is that? Of course she isn’t.”

Stella sends him a sunny smile, “No need to get so angry. I just want to make sure there are no secrets between us. I’ll head down to the station tomorrow to see if I can find out who the witness is. I’ll keep you updated on any changes in your case.”

You nod and pick up your tea cup, blowing on the hot drink and taking a small sip. “I’m meeting a friend at the NFS later today. Right now the prosecution only has a case because of the doctor’s findings in Chief Minho’s autopsy. If we can come up with a different cause of death or estimated time of death, you could be exonerated,” Stella says, her voice full of excitement.

“Wait, the case is riding on one medical examiner's results? What if they were falsified?” Jake asks.

Stella nods eagerly, “Exactly! That’s why I’m meeting with my friend. He’s super meticulous with his autopsies. I’ll leave him a copy of the report and see what he has to say. If he comes up with different findings, we can easily get the charges dropped!”

The waiter returns and takes your food orders, leaving you in a momentary silence. The restaurant's ambiance is calming, but your mind is far from at ease. Stella, ever cheerful, breaks the silence.

"In the meantime, stay strong! The prosecution’s case is weak without concrete evidence, but we need to be prepared for anything,” she says brightly.

You nod absently, sipping your chamomile tea. Jake's hand remains on your thigh, his touch grounding you.

The food arrives, and though you have no appetite, you force yourself to take a few bites. Stella, on the other hand, eats with an unhurried elegance, her demeanor never faltering.

Once lunch is finished, Stella dabs her lips with a napkin and stands. "I'll head to the NFS now. Stay reachable. I'll contact you as soon as I have any updates!"

Jake rises to pay the bill, nodding to Stella. "Thank you, Stella. We appreciate everything you’re doing.”

Stella gives a curt nod and walks away with her briefcase in hand. Jake returns to you, helping you to your feet and guiding you out of the restaurant. The drive home is quiet, Jake occasionally glancing over at you, but you remain silent, lost in your thoughts. The weight of the accusations, the potential outcomes, and the sheer injustice of it all consume you.

When you arrive home, the quiet comfort of your surroundings does little to alleviate your anxiety. As soon as you step inside, you turn to Jake, your eyes pleading. You need a distraction, something to take your mind off the nightmare your life has become.

You step closer, hands trembling as you start to unbuckle his belt.

Jake's hands cover yours, stopping you. “____, not like this."

"Please, Jake," you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of your desperation. "I need to focus on something other than what's going on. I need you."

Jake's resistance falters at the raw vulnerability in your eyes. He pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly becomes urgent. You cling to him, needing his touch, his presence, to ground you.

His hands move to lift your hoodie, and you remove his shirt before guiding him to the bedroom. The need to lose yourself in him, to escape the crushing reality even for a moment, drives every action. You reach for his belt again, and this time he doesn't stop you.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and reassuring.

You nod, your fingers deftly undoing the buckle. "I'm sure. I need this, Jake. I need you.”

The moment you step foot in Jake’s bedroom, you feel the temperature rise. Your clammy hands shake almost imperceptibly in his while Jake slowly pulls you closer towards his bed. Almost as if he can sense your nervousness, Jake’s eyes soften; his fingers lightly grip your chin and turn you up and towards him. He can see the anxiousness in your eyes and feel the way your body trembles near his.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. We can just cuddle or something,” Jake says, his hands moving to trace your side. His touch is completely attentive, fingers slowly massaging your flesh through your clothing. Reflexively, your eyes flutter, a soft whine escaping your lips. His words cause your heart to clench, and you quickly shake your head, your hair following the movement. “No. I want this. I want you,” you whisper as you look earnestly into his eyes.

Steeling every single nerve you have, you gather yourself and run your hand down his sculpted chest and towards his clothed length. Jake lets out a pained moan as you begin palming him through his slacks. You can almost feel everything through his boxers. He’s still a little soft, but despite that, he feels huge under your palm.

“Ah,” Jake gasps. Then, as one of your fingers runs along the length of his shaft through his clothing, he hisses. Completely taken by how he feels, you find yourself slowly admiring his cock. You can’t see it yet, but it radiates heat through his clothing as it pulses under your touch, slowly hardening. He grows under your touch, slacks just barely tenting as you continue to palm him through the material of his clothing.

“Fuck… princess,” Jake breathes out, his face scrunched up in pleasure. You stare up at him, eyes scanning across his features as your hand slowly goes past the barrier and into his briefs. Your hand curls around his length before pumping up and down. When he lets out a pained groan, his eyes slowly shutting at your ministrations, you find your core clenching. Jake looks beautiful.

Jake suddenly pulls your hand away and shakes his head. “No, this is about you.” He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs with your underwear.

“Come ‘ere,” Jake says, reaching out for you. He takes your hand within his before pulling you towards the bed. He takes a seat first and then slides his pants and boxers down, his hands then perch themselves on your hips, and he pulls you further between his thighs. Long, dexterous fingers trace along your hips and towards the hem of your top before sliding it up your torso, completely taking it off. He presses his face against your stomach, and you shiver when his lips run along the flesh, his breath fanning your stomach. Then, he’s guiding you to sit on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jake says, looking up at you as his hand cups your jaw while his thumb runs over your swollen lips. His words cause your eyes to soften, and you cup his jaw with both your hands before kissing him tenderly. Jake’s eyes slip shut before deepening the kiss. You begin grinding against his thighs, your core completely soaked, aching with the need for him.

Feeling your hot pussy against his naked thigh, Jake slowly lifts you off of him before spinning around and laying you down on the bed. Jake braces himself over you as both his arms cage your body. His lips never leave yours, finding it almost impossible to pull away. Your tongues dance sensually, Jake’s caressing yours tenderly as he pours every ounce of his feelings into the kiss. The only reason you both finally pull away is due to the need for oxygen in both your lungs.

With a gasp, Jake breaks away, instead, peppering kisses along your jaw and down towards your neck. When his tongue scrapes against the outline of your clavicle you find yourself gasping. His teeth gently nibble your skin, pulling the flesh between his plush lips and sucking as he leaves marks on you. When he’s sufficiently marked you, he pulls away, admiring you. He places a soft kiss against the mark before angling his neck and kissing the underside of your jaw.

Jake shifts his body down so his face is just over your breasts. Brushing his lips over the hem of your bra, Jake’s mouth grazes your breasts just slightly. With a groan, you arch into his tender touch. He’s so gentle with you and even more tender with the way his lips ghost every inch of your chest.

“Jaeyun?” you ask, head tilting. Jake only hums in response, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your left breast before nuzzling into the soft skin.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” you ask, and Jake chuckles against your skin. He buries his face between your breasts, letting your breasts encompass his face as he kisses along your sternum, just above the hem of your bra.

“Mhm… gotta undress you first,” Jake replies. You blink before you feel his fingers gently trail along your side and under your back. Aiding him, you arch your back, letting him fumble around with the clasp for a few moments before he unlocks it and tosses it across his room.

Once stripped of all your clothes, Jake gently pushes you back down on the bed before he begins trailing his slim fingers along your wet folds. You buck your hips into him, you can feel your wetness sticking and unsticking to the lace of your panties with your movements.

“What do you want, princess? Use your words.” He encourages as you involuntarily clench at nothing. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“I-I want your fingers,” you’re cut off by Jake pinching your pussy lips. You release a loud moan and jerk your hips into his hand, “a-and your mouth.”

“Anything for my princess” He says and then slips your panties down your legs, Jake trails his fingers up and down your slit, gently brushing against it. He pushes one of his long digits into your dripping heat. Your breath quickens as he begins pumping the curled finger in and out slowly. You bite down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Jake sinks a second finger into you, you hiss. He pulls his fingers out causing you to whine, hips chasing his hand as you buck into the air. He grins at you before sucking his fingers, licking your arousal clean off of them. You clench at the sight.

He leans down and places kisses on your body until he comes to your navel. He parts your legs and groans at the sight. You blush at the way he stares down your wet pussy and try to close your legs but he glares at you and shakes his head, “don’t.”

He parts your thighs again and leans down between them and places a soft kiss against your clit. You cry out and thrust your hip into his face. He pushes his lips against your clit, his tongue flicking and licking your nub as he sinks his fingers back into your snatch.

Messily, Jake eats you out, his tongue lashes against your clit as he plunges his fingers in and out of you at a high speed. He gently bites your clit and sucks harshly making you spasm. “I’m gonna cum.” You warn.

“Cum for me. Cum on my fingers,” Jake says, drawing out your orgasm. Your walls clench and he lets out a little groan, You shut your eyes tightly as you come undone all over his fingers and face.

He helps you ride out your high before stepping away and moving up your body to kiss you again. “You’re so beautiful.” He mutters against your lips. He steps away for a quick moment to take his cock into his right hand and pumps it a few times. “How do you want it baby?”

