#simmons blue shift

[gordon-freeman-phd]

shout out to the people who requested my ocs <3

indiv reqs for this below the cut

have to say, galvanizer would NOT survive a hurricane, as a rollermine, water is the death of it canonically, so sadly </3 it would die

also decided to make the other scientist simmons, nobody talks about simmons enough :( i need to become the number one simmons fan

[bellfilmz]

𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Season1!rafe x shy!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which rafe and reader are partnered for a school project and reader is convinced it's a sick joke.

Or

In which rafe Cameron has a crush on his smart shy partner and sees this as a chance to pursue her.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

⸻

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron liked you?

No. That didn’t make sense.

Guys like Rafe didn’t go for girls like you.

You spent most of the night overthinking it, replaying his words in your head. By morning, you convinced yourself it had to be some kind of joke—maybe not a cruel one, but a joke nonetheless.

So, when you walked into school the next day, you made a decision.

You were going to avoid Rafe Cameron.

⸻

That plan failed immediately.

You’d barely made it to your locker when a shadow fell over you.

“Morning, smart girl.”

You stiffened.

Slowly, you turned, only to find Rafe standing there, just as confident as ever. His tie was, as usual, loose around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up like he hadn’t even tried to follow dress code.

His gaze flickered over your face, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “No good morning?”

You cleared your throat, focusing on your locker. “Morning.”

He smirked, leaning against the locker next to yours. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you look like you saw a ghost.”

You bit your lip, gripping your books tighter. You weren’t ready to have this conversation—not here, in front of everyone.

“I just—” You swallowed. “I have class.”

He raised a brow. “We have class together, remember?”

Right. Of course. Because fate clearly hated you.

You inhaled sharply before nodding. “Right. Let’s go.”

Rafe chuckled, falling into step beside you. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to look at him. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

⸻

The day dragged on, and avoiding Rafe proved to be impossible.

Every time you turned around, he was there—sitting next to you in class, waiting by your locker, walking with you to the library like nothing had changed.

And, worst of all?

He was still being nice.

Still listening when you talked, still helping you with your books, still flashing that stupid smirk like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

So, at the end of the day, when he once again waited for you outside class, you snapped.

“Why are you doing this?” you blurted.

Rafe frowned. “Doing what?”

You exhaled sharply. “This. Acting like we’re—like we’re something.”

His jaw tightened. “I told you why.”

You hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “I just don’t get it, Rafe.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. “You really think I’d waste my time if I wasn’t serious?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t know.”

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

You crossed your arms. “You have to admit, it’s weird. You’ve never talked to me before, and now, all of a sudden, you like me?”

“I’ve always liked you,” he muttered.

Your breath caught. “What?”

Rafe exhaled, glancing away. “I just—never said anything.”

You stared at him. He wasn’t smirking anymore. He wasn’t teasing.

He meant it.

Before you could say anything, someone else called your name.

You turned, finding one of your classmates—Jake Simmons—walking toward you.

“Hey,” Jake said, smiling. “I was wondering if you could help me study for the chem test? You’re, like, the smartest person in class.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“Oh—um—sure?”

Jake grinned. “Great! Maybe we can meet at the library tomorrow?”

Rafe made a noise next to you—something between a scoff and a laugh.

Jake glanced at him, then back at you. “Unless you’re busy?”

You hesitated.

Rafe was your project partner. But… maybe a little space wouldn’t hurt.

“No, I’m not busy,” you said finally.

Jake smiled. “Cool. See you then.”

As he walked away, you turned back to Rafe—only to find his jaw clenched, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head, stepping closer. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Your brows furrowed. “Rafe—”

He leaned in slightly, voice low. “You can study with whoever you want,” he murmured, “but if you think I’m gonna just sit back and watch some guy try to take my place, you’re wrong.”

Your breath caught. “I—”

Rafe smirked, though this time, it was sharper. More dangerous.

“See you tomorrow, smart girl.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving your heart pounding in your chest.

⸻

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

⸻

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @angelicameron @rafecqmeronslove @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @jujubeaz @heartzfromluna @redlipstickgirlx

⸻

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 💕

[cityof2morrow]

OFB Props: Signs 001 Mix

Published: 7-14-2024 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY 100 posters, tags, and area signs to organize sale items on your commercial lots. Customize poster images, infographics, and barcodes/currency labels. Labels are color-coded in Simlish and English to make sorting objects easier: COOK (white label/for cookables, ingredients), DRINK (red label/ for edible beverages), EAT (pink label/for edible foods), GROW (green label/ for harvestables), HEAL (orange label/for functional medicines, motive boosters), CRAFT (brown label/for craftables, ingredients), STOCK (yellow label/for stockable foods, supplies), USE (blue label/for all other functional items), VIEW (gray label/for deco only items), and “other” (black and purple/barcode). These are general deco items, so you don’t have to sort by function/color unless you want to.

DETAILS Pets EP or higher. Cost: $3 | Environment: +1 | Buy > Deco > Wall Hangings/Sculptures (some signs don’t have to be placed on walls) You need my Poster Pack (Simmons, 2024) for all poster recolors. Sale Poster 7 (barcodes/currencies), and Ceiling Sign Info 4 (infographics) – are also REQUIRED. Recommended textures sizes for new recolors are 512x512 (poster graphics) and 512x128 (bar codes/currencies, infographics). Simlish text is ideal since images may be reversed on the back side of some objects, or slightly stretched. *Thumbnails for the BACK side of the posters may not generate accurately in the catalog (default game quirk). Make sure you can see the back side onscreen when recoloring. Finally, you’ll likely need “moveobjects on/off” and “snaptogrid on/off” cheats when placing some items.

ITEMS 11 ceiling signs (160-440 poly, poster images on signs 1-6 appear on back side). 11 standing signs (188-440 poly) 3 curved standing signs (548 poly) 10 wall signs (220-224 poly) 5 curved wall signs (874-876 poly) 3 curved/winged signs (1072 poly) 7 hanging signs (269 poly) 6 Instore Mini Billboards (4t2 conversion by NekoSayuri, 2018; EA; 116 poly) 5 Lil’ Business Chalkboards (4t2 conversion by itsnotdissimilar, 2016; EA; 128 poly) 7 framed posters (64 poly) 5 unframed posters (12 poly) 4 taped, unframed posters (108 poly) 3 unframed, wrinkled posters (18 poly) 3 wrinkled tags (34 poly) 3 smooth tags (155 poly, poster images appear reversed on back side) 3 info/barcode tags (4-60 poly) 6 easel signs (512 poly) 6 sales card on stands (card mesh by Cathee, 2008; 40 poly).

DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA *collection file included

COMPATIBILITY I recommend using Shift Everything (Lamare, 2022) or Object Freedom 1.02 (Fway, 2023) to enable floor-to-ceiling shiftability for all objects. This will also minimize shadow issues when shifting the signs. Some signs show a small gap between the frame and poster when viewed at close range. CREDITS Thanks: Sim Crafters, ChocolateCitySim. Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), EA/Maxis, Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Fonts (Gazifu, 2013; Ajaysims), Sims 3 (EA, 2009; 2012), Sims 4 (EA, 2014; 2020), Sims Mobile (EA, 2018), Supermarket Aisle Signs (Rockethorse, 2014), Synapticsims, Vector_Corp.

[ntls-24722]

Idk if this has been asked before, but what does the Planet of Bolur look like?

Any continents? Or just one like Pangea?

What’s the solar system like? What kind of star? Any legends on the other planets? Does Bolur have any moons?

is the planet tidally locked and maybe all the creatures live in a thin habitable strip between extreme heat and extreme cold? (Though that would probably create great winds)

Sorry I just have gotten so invested in planets lately and have gotten super curious about the geology of this fictional planet now

You sent this in January and it's March now and that is because Bolur was literally just Earth, and I hadn't really thought about it. it was earth except blue and red instead of blue and green and everything literally just took place in Red Mozambique. but not anymore

voila. the continent lewes and serendipolis is on is named "Bagtri."

They orbit an A-class star, it's exceptionally hot here so the poles are thinner and there's a lot more desert. The seasons are actually really mild compared to Earth since Bolur's on a 10 degree axial tilt, but they make up for it with their moon, which is twice the size of Earth's moon and makes absolutely batshit insane tidal shifts that coastal Debu in particular are known to exploit for fishing, digging cavities and traps in the sides of cliffs to bring a fish-filled ocean into once the high tide comes.

