#very somewhat proud of this one

[gallows-n-sht]

THE END IS NEAR!

for the xbox 360 marketplace, of course. i decided to rush this one so that i could post it before the end of our inner children (wow so dramatic). at first it was just a simple kit fisto fanart, like the one i posted of maul, but then i thought about how the xbox 360's marketplace will end tomorrow. so i decided to turn it into a frutiger metro background with two kit fistos merging together. hope y'all like it.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i saw them in the cookbook pages and Immediately thought of this meme:

[morningsaidthemoon]

THE PILLARS OF CREATION, AN ORCHARD

[flustersnaggle]

THE WORLD, FULL OF INFINITE POSSIBILITIES

aurelia aquareine (she/her), sage of alchemy — cheerful // creative // perfectionist

general: face skinblend // facekit 1 // facekit 2 // face highlights (highlight N1) // face undertones // hairline // brows // eye preset // lashes // eye base // eye sparkle // eyeshadow (eyeshadows N9 glitter only) // eyeliner // blush—... hey, where did it go? // mouth corners // teeth // body preset // skinblend (skin N13 overlay) // skin tints // nails // wrist tattoo everyday: hair (my wedding stories) // hat (helia hat V3) // earrings // choker // dress // boots formal: hair (my wedding stories) // earrings // necklace // lipstick // dress (high school years) // arm bracelet (realm of magic) // shoes (base game) athletic: hair (fashima fro) & headwrap overlay // earrings (base game) // top (throwback fit) // shorts (daisy shorts V1) // socks (artemis socks) // shoes (incheon arrivals) sleep: bonnet (V2) // robes (vintage glamour) // shoes (spa day) party: hair (lisa low fro) // earrings (ashley earrings) // necklace (poolside splash) // lipstick // dress (naomi dress) // bracelets // shoes swimwear: hair (pam puff V1) // top (island living) // bottom (base game) // bracelet (base game) // feet hot weather: hair (penny puff V3) // earrings (base game) // top (eco lifestyle) // shorts (realm of magic) // bracelet (base game) // shoes (incheon arrivals) cold weather: hair (lisa low fro) // hat (seasons) // earrings // coat // gloves (get to work) // shoes (get together) extras: poses 1 & potion // poses 2 // poses 3 // realm of magic icons rip

thank you! — @atomiclight, @pyxiidis, @okruee, @ddarkstonee, @serawis, @sayasims, @meghewlett, @obscurus-sims, @miikocc, @pralinesims, @xiamdeathx, @goppolsme, @squea, @magic-bot, @crilender, @ms-marysims, @clumsyalienn, @raccoonium, @philosimy, @mysteriousdane, @crypticsim, @sheabuttyr, @aharris00britney, @ayoshi, @mapleseed, @qwertysims, @arethabee, @sentate, @lady-moriel, @makesims, @dearie-sim, @hula-zombie

[thevoiceofdesertbluffs]

Godless Prophet

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[skitskatdacat63]

Credits to @ayceeofspades, she was the director behind this, I was just the editor.(There's a full version of this, which I shall not be posting on main out of self preservation, but dm if you want to see it bcs I think the full version is truly a masterpiece :] )

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 27

"Long Time Gone" by The Chicks

[mythvoiced]

OPEN STARTER | Patrick Finch

"I condone lying. I encourage it, even. I recommend it. I could hardly live without it."

[gorkaya-trava]

omg I love kaeya SO MUCH MY LITTLE PRECIOUS BOYYYYYYYY

[sayoripoems]

a fuzzy daydream filled her head.

she closed her eyes and went to bed.

a sunny sleepwalk a minute away,

like a summer morning with the darkness at bay.

“i will not cry, i will not plead. will this be everything i need?”

a summer’s end, an evening song.

she hopes her friend will play along.

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 30 / 31 * SUNSET 」

July 31, 1992

❝God, Doc, I'm so nervous. Am I supposed to be this nervous?❞ Marty has been pacing back and forth for the last ten minutes, his anxiety spiking, and none of Emmett's previous attempts thusfar have managed to still his feet or calm the storm brewing over his head.

