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#all of those are awesome and have their places in the community
assblastergaster · 1 year
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it is a little irritating to see every autistic character in any media be instantaneously shaded as aroace by some online communities—and subsequently treated as if this is a hard rule to view the media with. there is a lot to be said in that a lot of asexual people see themselves in characters that have hard times connecting with people "normally," to which i can only relate. nothing wrong with that. but when a community almost simultaneously decides that autistic characters have to not feel platonic or sexual attraction because they don't approach romance or sex or love the same ways as neurotypicals—it feels a bit like a stereotype.
Of course, there are plenty of aroace autistic people and i cannot deny that there should be more characters of the same caliber. As an autistic person, though, it just feels a little alienating at times. I guess a reasonable comparison would be the classic "only nonbinary character is a massless form, a robot, or a completely androgynous magical person." like, yeah, those are some sort of representation...but there's a much wider world of nonbinary identities to be explored.
i did not word this very well, but. yeah.
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forbidden-sunlight · 1 month
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Two
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Part One
Part Three
Salutations everyone, good to be back on the air~! :)
I understand it’s been a while since I wrote anything, but due to how busy I’ve gotten in real life, updates will be a bit slower until perhaps the summer. Nonetheless, I am committed to writing the best Hazbin Hotel fics for the community so that everyone can enjoy them to their heart’s content!
Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing desk for collaborating with me on this chapter and helping me bring these fantastic characters to life on the page, and @vikkirosko for being an awesome beta reader alongside @illuminaresblog.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
The reconstruction of the hotel included the kitchen being entirely remodeled. 
Gone were the cabinet doors that hung from its creaky hinges, the marble floors that never shined bright no matter how many times Niffty scrubbed them,  the mice’s squeaking and an ice box that couldn’t fit all of the foodstuff to feed several people. Dark matte cabinets held the dining ware and bowls, stacked up in neat little rows and protected by glass doors on either side of a large wrought iron stove top and the range hood. The cedar countertops glowed under the lights, stretching from the island in the middle of the room to the small dining room table stationed on the right side. Copper pots and pans were suspended in the air above the island, so whenever it was time to start cooking, Angel or Lucifer would have to pull out the ones needed and put them away after the meal. The icebox was now bigger, stainless steel with a bottom drawer to place frozen items in. 
Overall, it was a massive improvement from the previous one with additional space and a little footstool for Niffty to make the midday meals. Alastor…he was usually in charge of the evening ones, though the others have recently started to contribute to making their own dishes. The successes of those evenings varied, though they all tasted delicious to you. 
 Niffty had all but pushed you into a chair at the dining table as soon as you entered the kitchen with Husk. You watched her tiny frame skitter across the marble floor, plating stacked sandwiches held together with toothpicks stabbed through the middle and potato salad and two other side dishes before it appeared in front of you. She must have prepared some tea for you as well, seeing an ivory teapot and a cup already filled to the brim, steam rising and emitting a fragrant aroma that tickled your nose. 
You thanked her graciously for the meal, even though you were quite sure that you were not going to be able to finish it all before you had to leave for Alastor’s radio station. Twenty minutes was not what Charlie would qualify as a proper lunch break. 
The tiny housekeeper  repeated the same ritual with Husk though she directly handed his plate to him before she gave you an annoyed look that clearly said, finish your meal, all of it, and got distracted with the sight of a roach and began to chase it down with her needle. Husk merely shook his head and sat down next to you on the right side of the table. He picked at his food, clearly not in the mood to eat because his mind was on something else. However, you did not pry. Vaggie had spoken to you about respecting people’s privacy in your first week of arriving at the hotel; just because someone doesn’t seem happy, it didn’t mean you had a right to address it. Talking about it might help, and sometimes it doesn’t. If anything…just let the sleeping dogs lie. 
You eyed the clock. Ten minutes left, and you were only halfway through the meal. You ate the sandwiches, and only had a spoonful of the potato salad. You were about to take another bite from a different side dish when Husk spoke up, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. 
“I saw what happened in the greenhouse.”
You blinked. Husk….he had seen the confrontation between you and Alastor? You carefully lowered the spoon down the plate, tapping against the porcelain. “There’s nothing to worry about, Husk.” You replied calmly, your attention entirely focused on the meal in front of you. “He will not harm me. He simply wants to talk about my performance on the job.”
“That’s bullshit.” Husk hissed. “We both know it ain’t just ‘cause he’s the facility manager of this place, or that you’re slackin’ off,  it’s ‘cause he hates it when people question his authority!” He slammed a fist against the table, causing the silverware and glassware to wobble momentarily before righting themselves again. “[First Name], I saw. I know what he did, and you really have no idea who you’re gonna be alone with in what, five minutes?”
“Seven. And I know who Alastor is. He is a serial killer, a cannibal, and an overlord who broadcasts his carnage on the radio.” you said, raising the tea cup to your mouth as you took a languid sip,  placing it back down the saucer a moment later with a clink. You looked at him. “He is also in a weakened physical state. He will not admit that he has not fully recovered from the war.”
“I swear to God, do not make me go to the princess and Vaggie about this, because I fucking will -”
“Telling them what he did will not change his tactics. He will simply find another way to intimidate me.” You cut off. “You know him better than anyone else, Husk. He is clever, manipulative, and will do anything to get what he wants.”
