#CC Camera Support

[pinnacleitsbd]

#Check out my services page for Laptop / Desktop Computer sales and service. Computer Repair #Data Recovery #Computer Networking #Office Networking #Network Support #Sarver & Security #CC Camera Support #Office/Home Service etc. All types of IT support we provide. #Support: 01924850985 (Whatsapp) #পিনাকল_আইটি_সলিউশন #Pinnacle_IT_Solutions #pinnacleits #mizanbd1166

[jedi-starbird]

Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic

They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.

It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.

Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.

I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.

Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.

When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!

Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.

Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.

A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.

The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.

"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.

When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.

What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.

OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.

#alpha obi wan and cody are so powerful together they could win the war or start an entirely new one. who knows :) #i fully think 17 awakens the feral cat part of obi wan thats been dormant since qui gon died and he had to become a responsible brotherdad #like at last someone to scruff him by the neck and call him stupid its very familiar to obi wan it brings back memories #fully on my 'obi wan has the weirdest relationship dynamics ever' agenda #obi wan is a lying liar who loves lying and the biggest lie is that he's the only normal well-adjusted one here. no. he is SO deeply strang #obi wan kenobi #star wars #alpha 17 #commander cody

[erasabledinosaur]

What's in my Game:

GRAPHIC TWEAKS

The Sims 3 GPU Add-on Support

Tweaked my GraphicRules.sgr Shadows Quality to 8k

Step 5 - Limiting FPS (Essential)

MODS:

NRAAS: Master Controller with MC Integration, Overwatch, Errortrap + Saver

simler90's Gameplay Core Mod WITH Nraas Overwatch Compatability File (found in step 4)

The Sims 3 Smooth Patch 1.2.1

[TS3] Catalog Search Mod

No Intro

No ''Mod Scripts Found''

No Drift/Lower Level Free Cam Camera Mod

Subtle Build Grid Active Level Only

Annoyances Disabler

No More Gloves with Outerwear Mod

Twoftmama Route Fix Flavor 3 v9

No (or fewer) automatic memories

xiasimla Higher Quality Default Replacements for TS3 Headline Effects

Sims 3 Decorating Tools mod (or S3DT)

Get to Know Fix+

Interaction on sloped terrain enabler

No Mutated Hair/Eye Colour

TWEAKS:

Welcome Matt Deshined Rug

University Life Alpha Omega Door Fix

No more ugly snowprints

Hanging Lantern Fix

Tileable Items Shader FIX

Base Game Halfwalls FIXED!!!

CAS:

CAS Monotone: additional colors + Replacement CAS for single color

CAS Sim Bin Genetics as Presets

40 New Face Presets (CC Slider Free)

NRAAS: MasterController ExpandedTattoo + cmar_XCAS_TattooLocations_V2.zip

DECOR + MORE

Sims 3 Hidden Stencils Unlocked

ISLA PARADISO

Reduce/Remove Lag caused by Houseboats

Isla Paradiso Fixed World by ellacharmed

EA DEFAULTS

SATELLITES - A SKINBLEND BY SIMAREX

cute feet for children and toddlers

Default Feet Replacement by Bloomsbase

missy harries Face Overlay Lips Lip Overlay Only

Default Replacement Wildflowers

[Chisami] BLUSH BABY (default) Baby Skin

oneeuromutt's maternity defaults

NOT QUITE EA DEFAULTS

Memories Mirror from Generations Default Replacement 4-in-1

Season’s wall hook de-starified

STORE ITEMS & COLLECTION FILES

Phantom__99 EA Store Content

Collection Icons and Files

Store Collection Filests

#ts3 #sims 3 #the sims 3 #simmer #ts3 simblr #sims 3 simblr #ts3 gameplay #sims 3 gameplay #ts3 screenshots #sims 3 screenshot #whats in my game #fresh save

[foreingersgod]

need need need something about Caitlin being obsessed with her girlfriend and talking about her non stop in interviews, insta ect

Obsessed . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin always finds a way to talk about you

A/N: NOT PROOF READ

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

1. interviews

it was the end of an amazing game, not just for iowa, but especially for caitlin. she hadn’t played a game that well in her entire career, scoring more than her average and making shots from deeper than ever before. she had everyone on their feet the entire night cheering for her as she completely annihilated the other team.

you were there to watch her, as you were every other game. watching caitlin play had to be one of your favorite, most rewarding things to watch as a girlfriend. she’s worked for hard for long and she was finally getting the recognition she deserves.

after the post-game excitement had worn off, the team prepared for the following interviews. typically, you didn’t stick around for them, opting to head home and wait for caitlin so you could congratulate her in your own special way. but with such an amazing game for caitlin, you decided to stick around and watch.

it was like she was a natural, surrounded by all the microphones and flashing cameras. she looked proud and confident, ready for any and all questions. they asked her the usual questions and she answered assertively. but one particular question caught your attention.

“the effort you’ve put into basketball has been apparent throughout your career, but your fans want to know more. who do you credit for keeping you so motivated and successful off the court?”

she bit back a smile, lip tugged between her teeth as she listened to the interviewer. caitlin looked out into the sea of people, eyes finding yours somewhere in the back before answering.

“yea, no there’s a lot of people i could think of that have been absolutely incredible,” she said “you know obviously my parents and bothers, my teammates and friends. they’ve all been really supportive of me. but i do also want to credit my girlfriend, YN. i mean she’s been there for me day after day, she’s really the reason i’m able to keep going and i definitely wouldn’t be where i’m at now if it weren’t for her. so yea, i have a truly amazing support group behind me, it’s wild.”

you couldn’t help but blush hearing her mention your name up there. she was so sweet and so modest when it came to things like this and she always made sure you knew how much she really needed you.

after the interview, she came up to you, sweaty and exhausted. a big goofy grin still glued to her face as she gravitated into you.

“i love you so much” she said to you “i meant what i said in there, i really don’t know what i’d do without you”

you pulled her into you tighter, so close you could feel her pulse as your lips met the back of her ear.

“i love you more”

2. social media

caitlin posted you on a regular basis at this point (and you posted her just as much). she was so whipped, always posting photos of you to her instagram to show you off.

caitlinclark22

♡ liked by its.yn, katemartin03, and 799,403 others

caitlinclark22 obsessed with you @its.yn

view all 25,234 comments

its.yn baby :’)

⤷ caitlinclark22 it’s true <3

gabbie.marshall my moms actually

ur.sister the cutest couple everrrr

user7838 brb crying right now

caitandynfan PARENTS

katemartin03 this is making me tear up i’ll be honest

⤷ its.yn stawppp

caitlinclark22

♡ liked by its.yn, caitlinfan180, and 876,221 more

caitlinclark22 i’m in love with you in every universe, happy anniversary @its.yn

view all 36,479 comments

its.yn i’m actually so in love with you it’s insane

bueckersgirl52 this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

jadagyamfi soulmates fr

ynsbiggestfan i love them guys omg

3. around your friends

she honestly didn’t even know she did it because if she did, it would be way worse. the amount of times you got brought up in conversation was starting to get a bit ridiculous. yours and caitlin’s friends love the both of you, thought you were perfect for each other, but if they had to hear ‘YN said’ or ‘you know what happened with YN the other day?’ one. more. time. they were gonna lose it.

caitlin just loved talking about you. she spent every waking moment with you anyways so it was especially hard to not bring up in some sort of way. she really couldn’t care if her friends got sick of it or not.

“hey caitlin” kate asked as the team sat around the living room of your apartment. caitlin had invited the girls over to chill for the night, catch up without the weight of basketball hanging over their shoulders “i had meant to ask how that new restaurant downtown was?”

“oh man it was awesome” she responded “if you get the chance, definitely go. the food was incredible, you know me and YN actually wen-”

“caitlin i love you, but i swear to god please spare us from whatever mushy gushy relationship stuff you’re about to tell us” hannah chimed in from the seat next to caitlin. the girls laughed, glad she spoke up before caitlin began rambling about you again.

“whatever, you guys are just jealous” she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving hannah’s shoulder.

she didn’t mind how the team grew tired of her rambling, she probably would be too if she were them. but you were the soul thing that occupied her mind and she wouldn’t give that up for anything.

