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#therapy dogs 2022
kmagsy-moved · 1 year
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abu dhabi gp 2022 tv pen
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noose-lion · 1 year
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Temper, Temper
Fandom: Bsd
Pairing: none, platonic Dazai & Atsushi
It's familiar, the click of a gun as it's cocked. A sound Dazai has heard hundreds of times before, from both sides of the weapon. It's somewhere the detective always seems to find himself.
Right now though, Dazai would rather be anywhere else. Anywhere that isn't a fairly abandoned shipping yard by the port, with an armed assailant that currently has the upper hand.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
From his place face down on the ground, an unfortunate landing after being shoved, he twists his head to watch Atsushi freeze at the sight of the gun Dazai is sure is pointed at his back. His assailant chuckles, an easy, victorious sound. "Got you now, damn gifted. You wouldn't want your friend here getting hurt would you? Well, more than it already is."
It stings, being called an it , really it does. But it's not the first time he's been called that and it's quite a mild insult considering the hundreds of other biting words he's been subjected to. It's nothing to Dazai, but Atsushi's expression upon hearing the word, one of grief and bad memories, sparks an old feeling of rage in Dazai's gut. 
"Don't call him that!" Atsushi barks, truly angry and caring little for the assailant's upper hand.
Dazai is impressed.
The gun-wielding man at his back laughs and Dazai can imagine the way he must look, head thrown back in malicious glee. He's hit with a sudden craving to rip the man's throat open with his teeth, a left over intrusive urge from his younger days. Dazai can't think of a good enough reason to feel bad about it.
A knee drops onto his back, knocking the air from his lungs as the assailant cuts his own laughter off with sudden ferocity. "No."
Atsushi growls, actually growls, a deep rumbling sound. He sounds like a hungry beast. Dazai wants to say something but he can't get the air in his lungs to do so.
"Tell me where the rest of you freaks are holed up, and I'll consider not killing this one."
Atsushi's angry snarl falters, growl petering off. Dazai meets his eye best he can and glares. 
Do not tell this bitch a damn thing.
Atsushi didn't need Dazai's reminder, he doesn't even hesitate to firmly respond with a simple. "Never."
Dazai is struck with a sudden pride for the boy, though he is a bit distracted by the gun being pressed to the back of his head. The detective bites back a pained yelp as his assailant grabs him by the back of the neck and yanks his head up. The knee in his back forces him to an odd angle, he can feel the pull in his spine and the bullet graze wound across his side aches with the stretch, the muzzle of the gun is pressed harshly against his temple. 
"Wanna run that by me again."
Dazai is finding this guy less and less amusing. 
Atsushi is growling again, probably upset at how Dazai is being manhandled. The were-tiger hisses through gritted teeth. "No."
The poor thing is worried for Dazai, but fortunately won't spill the location. He's smart enough to know the assailant won't kill Dazai when Dazai is the only thing keeping Atsushi from attacking. Without an ability, being a dumbass with a gun isn't enough to stop a regenerating man-eating tiger. 
Dazai grins at Atsushi (his teeth blood stained from an earlier punch to the face he'd received) and winks, the other looks torn between exasperation and tentative relief. "I feel a bit disappointed I'm the one you're torturing and you haven't even asked me one question."
The man laughs. "You call this torture?!"
His laugh sounds nervous to Dazai, the detective can feel a familiar smirk crack across his face. He can smell the proverbial blood in the water and he can't help but become giddy.
Ah. I might be just a tad bit punch drunk.
"No. I don't, but I'm sure you intended it to be."
The hand at his nape tightens, Dazai smirk sharpens. He has the verbal upper hand, the hunter with a set snare. Cool metal presses deeper into his temple. 
He needs that gun pointed away from his head.
"You're a mouthy little bitch."
"And you're a lousy hostage taker."
Said hostage taker squeezes the back of his neck tight enough that Dazai's seeing stars. The gun is pulled away, only to bash him across the back of his head. Another growl escapes Atsushi.
Dazai clicks his tongue with a pained wince. "Temper, temper."
An angry grunt and Dazai's face is being slammed into the ground. Pain blooms through his jaw and he groans in response, he can practically feel the bruise forming. 
"One more word out of you and I swear I'll blow your brains out!"
"Really?" Dazai lets a nearly hopeful lilt, "You'd do that just for me? How wonderful!"
"You're not taking this threat seriously!" It's a livid confrontation, but his captor sounds uncomfortable as most are when faced with Dazai's willingness to die.
And now, Dazai is starting to have fun. The detective chances another look at his pseudo apprentice, he seems worried. Perhaps Dazai is having too much fun.
His next response is said without the mocking tone. "You just don't seem to come across that threatening."
Dazai is watching Atsushi, he sees the grimace that the boy bites back. In any other situation it'd be a full on face palm. The man at his back is much more willing to express his great displeasure in Dazai's lack of fearful reactions.
He hears the gunshot boom in his ear before he can register the pain in his shoulder. It fucking hurts. Dazai groans in pain, forhead thudding into the ground.
"You shot him!" Atsushi shouts this with a renewed rage, his body shifting into a more feline form.
"Yeah? Well he's not fucking dead is he? And if you want him to stay that way Whiskers, you'll tell me the hidey-hole you freaks are hiding in." 
As he makes his demand, his assailant knees him in the side, right in his scraped up side. The detective's pained cry is the metaphorical piece of straw that breaks the camel's back, Atsushi deciding he longer has patience for the man holding the two of them hostage. As a full tiger, Atsushi lunges forward, knocking the man off of Dazai. 
