#and maybe try volunteering at a soup kitchen!' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beatrice-otter · 29 days

Note

I’ll be honest, when one party’s aiding and abetting the genocide and the other’s outright gonna kill all my friends, I don’t really care if the fascists “win”. They’ve won already.

You know who would be delighted to hear that? Trump and Putin. The US far right and the Russian government have poured lots of time, effort, and money over the last decade+ into convincing US leftists and liberals that things are hopeless, there's no point in even trying to make things better, and the Democrats and Republicans are functionally interchangeable. They do this because one of the easiest ways for them to win is if the left gives up and stops trying. Every person on the left they can convince to give up in despair brings them closer to complete control. Defeatism on the left actively supports victory on the right.

I think your statement is wrong on a number of levels, both factual and emotional. It comes from not understanding what the actual options are for the US government and the President specifically, either at home or abroad. And it will allow actual fascism to flourish and make the world far worse than it is now.

On an emotional level, the way to address this is to stop doomscrolling. Stop focusing on the worst things happening in the world. Don't ignore them! but don't let them consume you. Start looking for the things that are going well. Find places in your community that you can get involved in making things better. Even if it's only on a small scale like volunteering in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, it will help you realize that you aren't helpless, that there are things that can be done to make the world a better place. Stay informed about things on a local, national, and international level, but limit how much time and attention you give to things that depress you that you can't affect. Instead of sitting there thinking about all the ways the world sucks and how awful things are, look for things you can do that are productive, and then do them. You'll feel better and you will have made your corner of the world a little better. And you will be a lot less likely to unintentionally fall into the despair, nihilism, and passivity that the fascists want you to be consumed by.

Always remember that the worlds problems are not resting solely on your shoulders, or solely on America's shoulders, and neither is the hope of fixing them. Everyone has things that we can do to make the world a better place, but there are also things that are beyond our control. We can control what we do; we cannot control what others do. We can and should try to make the world a better place, but focusing on the things we can't change has no positive benefits. Focusing on things we can't change accomplishes two things: it makes you feel bad, and it stops you from doing the things you actually can do to make things better. Neither of these things is good for you or anyone else. Look for things you can do and do them. Keep informed on the things you can't change, but don't focus on them.

On a factual level, let's look at "aiding and abetting genocide," shall we?

First, it's important to remember that the US President is not the God-Emperor Of The World. The US government has limits to what it can and can't do in other countries, and both legally and practically. If the US wants to intervene in a problem in another country, there are a variety of things we can do that boil down to basically four categories. It's a lot more complex than this in practice, of course, but in general here are the categories of things we can do:

Send in the troops. Invade, either by ourselves or as part of a NATO or UN operation. (Or maybe just send in a CIA wetworks team to assassinate the head of state.) I hope you can see the moral problems with this option, and also, we've done this a shitton of times over the course of the 20th Century and pretty much every time we've done it, we've made an already awful situation worse. On a moral level, it's pretty bad, and on a practical level, it's worse. Sure, we could stop the immediate problem, but what then? Consider Afghanistan and Iraq. We got rid of Saddam Hussein and the Taliban, and everything went to shit, we spent twenty years occupying Afghanistan with pretty much nothing to show for it. (The Taliban is back in control of Afghanistan.) Things were worse when we left than when we arrived. So this option is pretty much off the table (or should be).

Diplomatic pressure. Now, the thing is, they're a sovereign nation, they don't have to listen to us if they don't want to. We have a lot of things we can leverage--including financial aid--but the only way to force them to do what we want is to invade and conquer, and that only works temporarily. Since we can't force, we have to persuade. This requires us to maintain our existing relationship with the country in question, and possibly strengthen it, because that relationship is what we're leveraging to try and influence them to do what we want them to do. If we do not maintain our relationship, they have no reason to listen to us.

Cut ties and go home. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things and we wash our hands of the whole situation. This keeps our own hands lily-white and pure, but it also means we have zero leverage to work on any kind of a diplomatic solution. They have no reason to listen to us or care about what we think. We can pat ourselves on the back for doing the right thing, but we destroy our own ability to influence anything. Not just now, but also in the future. Let's say the current crisis ends, and then ten years later there's another crisis. If we want to have any effect then, we would have to start from square one to start building a relationship. Cutting ties would be great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, and there are times when it's the only option, but it should be a last resort. If there is any hope of being able to influence things for the better this will destroy it at least temporarily.

Cut ties and impose sanctions. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things, but also use the might of the American economy to isolate and punish them. We've done this a lot over the 20th Century, too, and it has never actually resulted in the country in question buckling down and toeing the line we want them to. What happens is the sanctioned country has an economic shock (how long it lasts and how bad it gets depends on a lot of factors) and then pulls themselves back together economically, except this time they're more self-sufficient and less reliant on international trade and financial networks. They tell themselves that America is evil and the cause of all their problems, and so not only do they not listen to us, they actively hate us. And they have fewer international relationships, so fewer reasons to care about what the international community thinks about them. So they're most likely to double down on whatever it is they're doing that we don't like. This one is completely counterproductive and utterly stupid. It's great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, but if we actually care about being able to use our influence for good (or, at least, to mitigate evil) this option shoots us in the foot. It encourages other nations to do the very thing we're trying to stop them from doing.

So, with those four options in mind, both option one (invasion/assassination) and option four (sanctions) are off the table for being immoral and counterproductive. That leaves "breaking our relationship and going home" and "using diplomatic pressure" as our only two viable options.

Biden has chosen option two, diplomatic pressure. Yes, he and our government have continued financial support for Israel ... but with strings attached. They have put limits on it that have never been put on any US foreign aid before. They have taken legal steps to lay the groundwork to target Israeli settlers (i.e. Israeli citizens who confiscate Palestinian homes and businesses). We've been hearing reports for months that Benjamin Netanyahu (Israeli Prime Minister, and a far-right-wing demagogue) hates Biden's guts, because Biden is pressuring him to stop the genocide and work towards peace. Biden is maintaining the relationship, and he's using that relationship to try and influence things to curb the violence and pave the way for a just peace settlement of some sort. Biden has also mentioned the possibility of a two state solution where Palestine becomes its own completely separate country. That's huge, because up until this point the US position has always been that Israel is the only possible legitimate nation in that territory. If Biden stopped US support for Israel, it wouldn't force Israel to stop what it's doing ... but it would let them ignore us. It would remove any leverage or influence we might have.

Biden's hands aren't clean. But the only way for them to be clean would be to also give up any chance of influencing the situation or working to protect Palestinians now or in the future. Only time will tell if it works, but I personally would rather have someone who tried and failed than someone who didn't even try. You might disagree about whether this is the right course of action, and there's a lot of room for honest disagreement about the issue (there's a lot of nuances that I'm glossing over or ignoring). But please do acknowledge that Biden isn't supporting Israel because he supports genocide; he's doing it so that he can continue to maintain diplomatic pressure on Israel to stop the violence.

Which brings us back to "aiding and abetting genocide." Trump is not like Biden. Trump is good friends with Netanyahu and backs Israel to the hilt. Trump thinks that all Arabs are terrorists (and all Muslims are terrorists) and genuinely believes the world would be a better place with them dead. Biden is continuing to support Israel, but using that support as influence to get them to stop or slow down. Trump would be using that influence to encourage them.

And those are the two choices. Someone who is trying to curb the genocide, and someone who actively supports it.

I really hope you can see the significant and substantial difference between those two positions.

But let's say that you're right and Biden's policy towards Israel and Palestine is every bit as bad as Trump's would be. If there was nothing to choose between them on foreign policy grounds, there would still be a shitton to choose between them on domestic policy grounds. You admit that the right wants to kill your friends, and yet you don't seem to think that stopping them from killing your friends might be a good thing to do.

"We can't save Palestinians, so we might as well let Republicans destroy the rights, lives, and futures of LGBTQ+ people, women, people of color, people with disabilities, poor people, non-Christians, and anyone else they don't like." "We can't save Palestinians, so why bother to try to save the people we might actually be able to save." "We can't save Palestinians right now, so there's no point in trying to build up a longer-term political bloc that might drag US politics to the left over the long run."

Do you get why there's a problem with that line of thought?

#us politics

3K notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

Note

Hello ❤️

Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage

Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.

It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.

It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.

But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.

That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.

He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.

Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "

He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.

When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.

"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.

Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.

He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.

He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.

One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.

He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.

When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.

His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.

Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.

Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.

He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.

Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.

He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.

After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.

He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.

He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.

He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.

His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.

Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?

"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.

Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."

The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.

Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.

Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.

"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."

"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.

"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."

"I won't go back to the stupid system."

"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."

The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"

Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.

The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.

Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.

Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"

Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."

Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."

Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."

"How good is he?"

"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."

Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."

Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.

But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.

He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.

Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.

He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.

#dcxdpdabbles #Dead on main #Red Hood's snow #Jason falls for the man trying to make Crime Alley less terrible.#Danny is just vibing being a help to anyone that he comes across #Jason was raised along side a sweet Mexican family cause I say so #Jason falls for a man with a pure heart.#Rogers is freaking out #His boss??? with a crush???#Hope you like!

1K notes · View notes

cumikering · 1 month

Text

Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1) (part 8/end)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt

262 notes · View notes

olomaya · 4 months

Text

I need a poorer town.

I've been playing/testing a Volunteerism mod but I realize that everyone is too rich in my current town for it.

Local residents can volunteer at the local school or hospital to do things like coach children's sports games or bring knitted items for patients. Or active volunteering at a park, library or community center.

Here's my library volunteer hosting a storytime for kids. Except with no book.

But I think my favorite library volunteer feature is being able to recommend books to other Sims to read and then showing them where it is.

I'm trying to turn the community center into a bustling lot. There, my volunteers can host food drives, toy drives or soup kitchens. Again, no one fits the need criteria so we get a ton of donations but not many takers.

She can even run bingo games...if I can fix the machine. Does anyone know why the empty/clear parts of the cage are showing up as black? (Fixed! thank you @bietjie!!) Regardless, my elders are about to rack up a lot of debt playing because winning is not easy the pot keep piling up.

