#spring has arrived in the valley

[angelcakez-treehouse]

this piece killed me and took about a week but!! i love it a lot and i think it turned out very well. spring has arrived so that means snufkin has arrived in moomin valley.

[tomicaleto]

Something I was thinking about today: I wish video games like Stardew Valley or those that mirror our world had the option of choosing hemispheres, you know? Just at the beginning of the game, you pick language, your name and your hemisphere. Unless the game is set on a specific place, I don't think it would alter gameplay too much, but it would be neat having events themed to the correct seasons, you get me? I don't want autumn themed events during my spring time

[fishofthewoods]

I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"

Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.

In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.

In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.

In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?

In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.

The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.

And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?

And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?

Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.

The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.

The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.

They always come home eventually.

[fleuraliasave]

*OUTDATED NEW VERSION AVAILABLE HERE*

❤ Version 7.0 Fleuralia Save File ❤

Download link down below (please read entire post before installing)

This save file uses all EP’s, GP’s (not Journey to Batuu), SP’s and most of the kits (Country Kitchen, Blooming Rooms, Incheon Arrivals, Retro Fit, Industrial loft, Moonlight Chic, Little Campers, Pastel Pop, Everyday Clutter, Bathroom Clutter, Simtimates Collection, First Fits, Desert Luxe, Modern Luxe, Poolside Splash, Book Nook, Basement treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Pastel Pop and Bust the Dust).

What’s new in this update?:

Chestnut Ridge and Tomarang have been completely redone, added multiple new lots, updated other lots and provided make-overs for the households.

Added new households (when living in world; with jobs, friends, preferences etc).

Added rental lots in multiple other worlds outside of Tomarang (Brindleton Bay, Henford-on-Bagley, Britechester and more).

Spooky Fall Festival has been moved to Chestnut Ridge (bigger with haunted house ride). The old lot in Brindleton Bay has been changed into a cemetery.

Current Status of Worlds:

Finished worlds: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Windenburg, San Myshuno, Forgotten Hollow, Brindleton Bay, Del Sol Valley, StrangerVille, Glimmerbrook, Sulani, Britechester , Evergreen Harbor, Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia, Chestnut Ridge (NEW!) and Tomarang (NEW!).

Finished vacation worlds: Granite Falls and Selvadorada.

Finihed other lots: Hospital, Science Lab and the Police Station.

To be updated: the Magic Realm, will either be included in a future update or on the gallery (OriginID: fleuralia)

What do you get with this save?:

For my save file all lots are either completely new builds (almost all) or renovations, ofcourse created by me. Exceptions: I have added the official builds for the releases of the Paranormal SP by Dr Ashley and the Dream Home Decorator GP by Deligracy to this save, since I thought they deserved a spot. These two are therefore not my own creations, credits are given in the description to Dr Ashley and Deligracy. Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia and Chestnut Ridge lots are largely created by GameChangers. Most lots have gotten smaller updates, others are completely new builds by me.

All the townies had make-overs plus I added new families to spice it up a bit. Some of the townies are made by other creators, who are given credits in the description of the household. All the townies in the different worlds have a story, some include sentiments and adjusted relationships to the story.

Added plenty of community lots to give your Sims something to do (YAY!). Almost every world has one restaurant, but it also includes festivals that represent the four seasons (park lots) and a fully functional shopping street in Magnolia Promenade (toy store, bridal store and more).

I have added rental lots so you can go on vacation in more worlds. For example in Sulani, Willow Creek and Windenburg.

Other details:

As mentioned at the beginning, this save uses almost all packs (except Journey to Batuu and some kits). This means that if you download it without owning or installing most of the packs a lot of objects will disappear from the save, but if you are not bothered by this you can still download and play in it.  

I disabled the autonomous fame gain and neigborhood action plan voting/environmental changes, you enable them again in the pack settings menu.

I would love to add some households in this save created by all of you! Add your household under the hashtag #fleuraliatownies in The Sims 4 Gallery, you can add a storyline and world in the description but thats not obligatory. If I respond on your creation it means that I have incorporated it in the save for the next update.

Sadly every game update comes with a lot of bugs. I suggest before reporting problems in the save to me, to check on forums if its related to a general bug/glitch or to mods (if you use them).

Questions and supportive feedback are always welcome, you can reach me here via a comment on this post, an ask or through a DM 😁

How to make it work in your game:

Download the save file from the link below.

Drag it in your saves folder under: PC/Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/saves.

Change the numbers if you already have a save with the same name.

It should now show up in your game as: Fleuralia Save Version 7.0.

DOWNLOAD (SFS) / Alternate (GD)

!!Don’t re-upload or claim as your own!!

Future updates will follow after each pack release (if it includes a world). The time the update will be uploaded after each release depends on how much I have to change and on my work schedule around that time.

Last but not least, enjoy and till next time! XX

Fleuralia

Feel free to support me ❤️: Ko-fi account

[josefiendelphine]

✨🌿 The Sims 4 Lepacy Challenge is Here! 🌿✨

Calling all Simmers and legacy lovers! 🧬 This one is for you if you're craving a long-term, generation-spanning challenge that lets you dive deep into every expansion pack. Created by the incredible @sublimesims for the rules 📜 and myself for the visuals 🎨, we bring you the Sims 4 Lepacy Challenge! 🌈 Each generation is inspired by the packs and lets you explore new features, worlds, and ways to play—perfect for anyone who loves the storytelling possibilities of The Sims 4! 📚

Inspired by the classic Sims 3 Lepacy, this challenge gives us a chance to evolve gameplay each gen with new expansion packs 🌎, and only those packs (plus any optional add-ons, if you're feeling it!). It's not about cramming every feature in—it's about growing, evolving, and diving into each expansion with intention 🌱. Special shoutout to annaliesembsims, whose Sims 4 lepacy challenge inspired us too! 💖✨

Quick Start for Gen 1 💼🌆

Start off in one of the base game towns (Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, or Newcrest) 🌿🏡. Your founder sim arrives here, ready to build a life and career from scratch. They’ll make friends, fall in love with a townie 💑, and set the foundation for generations to come! Each gen has its own story and flavor, making it all about your unique sims’ adventures, dreams, and quirks. 🎉

From Get to Work 🏢👩‍⚕️ in Gen 2 to Horse Ranch 🐴🍇 in Gen 15, every expansion offers new goals and gameplay twists. Plus, each generation lists all the packs released the same year, so you can go all out if you want to keep it era-authentic. 🎞️🌌

Generations Overview 🌸

Without giving away too much, here’s a sneak peek of the vibes:

Gen 3: Move to Windenburg for those nightlife vibes with Get Together 🕺

Gen 5: Escape to Brindleton Bay for pet-friendly adventures in Cats & Dogs 🐾🐱

Gen 8: Relax in Sulani and embrace island life with Island Living 🌴🏖️

Gen 12: Settle in the countryside of Henford-on-Bagley in Cottage Living 🐔🏡

Gen 17: Find romance and adventure in Ciudad Enamorada with Lovestruck 💘🌆

With every new generation, you'll explore new worlds, max unique skills, fulfill exciting aspirations, and grow an unforgettable family story. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Each generation has its quirks, like maxing the DJ skill in Gen 3 🎧 or becoming a famous celeb in Del Sol Valley in Gen 7 🌟. And of course, in Gen 14, Growing Together has all the wholesome family moments and milestones 🍼🌻.

Ready to Begin? 🏁

Check out the full rules on my Patreon and Tumblr! Or go check it out by @sublimesims 📝💌 This challenge is packed with variety, fun, and a fresh take on legacy gameplay. Let’s see how far your family can go, from humble beginnings to worldwide fame, and everything in between! 🕰️👑 So, are you in? Let’s get le-gacy-ing! 🎮💥

Happy Simming! 🥂

[quarterlifekitty]

Midsommar!AU

cw: Midsommar spoilers, dark romance/obsession, Cult! König, implied death/murder, indoctrination, author’s König’s thinly veiled breeding kink

König has dreamed of you since he met you. A beautiful, perfect girl. He can already see the flowers woven through your hair as you dance in the sun, linen hugging your waist. A perfect May queen.

There’s the matter of your boyfriend. He wants to leave you behind, the bastard. Probably thinks he can get his fill of local women— he’s been dying to break up with you anyways. Ungrateful prick. If König had a woman like you… you’d be cherished. Never want for anything. So caring and sweet— you’re wasted on that boyfriend of yours. His family would love you. Appreciate you. Take you as one of their own.

If they didn’t, König would die in a fire like his parents did. But his intuition hasn’t led him astray yet. He just has to take the appropriate measures to make sure that you’ll come along…. And that there won’t be anything left to bring you back from his sunlit valley. When he’s done, you won’t even remember what life was like before.

He has to hold himself back quite a lot when he’s with you. From holding you. Comforting you the way the man he lives with— the one who has fucked you and yet spurns your embrace— has never done. He has to stop himself from going after you when you cry as he needles you, subtly, sympathetically, about your loss. The seed is planted.

When you arrive at the valley, the time blows by like blades of grass carried by wind. One event flows into the next. Your doubts festering as König takes every opportunity to hold you, to give you everything you’ve been denied while he leads you along. Until you know exactly where your happy ending will be, and exactly who is in the way of it coming true. Later, he will great pleasure in being the one to knock your boyfriend down and paralyze him.

For now, you are crowned. His may queen. You’re the one that makes the flowers come alive. He knows no greater happiness than what he feels seeing you in the garb of his home, pulled about and giggling by the other young women as they dress and decorate you, as they sing with you, and make you one of them. A soft, pretty, unburdened thing. Fit to be held, to be wed, to indulge. You appear even more weightless than you had in his dreams. He feels every pulse and tingle of blood beneath your skin as he holds you by your cheeks and kisses you as if he’s always known you, as if he’s just been waiting all of his life for the chance.