“Doggy. I want you inside me. I need you to fill me with your cum.” You breathe out, your voice soft and submissive. You look at him timidly. Your lips are parted to release whimpers. “Can you please fuck me?”

Jake gulps at your words, he’s always heard that you were known for being blunt but never would he have expected that. Your words send a reaction straight to his cock which is painfully hard.

“Lay on your stomach,” he demands, pinning his dark eyes on you. “Now.”

You scramble to do as he says. You flip yourself so you’re laying down on your stomach and wait for him to touch you, your body heating up at the thought of having his dick inside you. You can hear him step closer to you and can feel his presence by your legs. A surprised gasp escapes your lips when he slides his arm under your stomach and lifts you up. He drags your body closer to the edge of the mattress so that you are bending over the bed but he doesn’t let go of you just yet.

He grabs a few pillows from the head of his bed and slides them under your hips, propping you up. You let out a little content sigh as he drops your body. You can feel the bed dip as he rests a knee beside your hip. You jolt forward when he spanks your ass with full force. You wait with baited breath as Jake squeezes your cheeks. You moan at the feeling of him fondling your bum.

“You have such a pretty ass.” He mutters in a low appreciative growl.

You blush but say nothing to the compliment. Jake decides to be merciful and stops fondling your ass. He positions himself at the back of your thighs and puts his weight very lightly on you. He uses his hands to pull your cheeks apart, spreading them to make sure you are well lubricated. When he sees how your womanhood is glistening with slick and cum he hums, “you’re so wet for me, princess.”

He shuffles up the bed a little bit and lets go of your ass. You feel his cock tap on your bottom. “Are you ready, love?”

You hum and wiggle your bottom. You let out a little mewl when you feel his tip tease your entrance. He rubs his cock up and down your slit to coat his tip with your slick. You both let out shaky breaths as he slips his thickness inside you, your tight walls milking his throbbing length. You whimper and mewl at the pleasure, your entire body heating up with want. Jake stays like this for a few moments to let you adjust to the feeling before he starts to slip in and out of you. His thrusts start to pick up speed, hitting the right spot each time, leaving you a moaning mess. He is grunting and breathing loudly behind you. The sound of his hips slapping against your bouncing ass is loud.

“You’re such a good girl, ____.” Jake grunts, slamming his cock deep and hard into your pussy. You let out a high pitched gasp at the feeling. The pleasure is so amazing that you push your ass out even more, directly pressing your ass on his hips. Jake hikes his other leg up next to you and leans down to lay his body on you. He slides his hands under your arms then he leans down to press a soft kiss on your nape. He lays a few kisses on your neck and flexes his muscles to hold him up better, he picks up his pace again and starts fucking you hard and fast. He groans into your ear and starts whispering dirty things into your ear. The faster he goes the closer you feel to your climax.

He brings his elbows closer together so that you are wedged tighter between his arms. “F…fuck, princess,” he whines, “I’m going to cum in you.” You hum and lift your ass.

“Please do.”

He fucks you deep and hard, each thrust filled with overflowing love and passion. Jake lets out a low growl into your ear and in one more powerful thrust, he fills you up with his warm sticky cum. But he’s relentless, he continues to fuck you through his climax. You whine and mewl, you feel so full with both his thick cock and cum shoved in you, in no time you feel your orgasm crashing through your body.

Jake continues to thrust in and out of you as you both ride out your highs. Once you’ve both calmed down he slides off of you and removes the pillows so your hips can touch the bed. He pulls you close to him and covers you both with his blanket.

You and Jake lay entwined in the bed, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against the chill of your fears. The room is silent except for the gentle rhythm of your breaths, and for a while, it feels as though the world outside your bedroom doesn’t exist.

Jake breaks the silence first, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. “Are you okay now? Do you want to talk about it?”

You take a deep breath, considering his question. You’re not okay, not really, but talking might help. You turn to face him, your eyes meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

Jake’s hold on you tightens slightly, offering silent support. You begin, telling him what Anton had told you about Sungchan’s call, about the preparations for you to leave Korea. Jake’s jaw tightens as you speak, a flash of anger in his eyes at the thought of someone trying to take you away from him. He pulls you closer, as if to shield you from even the idea of being taken away.

“I don’t want to suspect my own brother,” you continue, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t even make sense. But I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

Jake’s expression softens, but there’s a hard edge to his eyes. “I didn’t want to say this before, but I had Jay and Jungwon do some digging on the missing baggie boys. They caught one of the guys sneaking into our territory and got him to talk. He confessed that he was sent by Sungchan.”

The news hits you like a punch to the gut and your heart sinks at the revelation, a sense of betrayal twisting in your chest. "Sungchan?" you whisper, your voice barely audible. "My own brother?"

Jake nods, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and concern. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't want to believe it either."

You sit up suddenly, a memory flooding back to you. "Oh my gosh," you gasp, your eyes wide with realization.

Jake sits up as well, worry etched across his features. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The night of the dinner party, the one where you proposed. Sungchan promised me he would do whatever it took to get me back home. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now.." Your voice trails off, tears welling up in your eyes as the pieces start to fall into place.

Jake wraps his arms around you, his touch warm and grounding. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I can't believe he'd go this far."

But you’re already moving, slipping out of bed and hurriedly getting dressed. “I have to meet with Sungchan. I need to know the truth.”

Jake is out of bed in an instant, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “No, it’s too dangerous. He’s already proven he’s willing to hurt you. He’s framing you for murder, for fuck’s sake.”

You shake your head, your resolve firm. “He’s my brother, Jake. He won’t hurt me. His goal isn’t to harm me, but to help me.”

“Things might have changed,” Jake argues, his grip tightening. “Especially if he’s the one who ordered the hit on us!”

You pull away, fear and impatience in your eyes. “I have to do this alone, Jake. Please, understand.”

Jake follows you as you head towards the door, desperation in his voice. “At least take Niki with you if you won’t take me.”

You stop for a moment, turning to face him. The pain in his eyes almost makes you reconsider, but you shake your head. “I need to do this alone, Jake. It’s the only way I’ll get answers.”

Without waiting for his response, you rush out of the house, grabbing your keys and heading to the car. Jake stands at the doorway, watching helplessly as you drive off, his worry and anger a palpable weight on his shoulders.

As you speed through the streets, your mind races with possibilities. Sungchan, your own brother, could be behind this entire mess. The thought tears at your heart, but you need to know the truth. You need to confront him and find out what’s really going on, no matter the cost.

You bang on the door to Sungchan’s apartment, anger, betrayal and fear all coursing through your body as you wait for him to respond.

“Fuck, wait a second.” You hear from the other side before the door is pulled open and you’re met with a disheveled looking Sungchan.

"____?" he says, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "What are you doing here?"

You step closer to his face, your eyes locking onto his.

"We need to talk, Sungchan. Now."

He steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice wary.

"You've been behind all of this, haven't you?" you say, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "The missing baggie boys, the attempt on my life, framing me for Chief Minho's murder?"

Sungchan's eyes widen in shock. "What are you talking about? I've been trying to protect you!"

"Protect me? By framing me for murder then sending me off to France?" you say, your voice rising. "How is that protection?"

"I didn't frame you for murder," he says, his voice honest. "I've been trying to find out who did. I called Anton to make preparations because I thought you were in danger, not because I wanted to take the fall!"

Sungchan's words hang in the air, a mix of desperation and sincerity. You feel a knot tightening in your stomach as you try to make sense of it all.

You take a step closer, your voice trembling.

"Sungchan, I need to understand. If you're not framing me, then who is?"

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not the one framing you…but I did bribe Chief Minho."

Your eyes widen in shock. "You what?"

"I bribed the Chief to cause more chaos for Jake, to distract him," Sungchan admits, his voice low and filled with anger. "I thought if Jake was preoccupied, it would buy me enough time to make the preparations to get you out of the country."

You feel a mix of anger and betrayal. "You bribed him to create chaos? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Sungchan looks away, guilt etched on his face. "I didn't call a hit on you, this is the first I'm even hearing about it. I would never go that far."

"Then who did?" you demand, your voice rising. "Who is trying to kill me and frame me for murder?"

"I don't know," Sungchan admits, his voice soft. "But I swear to you, it wasn't me."

The tension in the room is palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You search his eyes, looking for any sign of deception, but all you see is the brother you've always known, the brother who has always tried to protect you in his own misguided way.

"Why, Sungchan?" you ask, your voice breaking. "Why are you doing this?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes swirling with sadness.

"Because I'm trying to save you, ____. This life you're living, it's not safe. I just wanted to give you a chance to escape, to go to Paris like you always dreamed."

“If you thought I was in danger, why didn’t you come to me directly?” you demand, your voice shaking. “Why all this secrecy?”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened!” Sungchan replies, frustration creeping into his tone. “You’re so wrapped up in your new life with Jake, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

You shake your head, trying to comprehend. “So you thought the best way to protect me was to have me forcibly taken away from my home, my husband?”