Solar eclipses happen slightly more often because of this, and each species has their own legends on it - Zebraelves believe that solar eclipses are a repentance of the sun for bad crop years and bringing droughts, times when the sun got too cocky and therefore had to step down, only for it to quickly realise its prescence is vital and immediately come back. Zebramen amusingly believe it to be an automatic relief from every and any duties during the eclipse, and during solar eclipses everyone rushes to stop what they're doing and nap no matter how important their tasks were. In the more "modern" thousands of years later, this is still upheld and viewed as one of the most basic workers' rights laws. Debu see it as the eyes of gods blinking, where the period of darkness is a period of divine lawlesness where it is the moment that the gods aren't watching and you can do whatever you want, and Simmons see the eclipse as the sun finally getting to embrace her lover, the moon. Not sure about legends of other planets, though, I'll have to get back to you on that.

Here's their ranges!

Weirdly enough despite Debu having been around for around a million years, they have stuck to this general area for that entire time. Debu struggle with maritime travel due to their size and technology hasn't advanced far enough to carry more than a few Debu across seas, and hasn't advanced enough to also not be a miserable experience.

That big island is named Matro and is the origin of their species, and where they diversified from zebraelves, so their species radiates out from Matro. The arrows also indicate their most common looping route around Bagtri, though they aren't afraid to go out into the more dry parts of Bagtri.

Zebraelves live around the woodier, less arid parts of Bagtri and also skimp around the larger mountains, as they just aren't as inclined to mountains as Debu are.

Simmons are just chilling in Aben's forested mountains and a little bit into Penibi - that continent the Simmons reside in is split by that river much like how Eurasia is split between Europe and Asia.

Bonus: I know you asked for Bolur but in terms of "cool planet" i want to bring up Drohnen and my shitty mockup for it

Drohnen is an absolute deviantart Mary Sue of a planet, with a blood red ocean stained with the iron that was kicked up from beneath the crust by the dwarf planet that shaved off a third of the planet and almost annihilated all life, a bunch of big pretty saturn rings, and rainbow colored landmasses.

The saturn rings came from the global extinction event, and while it's mostly full of the usual planetary ring stuff - ice, rocks, dust - it's also full of fossils, mummified bodies and organic material. Steeldrake archeologists and paleontologists play a very large part on Drohnen NASA because while extremely small, there is a non-insignificant amount of life on the rings that came before the extinction, that could be remade/resurrected in order to repopulate Drohnen with its native life.

Speaking of which - So, i've made a bunch of big changes in my head that i haven't really talked about. There's only one sophont on drohnen, Steeldrakes, all of whom are shapeshifters rather than there being a shapeshifting species and an "immobile" nonshapeshifting species who made basically 100% of all the biomass that isn't themselves post-extinction event in order to save their planet. The fact they had to quite literally resuscitate their planet via making life for it is why the planet is rainbow-colored - this wasn't a series of unanimous decisions made by the Steeldrakes as a species, but rather various groups of very early, prehistoric steeldrakes. So, photosynthetic life that could make the foundations for new ecosystems and breathe oxygen back into their atmosphere took on just about every shape and color Steeldrakes could think of.

[quadrantadvisor]

A Better Time

Red vs. Blue, Grif/Simmons

Grif and Simmons have been married for years, ever since their ill-advised (and very unauthorized) trip to the Vegas Quadrant, shortly after being stationed at Blood Gulch. A lot has changed since then.

792 words

On AO3

-

Grif pokes his head up over the top of the ladder to the roof. It’s a good view, with an alien sun slanting in the sky and lighting up everything with warm tones, like Simmons’ russet hair. He sits, waiting, and when he notices Grif clambering up over the edge the corners of his mouth turn up. “Hey,” he greets.

Grif plops down next to him, exaggerating his puffing a little because one, everyone needs to know how ridiculous it is to expect him to climb ladders, and two, he’s way too fond of this kissass and it’s been a while since he made peace with the fact that he’d do anything to keep him smiling. It works; Simmons doesn’t even say anything, just nudges him with his elbow and grins. Grif rolls his eyes, nudges back, and scooches a little closer to him. “So, what are we doing up here?”

“Okay, so, I was thinking-"

“Nerd.”

“I was thinking,” he says again, “that doesn't it seem like we got married a little, well, early?” as the sentence goes on his voice gets higher, the words slower. He's nervous.

Red flags all over, that the conversation that Grif was called up here for will not be a pleasant one. He doesn't know where this is going but it feels like he needs to head it off before it gets there. Damage control. “It seems like it all turned out okay,” he tries, testing the waters.

“No, wait, whatever you're thinking, quit it right now.” Simmons leans against him, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. “Let me finish.” Grif waits. Simmons makes a noise of frustration. “This is hard.”

“Aw, c'mon, don't leave me in suspense,” Grif says, trying to make it sound like a joke.

“What I mean is,” Simmons says, “there's probably a better time to make a legally binding declaration of intent. Like, um” —he clears his throat— “like now. Not that,” he continues before Grif can say anything, “our wedding wasn't perfect and beautiful.”

Grif knows his lines here. He smirks. “I especially like the part where you threw up on my shoes.”

“I threw up on both of our shoes, Grif. It was symbolic.” There's another pause, but this one's comfortable. “So, um, what I actually wanted to do, was,” Simmons pulls away from Grif’s shoulder, shifts so he’s facing him. And kneeling. On one knee.

“Dexter Grif.” Simmons is making purposeful eye contact, and Grif can’t look away. “Would you like to, um, continue to be married to me, but, more romantically this time?” He breaks the look, fumbling, and grabs something from behind himself. Holds it out.

It’s a stack of papers.

“What’s this?” Grif asks, and his voice comes out hoarse.

“Oh! Um,” Simmons thumbs through the papers nervously, “it’s kind of dumb. I probably should’ve just asked you about this like a normal person, instead of, all this, so you wouldn’t feel pressured or anything.” His face is so red. “God dammit, I’m fucking this all up. It’s- they’re- it’s paperwork, for, um, changing your name. Both of our names, I mean. I thought we could,” he runs a hand through his hair, “hyphenate.”

Grif reaches out, and Simmons hands him the top half of the stack. Sure enough, it’s a bunch of legal-eze, but Simmons’ neat handwriting stands out where he was filling things in. It says, right there, Dexter Grif-Simmons.

“So yeah, if you wanted to, it’s all done. Well, not done done, there’s some back and forth, it’s a whole process.” Grif grabs the other pile that Simmons is still holding. Richard Grif-Simmons. “And we’d have to report it to a bunch of places, and get new IDs, I mean obviously I would do all that stuff so you don’t have to worry about it.” Grif can’t look away from the words on the pages. “So, um, what do you think?”

Grif kisses him.

Simmons leans into it for a second, and then pulls back. “Yeah?” he asks, breathless, giddy.

“Yeah,” Grif answers, and kisses him again.

After a while, Grif is the one to pull back. “You put my name first,” he says, smirking.

“Do not read into it. It just sounds better that way, objectively, because of the patterns of stress on the syllables-”

“That’s not anything! Those are fake words that you’re saying! You can’t just put words in whatever order you want and pretend that they mean something!”

“You legally assigned me the top in this relationship and you expect me not to read into it?"

“I don’t know, you put words in the order you wanted and I’d say that it’s packed with meaning.”

“Would you shut up and kiss me some more?”

He does.

[labrxnth]

Prison Break- Part 2 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1858

Summary: You and your field partner Leon continue your search for Doctor Antonio Taylor on Alcatraz

A/N: Sorry This was late, I had a busy schedule and major writer’s block

The first thing you noticed about the harbor is that it smelled like salt. Saltiness and almost a tackiness filled the air as you looked out of the rolled down window. Your hand traced circles on the car seat absentmindedly as you watched the boats and people the car was speeding past.

“What’re you thinking?” Leon asked, his hand drifting dangerously close to yours. When he got to an inch away, he stopped, his hand giving a deadly space between the two. If you were paying full attention, it would’ve made you upset, but for some reason this mission really wasn’t sitting right with you.

Call it survivor’s gut or intuition, but this mission was sitting funky in your stomach.

You took a deep breath and turned your head to face your partner. “I don’t like this… Maria being involved with Taylor means that someone like Arias wants a robotics engineer,” You answered and shifted a bit in your seat.

