#wow that was really long i'm so sorry

[moonfromearth]

200 Followers Celebratory CC Free Sim Dump!!

It's honestly so amazing to me that somehow I made it to 200 followers! You're all so sweet and I appreciate everyone that's taken the time to interact with my posts and I promise I have new stuff in the works that'll be released soon 😉

So, I did this poll to see what everyone would want and it was so fun to hear from so many people thank you everyone who voted! Sim dump was the clear winner!!

Anyway, included are eight cc free young adult sims! They all have set skills and careers because I think it's fun but you can do whatever you want with them as long as you don't change skintones (bonus information about each below the cut as a "guide" because I like coming up with their characters)! I also had too much fun picking out likes and dislikes so... There are a lot 😬

P.S. If in the library it shows up as having cc I swear there isn't any I don't know why my game likes to mark it as having cc even when there isn't I'm sorry for any confusion.

Feel free to tag me if you ever use them and I hope you enjoy!! 😁😁

Download Link [Google Drive]

[Sim info below cut!!]

Parker Daley - Friend of the World, Erratic, Creative, Vegetarian - Bubbly and eccentric Parker is the life of any party! A fashion designer who loves anything "stylish" (which is just anything she likes, pretty much). Parker is completely unpredictable which makes her an interesting companion. A city girl all the way.

Lilah Dumas - Computer Whiz, Cheerful, Geek, Lazy Lilah is a very "you only live once" kind of person. She doesn't spend too much time dwelling on just about anything, and will drop whatever doesn't bring her joy in a heartbeat. As such she was determined to make one of her hobbies into a career, and amassed a decent following for herself as a streamer.

Raj Pandey - Fabulously Wealthy, Perfectionist, Mean, Self-Assured Raj grew up always knowing he'd join the family business, and the atmosphere of wealth and status, as well as the most expensive education obtainable, has turned him into a stuck up character. He appreciates a well crafted insult. In fact, he's not averse to the occasional argument debate (as long as he wins). Despite these traits he's managed to get himself adopted into a group of friends who, though often annoy him, have become an important part of his life.

Sonny Oswald - Friend of the Animals, Socially Awkward, Animal Enthusiast, Neat Sonny is a sweetheart and I love him. Awkward and shy, he's more comfortable around farm animals and plants than he is around people. Only is closest friends get to see how kind and fun he can be. One day he'll move out to the countryside and start is own farm, but for now he's working his way through the gardening career (baby steps, right?).

Lucas Esparza - Nerd Brain, Noncommittal, Bookworm, Adventurous Lucas's two goals in life are to gain infinite amounts of knowledge for himself and leave a trail of broken hearts as he travels the world to get said knowledge. That makes it sound like he's a horrible person which is because... Well he is, but who doesn't need a villain in their game? I'm sure he has his good qualities, however, I honestly love him for being the absolute handful he is.

Keira McDaniel - Painter Extraordinaire, Gloomy, Maker, Music Lover A bit of a "tortured artist" character who enjoys spending hours painting/crafting in her studio with music playing constantly, blocking out the rest of the world. Keira is very sensitive, and feels the emotional weight of everything around her very intensely, channeling it into her art.

Joslyn Lancaster - Country Caretaker, Loves the Outdoors, Athletic, Glutton Joslyn is a very meat and potatoes kind of gal. She lives for the simple things in life, working the ranch, riding horses, and a good meal. It's never occurred to her that there might be more to life, and the world, outside of the ranch, because what more could she need?

Gabrielle "Gabby" Moran - Leader of the Pack, Insider, Snob, Cat Lover Gabby is a fine and polished young woman, growing up in a life of luxury, and the champion English rider in town. She's very aware that she is the best at something, and it's boosted her confidence (*cough* ego) to astronomic levels. Quite the gossip, she loves to be out with friends, gossiping about the latest scandal, but when not there she's tending to her horse and preparing for her next competition. Despite the facade of the popular mean girl she puts up, Gabby cares very deeply about horses and her career, and takes it very seriously. She also loves spending time with the barn cats when they're around.

[sciderman]

I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain

Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it

i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)

really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!

undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.

i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.

people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.

peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.

it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."

so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.

people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.

autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just popping in to say i LOVE UR ART SO MUCH WAUGH!!!! Its soooooooo exoressive and u get across emotion and movement SO WELL!! I love ...littlr apple ...so much.....u imbue this donkey with Such Chaos

I love this little chaos creature, we should all forfeit our mortal possessions to her.