There's a series of angry curses and the gun goes off, but Atsushi catches the bullet in an oversized paw, shaking the sting out in order to continue his defensive assault. 
Dazai struggles to sit up, the hole through his shoulder wracking his body with pain. He's breathing harshly through gritted teeth, hand grabbing at his wound as an instinctual response to stem the bleeding. 
Atsushi is shifted back to his half-form, their once captor gunless, pinned to the ground reminiscent of the way he had Dazai. 
"Get you're paws off me-"
"Shut. Up." Atsushi snarls as he slams the man's face into the ground in a rare moment of violence. The boy is pissed.
The man is no longer struggling, and for a brief moment Dazai is sure Atsushi killed him. It's a short lived worry, the man's chest moves up on down in uneven breaths, and Dazai feels relief that Atsushi hadn't crossed that line. 
The world spins.
Oh. I've lost to much blood.
Dazai blinks.
He's on his back. Atsushi is leaning over him, his face twisted in fear. Dazai trys to smile, trys to reassure him. He doesn't think it works.
"Dazai, we have to get you to Yosano."
"Nah, little tiger. I'm fine." 
"No Dazai. No you're not." 
Atsushi voice is quite, subdued, he's straining and Dazai thinks he might be holding back tears. Squinting, he's able to see that the boy's eyes are wet.
This feels familiar. Wrong, like he's not quite in the right place, but familiar. 
Its- It's like-
A seagull squawks from where it's probably flying over the harbor, the familiarity shatters.
Atsushi slips an arm beneath his knees and another around his back, easily lifting him. He's strong. That too is familiar, but different then what he felt at first. Dazai groans softly as he's picked up, the movement pulling at his wounds. He's sure he's bleeding all down Atsushi's white shirt. 
Dazai can feel as his eyelids grow heavier, as each slow blink becomes harder and harder to open back up. Atsushi has taken off in a run, jolting Dazai slightly with every stride. The tiger's heart beats frantically against his ear, he's trying to speak to Dazai, voice strained with panic and exertion. His eyelids continue to grow heavier.
Tired. So very very-
Dazai slips into unconsciousness as Atsushi continues to plead with him to keep his eyes open.
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sozoart · 1 year
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Inktober day 21.
Bad dog.
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sophiexrph · 2 years
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Hey stupid fuck why don't you get a job instead of leeching off of people:) no one wants to buy your shitty gifs GET A JOB
lmao i love the smiley face but like bestie if nobody wanted to buy my so-called shitty gifs then tell me why i have people buying those so-called shitty gifs
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joshiemarie · 2 years
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How To Celebrate Your Dog At International Dog Day on August 26 2022
How To Celebrate Your Dog At International Dog Day on August 26 2022
It’s almost time for International Dog Day again! This is one of our favorite annual celebrations, and there are lots of ways you can help make it the best yet. Adopting a dog from a shelter rather than buying one from a breeder is more important than ever, as millions of dogs wind up in shelters across the country each year. If you’ve been considering welcoming a new pup into your home, be sure…
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13 May 2022
My dog died 2 days ago and I’m still heartbroken.
Honestly, it feels so surreal knowing that I’m never going to see her again. 
I’ll never hear her barking at the birds whenever they’re hanging out on the lawn or at whatever neighbor’s cat that’s strolling along our fence.
When I step inside my house, I’m never going to see her rushing over to greet me. 
I’m never going to be able to take her on walks again.
Or pet her.
Or see her lie down by my feet in my room, while I’m watching tv or playing video games or doing homework.
I’m never going to be able to take her hiking like I had always wanted to, but never found the time to (now I’m really wish I had...)
It probably seems silly to some people to be feeling so emotional over a dog, but she wasn’t just a dog. She was basically family. She joined my family when when she was just a few weeks old. We basically raised her and I had some milestone years with her as well. To top it all off, she was going to turn 11 years old this month...
I know bigger dogs don’t live as long as smaller dogs, but I was really hoping I had at least a couple more years with her. With me moving back to my family home, since I graduate soon, I was looking forward to being home more often. Instead of having to go back and forth between two cities because of work and school.
I feel so bad because I feel like I didn’t have enough time with her. Like I said, the past few years, I was not consistently with her because of work and school. 
Now she’s gone and I’m never going to get that lost time back.
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susvale · 2 months
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M.I.A. Homelander X Reader X Steve Roger
Title: Missing In action
Pairings: Homelander X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Dark Steve x Reader, Dark Homelander x reader [Crossover]
Summary: You were an avenger, one of the more magic ones. People called your name in excitement and felt safe being around you, then thanos happened… when you weren’t snapped and after a police call you were somewhere else. Now all you know is there is a man with a cap calling himself Homelander calling himself “Americas Hero” and the world is different… is it isn’t so bad though.
I made this is 2022, It’s been sitting in my drafts for that long… so yeah!
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[Part One] -> [Part Two]
It was overwhelming at times. Cameras in your face after a mission were you were left battered and bruised, nevertheless you smiled, you gave a proud smile to the reporters reporting. They had risked things coming here did it make your job harder, yes, the helicopters flying around while you try and fly. It added pressure to keep people in the air safe. At least you weren’t Steve, they made him do dumb shit, like that time he was in a Detention video spouting nonesense. You job was only to keep people safe. People may offer you movie rolls but you always decline, you weren’t an actor your a hero. Even if declining meant buying an okay-ish apartment with a broken Landry machine. You weren’t a millionaire, just a lady with the power to say “bang” and a mans head would explode if you wanted to. Even then, you had the option to live in Tony’s tower. Maybe then some random wouldn’t show up ever week looking to kill you. A sigh left your lips as you looked down at the TV, Thanos killed half the population and vanished. That is what’s in the News again. Men lost daughters, mothers lost sons but everybody lost someone. Even so it still stung he wouldn’t pick up your calls, you wanted to shout at him ‘your not dead yet and neither am I! stop ignoring me before one of those things change!’ Missions still came in, unsteady but they did come in.