THIS took the longest time. I was trying to create a live class system similar to Uni but I wanted to have direct control over my teachers to be able to ask students questions or invite students to present, etc. I had to write and rewrite the code 3 times before I got something I was mostly happy with.

This is going to give my elder and retired Sims so much to do. But now I'm on the hunt for a slum town with broke sims so this mod makes more sense rather than the Hampton seaside community to continue testing and fixing all the bugs. Maybe Twinbrook or the bad side of Lucky Palms? Happy for any recommendations!

#sims 3 wip #volunteerism #around town

195 notes · View notes

flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your firefighter wolf alpha lets you sleep over

General Plot: Your house burns down, but no fear, a handsome firefighter wolf alpha is happy to let you sleep in his guest room.

Wolfman Firefighter x female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

W: longer nsfw smut, stalking, obsessive behavior, knotting and breeding kink , baby trapping, ambiguous ending

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you watched everything you owned burn to a crisp. Had you left the stove on? A candle? You couldn’t remember, shivering in your bare feet and pajamas wondering what you were going to do next. If it wasn’t for the brand new fire alarm your friend Ruston had installed, you might not have even made it out alive.

The local fire chief and pack alpha Ruston came jogging over, his yellow uniform hanging open revealing a firm chest of white fur. The blaze cast his huge form in sharp silhouette while the rest of the wolves in his pack fought it with hoses. His eyes were full of concern and he threw his jacket around your shoulders, pulling you over to an ambulance.

“Come on (Y/N), let’s have the boys look atcha,” he said.

“I’m fine!” you fussed, scared, confused, and overwhelmed. Your nerves were strung tight. Your hand clapped to your mouth and you looked up at him apologetically. If it bothered him you couldn’t read it on his canine face.

“Indulge me, peach?” he asked in the soft, but stern voice that always made you cave, “you could have inhaled some smoke.”

He was right and he was the expert. You needed to listen to his advice. He was always right and sometimes it drove you crazy. He was about fifteen years older than you. You’d met when he came to the elementary school you taught at to teach the kids about fire safety.

After the demonstration you had struck up a conversation and found you both liked to do charity work. Over the years you kept running into each other at the soup kitchen you volunteered at.

He volunteered there too when he could, which wasn’t as often as you because of his job, but often enough for you to get to know each other pretty well over the 8 hour shifts.

Volunteering, his work, and pack duties kept him too busy to date, so it never really came up and you assumed he wasn’t interested. You thought he was very attractive with his white fur and golden eyes, but you didn't know much about wolves. He probably had a wolf princess somewhere he was prearranged to marry and that was about as much thought as you’d given it over the years you’d known him.

He let the EMT’s take your vitals and breathe oxygen out of a bag until they were satisfied you didn’t need to go to the hospital. By that point reality had started to set in and tears were forming in your eyes. What were you going to do? Maybe with the cheap insurance policy you had you could afford a new house, but a new car? Clothes? Furniture? Food? Your $500 in savings was not going to cover that.

You sat on the bumper of the ambulance just staring. You pulled Ruston’s coat tighter around you, catching a whiff of his masculine musk mixed with the slight scent of smoke. It was a small comfort and you let your mind go blank so you could bask in it for a second without any complicated thoughts. His voice pulled you out of your stupor.

“Hey, peach, it’s going to be okay,” he said, leaning down to your eye level and brushing your cheek with a claw, “you don’t need a place to stay while you get yourself put together, I’ll take you home as soon as we’re done here.”

You started to shake your head, but he held up his hand.

“I won't take no for an answer, I know that face too well,” he said, “you're in shock. Don’t try to think right now, just let me take care of it. We can figure out everything tomorrow morning when you’ve had some sleep and some food.”

You conceded that he probably knew better than you and you didn’t have another plan. Your wallet, your phone, and all your credit cards were in the burning house.

His claws curled around you protectively as he glanced over his shoulder at the rest of his pack working dutifully to put out the fire.

“Thank you, Ruston,” you murmured, “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

He pulled you into his soft furry chest and stroked your hair.

“Everything is going to be okay, (Y/N),” he assured you.

You didn’t see how that was possible, but you just closed your eyes and let him comfort you. There was nothing else for you to do.

–

“What do you mean I’m fired?” you gasped at your principal, holding the slip of paper she’d given you announcing your dismissal. You were wearing clothes Ruston had bought you so you could get back to work, but as soon as you came in you were called into the principal’s office.

“There was a very serious complaint filed against you Miss (Y/N). You behaved inappropriately with a student’s parent.”

You gasped in horror as raunchy pictures of yourself in lingerie you’d taken for some past boyfriend were spread out on the table, printed on a sheet of paper along with emails from your address trying to seduce one of your student’s parents.

“But…but…this…it’s not true! It’s been photoshopped or something! I don’t understand!”

Your principal raised an eyebrow.

“That is you in the picture, right?” she asked.

You nodded numbly. It was you. A much younger you, but the same person.

“Then I think that says all there is to be said,” she snapped, “we don’t tolerate this kind of perverted, pornographic behavior here, Miss (Y/N), it’s an elementary school. Please vacate the premises or you will be escorted out.”

Your mind was too muddled to say much else and you stumbled out of her office, tears streaking down your cheeks. You didn’t even bother to ask yourself why Ruston’s truck was still sitting outside of the school waiting for you.

“What happened, peach? What’s wrong?” he asked, hopping out of the pickup and running over to you. He grabbed you by your shoulders and stuffed you into the passenger seat.

“They fired me!” you sobbed, letting out big ugly tears.

“They called me a pervert!” you cried.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, pulling you across the seat into his lap, “they must have gotten it wrong. Of course you aren’t a pervert. Who would say something like that?”

You shook your head, your cheeks prickling with salt.

“I don’t know…I don’t understand it…none of it makes any sense! They’re saying I seduced someone! I don’t even know half the words in the email she showed me!”

According to the email, you had some very creative ways of referring to your cunt.

“Shhh,” he purred, pushing your head into his warm chest, because he already knew what they’d accused you of.

“Let me take ya home, peach,” he said, running his claws through your hair, “we’ll get some food in ya and a bath and everything will look a lot brighter.”

His slight southern accent and gravelly voice went a long way to soothe you. When he said it was going to be okay, you almost believed it. You sniffled, dehydrated from crying and out of tears, clinging to him in his lap while he drove you back to his house.

He unloaded you from his truck and carried you into the kitchen propping you onto a stool while he rustled through the cabinets for ingredients. He’d stocked up on foods for humans just for you.

He pulled out a bowl and some pancake mix, and rifled through the refrigerator to pour you a glass of orange juice.

“What am I gonna do Ruston?” you moaned, “nobody is gonna to hire me with that picture going around! I might as well leave the state!”

He froze for a second before gathering himself and sliding around the counter to you.

“Don’t say things like that, peach,” he cooed, holding you against him. There was something incredible about having a large fuzzy wolf hold you to his chest and your heart fluttered, despite your misery.

“Everything is going to be just fine,” he went on, “maybe you should just lay low for a while until this whole thing blows over.”

“Lay low?” you gasped, “what…what does that mean? Just hide somewhere?I have to eat! I can’t live in your guest room forever!”

No, because you would live in his bedroom, he thought.

“But you can live here for a while,” he reasoned, brushing your tears away, “just think about it. You’ve worked so hard, don’t you deserve a break? I don’t mind at all. It’d be nice to have some company for once.”

“A- a break…?” you mumbled.

“Sure, hon,” he said, slipping back to the other side of the counter to give you some room to think, “volunteer at the soup kitchen, work on a novel…just take some time to take care ah yourself and let me do the rest. I manage a whole pack, what’s one more?”

You chuckled.

“Ruston, thank you for the offer, but that’s crazy,” you said, “I can’t just live off of you. That’d be wrong of me.”

He flipped a pancake, wondering how to work his way out of this hole. You were too independent, he would have to break you of it.

“Well then help me out with the pack,” he said, liking the idea more and more as the seconds passed in silence.

“Doing what?” you asked.

He shrugged, plating a pair of pancakes for you.

“I need lots of little errands run, things organized, there’s plenty of work to be done. You don’t have to answer now, just sleep on it and tell me what you think tomorrow.”

Warm food went a long way towards winning you over. He slid the pancakes across the table to you, covered in butter and syrup and you could forget your sorrows for a few sweet minutes while you ate the fluffy treat.

“Let’s getcha in the bath,” he said when you were full and had a little smile on your face. Wolves had different baths than humans. Instead of a small porcelain tub, they built large stone baths sunk into the floor with underground heating that could be kept filled and warm for a long time. His was already filled with tepid water, as if he had been preparing for this when he led you in.

The space felt small, filled with steam and Ruston’s large body. The scent of his musk surrounded you. There was something…maybe his pheromones that smelled so good to you. You just wanted to roll in it. You brushed a few fingers absently over his hip as you slipped past him.

He reached above you, putting you directly in line with his broad chest and his chiseled pectorals.

“Here’s some soap,” he said, pulling down a bottle and leaning down to set it behind you. As he dipped his head, his mouth brushed yours. Maybe it was because your life was a total wreck and nothing was making any sense, but you leaned in and pressed your lips against his muzzle.

You immediately drew back, your cheeks going red.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I- Mppf!”

Your words were cut short by Ruston’s tongue in your mouth. He lapped at you, kissing in the way wolves did, before dropping his nose greedily down your neck to graze the skin with his teeth. How long he’d been waiting to taste you. He couldn’t stop himself. He was sure he wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t kissed him first. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

He licked his way down your body, popping the buttons of your shirt and your bra all at once with one downward swipe of his claw. His agile tongue pushed its way past the loose cups to your nipple and he gave it a long lap, before licking and nibbling it with his teeth.

“Ah…Ruston!” you gasped, surprised by his passion.

