#tropical gothic island

[tropical-gothic-island]

[fira54funko]

The Funkos Visit The Bahamas Pt. 2

[buggysangel17]

The Bride of A Warlord

Summary: You have arrived to what you now call your new home, it was scary and confusing, but at least you have someone else to keep you company. Characters: Dracule Mihawk x Wife!Female Reader (Amihan). Perona Word Count: 1,198 Chapter Warnings:  Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence (I am still in episode 20 of OP Anime so please bear with me on the fucked up timeline of events here)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?

You were consumed by a cocktail of fear and excitement.

But that was only natural to feel in your current predicament. Taken from your home due to circumstance that was no longer in your control. You turned to what you now call your husband. Dracule Mihawk was a man not to be trifled with, one of the Seven Warlords and dubbed the Greatest Swordsman in the world.

“I will have your room prepared as soon as possible.” Mihawk spoke, interrupting you from your train of thoughts.

All you could do was nod. You were taken from your own home, miles away from what you had once been so familiar with, a place that you had deemed had become your own prison. Any form of freedom you would take, even if it means being under the circumstantial marriage with one Warlord such as Mihawk.

“Yes, Sir.” You nodded, having no right to complain or react negatively for a short wait.

Even without looking at him, you’ve noticed his sharp yellow eyes glued fall to you. Turning to looking up at him, you noticed his narrowed eyes, a frown that was something you had gotten so used to rest on his lips.

“You will call me by my name, I do not agree to have you calling me of anything else while under you are under my care.”

You gulped, but nodded your head in agreement. This man, as handsome as he was, still scared you. Having caught firsthand the destruction his sword could make to your entire island should his will make it.

“You are not here as my prisoner, you can freely explore the castle should you wish to do so. All I ask is you not to leave unless you tell me or have me to accompany you, is that understood?”

“Yes—Mihawk.” You responded quickly.

As you step off the grandiose boat onto the rocky shore of Kuraigana Island, your heard races with anticipation and uncertainty. The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and new adventure, but it’s the sight before you that leaves you breathless. Your new husband’s castle, looms high above, perched on a ragged cliff that seems to defy gravity.

The castle is a dark, imposing fortress, its jagged spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a giant’s skeletal hands. The stone walls are as grey and foreboding as the thunderclouds that hover over the island. You can’t help but shudder at the stark contrast between the castle and the vibrant, tropical island that surrounds it.

Your arrival has not gone unnoticed. From the castle's towering parapets, you catch glimpses of shadowy figures watching your every move. As you start to climb the narrow, winding path that leads to the castle gates, your footsteps echo in the eerie silence.

The closer you get, the more details you can make out. The castle is adorned with intricate, Gothic architecture, with gargoyles leering down from the eaves. The windows are narrow and slit-like, like the eyes of a predator, and they seem to be keeping a watchful gaze on you. The walls are covered in ivy and moss, as if nature itself is trying to reclaim this imposing structure.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease as you approach the massive, iron-bound gates. The air feels heavy with centuries of history, and you can't shake the feeling that the castle holds secrets, both wondrous and sinister, within its ancient walls.

As the gates slowly creak open, revealing the cavernous darkness beyond, your heart pounds in your chest. You have entered a world unlike any you have ever known, a world of mystery and danger. And as you step across the threshold, you can't help but wonder what awaits you in this forbidding castle on Kuraigana Island.

As you step through the imposing gates of Mihawk's castle, your heart is still pounding with trepidation. The exterior of the castle had filled you with a sense of foreboding, but as you cross the threshold and enter the grand foyer, you are struck by a stark contrast.

The interior of the castle is a complete surprise. The space is bathed in warm, inviting light that spills from ornate chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. Elaborate tapestries hang on the walls, depicting scenes of epic battles and exotic landscapes. The polished marble floors beneath your feet reflect the glow of the many candles that line the corridor leading deeper into the castle.

Your husband, Mihawk, takes your hand and leads you forward, his expression unreadable. His grip is reassuring, grounding you in this unexpected change of atmosphere. You exchange a glance with him, and for a moment, you both share a silent understanding of the paradoxical nature of the castle.

The air inside is fragrant with the scent of fresh flowers, and the walls are adorned with vibrant paintings and delicate porcelain vases filled with blossoms.

As you explore the interior of the castle, you discover cozy sitting rooms with plush sofas and grand dining halls set with opulent feasts. The contrast between the grim exterior and the opulent interior is almost surreal, and you can't help but marvel at the transformation.

Mihawk guides you to a balcony overlooking a breathtaking garden bathed in moonlight. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you realize that the castle holds a world of beauty and wonder that you could not have imagined.

As you stand together on the balcony, surrounded by the enchanting sights and sounds of the castle, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope and excitement for the future that awaits you here, in this magical, enigmatic place.

It wasn’t your home, no, far from it, but with this new found freedom, all you could think of right now is what the world could possibly be able to give you now.

“You have a guest along? That’s surprising from you.”

You tensed, immediately finding yourself stepping closer to the man you now call your husband. Turning to the owner of the voice, the sight of a pink-haired girl over a decade younger than you had floated towards your direction with what you think were ghost accompanying her.

“Not a guest.” Mihawk explained his gaze was on you, you tensed as his hand had rested on the small of your back. “My wife.” He introduce without much of a hesitation in his tone.

“Wife?!” The girl gaped and was immediately all over you, questioning you and your life decisions and how much of a sour sport Mihawk was to her especially as he had left her all alone in the castle.

“You have a daughter?” You inquired.

“No, just an unwelcomed guest.” He explained earning the offense of the girl that you now learned was named Perona. “But she will keep you company for the instance that I will be out for a while.”