Sungchan’s eyes narrow. “Would it really be so bad? Leaving Jake behind and going to Paris? That’s all you ever wanted, right? To leave and go to Paris with Anton and Haru. I’m doing you a favor.”

You recoil at his words, a wave of disgust washing over you. “A favor? How is sending me away from my husband a favor?”

Sungchan’s expression hardens. “Jake isn’t a good person, ____. Don’t you remember? You begged me to get you out of the engagement.”

Your anger flares. “That was before I knew him! Jaeyun is a good person, Sungchan. You don’t know him.”

“Jaeyun?” He spits out, “you’re on a first name basis now? Fucking great. He’s worse than our father,” Sungchan snaps. “Has he brainwashed you already?”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “I know what he does, I’ve seen it firsthand. I live with the man! But he’s never hurt me, and he’s made it very clear that he never will. That’s more than I can say for our father.”

Sungchan’s expression falters at the mention of your father. Memories of the abuse you both suffered flicker in his eyes, and he seems to deflate a bit, the fight going out of him.

“Please, Sungchan,” you beg, your voice softening. “Stop this. I can take care of myself.”

Sungchan’s face hardens again, and he shakes his head. “If I could, I would. But it’s out of my hands.”

He moves to open the door, his expression closed off. “You need to leave.”

You stare at him, disbelief and hurt welling up inside you. “Sungchan, please…”

He doesn’t respond, only gestures for you to go. You feel tears prick at your eyes as you step outside, the door closing behind you with a finality that breaks your heart.

You stand on his doorstep, tears streaming down your face, the weight of the betrayal crashing down on you. After what feels like an eternity, you force yourself to move, getting into your car and driving back home to Jake.

The drive is a blur of tears and painful memories. By the time you pull into the driveway, you’re exhausted, emotionally and physically. You stumble into the house, Jake rushing to meet you as soon as he hears the door.

“____,” he says, his voice full of concern. “What happened?”

You collapse into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Jake holds you tightly, his hand soothingly running up and down your back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a calming presence.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cry, your words muffled against his chest. “Sungchan… he’s behind everything. He wanted to send me away. He thinks he’s protecting me.”

Jake pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes. “Tell me everything,” he says softly.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Sungchan isn’t working alone. He told me he wasn’t behind the hit and my framing. I know my brother, Jake. He wasn’t lying. He’s working with someone else, I can feel it.”

Jake’s brow furrows. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he knew too much,” you explain. “There’s a mole within your circle. The chief went missing before he could carry out what Sungchan had paid him for, so that means someone else has been feeding him information.”

Jake’s expression darkens, but he nods. “I expected as much. The only people we can trust are Jay and Sunghoon.”

Just then, Jake’s phone rings. He answers it and puts it on speaker. “Sunghoon, what’s up?”

“Jake, you and ____ need to get to the safe house. Now,” Sunghoon’s urgent voice comes through the line.

You and Jake exchange glances before you both head to his car and drive off to the location. The tension in the car is palpable, but you remain silent, trying to process everything.

When you arrive at the safe house, Sunghoon is waiting for you. “What’s going on?” Jake asks as soon as you step inside.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on Sungchan like you asked,” Sunghoon begins, glancing briefly at you. Jake side-eyes you, but you’re not mad. You nod in understanding.

“It’s only expected with how Sungchan has been behaving,” you say quietly.

Sunghoon continues, “I had Sunoo tail him. Sungchan has been meeting up with Yerin for months, starting six months ago.”

Jake furrows his brows. “What do you mean? He's been meeting my stepmother?”

Jay steps in, his expression awkward and tense. “He’s been meeting her at hotels and bars. Sungchan has been sleeping with your stepmother, Jake.”

Your stomach churns with disgust at your brother’s actions. Jake looks dumbfounded. “Is Yerin the one behind everything?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief and anger.

Sunghoon nods. “From what we’ve gathered, it seems Yerin is the brains behind the operation. She’s been using Sungchan and Heeseung as her goons to carry out acts on the ground. I have no doubt she’s behind the chief’s death and you being framed for it.”

Jake’s jaw tightens as he processes this information. “What does Heeseung have to do with this?”

Sunghoon sighs. “When he ran into ____ at the police station, it was to have the lieutenant call in a fake witness for the chief’s murder case. He’s part of the reason why the cops have a solid case against ____.”

Jake’s anger flares, his fists clenching. “What now?”

You stand more confidently, meeting Jake’s gaze. “Send me in.”

taglist: @dreamiestay @inkpot-winters @minniejenseo @faithnsstuff @sumzysworld @sunpov @laurradoesloveu

[lilith-of-stardust]

Mrs Chapman's Boarding House is a venerable Fallen London institution where Londoners of all walks of life come and partake of the soup and lounge in the numerous parlors. That, however, was only after the Fall. Here stands Mrs Chapman's circa 1862, significantly more Euclidean in nature.

There were some poetic liberties taken to make the canon appearance of the house play nice with the physical limitations of the Sims (The attic room was at least two hours of my life...). The bottom four photos are the parlor, Archie's bedroom, Griz's desk, and the kitchen.

Mrs Chapman's Boarding House on the gallery or search user CrownedCorvine

Some other liberties & Easter eggs (& some spoilers!):

The canon appearance of the building is a triple decker; but in-game there's mention of how few rooms are currently available. Given that the attic room is very much not a part of the triple-decker setup, the building has been shortened to two full stories + attic. There is, however, an extra room, which begs the question: why did Moss need to take Archie's room...? I guess we'll never know. Perhaps Horatia had someone in mind she was keeping it open for.

As the heart of the house - in a manner of speaking - it stands to reason that Horatia would keep the room off of the kitchen for herself, though initially intended as a the servants' room.

Horatia strikes me as someone who would be at the vanguard of health and shell out for indoor plumbing the moment it was readily available; cleanliness is next to Godliness, after all. The main bathroom on the first floor has been expanded and had a soaking tub installed in recent years.

With the rest of the house heavily decorated and cozy, Horatia's bedroom is her space to reflect and clear her head, and therefore is sparse, save for a tin-type photo of her father above her bed.

There are no directly biblical art pieces in the Sims so instead of the lion and the lamb on the mantelpiece, I went with the rooster, which historically has been used as a symbol of recognizing one's own sins and seeking redemption in Christianity. I hope Horatia doesn't mind the replacement.

The mannequin is dressed in what I usually purchase for my MCs to wear in MotR: the taupe gentleman's greatcoat and top hat.

On the desk in the attic, there's a book from which a Sim can learn the spell "inferniate" - this is as close as I could get to a Sim being able to write sigils, which burn when written on normal paper.

Griz's grew up around tenant farmers and specifically mentions horses when you ask her about her childhood; the horse statue on her desk helps stave off the homesickness for greener pastures back on the estate, though it seldom strikes.

There are glasses on Archie's bedside table, referencing the fact if you pursue the manifesto plotline, he'll reward you with the dark posing spectacles.

Horatia is known for her cooking, and, when she can, she leaves baked goods in the parlor. Here, there are some Yorkshire puddings... or, if you're a nasty American like me, some popovers.

Of course, the Sims doesn't allow for strange sprawling and recursive architectury (yet) so I will not be attempting later iterations of Mrs Chapman's humble abode. :)

[lingering-nomad]

Seeing ppl complain that Astarion's non-evil-vampire-lord sex scene is fade-to-black while his evil overlord sex scene is... more explicit.

😕🙄🤦‍♀️

I know your average socmed user doesn't get metaphor, especially visual metaphor, but the depth of the media literacy crisis we are in will never cease to horrify me. Hope springs eternal, though, so lemme try to 'splain you the thing.

The use of the fade vs the active scene is fucking brilliant cinematography. It fades to black when Astarion fucks "on his own terms" because he is not performing for an audience anymore. He says in that scene that if he completed the ritual, he'd be trapped in the same grasp for power as Cazador was - "trapped" being the operative word. That's why his evil overlord scene doesn't fade. He's still performing, he's still playing a role, he's still looking for an audience to impress with his newfound might. That's why that scene is performed for an audience, i.e. the viewer.

I said ppl who play BG3 as a dating sim were going to walk away disappointed, and lo and behold. You wanted steamy vampire porn and got a thoughtful, insightful narrative about autonomy and freedom versus power and spectacle. Like... I'm sorry Astarion has his own story of self-actualization that doesn't revolve around him lusting after you your oc?? I understand it's a strain to be confronted with a narrative that expects the viewer to engage and think instead of being mindlessly indulged.

Yeah, you're mad cos you didn't get your rocks off, but to start accusing the writers of "misogyny"?? Really? We're going there?

