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KB: hi. i had to call in sick today. i think i might have eaten some spoiled food :(
KB: one day i'll learn how to cook
KB: i'm not sure what to do with myself right now though. what do people do when they aren't at work?
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@kobybraune-blog
đ â á´á´á´É´
KB: hi. i had to call in sick today. i think i might have eaten some spoiled food :(
KB: one day i'll learn how to cook
KB: i'm not sure what to do with myself right now though. what do people do when they aren't at work?
wrcnn:
Of course. Of course they have to play into some clichĂŠ, like something right out of a cheesy romance film that Wren would generally have no interest in. None of them are realistic, see. None of them are what happens in real life. Wren knows it for a fact, right? Wren knows that things like this donât just happen, that sims donât just stumble into their life and make them like them and make them want to kiss them and make them feel things they normally donât. And they certainly donât pull embarrassing lines while looking at Wren like they comprise the entirety of the world, wrapping them up in every bit of their attention, so thick and so soft that they feel completely and totally warm. No less nervous, though. Adrenaline spikes in them as Koby comes closer, as their hand lifts to cup Wrenâs cheek, and as they turn their face into it a bit like theyâre begging for touch. For their touch specifically. Maybe they are. They are. A soft breath leaves from between their lips, and hazel eyes are wide open, their pulse stuttering and hammering so loud they almost donât hear the question past the brush of their noses. Oh, gods. They have no idea what theyâre doing, standing here like this, trying to picture the one moment in all of those horrid films when everything came together. Is this Wrenâs moment? Is this Kobyâs? Maybe itâs one of many for them. Maybe that should make it better. But itâs not for Wren. Itâs the only one.
âThis isnât The Notebook or something.â They breathe, and theyâre tilting their head, rising up to the balls of their feet and placing their hands on either of Kobyâs shoulders. Touching is something theyâre melting into a little quicker than the actual concept of kissing, and theyâre so anxious theyâre shaking, fingertips trembling slightly when they slide their palm up over their neck, to their jaw. They touch there, gentle, tentative, but they donât pull away. They only press themself closer, until their clothes are brushing, and theyâre sure the jumper is riding up the small of their back again. Thatâs fine. Theyâre stretching for this, the height difference somewhat obnoxious, and when they exhale again, itâs right against Kobyâs cheek. Another nose bump, and maybe a small nuzzle. âYeah, I mean â yes. Uh. Iâve never kissed anyone before? Ever. I donât know what Iâm doing, I donât â Iâm not like, going to be able to just⌠do it wellâŚâ They trail off, eyelashes fluttering, and they donât know what theyâre saying anymore, but they canât seem to stop the words from coming, whispered now, quiet and delicate despite their rambling, annoying nature, âso I wouldnât have high expectations if I were you? I mean, like I said, this isnât some kind of movie, Iâm not, uh, leading role material. So. Yeah, itâs yours, but if itâs not â if itâs not any good, thatâs⌠Thatâs your problem.â
âThe Notebook?â a quirk of a quizzical brow follows, though their faces are so close together that perhaps itâll go entirely unnoticed by the younger Sim. Theyâve never really been one for watching TV or movies in general, and those sorts of books arenât the type they usually lean toward. They think that it was perhaps supposed to be an insult (playful in nature), though theyâre sadly lacking the knowledge needed to understand the reference and are instead left perplexed. Amused, but perplexed. Whatever it is, it doesnât appear to have put Wren off any, given their body language is practically begging. Itâs a rush -- one unlike any theyâve really experienced before. Theyâve shared first kisses, all of which were special in and of their own right, but this... this is different. This is Wrenâs first kiss, and clearly that means something to the older Sim. But really, who are they kidding? Wrenâs second, third, fourth and fiftieth kisses would all mean as much if any of them were gifted to them in this way.Â