You nodded turning your attention to the package that came with now living in the same home, in the same castle, and in the same Island as your new husband. It was a chaos that you were slowly but surely coming to enjoy as time goes by.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Snowdrop - Bruce Wayne x Reader (Aka Snapdragon Pt 2)

Snowdrop (Galanthus) - Meaning: Consolation, Hope

Summary: Following your accusation of cheating, Bruce shares his biggest secret with you. Read Part 1 Here (but can be read on its own)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Word Count: 2450

Warnings: Angsty, mix of Nolan/2022 The Batman universes, kisses, lots of lingering touches but Bruce is nervous as hell, Alfred being a bit of a mother hen, mentions of Bruce's parents' death, mentions of danger

So this is my apology for cutting my 30 days down to 25 and leaving y'all hanging. I got sick and started a new job at the end of April so I've been busy! I'm thinking this might turn into a mini series or a bunch of headcanons because I just watched The Batman again and I want to love all over this sad, wet cat.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are SUPER appreciated! <3

The private car pulled up outside Wayne Manor, Bruce having sent it to your office. You thanked the driver — noticeably not Alfred, much to your dismay — when he opened your door and helped you out. 

You looked up at the Gothic mansion. The weather perfectly complimented the sharp finials and fanciful turrets, dark clouds threatening rain looming behind it.

You couldn’t help but feel it was an omen of some kind. 

‘We need to talk.’

Bruce’s text from that morning (five thirty to be precise, who even gets up that early?) had your stomach in knots all day while you obsessed over the meaning behind his vagueness. Would it be a Good Talk? The kind that meant he was surprising you with a two-week-no-phones trip to a private tropical island so you could reconnect with each other? Part apology trip, part reassurance. 

Or was this a Bad Talk? He was stunned last night when you’d asked if he was cheating but he never actually answered the question. Maybe tonight he would explain that yes, he was cheating but not because he didn’t love you — he was just not cut out for monogamy. In which case you would be okay, but you’d definitely need to talk about boundaries and expectations. Or maybe he was so rankled by your accusation he would sulk all through dinner, then hand you a bag of all the things you’d left at his place and send you on your way. 

Due to the earliness of the text, you’d had all day to prepare for the worst case scenario. Squaring your shoulders, you walked up the stone steps to the front door. Before you could knock, Alfred had whipped the tall wooden doors open and ushered you inside. 

“Come in, come in, Miss! Don’t want to get caught in the rain, do we?” He took your coat and work bag, tucking them over his arm. “Master Wayne is waiting for you in the study while I finish up dinner. You can go on up, third door on the left, remember?” 

“Thanks, Alfred,” you replied, the butler disappearing as you mounted the massive main staircase. In no particular rush, you sauntered down the long spacious corridor, lined on both sides by paintings that cost more than you made in five years. The value of this hallway alone was more money than you’d probably ever see in your lifetime. Just outside the study, you paused in front of one of your favorites. 

A 19th-century piece by Turner, it depicted a ship lost in a storm. Thick swaths of violent black and blue, a shocking splash of amber in the center around the only recognizable part of the ship — the mast — which dipped at a dangerous angle. You felt like that boat right now. Tossed and turned about, a helpless casualty to an apathetic universe.

But calm seas never did make skilled sailors, and a skilled sailor knew that the only way out was through. With a steadying breath, you continued your way toward the study and entered. 

An Ella Fitzgerald song played lowly on the speakers, the fire was lit and cast a warm, comforting glow on the dark furniture. Across from you, silhouetted in the giant picture window, Bruce stood with his back to you. The urge to go over and wrap your arms around his waist, hug him from behind and bury your face between his shoulders was almost overwhelming until you remembered why you were there. 

“Bruce,” you said by way of announcing yourself. He turned then, blue eyes finding you instantaneously and he set down the whiskey glass he’d been holding. He looked tense, broad shoulders rigid atop a ramrod-straight spine, his gaze unwavering and unreadable. 

“I haven’t been cheating on you,” he said, glancing away before continuing, “but I haven’t been honest with you either. 

“Oh,” you breathed, unsure of what to do. This was strange — he was acting strange. He hadn’t offered you a drink, hadn’t greeted you, hadn’t even said your name. Your hands fidgeted restlessly — should you demand an explanation or keep your cool, wait for him to tell you? 

Bruce answered your unasked question for you. 

“Before I tell you I need you to know some things. First and foremost, I love you. I know my reputation as a playboy, but that’s…never really been me. And I know the press thinks we’re mismatched but they couldn’t be more wrong, okay? You are incredible and I wake up more and more in love with you. Even if —” he paused, gathered himself, “even if after I tell you, you never want to see me again. I will always love you.” 

Your knees shook — your entire body felt like jello. What he was going to tell you must be really, really bad. “I-I love you too, Bruce.”

He approached you then, apparently noticing the tremor in your voice. You let him take your trembling hand and lead you to the long leather couch by the fireplace. He looked so unlike himself — humbled and insecure where he was always calm and confident. Whatever he had to tell you, it was life-changing big.

The silver lining was that he wasn’t cheating on you. 

“Secondly,” he said, his tone quieter now that you sat side-by-side, him angling to face you, “is that this secret is…it’s dangerous. It could potentially put a target on your back if it ever came to light, so I’m giving you a choice. I will tell you if you want to know, or we can forget about it and move on. Pretend this never happened.” 

What could be so dangerous? You wracked your brain for an answer. Was he a drug kingpin? A mob boss? Mercenary? You doubted all those options given how much money he donated to GCPD and legal advocacy groups — but what if that was just a smoke screen to cover his heinous crimes? 