“Maybe I should get a real job, part time.” You mumbled to yourself while you stared at the TV. Everyone you ever knew had distanced themselves or been snapped, maybe getting out would be good… people have been starting to expect that this is life, ‘maybe thanos was right my gym has been less crowded lately!’ Kinda people, jokes that might not be jokes anymore.
You still think about it, maybe he was right. It was horrible, you know. So many people lost and yet you didn’t lose anyone significant, Bucky of course but you were only just starting to get to know him… Steve maybe but you could still see him, feel him breathe, he didn’t get snapped. He was just distance, like he wished he did get snapped…
Witch hurt…
You didn’t have a family, friends outside of the avengers, hell you never had a boyfriend before Steve. How could you? Caged and trained like a dog, feed needles and pills like food. Given faces and names to quietly kill, you never had your own name till the avengers… Y/N… it was a nice name though. you named yourself off the first person you ever killed, you didn’t know if they would ever have agreed but they were dead… so it didn’t matter.
Steve and therapy, You remembered. Keep breathing don’t think about it. Or maybe it was think about it regret is good? Your therapist had been snapped so it’s been a while. The police called you once in and while about cases. Maybe answering back wouldn’t suck? You were lonely and bored, nothing to do then unsteady mission that lacked any sort of life.
Grabbing your phone you called a man. He was your contact to the police, you could never remember titles or anything like that but he was pretty high up.
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“Thank god you called, you use to be so active I was starting to worry you got snapped too.” He joked, people cope with humor, you know that. Still, it irritated you that you and your friends put your life on the line and failed only to be joked about by people who didn’t know anything. Nevertheless, you gritted your teeth and held your tongue. “More and more people are disappearing. We think it may be an aftershock effect of some kind.”
“I doubt it.” You mumbled to yourself, he didn’t hear you and went on about the investigation. A group of people who agreed with Thanos’s ideals has been here and there, left and right. They think a select group talking it too far and hurting or making more people disappear. That sounded more likely, he told you about peoples corpses. Looked like they had been shot with high power lasers, or they’re heads have been smashed in. They had a certain person in custody, maybe if you worked with them you could find a way to undo the snap? That’s what the officer proposed anyway. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, you would be their for the interview is what you told them.
You should call Steve. This looked like such an important case, he had to know people were making more people disappear… it could lead to something. He would want to know.
So you did call him. He didn’t answer, instead you were greeted by the all so familiar call after the beep speech. It was nicer then actually speaking to him nowadays, though. “Heya, it’s Steve. Leave a uh… voicemail..? After the beep? Did I do that right?” You’d hear him call to someone in the background, “yeah, other then forgetting what a voicemail was called.” You heard your own distant voice greet you, “Steve you have to-“ you were the last thing you hear as the beep signalled the end of the recorded ‘can’t get to you’ message.
A sigh left you when you realized you’d have to speak now, “Hey Steve, the police called me and they have a case of more disappearing people. A group of Thanos supporters popped up making even more people disappear.” You paused, “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in, might lead to something, heh… listen, I miss you, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I… can’t…” your voice trailed off, you breathed in deciding not to do this over a call. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Can’t make it too long.”
That’s right. You couldn’t keep the police waiting… So you grabbed your bag and left. Off to the police station.“Hey, we put the suspect in the interrogation room.” The man spoke, he opened the door to a standard interrogation room. Blue walls, four barely cushioned chairs and a table in the middle closet to a wall. The suspect looked like a regular man. You frowned.
This all felt too… cultish? It made you uncomfortable, the look in his eye. He looked at you like you were a god among men.
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enrosadiraanisaaa · 9 months
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Within Session .Part One.
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Hello, this is my first fanfic. After reading several fanfics with Yandere!Leon Kennedy, I thought I hop on the bandwagon. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:
🏮-Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…
Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝🤠
This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!
I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂
While this chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit. This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.
Summary
As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?
A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, the movie FRESH(2022), ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. They’re all great works, especially the fics with Yandere!Leon *chef’s kiss*. They both certainly have been feeding my obsession with Yandere!Leon in general at this point.
Hope y’all enjoy what’s to come ❤️ ~ Anisssa أنيسة
This is an incredibly short chapter, but a chapter to set the tone 🌙
That Night
A brisk breeze was enough to stir Leon from his sleep, peering from the bed to notice the curtains blowing as the window was left open. From the light of the moon, Leon immediately realized the vacant space beside him on the bed. With an empty exhale, he should have not been surprised she would make a haste exit, even after an exhilarating night. The linger of a fleeting love, her scent haunts him.
After months of successfully saving the dear daughter of the president, Leon Kennedy became undone despite the years of conditioned training. Both incidents in Racoon City and Spain relived in his nightmares, a curse that seemed to threaten his sanity. Now, he misjudged the approach of that woman in red. Despite their separate ways, the universe had a cruel way of bringing her back to him. In the aftermath of their one night stand, he found himself faced with his demons, alone and used.
