#anyway some expansions on stuff mentioned-

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[ramblingautisticman]

So, I haven't stopped thinking about the dyslexic Wade headcannon- like at all- so here is the second part/expansive of this post!

I really like the idea of him being really insecure about it but slowly accepting it more and being more open about it.

I also wrote from my experience, and I'm not officially diagnosed don't come at me, but I struggle alot with reading and writing so yeah!

Anyway, enjoy. Please. I hope everyone likes this as much as I do!

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It isn't that Wade can't read- or that he doesn't want to- it's more that it's a massive fucking struggle. Most of the time anyway.

He's always had trouble reading (and spelling, but he can avoid that with emojis now! How technology grows!) ever since he was a kid.

And maybe it's because he didn't grow up in a great environment, or maybe it's because he was never really encouraged, but Wade never ever mentions it. Not to anyone.

He never told anyone when he was in school that sometimes words didn't really make sense to him, and that he was behind in work because of it, not because he would sit and talk (though he did that too). He never told anyone that he preferred art over english because it was easier to understand a picture to him than it was words. He never told anyone that he struggled to spell simple words like "bakery" and "shopping" but could spell "because" and "beautiful" because of a stupid rhyme he had heard once.

It was just something he had grown up with- something he had assumed other kids dealt with- u til he got to high school. Suddenly, he was surrounded by people writing 3000 word essays like they were nothing and people reading 200 page books during lunch, all while Wade still hadn't finished a single book he owned. While Wade still struggled to understand words that weren't in a specific font or colour- something he had realised shortly after turning 10- and everyone around him could just do it. They didn't take 10 minutes to finish a page of a book. They didn't get headaches from the concentration he had to use while staring at a page trying to figure out if the word "wandering" was spelt correctly. They didn't struggle to read the teachers writing because of the cursive writing. They could all just do it and Wade had to just sit and try.

Naturally, people noticed that he would read slowly and awkwardly when they read aloud in class, or that his work always came back covered in red pen from where he had misspelled simple words. He quickly became a target for bullying. Honestly, he probably wouldn't feel as self conscious as he does if that hadn't happened. If teachers had just stepped in and helped- noticed that something was wrong- he would've gotten some help and grown up with accommodations that would've helped him succeed. But he didn't get any of that. He got bullied for reading slowly and being dumb. He got kicked and punched because he had been spotted reading a book meant for younger kids (big mistake).

Wade tried. He did. He read books as often as he could to try and make his brain click- and it never worked. He would try and spell random words- and sometimes he got them and sometimes he didnt- and eventually he gave up. Eventually he succumbed to the voice in his head telling him he was stupid and that he was just going to have to go through life suffering.

And as he got older, he figured out stuff that helped and stuff that didn't. He managed to find a few fonts that helped, a few overlays that made it easier, and a few things to remind him how to spell certain words he usually struggled with.

He also got better at hiding it. Wade would tell people he preferred calls over text. He would open birthday cards and smile at the writing even if he couldn't quiet make out what it said. He would avoid anything that involved him reading in public.

And again, not because he couldn't read, but because it might take him alittle longer than it should, and the idea people would notice made his stomach fill with anxiety, sending him right back to being that scrawny kid I high-school who got beaten up every lunch time.

All of that only got worse after his accident. Well, the cancer and the torture and the murders, but ya know.

Now people were staring at him anyway. People would look and gasp and gawk as he walked down the street or went to the store to get groceries. Everywhere he went people stared. Everywhere.

So instead of being slightly worried people would notice him focusing too hard on reading, he was fully aware people were staring at him constantly because of his skin, and he liked to avoid giving them anymore reasons to stare.

To his suprise though, moving in with Al had helped. She was the only person he had told, and she was the only person who seemed to understand, telling him about something called dyslexia and telling him that his brain just worked alittle different than his. Then proceeded to pass out after using the last of her cocaine- but the thought was still there.

And she didn't seem to mind that he read alittle slower sometimes, because she still asked him to read her mail to her, and sometimes write letters or cards. Wade would have to ask her how to spell the words, but she never seemed to get angry about it, and she always seemed to know how to spell them. Plus, if anyone noticed it wasn't spelt right, they could blame it on her being blind (how was the recipient to know this letter hadn't been writing by Al? She could probably write stuff if she wanted. She's blind, not stupid.).

When he started to gain friends and family- somehow gaining a little group of them- he didn't feel as bad about them noticing. He still didn't say anything- didn't make it obvious- but he wanted them to know he read there cards. Make sure they knew he read the group chat messages. Make sure they knew he did care (and for some reason, probably because the writer loves this headcannon, it seemed like alot of him showing his cared had to do with reading and spelling), writing them birthday cards and Christmas cards, and responding to every single message.

He found a quick way around the messages. That was easy. Emojis, memes and gifs quickly became his best friend. They were easy to dichiper most of the time, and Wade loved them, so it was a win win! He did write things too, and auto correct usually helped if he was struggling that day, but he was getting better thanks to Al and her bossing about of writing letters to her grandkids.

Writing cards took a little longer, but he spent alot of time on each one, making sure everything look neat and was spelt well. It always made him proud giving someone a card that he knew he spent so much time on, perfecting every last word.

When Logan moved in, it was a topic Wade was trying to avoid. He knew he should tell him- they were getting closer and closer each passing day- but he always felt so stupid trying to explain it. It made him feel stupid, even if he knew he wasn't. Most of the time.

Luckily, it doesn't actually come up for awhile, not until they have moved into their own place and Wade is handing Logan a birthday card with a huge grin on his face, practically bouncing on his feet.

And Logan opens it and reads it, and smirks a little because "I don't think the word awesome is spelt like that" and suddenly Wade's smile is wiped off his face.

He really had tried- maybe he didn't read the word properly off his phone or something- because Wade is taking the card and trying his best to quickly read it but can't, and he let's out a grunt of frustration because rambling at Logan apologetically. "I really tried to fucking spell everything right- I'm the idiot for fucking trying to read the word to spell it- I mean, who does that when you can't even read properly? I can re-do it- gimme like an hour and a half to go get a new card and get Al on the phone to just ask her how to spell it and then I can give you one that isn't fucked up-"

And Logan shuts him up with a small kiss to the forehead, telling him that he "likes this one just fine, has more charm" and Wade wants that to feel reassuring but it somehow doesn't, and it just makes him more annoyed.

So after a small melt down and a good cry in the shower for fucking up Logan's birthday, he explains it to Logan. Tells him about how he sometimes struggles with reading and spelling, but he really did try with the card. He really does try to read and write properly but some days it's hard and some days he can do it easier, and that he never really told anyone until he met Al. He messily rambles about everything- including the bullying- and Wade expects to be met with some laugh or ridicule. Though, this is Logan- and somehow this man loves every other part of him- so why wouldn't he love this part too?

And Logan just apologises to Wade that he made him feel bad about misspelling the word awesome- makes a joke about how it's a hard word to spell- and that Wade shouldn't have been bullied for something he couldn't help. Tells him that it's nothing to be ashamed off, and that he shouldn't let it hold him back. Tells him that if he ever needs help with spelling something he can ask Logan, that if he ever can't figure out a word that he can ask Logan, asks if there are any accommodations he uses to help him.

And Wade tells him the things that help, the things that don't, thanks him for the offer of help, and suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying that Logan knows. Suddenly he feels better about it. Sure, Al had helped, but hearing this from Logan made him feel less afraid to hide it. Made him feel better about telling his friends so they knew.

And Logan stays true to his words. He helps him when he is struggling with a word- never jumps in a reads stuff or spells things without being asked first- and even uses some of the accommodations. He has his phone set to a font Wade can read easier, and his next birthday card is in big bold writing (Logan's writing is normally really scribbly and hard to read) and on a colour that helps him focus on the words more.

And he tells his friends and they understand, they do the same. They help if asked, they don't rush him in reading their cards or messages- Yukio starts to use more emojis and Collosus tries his best to give Wade mission debriefs in person or voice messages- and it helps him immensely. He gets more confident about his reading and writing, and he starts to work on ut even more. And yeah, he can't get rid of his dyslexia, but he can try and find new ways that help him. He can find books in safe fonts and listen to the audio book as he reads to help (Though, he does prefer listening to Logan read to him, because his voice is so smooth and gruff somehow, and he could listen to it for hours).

Wade hated that stupid part of himself for so long, but now- even if he is 47- he doesn't really mind it anymore. He makes jokes about his spelling errors or words he missreads, and he works on finding new things to help with Logan, and everything is alittle bit easier knowing he isn't going to be ridiculed and judged.

(People who said they wanted this, I hope you enjoy! @wadewnstonwilson @logictoinsanity @zerotoqueero @superbattrash @spoopderman @klszkas @ohitsthemindstuffagain @mangoob @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes (tagging yall who said you wanted to read it!))

[81emily71]

hey lovelies, this is a frat au written for @sleepy-hyperfixations with the absolutely amazing idea, i actually really loved writing this one lol. anyways, as per, fic under the cut!

warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, established relationship, fluff, attempt at humour

wc: 1030

description: Will has been known to flirt with people and get around previously - being a frat president and all - but some people didn’t get the memo that he is very happy in a loving relationship that he wouldn’t trade for the world, and keep flirting. Mack hates it, although being completely oblivious when someone’s flirting with him, and Will doesn’t get why Mack hates it so much. So when someone flirts with Mack for the first time since they got together, it causes Will to get jealous.

Yes, I’m Miss Possessive

Will didn’t get it.

He didn’t get that Mack would always get so worked up over a barista putting their number on his coffee cup, or a sorority girl batting her eyelashes towards him, and the occasional frat guy telling him he has “nice muscles” and squeezing them - it happened once, Mack was ready to punch someone

Sure, he can admit that he’s an attractive guy, but he never understood why Mack always got so worked up when people hit on him. It’s not like Will ever reciprocated the flirting and touches and stuff, so he never understood the big deal.

Not to mention, being a frat president and all, he sort of had an old reputation of being a tad bit of a player - although he’s reformed now, and only loves the beauty that is his glorious boyfriend Mack. Because of this reputation, though, anyone who wanted to get some, just thought they could.

