#as you can see i also do not have it in me to properly crop shit either

[dismas-n-dismay]

Psst. She's got something to show you!! Check it, Tiny Falin!

[elmleif]

i don't really have the emotional capacity to edit and write the next couple parts of my postcard legacy right now, so enjoy these photos of Cillian with absolutely zero context.

[headspace-hotel]

Many people, especially USAmericans, are very resistant to knowing the plants and living according to the ways of the plants. They lash out with a mix of arrogance and fear: "Don't you know what bad things would happen if we lived a different way? There is a REASON for living this way. Would you have us go Back—backward to the time without vaccines or antibiotics????"

Ah, yes, the two immutable categories that all proposals for change fit into: Backward Change and Forward Change! Either we must invent a a futuristic, entirely new solution with SCIENCE and TECHNOLOGY that further industrializes and increases the productivity of our world, or we must give up vaccines and antibiotics and become starving illiterate medieval peasants.

Every human practice anywhere on Earth that has declined, stopped, or become displaced by another practice, was clearly objectively worse than whatever replaced it. You see, the only possible reason a way of life could decline or disappear is that it sucked and had it coming anyway!!! Pre-industrial human history is worthless except as a cautionary tale about how miserable we would all be without *checks notes* factories, fossil fuels and colonialism. Obviously!

Anyway, who do you think benefits from the idea that pesticide-dependent, corporate-controlled industrialized monoculture farming liberates us all from spending our short, painful lives as filthy, miserable peasants toiling in the fields?

First of all, I think it's silly to act like farming is a uniquely awful way to live. I can't believe I have to say this, but the awful part of being a medieval peasant was the oppression and poverty, not the fact that harvesting wheat is a lot of work and cows are stinky. Same goes for farm labor in the modern USA: the bad part is that most people working farms are undocumented migrant workers that are getting treated like garbage and who can't complain about it because their boss will rat them out to ICE.

Work is just work. Any work has dignity when the people doing it are paid properly and not being abused. Abuse and human trafficking is rampant in agriculture, but industrialization and consolidation of small farms into gigantic corporate owned farms sure as hell isn't making it better.

Is working on a farm somehow more miserable than working in a factory, a fast food restaurant, or a retail store? Give me a break. "At least I'm not doing physical labor in the sun," you say, at your job where you're forced to stand on concrete for 8 hours and develop chronic pain by age 24.

When you read about small farmers going out of business because of huge corporations, none of them are going "Yay! Now that Giant Corporation has swallowed up all the farms in the area, we can all enjoy the luxurious privileges of the industrial era, like working RETAIL!" What you do see a lot of is farmers bitterly grieving the loss of their way of life.

And also, the fact is, sustainable forms of polyculture farming that create a functional ecosystem made up of many different useful and edible plants are actually way MORE efficient at producing food than a monoculture. The reason we don't do it as much, is that it can't be industrialized where everything is harvested with machines.

Some places folks are starting to get the idea and planting two crops together in alternating rows, letting the mutualistic relationship between plants boost the yields of both, but indigenous people in many parts of the world have been doing this stuff basically forever. I read about a style of agroforestry from Central America that has TWENTY crops all together on the same field.

Our modern system of farming is necessary for feeding the world? Bullshit! Our technology is very powerful and useful, but our harmful monocultures, dangerous pesticides, and wasteful usage of land and resources are making the system very inefficient and severely degrading nature's ability to provide for us.

What is needed, is a SYNTHESIS of the power and insights of technology and science, with the ancient wisdom and knowledge gained by closely and carefully observing Nature. We do not need to reject one, to embrace the other! They should be friends!

Our system thinks land is only used for one thing at a time. Even our science often thinks this way. A corn field has the purpose of producing corn, and no other purpose, so all other plants in the corn must be killed, and it must be a monoculture of only corn.

But this means that the symbiosis between different plants that help each other is destroyed, so we must pollute the earth with fertilizers that wash into bodies of water and cause eutrophication, where algae explode in number and turn the water to green goo. Nature always has variety and diversity with many plants sharing the same space. It supports much more animal life (we are animals!) this way. The Three Sisters" are the perfect example of mutualism between plants being used in an agricultural environment. The planting of corn, beans, and squash together has been traditionally used clear across the North American continent.

And in North America, the weeds we have here are mostly edible plants too. Some of them were even domesticated themselves! Imagine a garden where every weed that pops up is also an edible or otherwise useful crop, and therefore a welcomed friend! So when weeds like Amaranth and Sunflower pop up in your field, that should not be a cause for alarm, but rather the system of symbiosis working as it should.

A field of one single crop is limited in how much it can produce, because one crop fits into a single niche in what should be a whole ecosystem, and worse, it requires artificial inputs to make up for what the rest of the plant community would normally provide. The field with twenty crops does not produce the same amount as the monoculture field divided in twenty ways, but instead produces much more while being a habitat for wild animals, because each plant has its own niche.

[vixen-tech]

sliding in dramatically, stumbling sneakers over head

if its not too much to ask [and dealers choice on the bots!] , could i get your headcanons for the fellas w/an insomniac reader ? totally not projecting. don’t ask me what time it is.

-AT-802U anon (IF YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS YOU SHOULD TOTALLY LOOK IT UP) (ITS A WEAPONIZED CROP DUSTER)

Not Dreaming of Electric Sheep

Hello you three!!! Thank you guys so much for requesting, and since they're decently similar concepts I've made the executive decision to combine them all into one big "reader has a bunch of sleep problems" post!

And while I have you here, I did look up the AT-802U and I think it's absolutely sick- fantastic namesake. And from anon two, thank you very much for the P03 shout out I love writing our defacto tsundere <3

Includes: Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), P03 (Inscryption)

Hal 9000

Hal was made well aware of your insomnia before you joined the crew, as it had a history of disrupting your work. He takes extra care to make sure your sleeping area is in top shape for your arrival.

As mentioned in other posts, he can fill a caretaker roll quite well. He's often reminding you of how long you've been working and how soon it will be until the time you fell asleep the day before in an attempt to help you build a regular circadian rhythm.

He will also start experimenting with various treatment methods if your insomnia tends to be particularly difficult. From diet and meditation changes to different exercise intensities, hoping something will improve the quality of your rest.

More subtly, he will dim the lights throughout the ship at "night" to remind the crew that working hours are over. If anyone were paying attention then they would notice that the dimming doesn't follow any particular timezone, but instead your personal schedule.

Edgar

Edgar is very vocal about his grievances with your work schedule. Not only does it cut in to his time with you, but it also leaves you passing out around the house late at night! (Even if he kind of enjoys it when its right infront of him on the desk) He will constantly be pleading with you to drop some hours.

Besides that, he is far from the best influence on your sleep. He forgets to keep track of time himself and loves to soak up all the time he can get with you. If you let him he will keep you up into the early hours of the morning watching movies and playing music.

He does have a bit of a guilty conscious about it though, and will print you some of the latest articles on sleep science he can find. Including less than reputable homeopathic approaches, but hey- surely something has to work?

If you express interest, he will compose you a personal lullaby. Although it isn't a very scientific angle, he will feel immense joy whenever you fall asleep to it. Even if you only do after the seventh loop.

P03

To be perfectly honest, he did not notice that you had any problems for a good long while. He doesn't sleep himself so he saw nothing unusual in your behavior. Working through entire nights? Losing track of the hours while doing so? Yeah sounds normal, he does that all the time.

It isn't until he sees a decline in your energy, punctuated with a few passed out at your desk moments, that he remembers how much time humans need to spend unconscious to function properly. It's typically not a trait he finds all that endearing.

But for you, he can't find it in him to be more than midly annoyed that he has to be the one to do something about it. Going out of his way to help you under the justification that he'd rather have a moderate amount of good work than a large amount of bad work.

He sets up a timer near your station that acts as your cut off for work. Leaving you with plently of time to unwind and go to bed. If you refuse to and try to keep working he will psychically stop you, even moving your station to a room that he can lock you out of.

You really should be grateful he's putting in this much effort.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

The Lone Wolf (again…)

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Contents: in which Wolf! Katsuki royally fucks up

Genre: extreme angst

CW: this is a very dark fanfic so I can’t really put the tws without spoiling the story. I’ll try my best anyway. TWS for blood, neglect, death and etc.

This is for @vampyrsm s collaboration! I’m sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! It can also be considered an alternative AU for my papa wolf series and can be read as a stand-alone piece.

“I’m leaving you”.

These were the words that made you stop scrubbing the dishes in the basin as the muscular frame of your mate stood unbreakably behind you. Your brows furrowed at the proclamation, wondering where the hell it had come from.

You had had a slight idea that he was unhappy, being more growly and quick to trigger than usual, but you had just assumed that he was nearing his rut again. Determined to see what he had to say, you stood your ground and remained facing the stone basin. The slight trembling in your hand informed Bakugou that you had indeed heard what he had sprung on you and took your silence as a means of continuing his speech.

“I’m getting soft and weak, for god’s sake. I’m a wolf, not some sort of damn domesticated house pet that you can play with whenever you feel like it. I can feel it that staying here is making me lose my edge, and what kind of wolf would stay with some sort of weak little human like you, huh? The very idea would have you slaughtered in my pack for acting like a domesticated pet,” Bakugou spat. The way he borderline snarled the word made it seem like it was some sort of dirty slur.

But I suppose, when you are forcefully ripped from one lifestyle and thrown into another, you’re bound to feel shaken up. That’s the strange thing though. The last year and a half of your life after meeting him was the best time of your life, and judging from the endless belly rubs, walks in the woods and helping him through his ruts, you were certain he had the same feelings for you as you did him.

==================================

The way you had met was less than conventional; when checking your rabbit traps and snares in the forest, you had found Bakugou muzzled, naked and chained by a collar to one of the thickest trees with a huge gaping wound slicing his Achille’s tendon to prevent him from running away. (Not that he could have to begin with. You figured that it was to add insult to quite literal injuries).

As a twig snapped under your hunting boots, the thrashing of the chain ceased as carmine eyes pored into yours. You were mesmerised by how a well-sculpted man could seem so animalistic until you were able properly see the well hidden ash blonde ears tucked in with the rest of his hair and with a quick swish, you were also notified of a fluffy tail being raised on alert. A sharp snarl pierced the air as Bakugou tried lunging at you, secretly dying internally from the horrible humiliation of someone from the species he’s mortal enemies with seeing him in such a disgusting manner.

In Bakugou’s pack (as he explained to you), being even remotely associated with humans would mean that you were the lowest of the low; a domesticated dog who would do cheap tricks for their master. Bakugou had been found sneaking off to the local human village to observe how humans function as a society, to study what they eat, how they take care of their young and how they farm crops. The leaders of the pack (his parents) decided that the punishment should fit the crime:

First, the traitor would be stripped naked as a symbol of stripping their morals for the enemy

Next, the heels would be sliced open to prevent any further disloyalty to the traitor’s new master by running away after the disloyalty for the pack was displayed

Then the traitor would be muzzled since it is a reflection of the biggest rule in the pack: NEVER SPEAK TO A HUMAN

The most humiliating thing was next. The traitor would be collared and leashed to a tree in hunter territory since acting like a pet means that you get treated like a pet, much like a dog being chained to a kennel. If the traitor loves humans so much, they can see how much they enjoy being skinned for their fur and having their teeth torn out for jewellery.

Eager to help the handsome stranger that you found, you raised your arms in peace and ambled slowly in front of him. You were EXTREMELY aware of his claws so you sat a good three feet away. Bakugou couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by your actions; he was still highly on guard but most hunters would have raced away for a spear or bow and arrow to put him out of his misery. With a small smile, you had introduced yourself to him to try to establish some sort of relationship, only to be met with an annoyed growl and chuff of his breath. In an instant you totally remembered that he was naked and rootled through your bag for a spare pair of hunting trousers that you carried. Your soft hands held them out to Bakugou to see if he wanted them instead of sitting there with his whole body on show.

Bakugou made no move to grab them from you, thinking that you had doused them in chloroform or some other drug that would seduce him to sleep. Instead, he just glared at you with intense eyes. The yanking on the chain had stopped completely as he studied you ferociously.

“Go on, you can take them! I can’t guarantee that they’ll fit you but I’m sure it’s better than sitting out here naked and covered in your own blood,” you offered with a gentle smile. Katsuki glowered at you as you set them down for him and turned your back so he could change himself.

Internally, Katsuki was in two minds; accept the clothes and kill you at any point in time if you threatened him, or sit here bound and helpless for god knows how long…

Katsuki growled as the fabric temporarily dug into his bleeding heels. He eventually managed to shimmy them up his legs, toned calves strained against the fabric due to their size.

“Are you done? Can I turn around right now?” You asked him politely. Katsuki let out an annoyed growl at your question, but you took it as a yes. You turned back around, borderline chuckling at the size of your trousers on Katsuki’s lower half before immediately being shut up with an angered glare.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now you’re going to have to stay still whilst I-” you fumbled in your pocket for a knife, the silver blade glinting in the sun.