He hoisted you up on the small countertop in the room, stripping you of your pants.

“Need you,” he grunted, his animal taking over.

You could see the feral look in his eyes. Ruston was gone and his wolf wanted to rut.

Something in you said fuck it. Everything else in your life was trash, why not have this one thing? Let the handsome wolf firefighter ravish you. You wanted it. Maybe you’d always wanted him.

You nodded slowly, giving him your permission, and your panties went with the rest of your clothes. He dropped to his knees, his flat tongue invading your folds.

“Sooo good,” he groaned into your pussy. He’d waited ages to taste you and it had been worth everything he had done. He wiggled his tongue into your channel eager to lick up your flavor. Your hands gripped his head, digging into the fur on either side of his ears.

He pushed a thick finger into your pussy, bringing the incredible pressure of his tongue to your clit. Your cunt spasmed around his finger. It had been a long time since you’d had sex and the pleasant invasion blew your mind. Colors flashed in front of your eyes as you ground your hips into his face.

“Fuck Ruston!” you squalled, “I’m gonna cum!”

He just growled at you, but it sounded like a good sort of growl, so you let yourself go, pushed over the edge by the vibration of his tongue on your little nub.

You fell back into the cool mirror behind you and Ruston popped up, his muzzle wrinkled and his teeth bared as if he were going to attack. His long tongue ran over his lips, as he drew your juices into his mouth and he loomed over you. It was clear by the thick rod thrusting into his pants and the dark wet spot of precum there what he wanted.

You fumbled with his belt without having to ask and his deep pink cock popped out, drooling cum. He didn’t hesitate to line himself up with your slit and thrust inside.

“Mine,” he snarled, his claws digging into the fat flesh of your ass as he lifted you up and fucked you into the wall.

His instincts were locked in on you. He needed to rut you and knot you. He curled his body down to you, so he could tangle his much larger tongue with yours. He savored your flavor before pulling you off of him and propping you up on your knees on the counter so you were high enough for him to enter you easily.

He bent you forward until your cheek was pressed into the glass and fucked you like you were his pretty doll, his hand buried in your hair, holding your head back so he could see your face and your spine arched.

“Yeah, sweet peach, that’s it,” he grunted, his laser focus dropping to your ass, “you can take it.”

You weren’t sure of that, feeling his huge shaft in your stomach. He was splitting you open so wide you could only drool and moan into the glass. His cock was made for wolf pussies, you were just a tiny human. He was big enough to fuck you stupid and was just barely squeezing into you.

He loved how his claws looked digging into the plump flesh of your rump. How he wanted to just take a bite out of it. He felt his knot swelling at base of his cock and he hurriedly jammed it in before it got too big to fit.

He could have waited…held off until your relationship was more established to knot you, but his wolf was having its way with you and it wanted to seal all of his cum inside you and breed you.

You screamed a full bellied scream at the intrusion. It hurt a bit, but more than that it stretched you more than you thought you could go. He rocked it gently inside of you as it swelled to its full size, careful of your smaller biology, until you moaned again in pleasure. His finger slipped underneath you and stroked your clit, soothing your aches and making your pussy wetter as he worked the knot deeper into you.

“Easy, little one,” he coached, “you can do it. Just like that.”

Your pussy milked his cock and his wolf loved it. You had a fat ass, but your pussy was small and his wolf didn’t want to hurt you. He pulsed his thrusts in rolling waves, gently, but firmly bringing himself to release in you as he strummed your clit.

You reached back clinging to his fur with a decadent scream, as he bottomed out in you, forcing himself and his knot all the way in. The two of you came in tandem, his teeth sinking into your shoulder right as your orgasm bloomed masking the pain.

Your fingers drifted shakily to the wound as you went limp, panicking a little when you pulled back and there was blood, but he nuzzled your hand away with his muzzle, licking the spot until it was soothed. His knot was still inside of you, locking you together, so he slid the two of you backwards into the bath to wait for it to go down.

“Wh-wh-what did you do…?” you panted, the warm water slipping around you while he continued to lick your neck.

“I marked you,” he said, “but don’t think about it now…just relax.”

To distract you he flicked your oversensitive clit, licking your neck, until he brought you back up to a dizzying height, so full and stretched around his knot.

“Let go, (Y/N) he whispered,” you didn’t hear the double meaning in his words, just indulging in your orgasm as you clutched his furry body.

Finally, you were too spent to think anymore and you let the hot bath and Ruston’s rhythmic licking ease you to sleep.

As Ruston held you while you slept, he hoped he’d bred you. He’d replaced all of your birth control with sugar pills, so he knew you were fertile. It was only a matter of fucking you until his seed took root.

He licked the wound on your neck again that would scar and leave his bite on you, claiming you forever. The red punctures, the unique shape of his teeth, looked so perfect on your (Y/C) skin.

When his knot went down he eased himself out of you, cleaning up your pussy a bit with his fingers before he wrapped your dead weight in a towel. He scooped up your panties as he took to his bed. After he laid you down and tucked you in he went down to his basement, unlocking a door only he had the code to. Inside, he’d built your shrine.

He’d been stalking you for a long time.

He could have asked you out like a normal person years ago, but he wasn’t a normal person. He needed to own you. It was something perhaps broken in his brain.

He’d assaulted all your dates, threatening each one after they dropped you off at your front door. No one ever called you back. You chocked it up to hook up culture. He’d crept into your house when you were at the school, stealing your panties and cumming in your food. You’d seriously blamed the little things you found amiss when you returned home on a ghost you’d named “Annie”.

He stalked your social media, had a tracker on your car, and had installed cameras all over your house that he could monitor from his phone. He’d even phished his way into your email account. Everything that seemed a little off in your life, you’d found a reason to brush away.

The fact that only he commented on your social media photos, the fact that you were always running into one another around town, and that he knew things about you he shouldn't know, like your dress size.

Maybe if you had been thinking about those things it all would have turned out differently.

He wanted you so badly he felt like he could just eat you up. His mouth watered when he thought about it. No, a normal relationship was not enough.

He needed you completely dependent on him. Completely under his control. You had to be his and his alone. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to share you with the children you taught. Only his children should get your love.

He’d sent the emails getting you fired from your teaching job from your email account, choosing the most chaste lingerie photo he could find to attach, but the most lurid language he could think of.

He hated to do it, but it was the easiest thing he could think of to get you fired, short of blackmailing your principal. That had been his second plan if this didn’t work, but then he would have to try and do the same thing to every other school you applied to. This way no one in a hundred miles would hire you.

He’d started the fire in your house, knowing just how to do it as a firefighter. Hiding in the bushes, he'd watched you climb out of your window with the escape ladder he installed. He needed you helpless with nothing for his plan to work, so he'd burned it all up.

There were pictures of you on the wall of this room, locks of hair he’d cut while you were sleeping, notes you’d discarded that he liked the way your handwriting looked, and other things he’d stolen from your house. The most relevant at the moment were the panties pinned to a bulletin board marking important dates to him.

One pair he’d stolen after he’d watched you bike all the way home from downtown, driving slowly behind you so he could watch your ass as you peddled your little legs off.

Another had been from a day he’d seen you at the soup kitchen and you’d complimented his fur. He just liked that memory so he’d stolen those panties from your laundry bin while you were at work the next day.

There were a hundred of them, stolen over the course of a few years. How you didn’t realize so many of your panties were going missing he never knew, but you always absently ordered more online to replace the ones he stole, thinking the washer was eating them.

He had them all labeled and he neatly wrote a new label for this one on a crisp strip of paper cut specifically for this purpose. Claiming (DATE). He pinned the note and the panties to his board and stood back looking at all of the things he’d collected.

He’d sit you down in the morning and explain to you that you belonged to him. He was sure you would accept him, because no one loved you as much as he did. No one knew you like he did. No one deserved you as much as he did and he wouldn’t let anyone else have you.

#monster x girl #monster oc #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance #human x monster #male yandere #yandere headcanons #monster smut #yandere smut #smut #wolf smut #wolfman #wolf #werewolf

1K notes · View notes

deathbypufferfish · 1 year

Text

It's finally done cooking, my sims gameplay ideas list! After scouring all types of sites, generators, lists, and my brain for ingredients, I've come up with a list stew that hopefully will spark some inspiration for your sims gameplays!

This non exhaustive list consists of ideas that are applicable to sims gameplay/things to do in-game. AKA things that can be played out in the sims or half pretended. If you're looking for less-gameplay story ideas, I recommend my story/conflict idea list. Most of the conflict and love ideas are on that list. Please feel free to send asks to add to the gumbo! Just note in your ask that it's for the gumbo and keep it applicable/feasible for gameplay. (To keep the post from getting too long I'll make a contributor list into a compressed image later on for those who send off-anon.)

If you are looking for more complex, in-game story ideas check out the Story Soup list here!