“I don’t like it either,” Leon replied. The two of you were always good at having each other’s back and making the other one feel validated. That was your whole friendship, being the person that each other needed.

You were the person Leon needed after, well, everything he had gone through. Raccoon City, Project Javier, Los Illuminados and Simmons were hard for him to shoulder alone. His life felt like a dark and foggy hallway, a trail of blood and cynicism following him. But in the midst of everything, you were a light. You were with him through everything for the past few years, carrying a candle filled with your aura that scared off the darkness and the fog in his hallway.

You were the one person who hadn’t run away or died, and he’d like to keep it that way.

He was the one person he hadn’t run away or died, and you would like to keep it that way.

Leon S. Kennedy was an enigma to you when you first started working for the D.S.O. under recommendation from Hunnigan. Through the past few years of working together, the two of you started out as drinking buddies then quickly became actual friends. It was over for you when you looked into his eyes and saw who he truly was for the first time. The mission in New York, the summit, the look on Leon’s face were all seared into your mind. His blue eyes tossing your heart just like a human thrown overboard into a vast ocean.

But you were convinced the look he gave you that night was just for your façade; the role the two of you played. If you never spoke life into your feelings, he never had to reject you.

“You’re doing it again,” Leon’s voice cut through your memories; bringing you back to the streets of San Francisco and dragging you away from the dinner party in New York.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the setting Sun in your eyes.

“Getting lost in that big head of yours,” He replied and chuckled lightly. “You do that more lately…. Ever since that mission in NYC.” His eyes looked at you, almost as if searching for an answer for an unasked question.

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” You said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Thinking about…..?” Leon asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Life stuff… like if fighting half dead people and gross science experiments is gonna be the rest of my life,” you said, making an excuse. You didn’t like to lie to Leon, but this one thing you made an exception for. And it was true, sometimes you did think about how your life has taken a turn after college.

Leon hummed in response, looking out his own window. The autumnal setting sun reflected in his eyes and hair, making his irises shine like diamonds and his hair shining a dirty blonde in the rays. When the sun hit him, it was a reminder of who he was, the dirty blonde hair and full blue eyes that he had that night in Raccoon City. He thought that Rookie Cop died that day, but maybe all he needed was a constant sun in his life; someone who brought his hope back.

“Don’t start thinking about that stuff, it’ll drag you down,” he warned. “Trust me.” His voice had an edge to it that you had only heard a few times before. The edge that reflected a tinge of sadness, but resilience.

The car stopped at the dock, you and Leon getting out of the Uber and taking in your surroundings. To the public, the only way to get to Alcatraz was a ferry tour, but luckily the two of you could call in a few favors and pull a few strings.

“Follow me, the boat should be at the Marina.” Leon said. He walked in front of you, making his way towards the docks. With no other option, you walked with him, trying not to look at how his blue shirt hugged his biceps a little too well.

The two of you quickly made your way towards a boat with a big branded D.S.O. logo on it.

“Couldn’t have been more covert?” You asked flatly.

“Gotta warn them before we blow their shit up,” Leon said, half joking. He got in the boat, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder and putting it on a seat. You climbed on after him and looked around the small speed boat.

“You sure this thing has ballistics?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s American, it can blow something up as long as you try hard enough,” He replied with his shit-eating grin. You chuckled in reply and got into the seat next to him, giving him the chance to drive for once. Leon noticed you not fighting for the wheel and he took the opportunity to start the boat and pull out of the Marina.

“So, (Y/n),” He said, putting the boat in drive and starting to steer to Alcatraz. “I’ve been thinking…” He added.

“That’s never a good thing,” You said snarkily and chuckled a bit.

“Very funny,” Leon said and rolled his eyes.

“But for real, what’s up?” You asked and looked at him. He was really focusing on what to say with how much his eyebrows were knitted and the lines next to his eyes were visible.

“It’s bad timing… we can talk about it later,” he said and looked at you, smiling.

You shrugged, thinking nothing of it. The sun setting over the bay was beautiful, it being the only thing that could peel your attention away from Leon. Your eyes tracked the sun, squinting slightly at how bright it was, but smiling at how the waves reflected the red and orange haze it was.

You went to say something to Leon and saw the same look in his face that you’d only seen once before. Amidst fancy clothes, cocktails, and fake friendships, was Leon’s face having the same look as he did now.

It was gone when he realized your eyes had met his. In a blink of an eye, he was back to his normal, scanning the area with a neutral facial expression.

Leon parked the boat at the back of the island and the two of you put on your combat gear: vests, harnesses, etc. once you two were ready to go, you were getting out of the boat and heading towards a tunnel opening.

“Munitions tunnel, should get us in,” You said and nodded towards it. Leon nodded in response and followed you into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened up to sewers, you two finally being able to fully stand up.

You turned to Leon to say something when you heard a loud BANG! The two of you locked eyes and your handguns were both drawn, aimed towards the other end of the sewers where the explosion came from.

After walking forwards a bit, the sewer split two ways, one to your left and one ahead. The sewers were set up on a block system, like a city.

“I’ll go forward, you go left,” Leon said and turned his ear com on. You nodded, copying his movements and doing the same.

The two of you gave each other a nod and separated hesitantly. Whenever the two of you separated, things never went well. Understandably, it was a necessity, but it still never went well.

You turned your flashlight on and walked to the left, then down the hallway. The light illuminated the tunnel and the sinking feeling you had gotten earlier hadn’t gone away. With Leon gone, it got more prominent.

Your boots hit the cobblestone, echoing with each footstep. Looking around, you were finding absolutely nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, the flash light reflected off of something metallic. You turned towards where the shimmer had come from and found an indented doorknob.

Silently, your hand opened the door and you slipped through it, closing it just as quietly as you opened it. Overhead lights turned on and revealed you to be in a hallway. Holding your gun up, supported by your flash light, you kept on forward.

The door at the other end of the hallway was open, revealing a more open hallway. As you walked, a small electronic buzz hit your ears as you saw one of the security cameras move.

“(Y/n), (L/n) how interesting,” A voice over the PA system said. You swiveled around, your gun up, staying silent.

A sharp pain hit the back of your neck and your hand shot to where the pain was coming from, feeling nothing unusual. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the world went dark and your knees buckled, sending your body falling towards the floor.

“At least you’ll bring me Leon Kennedy.” The voice added.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon marched on forward, trying to keep his head in the mission. Usually, he was good at compartmentalizing and having a one track mind for the mission. That was, until you became his partner; even now, he was worried about how you were faring.

He knew you could handle yourself, but still he worried about you. He didn’t want you getting hurt, or worse, like everyone else in his life.

Leon heard the sound of boots hitting the cobblestone path in front of him and held his gun up, ready to shoot. He rounded the corner and the barrel of his gun got grabbed, sending him into a sprawl. Him and the other person he was fighting with were both trying not to wind up in the sewer water, dangerously close to their feet.

After a few seconds of exchanges, Leon recognized the familiar brown color of hair he was fighting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he took in the bigger picture, seeing an all too familiar face. The two of them backed off of each other and took the other in.

“Well, if it isn’t Jill Valentine.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my A03!

[spacedoutman]

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩?

(𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3)

Chapter description: Gene remembered getting butterflies in his stomach for Ace even when they were best friends as children. Ace, now the pastor, still suffers from anger issues and now an alcohol problem he's trying to keep secret, just like his violent passion for Gene. When a strange figure makes its way into Gene's life, Gene starts to think Ace feels nothing for him. Can Ace say something before Gene leaves? Or will he burn down the whole town with them and possibly himself?

♥ Ace Frehley x Gene Simmons | ♥ Vinnie Vincent x Gene Simmons

Warnings:

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair now!” Vinnie chirped, pouring enthusiasm. “I’ll see you around-”

Gene shifted. “Uh, wait.” Gene mumbled. Light blasted in Vinnie’s eyes. He perked up quickly.

“What is it?” He cocked his brow. “I don’t uh.. have a schedule—really, so I have a lot of time.”

“Does he get along with other horses?”

Vinnie replied with a dramatic shrug. He pursed his lips. His eyes trailed off to the sky before he gasped sharply. He gazed back at Gene. “He’ll be ok. He just pretends to not understand. He does, trust me.” Vinnie chortled. Gene held his breath. Sweat soaked the back of his neck. Vinnie leaned over, kissing the horse’s muzzle. “Isn’t that right?” He made a baby voice. The horse stared ahead.