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark oneshot #cc x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

[simdertalia]

🔮 Witchy Shop Decor Set 2 🔮

20 items | Sims 4, Base game compatible | Many swatches for multiple items

Set contains: -Tarot Box | 4 swatches | 311 poly -Tarot stacked | 2 swatches | 58 poly -Tarot spread (2 items: face up and face down) | 2 swatches each | 82 poly -Gem Bins | 4 swatches | 2,014 poly -Sticker Roll | 1 swatch (made to match the stickers on the bags from the first shop decor set) | 50 poly -Fairy Door | 10 swatches | 108 poly -Floating Frames (2 items: table and string versions) | 20 swatches | blanks included for recolors | 48 poly & 59 poly -Rugs | 3 swatches | 339 poly -Tray | 3 swatches | 1020 poly -Keepsake Jar (open & closed) | 7 swatches | 74 poly each -Intercom | 7 swatches | 472 poly -Breaker | 4 swatches | 308 poly -Extinguisher | 1 swatch | 1204 poly -Security Camera | 2 swatches | 1208 poly -Meteor Display | 4 swatches | 1286 poly -Nature Chimes | 2 swatches | 1212 poly -T-shirt Display | 6 swatches | blanks included for recolors | 792 poly

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): HERE> https://simfileshare.net/folder/185100/

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): HERE> https://mega.nz/folder/t9hC2JKT#eTeH0li3x3aq-qCK2BOO8w

📁 DL on Patreon

Will be public on April 8th, 2023

Update April 8th, 2023: The gem bins have been updated today to include all of the swatches from the gem piles TSM conversion in the first shop decor set.

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my sets will be early access from now on. If you like my work, please consider supporting me:

★ Patreon  🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi  ☕️  ❤️ ★ Instagram  📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️❤️❤️

@sssvitlanz​​  @maxismatchccworld​​ @mmoutfitters​​  @coffee-cc-finds​​  @itsjessicaccfinds​​  @gamommypeach​​  @stargazer-sims-finds​​  @khelga68​​  @suricringe​​  @vaporwavesims​​

Set 1 can be found HERE>

#sims 4 cc #ts4cc #s4cc #sims 4 witchy cc #sims 4 tarot #sims 4 photo clutter #sims 4 photo frame #sims 4 rug #sims 4 rugs #sims 4 fairy door #sims 4 jar #sims 4 electronics #sims 4 wind chimes #sims 4 nature decor #sims 4 object #sims 4 space #sims 4 crystals and minerals #sims 4 witchy shop #sims 4 crystal shop #sims 4 maxis match #simdertalia

[dyketubbo]

right. so considering how this person talked about things (using wilbur and george as main examples, even liking a tweet of someone pointing out the irony of one of wilburs songs saying not to trust british men, notably someone who immediately believed the allegations against tubbo) its incredibly likely that this was someone whos bitter about wilbur and/or george and wanted to discredit shubble and caiti (not to mention others like lexie and andi who have also come out with their stories) as "allegations with no evidence". notably they point out the AI not acting like a boy, but nothing about the story implies the victim is a boy, its the profile having a woman's name, and since their account existed before this i dont think they had chatgpt come up with their username for this.

shubble and caiti didnt have "no evidence". they both had friends who could corroborate their stories, and even people who previously associated with the creators were able to confirm things. shubble's story actively mentioned wilbur hurting her in front of their shared friends, other ccs had experience with him biting or otherwise being rough with them, several ccs admitted that he was a horrible person to them too, wilburs ant infestation was talked about before shubble mentioned it in her story, several of shubbles friends were aware of her experience before she talked about it publicly. caiti's story included something personal about george (the tickling kink) that only people who had experience with him knew about (from what i know), george has openly admitted to not caring about hurting his friends on camera, and others were able to confirm that george talked inappropriately about them as well. wilbur and george both actively responded to each story even without their names being said because the stories were familiar enough to them that they didnt need to be said. they knew it was about them just based on what the victims said they were like.

its extremely fucked up to make a social experiment out of all of this, and i dont think it was really a social experiment out of any sort of academic interest in the first place. its a fake story made up to make actual victims seem unreasonable and dumb for coming out and being believed based on what this person believed was word alone. the very fact that they either didnt notice or just left in the obvious contradictions with the set up (accusing a gay man who cant drive of assaulting a girl while driving her home from a party in the pandemic, which he didnt leave his house during) actively shows that they believe the actual victims' stories are as "dumb" as this and genuinely believed that they didnt have actual weight to them. they truly did think there was "no evidence", that people were just spreading around baseless stories and taking them at face value, that no one even thought of innocent before guilty.

the only people who need to learn are the ones behind this story. but if there is anything to learn about on others ends, its to be aware of people like this who will discredit the victims' and accuse their stories of being dumb and lacking evidence, who will defend abusers with "innocent until proven guilty" while also targeting actual innocents. have actual victims in your heart and mind and dont let shit like this deter you from what actually matters: continuing to support real victims and paying attention to the issues that they bring up about misogyny, abuse of power, and the dangerous culture surrounding how victims are treated in this community by diehard fans of their abusers. this fake story and the mindset of the people behind it only shows just how far some people will go to try and discredit and downplay what shubble speaking up has started to do for this community

#mask mews #sorry to type so much but christ this response pissed me off #fuck do you mean 'social experiment' im going to experiment on you

[simmervlogs]

Elmwood Heights

Hello Simmers, welcome to the Elmwood Heights. A 4 bedroom family residence in Del Sol Valley.

This property is the pinnacle of luxury living, offering breathtaking city, canyon, and mountain vistas. Nestled at the end of a long private drive, this home ensures maximum privacy and prime security with cameras and a gated entrance. Upon arrival, you're greeted by a lavish motor court leading to timeless modern architecture. Outdoor amenities include a wrap around pool, lush gardens, natural ponds, an outdoor living and kitchen area with a fire pit. This compound exudes never before seen opulence. Inside this substantial two-story gem, you'll find 4 bedrooms, 2 and a half bathrooms, office, bar, spacious pantry and state of the art garage. Featured within this modern masterpiece, includes, a gourmet kitchen, and an interior courtyard. The decadent pool feature coupled with the fire pit, compliment the majestic panoramic views and achieve the luxurious atmosphere. This hilltop property is a breathtaking private oasis offering the ultimate luxury lifestyle of elegance and solitude to raise your family in.

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Laundry day (Washing machine, dryer, hamper) Spa Day (yoga mats) required for function.

Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders too for convenience.

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Del Sol Valley 64x64 lot (2.2mill)

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Patreon)

#sims 4 poses #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4cc #simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 cc #sims4 #the sims 4 cc #sims 4 cas #the sims cc #maxis match #maxis match cc #sims4cc #sims 4 maxis cc #ts4 maxis match #sims 4 download #sims 4 custom content #ts4 gameplay #ts4 simblr #mybuilds #sims 4 gameplay #Youtube #sims 4 lookbook #ts4aesthetic #cc build #patreon #sims 4 builds #sims 4 cc build

[dilfhos]

PART ONE.

#!WHO; Sukuna the demon ft. GOJO.

#!CC: deadoves! no warning. MDNI. [read the tags on original knktbr fic. this is still dc.]

note: soo, ive been craddlin’ this baby since 2019, only recently deciding to add Sukuna and Gojo. very begrudgingly posting it here, however i will not be updating if this flops. ik how tumblr is with long fics/series—unfair. so if you’re interested lmk or else you can read on my ao3 !!

You arrive at the old Kaisen house, adoring the scene. The demon sets his sights on you.

WC. 3.8k+

[I.] [II] [III.] | KINKTOBER ‘23 | plz reblog if you enjoyed, id love to reach an audience!

“We’re here,” Your eyes fluttered open, the sun rays spilling into your vision as you stirred awake. Beside you was your best-friend, Gojo Satoru, sitting back, his hand tugging at the hem of his damp shirt. You looked over at him then forward through the front window, met with an old gate. Behind it was the house, large in stature and almost intimidating as it stood in front of the afternoon sun, casting long shadows along the lawn.

“Looks like the gate is—”

“I got it!” You interrupted eagerly, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaping out the car. You made your way towards the gate, unlatching the metal and pushing it open. You then stood, admiring the house further.

It was a beautiful old giant, its Victorian style exterior being the highlight of it all. You glanced around you, noticing how the rest of the street seemed almost separated from your patchy plot of land. As if the neighboring houses were trying to get away. Segregated from the quaint smaller houses filled with decored and neat lawns, was your new home.

You made a motion towards the car, prompting Satoru to reach and grab the bag that held your prized item. You took your camera and eagerly paced back and forth near the entrance until you found a good spot to take a photo.

Yeah, there would be plenty of pictures in the future. The house was even more beautiful through the lens as you snapped a couple. In front of the house to the left was a large tree, nearly scarce of green leaves as it added more touch of age to the scene.

“How long are you going to be out there?” Satoru called, an arm draped over the open window. You could hear a tinge impatience in his tone but you didn’t move yet.

“Sorry! I’m coming!”

He sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest, fingers strumming against the wheel. A thin coat of sweat beaded along his skin, slicking his white locks down against his forehead.

This house really gave him the creeps. He understood you wanted to get away from everything but he didn’t think it would go this way.

A couple months ago, he had visited you in the city and was surprised by the fact that you were wanting to move out. Not just out of the apartment but out of the entire area. You told him you wanted a change in pace, in scenery. To quit your current job for the time being and just be at peace. He honestly thought you were out of your mind but after coming to terms with how that life was treating you, he supported the decision. He was your best friend, he would always support your decisions, even the…bold ones.