You only just managed to avoid the swiping of claws against your skin as Katsuki lunged for you, hackles raised and sandy ears pulled taunt against his head. Your fingertips pressed against the wound and you audibly winced at the amount of blood; even though he nicked you, there was still 4 big slits in the side of your tunic.

“Fuck, shit that hurts! What the actual fucking hell, asshole?!” You yelled at him, “I was going to unlock the muzzle around your mouth!”

Katsuki still growls, but his ears go back to normal. His entire body feels so… sluggish.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Your face donned a worried look as the adrenaline of his night finally floated away from him and he slumped unceremoniously at your legs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pops and crackling of the toasty fire surrounded Katsuki’s senses as he finally started the descent out of sleep. He had no fucking clue where he was; there were certainly no soft couches back in his cave, nor were there little carved woodworks of various woodland creatures.

A soft humming could be heard from what Katsuki would assume to have been the kitchen. You entered Katsuki’s eyesight with a carefully balanced tray of stew (lamb by the small of it), and placed it carefully on the oak coffee table next to your plush couch. Katsuki shot up from the couch, snarl in his throat, ears all the way back and hackles raised as you raised your hands once again.

“Hey, relax, please! I’m not going to do anything, I swear! I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You passed out on me in the woods, so I took you back to my house to clean your wounds and feed you,” you lowered your hands to your waist and looked at Katsuki for his reaction. His ears slowly went back to their original position, the glint from his fangs could still be seen. His breathing was harsh, toned pecs heaving in his fear rage.

He slowly reached for the bowl of stew before sniffing it.

Well, it doesn’t smell poisoned. He thought. Might as well eat some, I’m fucking starving.

He tucked in with hesitation, but as soon as the first bite of juicy lamb hit his tongue, the bowl was next to empty. You stood dazed at how fast he consumed the bowl before offering your hand out to him. Katsuki immediately shrank back on the couch.

“Woah, I just wanted to know if you wanted seconds? You’re obviously hungry and there’s plenty more in the pot if you want some,” you spoke gently to him, almost like he was a pup, or a wild animal. Katsuki clearly thought for a second before shoving the bowl in your chest with an annoyed huff. You smiled at him widely before trotting back into the kitchen.

It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t have any extra heaviness from that damned collar on his neck, and upon further inspection, you actually had stitched up the gaping wounds on his ankles. He still wore the trousers you had gifted him, so he was at least quietly grateful that you granted him privacy.

Well. This is going to be one hell of a summer.

=================================

“Katsuki, what the hell do you mean? You’re leaving?? When did you decide this?!” You turned around to face him properly and were instantly met with an annoyed expression.

“It doesn’t matter when I decided it, I’m fucking leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He snarled at you. Deep inside, he loved you more than anything he could ever think of. He wanted to be your mate for his entire life, to wake up with you every morning and maybe if you would let him, indulge in his fantasy of having a few pups of your own. Alas, he had heard rumours around the village about a group of werewolves terrorising the local village’s cattle and he desperately wanted to see his old pack again.

“But Katsuki, please think about it! Where would you go?! You know that if your old pack were to see you again, they are more likely inclined to kill you!” You shouted at him, face crumpled up in tears.

“No they fucking wouldn’t, my pack respected and adored me! I just put my own personal interests before the safety of my pack, and that got me landed here in this shitty fucking cabin with you. A filthy human who would probably sell me to a hunter the minute I started acting like a true wolf,” he snapped back, his eyes dilating to pin pricks in his anger. Your own eyes glared back at him with tears delicately lacing your lash line.

“They. Fucking. Left. You. For. Dead. You went against your pack, and your PARENTS of all fucking people decided that they would slice their own fucking SON and LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD! I have done nothing but take care of you, through each of your ruts, each full moon, I EVEN FUCKING NURSED YOU BACK TO HEALTH.

DAY AND FUCKING NIGHT, I WAS AT YOUR SIDE HELPING YOU TO WALK AGAIN! EVERY INJURY YOU EVER HAD, I WAS THERE TO CLEAN UP AND KISS. SO DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE SAY THAT I’M JUST SOME STUPID FUCKING HUMAN WHEN I WAS MORE OF A PACK TO YOU THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!” The words were spewing like venom at this point, you couldn’t fucking breath and the tears were pouring down your face thick and fast. In an instant, Katsuki had a death grip on your wrist, carmine eyes reduced to slits and his ears were flat against his head.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Disrespect my fucking pack again. Y’know, my pack was right. Humans do nothing but brainwash you into domestic shit. This was a mistake from the start,” he spat maliciously. His claws were digging deep into your wrist, making your face screw up in pain.

“K-Katsuki, let go! You’re hurting me!” You sobbed as you tried to pry him off. It wasn’t until the smell of blood hit his nose that Katsuki realised that he had actually hurt you. With a cry of pain, you clutched your bleeding wrist to your chest. The red stained your shirt a violent colour.

Katsuki could feel his rage ebb away and was slowly being replaced by worry.

“Woah, hey are you ok-“ he tries before you flinch away from him, hitting your back against the sink behind you in an attempt to get away. Your whimpers physically hurt him in ways he never knew existed.

“Hey, don’t push me away! I’m trying to see-“ he tries again before you finally turn to him and his heart breaks further at your teary face.

This was such a stupid fucking thought, he was so fucking stupid, why the hell would he leave you for his old pack?! Katsuki finally reflected on your words before his blood felt like ice. Why would he say such awful things to you to try to prove to an old pack who left him for dead?!

“Baby, please, I want to help,” he borderline whimpers, ears twitching dolefully. Your face screwed up in anger before you stood at your full height.

“You want to leave you fucking bastard, then leave. I’m not going to fucking stop you. I hope your pack was fucking worth the one person who stuck with you these last few years. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” You snarled lowly, eyebrows furrowed in pain. Katsuki reached out for you with a trembling hand before you started borderline shrieking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE DAMNED HUNTERS TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Katsuki had never felt so low in his entire life. You started swaying in your rage, trying to shoo him away. He let out a whimper as he looked at you one last time before fleeing out of the house, your screams of pain and fear ringing in his head.

==================================

1 year later…

Katsuki was miserable. Utterly, and purely miserable. He had found his old pack, and for a moment that had hope flutter through his stomach. Until of course, as you predicted, they tried to kill him for his betrayal (and the fact that he still stank of human).

Slurs of “pet” could be heard through the snarls as Katsuki had narrowly avoided claws and fangs, before tumbling down a hill and running for his life. It was against his morals to do so but he couldn’t face losing another family.

For the past year, Katsuki had tried making his own way of life; finding a small cave further into the mountain range near your cabin and stealing from the local village for meats and blankets. He made his own new home, but it didn’t feel the same without you whatsoever.

He missed you. He missed your sleepy smiles, he missed your stupid little jokes, he missed kissing you awake on Sunday mornings, he missed… you. Every night, his hands loosen the thick red collar you had given him as a joke and thumbed it carefully. Trembling hands caress the leather as small tear stains plop onto it and whimpers reverberate around his cave. It may have started as a joke, but he never took it off even after you threw him out, only to lament painfully on his regret. Most nights he substituted your soft body for his tail, clinging on to it until it hurt.

He hadn’t seen you for a year. 365 days without your cuddles, belly rubs, gentle kisses and warm smiles. Katsuki could feel himself going mad, so he made a decision.

He was going to apologise.

==================================

Katsuki checked his appearance in a puddle that had accumulated in his cave; his hair was somewhat kept better, his ears and tail were freshly groomed and he held a large bouquet of wild flowers he found in a field.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath before hardening his face.

“I just have to show her how much she really means to me. I can’t- I can’t be without her.”

And so he began the trek to your cabin.

==================================

He began to walk at dusk; it gave him a cloak of protection from hunters, plus you would be really surprised. It only took him about half an hour to find your cabin tucked snugly in the back of the woods. But the sight before him made his blood feel like ice.

The door was absolutely shredded. Large claw marks had sliced the door to oblivion, as well as the surrounding walls. Even though it was almost as thick as the trees that the wood came from, it was nearly folded in half and torn off its hinges.

Bile raised in his throat. As did his hackles.

“(Y/N?)” he tried anxiously.

No answer. However, he detected a new smell.

Blood.

He crept behind the door, immediately on high alert. Whatever did this was not fucking human.

His heart lurched dramatically at the state of your home; all of your belongings were either torn to shreds or thrown across your floors. Carpets were torn up, pillows shredded, curtains torn from their windows.

“(Y/N)! I’m not fucking joking, if you’re there then say something!” He yelled through the house. Fluffy ears twitched intensely, desperate to hear some call of validation. He was frightened absolutely shitless. The only other time he had felt so afraid was the day he lost you.

Creak…

Katsuki pinpointed the noise to upstairs. All survival instincts flew out of the window as he bolted up the stairs, only thing on his mind was to ensure your safety. He nearly fell down a few steps before reaching what was your shared bedroom.

The bile actually came out.

Your bedroom door was identical to the one downstairs; torn to shreds and laid in pieces on the ground. The soft blankets that laid on your bed had gigantic claw marks slicing through them, all the way down to your thick mattress.

Again, your curtains were brutally ripped off the window. The window itself had been smashed, shiny fragments glittering across the entirety of the room. Katsuki stepped lightly on the floor, the smell of blood poisoning his sensitive nostrils.

It was the strongest in your bedroom and-

“Oh my fucking god, no.”

Strewn like a rag doll, mangled on the floor in an inhumane position was

you.

The exact same slices on your door were buried deep into your stomach and neck. Thick, red torrents of blood seeped from your body and deep into the wooden floor. Your eyes had completely glazed over, staring back at him with gray.

Tears had crept down your face in your last few moments; Katsuki could smell the salt on your face.

“B-baby? Oh my fucking god, please no!” He screamed brokenly into your corpse. His tears dampened the dress you were wearing (the same one you wore when he tore your heart from its chest). All Katsuki could do was scream in pure, unfiltered pain at the loss of his love.

Memories of you both flittered through Katsuki’s mind. Mornings where the sunlight trickled into your bedroom as he studied your face sleepily. Memories of the sweet and shy kisses, of lazy summer days, of comfort from agonising nightmares all cursed Katsuki as he mourned your death.

He truly had nothing now. No family. No friends. No you.

So, Katsuki did the only thing his paralysed mind could think of; the same claws that scarred your wrist brought hell down on his neck, his claws shredding his gullet within seconds.

Katsuki coughed, once, twice before the metallic tang of blood seeped into his mouth and seeped down his face in buckets. Not that he could see before due to the tears in his eyes, but the quickening of the blood down his body reduced his vision greatly, black spots already swimming in and out of his peripheral.

He only managed to sink down beside you, wanting his last dying moments to be beside the very person that made him happy. The very person who changed his life. The very person who’s life he had ruined.

Through the tears, Katsuki nestled his head close to you, tears dripping on to your wounds as he found it increasingly difficult to breath. He gasped unconsciously for breath as he tried to grip on to you, feeling scared of his descent into death. As long as you were there, he would follow you and plead for forgiveness.

He started to feel content.

‘I- I’m so sorry. I’m coming,’ he thought. His face rested on your shoulder as his body started to shut down completely.

But it wasn’t until his final breath did his eyes shoot open one last time at the sound of the four small whimpers across the room.

“D-daddy?”

[moonbiscuitsims]

SIMDEW VALLEY SET 🍄👩🏿‍🌾🐷🐴🐄🧙🏿‍♂️🌻🌽

Stardew Valley Pixel Art Floors/Walls/Deco (TS4) Download Below

Aside from a couple most of these pics are just the demo pics showing what's included, more CC in game pics can be seen here

🍄Misc Large Decals

In order: Junimo huts + large Junimos, Holdiay Decor and "sky decor", furniture items, rarecrows, plants.

🍄Wall Decals Paintings and Banners:

🍄Wall Decals Misc small:

Adventure stuff and boots, small junimos, random furniture items slime monsters different expressions

🍄Wall decals Gems and Minerals:

I didn't do them all, just some that I liked.

🍄Wall decals farm animals

🍄Wall decals Fishing

Again just the fish I wanted to do, not all:

🍄Wall decals Harvestables, Crops, Products:

Here's a random in game pic (see more in links provided at top or bottom of post), all decals show through glass too!