Husk shot a baffled look at you, eyebrows raised and yellow irises narrowed slightly. “You really don’t see how he looks at you, do you?”
You blinked. “As an enemy? Yes.” Hostility, anger, shock, humiliation. You had seen those expressions many times on that battlefield when you charged across No Man’s Land with the Major’s battalion, cutting through the enemy lines with anything in reach and at your disposal. A weapon of war, a loyal dog to the Major. You watched Husk’s face fall into disbelief, then aggravation before he slapped a paw across his face. You tilted your head to the side. What was wrong? Why was he upset? Is it something you had said? You watched the bartender stand up from the table, walk towards the lower cabinets, crouching down and pulling out a hidden bottle of whiskey. He uncorked it, and took a swing from it before turning back towards you, frowning.
“Ya might have been a soldier, ya might have things that would turn shit white and ya not be scared of Alastor…but you should be. He’s been gone for seven years, and no one knows why, but I can say with certainty that he’s much stronger than before. If you’re gonna talk to him, just….just don’t mention….he’s no different than I am, all right?” That was all he said before almost bolting towards the door, leaving you alone in the kitchen. 
No different than what Husk is. You thought, picking up both of the half-eaten plates from the table, throwing the reminder in the trash, washing and rinsing them off under the tap before setting them down in the dish rack. What does that mean? Alastor does not drink nor does he gamble. Husk is under his commanding unit, a soldier. Your brow furrowed. Did Husk….knows something about Alastor that he doesn’t want others to know? How did Alastor rise to power so quickly and overthrow the overlords who had been dominant in Hell for centuries? 
You would have to think about this possibility later, because when you looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, you realized you were already late for your meeting with Alastor. 
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Shadows were handy little helpers to have, Alastor notes. Not only could they provide protection to the staff when he had other matters to attend to in the Pentagram but they were excellent spies. To be his ears and gather all of the delicious secrets he could uncover from enemies that were actually some semblance of a threat to his plans, or just because he was bored and liked to keep tabs on the latest bits of gossip. He loved to share this information with Rosie over tea-time when the subject of their discussions was not revolved around the ornery old bitch, Susan.
Although they have proven themselves to be useful time and time again, these little helpers were also sentient and created their own discord, much to the frustration of their creator. As much as you can say you’ve been keeping a distance from Alastor, he unfortunately can’t say the same. His shadows as of late have found themselves almost constantly attached to you. Through darkened hallways to under your leaves at the greenhouse, they were always at your side. Ready to step in and assist you in any way they can, even if he won’t lift a finger. 
Regardless of how annoyed he has been with them recently,  they had repeated word for word of your conversation with Husk. They know you are late but have said that you are walking towards him and not from way to him, whispering how you were turning right at the end of the corridor and about to come across the staircase leading up to the radio station. They adored you, much to his annoyance. It had already been difficult to even comprehend the idea that he had feelings for you, and his shadows, unfortunately, reflected the darker parts of him that he wished to be locked up for all eternity. The weaknesses that were a threat to his own goals. 
He could not act like an altruist or a lovesick fool. He hungered for power. He craved freedom. Nothing should stop him from carrying out what he wants. If he wrangled the truth out of you, to know that you despised him and did not care about him in any capacity….he will be satisfied. 
Will he though? 
His train of thought was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. Putting on his best smile and straightening out his bowtie, Alastor walked across the room and opened it. He looked down, and saw you staring at him. Your appearance wasn’t as ruffled as he had suspected it to be from being late for an appointment, just a few [Hair Color] strands loose from the hairstyle you wear every day ... .but he supposed he can let it slide this time. He’d rather not hear Niffty complain to him about how you aren’t eating your meals.
“Well, well, there you are~! And here I was wondering if you had forgotten! Come, come, take a seat!” He said, gesturing to the couch sitting adjacent to the soundboard where he sat. He did not even want to look at you, not at this moment. He could feel the shadows purring in delight under his feet, no doubt staring at you with such adoration that it made him gag. He reigned them with a pulse of his power just before a slippery fellow tried to crawl towards the couch and perch over your shoulder. 
He took a seat, and so did you after smoothing out the skirts of your dress. You looked at him straight in the eye, spine straight and gloved hands folded neatly in your lap. 
“So, you are aware as to why you are here, yes~?”
“...I am.”
“And why is that?” He pressed.
“Because I questioned your authority. You tried to frighten me, and you had failed.” You replied. “In my defense, you were in no position to exert yourself when you are still possessing an injury that you will not speak about to the others. I have no intention of saying that to anyone here. I only ask that you do not harm Charlie or the others here in the hotel, or I will keep the promise I made to you less than an hour ago. You will be killed by my hand or I will die trying. People keep secrets because it is necessary for their survival, and the others around them. How can I be sure….that you will not raise your hand and strike us down as soon as your wings are unclipped?”
Alastor’s eyes widened slightly as a wave of high-pitched radio static left his teeth and bounced off the walls before he quickly recollected himself. Goodness, always the blunt one, weren’t you? Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, he made sure his grin stretched all the way to his ears, never showing you what is really going through his mind. Annoyance. Frustration. Adoration. Amusement. 