[cool-content-star]

Eva Longoria's Gown from Vanity Fair 2024

Eva Longoria's Metallic Hourglass Jewelry Gown from Vanity Fair 2024

 It’s a dazzling ensemble that features a sea of sequins, covering the dress in a shimmering spectacle that catches the light with every movement. The backless design adds a contemporary edge, perfect for those Sims looking to make a statement at any high-profile event or a magical evening affair. It’s a gown that promises to steal the spotlight and leave a lasting impression. ✨👗🌃

Dress in 22 colors

Notes:

New mesh

All Lods

Custom thumbnail

HQ Compatible

Base game compatible

FREE DOWNLOAD

❤️ With love ❤️ I hope you like it! ❤️

[rainybubbles]

10 A.M- Ghost x plus size reader

-Summary : Every day on leave Ghost watches his neighbor at 10AM during his smoke break. Will it lead to more ? (yes, especially with Johnny involed.)

-(Sorry in advance, English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad or OOC. And I've posted it on ao3 months ago, so it's normal if you feel like a déjà vu)

-10 am. The ballet was starting.

-A foot missing a step, a groan of pain, clothes thrown on the ground, and an apple bitten into hastily. Breakfast was beginning, and the curtain rose, giving Simon the perfect view of his neighbor's daily spectacle across the landing.

-Eyes so sunken they rivaled his own, hands with nails cut short—Simon wondered why so short, perhaps their job? A habit? And their body, all curves.

-That's what had caught his attention in the hallway the first time.

-Such a ominous building welcoming such a pure ray of sunshine like them, Simon couldn't help but bask in their warmth from the shadows.

-A glint in a corridor had eventually become a routine. When Simon smoked on his balcony, they would open their curtains, and slowly, without knowing it, their routines became intertwined at certain hours of the day, briefly filling Simon's respites with a bit of humanity.

-"What are ye lookin’ at?"

-"Nothing that concerns you, Johnny."

-"L.T, come on." Johnny, curious, stepped onto the balcony, but they were already gone.

-"I’ve put up with you enough, stop pokin’ your nose in."

-"Ye volunteered when Price asked who could help me with my cast during our leave. Because Gaz was with his fiancée and Price with his sister. That's friendship."

-"Pity," Ghost corrected him.

-"It still means I make ye feel things, L.T."

-"Yes, and it's exasperation."

-"Seriously, what were ye starin’ at? I mean, apart from the poor garden, there's nothin’."

-Simon ignored him. One word and he knew what Johnny would say.

-"Talk to them. You have nothing to lose."

-Worse, the Scotsman might set up a situation where he'd end up stuck in an elevator with them. The explosives expert knew much more about physics and math than he let on.

-"By th’ way, have ye ever had someone in yer life, L.T.?"

-“…”

-"I see, we're playin’ neither yes nor no?"

-"We're playin’ 'no personal questions.'"

-"I'll tak’ that as a yes. Ah wonder whit yer type is? Redhead? Blonde? Brunette? Tall? Short? Or maybe brown, green, blue, gray eyes?"

-"People who don't ask questions."

-"Damn, rejected like that."

-"That's enough, Johnny."

-"Okay, I… would ye introduce me if ye ever had someone in yer life, no?"

-"No."

-"What?! Come on, I'm adorable!"

-"And invasive."

-"I left a sock lyin’ around one time." Soap remembered the incident.

-"In a frying pan."

-"It was an accident."

-Ghost sighed. His gaze shifted to the window; damn, he wished he could catch a glimpse of them for a moment, to gain some strength. As if his prayer had been heard, the window opened, their head appeared, watering their plants.

-"I see, so it wasn't just a cigarette," Johnny said with a smug smile.

-Unfortunately, that also meant they'd just watered trouble for Ghost.

-"Johnny."

-"I'm just saying they’re beautiful, that's all."

-"Not a word."

-"So… the curves?"

-"Johnny," Simon repeated, annoyed.

-"Okay, not a word."

-A silence fell, but Simon couldn't stand Soap's trembling leg.

-"One question." He eventually gave in.

-"How long?"

-"None."

-"What?"

-"We're not dating."

-"So a crush, huh?"

-"We're not in high school anymore."

-"But ye have a crush on yer neighbor like a teenager."

-"Johnny," Simon warned him.

-Soap backed off before grinning smugly.

-"I get it, I'd be the same if they were my neighbor, they seem cute," he added

-"Johnny, damn it," Ghost sighed, his cheeks slightly tinged with red.

-Soap laughed.

-"It's cute. I guess ye won't talk tae them?"

-"No. Not with our profession, not with my personality. they deserve better."

-"Even fur one night?"

-"I don't want a one-night stand, not with them."

-"I see, condemned to yearn, a wee bit sad."

-Simon didn't reply; it was his routine. Observe, analyze, and act. His strategy had been clear from the start: do nothing.

-So he finished his cigarette, hoping it would be 10 am again soon to relive this peaceful anticipation. The sun set, and it all began again.

-5 am, wake up. 6 am, jogging. 7 am, back, ready to take a shower and face Johnny.

-"Oh, sorry."

-But sometimes routines break. Simon watched his neighbor, struggling to move a too-heavy piece of furniture up the stairs.

-"Can I help you?"

-"I… I don't want to bother you, especially since you just came back from exercising—"

-"It's nothing."

-He carried what looked like a wardrobe to their landing.

-"Thanks again. I… I don't know if you knew, but we're neighbors. My name's y/n, I moved in there after Matilda. I know they wasn't… well-liked?"

-"We could say that."

-"No need to downplay it; I know they threw tomatoes at all the doors, ripped up their garbage on all the landings, and dismantled a door by mistake."

-"Hm."

-"I mean, at 80, it's impressive," y/n laughed.

-"For sure," he chuckled.

-"So, you're Smith, right?"

-Oh yes, the fake name on his mailbox.

-"Yeah."

-"Well, thank you, Mr. Smith. Honestly, I don't know how I would've managed without you. I told my roommate that having such a big wardrobe was pointless, but they never listens to me."

-"Roommate?"

-"Yeah, she lives with me. their name's Léa, maybe you've met her? Tall, blonde."

-"Hm."

-"She always wakes up late, and I wake up early, so we kind of live in the dark in the apartment, like real vampires. Perhaps you know her ?"

-"Thank you, Léa," Simon thought. Without her, he'd never catch sight of y/n on their balcony.

-"No, I don't think so."

-"I see. Do you have a roommate too?"

-"At the moment, yes, but it's temporary."

-"Oh, I see, a friend crashing. Happens."

-"Actually, he takes care o’ me," a voice said.

-If Simon could slow down his reaction, he'd be sure to see panic. Johnny, smiling, approached and introduced himself.

-"John, nice tae meet ye. This big guy keeps an ee on me, wi’ ma broken arm."

-"Oh, I see, that's not easy. Nice to meet you."

-"Ye ken, I was plannin’ tae make some muffins; I thought if ye like them, we could maybe give ye some since this guy doesnae like sweet stuff."

-"Johnny."

-"What, you don't like them?" y/n asked, surprised.

-"I… it's not my thing, that's all."

-"I see," y/n smiled. "Why not, okay, well, I mean don't poison us, but okay."

-"I'm no’ sure that would convince anyone no’ tae poison ye," John replied.

-"Maybe, but does it work on you?"

-"Aye," Johnny laughed.

-y/n thanked them and closed their door. Soap, with a victorious smile, looked at Simon.

-"Don't start."

-"We're makin’ progress, L.T, recon mission wit’ introduction."

-"This isn't a mission."

-"Of course, it is. Gaz agrees wi’ me."

-"Gaz knows?!"

-"It's the 21st century, L.T, phones are magical."

-"No."

-"By the way, if they ask for yer number, ye'll have to give them one that's not disposable…"

-"There won't be a number."

-"I bet there will be; they seem nice."

-"They thanked me for a favor; it's just politeness."

-"If ye say so."

-"Nothing's going to happen, Johnny."

-"We'll see."

---------------------

-"I was thinking we should exchange numbers! It's always handy, for dog sitting, plant watering, breakdowns, broken showers, or anything else."

-Soap looked at him triumphantly. Certainly, it wasn't y/n asking, but Léa, after accepting their muffins and inviting them inside. But Soap saw the papers with the two different numbers, indicating that y/n's was included.

-"For sure, but isn't a roommate kind o’ a hassle? I mean, I remember wi’ other folk’s boyfriends an’ girlfriends, it can get awkward," Soap asked.

-"For that, there would have to be some," Simon replied.

-"What dae ye mean?" "Well, I'm not interested, and y/n… they…"

-Léa seemed hesitant.

-"New acquaintances aren't really their thing, with social anxiety, you know."

-Simon raised an eyebrow. they had seemed so calm. He was also accustomed to social avoidance, so y/n's reaction to him surprised him, unless they had grown accustomed to his presence before. But that would mean he was a familiar face to them. Which would imply…

-That at 10 am, he wasn't the only one watching.

-A warm feeling filled his heart.

-"Why are ye smiling?" Soap murmured as they returned to his apartment. "It's bad news if they's as bad as you at talking, you'll be together when Price runs out of beanies to wear."

