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punkpandapatrixk · 2 years

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☆°・. Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable? Well, Fuck You! .・°☆ | Punk Girl Culture

I don’t know who or when this started becoming a thing: get comfortable with being uncomfortable. I want to believe that whoever came up with that idea had nothing but good intentions—that is to say, they wanted to strengthen the spirit of young people; implement courage in their cowardly heart; and motivate them towards actualising their fullest potential.

Fine, I get it. I also want to appreciate that gesture. But the general idea itself... is so... sickeningly Human... You know, time and again, Humans with their glorification of mental suffering on top of physical pain for the display of dramatic rises to success blah blah blah…

They would say Diamonds at the end of the argument—those silly little Humans who like to use the analogy of a polished diamond to encourage increasing one's worth via pressure whilst... forgetting human beings are not rocks. Human beings are a lot gentler than calcified minerals. And there's so much more going on. And... and...

What, why? They make it sound like being content where you are is a sinful act. They say: get out of your comfort zone. But... why? If I'm comfortable with what I'm doing, what's so wrong with staying here? Wouldn't that make me a master of my art—

Oh...! It must be an issue of wording!

Or should I say, understanding?

If Life on a planet as bountiful and beautiful as Gaia isn’t supposed to be comfortable and lazy, then what’s the point of being here? Really, I think you never stopped to ponder that. Why have you come to an agreement that Life is only worthy if it has been lived so uncomfortably? Somebody really silly must have had immense power to condition your mind until you could only believe that Life is strive.

Oh! Right…

Wasn’t there a magical foetus whose entire family was so stupidly poor it eventually got born in a barn? And that story got passed down the generations, told in a manner that glorifies their discomfort, and everybody was made to agree that it was such a noble thing to have been so… uncomfortable; and you've joyously celebrated poverty and suffering ever since. They call it modesty.

Fuck that. I genuinely think it’s a fucking crime to tell a story like that. Those people are going straight to your subliminal and enslaving your mind with a backwards idea: get comfortable with being uncomfortable because it is noble. No Fae would be stupid enough to believe in poverty nor bad hygiene! The way we see it, the way Humans worship being miserable is laughable at best. At worst? Purely pathetic. No Fae would be gullible enough to agree that misery brings you closer to divinity.

But where was I again? Oh... right!

MAY

Every fairy’s a queen

When Maypoles spin around

And the sunlight dances

To May-music sound.

Every girl is a queen

When May’s golden notes sing

Through sunlight and laughter,

Every boy is a king.

— James Playsted Wood

Oh, shite… we’re already in June.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

🍃🪨🍄🧚🏻‍♂️

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armysantiny · 6 months

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you guys! fast food tastes sm better when you're not funding a genocide :)

#minnie rambles #boycott israel #boycott mcdonalds #chicken cottage is so good #walahi alhamdulillah there are sm halal options in my area/london as a whole #never have to go to the gilded goldon arches ever again #not like there was much for me to actually eat anyway

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spencerscookies · 1 year

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Bathroom Powder Room in Atlanta Example of a mid-sized transitional brick floor and gray floor powder room design with furniture-like cabinets, dark wood cabinets, gray walls and a trough sink

#wall sconce lamps #wainscoting #coastal cottage #palmetto bluff #gilded mirror #south carolina

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antiquatedplumbobs · 1 year

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Antiquated Brindleton

An 1890s Decades Challenge Save File

This save has been almost a year in the making, but it's finally here! It includes a completely rebuilt Brindleton Bay inspired by historic New England towns and set in the 1890s. This save uses a light amount of historical cc and most of the packs.

Download and details under the cut:

SAVE DETAILS:

Includes:

Eight new residential lots

Seven new community lots

Six new households

Builds and households are all located in Brindleton Bay. The world is intended to be historically accurate to about 1890, though some liberties for functionality have been taken.

Builds in other worlds have been deleted. The necessary buildings, like dorms, active career lots, and the high school, have all been left in place.

Townies have been evicted, but not deleted, as I prefer EA townies to fully randomized townies.

If you’d like more period appropriate townies to add, the lovely @jewishsimming has some great historical ones to download and @cowplant-snacks has an amazing tutorial on how to manage your townies with MCCC.

REQUIREMENTS: I have all the packs except Batuu and some of the kits. I didn’t limit myself when building. I don’t have everything listed out here, but I will be uploading all the lots and households to my gallery, so if you’d like to know specific pack usage you’ll be able to check there. If you load in and things are replaced or missing and you think it looks obvious feel free to message me, I’m always happy to try to help you find something else that fits! This save includes historical CC, some is included in my download in folders and some you will need to download from the creators directly. The CC required is listed and linked below, you need to download these linked pieces in ADDITION to the included cc folders.

CC To Download:

@lilis-palace

FOLKLORE Set

@s-imagination

Cottage Kitchen Stuff Pack

@happylifesims

1840s Suspenders Outfit

1900s Male Hunting Fashion

1920s Nightgown

Piteous Outfit

Sylas Fashion Set

Wilbur Outfit

@satterlly

Medieval Nightgown Della

@vroshii

Functional Tennis Set

@vampireloreskill

Antique Standing Camera

Creators Whose CC I Included:

@ameyasims (Better Than a Bush Outhouse, Victorian Swimwear)

@buzzardly28 (Multiple women’s hairs)

@chereindolente (Sacco Chore Coat, Edwardian Child Clothes)

@gilded-ghosts (Boudoir Belle, Victorian Visions, New Woman)

@jewishsimming (Off The Grid Objects, CAS items)

@linzlu (Assorted CAS and BB items)

@the-melancholy-maiden (Victorian Hair and Hat)

@nolan-sims (Potbelly Stove Set)

@pandorasimbox (Get To Church Pack, Azariah’s Sack Suit, Antique Slipper Tub, Heirloom Silhouette Portraits)

@peacemaker-ic (Simple Siding Wall Set, Luxurious Single Bedding V2)

@plumbobteasociety (Some BB and CAS items from the Cottage Garden Pack, HSL Happy Birthday Set)

@twentiethcenturysims (Langtree Hair, Historical High Chair, Quilts for Kids)

@waxesnostalgic (Sportswear Separates, Peterpan Bodysuit)

Thank you to all of these wonderful creators, your historical cc creations make this game a million times better to play and I appreciate all of you so very much. Recommended but not required mods:

Timeless by @pandorasimbox

Default Map Replacements by Deshayan (if you’d like your map to look like mine does in the preview)

Victorian NPC Replacements and Llama Scouts Historical Replacements by @cowplant-snacks

Home Regions by Kuttoe

DOWNLOAD: There are five zipped folders to download, four of which contain included cc, and one which includes the save itself.

Download the "AB_SaveFile" folder, unzip it and simply move the file inside to your saves folder inside your Sims 4 folder (where your mods folder is located).

The included cc is in four folders (to allow for easier upload/download) for build, buy, clothing, and hair. Simply download the folders, unzip them, and place them in your mods folder.

After this you should be good to load up your game and get playing, let me know if you run into any issues, I'm happy to try to troubleshoot. SFS | Google Drive THANK YOU: To all my amazing testers: @epistolarysims @aheathen-conceivably @cowplant-snacks and especially @simadelics who edited my household and build descriptions.