🍲 Gumbo below the cut! ⬇

Single Sim Gameplay:

Learn an instrument

Learn a new skill

Start a seashell collection (Island Living)

Have a sim get a bad haircut

Enroll an Adult/Elder sim in university

Use a skill you don’t usually play with

Become a mountain climber

Build a Servo

Take care of local strays

Use more likes/dislikes

Conflict:

Drop out of or fail university

Drop out or fail out of highschool

Talk badly about another sim in your house to other sims

Sim loses their job

Failed retail business

Family:

Foster a child

Parties for children

Have a baby shower

Have a slumber party

A grandparent/other family member moves in with your main household

Have a specific family holiday tradition besides the in-game ones

Family bike rides

Game night

Parent trains child in their sport

Family hikes at Granite Falls

Family volunteering

Bake sale (entrepreneur table)

Have a family photoshoot

Have teens study at the library

Have your teen go through a bad fashion phase

Host an exchange student

Make school picture day photos (Teen poses, children poses)

Have an arts & crafts day

Go fishing as a family

Have a specific weekly meal (spaghetti night, a fancy meal)

Make ice cream together (Cool Kitchen Stuff)

Wear matching pajamas for holidays

Have a bake off

Play with voidcritters (Kids Room Stuff)

Granola family (camping, hiking, low tech, simple living)

Play in a multi-generational household

Adopt

Family reunion

Unexpected baby

Have siblings share a room

Social/Activities:

Sports party night (e.g. watching the superbowl, world cup, etc)

Start a book club (with clubs)

Have a themed kids birthday party (Here’s a helpful website for ideas)

Have a potluck (buffet tables)

Garden party

Neighborhood party

Neighborhood holiday decorating contest

Host a haunted house in your home

Picnic

Barbeque party

Go to the arcade

Go regularly to restaurants (Dine Out Reloaded Mod to make restaurants tolerable)

Have an out of control party (maybe a teen party)

Go camping

Go to an Ice skating rink/roller skating rink

Spa day (at home or at a spa)

Make an army of snowpals

Movie night

Stargazing night/camp out in the backyard

Weekly bowling night

Museum trip

Karaoke night at home

Campfire night

Pool day

Weekly meetups with friends at a cafe

Try on wedding dresses with a bridal party

Have someone stay over (Growing Together)

Love:

Hook up with a service sim

Have a vacation romance

Have a “meet the parents” moment

Have an affair

Divorce

Marital fight

Rejected proposal

Throuple/Open Relationship (Open Love Life Mod)

Left at the altar

Use fear of commitment, jealous, or unflirty trait

Create a rocky marriage

Challenges:

Spend too much money on a vacation

Play with lot challenges

Use simple living (only cook with ingredients and do grocery orders)

Don’t clean up after sims (don’t drag plates, laundry, trash)

Use the Reduce and Recyle lot challenge for realism

Use the Filthy lot challenge to make cleaning harder

Lose a large sum of money

Randomize your sims’ traits as they age up

Household:

Have puppies and kittens

A serious house fire (either with cheating or with fireworks. There is also a mod for more intense fires here

Spring cleaning

Garage sale

Visit houses before you move into them

Create a storage room/attic (Eco Living boxes, Discover University chest, toy chest, treasure chest etc) Use this for old heir’s items if you are playing a legacy

Start a garden (herb, vegetables)

Renovate the house

Watch what your pets are doing

Adopt a stray animal

Teach your pets tricks

Upgrade objects

Have a home bar/rec room

Go on a vacation

Play with roommates (additionally have them be odd, difficult, or a romance option)

Have an always messy home

Hire a live-in butler

Hire a regular maid

Location:

Play in a sustainable community on one of the islands/isolated areas. (community farm, community space, homes)

Play in a tiny home (Tiny Living)

Play in a haunted house residential (Paranormal Stuff)

Become an Archaeologist. Live in Sulani and regularly visit Selvadorado for work

Career/Business:

Bookstore

Art gallery: sell your paintings or buy them off Plopsy/Buy Mode

Bakery

Play a career you don’t usually play

Winter sports store in Mt. Komorebi

Own a farmstand for your produce (Eco Lifestyle entrepreneur table) You can even build a small building for it on your property!

Pet supplies store

Plant store

Tourist gift shop

Mattress/Bed store

Florist shop (Flower Arranging Skill)

Juicery (Juice Fizzing Skill)

Yoga studio (host classes at a retail business or at a home studio)

Start a Bed and Breakfast/AirBnB with the roommate system

Become a celebrity in a path besides Actor/Actress (Author, Chef, Video Creator, Skier, etc.)

Food truck (Restaurant)

Fish stall (Entrepreneur table)

Make a living on Plopsy

Wool store (Cottage Living)

Natural health store (Herbalism)

Resources Used

ADAM DRIVER GIF DISCLAIMER: YES I KNOW IT'S A STEW

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 resource #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 inspo #sims 4 ideas #ts4 ideas #ts4 gameplay #puffer's gameplay gumbo #sorry there isnt a good stew gif my bad #i picked gumbo because it starts with a g #it could be a fucking lasgana i dont care #also addition asks to sections with less ideas are most welcome

869 notes · View notes

vaspider · 10 months

Note

Hi Spider! I hope things are going well for you and yours. I was wondering if I could ask some advice, after a fruitless search in various places.

We have a neighbour whose terminally I'll husband was taken to the hospital this morning. We're not expecting him to come home, but this has been coming for a long time and he deserves a good rest. We are trying to figure out how to help her out while she processes things. Unfortunately, she is severely celiac (cannot eat anything out of our kitchens because we aren't) and we live in a town where the nearest dedicated gluten free grocer is 2 hours drive away. She had to give up her vehicle to pay medical bills.

Our plan is to go to that grocer and grab her a stockpile of staples so that she doesn't have to worry about that for a while. She can get meat and veges and fruit here but the truly gluten free stuff is harder to get. The problem is that we have no idea what to get or how much of anything. She is FIERCELY independent and would never in a million years give us a list, and asking her to come with us is out of the question. She was a chef in a previous life (and ran a soup kitchen as a volunteer for 30 years).

Would you be able to give us some direction with this? As soon as I hear "celiac" your name pops into my head so when I couldn't find any celiac advice blogs (I'm sure they exist, search sucks) you seemed like the logical person to ask.

No pressure, if you don't have the spare spoons I get it. Thanks for reading anyway and maybe someone in the comments will be able to help?

First of all, thank you for reaching out. I'm going to just list some brands which I trust because they've always been reliable and also tell you some brands which have been iffy. I don't know what's available in your area, so, I'll give you what I've got.

Good brands:

Schar

Udi's

Canyon Bakehouse

Katz's

Tattooed Chef (not all items are GF, but the GF items have never made me sick)

Saffron Road (ditto, this is one of my favorite brands of microwave meal)

Sweet Loren's

Siete (good for cookies and chips)

Simple Mills (not sure if all of their stuff is GF, but the crackers and cookies I'm currently obsessed with are both from there. Literally the only place to get a GF Nutter Butter clone that I've found.)

There are a bunch more but those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.

84 notes · View notes

jamsofdeath0 · 1 year

Text

So Danny runs away with Haly's Circus. He sorta becomes like a big brother to Dick over the course of a year or two. When they hit Gotham the Graysons die aydda yadda. No they don't become ghosts.

When Gotham refuses to let Dick leave Danny stays too. He also promises to run away with Dick the moment they can. He doesn't get a good chance. Running away with a child is much harder than alone. He doesn't know the city. Or even where he'd find Haly's.

So they spend maybe a week in separate centers before Danny finds Dick and dips. They're homeless now. But Danny can protect Dick fine. He's got powers. And Dick is surprisingly capable at fighting. Not that Danny would let him near an adult.

Dick wants his parents killer dead. Danny's never killed anyone but Mary and John were kind of his parents too. And the kids not letting up. He promises to kill Zucco as long as Dick doesn't try.

They meet Batman while he's trying to find Zuccos killer. They meet "Bruce" while he's volunteering at a soup kitchen. Eventually he lets Bruce take them in because Danny figures out he's rich rich.

Now Danny's not too fond of kabizzilion airs. But he knows someone like that would probably have a PC. (Takes place in 03/06 depending on Danny's current age so computers are rarer) And between that and swiping a few thousand dollars he could probably get them back to Haly's.

That's how a half ghost teen and a weird little circus kid end up in Wayne manner with no intention to stay more than a week.

(no ghost king or obsessions or cores) (the only fanon I'm accepting is trans Danny)

#dp x dc #yes rheye both technically suspects but bruce is having troubke staying unbiased #like alot of trouble

299 notes · View notes

yakuzacanons · 5 months

Note

seasons greasons :) if you're up to it, could we perhaps some HCs for how the yakuza guys like to spend the holidays with their S/O? regardless of whatever they celebrate, ofc. the winter season is quite festive for all sorts of stuff. hope you're feeling alright btw! stay cozy and healthy ( ´･･)ﾉ(._.`)

SEASONS GREASONS skskskskskks u have my whole heart for that, also YES you can. Thanks for the well wishes too, unfortunately I have been slain by COVID so the sickness will continue. Doing my bestest though, headcanons below da cut.

Kazuma Kiryu

Lots of Christmas shopping for the kids at Morning Glory. Getting hot drinks and walking around together during a snowfall. He wouldn't expect you to do this with him but he likes to volunteer at events, like soup kitchens for the homeless, during this time of year.

Majima Goro

Him want go see the big fancy holiday lights with you. That's it. He just wanna go see some neat decorations and ooo and aaa. Also just wants to drink hot drinks and eat hot food with you.

Saejima Taiga

Doesn't care for public holiday events so much but he WILL be making a giant cauldron of homemade soup for you both. You don't have to help out but he would love it if you did!

Akiyama Shun

Not much a festive guy, typically spends holidays just sleeping a lot. Would go out for a particularly fancy dinner with you though. Does tag along for Christmas shopping if only to take notes on what you seem to like so he can buy it for you later.

Tanimura Masayoshi

He's pretty new at dating so he doesn't know what couples do for holidays but his personal tradition is making tons of handmade dumplings at Homeland and handing them out to all the families in the international district. He'd love it if you tagged along to help, maybe even tying some cute bows on the baskets before delivering them together.

Ryuji Goda

Big of heart and dumb of ass man Ryuji's favorite holiday thing to do is to make literally everyone in the Omi Alliance decorate the HQ. That includes you. Of course, since you are his literal favorite person, you get first and last say of what goes. It's really fun for the both of you, running around and throwing up decorations, telling grunts to put that there and not over there and what the hell were they thinking putting those lights with that color ribbon.

Nishikiyama Akira

He wants to visit all the cutest cafes and try their seasonal items. Nothing like a cutesy dessert for two... or two desserts. Or three. Also likes to wear matching scarves or matching gloves.

Daigo Dojima

He's also fairly unfamiliar with what couples do during the holidays but he's trying his best. Will take you out for a nice dinner for sure. He tends to prefer attending winter festivals instead of events for more modern holidays so if you're willing to try that, he'd love to go with you! His personal favorite holiday tradition is just enjoying hot tea while watching snow fall.