-"Hm, if you say so."

-"L.T, tell me, I ken ye ken something."

-"Soap, it's none of your business."

-"The code name, really?"

- "Johnny."

- "Simon."

-Neither broke eye contact; Johnny eventually sighed and raised his only free hand in surrender. Ghost nodded.

-He looked forward to the next 10 am.

________________________________

-At 10 am, with a cigarette in his mouth, they were there. their eyes on their hands. He smiled. Target acquired. How could he have missed it?

-Using his hands, he executed a slight sign of recognition. they jumped, surprised he had noticed them; he smirked. they responded with a hand waving back. He signaled for them to open the window.

-"Nice view?" he asked.

-"On such a shabby garden, no," they replied, ignoring his implication.

-"I meant the neighborhood.”

-"Well, not everyone can have a balcony."

-"Or a pretty neighbor."

-"I—"

-"Have a good day, y/n." He went back inside.

-Nothing will happen, my ass, Soap muttered as he watched him.

_______________________________

-Slowly, it became his game. Spotting y/n, signaling to them, and lightly flirting.

-It was nothing. Just a game of cat and mouse, that's all. It wouldn't lead to anything, he kept telling himself. But every day he waited for them.

-Praying that Price wouldn't call him. But apparently this time his thoughts weren't heard; Soap was sent to the base under someone else's watch, and Price called him for a mission. 10 a.m. should wait.

____________________

-"Mr. Smith?"

-Tired. Covered in mud, smelling of powder. Simon was back after three months, his eyes empty, his face covered, only his eyes remained. y/n stood in the hall, in pajamas, letters in hand, probably looking for their mail at... 1 a.m.? Who would do that?

-"y/n.”

-“ Everything alright? You're soaked. You know if you have a dryer problem, we have one."

-"Everything's fine."

-"I see. I... I got worried because I didn't see you around, I wondered if something happened to you."

-His cowardly heart quickened at this concern.

-"It was nothing, just work."

-"I see, you travel a lot then."

-"Yeah, you could say that."

-"Must be tiring, never... feeling at home, right?"

-Simon couldn't get a word in. He had never thought about it, in his childhood home, his sanctuary, he had never thought about it as his home, so as he grew up, he had no attachment to a place.

-"Not really."

-"Not a homebody?"

-"Yeah, but just a bit."

-"I... sorry, I'm asking questions while you're exhausted, I'm really sorry."

-"No need to apologize, such a pretty face coming home erases all fatigue."

-they frowned their eyebrows..

-"Do you mean that or is it for Léa?"

-Simon was surprised by the sharper tone.

-"Léa?"

-"If you want to get closer to Léa, please don't use me. I... honestly, all this flirting is confusing, if it's her, then don't use me."

-"I don't want Léa."

-"Oh." y/n paused, “then why?"

-"I don't know, why do people flirt, y/n?"

-"You."

-"Me."

-"So all this time..."

-"I'm eagerly waiting for 10 a.m., y/n."

-"I-, I'm sorry, I just thought you really liked Léa, I let my insecurities take over without even thinking about that, and I apologize for that."

-"No worries, now everything is clear. Goodnight y/n and see you tomorrow morning."

-"See you tomorrow morning, Mr. Smith."

-"Simon."

-"Hm?"

-"Call me Simon."

-Maybe Soap was right; he knew from the beginning that this wouldn't just be a flirt.

______________________________

-At 10 a.m., Simon noticed a blanket on his balcony. Hand-knitted with a post-it.

-"I'm not there today, but you seemed cold in the morning, so welcome back and have a good day."

-Slowly, he took the soft fabric. Draping it over his shoulders, he closed his eyes, letting the nicotine escape from his mouth.

-He knew he shouldn't. A part of him screamed not to trust, to flee. But he was so tired. He, too, wanted to go home and have that smile.

-Suddenly, the blanket felt too cold, the nicotine too bitter, and the balcony too narrow.

-What was he doing dreaming of a normal life?

-Simon was officially dead, flesh living for a task force. He shouldn't even think of the hope of surviving long. He had given up on that. Slowly, he placed the blanket back on the balcony. The window was closing. He decided that maybe the 10 a.m. breaks weren't a good idea.

___________________________

-"You ken, it's no’ Pokémon, L.T."

-"Johnny," Ghost calibrated his rifle as the car swerved through the bends.

-"What's he talking about?" Gaz, in uniform beside them, ready for the mission, asked.

-"Our dear L.T. fled like a Pokémon facin’ its neighbor."

-"My life is none of your business."

-"Ye're missin’ something extraordinary, obviously. They just told ye it's mutual, an’ there ye are, runnin’ away. Imagine what ye’re sayin’ tae them."

-"It's better for them."

-"Coward."

-Simon looked away. It was better this way. Proof was, he was off again to risk his life for two months. No one wanted a life like this.

-y/n didn't know about Ghost, didn't know about the PTSD, about Tommy, about Joseph. He was just the slightly mysterious neighbor from the balcony.

-"They know nothing, it's better this way."

-"Maybe he's right, Soap. Some people aren't meant to be with soldiers," Gaz tried to reason.

-"He's just using runnin’ away as a defense mechanism, Gaz."

-Simon ignored the rest. The voices were blurring. He had to stay away from y/n; their warmth could burn him if he got too close.

_______________________

-Dead.

-He held the dead girl's body in his arms.

-Riddled with bullets, their poor little hands weakly holding onto Ghost's uniform in a last hope for life.

-The blood on his hands wouldn't go away. He washed, scrubbed, scraped, over and over.

-The blood remained on his hands.

-He had to save them.

-He had failed.

-The mission was a success.

-But everyone was dead.

-The coldness of the body wouldn't go away.

-The shower didn't help; no matter how hard he scrubbed, increasing the heat, nothing could rid him of the horror.

-His breathing wouldn't calm, his vision darkening, his legs trembling.

-He knew what was happening.

-Slowly he sat on the floor, the sound of water deafening, his ears ringing, the hot and cold alternating in his body, sweat increasing. A panic attack.

-"One, two, three." He repeated. Trying to calm himself, he began counting again. One, two, three.

-But the numbers tangled, and the memories seemed so real. The girl's body seemed to be at his feet. He knew it was impossible; he was in a shower, in a terrible apartment, not on the battlefield. But nothing could be done about it.

-"Mr. Smith?"

-Everything shattered. His bubble burst, and suddenly reality hit him. Getting up, staggering, he grabbed a towel and walked to his front door out of habit.

-"Yes?" he managed to say, his hoarse voice scratching his throat.

-"I'm sorry to interrupt, but our shower exploded, and I was wondering if you knew about it or if you could let me borrow yours because I... I'm a bit covered in ink."

-He opened his door completely, and...

-y/n, hands covered in blue ink, even their nose staring at him wide-eyed. Remembering his attire consisting only of a towel, he closed the door.

-"I'll get dressed and be right there."

-"Yes, I- sorry again, I didn't know you were in the shower."

-He didn't reply. Damn it, he had promised not to let their into his life.

-Putting on a hoodie and sweatpants, he opened his door.

-"On the left at the back." He indicated in a slightly dry tone. His thoughts still roughed up after his panic attack.

-Noticing that y/n wasn't moving, he frowned.

-"I wanted to know if I offended you? I don't know if I'm imagining something, but it looks like you're avoiding me?"

-Not as discreet as he thought.

-"I was busy."

-"I see. If I offended you anyway, I apologize."

-"It's not your fault, y/n."

-"Oh."

-"Just... shitty job."

-"PTSD?"

-Simon stopped.

-"The walls are thin, you can hear the girl from the fifth floor sneezing, so you can imagine that your screams at night..." She added.

-"I see."

-"My father had it too, if you ever need help, well not psychological help, that's more for a therapist, but support, I can." y/n said anxiously.

-He blew air out of his nose.

-"Military father?"

-"Cop," they replied.

-Simon noticed the underlying tension.

-"Not on good terms?"

-"Few people get along with their father, right?"

-"Some do."

-"Do you?"

-"No."

-They smiled.

-"To rotten fathers, then.

-“To rotten fathers. Now I suppose you should hurry if you don't want the ink to dry on your hands."*

- "Oh shit, yeah."

-Y/n rushed into the shower. When they returned a few moments later, Simon watched them.

-"Any reason for this ink explosion?"

-"It's ridiculous,”they said, but Simon motioned for them to sit down.

-"Go ahead."

- "I like... tattooing. I don't have the talent, but I like to try tattooing fake skins in my spare time, but my blue ink exploded so I tried to use the shower but it looks like we have a plumbing problem."

-"Tattooing?"

-"Yeah, but it's nothing crazy, just a hobby."

-He nodded.

-"Well, I'll get going." they murmured.

-Ghost wanted to hold their back. His hand reaching out reflexively, he thought better of it.

_______________________________

-"So?"