[skyyguy]

grabbing their hair to make them bare their throat to you for wings possibly

On AO3 here Prompt Gale's been recaptured by Martin, who's not happy his pet escaped him. Hurt, absolutely no comfort (yet). Set before the other Wings whump I have.

He wasn’t surprised, not really. He knew John couldn’t keep him safe. Hoped? Yeah, he’d hoped. But that was the thing about hope, Gale thought, it was blind, based off nothing but some nice words and a smile. He knew better. He did. And yet… He’d fallen for it. Fallen for John. Fallen for the hope he offered, the safety of his words, the warmth of his hands. And look where it’d gotten him.

“Nice try, Bluebird,” Martin’s voice, cruel and cold, amused, and Gale flinched away from it, “thought you could fly the roost, huh? Well, guess we’re gonna have to do something about that delusion,” Martin continued, Gale shrinking in on himself, his bound wings trembling, “someone took good care of you, at least, huh, pet?” he said, and though it was phrased as a question, Gale knew better than to answer. Even if he could answer. He had been drugged, bound and gagged, a blindfold tied too tight around his eyes, before being thrown in the back of a truck. Gale flinched when he felt a hot, large hand land on his wings— his newly grown, healthy feathers— and bit down hard into his gag. Martin made an unimpressed noise as he stroked the feathers and Gale curled tighter in on himself, bracing himself.

“Gotta clip these pretty wings, huh?” Martin asked nobody in particular, grabbing a handful of the brilliant blue feathers and ripping them out of Gale’s sensitive wing. The gag helped muffle the scream, but Martin still heard, a wicked grin splitting his face as he held the handful of sapphire up, as if trying to get a better look at them. Gale sobbed around the ball of fabric and rope in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut under the blindfold. He refused to think about John, refused to send out a silent plea for the human to find him. He wouldn’t. That would just welcome hope in, and he couldn’t handle more of that. Couldn’t handle more false words, broken promises, deceitfully soft touches. Because at the end of the day, Martin was right. Gale was a pet. Something to be owned. Contained. Used.

“Get him out of here,” Martin barked at someone, ignoring Gale’s whimpers and sobs, the way the gag felt like it was choking him, his whole body trembling in terror and pain. Three sets of hands grabbed at him and he tried to scream, tried to thrash and struggle, but Martin grabbed another handful of his carefully regrown and kept feathers and Gale stilled, chest heaving.

“You’re gonna wanna be a good lil’ pet for me right now, bluebird,” Martin whispered into Gale’s ear and Gale was no stranger to the dangerous, knife-sharp tone. He tried to nod, to show he understood, and relief flooded him when Martin released his terrible hold on his wing. The sets of hands returned, grabbing at him and hauling his body— still and pliant, the only movement, his ribs expanding and contracting with his harsh, panicked breaths— away. He was almost relieved when he was dropped onto something dangerously soft, but then he felt it move, rolling under him, and he sobbed again. The three men moving him were muttering to each other, laughing and joking, but Gale’s ears were ringing too loud for him to understand anything they said. He didn’t know where he was being taken and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The cart he was on stopped suddenly and Gale’s body jolted, still bound tightly with his arms and ankles behind his back, tucked under his equally tightly bound wings. One of the men said something, the others both making noises in response, and then Gale was being lifted as if he weighed nothing. Which, he supposed, had to be true, John had constantly been trying to get him to put on weight— no, Gale jerked his wrist in the ropes, feeling the burn on the open sores, making himself refocus, no, he wouldn’t think about John. He couldn’t think about John. He was already chipped, cracks spreading, but thinking about John? That would splinter him. Martin would enjoy that far too much.

“I dunno, man, maybe just the legs?” The words punched through the fog in his brain as he was dropped, carelessly, onto the ground. Gale felt the concrete scrape along his clothed belly and ribs, felt his bones protest the fall, felt the cracks in his just-recently-healed ribs.

“It can’t do much with its wings and arms bound, I think the legs’ll be fine,” another one said. Gale cringed and whimpered, the stark reminder that Martin and all his men viewed him as an object, as property, in the man’s words.