If you use this save file, please tag me in any photos you take, I want to see them all!! This save has been my baby for so very long and I cannot wait to see what you all do with it!

@maxismatchccworldrld @mmoutfittersters

#ts4 save file #sims 4 save file #save file #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 build #sims 4 build #ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 history challenge #antiquatedbrindleton

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shadowflorecita · 4 months

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Elain x Azriel

This dazzling art is by my wonderful, skilled, hardworking friend @moshimoichi, and I am so thankful for the time & care she dedicated in creating this beautiful commission for me.

Please do not repost, reblogs are welcome & appreciated! 🖤🌸

Below the cut is a little ficlet to accompany this sweet moment.

𖥧⚘𖤣𖡼

The sunlight was a steady stream, gilding the cottage in a summer morning radiance. Sparrows sang their cheerful melody as they flitted from branch to branch of the fruit trees, more birds joining in the chorus as they awakened.

Elain and Azriel had created a shared routine to rise early and witness the sunrise together. Sometimes they were tangled in each other, all tousled hair and sheets askew, watching the daybreak from the windows of their bedroom. Sometimes they were on the balcony cuddled in comfortable silence. And sometimes they shared Elain's favorite meal of the day in the garden. The most important meal, as she often reminded the Shadowsinger.

It wasn't a previous habit for Azriel to take time to eat slowly and savor a breakfast. Aside from official court gatherings or traditional family dinners, he usually had his meals on the go; quick and fuss-free. Boiled and peeled eggs, slices of toast, links of sausage, anything that could be eaten within a short amount of time or as he flew to his destinations.

Since spending more time with Elain, he found he rather enjoyed a moment to sit down with her for a meal. He indulged in her quiches and pastries, sweet and savory alike. The creations she orchestrated in the kitchen were some of the most delicious food he had ever tasted. He delighted in settling beside Elain, her eyes wandering his face, gauging his reactions to her cooking. They often mirrored each other's expressions, communicating in their secret language.

Azriel helped himself to the food on his plate, chewing slowly and luxuriating in the buttery flavors. He was fully armored today, prepared for a swift reconnaissance mission with Cassian. They would scout the coasts of the mortal lands, keeping a lookout for any odd activity, armed to the teeth and prepared for anything. Especially after the events earlier in the Spring with Briallyn and Koschei. If all went well, Azriel would reassign his spies back to the lands to remain as the Night Court's eyes and ears, ready to report if trouble transpired.

Beside him, with her legs draped lazily over his lap as she leaned against the bench with Azriel's free arm around her, Elain sipped her tea. She reveled in the nearness of him. It was not long ago that Elain had stormed into Rhysand's office on an early morning just like this one. The light of dawn was still peeking into the windows of the river house study when Elain threw open the doors, prowled to Rhysand's desk, her teeth bared with fury and demanded that the high lord understand that she had every right to gift her affections to whom she wanted. Without his unwelcome scheming.

Feyre and Rhysand had froze then. A stack of parchments fell from Feyre's hands all over the desk and Elain would forever remember the panicked look on Rhys's face once Feyre whirled and began snarling at him, viciously recalling Rhysand's own promise that Elain would be wholly protected in Velaris should she choose to reject the suppressive cauldron forged bond.

There were countless times Elain had been thankful to Feyre and filled with pride for her sister's tenacity for justice, but this moment immediately became one of her favorites. Feyre was a mother now, and the protective essence of an irate wild bear shone in her eyes and the scrunch of her nose. The image would remain in Elain's memory for the rest of her immortal life.

Elain triumphantly left the study and took the appropriate course of action with Lucien that very day to formally reject the bond. Lucien was... thankfully relieved. Elain had known that Lucien had a blossoming love of his own for the red haired human queen Vassa, but Elain would no longer politely wait for him to gather the courage to take action. She was an Archeron, and trembling fawn aside, like her sisters, she was also a fanged beast. The resolve to fight for what she desired for herself was enough for Elain to bravely face all consequence and cost.

It was a liberation, for that odd and misplaced link to go permanently dark. She understood the lifeless thread would always remain, but she felt like she wholly belonged to herself once again. Lucien took Elain by surprise by declaring an everlasting oath to never call in a blood duel against anyone Elain chose to spend her life with. She in turn, graced him with thanks and blessings for his own journey of the heart. Afterward, Elain immediately went to Azriel, explaining her actions, her heart, and her wish to never leave his side. If he would allow it.

The teacup clinking against the ceramic plate tugged Elain from her memories as Azriel finished the last of his tea. She had particularly enjoyed learning how he liked his tea- cinnamon bark and orange peel was his usual brew. He was also fond of peppermint.

"Regretfully, it is time I must be off."

The pair stood from the bench, their dishes whisked inside the cottage by Azriel's shadows. Elain was pleased that he had helped himself to two servings of quiche. She brushed off the crumbs from his polished plackhart into the graveled path. He was the epitome of a heroic and unvanquished knight, his dark armor and fastened weapons at a complimentary contrast with the bright, delicate blooms of their garden.

Azriel peered down at her, his inky curls brushing against his brows in the way Elain was so fond of. She reached up to run her fingers through it, overwhelmed with the need to always be touching him. Azriel beamed, pulling her into his arms and kissed her reverently on the soft skin of her earlobe. Then both cheeks, her chin, her lips, ending his affectionate conquest by softly nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. Elain shuddered at his touches, the feel of home as his mouth and scarred hands roved over her. She peered into his hazel eyes, the colors glittering the way sunshine dances upon the surface of the Sidra.

So long ago this moment felt like an impossible dream yet here it was, real and palpable and hers. Elain's heart fluttered with gratitude and awe as she stroked Azriel's strong jaw, the tiniest prickles scrubbing her palm.

Azriel read the thoughts reflected in her eyes, felt them in the special way he was always able to. His hands squeezed her waist, pressing his lips to hers. Hesitant to pull away, his wings lightly enveloped them, the sun now peeking over his broad shoulders.

"I miss you already. I will think of you every moment until I see you again" he murmured.

Elain chuckled, a roll of her eyes and subtle shake of the head "You won't be gone long, I will see you for dinner! I hope everything goes well."

Azriel grinned, his hidden dimples revealing themselves. "Whether I am away for an hour or a full day or a month, you are always on my mind Elain. You and that lovely smile of yours. I will see you this evening."

Elain's expression was soft, her doe-like eyelashes fluttering "Until then" she said.

"Until then" Azriel nodded, and after one last kiss to her hand, took a few steps down the garden path and launched himself into the sky, the breeze from his wings caressing her. As he flew into the clouds to meet his brother, Elain scattered a silent "Be safe, my darling" to the winds.

--✿--

Thank you for reading! A very special thank you to @tealeaves-and-rosepetals for helping with proofreading & edits, I really appreciate your endless kindness and encouragement!

Feliz año nuevo friends 💕

#elriel #elriel art #pro elriel #elain and azriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #sjm #acotar art

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gigiberry · 8 months

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1930s Loookbook

After the roaring 20s, fashion became more conservative in the 1930s, with hair and hemlines getting longer again. The era was defined by the great depression, after the stock market crashed in 1929, and lasted through almost the whole decade. Many families during this time began making dresses from flour sacks, and so companies began printing textiles on the sacks for extra reusability. Despite the decade's widespread poverty, fashion themes of femininity and elegance prevailed, inspired by Hollywood stars like Joan Crawford.