His eyes scanned the surroundings.

This part of town was quietly tucked in the country and had plenty of beautiful places to photograph and “run through fields” as he put it. Given the little population and even fewer vacancies, there weren't any options to live except for the old manor a little bit on the edge of town.

Being protective, Satoru didn’t waste time in Shadowvale’s research and made privy to the stories but he didn’t believe them. It was just a silly ghost legend made up by the oldheads to spook outsiders and the younger generations. But it didn’t stop him from telling you about them.

Being much like your friend to find the story silly, you laughed it off, ecstatic that you would finally be moving. And he wasn’t that far of a drive from you so he supposed it was fine.

Satoru watched as you finally circled back to the passenger side, eyes down on the camera screen. You got in, sighing at the gust of cool air. The car began moving again as it crept forward past the gate and along the dirt path that led up to the large house.

“Get any good shots?”

“Yes! It’s more beautiful through the lens than in person. And the way the light was hitting it…” Satoru smiled as he listened to you excitedly fill him in as if he could understand a half of what you were talking about.

. . .

“What is in here? ” Satoro croaked, nearly collapsing on the porch. He had one of your boxes in his arms, stumbling toward the door. Following close behind him was you with another box. You rested a foot upon the first step of the porch, ignoring the stressed creak it brought.

“Just clothes?” You honestly didn’t know. It could have been anything really and as far as you knew, it wasn’t even heavy. He probably just wanted something to complain about.

“They feel like bowling balls,” He sat the box down in the foyer, swiping at sweat that began to bead down his temple. You rolled your eyes as you followed behind him placing the box on top.

The sky was beginning to darken, more clouds obscuring the afternoon sky. Shadows seemed to appear in the dimness, warping spindly shapes across the lawn. The thicker clouds that seemed to come out of nowhere loomed over the countryside with promises of rain in the night.

You shivered, arms pricking in goosebumps as you crossed the threshold, placing down another box. It seemed so cold all of a sudden, a stark contrast to how it was nearly an hour ago when your clothes were practically melting against your skin. You jumped when you felt a firm hand grip your shoulder.

“Woah, jumpy already?” Satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “If you’re gonna chicken out, tell me now so I won’t have to load the rest.”

“You’re just trying to get out of work, Gojo,” You playfully shoved his arm and made your way back to the car. The only thing that remained was your television, propped up at an odd angle because of its large size. The trek to the house was awkward with the screen nearly bigger than you, but you made it, sitting the appliance against the wall of the foyer.

At least the chill was gone, after having broken another sweat. You watched from the doorway as Satoru closed all of the doors. Once more, your eyes ventured up towards the sky, another shiver running down your spine.

“You okay?” He questioned, making his way towards the door. You nodded, stepping back to allow him inside before closing the door.

Sukuna’s canines were made visible as his malicious grin widened, stretching inhumanly against his face. Raven spikes jutted out every which way, a part only tamed enough to fall before his striking crimson eyes as he looked over the railing of the staircase. He ran a clawed finger teasingly over the wood, always touching but never feeling.

The demon licked his lips slowly, his intense gaze catching you and the way you ran your hands along your arms in the foyer. His claws began to strum lightly against the wood as he continued to watch you with focus.

You walked further into the house, in awe at how spacious the interior was. To your right was a winding staircase, leading up to what looked to be a balcony. Unaware of the demonic presence, your eyes linger in the place he stood before moving on to your left.

The foyer spilled into a wide den, already furnished with a couch and a couple love chairs covered in plastic. The plastic crinkled under your touch as your fingertips ran along the surface of the couch, seeking out small holes and other old looking stains.

Everything had an antiquated touch to it and you wondered how long the house had been standing, abandoned by its previous owners.

Your eyes wandered to the fireplace on the far end of the living room. The entrance was gated with a rusting metal. You squatted down, fingers running along the rough bricks. Frowning at the dust that gathered on your skin, you straightened, rubbing your hands against your jeans.

From the balcony, the demon had the perfect view of you. So curious, eyes darting around only to pause and inspect something of little significance just for you to do it all again. He watched as you made a circle around the den, studying everything your greedy eyes took in as if the sight were new.

“Gojo?” You called, making your way back towards the boxes.

Was that what the other one was called? Frankly, he couldn’t bother to care as he’d already signed off on him. He’d make a decent meal though.

“Yeah!” Satoru responded from the kitchen. You peered in that direction for a few seconds waiting for him to emerge. Rolling your eyes, your attention returned to the box you were squatted in front of.

“Don’t go running off. You still have to help me,” You whined, hands rummaging through the cardboard. Empty handed, you flipped over the flaps to a nearby box, doing the same thing.

“This sink doesn’t work! It's like… stuck or something,”

“Just leave it before you break it more. I’ll call someone tomorrow.” You shouted, standing up. You sighed, stretching as your little fingers wiggled upwards. Sukuna watched unmoving as you stretched, eyeing a brief sight of your tummy.

Those were a lot of boxes. Not the occasional suitcase or makeshift plastic bags he usually saw with squatters.

So you were moving in. He chuckled darkly.

He actually couldn’t determine if you were stubborn or just plain stupid. You probably thought that nothing existed beyond your little mortal realm, that no outworldly dangers could harm you.

The small chuckle developed into a much throatier laugh, the noise disappearing into nothing. He was about to disappear before his attention snapped back towards you, his hands gripping the peeling wood of the banister almost painfully as he leant over the bar.

You had gasped, his ears picking up on the familiarity of sound, quickly identifying it as surprise. Fear? Sukuna watched in intrigue as your eyes darted around for the source, only briefly ghosting over the place he stood. He remained frozen, holding his breath as you looked right through him.

You could’ve sworn you heard laughter. The floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you walked around, trying to strain your ear for whatever you heard.

“Toru?” Maybe he was on the phone or something.

Unfortunately for you, that second was all it took for the demon to be immediately interested in you.

For decades, he remained rooted to this cursed plot after his grisly death with the inability to be seen, felt, and most definitely heard. He only controlled the physical realm which made for a lot of entertaining nights for whoever dared to trespass. Not to mention he was granted his demonic familiars. They had no intelligence but it kept him company, he supposed. Less lonely being evil if he’s surrounded by the very essence.

But something about that little gasp as if you heard something illogical... It made him lick his lips, something dark and enticing settling into the pit of his stomach. His mind was racing with new fun and exciting things he wanted to do with this information.

Satoru finally emerged from the kitchen, his shirt spotted in darkness, hair dripping in water. You took one look at his disgruntled form and bursted out laughing, immediately forgetting about the noise you heard.

“Its funny that your new sink is janked up?”

“Janked up?” His seriousness only made it funnier. He sucked his teeth and made his way towards the boxes, hastily searching for a towel.

“What were you...even doing...in there?” You said in between giggles. He only ignored you as you wiped away the wetness that gathered in your eyes.

“Are you done?” He deadpanned. You nodded with a smile. He only scoffed before he started to bring out contents from one of the boxes. You then took your place next to him, sorting through the items.

“Hey, what was funny earlier?” You cut through the silence.

“What do you mean?” He crinkled his forehead.

“You were laughing at something. Did Suguru send a dumb meme or something?” You giggled. Your face only fell at his response.

“I wasn’t laughing and I haven’t spoken to him since last Tuesday.”

Little words were exchanged as he helped you unpack. He was probably still upset. After a while, you grew bored and wanted to venture around. Even though you’d already seen the house on the tour, you were itching to do something. Standing up, you brushed off your hands, attention venturing to the staircase balcony.

“Hey, I’m gonna go check out the rooms upstairs,” A simple grunt was made as Satoru looked towards you.

“I’m not getting paid to do this!” He shouted as you began your trek. You smiled, calling back, “The unwavering devotion to the best friend in the entire world should be enough to start right?”

Upon going up, you felt a weird chill and found yourself turning towards the wall. You paused midway, eyeing the surface where you saw what was assumed to be a large painting or portrait.

You couldn’t really tell with the dingy cloth that covered it. Your fingers itched to tear away the cloth to reveal what was underneath but you didn’t. This was just one of the many things left behind by the last owners and you felt if you did, it'd somehow be disrespectful. You should call the realtor to inquire about possibly having some of the stuff taken out of the house.

“Hey, I’m going to step out for a bit, I need some air,” Satoru called from the doorway, suddenly feeling nauseous. You leaned over the wooden balcony, amazed at how high you were. After waving him off, he walked out, the door creaking shut behind him and you turned, facing the hallway.

The way you stood there was kind of enticing, especially with the way your eyes darted around with that same greedy look he noticed before. But something else was mixed with it, Sukuna noticed.

Unease.