He’s awarded his own laurel for his unclouded intuition. Not nearly as bright and beautiful as yours, but he’s quite happy for you to be the sun. König is the flower that cannot help but bend towards your rays. When the festival is complete, he will ask the matriarch for her blessing. That is— assuming that she doesn’t match you together before then. The sooner you’re coupled to him, the sooner the two of you can go about making a spring baby, very auspicious.

And as the flames dance in your eyes, the screams echoing around you, the sweet smell of fresh and yew and hay filling the air, you smile. Unburdened. In that moment König knows that his life has all lead to you, to bringing you home.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

⚠️Timelock Key Spoilers⚠️

........

Oh my poor flowerboy 💔 the way he consoles himself for his failed efforts destroys me... and the way he talks about his soul being cursed... how he feels doomed or damaged to some extent... fuck this one hurts... Really hurts. I had to step away to collect my thoughts and emotions and legit broke down crying in the shower over it. I don't even know how I'm supposed to put my thoughts into words tbh... what even is happiness because idk anymore

Remember how MC told Sylus that flowers suit him better than Taurus City? Yet here he is in a place where none can grow.

Remember how Sylus said to MC that Taurus City can have flowers bloom everywhere but only for one person? And in the N109 Zone he tries his hardest to make that happen before her arrival but it's useless, no matter what he does.

Because the thing is.... the flowers can't bloom without MC in his life. Without her, the soil – and his life – is barren.

He is a flowerboy who can't grow flowers without his beloved.

What if I kms

"They just don't bloom at this time" he has to be patient... to wait for the right moment (14 years, to be exact).

Which brings me to an image from Tangible Shackles...

I think it's deeply meaningful and deliberate that we see this lone flower blooming in this desolate place in the same frame as Sylus walking on the road to reunion with his soulmate. I think it's representative not only of literal flowers beginning to bloom, but of Sylus' life as well.

Like I mention above I think we can interpret the flowers in the timelock key as also being representative of Sylus.

Remember how Sylus often likens MC to sunshine?

(There are more examples of him doing this but this video call is what first came to mind for me)

Well, if MC is Sylus' sunshine, and Sylus is a flowerboy, then it only makes sense that he needs her in order to bloom, doesn't it? To bring color and life into his existence.

And from what we do know of his existence before MC, it seems he was often bored and lonely (he had the twins and Mephie, yes, but they can't fill the void of his literal second half. No one can. He isn't complete without her and therefore cannot properly flourish).

And I mean... think about it. It's all in the imagery. When they're together, they're often surrounded by flowers and flower imagery. The Datura Field. The Grasslands. The wildlife park. The valley in Valleydream Bloom. The whole spring event.

It's very symbolic.

Another interpretation that can be made is that MC is the flower.

Sylus does after all call her that

She is his flower just like she is his sunshine. But it took time for her to "bloom". He had to be patient and wait for the right time for her to be ready. And he gave her that time – 14 years – and once they met, never pushing or forcing her (apart from early LAR but he learned his lesson and never repeated that mistake).

Idk does this make any sense? I'm honestly just in so much pain rn and it's pretty hard to try to theorize anything rn... I just know that this makes a lot of things (like Valleydream Bloom and the spring event) hit a lot harder... and also knowing how much he suffered emotionally in those years spent without her.

But on a brighter note, at least he can make flowers bloom now that he has his sunshine back 💗

He can finally give her that field of flowers he mentioned in Beyond Cloudfall 🥹

(Oh and can't believe I almost forgot to mention this but... SylusMC = HadesPersephone is becoming more and more real now, guys. The parallels are becoming so clear).

Ok so tomorrow's Timelock

... I see we're not done with the emotional suffering 💔 (play LADS they said... it'll be fun they said... no word about the pain and trauma and crying sessions in the shower...)

I interpret this as pre LAR (has to be since this is about uncovering Sylus' past). I think it's meant to represent how Sylus was keeping watch over MC from a distance... hidden and unknown to her. Too selfless in his love to approach her. Willing to wait in silence. For her to be ready to turn around and come to him rather than go to her himself.

Like the Sweet Evil Trap states "I'm waiting for you". Not "I'm coming for you" or "Come find me". It says everything about him, doesn't it? How much he values her autonomy and free will. How unselfish he is in his love. How willing he is to suffer through being without the 10.5 grams of his soul for her sake.

[dark-corner-cunning]

🌕The Full Pink Moon in Libra: The Balancing Moon 🌕

Full Pink Moon Blessings!

As the hills of the Dark Corner stir with the rising warmth of spring, the Full Pink Moon casts her glow upon the land. This moon, so named for the moss phlox that carpets the Appalachian valleys and ridges in shades of soft pink, heralds the true arrival of the season’s fertility. In the old ways of the mountain folk, the Pink Moon is a time of renewal, love, and setting right the balance between ourselves and the land.

In the night’s hush, the spirits of the woods and hollers move differently, as the shifting season calls forth growth, both seen and unseen. This is a moon of beauty, but also one of power—the quiet yet undeniable force of harmony reasserting itself after the harshness of winter.

------

The Full Pink Moon in Appalachian Folk Tradition

In the traditions of Appalachian folk wisdom, the Pink Moon is a moon of awakening. It marks the time when the land’s vitality surges, waking the roots and calling forth the blossoms. Among the mountain cunning folk, this moon was a time for purification, love workings, and making peace—whether with the spirits of the land, one’s kin, or oneself.

Spring planting is well underway, and as new life takes hold in the soil, so too must balance be found within our own lives. This is a time to clear away lingering conflicts, mend broken ties, and ensure that what we nurture—whether in the garden or within ourselves—has strong and healthy roots.

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Astrology of the Full Pink Moon in Libra

Astrologically, the Full Moon in Libra shines its silver light on relationships, justice, and equilibrium. Libra, ruled by Venus, is the sign of harmony, beauty, and fairness. This moon illuminates where imbalance exists—whether in love, friendships, or within our own spirits. Libra calls us to restore right relationship, both in the mundane and the magical realms.

But under this moon, the scales are not just for weighing what is fair, but also for measuring truth. This is a time when hidden tensions rise to the surface, requiring clarity and decisive action. Full moons always bring revelations, and in Libra, they ask us to see the reflections in our relationships—what we give, what we take, and where we must realign for our own well-being.

With the sun in Aries opposing this moon, there is a tension between the self (Aries) and the other (Libra). Do we stand firm in our desires, or do we compromise for the sake of peace? Do we honor our own needs, or do we give too much? These are the questions this moon brings to our feet like offerings on the altar.

------

5 Ideas for the Full Pink Moon in Libra

A Mirror Spell for Clarity in Relationships – Take a small hand mirror and cleanse it under moonlight. Speak to it as though you are speaking to your own reflection, asking the moon to show you what is hidden in your relationships. Use this moment to scry, journal, or simply reflect on what surfaces.

A Balance Rite with Land Spirits – Stand in a natural place, barefoot if possible. Hold two small stones in your hands—one representing what you give, the other what you receive. Whisper to them your intentions for balance and fairness, then place them back upon the land.

A Pink Moon Beauty & Attraction Ritual – As Libra is ruled by Venus, this is a powerful moon for beauty spells. Create an enchanted bath with rose petals, lavender, jasmine, and pink salt... or with whatever calls to you. As you bathe, visualize washing away self-doubt and stepping into your own power and charm.

Binding & Unbinding Work – Libra’s energy can be used both to forge bonds and to release them.

A Hearth & Home Blessing – The Pink Moon is a time of unity and peace. This full moon is a great time to invite harmony and loving energy into your home.

------

2 Reflection Questions for the Full Pink Moon in Libra

Where in my life do I need to restore balance, and what steps can I take to realign with my true path?

In what ways do I give and receive in my relationships, and how can I ensure fairness in my exchanges?

As the Full Pink Moon rises over the mountains, casting her soft glow over the hollows and hills, may we find harmony in her light. Let her show us what must be restored, what must be released, and what must be cherished as we walk the Cunning Path.

[pitviperofdoom]

I've said before that TAZ Balance is a great fandom for crossover AUs because you can have the Starblaster land in pretty much any fandom world at some point during the Stolen Century and it works out

And proof of this is that buried in my google docs is an outline of a crossover fic where the Starblaster touches down in Moominvalley.

Obviously I wasn't going to let the Hunger devour this particular world, so they do wind up finding the Light of Creation in time, but unfortunately they find it in the hands of the Groke, who doesn't want to give it up because it turns out their powers cancel each other out, allowing her to approach people without freezing them to death. (Obviously Magnus is the first to befriend her, and they eventually solve this by crafting her some stones of farspeech so she can at least talk to people even if she can't get close to them anymore)

Also the longer they stayed in Moominvalley the more it gets "infected" by D&D mechanics, to the point where Snufkin starts granting Bardic Inspiration and Moomintroll finds out he can Action Surge. (Sniff gets really good at the Disengage and Dodge actions.)

No clue if I'll ever go back to it but just for fun here's what I wrote for it:

Barely a week after the start of spring, a ship descended into the valley and landed far too close for comfort by Moominmamma’s flower beds.

Moominpappa was smoking on the porch when it happened, having woken up with the sun before anyone else in the house. It was a gray, overcast morning, with the sky still shaking off the winter weather, but all at once it seemed as though the clouds had parted. As he watched, pipe tumbling from his lips, the dense cloud cover split around the silvery hull of a sailing vessel.

And oh, how impressive it was! It rivalled even Hodgkins’ Amphibian in pure impressiveness. From one end to the other the ship shone like polished metal--perhaps that was what it was--and there seemed to be a faint shimmering bubble around it. At the stern, a large, glowing white ring rotated slowly, flashing in the sunlight that peeked through the now scattered clouds.

The air hummed as the ship touched down not far from where Pappa sat watching its arrival in speechless awe. It didn’t seem very loud to his ears, but a moment later Moominmamma opened the door and stepped outside, perplexed.