With all considered, the resolve for Leon was… therapy. To reach out to Hunnigan and be hopefully assigned a therapist from the courtesy of STRATCOM.
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afeelgoodblog · 1 year
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The Best News of Last Week - March 6, 2023
🐎 - News That'll Make You Say "Neigh" to Negativity: My Weekly Positive Roundup
1. Drugmaker Eli Lilly caps the cost of insulin at $35 a month, bringing relief for millions
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Eli Lilly will cap the out-of-pocket cost of its insulin at $35 a month, the drugmaker said Wednesday. The move could prompt other insulin makers in the U.S. to follow suit.
The change, which Eli Lilly said takes effect immediately, puts the drugmaker in line with a provision in the Inflation Reduction Act, which in January imposed a $35 monthly cap on the out-of-pocket cost of insulin for seniors enrolled in Medicare.
2. Over 7,500 Pot Convictions Expunged in Missouri
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More than 7,500 individuals in Missouri have had their prior marijuana-related convictions expunged with recreational cannabis now legal in the state.
The expungement is the latest byproduct of the constitutional amendment that was approved by Missouri voters last fall, which legalized pot for adults and cleared the way for Missourians to have their records cleared.
3. Scientists cure 22 year old former race horse's behavioral disorders after 15 years of symptoms
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A team of international researchers from Italy and Brazil published findings earlier this month in the science publication Veterinary and Animal Science in which they reported a “successful outcome of four weeks-therapy with CBD” in a clinical case involving a 22-year-old Quarter horse that was experiencing behavioral disorders.
The clinical case study was a collaboration between investigators from the Department of Veterinary Medical Sciences at the University of Bologna in Italy and the Department of Veterinary Medical Sciences at the University Metodista of São Paulo in Brazil. At the heart of the study was a 22-year-old mare subject that was reportedly suffering from “chronic crib-biting and wind-sucking,” which are common behavioral disorders in horses for various reasons, including but not limited to poor welfare
4. Clean energy record: More than 40% of US electricity now comes from carbon-free sources
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Power from zero-carbon sources made up a full 41% of the U.S. electricity mix in 2022, a record-breaking number that has increased almost every year since 1990.
That mix includes power from nuclear plants, hydroelectric dams, solar and wind. With nuclear and hydropower relatively unchanged for years at about 19% and 10% respectively, the majority of the increase has come from the rapid build-out of solar and wind power, whose costs have plummeted in the past two decades. 
5. ‘Cruelty-free’ circus replaced animals with holograms
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Holograms of horses run in circles. The Circus Roncalli stopped using wild animals in its shows in the 1990s. Circus Roncalli was among the first circus acts in Europe to stop using animals in acts.
6. New UN brokered High Seas Treaty Places 30% of Ocean into protected areas by 2030 after decades of talks
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The High Seas Treaty places 30% of the seas into protected areas by 2030, aiming to safeguard and recuperate marine nature.
The agreement was reached on Saturday evening, after 38 hours of talks, at UN headquarters in New York. The negotiations had been held up for years over disagreements on funding and fishing rights.
7. 'Heroic' Wirral student rescues dog from Manchester canal
Watch the video here:
https://twitter.com/feelgoodnws/status/1632323139454550018
- - -
Lastly, I opened a Youtube account. Subscribe for more wholesome videos. That's it for this week. If you liked this post you can support this newsletter with a small kofi donation:
Buy me a coffee ❤️
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On Wednesday, UK-based animal rescue Mayhew Animal Home opened a new wing in their London facility to transform the Home, providing wonderful spaces for enrichment, training and therapy. The Wing, named in honor of Oli Juste, will provide greater care for dogs in need, and was dedicated in memory of the renowned dog trainer and animal behaviorist by his friend Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex. 
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Oli first introduced The Duchess to Mayhew in 2019, and she became Royal Patron for a three-year term. When he tragically passed in January 2022, The Duchess, through The Ar,chewell Foundation, made a contribution to Mayhew in Oli’s honor to continue his legacy. 
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bigjimbopickens · 8 months
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Jim Pickens lore in point-form!
(Aka the CMK sims 4 series that ran from 2016-2022)
Recently I’ve noticed that newer CMK viewers don’t know the whole Jim Pickens universe lore so I’m going to explain it in the simplest way I can so they can know too :)
The story begins with Urp John. He moves into an apartment and has 6 kids with multiple women.
Jim Pickens moves in across from him and tries to get Urp to move in with him by attempting to kill off a household member.
Focus shifts to Jim.
Jim moves the family to the Sandtrap Flats, the first house in the series to feature a dungeon (called ‘chambers’ at this time).
To generate profit, he locks the family in the chambers and forces them to paint so Jim can later sell whatever they made. The only household members not in the chambers are the kids (Tim, Beejey and Urp’s kids). This is where the iconic Jim Pickens portrait comes from.
The cult unofficially forms. As members start to die, Jim begins taking an interest in the Grim Reaper.
Jim finds the Book of Chaos, which allowed him to kill people with magical abilities. He uses this to kill off rich families and inherit everything they owned as well as getting with the Grim Reaper.
Jim starts a graveyard business.
Jim and Grim officially become boyfriends. Grim moves in, gets pregnant and spawns Grimey. Grimey is given to another family in trade for Jules Cooper, Beejey’s boyfriend. Jules dies soon after.
Jim tries to kill Dennis Racket and pose as him but Dennis kept coming back. He was unkillable. But Jim bangs his wife anyways.
Jim robs people as Santa.