Will doesn’t want to say he’s against the attention - in reality, he thrives on it - but he does not appreciate people thinking he’s anyone’s other than Mack’s.

Anyone who knew better knew not to hit on Will anymore, not since Mack had a scrap with a guy getting way too touchy on Will’s lower back, even if he hadn’t reciprocated the affection.

Mack’s attitude is at it’s finest whenever a sorority girl thinks they have the chance, with snide remarks about how their shirt looks strange with their shoes, or how he can tell they want a bit of action, or just butting into a conversation in a lame attempt to assert some kind of dominance

But again, Will didn’t get it.

That was until a certain frat party in particular, not one hosted by Will, a different one, one that was housed by a few BU Terriers players at the college over from theirs.

Mack knew the guy hosting, that’s how they got in and managed to snag a few free drinks, and Will didn’t think anything of it at first. The party wasn’t one of those low-key ones you had with, like, 20-30 friends, it was one you needed a specific invite for, it’s was that exclusive.

As soon as they walked in, Will felt the easy thrum of the overdone bass through his feet, making his insides rattle in a near-nauseating way. And just as Will suggested getting drinks for the two of them, Mack was dragged away because he “just had to meet this guy” who was a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend.

Will chuckled and went around to mingle among people, have a few drinks, loosen up, have fun. About an hour and a half later, he spots Mack across the expanse of the living room after not seeing him since he was whisked away.

That’s when Will got it.

There he was, laughing like Mack had said the funniest thing ever, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter and touching Mack’s arm in a way that couldn’t be accidental, or passed off as a friendly action.

The guy, who’s name he doesn’t know, let his hand drop from Mack’s bicep, brushing down his forearm, and finally landing right next to his hand. Mack glanced down to how close they were, and shifted his hand slightly - not enough to be noticeable to the unknowing eye, but enough to put some friendly distance between them.

Will’s jaw clenched, attention now shifted from whatever conversation he was half paying attention to, and to what’s-his-name thinking he had the right to touch Mack like that. He gripped his beer bottle neck so hard his knuckles turned white, and he let out a shaky breath, trying to calm whatever was stirring inside of him.

“Yo, Smitty, you good?” Lane nudged him slightly, diverting his attention from the guy very obviously flirting with Mack.

“Yep.” He mumbled, taking a sip of his beer as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Will placed his beer firmly on the table in front of him with a satisfying clunk, and stood. He walked through the sea of people with a newfound sense of purpose, his feet moving before his head had time to catch up.

He came up behind Mack, snaking his arms around his waist, pulling him back towards himself, and kissed him on the temple.

“Hey babe, I’ve been looking for you for ages, who’s this?” Will asked, loud enough for the other guy to hear

“Oh, hey Will, this is Alex, he runs track for BU. Alex this is Will, my boyfriend.”

“Hey man, nice to meet you.” Alex stuck his hand out for Will to shake, and he just looked at it like it personally offended him, not reaching out to shake it at all.

“Yeah. Mack, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, see ya later, Alex.”

“Bye.”

Will didn’t say goodbye, just pulled Mack by the hand and away from the crowded space, and into a near-secluded hallway. Will dragged him until he was against the wall, Will standing over him.

“What the fuck was that?” Will demanded.

“I was talking to him? He’s a nice guy.”

“Oh, he was so nice that you just let him touch you like that?” Will crowded him further into the wall.

“Are you�� jealous, Smitty?”

“… No”

Mack laughed, a full chested giggle, teeth showing in his adorable gummy smile. “You so are, you can’t even deny it.”

“I’m not, I’m just… protecting what’s mine.”

“But you can go and flirt with half the people at the party, but I can’t talk to one semi-attractive man? Okay, I see how it is.” Mack smirked, his words laced with sarcasm.

Will rolled his eyes “See, now I get why you get so pissed when girls talk to me all the time.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re mine, and I think you might need a little memory jog.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Mack chuckled as Will leaned down and kissed him, his hand coming up to clutch his jaw, possessively keeping him in place, and Mack’s hands made their way into his messy curls in the way he knows drives Will insane.

“Mine.” Will muttered between kisses.

[reidmoony-toast]

Never let me go. ౨ৎ

"But the arms of the ocean delivered me"

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Spencer and r are investigating a case that involves a lake and a rickety old boat—the problem? They can't stand each other.

Content: based off this vid of George Russell and Carmen (it's so random I know but I was inspired), fluff, banter, enemies (ish) to lovers, forced proximity, romanic tension, Spencer does the Darcy hand flex (!) cw: lil bit of violence (they briefly mention a case) wc: 2.1k an: I started this AGES ago oh my lord but anyways I hope you enjoy this very weirdly specific prompt, ilyy <3

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About halfway down to the dock, you are seriously reconsidering this whole ordeal. Maybe it was Spencer’s confidence when he expressed his knowledge of boats when the officer offhandedly mentioned his massive workload, or maybe it’s your dedication to the job, or your unfortunate tendency for some light masochism. Whatever reason your brain had conjured previously has vanished into smoke between the police precinct and the gravel path you now traverse. 

The officer leads the way, Spencer walking beside him, discussing the impending trip that the two of you are about to take. Together. Alone. In the middle of the lake with a man who might have the theoretical—but certainly not the practical—knowledge to drive this boat without killing the both of you in a freak boating accident. 

You finally reach the dock, and you examine the death machine moored in front of you. It was an old police dinghy, with a small frame around the driver’s seat, and inflatable sides to increase its safety level. The officer begins to explain the workings of the boat, and you squint out at the expanse of lake before you, as you try to pay attention—if only so you can call Spencer up on anything he does minutely wrong. 

The officer eventually deems the two of you water-safe and gives his final farewells, echoed kindly by Spencer. After a few seconds, while Spencer is checking the mooring line, you clear your throat pointedly. 

Spencer glances up, eyebrow raised in question. You fold your arms across your chest. “I’m not getting into that boat with you as its captain.”

He stopped with the rope all together. “Technically, I'm the Skipper. Captain is saved for bigger vessels with more authority.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah whatever, smart-ass. Still not letting you be my Skipper.” You huff. “I don't have a death wish.”

He lets out a long sigh, like you’re a petulant child. “You volunteered to come and look at the dump site with me. No backing out now.” He returns to his work, like your indignation is simply fleeting because he knows he will win in the end. “Plus, I need a second pair of eyes.”

You let out a loud groan. As much as you can’t stand to spend over an hour in a rusty old boat, with nobody for company but Spencer Reid, you have a job to do, and you can’t very well flake out now. What would Hotch say if you came back now, with the only excuse being ‘I can’t deal with Spencer’? Most likely something about being disappointed at your immaturity, that you can’t even manage to work with one of your fellow team members. 

“Fine.” You snap, unendingly irritated that you have to concede to Spencer. The corner of his mouth tips up in triumph, and you have the violent urge to kick him in the face. He’s in the perfect position for it, too. But, of course, being a mature adult, you gallantly resist.

“I’ll grab our stuff, you can get in.” Spencer passes you, heading to your equipment bag, as you step to the edge of the pier. It’s a much further way down than it had looked from where you were previously standing, and you pause for a moment, assessing the best way to get into the boat without falling into the chilled lake water. 

You sit on the edge, attempting to lower yourself down into the dinghy below, but your legs are too short, and you scrabble for purchase, trying to reach the boat floor, and succeeding, but only with the tips of your shoes. 

“Do you need help with that?” Spencer speaks up from behind you, a lilt of amusement clouding his voice. You continue your pitiful attempts to climb into the small boat from the too-high dock. 

“I'm fine.” You say, petulantly, not bothering to turn to address Spencer, as you knew he would be smiling at your misfortune. Finally, you shakily lower yourself down until you fall heavily onto the floor of the boat, staggering when it rocks in the water. 

“Whatever you say.” 

You turn just in time to see him swiftly, and with a surprising amount of grace for a man you have seen trip over nothing but his own feet, enter the boat. He lets out a low chuckle as he passes you towards the controls. 

“Show off.” You scoff loudly, and roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised they return back to the realm of the living at all—although it's not like he could see it anyways as he fiddles with the buttons at the helm. 

You and Spencer spend the whole boat ride, and examination of the watery dump site, bickering about god knows what. From Spencer’s questionable driving skills, to your glove application, to your differing opinions on the case. While the whole situation was bothersome, you find yourself surprisingly unvexed, even to go so far as to somewhat enjoy yourself. You shake off those thoughts—Spencer is a pain in your ass, and that will never change.

“You’re seriously doing it wrong.” You say for the hundredth time, as Spencer jerkily guides the two of you back to shore. 

“I’m doing fine, okay?” The boat jolts, and you wobble, letting out a yelp, before finding your feet again. “Stop doubting my abilities and trust me.”

“I am most definitely doubting your judgement, and I do not trust you!” You tightly grip one of the rusty beams of the cockpit. “I was almost flung out of the boat just then, you maniac!”

“Calm down.” Spencer counters, sounding exasperated.

“I think I have a say in how I go out, and dying in a dusty old police boat with you of all people is not what I choose!” You make a noise of frustration when Spencer simply laughs at your agonising. 

“Is that really a bad way to go?” He keeps his eyes on the approaching dock, but there is a lilt of amusement in his tone.

“The worst.” You groan out, and Spencer chuckles jovially.

By some miracle, Spencer manages to dock the boat, and he motions for you to disembark first. 

You stare at the dock, and your stomach dips. You might have had trouble getting into the boat in the first place, but getting out? That was a whole other story. This was certainly going to be a lot trickier than it was before. 

“Need some help?” Spencer pipes up, just like before—the deja vu was very definitely unappreciated. He must have seen your assessment in your hesitation, and taken it as yet another opportunity to terrorise you.

“No.” You move to the edge, judging the large distance before you—the gap was considerably larger now, and it was much harder to traverse up than down. You blamed Spencer’s questionable boat-driving skills. The length wasn't a problem by itself, but paired with the height, it was an impossible feat for someone with your frame. You bend your knees, ready to jump across—your hopeless plan to somehow get yourself from the boat to the dock. You lean forward, but almost lose your balance, stepping back abruptly to prevent a very unpleasant outcome.

You finally bail on your fruitless attempts when you realize it would most likely end with you either in the water, very injured, or with a severely bruised ego. Less than if you let Spencer help, that is, but the other two options weren't something you wanted to experience. 