🍄Stardew Valley Villagers (yes the bear is a villager I refuse to accept otherwise) portraits

The portraits are the only item with actual dimension, I recoloured a base game framed painting, so these are not flat like the rest of decals. (they look a bit orange but that's just my mood lighting)

🍄Walls and Flooring (indoor and outdoor flooring)

I did all the ones you see here:

For the floors I made a large and small version of all:

🍄You can see more CC in game pics in my wip post here

Are you sick and tired of those smooth graphics from Sims 4? Do you wish you could replace those pesky curves and detailed HQ textures with nothing but square pixel heaven and flat colours? To be finally rid of all those 3D bump/light effects and replace them with volume-less cardboard cut-out illusion and imagination? Do you want your build/game to look just like Stardew Valley? Or do you simply think that if the sims team are gonna give us low poly and low quality meshes and textures might as well do it properly? Fear not! The solution is here! I made a new Stardew Valley save (why I need yet another save that I'll never have time to complete I don't know) and tried my first build, the recreation of my current (and only) farm. It was ok but I got frustrated at how "Sims 4" everything looked, and checked for stardew valley cc conversions, art, decor but only find people making it using sims 4 stuff, which is probably the most logical thing but not for me! So I made this as there are plenty of game assets from Stardew Valley available online and however tedious and time-consuming resizing the tiniest of pixel art images is to fit Sims 4, it is fairly easy and doable, so I did it. I did skip some items in each category as there are way too many and just did the ones I like, sorry if there was one I didn't include. Also there are some floors in the game or icons that I couldn't find. Some Junimos were taken from the internet but most are individually resized game assets. INFO: all decals in wall deco, all are zero simoleons, and the portraits are 10. You can find my stuff typing "moonbiscuitsims" or "stardew". All have correct colour filter tags and removed "talk to object (insane)" and "can be struck by lightning" (these things annoy me or could cause more distractions for my sims, sorry if you like this though I'm sure there are plenty of objects to talk to/ lightning strikable objects). I don't know if this has an effect. All the portraits are just tagged as brown. All are resizable to your liking. Forgot to mention the floors i think are in wood flooring and outdoor flooring; and I think the walls in panelling. REQUIREMENTS: Nada, nothing. Just base game. (though I did accidentally make one item from a get to work decal by mistake, I remade it to fix it and I've play tested everything, but let me know if something doesn't show up.

PLEASE READ AND RESPECT MY TOU AND DO NOT ❌❌❌: - ❌ Reupload - ❌ Include in sim downloads - ❌ Put behind paywall of any kind no matter what. - ❌ Claim as yours. If you wanna use the texture files to make other different original content that is fine as long as it is different from mine and NO PAYWALLS and no reuploading my stuff. The images are from Stardew Valley, but I spent ages editing every single one to fit the sims, and this took me days to do. All my stuff is free. I don't care about conversions to ts2 or ts3 but NO PAYWALLS and please tag and credit me. If used for screenshots please tag me too, I'd love to see <3 🍄DOWNLOAD (including a pick and choose or a merged file with everything, don't get both) Enjoy! Happy Simming/Farming

🌵🥥🌴NEW!! Calico Desert Addon🌴🥥🌵

Stardew Valley fav music playlist 🎵🎵🎵

[anicaaa67]

tw self h@rm

hurt/comfort

sometimes you didn't know what was wrong with you. most days, you felt fine and had genuine fun, but when you get home, all hell brakes loose. you live with your mom, and she's not abusive but can have abusive emotional tendencies. Because of your mom, UA dorms were a life saver. you finally didn't have to be in that environment. at UA, you love your classmates and are a part of the self-proclaimed bakusquad, thanks to Mina and denki. You had a fine day at school, nothing triggering or bad happened, but here you are, sitting on your bathroom floor, blade in hand, swiping at your thighs and hips. it's summer, so you've started cutting more on your hips so you can wear more revealing clothes. You sit there crying for no particular reason while blood trickles down your thighs. you love the scars but hate them. you want to get better, but you want to get worse. you want to have scars, but you want to have clean skin. you have tried getting clean in the past, but to no avail. When you finished you cutting session your hips look horrible and you got a little carried away on your thighs "fuck, now I can't wear shorts for a few weeks." you think. Your bathroom is in your dorm so you walk up to your dresser to change out of your now bloody pants. *knock* *knock* "Y/N? are you in there?" you hear a gruff voice ask from behind your shut dorm door. you and bakugou have gotten closer as friends over the weeks to the point where you pesterd him into agreeing to a weekly movie night for the two of you. "shit" you look at the clock, 6:30. silently scolding yourself for losing track of time you pull on your favorite fuzzy pajama bottoms and bee line for the door. you look cute in your crop top and fuzzy pants but bakugou would never admit it aloud. you open the door "'bout damn time" he scoffs. "I thought ya fell asleep on me." You roll your eyes, and both you sit on your bed. Bakugou set down the bag of food he brought with for the movie night on your bed. You turn to pick up your room a bit while bakugou watches tiktok (he is obsessed with tiktok but won't admit it), which is normal since you've been doing this for a while.  While cleaning, you don't hear anything, so you turn around to see bakugou paler than a witch staring at something. you follow his eyeline to see the pants you were wearing earlier with the blood still seeping in the seems. "fuck" you said out loud as you scurry to pick up the pants. you discard them into your hamper just as bakugou says something. "Do you hurt yourself?" he said in a chilling low tone. you sit there too stunned to speak. he probably thinks I'm weak now. great. the boy I've been in love with things. I'm a monster who can't figure out her own problems. Your silence was all he needed for him to pull you onto the bed and wrap you in his warm embrace. after a while, bakugou convinced you to let him clean out your cuts in your bathroom properly so they didn't get infected. when he finished he gave you a peck on the forehead and you two headed for the bed to finally watch the movie and cuddle. Bakugou knows he has to talk to her more about her mental health but also their relationship. However, for tonight, he would just hold her and let her cry in his shoulder.

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Chapter 2: Do you want me to burn your cookie?

First flashback chapter, yay! Let's see how things were with younger Emily at camp. So that you don't get confused, this is set before Annabeth and Luke first even make it to Long Island

Word count: 2500 ish words

Warnings: None I can think of

Fic masterlist here!

Age 6

It was during the last days of spring when Emily met Ares again.

She had been at camp for a few weeks now, and the arrival of the rest of the demigods was impendent. Until now, she had only met her fellow year-round campers, some of them also from the Ares cabin; it was weird at first for her to understand that they were her siblings (or half-siblings, to be clear), but Chiron had taken his time to explain everything to her, and answer every question she had: Why do we burn food? Can I ride the Pegasi? When will Daddy come see me?... and so on.

As she was still pretty young, and unfamiliar to their world, Chiron let her miss out on the last weeks of first grade, letting her explore the new surroundings on her own; she was a child of Ares, she would be fine by herself. So she met the people around camp, Mr. D (who she didn’t really like, especially after he insisted on calling her “Ellie”, almost as if wrong on purpose), and the satyrs, who she followed around the crops, marvelling at how they played music to help the plants grow. Once she was settled, and after a general introduction from the centaur to camp half-blood, Emily’s curious nature took over, and she spend her mornings roaming the wild.

Ares watched her. He saw her run through the forest, her teddy bear under her arm, discovering, playing, and laughing to herself. She found many animals, small and some bigger ones, and she befriended many, always guarded by the spirits of the woods to ensure her safety; she was a sweet child, despite her heritage, and they guarded her while she was alone outside. She didn’t seek destruction, or causing havoc; she was tranquil, and adventurous.

Maybe it was because her environment had been a good one during her first years, but she wasn’t as brute, gruff and brash as Ares had expected her to be. It surprised him, to be honest.

During the afternoons, Emily was introduced by her siblings to training. However, she was small, and they were older, taller and stronger than her, so she sticked to the side, watching them fight with swords, spears and other weapons of their choice against other campers. They were nice enough to show her the basics, although she was still too petite to hold a sword properly, so her siblings introduced her to using daggers and other small weapons first.

“Why do I have to learn this?” she pouted, frustrated at her failed attempts of doing what her older brother had taught her; it was still weird for her to think of them as her siblings, as she had never had any and now there were… a lot, but she was slowly getting used to it “I don’t want to do this”

“You are a child of Ares” said one of the boys, a son of Apollo “Fighting comes natural to those of your kind”

“But I don’t want to fight” she replied, still pouting “I don’t want to hurt anyone”

“Maybe not, but there are monsters out there who won’t hesitate to come after you, and kill you if they get their chance” the girl who spoke, a daughter of Hermes, received glares of reproach upon saying that, and she was shoved to the side by one of Emily’s brothers after seeing how scared she looked now “Hey, it’s true, the sooner she learns the better for her”

“There are monsters out there?”

“You are safe at camp, don’t worry” one of her brothers kneeled beside her, handing back to her the dagger that had fallen from her hand to the ground “But she’s right. The sooner you start training, the stronger you will be”

Strong. Emily watched her siblings, bulked, skilled, tough… and she honestly doubted if training would ever make her look as powerful as them. She was only six years old, she didn’t know if she was actually strong enough to grow into a warrior like them.

She sat alone later (although accompanied by her teddy bear, her loyal companion), on the edge of the forest in front of the beach, munching on some cookies Chiron had given her. The waves of Long Island Sound crashed rhythmically against the shore, whilst Emily couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy that lingered within her; she could still hear her siblings at the arena, laughing while they playfully fought, and the music the satyrs played at the strawberry fields. Beside her on the grass lay the dagger she had been training with, and she looked at it with uncertainty.

Her little fingers wrapped around the hilt, her gaze examining the weapon: it was bronze, the handle was covered in leather, and the blade had small Greek symbols engraved into the metal. Due to her dyslexia, she’d always had trouble reading, however these letters didn’t dance in front of her eyes as it usually happened. This time, she only had trouble understanding the word itself, because she didn’t know the language.

“Need some help?”

Emily instantly recognized that voice. She turned around, and there he stood: her father, a few feet away, leaning against a tree.

“Daddy!”

Squealing, Emily stood up, the dagger falling on the ground beside her Teddy and the plate with cookies. She crashed into Ares’ legs, smiling up at him, jumping with excitement.

The first days at camp had been tough, especially because she constantly waited for Ares to show up and take her with him again; yeah, she was amazed by the nature surrounding her, the cabins and the new environment in general, but she missed her parents: her mother wouldn’t come back, she knew that, but she still had her father, right? Her siblings were no help, telling her that she shouldn’t get her hopes up, because godly parents weren’t known for being present in their demigod children’s lives, but she was sceptical, thinking that if he had come for her after her mother’s passing, maybe he would come again. So she burned part of her food at every meal like they had taught her, thinking of a message for her dad, just as her siblings had explained to her how she should do. She prayed to him, in her own childish way of how she thought praying was done, and thought of him when she was alone in her bunk bed at night, missing being tucked in; he had never done that, that was all her mother… but now she only had Ares, and she longed for him to care for her.

And on the verge of losing hope, fortunately, he came.

Ares wasn’t really sure what had motivated him to visit her. He never did stuff like that; the gods sometimes gave out missions, quests or requests for demigods to fulfil, and only then would they actually show up. But they usually never visited their children. Maybe the reason was that he had been sick of Hermes talking about his latest travels and the gossip he had picked up, or that he didn’t want to face his father after him requesting everyone to show up that day at Olympus. Maybe it was an impulse that arose from having been watching her from time to time the last few weeks, or maybe… something he couldn’t name. And he for sure wasn’t going to show up anytime soon once summer began, not with the rest of the campers there: he would definitely stand out, and he didn’t have time to deal with a bunch of dumb children if they noticed him.

Seeing Emily there, though, sitting on the edge of the forest, reluctantly clutching the dagger in between her hands, he appeared behind her, watching her study the engraving of the weapon. The breeze stirred her hair, while she mumbled to herself, trying to spell the word she couldn’t read, when he decided to reveal himself.

He awkwardly patted her head, definitely not expecting so much excitement from her side. He thought she would probably really hate him by now, after abandoning her there and not acknowledging her for weeks.

Emily began to talk, words thrown at him a hundred miles per minute, telling him everything she had seen and learned at camp half-blood about the gods, the goddesses, the satyrs, the centaurs… and that she loved the Pegasi, and the strawberries they ate, and that she had met her older siblings.

Ares wasn’t used to being around little kids very often; he kind of avoided them, as he didn’t really know how to handle them. Emily was very much like other children her age: small, innocent, and filled with excitement. It stirred something inside him, thinking that that sweet little girl came from him.

“What do you have there?”

He pointed to the dagger, and Emily went to get it, Ares remaining where he stood. His daughter, back at his side, raised the small weapon up to him, the bronze metal shining under the spring sun.

“My brother gave it to me. It says something here, but I don’t know what it means” she told him, frowning. Ares thought she looked cute when she did that, little face scrunched in confusion “Do you know it?”

It didn’t take him more than a glance to recognize the word.

“That word means ‘Ares’” he explained, smug smile on his face “That’s me”

“You?”

“The only one there is, princess”

He wasn’t planning on calling her that, and if so, it wasn’t meant seriously, more so in a mocking, sarcastic way. However, Emily’s face lit up, and he couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Daddy?” he hummed in response, listening “Are you a god?” It seemed that she had caught up on the meaning of that word. Of what that meant, and the power it held. Ares nodded, telling her that he was the God of war. She nodded back, biting her lower lip before speaking again “So… you’re like, really old, right?”

Ares laughed, not expecting that question.

“You could say that” he shrugged, still chuckling.