“Now what’s all this?” she asked. “You weren’t expecting visitors this morning, were you, Pappa?”

“I wasn’t,” Moominpappa admitted, getting up to retrieve his dropped pipe. “How strange. Has Hodgkins built something new?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose,” Moominmamma said. “I’ll set a few more places at the table, just in case.”

Moominpappa squinted. HIs eyesight wasn’t what it used to be, but he could make out a number of figures standing on the deck. He counted five at first, but as he approached the silver ship and its spinning ring, he spotted two more.

“Hello!” he called up. “Hodgkins, I don’t suppose that’s you, is it?”

At first there was no answer, aside from the shimmery bubble flickering out. Moominpappa squinted. The ship’s crew appeared to be conferring with one another. After a moment, one of their number broke away from the rest. A small staircase lowered itself from the hull, and the individual descended the steps cautiously.

Moominpappa blinked, then tipped his head back a little. The person before him, who was quite tall and broad enough to resemble a bear, offered a friendly smile that was only slightly offset by his noticeable black eye. After a moment, he extended a thickly muscled arm for a handshake.

“Hail and well met!” the newcomer greeted.

---

As bizarre dimensions went, a world populated by talking white hippo creatures ranked pretty low compared to what they’d already seen. Still, there had been a terrifying moment in which Magnus wondered whether or not the creature he was greeting was even sentient.

But the moment passed, and the hippo(?) accepted his handshake with a cheerful, “Welcome to Moominvalley! That’s quite a ship you have there,” in a deep baritone voice that definitely sounded out of place coming from a vaguely marshmallow-shaped creature with a top hat and a pipe.

A response like that meant a lot of things. One, they were probably friendly. And two, a giant flying ship landing near their backyard apparently wasn’t that weird. It was good to set parameters like that. 

“Uh, thanks!” Turning, Magnus waved up to the others. “So anyway, we’re super sorry for landing right next to your house, if you want us to move we totally can, just give us a minute…” 

“You’re fine, as long as you don’t flatten the rosebushes by accident,” the creature chuckled, pausing to puff on his pipe. “If you’d like, you can tell us all about it over breakfast.”

“You know what, that sounds awesome,” Magnus said, sincerely. It was always nice to find a world that appreciated good old-fashioned Rustic Hospitality. “Quick question, though, just to get it out of the way… have you seen any bright lights, recently?”

“Bright lights…” The hippo’s round dark eyes squinted thoughtfully. “What sort of bright lights?”

“Oh, you couldn’t miss it,” Magnus replied. “White, sparkly, falling out of the sky, fills you with the overwhelming need to go out and get it… have you seen anything like that?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” the creature said, sounding genuinely regretful. 

It was Magnus’s turn to squint. In past worlds, the Light of Creation had been craveable enough for people to lie to keep them away from it, but after ninety-odd years Magnus was reasonably certain that he could tell one way or the other. Hippo Man seemed truthful. “Well, that’s all right. Thanks anyway.”

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out, just in case,” the creature offered. “In any case, the offer of breakfast still stands. Feel free to invite your friends; we don’t mind guests around here.”

“Oh, sweet. Uh, there’s like seven of us, if that’s okay.”

“The more the merrier! I’ll go and let Moominmamma know. It’s a lovely morning; we might as well set up the breakfast table outside today.” With that, the hippo tipped his top hat to Magnus and turned to walk back to the tall house.

Magnus watched him go. “Huh.”

It had been less than a week since they first slipped into this dimension with the Hunger snapping at their heels, and they had spent most of that time orbiting the planet to take stock of it from afar. First contact with the locals was always a gamble, so a friendly first impression was always a good sign.

“Magnus?” Davenport called down. “How does it look down there? Was that creature friendly?”

“Yeah, I’ll say!” Magnus answered. “We’re invited to breakfast!”

Davenport opened his mouth to reply, only to be shoved unceremoniously out of the way as Taako bypassed the stairs and vaulted over the railing. “Hell yeah, I’m starving!” Lup was close behind, taking the steps three at a time.

“Hey, wait a minute, we don’t know if what they’re serving is even safe!” Davenport shouted after them.

“We have spells for that, dingus!” Lup yelled back without looking over her shoulder.

Davenport sighed and let them go before turning to Magnus. “Any sign of the Light of Creation?”

“He said he hasn’t seen it,” Magnus answered. “I don’t think he was lying, but…”

Merle’s head poked over the railing. “Ooh, that’s my time to shine! Be right down!” 

Davenport sighed in resignation, threw his hands upward, and followed. From what Magnus could tell, Lucretia and Barry were close behind him.

By the time everyone had disembarked, and Magnus had gone up to the ship to check on Fisher, breakfast was just about ready. There was a long table set up out on the grass, covered in a clean white tablecloth and set with eleven places and plates piled high with pancakes and fresh fruit. There were three hippo-creatures now; aside from the original in the top hat, there was one in an apron and a smaller one with no adornments at all. Two parents and a kid, maybe? On the table--literally on the table--was a little girl nimbly dodging the dishes to put down silverware. She was tiny: small enough to fit in the palm of Magnus’s hand. Even the smallest gnomes and halflings would tower over her; Davenport certainly did.

As Magnus watched, fascinated by the idyllic little scene, the smallest hippo began laying out a twelfth place setting. The tiny girl rounded on him, hands on her hips.

“What are you doing, Moomintroll?” she demanded. “There are four of us and seven of them, we don’t need any more plates.”

“It’s just in case!” the hippo creature answered, a little defensively. 

The girl rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m bothering asking,” she said. “It’s not even a week into spring, you know.”

“Now, Little My,” the apron-wearer chided her gently. “It never hurts to be prepared, no matter who happens to show up.” She turned to the crew of the Starblaster with a warm smile. “Of course, you’re all very welcome. You look as if you’ve had a long journey.”

“You have nooo idea,” Lup muttered.

“I believe introductions are in order,” Top Hat said, clapping his hands together. “You may call me Moominpappa.”

“I am Moominmamma,” the apron-wearer said. “But please, feel free to call me Mamma if you like.”

“I’m Moomintroll,” the third creature piped up. “This is our friend LIttle My.”

“I can speak for myself,” Little My said pointedly.

“One of these things is not like the other,” Taako singsonged under his breath. Magnus dug his elbow into the elf’s ribs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Davenport said, puffing his chest out as he stepped up as the leader. “I am Captain Davenport of the Starblaster, and these are my crewmates and friends. Thank you very much for your hospitality.”

“Well, then, why don’t we all eat?” Moominmamma suggested, pressing her hands together. “We can all get to know each other over a good meal.”

---

Such interesting strangers, Moomintroll thought. They all wore such pretty red coats and came in all sizes, from Captain Davenport whose head barely reached the top of Moomintroll’s snout, to Mr. Magnus Burnsides who towered over everyone. Some of them were beautiful, like quiet Lucretia with her white hair, and Lup and Taako with their long pointed ears and matching faces. Others were more plain but still friendly-looking, like bespectacled Barry and stout Merle.

And the ship. Was this what the Oshun Oxtra of Pappa’s stories had looked like, after Hodgkins taught it to fly? Pappa never said anything about a spinning white ring.

In any case, there were a lot of names to learn, and Moomintroll did his best, though he wasn’t quite sure which one was Lup and which was Taako. At the moment one of them was chatting with Mamma, asking about her pancake recipe.

Somehow, Little My had ended up sitting right next to Magnus, whose name Moomintroll couldn’t possibly forget because of how incredibly big he was. He couldn’t help but think that if Little My were to fall from a great height and land on Magnus’s head, Magnus would hardly notice.

“So what sort of creature are you, to get so big?” Little My asked boldly.

“Oh, I’m just a human,” Magnus answered. “Er… do you guys have humans around here?”

“None in Moominvalley, that’s for sure,” Moomintroll answered.

“I’ve never heard of a human before,” Little My said.

“Yeah, that’s fine, wouldn’t be the first time,” Magnus said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Little My asked suspiciously.

“It means we’re not from around here, darling,” the woman who was either Lup or Taako replied. Even their voices were similar, almost musical in the way they traveled through the octaves.

“I was wondering about that,” Mamma said. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?”

“Yes, and what brings you here?” Pappa added eagerly. “I’m always eager to hear news from travelers.”

Their breakfast guests exchanged glances. They didn’t look suspicious about it; they looked to Moomintroll as if they simply didn’t know how to answer.

“How far did you travel to get here?” he tried. “It must have been far, if you have a ship that flies. Did you come from over the ocean?”

“We came from beyond the stars,” one of them, whose name Moomintroll had regrettably forgotten, said at last.

“Barold,” one of the twins warned.

“What?” Barold shrugged. “At this point, what do we really have to lose by telling the truth?”

“Yeah that’s a good idea, telling the truth,” Merle said with a grin.

“No, wait--!” Davenport protested. 

For a moment, Moomintroll felt lightheaded. Before he even had time to worry about it, the strange dizzy spell had already passed, leaving him none the worse for wear. He shook his head in confusion.

“So, any of you guys seen the Light of Creation in the past couple of weeks?” Merle asked.

“The Light of Creation?” Mamma echoed. “That sounds lovely. I haven’t the faintest idea what it is, I’m afraid.”

“It’s hard to explain exactly what it is or what it’s made of, in literal and scientific terms,” Barold replied. “Mostly because we still aren’t sure ourselves. But in appearance it manifests as a bright light, about so big.” He held his hands apart. “You would know it if you saw it. It would have been seen falling from the sky.”

Little My raised her hand in triumph. “I haven’t seen anything,” she said loftily. A look of confusion crossed her face. “I mean, I haven’t seen the light you’re talking about.” Her confusion turned to a frown, and then a scowl. “I haven’t seen it. I haven’t seen it.”