You exhale slowly, knowing you had to admit defeat. You turn slowly, facing Spencer. He grins, knowing what your look meant. 

You hated needing the help of others, preferring to do everything yourself; assistance from others always felt like a personal failure. You also knew you could be… stubborn, and you had rejected Spencer's help already, so this was certainly a blow to your ego.

You stare at him impatiently, waiting for him to get the memo that you need his help. A shit-eating grin spreads across his face and his eyebrow flicks up in a silent mocking question. 

“Spencer.” You deadpan, fixing him with a glare. 

He shoots your name back to you in the same flat tone, eyes dancing in amusement. You glare back, unblinking. A battle of wills arises in the form of prolonged intense eye contact, but you unfortunately don't possess the demanding expression you were hoping for, and you begrudgingly admit defeat.

“Can you…” You groan at the words you have to utter. “help me.” 

“What’s the magic word?” 

Scratch that. The scathing look you were searching for? There it was. Spencer snorted, wholly entertained by the whole situation. You debate shoving him straight into the grimy lake. 

“Please.” You grit out. 

“Thank you.” He says cordially, like he was a perfect gentleman. Yeah, the lake could definitely help him see the hard truths. 

He walks forward carefully, trying his best not to rock the boat too much. As he enters your space, your chest tightens slightly, but you don't read into it. That was something to unpack later. Much later. 

“Can I?” Spencer asks, and you realise he's asking permission to touch you. You nod quickly, watching in morbid anticipation as his hands snake towards you, settling carefully but firmly on your hips. You snap your attention away, desperate to break the strained silence with the first thing that comes to mind.

“Are you even strong enough for this?” The execution of nonchalance you were aiming for is partially botched when your voice comes out breathier than normal. 

“Ouch.” Spencer hisses, tutting amusedly. “You’re relentless today, aren't you?” His hands break from their hold on your hips and fold across his chest, and you feel an utterly irrational sense of disappointment. 

“I might not be Morgan, but I’m still an agent.” He glances down at your form, sizing you up like you’re a bothersome math equation. “Also, I’m guessing you weigh about as much as a small sack of potatoes, so you’ll be fine.” 

You scoff at that, but don’t argue back, and Spencer takes it as his green light. 

“Brace on my shoulders or you’ll make this very difficult for the both of us.” He replies, and you hesitantly place your hands on his shoulders, not wanting to get any closer to Spencer than you already are. 

He rolls his eyes. “Are you even trying?” 

“Geez, I’m so sorry I respect the personal space of others, I won't be so considerate next time.” You jab back, narrowing your eyes at him. He responds with an amused huff, but doesn't speak as he gently moves your hands to where he wants them. You shiver.

One ends up on his bicep, while the other wraps around the back of his neck. His hands fall back to your middle, but instead of settling back on your hips, his large hands mould to your waist, flexing as he finds his grip. They tighten and he pulls you closer than ever. You find yourself with nothing to say—witty retorts form in your throat, yet none seem willing to come out.

“Ready?” He says in your ear, voice low. 

“No,” you answer, still very apprehensive at his physical ability to get you all the way to the dock. 

“Too bad.”

Before you can retort, he lifts you with surprising strength and ease in one smooth movement, and you let out a small squeak at the suddenness of it all. He swings your body around, using the momentum to haul you onto the high dock, long fingers digging into the flesh of your hips to keep hold during the precarious lift. It was more of a controlled throw, if you’re being picky—which you always are.

You wobble slightly, but manage to gain your balance on the waterlogged wooden planks. You glance back to Spencer, who is standing stock-still on the little boat, eyes a little unfocussed. You watch as the warm hands that were just clenched on your waist flex once, twice, before he blinks a moment later and looks towards the dock. Towards you. 

“All good?” He asks, voice strained.

“I’ll live.” You stare at Spencer for a moment, before shaking yourself from your slight stupor and turning to head back up the hill. 

“Now hurry up,” you call over your shoulder. Spencer simply sighs, lifting himself easily from the boat and jogging to catch up, hauling your shared belongings onto his back. 

As you finally re-enter the precinct a little while later, Spencer peeling off to debrief the team, you swear your hips still tingle from where his hands were wrapped tightly around them mere minutes ago. 

But, like you said. You would think about that later.

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Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @thegloryofliterature <3 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[cocodotgreen]

Here is my Christmas build:

My take on Rosehill Cottage from the movie "The Holiday"

(Everyone rolling their eyes going "Not a ANOTHER Rosehill Cottage" 🙄😂)

I was almost finished building, when it came to me that I am probably not the first to have had THAT idea 🙈 I actually had a good laugh at the fact, that it took me so long to think of that 😂

So I asked the googler: turns out there are at least 5 other versions of Rosehill Cottage out there for the Sims 3... 😭😂

And then, the other day, I had @aistromelia's post pop up in my feed with gifs from another Rosehill Cottage inspired build with the exact same Christmas tree I used in the exact same location where I placed it in my version 🙈🙈 If you haven't yet, take a look at their post here! The gifs look absolutely amazing 😍😍😍 By that time I was already done playtesting my house, and had taken all the screenshots...

But I decided to go ahead with sharing it anyway. I had spent so much time on this build, and I had an absolute blast building and decorating it! One of the most fun builds I've ever done! It really helped me get into the Christmas Spirit! I figured that everyone's interpretation of this little cottage is going to be different anyway (except for the Christmas tree, apparently 😆)...

I highly recommend you use a mod that prevents objects from catching fire when placed near fireplaces like this one by @danjaley here. I placed several objects very close to the fireplaces and without a mod like this the house will turn into a charred pile of rubble in no time 😂

As with all my recent builds, I did use @omedapixel's Sims 3 Decorator Tools Mod. You don't necessarily need the mod to use the lot. As long as you do not move the objects that were placed with the mod, everything should stay in place. Only if you do some redecorating, and you happen to move one of the mentioned objects, they may slip back into normal mode and you will only be able to place them back with the mod.

I hope you guys will have as much fun playing in this house as I had building it! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you 🎄🎅🎁

Details:

1 bedroom, 1 bathroom

Unfurnished price: § 49.853

Furnished price cc-free version: § 74.101

Furnished price x-mas-cc version: § 76.250

Lot Size: 25 x 25

No store content used

All expansion packs used

Stuff packs used: 70ies, 80ies and 90ies Stuff (Designer Distress Easy Chair), Outdoor Living Stuff (The Rustic Table Lantern, Caged Candle), Fast Lane Stuff (Lulu's Loveseat)

There are two versions: The house is the absolute same in both versions , the only difference is that one has cc Christmas decorations and the other has not.

Credits:

The house is inspired by Rosehill Cottage from the movie "The Holiday".

The beautiful Christmas decorations are by @aroundthesims. They give the house such a festive, cozy atmosphere! Thank you so much 🥰 I didn't even use all the Christmas stuff they have! You can find more on their website here!

Download (SimFileShare)

Rosehill Cottage cc-free

Rosehill Cottage with cc-X-mas decoration (included)

[xo-cod]

Cockwarming simon and having a casual conversation but can't stop kissing and touching each other and moving a little bit so it's just talking about the most mundane stuff while kissing and moaning mid convo

i fell in love w this and it's so :") i hope you enjoy love.

cw: cockwarming, ooc/soft simon, rushed (but i can def go into more detail if you want 😵‍💫)

nothing in the world belongs to me but my love is mine, all mine

work had been tough.

it always was but this week had been incredibly difficult on him. not to mention with the fact that both of you had been so busy there hadn't been time for much of anything. he didn't think he could miss a person more, didn't think he could desire a person more than you. he all but rushed home, ignoring the looks from price and gaz and the call from johnny. he could deal with it all tomorrow, his mind and heart were after one thing. after one person.

and there you were, cuddled on the bed the remote in your hands as your eyes watched the movie mindlessly. the light illuminating your features making the moment that much more intimate. he definitely broke some rules on his drive over back home but it was all worth it, for this beautiful moment here.

"what's on?" his deep voice fills the air and your head turns, a soft chuckle leaving your lips when you see him pad through and feel the bed shift underneath his weight to come closer to you

"some rom com" came your answer and a soft laugh falls from his scarred lips, settling in right beside you.

"should've waited for me" he hummed, his fingers pulling off his skull balaclava as he took a soft breath in. humming in contentment when his lips meet your warm skin, nuzzling deep into your neck. you figured he would settle down, turn his tired eyes to the tv and watch with you until sleep ultimately claimed his body. though in your arms now, he was fidgeting and fussing unable to get close. somehow he couldn't seem to get comfortable and with a soft grunt, pulled back a little and eyed your pajamas as if they had offended him terribly

"can you... take these off, love? please?" he asked tiredly, already tugging on the hem of your top while his eyes flicked back to yours again

"you want it off?" you clarify and he nods, brown eyes burning with emotion while he shifts further into you even if he had been pressed so close to your body there hadn't been a slither of space available. and when you give him the nod of approval, his hands reach out and gently pull your top over your head. his palms skimming your warm body with delight, pressing his face closer as he peppers lazy kisses all across your chest and neck

"long day?" your tone is gentle, your arms around his neck as they gently scratch the back of his neck making him shiver with bliss. it had been one of weak spots and he adored how much you used it to your advantage

"long long day" came his response, a soft groan falling from his lips when he stretches his back a little, big hands roaming every expanse of skin he could reach. but still, even this wasn't enough for him.

"need you, need to be inside you lovie" he murmured softly, caging you securely inside his huge arms and being so close, you can smell his musk tinged with his cologne, your body reacting on autopilot. as if you couldn't deny the sweet man in your arms of anything anyway

simon's body finally relaxed for once throughout this long terrible day, arms wound closely around you. his lips nudge yours, his lips battling yours trying to steal your breath and hold it hostage with his lips. he drank in your sounds, his tongue swiping your lower lip as it dipped into your mouth

he nudged your legs apart with his knee, fingers hooked over the waistband of your underwear before he tugged it down and delicately placed it on the side of the bed. the head of his cock rubbed against the wetness of your slit. he loved teasing himself for a second or so, knowing just how good your wetness would feel around him. he could've got drunk high of this feeling every time, you never disappointed him.

a small groan when he pushes his hips a little, relishing in the way you already clenched around him. he's usually composed even through the highs of euphoria but it had been too damn long, a soft whimper escapes him at just how good you feel. he's not ghost, he's not someone that has to be in control right now. he's relinquished it all up to you, he's just someone that wants to be in the throes of pleasure again and again.

