#My favorite quote of the entire show

[delioncourtes]

As you come into this world, something else is also born. You begin your life, and it begins a journey towards you. It moves slowly, but it never stops. Wherever you go, whatever path you take, it will follow. Never faster, never slower, always coming. You will run, it will walk. You will rest, it will not. One day, you will linger in the same place too long. You will sit too still or sleep too deep, and when, too late, you rise to go, you will notice a second shadow next to yours. Your life will then be over.

[charlieconwayy]

Top 50 OTPs of All Time ☆ #47. Finn Hudson & Rachel Berry

“You’re like a beacon of light guiding me through the darkness. You’re like this big gold star and for some bizarre reason, you chose to let me love you. And I feel like if I can just convince you to let me keep doing that, I’m gonna be okay. Everything is gonna be okay.”

[ben-crytalker]

fave deadloch out of context ep 1

[purple-mushroom-cap]

"Demigods have always fought for glory. They used to call it kleos. It's like this stuff that attaches itself to your name. Makes it bigger, scarier, more important." --Luke Castellan

[a-side-character]

Never underestimate the healing properties and power of a comfort media

[horror-aesthete]

Dracula, 2020, dir. Jonny Campbell

SE01E01 The Rules of the Beast

[arolesbianism]

Some Brute doodles plus a bonus Button

[workingwhileidream]

Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).

- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.

- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.

- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.

- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.

- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.

- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.

- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.

- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.

- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.

- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.

- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.

- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.

- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.

- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.

- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.

- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.

- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.

- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.

- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.

- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.

[cartoonchaos]

hmmm almost like he is additionally the most musical-protagonist-coded generic man in a suit blank slate ready for a whirlwind adventure romance comedy and yet does not like musicals hmmmm

Crazy how Paul Matthews, AKA the guy who gives off the biggest catboy energy, AKA the guy who looks like he'd rather stay home with his five cats than go out to socialize, AKA the guy who looks like a future 'cat mom' is written to NOT like cats

[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’m so gonna get hate for this. And it will probably get about 4 notes. This is, by far, the most opinionated thing I have ever posted on here. If you can’t tolerate criticism towards Rick Riordan, the books, or the TV show, please keep scrolling. My goal is NOT to change your mind or start arguments.

I also want to preface this by saying that I love and respect Rick Riordan (even if I disagree with him on things and don’t like some of his choices) and fully acknowledge that he has the right to do whatever the hell he pleases with his own series. I also want to say that I love Annabeth Chase (both the book and tv show version) with my entire being and you will never find me being an Annabeth hater. She’s my girl.

We good? Okay cool. So here’s the thing: I’ve seen a lot of people on here saying things like “If you didn’t like the books, you just don’t know how to have fun,” and “The new book haters are just mad that they aren’t the target audience anymore,” and (my personal favorite) “Nothing in the books has changed, only the readers have.”

And while I see your points, and I respect you, allow me to show you something. Because of the 10 picture limit, I am only going to focus on one specific change: Annabeth’s view of Percy.

WOTTG: Annabeth is surprised to be comforted by Percy

Past Books: Percy is constantly comforting Annabeth

WOTTG: Annabeth is shocked when Percy is smart

Past Books: Annabeth often points out that Percy is intelligent

WOTTG: Annabeth thinks Percy can’t do anything on his own, and Rick communicates that Annabeth is always saving his ass

Past Books: Percy is ALWAYS watching her back, and saving her ass just as much (and Annabeth admits that)

I could put a hundred quotes in here. I could go on and on and on. But I can’t, and I won’t.

My problem with this new book is NOT that it is more goofy than serious. My problem is NOT that little things have changed. My problem is NOT that it’s just for fun. My problem is NOT that it’s much more childish. (And by the way, I’ve read PJO and HOO as an adult, so it’s not like I was a child when I read everything else and am now an adult reading the new ones.) I really did like and enjoy many parts of this book.

My problem is that the characters (especially Annabeth) have flat out changed—in bad ways—and we have no choice but to accept it as canon. My problem is that Rick, while trying to merge his books with his new TV show project, is changing the entire personalities and past behaviors/ tendencies of the characters.

I loved Chalice of the Gods. You know why? It was fun, goofy, and showed the characters that we know and love being happy and adorable. I strongly dislike Wrath of the Triple Godess because the characters—no matter how adorable and happy they might be—are no longer the ones we know and love.

My problem is that Rick Riordan fully admitted that he no longer considers the old book characters when he writes the new books. He is now purposefully incorporating his own personal mixture of the book characters and tv characters and writing those versions instead. Because of his desire to change and transform the series, I doubt he’s even read the original PJO or HOO books in years, which is why everything is so inconsistent. The old book characters—the ones who made the series what it was—are gone. And that is not my opinion. Rick fully admits that he doesn’t imagine them when he writes anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the tv show actors. I adore Walker and Leah and Aryan with my whole heart, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But the fact is: they will never be exactly like the book characters. It’s impossible for actors to become the words on a page. They’re their own unique version! And likewise, you cannot turn actors into print. It doesn’t work! And why would you try? The books versions were perfect as they were. And the disney kids need to make the characters their own. The two versions can exist side by side, equally as wonderful, and still be gloriously different. We should celebrate the uniqueness of both. But instead, Rick is attempting to merge them into one. And in my opinion, it’s just hurting them both. And I’m gonna get real brave by saying this, but do you want my honest prediction? If he keeps doing what he’s doing now, the TV show is going to get cancelled and the books are going to turn into a joke. I so, so badly hope that this doesn’t happen! I have loved Rick and PJO for many, many years. I badly want both to thrive. But what is going on right now… it is not working, no matter how much we all want it to. And speaking as someone who knows people in the TV/Film industry, I am sadly not the only one who thinks the show is gonna flop. Which is devastating, because Rick Riordan deserves a redemption on the big screen, and the incredible actors deserve to bring this series to life in a new way.