“Shut it,” that was the first one again, his steel-toed boot connecting painfully with Gale’s hip. Gale bit down on the gag, stifling the yelp that would have gotten him in more trouble.

“Ya, free its legs,” the third piped up after a moment, the sound of a knife being freed from a sheath following his words. Gale tried to hold still when a knee landed on his side, digging in painfully, a hand grabbing the rope holding his ankles to his hands. When it gave to the sharp blade, his legs instantly swinging to sit straight, knees and feet smacking into the hard, cold, unforgiving concrete, Gale wanted to sob. As much as it hurt to whack his legs on the floor, the instant rush of blood returning to his limbs felt infinitely better. The knee in his side shifted, the owner sitting heavy on his legs, and the knife sawing at the rope wrapped multiple times around his lower legs, binding them together. When it gave, Gale turned his face into the floor, stifling his relieved groan— though it morphed into a barely surprised yelp of pain when the knife sliced into his leg.

“Oops,” the second voice said, though he didn’t sound upset or apologetic at all. And then the weight was off his legs, a knife returned to it’s home, and the three steps of footsteps started to retreat. Gale tuned them out the moment he knew they were leaving, waiting till the door slammed shut, lock clicking, before he dared to move. The concrete had leeched what little body heat he’d had before, and he shivered as he struggled into a seated position. For the moment, they’d left his clothes— though he was sure Martin would come for those— and Gale was grateful for the small amount of warmth the thin shirt and threadbare jeans provided. He shifted himself backwards until he felt the wall against his sore wings, letting himself lean against it. His ribs hurt, his jaw hurt, his eyes hurt, and his knees and feet and ankles were starting to hurt. He could feel blood along his inner calf, the cut the man had given him after freeing his legs, as if to remind Gale he was property.

As if Gale didn’t remember well enough already.

He leaned his head back against the wall, wishing that they’d at least removed his gag, teeth clenching the soggy fabric to keep it from slipping too far back in his mouth. But, he supposed, he was being punished. It wouldn’t be a punishment if he weren’t miserable, would it? The fact they’d undone his legs was already a small blessing. So, Gale sat there, jaw clenched, leaning against the wall, clearing his mind of anything, retreating into the small place within himself that he’d hoped to never go to again.

Hope.

There is was again.

He’d thought he’d rid himself of it years ago, then John had come crashing in— literally, although it was Curt who crashed through the door, the sentiment still stood, in Gale’s mind, anyways— and reignited that spark. It had roared too big, too fast, too hot, while he’d been with John. Now he was getting burnt and he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

His shoulders were aching, his arms long since gone numb, and Gale let himself fall sideways, letting his shoulder take the impact, feeling the joint scrape against itself before popping out of the socket. A dislocated shoulder, while maybe painful, was the least of his concerns. Gale knew Martin had much, much worse in mind. How many times had he spouted colourful threats when Gale hadn’t even been thinking about escape? Well, now he hadn’t just thought about it, he had done it, but he’d only made Martin mad, only given him a reason to carry out all those horrible things. Martin would. Happily. Gale had no doubt. John had promised. He’d promised and assured and reassured Gale. Martin would never find him, never catch him, never torture him.

It had been a lie.

The driver had said something about having to pay someone, the person who’d turned Gale in, how someone had tried to skim something off the top but been caught. How whoever had called him had had the sense to count their payment and how he’d had nearly gotten a bullet for their hard work, all because the other had tried to steal. How he’d actually been stealing from Martin. How he was going to report his partner for that.

It had been around that point that Gale finally realized he wasn’t alone in the back of that van. That there was someone else, though he didn’t sound tied up. He sounded like he’d had the shit beat out of him to the point he couldn’t move, and therefore wasn’t worth wasting rope on.

That must be where Martin was, then, Gale thought, trying to distract himself from the focal point of the memory. If he thought about the other man sent to retrieve him, and the punishment he must be receiving, Gale didn’t have to think about how he was sold out, how someone had told Martin where to find him in exchange for a good chunk of change. Gale didn’t know how much the information sold for, but he knew Martin, and he knew how obsessed Martin was with him. It didn’t go cheap.

Gale shook his head, trying to refocus on the thief, wondering how Martin would punish him. If Martin would kill him in the end. Maybe that would get enough of Martin’s rage out that by the time he came to Gale, he’d be even the slightest bit merciful. Maybe Martin would drag the would-be thief's punishment out so long he’d wear himself out, wear his anger down to a dull arrowhead, only capable of bruising his ribs, not puncturing through his body, dragging blood and organ with it.