"christ, y'feel so bloody good baby" his breathing was laboured, words slurring softly as his eyes closed almost immediately when his hips thrust the slightest bit. it's not meant to be sexual tonight, he just needed to feel grounded and closer to you. he pushes until he bottomed out, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other came to the back of your neck to kiss you tenderly again and again. his face pressed in the crook of your neck as if it had been made for him, his breathing slowing down as his body calmed down for the first time that day.

"s'all yours lovie, m'yours" he could barely keep his eyes open, snuggled up close enjoying your warmth. finally feeling safe between your arms and the blanket wrapped around him

[hrtfelt4u]

collision. | anton lee.

045. no tomorrow. (written portion)

“Everything okay?” 

Anton asks as he approaches, coming back from getting refreshments for you both at the drive-in movie theater. His eyes search yours after seeing your agitated face from afar.

You had messaged Heeseung a week ago, rejecting him and having left that conversation on a goodbye. Another ping lit up your phone when Anton stepped away for a minute though, Heeseung having annoyingly messaged again, but this time on Instagram to your story you just posted of you and Anton. You didn’t even bother reading it, instead going straight to his profile and blocking him.

“Yeah,” You mutter while putting your phone away, “Just… someone annoying.” 

Anton chuckles a bit, finding your disturbance amusing because your features scrunched up cutely. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“Maybe after the movie. Thanks for getting the drinks, Tonie.” You nod towards the screen, moving aside the blanket so Anton could join beside you again. 

“You’re welcome. Sounds good,” Anton breathes out, resting his arm behind you again and kissing your forehead when you snuggle back into his side.

The rest of the movie-watching goes without a hitch. You both trade small comments and laugh at some of the scenes in the movie. You had already watched the film before but viewing it with Anton again was nice; almost like experiencing it for the first time again. 

When the film ends, you both clean up, as it got surprisingly messy within the one and a half hours you two had laid in Anton’s trunk. You teach him how to fold up the open ends of the chip bags without a clip with much hassle, the astounded boy not getting it on the first try and deeming you a magician. 

Sitting back in the front and passenger seat, Anton turns to you, an easy smile on his face. “Alright, where to next? We can’t end the night here.” 

“Mm, the park?” You suggest, and he nods without further argument, placing his large hand onto the expanse of your thigh. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Anton reverses out of the drive-in movie theater and heads to the closest park, most of the streets empty as it was pretty late in the night. 

“What got you so mad earlier? You know, when I came back with the drinks?” Anton asks at a red light, watching as you scoff at the mention of the occurrence. 

“You remember Heeseung? That guy that Hannie mentioned like… three weekends ago, asking for my number?” 

Anton’s stomach drops a little, not actually expecting a dramatic topic. “Yeah, why?”

“He messaged me, shooting his shot in my Twitter DMs last weekend. He must’ve seen my account after commenting on Megan’s post for Sunghoon’s style mag shoot.” 

“Why is it bothering you? Did he say something rude?” Anton inquires. 

You look out the window, watching the street lights blur together as you get on the highway. “He just was being a dick. Saying he knew I was Jake’s ex and that Jake ‘didn’t have to know.’ It was odd. Anyway, I’ve blocked him now.”

“That’s fucked. I mean, they’re friends, no? Mutuals at least?” 

“I’m guessing so,” You sigh, “I’m not sure why it’s bothering me so much. Maybe just bringing back bad memories.” 

“Sorry for bringing it up then, baby.” Anton rubs his thumb on your thigh back and forth in apology. 

You clutch his hand on your lap. “No, don’t be. I’m sorry for bringing up ex stuff all the time. It can’t feel nice.” 

Anton purses his lips as he signals to take the exit, reluctantly nodding. “Well, truthfully yes but… you come with baggage and flaws, and I do too. I’ll accept all of you, good and bad. Besides, I don’t think you mention Jake a lot at all. You just want to show where you’re coming from and I’m prompting you to talk about it most of the time.” 

You smile at Anton’s wisdom, taking your free hand to brush through the soft hairs on the back of his head. “Wow, so wise. You’re practically a relationship expert.” 

“God, no,” Anton laughs, taking a left turn, “I actually was an awful boyfriend back in high school.”

“In what way?” 

Anton sighs, seemingly reflecting on it, “I was way too busy and selfish. I definitely shouldn’t have dated knowing I couldn’t put the time into taking the relationship seriously. So I definitely hurt her feelings in the end.” 

“Do you regret it?” You ask in genuine curiosity.

“No. It taught me to be more considerate and cautious. That’s why I was single for most of the past three years in college.” 

“Then why’d you decide on me now?” 

Anton looks over to you at that, your eyes so gentle watching him. He smiles, planting a kiss to your cheek at another light. 

“Because you’re very much worth it. And no offense to the few women I’ve talked to in college but—! I’ll make time for you, always.” 

“Yeah?” You grin, heart pumping fast at Anton’s sweet words.

“Yes. I’m free from swimming for now, I’m on 12 credits for the semester with an internship, and I have all the liberty to date seriously.” 

Anton soon turns into the park, and settles into a spot smoothly. Both of you unbuckle your seatbelt but don’t move to exit the car, instead turning to one another with soft touches. 

“How do you think we’re doing?” You shyly look up, meeting Anton’s gaze which is already on you. 

“I think we’re doing great. Are you nervous about something?” 

Anton seemed to read you so well. You were glad for it; it helped to bring up discussions that were more hard to have. 

“I’m kind of scared of how much I like you, as stupid as that sounds.” You laugh to ease tension, caressing Anton’s bicep in nervousness. You seemed to have a habit of doing it when he was being particularly direct. You never dealt with forwardness all too well. 

“That’s not stupid,” Anton chuckles, curling hair behind your ear. “If anything you’re being smart.”

“Why?”

“What if I brought you to this empty parking lot to murder you?” Anton jokes and you bare your teeth to pinch at his arm. 

“You know I hate jokes like that! I get scared easily!” You’re turning around in your seat to look in the windows now.

“I’m kidding, baby! I’m sorry,” Anton laughs, grabbing at your tense shoulders to still your movements, “I’m just joking. We’re safe.” 

“If a murderer came right now, would you be able to fight him off?”

“... Depends on how big he is.” 

“Sooo you’re saying you’d sacrifice me first?” 

Anton turns around left and right, as if looking for an audience, “When did those words leave my mouth?” 

You giggle, tilting onto the headrest and singing, “I’m kidding…” 

“Alright, but seriously. It’s okay if you’re scared. I’m kind of scared too.” 

“Why?”

Anton shrugs, chest expanding with a deep breath, “I think I want to treat you very well and, frankly, I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You wouldn't disappoint me, trust me. You’ve exceeded relationship expectations I’ve had in the past by miles.” 

Anton shakes his head mirthfully, “Well, why are you scared?” 

“I…” You bite your lip, trying hard to word things carefully, “I wear my heart on my sleeve very easily. In the past, I had wanted a relationship for so long, I feel like now, I never know when it’s the right time to actually commit. If that makes sense…” 

You gesture between you two, “I mean, if you think about it, we’re practically dating. We’ve established we’re only talking to each other. We go on dates, we text every day, we kiss, hug, cuddle, and call each other nicknames. We’re talking about how we function in relationships, our boundaries… I’m confident I want to be with you, I’m just a little…”

“Scared to have a label?” Anton finishes your sentence. 

“Yes. I don’t want you to think I don’t want to be your girlfriend, I want to! I’m scared to get hurt again. I guess that’s the final feeling I have.” 

Anton nods, rubbing away the wrinkles on your forehead. “Look, I don’t want to put unnecessary pressure on you, I’m not going anywhere. Just know that I will be happy to be your boyfriend whenever you’re ready for me to be. Nothing will change and I will be treating you the way I’ve hopefully been treating you well for the past month or so. Okay?”

“You sure?” 

Anton laughs at your ridiculous question. “Are you kidding me? I am head over heels infatuated with you! If you’re rejecting me now, we’re gonna have a big issue!” 

You throw your arms around Anton who catches you effortlessly, rocking him back and forth. 

“Tonie, where have you been?” You ask metaphorically, so happy to have found him.

“Um… probably locked away in the swimming pool. Waiting for you though!” 

You pull away, planting a long kiss to Anton’s lips. Mind made up and convinced, you pull up the courage to finally ask Anton the question.

“Can I just say fuck it then?”

Anton’s brows furrow, smiling stupidly big but confused. “What do you mean?”

“Want to be my boyfriend?” 

You can practically feel Anton light up, his broad shoulders rising high as his grip around your torso tightens. 

“Yes, a million times, yes. Will you do me the amazing honor of being my girlfriend?”

Playfully, you look off into the distance, pursing your lips like you’re considering.

You shrug, “Eh, I guess.” 

Anton laughs into your mouth, giving you multiple quick pecks before diving into your neck. The ticklish feeling has you shoving at Anton’s shoulder, pulling back from his embrace. You’re practically halfway across the console, hips painfully digging into the sharp edges.

“That tickles!” You rub at your neck, settling back down into your seat. 

Anton pouts at that, hands holding your elbows while clingy. He pulls a card from your book while frowning, “So you hate me.”

You burst into laughter, head bumping into the window behind you. Anton quickly clutches at the area of your head you hit against his car, laughing hard as well. 

“Baby, be careful! Oh my God!” 

You’re breathless, your amusement dying down. You connect your lips passionately once more, pouring all of your feelings into it. 

Anton returns with fervor, fingers pinching your chin and licking into your mouth. Your stomach jumps at the brave move, accepting him in. 

You’re practically following Anton when he pulls away with a soft hold of your bottom lip, breathless. 

“Anton?” 

“Yeah?” Anton asks, eyes tied to your kiss-bitten lips. 

“… Let’s go back to mine.” 

