#and aint nobody got time for that

[horror-vampire]

miscellaneous logurt moments from my folder

[theecholegend]

A modern Twilight I drew a few months ago

[flovoid]

‘tied by blood and yet, you are my greatest nemesis…’

[mrmeepsmadmind]

aaaand BUMBLEBEE 😊 !!!!

[daily-ethoslab]

[821] disintegrating

[cinamun]

I gotta get it off my chest: I have a small-but-vocal following on my sims blog, but I've apparently become "big" enough that someone has started a hate campaign against me. I feel like I can't talk about it at all because a) it'll come across as bragging about having "fans" b) it'll just provoke more drama. it really sucks!

We're not bringing NO negative energy into 2025, feel me? Not NAN. Zero, zilch, nada.

The whole antichrist is about to be in charge of the most "powerful" country on earth, his side kick barnacle boy is the richest man on earth and nobody can afford food or medicine.

Ignore it and play your game friend. There are more pressing matters afoot.

[trooly-ticklish]

Day 13 of Tickletober: favorite fantasy spot!

Boyyyy you KNOW the base of Stix's tail is hella ticklish! The closer to the tip, the more numb it gets, so riiiiight at the base is where I learned he can really let out a high pitched shriek of laughter. 🤭

[piranya]

Superfruit - Defying Gravity (Wicked cover)

[hack-n-slasher]

[bobwess]

Needs to be a feature that takes you to the END of your queue for when you fuck up the text/tags but hit "add to queue" before you fix them. Bitch I don't got 6 hours to scroll.

[0perfectimperfections0]

Quick, I need someone who's actually good at drawing to do Lou and Ox to the song "Brothaa" from that new Lion King movie-

[36n127e]

when there’s too many msgs to check…

this is why i hardly ever respond. sorry 🥹

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Morgana AU Pt 7

All three of them fit comfortably in Morgana's chambers, despite offers of rooms for Kara and Gwen as well. But just as the court seems reluctant to let Morgana have free reign, Gwen and Kara are reluctant to give the court free access to Morgana. Even beyond that, after years spent in each other's company, it would feel unnatural to room alone.

One afternoon, while Gwen is having lunch with her brother, Morgana urges Kara to follow her. They make their way unaccosted through the castle-- they have an escort of two guards, but make no move to restrict their movement-- until Kara detects the scent of hay and manure.

The stables.

Kara slips inside the building after Morgana, her eyes adjusting to the change in light just in time to hear Morgana give a slow sigh of relief.

"So you are here still," Morgana murmurs to a gray horse with a mane as wavy as Morgana's own hair. The mare lifts her head at the sound of Morgana's voice, ears pricked forward. "Do you remember me, girl?"

The horse whinnies, and nudges Morgana's chest with her muzzle as soon as her mistress is in reach. Kara slowly moves closer as Morgana strokes the horse's neck.

"This horse is one of the few things I've missed about this place," Morgana confesses in a low voice. "I helped raise her from a filly, when I was a girl."

Kara keeps her hands in her pockets, until Morgana reaches for her wrist and draws her hand to the horse's jowl. The beast accepts her touch readily, though it's clear her attention is primarily fixed on Morgana.

"I'd hoped Arthur would continue caring for her."

"I have," comes a similarly low voice from the stable doors. Arthur strides towards the stall where they stand, with more confidence around Morgana than he's shown thus far. He leans against the wall, watching them both with the horse, features soft yet otherwise inscrutable.

"After a time," he continues, "she was all I had left of you."

Morgana's gaze flashes towards her brother. "Such sentiments hardly befit a king," she says.

"They befit this king."

Something in Arthur's voice changes, and he straightens to his full height-- not to intimidate, but to lend credence, authority to his words.

"I do not intend to rule as our father did, Morgana. I have sworn it to myself and the table."

Kara knows the legend, and can surmise the table of which he speaks. She doesn't know if Morgana knows. Morgana herself gives nothing away, her eyes distant as she continues to pet her horse.

"In that vein," Arthur continues, "I've come to let you know that I've deliberated your judgement."

Morgana's movements still. Kara sees her shoulders stiffen, bracing for the fall.

"Time served."

Morgana's surprise is impossible to hide. Wide eyes flash to Arthur,

"You'll notice Sarrum has left," Arthur explains, "and without his alliance. Before he did, he explained the... history, between the two of you."

Silently, Kara waits for Morgana to react. When she simply continues to stare, Arthur moves on. "I see no reason to repeat cruelty for cruelty's sake."

"Your court can hardly feel comfortable with that decision--"

"It is not the court's decision."