“What’s the matter?” Mamma asked. “It’s alright if you haven’t seen it. I don’t think any of us have.”

“I was trying to say I had so that I could play a trick on them!” Little My blurted out, then clapped her paws over her mouth. 

“Are you feeling alright, Little My?” Moomintroll asked.

“I keep saying things I don’t mean to—!” Little My stopped talking for a moment, still pressing her paws to her mouth. Her scowl deepened, more thoughtful than angry, before she finally lowered her paws and leveled a smirk at him. “Hey Moomintroll, who did you set the extra place at the table for?”

Moomintroll opened his mouth to say Sniff, or Too-Ticky, or Snorkmaiden, or even the Hemulen. What came out instead was, “It’s for Snufkin, if he comes back today.” He froze, wide-eyed, one paw flying to his mouth.

“Moominpappa, tell a lie!” Little My said.

Pappa looked confused for a moment before replying, “You’re behaving very oddly at the moment.” He blinked. “Oh, my. That’s not what I meant to say at all.”

Little My leapt up onto the table, sending Magnus’s glass of raspberry juice flying. “You!” she shouted, pointing across the table to Merle. “You said something about telling the truth, and now none of us can tell a lie!”

“Let me see,” Mamma said. “I find Ms. Fillyjonk to be excellent company. Sniff is fearless and selfless and a very good cook. It is currently raining. …No, I can still tell lies.”

Moomintroll looked to Merle, who had stuffed half a pancake into his mouth to keep from having to reply. Davenport and Lucretia had their heads in their paws.

One of the twins barely looked up from his food as he replied, “Merle cast a spell that makes you tell the truth.”

Merle almost choked on his mouthful. “Well don’t talk if you got caught up in it too!” 

“I didn’t. You’re just being an idiot.”

“Incredible,” Pappa murmured.

“Not really,” the other twin said, lazily lifting her paw. Before the eyes of everyone at the table, her slender paw burst into flame. Before Moomintroll could think of grabbing the juice pitcher, the fire went out without leaving a single scorch mark behind. “Most of us can do stuff like that. It’s whatever.”

Little My almost dove over the table. “Can you teach me to do that?”

“Maybe some other time, punkin.”

Barold cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said, “Sorry about Merle, that’s the only spell he knows.”

“Is not! Who healed your ass five times in the last cycle?”

“As I was saying,” Barold went on. “You were asking us where we came from?”

“Yes, you mentioned stars,” Mamma replied.

Moomintroll sat up straighter. Stars were always worth discussing. “You said beyond the stars,” he added.

“Yes,” Davenport said reluctantly. “I don’t suppose you know about other worlds, do you?”

“Other planets, maybe,” Moomintroll said. “And the Hobgoblin was up on the moon for a while, but he doesn’t really live there.”

[sweetteaanddragons]

B2MEM - "Hope" (Again)

@spring-into-arda (450)

Elrond had come to Aman to heal. For the most part, people had respected this; he had been left alone in the new valley he had chosen with only his closest family and stubbornest followers surrounding him.

He had not expected the High King to be the first to interrupt that streak.

“Forgive me,” he said, as he poured the tea for the first unexpected guest he’d had since his arrival. “I should have come to present myself to you long before now.”

The king - his several times great uncle? His grandfather-in-law? - accepted the cup but only seemed more uncomfortable for it. He set it on the low wall beside his chair in the courtyard almost immediately. “Nothing of the sort. I have heard how exhausted you were. I should beg your forgiveness for intruding now, especially on a matter of politics.”

Elrond sipped his own tea. “Politics?” he asked politely.

Finarfin sighed. “You may have heard that the Valar have been considering the case of Feanaro for some time now.”

Elrond went still. “I had not.”

“It has been . . . a very long time since the case begun. I suppose it was old news to everyone by the time . . . regardless. They have reached a decision, of sorts. They have decided that since it is primarily the elves that were hurt by his decisions, not themselves, that the matter ought to be decided by the elves.”

“So you have been asked . . . ?”

“They have decided it should be determined democratically.”

Elrond was, distantly, very glad that he was currently a long way from Tirion.

“There are three main strands of thought at the moment,” Finarfin said after a long pause. “Feanaro’s followers, of course, are agitating for his release. Others are arguing that he should remain in the halls of the dead indefinitely.” For a moment, he looked impossibly weary. “I know what you have lost because of him, but I hoped I could convince you to stand publicly for the latter option. It would hold weight with many. If you would allow me to present my case - ”

His first response to this he bit back against his tongue. “Three strands of thought,” he said instead. “What is the third?”

Finarfin swallowed. “That we should take him at his word,” he said quietly, “and consign him to the Darkness.”

For just a moment, even the eternal sunshine of Aman seemed to dim.

“Five minutes of your time,” Finarfin pleaded quietly. “Let me present my argument.”

The weariness that even now had been his constant companion was firmly pushed back. “Allow me to save you the time,” he said. “I stand with the Feanorians on this. How stand the rest of the votes?”

[whencyclopedia]

How Death Came into the World (Modoc Legend)

How Death Came into the World is a legend of the Modoc nation whose ancestral lands once covered the region of modern-day northeastern California and southern Oregon, USA. Their story of the origin of death shares many similarities with those of other Native peoples of North America as well as with the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Pit River Valley, Modoc County, California

Robert F. Ettner (Public Domain)

The Modoc were 'discovered' by Euro-Americans c. 1820 in their ancestral lands of what is now southern Oregon and northern California. They are described by the American ethnographer James Mooney (l. 1861-1921) as a small band who were culturally isolated, which makes the similarities between How Death Came into the World and the Orpheus/Eurydice myth all the more interesting.

The Modoc had been living in the region for approximately 14,000 years before the arrival of the Euro-Americans but, by 1864, had been forcibly relocated to reservations, eventually two separate ones in the territories of modern Oklahoma and Oregon. They retained their stories, however, including How Death Came into the World, which is still told today.

The main character of the tale, Kumokums, is the Creator God of the Modoc (also known as Kemush, Kumokum, Kumush, Koomookumpts, Gmukamps) and his name is translated as "Old Man of the Ancients" or "Primeval Old Man", suggesting his existence from the beginning of time. In one version of the Modoc Creation Story, Kumokums travels to the Land of the Dead to select the spirits that would animate the people of four tribes of the region: the Shasta, the Warm Springs, the Klamath, and the Modoc. In How Death Came into the World, he again travels to the Land of the Dead but, this time, to bring back the spirit of his recently deceased daughter.

Native American Death Origin Myths

Native American origin myths concerning death are remarkably similar, even when the nations have had no known contact with each other prior to Euro-American contact and efforts to synthesize cultural beliefs as expressed in Native American literature. Scholar Larry J. Zimmerman writes:

Most accounts of the origin of death accept the logic that space is limited on Earth and room needs to be made for new life. On the whole, the afterlife is regarded as a place much like this one but with more game, corn, or whatever was prized…Almost all Indian peoples believed in some plane of existence beyond the realm of the living, but descriptions of the afterlife differed greatly, and the issue of what happens to the soul after death was a highly complex one for many tribes.

(246)

As Zimmerman notes, there was no doubt – for many, if not all Native American nations – that the soul survived physical death and went on to another realm, but that did very little to help a survivor deal with the grief of their loss. Native American origin myths concerning death tried to assist with that by explaining how death came to be and how even those responsible for the decision suffered the same grief at their loss.

The basic paradigm involves a figure of some degree of authority who makes a decision concerning mortality, then loses someone close to them, and wishes to reverse their earlier judgment – but, once the choice has been spoken into existence, it cannot be taken back.

Modoc Harvest Diorama

Michael Barera (CC BY-SA)

The Kiowa of the Plains Indians culture have a similar tale, sometimes given as How Death Came into the World and sometimes as Why the Ant is Almost Cut in Two, which follows this same model. In that story, the trickster figure Saynday (well-known from the Saynday tales) interacts with Red Ant as they discuss mortality and Saynday's concept of resurrecting the dead after four days. Red Ant rejects his proposal, claiming there are already too many living things on the earth and death is necessary to make room for those yet to be born or already living. Saynday agrees with her and decrees death as the final chapter of life on earth but, when Red Ant's son is killed, her grief is so intense she tries to kill herself, wishing she could have back what she had lost.

The Shoshone (Shoshoni) nation has a similar tale in which the central characters are Wolf and Coyote. Wolf suggests that death should be only a temporary state, which one could return from if the living enact a certain ritual that includes shooting an arrow beneath the deceased. Coyote rejects this plan, noting that there would then be too many of the living and resources would be spread too thinly. Wolf accepts Coyote's suggestion and decrees death as a permanent state, but when Coyote's son is killed, he comes to Wolf and asks that the decision be reversed. Wolf then reminds him that it was Coyote himself who insisted on death as a permanent state and that decision cannot now be altered.

Other Native American nations have similar origin stories for death, but the Modoc tale is unique in that it also provides an explanation of why the people had winter and summer camps, how their calendar was devised, and a detailed description of the Land of the Dead.

The story is also of interest to anthropologists, historians, and literary scholars for its similarity to the story of Orpheus and Eurydice from Greek mythology, which makes it stand out; as scholar Alice Marriott phrases it, "the Orpheus-Eurydice theme is unusual in North American Indian mythology" (190). There is no known record of interaction between the Modoc and anyone who would have known the Orpheus/Eurydice tale prior to contact between the Modoc nation and Euro-Americans, and How Death Came into the World is understood to pre-date that time as it seems to have already long been a part of the Modoc oral literary tradition.

Continue reading...

[usonofallama]

🗺️ Geography & Region Logic

Last Updated: 05/12/25

This is a long-ass masterpost where I break down how the worlds in my save connect culturally, regionally, and politically. It’s not about exact replicas, but resonance.