Jim opens a vet clinic and gets scarred for life by cursed dancing dogs. He also adopts a cat named Pumpkin during this time.
Beejey passes away and Jim goes on a jungle adventure to mourn his loss. Dennis also finally dies.
Jim moves to a new house with a proper dungeon and becomes a vampire.
Jim officially starts a cult, the same cult the fandom is.
Jim opens a joint restaurant/graveyard that only serves pufferfish. Many die.
Jim has a kid with Emma Racket, Dennis’ wife. His name is Project. He also became a cop briefly during this time. Weird era.
Jim dies and takes the universe with him so he jumps to an alternate timeline where he didn’t die.
Jim hosts a winter pool party. Many die and EA later patches this.
Jim kidnaps two Father Winters, Ryland and Clement. He tries to kill them but they cannot die, so instead they become permanent household members. One of them gets pregnant with aliens twins who end up being First Name and Second One.
Grim starts a painting club and Jim opens a store that sells the paintings. Jim also starts a band around the same time.
Jim goes to therapy and we learn about his past. Jim’s parents were Dick and Janice Pickens. He was forced to live in a closet, his parents didn’t care about him and his father was also a serial killer. Jim was taken away to military school due to the neglect.
What happens in between the sims 1 and sims 2 prequel videos is unknown and up to speculation. My theory is that it’s where he met Dennis, since they were around the same ages and were both taken from neglectful parents. Though Dennis turned out more stable and Jim was considered a lost cause because of his violent tendencies.
As a teen, Jim is somehow back in custody of his father and lives in a house with mole people in the walls. The moles are Mole1, Mole2 and Mole3. He tries to get a girlfriend but Dick kept throwing water balloons at her.
After therapy Jim becomes even more unhinged. Starts a YouTube channel and kills people on camera for content. He also did a twerking video.
Jim moved to his universe’s equivalent to LA and drives a man to suicide after ruining his life so he could inherit everything from him. Jim didn’t inherit anything from this.
Jim starts a content farm in his basement. Kevin totally isn’t a subject of it and this whole series isn’t just a documentary.
Jim opens a bar that doesn’t let people leave and he loses it. He starts killing people for simply existing and Grim stabs him to get him to stop. 💔
In attempt to fix his relationship with Grim, he goes camping with Grim but forgets he’s a vampire so it didn’t really work. So instead Jim cures his vampirism. Second One also drowns during this time.
Jim moves everyone into an abandoned prison and hosts a battle royale. Shrek wins and joins the household.
Jim falls in love with breadsticks and literally couldn’t let go of them.
The family moves to Strangerville and Jim becomes dedicated to solving the mystery of that town. He discovers the Mother Plant and is killed in battle against her.
Jim comes back as a ghost and defeats the Mother Plant. During Shrek’s sex dungeon era (that’s a weird sentence) Jim comes back to life. A miracle!
Jim somehow goes to the future to chase after his father who had gone there. Jim gets a bunch of half-siblings and Dick gets a boyfriend; Mole4.
Back in the present time, Jim becomes a merman and he’s absolutely beautiful. First Name also becomes a drug lord and they smuggle drugs across borders together.
Jim and Grim get married and Jim’s last name briefly changes to Reaper.
Jim starts a gang and goes to war with another gang. It ends with the other gang dying and Jim going to prison for once. They finally got him.
Once he was out of prison, the zombie apocalypse starts and Jim starts a restaurant that serves human flesh to accommodate the zombies. Jim also makes the two Santa’s fight to the death. Clement was the winner, he eats Ryland. Dick and Mole4 now join the family.
Jim goes to the magic realm and learns more magic. He uses the magic to terrorize other families and moves into a new house he killed the previous members of.
Dick declares himself as King and starts making people pay taxes to him. Jealous, Jim kills Dick for the title and doesn’t do anything with it. He was just fed up with Dick’s bs.
Jim goes to university. He becomes the worst landlord and also gets pregnant along with a few others. His child’s name is Aaaahhhhhh.
After that he moves the family again and tries to get as many people as he can to live in one tiny house. First Name dies and comes back as a demon to forever haunt Jim and terrorize the land.
To escape First Name, the Pickens family now lives in a bunker. Jim tries to enforce the “nobody can go outside” rule by locking people inside their homes.
Jim launches a nuke and destroys that section of the world because the people were annoying him. He is now the only remaining family member, besides Grim.
Jim meets Turg and the two team up to become the ultimate crime-causing duo, even if Turg doesn’t want to admit it. The two rob several homes with Turg as the distraction and Jim doing all the robbing.
Jim starts a knitting business with someone who won the lottery. Default joins the family.
Jim goes to the Star Wars. Idk if this is canon or not.
The cult compound is now here. Kevin only does one video on it despite streaming the building of it for hours. Nice.
Jim, Turg and Default go on a winter vacation to the mountains. Jim ages into an old sim and loses his sparkle 💔
Jim and Turg move into a haunted house together and Jim takes on several new jobs such as paranormal investigator, house renovator and murder speedrunner. Jim dies of old age during this time but comes back.
Jim starts an industrial farm, Turg is there too but he starts becoming irrelevant after this 💔
After dying to pufferfish, a clone of Jim shows up and Jim kills him.
Jim starts kidnapping people and making them play sick twisted games that results in people’s deaths solely for his own amusement. Karma catches up to him and he is shot.
Jim starts going absolutely insane. Even more than before. He spawns 100 babies, goes through strange changes and gets stuck in an apartment with 99 other people. Turg dies off-screen during this time.