"Then exile--"

"Is that what you want?" Arthur asks. His words cut through Morgana's without malice. In the quiet that follows, he repeats his question. "Is that what you want?"

Morgana turns back to her horse, letting her forehead rest against the mare's jaw.

"No."

---

Arthur has provided them fresh attire the moment they were freed from Sarrum's chains, but after months of scraping together resources, Kara can't bring herself to dispose of their shifts and dresses. And one night, days after the exchange in the stable, Kara sits herself next to the fire to mend the rips and tears that have found a home in their garments.

Across the room in the bedchamber proper, Morgana and Gwen converse softly. At first Kara is content to work with their voices as a hum in the background, and only focuses in when their talk ceases for a heavy moment.

"Arthur says we're welcome here," Gwen says. Her voice is solemn, serious. Kara looks up and finds Gwen's gaze focused on Morgana. "I believe him."

Morgana doesn't say anything, which Kara has learned is a response in itself. Gwen sees it too.

Her features soften, accepting the truth as easily as she always has.

"You don't want to stay here."

For a moment Morgana's gaze is long and distance, before falling askance with heavy lids.

"No."

---

Kara doesn't ask Morgana about her intentions, but it's clear that Gwen and Arthur both itch to know what comes next. Merlin, for his part, only glares from the periphery, looking for all the world as though he would like nothing more than to sear Morgana with a curse.

He doesn't, though-- where Morgana stands tall in her identity, Merlin cowers behind his secrets.

In the end, when Morgana makes her decision, she does so in grand fashion.

"A tract of land??" Arthur repeats, voice echoing across the throne room. He'd called Morgana to open court to force the issue, when the whispers from the courtiers had grown too mistrustful.

Morgana lifts her chin in assent-- her gaze is defiant, and something about it makes Arthur relax, instead of rankle. Kara wonders if she's being treated to a glimpse of who Morgana might have been before Morgause.

"You claim to want a new future," Morgana declares. "Prove it." Exposing Arthur's sentiments to the court is a bold move. Kara holds her breath-- if Arthur denies it to ease the suspicions of the court, he loses Morgana forever.

To his credit, Arthur doesn't seem inclined to take the bait. His lips part to respond, but another voice cuts in.

"She undermines you, your majesty," Merlin warns. "Her intentions--"

"Do not presume to school me on matters of my own family," Arthur responds smoothly. He turns slightly in his chair to stare his advisor down. "I daresay that since my sister has returned to us, you have behaved more suspiciously than she."

"Arthur--"

"Enough, Merlin. I've made my decision," he announces, turning back to face Morgana and the rest of the court. "With some conditions, of course."

"Of course," Morgana echoes with a smirk.

"I choose which tract of land."

"You have one in mind then?"

"Tol, on the edge of the king's forest."

"Crown land?"

"Bequeathed to you, to do with as you please. You would pay no more tax than anyother landowner."

Morgana pauses, taking stock of her brother. "And should I welcome druids?"

At that, shocked whispers rustle throughout the courtroom. Merlin leans in to whisper in Arthur's ear, only to be halted by the king lifting his hand to stay his advance.

"Then as you say-- druids shall be welcome."

Even Morgana seems shocked at that. She has no wit with which to respond, no banter to further their repartee.

Arthur leans forward intently.

"You are the last High Priestess of the old religion," he delivers, voice even and steady. "I would see our peoples become one once more, Morgana."

Morgana stares at him, studying him for any hint of insincerity.

"It has to start somewhere," the king reminds her.

Locking eyes with Arthur, Morgana takes a breath.

"Then let it start here," she returns. Then she smirks. "Your terms are acceptable."

"I have one more," Arthur counters.

Morgana's eyebrows twitch upwards.

"This tract of land, along with anything and anyone on it, shall remain under the protection of the crown."

Morgana's jaw tightens. "I will not have soldiers tramping about--"

"No," Arthur agrees. "But should anyone be foolish enough to make a target of a settlement built by a high priestess-- then they will answer to me."

Kara and the rest of the court wait as Morgana stands in silent regard, weighing her decision in her mind. It will not be easy, what Morgana is planning. But Arthur is offering what he can to pave the way for her.

After another moment, Morgana's head tilts with a wry smile.

"So mote it be."

[shimmeringdungeon]

Senshi would be Damn Proud of the meal I made my family tonight....

Clockwise: Egg Drop Soup, Chow Mein, Chicken Stir Fry, Fried Rice with mixed Veggies

[flymmsy]

Not even everything is enough.

[alicerader]