The height difference isnât something that ever goes unnoticed, but it is drawn into startlingly clear focus when the younger is having to stand on tip toe and stretch their beautiful body up just to nuzzle at their cheek. Itâs endearing beyond belief, as is the rambling that soon follows. They should have expected it, shouldnât they? Though it seems as though everything with Wren is always fresh and new. They keep Koby on their toes despite all of the domestic routines they share together. This small Sim is a well of information and knowledge, with a dazzling character as awe inspiring as what they have to impart. They listen to the rambling (for the most part), and the pad of their thumb drags across Wrenâs lip, waiting for them to finish so that said lips will stay in place for long enough. Maybe theyâll even manage to catch their breath in that time, but thatâs a stretch. Â
âI can think of far worse problems,â they hum, teasing and reassuring all at once, and before Wren has a chance to doubt themself and their ability any further, Koby is doing something theyâve been dreaming of doing for months. When their lips meet, every clichĂŠ line that could be found in the pages of The Notebook or walk straight off the set of the newest Twilight knock-off come to mind, and none of them are enough to describe the sensation.Â
josephinexeaston:
âI got behind on all my work since iâd been sick. I just couldnât let it pile up any longer.â She smiled bringing the drink to her lip.Â
âOh-- Iâm sorry to hear that youâve been sick. Youâre feeling better now, I hope?â they give her a gentle smile, watching her take another drink of something they donât recognise. They certainly donât have any Mixology potential.
josephinexeaston:
âSorting through a weeks worth of work in six hours, I say I earned one of these.â
âSo much work all at once? Was there a reason you had to do it all in the space of six hours? And I suppose if a drink is how you wish to reward yourself then yes, you mustâve earned it.â
wrcnn:
Wren always feels like theyâre waiting for something. Their heart is in their throat as they go through the simple act of lighting their candles, body still stretching as they move to another shelf, and they can feel their eyes on them like they could feel a physical caress. Their sweater is riding up the small of their back, and he cool air is on their exposed sliver of skin, the sensation contrasting heavily with the heat in their cheeks. Itâs not like impending doom, but more like acute anticipation, and itâs funny, because partly they have no idea what it is theyâre waiting on. No idea what to do with it, though they fantasise about it enough to make just the thought send a thrill through their chest. It would be⌠Well, it would be ridiculous of them to not notice the way Koby is with them. To not notice how they treat them, touch them, spend as much of their time with them as possible. They normally try not to read too much into things, at least when it comes to matters of intimacy with other Sims, but this â this they canât seem to stop thinking about.Â
Once the last candle is lit, theyâre letting out a sigh, coming down flat on their feet and reaching to pull their sweater into place. When they turn around, they donât immediately look at Koby, instead casting their eyes down to allow their lashes to fan out over their cheeks. They place to lighter down in a little hand-blown glass bowl that seems to be the place they put everything from their keys to concealer to a little eye-shadow palette. It isnât often they use it, but they still trail their fingertips over it before straightening back up. âRight. Well.â They begin, a little stunted, and then they take a deep breath, visibly relaxing their shoulders in a bid to make themself appear less skittish. In order to be settled. âYou can have anything you want?â They donât know why, but it comes out as a question, and they lift their gaze to their face, all flickering candlelight over the slope of their cheekbones, their mouth. itâs a lot. Everything feels like a lot. âUm.â They need to shut up. Right now.Â
Koby believes in energies. They believe in something, though theyâve never quite landed on what, and right now they truly believe they can feel the air filling between them. Something. Something more. Itâs hard to put a name to, since it isnât truly palpable. Itâs a sensation, not entirely born of an emotion, but certainly not all physical -- and it makes them feel as though theyâre being drawn into some sort of gravitational pull. Or perhaps the worldâs axis has changed, and now theyâre the very centre of it all. It all sounds a bit dramatic, a bit clichĂŠ, and yet right now itâs the one thing that feels entirely real to the older Sim. With Wrenâs lashes fanning across flushed cheeks and fingers delicately grazing over objects in the most absent of ways (and yet calculated, looking for a distraction from their bashful nature, no doubt), Koby is utterly captivated. They can barely breathe the air, dense as it is, by the time Wren looks up at them, and they no longer know what expression their own features are sculpting.