On the other hand, this was Bruce. Thoughtful, kind, generous Bruce who held you so gently when you lay in bed at night, who pulled out chairs and opened doors and walked on the street side of you wherever you went. The man who loved you so fiercely he’d made you believe in the concept again. 

You couldn’t languish in the storm any longer. You had to know. 

“Tell me, Bruce,” you said, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I want to know.” 

He nodded solemnly, some of his hair falling into his face. He led you off the couch and toward a corner of the library where he gently tilted a nondescript leatherbound book off the shelf, which opened a hidden door. “It’s easier if I show you first.” 

When he’d first brought you to the Manor, you’d asked if he had any secret doors or hidden passages, to which he said no. You’d then teased him about it, expressing your disappointment. “How do you not? Isn’t that the point of a house like this? Damn, rich people are so bad at being rich!” 

If you weren’t currently trying to keep your insides from completely liquefying, you would’ve rubbed his face in the fact that you’d been right after all. 

An old-fashioned cage elevator opened, and Bruce gestured you inside. He followed and pushed a lever down. The door creaked shut and you began your descent. Into what or where, you had no idea. 

Sensing your trepidation, Bruce rested a hand on your lower back.

You relaxed a little at his touch, leaning back into it but still needing to break the taut line of tension between you. “Oh god, this isn’t the secret entrance to your illegal blood diamond mine, is it?” 

Bruce chuckled mirthlessly, “No, it’s not an illegal blood diamond mine.” 

“Hm,” you replied, “Would’ve explained the boatloads of cash.” 

By the time you finished your comment, you’d arrived at the bottom of the elevator shaft. The door opened with a whine, and you stepped into a place you never thought you’d see. A place you hadn’t really thought about existing but made sense. 

The space around you was cavernous — literally. Craggy walls with stalactites hanging down forty feet above your heads. The fluttering of some sort of winged creature echoed off of every surface. The setting was completely incongruous to all the high tech monitors, gadgets, and surveillance gear strewn about the numerous surfaces. 

Directly in front of you, a mannequin wearing a black suit of armor that any Gothamite would recognize stared at you. 

Batman. 

You wandered closer to the suit, seeing it up close for the first time, utterly gobsmacked. You couldn’t ignore the numerous scars that littered Bruce’s torso, a few of the larger ones lined up with areas in the suit that had been repaired. Moving further into the room, you let your eyes travel over the various in-progress projects, folders with papers and news articles spilling out of them, a stack of journals. The top of which was labeled with the current month and year on the front. Organized chaos — you were surprised Alfred let this mess stand. 

You looked back over your shoulder, searching for confirmation from Bruce who hadn’t moved out of the elevator. Giving you time to roam, explore, take it all in. 

“You’re Batman,” you said. The look on Bruce’s face said it all and slowly, certain things began to make sense. Late night texts, oddly placed scars and bruises with vague or strange explanations, how good he was at not waking you when he left your apartment. How Batman had all the cool criminal-catching tech and gadgets that the Gotham police couldn’t afford. The nigh-on-impossible-to-scale walls Bruce had built around himself, his playboy persona, all of it. 

He wasn’t kidding when he’d told you this secret was dangerous. How easily all of this could unravel.

You didn’t know what to say. So many questions buzzed through your mind it made you dizzy. 

“Are you…okay? What do you think?” he asked, taking a few cautious steps out of the elevator toward you.

“I’m okay,” you said, fixing your eyes on a batarang on the table beside you, absentmindedly tracing the sharp edge with one finger. “It’s a lot to take in. I mean, I almost wish you had been cheating. At least that way I could be mad, but this?” You gestured around the cave. “I don’t know how to react. I’m…shocked, obviously, but it makes so much sense and explains so much more that I’m overwhelmed by it.” 

You didn’t know when the tears started, but Bruce was in front of you, wiping them away with his thumbs before gently tilting your face up to his. 

“Do you want to go back upstairs? Alfred’s probably got dinner all set, you can have some time to process, ask questions…” he trailed off. 

You nodded, “Yeah, upstairs sounds good.” 

The ride back up to the manor was silent except for the creaking and groaning of the elevator. Bruce’s arm was around your shoulder, providing warmth and comfort to your increasingly numb body and mind. 

You had no idea what to feel. What to think. What to say. Maybe Bruce was right and you needed to process — yeah, that felt right, process. 

Process the fact that the man you love went around Gotham at night beating the snot out of evildoers. Spent the nights he wasn’t with you hunting down corrupt cops and serial killers and masked madmen who only wanted to watch the city — your city — burn itself to ashes. 

The lengths men will go to to avoid therapy.

Bruce led you through the study and down the hall to the dining room, where Alfred had set up a romantic candlelight dinner for two at the far end of the extravagantly long table. 

Like the gentleman he was raised to be, Bruce pulled out your chair and pushed it in as you sat, leaning forward to place a tender kiss at the crown of your head before taking his seat. 

Hope flickered in his eyes as he looked at you, and you looked away. 

Alfred entered the room pushing a cart of silver-domed trays. One by one he pulled the domes off to reveal all of your favorite comfort foods. No doubt this was Bruce’s idea. He was thoughtful like that; figuring that you would want comfort food after learning his secret. 

That hopeful flicker lingered over every bite you took as you dug in. You hadn’t realized how famished you were, having skipped lunch due to the unease caused by his cryptic text.

While you ate, your mind kept mulling over the information you’d learned. With how intelligent and thoughtful he was, you knew Bruce had gone over every possible outcome of tonight, which is why you suspected he left the choice up to you on whether you wanted to know or not. He had laid his cards on the table, trusted you with his most life-shattering secret, and the next move was up to you. He wouldn’t force a reaction or response and would respect and accept whatever you decided to do.

But really, what was there to do? You loved him, possibly more so after this incredible display of trust. Vulnerability like this wasn’t easy for either of you, so really your reaction was already determined. 