He could sense it in the way you tensely rocked on the balls of your feet, looking between the few rooms that lined the dark hallway. Sukuna stood at the very end on the hall, leaning against the peeling door with arms crossed, watching for your next move. He really wanted you to walk his way so he could get a taste of that nerve-racked aura but much to his dissatisfaction, you chose the first room on the left.

It was fine, he could be patient. He only had the rest of his eternal death.

With a menacing grin, his form shivered, bending into the light until he was gone.

. . .

Even though you’d seen the rooms on the tour, viewing them again took your breath away once more in how spacious it was. Every part of the house exuded mystery and refinement. The bathrooms had surprised you the most; one being nearly as big as the bedroom, having room for a large claw-footed bathtub, a shower, plus two sinks. Giving one last look, you decided that it did pair nicely with the room attached. As expected, the large king-sized bed was still there, neatly made. Deciding to exit out the bedroom, you made your way toward the door.

“What the…” You tried the knob, jerking the brass but it was stuck. You tried once more, taking the handle between both hands and jiggling it as hard as you could.

You could see the wooden door moving against the frame but it wouldn’t open. This didn't happen on the tour. You stepped back, deciding to go through the other way but stopped in the middle of the bathroom, an eyebrow lifted in confusion.

Did you close the door behind you?

It was shut just like the other. No...you didn’t think you did. You moved towards the door turning the handle.

It was stuck too.

“Gojo?” You called, gripping the doorknob. Was he messing with you? You pulled and pushed with more force now, pacing to the other door to be met with the same result. Your stomach churned thickly as your skin began to prickle with heat.

“Gojo, open the door! This isn’t funny!” You called slapping your palm against the wood. You were beginning to grow frantic until finally, the door gave way.

Stumbling forward, you immediately gag at the sour odor that hit your nose. It smelled rotten and it caused you to cover your face with your arm.

But the odor was immediately forgotten when your eyes settled on the sight of the last room. You moved to the large rectangular window across the way, the sides framed by flowing curtains. It ran from the edge of the ceiling, stopping just above the hardwood floors.

The view outside was just as breathtaking as the first time, spreading over the fields of the rural side. You could see some houses peppering the golden hills of early autumn land.

“Wow,” You whispered, moving around the room. There was a queen-sized bed on one side, neatly made in a similar fashion as the one in the other room. Against the other wall was a desk.

You fell back onto the bed, breathing in deeply despite the rank smell. You loved it, everything from the antiquated vibes to even the apparently faulty doors.

You felt really at home, a feeling you haven’t had since your life in the city. You laid there, basking in the final fleeting heat rays of the setting sun until you suddenly tensed, eyes snapping open. Hairs stood up on your skin, making you shiver slightly.

That same chill.

Sitting up, your eyes scanned the empty bedroom. The shadows shifted in the corner, tricking your peripheral into moving your full attention in the area. Getting up, you moved over to the opposite side, running your fingertips along the smooth walls. It was just a simple corner, void of that special something. That something that you decided you were definitely going to set up as your photography corner. You smiled, trying to think of that instead of the foreboding unease that just wouldn’t leave you alone.

From behind you, Sukuna stood close, clawed hands reaching out to trace the outline of the nervous aura that you emitted despite your exterior calmness. When he brushed your neck, you jumped, whipping around, eyes wide.

Nothing.

But it was most definitely something, you rubbed the back of your neck, eyes darting around until you decided it was just a draft. Your walk toward the door was brisk though and if he'd known better, it almost seemed like you were in a hurry, as if you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The door creaked shut behind you.

. . .

“Have fun exploring?” Satoru asked as you bounded down the stairs, not even looking up from his phone. He decided not to tell you about the sudden sickness that overpowered him earlier instead deciding your bliss was something he didn’t want to ruin.

You nodded, expressing your excitement for the way you were going to set up your hobby station. You looked on the coffee table to see a box labeled Photography, in his sloppy scribble. Satoru looked up, catching your gaze.

“Before I go, I wanna get a picture of us,” When you raised a brow, he smiled before continuing.

“In your new pad. It’d be the first picture you take since the city and y’know, since I did most of the grunt work its the least I’m owed. Besides, by the time you get settled in, there’ll be photos scattered everywhere by next week,” You both laughed.

“Sure thing Toru,”

Another hour had passed after some coaxing to help you actually settle in. Satoru helped you place them where they belonged. Bags of cutlery, pots, pans and other kitchen ware were all sat upon the glass table in the dining room. You forgot how beautiful this area was, spacious and home-y for meal nights, which you were looking forward to. It was separated by an island, the other side made as a kitchen.

Your photography stuff and your clothing were taken upstairs to the room where it was placed on the desk.

“Isn’t this room amazing?” You beamed, arms spread wide as you stood in the center. Satoru stood in the doorway, looking everything but impressed. Something about the space bothered him, yet he couldn’t determine why. For you though, he smiled genuinely.

“Yeah, I think it it was made just for you,”

By the time you were done, exhaustion was heavy on you both. By now, the promised photo was long forgotten and you were on your porch, clinging onto your best friend in a tight embrace.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” He smiled, shaking his head as he once more expressed how early he had to be up for work. It was lucky he was in only the next town over, but it didn’t ease the lonely pit in your stomach as you watched him get into his car.

As Satoru drove away, his eyes glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as you waved him off. His attention wasn’t on you though, but on the looming presence of the house seeming to swallow your body.

DILFOS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna ryoumen x you #satoru gojo x reader #kinktober23 #multi fic #[ output—☆ ] #[ deadoves— ☆]

[marriedtomoneymartin]

could you write something about meeting Caitlin in freshman year of high school and ur families being so close and becoming high school sweethearts and also going to the same college and dating, like she's obsessed with you and talks about you all the time

high school sweethearts

caitlin clark x fem!reader girlfriend

warnings: none! just fluff!

summary: it’s you and caitlins anniversary and she wants everyone to know!

you and caitlin had known each other since freshman year, and had been dating since sophomore year of high school. and you two didnt plan on changing that anytime soon. your families quickly became close when you moved to iowa the summer of 9th grade, and it grew from there.

today was your guys’s 7th year anniversary. it sounded crazy when you thought about it. 7 years of pure love and support from caitlin, and it had been some of the best years of your life. you had just finished shopping for a surprise for caitlin that she would see later and decided to head home so you could start getting ready for you two’s dinner reservation. you walked out the store when you received a call from gabby.

“hi gabs” you said answering.

“hi, happy anniversary.” she said. after she said that, kate and jada appeared in the camera and said the same thing.

“thank you. how did you guys know that it’s our anniversary?” you said opening your car door and looking back at the phone.

“because your girlfriend wont shut up about it.” gabby said and you giggled. “‘y/n this’, ‘y/n that’. ‘did you say happy anniversary to y/n yet?’ ‘did you know its our 7th year anniversary? how amazing is that? almost as amazing as her’ all practice” kate and jada said imitating caitlin as you laughed at the girls.

“well thank you” you smiled at the camera. “im gonna go but thank you again and tell cc that she should shut up, from me”

“oh absolutely. bye bye mama” gabby said and hung up.

an hour or so later, you were sitting at your vanity doing your hair when you heard caitlin walk in through the door of your shared apartment.

“im home, baby” she called out from the living room. she walked in your bedroom and smiled when she saw you. she walked over to you and kissed your cheek. “i missed you” she said wrapping her arms around you and resting her head on your shoulder.

you smiled “i heard. you’re stinky go shower” you said to her and she put a hand on her chest and gasped exasperated like. you giggled as she kept her mouth open.

“im deeply offended” she said and walked to the bathroom with her arms crossed.

after you finished getting ready. you walked out to the living room where caitlin was waiting. she turned to look at you as you came out and grinned.

“you look incredible, baby. that’s an understatement. you look.. wow.” she said standing up and putting her arms around your waist. you smiled.

“you dont look to bad yourself” you said and she chuckled.

“i try” she smiled and placed a quick kiss on your lips. “you ready to go?” she asked and you nodded.

a/n:

first post!! thank you anon for requesting! this was really fun to write.

#caitlin clark #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #melanie martinez

[cherrynwinesk]

hiii, could you do cuddling headcanons with spreen? tyyy in advance☺️ and i love your work!

🍒: Thank u, you so sweet!

Cuddling Headcanon's ~ Spreen

Story g: sfw/soft

Language: English/Inglés

⚠️: None

CC's: Spreen

Reader g: Neutral reader

📝: All the content is fictitious and an attempt is made to adapt the PUBLIC personality of the cc's, that is, the personality that is shown in front of cameras, I do not know the true personality and any resemblance to reality is mere coincidence.

🍒: Hello, writing requests are always open, if you want something in particular, ask without fear. I clarify that English is not my main language, I apologize for any error and accept corrections to improve the quality of the content

Master List

•Although Spreen appears to be a cold and distant person, he is not in reality.