I am not trying to force my opinions onto anybody. You are welcome to disagree with me and move on. I am not saying that I’m right and you’re wrong. If you disagree, that’s okay. If you agree but you don’t have a problem with it, that’s okay. In fact if other people have literally no issues, that makes me somewhat happy. And if you loved the book, I’m honestly so stoked for you. Feel free to just keep on scrolling, my friend.

But me? I’m sad. I’m really, really freaking sad. And I’m a little angry too, even if I don’t have a right to be. I can’t help it because I’m only human. But this is how I—and a lot of other people—feel. And you know what? That’s okay too. Because the fact of the matter is:

Annabeth isn’t the same Annabeth anymore. And Percy isn’t the same Percy anymore. And it’s not because they went through trauma, or because time has passed. It’s because Rick Riordan doesn’t have any interest in writing those versions of them anymore. And I think the comparisons between the old and the new show that fact pretty clearly.

[dr3amfyr-e]

brat. - j.v. ( w. 4.5k )

꒰ in which the boy you see every summer enrolls in the same university as you. ꒱ — modern!jacaerys velayron x reader

୨ ⎯ i cannot stress enough, football means ⚽️ not 🏈. childhood-friends-to-lovers, but you have to get through my 2000 word psychoanalysis and backstory first. light angst. mention of the death of a parent. lots and lots of talk about the velaryon-targaryen-hightower family dynamic. light make out action. reader's family is implied to be wealthy enough to have a summer home. almost everyone lives au. set in the uk, not westeros. omitted daemon rhaenyra marriage because there’s no way to to make it even semi-normal. realizing now i omitted daemon entirely erm sorry. pushing the laenor agenda bc he’s my favorite character. this is abhorently long. extreme overuse of the em-dash. uhh the perspective is wonky in a few places. will prob get a pt.2. ⎯ ୧

i had to write this twice. i'm offering this to you with shaking hands, like a peasent child begging for coins. i may write a part two because i have more to say, but i don't want to figure it out rn.

On the cold January morning that Jacaerys Velaryon-Targaryen was born, the media went into a frenzy. 

The Targaryens were old money, their fortune rooted a century back in good investments. Historically adept at finding their way into things, the empire had a string to pull in every industry. From art and law to technology and shipping, if business prospects looked good there would be a Targaryen investment.

And then there were the dogs — regal greyhounds, with long, thin bodies and sleek coats. The Targaryens bred them as far back as bloodline records went. The pups were never for sale; sometimes they were used as show dogs, and successful show dogs they were, but more often they were pets. It was a status symbol, to nonchalantly own such a coveted creature. 

The Targaryens were idolized in the public eye. They were all stunning, with sharp features and silver hair, and each member of the family seemed to possess a Midas touch. But, where Valyrian blood ran hot, so did the press. It was no surprise when magazines started to turn a profit from silver heads plastered across their glossy covers. It was the price that came with God-like aristocracy.

From editorials to gossip columns, people devoured the insider life of the untouchables. When Aemma Targaryen died, there was a four-page spread in nearly every magazine; complete with pictures and quotes. Business papers filled with opinion pieces about Rhaenyra’s inheritance claim to her family’s empire; magazines exploded with the announcement of her engagement to Laenor Velaryon, and subsequently Viserys’ marriage to Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his lawyer. 

When Jacaerys was born, reporters lined up outside of the hospital doors. There were cameras and microphones and crew trucks, and Rhaenyra hated it. It wasn’t the way she wished to welcome her child into the world — swarmed by people who didn’t know nor care for him.

Laenor had always been good at navigating the attention, and Rhaenyra was constantly grateful. So, when he pulled his gaze from the babe and steeled himself to deal with the onslaught of reporters outside, tears pricked at her eyes. Appreciation, exhaustion, adoration? She couldn’t be sure. 

Looking down at her son, she thought, he’s perfect. He had a smattering of dark hair, and he was quiet but not concerningly so. Wispy lashes fell upon his cherub cheeks, and when he eventually blinked up at her his eyes were dark. He looked nothing like her — she didn’t care. 

She refused to talk to anyone outside of her family, and had the curtains in her private room drawn. To expose her son, her heart, to the prying eyes of the bored masses with nary a care for his well-being was a nightmare. She wouldn’t have him exploited. 

At the time of Jacaerys’ birth, she and Laenor had been married for a little over a year. Laenor’s father, Corlys, managed the bulk of the import and export for Viserys’ company. Corlys was a good man, he hadn’t dreamed of marrying his son off. But Laenor and Rhaenyra were both in the same impossible situation: the wiles of youth mixed with the ever critical public. 

They had both fallen into scandalous relationships, both preyed on by paparazzi. If they married one another, it would save face for both of their families. Plus — both being the eldest and heir, this would clear the expectation of a dignified marriage. They agreed to leave each other to whatever youthful fun they wanted to have, as long as everything was discreet. 

Both the Velaryons and the Targaryens kept a summer home in Dragonstone, a private community in coastal Wales. It was the perfect place for Rhaenyra and Laenor to begin their life — far from her father, close to his parents, and out of the line of sight for any nosy journalist. 

The public eye had looked to other things by the time Lucerys was born, two years later. Again, Laenor dealt with the small gathering of reporters with the utmost grace, and Rhaenyra submitted a written statement. 

Alicent divorced Viserys that same year. 

As she watched her boys grow up, full of energy and life, Rhaenyra thought, there was no one better to parent with than her best friend — a title Laenor had rightfully earned. They hadn’t had much choice in knowing each other, and they certainly would never have chosen to be married, but he made a bearable roommate. They had things in common; they liked the same music, and the same men. They drank the same wine and frequented the same restaurants. And, they both loved their boys. 