Check out my other lookbooks: 2010s, 2000s, 1990s, 1980s, 1970s, 1960s, 1950s, 1940s

Look 1: hat, hair, coat, tights, shoes Look 2: hat, suit, shoes Look 3: hat, hair, coat, gloves (bg), tights, shoes Look 4: hair, necklace, dress, shoes Look 5: hair, earrings, dress, tights, shoes Look 6: hair, necklace (bg), dress Look 7: hair, glasses (bg), outfit, shoes Look 8: hair, dress, tights, shoes Look 9: hair (bg), top, pants, shoes Look 10: hat, hair, earrings (bg), necklace (cottage living), dress, gloves (bg), tights, shoes Look 11: hair, earrings (bg), outfit, tights, shoes Look 12: hair, outfit, socks (bg), shoes

Thanks to the awesome cc creators: @greenllamas @zurkdesign @sims4sue @moon-simmers @birksche @sentate @theslyd @happylifesims @linzlu @madlensims @batsfromwesteros @philosimy @standardheld @twentiethcenturysims @waxesnostalgic @vroshii @gilded-ghosts @madlensims @aharris00britney @plumbobteasociety @wistfulpoltergeist @mlyssimblr @heartspice @renorasims @pxelboy @ivo-sims

#ts4 #ts4 cc #ts4 lookbook #ts4 cc finds #ts4 maxis match #maxis match #the sims 4 #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 history challenge #ts4 1930s #ts4 30s #ts4 cas #sims 4 lookbook #sims4 #sims 4 cc #gigiberry #ts4 retro #ts4 vintage

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epigstolary · 5 months

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The Middle of Nowhere, Part Two

I once said that my feeder didn’t have to do anything to keep me on his farm. That I was building my own prison there, bite by bite. And that’s still true — but only partly true. The farm may be a long way away from anything — town, other people, even the road that’s our only real connection to society — and it may as well be a desert island for someone too big to drive a car or walk further than the yard, but it isn’t my prison. Because my prison isn’t a place.

Things started to change when it got difficult even to go outside to our porch. I don’t mean they changed with my feeder; he was still as caring and doting as ever. He started bringing me my snacks once I got big enough that just shuffling out the front door took all my energy and attention. I had to watch where I placed every step of my bloated legs, laden with fat that looked like bags of cottage cheese, and hold on to the walls and the railing along the porch to keep my belly and chest fat from sloshing sideways and pulling me over. Even those few steps left me breathless and my heart pounding by the time I got settled on my bench; but it was worth it to have a plate of his biscuits and gravy or chicken and dumplings, under that big sky beyond our little farm, gilded with another sunset. And even when my bench finally gave way after one too many helpings of both, he dusted off his woodworking kit and put it back together, reinforced and better than new.

But by then, we both knew it was only a temporary fix. It wouldn’t be long before there’d be no way I could maneuver myself out there every day, and he could tell how being cooped up inside would drive me crazy after a while. If I was going to do anything other than sit mostly alone on the couch all day, we were going to have to find another way.

His first innovation was to invite people over for dinner — farmhands, friends, folks he knew from town that he could get to come to me even if I couldn’t go to them. And they were good company, in a lot of ways; they’d bring a taste of the outside world with them. They might talk about how the crops were doing, recount some recent anecdote from working out in the fields or going into town, opine on some petty local politics or gossip. And it was nice to hear about something other than what was going on within the confines of our little farm — an outside world that it was increasingly impossible for me to get to. But really, it was hard for the focus not to turn around to me. Nobody was ever rude the first time they met me; but it was rare not to see either a reaction of stifled surprise, or else a glassy look of unseeing, a conscious attempt not to notice the half-ton of fat flowing and bulging out of my ill-fitting clothes.

It didn’t help that, with me never leaving the farm, there weren’t many topics of conversation other than myself and food that our guests could engage with me about. When the conversation didn’t turn to recent meals or my favorite foods, which usually elicited at least warm agreement about the country staples forming much of my diet, it turned to how I spent most of my day. We’d do our usual face-saving song and dance about what I did to take care of the house while my partner was out working in the field — all of it lies, and increasingly transparent lies as my limited ability to even move became more obvious at higher weights — and how I was getting ready to start losing some weight. I’d talk about how I really wanted to get healthier, get out and about more often; and they’d smile and nod, giving tepid approval and encouragement.

The thing is, I really did mean it. I really did want to get down to a size where I could at least walk around outside again, maybe even drive a car into town and go to the little greasy spoon like I used to. It was becoming discouraging to have every step, every reach, every movement blocked or restrained by the fat smothering every inch of my body. But our guests knew full well I didn’t have a prayer of keeping to a diet or an exercise routine. It was even more obvious to those who’d visited before, and who saw me even more bloated, even more out of shape than the last time they were there.

The actual meals certainly made them think that, if they hadn’t before. My partner would serve a spread fit for a dozen people — something like a barbecue buffet, a whole turkey with all the fixings, a tray of lasagna — and I’d end up eating everything that was left after the others had their fill. Long after their places had been cleared away, I’d still be gobbling up the heaping plates my partner would keep bringing me until every scrap of food was gone. Since I couldn’t last very long at the dining table anymore, usually we’d sit around the living room, and they would basically watch me gorge myself — tits and chins wobbling as I’d chew, plate sitting on my enormous belly so my blubbery arms could rest on the sweep of my side rolls while I cut and speared each bite. It was obvious to everyone, I guess even to me, that I was never going to drop a pound if I couldn’t resist completely abandoning myself to food like that. By the end of the meal, I’d be stuffed full, taking up the entire couch and looking enormous, almost too drowsy from overeating to notice the expressions passing between our guests, their looks of amusement or disgust or astonishment at what was apparently a typical dinner for me. Sometimes they’d even whisper about it, thinking I was asleep. I wasn’t.

From the front window of the house, I could watch them drive away, taillights receding toward that distant road where proper civilization began again. Probably recapping the dinner and my obscene size and appetite with horrified amazement. They’d been merely passing through, tourists in my isolated bubble, visiting their friend’s or boss’s blob of a partner out of courtesy but with no real desire to bring me into the fold. They could make things more tolerable, but they’d never be any real help in connecting with the world again.

Then one day, my partner’s beat-up old pickup disappeared, and he pulled into the yard in a gleaming new one, looking unusually excited for him and expectantly at me. I was puzzled — by that point, I was already too big to heave myself up into the cab of any pickup. But then I saw the truck bed — more specifically, the crane and winch rising from the front corner. My stomach did a somersault at the sight of him rigging up a harness meant for lifting cows and pigs into the bed; it was a way to let me get off the farm, sure, but at a pretty steep price in dignity. It was as good as an admission that I’d eaten myself far too fat to rejoin the world like a normal person, probably for good.

But the temptation to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was too much. A day or two later, my partner was helping me waddle out the front door and down the steps toward the driveway. Months indoors had obscured just how much my body had changed in even that short amount of time. My legs had both bloated considerably and weakened since my last walk through the yard, making every step like having to lift heavy bags of molasses just to advance a few inches at a time. My belly hung lower and broader than I remembered, physically holding back my steps and making it harder to twist my upper body to steady my walk. My side rolls and bicep blubber fought one another for space, pushing my arms up and sending fat bunching around my neck and shoulders. I was an out-of-breath mess by the time I maneuvered myself around and collapsed into the harness.