•Spreen is known to prioritize his work

•But he will not leave you aside because you are just as important.

• You would be his “emotional support pet” when he works.

• Your presence would relax him and his stress would decrease

•So when he's working on his set up he brings you with him

•He would make you sit on him and bring a blanket to cover both of you.

•As you know, his setup has many monitors

•So while he works on the central monitor, he would give you one of his monitors so you don't get bored

•So you would be lying on his chest, with your legs on the back of his gaming chair watching your favorite movie.

•Spreen would put his arms around you while he works on a video for YouTube

•Spreen would get distracted by the movie at times, laughing a little at the situation on the monitor

• He would tuck you in if he sees the blanket slipping down.

•He would also come down to kiss the top of your head from time to time

• Or he would take you by the chin to raise your gaze and kiss you briefly on the lips.

• He would take a break because his eyes are tired and this time he would hug you completely, gently caressing your cheek while watching the movie.

#spreendmc #spreen #spreen x reader #qsmp #qsmp spreen #gn reader #sfw blog #fem reader #male reader #mcyt x y/n #mcytblr #mcyt #x reader #sfw little community

[witch-and-her-witcher]

nessriel | E | hurt/comfort, modern AU - magic/CC inspired

Aux officer Cassian brings a stray home with him and he doesn't want to let her go. Lieutenant Azriel, and his life partner, thinks he has a bleeding heart and an undiagnosed mental health condition - until he meets Nesta Archeron for himself, sweating and vomiting through a self-led alcohol detox, and decides ... yeah, they should keep her. Nesta is at an all-time low, all her bridges burned, but she's going to pull herself together and try to keep her mess from spilling into these ridiculously gorgeous, kind-hearted Auxie's lives.

ao3

(Thank you @popjunkie42 and @thesistersarcheron for the support read throughs!)

For Day One: Beginnings of @polyacotarweek!

Chapters 1-3/9

Preview Below

~*~

Everything fucking hurts: Cassian’s knees are jammed up, his spine crackles along each vertebra, his balls feel like tenderized meat, and his godsdamn shoulder. Ripped out of the socket by a feral leopard shifter, high on pixie dust.

As if the hit that knocked him off of his feet wasn’t bad enough, the amount of paperwork he’d had to fill out because of the right hook he’d landed out of self-defense driven instinct afterwards was even more painful.

Cassian can feel the impact from his wing meeting with the concrete just as much as the strain in his neck from standing bent over the counter at the Aux. 

Like the asshole knew how low tech they are.

“Mother fucker,” he mutters, slamming the unit door shut behind him. 

He waits to hear the double beep of the lock before shoving the keys in his black jean’s front pocket and shuffling for the stairs to his apartment.

All Cassian wants is to get out of this fucking oppressive bullet-proof vest, kick off his boots, strip off his pants and sprawl on the couch with one hand down the front of his briefs and the other holding a cold beer. Put a game on. Maybe mess around with Az by sending him some dirty pictures.

An image of high cheekbones splattered with a dark flush, hot to the touch, flashes in his mind. Pupils blown wide and hand covering that seductive mouth to hide embarrassment.

Yeah, thinking about the pretty blush that will spread over his partner’s face? The way Az will jerk his head up to make sure no one saw … and then sneak another peek, maybe find an unoccupied room that doesn’t have cameras in it for some privacy?

Cassian grins wickedly.

He will definitely send dirty pictures.

Maybe after a beer or two, his shoulder won’t hurt so bad either and he can send a video tease. Get Az all worked up so he comes home in the morning ravenous, like a male possessed, ready to put Cass in his place for winding him up so tight —

A loud clatter right as Cassian rounds the stairwell to head up to the second floor cuts off his train of thought.

Engrained Aux training makes him hesitate.

Voices rise up behind the closest door.

Shit.

Apartment 132. A real sleazebag.

“— I’m a dirty whore? Yeah? Have you seen your fucking bed sheets?” A female’s voice becomes clear, growing louder along with heavy, slightly muffled footsteps on a carpeted floor. Drawing closer. “Learn how to do the laundry, you infantile asshole!” 

The doorknob jiggles a few times along with a few incoherent curses before the door is wrenched open. Unsure what kind of scene is about to spill into the bottom floor of his apartment complex, Cassian holds still aside from his hand edging closer to his holster.

The female has her back to him, still yelling into the apartment with her middle finger in the air. “Your cleaning skills match the size of your cock, unsatisfact- ow!” 

Cassian is braced for the collision course, but the female hasn’t been paying attention to anything but lobbing insults at the vampire arguing back half-heartedly from somewhere deeper in the apartment. She jumps as her bare shoulders connect with the kevlar covered metal plate on Cassian’s chest.

She whips around, hellfire seething from her. “Watch where the fuck you’re —”

The words die on her lips as she cranks her head up: taking in the uniform, the badge, the fucking Aux uniform aviator sunglasses perched on the bridge of Cass’s crooked nose.

With his polished talons gleaming two feet higher than his nearly six-and-a-half-foot height, he knows he looks intimidating as hell.

Her gaze lingers on the breadth of his shoulders, the swell of his biceps under his shirt sleeves, the thick column of his neck.

Cassian also knows he looks fit as hell.

“Shit,” she curses, but it’s breathy enough to sound unintentional. 

The vampire is quicker than a whip, tossing a purse onto the concrete and slamming his door shut. The contents spill out of the purse because he hasn’t bothered to close it: chapstick, a pack of gum, various IDs and brightly packaged condoms ‘ribbed for her pleasure.’

Sleazebag.

The purple-colored veteran Aux ID in the discarded pile catches his attention, but Cassian doesn't give away his recognition.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks, cocking one brow up.

The hallway is open-air, but it does nothing to reduce the scent of chain-smoked cigarettes and strong alcohol coming off of the female.

The drop-dead gorgeous female.

read more

#poly+acotarweek2024 #nessriel #cazriel #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing #nesta x cassian x azriel

[codgod-moved]

very proud of dream but these 3 rlly need to learn to look at the camera, not the screen

edit [17/10/22] i no longer support cc!dream, my art of him is staying up purely because i still like the art itself and don’t want to delete it

#dream.archive

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

like, genuinely. taking accountability for your actions in perpetuation of abuse and rape culture is the first step to changing that culture. it doesn’t make you a bad person just because you did a bad thing (unless you were intentionally trying to cause harm) but you have to admit you are not immune to accidentally supporting the bad thing and take accountability for that. if you supported george's statements on sexual harassment, or dream's sexual jokes towards minors, or sapnap getting paid money to stream on a platform which openly harbours rapists and sex abusers, you've been a part of keeping the environment that makes it hard for victims to have come out. if you started believing in anti-victim sentiments and harassed other abuse victims for talking about how it made them uncomfortable, you’ve supported this environment. if you assumed anyone uncomfortable with your streamer or trying to talk out against them was inherently lying solely because it was your streamer, you helped support an enviroment that fostered abusers.

and that sounds harsh, and I’m sorry. but it’s true. and to a degree, I think everyone in this community has done that with people at one point in their lives. it's very easy to be manipulated, but it’s also very easy to be wilfully blind, and that’s not something irredeemable or a permanent stain. you can change, but you need to identify in yourself what caused you to act like that and make a conscious change. it’s healthier for you and it’s healthier for the environment. if we want to avoid this in the future, we need to be proactive in calling out actual potentially harmful behaviour, even if it’s from someone you like. or we will continue to harbour mass amount of abusers.

most content creators are not abusers. most, to be honest, are awkward introverted nerds with social anxiety. at least, that’s what i've got from the ones my brother knows (and that includes some big ccs). but while they’re a huge part of it bc being in front of a camera instead of people is a huge draw, there’s another draw that attracts a less savoury crowd- and that’s the position of power. and unless you’re willing to listen and be kind to genuine, serious criticism of harmful actions, and ccs are willing to do the same, abuse and sexual assault WILL continue to be normalised in these spaces. it is not your sole responsibility, but it IS a responsibility to make sure to avoid that now you know the possibilities aggressively attacking any criticism can hide. caiti had to deal with people with her abusers face threaten her for speaking negatively towards him. do not let that happen again.

#obviously not every dteam stan or member of dtblr knew #you aren’t accountable if you genuinely didn’t know about any of these things or did try and speak out about them #but the amount of people I’ve seen who posted abuse apologism acting like there was nothing they could have done and like. #I’m sorry. I sympathise with you but there was something you could have done #And that was not leap on anyone who said anything slightly negative about dream george or Sapnap #this isn’t like wilbur who didn’t have widespread criticism for stuff like this #at least to my knowledge- it very much seems like he made sure to have any of that show in ways that were easy to write off as bits #but these. aren’t. these aren’t bits these were things that these people did in serious situations. #Punz too I guess but idk if anyone did that with him #this isn’t drama this isn’t discourse this is real peoples lives. don’t treat them like blorbo in your shows.