Anything Gene could’ve said drained like a pool. He slowly nodded. Vinnie giggled happily. His hand jutted out. His grip loosened around the reins. Gene wrapped his shaking hands around them. Vinnie dropped them. He balled up Gene’s fingers and skipped back.

“Well, I’ll see you around!” He bubbled, fixing his hat. “Have a good time, Gene! And make sure Perry knows how much I’ll miss him.”

Gene nodded.

Vinnie whipped around on his heel before skipping off. Gene leaned over, watching as Vinnie pranced down the road. The morning light . ‘Is he going to disappear yet?’ Gene thought to himself. Gene’s jaw dropped when Vinnie actually walked out of sight. His throat tightened.

Gene stood back to calm his racing heart. He clutched his chest.

Gene remembered Biscuit, his own horse. Biscuit played hop-scotch when Gene tried to saddle him or wedge himself all the way against the aged stable wall, making it creak as Gene slumped over with the hoof-pick. Yet, Perry stood, glaring straight on. Gene’s heart sank. Fifteen minutes sharp. Gene lead Perry out the door.

The birds fluttered through the vibrant blue sky; a couple clouds floated. Perry’s hooves clattered against the road like drumbeats. Gene’s eyes locked between Perry’s ears, stuck wide since he’d left. Before he could count to ten, Perry drifted down the street—at least Gene did. He glanced down, patting Perry’s shoulder when he realized he was still there.

The middle of May crept up on Gene and by now, the horse did too. Taking care of him was almost like a pet rock. It stared. Grayish purple dyed the mountains black. Gene leaned up. He sighed. His mouth dried. Gravel crunched, ringing around Gene’s skull. He clicked his mouth. Perry trotted down the path.

“Great job, Perry.” He mumbled. “… You’re.. you’re doing wonderfully.” A slight shake riddled his voice.

The snow-white house went from a stain to a palace in what felt like hours. Gene slid off Perry and tied him up. He stuck his hands in his coat. “I hope you can stay warm out here.” He murmured. Perry’s black eyes hit his. Gene’s gaze retreated. A knot formed in his throat. “I’ll be back.”

Gene turned and walked. His feet heavied. He glanced over his shoulder. Perry stared. A couple horses in the pasture behind him down the hill joined in. Gene held his breath. He sped up. His shoes clicked quietly on the cobblestone path. He climbed the polished oak stairs, his heart fluttering. A grin tugged at his lips. He skipped over and knocked.

Warm light crawled from the crack as the door eased open, only enough to stick a hand through. Gene stepped back. Ace swung it open. Lemony, savory smells whistled through Gene’s nose, spinning his brain like a lover as they waltzed. He melted. Ace smiled. He wore a dusty blue shirt. The pearl buttons glistened in the dim moonlight.

He looked Gene up and down. Gene leaned closer.

“Good seeing you.” Ace said, frowning a little. “I was actually thinking about you for awhile today, wondering when you’d drop by.” He complained?

Gene twirled his hair around his finger. Ace’s dull eyes locked on Gene’s. Gene froze, melting slowly into his shoes. Ace half-smiled.

“Yeah..” Gene’s eyes followed his lips. “Something crazy happened.”

Ace brightened up. “Oh really?!” He exclaimed. “Why don’t you tell me about it?’

Later

“And then he gave me the reins.. l-looked at me.. and told me he’d get out of my hair.” Gene counted harshly one his fingers, furrowing his brows.

A woman, running through a garden, rosy-cheeked and smiling over her shoulder met his eyes from a painting. The flowers around her matched her flowing pink dress. A man in dusty red peeked from behind a white gazebo.

Warmth enveloped Gene as Ace laid a hand on his shoulder. Gene couldn’t help but to grin. He slowly looked up. Ace smiled, patting him. “What a story.” Ace tiredly mumbled under his breath.

“I think so.” Gene said softly.

Ace sighed. He sat back, setting his hand on his chest. The velvet couch hugged them like an old friend. Ace tossed one leg over the other. He sighed a little sharply, staring at the Turkish-patterned carpet. “I’d been waiting for you all week.”

Gene’s mouth opened. His heart froze. He looked down, his eyes scanning nothing. “.. You told me you’d be busy.” He hesitated. “You never, you know, got back to me about when you’d be free.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Well, I’m pretty lonely, Gene. My job has never been easy. But you make it a little easier.”

Photo cred:

Note: I completely lost track of where I wanted this fic to go for a hot second but then I remembered lol also I forget a whole day went past and I forgot to update this one along with the two yesterday.

ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔬3

[slyvester101]

Cough Power rangers au where the reds and blues are rangers and the freelancers work for the big evil bad guy, The Director (who also doubles as the rich snob who’s messing with their favorite hang out spot).

The freelancers were originally humans, but the Director turned them bad via hawkmoth shenanigans and now they’re his generals of evil. This means that in addition to the classic power ranger villain forms, they all also have a civilian human form they can shift into and basically act like asshole versions of themselves while under the Director’s control.

This is worrying to Tucker specifically because he and Wash were friends in pining before the Director got a hold of him and now Wash is being a huge jerk. It’s actually part of the reason Tucker accepted being a ranger; their guide (maybe Epsilon who ended up taking on Church’s form since he thought it’d make everyone more comfortable) explained how The Director nabbed a bunch of people and made them evil and while he doesn’t list any names, Tucker knows that Wash is one of the victims.

So now, Tucker is tasked with saving the world from total destruction while also trying to save his best friend/crush who is actively trying to kill him all while missing him horribly and aching for the day where he can actually go and hang out with Wash again.

(Caboose, Church, Simmons, Grif, and Donut are his ranger buddies but I’ll make another post about them)

(Sarge and Lopez are those side characters ranger shows often have, think Bulk and Skull but with more explosions)

COUGH

[zeethequeer]

ABOUT MY POPPY PLAYTIME DR v2 (Everyone survives DR)

✨BASICS✨

Name: Amy Lovitz (Previously Amy Simmons)

Age: 17

Height: 5'0"

Hair Color: Red

Eye Color: Blue

Skin Color: Light

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Pronouns: She/Her

✨FAMILY✨

Mom: ???

Dad: Rich Lovitz

Siblings: None

Aunt: ???

Uncle: ???

Cousins: ???

Closest Friends: All Bigger Body toys (eventually), majority of living small toys (eventually)

S/O(s): None

✨EXTRAS✨

Favorite Color: Pink

Favorite Food: Watermelon

Favorite Show: Smiling Critters TV show

Favorite Drink: Grape juice

Hobbies: singing, urban exploration, gardening, hiking, outdoor sports

Time Of First Shift: Beginning of the game

Song That Reminds Me Of DR: Everything Stays from Adventure Time

✨MY LIFE STORY✨

I was one of the Playcare orphans, adopted at around 5 years old by an employee, Rich, who anyone who's watched videos or played the game will recognize as one of the employees we hear/"see" time and time again in the video tapes. I practically lived my whole early childhood in Playcare and the Game Station, including the following year and a half after my adoption and before The Hour of Joy.

I was incredibly lucky to have been sick and kept at home by my dad, and not at Playtime Co on the day that The Hour of Joy happened.

10 years later, a letter comes in about the disappearance of the employees with a claim that there's still people there. Having managed to get ahold of it before my dad, I go to the old Playtime Co factory. Not wanting him to follow and get himself into danger as well, I leave really early without even leaving a note about where I'm going. My dad was used to me leaving early in the morning to hang out with friends on weekends, and after Playtime Co he became a tow-truck driver with long shifts. He wouldn't notice something was wrong until I wouldn't have returned home that evening like usual and had confirmed I wasn't staying over at a friend's house.

Things play out in a similar order to the game, but the toys are all able to identify that I'm still technically a kid. By the events of chapter 4 I have everyone from the previous areas following me around... With the exception of Miss Delight. I don't think there's any way around her losing her mind so I haven't scripted otherwise.

By the end of the events of Chapter 4 our group consists of every Bigger Body toy, including the ones that in the game had died already. I've scripted that every Bigger Body toy that was created survived long enough to still be around by the time I get to the factory with the letter. Any that had "issues" found those issues to correct themselves later if they were anything that was a detriment to them physically (such as the spasms that Bobby BearHug was noted to have had).