He understands the nerves, having felt them when he had decided to propose to Clara, fearing he may have been too forward and misreading the entire situation or she would, when presented with the opportunity, turn him down for his age or his appearance or the fact that the life he currently had was nothing glamorous, certainly not for a brilliant woman who had her entire life ahead of her.

Clara had quashed every single one of his own worries the moment they arose.

❝Marty. Marty!❞ Emmett stops him in his tracks with both hands on his shoulders and when Marty finally looks up, clarity returning the sharpness to the blue of his eyes, he looks exactly like his seventeen-year-old self again, far younger than his years. ❝Of course it's natural to be nervous, but try and relax. Take a few deep breaths. I can assure you that everything is on schedule, Jennifer is not going to stand you up, and things will go just fine.❞

Marty throws a look at him that says how can you be so sure? when he's feeling so uncertain about everything, and Emmett is certain he's running through possibilities in his head that are so highly improbable they could never happen in this timeline.

He squeezes his shoulders and when Marty follows his advice and takes a few long, slow breaths, Emmett switches to straightening the tie his worry has knocked askew.

❝You two love each other. There's nothing that's going to change that. Everybody is nervous on their wedding day and before other pivotal moments in their lives. The sun is setting on this chapter of your life as you take the next step forward. But I promise you that once you step out there and you see Jennifer walking down the aisle, you won't feel nervous anymore.❞

❝You're right, Doc, I know you are. It's just; it's really happening. I'm about to marry Jennifer. She's going to be Jennifer McFly. We're gonna spend the rest of our lives together.❞

❝So then what's the problem?❞

Marty shakes his head and fumbles for the words to explain the frenzy stirring in his chest. Emmett is unflappable even in the wake of the torrent of Marty's emotions and Marty doesn't know where he'd be right now without him. ❝I—the rings?❞

❝Safely in the possession of the ring-bearers.❞

❝The music?❞

❝The band is all present and accounted for.❞

❝My family?❞

❝Seated beside Detective Parker.❞

❝The photographers? Jen wanted to make sure we got lots of pictures.❞

❝Marty, you already spoke to them, remember? They had taken photos of us not long ago.❞

He shakes his head. ❝That's right; it feels like it happened yesterday or in a dream or something.❞

Emmett gently guides him over toward the long mirror and places him directly in the centre of it. Marty takes a moment to look them both over, dressed sharply in their well-pressed black suits. His hair is freshly cut and styled and Marty smiles at the way his best friend had gone through the trouble of wrangling his hair into something neat and well-kept rather than the wild mane it often was.

Clara almost certainly had a hand in that, he thinks, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he hopes she can hear his thank you.

❝Doc? Can I, uh, ask you something?❞

Emmett nods, using the mirror to now fuss over his own appearance while he still has the chance. As best man, it was important everything be in place, and the setup and smooth operation of the wedding was far more important than his own personal appearance. Clara reminded him time-and-time again of his tendency to get too-caught up in whatever endeavour has his attention, and she had reminded him before they left to make sure his appearance didn't suffer as he ran about aiding in the day's proceedings.

Now that they have a moment and less than an hour until it all begins, the last thing he wants is to add even the slightest bit more to Marty's plate for him to worry over.

His black suit is still wrinkle-free, his hair has yet to adopt a life of its own and begin to fly every which way, and no matter how hard he looks, he can't find any part of his appearance that needs fixing.