I’ve been obsessed with geography and history since elementary, and after years working in hospitality, medical tourism, and professional language interpretation, it was only natural I’d end up wanting my sim worlds to reflect real cultural friction, flow, and complexity.

Every EA world (as of 2025), from Newcrest to Nordhaven, is mapped here with a real-world logic: how people speak, how laws work, what histories get remembered, and how land is treated. Some TS3 worlds are referred where TS4 falls short in representing a certain culture or region. I use the following mods (plus a healthy dose of play-pretend) to build the gameplay experience I want:

Basemental Drugs by Basemental

Home Regions & Townie Demographics by Kuttoe

Language Barriers by Frankk

LGBTQIA+ Mod by Lumpinou

No Townie Generation and Relaxed Filters by @down-in-simsland

Worlds are grouped by continental region.

For exact lot placements, see Save Details For gameplay systems and tuning, see Gameplay & Management

🌎 New World

🌲 Northern Simsonia

These are quiet places where environmental policy is tight, unions still matter, and people pretend not to gossip. It’s all flannel, regional crafts, and seasonal depression. Green tech is big. So is the lumber industry. Old colonial scars show up in architecture and labor.

Evergreen Harbor

Moonwood Mill

Spoken Languages: Simlish, Françims, Windenburgish, Native Dialects.

Cannabis Legal Status: Fully legal for medical and recreational use.

Gambling Legal Status: Heavily restricted.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Very accepting.

Outbound Migration: To West Coast, SimNation for education and green innovation.

Inbound Migration: From SimNation's Deep South and Central Simsonia seeking stability and rights

🦅 North Simsonia A.K.A. SimNation

Four distinct regions, tech-saturated coastlines, wealth gaps across blocks, and rural pockets bound by tradition and bureaucracy. Public services depend on your zip code. So do your rights. Every region calls itself the heart of the nation; none of them agree what that means. Family structures evolve faster than the infrastructure. Political slogans change faster than the roads get fixed. It’s the dream, the dystopia, and the brunch menu, depending on where you land.

🌉 West Coast

Del Sol Valley

San Myshuno

San Sequoia

Oasis Springs

🗻 Native Lands

Chestnut Ridge

Granite Falls

Strangerville

🎡 Northeast

Copperdale

🌪️ Deep South

Magnolia Promenade

Newcrest

Willow Creek

Spoken Languages: Simlish, Selvadoradian, Tartosiano, Windenburgish, Komorebigo.

Cannabis Legal Status: Recreational use legal in the West Coast and Northeast; medical only in the Deep South; decriminalized elsewhere.

Gambling Legal Status: Legal in Del Sol Valley and Strangerville; restricted or outlawed in most other regions.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Mixed, historically inclusive, structurally hostile.

Outbound Migration: High. SimNationals move everywhere, usually calling themselves 'expats' intead of immigrants, avoiding local taxes and raising life expenses. Common destinations include the Old World, Central Simsonia, and Sulani.

Inbound Migration: Very High. SimNation is seen as an opportunity hub, but also as a gentrifier magnet. Many arrive for education, media, or survival, but not always by choice.

🌶️ Central Simsonia

Language has texture. History is living. Family extends beyond blood. Laws vary by state, and bureaucracy is both maze and muscle. These worlds are intense in feeling: big food, bigger grief, and joy as defiance. The past isn’t past. It’s cooking in the kitchen.

Ciudad Enamorada

Selvadorada

Spoken Languages: Selvadoradian, Simlish, Native Dialects.

Cannabis Legal Status: Legal for personal cultivation and medical use; decriminalized in urban zones.

Gambling Legal Status: Illegal in Selvadorada; tightly regulated in Ciudad Enamorada.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Mixed

Outbound Migration: Moderate. Many leave for work or educational opportunities in SimNation or the Old World, some others want security and stability, often returning seasonally.

Inbound Migration: Moderate. Movement from Old World and Caribbean diasporas, as well as regional migration from rural to urban centers.

🏝️ Caribbean

Fluid identities, vivid resistance, and joy you have to earn. Creole blends, diasporic layers, and island economies shaped by both tourism and trauma. Land is unstable in more ways than one. Nothing works the first time. Everything has meaning.

Isla Paradiso

Spoken Languages: Françims, Selvadoradian, Native Dialects, Simlish.

Cannabis Legal Status: Decriminalized for personal use; culturally tolerated, inconsistently enforced.

Gambling Legal Status: Legal in tourist zones; culturally contested in residential areas.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Legally Recognized, Socially Negotiated.

Outbound Migration: High. Driven by economic instability and environmental precarity. Migrants often go to SimNation or the Old World.

Inbound Migration: Low. Primarily retirees, tourists, or diasporic returnees. Often seasonal or dual-national.

🌍 Old World

🫖 Old Kingdom

Tea, titles, and weather complaints. Classism runs under everything. Education is the real currency. Everyone says sorry before they curse you out. Gender roles are rigid until they’re not. Charm is a weapon.

Britechester

Henford-on-Bagley

Spoken Languages: Old Simlish, Tartosiano, Françims, Selvadoradian.

Cannabis Legal Status: Legal for medical use; decriminalized recreationally, socially taboo in elite circles.

Gambling Legal Status: Legal but highly regulated; mostly digital or private-club based.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Legally Protected, Socially Reserved

Outbound Migration: High. Especially younger or educated Sims seeking better prospects in SimNation, Tomarang, or Sulani.

Inbound Migration: Moderate. Often from former colonies or treaty nations; many arrive for cultural, historical, or educational ties.

🍻 Windenburg

Rules, rituals, and nightlife. These worlds run on efficiency and inherited systems, both technological and social. Paganism never fully left. Public transport works. Art galleries double as punk venues. Regional pride is strong.

Glimmerbrook

Windenburg

Spoken Languages: Windenburgish, Nordska, Old Simlish, Ravena

Cannabis Legal Status: Legal for recreational and medicinal use; socially integrated, especially in wellness and academic circles

Gambling Legal Status: Mostly prohibited, with underground exceptions; tolerated at festivals or private events

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Quietly Accepting

Outbound Migration: Low. Windenburgers are deeply rooted and tend to stay, though some artists and scholars relocate to San Myshuno or Mt. Komorebi.

Inbound Migration: Moderate. Attracts creatives, occult seekers, and mystics. Immigration is selective but culturally tolerated.

🧊 Nordska

Quiet minimalism. Public funding. Cool-toned everything. These places believe in collective care and individual mystique. You’re expected to respect the land and mind your business. The supernatural? It’s just science no one’s published yet.

Nordhaven

Spoken Languages: Nordska, Windenburgish, Old Simlish, Ravena

Cannabis Legal Status: Legal for medical use; decriminalized recreationally, with cultural emphasis on discretion.

Gambling Legal Status: Restricted; state-run lotteries allowed, private betting discouraged.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Normalized

Outbound Migration: Low. Emigration mostly for global research, humanitarian work, or exchange programs.

Inbound Migration: Moderate. Highly skilled migrants welcomed, especially from Glimmerbrook, East Simla, and parts of SimNation.

🦇 Ravena

History sleeps badly here. Magic is hereditary and grief is ceremonial. Faith is private, but altars are everywhere. You don’t name what haunts you unless you want it listening. Beauty is precise. Revenge is a valid response.

Forgotten Hollow

Ravenwood

Spoken Languages: Ravena, Tartosiano, Selvadoradian

Cannabis Legal Status: Illegal; culturally taboo.

Gambling Legal Status: Technically legal but heavily stigmatized.

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Secretive but deep-rooted

Outbound Migration: Very Low. Locals rarely leave. Cultural, spiritual, and ancestral ties run deep.

Inbound Migration: Very Low. Outsiders rarely stay. Those who do tend to be occult-aligned or deeply isolated. Border laws unclear, likely symbolic.

🏛️ Mediterranean

Sensory overload in the best way. Everything’s seasonal: food, mood, affection. Bureaucracy is a nightmare but life is slow when it matters. Family is everything, even when it shouldn’t be. Everyone’s always yelling — or flirting.

Monte Vista

Tartosa

Spoken Languages: Tartosiano, Françims, Selvadoradian, Ravena

Cannabis Legal Status: Legal for medicinal use; decriminalized for personal possession

Gambling Legal Status: Legal, lightly regulated

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Loud Tolerance, Quiet Policing

Outbound Migration: High. Economic precarity pushes Sims toward SimNation, Brindleton Bay, or Tomarang.

Inbound Migration: High. Driven by tourism, dual nationals, and lifestyle migrants from SimNation and the Old Kingdom.

🎨 France

This is where romance meets existential dread. Laws are secular, attitudes aren’t. Style is serious business. Protests are a national pastime. Nostalgia for the old republic blends with modern burnout. Wine is cheaper than water.

Champs Les Sims

Spoken Languages: Françims, Tartosiano, Selvadoradian, Old Simlish

Cannabis Legal Status: Decriminalized for personal use; medical permitted with restrictions

Gambling Legal Status: Legal and regulated, mostly state-run

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Bureaucratically Queer

Outbound Migration: Moderate. Many young or disillusioned Sims leave for SimNation, Del Sol Valley, or Tomarang in pursuit of creative freedom, economic opportunity, or less rigid systems.

Inbound Migration: Moderate. Artists, romantics, and heritage tourists drift in. The region attracts those chasing nostalgia or aesthetic intensity — not always long-term settlers.

⛩️ Simla

🎌 United Prefectures of East Simla

Order is sacred, but not static. Culture here moves like a brushstroke: intentional, layered, never rushed. There’s reverence for ancestry, innovation without arrogance, and beauty in daily precision. Collectivism isn’t about sameness, but about harmony. Even if that harmony includes contradiction. Silence is etiquette. Formality is armor. And love, art, and protest all follow the same unspoken choreography: everything in its right place, until it isn’t.