Anton practically tugs your seatbelt across your body, clicking it in with such speed, it’s a blur. Before you know it, he’s reversing out the lot and is on the road, hand clutching your thigh and grinning like there’s no tomorrow.

|

(ignore timestamps unless stated otherwise)

author's note: they are official :3 the cuties are now dating!!! how adorableeeee

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taglist: @jvngw0nlvr @lcvehee @meongryeongi @nujeskz @fae-renjun @buns-inhiding @tadadw @r11zejjang @tkooooop @jkeydiary @yuyita-rosier @mbella607 @janjoonty @bartxnhood @i03jae @slowlylefttyphoon @strwberie

pls comment, dm, or send an ask to join/leave the taglist.

(c) hrtfelt4u 2025

[heroesriseandfall]

Jason Todd & Chronic Pain

I scrounged for the panels I know from Rebirth about Jason still having lingering pain and injuries from when the Joker killed him. We know Jason had substantial injuries and brain damage when he was resurrected, and Talia healed that with the Lazarus pit. But here’s some I know of being mentioned even after Talia healed him with the Lazarus pit.

The first I know of is when evil future Batman Tim targeted Jason’s hip because of a Joker-related injury that he claimed would eventually become debilitating for Jason. This move does take Jason out of the fight so it definitely seems like evil Tim successfully aggravated the injury.

Detective Comics #968 (Jan 2018) — earlier in #966 Batman Tim also mentioned future Jason would eventually lose an eye and a leg while fighting assassins.

More recently, regular, not-evil Tim referenced it while evaluating how to fight a Clayface Jason mimic:

Tim Drake: Robin #3 (Jan 2023) — Tim says the pit brought Jason back, which has sometimes been a thing. Originally Jason was only healed by the pit after he’d already been resurrected by something else.

This next one was black label, so it may or may not be canon (the creative team claims “it’s up to reader interpretation” and disagree on whether they personally think it is canon). I’m not a fan of the comic but it did pretty clearly indicate Jason had chronic pain from the Joker:

Batman: Three Jokers #2 (Nov 2020)

(There might be more than these—my reading of post flashpoint comics is kinda random and incomplete compared to my reading of post-Crisis. In post-Crisis though I think they mainly put emphasis on Jason’s destabilized mental health and didn’t really bring up physical aspects IIRC. His brain damage seemed healed and yet he seemed more affected after the pit than other one-time-in-the-pit characters like Dinah Lance or Cass Cain were.)

They haven’t bothered explaining how the pit didn’t heal them so far as I know (the pits kinda work to authorial convenience anyway). My route is usually to blame any weird Jason stuff on the strange, multiversal circumstances of his resurrection, but versions of his origin where he’s only brought back by the pit might not jive with that (which includes some Rebirth IIRC).

In any case, I do hope more writers pick up on this more and I love to see when it’s expanded upon a bit in fandom. I would already consider Jason’s mental health to be a disabling issue for him but it’s neat sometimes to have writers recognize chronic pain-related issues among DC characters. (I’d love to also see more expansion of Bruce mentioning he experienced chronic pain…it pops up every so often but rarely if ever in depth.)

Alt text is copied and expanded upon under read more below.

ID 1: Two panels from Detective Comics #968 showing Jason Todd as Red Hood leaping to fight evil future Batman Tim Drake. Jason says, “Sorry, Timmy, I don’t believe in Santa Claus.” Batman Tim slams his staff directly into Jason’s right hip joint, sending him flying back, and says, “Jason. In a few years you were going to learn that one of your bones never set right after the Joker killed you. There’s a growing debilitating bone spur in your hip joint. There, I found it for you you’re welcome.” They’re both in the batcave.

ID 2: A cropped panel from Tim Drake: Robin #3 showing a red narration box for Tim Drake which says: “The Lazarus Pit may have brought Jason back from the dead, but he’s still sensitive where The Joker killed him.”

ID 3: A comic page from Batman: Three Jokers #2. A Joker leans in Jason Todd’s face, looking intense and serious. The Joker says, “Who is the Joker, really? We’re going to find out.” The word “out” is written in an extended sing-songy way. The Jokers put Jason’s Red Hood helmet over his head but they’ve decorated it with a wide Joker-style grin. The two Jokers laugh, then one says, “We’ve spent considerable time trying to best answer that question: who is the Joker? We found that judge. A serial killer. A surgeon. All rather predictable and uninspiring. And then there’s you. Tell me something. Why would you put on that helmet and call yourself Red Hood after what we did?” Jason, who is sitting naked tied to the wooden chair, says, “Come on. Is every one of you copycats gonna ask me the same thing? It’s a joke.” One of the Jokers holds up a crowbar as the other says, “A joke? We left you with brain damage and permanent nerve pain. Physical and emotional trauma so severe that the only relief you ever find is when you inflict pain on others.” The Joker holds the crowbar by Jason’s head. “You and me, boy…..We’re more alike than you’d care to admit.”

ID 4: A comic page from Batman: Three Jokers #2 showing Jason Todd with no shirt on and small bandages on various parts of his arms and face. He looks at a calendar on a wall and reads the crossed out days that have physical therapy sessions written on them. He sees a stack of various healing and exercise books. The top book is titled Chronic Pain Management by Dr. D. Kresan. He picks it up. Barbara Gordon as Batgirl enters a different, dark room through a window.

ID 5: A comic page from Batman: Three Jokers #2 showing Barbara Gordon as Batgirl entering her own bedroom. She says, “Jason?” She sees a book on her bed titled “Chronic Pain Management” by Dr. D. Kresan. Jason says, “Barbara?” and walks out of the attached bathroom with only a towel around his waist. Babs says, “I figured you’d left.” Jason says, “I hope it’s okay I used the shower and I…I didn’t mean to go through your things. The closet door was open and that book looked…useful.” Babs says, “It was. Are you okay?” Jason has small bandages and bruises on his face as he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay.” Babs looks concerned. Jason continues saying, “What the Joker said…about how I’ve been on the path to being like them for years…they’re not wrong. I don’t want to be like them though. I really don’t. You believe that, right?” Babs says, “I’m willing to.” Then Jason says, “Can I ask you something?”

[ask-codeearasure]

Color Spectrum Duo: Weed

Inspired by an exchange with @howlsofbloodhounds

Cw: marijuana usage

There was a first time for everything. In Killer's case, it appeared marijuana was a myth to him until today. Frankly speaking, resorting to weed for a bonding experience was one of the last things on Color's list, but Killer was curious, and who was Color to deny him?

Well. He did deny him more than one blunt, cause he wasn't about to foster an addiction even though Killer had many arguably worse things to his name. Sue him for being a responsible friend, he supposed.

They had gone to a cabin in the outskirts of the wilderness, somewhere on the Earth of one of Outertale's pacifist timelines. Not that Killer had to know that; Color specifically picked a spot that covered up as many stars as possible come night, even if that was a result of many many years of light pollution.

Color reclined in his chair, shifting his line of sight from the sunset to the other skeleton smoking with him on the porch. It was difficult to tell how far gone Killer was in his haze, the absence of eyelights made that apparent, but the lack of DETERMINATION leaking out of his sockets was a good sign.

All things considered, he was... somewhat relaxed. Even as he leaned over the porch's railing, Killer's grip on his knife had gone lax as he balanced the blade on his right index finger, focusing on nothing specific as the both of them sat in silence.

"You good, Kills?" Color asked, crossing one leg over the other.

Killer paused, practically spitting out smoke as he held the blunt away from his mouth with his left hand and twirled it between his middle and index fingers. He muttered something in garbled Arabic, then looked over his shoulder at Color when his flaming host didn't offer a response to that.

"What would it look like if I wasn't?" The murderer replied with an empty tone, words slurring at the ends. "Were you hoping these things poison me or something?"

"Naaah, Mary Jane isn't known to poison people." The demigod stretched, popping out the stiffness in his back. "At least not creatures like us. We don't have lungs or brains to rot over the expanse of time."

"...Mary Jane?" Killer squinted.

"It's uh... that would be another name for this stuff. Marijuana, weed, Mary Jane, dope, grass, pot, pakalolo, 420, ganja, they all refer to the same thing-- don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Killer asked, tilting his head to the side as if he were analyzing one of his dusted specimens. "I'm just curious, Color. How do you know all this, as a law abiding citizen?"

Now was Color's turn to squint, sitting up to properly stare at Killer with a confused look.

"This isn't illegal knowledge, dude. Can be illegal to have weed in some areas, but not to know about it."

"Don't dodge the question." Killer said, taking another hit from his blunt. "I also asked how you know this."

"Why, cause you didn't?" Color chuckled under his breath. "Epic told me."

"Who?"

"The guy in the purple and black coat? Always keeps one eye closed, says 'bruh' a lot. That guy?"

"Huh. Thought he was the angry orange one."

"You're thinking about Delta. Wait, you don't remember Epic?"

"Should I?"

The flaming skeleton sighed through his nasal, blinking away the slight change in sight as his pupil narrowed to a sliver.

"I was hoping you would, but it's okay if not. He was barely present last you saw him."

Color took a hit, holding the smoke in his mouth for a second before shooting it out in a ring formation, noting how it stole Killer's attention.

"Anyways, I am curious about something. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, of course."

Killer let his knife lose balance, the handle falling back into a tactile grip.

"Ask away."

"Who are you talking about when you mention 'The Player'? I never caught onto the meaning."

Color's first guess was Killer was referring to an entity similar to Chara, Flowey, or Frisk, something with so much DETERMINATION they could dictate the passage of time and events of the reality they had both originated from. But Chara, Flowey, and Frisk were children at the end of the day. They weren't 'Players' in terms of being a god or an eldritch creature. They were just... unfortunate, and the inexperience of their youth was part of what led them from point a to point b.

After a moment of silence, Killer cleared his throat, spitting a glob of murky black DETERMINATION over the railing. He pulled up a porch chair and took a seat, putting out his blunt on the bottom of his shoe.

"Thought you would have caught onto what those are by now." "Killer, I'm autistic. I'm bound to be dense sometimes."

Killer barked an empty laugh, shaking his head. "You? Dense? Come on, Color, we both know you're gonna find my response very familiar. I mean you hang out with Ink often enough, dontcha?"

Color gave a slight frown. "...I wouldn't say often, but continue."