As Jace and Luke grew up, they found the best company in each other — the school in Dragonstone was so small, though, that there were very few other options. They both played on the school’s small football team, and Jace took piano lessons while Luke learned to fence. Where Jace was driven by emotion, Luke was level-headed; where Luke was cautiously quiet, Jace spoke his mind. It was an ideal childhood, the Welsh coast was an idyllic backdrop to grow up upon, with the sea in their backyard. 

They were ten and eight when Joffrey was born, both excited for their new brother. Their mother brought him home, bundled in a soft red blanket. The boys sat on the couch beside Rhaenys and stared at him for upwards of an hour. 

Hardly a week had passed when Harwin Strong died. He was a family friend, a frequent presence in their home and life — Jace and Luke had been upset by this, of course. 

In time they came to understand the situation fully. Jacaerys first, fitting the pieces together with the evidence he found in the mirror. Neither Rhaenyra nor Laenor had dark hair, like he and his brothers. 

His matriline was uncontestable though, as he grew into himself. He possessed the same nose, jaw, brow, and high cheekbones that Rhaenyra wore. The comparisons between the two became more frequent as he grew older, and he found himself to be quite proud to look like her. 

Her attitude lived in him as well, the temperament she had been so notorious for as a girl festered in her eldest son. She had once been christened ‘The Princess of Dragonstone’ after flipping off a reporter at their summer home. Jacearys earned it for himself when he was fifteen, after loudly berating a reporter. He had been defending Luke, but no one seemed to care when they deigned him ‘The Prince of Dragonstone’. He took it with grace, claiming that he couldn’t help but be his mother’s child.

It instilled a sense of public propriety he strove to uphold. 

Rhaenyra remarried the same year — to Alicent Hightower — and moved her children from Wales to London. It took a while to adjust to the new life — Jace liked his new school, but he detested his step-brothers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come around to the idea of living with Aemond and Aegon, who took so much pleasure in making he and his brothers miserable. 

After the first month, Jacaerys fell in brilliantly. He performed well in school, quickly being enrolled in the advanced literature and history courses. He got on well with his peers, and made a number of friends. He joined the football team and spent his Sunday afternoons learning piano concertos. 

Living in London made him a more publicly prominent figure in his family's legacy. He knew how to play his role as heir; he carried himself perfectly — confident and charming and elegant. He didn’t particularly like being in the public eye, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction when he did something to receive positive public attention. 

King’s Landing, much like where he had grown up, was a community reserved for the upper echelon. Situated in Northwest London, and surrounded by wrought iron gates, it was regal and dignified. The house had high, vaulted ceilings, large stained glass windows, and more than enough bedrooms. It rained more, Jacaerys noticed in the first month. When it had rained in Dragonstone he would watch the droplets bounce off the sea, where it lapped at the sandy bay. Here the rain splattered unceremoniously upon the pavement. 

For as wonderful as life in London had turned out, Jacaerys found himself longing for what was left behind in Dragonstone. Laenor lived there still, and while he called often and visited as much as he could, it wasn’t the same. Jace’s childhood bedroom remained, along with all of the memories in the house he grew up in. And his friends. There was an assortment of people he only saw between late May and early September; the children of the other seasonal residents. The number had dwindled in years past, with fewer of them returning for break — favouring more interesting places, like Ibiza or Rome, as they got older. 

Far too few of his childhood friends he kept in contact with, especially after the move to London. You were the exception. 

He was grateful, on days when it stormed in London, to receive a silly text or too-long voice note. It made things feel less dull — you had a way of doing that. 

He took to reading theory around the time he turned seventeen. It’s queer theory, at the suggestion of his cousin Baela, who lent him his first Judith Butler book. He finished it that weekend. 

His aunt Laena and her two daughters lived in London, and Jace found a close comrade in Baela. She played competitive tennis and listened to riot grrrl, she was much cooler than him and he knew it. Her bedroom held two massive bookshelves, and she let him pillage her collection for De Bouvier and Didion and Gay. Hours were spent lying across the floor in Laena’s house, studying, or reading, or talking. He enjoyed Baela’s company more than any of his school friends, favouring anything with her over anything with the boys from his football team. 

His youngest sister, Visenya, turned one around the same time. Baela, staying with Jacaerys while he babysat one night, inducted him into the eldest daughter club. 

“You’re so keen on driving your siblings around, and taking care of them. Plus, aren’t you your mother’s closest confidant?” She asked. 

True, Jace supposed. He was the oldest of Rhaenyra’s children, and the most responsible of his brothers and step-siblings. His mums both worked full time, they were busy but as involved as possible. Jace just did the menial things. He made Joffrey breakfast, picked Luke up after school, and watched Visenya when necessary. He didn’t mind.

Baela argued that he should mind. 

He had been a sensitive child, more so than his brothers, but it made him incredibly emotionally adept as he aged. So many boys his age prided themselves on stoicism, but that was never something Jace felt connected to. He always felt things too deeply to bottle them up — it accounted for the occasional temper that flared up when he was upset, but also how empathetic and kind he was. 

Jacearys was set to graduate with honours in the first week of May. It was three months before when college acceptance letters began to appear in the mail. He had applied to a number of places, and been accepted everywhere. The University of the Vale was where his hopes hinged though. 

Just after Valentine's Day, it showed up. The envelope was wide and stuffed full, and sealed with a wax stamp. His acceptance letter was on the very top of the stack of papers — the thick paper heavy in his hands, as he admired the blue printed border and silver flocking. 

Rhaenrya sorted through the informational packets while Jace reread the letter. Part of him couldn’t believe it was real.