-"So what? Didn't you listen to Price during the briefing?" Ghost replied to Soap.

-"Ah’m nae talkin’ about that, but the GIL mission."

-"Gil?"

-"Ghost in love."

-"I'm not in love."

-"Hmm, so nae progress wi’ the neighbor?"

-"Soap."

-The Scot stopped. Feeling the blue-eyed gaze not leaving him for a moment, Ghost sighed.

-"We talked again."

-"Ah!"

-“Shower problem, they needed one."

-"Is that it?"

-"We're neighbors."

-"That's disappointin’."

-"Thanks, Johnny." Ghost replied sarcastically.

-Simon spared the details. It wasn't just a shower, but a shower during the two weeks of leave he had had.

-With the plumber unable to find the problem, y/n and Léa had somewhat cohabited with Simon for that brief moment. Maybe... he had shared more teas with y/n than he admitted.

-Even if he wanted to flee, to shut himself off, to reject y/n, he crawled for a crumb of their attention.

_____________

-Returning from his mission, Simon walked through the hall when he heard it. Cries echoing in the corridor.

-His landing.

-Knowing that Madeline, the other neighbor on the landing, couldn't cry due to death, it was either Léa or y/n.

-Approaching, he noticed a silhouette sitting on the doormat. y/n. they seemed to be trying to pick up debris from the floor, their hands bleeding.

-Worried at the sight of the red liquid, he walked towards them without thinking, examining their wounds. Pieces of metal and glass were in their hand.

-"Simon," they managed to articulate between sobs.

-"What happened?"

-"It's stupid, honestly, I'm ridiculous crying over this, but... a box fell and broke my tattoo machine. I know I could buy a new one, but that... it broke me?"

-Ghost was relieved it wasn't anything serious. He nodded.

-"It's not a big deal, it's your passion."

-"I know, but an artist doesn't cry when they run out of lead with their pencil."

-"Well, then they should invest in tons of tissues," Simon joked.

-They laughed through the tears.

-"It's just... everything, I guess. I'm tired, I have a shitty job, I thought I'd finally make it with my fake skins, and now my machine breaks like a sign."

-"Not a sign," Simon said. "Don't give up. Now let me look at this; we'd want to avoid infection and stitches."

-They nodded and followed Simon into his apartment. Ghost's expert hands treating theirs.

-"The tattoo," Simon began. "It's not just a passion, is it?"

-"I... it was my dream for a while."

-"'Was'?"

-"My parents wanted something safe, I didn't know anatomy, people drew better than me. At 13, I was the artist of the class, the little prodigy, at 18 I was just an artist like everyone else. I had nothing... extraordinary, so I gave up."

-Simon nodded.

-"I don't think so," he finally added, finishing their bandage.

-"What?"

-"That you gave up. You may think so, but practicing so hard, continuing to do it every day, it seems like you've always held on."

-"I... never saw it like that."

-"Plus, who wouldn't dream of being tattooed by an angel?"

-"Simon!"

-He smiled.

-"I missed... our exchanges," they whispered.

-He stopped.

-"Me too."

-"Okay, so are we starting fresh? No more running away?"

-"I can't promise that."

-"Oh."

-"I was talking about constant exchange, I've been... an asshole thinking I was doing the right thing, but it seems obvious that no matter my efforts, our paths intersect."

-"So you'll stop running?" y/n asked, their eyes meeting his.

-"For now," Simon finally said.

-"I see, cool," y/n said.

-"Cool," he repeated, squeezing their hand.

-They got up and left. Simon let his eyes wander over their curves.

-Fuck.

_____________

- "Not a word, Johnny," Ghost said, putting his things down.

-"I didnae say anythin’!" the Scotsman complained, entering the briefing room.

-"I know what you were going to ask, and no."

-"So it's progressin’."

-"Johnny."

-"Okay. Just... ye're allowed tae be happy, L.T."

-"Hm."

-Simon avoided his gaze, his attention on Price. The captain questioned Simon with his eyes, Simon indicated with the same look that he would explain later.

________________

-“Ten o'clock breaks are nicer on a balcony."

-"Really? I thought you preferred waking up in the dark and stumbling around looking for your window," Ghost joked.

-y/n laughed. "Mean. It's cool to see the other side," they said, blowing on the tea Ghost had made.

-Sitting across from him, Simon could get used to it. A morning shared together, a breakfast enjoyed. The sun bathing their face, their hair tousled from waking up...

-"Hm, better than spying?"

-"You're the one who was stalking me."

-"You were doing the same."

-"But I wasn't looking at the other with a murderous look, I thought you hated me at first."

-"Really?"

-"Yes. I mean, I'm not the sexiest view in the world, so I thought you hated seeing me when you smoked. I even tried to shift my hours so you wouldn't see me."

-He laughed. "You're the sexiest view there is, y/n."

-"Wrong, there's Megan thee Stallion."

-"Hm, second view then."

-His phone beeped. Simon sighed.

-"Is it work?"

-"Yes."

-"You're leaving?"

-"In two days."

-"I guess you can't tell me where."

-"No."

-"Or how long."

-"Hm."

-"So, two months."

-"What?"

-"Well, if you can't say anything, I can imagine it, right? Like your mask, I never knew why, so I imagined you had vampire teeth."

-"Vampire teeth?" Simon mocked.

-"You never went out except at night, you came back late, your blinds were always closed, and your pale skin, what else could I think?"

-"Ill?"

-"..."

-"Hypochondriac? Scars?"

-"Okay, my theory was dumb, no need to twist the knife, Simon."

-He snorted.

-"You're beautiful without it," y/n finally added.

-"I know."

-"Fuck you, Simon, I'm trying to flirt."

-"Hm, 'trying' is the right word."

-"Simon."

-"Fine, 'thank you, y/n', is that better?"

-"Yes."

-Simon winked at them, y/n rolled their eyes.

-"By the way, I have a package arriving on Friday," Simon said.

-"And?"

-"It's for you."

-"A gift? But I didn't do anything."

-"That's the point of a gift, y/n. Plus, I know your birthday is coming soon."

-"Léa?"

-"Your ID."

-"How did you get it?"

-"I needed to check who you were," Simon lied.

-"...Léa," he eventually admitted.

-"I thought so."

-"Happy early birthday."

-"Thank you, Simon."

-And there, Simon wanted to engrave this image of their smile.

__________________

-Alone, lost in the forest, waiting for the target, Simon wondered what y/n was doing. Was they sleeping? Had they opened their gift? Did they like it?

-His thoughts stopped, focused on the mission, with a new desire. The desire to go home.

-To go home. To y/n.

_________________

-"Simon!"

-Tired, jet lag leaving his body heavy, but his eyes squinted at the sight of them.

-"y/n."

-"I..."

-They seemed hesitant to hug him, not quite sure what to do. Simon wanted it.

-"Oh damn, hugging y/n, melting into their warmth, leaving his hands on their curves, their thighs so soft, their hair."

-"Hug okay?" they asked.

-"More than okay."

-"Sure? I know it's not your thing, so it's not obligatory."

-"y/n, I'm sure."

-they nodded and hugged him. their scent filling his nostrils, Simon let go of his bag, letting his arms wrap around them. An embrace comforting him, finally stopping this fatigue. Ghost could leave to let Simon come home.

-"Welcome back," y/n murmured into the embrace.

-"I'm back," he whispered back.

-"I missed you. I... thank you for your gift. I... you're crazy to have spent so much, a machine of this quality..."

-"I intend to let my second sleeve be done by you."

-y/n backed away, surprised.

-"Simon, you don't even know my tattoo style."

-"And?"

-"Imagine if I'm into kawaii? Or a cute colorful Hello Kitty watercolor?"

-"Then I'll have a magnificent Hello Kitty," Simon replied.

-they laughed.

-"That would suit you well."

-"Without a doubt."

-"I might do that when I get my certification."

-"Wait, certification?"

-"I passed the hygiene certification. It's time I stop putting myself down. If I'm a failed artist, well, at least I'll be an artist."

-Simon smiled.

-"I'll be your first fan."

-"Léa is already there."

-"I already have to fight for you, damn."

-"I'm popular, you'll have to get used to it."

-He smiled.

-"Well, I'll let you go home. Good night, I suppose." y/n smiled and went home.

-He nodded and went into his apartment. However, he stopped.

-"y/n?"

-"Hm?"

-The words didn't come. Ask them to stay for what? Tea? Talk? He felt so pathetic.

-But y/n seemed to read him and took his hand, leading him into his apartment. Guiding him to his bed, they lay down beside him. Their bodies still clothed under the sheets drew closer.

-"I didn't imagine the first time in your bed like this."

-"Really?"

-"Hm, yes. I imagined a bit more warmth."

-"The heating is there."

-"Oh, shut up, Simon, you know that's not what I meant," y/n said, laughing.

-He nodded. His hands finding their place on y/n's body, embracing them.