“Well, those words are the very reason why you are here, my dear.” He stood up from his chair, slowly walking around the soundboard, running a finger across the polished wood. His eyes were fixed on yours and you did not look away. Good. Keep your focus on him and nothing else. 
“By meddling in my affairs, even if it was unintentional on your part, is putting the rest of the hotel in danger. I cannot be compromised under any circumstances, lest I anger the one whom I have an agreement with.”
“The one who is responsible for your rise in power?” He blinked, stopping in his steps for a moment.  Ah. You caught on without him having to spell out to you. Unless dear old Husk had said something to you? No. The shadows have told him that he merely mentioned the seven years that the Radio Demon was gone, nothing beyond what everyone else already knew.  
He nodded, swiveling on his feet and because he felt like it, a jaunty little spin before he sat on the coffee table,  right in front of you and crossing his legs with such elegance that it would make a French girl jealous. 
“Indeed. And trust me when I say they are much more powerful than Charlie’s dear father. That is to say, not even Lucifer can protect you or anyone else from what is about to or could happen should I be compromised. And I know how much you care about the staff here, even sweet little Niffty. Which is why…I want to make a deal.” He held out his hand towards you. “Keep what has happened at the radio station and anything else beyond these four walls to yourself. Never share what you know, not even to Charlie. In exchange for your silence, I will not harm anyone here in the hotel unless we know for certain that they are a threat. Well?” He tilted his head to the side. “Do we have a deal?”
You stared at his hand, then raised your own to your lips, carefully tugging off the glove with your teeth until it fell into your lap. The adamantine skeletal fingers curled around his own, solidifying the deal between the two of you. Alastor felt a burst of power course through him, felt the stitches on his mouth and eyes tugging, the walls turning emerald and the shadows danced around them in celebration. Then the magic subsided, yet the warmth, the burning sensations from your prosthetics seeping through the leather gloves did not. A chirping of radio static left his mouth upon feeling his hand being squeezed to an almost painful degree. When he looked at you, he saw emotions swirling in your eyes that he had not seen from you yet.
Anger.
Disappointment.
Resentmentment.
These were emotions he had caused. Him, the one who was holding your hand tightly because he made a simple deal for yourr silence, and not her soul. So why does he feel conflicted? He had gotten what he wanted, to push you away from him, to banish these uninvited feelings from his chest. But this deal did not give him any satisfaction. It caused him…pain. The kind of pain that he cannot explain. It was not the pain he felt when he missed an opportunity to have an excellent dinner, and not even the pain that…that Adam had given him.
For whatever reason, he could not stop himself from bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss across the knuckles even when the angelic steel instantly burned his mouth upon contact. When he realized what he had done, he pulled away as if he had been struck again by his drunken father and promptly left his office, disappearing into the darkness and subsequently from the hotel altogether.
He did not like this. He did not like these feelings. He did not like how he never had the opportunity to ask him if you cared about him, loved him…yet why did your opinion matter? Why did he want to hear you say, out of your volition, that you love him too? To a man who is supposed to feel nothing at all?!
Times like this, there was only one person who could provide light on this precarious situation without daring to judge him. The Pentagram’s most delightful, daring, and dangerous overlord of Cannibal Town. Rosie. His oldest and dearest friend. 
He supposed it had been long enough since the two of them had tea together, hasn’t it?
Alastor inhaled a shaky breath, allowing himself to materialize on the streets near the Jazz District and smiled brightly as if he wasn’t having an existential crisis, humming a merry tune under his breath that made nearby demons tremble in fear. 
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Taglist: @alastor-simp @the-cat-queen-peasants @pinkgoldweebgirl @rorusena @whenitgrowsbright @aria-tempest @aconfusedwonderland @victheauthor @luthefriendlywitch @lunaramune @candyladycry @22carolina08 @ladydoe8 @lanxianschoenheit @hellbornediamonddreams @imperfectbloodmoon @francisnyx @sillypumpkins @no1sillybilly @faux-ecrivain @bones4thecats @frompeach @frenchtoastmafia @oucx @navierkalani @solandis-does-stuff @anielly-2010 @tonightwrites @mentallyunstablenoodle @bladeismine @asianfrustration13 @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @realifezompire @blumin8 @chewbrry @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @zenix108 @ang3lofdivinity @yourdoorisunlocked @nunezs-stuff @ccruzmoon
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genericpuff · 3 months
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LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 41 - TOWER 4
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< Previous episode | Next episode >
Nothing quite sets in the holiday spirit like SPOOOOKY SHIT-
Can you believe it's been a year since Rekindled actually started? The way time flies when you're having fun. I had actually forgotten I had redrawn a lot of those first few episodes when I made it an official "thing" (i.e. when I put it on an update schedule and signed my life away foreverrr /j) so tracing back when Rekindled officially 'began' had me finding old versions of those first few episodes that were oooooof bro-
Okay, but for real, Rekindled's come a long way, and it still has a long way to go still which makes me so excited. As much as those who see what I do here like to assume it's purely out of spite and hate, I really do love working on this comic, and that includes the part of the process where I revisit old episodes of LO that, even after everything, I still love. The newer seasons may be dead to me, but what it used to be has a special place in my heart, and Rekindled has really helped me explore what could have been. It's made Saturday nights a thrill for me again - I get to enjoy two whole doses of LO content now, with a fun balance of flavors that makes being a part of this community twice as fun as normal. You could say it's really rekindled my flame for LO-
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A very special thanks to @banshriek, who's helped me bring Rekindled to a whole new level that wouldn't exist without them. They've been an amazing assistant and a wonderful friend and I'm so thankful to have them in my corner <3
And thank you! All of you, for following along with Rekindled, reading my essays, destroying my ask inbox, and just being an awesome community full of awesome people. I've got a busy year ahead with lots of stuff planned, from art markets and expos to plot threads in Rekindled that I'm hyped af to get to; not to mention Lore Olympus officially ends this year, meaning I'll undoubtedly have loads to talk about (which fills me with both a strange sense of excitement and dread at the same time LOL) I'm gonna try and take it all in the best spirit that I can, I wanna come out of this shit sparkling like one of Hades' diamond golf balls.