Jim marries someone and that is the last we see him. That’s the end of the story.
I don’t think the current sims 4 series is canon to this one. It’s separate.
Hope this helps and gets you caught up/refreshed on the lore :) hopefully I didn’t miss anything. I did this entirely from memory :3
Jim is one of my favourite characters ever I love him so much. He was the only queer representation I had growing up too lol.
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mar3ggiata · 15 days
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professional help, c2. preview
simon riley x original character.
abstract: this is Jude, this is a little bit of information about me since you care so much, I don't even know you… anyway yes, I really like being mysterious, what you gonna do about it, punch me in the face? I'm not even real, grow the fuck up. see ya.
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trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, eating disorders, depression.
song to listen to when reading this: *The Chain*, Fleetwood Mac.
Sometimes, she just fucking hated her life. She supposed it was normal like that, it happened to everyone to absolutely fucking despise their lives, no? She wakes at the same hour everyday, does her makeup. Not too much, just enough so she looked like she had slept the night before. She conceals her identity under eyeliner and blush. She looks like a doll. She likes her makeup, she's quite good at it. She plays with her hairstyles, sometimes a bun, sometimes braids, sometimes loose with a headband, depending on the mood. She walks her dog and cleans his poop.
She always comes in dressed in dark colours, dark red, dark blue or black. She has 10 male patients and 8 female soldiers. Some of them are combat medics, some snipers. Demolition experts. She works till lunch time, eats alone, sometimes skips lunch just to make her body feel something and indulge in disordered eating, then goes outside to smoke and comes back in. After the afternoon sessions, she sometimes has groups together for some group therapy.
She didn't work for the entirety of 2022. She had an accident with one of the patients, classified information. She survived, but man was it hard to live after that day... Spent time with her dog, visited a friend in San Francisco, taught ballet at the local dance school. Price and Laswell felt so guilty they continued to pay her even if she wasn't working. Why she decided to come back she really didn't know. She thinks the truth is she likes helping people, makes her feel good. She liked crazy stories and she had a reputation at the base, she was starting to be respected. She craved that. And it really started to bore her, the routine. Until Arash.
She was used to raising her voice and presenting herself as stoic and cold. She knew perfectly how to be violence. She noticed a familiar face once she opened the door of the briefing room. A familiar face mask. The skull guy, she had seen him before. Was he the guy… She could't get distracted. Her little mission went smoothly. She always knew Price liked her and feared her at the same time, and when it came to his little soldier boys, she really didn't care what they thought about her. The guy from the day of her accident even spoke to her. Poor thing. She was really amused no one told him about the reason why she didn't want to go home alone. He did really good that night, she remembers him well. He didn't try to speak too much, he sounded gentle. A gentle giant. Unfortunately for him, no one was gonna tell him about that day. When she left the room, she went straight home. She doubted someone would ever contact her again about the situation, they would handle it themselves, and probably very badly.
notes: full thing on sunday!! let me know what you think <3
love, mare.
taglist:
@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess
@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut
@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight
@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi
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aureutr · 4 months
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Health update, featuring: DIAGNOSIS
I have been a chronic pain patient for a few years now. It's difficult to fully articulate how much pain changes your life, unless you are someone who has lived it or had a loved one live it.
Pain sucked away my energy and brainpower. I found myself sleeping more and more, first in naps after work then I was regularly calling out half days just to sleep. All the while, I was seeing doctor after doctor in hopes that someone would have an answer.
No one did. At first, it was almost a relief. It wasn't cancer, after all. But then the relief turned into disappointment and quickly into resignation. Labs were fine, X-ray was clear, CT was good. It should have been good news, except I still hurt all of the time and no one could tell me why.
The pain got worse. It peaked in Autumn 2022, when I finally got my first sliver of relief. Gabapentin kept the pain in control enough that I no longer had to regularly sleep half of the day, but it made me foggy. Still, it was easier to manage than the brain fog from pain, so I took it.
I still take it, and I’m on quite the high dose. It’s given me a semblance of a life back, but it’s not the answer or a cure. I still napped, I still hurt too much to even walk around a store for more than an hour or so. And, if I did, it would be my only activity for the day.
I lost my job late last year. I don’t believe it was because of the time I had to take, it was a mass layoff, but I’m certain it did not help. That, at least, ended up fine. I found a job I prefer with far better pay within a few months. And they’re, so far, understanding that I’m working through health problems.
But being unemployed was still a stressor, and I had learned that stress was integral to my pain. When I was stressed, it was worse. When I was calm, it was bearable.
I’ll skip describing another round of tests and hypotheses that went nowhere. In October 2023, my husband and I went to the Mayo Clinic or the Cleveland Clinic or John Hopkins (I am being intentionally vague here). This was our second time visiting, the first gave us absolutely nothing.
A nurse practitioner took a very quick look at me, too quick for our comfort, and declared the issue muscular. She recommended physical therapy. It seemed too simple, really. After all of that, all that money spent and time invested? It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried some exercise, but when moving makes your pain worse and worse pain zaps your energy, that’s difficult to maintain.
Still, I wasn’t going to turn my nose up at anything at this point. And it’s a damn good thing I didn’t.
The physical therapist I ended up seeing told me I had the strongest pelvic floor she’s ever seen. And that’s not a good thing. I have apparently taken literal decades worth of anxiety, depression, self-loathing, and any other negative emotion you can think of, and held them taut there, keeping my pelvic muscles almost constantly tensed.
And when you tense that much for that long, dysfunction arises.