When you finished eating, you put your napkin on your plate and stood up. You crossed to Bruce’s seat and curled yourself on his lap. Automatically, his arms encircled you and you rested your head on his chest, noting how quickly his heart beat. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said, burrowing a little further into his well-worn t-shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, though. I love you too much to let you keep doing this alone.” 

You could feel the tension you’d noticed earlier leave his body even as his arms tightened around you, pulling you somehow closer. 

“You realize the risk you’re putting yourself in, right? I…if anything happened to you because of—”

You pulled your head up and looked him square in the eye. “I know the risk. You’re worth the risk. And if anything happens to me, I’ll just haunt the batcave and the manor so it’ll be like I never left.” You were half-joking, smiling at him as you ran a hand through his long raven locks. He leaned into your touch, eyes closed. 

“I just can’t lose you like I lost…” My parents. 

It was unsaid, but the meaning was there. In that moment it was impossible not to see him as a young boy, newly orphaned, wandering this enormous house alone, looking for his mother and father. 

You pulled his head toward yours and rested your forehead on his temple while you continued to stroke his hair. 

“You’ll never lose me, Bruce,” you vowed.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The imperial gothic’s predilection for metaphor becomes a way for US citizens to talk about the nature and challenges of colonialism through myth and symbol. Thus, US empire exists in the imperial gothic as a displaced discourse, always there but rarely recognised for what it is. In the imperial gothic, Indians are slaughtered, but this is never genocide; black bodies are burned and mutilated, but this is never racist violence; natives are gunned down on tropical islands, and their treasures brought back to the urban centres, but this is never colonialism.

Johan Anders Höglund, The American Imperial Gothic: Popular Culture, Empire, Violence

[eldritch-spouse]

Demon girlfriends… Bagel Goddess please I need more from them! 🙇‍♀️

[Going to be real, I didn't think too much about them.]

I'm taking name suggestions for them. :7

The wrath demoness, which I've been mentally calling Nicele (or just Nic) for some reason (brain just decided that), is a fucking truck of a woman. I imagine her having tusks, but her visuals shift so far. She's pretty charismatic for a hardass, and is employed in King Kalymir's deadly forces. Yeah, she's scary as fuck, but people genuinely tend to start liking her easily. She's high-ranking.

The pride demoness is a mid-ranker that passes as an imp due to her short stature. She has long curled hair that can be likened to a surfacer's. No one really knows where she comes from, but the woman has a lot of connections and more power than a mid-ranker usually would. Tough cookie but not as much as your usual prideful dorks.

The succubus in question is actually one of the most laid back demons you'll ever find. She hasn't got a drop of malice in her, and her deepest desire is honestly to move to a tropical island on the surface. Very simple girl, all things considered, in spite of often giving off the vibe that she's out there to ruin someone's day. Most people assume her sweetness is a trick, so she doesn't find friends easily. High-ranker but not the most powerful (because she's a little lazy in honing that power).

The sloth demoness is meaner than she looks. She's mostly gothic and many people are put off by her general air. It's sometimes a bit hard to read her body language, but she's incredibly heartfelt and honest with others. Has very few friends and very rarely leaves her home.

They know each other already due to a series of unlikely circumstances, and the way they know you is due to the succubus in question being tired of spotting tourists in Lust getting sexually harassed at every turn. You looked especially lost, like it was your first time in the Rings, and some asshole was already bullying you into letting them touch you. Her day's frustrations coalesced into a rage and she brawls with the stranger in question, easily overwhelming them and having to give your frightened self some chase afterwards. The way you flinched as if she was going to force herself upon you too was heartbreaking to the high-ranker, and at a loss for what to do, she takes you with her to the friend hangout that was scheduled that day.

It was not a peaceful meeting, to say the least.

Since then however, you've kind of been inseparable. All of them warmed up to you at their own speeds, and you went from being the sad little human, to the funny little woman, and now the group's precious and weirdly demon-magnetic friend.

They call you their friend, but sometimes that doesn't feel like it's enough to describe how intimately they feel about you.

That was fast. 👀

[amythestsimmer]

So, as I was watching @whinybrit's "Playing as a spellcaster because chat GPT told me to! // Sims 4 AI challenge" video, I got the idea of seeing if I can make a Legacy Challenge with ChatGPT. So I did! There aren't enough legacy challenges that are for occults. I had it made!

General Rules:

No Cheats: Apart from resetting money to the correct amount when starting.

Lifespan: Set to "Normal."

Heir Selection: Any child can be chosen as the heir, but they must follow the next generation’s theme.

Mods and Custom Content: Allowed if they do not provide unfair advantages.

Recommendations: Zer0's mods, @sp-creates Werewolf mod.

Legacy:

Generation 1: The Founder

Traits: Ambitious, Family-Oriented, Creative

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Business - Management

Goals:

Reach level 10 in the Business career.

Marry and have at least 3 children.

Build a house worth at least 50,000 Simoleons.

Appearance: Professional and elegant. Formal wear often includes suits or business dresses.

Challenge: Start with no more than 1,800 Simoleons after purchasing the lot and build your house gradually.

Generation 2: The Enchanter

Traits: Bookworm, Good, Genius

Aspiration: Spellcraft and Sorcery

Career: None (Focus on magic and alchemy)

Goals:

Become a Spellcaster and reach the Virtuoso rank.

Master the Practical Magic and Alchemy branches.

Collect all magic tomes and potions.

Appearance: Mystical and scholarly. Often seen wearing robes or mystical attire.

Challenge: Never hold a traditional job; instead, earn money through magical means.