Let's make 2024 a fucking banger.
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avery73 · 3 months
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Raph developing feelings HCs
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Each of the turtles has their own way to subtly communicate their interest in someone once their crush starts developing into something deeper
Leo is the ultimate gentleman – essentially prince charming
Leo will hold doors open, pull out their chair, offer his arm when ever they go out for a walk, lots of attentive listening, present flowers regularly, share poems b/c “it just made me think of you”, kiss the back of their hand – the whole nine yards
Donnie will find ways to improve and/or increase the ease of virtually every task they could possibly have
Donnie is also the king of daily little “you’re on my mind” messages throughout the day – “hey lovely, make sure you’re drinking water” – “don’t forget about your 3:30 appointment today” – “kick ass at your big presentation you little badass you”
Mikey is highly in-tune with his interest’s emotional status – feeling down, he’s there to hype them up about how awesome they really are – feeling sad, he’s there to shower them with hugs and kisses and cuddles – feeling happy, he’s the dude to get the party started, and all in celebration of them
Mikey also isn’t shy about sharing songs or pictures that remind him in any little way of them, and tells them so right then and there
Raph, however, isn’t direct in the sense his brothers are
he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeves
but once he realizes he’s got it bad for you, it’s time to put his own way of showing his interest into action
because as everyone knows, Raph is a guy of actions – they speak louder than words
nervous about coming on too strong, he wants to show you how much he likes you in more subtle, but profound ways
so that means presents are out – sudden gift giving is too on the head
poems, songs, quotes, and the like are also out – that’s not his style
Raph’s niche is attention to detail
the dude is crazy observant – more than he is ever given credit for
while everyone else is talking away, he’s quietly observing and taking everything in
he notices all sorts of tiny little things about everyone, but with you, he’s now got a meticulous, highly specific catalog of all your preferences and quirks memorized to the T
and now it’s time to put those details to work for him
you have a favorite brand of lotion
hey, there is now a bottle of it right next to your preferred spot in the common room
you like to roll two batteries in the palm of your hand whenever you’re feeling anxious
he doesn’t think batteries are the safest thing for you to be rubbing together in that delicate hand of yours
you’re feeling uneasy one day and *gasp* your batteries are gone
how’d that happen?            
well lucky for you, Raph conveniently just so happens to have exactly two marbles in his pocket to offer you instead
whenever you get a beverage, you always tap the top of it twice before opening it
he doesn’t know what the tapping is about – but you always do it
and he once overheard you telling April that it was your opinion that any real man would never give his partner an unopened drink – he’d open it for them right before handing it over
now, any time you ask for a drink, Raph is the one to get it for you, and guess what, without fail, he taps the top twice then opens it and places it directly in your hand
you are the ONLY one he opens drinks for
not even April gets this gesture
you let slip once that you absolutely adore having your hair played with, but you’ll NEVER ask someone to do it – cuz you think that’d be weird
well, funnily enough, big man himself has developed an interest in braided hairstyles
can he try some of them on you? you have lots of long, gorgeous hair just begging to be braided
sure it seems a little odd for him, but he wants to know if it’s cathartic like his knitting is
one of his better sly fibs
you’d love for him to braid your hair! yay!
point one to Raph
you really aren’t fond of walking home in the dark
you’ll do it – but you don’t like it
he’s also learned that even though you’ve been in their lives for quite some time now, you ALWAYS need the invitation to stay the night – no matter how tired you are, no matter how late it is – you will never ask
like the protector he is, every time you’re hanging out at the lair, he is the first to offer – “why don’t you stay the night shorty, it’s not safe for you to be out and about at this hour” – “there’s all kinds of idiots out at this time, you’re safest here, with us” – “sure I could walk ya home, but why go out in the cold if we don’t have ta?”
it’s Raph’s way of saying, you don’t have to tell me or ask – I already know – you’re important to me – so I pay close attention
he’s secretly hoping you’re getting the hint
praying that it’s endearing himself to you
and maybe, it’ll encourage you to broach the boyfriend/girlfriend topic with him
cuz come on, we all know he ain’t gonna be the one to bring it up
no matter how badly he wants to
it’s not until Jones sells you out on your birthday in front of the brothers that Raph really gets to showcase how much he knows about you
you stream everything in your living room - but your bedroom is reserved exclusively for your top favorite movies – all on DVD – including the film Hot Fuzz
you like flowers, but you honestly hate getting cut bouquets as a gift – you feel like it’s putting something so pretty on life support then being expected to watch as it withers away
so details, here we go…
come your birthday dinner in the lair, Raph prepares to give you what he hopes will be the signature “I’M SUPER INTO YOU” gesture   
taking a piece of your hair to twirl between his fingers, he clears his throat, and gives himself an internal pep talk
you got this, you got this….