âAnything?â itâs taken a moment for them to find their voice and settle on a response, eyes blazing anew as they make their way further into the room and toward the other Sim. Thereâs only one thing Koby wants right now, and they need to be sure. They need to be positive that itâs theirâs to have, and not something theyâll be stealing away from their counterpart. In case their intent wasnât clear enough already, theyâre raising their hand in an all-too-familiar fashion, bringing a large palm up to engulf a rose tinted cheek, cradling Wrenâs sweet face in their hand as the pad of their thumb brushes against the youngerâs lower lip. Theyâve seen their gaze dragging toward their lips, and now itâs Kobyâs turn to repay the favour in kind, dark hues fixated as the soft flesh moves beneath their caress. A small bump of their noses together is all that follows; it isnât much, but itâs new territory. Itâs leading. âCan I have this?â
wrcnn:
Wren tries to ward off the sudden rush of heat to their cheeks, hiding the curve to their lips behind the rim of the mug. They look up at Koby from that position, taking another sip of the tea with slow intent, and then lowering it down in their hands. After that their chin lifts, and they flit their gaze away with some effort, towards the stairs. âThank you.â They say that first and foremost, unable to carry on without being at least somewhat polite, and then they let out a small sigh as they stand and stretch out their spine. Itâs satisfying â theyâd been sat there far too long. Wren can feel Kobyâs gaze on them like a physical caress, and they ignore the goosebumps on their skin, the urge they have to shiver. Theyâve never actually felt like this around another sim before, and every reaction they have is foreign to them, intoxicating in a way. It takes a lot for them to warm up to somebody â it takes even more for them to warm up enough to consistently harbour the urge to curl up in their lap, small and protected. They brush off the thought with a physical shudder, trying not to sink too far into it, and then they nod in the direction they plan to walk. âWanna go upstairs.â Theyâll have to if theyâre gonna eat anything. The kitchenette down here doesnât have what they need to actually prepare food.
âIâve got, uh, some things you can eat. We can both eat, really. No soy.â They smile a little ruefully at them as they begin to walk, casting a glance over their shoulder that looks as soft as they feel right now. They turn back as they begin to walk up the stairs, one at a time, though theyâve tried in the past to be one of those people who take two. It doesnât work very well. Right now, theyâre just focused on keeping their breathing even â gravity isnât really their friend, and theyâd rather not be panting like an overheated dog when they reach the top. Luckily, itâs not very far, and they seem to be as paced and even as ever once theyâre there. The stairwell leads directly into their lounge, modestly decorated and done predominantly in easy-on-the-eyes neutral shades. There are splashed of red here and there, a load of candles, and Wren immediately walks over to one of the various floating shelves on their wall to light a few with a lighter they retrieve from their pocket (they like to keep incense going downstairs at all times, so they tend to always have one on then). Their mum made them, and they smell of balsam and cedar. Itâs lovely. Wren ignores how they have to stretch up onto their tip toes to actually reach.