He sends you a picture of the letter, and you respond in kind with one of an identical nature. 

You hadn’t planned to go to the same university, but it certainly was a happy coincidence. 

After graduation, he was beyond excited for the reprieve that Dragonstone granted. The promise of early morning hikes, and evenings spent on the beach — the once empty house, full of life and bustling with bodies. 

You were the first thing Jacaerys thought to look for when he set his bags down in the summer home. 

It was late May, and you were guaranteed to be out of school. I’ll text after I unpack, he thought, pulling clothes and books from his suitcase. 

His room in Dragonstone had once been his childhood bedroom. The walls were a warm tone of white, and the small bed was still covered with his blue and white checkered duvet. Piano scales and pictures of his brothers and friends adorn the walls. There was a soccer trophy on the back edge of his desk, something he had won when he was eleven. It was stuffy from nine months of stagnance, but familiar all the same. 

He pushed the curtains back from the window to let sunlight filter into the dusty room, gazing down at the beach, when he spotted your figure. He was quick to rush downstairs, out the backdoor, and across the stone path that leads from the patio to the beach. He greets you with a call of your name and a tight hug, sunglasses perched atop his head and linen shirt half buttoned. 

It had been a year since he’d last seen you. You had kept in touch during the school year; Jace favoured Snapchat and FaceTime, delighted with the pleasure of seeing the mundane things you were up to. There was a nearly constant text thread, and voice memos passed back and forth. But, it all paled in comparison to physical company. 

He abandoned his housekeeping duties, keen to sit on the beach and talk. And you did so for hours, about everything and nothing. He tells you about his last year of school and listens as you do the same. When the sun dipped past the treeline, he leaned back on his elbows, watching the water crest on the sand. He felt more at ease than he had in a while, enraptured by the ease of your presence. The conversation flowed, there were no awkward lulls and no pressure to talk about something dignified. It was comforting to be so close to someone who didn’t see much of his life in London — you knew the best version of him. 

Your friendship had always felt like that, from a young age. On days that smelled of sunscreen and sea salt in his mind, you would meet in the mornings and depart past dark and then do it again the next day, never tiring of each other. Your parents knew his, so you had always been welcome in his home — invited or not. You had shared a bed during sleepovers, drunk from the same cup, and fallen asleep on the couch during movie nights countless times. Quick glances and imperceptible expressions were a language you communicated in, reading each other without words. In your presence, Jace was the most comfortable.

The summer slipped away as it always did, taking long nights and leaving memories of sand and sunshine. The days were ambled away in the water, on rocky hiking paths, or in the meadow that sat a mile away from all of the homes. 

Jace had started The Hobbit before school ended — most days he found himself sprawled out in the park or on the beach, reading. He had also taken to running with his dog, Vermax, in the mornings. He relied on the serotonin boost to start the day, and with no football to play a jog was a decent alternative. 

When the summer drew to a close, the typical melancholy that befell the return to the real world wasn’t present in Jace’s mind. He presumed it had everything to do with the fact that he would see you every day now

You have one college class together — a nine a.m. medieval literature discussion. 

Clinging to familiarity in the new environment, he glued himself to your side for the first week of classes. He memorized the way to your dorm, meeting you outside every morning to walk together to your first lessons. The meandering conversation was a good start to the day, and he silently relished in your tired eyes and quiet voice, not yet used to the early schedule. 

On Friday he all but begged you to come back to his dorm after the discussion; it was your only class that day so you had given in. You hadn’t seen his living quarters yet, and he wanted to spend time with you, worried for when your schedules would fill up and you would lose room for each other. 

The discussion had been mind-numbing. You reviewed the same syllabus as the lecture, and went over the same rules and policies as every other class. With the thirty-five minutes remaining, the teaching assistant made everyone watch an incredibly monotone video about the history of medieval England. 

Jace linked his arm into yours in the hallway after class, pulling you to the doors. The cool morning air was refreshing, waking you up more as you walked across campus. His dorm building was new and modern, seventeen floors with grey siding and big windows. It was private housing, clearly expensive. 

He had a single room with an adjoining bathroom and a small common space. The walls were typical dorm white, with laminate wood flooring. Joffrey’s school photo is hung on one wall, the frame clearly decorated by the child with glitter and string. Scattered across the other walls were photographs in thin silver frames, a large world map, a clock, and a cross-stitch of a rainbow stag beetle.

Sitting on the couch, you observed the unframed photos that lay across the coffee table, inspecting a leggy grey dog as you plucked it from the pile, “Who is this?”

Jace leaned into your side, gazing at the photo, “My mum’s dog, Syrax,” He reached over you to tap the picture, “Syrax is my dog’s mum.” 

He slipped his hand into yours as you walked with him to his second class of the day.

In the third week of school, Jace asks you to attend a mixer for a pre-law society with him. He doesn't know anyone, and doesn't want to be alone at the party. You meet at his dorm at a quarter-to-six so you can walk to the event together. 

The dress-code is emi-formal, and when he opens the door to you his hair is slicked back with water and he smells like his cologne — musk, sandalwood, and amber. 

“Are your clothes pressed?” You ask, grinning at his freshly ironed slacks and the three buttons undone on his shirt. 

He rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him as he escorts you down the hallway. The walls of the elevator in his dorm are mirrored, and you laugh at him when you catch him taking pictures of himself. He makes you take one with him, and sets it as his lock screen. 

The mixer was in the dean of law’s massive house, buzzing with young people in smart outfits. Jace abandons you about fifteen minutes in, spotting a group of poli sci majors from his social psychology class. 

From his childhood spent between galas and his mother’s business meetings, Jace was good at navigating these situations. He was charming, leveling the professors with charismatic smiles and confident posture. He was good at holding an intelligent conversation, discussing theory and strategy. 