“Here ya go, shorty. Happy birthday”
and you catch your breath, as Raphael, yes cool but crude Raph, presents you with none other than a Japanese Peace Lilly
you don’t even care how flustered it’ll make him
you throw yourself up at him
and crush your lips right against his
squeezing his neck tight you tell him, full of confidence, “It’s perfect babe. I love it.”
BABE?!?!?!?
yes, babe – unless your boyfriend would prefer a different nickname perhaps?
nope – nope – babe is great
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Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
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greenplumbboblover · 8 months
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Simblr.cc
I made a website!
Now you've probably seen the attempt before, people getting mad at tumblr and then making a 'Simblr' (Tumblr clone). Though, despite tumblr being sometimes a bit frustrating because of their changes, that's not why this site came to be...
I wanted a place where Storytellers, Creators, and just generic sim players can all be together and get the exposure and fun that they deserve.
Not only that, but also for a place where the TSM community and TS1 can belong somewhere too without the use of a forum.
And eventually, I hope we can make it the home for Life by you and Paralives when that comes out :)
Plus, it's also NSFW friendly! While the site is initially PG-13, we've got tags and profile settings that allow you to browse NSFW items as well.
Simblr.cc:
Discord:
What can I find on Simblr.cc exactly?
Anything for all sims games, really! TS1, TS2, TS3, TS4 and TSM
Practically anything you technically can find on Tumblr and really other sim websites. We've got...
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Mods
I've specifically made filters for different games, and their needs in mind. For example, for TS2 there are so many awesome game fixes out there and clean templates, that you'll be able to navigate and find this easily.
Not only that, items can also be put in multiple categories! Especially great if you've uploaded a set!
You can also find Testers wanted only mods here if you feel like helping out fellow simmers with testing!
NOTE:
Mods do go through a "queue", but not in the same way as you may have experienced on MTS or TSR. I merely check if it's flagged as NSFW correctly, and then it's good to go! :) So the waiting time will be much less!
See TOU: Click me!
Eventually, I may see if I can get a bypass system in place, but that really depends on if NSFW isn't too confusing.
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Work In Progress
To show off your work to others! Even if it's project #94882 that may never get released, any WIPS are fine!
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Stories
It's really difficult to find new Sim stories or Legacies on Tumblr, let alone for these writers to get people to read their awesome stories! Hopefully this should make the process much easier now!
Also! You got any comic or "movie/cinematic" like stories? No problem! Just check the "carousel only" option, so no description needed!
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Feed
... and for the Simblrs here, a feed to see all the people you follow, their content (stories, WIPs, mods and general posts)! Or, simply check out sitewide, or even game-related, what people have been posting!
Customizable profile pages
Just like tumblr, you can make your own profile page! With it's own colours and a pre-made theme. (if you need a different profile page, though, Let us know on the discord)
Want a peek? Here you go:
What about moderation?
While there's a report system in place, and the items in the queue are checked for NSFW, but users could still turn their non-NSFW to a NSFW, items may be stolen. So do report these as that will never be condoned!
Additionally, all comments you get on your mods, story, etc. Those are primarily moderated by you. You can delete them, you can turn comments off even if you'd like. If things really go wrong, you can always ask an admin.
Got any ideas? Feel free to share!
Since I really wanted it to be a website we all create together in some degree, if you have any features you're missing or would like to see, feel free to share on the discord!
Where are the Advertisements?
If you're currently not seeing them as of reading the post, that's because that's still being set up. This is merely to cover the cost of the website! Though, I promise you I won't bombard the site with ads, as that's just annoying.
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wisteriagoesvroom · 2 months
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📚 10 f1 fics i've loved lately 🏎️
been thinking a lot about how to organise fic recs into some sort of sensible post, 'cus there are so many (great!) pairings and (delicious!) driver combinations, not to mention so many varying styles of fic and SUPER TALENTED WRITERS!!111!!
just gonna list a bunch in no particular order, with accompanying pics, so you can get a sense of the vibes.
'cus what is f1 rpf but all about the ✨ vibes?! 🏁
p.s. people are in this community making amazing stuff for freeee!! if you liked these please leave a kudos or a comment, it makes a writer's day 🫡 
let's gooooo--
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objects in the mirror by linearity (@drivestraight) charles/max. 87k words (series), rated t then e
listen. LISTEN! charles to rbr is one of the best premises ever and i will read it in like a thousand iterations. but this fic. this fic series in particular cleared my skin, made me want to cut my hair into a bob out of sheer emotion. i would be remiss not to start with this one because its impact on my f1 rpf trajectory should be studied by science. you know when a story just jumps off the page and it's so real that it becomes your canon. a kind of meteoric inevitability. plus, i almost never cry at fics. but by the time the third act of this one hit, i just went -- damn, am i rly about to tear up at a f1 rpf fanfiction rn? (yes.)