Generation 3: The Day Walker

Traits: Music Lover, Perfectionist, Loner

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Career: Entertainer - Musician

Goals:

Become a Grand Master Vampire.

Master the Pipe Organ skill.

Turn at least 5 Sims into vampires.

Appearance: Dark and elegant, favoring Victorian-era clothing.

Challenge: Complete the entire branch of sunlight resistance.

Generation 4: The Ocean’s Embrace

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Loves Outdoors, Cheerful

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Conservationist - Marine Biologist

Goals:

Become a mermaid/merman.

Clean up Sulani and complete the Beach Life aspiration.

Have at least 3 children who also become mermaids/mermen.

Appearance: Beachy and relaxed. Often wears swimwear or tropical attire.

Challenge: Live in Sulani and never move out of the island.

Generation 5: The Alien Ambassador

Traits: Geek, Clumsy, Genius

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Scientist

Goals:

Discover the Sixam world.

Max out the Rocket Science and Logic skills.

Complete the Nerd Brain aspiration.

Appearance: Futuristic and sleek. Often wears metallic or space-themed clothing.

Challenge: Build a rocket ship and use it regularly to explore space.

Generation 6: The Spirit Medium

Traits: Gloomy, Good, Neat

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Career: Paranormal Investigator

Goals:

Befriend and communicate with at least 10 ghosts.

Max out the Medium skill.

Complete the Paranormal Investigator freelance career.

Appearance: Gothic and ethereal. Often wears dark and flowing garments.

Challenge: Live in a haunted house and conduct regular séances.

Generation 7: The Big Bad Wolf

Traits: Hot-Headed, Active, Loves Outdoors

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Career: Athlete - Professional Athlete

Goals:

Become the Alpha of a werewolf pack.

Max out the Fitness and Charisma skills.

Turn at least 3 Sims into werewolves.

Appearance: Rugged and athletic. Often wears casual and durable clothing.

Challenge: Must fight and win against other werewolves to establish dominance.

Generation 8: The Green Thumb

Traits: Green Fiend, Vegetarian, Loves Outdoors

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Career: Gardener - Botanist

Goals:

Become a PlantSim and maintain PlantSim form.

Max out the Gardening and Herbalism skills.

Complete the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Appearance: Natural and earthy. Often wears green and floral-themed clothing.

Challenge: Grow and maintain a perfect garden with at least one of each type of plant.

Generation 9: The Mechanical Marvel

Traits: Perfectionist, Geek, Loner

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Engineer - Mechanical Engineer

Goals:

Build and maintain Servo robots.

Max out the Robotics and Programming skills.

Complete the Computer Whiz aspiration.

Appearance: Techy and modern. Often wears futuristic or robotic-themed clothing.

Challenge: Create and maintain at least one Servo robot that becomes part of the household.

Generation 10: The Hybrid

Traits: Creative, Ambitious, Cheerful

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Freelance - Any Branch

Goals:

Have traits or abilities from at least two different occult types.

Master at least 3 different skills.

Complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration.

Appearance: Unique and eclectic. Mixes elements from various occult-themed clothing.

Challenge: Achieve maximum levels in three different occult-related skills or abilities.

Written into reality by ChapGPT, ideas and goals are by me! Enjoy!

[evenshadow]

Vultures \\ a tropical gothic horror

Content Warnings: Death, Bugs, Blood

Excerpt below the cut.

Desperate to be anywhere but home, recently disgraced doctor Emily Fayne arrives at the wifi-free tropical wellness resort of Monte Descanso, a renovated Spanish fortress on its own private island. Amenities include sandy beaches, guided spelunking tours, special health juices, and swarms of vulture bees prowling the jungle in search of rotting flesh.

From the first night Emily can tell that something isn’t right. She’s seeing things that can’t be there, some of the other guests are acting strange, and their signature wellness drink, the elixir, that makes her feel too good to believe. Still, it’s easy to put it all down to jet lag and stress when staying means getting to go late-night skinny dipping with the resort’s hot yoga instructor, Jessa.

When Jessa goes missing a few days later, Emily must team up with eccentric treasure-hunting divorcee Phillipa to discover what happened. They begin to suspect that Jessa’s disappearance is connected to the disappearance of sailors on the island in the 1700’s, and that the cheerful resort owner, Harmony, knows more than she’s letting on.

Excerpt

Someone was knocking at the door and she should answer it. 

She got up at the third knock, hoping it would be Philippa with some of her smuggled contraband. She'd have to ask her to get her source to bring in bread and chocolate next time- the booze just wasn't cutting it. Emily threw a fuzzy robe overtop of her old oversized t-shirt, and looked through the peephole. 

Jessa was standing there, wearing the purple sportsbra and leggings she had been this morning at yoga and a wide, unflinching smile. 

Emily's hand went to the deadbolt immediately to let her in, but something stopped her. Before they'd gone into the cave, maybe she could have written it off, but she was tired of telling herself that her eyes and her ears and her whole body was lying to her. Something was wrong. 

She hesitated at the chain. 

The knock came again. 

"Hey, it's me! Jessa! Come on out, there's something I want to show you."

Her voice sounded hollow, like it was coming from far away. She pulled back from the door and looked through the peephole again, only to jerk backwards. Jessa’s eye was pressed right up against the peephole, making it look wide and distorted like a whale's. 

Whatever Jessa wanted to show her, Emily didn't want to see it. 

She took a couple of steps back from the door, trying to process while her mind was in a screaming panic, hide-under-the-covers mode. 

Jessa knocked again. "Come on, I know you're in there. You can't be tired yet. You have to come see this!"

There was no way she could actually see inside the peephole, right? Jessa couldn't see her inching backwards, going towards the phone. For all Jessa knew, she was downstairs having a midnight snack or holed up in some corner with Phillipa trading tall tales. 