❝I think maybe I'm also afraid that once we get married, everything's gonna change, you know? That things are going to have to be different now that we're husband and wife. I guess what I'm wondering is after you and Clara got married, did things feel all that different between you? Did things change a lot when she became your wife?❞

Emmett hums. ❝There was an adjustment period after the fact when it came to calling her my wife. As you know, I never imagined such a thing for myself. As a scientist, I was already married to science, as it was, and the idea of falling in love, let alone at first sight, was simply nonsense. The stuff of romance novels.❞

Marty actually finds himself able to manage a grin as he thinks back to the memory of seeing the doc wide-eyed and tongue-tied in a way he never imagined possible. ❝No kidding. I've never seen you look the way you looked at Clara before. You had it bad, Doc, right at the start.❞

❝Not unlike the way I've seen you look at Jennifer over the years. In fact, I think I still recall the way you looked when you mentioned her in 1955.❞ Marty's cheeks tinge pink.

❝But even after being officially married, our relationship didn't change. It became a little more proper for us to be together the way we were—as you may or may not know, perceptions were very different back in the nineteenth century, and as Clara was Hill Valley's only schoolteacher, it was necessary for her to maintain a very good image, as she was a role model for the children—but we didn't treat each other any differently.❞

They had already been married in all but name by the time their wedding day came around. All that was left was to make it official, sign the documents, and appease everyone else's old-fashioned sensibilities.

❝By that time, we were already practically living together. I wasn't rich by any means, but we had Clara's home and the stable which I had converted into living quarters, we were both working, and I occasionally assisted with some of the school lessons. She was my confidante, the one person with whom I could share the truth of my existence with, and she had embraced the idea of time-travel and life in the twentieth century so quickly that even I was astounded.❞

Emmett turns away from the mirror to properly look at his friend.

❝So I suppose that was a very long way to say no, nothing changed after the fact. Other than the entire town openly wondering when we would finally start a family of our own.❞

That prompts a groan out of Marty. ❝Guess I'll have to be ready for my parents to start asking when we'll be giving them grandkids. Got another question for you, Doc.❞

Emmett checks one of his wristwatches. ❝Sure; we still have a little time before the ceremony is scheduled to begin and we have to get into position.❞

❝What was your wedding day like? Since I didn't get to see it, I'd really like to know.❞

[itsjustdotsandcrosses]

ID Four drawing of Violet, a dark skinned drow-elf woman with a thin athletic body, light tattoos, and a light braid that reaches her shins.

The first drawing shows her in a leather crop top and high waisted leather bottoms, a knife strapped to her thigh with a leather holster. Her hand lays on her hip while face and lower legs are not shown, and a symbol of a crown is drawn above her.

In the second drawing she is nude except for thick soled knee high leather boots and a strap on with a leather harness. She is tugging on the main holster strap with a calm look on her face, three sparkles are drawn near her face.

In the third drawing she is nude except for a ball gag and what binds her arms. leather straps with buckles bind her biceps and join across her shoulder blades, connected down by another strap to a long leather cuff that holds both her arms behind her back, forearms overlapping. She is shown from behind while kneeling with a concentrating face, a droplet symbol is drawn next to her head.

In the fourth and final drawing Violet wears nothing underneath a chest harness, along with a collar and a belt binding her thighs. The chest harness is strapped around her small breasts in a diamond shape, extending upwards around her neck and down towards her hips and crotch. Her arms are unseen and bound behind her, her legs are bound together above the knee with a belt. Attached to her thick leather collar is a leash that goes up and out of canvas, she has a dreamy drooling expression on her face as 3 hear symbols surround her head. end ID.

Might as well post this here for the archive, thinking about that leather working proficiency.

[princekirijo]

Finally getting round to reading the Scarlet Pimpernel (free eBooks my beloved) and while I am really enjoying the story and everything is pretty easy to follow, the sheer royalist tones the book has is a lot

[john-jonathy-jonathan-the-3rd]

I cant really recall anything too interesting. The reason I began to write in a journal was because I wanted to feel like I was taking notes on my enviroment and being all analytical like Marcy Wu from Amphibia. That quickly got boring so it evolved into a regular journal after a few months.

@call-me-frosting-or-not-idc @chipjam and anyone who wants to join! The doors for entering this chain are so open and numerous they threaten the structural integrity of the roof by outnumbering the actual walls 3:1. Similarly, no pressure if someone I tagged doesnt want to participate!

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.