That… felt unlikely. Gale knew he was, and would remain, the main focus of Martin’s anger. After all, he wouldn’t have had to get his men to go pay a man for information about Gale if Gale hadn’t run away in the first place. No, this was, at its core, Gale’s fault.

And Gale knew would pay Martin back.

Maybe not in money, but definitely in blood.

Gale turned his head into the concrete, a muffled sob forcing its way out of the gag, as he curled in on himself, knees to his chest, despite the ache that set off through his hips. He was used to going to sleep in pain, though it had been a few months since he’d had to. The skill didn’t seem to have left him, though, Gale thought thankfully, as he felt sleep pull at his consciousness. He let it take him.

Ever attuned to his surroundings, Gale burst awake out of a deep sleep when he heard the clicking of a lock, the creaking of a door. He forced himself to sit up— though it was hard, his ribs ached and his bound hands were useless— and leaned against the wall, drawing his legs to his chest to make himself look small. He didn’t know who was there, only that someone was.

“Have a nice nap, bluebird?” Martin asked, voice deceptively soft. Gale barely kept from flinching. “Ya. Ya, you did, didn’t you?” Martin continued, uncaring about the lack of response from his captive prize, “I had other matters to attend, bluebird, but I’m here now. Do you know why I’m here now?” Martin asked and Gale heard his footsteps halt in front of him, could smell him as he bent over, his hot, acrid breath brushing along Gale’s face. He tried not to react, but he flinched, shoulders pulling up to his ears.

“Boss,” a new voice said from the doorway and Gale heard the clicking of a cart being pushed along the hall, stopping and then starting again, clanging as it went through the door frame. Gale stiffened at the sound. He knew that cart. Knew it alarmingly well.

“Leave it and go,” Martin barked, straightening, likely to look at all his toys and tools. Gale took a deep, shuddering breath, even if the gag made it hard. He was grateful for the breathe a moment later when Martin’s hand grabbed his dislocated shoulder, jerking him to his feet, uncaring for the cry of pain the harsh grip forced out of him. He heard the distinct swish of a knife being unsheathed and he clenched his jaw, unsure what Martin planned for him.

The cold metal bit into his cheek, inches from the edge of his mouth, dragging up, parallel to the curve of his jaw, and Gale sucked in air through his nose, biting down hard on the gag, his hands twitching and twisting uselessly in their bindings behind his back. His wings strained at the chains holding them to his body and he knew there were tears in his eyes once again— he’d thought he’d run out— when the knife finally eased out of his skin, tracing along his oh-too-prominent cheekbone, before slicing the blindfold off. It fell away and Gale screwed his eyes shut against the sudden, blinding light. Martin just laughed, a humourless, harsh noise that set shivers down Gale’s spine.

“Well, lemme see those pretty blues,” Martin growled, inches from Gale’s face, his foul breath nearly making Gale gag. Martin’s hand came up to grab Gale’s face, thumb pressing on the fresh cut, and Gale cried out in pain, making Martin laugh again. He reluctantly opened his eyes, knowing that’s what the man wanted, his vision swimming dangerously before Martin’s leering face came into focus.

“I see your escapade didn’t entirely erode your manners,” he hissed. Gale kept his gaze locked on Martin. It was one of his rules, and Gale knew he was in enough trouble already without breaking any more. The older human stepped back, bringing the blade up in a flash, cutting through the rope holding the gag in place and slicing into Gale’s other cheek. This time, when Gale gasped, the gag fell free from his mouth, making an obscene noise when it landed, wet and heavy. Martin smirked, expression flashing angrily, and Gale knew that the other punishment he’d carried out had only wet his thirst for blood.

Gale dropped his chin, breaking eye contact, when Martin raised the knife to his lips, lapping at Gale’s blood on the blade.

“No, no, none of that now, pet,” he snarled, grabbing a handful of Gale’s hair and jerking his head back, making Gale look towards the ceiling, his back arching painfully, throat bared to Martin’s brutality and whims, “you know what I should do to you?” it was a rhetorical question, Gale swallowed thickly, feeling the prick of a blade along his throat, and he tried to look at Martin, though with his head pulled back as it was, that was hard. Biting the inside of his cheek, Gale tried to keep his breathing steady, feeling the slightest increase in pressure, instinct screaming at him to fight back. But he couldn’t. He’d be shot dead before he even landed a blow, if Martin didn’t slice his throat first.