Mt. Komorebi

Spoken Languages: Komorebigo, Simlish, Simla Nuo

Cannabis Legal Status: Decriminalized; restricted medicinal use allowed

Gambling Legal Status: Legal in licensed venues, highly regulated

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Respectful silence

Outbound Migration:

Inbound Migration:

🏯 Simla Basin

The Basin doesn’t forget. Empires, dynasties, revolutions: all have left their stamp. What remains is a culture where reverence and resistance coexist. Ghosts are real, and they demand precision. Respect, lineage, and duty shape identity. Bureaucracy is dense. Wisdom is spoken slowly, if at all.

Shang Simla

Spoken Languages: Simla Nuo, Simlish, Komorebigo

Cannabis Legal Status: Illegal; culturally taboo

Gambling Legal Status: Legal in designated cities, state-run

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Censored publicly, expressed privately

Outbound Migration:

Inbound Migration:

🛕 Southeast Simla

Hot, fast, layered. These regions pulse with economic flux and spiritual realism. Street food is religion. Law enforcement is complicated. Generosity is communal. Resistance lives in the open. Rituals are both sacred and monetized.

Tomarang

Spoken Languages: Tomaru, Komorebigo, Old Simlish, Toki Sulani

Cannabis Legal Status: Technically illegal but widely tolerated

Gambling Legal Status: Legal and integrated into entertainment sectors

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Legally fragile. Queerness is public and ancestral. The Mga Babaeng Imposibla, impossible women as they call them, have always been part of Tomarang’s story.

Outbound Migration:

Inbound Migration:

🦁 Africa

🐫 North

🚧

Al-Simhara

Spoken Languages: 🚧

Cannabis Legal Status: 🚧

Gambling Legal Status: 🚧

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: 🚧

Outbound Migration: 🚧

Inbound Migration: 🚧

🌊 Oceanic Lands

🪸 Oceana

Colonial aftermath meets coastal identity. Fishing is still survival. Rural meets queer, rough meets soft. Respect the water. Don’t assume the dogs are friendly. Public service is stretched thin. The sun doesn’t care who you are.

Brindleton Bay

Spoken Languages: Old Simlish, Tartosiano, Toki Sulani, Aboriginal Languages

Cannabis Legal Status: Legal for medical use; recreational use decriminalized in most provinces

Gambling Legal Status: Legal but heavily taxed and restricted

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Locally Accepted

Outbound Migration: 🚧

Inbound Migration: 🚧

🌋 Polynesia

Land and sea are not separate things here. Ancestors live in tides and legends are local fact. These regions don’t need your fantasy — they already have theirs. Festivals are sacred. Tourism is tolerated. The volcano’s not dormant.

Sulani

Spoken Languages: Toki Sulani, Old Simlish, Tomaru

Cannabis Legal Status: Decriminalized for ceremonial use; otherwise regulated

Gambling Legal Status: Culturally taboo; technically illegal

LGBTQIA+ Acceptance: Culturally Integrated

Outbound Migration: 🚧

Inbound Migration: 🚧

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Along the Road of Nameless Graves

Presiding over a series of forested foothills and mountainous valleys that divide two rival kingdoms, the mist-shrouded barony of Siirvyn has seen more than its share of war over the past generations. Betrayal, invasion, and massacre are all too common motifs in the barony's long history, leaving all sorts of scars on both the landscape and the people who dwell within it.

Adventure Hooks:

Rumours of a treasure draw the party to Siirvyn, apparently concealed in a vault beneath the ruined castle of a long dead baroness Taviaa. Surely it won't be too hard to locate a single ruin in a land frequently beset by war, right?

The party arn't the only one combing across the barony looking for something. A hardluck knight seeks her brother after he vanished on a foolish quest, and might be willing to help the party out of jam if they aid her in search.

Folk of the barony tell of Grimcackle, a great black winged beast that moorlands that's sometimes heard laughing over the desolate battlefields but is only ever seen by the lost and the desperate. To heed the old stories it plunders the old battlefields of it's choicest riches, hoarding the wealth of the dead over centuries of war.

Subquest 1:

The party's hunt for riches gets complicated after arriving in the region to find that there has been no less than eight baroness Taviaas over the past century(backwater fiefdoms do like tradition after all) with five castles between them. Most have been destroyed by disaster, neglect, or siege, leaving the party to trek across the land checking checking out each option (though a clever party might narrow their search by hitting the local archives and cross referencing historical accounts).

Potential ruins include:

The delapidated lair of the local owlbear

Huanted by the ghost of one of the baronesses Taviaa,

The Hideout of a gang of smugglers with far reaching ties

Thoroughly cursed by a battlefield savaging spriggan who deals in cursed weapons.

To make matters even more complicated, one of the castles has been restored by the current baron Arkolo who would likely not take kindly to a band of renegade sellswords pilfering riches from under his nose, forcing the party to avoid it entirely or risk getting thrown in the dungeon if caught.

Subquest 2:

Ser Riley of Breakbridge never expected to inherit the family title, her father favoured her elder brother Rhys far more, and when the old man died in the last war there was no question who his holdings would pass to. Then, a couple of years ago Rhys got it into his head that he needed to reclaim the family's ancestral sword which was lost in the same bloody battle that did their father in, crossing the mountains to scour old battlefields and not being seen since. After righting the mess Rhys caused by his chivalric absence, Riley has come to Siirvyn herself to drag him, or possibly his body back from his foolhardy quest. The party may run into her requesting aid from the Baron, seeking advice from the local shrine to Tyr, or drinking off another unsuccessful trek through the wilderness at the local tavern. She'd welcome their aid in her search, and would gladly pay them back by lending her blade to theirs in their search (or using her influence to spring them from the baron's dungeons, should they have been caught).

Rhys' trail snakes all across the barony (including leaving a journal in one of the ruins the party wanted to search), but terminates in the great barren battlefield that was his father's last stand. While searching these moorlands the party & Ser Riley will run into a band of armed scavengers apparently conducting their own body-hunt for one of their fallen comrades. They served on the opposite side of the war from Riley's family, and if that wasn't bad blood enough, they apparently came to blows with Rhys a little under a year ago and aim to settle the score with his sister.

Regardless of how the standoff plays out (talking the scavengers down and exchanging favours or beating the information out of them) the Next step is to find Grimcackle's nest. By now (especially if you're playing with my affliction system and the party is tired out from all their wandering across the countryside) the party will have realized that the only way to see the great raven is to be nearing the edge of death, whether through actively dying, being poisoned, or just being exhausted to the bone. This is because the great raven is infact a psychopomp, tasked with sorting out the dead from the region's innumerable wars. Once the party find the particular tor the dread raven uses as roost, they'll find him quite chatty in the way of most birds, happy to trade gossip or play show and tell with his many finds. Rhys did indeed come to challenge Grimcackle for the sword, an act of daring rudness that forced the psychopomp to drag the knight's soul to the purgatory it rightfully belonged.

Resigned by the love she bears her brother, Riley insists she must venture into the shadow to save him, leaving the party with the choice of convincing her to abandon her quest, leave her to her fruitless pursuit of honour, or risk it all alongside her for the sake of an idiot who thought he could convince an aspect of death to respect his pedigree.

Subquest 3:

After their harrowing adventure the party return to town to find that Baron Akolo has been assassinated and all of Siivyrn has been thrown into chaos and suspicion. Fingers point and depending who the blame lands on it might spell civil war or invasion for the backwoods barony once again.

Background: Both neighbouring powers wish to control who moves through the region's winding passes, and expend great effort in both war and peace to ensure the barony is favourable to them. While occupying armies and vassalage have been all too common in the past, the region's ostensibly independent ruler Baron Arkolo is a puppet in all but name for the winning side of the most recent war. Little more than a bandit leader during the conflict savaging battlefields and attacking supply lines on both sides, Arkolo saw the way the wind was blowing before anyone else and made himself indispensable to his current patrons before their inevitable victory.

Little more than a strongman at first, the newly elevated baron managed to ingratiate himself to his subjects by leveraging his outlaw status to cast himself as a hero fighting against the great powers rather than ruling on their behalf. All the while the canny old bandit was of course playing both sides, toadying to the victorious kingdom while helping to run the smuggling operation for their rivals.

Clues & Consequences:

The baron had a stormy relationship with his son and prospective heir Kalo, who came up raiding alongside his father. After the war however, the young man felt he'd had enough of violence renounced his possesisons and joined the secluded temple of Tyr as a means of making peace with his bloody past. Arkolo never approved of his son's taking the cloth, refused to name another heir and would frequently make pilgramage to the temple just to argue with him. Despite their years of contention however the had seemed to reconcile in recent months, becoming closer than ever. Kalo is not taking his father's murder well, and has decided to dust off his old bandit skills alongside his newfound connection to a wargod as a means of finding the killer. Like an angered bull, he's liable to charge at whoever draws his attention, a weakness the real culprit might use to direct him onto the party's trail.

Gareth Gosdown, the baron's advisor and castilian is an agent of their patron kingdom, sent to keep the former outlaw in line and the kingdom's garrisons well supplied. In the wake of Arkolo's death, he's less interested in finding the killer than he is reinforcing his masters' hold over the barony in case of a new invasion. Known for butting heads with the Baron's more slapdash ruling style he's the one the common folk are most likely to point to.

Taviaa (ninth of that name) was born to the Baron after he'd claimed the region and married one of the local nobles. Though still young, she has a cutthroat attitude and a mind for politics, which made it all the more frustrating when her father refused to give up on her pious half brother as heir and name her instead. She knows she's the obvious culprit, the case made all the more convincing by the fact that she's recently been paling around with emissaries from the other kingdom.