The sensation of my weight being lifted slowly off the ground, suspended and moved by an object completely out of my control, sent a surreal thrill through me. My hundreds of pounds, cradled in the harness, wobbled and jiggled with its slow movements, and for the most part I had no choice but to be carried along with my body’s jostling inertia. Even more than usual, I was buried under my immense belly and tits, my bloated legs were lifted level with the rest of my body, and my flab-laden arms — if they’d even been strong enough to do anything — had nowhere to grasp to help stabilize my sloshing bulk. The crane and winch cracked and creaked as it labored to move my weight, lifted me over the sides and into position facing the tailgate, and lowered me onto some foam padding my partner had arranged into a kind of makeshift couch against the rear window. I didn’t fill the truck bed — but there wasn’t room to sit next to me, either.

I’ve never felt a mixture of emotions like I did on that first drive back into town. On the one hand, it felt so amazingly free — finding myself on that once impossibly-distant road, our farm receding into the distance as fields and hills sped by. Fresh air, and the wind in my hair. But then, as buildings grew closer together and we started rolling into downtown, my blood ran cold — I’m a half-ton blob taking up most of the back of a pickup truck, too fat to walk or move, coming to town like a circus attraction, I thought. People were going to react.

I’m sure a lot of it was in my mind. I’m sure I was self-conscious, reading intent into every glance and word and gesture, most of the time when it wasn’t there. But it felt like every last person in the town had turned out to stare at my huge form being paraded down main street. Me looking out over the expanse of lard occupying the truck bed and smothering my body. Blubber sloshing uncontrollably every time we turned a corner. Kids pointing at the enormous fatty passing by, their shouts being stifled by nervous and disgusted parents. Skinny people casting sideways glances at the pickup, stopped at a stoplight, as they muttered to each other amid broad grins.

And that was when I realized. It didn’t matter where I was — on the farm, in town, on stage with a million people watching. I had let myself get fattened past the point where I could exist in this world and connect with it ever again. Even when I was right in the middle of it, I was as far removed from these people as if I’d still been back on the farm. I’m never going to be walking around with them, shopping with them, just existing in the spaces they exist in. I literally don’t fit in, even if I could haul around all the blubber I’ve accumulated under my own power. And I’m just as alien to them — someone five times their weight, who can’t control their appetite any better than to get this big, someone they can deride or pity or judge with impunity.

On the drive back to the farm, under a starry indigo sky and with a backseat full of fast food from the town’s only chain, I had to wonder about my feeder. Whether he really was trying to get me out of the house. Or did he know? Had he already figured out that I was too big for it to matter where I was — that the thick rolls dominating my body and the sacks of fat hanging off my limbs would keep me his, even if I’d tried to get someone to help me leave? That this drive would do nothing more than to show me a world, a life, that my fat — his fat — would never let me go back to?

The thought lodged in the back of my mind as he gently helped hoist me, every inch wobbling and quivering, out of the truck bed. He led my bulk, step by exhausted step, back inside and to my usual divot on the couch. And as he got me comfortable, spreading the buffet of greasy, fatty food out before me, and as I bit into the first of ten thick double cheeseburgers, his too-kind smile and his gaze that lingered on my bulging gut for an instant too long told me everything I needed to know.

The farm isn’t my prison. My body is.

#extreme weight gain #weight gain fiction #ssbhm #feeder fiction #gainerfiction #gaining #gainer fiction #wg story #wg fiction #gainer stories

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cherrysha · 1 month

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Craving

Pairing: Vampire!Phinks x Reader

A/N: this was supposed to be short but it kinda got out of hand...also wanna thank True Blood for the whole 'vampire blood as an aphrodisiac' thing.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning: Blood, Death, Allusions to Sex, (Phinks could be seen as yandere in this piece)

Hunger. Its the first thing he notices when he opens his eyes. All consuming, bubbling and burning away at his stomach to the point he feels sick. It’d only been a few days since Phinks ate, although the meal itself was more of a snack. He hadn't had the luxury of gorging himself, seeing as he was on the road and there were very few people passing by at that hour in the night.

He had resigned himself to emptying the veins of someone in a nearby village; although they were poor and Phink’s meal reflected that. Instead of the nutrient dense blood he was accustomed to, this man’s had the viscosity of water and left Phinks barely satiated.

At the moment, he wanted to roll over and satisfy his empty stomach with you. It was the easiest option, and he knew your blood to be of high quality; ensured it even, but the last time he fed from you, without slaking his overwhelming emptiness on someone else first, was all too fresh in his mind. Your hollowed eyes and exhausted body had shaken him to his core. Even now he can see your gaunt face flicker through his mind in warning.

Slowly, Phinks rose from the bed, whisper quiet as all of his kind were, before leaving your little cottage just as quietly.

The walk into the city would’ve taken a normal man hours. For Phinks it was barely long enough to reorient himself. The moon shone brightly on the weathered path, casting shadow in the ditches that wagon wheels had left in the dried earth. It had to be close to midnight, although the passage of time seemed torturously fast to him, he’d gotten acquainted with telling it through the cycles of the moon. Phinks had one more week with you before he had to report back to the troupe. He loathed leaving you, the easiest solution being to take you with him, but the idea of any other of his kind looking upon you, drinking from you, was abhorrent to him. No, bringing you with him opened up the possibility that he’d be forced to share; An idea he wasn’t keen on.

The routine of finding his first meal was easy enough. The streets were packed on warm summer nights such as this. People eager to partake in festivities that hadn’t enticed him for nearly a century. There were brothels, bars, and other unscrupulous places to choose from; but Phinks preferred to choose from the nearly empty buildings in the city.

A rich apartment complex had been built in the heart of town, over the sea of shantytowns that had, at one point, choked off the streets. Now, all that stood were regal, gilded buildings. The residents weren’t his target, no, they’d draw too much suspicion. He craved a filling meal and knew the guards would be all too easy. They were paid enough to be loyal, and that in turn meant they were fed well. He’d just have to set the scene.

Phinks enters the bar a little ways down the street from his targets as he does all things; with an air of smug arrogance that he’s been unable to shake since before he was undead. He fits in with the crowd, so much so that he’s not even questioned as he asks for an entire bottle of whiskey. As long as he’s got the coin to spare it doesn’t seem that the bartender cares. All to Phinks’ benefit. He empties half the bottle on the cobbled streets before returning to his hunt. He’d only need about half of it anyway, and knew better than to drink the swill himself.

No, the last time he’d tried drinking alcohol he’d vomited so much that Shalnark still mocked him for it. He hadn’t been a heavy drinker before turning, but he’d wanted a touch of normalcy. Food and drink tasted like ash in his throat, yet sweets and alcohol were the worst offenders. The memory makes Phinks grimace, quickening his steps as he heads down the road.

It takes mere moments before two guards are cornered in a dimly lit alley and Phinks snaps both of their necks. He didn’t want to cause any injuries that would spill his dinner onto the dirty cobblestone. He was too smart for that. Instead, he drank his fill before snatching one of their pistols. He aimed, pointing at one guard’s chest and the other’s head before firing. The whiskey was easily dumped into their open mouths and he used the rest to douse them. The bottle clinked against the ground as he admired his work. A late night brawl between the two would draw less attention than finding them dead with their veins sucked dry. The last thing he wanted was a monster hunter on his trail. Phinks quickly emptied their pockets before leaving. You could use the money. Buy yourself something good to eat that, he too, could enjoy.