The simple lift of Wrenâs chin has warm tingles spreading throughout Kobyâs being, images flitting behind their eyelids with each flutter. They consider reaching forward, cupping the other Simâs soft skin in their hand and pressing a kiss to their lips. They donât go through with it -- not yet. Theyâve waited so long now and theyâre willing to wait a little longer until theyâre experiencing one of those moments again; the world consisting of only the two of them and their shared need to connect on some level that cannot be explained with words, only actions. Theyâre sure a moment like that is around the corner, particularly with how strongly theyâre already feeling the urge. Itâs enough to bring a smile to their features, dark hues burning a little brighter in anticipation. Wrenâs shudder doesnât slip through the cracks. Koby drinks it in with a rumble in their chest, pleased in the knowledge that the next will come with Wren in their arms -- preferably with their lips meeting.Â
âLead the way,â they murmur, fondness leaking into their tone despite the simplicity of whatâs taking place. Or perhaps because of it, so domestic is the desire to go upstairs with this Sim and cook together, eat together, share in each otherâs company. The soft glance they receive is enough in and of itself to have long legs striding to catch up, caught in the otherâs magnetic pull (one Koby isnât sure Wrenâs even aware they have). They reach the top of the stairs almost in sync with the smaller Sim, eyes drinking in the familiar room and scents that only intensify as Wren begins lighting candles. Itâs with the hungry gaze of a starving man that they watch them on their tip toes, body stretching out with such beautiful curves and soft edges catching Kobyâs attention. They want to explore every inch, map it out beneath gentle caresses and delicate fingertips dancing along such perfect slopes; exploring and discovering treasures with each step of the journey. Theyâre finding it exceedingly hard to keep their mind away from such thoughts tonight, usually able to keep themself as unaffected as possible. Right now, theyâre under Wrenâs spell, and itâs exciting. Refreshing. Electric. They donât speak another word into the silence, letting the charged air do it for them as they wait for Wren to turn and see the way theyâre being watched. Koby wants the younger to read on their face just how beautiful they are. How admired they are by the elder. If seeing is truly believing, then Koby wants to leave no doubts in Wrenâs mind.Â
wrcnn:
âWhy? You got somewhere to be?â Wrenâs voice is level, only vaguely teasing, and thereâs a burst of a smile over their face that scrunches up their cheeks into their eyes. It fades quickly enough, only because theyâre concentrating, and they securely tie the little pouch theyâd been meticulously filling with some twine. Itâs not exactly jewellery, no, but it is something else they sell in their shop that they definitely are more prone to hand-making than to getting from outside sources. It smells of lavender and of sage, and they bring up to their nose to take an experimental whiff. They seem satisfied with it, another slightly smaller smile curving up their lips now. When they hold it out to Koby, they raise their gaze to their face at the same time, a sense of accomplishment washing over them like it always does when they complete even a menial task. âItâs the perfect mix. Itâll ward off negative energy, smells, and spirits, if need be. As long as the space isnât too haunted. Ghost Sims are so annoying sometimes. Is that for me?â Theyâve caught sight of the mug beside them, not actually having noticed before, and they reach for it with their free hand, pulling it in close to their body with a satisfied hum.
Everything is bathed in a soft orange, and they blink as if realising for the first time that itâs actually gotten late. The sun does go down at night, theyâre aware, but theyâre still searching for the clock on the wall, registering the hour and then blinking at it like itâs betrayed them or something. They donât remember so long having passed, but they figure Koby must be right in their assessment that Wren has been hyper-focused. Itâs not totally out of the ordinary or anything, just â they usually savour the time they spend with the other Sim a lot more. Try to drag it out. Perhaps itâs time to start doing that now.
âNope -- Iâm exactly where I want to be,â well, thatâs a white lie. Currently theyâd like to be settled into Wrenâs chair with the younger Sim seated upon their lap, folded into their embrace with their scent tantalising their nose. They feel no desire to divulge their omission currently, saving it for later perhaps; once Wren is finished with the project theyâre clearly passionate about. Koby watches on with candid fascination as the small pouch is lifted for Wren to inhale, seeming to pass some sort of test unknown to them. They take the offering, mirroring the smallerâs actions from moments previous. Fragrance assaults their senses as the fabric brushes against their skin, lavender washing over them pleasantly and instantly soothing them. One of their very favourite scents, no doubt about it. Itâs kept them company on many a night where sleep seemed elusive. They listen to Wrenâs explanation, smiling as they drink in their every word. âIâm sure whoever purchases it will rest easy knowing theyâre so well protected,â like a dream catcher for the supernatural, cleansing their surroundings. It sounds so refreshing that Koby contemplates buying it for themself and their private room.Â
âYes, for you,â they add, though evidently thereâs no need, given that the other Sim has already lifted the offering and drawn it into their curvaceous body with a sense of welcoming. Jealousy is a very foreign emotion to Koby, though they find themself wishing to be that mug. Thereâs amusement quirking their lips as they take a sip, regarding the other over the brim as they scan the room as if in surprise. âRather late, isnât it? Are you hungry?â tea might be enough to soothe some of the emptiness in their stomachs, but itâs no lasting remedy. Maybe this time theyâll be able to successfully prepare a grilled (vegan) cheese for Wren without setting the kitchen on fire -- oh, one can hope.