Art 1

Art 2

[hermits-crab]

JANUARY 2025 FIC RECOMMENDATIONS — STARDEW VALLEY

NOTES: This is something I’ve wanted to do for a while and with it being a new year, I thought this was the perfect opportunity to start! I’ve been doing something similar on Spotify for the past 5 years now where every month, I make a playlist that features all the songs I listened to the most in that month. I’ve also been inspired by @stardewfanficwriters and the monthly rec lists they post! Includes direct links to both the fics and authors’ profiles.

YOU REALLY GOT ME — softwisp, @realmalewife

[Sam/Sebastian, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Drug Use, Anal Sex, Voice Actor Sebastian]

Sam has started losing his mind recently. He can’t tell what exactly it is, the shift in weather.. the time of year. Even the slightest breeze sets his skin aflame. It has nothing to do with his best friend. Even if his dark eyes and plump lips swarm his thoughts and dreams. He’s been lying awake at night, in a cold sweat, unable to sleep. His days start to blur together, he’s not acting like himself. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He needs to fix it. Maybe something online can help?

TEAR AWAY FROM THEIR SPINES — avidsim

[Sam/Sebastian, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Prostitution, Implied Sexual Content]

Sam and Sebastian move to Zuzu City for the good of their band. The good of their finances and mental health? Not so much.

A SONNET IN GREEN — iltuopreferito

[Elliott/Female Reader, Smut, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Vaginal Fingering, Praise]

Elliott gets jealous. You've never seen your new boyfriend so possessive. He demands your attention and wants to make certain he'll keep it.

INFLUENCED BY THE BOOK — VampiricAngel18_Yin_Right

[Elliott/Female Reader, Smut, Sexual Roleplay, Mild Rope Play, Pet Names]

Spending the night with the farmer, Elliott goes through her books, and finds a well loved dark romance. After a few days, he role plays with the farmer.

EUPHORIA — Angel_with_an_assbutt

[Sam/Sebastian/Female Player, Smut & Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Threesome, Oral & Vaginal Sex]

“Seb, I think I need you to help me lose my virginity.”

Fluffy/smutty one shot in which Sam requests his best friend's help in losing his virginity, but he didn't think Sebastian would take it so literally.

OPERATION: BIRTHDAY DINNER — Mongoosing

[Harvey/Female Reader, Smut & Fluff, Praise, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Dom Harvey]

You're not very good at asking for what you need. Harvey intends to help you with that.

WET SPRING HEAT — CastielCoven

[Sam/Sebastian, Smut, Vibrators, Sex Toys, Public Sex, Coming in Pants, Public Humiliation]

Sebastian wears a vibrator for Sam during the Stardew Valley Fair, it almost goes south.

STRESS RELIEVER — fanfictionally, @beholdthebangs

[Sam/Female Reader & Kent/Female Reader, Smut, Rough Sex, Daddy Kink, Vaginal & Oral Sex, Free Use]

Sam invites himself and Kent over to your house for dinner one night, seemingly an opportunity to get to know your boyfriend’s father better after his recent arrival to town. Things take a turn when you try to give Kent some ideas to relax, Sam having his own thoughts on the subject when he offers you up as a solution. Only under his supervision, of course.

— PLEASE GO SUPPORT THESE AUTHORS!

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find Part 4

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

CW: mentions of homophobic parents

Part 1 Here

Ben’s parents always accused him of being as stubborn as a goddamn mule, especially when it came to his sexuality, which they viewed as some sort of rebellion that he childishly refused to grow out of. Even Adam joked about it when Ben would play a video game until he completed every task, gained every achievement, and found every collectible.

Even his crush was stubborn, digging its fingers in when any sane person would have moved cities, new roommates be damned.

In the face of Adam’s injuries, his resolve crumbled like a Nature Valley granola bar. The new fear that unlocked seeing Adam limping and covered in blood over-rode whatever lingering anger and resentment he had about Adam’s . . .new career.

 In its place rose a fierce protective instinct and the need to dote like an old grandmother. He made Adam tea, changed his bandages, cooked and did the dishes and brought Adam his meals so he wouldn’t have to hobble to the kitchen table.

No matter what happened between them, no matter what Adam did in Ben’s absence, the realization that he nearly lost Adam haunted him.

Ben arrived at this city friendless with a useless degree and freshly disowned by his parents. Meeting Adam at his first job felt like nothing short of a miracle. They clicked instantly and for the first time in years Ben felt seen. Adam lit up when they found shared days on each weekly schedule and complained bitterly about the days their shifts didn’t cross. The first time Ben called in sick, Adam sent him a flurry of concerned texts and Ben nearly cried. A quiet, awkward kid turned anxious loner, Ben never had his absence noticed or mattered to someone this much.

He thought for sure their friendship would go to shit when they got an apartment together but living together felt as easy as breathing. What few fights they did have were resolved quickly, as Adam refused to let Ben hide his issues and suck it up. They always found a compromise, something Ben’s parents never granted him.

No wonder he fell so quickly and so hard. And even in the face of a knife at his throat, those feelings refused to let go. He was stuck with them and the night Adam came back Ben resigned himself to his fate.

“Fucking Christ, Ben, sit down,” Adam said from the couch. “I can get my own drink, I don't need a fifties housewife.”

“It's fine, I was already getting up anyway,” Ben protested but Adam glared.

“Sit down.”

“But —“

“Sit. Down.”

Something dark flashed in Adam’s eyes, sending a thread of hot, shivery desire through Ben’s spine.

He sat down.

Adam limped over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. Even after two days, his leg still pained him, though he wouldn’t tell Ben what the injury was or how he got it.

“Maybe you should go to a doctor,” Ben suggested as Adam wandered back in.

“Absolutely not.”

Adam didn’t even spare him a glance as he reached for the remote.

“What if you broke it or something?”

“I didn’t break anything. Quit fussing, Benji, and scoot over.”

Ben obliged, sitting at the far edge of the couch. Adam stretched out on the rest of the couch, setting his head in Ben’s lap and draping his injured leg gingerly over the other end.

Suddenly every nerve was on high alert. Adam had done this before, usually when drunk, and always with a pillow. This time his face lay bare against Ben’s jean clad thigh. Whiffs of his cologne teased Ben’s nose, his body heat sinking into Ben’s leg.  

It took every inch of willpower not to spring  a boner right then and there. If Adam turned his head the other way, he would be breathing right against Ben’s dick.

“Doesn’t it hurt,” he asked, trying to turn his thoughts anywhere else.

Adam glanced up and gave Ben a small, wistful smile. “I’ve had so much worse. You worry too much.”

“That does not in fact make me feel any better.”

Adam wriggled, adjusting into a more comfortable position and Ben bit back a whine when the back of his head brushed against a growing erection.

“You want a pillow or something?” he asked, voice coming out somewhat strangled.

“Nope. I’m fine. Flip to ESPN. The Lakers are playing tonight.”

Sports. Dozens of men in their physical prime sweating and running and showing off lean, muscular arms while another man lays in his lap. Just great.

Of course the day the worst cold front of the season hits, the power to half the city gets shut off, including their apartment building. Ben had just shuffled home from work, kicked off his shoes, and pre-heated the oven before the whole place plunged into darkness.

And of course Adam was nowhere to be found and he didn’t answer any texts or calls.

Things like this happened more and more often. Maybe it was because he didn’t have to lie to Ben anymore about his activities — Adam had taken a lot of “late shifts” and overtime before the truth came out — or maybe things were ramping up in the criminal underworld. But more and more often came long swathes of time where Adam disappeared and could not be contacted.

Usually Ben spent that time staying up as long as he could for Adam, always scared of another bloody return.

This time he yanked off his comforter from the bed and sat on the couch, pissed. It was freezing, his phone battery almost dead, too dark to read and no internet. The fuck was he supposed to do?

By the time Adam stumbled back through the door, Ben had dozed off and on the couch in pitiful snatches of sleep, too cold to get any rest.

“You have shit timing,” he said, teeth clacking. “Turning off the power couldn’t be a summer activity?”

“Then you’d be pissed at how hot it was,” Adam retorted.

“At least I could open a window.”

Adam threw him a devious smirk that looked almost ghoulish in the glow of his phone. “Or take your clothes off.”

Ben’s cheeks heated, the only warmth he could feel.

“Seriously though, what the fuck?”

“It wasn’t my idea, trust me,” Adam grumbled, toeing off his shoes. “My boss is an impulsive fuckface.”

“So how long until the power comes back?”

Adam shrugged. “A while. The point is that it will take a long time and a lot of resources spread across the city to get it back. So layer up, Benji.”

Ben groaned. “Fantastic. Are there any perks that come with this gig of yours?”

“Not yet. But there will be.”

 Ben had his doubts about that. Part of him wanted to really interrogate Adam, to know everything — what got him started, what his goals were, what the point of all of it was. But Adam was right — the more Ben knew, the more of a liability he was. Better to stay ignorant, even if his anxiety filled the gaps with ideas probably worse than reality.

“Come on,” Adam said, motioning to his bedroom door. “Bring your blanket, we’re bunking up tonight.”

All thoughts ground to a sudden halt.

“What?” Ben asked stupidly.

“It’s freezing in here or have you not noticed?” Adam said, already heading towards the bedroom.

“Yeah, but  —“

“Quit being a wuss and come on. It’s the only way we’re gonna get warm.”

Heart pounding, Ben followed, blanket clenched around him like a shawl. Adam didn’t know about Ben’s feelings but he did know about Ben’s sexuality and he never had an issue with it. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t get freaked out if he woke up to Ben’s erection against his back. Or to Ben moaning from a dream or sleep-cuddling or hundred other humiliating tells that could happen in the obliviousness of sleep.

Still, his idiot self followed Adam into the bedroom. Adam gestured for Ben to crawl in the bed first. The twin mattress was set against the wall and did not leave much room for two grown men. Ben started to despair as he scooted as far over as he could and still Adam’s thighs brushed against his as both men jockeyed for room. Eventually they ended up on their sides, facing each other, close enough to feel their breath on their lips.