"Ink calls them Creators. But I call them what they are: Players. They're everywhere, always watching, playing with us like... puppets. The only reason either of us are alive, that either of us are even talking, is because they wanted us to be."

The dragon felt his ribcage rattle slightly, and he took a hit to make more smoke rings, just to calm his nerves. They were both high, he had to remind himself. Getting upset now would offer no guarantee of neither of them getting hurt.

Then again, hanging out with Nightmare's favorite toy was practically asking to get hurt. At least, that was Killer's reasoning.

Color disagreed. Killer could be so much more than what he thinks he is.

"So do you think I want to help you because one of them wants me to?"

"Yes. And you will die trying."

"I mean... if that's what it takes..."

Color blew out another round of rings when he felt a small, ashy weight land in his skull. He jolted in his seat, choking on the remaining smoke and his flames making erratic bursts until he finally managed to yank out the remainder of Killer's blunt.

Asshole.

"Killer, what the FUCK!?" The growling beast rounded on his angelic companion, but he wasn't at all phased, head turned to the smoke rings dissipating in the near distance.

"Do it again."

"...pardon?"

"Those rings. Make them again."

Color raised the only figurative brow he had and took a hit, releasing another round. Killer didn't hesitate to try grabbing one, but his fingers phased through the smoke without much bite. He tried with the second, then the third, ending with the same result, his lack of emoting being replaced with faint disappointment for only a flash. Color created another round, and at some point Killer had resorted to sitting on the railing to get better access to where they blew. He had gotten his knife stuck in the wood from when he tried to stab one, but that seemed more out of frustration than any scientific theory.

It didn't occur to Color it was getting dark until the only part of Killer he could clearly make out was the glow of his soul. But when he turned away to switch on the porch light, whatever thoughts he had in the moment were interrupted by a barely audible whine.

That... was new.

"Killer?"

His friend didn't answer, splitting a new hole in the railing to retrieve his knife, which he pocketed. Color closed the distance between them, stopping just out of range of Killer's personal bubble.

"Kills? Buddy, it was just smoke, I can make more-"

Killer grabbed Color's cheekbones, trapping his face between his hands. Color felt his clawed phalanges dig in to sustain a firm grip, then pull out. The dragon grunted, but withstood the minor discomfort if that meant Killer could ground himself.

His eye blinked back open when he felt said claws retract, continuing to let Killer hold his face like it was a confusing box of puzzle pieces.

"You're real." Killer said, the shape of his soul beginning to fluctuate, the ghost of an overturned heart amongst the mixture.

"Yeah, I'm real." Color affirmed, slowly reaching up to cup one of Killer's cheeks, brushing away a budding bit of DETERMINATION from the corner of his eye. "Were you wandering?"

"I don't know."

Killer let his hands fall, his soul stubbornly shaping itself back into a target. Color retracted his own hand, shoving it into a pocket.

"Wanna go inside? I made bechamel earlier."

"...okay."

[navstuffs]

Synesthesia

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

Summary: "A condition in which stimulation of one sense generates a simultaneous sensation in another". Or aka the fic where Gojo Satoru fucks you inside his domain expansion.

Trigger Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, SMUT, tiny squint of dubcon (reader goes mind blank inside the domain), creampie, multiple powerful orgasms, reader gender isn't mentioned

Author's Notes: probably the hardest smut i have ever written. idk how many times this has been done in the fandom (im sure tons) and one time i read this INSANELY good fic abt it and have never found it again. anyway, enjoy! credit on the images from this post right here.

other gojo fics

An average person will feel many sensations in this world, either physically and/or spiritually (if you believe in that type of stuff). Before meeting Gojo Satoru, your emotions were still there to remind you, hey, you are human: come and feel us; you can't stop us.

Everything changed after you met Satoru.

Gojo Satoru wasn't normal. Even in your first meeting, even without being a cursed user, you could tell something was off about him in the best way possible. The white hair, the ethereal blue eyes behind the sunglasses, or the fact that he consumed sweets as someone should be consuming water. Even your concerns about diabetes didn't feel necessary with this man. 

And then you started dating him. Yes, you, the average human being of this world, the single person in the million of eight billion or more. And he chose you, fell for you, for some crazy idea in his head. You became his new drug in the best way possible. Gojo Satoru could never have had enough of you. 

The kisses were intoxicating, and his neediness was that of someone who could not hear the word "no." Satoru would pout like a child, his head down enough that you could see his eyes shining through his sunglasses. And you would say "yes" as if only that vision persuaded you (it was your heart speaking).

Now, fucking Gojo Satoru, that was on a whole new level. At this point, you knew of the curses, the Jujutsu world, and the fact that somehow you are dating the strongest of that universe (?!). Fucking Gojo Satoru was not like fucking your other lovers. Satoru was entirely in during sex. As in head, soul, mind, the total package deal. And it was only fair you gave him the same. 

-x-

"What would happen to normal humans inside your domain expansion?" 

The question is met with curiosity by Gojo, who is wearing his black bandana today. He ponders for a moment, one finger toward his chin (because you said once he looked cute doing it, and he does it every time now). "They probably wouldn't be able to see it. Just feel it."

"Could it be considered safe?"

"Mhmmm, let me think. For some milliseconds. Why?"

"Nothing."

Oh, but Satoru had already perceived your interest. Your eyes did not meet his, and you tried to look away, embarrassed. His smile grew from his side lips until Satoru questioned, his voice low, " Is there anything I should know of?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

-x- 

That's how you end up on top of him, his dick buried deep inside your body. It is already overwhelming, suffocating almost, the air being pulled from your lungs every time your hips meet his, and you weren't even inside his domain yet. Satoru insisted on starting slowly for your safety: 0.1, 0.2 seconds max, according to his estimation. 

"Now?"

"Are you close?" You shake your head impatiently, furrowing your brows. "Didn't think so."

Differing from all the other nights, you sense Satoru's tension. He can't relax, not even without you moaning in his ear. It's not that Satoru believes he will hurt you; Satoru has to consider the slight possibility of what could happen if he lost control for a tiny second and ended up frying your brain on accident.

"'Toru. Focus on me." You demand, squeezing his nipple so he can come back to you.

Satoru reacts: he starts rubbing in between in the middle of your legs, stroking your sex in a way only he knew how to do, after weeks of studying your reactions every time you had sex. In less than two weeks, the prick had learned places you haven't even discovered yet. It had to be six eyes, giving your body away like that. Biting where the neck meets your shoulder together with a particular way of fucking you and hitting on the place that made you see stars could make you cum in minutes. You are thankful he is the strongest because Satoru had ruined you for any other person who existed. 

"Focus, honey."  His voice is steady, his chest heaving up and down.

If someone asked you how a mere mortal felt bringing God to his knees, you would know exactly how to explain. That's exactly how you felt fucking Satoru. Like now, with his hands on your hips, helping you sink inside further every time, your open palms resting on his chest for support. It feels powerful and mythical; his mouth parted away like that, licking his lips from time to time. Satoru is a proud moaner, loud and about - but for this time, his forehead is furrowed in concentration, and barely any noises are coming from him. If it were any other time, Satoru would have helped you or taken control when it had gotten too much for his small patience to handle, moving his hips until you were a blabbering mess.

But now, he has to be focused on not harming you. The situation is even more thrilling if you think like that. Bring a God to his knees because if you don't, he might kill you with his power.

"Satoru!" You moan, needy. A warning that you are getting close.

His white hands raise, and you watch (as always) fascinated as the bandana comes off, even forgetting about your looming orgasm. Gojo Satoru is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, and if you believe in reincarnation, about ten more lives. He has a smirk on his lips now, happy with the way he affects you. I mean, how couldn't he? 

"Domain expansion, Unlimited Void."

Everything stops. The air stops moving, and time stops. You are paralyzed, your eyes wide, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. Your mind goes blank in the total sense of that word; you can't form a single thought. You forget your name, can't remember your parents' names, or where you were born, what you do. 

At the same time, everything is being shown to you; your consciousness is there, floating lost in the sky, but you can't grasp it. The only thing you can feel is your orgasm, but even that feels like it has toned down, a small explosion the size of a jelly bean growing inside your stomach.

The next thing you know, you wake up in Satoru's arms, gasping for air, shaking, with tears coming down your eyes. You can't stop squirming, and you realize it is your orgasm, with so much energy that could light up an entire city, spreading in your veins and going back into your brain at a swift speed, amplifying your senses. Then you find yourself staring at Satoru's blue eyes, and your mind goes blank again, but not like when you were inside the Unlimited Void. No, now you can feel everything: Satoru's love, Satoru's shooting his cum inside of you, Satoru's hand gripping your hips, the scream coming out of your throat!

Satoru is murmuring something, praising you, saying he loves you, but you pass out again, and the entire world goes black. Satoru holds you, feeling your heartbeat, not placing his bandana on his eyes, your body twitching unconsciously. 

You return to him after a few minutes - if anyone asked Gojo, precisely two minutes, twenty seconds, two exact milliseconds, almost three. 

"'Toru?" Your voice sounds exhausted, grateful, and in disbelief all at the same time.

"I'm here, honey. I'm here. You are okay." He kisses your forehead, holding you tightly in his arms, still buried deep inside you.

Later, when you ask, Satoru will answer that he had felt your orgasm within you. He had never seen you so out of this world, literally dumbfucked. He won't confess he got worried for a second and ended up placing you inside his domain for ONLY one millisecond. You also won't confess yet that you wanted to try again, up to 0.3 seconds (normal humans wouldn't survive), but who cares? You want Satoru to fry your brain. Instead, you will roll your eyes at his answer, slapping his arm playfully, and he won't even turn infinite on because it is you. And who is he to ever deny you? You who finally made his life whole. 

You that had a God wrapped around your finger.

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

[razielim]

Idk about the rest of you, but I don't think I really understood what colonialism really is until I read Machiavelli who frames it as essentially an aggression strategy, with its own well-established risks and rewards.

In school, they really made colonies sound like primarily an exciting process of overseas discovery, launching points for further exploration. It was, of course, paid for by monarchs who wanted to see economic benefit. And yes, there was a bit of a race between competitors, with some military action, but all in all, I got the impression that colonialism was a word invented after the fact and used to describe the novel situation that resulted from curiosity and attempts to establish new sources of revenue in far-flung lands.

