#anyway yeah. :P

[skrunksthatwunk]

a brief list of traits of mine that apparently ppl who know me very well do not have the privilege of seeing:

the conversational burger tulpa

just showing up or leaving or starting conversations without any greeting

not knowing i was supposed to reciprocate small talk/general questions until i was NINETEEN and even now barely remember to. ("how are you?" "good!" "........." "................." (<- i have hit many doctors, dentists, etc with this one))

slow blinking + extremely slight nod as hello to complete strangers who may not even be looking my way (not sure i was ever convinced they could tell, but it was a necessary ritual at that point. it's for ME)

can't look at people a lot of the time? not just eye contact like anything but shoes backs and shoulders

just ending a conversation (even one i am enjoying) and leaving without saying bye + speeding to class as fast as possible bc It Is Time For Class and when it is time for class I Walk To Class It Is Time To Walk To Class (such that this + similar thoughts about setting up my pens and notebooks as fast as possible (Class Mode) genuinely impede my social life)

wishing i was blind/deaf when i was a kid for no apparent reason other than that it seemed vaguely easier somehow (note: i didn't actually think it was somehow easier, i was overstimulated and could barely recognize the full body discomfort i was experiencing as such. same reason i found school easier when i broke my glasses, because the level of visual input was lower)

getting told my voice is deadpan and feeling BETRAYED bc i'd been putting a lot of effort into my line delivery my whole life (combines with excessive hyperbole -> very weird misunderstandings + social blunders i do not fully understand to this day)

similar note: mind SHATTERED by finding out what my side profile looked like at 13 or so. physically incapable of not staring at myself in every reflective surface i encounter (as if something will dramatically change without my noticing)

only feeling truly understood and kept-up with as a child on the day one of my friends happened to forget their adhd meds. this happened Multiple times with different people

[swampybogg]

[dootznbootz]

You know, most "fans" of Penelope usually aren't fans of Odysseus in solidarity with her. Have fun with your toxic unfaithful ship I guess. ✌

ANON!!! NO!!! ANON! YOU'RE TRYING TO GIRLBOSS HER AND NOT WANTING TO UNDERSTAND WHO AND WHAT PENELOPE WANTS! ANON! ANON! PENELOPE WANTS ODYSSEUS BACK IN HER ARMS!!! SHE MISSES AND LOVES HIM!!! ANON! YOU'RE ACTING LIKE ODYSSEUS HAD ANY CHOICE WITH THE GODDESSES!!! AS THOUGH HE DID NOT WEEP WHILE WITH THE GODDESSES! AS THOUGH HE DID NOT THINK OF PENELOPE EVERY DAY!!! ANON!!! EVEN THEN, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER HE EVEN HAD A CHOICE IN THE FIRST PLACE, PENELOPE CAN MAKE HER OWN CHOICES!!! AND HER CHOICE IS ODYSSEUS!!! ALWAYS WILL BE!!! JUST AS SHE IS HIS CHOICE ALWAYS!!! ANON! NO! THEY ARE LIKEMINDED AND BASICALLY SOULMATES!!! GET YOUR HEAD OUTTA YOUR ASS! ANON!!!

[benevolenterrancy]

Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

Edit: Part Two

________

For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

________________

This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[caemidraws]

Things we promised

[serpentface]

I'm doing Whitecalf OC tarot images now it's happening.

Here's the devil, reimagined as a nude existential crisis.

[undefeatablesin]

YOU MUST ANSWER ⏳️

[1-marigold-1]

Snowdrops

@treebarkweek day 1: flower/frost

Snowdrops are one of the first signs of spring and the end of winter :>

[pizzaqueen]

A snippet from a future fic I'll probably never write, where Steve is a widower with two teenage kids, and he and Eddie randomly meet up, rekindling their old flame. This is when they've been together a while:

“Thank you,” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie at the bathroom sink.

Eddie pauses, catching Steve's eye in the mirror. “What for?” he asks, mouth foamy with toothpaste.

Steve slips his hands along Eddie's hips, hooks his chin over Eddie's shoulder. “For loving my kids.”

“You don't—” Toothpaste dribbles down Eddie's chin and he stoops to spit what's left in his mouth into the sink, gathering his hair to one side. He rinses his mouth out, wipes his face with a towel, then turns to Steve. “You don't have to thank me for that. Of course I love them.”

“Not everyone I've dated has.”

“They're idiots.” Eddie grabs the hem of Steve's shirt, pulling him close. “I mean, first of all, they're part of you, and I don't think I could love you and not love them. But...” He trails off, a small smile tilting his lips. “They're amazing kids.”

Pride swells in Steve's chest; he slides his arms around Eddie's waist and says, “They are.”

“And I'm pretty damn honored I get to be part of their lives,” Eddie says, “so thank you,” and he butts his head gently against Steve's.

Steve huffs and slides his hands up Eddie's back, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I love you.” He presses a kiss to Eddie's neck.

“I love you too.”

“And they both love you as well.”

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath. Steve knows how nervous Eddie was, when they started dating, that he wouldn't be welcomed, but it's almost like he's always been part of their family now. “Good to know,"”Eddie says.

Steve holds Eddie a little tighter. All those years ago, back in Hawkins, when they ended things, Steve thought he'd never see Eddie again. But here they are, together—a family—and Steve's never letting him go this time.

[halebobgr]

Rise of P

[cheriboms]

[spite] has entered the chat >:P

[skrunksthatwunk]

thought too hard about the trio of first game sexy-antagonist-rivals-redeemed-by-betraying-and-defeating-the-true-unsexy-villain-but-at-what-cost. guys. and how they're treated by the fandom. and also by me

alt versions

[teeayohess]

{ 18 simlish horror-themed recolors of misstiikeri+eir's m2f crooked tee } what a mouthful lmao

i wasn't too sure about how these had turned out at first, but after seeing them in game they actually grew on me, so here they are. thank you @gvaudoiin-tricou for encouraging me to finish them and share! i hope you like them :-)

since this is essentially a mash-up of several people's work (see credits), frankenstein-ed together, it feels pretty appropriate for the theme.... 🧟‍♂️🔪🦇🩸👽 consider this a tiny late simblreen treat, hehe 🎃

these separate tops are for AF only*, since that's what i needed in my game (but the TF/EF meshes should be easy to copy-paste onto) [edit: *added links to an AM version as well]

they are categorized as everyday, sleepwear and athletic (not sure who would want to sleep or exercise in fishnets but hey i'm not judging. also it's really easy to remove them if you like, since they're a separate texture from the shirt)

compressorized, tooltipped, and the files are labeled clearly. the swatch and previews are included in the rar file.

full disclosure, this mesh has a few issues i don't currently have the skills to fix: it has no fat morph (😑), and there is some clipping in places depending on how the sim moves, and a few dark spots (not super noticeable with the black texture, thankfully). if anyone feels inspired to fix the mesh or add morphs, i'll happily update this post and the linked file.

>>> get them here: { SFS } { MF } [edit: AM version here: { SFS } { MF } ]

credits, swatch & unedited pic under the cut.

swatch: (labeled according to the file names for easy id; i suck at reading simlish so 'flash' was all i could understand from that one, apologies if it's incorrect lol)

unedited preview: (taken in-game, with neutral lighting)

credits: the77sims & misstiikeri (original male mesh & 3t2 conversion) eir (m2f conversion) trillyke (fishnets), monilisasims (4t2 conversion) littlecakes (graphics), kalux (4t2 conversion) surprisepeach (graphics)

[mothmothwoth]

Infect me, infect me, you’re trying to infect me.

[echosong971]

“Mr. Handsome Idiot”