Mine Yoshitaka

He's pretty inward most of the time so holiday chaos just makes him want to stay home. Usually just decorates inside of his own home, he's not really religious but he likes the appearance of a Christmas tree so he typically goes with that. Would love to shop for some ornaments for you to hang up specifically.

Tatsuo Shinada

Literally all he wants to do is wear a Santa hat. That and probably go bar hopping on Christmas Eve. He's all about just relaxing and having a fun time, so long as he's with you. Would go caroling with you, although be warned he sings a little off key.

Ichiban Kasuga

He's probably one of the few out of all the boys that genuinely isn't picky about doing much during the holidays. As long as he gets to spend time with his loved ones, he's content. If it snows, he's definitely starting a snowball fight though. Would love to check out a holiday market with you though!

Tianyou Zhao

This silly head is making truck loads of homemade steamed buns and drinking a lot of tea and nothing can stop him from accomplishing his tasty holiday mission. He'd love to teach you how to make the buns. Likes watching you proudly place them in the steamer after he's filled them up.

Joon-Gi Han

His ass don't know nothin' about holidays! No, seriously, he's so confused. "Why's there a man in a red suit at the mall today?" Mostly just curious and kind of enamoured by all the activity spiking up all around the city. He's never really had a Christmas or much of any kind of holiday so you'll probably have to show him the ropes. Hot cocoa ends up being his favorite thing.

41 notes · View notes

grey-gazania · 2 months

Note

I'm sorry someone bombarded you with bitchy comments 😭. While my To Read list is lengthy and continually lengthier (actually I think something of yours with her is on it), I'd like to hear more about Ianneth-Fingon-Maedhros if you want to talk about them.

@polutrope

It wasn't really upsetting, just annoying and honestly a little bit funny. This guy left comments on all six chapters of By Love or at Least Free Will, every time I updated the story, just objecting to the entire premise of the story and ranting about how Elves have incorruptible pure souls and are immune to lust. I was sorely tempted to respond with this quote from "Laws & Customs Among the Eldar":

Even when in after days, as the histories reveal, many of the Eldar in Middle-earth became corrupted, and their hearts darkened by the shadow that lies upon Arda, seldom is any tale told of deeds of lust among them.

'Seldom' is not the same thing as 'never', and furthermore, I don't think lust is even a major theme of my story. It's more about conflicting obligations and unruly hearts.

In the end I deleted the comments without responding, because I have a personal policy of not engaging with people who are acting in bad faith. But I have to assume that this guy has no actual hobbies if he spends his time hate-reading entire stories instead of just...closing the window and moving on with his life. Maybe take up crochet, bro? Or volunteer at a soup kitchen? Watch a TV show that you like? Grow some tomatoes? Do something that will be more fulfilling than typing long screeds on AO3. I promise it will make you a happier person.

Anyway. On to the actual topic of your ask! As you've probably noticed, I am very fond of Russingon. However, I am also very fond of Fingon as Gil-galad's father. At first I balanced these two ideas by keeping my Russingon ideas and my Fingon-father-of-Gil-galad ideas in two separate universes, but then I started really fleshing out Gil-galad's mother, and it made me think some thoughts. To repeat something I said to @cuarthol in a comment on AO3:

...half the genesis of Ianneth was seeing so many stories (in multiple fandoms, not just Tolkien) where the woman is written out of a canon or semi-canon couple to make room for a popular M/M ship instead, without the female character being treated with any respect. I decided that the female perspective on that situation would be a nice change of pace and interesting to write.

I'm not trying to point fingers -- I'll readily admit that I have my male faves just like the next gal and that it's fun to make them kiss -- but the wives and girlfriends don't get a lot of love in fandom, do they? And it doesn't help that the legendarium in general tends to be a bit of a sausage fest. So I decided that Fingon would have a wife and be in love with Maedhros. But instead of focusing just on the forbidden love, I was going to focus on the wife's feelings, too.

Ianneth ("bridge-woman") is one of the Northern Sindar, from the community that lives around Lake Mithrim. She's the daughter of Annael (yes, that Annael), whom I've imagined to be one of the more influential leaders among the Northern Sindar, and particularly among the Elves of Mithrim.

Her betrothal to Fingon starts as a political arrangement. Fingolfin loves Fingon dearly, of course, but he's also been hinting for a while now that Fingon really needs to settle down and start having kids so that there will be a strong line of heirs should Fingolfin die. After all, Argon's dead, and Turgon and Aredhel abruptly fucked off to god-knows-where some three hundred years ago and haven't been seen nor heard from since. Your dad needs some grandsons, Fingon, and this also seems like a ripe opportunity to strengthen the Noldor's alliance with the Northern Sindar.

I don't think political marriage is unknown among the Elves of Beleriand. (For one example in the text, see Celegorm trying to marry Luthien to force Doriath into an alliance.) And the quote I drew the title of the aforementioned Fingon/Ianneth story from, also found in "Laws and Customs Among the Eldar," is:

The Eldar wedded only once in life, and for love or at the least by free will upon either part.

Free will could easily mean, "Are we in love? No. But I'll still marry you, for the good of our peoples, and I'll bring some of Dad's soldiers along with me." That sort of thing happened all the time among real-world nobility, so I see no reason why it can't happen among Elven nobility in Beleriand, too.

At any rate, Fingolfin arranges for Fingon to meet the daughters of some of the more powerful leaders of the Northern Sindar, and he's hint-hint-hinting that Fingon really needs to pick one of them to be his wife. Fingon, having been in love with Maedhros since they were young in Valinor, is not exactly keen on this plan. But he goes along with it anyway because he is a dutiful son, he knows that his father is right about needing to strengthen the line of succession, and he also knows that revealing his (quite taboo!) relationship with Maedhros to his father would probably break Fingolfin's heart.

It takes Fingon a while to decide who to court, but he picks Ianneth because he likes her sense of humor; she has the guts to gently tease him at their first meeting, which he finds quite charming. He doesn't think he can love anyone besides Maedhros, but he does look at Ianneth and think, "This is a woman I could grow to care for and whose companionship I think could enjoy."

The trouble begins when, over the course of their courtship, Fingon starts falling in love with Ianneth without falling out of love with Maedhros. And he doesn't know what to do about this. He can't call off the marriage, and he doesn't want to break things off with Maedhros, so he decides to just...keep the whole thing with Maedhros a secret and marry Ianneth anyway. It's not a good decision, but really, are there any options here that won't end with someone getting hurt? I don't think so.

So we have Ianneth, blissfully ignorant of her husband's infidelity (for now); Fingon, in love with two people at once and feeling horribly guilty about it, but unwilling to pick one partner over the other; and Maedhros, resigned to the situation but still hurting because Fingon is no longer his alone.

Maedhros' feelings are complicated by the fact that, once he meets her, he finds that likes Ianneth. It would be easier, he thinks, if he could write her off as just a political necessity for Fingon, but it turns out that she's charming and intelligent and kind, and he can understand why Fingon loves her. His feelings soften further once Ereiniel is born, because Fingon is so happy being a father, and he loves Fingon, so how can he begrudge him that? There's a line from "Famous Blue Raincoat" by Leonard Cohen that I always think of when I'm getting into Maedhros' head at this point:

And thanks for the trouble you took from [his] eyes. I thought it was there for good, so I never tried.

Things tick along about as smoothly as they can for thirteen years, until, in the aftermath of Fingolfin's death during the Dagor Bragollach, as Fingon prepares to send Ianneth and Ereiniel to the Falas for their safety, Ianneth learns his secret. This is understandably devastating for her, and leaves her wondering if Fingon ever really loved her as she loved him, or if his marriage to her was simply a politically expedient sham.

Add to that the fact that she leaves for the Falas less than ten hours after this revelation and spends most of that ten hours either crying or asleep, as she's too upset to really talk to Fingon about what she's discovered, and it leaves her with this horrible knowledge and all the worst thoughts that come from it gnawing at her nearly a full year until Fingon next comes to Eglarest -- time that she spends as the sole caregiver for her young daughter, among strangers in a foreign city, without her mother or her sister or any of her friends who might have theoretically been able to offer her some emotional support.

Theoretically is a key word there, though, because even if, say, her sister had come to Eglarest, Ianneth isn't sure she'd even be able to tell her. For one thing, she can't help feeling ashamed, because infidelity is very rare among Elves, and she can't help thinking that maybe she failed as a wife somehow, and if she'd done something different, Fingon wouldn't have strayed. Then there's the fact that he's the High King of the Noldor, and if this gets out it could cause a crisis in the Noldorin government and possibly tank the alliance between the House of Fingolfin and the Northern Sindar. Ianneth is a practical woman, and she's of the Northern Sindar -- the people who have been living practically on Morgoth's doorstep for centuries, with no Maia queen's magic girdle to protect them. Their alliance with the Noldor is vital, and she would never want to jeopardize it.

So Ianneth is just...completely alone with this pain. She has no one to turn to, no one who can comfort her. And that pain is central to her story, and a not insignificant part of Ereiniel's story, too.

#polutrope #turns out when you ask me about my ocs i turn into treebeard #ianneth #fingon's wife #fingon #maedhros #gil galad #woman king au #my ocs

21 notes · View notes

nolsaesthetic · 6 months

Text

♡Crowley♡ Headcanons

Idc what anyone says, he likes his hair being messed with

Mommy issues, the original

Favorite season is autumn because even though they hate the cold, getting to cuddle up with Aziraphale to get warm is worth it

Love language is quality time but shows it through acts of service and gift giving

Once free from Hell, they volunteer (orphanages, soup kitchens, shelters, ect.)