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sawtooth by nottonyharrison (@nottonyharrison) charles/max. 40k words, rated e
max as a f1 engineer? for CARLOS at FERRARI? sign me the fuckkk up. first off, awesome premise. there's always going to be something so heartwrenching about "what ifs", especially in any universe where max isn't a racer. despite the change of circumstances, just... the sheer poetry of two characters who just inexplicably find their way to each other in any universe... 🤧 also this story nails racing scenes in a way that's so visceral, i feel like a fly on the damn halo with them. and, aside from the gourmet lestappen, carlos's whole thing in this fic is joyous! spicy! he's so unapologetic and vaguely annoying! hilarious! + the swimming pool scene lives rent-free in my head.
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salt skin by peachbellini (@strawberry-daiquiris) oscar/lando. 12k words, rated e
this fic is magic. literally and figuratively. (MERMAID LANDO???? MERMAID LANDO.) the kind of story that makes you gasp and melt a little bit. and made me want to throw my phone at the writer, 'cause it's really that good. the yearning, the metaphor for all that's monstrous, a boy who is lost (and the boy who he finds, is equally so). this is just beautifully written and a little quirky and so well executed. i think i put it in my bookmarks as "what if lando was a mermaid and it was filmed by a24" or something. pearl of a story.
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hockey!! shrimp colors :) by leafmeal0ne (@ocontraire) oscar/lando. 13k words, rated t
leaf meal one. i have only known you a week but if anything were to happen to you i would wreck everyone in the room including myself. in all seriousness, anything that leaf writes is brilliant. they're one of these writers who could do a throwaway line on the label of a ketchup bottle and i will probably scream about it. the precision, the way they switch up sentence structures, the freaking darcy-level regency yearning transposed onto a contemporary sports setting. i'd rec all of leaf's sports AUs and i'll probably talk about more in a future fic rec post. BUT. the hockeyyy one my GOD. the barely restrained violence, their mutual desire, the theme of finding your place... *wails uncontrollably*
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you almost unearthly thing by anonymous max/daniel, 3.7k words, rated g
max is a governess(govern..lad?) and daniel is the mystery man at the manor. this was a response to a request i made in the kinkmeme! (if you haven't read those fics go check 'em out, there are so many great ones, and not necessarily all rated e). this is a criminally underrated little story that has my favourite repressed feelings + people dancing around each other + gothic vibes + "what the hell is wrong with y'all in this tale" combo that i really adore. it's really well written and captures the atmosphere so well.
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the so-called narrative by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) oscar/carlos, 10k words, rated e
i'm once again asking why there are only 7 carlos/oscar works in the tag. I'M ONCE AGAIN ASKING-- *is sedated*. *jolts awake* okay but for real this is a great story. hot, fake-friendship-to-situationship which so happens is one of my favourite places to be. also hello miscommunication/they're so weird about it/they both want each other but can't express themselves for shit/insane racer boys energy.
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and silver, and samarium by pink_mink (@on-softs) george/toto, 5.2k words, rated e
i profess i am not usually the biggest fan of A/B/O (altho!! this fandom has made me go BUT ACTUALLY HM at least a few times). and this fic freaking nails it, along with the twisted power dynamics between TPs and drivers, as seen through the lens of omegaverse. this story rattles around my head like a stubborn ghoul just from the style and prose and sheer audacity alone. george kneeling at toto's knees while he's working..... ohhhhhhhhh i was this close to calling my lawyers.
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algorithm by anney (@badboy-george) charles/max, 16k words, rated e
i LOVE, LOOOOVE a sci fi concept alright. love that shit, will inhale it like moon dust with zero regrets. and what a fantastic one this one is!! the premise is that the FIA can now statistically show the compatibility of drivers on the grid and it's very pacific rim-y drift compatible, mixed with the surreal vibes of eternal sunshine or HER or some such. it should be outrageous, but it really works. that's the beauty of a great fic right there.
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trajectory of trojan asteroids by redpaint (@redpaint) nico/lewis, 3.3k words, rated g
also one of the fics i first read when i hopped on board the f1 rpf train. the pain and poignancy just gets worse the more i learn about brocedes. you know when you're like "there's no way this was reallll" and then you're like "fuck, it was so real". then you get a fic like this that just encapsulates all that rage and loss and grief and upset, set against the starry vista of endless space. *clutches tablecloth* god.
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p.s please bear in mind that these recs are entirely subjective! i enjoy loads of f1 stories but these are the ones that have especially stuck with me for some inexplicable reason.
p.p.s if your fic is on here and you want it taken off for whatever reason, i'm happy to, no questions asked 💛
BYE for now / until part 2. (i also love talking to ppl about fics so pls feel free to send an ask or hit me up in DMs or whatever.)
xoxo, -- wizz
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dromaeocore · 9 months
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For those of you who like the idea of peer respites, I just want to say these are not the only alternatives to the mainstream psych system :] Here's a big ol' list, and many/most of them are peer-run. I live in America, so a lot of this is US-based, but I've tried to make it as internationally accessible as possible!
I'll start with the live-in options. So ya'll already know about peer respites, if you read my latest post about it. There's a few more similar things out there.
Soteria Houses - More long-term (months+) community homes for folks with lived experience of psychosis/similar extreme states, with peer support, that focus on a humane and person-centered approach. Much more freedom & agency than your traditional group home.