gavinjwolfe:
âBoo!â Gavin laughed as he jumped out of the box, looking around to see who had found him afterwards, âThank god, I was beginning to think no one would ever find me, and then I would have sat in there forever for nothing. I probably would have ended up falling asleep or something.âÂ
Startled, a breath hitches in the tall Simâs chest, their dark hues widening for a moment as the realisation of the otherâs prank begins to sink in. They let out a chuckle once the initial shock has worn off, smiling down at the other. âWere you in there a long time? I hope my reaction was worth going without fulfilling your other needs,â their voice is melodic with good humour, eyes crinkled at the corners.Â
The sun has faded into the horizon, leaving dusk in itâs wake as Koby settles inside Wrenâs shop. Their own closed an hour or so ago, though as the workaholic they happen to be, theyâve brought some âhomeâ with them into a place so comfortable it can be mistaken for such. Itâs an all too regular routine, given the close proximity of their establishments, along with the close proximity of their relationship. They finished working on their latest sketch only ten minutes earlier, and have since been in the small kitchen area. In their grasp they hold two steaming mugs of herbal tea, chosen specifically to help them both relax after a long day. Thereâs a dash of something sweet inside, something theyâre sure will bring a pleasant little curve to Wrenâs lips. Some sort of warmth unfurls inside of their belly in anticipation of it as they carry the beverages over toward where the younger of the pair has been studiously working away. Jewellery, Koby would assume, though maybe theyâll be surprised tonight and be indulged in learning more about another of Wrenâs skills. They enjoy nothing more than listening to them, the passion in their voice never going unnoticed  or lacking the appropriate admiration and reverence Koby believes it deserves.Â
âAlmost done for the night?â they query, voice lilting and soft like the warm glow trailing in through the windows, basking them in their very own sunset. One cup is placed beside Wren, the other clutched firm in Kobyâs left hand as they raise the right to rest long fingers gently upon the smallerâs shoulder, dipping down to press a kiss to their soft, fluffy locks. âWhatâre you working on? You seem especially focused this evening.â | @wrcnn
izzycartcr:
âUgh, what time is it?â The brunette sim asked as she got out of her bed. âCan I go back to sleep forever please? My bed is my friend, it keeps me safe from this cruel, cruel world.â
âSorry, I didnât mean to wake you,â they have the decency to look sheepish upon realising their intrusion. âItâs past noon, I figured youâd be awake -- my mistake. Iâll leave you to your slumber.â
josephinexeaston:
âUgh yup that is flat.â Jo spoke mainly to herself as she still swallowing the content. She was still making as face as she smacked her lips and placed it down. âYou take what you get right?â She chuckled turning to the person next to her.
Long fingers are wrapped around a cool glass, condensation making the pads of their fingers wrinkle and prune. Surveying the other, one shaped brow is raised in her direction. Thereâs a sympathetic smile gracing their lips as they speak. âWould you like me to fetch you another? You shouldnât have to drink it if itâs so foul.âÂ
hello all, iâm jamie ( they/them ), and iâm here with a rather old and treasured baby of mine, koby. iâm going to write some quick phahahaha facts about them beneath the cut, but their full stats can be found here for anyone whoâs interested! also iâm up for all the plots and connections i can get, so shoot me a message or give this a like and we can get this show on the road.Â