[carpedzem]

i feel like i’m being forced to parent a child with the way ccs are acting. like why do we have to tell you how to be an adult ? why do we have to be the ones to tell you how to communicate?

the worst part of it is that later they will look into camera and say "you dont know them. dont trust them. they are not youre friends" like im not a child its my choice who to support. its always either acting like a child ot treating us like a child

#nonny #discourse

[inkformyblood]

i lose all but not him #4 (Codywan)

Written with CWW Prompt "This isn't what I signed up for" Ao3 link

Nowhere is ever truly quiet on a ship.

Cody waits for the medbay door to hiss closed behind him, the tang of bacta heavy on his tongue, before he turns away from the route to his quarters, heading for the training rooms. His thoughts crackle and pace, pressing against the steel walls of his mind and he can’t tell if they’re his own or emanating from the hollow that isn’t him but sits and watches regardless. His dreams have been heavier, forgotten the instant he wakes but something from them clings to him regardless, the claws burning pinpricks into his shoulders. 

Back on Kamino, there had been a small crowd on one of the lower bays, hidden enough from the watchful cameras that different command groups could mix. Cody remembers a hand in his, Fox’s maybe or it could have been Rex, except the hair had been dark like his own, close-cropped and matching in every way. They’d been important to him, somehow, but the reason slips away from him, pulled away by a cloaked hand.

Answer: they’re not important. Focus on the mission.

The mission. What is his mission? On Kamino, Cody remembers stepping closer, saltwater clinging to his boots, wind cutting through his blacks, and there had been a body. His memory is fluid, stuttering and scrambling like he’s trying to tune a holovid to the correct frequency, the limbs changing from scales to skin, pale and dotted with freckles, fins fluttering to soaked red hair and back again. Cody blinks, breathes, and tugs on the threads of thoughts that aren’t his, reaching out and leaning against a support that he knows is rotting beneath his grasp but he can’t not. He’s no different to the fish that lies in front of him in his memory, choking down the hook that would eventually kill him. 

There had been a parasite on the fish’s tongue. 

No. It had been the fish’s tongue.

Legs had prised the mouth open from the inside, a head extending out, jaws clicking together and Cody had let go, reaching for his blaster instead because— because—

Answer: The mission. Focus Commander. You’re a good solider. 

He is. He was. He will be. 

CC-2224 straightens, his spine locking into place, and he reaches for his blaster.

Cody steps forward, catching himself on the exposed hollow of a pipe before he pitches forward. He swallows, teeth clenched and jaw locked, swallows again and again because they don’t have the rations spare for him to throw up resources, he’s a solider, he’s made for this. The moment passes with a shudder, nails raking down his spine and counting every divot, searching for the imperfection that would break him and coming up empty. For now. 

Where had he been going? His memory is… not blank. Blank implies there had been something there that had been removed, a space where something had been that he could worry at until the scar bled and he knew the rough shape of it beneath his fingers. His memory of the last few moments never existed, a vidfeed set to not record, and it isn’t right.

Answer: you were going to the training room.

Cody starts walking to the training room. He had always been heading there, had stepped straight out of the medbay and turned down the corridor and hadn’t paused, hadn’t faltered. He passes by a huddled group of troopers, tucked into the carved out patch in the corridor. One of the troopers is stripped to his waist, his armour clutched in the arms of his brothers and one of them holds his helmet balanced on his hip, the visor focused out along the corridor in an ineffectual sentry. Cody doesn’t pause, keeps his gaze focused on his destination because if he doesn’t see it, then it isn’t his problem or his issue to write up in a report. He catches the network of scars over the other clone’s belly, the flat surface as pitted and ragged as the battlefield they had just emerged from. Contrasted against his skin, however, is a splash of colourful ink, the shape too abstract for Cody to make out out of the corner of his eye but it is bright and vibrant and everything they hadn’t been allowed to have and now grabbed on with both hands. 

It’s such a shame it would be changing soon. Black is traditional, after all. 

Wait. What?

 It doesn’t matter. It matters so much because that wasn’t his thought, isn’t him and there’s something just beneath the surface, something rotting in his mind and he has never been more scared about anything because death is just him, this is so much more and— it doesn’t matter. It. Doesn’t. Matter. 

It doesn’t matter.

The training room is expansive, carved deep into the belly of the ship when it had become clear that the war would be a slow and lumbering thing, not the flashfire that some of the politicians had hoped for in their cozy plush offices with their unconcerned drinks hovering next to their elbows. Fox hadn’t admitted to spitting in some of them, there were too many official channels between Cody and him now to whisper together while they waited in line, both alone and gravitating towards each other like two shattered planets in a decaying orbit, but he knows Fox. He knows what the slight pause between his sentences mean, the silence louder than anything he might have said openly. It isn’t the same as his communication with Rex, that is louder, brighter somehow. If Rex is a note folded into a palm and flicked over the length of a table then Fox is a drop-spot in a park that is unceremoniously blown up a few hours after use.

There is always a few troopers in attendance, somedays it felt like Cody would open a drawer and a trooper would tumble out of it following a handful of brother’s tendencies to sleep inside storage crates even back on Kamino, but Obi-Wan is a rarer sight to see. Cody doesn’t pause in the doorway, reassessing, recaluculating, adapting to the situation before his foot makes contact with the floor.

The Kaminoans likely never expected that their calculated perfect solider’s abilities would ever be used like this. 

Obi-Wan stands in the middle of the room, orbited by a small detachment of troopers. The troopers are standard-build, one a few inches taller thanks to the crest of his hair and two have dyed their hair, one with patches of pink and the other with a dark regrowth at his roots to compliment the brass of the rest of his curls. Cody doesn’t immediately recognise them, a sensation which is quickly growing more familiar, pushed aside in the same instance. It had bothered him the first time he encountered a number he didn’t recognise listed next to a name he also didn’t recognise in a casualty report. What had it been? He can’t remember it, even now.

Turning his attention back to Obi-Wan, Cody breathes through the flutter in his chest, knowing that this would be enough, he could live like this. The Jedi stands, graceful even while stationary, his hands clasped behind his back. His tunic is fresh from the laundry, a faint scent of industrial strength cleaning solution permeating the usual tang of sweat and exertion that subsits throughout any training room if it’s designated as such for long enough. It doesn’t fit him like it once would, gaping slightly at the colour to reveal the jut of his collarbone, sinched in at the waist another notch than he had been using at the beginning of the war, any excess weight folded into muscle or it has been discarded.  It is more noticeable on the Jedi than it ever would be on the clones, they had never been allowed to gain any softness to them while on Kamino and the war didn’t lend itself to any gentle touches. 

Cody continues walking, raising his hand in greeting to Obi-Wan as the other man looks over. The grin he receives is achingly familiar, the same one that Cody will delude himself is just for him, and Cody returns it before he can think of stopping himself. He doesn’t join in the training session as the troopers step out once more, moving instead to the ladder to the observation room and beginning to climb.  (They’re approaching it wrong regardless, needing to be further apart to exploit the Jedi’s blindspots and take advantage of the gaps in his guard. Soresu may be defensive but it isn’t perfect, especially when the attackers are men that Obi-Wan will care for. He would need to make them bleed and he would pause. They all would.) 

“You’ve all done marvellously well,” Obi-Wan says. His voice doesn’t waver, that isn’t what catches Cody’s attention and makes him peer over his shoulder, tipping his chin to avoid the curve of his pauldron. There’s an odd note to Obi-Wan’s voice, something huge passing beneath the surface so all that is distinguishable is the swell it leaves in it’s wake, and Cody catches his tongue between his teeth before he continues to climb. The rungs leave a dull sensation on his hands, his gloves tucked into his belt and he forgets how cold things can be. 

He forgets what the universe is like without the shell of his armour and the cover of his gloves and the span of his calluses. 

But he knows Obi-Wan. 

Something is wrong. 

Up in the observation deck, Cody swipes his hand over the console and brings up the schedule for the room. Obi-Wan’s training is the only one booked, his time beginning from almost the moment they had returned to the ship and it lasts until the next day. The troopers, by all counts, shouldn’t be here. Looking down, the trooper with the pink patches in his hair lands on the ground in an uncoordinated sprawl. He makes to stand, rolling onto one side and drawing his legs close to his body but it doesn’t stop the another trooper from stumbling over him, effectively putting them both out of the fight. (Shoot him from the ground. He won’t notice if he thinks you’re out of the fight. Angle higher to account for the difference in elevation.)

“You’re all improving so much in such a short time,” Obi-Wan tells them, returning to his starting position. From this angle, Cody can see his hands clench and twist where they are clasped behind his back, a tremor rattling through his fingers like a speeder engine pushed to the brink and beginning to tear itself apart. 