By the time the moon hung bright in the sky, he’d drank enough to calm his stomach, although his mind was still racing. With his new meal came euphoria, the feeling accompanying the quenching of his hunger. It was during this time that his thoughts inevitably returned back to you.

He knew running full speed back to you was a waste of energy, but he did so anyway. The night was too perfect, the sky too peaceful to want to be anywhere but by your side.

He judged by the moon that he must make it back in record time. Maybe a quarter past one if he had to guess. It’d be around this time that you’d start to fidget in your sleep, maybe even wake yourself up in preparation to fulfill his needs. You did so every night, and although he spurned you by ignoring your requests to feed, tonight he’d indulge.

—

“It’s time.” Phinks calls to you, his curt tone belying a hint of annoyance that he didn’t truly feel. Unbeknownst to you he’d spent far too long just taking in your peaceful form, intent on studying the rise and fall of your chest that felt completely foreign to him at his age. Was there a time when he breathed like that? Out of sheer necessity instead of just having the instinctual urge from time to time? Phinks had copied your movements, breathing in sync with you as you dozed under the clear sky. He found that he enjoyed it, if not just for his senses being assaulted by your smell. He’d even leaned in closer to the juncture of your neck, had breathed in deeply and relished in the scent of blood pulsing just beneath your skin. The smell was exquisite, but what made his mouth water was how he was engulfed in a scent that was undeniably you.

You stir, groaning as you try to sit up, to gather yourself and answer his call. You knew him well enough now that ignoring him and continuing to sleep was not the best idea. Slowly, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before obediently waiting.

“We’re going outside.”

“Why?”

“So many fucking questions. Can’t you just do as you’re told for once?” His answer was sharp, as it always was, but lucky for him you’d just nodded. Gathering yourself before standing.

The night air was crisp, yet still comfortable. You’d even brought a blanket to shield yourself from the dew on the grass. Phinks grimaced at the thing. In truth, he was angered that he hadn’t thought of it, but yet he found the thin fabric to be an annoyance.

He’d made you come outside multiple times, enjoyed the way the moonlight danced along your skin, but to you, he’d always said feeding under the moon was less claustrophobic when he deigned to answer.

You sit, legs folded underneath you as you angle yourself to peer up at Phinks. He, in all restraint, moves slowly to sit in front of you, legs wide and inviting as he reaches for something at his belt.

The knife glints in the light, sharp and dangerous, and you felt your stomach roiling.

“We, we don’t have to do that tonight, Phinks.”

“But don’t I?” He growled, “You always cry if I don’t” there was a stunning truth to his words, a truth that had you nodding along in acquiescence as he pressed the blade to his open palm.

The sharp pinch was nothing to him; a slight irritant in an otherwise perfect night. An annoyance he was willing to bear for your comfort, although he’d never admit to it.

With no words spoken, you kneeled on the ground before him, letting the warmth of his blood slip past your lips and down your throat with moan. It tasted good, fresh. The tang of it reminding you of ripe fruit, of summer and sweetness that belied the stoic expression of the man in front of you. Phinks resisted the moan that was building in his chest at the sensation of your full lips wrapped around him, drinking him in so greedily it caused hunger to stir in his stomach once more. Your desire was his own, magnified and heightened by the blood slipping down your jaw and onto your neck, pooling on the white fabric of your nightgown. Phinks smiles at the sight of you tainted by him. As you should be.

“So fuckin’ messy.” He tuts, his free hand wrapping around your jaw as he pulls you into his lap. It’s quick, as all of his movements are, but he slows down as he licks a stripe up your neck, cleaning you with his tongue before covering your mouth with his own.

It doesn’t take long before he’s prying you away from him, ignoring the whimpers that echo through the cool night air. You land on your back, legs immediately splaying open in invitation. Phinks takes a moment to consider you, soft hair and even softer eyes as you stare at him pleadingly. So well trained. He doesn’t have to cajole you to open up, to accept what he’s offering you, what he’s taking. In part, he knows it to be the effect of his blood, but on nights like this it was easy to fool himself into thinking the searing affection he had for you was reciprocal in nature.

Phinks kisses his way up, following the veins marking the path to his next meal, his lips press behind your leg before stopping at the apex of your thighs. He finds that he quite likes breathing, likes the smell of you in his lungs, just as he likes the taste of you in his mouth. He remembers the first time he’d done this. Taken from your pliant body by force. No, his blood wasn’t necessary anymore but it made these shared moments all the more sweet. When he bites down its with enough force to make your legs shut on instinct, to rip a whimper from your lips. Phinks knows its not painful in your current state, can see the proof of your arousal glistening in the moonlight.

He indulges. Lets his mind wander on thoughts of you as he drinks you deep. Hopes he can engorge himself on the very essence of you. He craves it, an itch in the back of his mind that won’t go away; to consume, to be consumed, until neither you nor him can be separated. He fills his lungs with your scent, ears attuned to the soft whimper of your voice, mouth latched onto your femoral artery and he thinks that this could be enough.

The air around you shivers with the whine that leaves your mouth once he finishes. Over the past year you’d learned to find pleasure in the pain, learned to crave the feeling even. His mouth leaving your bloodied skin was a denial of that pleasure, the hollow ache in your chest incomparable to the mark he’d left on your skin.

Again, Phinks reprimands you for being so greedy, for wanting even when he was willing to give. But right now his prize was staring back at him; lust blown pupils trained on his every move as he slinked his way back up your body.

He tastes himself on your tongue. To him, its a bitter tang compared to the sweetness of your blood, but he enjoys it all the same. Enjoys swallowing your moans, sounds made solely for his ears and his alone. He wonders in times like this if you ever regret letting him through the threshold of your tiny home. Allowing him entry when you were too clueless to know you’d dragged home a half dead, and malnourished, vampire.

He smirks at the memory of it. Of your fear, your helplessness as he pinned you down and nearly drank you dry. The only reason he’d stopped was the severity of his injuries. At the time, he had planned to use you as one does a cow for milk. Letting you rest until you’d regained enough blood to nurse him back to health. He’d hadn’t fallen asleep more than twenty minutes before a stake was driven through his chest, high enough that it wasn’t lethal, but deep enough to betray your courage, and he’d fallen for you just as easily as the stake had been pulled out.

Now you were a supplicant at his altar, open and inviting as the pink stain of your feast on his blood betrayed you. As your actions betrayed you. You were his, in every way that mattered, your spirit was intertwined with his own.

“Please Phinks. I need you.” Your pupils are dilated, breath heaving as you beg for him. For all of him.

His tone is dry, an honest smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he replies, “Of course you do.”

#phinks x reader #phinks magcub x reader #yandere phinks

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muckleberryjam · 8 months

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There's no denying that Cottage Living is my favourite pack, so it was only a matter of time that I made over Kim. She's so sweet and, in my head, very Welsh.