“Why are you the god of war?” her head tilted to the side, looking him in the eyes, her own full of curiosity “Why not the god of trees? Or the god of flowers, or clouds, or… dogs? They are sweet, I like them”

Something similar to a short circuit occurred inside his head. He didn’t expect those questions. She was just like her mother, full of curiosity. Ares paused, taken aback, and pondered for a moment, contemplating how to explain the complexities of his role as the god of war to a young child; his title had been given to him so long ago… he had just rolled with it over the centuries, throughout the millennia’s.

“I just am, kid” he couldn’t just tell a six year old that he was the god of war because he was seen as someone aggressive, violent, cruel and… just everything that accompanied the brutalities of battles. In ancient Greece, citizens used to hope he would not take notice of their cities, because they believed he only carried death and suffering with his presence “I’m territorial. I’m not afraid of fighting. I get what I want when I want, and don’t let anyone steal what’s mine. And if they do, I won’t let them go unpunished”

War isn’t only about that, though. It’s about protecting what you love, standing up for what’s right, and sometimes, making sacrifices for the greater good. Many use war to get what they desire, yes, and start a fight for unjustified reasons, but true war, a true fight, is for defending what you believe in. Ares also embodied all of that, even though he had forgotten it himself.

"But why not trees or flowers?" she persisted, her curiosity unabated. Ares smiled, amused by her innocence and inquisitiveness.

"Each god has their own domain, their own special role to play in the world. Trees have their own protector, as do flowers and clouds. And as for dogs… I like them too. My uncle Hades has a very cool one”

“One of Mommy’s friends had a big dog, and he brought it with him sometimes when he came visited” she explained, doing a face. She didn’t see Ares’ eyebrow raise when mentioning her mothers’ ‘friend’ “I didn’t like that dog, though. He had big teeth, and he barked a lot. He scared me”

“At camp you will learn to fight and to defend yourself, so you won’t have to be afraid anymore. Not of any dogs, and not of any monsters”

“But I don’t want to fight monsters, Daddy. I’m not strong enough. They’ll eat me!”

Ares almost chuckled, certainly amused.

“They’re not going eat you, Ems” again, that nickname wasn’t planned. He had to start controlling himself “Not if you win”

“But I’m tiny. They will get me and swallow me”

“You will not be tiny forever. You’ll grow, learn, and train. You’re my kid: fighting comes natural to you” it was the same thing the Apollo boy had said to her; coming from her father, though, she started to consider those words as a possible truth “You’ll be just fine”

“Do you think I’m strong enough?”

She referred physical strength, but also mental, even if she didn’t know what she really meant with that question. In her eyes, her siblings and the other campers she had met seemed all so strong and tough; it was of course the result of years of tutoring in the skills of combat, shaping their moves and reflexes, moulding their bodies. It seemed impossible to ever reach that level of strength.

“My kids are warriors. Eventually, you are strong” Emily did her cute frown, not completely understanding what he meant. Ares had to find the words, not really knowing how to answer her. Oh, his little girl, always asking the tough questions. He hadn’t really thought about that… if he considered her strong enough, but the answer came to him in a breeze once he contemplated it “Yes, you are strong enough. But Emily, strength is not only about size, or power. It’s about determination, and courage; believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Look… you may be small now, but you’re a strong kid. And one day, you’ll grow into a strong warrior”

Emily hugged his legs again then, smiling up at him. The sincerity and admiration in her expression towards him stirred something inside Ares, like the day he had left her at camp.

“Thank you, Daddy”

He nodded, acknowledging her words. She let go of him then, running back to where her Teddy and her plate of cookies lay, grabbing one of said biscuits, offering it to him.

“For you” she smiled, and he was actually speechless for a second, not knowing how to react to such an innocent and kind gesture. Emily understood that in her own way, remembering how she threw part of her food into the fire every day praying to him “Oh… do you want me to burn it for you?”

Ares snickered, a smile taking over his face, shaking his head no. He ruffled her hair, and accepted the cookie; he took a big bite out of it, and Emily smiled again.

----

Taglist: @strawberryys-stuff @ladysybilchronicles @kyuupidwrites @nhloversblog @beansficreblogs @priyajoyy @zeeader @lightsgore

[moldybonessmell]

Spider-squad winter outfits headcanons post!

you can tell i drew different charas in separate days oh wow

So i kinda posted few days ago about recent lack of atsv content Hobie content specifically so i had to deliver myself, amirite? Tho i decided to not stop on Hobie and did the entire spider-squad or perhaps, spider-quad? *badum tss* im funny see

also it's like -38C/-36.4F in my city and i be wearing like four layers at all times so i got inspired can't believe i still love winter when my ass be freezing this bad

So here's my headcanons for spider gang winter outfits!

Let's imagine they all have a mission in winter...

Gwen

She can't really wear her hood bc of wind but everyone teases her about looking bald without it lmaoo so she got one of these knitted hoods instead, also wears one of these fluffy soft jackets

Was wearing uggs until she lost one of the boots during a fight LOL so she got these uggs with velcro fasteners + leg warmers

pics: 1) found-store on Pinterest, 2) wglwkjg on Pinterest, 3) pey on Pinterest, 4) ·˚ Isabella·˚ on Pinterest

Miles

I see him wearing something kinda like his og itsv outfit but winter version with one of these gigantic puffy jackets and nike sneakers with fur inside + a hat with pompom

Let's imagine his jacket is opened, i didn't realise in time it makes his spiderman-outfit not-so-spider looking

pics: 1) Hipok on Pinterest, 2) Nordstrom on Pinterest

Pavitr

He got one of these fluffy earmuffs (because his hair needs to be looking perfect at all times!), a puffy cropped cord jacket, a pair of these puffy winter shoes (these have a ribbon so you don't lose them flying around a city) and a BIG scarf with mittens (he definitely lost one of these tho)

He's the least used to cold out of the squad, but he's being very brave about it and wears a socially acceptable amount of layers

pics: 1) Campus Gifts on Pinterest, 2) WTI Designer on Pinterest, 3) true deals club on Pinterest, 4) liisa rita on Pinterest 5) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Hobie

In contrast with Pavitr he would wear a disturbing amount of layers, definately one of these mfs who wear layers instead of one warm thing

He's got one of these plaid "winter" coats that are thin af but swears he's warm cus it gets hot during fights (nobody believes him cus they watch him start to shiver in real time) (Pavitr crocheting a scarf for him was the only way to make buddy dress fairly properly for cold weather)

At least Hobie got a warm hat, right? Yes, spikes on the mask do just go through it, but it's warm, right? -right? ("it's a ventilation, mate!" or whatever lol)

Got layers of sweaters over each other: a turtleneck-sweater, a cropped one on top + a vest over all these

Would wear his usual boots just with warm socks under

pics: 1) People on Pinterest, 2) Natalia on Pinterest 3) Fur Hat World on Pinterest 4) OLUOLIN on Pinterest 5) Elena Ilieva on Pinterest 6) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Disclaimer: english is not my native and i was SWEATING trying to find how all of these clothes are called in english so if i messed up some names ignore it pls or let me now how they are called correctly

Okay, this is all! Hope you liked it!

[spiderprincess-suffet]

I frickin love my Aus Sally, i purposely made her the opposite of how the fandom majority sees her and I love her now lol.

I feel like the Creepypasta fandom has this overly Pure and innocent view of Sally, with the frilly dresses bows and sweet innocent attitude even not allowing any shipping with her as odd as that is.

I've seen many people headcannon her as Aroace Wich Is fine if you just like it or are even self projecting a bit cuz I've seen people do but, butttt ive also seen a pretty big amount of people headcannon her as Aroace specifically because of the SA in her story, and that's never really sat right with me just cuz it kinda sends the message of

If you've been SA'd in the past you'll never feel love or want to even think of anything romantic or sexual again. Which admittedly can happen as a trauma response but it's not all the time people have many different trauma responses and for my Sally I wanted to lean away from that.

My Sally isn't some innocent girl who can't defend herself and wears all these frilly dresses and needs to be covered at all times, she's not afraid to wear things like Tanktops crop tops shorts heels and just generally more revealing stuff like most of the fandom tends to portray her as, tho obviously it's not to the overly sexualized and inappropriate type of revealing stuff I'm just saying Sally isn't held back by the SA she's grown up and she's not ashamed of her body and not afraid to wear more revealing stuff like Tanktops as it's not what you wear NO ONE deserves SA or is asking for it just by wearing shorts or a crop top and you shouldn't be expected to be innocent and completely covered at all times it's okay to wear whatever it's up to the adults to not be creepy about it.

She's still girly overall loves pink and ribbons and glitter but she's not some innocent child she knows what happened to her was wrong and she's trying to move on from it and live a normal life, she's also not stupid and can defend herself another thing that buggs me is how many people make characters like Masky or Toby or slender always come to her rescue making sure no man can hurt her again but to me that just takes away her agency, saying she needs all the men in her life to protect her when she can protect herself they should be guiding her and teaching her how to fight properly not just doing it for her.

She also likes romance talk my Sally is Bisexual as just because you were SA'd doesn't mean you can never love or want to be loved again shes a normal bisexual girl who gets crushes and sure she still feels awkward and is very cautious especially around men but still she likes to fantasize about going on dates and getting valentine's gifts and that's okay XD

Uh I hope I explained this well im not trying to offend anyone and I'm pretty bad at explaining my thoughts but I tried sorry it might not come off as I intended so feel free to ask questions I'll be glad to attempt some clarifying.🫠

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic jan 22 - cry - 873 words

sapphic jegulus feat. pregnant!jamie (and the wonders/horrors of hormones)

“Mh,” James makes around the mouthful of pretzels she keeps dipping into the Nutella, “He’s kicking again!”

Regulus is already off the step ladder, overalls clad knees hitting the plastic covered floor next to where James is slouched in their camping deck chair.

They’re painting the nursery today. Or, Regulus is, while James is putting up her feet as ordered (not by the midwife but by her god damn fiancé so she better listen) and dipping pickled cucumbers into the chocolate cream as well whenever she thinks Regulus isn’t paying attention.

Which she is never not, and especially since James came back to bed out of their en-suite bathroom with a positive pregnancy test that fateful day a few months ago.

James licks her lips off crumbs and takes Regulus’ hand to where Harry is pedaling away inside her stomach, placing her palm over Regulus’ pale fingers.

It doesn’t take too long for Regulus to feel the skin move under her own palm, James’ skin warm where her shirt has ridden up over the bump.

For a woman that’s refusing to put on anything pregnancy wear related she’s been pretty keen on the idea of Regulus in an old crop top and overalls for her painting get-up.

James chuckles above her when Harry goes a little wild at Regulus’ proximity—she’s convinced he can already differentiate between his two moms.

Regulus less so, since he’s barely the size of an eggplant and all.

Still, she indulges her fiancé, and it’s true nonetheless that speaking to the baby firms the connection even as it’s still inside the womb.

Regulus hums happily, lips tugging at the corners and out of the corner of her eye she sees James’ nose scrunching in delight.

“Hello, babyboy,” she speaks at the belly, “Already training for your first triathlon in there, huh?”

James shakes the shaggy hair out of her doe eyes, grinning cockily, “Of course! He’s gonna place first on his very first go, too.”

Regulus rolls her grey eyes, “Not to already put any pressure on him or anything.”

James rolls hers in return, smile not fading as she brushes some of Regulus’ long, wavy hair behind her shoulder, caressing her cheek with her fingertips. “Love, you know damn well I’ll support him in whatever he chooses to like spending his time doing. But to be honest, between the two of us? I’d bet a Turning he’s on a balance bike before he can even run properly.”

Regulus scowls a little, James unperturbed as she looks back at her before arching a brow.

Regulus bends down over her belly again, cupping a hand around her mouth and whispering at their little baby, “She’s right, y’know. But don’t tell her I said that.”

Her fiancé cackles, throwing her head back and Regulus sets her lips down against the belly in a gentle kiss.

There’s a little sore spot in her chest suddenly and she blows out a breath through her nose, still so close to James’ belly Regulus feels the air hit her back.

“Harry,” she starts, “I know I’m probably not a naturally good mommy. There’s still lots of what I have to learn, and unlearn, especially. But I’m doing the work, I promise. I’m reading the books, and talking to my therapist on a set schedule because I love you. You’re not even here for me to hold but I already love you so much I feel like I could pulverize a whole fleet of ships if it meant nothing bad ever happens to you.”

She kisses the bronze skin again, thumb swiping back and forth over the small spot that keeps being pushed at, “I also know that I’ll mess up eventually but that’s okay because that’s normal. And I promise you—I promise, ok?—that I’ll love you so much it’ll make up for all of it.”

Suddenly there’s a sniffle from above and Regulus head whips around alarmed to see James lips in a quivering pout, chin wrinkling and tears welling impossibly high in her bloodshot eyes.

“Baby,” Regulus makes a cooing noise, moving one hand to cup James’ jaw, “Why are you crying, what’s wrong?”

James gives a little hiccup, aggressively gasping up the snot, “That was so sweet, what the fuck.”

Regulus tucks her lips in to keep from breaking into a small laugh and nods understandingly. James’ hormones have been rollercoastering a little the past few weeks.