Emily didn't know what she would say if she picked up the phone and got through to reception. ‘Help, my friend isn't my friend and she wants me to come outside?’ That seemed useless. Unless...

The Jessa at the door knocked louder. "Emily! Emily? Emily!"

Emily picked up the phone, and dialed 0 for reception. 

Sylvie's cheery voice was on the other end of the line. "Good evening, Emily. What can I do for you?"

She knocked again. Once, twice. It grew into a constant sound, her knuckles on the door without pause. 

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

"You guys have land lines, in your rooms, right?" Emily whispered into the receiver. They must have phones somehow. This wasn't a prison or a reality show where people had to be expected to stand in line and wait to talk to their mothers. "Can you connect me to Jessa? It's important. I know you're probably not supposed to do that but..."

The tapping was still going. She- it- whatever - was still there, just outside. 

"I mean, we’re not supposed to…”

“Please. You can take away my phone privileges if I abuse it. It’s urgent.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Fine, but just for you. It’s against policy. Is there something wrong?"

Yes. Yes yes yes. 

"No." Emily knew she should have elaborated, but she couldn’t think up a good enough excuse while her mind was seizing in panic.

"Okay. Hold for a moment."

Some calming flute music with ocean sound effects started playing and Emily had never hated the flute so much in her life.It felt like an age, but was only thirty seconds or so, before she heard another voice on the end of the line.

"Hello?"

It was Jessa's voice, as far as she could remember. Some part of her brain was fracturing trying to reconcile the idea that she was hearing Jessa's voice from two places at once. 

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

"Are you somehow outside my door right now?"

"No."

[fatehbaz]

On May 28, 1914, the Institut für Schiffs-und Tropenkrankheiten (Institute for Maritime and Tropical Diseases, ISTK) in Hamburg began operations in a complex of new brick buildings on the bank of the Elb. The buildings were designed by Fritz Schumacher, who had become the Head of Hamburg’s building department (Leiter des Hochbauamtes) in 1909 after a “flood of architectural projects” accumulated following the industrialization of the harbor in the 1880s and the “new housing and working conditions” that followed. The ISTK was one of these projects, connected to the port by its [...] mission: to research and heal tropical illnesses; [...] to support the Hamburg Port [...]; and to support endeavors of the German Empire overseas.

First established in 1900 by Bernhard Nocht, chief of the Port Medical Service, the ISTK originally operated out of an existing building, but by 1909, when the Hamburg Colonial Institute became its parent organization (and Schumacher was hired by the Hamburg Senate), the operations of the ISTK had outgrown [...]. [I]ts commission by the city was an opportunity for Schumacher to show how he could contribute to guiding the city’s economic and architectural growth in tandem, and for Nocht, an opportunity to establish an unprecedented spatial paradigm for the field of Tropical Medicine that anchored the new frontier of science in the German Empire. [...]

[There was a] shared drive to contribute to the [...] wealth of Hamburg within the context of its expanding global network [...]. [E]ach discipline [...] architecture and medicine were participating in a shared [...] discursive operation. [...]

---

The brick used on the ISTK façades was key to Schumacher’s larger Städtebau plan for Hamburg, which envisioned the city as a vehicle for a “harmonious” synthesis between aesthetics and economy. [...] For Schumacher, brick [was significantly preferable] [...]. Used by [...] Hamburg architects [over the past few decades], who acquired their penchant for neo-gothic brickwork at the Hanover school, brick had both a historical presence and aesthetic pedigree in Hamburg [...]. [T]his material had already been used in Die Speicherstadt, a warehouse district in Hamburg where unequal social conditions had only grown more exacerbated [...]. Die Speicherstadt was constructed in three phases [beginning] in 1883 [...]. By serving the port, the warehouses facilitated the expansion and security of Hamburg’s wealth. [...] Yet the collective profits accrued to the city by these buildings [...] did not increase economic prosperity and social equity for all. [...] [A] residential area for harbor workers was demolished to make way for the warehouses. After the contract for the port expansion was negotiated in 1881, over 20,000 people were pushed out of their homes and into adjacent areas of the city, which soon became overcrowded [...]. In turn, these [...] areas of the city [...] were the worst hit by the Hamburg cholera epidemic of 1892, the most devastating in Europe that year. The 1892 cholera epidemic [...] articulated the growing inability of the Hamburg Senate, comprising the city’s elite, to manage class relationships [...] [in such] a city that was explicitly run by and for the merchant class [...].

In Hamburg, the response to such an ugly disease of the masses was the enforcement of quarantine methods that pushed the working class into the suburbs, isolated immigrants on an island, and separated the sick according to racial identity.

In partnership with the German Empire, Hamburg established new hygiene institutions in the city, including the Port Medical Service (a progenitor of the ISTK). [...] [T]he discourse of [creating the school for tropical medicine] centered around city building and nation building, brick by brick, mark by mark.

---

Just as the exterior condition of the building was, for Schumacher, part of a much larger plan for the city, the program of the building and its interior were part of the German Empire and Tropical Medicine’s much larger interest in controlling the health and wealth of its nation and colonies. [...]

Yet the establishment of the ISTK marked a critical shift in medical thinking [...]. And while the ISTK was not the only institution in Europe to form around the conception and perceived threat of tropical diseases, it was the first to build a facility specifically to support their “exploration and combat” in lockstep, as Nocht described it.

The field of Tropical Medicine had been established in Germany by the very same journal Nocht published his overview of the ISTK. The Archiv für Schiffs- und Tropen-Hygiene unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Pathologie und Therapie was first published in 1897, the same year that the German Empire claimed Kiaochow (northeast China) and about two years after it claimed Southwest Africa (Namibia), Cameroon, Togo, East Africa (Tanzania, Burundi, Rwanda), New Guinea (today the northern part of Papua New Guinea), and the Marshall Islands; two years later, it would also claim the Caroline Islands, Palau, Mariana Islands (today Micronesia), and Samoa (today Western Samoa).