You were on the patio, watching the stars, when he found you an hour later.

His arms brushed yours as he leaned against the railing, “Sorry for leaving you,” His voice was quiet, and he stared at your profile, watching the way the moonlight illuminated your skin. 

You wave his apology off and make him buy you coffee in recompense on the way home. 

You’re stood talking together on the quadrangle a few weeks later, a cup of hot chocolate warming your mitten-less hands, when you realise just how cold it’s gotten. It's just too cold for the thin jacket that you try to sink further into, hiding from the wind that bites at your delicate skin.

Jace watches you shiver, observing your lack of appropriate attire. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, reaching out to run his hands up and down your arms, half to warm you, half to gauge how thick your jacket is. Not very. 

You nod, “I didn’t check the weather this morning.” 

He sighs with exaggerated exasperation and slides his arms around you, careful of the paper cup you held. Of course, he’s worn the right coat, and you feel the downy material of his hood against your cheek as he rubs your back to generate some warmth. You smell the cologne on his collar and the expensive shampoo he uses; he grumbled something about taking better care of yourself. 

Then, one particularly cold Friday morning he has forgotten his coat. Dressed in a hoodie, he mirrors your excuse from the week prior, smiling sheepishly — face flushed from the chilly air, dark curls blowing around his head like a halo. You take pity on him, slipping your scarf off. You loop it around his neck, tucking the ends down into the collar of his sweater, and leave him with a fond peck on the cheek; his skin is cold. 

He's appreciative, though the scarf does little against the cold wind cutting through his sweater. Still, he doesn't give the scarf back. 

With the cold, comes midterms. You’re the first person Jace asks to study. 

Your dorm room is closer to the central part of campus, and thus a shorter walk in the bitter cold. Jace brushes snow out of his hair as you unlock your door, ushering him inside. It's small. Two twin-sized beds, one on each wall, with nary enough room for two bodies between them; a desk is crammed into the small space between your bed and the window. You let him take the desk, spreading your books and notes out across your bed.

Your dorm is old, and the room has very little ventilation. Despite the frigidity outside, the room is stuffy and almost hot with both of your bodies inside. An hour into studying Jace shrugs off his heavy, knit sweater and pushes his glasses up into his hair. 

“What are you working on?” You ask, leaning forward. You’re bored, working on the same power point you started yesterday. You want to talk to him, though he doesn’t seem keen on the idea

He doesn’t look up from typing as he speaks, “Analysing The Art of War.” 

You shut your laptop, bent on distracting him, “The book?” 

He nods but doesn’t give a verbal response. 

“Who's that by?” You ask, fighting to suppress a grin

This time he does look up, glaring at you over his glasses, “Sun Tzu.” 

His tone is short, but it's amusing to annoy him so you grin, suppressing a giggle, “Sounds very interesting.” 

“What do you want?” He asks after a beat, still holding your gaze. 

You shrug, “Nothing. I’m bored,” 

The next time you study is even less productive, school work discarded on his floor in a matter of minutes. 

“We can’t be trusted to work together,” He tells you, watching as you calculate his astrological chart, geometry homework forgotten. 

You attend your first college party together in November. When you arrive at his dorm, he’s dressed much more casually than normal. 

You reach out to tug at the thin silver chain peeking out from his shirt collar, “This is fun,” You tease, giggling, “Aiming to impress tonight?”

He rolls his eyes in mock-offence, turning you around by the shoulders to shove you out of the doorframe. 

The lights in the house are dim, and they strobe slowly through different colours. It’s too dark and too bright all at once. The music is almost unbearably loud and people are packed in like sardines, it’s all incredibly overstimulating. 

When he senses your unease, Jace takes your hand, pulling you tight against your side to lead you through the throng of bodies. He’s looking for someone, but you’re unsure who, and he canvases the whole space before giving up on finding them.

The backyard of the house is quieter, but the ground still vibrates from the bass of the music. People are scattered about, smoking cigarettes and sipping from bottles of cheap beer. 

You both learn what Jell-O shots are, and make out in the bathroom back at his dorm. It’s not the first time you’d kissed each other, trying it a few times in your adolescence just to see what it was like. But this is different, tipsy and sloppy, as you giggle into his mouth. 

It's forgotten in the morning, when you wake up in his bed still dressed in your going-out clothes, head pounding.

But then it happens again, the week before finals.

You had stayed at the library far too late studying, leaving the pair of you to walk back to his dorm in the dark. It's positively frigid, cold December air whipping snow into your face. 

There are still snowflakes in your hair as you shed the thick coat you’re wearing, pulling off your gloves and hat. 

There's a bottle of wine in Jace’s freezer, left by Aegon the weekend before. It's expensive and rich and red, and Aegon would likely skin you if he found out you were drinking it — but, that's part of the fun. There's a baking show on the small television, and you’re curled into Jace’s side to steal some of the warmth from his body.

When the program lulls he brings his hand to your hair, combing through the tangled strands. You pay it little mind, leaning into his touch as you watch a contestant on-screen whip macaron batter. His fingers slide down to your jaw, turning your head so your eyes meet his. He’s studying your face, cheeks flushed from the wine or the cold. 

The attention is odd, and you giggle nervously under his gaze. His hands come to cradle your jaw as he leans towards you, nose brushing yours. The air is charged with an unusual tension, his mouth a breath away from yours. 

When he kisses you, he’s slow and gentle, his whole body angled into yours. Everything feels warm, a welcome contrast to the weather outside, and you chalk it up to the glasses of wine coursing through your bloodstream. 

It's pleasant, different from times past; this certainly doesn’t feel like an innocent, experimental kiss. It's heated, tinged with passion. He uses the placement of his hand to ease your jaw open, tongue sliding slowly into your mouth. 