And just like that, the knife was gone and Martin leaned forward, pressing his lips to Gale’s throat, to his jaw, to his lips, and Gale could taste his own blood on them.

“You belong to me.”

[koffeebiscuits]

World's Greatest Grandma 🏆

-

[quetzalpapalotl]

So this is how Disco Elysium has been going, I am no longer quitting my job every time something bad happens, but I only have 2 points in both health and morale and brother says that's too low but I think it's fine since I can just chug medicine. Which is very cheap. Unlike speed. I would unstoppable if I had the funds to be on speed 24/7.

Anyway, I love Kim and nothing matters to me as much as gaining his love, or at leats his approval. Unfortunately, I keep doing stuff just because I can, so I end up doing things like exhorting money off a guy which Kim didn't like. I'm so sorry, Kim. I also keep getting morale damage because every time inland empire tells warns me against doing something that will remind me of my ex-wife, I do it anyway. So maybe I should restrain myself.

I barely understand the game's mechanics and keep messing up, but that's all well and good because it makes me connect with Harry. I like to introject characters when playing games.

Encyclopedia is my best friend, to no one's surprise.

[hsslilly-blog]

for the parenting ask: 3 and A

thank you!! ask list here.

3. Who does the baby follow around more?

Both Grace and Fee follow Hunt around more because he's just cursed like that. Grace is usually around him since the other two members of the household are too chatty for her liking. She much prefers reading her books while her dad writes. Fee is always following him around because Claire tells them to go bother him, to which they happily comply. They have a plot against him.

A. Who do they think their child takes after? In what ways do they remind them of each other?

Grace takes after Hunt. A lot. This is funny because once Grace was born and looked just like her, Claire was terrified she was going to be like her too. Thankfully that didn't happen, and Claire thinks Grace is just as annoying as her father. Why is Grace left handed? (Hunt taught her how to write). She's sooooo stuck in her ways. Why does she always speak like she's giving a lecture? (no parenthesis for this one). Claire thinks she's a very sweet girl, though, and as much as she cannot understand the whole "liking being in silence" thing, she finds it cute Grace shares it with Hunt. As for him, Grace is quite cheery and whenever she smiles like this -> 😁😁 Hunt is reminded of Claire. He has tried to but he cannot make Grace stop using "totally" and "gnarly". Some things are just like that.

Hunt thinks Fee takes after Claire for their general personality/behaviour and I don't think he's entirely incorrect, but Fee has a calmness of spirit to them that Claire does not have. Yes, they're always up to something, but this guy is just going through life. Since both their parents are too neurotic, I don't think Fee inherited this from either of them lmao. I think Fee's practical nature (they're a doer) reminds Claire a lot of Hunt. Fee's keenness to always try new things and... fleetness of thoughts reminds Hunt of Claire.

Oooh. I've said it before, but Grace is the one who gets interested in her parents' careers and she goes into filmmaking because of her father. This is cute, I guess. Fee has the whole Pokemon thing they got from Claire and now they terrorise everyone with it.

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

I woke up and shed the happiest tears of my life. I'm so glad I posted that guitar cover, people were overwhelmingly supportive. And I feel like, even people who don't know about Acchan, they thought about him yesterday, that makes my heart so warm wtf 😭😭😭😭

[shadowglens]

isa has such a complicated relationship with her childhood and trauma. she'll downplay it at most opportunities, or simply lie to avoid a conversation she doesn't want to have. before the events of bg3, only one person outside of her immediate family knows of her past, and esra is isadora's most trusted confidant. no one in the party discovers even an inkling of her past until act 3.

she isn't an orphan, wasn't horribly abused, didn't have something equally as terrible happen to her as a young child, and when most people she meets have had something truly horrible happen to them, it seems small of her to complain. her parents weren't cruel and provided her a fairly well-off upbringing with a governess to boot. still, when she came of age, she didn't hesitate to flee neverwinter and never return.

her human parents, particularly her mother, were mortified when isa was born with her pink toned skin and stubby horns and the inkling of a tail. her mother outright refused to try for more children for the fear of birthing any more tieflings, and grieved the large family she had always wanted for years when isa was young. her father loved her as much as he could in his stilted way, but he also never brought her into the family's merchant business despite her begging.

isa wasn't locked away, per se, but she had known from a very young age that she'd brought shame to her family, that she was unwanted. she was fed, and educated, and given any and all lessons she wanted, but she had few friends and suffered more scalding from her governess than she did affection from her parents. it was a lonely, guilded cage of a childhood.