---

The inaugural journal [...] marked a paradigm shift [...]. In his opening letter, the editor stated that the aim of Tropical Medicine is to “provide the white race with a home in the tropics.” [...]

As part of the institute’s agenda to support the expansion of the Empire through teaching and development [...], members of the ISTK contributed to the Deutsches Kolonial Lexikon, a three-volume series completed in 1914 (in the same year as the new ISTK buildings) and published in 1920. The three volumes contained maps of the colonies coded to show the areas that were considered “healthy” for Europeans, along with recommended building guidelines for hospitals in the tropics. [...] "Natives" were given separate facilities [...]. The hospital at the ISTK was similarly divided according to identity. An essentializing belief in “intrinsic factors” determined by skin color, constitutive to Tropical Medicine, materialized in the building’s circulation. Potential patients were assessed in the main building to determine their next destination in the hospital. A room labeled “Farbige” (colored) - visible in both Nocht and Schumacher’s publications - shows that the hospital segregated people of color from whites. [...]

---

Despite belonging to two different disciplines [medicine and architecture], both Nocht and Schumacher’s publications articulate an understanding of health [...] that is linked to concepts of identity separating white upper-class German Europeans from others. [In] Hamburg [...] recent growth of the shipping industry and overt engagement of the German Empire in colonialism brought even more distant global connections to its port. For Schumacher, Hamburg’s presence in a global network meant it needed to strengthen its local identity and economy [by purposefully seeking to showcase "traditional" northern German neo-gothic brickwork while elevating local brick industry] lest it grow too far from its roots. In the case of Tropical Medicine at the ISTK, the “tropics” seemed to act as a foil for the European identity - a constructed category through which the European identity could redescribe itself by exclusion [...].

What it meant to be sick or healthy was taken up by both medicine and architecture - [...] neither in a vacuum.

---

All text above by: Carrie Bly. "Mediums of Medicine: The Institute for Maritime and Tropical Diseases in Hamburg". Sick Architecture series published by e-flux Architecture. November 2020. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Text within brackets added by me for clarity. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[metawatts]

My favourite part of the movie is when they arrive at 'The Docks', and Blake and Weiss comment on how they now understand why Batman is the way he is and why he wanted to get away from Gotham because of how bad it looks. All while their surroundings look as generic and vaguely futuristic as most of RWBY's 'normal' environments. I get that they didn't want to waste budget on making Gotham look like a gothic, depressing cancer of a city; but then maybe don't have characters talk about the environment that clearly isn't there?

No this was so funny/infuriating because the docks of Gotham in this film literally look like downtown Vale just slightly overcast. It reminds me of some of the problems people get when adapting Batman, such as The Dark Knight trilogy basically having Gotham look generally normal, meanwhle the animated series and the recent Battinsom film actually looked like a capitalist ubergoth nightmare neck deep in corruption and lead poisoning built on top of like, a half dozen Miscellaneous Evils with room for sewer cults, a lazarus pit, and probably an emo cthulu somewhere down there. And the worst thing?

Instead we get Blake literally seeing a copy of the city she went to college-school at and going 'oh wow this place is a trashfire'.

And it didn't even look that bad? I mean- it was just your standard warehouse district/docklands, surprisingly underpopulated by workers, but what have you. I guess we can't all grow up in a mansion on a tropical paradise island.

But yeah Blake and her Privileged Bullshittery was unironically the worst part of this movie unquestionably (Yang came in at a close second it's pretty neck and neck). At least Weiss got some sort of cosmic comeuppance for a minute with having to deal with no powers, the most interesting a rwby character's been in yonks. Blake just sucks now.

And another final thing this is the last thing for real: hilarious how they 'don't want to waste budget' but then made models for Joker and Harley, just saying.

[eric-the-bmo]

Yam has gone on,,,, such an adventure,,,, oh boy

With Teal gone for the moment, Yam decided to do something Risky (ha) and head to the Oceanic planet in the current solar system. With his crew he found a building with some Hyoltls, and a terrifyingly-fast,,, wizard thing? Seriously what is that thing

Yam later jumped down into the sea, and eventually decided to see what the bottom looked like- and then ran into some sort of dungeon?! Ohoho, surely this is the next part of the main quest, to fight some Hyoltls just as he did the Florans!

Yam, Kit and Riko all braced themselves for combat, and rushed in- but it was all fine?? Like this was an underwater town??? So they went exploring inside! At one point Yam lost Kit and found him in the disco/bar area. (They also now have enough clues to continue the Main Questline)

Yam also explored the rest of the planet. Guys i'm gonna be real the terrain SUCKED, Kit died yet again, and Riko and Yam found literally the smallest possible island. And titanium.

(As a side note, I'm beginning to think the Frog Business Man at the Ark base only has a few sets that he cycles through? Surely there's more sets that just Cabin, Pastel, Gothic, Planets, and Tropic right??)

Anyway, that last planetary exploration went pretty good, so the trio then went to a Savannah. And tada! Yam ran into an Apex resistance base, and as par for the course whenever he finds any other people around, he stole practically all their stuff.

Most of the rest of the planet was incredibly barren, with not a lot of interesting things.

The key word is "most," though, because towards the end of their journey the trio stumbled upon a very large Floran Village! I was very overjoyed, I love these guys so much!! <3

There was a Floran with no leaves who instantly became one of my favorite little guys. Look at him. He's bald!

There were a lot of beautiful Florans, including these two ladies who look like they're wearing wonderful hats.