There's a vibe, something you hadn’t felt before with him. It's communicated through the gentle touch of his hands, and how his breath hitches when you kiss him back with the same sort of force. 

The moment is broken by the announcement of a winner on the television. His hands slide down, resting on your shoulders, pulling your frame into his. 

You don’t talk about it afterwards. 

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Definitely nothing gross cause I hate stuff like that too. Im absolutely obsessed with his hands, and so I was kinda imagining an early seasons Spencer who doesn't understand why reader always stares at his hands so she shows him 🤭

If no thats okay 😅👍🏻

Oooo

I love Spencer's hands.

HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS FOR THE NON BELIEVERS LIKE BROOO

CW: Lwk size difference. consent?

A/N: Mistakes? Comment. Compliments? Comment. Problems? cOmmENT!!!!

______________________________________________________________

Spencer was sat beneath you immersed in a book he bought a few days ago. You tried to follow the words but you kept getting distracted. You let put a shaky breath as your eyes followed Spencer Reid's fingers, how the flexed before flipping the page. You were so focus on his fingers you didn't hear Spencer.

NSFW BENEATH BE VERY WARNED

Spencer Reid was a damn good profiler so when he noticed your irregular breathing, dilated eyes and unresponsiveness he wondered if it was your thoughts till he noticed what you were looking at.

Rolling up his sleeved he moved closer to you.

"Angel?" he asked for the 4th time before you jerked back finally coming to.

"Huh? did you say something?" You asked as you peeled your eyes off his fingers.

"Bingle-bongle, dingle-dangle, yickety-do yickitey-dah, ping-pong, lippy-tappy, too-tah."

You blinked twice before coming to your sense, what were you doing?

His gaze on you made your cheeks feel hotter than usual.

"Why are you quoting Doctor Who?"

"My girl's not here, figured the Doctor could bring her back." You scratched the back of your neck as you looked away.

"I'm here."

"A survey conducted by the Journal of Sex Research in 2007 found that about 30% of participants reported some form of partialism."

"Partialism?"

"A type of paraphilia involving sexual interest in, or fixation with, a certain part of the body."

"I-?"

"My hands. that's your current sexual interest."

"Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know for maybe sexualising your hands."

"I'm your boyfriend, I don't mind...in fact, I'm interested in how you see my hands" his words made you gulped. Spencer smiled so innocently but his actions were anything but.

One of his hands disembarked from the arm of the chair and began to trail up your neck, a trail of shivers in it's wake. You froze, your breath caught in your lungs.

"Spencer..."

"Mhmm...?"

He knew what he was doing to you. How it affected you. His index finger traced your jaw before landing on your lips.

"Open." it was a simple order. You opened your mouth before your nerve disappeared like your reasoning. His finger trailed the inside of your mouth before landing on your tongue.

"Suck." your lips like clockwork clamped down on his knuckle and like someone with their favorite candy. You sucked. Your tongue wrapping around his finger.

His eyes were locked on your face. Only the whites of your eyes were visible as you all but sucked the skin of his fingers. He was losing his control by the day and it was you he wanted to take care of.

He chuckled at your eagerness. "You like how bigger my hands are huh? dirty little thing aren't you."

The sound that came from the back of your throat was primal. You didn't say anything but no words were needed.

Spencer pulled you down to the floor, his finger still in your mouth like a leash. HIs other hand moved to your bottoms and they were gone. He removed his finger from your mouth and you felt empty.

That was before you felt his fingers in you. Throwing your head back you realised the background noise wasn't just background noise. It was you moaning the entire time. Your thighs clenched around his arm as you wriggled and writhed under him.

“Such a slut you are, hm?” his tone changed slightly causing you to rock your hips even more. Teasing your entrance with his finger you wondered if he would give you his cock. "You’re so wet.” He chuckled breathlessly, you noticed just how much he was restraining himself.

His hair falling over his eyes , slightly hiding his lust filled gaze. Before He lowered his head towards his fingers.

The next few moments were heaven. Spencer ate puss like a starving man. Your starving mam

Spencer brought you down from your high, your breasts having joined the game, you briefly wondered when you lost your shirt.

"No nerd facts?" you finally spoke your throat slightly dry.

"You want, fuck, you want a fact?" his voice was breathless and windy.

"Yes."

"You drive me crazy."

You laughed as you laid on him.

"I'm glad, but i mean an actual fact."

"Alright but stop moving your hands." You tilted your head.

"It's my turn now."

You traced the buldge in his pants. Unzipping his pants.

"People who-who..." you palmed him.

"Who what?" you asked mimicking him. Tracing the tip you watch Spencer fight to stay together.

" A-Are hand fetish-fetishist usually admire the nails-" You pressed slightly along the sides.

"Long nails? short nails?nail-polished? clear?"

"Angel..." his voice was horse.

"Alright, no questions."

"And enjoy licking or sucking one's hand or fingers and the acts made with the hand (handjobs, fingering, slapping, scratching and so on)" You moved your hair as you began to do just that.

Licking

Sucking

Nibbling

Spencer came apart minutes later all over the floor, his head falling into the chair. His chest rising slowly again. He raised his arms and brought you closer, his face disappearing slightly in your hair.

"Angel, I love you so much." he mumbled.

"I love you too Spence."

"We should get cleaned up..." he began making no motion to get up.

"We should..." slumping into him further.

"Are we getting up now?"

"Oh no, you turned me into Spaghetti legs!" you exclaimed.

__________________________________________________________

Spencer Reid smut has been served. I don't know if I like this or not but what matters is that i overcame my writers block at 2am

[ventismacchiato]

stuck with you — windblume !