Doesn't enjoy pop music all that much

Gave Beelzebub a 'how to care for your angel' guide as a honeymoon gift

Still checks in on Warlock and Adam, secretly

Retains a small amount of faith in God, but none in heaven

Is very annoyed that Gabriel got a happy ending, kind of bittersweet about it

Has no idea what flower language is and just thinks Aziraphale really likes orange tulips

Learn how to be more independent and have their own life after season 2

Disappeared off the face of the Earth after season 2, maybe literally, and then reappeared up to two years later like nothing happened

Afterward, Nina and Maggie try to get him to talk, but he'll usually just leave once the mention Aziraphale

Hadn't entered the bookshop since the fight, got really drunk one day and broke in. It scared the shit out of Muriel

Has a whole self care and skin care routine

(Sorry) Was left in complete confusion right after her fall. No one told him anything, and she was too afraid to ask anymore, so she waited until she could figure it out on her own

Tried to keep a duck as a pet once. It didn't go well, and he settled for just having a duck he silently named St.James

One time, an old dude shouting at the street yelled that they were going to Hell for being gay and they could they laughed so hard the guy left

Has had the "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven" pick up line used on her way too many times

Grows an apple tree in her garden at the South Downs Cottage

Still refuses to go back to Hell even after Aziraphale left, holds out hope that he will come back soon

Doesn't eat anything anymore, other than alcohol, reminds them too much of Aziraphale

Wants to be spiteful towards Aziraphale and Heaven, but doesn't have it in them

I'm so sorry this was a bit more angsty than I was going for. As always, if you have more headcanons, let me know about them ♡

#good-omens #ineffable idiots #david tennant #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #south downs cottage #maggie #Nina #muriel #im sad now #Alexa play Take Me To Church

51 notes · View notes

blubushie · 4 months

Note

I can't get over the reasoning mavis blocked and ended your friendship oml. Girlie was really being a drama queen over such a stupid thing, putting words in your mouth that you never even said in the first place and creating problems for herself when there weren't any. I still have no idea how she managed to take you telling her that she needs to put herself out there if she wants to toughen up and took it to mean that you are putting her down for being a woman??? when you were literally doing this exact opposite of that.

Yeah that was a constant with her. I devoted 6+ months to trying to help her and it was always her either outright refusing any of my advice while giving bullshit excuses for her refusals ("How do I be happy and grateful" "Volunteer at a soup kitchen" "I can't I don't like Mormons they're always so happy" iunno maybe it's cuz they're helping people?) or it was her only doing half of what I told her to do and then coming to bitch at me because my suggestion didn't work. Because she didn't actually do what I told her to do.

I'm the exact opposite of a bloke who's gonna tell someone they shouldn't do shit cuz they're a woman 😭 Fuck gender stereotypes/gender roles, do what you wanna do. I lean traditional but I'm not "women must be dependent on their husbands"/"women must remain weak and subservient to men"/"women must etc" traditional cuz there's nothing a person MUST be because of their gender or sex. That's all bullshit.

Peace and love on planet earth we're here for a good time not for a long time and everyone deserves to enjoy themselves and live their lives to the fullest. If that's a bloke who identifies as a bloke prancing about in a dress or doing ballet then good on him! If it's a chick leading a company, or building some muscle and working a hard labour job and being independent then good on her! Fucken—non-binary person on an oil rig! Good on them! I hope everyone is happy always and gets to experience all of the joys and mysteries and whimsy life has to offer!

Just don't get in my hair about it when I try to help you achieve your goals and it doesn't work out because you don't actually listen to what I'm telling you! Don't blame me for your own shortcomings! Twat

#blu whos #mavisposting

12 notes · View notes

ashleywool · 10 days

Text

feelings come in waves feelings go in waves

We had our rehearsal for the HTDIO reunion concert today (the concert is on Monday night) and it made me realize just how much energy I've been expending on burying the grief and depression, running away from it, refusing to look at it. Until today, I hadn't listened to any of the music since February.

It's not that I'm avoiding feeling it because I'm ashamed of it. It's just that grief takes up a lot of energy that I don't have. I can't magically procure more of unless my body decides to cut me a break.

I want to do other things. I want to volunteer at the soup kitchen. I want to work on learning Spanish again, or strengthening my wrists so I can start relearning guitar. I want to roller skate by the river. I want to get dinner with my dad up in Westchester. I want to take a day trip and walk in the woods. I want to get excited about Broadway Bares, which I'm finally going to be ONSTAGE dancing in for the first time. I even want to apply for "civilian" jobs.

But my body doesn't care what I want. My body can't keep a reasonable perspective on life. My body can't check my privilege. My body can't respond to the constant social media calls to action about whatever atrocity is plaguing the world today. My body can't even scream a response to the people shaming others for what they aren't saying. My body is trying to sleep, or stay awake, or have an appetite, or get food together even in the absence of an appetite, or determine why my lymph nodes are suddenly swollen, or engage in healthy coping mechanisms. All of it is exhausting.

It's like everyone just FORGOT that humans are animals that have scientific physical reactions to things regardless of how convenient those reactions are, or whether or not those reactions serve The Greater Good. Maybe there's a heartbreaking war in the middle east AND I'm depressed. Maybe there's another horrifyingly contentious presidential election coming up AND I miss our show. Maybe I have it easier than most people AND my neck still hurts too much to get comfortable.

At any rate I I have a whole new appreciation for what Caitlin Doughty constantly says about how Western culture has an unhealthy relationship with death, and with grief. Whether it's a person or a job or a production or just a general "season" we're grieving, Americans kinda suck at it. We shame ourselves for it. For what we can't do. For what grief takes out of us.

The inconvenient truth is, we have to feel the feelings.

I'll feel more of them on Monday I'm sure.

#grief #grief is weird

11 notes · View notes

soupgoose · 2 years

Text

Late Nights and Early Mornings

Requested: No one other than myself :D

Genre: Slight Hurt/Comfort (very brief, like so little that its barely enough for a tag), So much Fluff, teeth rotting even, One-shot

Word Count: 3714

Paring: HeadEngineer!Mark x Captain!Reader [Gender Neutral], Still written (slightly) platonically, still up for interpretation (but let's just say that maybe Mr. Head engineer is crushing a little but >:) )

Warnings: None :D

Summary: When the Captain doesn't feel like going back to bed, someone else decides to take the initiative.

A/N: Definitely another one of those self-indulgent ideas I came up with when I couldn’t sleep and decided “Hey this would be adorable”. And thus, this was born! MAyBe, just MaYBe I stayed up a little late to finish this, but hey! Can’t stop that sweet sweet writing grind! Did my computer try to crash multiple times as I was writing this? Yes, but that’s a future me issue.

As always, if you have any ideas or critiques for how I can improve in the future, please let me know!

Happy reading!

-Soup :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t get to choose if I exist!”

“I don’t know if your evil, or just stupid!”

“I’m going to fix the damage you caused.”

“What did you do?!”

“Captain no! Think about the colonist!”’

“Captain! Something is very wrong!”

“It all comes down to bad leadership.”

“Captain! NO-”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sharp inhale breaks the calm silence that filled your chamber, as your body jolts forward. Your hand clenched the fabric of your night shirt. Heavy and panicked breaths rock your chest, and you feel your lungs desperately searching for oxygen.

The voices and screams of various friends and acquaintances begin to fade from your ears, leaving behind a painful quiet. You glance across your sleeping chamber, studying the assets that surround your bunk.

“Just a nightmare… It was just a nightmare.” You mumble under your breath.

Moving to sit against the headboard, your hand presses against the skin on your face. You try to rub the tired from your eyes, sighing to yourself in the process.

They hadn’t been as frequent recently, a stark contrast from when you had first landed on the colony's new home. Nightly terrors and haunting memories kept you in a perpetual state of exhaustion.

After an exhausting day with the colony, and the promise of yet another busy day quickly approaching, the one thing you were excited for, was a night of good sleep.

But of course.

Another nightmare.

You began to move from your spot on the bed, shifting quietly so as to not wake up the others in the rooms around your own.

To your credit, you had hid it fairly well. That was until you abruptly crashed mid meeting. What made it worse, was the fact that you did it in front of your crew leads and a select group of high ranking crew. And thus, your nights of sleeping in a 1 person suite stopped promptly.

Instead it was traded for a shared living quarters, fit with one large living room and kitchen, and separate rooms and offices for your “roommates”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first person to volunteer was, of course, Mark. No one was shocked by his eagerness to tend to and to room with his The Captain.

Apparently, his reasoning was that he wasn’t a fan of having a large suite all to himself. After having long gotten used to sharing a small living space with others, he felt uncomfortable with the lack of company and chaos which he had grown so fond of. He said that there was too much space and not enough noise to fill it, whatever that meant.

Moving to your closet, you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to put on something else. Hoping that the slight change in your environment would distract you from your less-than-pleasant waking. Smoothing down your hair, you began to look for something more comfortable to wear than the itchy wool nightshirt you and the crew had been given.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next person, surprisingly, was Gunther. Somewhat agreeing with Mark, he too wasn’t overly happy with the general lack of trouble that he wasn’t causing. He was much more excited for the “shenanigans” that the three of you could pull off with the combined free time. A cheer and a fist bump between Mark and himself was interrupted by Celci.

While she wasn’t completely thrilled at having to spend any extra time around the two, she wanted to make sure that someone was keeping the Captain relaxed and focused in this arrangement. And so, she was the last to volunteer.

“The whole point of us moving in is to keep them healthy and on track. If you two are always keeping them up zt night by messing around, and blowing up who knows what! Then that’ll defeat the whole purpose.”

There was an exchange of groans and eyerolls. But ultimately the three of them did come to an understanding. The point of this was to keep you from staying up alone, and this would hopefully add in a sense of comfort to lessen the frequency of your nightmares.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What you decided on wearing wasn’t exactly your normal uniform, but it could pull off as a convincing underlayer if you needed to explain to a bystander. Wearing a pair of comfortable pants and a slightly loose white shirt, you begin your trek to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Burt, while he offered his full support, did not want to participate. After all, he was comfortable with his living space, as it had enough room for his projects and was isolated away from distractions. A plus was that it was connected to the Main Engineering Plant, which held a large portion of the crucial mechanics and the main power station, through a short maintenance tunnel. He did say that he would swing by often to catch up and spend time with the group when he could.