“Thank you, sir. Would we—”

“Clear out now, troopers.” Cody can’t remember thumbing the intercom button but he is, leaning forward to brace one hand on the console so the troopers can see him. One of them jumps, his head turning to the speaker system before he looks up at Cody, and he seems so young from up here. He’s unmodified, his armour unpainted and his hair has only just begun to curl over his ears where it has grown from the standard short cut on Kamino, and Cody can’t remember ever being that young, that soft. He’d been moulded into his armour since he had been pulled from the tube, had to be strong, had to be capable because if he wasn’t, if he faltered, then someone would die. It is a simple equation. 

The troopers don’t argue, their salutes not as sharp as they could be, and Cody returns the gesture without pause. His shoulder aches, the muscle folding into an unconstrained shape from what he had been trained to hold, but it is only for a moment, and they leave. Cody drops his hand and taps the intercom once more when the door had closed behind them. “Would you like me to leave as well, sir?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head before Cody had finished speaking. “No, Cody. I’d like you to stay, if you can?”

It’s a question, a choice, and Cody knows that he could say no and there would be no repercussions, no punishment. Just an easy yes or no and it is Cody’s decision to make. 

There’s a click somewhere in the back of his mind and Cody feels hands on his shoulders, long-fingered and cold, far colder than any human touch he had experienced before, and he cannot think of anything but the oceans on Kamino and of drowning. There’s foam in his lungs and he cannot breathe as he tastes salt on his lips, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the effort of trying to answer. 

It would be easier to die.

It would hurt less to die.

He tries to speak and he can’t. Seawater pools in his mouth and something crawls over the blunt edges of his teeth, brushing against the inside of his cheek. He’s hollowed-out, long since decayed inside the shell of his armour that’s continued to move without him, march and follow orders (and love Obi-Wan), and he will continue to walk until the plastoid is torn away by something bigger, taller, hungrier trying to scrape any meat it can from him. 

Query: what is happening to me?

Answer: nothing you weren’t made for. 

That isn’t a comfort.

(Let him be alone, let him sink in the endless pools of his grief and his misery and let him Fall.)

No. That isn’t what Cody wants to do. He wants to stay, to make that choice for himself.

He’s made to be a good soldier. Jango signed them over to the Kaminoans for the payment of a single unaltered clone he could raise as his own and he did train them. He gave them the building blocks of what they could learn in the quiet shadows beneath the cameras where they passed tips on how to pass the regimented tests, the way of scuffing up their curls so one brother could stand in the place of another, the exact angle a sparking wire needed to be applied to the identification code in their arms so they could swap amongst the sims. They may have been made from the same genetics, but variations are as inevitable as a sunrise. Cody had toed the line for so long and he is tired of it. He’s made his own choices, he has chosen to love Obi-Wan, and he won’t give it up without a fight. 

(Very well then. Some adjustment will be necessary for you, Commander.)

“I’d like to stay,” Cody says and something clicks, no, snaps in his head, a breaking of a chain link in a tether stretched long and taut and fraying. He forgets in the same moment, unimportant, unnecessary, because Obi-Wan is smiling at up him and everything else can wait. 

Then Obi-Wan sags, his shoulders rolling forwards and his head dropping, chin to his chest, exhaustion clear in every line of his form, still delicate and graceful but closer to cracked glass now, a porthole threatening to buckle but still holding firm. Cody uncurls his fist and tips his palm to inspect the fresh indentations on his palm, perfectly evenly spaced, no flaws, no defects. How long could they both keep going like this, the clones and the Jedi facing a universe that feels too big for them to hold together? Cody would die on his feet, he knows this, but he hopes Obi-Wan has a softer death (a knife between his ribs perhaps, a poison consumed by two, too many variables, you know this too, Commander). He blinks away the sudden burst of pain, swallowing against the taste of salt and reaches for the comm again. “Shall I come down, sir, or–”

“No, no.” Obi-Wan pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, breathing out slowly. His hair is cut short, the edges valiantly trying to curl and at any other time it would make Obi-Wan look like the cover of a cheap holo, especially now, as bare as he is, but with exhaustion staining beneath his eyes and the slight tremor in his limbs, he looks abandoned, uncared for. 

It only lasts a moment before Obi-Wan straightens, squaring his shoulders as he pulls on the mantle of Jedi General once more, an armour that doesn’t give him the same protection as Cody’s does but removes him from the world all the same. If Cody touches him like he has before, a brush of the fingers, nothing more than that, would his skin feel cool like plastoid, a hard ridge over the sides of his palms where a seam should lie? Cody swallows against a burst of bile, presses his tongue between his teeth and bites until his jaw aches and the humming pain washes everything else away.

“May I come up, Cody?” 

A question and one Cody can answer. “Yes, sir, Obi-Wan.”

A name for a name, a line drawn in chalk and scavenged paint that can be wiped away but it exists for the here and now, and Obi-Wan grins up at him once more, relief clear in his face. “Thank you, Cody.”

Cody steps away from the system, the light from the screen dimming with the movement, and Obi-Wan disappears from view. He turns his attention to the network that runs along the length of the door, terminating in a heavyset console that sits offset from the casing surrounding it. Makeshift and makedo. Ducking down, he runs his fingers over the seam, searching for the serial number and then, just below it. The paint is rough beneath his fingers and it would be roughly the same shade as the casing to better disguise it, but it’s still there. That brother would be remembered, not in any holo broadcast or news report, but in the deliberate sanctity of paint and metal. He had been here. He had done this.

Cody stands straighter as if that simple action of realignment, the remembered feeling of a hand pressed against the crown of his head that didn’t flinch from the sensation of his freshly cropped curls and another planted into the space between his shoulder blades, moulding him like he’s still soft and pliable from the tube. He remembers the touch, the rough cadence of the words as he tried not to squirm away, a penance to be bourne and accepted because if it wasn’t him then it would be another brother and CC-2224 wouldn’t be able to save them. He would be nothing, nobody, a number in a system, a piece in a machine. 

He’s a Commander. He was made for this, for them, for him.

Cody keys a few commands into the door controls, locking the system down from the outside. It wouldn’t hold against an emergency override or Obi-Wan’s code but it would dissuade any other shinies from sneaking inside to bask in Obi-Wan’s presence. The hatch groans as it lifts as Cody turns to it, kneeling to draw the cover back. The handle strains beneath his grip, a screw beginning to work free and it is yet another thing that would need to be fixed after this war has drawn on for longer than anyone had predicted. This repair, as the handle is still attached and it is only just beginning to give way, falls somewhere below the strange noise that the engines keep making that coincide with a sudden jerk to the left that they’ve all grown accustomed to bracing for and above the cracked floor beneath one of the bunks that, until it starts growing mould or gets any bigger, will remain additional storage for the brother assigned to that bunk to barter. 

Obi-Wan scrambles through with a grunt of effort, his hand warm in Cody’s, and the cover drops closed behind him. Cody hadn’t realised, hadn’t fully appreciated the size of the control room before now. The consoles on the wall press into the already limited floorspace and overhead, pipes interlock and disappear into the walls drawing them even closer. There’s enough room for them both to stand, and Obi-Wan draws Cody to his feet before he lets him go, taking the single step allotted to him to sink back against the disengaged console, his shoulders curling forwards. 

“The younger troopers have a lot of energy,” Obi-Wan says, as if that is the sole reason for the dark stain beneath his eyes and the pale cast to his skin.

“They do.” Cody can remember being that young, the rotation of batches to groups to squads, emerging from one training simulation that had felt like he was drowning, saltwater in his lungs and he could still taste it despite it not being real, only to be thrown into another where the sun would burn lines into his skin that would only last until the power was turned off. He couldn’t ever remember being like them, however. He couldn’t remember turning to a batchmate and laughing with no care for the cameras or the line of command. 

He thinks about Fox. The closest thing that he has to a batchmate anymore after the Kaminoans had reviewed the results and deemed only Cody as satisfactory. His memories are plastoid, stocky and built to last, but blunted. There’s a scar that runs along the edge of Fox’s hairline, bisecting his dark curls into a demarcation line of greys, and Cody can’t remember what it feels like beneath his fingers. He remembers the cause: a poorly maintained practice weapon, the padding coming away all at once as Cody had swung for a final hit, only just managing to turn the weapon in time. He’d gotten a commendation for it, a note added to his file as he had stood next to the limp body of his brother, his hands bloody for the first time in his life. He thought he’d killed him, that his first death wore his face.

He can’t remember touching Fox after that. 

He can’t remember touching anyone.

Until Obi-Wan.