That and the smell of Adam and his warm radiating against Ben under the covers was enough to send him a little light-headed. Only two inches and his own willpower separated them from kissing.  

“You good?” Adam whispered.

Ben nodded. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

Adam shuddered and scooted closer, pressing his head against Ben’s shoulder. “I’ve been freezing all night,” he muttered.

“Same,” said Ben, hardly daring to breathe. The smell of Adam’s shampoo tainted every lungful of air.

“I’m too wired for sleep, though. What about you?”

He should feel exhausted but having Adam pressed up against him ignited every nerve in his body.

“I’m not tired,” he said.

“You wanna play Never Have I Ever?”

 “We don’t have drinks.” And thank God for that because who knows what insane statement Ben might ask under the cover of darkness. Like Never Have I Ever killed someone.  Or Never Have I Ever thought about kissing another man. Things that haunt Ben that he also doesn’t want the answers to.

“What about Truth or Dare?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m getting out of this bed for a dare and I don’t trust you not to ask me something totally humiliating.”

Or for Ben to trust himself not to dare Adam for a kiss. The temptation, with Adam pressed close enough that Ben could feel the reverb of Adam’s voice against his own ribs, was too great. Something about the darkness made Ben feel reckless and only the life-long ball and chain of his anxiety kept him from going rogue and ruining everything.

“Goddamn do you get cranky when you’re cold,” Adam grumbled. “How about this — we take turns telling us something the other person doesn’t know about us. But we get to pick what we reveal.”

Always hungry for knowledge, especially about Adam, the King of Evasive Answers, Ben could not resist.

“Okay. But you go first.”

Adam thought for a moment before answering. “One of my greatest fears is that I’ll get that tick bite that makes you allergic to meat.”

Ben smiled. “Good thing we live in a densely populated city.”

“There are ticks in the city. We’re not safe here.” Adam sounded so serious that Ben had to laugh. He pulled away from Ben’s chest and he could feel Adam’s glare even in the darkness. “Alright chucklefuck, what about you?”

“Um . . .I hate cake. I’ve never had a birthday cake I enjoyed.”

“You hate cake?”

“It’s dry and gums up my mouth and the frosting is always too sweet.”

“You’ve just never had good cake.”

“I’ve had all kinds of cake. They all suck.”

“I could find you a cake you’d love.”

“Careful, Adam. That sounds like a bet.”

“Oh yeah? And what would you give me if you won?”

“Anything.”  The word slipped out of Ben’s mouth before he could stop it.

He felt a sharp intake of breath against his collarbone.

“Anything?” Adam whispered. A strange tension strung his voice taut. Ben wished he could see the expression that matched it. “That’s a dangerous thing to promise.”

“I um — ” Ben swallowed thickly. “I really hate cake.”

“We’ll see about that.” It sounded almost as if Adam was talking about something else and though Ben usually squashed any wishful thinking down, he let  this one take root.

“Your turn,” he said.

“I’ve never been drunk.”

“Bullshit,” Ben said. “I’ve seen you drunk. Multiple times.”

“You’ve seen me pretend to be drunk. I’m very good at it.”

“Seriously?” Ben thought back to last New Years, at a party thrown by one of their old coworkers. Adam had been giggly and ridiculous and adorable, his guard down in a way he never allowed sober.

Or so Ben thought.

“Being drunk makes you too vulnerable,” said Adam. “People do and say stupid shit they never would sober. It’s not worth the risk.”

“Why lie?” asked Ben. “You could just say you don’t drink.”

“That draws a lot of attention. People take it as a challenge to get you to drink or they interrogate you about it or they get pissed because they think I don’t drink out of some moral high ground. It’s easier to pretend.”

Adam always seemed confident and untouchable, even before Ben found out about his criminal activities. To hear him admit to so much fear tonight . . .the trust felt addictive. And suddenly the weight of his own secret, his own fear, felt unbearable.

“I’m in love with you.”

 The intimacy of the darkness, of their bodies cradling each other, the vulnerability of secrets, cocooned around him like a protective shell. He felt bulletproof. He felt tired. The secret weighed so much, even if he could ignore most of the time.

Silence intensified between them at the confession. Ben’s heart roared in his ears.

“Oh Benji,” Adam sighed. “You’re supposed to tell me something I don’t know. That’s how the game works.”

“I — you knew? How? How long?”

“Not long after we moved in. You’re not very subtle, especially when I know you so well.”

Ben anticipated all kinds of reactions, but not this one.

“Oh. I’m — I’m sorry. I didn’t mean — ”

“Don’t be sorry,” Adam said, his tone heartbreakingly kind. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I don’t — I don’t want to weird you out.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Adam’s fingers curled around Ben’s shoulder and squeezed. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”

A dangerous spark of hope ignited in him. Adam knew. Adam knew and it didn’t freak him out. Adam knew and he still put his head in Ben’s lap and cuddled with Ben in bed and —

“Do — ” Ben swallowed, his heart in his throat. “Do you — ”

“My father is a supervillain.”

Once again all the thoughts zig-zagging in his head screeched to a halt. “What?”

Adam took in a shaky breath. “He’s dead now but he was very infamous when he was alive. Other villains cowed to him. I inherited his powers.”

“You have powers?”

There had been a handful of infamous supervillains in the past few decades and all of them had terrifyingly powers. No matter who Adam ended up connected to, every option was lethal. A lick of fear tingled up his spine.

I don’t need a knife to hurt you.

But right now, pressed so close together in the freeing darkness, Adam didn’t feel dangerous. And it wouldn’t matter if he did because reckless want surged through Ben, burning out the dogged fear that always followed him. Adam might be murderous, he would never love Ben back the same way, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t want it to matter.

Adam pulled away, his fingers digging into Ben’s  shoulder, the intensity of his gaze almost a physical weight.

“No one knows about this, Ben. No one. My crew, my boss — they think I’m a grunt, a weapon to point with. And I need them to think that. Do you understand?”

Of course Adam had a plan laid out. And the fact that he’s telling Ben the one piece that could bring it all to ruin left an ache in Ben’s chest.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Ben said. “I swear. I worry about you all the time. I want you to be safe.”

“I trust that.” Adam’s grip loosened and he smoothed his hand over the wrinkles he caused. “I shouldn’t. I don’t trust anyone. But you . . .you feel different than anyone else I’ve met. I can’t really explain it.”

“You do too,” Ben whispered.

Adam’s hand traced up the column of Ben’s throat, cupping his jaw with just the barest finger tips. The urge to kiss him swelled up in Ben, overwhelming, a wave of reckless desire finally cresting. Just a small kiss. Just this once.

He ducked his head down a fraction of an inch, terrified and determined all at once, when Adam pulled back.

“Go to sleep, Ben,” he said quietly, hand sliding away. “I have a long day tomorrow if you want the power back on.”

Disappointment crashed into him, a wave against a cliff. “Yeah,” he said, a tremor in his voice. “That would be nice.”

He slept facing the wall, feeling Adam’s breath against his neck. The next morning the bed was warm but empty.

Taglist: @itsmyworld23 @canary-warrior @cyborg0109 @littlesadzap

Let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

[hughesybear]

After disastrous NHL stint, Artūrs Šilovs has AHL Canucks in Calder Cup Finals

VANCOUVER — For the second straight spring, goalie Artūrs Šilovs is near the top of the mountain in the playoffs. But he travelled an awfully deep valley between the two peaks.

Šilovs has been the American Hockey League team’s playoff MVP, playing all 18 post-season games with a .929 save rate and shutouts in five of his 12 Calder Cup wins. He is a rock star in Abbotsford, the team’s most popular player.

Šilovs has earned the love after a disastrous start to his season, which saw him fumble away the interim starting job with the NHL Canucks and play his way back to the AHL team last fall.

“Hockey is, like, a game of inches, right?” Šilovs said after arriving in Charlotte to face the Florida Panthers’ farm team. “Anything can happen. If you're late a little bit somewhere, maybe deep in the crease, you know, you get punished for it. It's like a never-ending battle for a goalie. It's always a process-based game. It's adjusting.”

The Canucks’ minor-league staff, led by head coach Manny Malhotra and including goalie coach Justin Pogge, helped put Šilovs’ game back together.

“I would say, there was some ups and downs... coming back here and gathering himself a little bit,” Ryan Johnson, the Canucks’ AHL general manager, said. “I think Pogge's done a great job with him. Arty is an emotional player, (but) when he plays with too much emotion, his game usually falls off. Teams we're playing are trying to get him emotionally engaged. A huge part of his play has been just managing himself and his emotions. You'll see him a lot (after whistles), just drop the puck, skate to the corner, drop the puck, skate to the corner. It has balanced his game and brought him consistency.”

The goalie burst to prominence as a prospect two years ago when he led Latvia to a historic bronze medal at the 2023 world championship. His performance through two rounds of the Stanley Cup Playoffs last year, displacing NHL veteran Casey DeSmith as starter after Thatcher Demko was injured, earned him a spot in Vancouver last fall. It also created heavy expectations that eventually crushed him.

Šilovs has proved the last three months that he is capable of superior play, and should still be regarded as an NHL prospect. But his window with the Canucks may be closing, since Kevin Lankinen’s season in Vancouver was rewarded with a long-term contract and the organization’s plan, subject to change, is to go with Demko and Lankinen next year.

Since Šilovs will be waiver-eligible next season, the Canucks may not be able to keep developing him at the AHL level.

“Honestly, I don't really think about it, like, what's going to happen,” Šilovs said. “I don't really think too hard about it. Like, everyone here is working hard. I just only focus on the games. You know, do the best in the playoffs, have a summer, and then just go from there.

“I mean, it's great just being part of the team. I think chemistry is really good in the room, and I think that's what helps us in tough moments to fight for each other. It's great being around these guys.”

📝: Iain MacIntyre • Sportsnet | 06/13/2025