˗ˏˋ profiles ´ˎ˗

yn — main vocalist which makes you the most popular member. you go viral every other week for getting into petty arguments on twitter and weverse with scaramouche. should definitely learn media training because you tend to rant about him too much during lives. ‘compilations of scaramouche and yn bickering’ are super common. you’re also the only member to release a solo album which gets you guys a lot of new fans. became an idol after being a trainee for way too many years, which is why you’re salty about scara debuting so quickly when he became an idol trainee after you. [🍰]

xiao — main dancer. choreographs a lot of the dances if not all. very introverted in public but talkative in behind the scenes vlogs with his group. xiao stans have it hard because this man hardly posts anything. fans call him the dad of the group because he’s always sneaking food onto everyone’s plates and keeping them hydrated during practice. when you guys first debuted everyone thought he was mean and cold when really he’s just a quiet sweetheart. has a tattoo sleeve that the fans haven’t seen the entirety of yet, jungkook vibes in that sense. most expensive photocards after you, the one of him in cat ears and winking goes for hundreds. [🦊]

lumine — leader of the group and one of the only responsible ones. strict about keeping everyone on schedule and trying to appear presentable at music and award shows. tries to drag you all to the gym at five in the morning but to no avail. she vlogs her gym routine and whatever member she dragged that morning is usually seen in the back sitting on a yoga ball the entire time, talking as she runs miles on the treadmill. always setting trends for workout routines and makeup looks. once it touches her face it sells out. her twin is also an idol so they both do a lot of tiktoks and videos together. it siblings. [☀️]

fischl — one of the lyricists for the group. so chronically online. she’s always active at odd hours of the night and interacting with her fans. posts the most too, so fischl biases are always full with content. wears an eyepatch as part of her idol persona, and still manages to perform with it on. will do book club livestreams where she’ll talk about her current favorite book with her fans for two hours or more. lumine has to shut the live off everytime because she will just keep yapping. [🦉]

venti — writes most of the group's songs and runs production. most unserious member and should really attend a public image class because he does not know how to be a celebrity. fans are constantly finding vapes in the back of his photos and videos of him drunk at award shows. went viral once for showing up to a music show high off his mind but still managing to perform. will dye the ends of his hair different colors every comeback from his fan’s requests. loves to go live and sing covers for whatever people ask for. he does qnas and takes the tmis too seriously. [🌱]

yoimiya — visual and vocalist, will bring out her guitar during concerts a lot. the only member who will go to the gym with lumine. became an idol because she used to busk in her hometown and got picked up by your manager while she was on vacation. would be the type of idol to adore fancalls and do decorating photocards on livestreams. gets invited to a lot of variety shows and was probably a judge for a survival show at one point. [🧨]

windblume —one of the idol groups underneath sakura entertainment,  a six member mix gendered idol group known for their whimsical and indie comebacks every year. think of txt’s brand when it comes to your guys’ style of music. have been a group for about three years. members range from 21-22. their debut album Temptation got them to their popularity today. fandom name: bloomies

stuck with you !

masterlist — next

for my nonkpop fans the emojis are their assigned ones for when people post their livestream quotes, will make more sense later 😓 and weverse is basically twitter but just for idols to interact with fans

tried not to describe yn too much because i want it to be inclusive, any photos showing yn are just to depict the pose! not gender, race, or body type 🙏

spent way too long making custom instagram templates and for what help so pls look at them xx it’s so u can visualize what these 2d mfs wud look like in this au

pls lmk in the masterlist comments if i can use ur username and make you a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — it’s my exam week so all i have to give you is profiles for now </3

taglist is closed!

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @sheraeera @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @kitsuvil @iheartpieck @crystalcrys @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @crucnhice @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @scarasmood @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @lilachasawesomehair @xxrexx

[brunchable]

Movie Night | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Fiance Bucky Barnes x f!reader Themes: FLUFF, FLUFF. IT'S SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE. BUCKY JUST BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE. Summary: You come home exhausted from another day of work, not expecting Bucky to surprise you with a little heart-warming gesture to show you how much he appreciates you. A/N: Bucky is so baby boy in my heart <3 he deserves to be happy :')

You walked through the front door after a long day, the weight of the world seemingly sitting on your shoulders. You dropped your keys onto the table and toed off your shoes, ready to collapse on the couch and maybe watch some mindless TV when you noticed something odd. Your living room lights were off, but there was a soft, warm glow coming from inside... a fort?

You blinked, taking in the sight. There, in the middle of your living room, was a massive pillow fort. Cushions, blankets, and pillows of every kind were stacked together, forming walls and towers. Fairy lights were strung around the outside, casting a soft glow over the entire space. The entrance was a small gap, just wide enough for someone to crawl through. You smiled, already knowing who was behind this.

"Bucky?" you called, your voice filled with amusement.

From inside the fort, you heard a muffled, "Come in, if you dare."

Laughing, you crouched down and peeked inside. Bucky was lying on his back, surrounded by an array of snacks, blankets, and your favorite movies lined up on the tablet in front of him. He grinned up at you, his eyes soft and playful. 

"I built us the fortress of restorous," he said dramatically, holding up a bag of popcorn as if it were a prized treasure.

You crawled inside, the fort much bigger than you thought. It was like stepping into a cozy little world of your own. 

“You did all of this?” you asked, settling down beside him. The pillows were impossibly soft and you found your muscles relaxing and the stress from your work fading away.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the pride in his eyes gave him away. “I figured you could use a little break. Plus, it’s movie night.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “This is amazing, Buck.”

He turned toward you, propping his head on his hand as he gazed at you with that soft, thoughtful expression you loved. “You’ve been working so hard, lately. I just want you to know that you're amazing.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and effort he’d put into this gesture. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, but he grinned as he handed you a bag of your favourite snacks. “Alright, pick a movie. I’ve got everything lined up.”