So our interesting, ragtag group ultimately consists of Boxy Boo, Pianosaurus, Yarnaby, Huggy, Kissy, Bobby BearHug, CatNap, Bron, Mommy Long-Legs, Doey, Bunzo, PJ, Poppy, about a dozen Mini Huggies, DogDay, Hoppy, the rest of the Bigger Body Smiling Critters, about a dozen Mini Critters, Scout, Medic, Odd Ed, and this reality's versions of my other Poppy Playtime DR self and fellow Big Dreams Dolls (both the Bigger Body versions and minis). Eventually this includes every single kid still alive that was trapped in the factory as well.

After finally escaping the factory with Doctor Sawyer and The Prototype both dead, I tell everyone to wait in the lobby as I run outside to a payphone to call my dad. The news of where I was and what I did ends up being... A lot, to put it lightly.

With the recovery of the kids that were trapped, I accidentally make it on national news. We all work together to keep the existence of the toys quiet (the ones that hadn't been publicly known about prior at least), but a lot of funding rolls in to help get everyone (many of the kids now not really being kids but being between 18 and 27 depending on how old they were during the HoJ) settled. We end up sticking together, using the pooled funds to purchase several undeveloped properties outside of the city where we can all live and build housing large enough to allow for the toys to come and go in and outside as they please.

Many of the now adult orphans were able to find jobs, a lot of them starting work at daycares and schools as assistants. A lot of them went back to school and got their GEDs before going to college and becoming lawyers, doctors, etc. Some of them even became scientists to try to find ways to help improve the quality of life the toys experienced. Essentially acting as their doctors.

Having access to the outdoors and all needs met, the scarier looking of the toys begin to look less scary over time. Such as CatNap, he eventually doesn't look so skeletal anymore and more like the oversized cat he is. DogDay gets new legs, Kissy is fixed up from all the damage the Prototype caused, etc.

Everyone gets their happy ending.

✨SCRIPTED MOMENTS✨

I have to tell Huggy "We don't eat people!" when introducing my dad to the toys. 😅

Seeing the sunshine again after everything is over.

Similar to my other DR, who the "player character" is, in this case my dad/Rich, is likely not who they actually are in the game. I'll probably need a day to process if they actually turn out to be Rich in the game. Like I wouldn't expect my DR scripting to turn out to be CR game canon.

[runelythedragon30]

Red vs Blue: Hybrid Horrors

By: Runelythedragon30

Part 1: Episode 1

Episode 1

The Reds and Blues had just returned to their secluded island home after the events of the Blues and Reds bullshit. Some of the guys showing concern for how Washington might be doing. Mira had just gotten back herself with her mother heading out on another mission to find her husband. "Mira!!!!" Grif tackles the half alien woman knocking her to the floor, "Oof! Wow that was a lot of movement even for you Dexter." "Shut up I fucking missed you." Simmons and the rest of the crew laughed as they all had a long and worry filled day. "Wait Wash got SHOT!?" Mira shrieked, "yeah and it didn't look good for him. Carol is back on Chorus seeing if he's doing well. We're hoping to hear from them soon" Tucker said sounding rather defeated. "At least you all got out of there alive! What the hell were all of you thinking!?" "Hey don't blame us for the bullshit we get thrust into!" Donut chimes in, "WHY ARE WE ALL YELLING!?!" Mira looks at Caboose and sighs. "I was gone for at most two weeks. But that's a story for another day." "Is... Is that a stab wound?" Simmons points out the weird marks in her armor. "Uh yeah like I said story for another day." Grif and Simmons huff as they have this rising sense of dread. "If anything we showed those dirtbag WHOSE BOSS!!" "No you backstabbed us then came crying when you realized how fucked all of that shit was" Mira rolls her eyes as she heads out to relax and get some air, it was nice to be back with the guys, she missed her idiots. But she has always wondered if there are others out there like her. Her mandibles shift slightly as if being a reminder of how she isn't normal. She looks down at her alien legs and how the cloven shaped feet slightly grip the flooring. She was lucky, to find people who cared yes, but to be alive too. As she's lost in thought she doesn't realize that Kai snuck up behind her, "hey want some company?" She flinches a bit, "oh shit uh sure. How are you Kai?" "Meh I'm just happy to see my brother is ok...." The two sit in silence for a moment, "sooo are you and Dexter fucking orrrr-" "ooooKay you made this weird." "Oh CMON!! I need to know if my brother scored or not so I can make a move if he failed to." Mira laughs, "Kai I am very happy in the relationship I have with Dexter and Richard." Kai huffs, "well at least I tried." The two laugh a bit, "but to be serious when am I getting a niece or nephew?" "Probably not anytime soon Kai." ". . . Why not?" "I'm not sure I'd be a good mom. And I doubt your brother or Simmons would have the motivation or balls to try." "Fair point Dexter is a lazy fat fuck." Mira had landed in Blood Gulch in the same pelican Kai arrived in. So the two were at least familiar with each other. She recalls how Kai had complimented how odd but badass Mira looked, granted back then Mira was not only higher than a damn alien space ship, but she also didn't trust people at all. But the oddball of a color blind chick had grown on Mira, it was probably the mix of her brutal honesty and free spirited attitude that made her so easy to trust. You can't exactly judge someone when you've fucked over a dozen people. "I don't know about you but *yawn* I'm gonna go hit the hay." Mira says as she stretches a bit, "alright girl! Have a good night!" "Good night Kai."

The writing gets better past this I promise. Tumblr won't let me post episodes 1 AND 2 together.

[cityof2morrow]

OFB Props: Billboards 002

Published: 2-26-2024 | Updated: 6-21-2024 (no more blue flashing) SUMMARY “OFBProps is a series of posters, tags, area signs, and much more – all designed to help you better organize your commercial lots. The series is especially for those who play integrated economy themed saves with multiple farming and/or crafting mods. Sale! Sale! Sale!” Billboards 002 includes ten long horizontal billboards. The glass and metal are recolorable (1 recolor included) and all items are double-sided, hood visible, and low poly.

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §100 | Buy > Lighting > Wall Lighting Images are reposited to Long Billboard 001 (1024x256 image) and frames are linked to Horizontal Billboard 001  from the Billboard 001 set (Simmons, 2023) – these are REQUIRED for textures to display in-game. The largest billboards only shift downward. Recolors should be available on this site under the #ts2recolors and #co2recolors tags. ITEMS Long Horizontal Billboards 001-010 (92 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one) BILLBOARDS 002 from SFS | from MEGA *included in the same collection file includes with Billboards 001

CREDITS Thanks: TS2 folks all around. Repository Wizard (WHoward aka @picknmixsims, 20024). Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), EA/Maxis, Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), SimCity (iphone) (EA/Maxis, 2008), SimCity BuildIt (EA/Maxis, ), The Urbz (Xbox) (EA/Maxis, Griptonite Games, Glu Mobile, 2004).

[ladyeckland28]

The Depths Below

By Glenn Riley

Mike zipped up his wetsuit, his hands trembling slightly as he prepared for the dive. The small research vessel rocked gently on the waves, the overcast sky casting an ominous pall over the ocean.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Dr. Simmons said, concern etched on her weathered face. "We can send down the ROV instead."

Mike shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, I need to do this. I need to face it."

For years, Mike had been haunted by the stories – tales of a massive creature lurking in these waters. As a marine biologist, he'd dismissed them as legends, exaggerations. But then came the photographs, the sonar readings, and finally, the heart-stopping video footage captured by a deep-sea drone.

Something was down there. Something big.

And it had taken his brother.

Two years ago, Tom had ventured into these same waters on a similar research expedition. He never returned. The only clue to his fate was a garbled radio transmission, cut short by a blood-curdling scream.

Mike had spent every waking moment since then preparing for this dive, driven by a mix of scientific curiosity and a desperate need for closure.

"Remember, at the first sign of trouble, you pull that emergency ascent lever," Dr. Simmons instructed, helping Mike with his oxygen tanks. "Don't try to be a hero."

Mike nodded, his throat too tight to speak. As he approached the edge of the boat, he paused, looking out at the vast expanse of ocean before him. Somewhere below those waves lurked the answer to his brother's disappearance – and possibly his own worst nightmare.

With a deep breath, Mike stepped off the edge and plunged into the cold, dark water.

The descent was eerily quiet, broken only by the sound of Mike's breathing and the occasional crackle of his radio. As he sank deeper, the sunlight faded, replaced by the artificial glow of his diving lights.