[mar64ds]

i am no woman or man i'm just a cartoon rabbit, i promise

[linabirb]

me: god i feel so horrible i hope i'll be able to sit through classes today

our prof: hi anyway we have to watch this movie about this athlete who is disabled and you will hear stuff like "SEE?? YOU CAN DO ANYTHING IF YOU JUST FOCUS ON YOUR GOALS" and "YOU CAN DO IT EVEN IF YOU'RE LITERALLY GONNA DIE SOON YOU JUST GOTTA BE STRONG ENOUGH MENTALLY" throughout the whole movie :)

me:

[ferromagnetiic]

♡ + the victoria punk :)

【 ⚙ 】  |  【 always accepting. 】 @akagamiko

                                        So you woke up and chose violence today, huh?

                  The island on which Kid was born and raised was not an officially recognized island by the World Government; rather, it was an island of trash, a junkyard, on which people began to settle once they realized there was money to be made in finding discarded valuables. The sea surrounding this island was treacherous; sailing through vicious storms was almost unavoidable, and the savage waters were unkind to even the sturdiest of ships. It was hardly a tourist attraction, and travel to and from the island was mainly restricted to the ships delivering regular deposits of junk. Occasionally goods for the people were imported, and anything valuable either found or crafted on the island was exported, but due to the difficulties involved in actually reaching the port, few sailors saw the merit in enduring the journey.

                          With no concern for being attacked by passing sailors, Sea Kings began to take residence directly outside the coast of the island. Amongst these water beasts was Morag; an ancient, reptilian-looking ocean dweller with a long neck that would curve under the water's surface like the body of a snake. Her head alone was the size of most decently sized vessels that would venture towards the port, and she found no challenge in biting a ship in half with a single snap of her jaws. She was an old girl; perhaps some two-hundred years, and as grouchy as any old woman who did not want vermin invading her property. She did not take kindly to intruders approaching her land, though she was equally bad tempered towards those attempting to leave it, almost as if she felt she had some possession over the people living in her domain. She would lurk in the darkest shadows of the sea and strike from below, her long neck rigid as an arrow as she lunged directly towards any moving vessel.

              When Kid and his newly established pirate crew were preparing to set sail, he decreed that her demise would be their first endeavor. Avoiding her entirely like a mouse sneaking out of its hole was not his style. He had grown sick of the inconvenience of that old hag. He was energized by the fury resulting from the murder of his childhood friend, Victoria, and his outrage could only be settled by a legendary victory.

               It was during this battle that the first evidence of his Conqueror's Haki was recorded by his men.                He was pissed off.                                              He was really pissed off.                She attempted to strike, and inexplicably, she lost her nerve.                                              She missed.                Instead of hitting the hull of the ship, she inadvertently jumped out of the water and into his line of sight.                From Kid's perspective, the rest was a blur, acting on impulse without ever second guessing his following actions. He saw her rearing her great ugly mug, and suddenly, two humongous metal hands were floating in the air, without arms, without a body.                                               He yanked her out of the water, and he ripped her head off.

        They used her skull to reinforce the front of the Victoria Punk, and some of her ribs to protect the hull. Some of her smaller bones are scattered through the ship, mostly used for reinforcement as pillars, though some are purely decorative. You'll find little pieces of her placed here and there if you know where to look.

         It was the first win the Kid Pirates had landed; it only felt right to carry her on the ship as a warning of what was to come to anyone who dared to oppose them.

                                      ....As a side note, they ate the edible parts of Morag for several weeks after that.                           She was disgusting.                           Dry, tough, and flavorless. They made her into burgers and drowned them in tomato sauce, salt, and oil just to get her to stop tasting like cardboard.                           Her skull made an amazing figurehead, but she kind of killed the celebration party by producing food that tasted like utter shit.