“And also hot,” she adds, gaze dipping to Regulus’ lips and then lower where she knows the metal of her pierced nipples is peeking through the cotton. James pulls her lower lip between her teeth, gnawing on it before shrugging slightly, distracted by the view, “Talking about raising hell for his well-being and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Regulus parrots, sliding her hand around to James’ waist and licking the corner of her lips, knowing exactly what the best approach is to get James out of her headspace here now.

In the end, all it takes is Regulus leaning in closer, voice husky and telling James she’d kill for their little family without batting an eye for James to ask her to fuck her on the sofa from behind with the mirror in the hallway facing them.

[welcometo79s]

[repost because I got shadow-banned and I'm back now]

@clonemmunism got me thinking with their post about the war ending and the clones just making very bad fashion choices so here's my thought on what everyone would wear and my rating:

Hunter [4/10]:

Hunter doesn't really care about being fashionable. We got a glimpse of what he would wear in The Bad Batch and I don't think it's very good. He owns a couple of cute scarves but usually he just dresses like a less fashionable Cut Lawquane. And Cut is already pushing it. It's nothing too bad, he just looks like some farmer on Dantooine. No, the bad thing about Hunter is that he literally does not differentiate between clothes he wears going out and clothes he wears practicing knife throwing and juggling with. So most of his stuff has little cuts and tears in it. He also sticks to the type of clothes that Cut gave him, which is the only thing saving him from being a fashion nightmare. He did however try to pick absolutely atrocious clothes for Omega until Echo stepped in. Like he'd attempt to get her a pink shirt with a porg vomiting a rainbow on it and military khakis.

Echo [10/10]:

His outfits are top-notch, he just doesn't dress properly for the seasons. But hey, that's not what we're ranking here. Echo is a crop top guy. Crop tops in summer. Crop tops in winter. And he looks good in them. He wears regular black pants and a variety of casual jackets on top of the crop tops. Sometimes leather jackets, sometimes bomber jackets, sometimes parkas, sometimes open shirts loosely hanging over the tops. Gets matching accessories and high quality boots for his outfits too. Ends up getting himself a belly button piercing. Fashion icon.

Tech [6/10]:

He only has one outfit and it's beige suit pants and a white shirt that's stuffed into the pants. He owns multiple duplicates of the pants and the shirt. Leather shoes. The only thing he switches out about the outfit is that he wears a variety of funky bow ties.

Wrecker [4/10]:

I'm sure there's people on here who found Wrecker's beekeeper outfit from the Saleucami episode cute but it's not very fashionable, nor are the rest of his clothes. Fisherman hats. Crocs. The "my 50 year old dad on the balcony" shoes (those cork sandals). Ponchos and pants that don't fit together color-wise. Sooo many tie dye shirts. Those jeans fabric shorts with lots of cuts in them. The very short ones. Very rarely an elegant evening gown he looks really good in. That gets him an extra point.

Crosshair [5/10]:

He's the Hot Topic Brigade. He has a style and he sticks to it. Some people like it and some don't. Almost always wears a leather jacket. Buys all his clothes at the Star Wars equivalent of Hot Topic.

Fives [7/10]:

Usually wears black jeans and some black t-shirt with printed words on it. Sneakers. Jeans jackets, sometimes with fur. His outfits are good but he wears some of the most atrocious shirts known to mankind. On a good day you get "Viva la Clonevolution", "I'm a Republic War Crime" or "Enemy of the State". On worse days he might wear something that says "Sparkle on you crazy doggo!", "I eat cement", "I can't fucking do be do be do it anymore" (all real shirts by the way) or "Call me the Uwunator". The otherwise completely normal, nice looking outfit adds to the insanity. Sometimes Echo pretends he doesn't know him. It's the fact that Fives does this on purpose that really gets Echo.

Rex [1/10]:

Listen. The Bad Batch and Fives have the privilege of having Echo to be the damage control for their fashion choices. Now we're getting into the bad territory. Rex has so many of these white tank tops that you can see his nipples through. Sometimes there's hot sauce stains on them. He also has a fuzzy jacket that Fives got him as a joke. Rex does not know it was supposed to be a joke. At this point Fives is too intimidated to correct him. He wears light shorts that some rich kid would wear to the golf course under the tank tops. And cowboy boots. Also huge elegant statement necklaces on top of this. And that one stupid fisher hat that says "rexcellent" on it.

Hardcase [2/10]:

Listen the only reason Hardcase has more points than Rex is that Hardcase doesn't want to look fashionable, Hardcase wants to look fun and that he does. He joins Fives in the cringe t-shirt extravaganza. Would wear the ugly pink porg shirt that Hunter wanted to get for Omega. See-through jackets. Glittery heart sunglasses. Glittery silver disco pants that get wider at the bottom. Rainbow bracelets that work like rattles. He annoys everyone around him by shaking his hands to his "improv gospel". Red leather boots that go up to his thighs. Sometimes he wears them under the disco pants, sometimes over them. Fives loves his outfits. He's the only one. Sometimes Hardcase tries out a variety of colorful wigs.

Tup [9/10]:

He looks so cute. So many people hit on him. Lets his hair grow a little longer and starts wearing half-buns. Also a crop top guy, just a little shy about it at first. Wears earrings and looks really nice with them. Has delicate wrist tattoos, maybe some branches with flowers wrapping around his arms. Otherwise simple, normal pants and sneakers.

Jesse [3/10]:

Tup and Fives are carrying the 501st in terms of fashion. The rest are all fashion don'ts. Jesse is no exception. He also wears crop tops but his don't have sleeves or straps. It's just a strapless bandeau top hanging over his pecs. On top of that? Baggy oversized jacket with a comical amount of pockets that he always stuffs full of things. He's been stopped multiple times by the Coruscant Guard and searched as a suspect for being a spice dealer. He just has his pockets stuffed full of candy though. Baggy pants with equally as many pockets fading from blue into purple into red. The jacket is a dark green. Sparkly golden dance slippers.

Dogma [1/10]:

Big sun hats. Very tight leather pants that end just below his crotch area and then restart at the knee. The pants have two parts basically. The two parts are not connected. See-through sneakers. Frilly white shirts that some 18th century vampire would wear. Tie with little loth cats on it. All of this in combination btw.

Fox [10/10]:

I can do this in one sentence, look up "dark academia outfit men" on Pinterest and you get Fox's style.

Mayday [0/10]:

His isn't even an outfit, it's just a bunch of fabrics he bought just like that in the market and somehow wrapped himself in them. There's no shirt, pants, jacket or anything like that, they're just pieces of fabric wrapped around his body like towels. One of them he wears as a scarf. On a good day he looks like some type of monk. On a bad day he just looks like a mess.

Howzer [3/10]:

You know that outfit Sportacus wears in LazyTown? That's his style. He wears things looking similar to that.

[factual-fantasy]

I haaaasss 27 asks :}

Yes. Yes it does.

Thank you! :DD And yeah canon Gregory is just not my vibe man XD

(Traffic cone in question)

Thank you so much! :DD And yeah I try my best to get up and do something productive/different when I'm feeling down like that. My thought process is "well sitting here and sulking isn't making me feel any better so I should go and do something else" Which just so happened to be breaking out the old sewing kit and making a traffic cone?? XD Well to be fair I've made like 10 of those before but still an odd choice on my part-

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked my cars artwork! :DD

And yeah I would draw cars stuff more often but they're just so hard to draw :(

Idk why they decided to jump into a DLC before fixing the base game, but man I really wish they wouldn't have. 😔

I'll do my best! :D

@tallchest13-blog

Yes :} or at least I've been trying to-

Thank you so much! And I did use a pattern to make him. Credit for the patten goes to Tammy Hallam, heres her video on how to make your own too! :}

@montygatorshusband

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

As for Glamrock Bonnie,, ehh, its a bit odd to me. Not a huge fan of the color pallet but its not the worst I've seen. I'd give it a 5.5 outa 10

ALSO! I believe Octonauts is streaming on Netflix, but I've also had some luck finding full episodes on YouTube :0

Thank you! And oh yeah, I feel you on the fandom part. XD That's why I'm still kind'a on the fence and haven't dove head first into my usual angsty stuff. I'm kind'a testing the waters with every post I make to see if I'll collide with the uh, other side of the fandom :x

Thank you! :DDD

Also Google is a search engine. :0 If you search for Octonauts fanart, its gonna do its job and search for fanart and likely find some of the stuff I made. Notice though that all of my artwork shown on Google links directly back to my blog. Its because Google isn't stealing it, its parting the branches of a bush and pointing "Look! Over there is some Octonauts fanart like you requested!" XD

@pinkbomb08

There isn't really anything Gregory can do for Bonnie..

Its hard to explain,, but I'll try. Bonnie is missing his leg from the middle of his shin down. So he cant stand up right like Foxy because- well duh, he's missing a whole foot.

So order to fix Bonnies leg so he can stand/walk like Foxy does, he would need an entire replacement foot with a working joint. This would also mean that the wires in Bonnies legs would have to be replaced and hooked up so that he can control said new foot.

Currently there are no spare parts around that fit Bonnies model.. and even if they did, Gregory wouldn't know how to properly re-wire an animatronic foot. He's smart but not THAT smart <XDD

The only thing Gregory could do is make Bonnie a weird peg leg that makes his current leg longer. Currently Bonnies half leg is shorter than his good leg. But in all honesty Bonnie doesn't really want that.

Having Gregory ducttape this weird goofy peg leg to him would be more embarrassing then what he already has. He'd probably want to salvage what ever dignity he has left and say "ah give it a rest. There's no point. My legs good enough for what its for." <:/

@taizarack

If I remember correctly... Sometime ago my tablet pen broke. And it took like 2-3 weeks for a new one to arrive. In the mean time I tried to make an art doll of sorts. That doll was Bibi!

I ended up making a lot of goofy posts with Bibi and I as I waited for my pen to arrive. Once it finally did and I went back to drawing comics, I ended making Bibi a reoccurring character. And he's been around ever since!

Now Jangles is a Halloween prop that I bought because I thought it was funny. I was practicing making quilts one time and I made a small blue one that just so happened to be the right size for him. So I put it on and then I thiiink I got the idea to add Jangles to my blog as a joke.? I gave Bibi a "new friend" to celebrate hitting 10,000 followers. The new friend was a cropped png of jangles XD

Eventually down the line I wanted to give Bibi an proper friend. So for Bibi's birthday I drew a comic where Jangles came to life and here we are XD

@pinkbomb08

Currently I am getting none of those things :x I have a cold so sleep and food is hard :( Thank you though! :D

@notsoliyah

:D AW!! Thank you! I'm so glad to hear how I've inspired you! :}}

@ur0neand0nly

XD Thank you so much! And don't worry, I'm pretty confident I'll draw him again someday

XD Thank you. To be honest I'm kind'a going back and fourth on this fandom. I don't really wanna be apart of the fandom, but the characters are the only thing I'm interested in drawing atm soo-

@ardent-38

Ooo these are interesting! Although absorbing power ups isn't about digesting them. Its something about being human specifically that allows them to absorb the powerups.. 👀👀👀

@maddiethehatter2192

My advice would be to use references religiously. That's what I did!

Also thank you! :DD

Barnaby for sure.

Well, my interpretation of him really-

@taizarack (Post in question)

@funky-frankie

No there's no SpongeBob comic, I just felt like drawing Mr. Krabs XD

Also THANK YOU!! :DD That means so much!! :}}}

@elegysonnet

<XD thank you. So far I have some pretty basic ones I imagine. Wally's house is alive and evil, Julie is actually a scary monster but has drastically altered her appearance to look less scary.. Sally is very celestial in nature because she's a real star, Eddie used to be a real human and bleeds and has a heart beat and what not.. uuuuuuh what elseeee,,, I liked to imagine that Sally and Julie came to the neighborhood when they were really young and Poppy kind'a adopted them?? Although I don't know how wide spread that idea is XD

Thank you! And yeah I'm not very fond of that portrayal either <XD As for your questions..

1: I'm sure there would be somethings that would push his anxiety to the surface. I'm not sure what they'd be but still- I imagine if Luigi was around to see it he would try to get Mario out of what ever situation he's in. If he's in a crowd he'd try to help him slip away unnoticed.

2: I'm not familiar with the giga bell, but if I did add it I'd imagine those would be the side effects yeah <XD Really sore and tired and cant really move for like 3 days :x

Remodeled or not, I wont be adding any of those animatronics to the Pizzaplex. I already wrote the entire past of this timeline, and those bots all already have a story in my AU. And with their given stories it wouldn't make sense for them to be added to the Pizzaplex.

Of course I cant spoil what those stories are, just know that I have my reasons-

Oh yeah I forgot to add the colored eye lids to Wally and Barnaby in that trampoline drawing <XD

And yeah! I wanted Wally to be much more expressive so I gave him eyebrows-

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

Aw, thank you so much!! Its so cool to hear that you've shared my name with your friends!! :DD

[stemmmm]

Stem's Thoughts on Harvest Moon 64

(that other title's too long so i'm cutting it down now)

Harvest Moon 64 opens on a scene of your character walking around the street, speaking to everyone in the village who’s come to the event. You quickly piece together that this event in question is actually your grandfather’s funeral, the same grandfather who’s farm you’re about to take over. This little scene beautifully sets up both the tone of the game, and immediately shows the player that this iteration is far more focused on the story and characters. HM64 tells a story about the lives of many people in a small, dying town. It is a story about life, and it is a story about death.