-"My thighs aren't stress balls, Simon."

-"No, they're perfection incarnate. So soft, trembling, they're perfect."

-"It's fat."

-"Exactly."

-y/n chuckled and relaxed into his arms.

-"Does this mean something, us?" they murmured.

-"Yes."

-Not another question, and Simon fell into a deep sleep.

-Waking up, y/n in his arms, Simon decided he didn't want to wake up without their anymore. Enjoying the brief moments of peace, he let his thumbs trace circles on their back.

-"Hey," they murmured.

-"Hey."

-"Did you sleep well?"

-"Yes."

-"Simon, you have to let me go if we're going to get up."

-"Why get up?"

-"To eat?"

-His stomach answered for him. Simon sighed and got up.

______________________________

-"L.T., how dare ye?"

-"Soap."

-"Why?!"

-"Why what?" Simon asked, irritated, looking up from his reports.

-"Ye slept wi’ them!"

-"How do you know that?"

-"Ye smell good."

-Simon frowned.

-"So, I don't smell good usually?"

-"Na, ye smell like aftershave, but now it's soft."

-"Yes, I slept with them. Need details?"

-"AYE!"

-"Well, you won't get any. It was platonic, nothing sexual."

-"...so a nap."

-"Yes, McTavish, a nap."

-"...damn it, L.T., that's disappointin’."

-"I don't care."

-"Invite me tae the weddin’ in a century then."

-"You won't be invited."

-"You love me too much for that, L.T.!"

-"In your dreams, McTavish."

______________________

-"So, a lovebird in your life?"

-"Not you too, Cap."

-"I'm just curious, Simon. I know how closed off you are."

-"They're the one, sir."

-"Nice?"

-"They understand PTSD and all that shit."

-"Hm, so one to keep."

-"To marry."

-"Good luck, Simon."

-"Thanks, Cap."

----

-"Simon?"

-Blood. y/n, dead. Simon standing over their body.

-Gasping, he stood at his door, needing to know, to touch them, to prove they were alive.

-He hugged their, checking their pulse. It wasn't an illusion; they were there.

-"Simon, five things you see," y/n murmured, understanding he was there without being there.

-"You, my hands, your doormat, your coat, and your slippers," Simon eventually articulated.

-"Four things you touch."

-"y/n."

-"Simon, focus."

-"Your hair, your neck, your hips, your shoulders, your cheek."

-"Three things you hear."

-"Your pulse, my pulse, your voice."

-"Two things you smell."

-"My sweat, your perfume."

-"One thing you taste."

-"My blood."

-y/n nodded, and Simon opened his mouth, his teeth so tight he had bitten his tongue. His breath, still shaky, was calming.

-"I'm there," y/n murmured, not moving from his embrace.

-"Do you want to talk about it?" they asked.

-"No."

-"Let's sit on my couch, better than standing at the entrance of the apartment, okay?"

-Simon didn't let go of them for a moment.

-Hours passed, nothing could calm his paranoia.

-"You haven't shaved," y/n murmured.

-Simon couldn't articulate, he just nodded.

-"Can I do it for you? I know under your mask, it must feel better when you're clean-shaven."

-He nodded again. Slowly they guided him into their tiny bathroom, shaving him precisely, calmly, in a soothing silence. His eyes never leaving their face, Simon wanted to scream, cry, shake them, show them he was broken, reject them, make them run away but...

--they were there. Not forcing him to talk, letting him slowly come back down, anchoring him to reality.

-"You know, sunscreen and moisturizer would help your skin a lot," they murmured as they applied the lotions to his face slowly.

-"Especially with your chalky complexion," they added, chuckling.

-That sound, so soft, calmed his heart.

-"Okay," he managed to say.

-"I'll buy you some."

-"...Thank you."

-"Thank you for everything, for the crisis, for the beard, for the lotions, for not asking questions, for welcoming me into your life."

-"You're welcome," they replied, understanding the implication.

__________________________

-"I got rejected," y/n murmured.

-It was 10 a.m., they were on their balcony, the rain falling, they were sheltered.

-"None?"

-"No tattoo parlor accepted me for apprenticeship. Maybe I'm not good enough."

-"Or they're just blind."

-"Simon."

-"You'll make it, y/n," Simon murmured, taking their hand.

-"Maybe, but I... don't feel legitimate to continue."

-"Van Gogh was considered worthless all his life."

-"I hope to have recognition before death, Si'," y/n said, laughing.

-"And there it is, the smile suits you better."

-"Thank you, Si'."

-"Always there."

-they nodded.

___________________________

-"Si'."

-Late at night, in front of a cheap show, they were on their couch.

-"Hm?"

-"Are you... attracted to me?"

-"y/n."

-"I don't want big words, it's just... I don't want to be with someone who loves my personality and accepts my body out of pity. Not feeling desired, I know what that's like, feeling like a second option too, and I've never... addressed the subject with you. Being with a fat person is something different, the looks of others... it's something. And I don't want to be a secret or a shame."

-Simon observed them.

-"So I've been shitty."

-"What?"

-"Because every step, every breath, every part of you ignites a burning desire in me, y/n. I've been shitty at showing it if you think for a moment that every inch of you, every roll, every stretch mark isn't something I love about you."

-their breath caught for a moment.

-"I want to touch you, taste you, let your plump thighs around my head as I kiss you, I want to feel that belly with every bounce when we make love, I want to kiss this body."

-"I- I just wanted a yes, Simon," y/n replied, their voice rising in pitch, their gaze shifting away from the sudden warmth in the room.

-"Well, you have it," Simon added, a predatory look in his eyes.

-"Yes."

-The silence stretched.

-"Aren't you going to do anything, y/n?"

-y/n leaned in.

-"Yes."

-they kissed him.

_____________________

-"L.T., thanks again for coming."

-"No one wanted to miss this, McTavish," Price added.

-"A Scottish Hello Kitty tattoo, that's not to be missed, that's for sure," Gaz said as he entered the small salon.

-The place was peaceful, comfortable. A young woman greeted them and guided them to the artist's station.

-The men settled. Soap in the chair, the others on the chairs to support him.

-"Hello everyone."

-Price and Gaz greeted the tattoo artist, but Soap spoke up.

-"YOU BASTARD! YE DIDN'T TELL ME!"

-"Soap, what's-" Price began.

-"I don't need help, Johnny, I told you."

-"Ye didnae tell me, it's horrible, I was waitin’ and ye two, ye... how long?" he asked y/n.

-"Six months."

-"SIX MONTHS?!"

-"Wait, you're..."

-"y/n, meet Gaz Kyle Garrick and John Price. This is y/n, my lover."

-"Pleased to meet you," Price said, shaking their hand. "I'm surprised this big guy managed to find someone as lovely as you."

-"Thank you."

-"Six months," Soap repeated.

-"I wanted to tell you, but we wanted to take our time and with all my paperwork to find an apprenticeship and a place, I didn't realize how time passed," y/n admitted.

-"Wait, ye’re an apprentice?" Soap asked, terrified.

-"Yes, but don't worry, I'm not doing your tattoo today. I'm just preparing the equipment," y/n joked.

-"Oh, nae that I dinnae trust ye but-"

-"Don't worry."

-At 10 a.m., lost in a tattoo parlor watching Johnny get a Scottish Hello Kitty, y/n by his side, and Gaz and Price smiling.

-Ghost had finally found a new meaning to home, and he wouldn't leave it for anything in the world.

[gwynndolin]

Screenshotting and posting myself to avoid having to subject miss punkitt to any potential resulting discourse

I think the “blame” has come down to Mojang, being a Microsoft property, and always needing to make money, must always be updating the game. And it creates a weird scenario where they must continue to add content, but have not really decided on an actual direction; the updates have become vapid and fluffy.

Vapid and fluffy would NOT usually be an issue, Minecraft has ultimately become a “pointless” game, in the same way that Animal Crossing is a “pointless" game. So content gets added with no real gameplay value, but since Minecraft has become a "pointless game", the valueless content must be defended as "Not everything needs to have a use!", which is true! But...

Minecraft's original gameplay is to exploit all of the resources around you and to use them to do Minecraft colonizing. Minecraft has contradicted its core gameplay by adding things that are not able to be exploited (no use value), or only have a promise of becoming exploitable, but ultimately get dropped when the next major update starts being worked on. No one is logging on to play Minecraft to see a sniffer, people want to do the Minecraft colonization. So the question then becomes "Why does Mojang bother with these updates that aren't with any clear intention to add onto the gameplay? Players clearly don't want this, so why continue?"

I think ultimately, the banal, directionless nature of the recent Minecraft updates is less indicative of a desire to add interesting spectacle and more of a loss of drive. I think Minecraft needs to be put to rest. Mojang needs to put a pin in it and say "We're done, this isn't what we're interested in working on any longer (ostensibly), and we feel stifled by how limiting the framework of Minecraft has become and desire to move on to different projects".