At 100 meters, Mike switched on his helmet cam. "Base, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Mike," Dr. Simmons' voice came through. "How are you holding up?"

"So far, so good," Mike replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "No sign of our friend yet."

As he continued his descent, Mike's eyes scanned the murky water, alert for any sign of movement. At 200 meters, he began to see strange rock formations – or were they formations at all? Some looked almost like massive, ancient bones.

"Base, are you seeing this?" Mike asked, his light playing over the bizarre structures.

"Affirmative," Dr. Simmons replied, her voice tense. "Mike, those appear to be... vertebrae. Enormous vertebrae."

Mike's heart raced. What kind of creature could leave behind bones of this size?

As if in answer to his unspoken question, a low, rumbling sound vibrated through the water. Mike froze, his blood turning to ice.

"Base, please tell me you heard that," he whispered.

Silence filled his earpiece for a moment before Dr. Simmons responded, her voice barely audible. "Mike, get out of there. Now."

But Mike couldn't move. His light had caught something in the distance – a massive, dark shape shifting in the gloom. It was easily the size of a blue whale, but its form was all wrong. Multiple tentacle-like appendages writhed from an elongated body, and as it turned, Mike caught a glimpse of eyes – ancient, intelligent eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light.

"Oh my God," Mike breathed, equal parts terrified and awestruck.

The creature moved with surprising speed for its size, gliding through the water towards him. Mike's survival instincts finally kicked in, and he reached for the emergency ascent lever.

But he was too slow.

A tentacle wrapped around his leg, yanking him deeper into the abyss. Mike screamed, thrashing against the iron grip.

"Base! It's got me! It's-"

His words were cut short as another tentacle knocked his breathing apparatus loose. Water flooded his suit as he was pulled deeper and deeper.

As consciousness began to fade, Mike's last thoughts were of his brother. At least now, he knew what had happened to Tom. And soon, they would be together again, in the cold, dark embrace of the deep.

On the surface, Dr. Simmons and her team listened in horror to Mike's final transmission. The ocean had claimed another victim, leaving behind only questions and the chilling certainty that something ancient and terrible lurked in the depths below.

[otter-chaos-violence]

Meeting

Whoo first chapter! meet my little beans as they meet each other.

Contains= Gun mention, usage of said gun, violence, attempted kidnapping, restraints, gag, swearing, minors using vapes

Tatiana

--- I felt a little empty. Like always.

Staring at the board, I waited for class to start, barely able to ignore the noise.

I heard the teacher yell for silence and stiffened, breathing in. My heart pounded in my chest and I had to resist the urge to run out of the room.

I gripped the edge of my desk, and my music blasted in my ear, and I practiced the breathing exercises my therapist taught me. 

I somehow heard footsteps in my left ear and looked out the corner of my eye to see a ginger with blue streaks in her hair. She was tall, her shoulders broad, and she looked like a confused puppy. And I found her beautiful.

She wore sleek black headphones, a black leather jacket, and black leggings, and her gray bag had a keychain of a white, plastic balloon animal, as well as a blue wolf with wings. Her eyes were a strange mix of green, blue, and gray, with one much lighter than the other, and a few fiery golden flecks were visible. 

I wished I were prettier in that moment, so I’d even stand a chance with her. I had blue beads braided into my hair, but that was only temporary. My olive skin was patchy and had darker discoloration, I was short, and my face had a beauty mark on my left cheek.

She looked at the teacher, who finally noticed her and told her to sit down next to me. I felt my skin burn and let her. 

“Alright, class. First product of the quarter, we’ll be doing partner work. Pair up with your seat partners, and if you have any grievances, talk to me,”

She looked at me and whispered, “So, we’re doing this together?”

I nodded, and Mr. Simmons explained the instructions. We’d be researching what an assigned country did during World War one throughout the whole quarter, and I pulled out my mom’s old work computer when we were assigned Brazil. The other girl pulled out a nearly shattered HP computer, and Mr. Simmons took attendance. 

Her name was Chamomile, and corrected him in a whispery, yet strong voice, “I prefer Cami,”

“Apologies, Cami. Also, please take off your headphones,”

Just as he had when he told me to take out my earbuds.

Cami pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her bag and said, “It’s in my accommodations list,”

She handed him the paper, then took it back when he read what he needed to.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “However, I’m sure you don’t need it,”

He took her headphones, as he had with my earbuds, and set them on his desk next to my things.

“You can collect them at the end of class,”

She tensed, and when people started working and we’d been assigned Brazil, she covered her ears and didn’t talk for the rest of class, only writing what she wanted to say down on a whiteboard she pulled out of her bag. 

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked multiple times. Each time, Cami shrugged and wrote, ‘Could be worse.’

Eventually, the bell rang and she went and got her headphones as I got my ear buds, and she left.

I walked to my next class, where I saw my friend Ashley. I hugged her, and her feline pupils dilated to saucers. It’d been a week since we last saw each other, as she’d gotten covid, and while her voice still sounded scratchy, she wasn’t sick anymore.

As a kenomi, the last remaining kind of shifter, other than the dragon-folk, who refused most contact with society in favor of the non-shifting dragons, she was a tiny bit cat. She had cat ears, a tail, the amber eyes of a cat, while most didn’t have cat eyes, and all of them, but those afflicted by an illness that shifters could get, could shift at will. Those with the illness would randomly shift, and on full moons, they’d be too dangerous to be around. Most died after their first shift.

Ashley, thankfully, wasn’t one of them. 

We walked into our class and the teacher told us we could sit where we wanted. We sat next to each other, and a girl with light brown hair and blue eyes that came in almost late, sat on my right.

We had a getting to know you activity for class, in which our teacher asked for us to answer questions on a survey, then write a short paragraph on our summers.

When the bell rang an hour and a half later, Ashley and I went to chemistry next, and Luna came by and hugged us both. Many people called her Moon, including us, not because of her name, but because her blond hair looked like the moon. 

She was coming from AP biology and going to math class, as it turned out, meaning we had the same lunch, last lunch.

Ashley and I were not table partners, I had someone I knew from the psych ward, and their name was Bramble. Bramble was another kenomi, they had light brown ears and a light brown tail with a white tip, as compared to Ashley’s charcoal gray ears and black tail.

They hugged me and said, “Long time, no see!”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No, I’ve been out for the past- well, since you last left, actually,”

Three months.

“That is a shockingly long time for your parents,”

“Yeah- they tried, but I kinda ran away for two days, and they took the hint,”

Their voice broke into a song-like tone as they spoke those words, until they got to, ‘They took the hint’. There, it changed to a normal tone.

We’d exchanged numbers at one point, but we didn’t really use them considering Bramble’s parents put them back in the psych ward every few weeks when Bramble did anything vaguely ‘depressed’. Normally complaints about life in general. Bramble may have been actually depressed, but their treatments were working on them. Not like my treatment.

We weren’t doing much, the teacher just wanted to see what we already knew and getting to know us.

When the bell dismissed us for lunch, I introduced Bramble and Ashley, and they started talking to each other and exchanged information pretty early on.

They twined tails and we set our things at an empty table that seated eight, then saw Moon and waved her over.

Moon left her other friends and sat down next to me.

I saw Cami, and she sat at our table, the only empty spots. She didn’t interact with us, just stayed silent.

Moon tried to interact by saying, “Do you want to tell us your name or…?” 

Cami looked up and mumbled, “Um- no- sorry,”

“So, what are your interests?”

“Medieval history,”

“Anything else?”

“Um- wars. Especially the goofy ones. The lobster war, Emu war, Soccer war, things like that,”

“Never heard of any of those,”

She immediately went into a tangent on the Lobster War, “fought” between Brazil and France.

I added that much of my dead family was actually living in Brazil at the time of the war and we still had one of their lobster costumes.

Cami looked like she’d just had the best pie in the world as her first pie.

“Can I see it?” she asked.

I texted my mom for a picture of the costume, and said, “By the way, my family couldn’t really afford to do the schools for dance, so it's very…” I paused, searching for the right word, “...strange,”

It was dulled, moth eaten red fabric with a rusted, ruined wire frame to keep it up. Strange was an understatement, but it was all they could afford. I was glad my family was better off now.

My mom sent me the photo and I showed it to her, and even though it was essentially over glorified garbage, she looked even more ecstatic than before, practically jumping up and down in her seat.