Hurdalsjøen Recovery Center - a "medication-free" (aka medication-optional) psychiatric hospital in Norway. Allows patients to choose whether to stay on or taper/remain off psychiatric drugs. Focused on healthy eating, exercise, and recreational therapy options.
Bethel House - Similar to Soteria Houses, a homelike environment in Japan for people with schizophrenia, etc. that focuses on social reintegration.
Organizations, clubs, groups, etc:
Students With Psychosis - A peer support community with programming for students with psychosis
International Map of Hearing Voices/Intervoice networks - Non=pathological support groups for people who hear voices, see visions, etc. US directory, UK directory.
Clubhouse International - Gives people with mental illness opportunities for friendship, employment, housing, educational, and medical services all in one place. Founded by a group of friends who survived a psychiatric hospital together.
Project LETS - A radical approach to peer support and healing that has a disability justice centered approach, giving people with lived experience a voice and focusing on mutual aid. They provide peer mental health advocates, self-harm prevention, and more.
The Mad Society of Canada: A grassroots community of practice that brings together folks who want to provide non-coercive, ethical, survivor-informed mental health services/policy.
Power to the Plurals: Resources and events for people who identify as plural/multiple/systems.
The Wildflower Alliance: Grassroots peer support, training, and advocacy community based in Massachusetts.
Alternatives To Suicide (Alt2Su): Peer support groups that allow people to talk about suicidal thoughts without fear of being committed to the hospital, etc
Trainings:
Intentional Peer Support = Trauma-informed peer support training
Emotional CPR - Trauma-informed mental health support training program for the layperson
Hearing Voices Curriculum: Targeted towards mental health professionals to better understand the experience of hearing voices. Warning: It's expensive!
Cities that have a particularly awesome way of dealing with folks in crisis/with mental illness/etc:
Geel - a farming community where residents welcome people suffering with severe mental illness/distress into their homes and live with them, share work, etc (Edit: apparently Geel is a small city with like 40,000 people and not a farming community lol, I was misinformed. Thanks to @roxbot for the correction!)
Trieste - a city with a community centered system of care that integrates housing and peer support
Warmlines (generally run by peers) and Crisis Lines that don't call the cops: (Most of these are taken from this post by trans-axolotl on Crisis Lines)
Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860, 24/7
BlackLine: 1 (800) 604-5841, has texting options
The Plural Warmline (No number, check the site)
THRIVE: text message line at 313-662-8209, 24/7
Promise Resource Network: (833) 390-7728, 24/7
Project Return Peer Support Network: (888) 448-9777 English or (888) 448-4055 Spanish, hours are Monday through Friday 2:30 PM to 10:00 PM PST and Saturday and Sunday 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM PST
Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line: 888-407-4515, hours are 7pm to 9pm EST Monday through Thursday and 7pm-10pm EST Friday through Sunday
Key Consumer Organization: 800-933-5397, hours are 8am - 4:30pm EST, Monday - Friday.
MBRLC Peer Support Line:  877-733-7563, hours are 4 pm-7:45 pm EST every day. 
US Warmline Directory (unlikely to call cops, but check with the individual line first)
Misc:
CommonGround software - A software developed by Dr. Pat Deegan (an individual who was diagnosed with schizophrenia) that allows clients to communicate their needs to their doctors more efficiently to support shared-decision making with medication.
Open Dialogue- An psychosocial approach to psychiatric services that focuses shared decision-making and dialogue between client, providers, and family (if the client wants family involved), and often more minimal use of medication.
Integrative Psychiatry - A holistic form of psychiatry that focuses on nutrition, exercise, therapy, and psychosocial factors, where medication is just an aspect of treatment. US database of integrative psychiatrists here.
I will also give a somewhat honorable mention to Mobile Crisis Teams. They are a fairly new alternative to the usual "call the cops on your local mentally ill person". They are composed of nurses, therapists, social workers, occasionally peer support workers, etc. They hook the individual up with support/resources - which can often mean forced hospitalization/forced treatment FYI - but it is a step up from being killed by cops. Look up "[city] Mobile Crisis Team" to find out if there is one in your city.
A note: Something being on this list =/= it is perfect, just that it is an alternative to what we've got. So don't come at me, lmao. Feel free to add on if you know of anything else!
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evilminji · 5 months
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(Ironically) Oh My God... ( o.o)
Do... okay, so there are many, MANY religions... JUST here on earth. Right?
Not all of them think there is "an afterlife". Some think there is a NEXT life. Potentially MANY lives. Some also believe in JOURNEYS you must take, to reach THE Afterlife. Or perhaps periods of judgment. Evaluations of WORTH. So forth and so on.
What I am saying is?
There? Are Ghosts who probably just straight up REJECT the premise that they are dead. Oh sure, YOU might be. Or BELIEVE you are. But they KNOW they aren't.
Because The Gods Said So.
Some, are also, AWARE they are Dead. But reject that? All this? This is it. No, no. This is the MIDDLE. They are supposed to GO somewhere. They haven't FOUND it. But when they DO. They will, as a community, make a map for those who follow and head on in! It'll be great!
There are FAITHS in the Zone.
Beliefs that were compatible enough, that they Did Not Die.
And they'd probably like to tell you about it.