After no one else volunteered the arrangement was sealed.

Did you try to resist, saying that it would be too much effort and that they (your nightmares) would eventually pass? Yes.

Did they listen to your complaints? Technically? They did in fact hear what you had said. They just didn’t follow.

While at first glance at the situation it would seem that mixing Mark’s and Gunther’s personality with Celci’s would be a homicide in the making. In reality, as long as they didn’t mess with each other too much, everybody got along. At least enough to keep your sanity intact.

Ever since then, there hasn’t been a dull moment. Two explosive-happy maniacs make for quite the party. Various near disasters and encounters with death later, and the four of you had settled in a sort of manageable, but also chaotic schedule.

Their endearing smiles at your laughter went unnoticed.

Over multiple weeks, most, if not all, of your night terrors had taken their place on a storage shelf at the back of your mind. Very few people knew of the arrangement, and even fewer knew the reasoning behind it.

And you came to learn that your crew truly did care about your well being, and were relieved to watch you improve. Family style meals and weekly “game-nights” quickly became a tradition. And even though you never quite caught on, your crew was completely taken aback as they watched more and more of your true self break out of the façade that being a Captain had created.

Celci’s captivated gaze when you would ramble and rant was unseen.

You never did catch Gunther’s pride swell when he got you to laugh and play around with the group.

And not once did you realize how infatuated Mark was towards you when you would smile.

Things up until this point had become, you hate to say it but, almost perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The subtle clicks of your shoes echoed quietly down the hall. Many of the lights were off, other than a few nightlights that created a soft glow at the base of the walls.

Walking past Celci's room you could hear a faint white noise machine from behind her door. And a soft blue emitted from the crack underneath the door frame. You stopped in front of it, pausing to make sure that she hadn’t woken up from your movements. She was fairly easy to wake up if someone needed her assistance. Years of having to watch over the well-being of thousands of colonists prevented her from ever reaching a deep sleep.

After a second of listening you moved on.

You then passed Gunther's room on the other side of the hall. The man’s snoring and muffled music made you chuckle under your breath. You knew that you didn’t have to wait around, as you had learned quickly that he could sleep through almost everything, be it a blaring alarm or explosions right outside his door. He really only woke up on his own terms, and somehow always when someone needed him for something. How he managed to get up on time everyday still baffled you.

You continued on your journey, listening to your soft footsteps and the hum of the world around you.

The living room had a sizable nook for desks and cabinets, which is where some of the larger projects and work documents were kept. It was also where you found Mark.

Turning the corner you noticed two things.

One, the door to Mark’s room was wide open, revealing an empty room. And two, there was a light on in the kitchen.

“I’m surprised to see you up.” You announced from the archway between the hallway and the living room. You leaned most of your weight against the wall behind you, crossing your arms in front of you like a disappointed parent who just caught their kid up late on a school night.

Your voice was just loud enough to be heard by the engineer, as he jumped at the unexpected company.

“Captain! Shoot- wait. Um, captain? You’re awake?” He asked, quickly lowering his voice, so he wouldn’t wake the other two. He was embarrassed, obviously. Even though you both knew that he wasn’t doing anything bad, he still looked as if he had been caught red-handed at the scene of a crime. Face completely red and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You kept your volume soft as you let out a laugh, finally crossing the room and reaching the kitchen. “Well, you are talking to me, so I would assume so.” You replied sarcastically.

“Sorry, I’m just surprised to see that you're awake at this time. Typically your mornings don’t start this early. What’s gotten you up and moving?” He spun his chair around to face you. His eyes follow your deliberate, and somehow still exhausted, movements as you decide to make yourself a cup of coffee.

You began to speak while looking away from him, focused on the task at hand. “You’re definitely right about that sir. However I really have to ask, what in the world are you doing up? I thought that you had something due in a few hours?”

You could feel his face heat up even more from across the room, “I mean- Yeah… but I just had to get this finished before I could sleep.”

The coffee had finished brewing and a small hiss creeped from the machine.

“Is it the one for today?”

His lack of a response gave everything you needed to know.

“I see.” You poured the brew into two small mugs, stirring in any extra add-ins that you felt were needed.

“I know… I just-” he sighed in defeat, looking back at the desk. Strewn with papers and a small laptop, he looked over the mess he had created in his hurry to finish his project.

“I knew that I had to get it finished, but I was having so much fun that I just kept…”

“I get it, Mark. You don't have to explain it to me. You’re not in trouble, I just find it amusing.”

You smirk, placing the cups on the desk as you take a seat next to him.

“I know you have been, that’s why I’m not upset with you. I know that you have your “methods”, and really who am I to question them. You’ve gotten all of your projects completed by the deadline, and I’m not the first to say that they’ve all been good quality too. I just wish that they wouldn’t make you stay up as late as they do.” You playfully smack his shoulder with the back of your hand. He winced dramatically, causing you both to snicker.

“It’s not like me to procrastinate this bad. I mean, sure I’ve got my moments, but seriously I’ve been really productive this whole mission! Oh, is that for me? Thank you.”

He took a long sip from the mug, basking in its warmth. You watched as his body relaxed, his shoulders and back slightly slouched against the back of the spinney chair.

“That’s pretty bold coming from you, Captain. I should be the one asking you why you're still up, y’know. After all, you never did answer my question.”

You set your mug down against the desk wordlessly. He already knew why, he just wanted you to admit it.

He shifts in his chair, sitting a little straighter and with his full body facing you. He looked so worried, but also so…

You stared into the contents of the mug in front of you.

“Captain?”

Sighing, you look up at him.

“You already know why Mark. This one, I just couldn’t bring myself to go back to sleep.”

His eyes reflect your own exhaustion, but also radiate a look of genuine concern.

“Cap…”

You turn away, “I mean it really wasn’t that bad. Definitely not one of the worst ones. It’s just…frustrating. After not having one for a while, it bugs me that they come back when I need to sleep the most.”

Comfortable.

He reached out with an arm, placing his hand over yours. While surprised by his forwardness, you didn’t move your hand away. “Cap, you know you can talk to me about these things. That’s part of the reason I’m here after all.” His thumb began to gently caress the back of your knuckles.

You huff jokingly at him, looking at your hands. You take a second to consider his offer. “I know, I know.”

You feel the bags under your eyes grow heavier, despite having the caffeine from the coffee running through you.

“Of course.”

“I think-” you feel his hand tighten a little around your own, “It is was it is, y'know? But, thank you, Mark. You've helped me a lot.”

You know that's not what he wanted to hear, but he doesn't continue to pry. “Alright Cap, you know I’m here when you feel up to it.”

You couldn’t help from teasing him from time to time. At the beginning of the arrangement, you figured out that you could easily make him flustered, and you’ve been using it against him ever since. Never enough to make him upset with you, not seriously at least, but just enough that it still had a similar effect every time, and always caught him off guard.

“Well?” You spoke suddenly, and a mischievous grin formed.

“Well what, Captain?”

“You said that was only part of the reason”

“Yes? What are you-”

“Mind telling me what that other reason might be?”

He caught on to what you might have been suggesting, stuttering and blabbering as he desperately tried to find the right words.

You wouldn’t call yourself a natural flirt, not even a good one, but over the years it was just one of those random things that you had picked up.

You enjoyed the close, comfortable, moments that the two of you shared. Sure you had spent time chilling out with the others. But something about these moments with Mark just felt different.

You were still laughing to yourself as he looked away, the other hand subconsciously moving to the back of his neck. His offense wasn’t true, as if you could ever really hurt his feelings, but it was still amusing to watch.

Your smile falters for a moment as the warmth from his hand leaves your own. A blush began to collect at the top of your ears shortly after.

A good kind of difference.

You suddenly yawn, feeling the tiredness pulling effortlessly at your eyelids.

“Damn…” you chuckle.

“Well Cap, I think that’s a clear enough sign that you should go back to sleep.” He spoke, his confidence coming back to him.

“Never.”

“Wha? Captain, what?” He asked breathlessly, taken aback by your sudden stubbornness.

“Nope. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” You add a dramatic flare to your statement.

You were half joking, you knew that you really should go back to sleep, but you weren't ready to, not yet at least.

“Come on Cap’n, you really need to get some rest-”

“So should you. Did you think that you were going to get off the hook that easily?”

“...Seriously?”

The cocky expression you wore said it all.

“So, you’re not going back to sleep until I finish this?”

“Yup.”

It takes you both a second before you make it over to the couch, and only then do you realize a crucial flaw in your plan.

Mark grew a smirk of his own, “Oh really?”

“Yup.”

“I bet you, 10 bucks, that you won’t be able to stay awake for more than 20 minutes.”

“Alright. You’re on. I bet you 15 that I can.”

“Oh I see how it is. I’ll raise you 15, if you can stay awake, while sitting on a couch, you win.”

You felt your confidence fall for a moment, “...Ok, fine, but only if you're sitting with me. It wouldn’t be fair having me sit behind you, just listening to you work.”

He thinks for a second, “Alright then, okay. Game on, Captain.” He sticks out his hand towards you.

“Game on, Engineer.” And with a firm handshake, the game began.

The couch is really only wide enough for two people sitting practically on top of one another.

“Oh crap…” you think to yourself.

“Well then, I guess this is a little trickier than you thought, huh Captain~”

He was way too comfortable with this. Being the fact that you and him were squeezed in right up against each other.

“Of course not!” you bluffed looking away from him, “I just forgot how tiny this seat is. I guess it’s really more of a loveseat, than a full couch.” You tried to force out a relaxed chuckle, but it came out sounding strained and nervous than you would have liked. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

“If you're uncomfortable with being this close to me I can move. I guess it would mean that you’d lose, but your comfort is a higher priority to me.” He spoke softly, leaning in a little closer. He lingered there for a moment, before chuckling to himself and retreating to his half of the seat.