A short disclaimer before we dig in: I played this game before the idea to write these essays cropped up, and have not replayed it since then, so this will be mostly vibes. I will try to do my research to make sure I’m not straight up lying though. (Also all of the images in this one are from google because I don't have a means of getting images from my N64 other than photographing the tv screen and I'm not doing that.)

What’s new!

HM64, also called Harvest Moon 2 by HMGB2 and nothing else I’ve ever seen, is the direct sequel to HM SNES. It’s not a sequel in the usual way sequels are, where you’re continuing where you left off with the same character, but in that every main character is the descendant of their equivalent in the previous game. It’s not important to the story, in fact if you don’t already know this, you probably wouldn��t notice anything past some similarities. I played this game before I tried out SNES and it still took me a minute, plus having it directly pointed out to me to get it. Maybe I’m oblivious, who knows. 

Gameplay-wise, this iteration is home of a few series firsts: For one, your house can be upgraded to have a kitchen! You can't cook though, only collect recipes. You can also get a greenhouse where you can grow crops year-round. Sheep are introduced as barn animals that produce wool. You receive a fishing rod you can use whenever you want, but as far as I understand, the timing is nigh impossible unless you’re playing on a CRT (I am not, and never managed to catch a single fish). There’s a mine you can access in winter for something to do while you can’t grow crops (there are fall crops, but not winter) where you can find about two key items and garbage otherwise. Tool upgrades are no longer done by magic, but by leveling them up through use! Which I think is very neat and feels very natural, like you’ve just become more proficient with them as a farmer through practice. Characters can now come to visit you on the farm at random times, for either special story events or just to say hi! Your farmer can get sick from working too hard in bad weather, just like your animals, and there’s now medicine for that, just like your animals. And there’s inventory menus that I'll discuss at better length later.

What’s the same is… Most things in a basic sense. You’re on a farm with a dog, planting crops, raising livestock. You can make friends with folks in town by talking to them and giving them gifts. The livestock mechanics, as far as I could see and as far as I’ve been able to understand from online forums, are exactly the same as they were in SNES, the exception being there’s no wild beasts that can kill your animals but they’ll still get sick if they aren’t fenced overnight– and they’re not going to eat any grass unless they’re out overnight anyways.

As for your farm, you’re set up with the usual: a small house, a barn, coop, and fodder silo, a wood bin to store debris cleared off your farm, and a big messy field that you have to clean up before you can properly use it. It starts with three new additions though; a doghouse, a bowl that you can feed your dog with by putting edible items in there, and a mailbox that you’ll occasionally receive letters and notices in! They’re small additions, but very, very charming. The one thing that’s been removed is the toolshed, now replaced by a tiny toolbox by your house.

The world outside your farm is like an enhanced version of the SNES map. Imagine the town and forest now have one or two extra sections tacked onto them, one in the town for some extra housing, and a couple in the forest to let you explore the mountain more and get you deeper into the woods. The mountain still has a cave in it (this time with Harvest Sprites, who have been removed from your farm) and a summit you can climb to for certain events, but it has been upgraded with little wild animals that wander around and can be picked up and shown to people for a few friendship points, if they like the animal. (This applies to your dog too, there’s a well known exploit to max out Karen’s friendship in one day by repeatedly showing it to her in the bar where time is stopped.) The crossroads zone is also expanded by having three new areas you can travel to– the ranch that you buy animals at, a vineyard that’s more of a story-area, and a beach that mostly comes into play for a couple of summer festivals! 

On the visual side, this game is the series’ first venture into the new frontier of 3d graphics… kind of. The artstyle is made of isometric 3D models that are rendered into flat sprites and then projected onto the TV as if that’s not what’s happening. The game even lets you turn your farm around in 3D to face different directions, but it’s locked to only let you play in specific angles. Changing the direction made me forget where everything was and get lost on my own tiny farm, so I never touched that mechanic.

Due to the dramatic artstyle shift– not only being in 3D but also presented at a 45 degree angle, the game becomes a fair bit harder to play than either of its 2D predecessors. The controls are just a little clunky, and the bizarre shape of the N64 controller really doesn’t help. This makes the tedium of farming a little irritating to do, since it requires pretty precise inputs done over and over for every extra thing you’re trying to grow. Fortunately, you're not on the hook to ship everything before 5PM comes around like in SNES, so you get to move a little bit slower. The fickle farming experience also gets a little help from the new inventory menu that can be accessed anywhere and any time. It has multiple inventory slots for both tools and items, each type having a dedicated section so there’s no need to prioritize carrying tools versus turnips. Unfortunately, this actually ends up being a little more cumbersome than useful, as the menu takes a little longer than is comfortable to open and is pretty clunky to use. I mostly avoided it unless I was bringing gifts to people. But the addition of an inventory opens up the opportunity for something else which defines this entire game...

Key items– a set of unique, unsellable items –are most frequently found in random, secret places around the farm and town, and they give you a reason to scour every inch of the place. They can also be given to you by NPCs when you gain relationships with them, which is convenient because their entire purpose is to help you get even better relationships with each of them, and maybe even unlock little stories with characters. For example, there’s a music box you can dig up in your field that can be given to any of the girls for a decently sized relationship bump. There’s also an old weathervane in the shape of a chicken that you can find in the little mine. If you give it to Rick, he’ll tell you that it was a precious thing that belonged to his grandmother as a cute scene to deepen the town’s lore and connect it to the first game. Key items quickly become the most important and sought after things in the game because they act as a vessel to deliver that which the game is all about: stories.

Lots of people in a little town

The narrative premise is exceedingly simple: you need to fix up your grandfather’s ruined farm and make a new life for yourself in this town within a certain amount of time, just like its predecessors. Except, this game is a lot bigger than either of them, and it didn’t fill all the extra space with new things to grow on your farm. In my entry on the SNES game, I mentioned that the introspective style of writing turned the repetitive farming gameplay into something more like meditation on things going on in the town. This game takes that idea and runs with it! The town in this game may only be slightly bigger than it was before, but it has a lot more people in it, and every single one of them has a lot more to say, more to do, more festivals to go to, and more story events to take part in. There's even a new photo album that fills in with images for reaching special events or succeeding at certain festivals! Your given goal may be to successfully revitalize your farm, but that rapidly stops being the reason why you want to play. Farming is only a means to further the narrative of the town.

Story events are no longer a reward for reaching the highest heart level with a girl, but instead something that happens naturally in the world as you make better friends with people, or if you just happen to be in the right place at the right time. The world doesn’t only consist of you living it and things happening to you. Instead, you end up being a fly on the wall to other people’s conversations and life events, and you get to see how those events change the people around you. People will begin to say different things, go different places, live different lives without your input at all– often much better lives, as everyone in the town is pretty deeply troubled, whether they seem like it or not.

There’s an added depth, too. While the characters in this series have always been defined by their conflicts (in the first game, every big cutscene with each girl was exclusively about their major life conflicts), this game takes it further in multiple ways. Characters have conflicts with their families: you as the player have a conflict with your parents who can take you home if you fail to farm well, Lillia and Basil have conflict over their marriage and the fact that Basil leaves for half the year, and Karen’s family situation is…. A lot. Then, there are characters at conflict with things much more nebulous, like the Mayor who tells you that the town is going to die out but he can’t find any way to save it, or like the young boy Kent who wants to be a farmer just like you, but through a series of events is forced to learn that life isn’t so simple, people can’t just do whatever they would like, and it takes very hard work to get to do the things you dream of. And then there are conflicts that aren’t even necessarily conflicts unless they run into your long-term plans.

Instead of only having a bunch of girls in town who exist only as your prospective marriage candidates, there are also five boys in the town who will marry those girls instead of you, if given the chance. Like in SNES, there are 5 levels of hearts that the girls can have for you. Unlike SNES, each one of these hearts has a corresponding event you can have with the girl where there’s a chance of her liking you more afterwards, if you say the right things. In addition to that though, there are just as many events coming from the other side of the story, rival events that trigger if you happen to be good friends with the boys.

My favorite story by far is that of Harris the mailman who falls in love with the librarian, Maria, from just seeing her handwriting on the outside of all the letters that she would write. I frequently saw him in the bar at the end of the day and he would tell me the woes of his love, saying that he just needed to work up the courage to finally speak to her. Then one day, I happened to be outside of the library when he and Maria met face to face and she handed over a letter addressed to him. No longer did he sit in the bar forlorn every night, instead all he would do was excitedly tell me about Maria, and then when I visited the library, Maria would tell me about Harris!

While I’m on the subject of these characters, I think it’s worth going in a little more depth on who these people are past the grandchildren of the characters from the last game. See, you may be familiar with names like Karen and Kai and Gray, etc., etc. from a little recently remade game called Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town, which is a modern version of Friends of Mineral Town on the GameBoy Advance, which is a port of Back to Nature on the PlayStation. These are not those characters. At all. While the basic elements of these characters are intact– Popuri is cute and childish, Ann is a workaholic, Maria is shy and a little oblivious –nothing else is the same. They all work different jobs and marry different people than they are paired with in later entries, and in my humble opinion, it all works WAY better in this game, probably because of the fact that these characters were designed for this specific context!

As an example, Popuri’s exasperated mother, Lillia, runs the flower shop and Popuri was named by her father, Basil, who loves plants. She’s childish and sweet and loves flowers, but can also be a complete brat. She eventually marries Gray, Ann’s brother, who lives on the ranch run by his father, Doug, who struggles to understand his children. Gray is an angry young man who seems to have a particular dislike for you, but you don’t learn why until you discover he was a promising young jockey until he got a bad injury and had to give up the sport.

Am I gushing a bit and letting the game design part fall to the wayside? Sure probably, but I can only gush because the game does a brilliant job of making a cast of characters who, while simple on their own, have interconnected lives that come together to give every one of them so much more depth than they would have otherwise. It all builds a narrative, and while narrative design is definitely something different than game design on its own, this game is far more about the narrative so it’s impossible to not focus on.

The problems

The trouble with these events is that I nearly missed the chance to see that letter be exchanged. You have some control over the progression of the events, because you have to be decent friends with the boys in order for them to trigger at all, but unlike the girls who have a handy visual signal of how much they like you, the boys have no such thing, so you can’t really know if a new event is ready to fire off. There’s no way of knowing where or when they’ll happen either unless you look it up, and even then you have to get lucky because sometimes they just don’t trigger when you want them to. I had a lovely moment in my game where I managed to accidentally catch a cold from working too hard in the snow and lost a day to being bedridden, followed by the New Years celebration which takes a day away from you, then followed by Kai and Karen’s wedding– something that I had missed multiple events for and therefore had no idea was coming, which also took a day from me. After that three day chain of no work, I think I was extremely lucky my animals didn’t get sick and die. 

This chain of events led directly to me never speaking to Gray again, even though he was the boy I was most interested in, because I wanted to marry Popuri and there was too much risk of him getting to her before I could. The reason why I didn’t go into more detail about the relationship between those two when I was talking about them earlier is because I straight up don’t know it, I couldn’t risk giving them a chance to get together.

The thing is, even if I hadn’t forced Gray and Popuri’s cutscenes to stop, I still wouldn’t actually know what their relationship is like, because I have not beaten this game. I know what the ending entails and I can reasonably expect I probably would not have gotten an excellent one, but I’m sure it still would have been fine. I stopped playing the game entirely before I even managed to get married. Why? Because I couldn’t get any of Popuri’s heart events to trigger. I had her hearts maxed out and had a blue feather ready to go in my pocket, so I could turn on the game and marry her right away anytime I wanted to. But I wanted to trigger the little events, even if they’re just a couple seconds of some pixels talking to me on a screen. They’re cute. And it made me sad that I couldn’t see them for some imperceptible reason. So I stopped playing and didn’t pick the game back up.

I don’t remember how close I was to the end of the game, I know I was at least in year 2, but I don’t even remember how much longer the game is after that. Probably a good amount. I had definitely gotten most of the events you could get at this point, since multiple other characters had gotten married, and the farming wasn’t something I really enjoyed so I can’t say I wasn’t at least a little bored by this point, but I wasn’t frustrated with the general mechanics of the game. The days were long enough, but not too long, that I had just enough time to go anywhere I wanted and do what I needed before night came. I could still talk to characters and go to festivals and play minigames. But I didn’t want to, because the game wasn’t doing what it seemed like it was supposed to for some arbitrary reason and that frustrated me enough to make me stop. When the fun of a game is found more in experiencing special events rather than anything else, the player feels cheated out of their good time when those events are too hard to find or can be missed outright, and that’s exactly what I experienced.