So, when you consider that survival games (or at least variations in the genre are, simulation, colony builders, farming sims, etc.) are still one of the most popular genres on Steam, I think saying "Minecraft is itself, conceptually, to blame for getting stale" is a much smaller portion of the picture; Mojang has the opportunity to keep the game interesting, they simply have not, be it poor priorities, low resources, lack of desire, lack of confidence, a limiting engine.

All that said, I know the recent snapshots have been working on reworking the NBT data system for all items in the game into something more accessible, allowing for ease of use in data packs and probably mods too. And maybe this is a hot take, but I think that this is all they should be focusing on at this point. I think if Mojang is interested at all in maintaining their (dwindling) playerbase, they should be going all in on optimizing for external player creation and allow for players to revitalize the game themselves, instead of wasting resources on trying to come up with a new flower to put in, or something.

[mathmodder]

🎈🍔 Introducing Street Food Spectacle mod for The Sims 3! 🍟🎉 Watch the trailer here

Looking to add a dash of excitement to your Sims' dining experiences? Look no further! With the Street Food Spectacle mod, your Sims can now enjoy a whole new level of culinary delight with food trucks that come equipped with a unique twist!

🚚 Food Truck Fun: When your Sim purchases a delicious treat from one of the bustling food trucks around town, they won't just walk away with a tasty meal. Instead, they'll be handed a whimsical balloon to accompany their snack!

🎈 Balloon Bonanza: As your Sim indulges in their delectable dish, watch as the balloon floats merrily above, adding a touch of festivity to their dining experience. But the fun doesn't end there!

💥 Explosive Finale: When your Sim finishes their meal, the balloon will soar into the sky, dancing gracefully among the clouds before bursting into a spectacular display of fireworks!

🌟 Experience the Joy: Treat your Sims to an unforgettable culinary adventure with Street Food Spectacle. Whether they're savoring, every meal becomes a celebration with this exciting mod!

Download Street Food Spectacle today available for FREE on my Patreon and elevate your Sims' dining experiences to new heights! 🌭✨ Packs that you need: Ambitions, Late Night and University Life.

Instructions: Put the package in your mods folder and run your game!

Mods that I recommend using:

FoodTruck Enabled: to allow you to place the food truck parking location in the lots you want https://modthesims.info/d/424758/foodtruck-enabled-updated-15-11-10.html

Nrass Trafic: to allow food trucks to appear outside of Bridgeport. Open the menu in the city hall >> click in Nrass Traffic >> Food Truck >> Need Parking Space ON https://www.nraas.net/community/Traffic

Don't forget that on my Patreon we also have the download of the testing phase of GetWildMod and OceanLifeMod, just purchase the Math Pass and you will have access to many other mods to come!

Every mod that is 100% complete will be available to the public.

[jaetaimjadore]

EVERYDAY VIGNETTES THAT REMIND ME OF ENHYPEN

Pairing: enhypen x reader

Genre: fluff with a touch of angst

Warnings: some suggestive themes, mentions of sexual tension (nothing explicit whatsoever), mentions of food and alcohol, please let me know if i've missed anything else :)

Word count: 1.08k

a/n: this is just a compilation of the silly little musings running through my head that i just so happen to associate with each enha member, so, really, i thought why not share it with you guys? hehehe. enjoy <33

이희승︱Lee Heeseung

Tired lovers whose heads rest upon each other in the quiet corner of a subway. Lying upside down on the sofa just because you can. Playing with another’s hands. Smiles that find two faces at the same time. Thanking yourself for exercising when you really didn’t feel like it. The shimmering lights of a cityscape at night. Admitting that you made a mistake. Remembering that you’re one in eight billion. The sultry flicker of a gaze between two eyes. Silver cufflinks. Better by Khalid. Admiring someone as they ramble on about the things they love. Sexual tension that blinds everything around it. Black button-ups. Sudden moments of crippling nostalgia. Compulsively slapping a sack of rice at the supermarket. Dedicating a hoop to someone and missing by a mile. The irresistible scent of your best friend’s shampoo. The dream that left you feeling butterflies the entire day.

박종성︱Park Jongseong

Monotone outfits. Your phone falling onto your face when scrolling in bed. Red, hot lipstick stains littered on the smooth skin of a neck. Gold necklaces and gold earrings. The calming reassurance that you tried your best. Pulling off your socks after a long, exhausting day. Waking up to the rain of a thunderstorm. The moment you realise your enemy is actually kind of hot. Eye contact that brings with it an endless wave of goosebumps. Round-rimmed spectacles sitting low on a nose. The bubble of champagne in a glass. The click of shoes on shiny tiles. Gallery visits but the art on the walls isn’t what you're staring at. Fond shakes off the head. The muscle that moves so visibly beneath a fitted shirt. A protective hand finding itself hovering over a lower back. Bumping into a glass door and playing it off cool. When one person cooks dinner and the other washes the dishes. A breathy chuckle that grazes the cusp of an ear.

심재윤︱Jake Sim

Almost losing your balance when the sand under your feet glides back into the ocean. The warmth of skin under a cool duvet. Wet smooches from your dog. That one perfect strand of hair you wish you could keep that way forever. Sudden bursts of inspiration that make you feel like you can conquer the world. Kisses on the temple. Kisses on a smile. Hands squeezing hips. Barely contained laughter. The deep regret of walking away. Jumping up to touch the top of a doorframe. Wholeheartedly believing in the five second rule. “You’re perfect to me” whispered in the early hours of morning. Key smash conversations over text. A silver chain that dangles down onto your lips. The one eye that opens to the dawn of a new day. The brief fluttering in your chest when the carousel horse rises up once again. Cold fingers that caress the skin beneath your shirt.

박성훈︱Park Sunghoon

Sunglasses worn indoors because you forgot to take them off. Messy latte art that means so much more because it’s the effort that truly counts. Loosely intertwined fingers. Long walks during the freezing winter months. Lip bites and hooded eyes in moments of lust. Looking in the mirror and loving what you see. The divine feeling of velvet beneath your fingertips. Staring up at a skyscraper and almost stumbling backwards. Letting someone win because you love them so dearly. Soft lips planted on soft knuckles. Solemn wishes made on stray eyelashes. Throwing your head back in uncontrolled laughter. Red high heels. Refusing to get out of bed on Sunday morning. Gliding your fingers through silky soft hair. Going through with something you swore you’d never do. Cat-walking your entire closet at an ungodly hour of the night. Strong arms guiding you to sit down on a lap.

김선우︱Kim Sunoo

The taste of the colour yellow. When a piece of clothing fits just right. Finding a picture in your camera roll taken by mistake but keeping it because it looks cool. The indescribable happiness of a clear, blue sky. Light academia and dark academia. The one shoulder you know you can lean on. The hoot of an owl. Realising just how close your lips are to your lover's. The desperate longing to run away from reality for a while. Elbow nudges that silently ask if you’re okay. When the raindrop you were rooting for wins its race down the window. Two warm hands cupping your cheeks. Literally Netflix ‘n chilling all night long. Golden hour that highlights the magic in someone’s eyes. Feeling young and fresh even when you’re old and weathered. New year’s resolutions that inspire positive change…even if it's just for a month. Immediately dropping your bags and jumping on the hotel bed. The hug you didn’t realise you needed so badly.

양정원︱Yang Jungwon

That perfume you caught one whiff of and immediately wanted to own. Spontaneously realising the beauty of the world around you. The flying wisps of hair that tickle your forehead on a windy day. Chequered Off The Wall sneakers. Sleeveless jumpers. The innocent brush of lips on lips. The words of wisdom that found you in a time of need. The entire grentperez discography. Safe hands stroking your head. The same hands ruffling your hair. Making snow angels in the winter. The memory from your childhood that fills you with the most happiness. When you can’t decide if you’re feeling hot or cold. Legs that entangle together among the sheets. Wondering if there really are more atoms in the human eye than stars in the universe. Nicholas Sparks movies. Falling in love with a song after hearing it for the first time. Late-night drives with no particular destination in mind. Foreheads that touch as eyes slowly flutter closed.

西村力︱Nishimura Riki

That beautiful pain in your chest when thinking of the one you love. Lifting your feet from the pedals while riding your bike down a hill. Marmalade streaks that paint the sky at dusk. The moment you realise you’ve fallen in love. The warm smile of a random stranger. Knowing your inner child is gradually healing with time. Pulling your hood up when in a particularly rebellious mood. The moment a maths question finally clicks. Pinkie promises that last a lifetime. The sheer agony of dropping the last chip on the ground. When opposites attract. The tickle of a nose in the crook of a neck. Cuddling close during a scary movie. Trying not to crack a smile when the person scolding you stumbles over their words. Watching the tide wash over the initials you’d etched into the sand. The cheesy quote that actually inspired you one day. The familiarity of your own bed after parting with it for so long. Ignoring your friend when your eyes find the person across the room.

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