Funnily enough, I always want to type Kim Woodburn instead of Kim Goldbloom, but that'd be a very different lookbook...

kim wears • half up, plait and hair down (@simstrouble)

farmers market • shirt & vest (@rustys-cc) • skirt (ea horse ranch) • necklace (@whisterias) • bracelet (@magic-bot) • shoes (@jius-sims)

gardner's world • dungarees (brianitesims) • hat (@solistair)

ciggies at dawn, or: get off my land • nightie (@serenity-cc) • cardigan (marigold) • socks (@kismet-sims) • slippers (@jius-sims)

lily of the valley girl • dress (@gilded-ghosts) • earrings (@christopher067) • necklace (@simandy) • shoes (@ridgeport)

blush response • dress (@serenity-cc) • flowers (@oydis) • necklace (@arethabee)

tfw your sock rolls down into your shoe • jacket (@dogsill) • jeans (@rustys-cc) • hat (@serenity-cc) • shirt collar (@liliili-sims4) • necklace (@diosasims) • socks (ea basegame) • shoes (@darte77)

#kim goldbloom #townie makeover #ts4lookbook #maxis match #maxis mix #ts4ccfinds #ts4mm #ts4 premades #cottage living #lookbook

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txnarisims · 11 months

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Timeless Thai Lookbook

Note : * (In game items)

General : Hair 1* | Hair 2 | Hair 3,6 (Vega hair) | Hair4 | Hair 5 (WINGS_HAIR_ER0408)

🌺 Look #1 (1820s) : Top / Female sarong / Shoes* / Belt and Sangwan 🌺Look #2 (1900s) : Top (VV_JacketIII) / Pants / Necklace (Dimitrescu Pearl necklace) / Earring / Shoes

🌺Look #3 (Northern Thai 1900s) : Top(VV_ShirtwaistI) / Long skirt (bottom) / Necklace(Audrey collar) / Earring / Sangwan (BODY-ACC-RING-RIGHT) / Shoes* / Hair accessories

🌺 Look #4 (1920s) : Blouse(Olivia brocade) / Long skirt (bottom) / Earring (Alice earring) Necklace (Choker_Volindur_F) / Headband [1] (Hat) [2] (Bracelet option) / Bracelet / Shoes* (Cottage Living EP)

🌺 Look #5 (1940s) : Top (Tie Ribbon Blouse) / Bottom (Pei Skirt) / Hat (BigHeatBeret) / Shoes (lissa shoes)

🌺 Look #6 (Northern Thai Wedding outfit) : Blouse (Magnolia top) / Long skirt (belt with bottom) / Earring* / Sangwan (Nose ring option) / Hair accessories / Breast cloth (Sabai | สไบ) / Shoes*

In Siam late1860s -1910s (aka called Thailand), The royal court inspired of European fashion and mixed Victorian blouse fit to traditional pants at that time. So I found some of google photos searching keyword “ Queen RAMA V ” they gave me an idea to choose Pose and Umbrella for women character in Thai renaissance period.

✨ Thanks to all gorgeous cc creators ✨ @serenity-cc @sentate @rustys-cc @gilded-ghosts @javitrulovesims @marsmerizing-sims @ommosims @glitterberrysims @pralinesims @bedisfull @zurkdesign @arethabee and others are not currently in tumblr.

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lyralit · 2 years

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ꜰɪꜰᴛʏ ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪᴘ

a modern-day city: flashy signs, culture, people

a countryside town: farms, markets, fresh air

a school: students, uniforms, classes

a small house: shared rooms, large meals, family games

a large house: empty halls, quiet nights, loneliness

a swim meet: slick floors, loud whistles, team cheers

a workplace: offices, papers, chaos

a blog: curated posts, a careful eye, also chaos

a government facility: taps of shoes, brisk orders, sharpness

a farm: fields and haystacks, ladders, checkered tablecloths

a ship: the sunset on water, crashing waves, sliding cutlery

a ball: swishing gowns, champagne flutes, lilting music

a club: the press of bodies, pounding music, hoarse voices

a kid's party: a character appearance, ice-cream cake, colourful balloons and stacks of presents

a medieval castle: rich silks, red wine, bustling people

a cottage in the woods: soft birdsong, quiet chores, open lake

a space station: dark abyss, beeping machines, emptiness

a superhero facility: training grunts, advanced tech, posters

a football game: spotlights, cheers, divided colours

a movie theatre: quiet giggles, spilled popcorn, sticky hands

a tennis match: bonk, bonk, bonk

a dingy basement: a lighter, a coil of rope, a can of oil

a restaurant (customer): close tables, quiet chatter, That One Screaming Kid

a restaurant (worker): stacking orders, clinking coins, greasy floors

a flower shop: cloying sweetness, dampness, the crinkle of plastic

a grocery store: the squeal of cart wheels, scrape of boxes, crackle of the announcements

a witch hut: bubbling cauldron, bright potions in round bottles, funky jars of ingredients

a bakery: fresh bread, tinkling bells, morning sun

a ruin: dust, beating sun, crumbling rock

a wedding: smashed cake, white lace, cheers

a cliff: crashing waves, swaying reeds, sharp rocks

a concert: nicest clothes, gilded halls, the sound of music

a bank vault: beeping alarms, flashing lights, piles of coins

a sauna: slick tiles, misted mirrors, stifling air

a mine: scuttling rocks, the clank of picks, cool breeze

a cruise ship: bouncy music, sound of laughter, ocean wind

a diner: neon lights, booths, milkshakes with a straw and cherry

a garden: soft breeze, shifting leaves, green flowers

a graveyard: crunch of stones, eerie lighting, the whisper of trees

a house party: clink of glasses, soft voices, flowery perfume

a family dinner: roaring laughter, grabby children, sense of warmth

a foreign planet: rising smoke, hissing steps, green faces

a prison: scratches on walls, thumps of boots, creaking of cots

a jungle: cry of birds, rustling of trees, patter of rain

a gaming room: click of keyboards, flash of lights, scroll of mouses

a forest: howl of wolves, whistle of wind, crunch of underbrush

a waiting room: tick of the clock, tapping of feet, flip of magazines

a lounge: jazzy music, gilded mirrors, plush chairs

a sporting event: cheering crowds, bags of snacks, flashing videos

a fantasyland: roar of dragons, clank of metal armour, thump of horse hooves

#story settings #lyralit #writerblr #creative writing #writers #writblr #writing #writers block #writing ideas #writing prompts #readerblr #writing prompt

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telekinetictrait · 9 months

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he'll wish he had that son!

hello everyone have this completely random victorian sim for download (first house dress is the one included as everyday) on this completely random day!

uses items from: vampires, seasons, cottage living, and vintage glamour.

cc used linked under the cut, as well as the download and creator tags.

cc you need to download SEPARATELY will be bolded and italicized

twistedcat's poise eyebrows / hazelminesims' maple hair / sunivaa's sofi hair / linzlu's calico dress / gilded-ghosts' ever elegant blouse v2 / gilded-ghosts' perfectly plain skirt v2 / ms-marysims' ida blouse / gilded-ghosts perfectly plain skirt v2 / renorasims' wicked blouse / vintagesimstress's working girl skirt / lilis-palace's seasons of ladies hats - fall / sentate's elphaba dress / gilded-ghosts' victorian visions hat / gilded-ghosts' victorian visions walking suit / linzlu's colonial caps / vintagesimstress's 1884 bathing suit / eirflower's bain de soleil bathing shoes / vintagesimstress's 1890 elegant dress / dancemachinetrait's pemberly collection gloves and stockings / vintagesimstress's working girl top / gilded-ghosts perfectlyplain skirt v2 / simsverses' winter hat with feathers conversion / mlyssimblr's pufferhead scarf / kaguya-fox's abigail dress / kedluu's ankle boots

kijiko's ea eyelash remover + 3d lashes v2 / andersimblr's motive skinblend

thank you to @twisted-cat @hazelminesims @sunivaa @linzlu @gilded-ghosts @ms-marysims @renorasims @vintagesimstress @lilis-palace @sentate @eirflower @dancemachinetrait @simsverse @mlyssimblr @kaguya-fox @kedluu @kijiko-sims @kedluu @twentiethcenturysims @antiquatedplumbobs and @allhistoricalcc

DOWNLOAD LISBETH HERE (sfs) or HERE (mediafire)!