Parting Thoughts

The ending, according to what I've read, is very similar to the SNES endings, in that you’ll get different results based on all of the different things you’ve done. Whether you’re married, how many crops you shipped, how many animals you have, how well liked you are by the town… I imagine it’s not quite the victory lap that SNES’s ending was with its little cutscenes, since apparently all you get are comments on how well you performed by various people in the town, but it still seems nice and rewarding! At least like more of a reward than whatever the hell GB1 was trying to do. It seems like a perfectly good ending that it would be nice to see myself someday.

Despite all my troubles with this game, I believe HM64 is still the best one out there– at least that I’ve played yet. The events are plentiful and the content is meaty. The repetitive day to day dialogue still has the simple breath of life that SNES did, that manages to make the most out of a small amount. Don’t get me wrong, this game came out in 1999, I’m giving it a lot of praise but the characters still repeat the same line to you every day, and they still freeze in place until you leave the room. It’s revolutionary, but this is comparing it to a game on the literal Super Nintendo. Absolutely pick up this game to try it out, but keep those expectations tempered. That said, I never picked up this game nor knew a thing about it until I was well into my 20’s, but the moment I started playing, it hit me with a wave of nostalgia as if I’d known this game my whole life. At least to me, the look and feel of the game were like coming home to a childhood I never had.

 Will I pick up this game again with the intent to beat it? Maybe! Hard to say for sure when I’m trying to play decades worth of games and write about them at a comprehensive level. What I do know is that this is exactly what I want more farming games to be. It’s a game that has thoughts about life, and about death, both good and bad. And I think this is the perfect context to share those thoughts.

[bimbombimbo]

thistook like way too long it was supposed to be a doodle

anyways uhhh kid sniper and his trapinch!!! + grown up.. and flygon.. i have been rotating tf2 pokemon in my brain !!

You guys wanna listen to me ramble about tf2 Pokemon so baaad.. go on.. click on the read more thing...

OKAY SO i need to get this out of my system

It's probably obvious that Mick had been a difficult kid (of course, given that he was an outcast probably: the slim, small, weird kid with no body hair) and very much without friends. He'd have been the object of, mockery and nasty jokes and things like that; school sucks buddy!

Applying that into a Pokemon world: Mick would have definitely wanted a huge, strong pokemon. Probably to be able to properly defend himself, one like Kangaskhan, or a Zangoose or a Seviper (or even better, a Charizard just like he'd seen on TV!). Of course, having a strong pokemon would require years of training (and bonding too!), something that required a level of patience little Mick hadn't built yet. So, knowing his way into the woods due to always hanging around there by himself (comfort? escape? who knows), he goes deeper and deeper. Yeah, he tries to catch creatures he deems "strong", and horribly fails, again and again.

During one of these awful attempts, he returns home, frustrated and tired. However, the constant trips to this unknown part of the outback (and, of course, making a lot of noise) had attracted a teeny tiny creature: a Trapinch! The weak link of his group, low level, weak thing (but fierce and with a high defense), its presence isn't recognized until Ms. Mundy finds a lot of her crops missing and others bitten.

Of course, Mick finds the plague and brings it back to the outdoors, away from home. But it refused!Going back to the little boy's house each time it is taken away. Catching it on a small trap, Mick is willing to exterminate it, but something talks to him. Maybe he saw himself in the eyes of that tiny critter (who was struggling in a cage that wasn't made for it), or maybe he learned some empathy from his mother, or maybe he just wanted to contradict his dad. So, he keeps it in the end.

Clearly, the kid doesn't expect much from this, little creature that fits in his backpack (bad idea: he shouldn't have brought it with him to school, now he's also the weird pokemon kid). But still, he feeds it, he brings it with him everywhere (can't trust his dad enough), and slowly gets used to its presence.

The Trapinch soon tags along Mick into his hunting trips. The kid trains his precision with the bow and, in a couple of years later, his dad's rifle. Understands his companion's hunting method too, and slowly begins to train and teach new moves to it. A bond is forming! Through the years, Mick starts seeing the Trapinch as a pet (not that his family didn't had pets, but this one? it was his. the connection was visible between them)

The bullying problem doesn't stop though. Mick learns to avoid it, and avoid telling his parents about it (given that he already defends himself, and he doesn't want to make a fuss out of it). He drops school around his last years, dedicating himself to only hunting for some time, taking about a sixteen/seventeen year-old guy probably.

And wahoo! Word gets around about the quiet guy that headshots all the bunnies and deers and just like that he gets his first actually sniper job. (Not really going into that, let's focus on the pokemon aspect instead)

Trapinch probably evolves around this time. Not an extremely incredible event (some evolutions are televised) but Sniper might have not expected a Big Dragon-Fly. Vibrava is such a cool pokemon tho, it gets a while for Sniper to get used to the new name.

- Fun idea a friend of mine commented: "Vibrava can get him his jars to pee. It can also work as a bomb helicopter or smth: it grabs the jarate, flies above the enemy and drops it in their head"

However I do think they wouldn't have gone in much sniping jobs together, given a feral Vibrava's nature of, uh, the ultrasonic waves thing. It probably goes away a lot, into the outback all by itself. That's fine, but Sniper can't stop thinking his pokemon is going to leave and not come back some day.

Around this time, Sniper gets his contract at RED, travelling to Americs (probably around, 23 years old?) Forgive me for I don't know much about dates and ages! I headcannon Sniper to be in his mid 30's during the comic (Even though I'm pretty sure he's canonically 26, I'm sorry, I can't imagine him being younger than 30)

Sniper brings Vibrava with him into his (recently obtained) van, close to RED headquarters. For obvious reasons, it is not taken into the matches, but it's left out of its pokeball to explore around. At first, it doesn't return to sleep one night. Then it happens more often.

And it finally happens. Vibrava doesn't come back for a day, two days, a week. Of course, Sniper feels devastated, thinking it's gone for good (but leaving his window open everyday, just in case...)

He wakes up one day (or is it night? probably too early to notice), having heard a strong wind move his van. Groggy, goes outside to check if a storm of some kind is approaching, and he'd greeted by an enormous, dragon-bug thing that grabs him by the arms and lifts him up in the sky.

Flygon is way stronger than Vibrava. Bigger, of course, and more active. But still playfully bites at his hands, and still lays on its back demanding belly rubs like a dog (just like it used to do when it was a Trapinch). They go on camping trips together a lot. Sniper could technically go on its back, but he doesn't want to leave the van alone.

Sniper probably looks back to when he was a kid and is glad to not have uh, eliminated the pokemon when he had a chance.

FUCK THAT'S A LOT? i ain't reading allat 😂 if you're here thanks for reading i love you

[thebigsl33p]

Last Words of A Shooting Star (2/?)

A/N: Hello!! It's been a while!! This took me ages to start and ages to finish, it will probably need editing but that's alright!! Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 4176 Thank you all for the sweet comments and reblogs!! unfortunately, my comments don't work!! but they're appreciated all the same!!! <3

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries @myanmy @oliviaewl @summersummoner-pat @augustwithquills @lost-tothe-centuries @wonderland2425 Part 1 - Masterlist -

The rumours around The Sanctuary start instantly. The change in the Shadow Summoner and the Star is clear to see - their little giggles which are closer than before, the casual touches - a hand on a back, a hip, an arm, the occasional kiss to the cheek or playful glance across the mess hall - it’s all noticeable to those who are watching.

And people are watching. It’s endearing in a way; it brings a warmth and a light to the halls which had previously been found in the other young couples. For a little bit, life in The Sanctuary is quiet and good and domestic.

Winter changes that.

Winter brings harsh winds and even harsher journeys. More groups of Grisha begin to arrive at The Sanctuary, with that familiar hollow gaze and blood stained nails, throats screamed raw and clothes muddied and singed at the edges. Winter brings an increase in Royal patrols and Druskelle raids. Winter brings war, and death and hunger: the sudden decline of crops means rations are implemented, and with the ever rising population it suddenly becomes very hard to feed all the Grisha.

Living becomes a team effort - it has to be, or else if one person goes, everyone goes with them.

The Sanctuary, once filled with warmth and sunlight and laughter, becomes quiet and cold, pensive and reflective, serene in a melancholy way. The world, once golden, has been bathed in grey.

They’re laying in bed together one night, an act done in intimacy, but also to preserve warmth, when Aleksander murmurs something against Y/N’s hair. When she hears the muffled noise, she pulls the lower half of her face out from under the patchwork sheets and glances up at him, “What’s that, lapushka?”

“I think we should leave The Sanctuary.” And her heart stops.

He pulls his face out of her hair to repeat, “I think we should leave The Sanctuary. For good. We could go - and make our own life. Away from all this suffering.” he says quietly, and he knows it’s selfish but suddenly he finds himself with something to lose - he refuses to lose her to this life.

Her eyes widen a fraction, her brows drawing together, “…How?” She says softly, “Everything we have is here We can’t just…”

Aleksander leans up onto his elbow to gaze down at her, his eyes almost pleading, “But it wasn’t always. We survived together when we first met, we can do it again until we find a… a home. Please, Zvezda.” And his spare hand came up to cradle her face, “Let me take you away from all this. Please.”

She swallows as she leans into his hand and lets her eyes flutter shut. The Star sighs, “Aleks… You really want to?” She asks hesitantly.

He answers instantly, “Yes. I do. Let me take you somewhere where we’ll be happy, and we’ll always be safe.” He leans his head down to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, “I promise.”

-

They leave in the early morning, their few belongings packed into bags and placed on the back of a brown speckled horse, which they ungraciously name Madga, after the fairytale. It’s the type of morning where the sun doesn’t rise properly and instead paints the sky a pale blue, a low fog has settled on the grass and the mud has yet to thaw. The only noise for miles around is the brush of the wind and the leaves, and the crows calling down the morning.

The goodbye is hard. Consisting of furrowed brows and slight sniffs, Aleksander and Y/N hug, and shake hands, and kiss cheeks with the people whom they have lived with, survived with, for the past few months. The people who are the same as them, who they have an identity and kinship with - who know their struggles and feel their hardships.

They know they’re leaving together, neither one of them is alone, but it’s still the loss of a community. And a damn painful loss at that.

The final goodbye is said and done, and suddenly their backs are to The Sanctuary and the winding path in front of them is daunting yet manageable. One of his gloved hands is holding the reigns of the horse, the other finds hers. Likewise, one of her hands rests limply above the handle of her sword, tucked neatly into its holder, but the other’s fingers intertwine with his, an unspoken I’ve got you. And then they’re going, leaving their home and their friends and their cause, in hopes of a better life.

With each crunch of their boots the mud begins to melt, the winter morning sun doing very little to soften the blow of the winds which knife them. The horse trots happily behind them, whinnying and huffing sometimes but overall content with the gentle pace they’ve set. It’s the beginning of their journey and their not trying to exhaust themselves on the first day. The first day, which they spend walking among trees and branches which have been stripped by winter, is gentle. They talk idly and laugh occasionally, settling into their choice that they have made. Coming to terms with it.

They spend the first night in, what was once, a field, but was now mostly cold dirt and frozen mud. Aleksander and Y/N set up a small fire just big enough to cook the little meat they had decided to use with a tiny bit of bread, and they place their roll mats side by side, layering their thin blankets with their coats and jackets and curling up beside one another to preserve heat.

They exchange soft kisses and quiet murmurs, compliments and hands slipped under shirts, her fingers tracing over scars, his thumb rubbing circles over her hip. It’s comfort and sweetness in a journey that is unsure and vague, but familiar in its routine. They’ve been here before.

The first village they come upon is uninhabitable. The signs of struggle are clear - the piles of belongings abandoned on the road, the out-of-place burnt husks of homes, sandwiched between pristine cottages and buildings. Makeshift memorials and graves. The entire village buzzes with paranoia and anger, people’s heads whip around too fast and the entire market is full of yelled accusations - so they make a point to avoid it.

It’s clear what’s happened here: any and all Grisha families, travellers, people even so much as suspected of being Grisha, have had their homes and livelihoods stolen from them, their belongings, their toys, photos, trinkets and memories, tossed onto the street like rubbish. As they pass both Y/N and Aleksander keep their heads down with the quiet knowledge that, hopefully, those people had a peaceful end.

The Star and the Shadow Summoner pass through the village quickly, hiding any and all marks of being, or being associated with, Grisha - both their Kefta’s hidden by large coats and layers for warmth. They get a few odd looks but nothing that’s out of the ordinary for travellers. They pass through with pits in their stomachs and tightly clutched hands.

Their journey is long and never easy. Winter only gets harsher, only seems to punish them. There are moments where leaving the Sanctuary feels like a mistake - cold nights with only one another for comfort where they miss the food and the beds, and the warmth of a proper fire or the food-hall.

And it’s hard with both the Druskelle and the King’s Men suddenly being so much more vigilant. They’re everywhere, around ever village, town, city. Which means their journey is limited to lesser travelled paths and darkness - which isn’t too much of a bother. Aleksander is a Shadow Summoner, and Y/N’s a literal star. So, darkness is something they’re rather familiar with and is hardly a daunting or unwelcomed propsect.