It's a good difference, even though it's unfamiliar.

It's not exactly you being uncomfortable that was the problem.

No. It’s the fact that you are extremely comfy. Like the comfort from just him having his hand on top of yours. Just, multiplied by 1000, and over a larger surface area.

You wait for the red that covers your cheeks to dissipate slightly before you cough up a response. “I’m not going to lose to your cheating games, Mark. You can try all you like, but I am in no way-”

When you do look back at him, you find that he’s practically glowing as he’s looking at you. Eyes half lidded, and his cheeks are only a little more red than your own.

“Going…to-”

The way that he smiles at you makes your heart stutter. He looks at you like you're the only thing that matters.

“Lose.” Him throwing back the same style of teasing back at you was one thing. But how he was looking at you, was something completely unexpected.

“I’m intrigued”

He’s thinking about something. The way his eyes flicker over your features

“I’ll bring it back down to 10 if you let me try something.” Smile still mischievous, but with a layer of something else. Something gentler.

“Can you stand up for a sec? It involves a little bit of moving…”

You nod, standing up. This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you're curious to see what his plan is.

Both of your cheeks are glowing brighter than before. However, he still looks so content and focused in the moment.

He sets his laptop down on the side table next to him. He moves over so that he's leaning more into the corner of the couch. One of his legs is placed across the back, while the other is draped over the edge and his foot is resting on the floor.

Once he finds a seemingly comfortable position, he pats at the little bit of couch in front of him.

Once you sit down, he beams, “come’er you!”, pulling you flush to him.

“It was a trap!” you yelp, trying to squirm against his hold on you. The two of you tried to suppress a laughing fit, but eventually it couldn’t be helped. You eventually relaxed against him, still snickering as you caught your breath.

His arms are wrapped tightly around you, and your chest is pressed against his own.

You can feel his heartbeat, and his body relaxing around you.

You thought about trying to resist, but his voice interrupts that train of thought.

You begin to feel your own heart calming down, your breathing returns to its natural cadence.

Your eyes droop slightly, and there's now a significant amount of effort in staying awake.

“Comfy?” He asks, still wearing a smirk, but more endearing than before.

“Mhm..” You mumble against him, burying your face into the top of his chest, your crown resting just above his collarbone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll drop it down to 5 if you let yourself relax…”

He could feel you trying to fight sleep. And in reality, he knew from the start that it wouldn’t take much effort to get you to sleep, but he didn’t expect to fall for his own trap.

You look up at him, “As long as the next time this happens I don’t find you awake like this again..”

He chuckled, “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Counter offer, how about I’ll just ask you for this the next time, so you don't have to deal with my stubbornness?”

“But I like dealing with you.”

You smile, letting your mind slip into the warmth that surrounds you.

You felt his laugh reverberate through his chest, and the hum of his voice hit your ears. “I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Gunther and Celci stumbled in on an adorable scene. Mark and the Captain were cuddled together.

Mark had his face buried into the top of their head, meanwhile the Captain had their ear pressed firmly against his chest.

“Would ya look at that”

Gunther whispered, moving across the living room, finding the almost empty mugs on the desk. Looking back at Celci, he smirks.

“Seems like someone owes me 20 bucks.”

“fine…”

#in space with markiplier #iswm x reader #after the events of iswm 2 #iswm mark x reader #hurt/comfort #one-shot #couch cuddles #fluff #and I mean SO much fluff #gender neutral #somebody's crushing~#markiplier egos x reader #head engineer mark #head engineer mark x reader #captaineer #iswm

313 notes · View notes

beloved-belittled · 2 months

Text

Yandere Cetrion x Reader

A/N: Two stories in a single week? Don't say I don't ever treat y’all. Since I've written for Kronika and Shinnok I figured I should include her as well. Also her Tower ending… It intrigues me. It gives me ideas about a few stories is all I'll say.

TW: Platonic yandere, violence, stalking, unhealthy power dynamics, MK11 Tower ending spoilers, honestly this is pretty tame.

Out of her family she's the most likely to fall for a mortal. Cetrion genuinely cares about mortals despite her loyalty to her mother’s wishes. This is demonstrated in her Tower ending, where initially upon getting The Hourglass she creates a paradise of sorts. I imagine that in Heaven the Elder Gods are quite bored, not having much to do as their interference with the realms is limited. And Heaven isn't exactly getting invaded or falling apart anytime soon. So, I imagine they watch the happenings in the realms like it's a livestream.

This is how Cetrion ends up discovering you, just one day while she's watching Earthrealm. Though the Gods are meant to be unbiased in their decisions, she would be lying if she said Earthrealm wasn't her favorite. Out of all the realms it's the one that's come closest to embodying virtue. What places her attention on you would be any act of good. Whether that's volunteering at a soup kitchen or an animal shelter -as long as you're helping those less fortunate you'll catch her eye.

When you do catch her eye it's hard for Cetrion to pull her attention away from you. It's as though she senses some potential in you, but can't quite place her finger on what. It isn't love at first sight, but she is intrigued with you immediately after that incident. From that point on you'll have divine eyes watching you, observing every single action and word you say without rest…

So, you better be on your best behavior! It seems like Earthrealm (for the most part) follows our history so you may not even know about the existence of Elder Gods. Even so, the burning sensation of being watched everywhere you go is too intense to be imagined. You'll likely become paranoid in public/private but not know the reason why.

Hopefully, upon getting that sensation you decide to continue being a good person. Cetrion is pleased to see such saintly behavior from you. You help others without expecting a reward and always treat others with compassion. It warms her heart to see you try to improve the world you're in even just a little.

Cetrion is also the quickest to pine for you out of her family. She falls into limerence in about a few months. That time might as well be seconds to her. Likely, you're not even the first human who she’s obsessed over. But, you're the first one where she'll actually be able to act on her feelings.

Cetrion was originally going to just hope that your soul would ascend to Heaven after your death. Maybe she would even attempt to coax you into living a righteous life, assuming she could get away with contacting you past the other Elder Gods. But with Shinnok's decapitation and Kronika wanting to reset the timeline again, things go in Cetrion's favor more than it has for the past resets. She ends up rebelling against Kronika and successfully becoming the Keeper of Time. With her and the Elder Gods out of the way, well, what's stopping her from getting to know you a bit? But first, she must make a better world for all mortals. It's her duty as the Goddess of Virtue after all.

You don't meet Cetrion until after she reshapes the timeline. She crafts your fate to be one by her side -an emissary of the Life Goddess herself. As she watches you be born into a loving family, she can't help but smile as she thinks about what your future holds.

I believe Cetrion in a way just wants a happy family -especially after observing mortals for so long. I believe that's why she follows Kronika even if a part of her really believes her mother’s wishes are utter garbage. If she lives up to Kronika's expectations then maybe she'll get love for once. At least with her gone, she's fully accepted mortals as her family.

Annnnnd that's where the good times end. While you were a relatively kind person in the previous timelines, something about having a life free of adversaries seems to change you. You grow up to become a sinful person. You overindulge yourself in food, liquor, and gambling. You constantly partake in illegal substances and attempt to get others as addicted as you are. You even show absolutely no compassion to your fellow man -taunting and bullying anyone who dared to deviate from your worldview. You're all around a bad person, and it becomes even worse when you get the wise idea of joining a mercenary gang to fight in Outworld.

Cetrion stops that timeline before you get too out of control. She generously decides that maybe your behavior was just a fluke. You reincarnate into a similar life as before, but still you fall into being a vile pest. Annoyed at this she once again restarts the timeline, but this time she puts you in a not as noble but still caring family.

Nope. You're still evil. And not only just you, but it seems like other mortals are getting worse each time she resets despite her making a paradise. She's become quite disillusioned at this point, frustrated at how doing the right thing is leading to despicably immoral creations. She thinks that maybe mortals do constantly need that push of an adversary. To always need one foot on their neck to appreciate her gifts.

As Cetrion reshapes the realms to something more… Hellish, she's still willing to give you one last chance. Maybe your corruption was simply from being around all these impure mortals. If you were closer to your goddess, right with her in the Heavens then perhaps the taint of sin will leave you. You'll be pure again. She'll cleanse you of filth no matter the means she must resort to.

So Cetrion once again resets time, this time with you being blessed to be her one and only true child. You literally carry a part of her divine essence now, so there is NO excuse for your actions now. She truly hopes that you'll be good this time, but if not she'll punish you like a parent must with an unruly child. As you grow up you find yourself constantly being observed and scrutinized. You don't know it though -she wants to see your true nature unfold. To see who you really are without the influence of your surroundings.

And once again. Once again you disappoint her. And you do so in the most hurtful of ways. You rebel against her, siding with the mortals and citing how cruel her treatment of them is. How evil she is to allow them to face the consequences of their actions. “My sweet, pure (Y/N).” She says, as you point your weapon at her. “I see that you've become just as tainted as those in the realms below. No matter, I will strike you down where you stand.” She lifts a hand towards you, charging up a powerful beam.

You get destroyed in the battle, laying in the ground of the celestial plane on the precipice of death. As she approaches your limp form you expect her to deliver the killing blow. But instead, she picks you up ever so gently. You're surprised at her tenderness and the genuine smile you see on your mother's face. Then you feel your body lurch downwards as you descend into the depths of the Netherrealm. You faint just before you recognize your new location though, too sapped of strength to stay conscious.

Little did you know, but the Netherrealm was about to become your new home for eons. Cetrion made sure of it, trapping you there with a seal only she could remove. If you wanted to be corrupt you could stay where all of the other wicked souls went. But unlike others, you wouldn't be free to wander in agony. She needs someone to thoroughly ingrain in your mind never to go against family. And perhaps, with enough time, you'd finally be cleansed of mortal sins to join her in the heavens again.

But for now, you'll be paying “Uncle” Shinnok and “Big Brother” Raiden a little visit.

#yandere cetrion #cetrion x reader #mortal kombat x reader #cetrion #x reader #my writings

9 notes · View notes