She then showed me a picture of a helmet and said, “This is a brodie helmet, I found it buried in a trench when my mom took me to visit her hometown in France,”

“You stole the lobsters?” I jokingly said.

“What- no my mom isn’t a fisher- she was nob- she’s a doctor,”

“It’s just a joke, sorry I confused you,”

Her eyes brightened and she looked a bit nervous as she stuttered out, “Oh- um, okay,”

“From now on, you can ask me if I’m making a joke, okay?”

She nodded and said, “Thank you. I just realized- I don’t know your name,”

“Maria Tatiana, everyone calls me either Tatiana or Tati,”

“Oh, cool,”

Cami took out a book called A History of France and started reading.

The bell rang and Cami stood, as did I.

We went to the same class, me, Cami, and Moon. The door was locked, and there wasn’t a teacher, so we waited, and Cami and I somehow veered the conversation to the dynamics of a steam engine, then to crocheting in about two minutes.

The teacher arrived and opened the door, and directed us to our seats. He prefaced that he’d heard about Moon and I’s friendship and had us separated, then told us to take our earbuds and headphones out. He was much more understanding to Cami and I than Mr. Simmons when we told him we had the accommodations and let us keep them with the preface any music played had to be low.

I sat in my chair, and Cami was sat next to me, and other students slowly trickled in. I recognized a few, one of Moon’s friends, a girl named Marina, and her twin brother with the scars on his face I could never remember the name of. He sat next to us, and Cami stiffened and made an almost dog-like whine.

He sneered at her and snapped, “Not so wolf-hearted now, are you?”

“Leave me alone,” she squeaked. “It’s been five years, please,”

“Well, wolf-heart,” he said. He leaned in close and whispered something, and she abruptly stood and walked over to the teacher, tears glistening in her eyes, before a light blue paper was handed to her and she left.

“What did you say to her?” I accused. He didn’t answer.

The teacher moved him to a solo desk next to him and started talking, introducing himself, then having the small class of about fifteen people say their names and one fun fact.

Mine was that I was bilingual, while everyone else’s was something goofy like the time that one kid broke his arm when he was two.

Then came Marina’s twin, Hunter, and his fact was that he was attacked by a wolf five years ago, giving him the scars on his face.

Cami re-entered eventually, and said, “Guidance wants to talk to you, Hunter,” before sitting down next to me.

“Okay, so, would you like to stand up and introduce yourself?”

Cami shook her head with her eyes wide.

“At least your name?”

“Chamomile, but most people call me Cami,”

“Thank you, Cami,”

She breathed out a sigh of relief, and her shoulders relaxed.

When class was over, Hunter still hadn’t returned, so we left and I didn’t think much on their interaction.

Cami

----

I left the audition, left the school, and got in my cousin’s car. She’d lied to me my whole life about her name, at least until about three years ago.

Lyorna’s girlfriend was in the car with her, meaning I had to call her by her given name, and Lyorna immediately started teasing me.

“So, how was your first day of school?” she said in a very joking tone. Some people I could read more than others. Lyorna was like a book at this point, Tatiana, though I liked her, was like a stone wall I had my eye pressed up to. I couldn’t yet tell if she wanted to be my friend or was just a sweet person.

Lizzie smiled at me, looked over at Lyorna and mouthed with a sleepy grin, “We finish later,”

“Finish what?” I asked. Lizzie’s lipstick was smeared, I realized. “Oh… never mind,”

“Good, unless you want all the smutty, smutty details,”

I turned up my music as Lyorna started talking.

Lizzie pulled out a vape, and used it. It was sticky sweet- too sweet. 

I covered my nose and said nasally, “Please stop, it smells awful,”

“Oh. Sorry, Cami,”

She opened the windows and let the smoke air out as Lyorna started driving. I’d never understood why anyone liked vapes if they smelled like the embodiment of a sugar buzz, but that somehow worked for some people.

I looked out the window and eventually, Lyorna dropped me off, and I started up the long, windy gravel path to my house. My mother was an immortal being, and had bought this land roughly two hundred years ago when she’d moved out west. She had spent twenty years on the house and path. Twenty, long years. In those years, a friend of hers named Mary Magdalena Jones had died, and her husband at the time, a dragon-shifter named Balan, or Prayer, had been paralyzed waist-down by a tree collapsing on him in a storm. In the end, she had a house roughly five thousand square feet and eight bedrooms and she was pretty well off at the time for compensation of helping the union army with weapon supplies. The mansion had since been fixed up more and more until it resembled a big brick house, the only things that remained suggesting its ancientness being the cornerstone that said, ‘Est MDCCCXCVII,’ or for simpletons, 1897, and the inner walls being wooden slats.

Good ol home. I unlocked the door and set my bag inside, and my brother, Corey, ran up to me and gave me a tight hug.

He had no control over his shift, as he’d never been interested, and as such, he went to a private school that was all shifters. The same one I went to until I got expelled after I broke an asshole’s jaw after she called me the r-word and gave me a bloody nose. I still had to deal with her in my pack, and she still hated me.

I retreated to my room and stayed seated. Olivia texted me, and I went out to meet her.

She looked like what most people thought a dragon shifter looked like when in her hybrid form. Olive skin, big dark eyes, ears like an avali’s but scaly. She had white and gold scales in striped patterns, and serrated dragon-like claws at the end of her fingers if she wanted them out. Keyword ‘like’. Dragons’ claws typically weren’t serrated and therefore weren’t war crimes, they were more like a bayonet, triple edged. Just no gun underneath. But as we weren’t sure what she shifted into, she called herself a dragon shifter for simplicity's sake.

We walked along the path from my house to the hiking trail, and we walked along for a while. Eventually, Lyorna came by, and we talked and joked for a while, when Olivia squealed and said something amazing.

“Viper finally said I’m ready to be a healer!”

She was jumping up and down and her magic glow shooting everywhere.

“Funny, considering you still faint at the sight of blood,” I joked.

“We were twelve-!”

“I wasn’t,” Lyorna laughed, cutting her off.

Olivia stuck her tongue out at Lyorna and I heard a gunshot.

We instinctively hid under bushes, and in the earth; in Olivia’s case, and I felt someone grab me by the back of the neck and hold a gun to my throat.

I twisted before they could shoot, and flipped them over, then felt the bullet hit me in the foot. I shrieked, and Lyorna knocked out the other person, emerging from behind him and punching him in the back of the skull.

She lifted me and kissed my forehead, then called for Olivia.

Olivia emerged from the earth, the spaces between her scales caked with earth and grass. She shook her scales loose of dirt and put her glowing hand on my ankle and healed the foot over the course of an hour.

“Thank you,” I croaked.

I tried to stand and fell, and Lyorna giggled, “Oh, do you want mommy to come and kiss your little boo-boo-”

I stopped her and said, “Don’t finish that fucking sentence or I’ll take that gun down there and shoot,”

“Sorry,” she said, “Too far?”

“Too far,” I confirmed.

She carried me as a bundle in her red-mud wings for a while until I could stand again, and we walked for a while longer, when Lyorna’s ears twitched, and she pulled all of us off the path.

A blond girl I recognized as Tatiana’s friend jogged by, eyes filled with tears, an adult’s handprint on her cheek, and a small, half-filipino girl that looked about eight but talked like a ten year-old that followed after.

The little girl went ahead and Moon stopped, bending over and stretching.

The girl turned, and walked back to Moon, then Moon lifted her up, when came a gunshot, and Moon ducked to the floor, the little one almost completely hidden.

Someone walked by us, and I ducked further into the bush and closed my eyes.

“Where is Chamomile Malkom?” Hunter hissed.

“Hunter- What are you doing?” Moon whispered. I heard her backing away from the crunch on the gravel path.

“Luna, don’t play dumb. Where is she?”

“I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!” she screamed.

I heard rapid footsteps, and dared to open my eyes. From what I could see, Hunter had wrapped a pistol around Moon’s throat, and her face was turning red from lack of oxygen. The child was trying to pull Hunter away.

I decided to act at that moment.

I howled, and he let Moon go, who rubbed her throat and sank to her knees, tears falling even harder.

I crawled out in my wolf form and nudged her with my snout.

“Cami, what are you doing?” Olivia hissed in the dialect of the shifter tongue we spoke.

“Relax,” I said. 

I nudged her again, and she took the hint and started running, when Hunter ran out of the bushes and laughed.