My official diagnosis is Pelvic Floor Disorder. All of my PT has been focused on stretching, no strength training or cardio. I’m retraining my body to relax, to let go.
It has been amazing.
At the time of writing, I’ve been going to sessions for about six weeks. Already, I am eager to walk our dogs every day. I’ve gone out on my own or with friends to move.
The pain is not gone. But it is so much less that my pain clinic doctor is discussing reducing my gabapentin in a couple of months. And with decreased pain comes decreased brain fog.
Decreased brain fog means not only an improvement in my professional work, but space for fandom. I’ve written more than I’ve shared, lots of short private stuff for friends, but I haven’t had enough organized thought to re-approach the stories I put on hold.
I can’t promise anything, of course, but I hope that can change soon. I’ve been dabbling in Distant Echoes again, and it’s fun to be back in that world.
I’m not well. But I’m better. I’m so, so much better.
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bluewonderer · 1 year
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Hi! For those of you who don't know, I'm Becca. The same one mentioned above. ⬆️
I know I normally only reblog on here, but I'm hoping you'll hear me out. Hasi (@hussyknee), my sweet friend, my fandom wife, my comfort and my cheerleader, needs some urgent care. Please help me help her.
If you'll please take a moment to read through the link (text also copied and pasted below) and consider donating, I would really appreciate it. If you cannot donate, please consider reblogging to help spread the word.
Thank you so much ❤️
. . .
Hasi, my beloved friend, needs a lifeline.
For a little over two years, I’ve only been able to watch from half a world away as my friend is crushed without reprieve. I’ve watched her living situation become hostile as her mental and physical health deteriorated. I’ve watched her withdraw for weeks at a time as she tried to put every last scrap of her energy toward basic survival.
I’m watching her now as she’s giving up hope. As she’s deciding that the only solution to her struggle is a permanent one. I’m watching her make preparations for it.
And now I’m asking for help, because I don’t want to lose my friend.
Hasini (35) lives in Sri Lanka. She has struggled with mental illness for 15 years, and with chronic physical illness for 10 years. Even though she’s been passionate about learning from a young age and is a talented writer and debator, she fell ill during her second year of her dream program in anthropology and was forced to drop out. She later became beridden with ulcerative colitis immediately after her marriage, and was diagnosed only 7 years later (at age 31). Because of the lack of adequate care, treatment resources, and family support, she was only able to get diagnoses for Complex PTSD and bipolar at age 29 and ADHD at 32.
Her dogs had been her comfort during her years of isolation and illness, but when her marriage disintegrated in 2020, she had to leave them behing and return to her surviving parent and intellectually disabled brother. Her mother is now a pensioner, and won’t be able to support them much longer.
I cannot emphasize enough how toxic this situation is for her. She has developed arthritis and worsening colitis flares due to the stress of her divorce and the retraumatizing environment of her family. This was made exponentially worse when the 2022 Sri Lankan Economic Crisis plunged her country into chaos. With the cost of living skyrocketing, the prices of her medications have more than doubled. She has had to stop therapy and choose which of her doctors to visit. Government hospitals are free, but her mobility has been further restricted by a back injury and transport costs are prohibitive. Most of her friends don’t live in the same country.
Although she has experienced suicidality before, she has found lifelines in rescuing animals, learning and blogging about social justice, and cultivating friends across different continents. Before the pandemic, she’d been well enough to take on a part time job for the first time. She also began to pursue a community college degree that she’s again had to put on hold.
All Hasi wants is to be well enough to work. With work, she would have the means to live away from her family, continue her studies, and help rescue animals however she can.
Her panic attacks and PTSD episodes have been escalating by the day, and it’s imperative that she’s admitted to a hospital for psychiatric care. Her doctor arranged for her to be admitted to a free government hospital, but due to the Sri Lankan national crisis-spawned overcrowding and poor conditions, she became more profoundly stressed.
We hope to raise enough money to admit her to a private hospital. We also want to get her consistent access to therapy, so that her emergency treatment could lead to more long-term, life-affirming solutions.
Her initial emergency care and immediate treatment may come to approx USD 300. We also want to raise enough money for her medication (USD 300), therapy (USD 100), and doctor’s fees (USD 200) for the next five months, as well as money for medical investigation for her back injury (USD 100).
She doesn’t want to lose her dreams, and I don’t want to lose her. We met six years ago and I would be a different person without her. Less confident, less loving, and less curious.
Without her, the world would be a bleaker place.
Please help her.
Thank you for reading and for donating.
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ari-kari · 8 days
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hey. gnarly gender stuff below. wouldn’t recommend reading if you are triggered by gender doubt, detransition, sexuality, negative body talk, and surgical malfeasance. oh and also light gore. sorry it’s going to get kind of weird
so I’ve been quietly stepping away from id’ing as trans for a while now. which is a subject that probably needs its own post, all things considered. but there’s one aspect of my (de)transition that is causing an enormous amount of stress in my life, and I’m genuinely not sure how to handle it. so I figured blabbing about it here might help me get some clarity.
anyways. let’s talk titties.
my first top surgery in 2022 was botched. dog ears, massive janky nipples, bizarre incision site choices - it was a whole deal. I got a revision last year (from the same surgeon lmao) that fixed a lot of things, but unfortunately it made other problems significantly worse. So while aesthetically things are much better than they used to be, I still consider myself to be botched. I haven’t taken my top off in public since it happened, and I don’t see myself doing so any time soon.