The rest of the session was spent running around doing some quests for the Florans, which resulted in buying a weather vale to put on Hatu's roof & giving a Floran guard an incredibly cool skull mask ⭐

[tropical-gothic-island]

[fira54funko]

The Funkos Visit Puerto Rico Pt. III

[thedogofchristmaspast]

the tragic treasury by the gothic archies is such a dsaf coded album. i'm looking at you crows smile! no one cares how you feel freakshow shipwrecked and walking my gargoyle........

like shipwrecked is So davesport i can't think of a single thing i'd rather do than end up shipwrecked on an island with you no there's nobody i wouldn't kill nobody just to have you shipwrecked on a tropical island with me. do you see the vision

if only i had the patience to make loads of animatics...because each one of those songs brings something so Vivid to my head

[flamingo-strikes]

jasmine tea + iced coffee ~ ik we’ve talked about specifically the gothic books we like but im interested in what your otherwise fave book is :}

Jasmine Tea: If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

It’s freezing in Canada rn, so I absolutely would go to a tropical sunny beach with crystal clear water and just bask in the sunlight for sure. Hmm a specific location would probably be French Polynesia or the British Virgin Islands would be cool!!

Iced Coffee : Do you like reading? If so, what’s your favorite book?

I LOVE reading 😭 a little too much tbh, since my bank account is ⬇️ Ahh so I read pretty much every genre!! For classics, I’d go with Wuthering Heights (predictable). For more modern literary fiction, I love All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir, or A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. And for fantasy, my all time rec has to be Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor. They’re all books that deal with darker themes, especially in regards to gender, class, race, and ethics in such a tasteful, beautiful manner.

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 31: WIPs and Ideas I'm Taking Into 2023

As the year is ending, I am considering what writing projects I will try to complete next year. Will 2023 be the year I finish my WIPs? Will it at least be the year I let go of WIPs I don't care about? We'll see.

Here are (most of) my current projects and ideas--T100 only because I don't feel brave enough to even address Star Trek or other fandoms. Let's see where I am at the end of 2023.

devil's gonna get me one of these days: Southern Gothic AU; ensemble and multi-pairing; vampires, ghosts, and secrets

Troped Madness Horror Round: Harper-centric, epistolary/found footage-y

Talk About Timing in Times Like These: Bellarke, Modern AU, exes to lovers, heavy on the bitterness

And They Lived: aka the Ark Sleeping Beauty AU, Bellarke with a lot of other stuff going on

A Watch With No Hands: parts 3 and 4, the continuation of my 2019 Bellarke Big Bang, Grounder Clarke, Arker Bellamy, canon divergence

The Poly Fic: endgame Bravenlarke, modern AU, what it says on the tin

Can't Be King of the World: aka my long (long) percolating Ark AU, ensemble and multi-pairing with a lot of Wells

Sky Village: canon-divergence with rare pairs, independent delinquent village feels

Blake Siblings Summer AU: ...this is a Pete & Pete AU, if I'm brave enough to write it

Slow Summer Vibes: one step up from a PWP, Bellarke in the heat of summer

Under the Western Stars: more Bellarke modern AU angst nonsense

Kiss the Ring: canon-divergent Becho, in which they are both brutal, ruthless leaders

Jonty Dual Timeline: part modern AU, part canon-divergence, heavily S3 inspired

Sequel to How I'll Spend Through Winter: more Bellarke UST and longing, this time in high school, some Princess Mechanic

Bellarke Bingo Love Potion: Bellamy runs an antique store. Clarke takes a love potion. There's magic involved.

Dawson's Creek AU: endgame Bellarke and Murven, and in the meantime, a faithful AU for no reason at all

Documentary History of the U.S.S.S Arkadia: expanded version of my Braven fic of the same name

Reality Bites AU: as it says; Bellarke

Dollhouse AU: also as it says, ensemble/Bellarke, Bellamy as Echo and Clarke as Ballard...sort of

autumnverse fic: eternal-autumn type universe with ghosts!

oh well you've got me under your spell: an old Bellarke HS AU I always wanted to continue

Bellarke Bingo Blast: trope-heavy Bellarke friends to lovers; embarrassing how many modern AUs are on this list

South: Murven road trip that I started ages ago and might continue?

Everyone Gets Married: mostly Jonty with some Bellarke, sappy romance stuff and perhaps some talk about the concept of marriage

Bellarke Beat AU: this is from 2016, enough said

Maya & Octavia Troped: canon-divergence, post S2

Miller/Bryan Troped: canon-divergence, sometime in S3; more a universe than a plot but like an exes thing

Bellarke Invents Soulmates: triple-timeline, reincarnation and soulmates (former Troped round)

Miller/Bellamy Road Trip: but also they're on the run from the law, danger and UST

T100 + 3% Fusion: Princess Mechanic; 3%-like plot but in T100's universe

Fantasy Heist: delinquents on a magical hunt to save one of their own, still working out the kinks on the universe. And the plot (former Troped round)

Kane/Luna Ark AU: exes and magic and hints of political intrigue perhaps; horror

Slasher: half-baked old Troped Horror idea, heavy on the tropes, and I suppose on the bloodshed

Camping Trip Meta Horror: some horror tropes in the woods

Tropical Horror: something about this island isn't right

Troped Horror 2022: the fic I didn't finish because I thought it was going in a bad direction. Only hints: another slasher, Octavia-centric

Party Fic: Indulgent, stylized, multi-pairing HS AU

Modern Band AU: Bellarke and other pairings, rival bands, minor genre/form experimentation

...I didn't specify but some of these are one-shots and some multi-chapters and if a multi-chap isn't started, I can only promise to start, not finish it in 2023