#my sims #sims 4 lookbook #ts4 lookbook #sim download #sim for download #victorian sims #ts4 victorian #sims 4 victorian

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blueshistorysims · 5 months

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Lookbook for the now adult Giselle! Materials are hard to come by in the light of war, but Miss Creative always finds a way to make something beautiful and fashionable, reflected in the clothes she wears, whether handmade or store-bought.

Daily: Hair, Necklace (Yina), Dress, Socks, Boots

Daily 2: Hair, Necklace (Yina), Dress, Socks, Boots

Travel: Hat, Hair, Blouse, Skirt, Stockings, Boots (person who made it took it down and i can’t find a link 😒)

Athletic: Hair, Blouse, Pants, Stockings, Boots (Get to Work)

Sleep: Hair, Nightgown

Formal: Hair, Earrings (Vintage Glamour), Necklace (Yina), Dress, Gloves (Basegame), Shoes (Cottage Living)

Party: Hair, Earrings (Mida M), Dress, Gloves, Stockings, Shoes (Cottage Living)

Swim: Hair, Swimsuit

Hot Weather: Hair, Dress, Stockings, Shoes

Cold Weather: Hat, Hair, Scarf, Coat, Gloves (Basegame), Socks, Boots

Thank you so much to these amazing cc creators <33

@buzzardly28, @gilded-ghosts, @satterlly, @lilis-palace, @waxesnostalgic, @jewishsimming, @simstrouble, @historysims4, @dancemachinetrait, @historicalsimslife, @the-melancholy-maiden, @happylifesims, @sentate, @rustys-cc, @linzlu, @mlyssimblr, @daylifesims

#the walshes #the walsh legacy lookbook #ts4 lookbook #lookbook #giselle walsh #1910s #ts4 1910s #ts4 #the sims 4

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pigeonpeach · 3 months

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I just want to be the one you love

Jean x reader

A/n: not my best work but i tried. Enjoy!

Summary: childhood crushes finding out they’ve been in love with each other the whole time.

It seems like as long as you could remember that you has been in love with Jean. Hopelessly pinning that you would be by her side forever, that you would wake up each day to see her next to you, kiss her goodnight, lay on her lap, hold her hand, take her last name… You knew that such things were outlandish. She’s the Acting Grand Master now, she hardly has time for you. But you still find yourself reminiscing in the past.

Jean always was a social girl. Everyday she’d study then go to the library to study, then go down to the bakery in Mondstadt’s city to meet with her best friend: you. Life as a kid was easy then. Her little sister was just born but she didn’t have much time to play with her. She is just a baby after all. But you were someone she liked being around.

“Jean! Jean!” You said holding with you a basket. “My mom says that the library just got some new fiction books! Lets go check them out!” You grabbed her hand.

“Oh but my mom says I need to study more-“

“Just switch the covers! Easy!” You smiled.

“Actually that’s smart.. i guess as long as she doesn’t know… lets go then!”

If you asked Jean’s parents, they tolerated you for her sake. But they were busy at each other’s throats to care about her personal life. You fueled her curiosity and fed into the little rebellious spirit she had. Of course she was always careful. But oh how she loved sneaking snacks with you during sleepovers.

“Your house is huge! Oh my god you guys actually have like hallways!” You smiled as you walked through the Gunnhildr manor. It wasn’t like Diluc’s home but still you lived in a cottage at springvale, luxury is always surprising.

“I’m glad you like it. My Mom says that you can stay over for the night, you can sleep in one of the spare rooms.” Jean held your hand as she guided you through the hallways. It felt like you were a mouse, everything was so huge and clean. Everything was so tidy, fresh flowers in every vase, family portraits with gilded framing, and detailed wallpaper. You loved it.

“Aw.. what good is a sleepover if we aren’t in the same room.” You pout.

“That was just a offer, I didn’t want you to sleep on the floor. But we have to be careful because Barbra is a light sleeper.” She said. You nodded excitedly.

That night you two were too excited to go to sleep. You chatted about this book from Inazuma about these two opposing samurai ladies who fell in love and ended up married. Before you knew it however it was getting dark.

“That’s weird, we should’ve had dinner by now..” Jean said. “I didn’t even notice we weren’t summoned for dinner. I’m sure we can go ask the maids whats up.” She hopped off the bed, with you following suit, the two of you making your way downstairs. There was a muffled sound coming from somewhere. But it sounded like a argument. Instantly Jean stiffened. “O-oh… lets head back to the room.. i think there’s something going on down there.” She said. You noticed she seemed more down now.

“Oh! I packed snacks for us to share! We can have those if you’re really hungry.”

“That should work. As long as we don’t make a mess.”

You sat at Good Hunter now, where you worked now. Honey roast wrapped for later. A thought crossed your mind, maybe you could give it to her as a gift. And if she didn’t want it well Amber would. Amber loves meaty dishes. Your heart raced a little as you walked up the stairs, taking turns and turns to the Knight of Favonius headquarters.

“Say Jean, whats your take on love? Like what do you look for in a partner.” You two lounged on a blanket at windrise.

“L-love?” She seemed surprised.

“Yes. I’m just curious.” You added.

“W-well… I guess loyalty is one… maybe someone gentle and sweet. With.. a um..” she looked at you in a way that sent your heart racing for a moment. “Dedication… someone who would expand my horizons. Maybe a good chef, I always prefer meals made by loved ones.. What about you?”

“Definitely someone strong, chivalrous, like with you I value Loyalty and devotion. But I want someone really devoted, beyond normal means of dedication. Someone who would do anything for me, and preferably taller.”

“Interesting..” she said.

“Its been awhile hasnt it.” You said with a smile as you walked in her office. You noticed the look in her eyes as she saw you.

“What a pleasant surprise.” She sat up in her chair fixing her hair. Seems you caught her a bad time. Her hair was a mess and she looked sleep deprived.

“I brought you some lunch if you’d want it.” You said putting the food infront of her. She seemed quite hungry.

“Your timing is perfect actually. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“What?” You said alarmed. “Jean what have you been doing to yourself! You can’t run the country on s empty stomach!”

“I know I know, its just it slipped my mind.”

“You should know better! You need to prioritize yourself sometimes you know. If you knew you were this deprived I’d have brought you a feast!” You sit across from her.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure to feed myself more properly next time.” Jean said. “So, how have you been?”