For a long time, I assumed that this was my only problem; some asshole small town doctor had messed up my results, and now I felt uncomfortable in my body. But it slowly began to dawn on me that things were more complicated than that. Because when I imagined myself being intimate with someone with perfect, stellar top surgery results…I still felt horrible. To the point where, even with nipple prosthetics, I haven’t felt comfortable enough to have sex since my revision 9 months ago.
So now we get into the crux of the problem. Which is this - I do not feel desireable without breasts. Not to myself, and not to others. And to be honest, I knew this would be a problem even before I got the surgery, but I went through with it anyways. Because desireability is small potatoes when it comes to the horrors of gender dysphoria, right? In my mind, I was being vain to put my intimacy concerns over the pursuit of my “true self”. Everyone with dysphoria had to “fix” it eventually - I couldn’t just not get top surgery.
But like…fuck, dude. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten top surgery.
I prefer my body without breasts. It feels much more “me”, especially when I’m alone. But I don’t feel hot. I don’t feel fuckable, or beautiful, or attractive. And I’ve been trying to chip away at it in therapy, but I haven’t really put much of a dent in it, and it’s bringing up some really hard questions that I no longer feel capable of ignoring.
Honestly? My confidence in my sexuality is a big fucking deal to me. I’m someone for whom intimacy of all kinds is really important. And even though I know that there are PLENTY of people who find flat chests attractive, I personally do not. And it’s seriously starting to fuck with my head.
Idk man. Insurance is able to cover reconstruction for me due to a federal loophole, but there’s no way in hell they’re going to fix my jacked-up nipples on their own. And I’m seriously beginning to question if a little gender dysphoria might be worth the relief of finally feeling confident in my own skin again. I have a consultation appointment in June, in either case. So in the mean time, I just have to…figure this out. No biggie.
Anyways, that’s my spiel. I’ve been wearing prosthetics for a while now and tolerating them fairly well, but I recognize that having something physically attached to you is a whole other ball game. So we’re just gonna keep on trucking and see what happens 🫠🫠🫠 either way I have a funny feeling that the “perfect” answer I’ve been seeking to this problem does not exist.
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trollprincess · 3 months
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Okay, so some of you might not know this because I did this before I returned to Tumblr from the bird site, BUT. Last year I dictated almost two entire books to my phone.
Let me explain. One of my jobs is a twelve-hour weekend night shift. Six PM to six AM Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, so thirty-six hours with the other four hours paid just as long as we do the entire weekend. I first took it so I could have the rest of the week off, and then proceeded to go back to work at dog camp those days. For the most part, over the last five years, I have only have Mondays completely off solely because that’s when my therapy sessions are.
Anyway, my weekend job is full-time, dog camp is part-time. The weekend job is factory work, making helmets, a lot of which are for the military. (Which, as a pacifist, I manage to stomach because hey, it’s just protective gear.) The thing is, like a lot of manufacturing work, it’s boring and repetitive. Think about how bored you are after five or so hours of an eight-hour shift. Now imagine it’s one o’clock in the morning, you still have five hours to work, and you would literally rather shove nails in your eyes than work. It sucks.
Meanwhile, my free time is spent trying to work at my third job (making @disasterarea-podcast) and attempting to work on getting published. I had all these grand ideas about getting traditionally published back in my twenties, and now I’m 46 and I’m struggling just to come up with any ideas at all a lot of the time. Three jobs doesn’t help. Depression and anxiety don’t help. So for a while there, I had terrible writer’s block when it came to my novels.
So last year, I decided to try something. I have these massive baby-pink noise-canceling Bluetooth gaming headphones with a mic which I wear to work. Why not try dictating a first draft to my phone? Obviously it wouldn’t be exact, since voice-to-text dictation isn’t perfect under the best of situations, and certainly not with loud factory noises around you. But I tried it on dictating notes for my podcast a few times and it worked pretty well, all things considered. And a bad first draft is still a first draft.
So I figured, fuck it, and one night I just started dictating a story off the top of my head. No preparation, no outlining, no worldbuilding - just pantsing HARD with nothing but an annoyance following a Teen Wolf rewatch and a resolution not to edit until after I churned out a first draft.
It took fifty-one days.
Eighty thousand words or so later, I had a dreadful first draft which needed an absolute fuckton of editing and continuity correction and character work. BUT I had a finished first draft of a novel. Which is something I hadn’t had in a good long while.
So I tried it again for NaNoWriMo. I got up to 65k words. So I won NaNoWriMo, but I put the story aside because I hit a bit of a wall. Still! That’s almost two full fiction manuscripts in one year, AND the nonfiction memoir I wrote about my road trip to disaster sites during the pandemic. 2022 was a good writing year.
So I did what I do with first drafts and put them aside for a while. I knew they were awful. I knew they needed a ton of work. And maybe that was a tad intimidating, which is why I only JUST picked up the NaNoWriMo first draft to work on it and finish it off. It’s queer, it’s got time travel, it’s got disasters. It is right up my fucking alley. I may be just a tiny bit obsessed with that story.
Unsurprisingly, going through it now is taking more than a little while. I sit down, I spend an hour working on it, I maaaaaaybe get two paragraphs polished. If that.
But the fact that I’m working on ANY fiction is kind of remarkable. And fingers crossed, maybe I can get this damn thing, and the other manuscript, AND my road trip book, finished and polished over the next year so I can submit the fuck out of them.
NOW. Someone send me a twenty-pound bag of rooibos vanilla chai and ten pounds of red licorice laces. Mama’s gonna need it. *cracks knuckles*
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