I never got the impression in school that the concept of a "colony" was already well-known to the European powers or that it was a strategy they could pull out of their toolbag at any time to mess with other states - not just overseas on "free" land but even back home in Europe, to capture land from rival states and to undermine resources and access.

And at that age, I'd read Roman histories outside of school, which might have also used the word, but even then, at most I registered it as a modern word used for ancient happenstance that fit the bill, rather than a strategy that empire consciously pursued. Roman expansion was depicted to be purely a patronizing "We carry enlightenment." It was only recently in Fortunes of Africa that I saw Rome's motivation framed as "We have a problem that needs solving, and funding/outfitting colonies is the solution." Which is somewhat different from the Machiavelli thing, but it's also a far cry from the sort of white toast understanding of colonization that I got from school and those more bog-standard Roman history textbooks, and certainly matches the impression I picked up from Machiavelli that colonialism is not an accident or byproduct; it's a strategy.

Anyway, this feels especially egregious to me because I'd read post-colonial theory for class in college and even that wasn't able to frame for me that there's not anything neutral about the conception of colony itself. Those texts mostly dealt with the effects of colonialism and the dignity of people colonized, never breaking down what colony actually is. As if it's something itself only mildly rude but with devastating consequences that can be avoided if you just turn back and decide not to get a foothold somewhere out of the goodness of your heart. Hell, I read books like Black Against Empire and True Flag nodding along like "Yup, yup, empire is an asshole move," and even still never tied "empire" to "colony" properly. Vaguely, yes. An empire is an entity that colonizes, yes. But not in the sense that each colony is something you have to invest in as a separate and distinct strategic choice every time. And not the way it finally clicked when Machiavelli just offhandedly mentioned it as "Yeah, yeah, colonialism. We've all seen considered it," when talking about any state, not just those that qualify as a whole-ass empire in most people's minds.

So... I'm sitting thinking right now about how it's a small wonder it can be so difficult to convince people that Europeans did something bad during their race to colonize Africa and the New World, actually. (Or Americans during their western expansion. Many now cringe at the phrase "Manifest Destiny" but if you avoid invoking it, the "exploration" of it all is perceived as a morally neutral action.)

Of course it's difficult. Because "Slavery was bad, yeah. And sure, lots of people got totally shafted in the shuffle, but colonialism? That stuff just like, happens, man. What were they supposed to do, not go exploring?" That's not what they did, though, is it? Colonization is expensive and risky, and it doesn't happen on accident.

[miqo-tales]

A tiny primer on FFXI, pt 2

THE BAD GUYS

THE SHADOW LORD

The big bad of FFXI's first main storyline. He's in the promotional artwork for the 7.1 patch, so he's definitely gonna show up somewhere. Possibly as the final boss of the first tier.

20 years before the start of FFXI, the Shadow Lord appeared without warning. Enlisting the various beastmen races in the Middle Lands, he attacked the three nations and pushed them to the brink of destruction.

The Archduke of Jeuno convinced the nations of San d'Oria, Bastok, and Windurst to ally together in order to fight back. After a long stalemate, the allied forces finally achieved some major victories, and at last a small team of heroes infiltrated Castle Zvahl and defeated the Shadow Lord.

As you play through the initial rank missions of FFXI, you find that forces are working to revive the Shadow Lord, and eventually you fight him.

A variant of him is the boss (and super boss) of the final Dynamis battlefield (the initial set of them, anyway), and he shows up in the storyline of FFXI's fourth expansion.

The Shadow Lord's backstory is actually pretty interesting, and I consider it one of the better parts of FFXI's lore/story. But I won't mention it here cause it spoils so much stuff.

THE BEASTMEN

There's a myriad number of animals, birds, vermin, undead, and even elementals that can kill you in FFXI, but arguably the biggest threats are the Beastmen races.

There's over a dozen of them, but I'm only going to cover a few that might show up in the upcoming raid. The first three are more or less the direct antagonists to the three main nations.

ORCS - "brutish" might be the best way to describe this humanoid race. They have a strong lust for battle and conquest, and their hierarchy is based on strength and combat ability. Orcs originally came from the far north, and are actively invading the lands of San d'Oria. They have outposts in the nearby regions, and even converted Davoi monastery into a stronghold after taking it from the kingdom.

Orcs also employ warmachines, which are basically crude, manually-propelled tanks. They are imitations of massive siege engines used in the Crystal War.

QUADAV - bipedal turtles, Quadav are skilled with metallurgy and mining. It's such a big part of their culture that many Quadav names and titles are taken from metals and gemstones. They're in conflict with Bastok because its expansion has forced the Quadav out of territories they long occupied.

YAGUDO - a crow-like bipedal race, the Yagudo have an extremely strict religious culture and heirarchy, and, well, probably border on fanaticism. They're not interested in conquest or expansion, only to keep the lands they consider to be traditionally theirs. The Yagudo have a treaty of non-aggression with Windurst, but it involves Windurst providing regular large offerings to maintain the truce.

GOBLINS - Goblins can be found almost everywhere, and engage in trade with other beastmen as well as the Enlightened races. There's even a shop in Jeuno run entirely by Goblins. They make use of explosives and trust me, "Bomb Toss" was a terrifying thing to see a goblin use in battle.

(XIV re-used the XI Goblin model, so they look the same in both games.)

A subspecies, Moblins, live in their underground city of Movalpolas, and are highly skilled in refining and smelting ore, as well as developing steam technology and underground lighting.

KINDRED - Commonly known as "Demons", these horned, winged humanoids are found in the cold, northern regions of Quon. Their origins are mostly unknown, but during the Crystal War they served the Shadow Lord and kept the other beastmen armies under control.

(FFXIV re-used their model for some enemies in early quests and dungeons, and they occasionally pop up in other stuff. A good example is in Tam-Tara Deepcroft: the enemy you fight before you can destroy the cultist orb is a demon model.)

OTHER PEOPLE

Some other notable NPCs or creatures/bosses that could maybe show up in this raid series (i.e., not just in 7.1)? Or at least get referenced.

Shantotto - Shantotto is arguably the mascot character of FFXI, and if she doesn't show up in person in this raid series, I'll be shocked. She's a Tarutaru and an extremely proficient and powerful black mage, and a former government minister of Windurst.

Lion - A Hume thief, and adopted daughter of Gilgamesh, the leader of Norg (a settlement of pirates and thieves). She's the "cute girl important to the plot" for the Rise of the Zilart expansion and accompanies and assists your character during it.

Prishe - A young Elvaan girl that is the "cute girl important to the plot" for the Chains of Promathia expansion. Because of an incident during a baptism ceremony, she became immortal, so she's actually quite older than she looks. She's brash, foul-mounted, impatient, and due to her immortality, tends to be self-sacrificing. Prishe is the other FFXI character that tends to be a guest in crossovers, and sure enough, she's in the 7.1 artwork, so she'll show up somewhere.

Nashmeira, Lilisette, and Iroha - "cute girl important to the plot" for Treasure of Aht Urghan, Wings of the Goddess, and Rhapsodies of Vana'diel respectively. I suspect if they do show up, it'll be in later patches, so I'll save talking about them for later.

Naja Salaheem - a Mithra with a big mace, she's the President of Salaheem's Sentinels, a mercenary company in Aht Urghan. Naja cares about profit, how much profit you made for her recently, and why you're just standing there when you could be making profit for her right now. And she does not care about small details like "but you told me to come see you". I honestly dunno if she'll show up in the XI raid at all, but she's really well-known and popular, so I think there's a chance.

Kam'lanaut and Eald'narche - The former is the Archduke of Jeuno, and the latter is his brother. They're also the main antagonists of the Rise of Zilart expansion.

Ark Angels - Summoned by the Archduke and his brother to assist them, they represent the Sins of the five races: Hume's Apathy, Elvaan's Arrogance, Mithra's Envy, Galka's Rage, and Tarutaru's Cowardice. You eventually fight them during Rise of the Zilart, and you can either fight them one at a time, or all five at once. I dunno if they'll show up, but I want them to, cause they're cool looking and I wanna see them in FFXIV graphics.

Maat - Maat is a bit like Godbert, in the sense that he's an old man that can kick anyone and everyone's ass. Once you hit level 50 in XI, you have to do a series of quests for Maat to increase your level cap up to 75 (thankfully you only have to do them once per character, not per job). The last of these "limit break" quests (for base game and Zilart jobs) requires fighting Maat solo, with Maat as the same job as you.

Odin - Yea, Odin is already in FFXIV, but his XI incarnation is actually pretty important to a few stories in XI.

Fafnir - A Notorious Monster, or NM, that could drop a special sword called Ridill. SQEX showed an image of a dragon during the recent Korean fanfest that I think has been confirmed to be Fafnir, and in the Dragon's Aery location where he could be spawned, no less.

Kirin - A very powerful NM, usually called a HNM or High Notorious Monster. You had to force pop it using items that dropped from four other NMs, and if I remember right, it was a long fight that involved kiting some monsters around while the party/alliance killed others. If Fafnir is in, I think Kirin or something similar could be possible too.

Atomos - Atomos in FFXI eats timelines in order to maintain reality. I have a suspicion it might be involved in the XI raid's story.

[theageofsims]

I'm torn between Lovestruck and Businesses & Hobbies.

And that damn new one coming out. 😆

I'm leaning on Lovestruck just to not have to use some mods that I've been using (great mods, no issues, but just don't want my mods folder getting that big)...

But then wondering if I really wanna deal with all this extra relationship bullshit that will make it more complicated for me?

I don't know. I find it so irritating for me personally, to have what's been added with relationships and/or gender and sexuality. It isn't having it in the game that bothers me, it's that after so many years of me just making up stuff that wasn't always part of the game to now have to spend time with my Sims getting it I know other Sims only to have that sim be like I'm flattered, but I don't feel the same way it's like -- are you kidding me? Especially for legacy style gameplay where it's like omg they need to have an offspring NOW for this to continue and this Sim was supposed to be THE ONE... But now they aren't.

I can go into CAS and change things, but it's like this extra step.

In addition to this, it's like having relationship information outside of the romance menu -- I still haven't gotten used to it I am like what the hell why can't I find what I'm looking for?