[mashmouths]

really not seeing a downside to tipsy cooking, it just makes the time pass faster and the food taste better <3 peace and love <3

[blue-supercow]

I feel like my gender is just on the "system default" option

Like i don't have a preference and just do what is easiest

[arttsuka]

Hi! I saw your post about a platonic date. It's probably too parasocial of me, but I'd like to take you on a platonic date!!

I think we are in different countries so a lot of stuff is probably different but hmmm.... Id probably start by having us go to a cafe? You seem like you'd enjoy a really small quiet cafe. I used to have one down the street and every dish they used was like a unique vintage one, it was so cute! And they had good pastries.

Then if the weather is nice, maybe we go on a picnic in the park? And bring our sketchbooks and doodle? We could have premade some sandwiches. Maybe we went to the store and bought some fancy stuff to put on the sandwich you wouldn't normally buy. Like caviar or something crazy lol. Or maybe we just do the classic cute fruit and whipped cream sammies that you see on Pinterest. Lol that's probably a lil silly. Idk lol the vibe would just be to celebrate being alive and being friends. So we're just trying to keep it low-key and do something fun.

If the weather was bad (it's rainy as hell here), I guess we'd just spend the time indoors? It would be fun I think to maybe do something silly like make a pillowfort and watch TV. You could show me squid games season 2 and talk about toxic yaoi lol or maybe I'd have you watch some of my fav Star Trek next gen episodes to see if you like them as much as the OG series.

Id probably leave you with a gift of chocolate and tea bc everyone needs that and then go home I guess lol.

Idk that's all probably v silly. I hope it came across as cute and not weird???? Idk I like taking people on platonic dates is a lot of fun and I really like your blog and we've chatted a few times in the replies and rhisjridjshdje I know this is super parasocial of me, but idk I hope it made you smile a little?

Idk just know if I knew you irl we'd be friend and idk how weird and awkward u are bc I'm weird and awkward too lol.

Anyway, happy Valentine's Day and I hope you have a good day!

Giggling and kicking my feet this is so cute

Sure let's roleplay a platonic date :)

We're definitely in different countries but that's ok, internet magic. You can talk to people across the world (mind blowing if you really think about it)

We don't really have a working park here where you can sit with blankets for a picnic etc but we do have a harbor so we could drink something by the sea. We could also sit in a bench to watch the sea (not a lot of options here, just sea). We could still have sandwiches

Real image from pinterest that I found on Google of these aesthetic sandwiches

God I'd hate them so much I can't stand fluffy whipped cream textures but I want to try them :////

And after we spend all our outdoors time by the sea because there is nothing else worth doing here, we could go to my house and I'd show you my yugioh card collection, my coin (euro coins tho) collection and my pin collection (I love collecting stuff).

We could watch tv and I'd trick you into watching strangers from hell (real dialogue btw this happens)

I hope you have not very short hair because I will massage your scalp/playing with your hair and I don't like short hair (I do the thing with the nails. People like it when I do that and it's the only way I usually contribute when I'm with others. Kinda sad ngl they don't want to include me in the conversation)

Yes I have photos for everything

If I have time I'd bake you cookies 🍪 as a gift and I'd give you a little drawing (little as in, regular sized but all my drawings are 'little' so yeah)

Anyway, the whole thing is silly but in a fun, whimsical and kind-hearted way. Happy valentines 💝

[lovvecherrymotion]

In regards to the ask game: 🤓

I followed you because I was so excited to find somebody else who also likes joker out and kpop 😭😭

And while we are on that topic... Who is the most nugu (obscure) group you stan... I'm nosy hehhehehe 😽

there's maybe five of us and i love us all honestly only hot (and very mentally ill) people like both kpop and joker out <3

as for the most nugu group i stan... this is actually a very hard question. i've been into kpop for like 15 years now and back then if a group released a single song i'd probably stan. that being said, considering the groups i still listen to nowadays, both old and new, i'd probably say nine muses (and i don't think they're that nugu). i know they're not an active group anymore, but i think their discography aged so well and they're still not popular enough (i was in the trenches stanning namyu, rainbow and dal shabet back in the day 💔). also i feel like i should add bestie, fiestar and spica and stellar bc omfg I WAS THERE

if i can add some k-indie, donna's song, will you miss me has made it to my most played songs of the year every single year since she released it so i'll take my chance to promote it. it's amazing, seriously

reblog if you want one of these in your askbox