He shot me in the side, and I roared. Moon returned to me and I accidentally bit her. She collapsed, and Lyorna ran out of the bushes, grabbed her and the little girl, and flew upwards to get them to safety.

Hunter didn’t chase them.

“I’ve been waiting years for this,” he snarled.

I started laughing. “With your patience? You insist on using the scholar’s mate opening so the match is over quicker,”

He turned red and shoved his pistol into my mouth. With difficulty, as I was over a foot taller than him. And most people.

“Shut up,” he snarled.

I nodded.

He chained my wrists behind me, and I heard Olivia following us.

I didn’t really try to fight back, I have to admit. I was only playing a game with him.

He eventually settled for weakly punching me in the jaw, and I faked a blackout. He dragged me along for a bit, and I had to resist the urge to laugh at him.

---

Eventually, he stopped after dragging me down a flight of stairs and called, “I found a were-bitch!”

At that moment, I decided to open my eyes, and as the Critura of my pack, I was able to turn people into shifters if they made direct eye contact with me when I had my eyes glow gold.

One of them seized up, and they immediately blindfolded me and gagged me. I heard one of them approach me and kick me in the gut as I tried to spit out my gag. 

I doubled over, and roared loud enough to make at least one person’s ears bleed.

Someone tilted my chin upward, probably to make me meet their eyes, and I spat in their face, then threw out one leg, swept the other person and pulled apart the silver cuffs with brute force.

I pulled off my blindfold and immediately ran away, ignoring the pain in my side.

Three chased after me. My history teacher, Hunter, and my guidance counselor. Mr. Simmons had a rifle that he periodically tried to shoot me with, Hunter had his pistol, and my guidance counselor had a dagger that she didn’t throw.

I eventually threw them off, and the adrenaline caught up with me.

I was aware when my cheek hit the ground and less so when Olivia and Lyorna lifted me.

[ownsilentin]

Dashcam Chronicles: OwnSilent RN46 Saves Innocent Driver from DUI Charge

Incident Overview

On August 3, 2025, Rebecca Simmons, a 29-year-old nurse from Denver, Colorado, was driving home after a 12-hour night shift at the hospital. Exhausted but alert, she was only a few blocks from her house when she noticed flashing blue and red lights behind her.

🚨 A police officer pulled her over, claiming she was swerving.

Rebecca was confused. She hadn’t been drinking, and while she was tired from work, she had been driving carefully.

The officer asked her to step out of the vehicle and take a sobriety test. Even though she complied, he claimed her behavior was “suspicious” and prepared to arrest her for a DUI.

Role of Dashcam Evidence

Rebecca immediately remembered her OwnSilent RN46 Dashcam was recording. She informed the officer that her dashcam had captured her entire drive and that she had not been swerving.

🎥 The video footage proved: 📌 Rebecca had been driving perfectly within her lane the entire time. 📌 There was no erratic behavior or sudden lane changes. 📌 A black sedan ahead of her was the actual vehicle swerving—not her.

🚨 The officer reviewed the footage on the spot and realized he had made a mistake.

He immediately let Rebecca go without any charges, apologizing for the misunderstanding.

Investigation and Aftermath

🔍 Rebecca later filed a report with the police department about the false accusation. 🔍 Her dashcam footage was included in the case review. 🔍 The department acknowledged the error and issued a formal apology.

Had Rebecca not installed her OwnSilent RN46 Dashcam, she could have: ❌ Been falsely arrested for DUI. ❌ Faced legal fees and a damaged reputation. ❌ Had her nursing career put at risk due to the wrongful charge.

Instead, her dashcam saved her from a life-altering mistake.

Emotional Impact

Rebecca was shaken but relieved.

"I was terrified. I knew I was innocent, but without my dashcam, I might not have been able to prove it. I can’t imagine how different my life would be if I had been wrongly arrested.”

Now, she never drives without her OwnSilent RN46 Dashcam and encourages all professionals who rely on their clean records to do the same.

Lessons from the Incident

🚦 Even innocent drivers can be wrongly accused. 🚦 Dashcam footage provides undeniable proof of your driving behavior. 🚦 Your career and reputation can depend on having video evidence.

With the OwnSilent RN46 Dashcam, Rebecca was able to:

✅ Clear herself from false DUI charges. ✅ Expose the real reckless driver on the road. ✅ Protect her career and future.

Final Thoughts

Don’t let a false accusation ruin your life. Get the proof you need before you need it.

OwnSilent RN46 Dashcam – Your Proof of Innocence

Buy Now: OwnSilent RN46 Dashcam

[introsquirrel]

playing the new chapter of black mesa blue shift (focal point) and holy crap

most of black mesa from gordon's pov is like "don't come to xen, we are preventing you from coming to xen"

and for barney it's like "YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD LEAVE BITCH???? FUCK YOU, 5 MILLION CONTROLLER AMBUSHES"

i was so freakin stressed

also that chapter is LOOOOOONG, which is awesome but also it took me far longer than i anticipated to get through it

also the whole "what's taking him so long" simmons you ignorant cabbage, i'm fighting for my life out here

[elijahmarkelcraneiii]

split harmony: pink, purple then blue

in awe

eye to eye

equal in fact, full in size

no surprise, that we smise

at the darkness within our undertowed intentions behind lids of our sight

secret intentions, no interruptions - imploding beyond interceptions that keep coming

volcanic in sense

the time is timing, this instant

turning like the table

full on buffet

wine glass away

in the driveway of some land you own

walked on wheat, to sit up and light the earth up in a linear measure

therefore we are stoned, tabla rasa - clean slate when we link

smoke is evaporating, feelings permanent like ink

considering to get her or hang out longer together

pen is moving fast, fast like your thoughts when you think

like lips to straw full of that lemonade from the ladel

see through like the cusp of the transparency

life gave up lemons, took a toast for virtue in a vicious phase

appealing yet revealing even with a sour heart or a bitter taste

asked you out, for history - bloodline sake

a resonance that time and worry can never fade for something fake

speaking in and out the high, just to hash out problems

like freshly rolled blunts on display, with the ash all on em

jealousy, it's not you

envy, i'm not you

betrayal, i would not do

envious, not ever of you

i'm not ashamed to try and love you

only as good as protection like the vibe stay smooth

even soft to the touch, if the plastic ripped open

it would be for the safety, in this active play

if i hail mary, and fuck with you the long way

if i punt it, then you must kick it

yes, even if you blitz in

like kopay, smith, and simmons

or over my head into the endzone - smitten with the awareness of your touch, your smile

that look when you be knowing - off the dash

lights are reflecting showing

how you steady

glowing, like the ash when you get this

try again, put your lips on it - hit this

grass is greener, embark my touch

loved you for my souls sake

collecting all blessings, as others gravitate

we soul-cycled, thank to the skies

thanks to the wings of our sacred love and the sinning in the velvet lust

bless every action that we take, mentally, physically, emotionally and even sometimes spiritually we need a break

to be in-between another's lips, no mistake

no, need to wait

know, need to take

if it ain't fair it's fake, soon to be frosted then flake

no disrespect for my sake, repent the love and anything i did or did not make

11:11 pm - i wish, for my dreams to come true over affirmed dates to support the class, culture, you and i even me and you

order the stake

only thing to be granted, is something i can't break

true love is the only, thing that i can keep without having a nightmare within my daydream causing me to be illusive to what god's plan has brought me through faith

circumstance in grace, dark and light i embrace

distilled like the seven seas, blessed beyond the sneeze, away like a breeze then set you free without a trace

all whites no brace, pickett fence my face

too homebody, too godly - not to see the red flags all in my face

4 lines add some space, check in the box - poll it in pace

things will always work out, light, dark even in or not in my face

optics all around me, currency is always drowning

chaos frowning, while creativity keeps grounding

like dirt in the root, see me like smoke in the air

like wait, how you do that there?

can you breathe, are you alright my dear?

accepting the fog, until we clear

hopped out the passenger, to shift things and switch our gears

turned lust into love

turn fear into tears

turned yearning for me daily, into a dinner with the city - under the influence of economic change, universal grain, and a starry night where we see the climate change, newness amid vain and to be a cure to your life turn your knight into a good-nightly

freed ourselves from control, chaos, and conspired theories... among our thoughts, there it hit me - it was the blunt or maybe love...

if I ever confused, please forgive me.