I did read some bugs that happened with Lovestruck or they continue to happen and I'm like... Is this going to undo all of my Sims relationships? Or make them more complicated?

There's a lot that I create in my mind -- like A LOT. So like I said, I have no issues with all of the added gameplays, but it also has made it super confusing for me when it comes to relationships in the game.

I mean so much so that I have the Sims dating app in my game, on and off, for years now -- and it literally gets hardly any use because in my mind I'm like I'm gonna send them out into the world and they'll meet someone somewhere or even at work. And if they don't, I'll create someone in CAS and put them in the game.

Anyway -- so that's why I've got Lovestruck on the back burner -- but also, I'm not too into the furniture from that pack.

It's not like I'll never get Lovestruck -- I may just decide to get it by like tomorrow or something, who really knows -- but I'm also like wouldn't it be better for you to just get Businesses and Hobbies?

I really love that fireplace you can just plot in the center of a room, I also like a hairstyle or two, and I actually like some of the clothes (I'm not very particular with clothes -- never was and at this point, I here's so much of it in the game already) -- but it's also that damn lollipop maker that sticks out to me especially since I have a gameplay/story I left for like 2 years where one of my Sims is a candy shop owner... But also the pottery, I love and I'm sure I can find a use for making tattoos (I assume at least?).

So I don't know.

I feel like Lovestruck I would get more usage out of it with my legacy save as well as my Age of Sims, but the builder and food lover in me is like you know you want businesses and hobbies more...

As for the new pack -- I don't have even know what we're getting beyond fairies. I'm sure they already had the walkthrough? Or maybe they didn't? I don't even know. I am ALWAYS behind with Sims and totally okay with that fact, but just mentioning it.

I sort of was like maybe all of this nature stuff would be great for Age of Sims, but then I'm like wait is it all magical gardening stuff? Because if so then no. I don't know.

I also just got Life & Death like on May 1st, so I'm kind of like maybe ease up with the occult? I don't know. I need to see more of that pack, but that one won't be on sale for awhile... But at the same time, if I like that one more then it won't matter -- just best to get that one...

The damn back and forth. 🤦🏽‍♀️😆

I'll figure it out.. eventually!

I'll end up with all of the expansion/game packs at some point, I already know, but just which one is it gonna be this time around? Don't know. 🤷🏽‍♀️😂

[ideas-4-stories]

Sfw omegaverse anon -

The "omega bestie" thing was smth Shanks probably told Luffy - ((Shanks sees a tiny unscented little pup all alone and went "Oh it's free real estate" /hj.)) In actuality, Makino raised Luffy for a good deal of time, but he is a rambunctious child, and I think he'd pester Shanks for stories and songs and all sorts of things. Shanks is a softie and so absolutely caved. Luffy learned a lot of the pirate's code from Shanks as a very small child and he treated it like GOSPEL, bc Shanks was, is and always will be his hero. So he definitely also got some very silly stories about Shanks' youth, and Buggy starred in more than a few, but never explicitly by name, it was always "my best friend" or "my packmate" or, on really sentimental evenings, "my baby brother".

When Luffy first met Buggy in Orangetown, the few braincells he has left sparked a connection - blue haired, sweet smelling, silly, greedy, trickster clown man? Blue haired, sweet smelling, silly, greedy, trickster omega packmate of his semi-adopted dad? Yes, that math is mathing. Small world. Anyway, gotta beat this clown. His hands are rated E for Everyone.

So yeah Luffy definitely knows Buggy is an omega, and when Buggy mentions "we served on the same crew", it just clicks. It's not really a big deal to him anyway, it feels stupid to care about that kind of stuff. You could not PAY him to care (but if you want to try, it's best to pay in food).

But yeah, Rayleigh and Crocus just both went "Ah, the kids will be fine" and then the kids went and were very much Not Fine At All. But that's a conversation for a different time.

Their parental instincts only kick in when Buggy gets flirted with or when Shanks gets hit on with complete seriousness for followup. It's both obnoxious and also funny.

Shanks gets a heart flutter, and by nightfall his denden is ringing bc Rayleigh is 🤏 close to swimming out there what is going on, red-?

When Crocodile and Mihawk finally get their shit straight and start the whole Courting Thing, the Dad Squad Of Remaining Rogers are in perfect synchrony detecting a Disturbance In The Sanctity Of Their Children.

Crocus calls Rayleigh. Rayleigh talks to Crocus. Neither have Buggy's number. How did that happen? Damn. If only Rayleigh lived with a woman who has an expansive information network where she can check for Buggy's contact information. If only Buggy was part of a widely known business with contact information for business needs. If only they considered this information and just how many options they DO have at hand.

Instead, they call Shanks - Shanks who is having a meltdown because "Bugs is growing up" and "two Alphas, really?!"

This does NOT bode well.

One prospective courtship is one thing. TWO simultaneous courtships are complicated. Those two Alphas enacting the courtship being former warlords, a mafia boss and the world's greatest swordsman, is something else entirely.

Crocus is sharpening his harpoon, debating his options. Rayleigh is seriously debating free swimming to the New World. Things are about to go DOWN and it's chaos all around.

Meanwhile, on Karai Bari, the Cross Guild Poly has finally hit the Holding Hands Stage, because they're stupid, silly and none of them are actually working with anything resembling game. Buggy blushes every time Mihawk pulls out his chair, he melts whenever Crocodile gets the door for him, and he's absolutely LOSING IT every time they ask him to spar.

Fighting has become their love language somehow and every time Buggy lands a hit of some kind, the others damn near swoon, which makes HIM swoon, and the crew and mercenaries are just watching this like the weirdest slow burn soap opera ever conceived.

Anyway yee I'm sleepy so I'm off, byyyeee~~~~

Shanks definitely did a Roger, looking at Luffy asks around who's child this is and proceeds to pick him up to Benn’s dismay (That is not paid enough to deal with his captain’s bullshit) Good thing Makino raising Luffy for a good bit of time. Luffy pestering Shanks for all sorts of things too, that's so Buggy.

Shanks talking about talking about Buggy without saying his name, I wonder why he won't say Buggy’s name to Luffy. Maybe Shanks didn't want Luffy to go and find his packmate, but that didn't matter when Luffy met Buggy. Good thing Luffy has some braincells after all that training Garp put him through. And the ‘Yes, that math is mathing. Small world. Anyway, gotta beat this clown. His hands are rated E for Everyone’ Yeah that's so Luffy, like damn he don't spare anyone.

Not Rayleigh and Crocus thinking that Buggy and Shanks will be fine. Indeed that is a conversation for a different time. I understand that Crocus would of given the kids a few things they would need in life while Rayleigh probably like I taught shit, you are good. And dips into the night without saying goodbye to grieve his captain and be with Shakky (for some reason that seems like he would do that. Its a headcanon)

THEN not their parental instincts kicking when Buggy gets flirted with or when Shanks gets hit on with complete seriousness for fucking followup. OH NOOOOOOOOOOO, that’s not how parental instincts should be (I mean to be fair, neither were planning on having kids probably, but then Roger metting those two happened, but like… dudes that’s not how it’s supposed to work)-(Indeed it’s obnoxious and also kind of funny if you ignore that’s not parental instincts should work…) Shanks getting scolded by Rayleigh when his heart’s fluttering, I wonder who that person is, anyway Mihawk and Crocodile getting their shit together and start trying to court Buggy (you know he’ll first think that they are threahing him, so it takes sometime)

Started laughing at ‘the Dad Squad Of Remaining Rogers are in perfect synchrony detecting a Disturbance In The Sanctity Of Their Children’ I love that, you know it’s not only Rayleigh and Cronus because most of the veteran Roger Pirates helped raised them too (hc/)

Crocus and Rayleigh not having Buggy’s number is so them… but what if it’s the same number he always had and they think it’s the wrong number now? Have they bothered to check? Or if they had, Buggy had openly said it wasn’t Buggy’s number? There could be so much more drama, but anyway yeah if ony Rayleigh lived with a woman that can find people’s numbers because she got that information network, if only Rayleigh knows where his child’s business is, oh no it’s too sad that they can’t find anything…

THEY CALLED SHANKS! Oh no! That’s the last place to call to find Buggy and to check if he’s alright! That man is fucking drunk, crying, ranting and raving about this! Oh dear! RIP to Crocodile and Mihawk, even the littlest teasing bullying their clown will land them in bad graces if those men see it (dear gods what if they found out they beat the shit of Buggy one day, that’s when shit would it the fan. Buggy’s followers will have a fucking telenovela to watch, they just need to be a safe distance away because holy shit someone might fucking died in the crossfire) Truly things are about to go DOWN and it's chaos all around… “Big News” Morgan would having the time of his fucking life with this.

Meanwhile on Karai Bari Island, where nobody knows about what might happened later down the line! Awwwwwwwwww, they are now in the Hand Holding Stage!!! That’s so cute! It took awhile because of so many things, good thing they worked it out.

Mihawk and Crocodile being gentlemen to Buggy is amazing, and them asking to spar is like BIG invalidation for him. Fighting and bullying each other (affectionately) is definitely one of their love language. Truly is like the weirdest slow burn soap opera ever conceived.

[paperfriendd]

So this was sat in my junk folder been there since last week by the looks of it. Funny, I never got one last year? Oh well. As I've said previously when posting these it really doesn't seem like that long.

So with that I just wanted to say Hi and hope you're all doing good! Well, that's if anyones stuck around. It's been nearly two years since I last posted anything and at the time I actually had more to post which I think I did mention but yeah I had to do a fresh install of my pc so lost what I had. Then after that I was having issues with my game like the first time I've ever had any serious issues since it came out...lucky me I guess? And the last time I backed my legacy save up was before birthdays etc so yeah I kinda gave in with it. I have played my game since then mind with other saves but just not took any pictures but to be truthful over the past couple years I've had a love/hate relationship with the game. I've not been overly excited about the last few expansions or all the other stuff they've released and there are just more and more bugs appearing and when they fix any it seems new ones appear which then never get sorted or if they do something else breaks. Rinse and repeat 🙄

But anyway all that aside as I said I just wanted to come and say Hello to you and hopefully some time soon I might be posting again🤞