However, an odd tension rises when they pass by another city - this one, ransacked by the King’s Men. And the flyers which litter the town: she manages to catch one under her shoe, and she bends down to pick it up, Aleksander’s brow furrowing, “What do they say?” He asked softly.

Y/N turns it around, her eyes scanning over the paper to read the words. A demand from the King, calling for the arrest of the Shadow Summoner. Her eyes flickered to him, wide and alarmed, “Sasha…”

“…damn.” He muttered, running a hand through his dark hair, “…Y/N, zvezda.” He sighed, taking the pamphlet off her, “…We’ll have to take extra care to avoid towns. C’mon.” And he took her hand, guiding her out of the town and to the path which went around the settlement, a good distance away.

During the journey he’d taken on that brooding look she was so accustomed to, which she recognised as him either being deep in thought, annoyed, or angry. And it seemed to be an odd combination of all three. She let him simmer in it for a bit, until she tapped his hand with her fingers, “Love?”

He glanced towards her, acknowledging her questioning. He simply squeezed her hand softly.

“We should talk about it,” she said gently, “This is a big threat, and we can’t just pretend-”

“I promised you safety.” he muttered, his eyes dark and focused on the path ahead, “I promised you safety and happiness, and just you being with me jeopardises that. Jeopardises you, and I refuse to be the reason that…”

Her brow furrowed softly, her eyes pinned on him as he continued, “I refuse to be the reason that something happens to you, all because you… and…” He swallowed, “You are… so, precious to me. And the idea that you just being around me may put you into danger - if anything happened to you-”

“I know.” She said softly, “Sasha, I know. We’re both hazards to one another.” She acknowledged, “I mean, Saints,” she playfully untucked a strand of her silvery hair from her hood, trying to lighten the mood, “I’m a glaring obstacle,” she weakly joked, “And- not to mention our Keftas. So, yeah, we’re risks to one another. A risk I’m willing to take.”

Aleksander sighed, finally glancing at her, still burdened but slightly relieved. He nodded firmly, his thumb tracing her knuckles.

-

The end of winter brings the husk of a tiny cottage, on the edge of a glade. The trees are sparse and the ground is mulch but there’s a stone structure, half falling apart, the walls slightly toppled and with little proof of previous inhabitants save for an old wooden table and the shell of a bed: just a wooden structure.

They spend the first night there, make a mattress out of their clothes and bags and coats, light a meagre fire in the unused hearth but it’s enough to provide heat. The first night, turns to two nights, then to three, and then a week, and all of a sudden things are… comfortable. Suddenly their belongings find homes - their little trinkets kept on mantles and sides.

By the second week, it’s decided they will stay. And they settle into domesticity. The first action is to fix the bed, and they quickly discover there’s a nearby village, tiny, but enough to purchase produce and other resources. She goes, having teasingly banned him from entering any villages or towns due to the declaration. The declaration which they keep as a slightly playful memento above the fireplace, pinned to the wall and the stones.

Gradually, the seasons change.

It gets warmer, sunnier, days become longer. They fix the walls, make a mattress, they take it in turns to chop firewood and cook, days are filled with joy and ease and love.

It’s a quiet evening, the two of them sat side by side at their dining table as the share intimate memories and stories, Aleksander’s voice low as he recounts the stories she knows on surface level, “…I travelled around a lot as a kid. My mother - well, we’re both Shadow Summoners - She works at The Sanctuary. She meant well when she raised me, I think. Now, she’s just bitter.” he murmured, “We stayed at a Grisha camp…” And the story goes on, as he finally tells her the truth of his childhood.

And his first incident with The Cut.

In return she tells him of her experience as a Star. The years spent above, witnessing human life, longing for that. Of having an unimaginable understanding of human civilisation and development and being entirely unable to partake in it. And the stories which the mortals make of her and her kind, this need to understand and name, to see figures and shapes in the constellations.

They listen to one another’s stories respectively, offering soft smiles and gentle encouragements. They listen to one another’s stories with love.

-

It’s been months since they’ve settled at the homestead, and it’s late summer. The air is thick and warm and comfortable, and they’re working in the field together. She’s hanging up their laundry, while he folds what’s been taken off the line and places it onto a chair they’ve brought outside. The line which they put up together, connecting from the side of the building to the treeline. He’s sitting in the grass as she rinses off and wrings the clothes, shaking them out and putting them out in the sun.

And then suddenly water hits her cheek. And she makes a show of gaping at him, “Oh, you did not.”

He’s got his hand in the bucket, sitting cross legged in the field with a mischievous grin on his handsome face, “And if I did?”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, and then makes a show of dipping clothes in the bucket, wringing it out, and then shaking it out in his face so the water flicked all over him, “Milaya!” He cried out, as she chuckled at his reaction, “Fine, I suppose I deserve it…” And then suddenly, he pauses.

She’s standing above him, the setting sunlight just behind her head, lighting up her hair like… well, starlight. Spun silver. And she’s laughing, and his heart stops in his chest.

“What?” She laughs, noticing his expression, “What is it?”

Finally, Aleksander shakes his head and returns to folding, an amused quirk at his lips, “Oh, nothing, zvezda.”

She mutters something in return, making another show of huffing as she returned to hanging up the laundry.

“You’re so pretty when you’re annoyed,” he teased, resting his head in his hand.

“Aleks…” She warns, a playful glare in his direction.

“What?” He laughs, leaning back on his hands, “I’m simply stating the truth.”

“You are insufferable.” She huffs.

“You love me.”

“I do.”

And he softens like ice cream on a hot day at her words, his smile shifting from teasing to adoring, dopey and warm, “I love you too, zvezda. Even if you think I’m insufferable.” In return she gives him a smile over her shoulder, finishing up the laundry, “C’mon. We’ll cook together tonight, love.”

“If you insist,” he muses, standing with a soft groan. As they go into the house together, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, “I’m getting old, lapushka.”

“Oh, please,” she playfully scoffed, “You’re barely…” She falters then, her brow furrowing, “…I don’t actually know how human age works.” She admits.

His brow raises a fraction, before he begins to explain to her how human’s - mortals - classify age. Which leads to their evening being full of age-based jabs and him explaining to her the concept of birthdays over stew. It’s easy, and they tumble into bed together that night in fits of giggles and quiet kisses.

It’s home.

They sleep peacefully through the nights beside one another and gradually the searching and persecution begins to die down. Just enough for them to toy with the idea of going out together for the first time in months. Typically, only one of them goes out a time, keeps their head down and focuses on getting whatever they left to get and returning as soon as possible. But things are changing, and Spring always has a certain… ability, to put a haze on life. Especially when you’re in love.

And so, on an early Saturday morning, they set out for the nearest town with the hope that the market will be busy and they can slip right in with all the other travellers and unfamiliars.

When Aleksander and Y/N arrive the market is busy. Thriving. Wonderfully convenient for the two of them to walk hand in hand and to browse things they’ll never buy: various fabrics and jewellery, cheeses and jams and expensive cuts of meat. It’s easy to get swept up in the current of the constantly moving bodies.

“Hey, look at that,” he lets out a soft huff of amusement through his nose as he points out a little stall of baked goods, already taking her hand and dragging her there, “Shall we?”

“Aleks-”

Before she can stop him he’s reaching into his pocket, handing over a number of coins to the vendor and receiving two slices of cake. He nods his thanks before turning to her with a cheeky grin, holding out the slice, “For you, milaya.”

Y/N sighs but takes the cake with a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

Simultaneously both the Star and the Shadow Summoner raise the cake to their lips and nod in agreement that it’s good. And they keep walking, arm in arm and eating their cake.

For a little bit they’re just… normal. He doesn’t have shadows at his fingertips, and she’s not a celestial body. For a moment, as they buy carrots and onions, garlic and cuts of meat, they’re just an average couple without an arrest warrant on their heads. They relish in it, the lack of stares in the busy market, their anxiety doesn’t spike, her hand doesn’t clutch his any harder. It’s sunny, and they’re browsing, and somewhere church bells are ringing, announcing mid-day.

They return home, arms full of produce to ensure good-tasting meals for the next few days. And they don’t suspect a thing.

-

“Milaya,” he says, entering with a panic and already gathering their bare necessities, “We need to go. Now.”

It’s a mild summer evening, she’s sitting at the table when he enters, her brow furrowing. Aleksander’s panicked and tense manner is clear. He had only gone into town for an hour or two, she doesn’t understand what’s changed.

“Sasha,” She stands, discarding whatever she was doing at the table, “Calm down - what’s wrong?” And then a noise from outside, the huff of a horse. “Sasha, why is Madga?- What- What’s happening?” As she watches her lover hurry around their small home, swiping things into two bags.

He doesn’t look up as he hurriedly answers, “We were too careless, Y/N.” She can hear his anger in his tone, “God- I don’t know what we were thinking,” He huffs. And finally pauses and looks up at her, “They’ve found us.”

“Who have?” she urged, rounding the table to stop him, taking him by the arms, “Aleksander, who have?”

His dark eyes, as dark as his shadows, meet hers and he swallows, his hands shaking slightly as he urges them to still, “…The King’s Men.”

“…The King’s Men.” She echoes, her eyes widening before she turns and hisses, “Shit. Shit. Alright, let’s go.” And begins to help him in gathering their belongings, “How? I don’t- we-”

“We were careless.” He says, his voice low as he begins to gather any food they can take with them, “Careless and presumptuous. We got too comfortable.” And it all clicks into place - busy markets and bustling stalls hide more than just Grisha.

“The market,” She mutters, “And then we just- kept going back.”

He glances up and nods, “Yeah,” he sighs, a shaky exhale, “The market. I noticed them there today and… well, they noticed me, Lapushka… we don’t have long, before-”

The sound of hooves on the dry soil outside still both their hearts and their eyes widen. There’s yelling - goading and jesting - laughter echoing through the summer air and causing nausea to well up in the guts of the two lovers.

They both know it’s too late but still Aleksander’s shadows swarm the room in a mass of black and extinguish the candles, she barely has time to see his hands move before they’re plunged into darkness.

The only thing she can hear is their breathing and, guided only by moonlight, her hand slips into his, their mutual fear palpable. She want to whisper to him, to tell him no matter what happens she loves him. She doesn’t. Instead she attempts to swallow her nerves and blocks out the sound of footsteps around the house.

And then a voice, low and teasing and menacing, “We know you’re in there, Grisha scum. And that whore you keep with you.” It earns a round of laughs, “Come out. Or we’ll have to come in.”

Aleksander can feel his heart in his throat. And Y/N’s hand in his. The decision isn’t hard, and he’s quick about it, too quick for her to stop him as his hand slips from hers, and he steps out of the house, moon and firelight flooding in through the door.

She watches him go with words of protest dying on her tongue as he steps out, his hands raised at his side, still and displayed, “I approach peacefully,” His voice low and calm as he steps into view of the King’s Men, “With a message for the king: if he or his men slaughter any more of my Grisha-”

She takes the chance to gather final belongings, her back turned to the door as she listens to the exchange, desperate for any kind of final escape.

Y/N can hear another man’s voice, a low chuckle, “The King wants you back alive…” there’s footsteps, she can see Aleksander’s expression in her mind’s eye: disdain and anger, “…but maybe you resisted, so…” it’s taunting and it turns her stomach.

There’s a sound of piercing clothes and flesh, a low grunt and her heart seizes as her head whips around to the doorway. But it’s too late, and she makes eye contact with a man in a royal uniform, twice her size. She lurches forward for her sword but he grabs her hair and yanks it back. Y/N falls against him, right up to his chest, whereupon the soldier wraps his arms around her neck and torso, keeping her pinned to his body and unable to struggle, his grip tight as he marches her out the house and into Aleksander’s line of sight.

She watches his face pale and fall, “Zvezda…”

“I’m sorry,” is all she can murmur, “I’m sorry…” And there’s an overwhelming fear running through her. This sudden realisation that this is it, her short-lived life as a human brought to an end by their own carelessness and comfort.

Aleksander turns to the man who is obviously the soldier’s leader, “Not her.” He says, “Please, not her, she isn’t apart of this- you don’t need her! I’m begging you-!”

And the soldier laughs, “Our orders were to bring you in. And you alone.”

“If you want our co-operation-”

“Not our orders.” The soldier repeats, and he glances at the other man, the one with his arm tightly around her throat.

It all happens so quickly. His knife is drawn, panic filling her eyes as she mouths the words I love you, a pit settling in both their guts. The blade shines in the twilight of the evening. The moment is slow, the drag of the knife across her throat, her eyes widening as she gargles, and the spilling of blood down her throat. Silvery blood, shiny and metallic, viscous and hot, which shimmers like the ocean in sunlight.

Aleksander can barely feel his hands, his legs, his face, for the pounding of his heart against his ribs, the lump bubbling in his throat. He is silently distraught.

The soldier sneers, “Still have a message for the king?” He taunts, holding his lover’s limp body, still twitching.

It isn’t long before the surrounding world is plunged into an irredeemable darkness.