“DVDs? Where did you even get this? Let alone a DVD player?” You chuckled holding up the case for White Chicks (2004). 

“I bought them,” He paused a beat when he saw your brows starting to furrow, “With my money okay? Your fiancé is old fashioned, just in case your little noggin’ forgot.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you playfully nudged Bucky’s shoulder. "My fiancé, huh? Guess that means I'm stuck with you, old-fashioned DVDs and all," you teased, holding up the case for emphasis. "But seriously, this is kind of adorable. You with a DVD player? It's like a time capsule here."

Bucky grinned, his expression softening as he leaned back against the pillows. "Classic movies, cozy nights... maybe we’ll even get a record player next."

You smiled warmly at him, your heart felt full at how much thought he put into the evening. 

"You know," you said softly, "you always find a way to surprise me. And I love every bit of it." you paused, looking down at the DVD case in your hands before glancing back at him with a smirk. "But I’ll warn you, if you start quoting this movie word for word, you’ll owe me a lot more than just a cozy night in a pillow fort.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, matched with a raised brow.

You grinned, leaning in closer until your faces were only inches apart. “You’ll owe me... a whole day of doing whatever I want. No complaints, no arguing. Just you, me, and whatever ridiculous adventure I come up with.”

“Whatever you want, huh? You think you can handle me agreeing to anything without a fight?”

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m counting on it. I’ll make sure it’s something unforgettable.”

He smirked, “Alright, deal. But only if you can stay awake through the whole movie without falling asleep on my shoulder like last time.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me, James Barnes, I did not fall asleep! I was just… resting my eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling yor closer and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, baby.”

You spent the next few hours nestled in the little fort, watching silly comedies and adventure films, laughing so hard at times both of you almost cried. Every now and then, Bucky would nudge you with his shoulder, his playful side showing as he whispered sarcastic comments about the characters on screen.

But the real magic was in the quiet moments. The way Bucky's arm slowly found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest. The warmth of his body seeping into yours as the world outside the fort seemed to disappear. His hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm as you lay there, completely content in your cosy little world.

At some point during the night, after the third movie, you turned your head slightly to look up at him. He was staring at the screen, his face bathed in the soft glow of the fairy lights, a small smile tugging at his lips. You couldn’t help but admire how peaceful he looked. He deserves that more than anyone else.

Without thinking, you whispered, “I love you.”

The words slipped out so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realise what you’d said until Bucky's head snapped down to look at you. For a moment, you panicked, your heart racing. But then, a soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice tender. “Always.”

You felt your heart swell, and you snuggled deeper into his arms, letting the warmth of his love and the comfort of the little fort wrap around you like a blanket. As the night grew later and the movies played on, you knew that no matter what, this moment – this simple, perfect moment in the pillow fort – was something you would treasure forever.

And as both of you drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other and the fort Bucky had built, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, in your little fortress of love and warmth.

[sim-berry]

I'm Tired.

I totally get why many simblrs don't want to name and shame and want to avoid drama, but I'm not one of those simblrs. If I see some bs I'm going to call it out. I only have a few followers (who are lovely and sweet) anyway, so it's not like I'll get a crusade against me. So that's exactly what I'm gonna do, because I'm pissed right now.

I know I don't have a big blog so it's unlikely many will see this, but if you do, please reblog it. Spread the word about creators who have stolen content so that people can stop downloading their cc and supporting them.

One of my favorite creators, Toys of Dukeness, has just deleted all their poses from Patreon and stated that they are leaving the Sims community. Their poses have been STOLEN by other "creators" who have locked them behind paywalls. Keep in mind Toys gives their poses out FOR FREE and they've been STOLEN and put behind paywalls! They're making money off of shit that isn't even theirs! How disgusting is that?? And now they don't even feel welcome in the community that they've given so much to.

And it's funny because I just saw a post from the amazing @simmireen (who makes many of my favorite poses) calling out THE SAME CREATOR for stealing their poses!! Simmireen's poses are stunning and she is kind enough to give them out for free, and she's had her hard work ripped off by an early access paywaller. The same one who drove Toys out of this community: simsulani.

This is a screenshot taken from Toys of Dukeness's post (read the whole thing here) that specifically calls out two of the thieves:

If this keeps happening, more of our wonderful cc creators are going to leave simblr. And I don't blame them one bit. Why put hours, sometimes days, of work into creating content when it's just going to be stolen and profited off of by someone else?

And when those creators do eventually leave, do you know what we'll be left with? Scummy perma-paywallers and early access creators who use minority groups to make money. (As a member of the LGBT I can't tell you how fucking sick I am of seeing "Pride Month Collection- Available to the public on June 30th🥰")

We can't let that happen. We need to support and show love to the creators who allow us to have beautiful cc and amazing poses in our games. I can tell you right now my stories would be nothing without simmireen's and Toys' poses. And they aren't the only creators who have had their cc stolen. We're on here about AI stealing art all the time (which is a totally valid argument, don't get me wrong), meanwhile actual humans, fellow simmers, are stealing content right under our noses, right this moment.

I am TIRED of this. Our content creators are being driven off this site and out of the community entirely because their work is being stolen. Storytellers, including myself, have also had their storylines stolen. I once saw someone take my entire NSB Gen 2 storyline, with even the quotes being copied and pasted! If you don't have creativity, then don't make content, that's okay. What's not okay is STEALING from people who have worked hard on their craft, ESPECIALLY if you're making money off of the stuff you stole.

Again, please reblog if you can. And feel free to share some REPUTABLE creators so simmers know who to download from rather than the thieves. They're the ones who need to be driven out, not the hardworking creators. And anyone who is afraid to vent about this on main can come into my anon and rant all they want. We as a community need to stop this.

-Coco xoxo

[butch--dean]

candidate for one of my favorite quotes in the entire show