Rex had come close. The other battalion had only just departed the ship, and everything still felt too empty without the ringing chorus of voices in every available space and someone perched on every available space. It had been nice, similar to Kamino after the newest shinies were unbatched and their numbers swelled, and Cody had someone of a similar rank he could bunk with. What did they speak about? Cody tries to think back, draws the plans to his room in his mind from the cramped squeeze of his bunk and the single desk that is losing the war against the pile of flimsiwork and datapads on top of it. Rex had slept in the bunk, Cody folded along side him and wrapped in his own blankets to combat the busted heating system. They must have spoken but he can’t remember what about. 

(It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You’re a good solider, focus on your mission.)

His mission. He has a mission?

There has been no briefing, no parameters laid out around a wireframe map of a battlefield or documented in triplicate for future referral when Cody stands in front of a High General to inform them that Skywaker’s plan that involved almost entirely demolitions was discussed beforehand. Something is wrong. 

“I will confess, Cody,” Obi-Wan says and Cody’s attention snaps to him completely. “I wanted to stay here under some guise of usefulness.” He swings one of his legs out and stops the motion at the peak, rotating his leg to point his foot. It’s graceful, his leggings flush to his skin so the hitch of his knee as his leg locks into place, every motion deliberate. The bottom section of his leggings, mostly tucked beneath the worn-soft leather of his boots, is charred, the edge jagged and fraying in a rough dust of ash. He swings his leg back down and curls forward, addressing his clasped hands. “This is by no means my first conflict, or even my first war, but I feel a unique sense of helplessness with it. It may just be that I’m older now, or I’m in a position where I can influence matters in a way I couldn’t before, but—” 

He breaks off, squeezing his eyes shut as if the dim light pains him. Cody steps forward, his leg bumping against Obi-Wan’s, feeling helpless himself, an itch beneath the solid welding of his knuckles and reaches out without a thought to how the action would end. He halts before he touches Obi-Wan’s arm, his fingers close enough to brush against the roughspun fabric and feel the latent heat of Obi-Wan’s skin. Choices piled upon choices and Cody knows he can retreat, he can retract his hand and nothing would be made of it. It would just be what it is. 

Cody places his hand on Obi-Wan’s forearm, squeezing in what he hopes is comfort. 

“I can’t help but think that I didn’t sign up for this, Cody. And if I didn’t sign up for this, then what does that mean for you and your brothers. You should have had a choice.” 

(Pull away, step away, leave him. Let him Fall. This would be just a taster of the betrayal that he will face.)

Obi-Wan flinches, his arm twitching beneath Cody’s touch. Similar to applying a bacta patch, Cody thinks behind the rush of an ocean and the whispers of a part of himself that wants the world to burn because it has hurt him, hurt them, the initial shock of the application, the innate worry of further pain. Blinking, Obi-Wan raises his head, close, so close, like they had been at that first meeting when Obi-Wan had been dark and cool with rain but undeniably beautiful and Cody had chosen to love him, the first choice he had made entirely for himself and one he would continue to make again and again and again. 

“Cody, what—”

“Obi-Wan.” Cody speaks past the intrusion of his heart lodged in his throat, the world growing ever more unstable beneath his feet because he’s going to die when he finishes speaking if he’s not already dead and this is some pretty scenario cooked up by a final few flashes of electricity in his mind. There’d been nothing in the simulations to cover what dying felt like, only pain so they would know better, do better the next time. This feels entirely different. 

“We might not have had a choice then, any more of a choice than you did in any of this, but we do now. We make our own choices everyday and I will continue to choose to stay by your side, to stay in this war because I am needed here, and I will have choices after the war as well.”

Something snaps in the back of his mind, cold iron laid against the crown of his head, and Cody braces himself for pain. Nothing like Kamino had happened since they had left but waiting for the other boot to drop, the invisible blade hanging somewhere suspended above him is exhausting, so if he finds out now, here, then he will know. He still hopes that he’s wrong. 

Obi-Wan’s face is pale, drawn tight by exhaustion and every burden he insists on carrying throughout the war, but his grin is still the same one that Cody knows, warm despite everything. “What would you do after the war, Cody?”

It feels wrong to admit that he’d been thinking about after the war. Cody is a solider, and he’s a good solider (the thought echoes, knocking against some obstacle that Cody has already forgotten). Obi-Wan is a General, his General. There should be no ‘after the war’ for either of them and yet, and yet…

Cody glances down and Obi-Wan is still wearing the socks that Cody had made him, the orange faded with time and dirt and there is a neatly darned hole in one of the mismatched cuffs in a brighter shade of gold. He had gotten a little better since then, the socks could generously be referred to as a pair now, but the second one still sits on the needles in his quarters, untouched for the past handful of weeks given the battle they’ve just emerged from. 

It had given Cody time to think.

“I’d look after my brothers first.” It must be written somewhere in his file, listed beneath his measurements which are as average as they could be and his test scores, which had been carefully above but not too high to draw attention. He’s practical down to his bones and the sequence of his DNA, his brothers would come first. 

Obi-Wan’s face softens. “Of course. I would expect you to do nothing less. But after them, what would you hope for?”

He could stop, back away from this edge at any time. Cody’s still holding Obi-Wan’s arm, the muscles clearly defined beneath the thin cover of fabric, and he feels the distant reverberation of Obi-Wan’s thumb working into the lines of his palm. “I’d like a home, something small that’s just mine. Somewhere I can have visitors.”

He can’t look at Obi-Wan as he speaks, addressing his words to the curve of Obi-Wan’s collarbone, the slouch of his tunic exposing a scattershot constellation of freckles. 

“I’d imagine you wouldn’t be short of admirers to entertain.” 

“There’d only be a few people that I’d want to see and only one person who’s admiration I’d care for.” Cody glances up despite himself, his stomach twisting just as it had when he had stepped onto the landing bay railing, slick with rain beneath his feet, and held his hand out into the unknown. Obi-Wan’s eyes are dark, fond with something lurking just beneath the undercurrent, a behemoth that Cody could only guess at the shape of with his limited hope. 

Obi-Wan is close, closer still before he pauses, the slight inhalation as his mouth parts impossibly loud. “Cody, I—”

The room floods with a deep red light as the warning klaxon begins to sound and Obi-Wan jerks away with a curse. In the shifting light, his cheeks are dark but the colour only lasts for a moment before General Kenobi squares his shoulders with a sigh. “For the Force’s mercy. Cody, shall we? We will pick this up later.” Obi-Wan pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. Something in Cody’s chest catches, a thumb hovering over a trigger and he doesn’t know if the blaster is armed or not, a dull whine echoing in the spaces between the alarm. 

“Please?”

A question. Needing an answer.

Cody nods. “Yes, Obi-Wan.” 

He steps away from Obi-Wan, letting his hand drop, and they are resigned to their roles once more, the hissing possibility of what could have been coiling around them both. 

#codywan #star wars #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #my writing #fanfic #cody x obi wan

[simdertalia]

💗 Animal Crossing Decor Set 3 💗

I always start feeling a little beachy at this point in the winter, so here are some Animal Crossing conversions with a vacation / travel sort of theme. Some meshes edited, with extra swatches added. I hope you like them!

19 20 items | Sims 4, Base game compatible. I have added additional swatches to many of the items.

Update (July 2th 2023): At the request of a patron I have made a version of the wreath that snaps to the wall ❤️

Set contains: -Globe | 3 swatches -Hula Doll | 6 swatches -DSLR Camera | 7 swatches -Rosetta Stone Deco | 2 swatches -Sea Globe | 7 swatches -World Map | 2 swatches -Book | 6 swatches -Tower of Pisa | 1 swatch -Sphinx | 1 swatch -Seagull Mobile | 8 swatches -Microwave | 6 swatches -Monstera Plant | 8 swatches -Seashell Wreath | 7 swatches -Clam Shell | 11 swatches -Clam Vase | 11 swatches -Ukulele Deco | 15 swatches -Ukulele Wall Deco | 15 swatches -Study Set - 2 swatches -BGC Heart of Sulani Necklace Display | 6 swatches

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod. Type “Animal Crossing Set 3” into the search query in build mode to find quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear. Type “BGC” for the necklace display.

💗 Anyone here via SimFinds, please see THIS POST

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): https://simfileshare.net/folder/181671/

📁 Alt Download (still no ads): https://mega.nz/folder/RkgFQRQY#vEIEuNs5g1c5nVot8jxS9g

As always, please let me know if you have any issues! Happy Simming! ✨ If you like my work, please consider supporting me:

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#sims 4 cc #s4cc #ts4cc #sims 4 animal crossing #sims 4 travel #sims 4 vacation #sims 4 sea #sims 4 music #sims 4 wall decor #sims 4 wall object #sims 4 wall sculpture #sims 4 object #sims 4 seashell #sims 4 altar #sims 4 plants #sims 4 plant #sims 4 monstera #sims 4 book #sims 4 books #sims 4 vase #sims 4 jewelry clutter #sims 4 map #sims 4 poster #sims 4 statue #sims 4 historical #sims 4 nautical #sims 4 souvenir