“The usual, around windblume is when business picks up. There’s lots of tourists these days.” You laid back in the chair. “Alot of the Knights come by too, but I hardly ever see you come outside nowadays.”

“Oh that.. I’ve been swamped with paperwork recently. You’ve heard of the dark night hero? Well he- they just attacked a relatively important fatuus and now they’re trying to get me to track them down.”

“If you ask me, I’d expel them all out of here. Tell goth it doesn’t matter what that pants guy gave him, we can’t have dozens of personel from another country occupying mondstadt!”

“Unfortunately that kind of situation is one Varka has to do.”

“that lousey… ugh. I’d tell them you’re doing your best but you’re not in charge of protecting them from anything. If they push further just bluff and say you have the authority to kick them all out.” You smile.

“You’re direct as always.” She smiled faintly. “Again, I can’t do that.”

“Well maybe what you need is a little break. Come outside! The weather is wonderful!” You said.

“I’d love to but-“ she looked up from her paper at you, for a minute, it felt like she was younger again, being dragged along by you to adventure she’d cherish afterwards. “Sure. Why not.” The smile on your face when she said those words, oh it cured her stress immediately. Your presence calmed her more than she knew it would. Feelings rising to the surface that she hid for so long. Yet… she didn’t mind it.

Jean looked at you, she just gotten back from training. She noticed you taking little peeks at her from your book. “I feel like I’m a mess.” She grimaced sitting next to you. “Its so hot out.. the sweat is practically pouring from me.”

“You look great though. I mean.. your muscles are coming in.” Gesturing to her arms.

“That’s good. But I’m parched, luckily i packed… oh no!” Jean opened her back to realize her bag was soaked. She quickly took everything out.

“Just lay them out in the sun.” You said. Luckily she didn’t keep anything too important in that bag. It just held her more comfortable clothes.. and now empty water bottle.

“Here have mine.” You said offering her your bottle. She took it.

“Thanks, i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“You would be fine. You’re a strong woman.” You said.

But you were wrong. The worst part about her job was waking up early, when she’d have to leave her wonderful dream behind. When she’d so comfortably be dreaming of you, her hands wrapped around a pillow. Those dreams were her favorite. Still Jean had to go on with her day. That was until she paused. She’d been in love with her childhood best friend for years now, years of subtly flirting and playfulness never coming to be… she was going to change that today.

“Jean?” You said, you hadn’t expected to see her at your door, at this hour.

“I- can i come in.” She seemed rather flustered. In her hands was the biggest bouquets you had seen.

“O-of course.” You said. She walked in, sitting on your couch.

“I-I have to tell you something.” She said, you sat next to her. It was still pretty early. The sun just barely having risen.

“Alright. I’m all ears then-“

“I love you.”

“Wait… can you say that again?” You felt a bit shy all the sudden. You had always been the more confident of you two, able to hold your own. But now you were flustered.

“I.. I have known you for almost my whole life, and each memory of you.. has been a light in my life. I’ve cherished every gift and every word you ever gave me. I’ve longed for you to be in my life forever. I want to grow old with you, I want to come home to you, and every moment without you has only made my heart grow fonder of you. In my sweetest if dreams you’re besides me in my bed, and then I find it hard to wake up. I find myself looking for you in crowds… when you visited me recently.. i knew I couldn’t hide my feeling’s forever. I- I am deeply in love with you.” She said. You paused as you processed what she said. Your own heart racing.

“Jean… did you think I’d reject you?” You said, noticing how she shakes and quiver. “I’ve been dropping hints for our entire childhood almost.” You couldn’t help but smile. You notice the relief in her face as you say so.

“I-i worried i was over analyzing things. I had always brushed it off because you were always so forward..”

“Maybe I should’ve been more obvious then.. but i love you too Jean.” Your hands in hers, you looked into her eyes with a smile.

“It.. I’m sorry i just… I’m so happy right now I can’t really think straight.” The smile on Jean’s face was akin to patch of sunlight in the rain. Her hands grasped yours firmly, she raised one of your hands to press against her cheek. “I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said, leaning into a kiss.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #domestic fluff #jean gunnhildr x reader #wlw #jean x reader #jean gunnhildr #jean gunnhildr x you

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anachrosims · 1 year

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[TS4CC] 18TH CENTURY MILITARY CAMPAIGN SET

Wow! Wowowow!! It's finally DONE!

This set was inspired by 18th century military campaign equipment. This set is really for storytelling, since pretty much all items (aside from the bed and surfaces) are decorative. I'd like to do more add-ons for this in the future, but for now I think we're good as-is.

Some items were converted from the Werewolves pack but are now BGC.

WHAT'S INCLUDED:

43 packages! Nearly all are new meshes! Everything is BGC unless otherwise noted.

Cutlasses - Laying, Wall Mounted, Leaning

Pistol, Laying/Leaning Rifle

Laying, Mounted Tricorn Hat, Dragoon Helmet

Soldier's Wall-Mounted Coat

6 Tents, Large & Small - Each size has open, half open, and closed variants

Short Boots, Tall Boots Laying & Upright

Field Cannon & Powder Keg

Trio of Bottles, Inkwell with Quill, Books with Wax Stamp, Knitting Box (Nifty Knitting Required), Pile of Journal Inkwell & Letters

Printed Posters & Broadsides, Hanging Military Maps, Desk Map with Compass

Large Steamer Trunk, Officer's Dressing Table (Cottage Living may be required), Soldier's Laundry Pile

Soldier's Single Bed, Campaign Chair with Cushion, 2x3 Floor Cloths

Deco Teapot, Knitted Blankets, Box of Matches, Soldier's Rations, Deco Fire Spit (fits OVER and works with most fire pits)

Functional Telescope

I'd also like to thank these people:

historicalsimslife for the pistol which you can get as an accessory here! @historicalsimslife

Viktor Violetta Enterprise for the Ferguson rifle accessory which you can get here! @viktorviolettaenterprises

Steve Henderson at Archive3D for the cannon model, which is here!

revolutionsims for the dragoon helmet hat & British tricorn, which you can get here & here! @revolution-sims

Also, some recommended CC-makers to make your 18th century experience a little more authentic outside the palaces:

@historicalsimslife / @300yearschallenge / @revolution-sims / @edorenelredirect / @simulatedstyles / @peebsplays / @simsfromthepast / @thejim07 / @strangestorytellersims / @historicalfictionsims / @linzlu / @javitrulovesims / @buzzardly28 / @sunlittides / @sifix / @llazyneiph (stays & wigs & mods) / @gilded-ghosts / @joliebean / @lilis-palace / @stereo-91 / @simverses / @bruxel-reign

***

@emilyccfinds / @ts4history / @historicalccsims4 / @allhistoricalcc / @historicalsims4cc / @southernsccfinds / @maxismatchccworld / @mmccfinds

***

-->GET IT ALL HERE @ PATREON, FREE, NO ADS!!<--

EDIT: IT TOOK ME SIX HOURS TO GET THIS POST AND GRAPHICS TOGETHER I’M NOT REDOING THE GIFS Y’ALL ARE FINE I PROMISE

#historical sims 4 cc #18th century sims 4 #ts4cc #s4cc #sims 4 custom content #historical sims 4 #georgian sims 4 #rococo sims 4

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