Why WOULDN'T they? It was a VERY important part of their daily life, originally. And NOW? Is frankly a Highly Topical Subject, don't you think? The discussion of "is there a God?" Is KINDA important to have, when you're stand outside the gates to SOMEWHERE, and none of who can agree on WHAT is on the other side.
Is it better to stay here? Were we abandoned? Is this a punishment or a blessing? An accident? Freak occurrence? Are there Gods HERE? And if so, does that mean WE can become one? What does that MEAN, if we can?
All HIGHLY important topics to discuss.
But! It's made all the more pressing because? There's all these OTHERS! Who have never even HEARD of your gods teachings. And therefore? Don't know where they are.
They, innocent people, have been TRAPPED HERE, for centuries if not longer. May be condemned to be trapped FOREVER. Anyone with even a scrap of empathy would be HORRIFIED.
The problem is that THEY are horrified too. Think YOU are trapped. And of course, your first impulse is to tell them they are Wrong... but?
Are they?
What if NEITHER of you are Wrong? Elder Beings keep insisting this place is INFINITE. It is therefore ENTIRELY possible, this is a place to simply? Store the place before afterlifes. Like a busy road.
After all, your Gods certainly never mention these new people. And THEIR God (singular, correct? Right.) never mentioned YOUR people. Surely they WOULD have, if it was important!
And such concensus starts to build. Because everyone is trying to move on, pray, ascend, or otherwise do as their holy scriptures told them too. They are ALL rather lost and confused. And UNLIKE those Fight-y violent sorts? THESE fine religious folks are pleasant and sensible.
Even if no one can quite agree. Meh. SOMEONE is right here and I shall live assuming it's me until proven otherwise, respectfully and as the gods preached.
And it's quite literally like religious Fandoms, to make light of things a bit. There is bickering. And "stop that infernal CHANTING, I can't here my self pray!" *chanting grows louder in protest* "ARGH!". And trying to make new, confused ghosts welcome.
It's one of the ZONES within the Zone. Like slowly gravitating towards like, until the Zone itself started to just naturally shuffle them all together in clumps. Like with the academics.
Now why? Do I even bring this up?
Because! I think it would be HILARIOUS if everyone wanted to convert the Newly Crowned Ghost King to THEIR religion, under the belief that he could? As some sort of Holy Divine King, ask GOD(tm) : "Bruh. Wtf are we supposed to be doing? We are SO LOST. Can we have a hint?"
And yeah, half of them are like "just for fiiiive minutes! We can totally kick you out of the Temple afterwords if you don't like it! You totally WILL, obviously, because it's AWESOME. But, like, if you WANT too! Five minutes! Pleeeeeease???"
While the others are just shooting Informative Pamphlets out of alien potato cannons in FULL religious regalia. As Danny flees at full speed. Getting pelted.
Maybe some real weird Space Monk is just ( o-o) *is under Danny's Bed. Makes eye contact when he leans down to look for his shoes* "one of us? One of us?" "How did you even get passed the ghost sheilds?" "The Gods have many paths." "Not helpful! And terrifying! Get out from under my bed." *awkward scurry* 👉👈 "one of us?" "No. Back to the Zone, you know better." *sad mantis-otter Space Monk noises*
Just? As a writer, I am a bastard. And I think Danny should get harrased by Court Officials wanted him to Govern more. It's funny. He is a teenager and doesn't know shit. It's like watching an Esteemed Academic Conference being lead by someone's toddler. They don't know what's going on! But they Sure Are Giving Answers! :D
@hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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dumb-and-jocked · 1 year
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Evan
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“You don’t have to be smart to play sports.”
The night had started out fun enough. The two roommates were complete opposites of each other. He was a nerd, he was a jock. Wesley loved Political Science, Evan loved Sports Science. Evan could watch any sport religiously, Wesley would rather watch the history behind any sport religiously. Wesley was going to graduate with honors, Evan was hopefully going to graduate.
But even though the two appeared to be polar opposites, they got together just fine. Great in fact. They liked spending time together and respected each other’s space. Wesley had started helping Evan with his homework when he could, and Evan had started showing Wesley the ropes of the gym. Evan hated doing his homework, but when Wesley put it as “exercising his brain” it seemed easier. And Wesley hated working out, but every time he saw the 6’3 jock’s muscled body and how it attracted others, he knew he had to work on his own shrimpy 5’6 frame.
But that night, the two had decided to go out to the bars and get drunk. When they stumbled back into their apartment, they were both finally on the long journey home towards soberdom. Wesley couldn’t remember how the conversation had started, but when he had said those words he noticed the shift in the room.
Evan slowly scooted his chair closer, shrinking the gap between the two of them. Even in his stupor, Wesley knew he’d pushed at something.
“Sports take a lot of brains, bro,” Evan started. “It’s a lot harder than you nerds think.”
Taking a slight offense at the dig–even though he was the one who had started it–Wesley decided to engage. “Prove it.”
Evan grinned. “In basketball, a dude’s gotta know which angle to throw the ball from so that it’ll peak at the right moment.”
“Anyone can toss something without thinking too much about it,” Wesley countered. He sat up a little straighter to allow his back and legs to arch out.
“Baseball’s focused completely on timing,” Evan said as he kicked his legs out in front of him.
“Baseball’s focused on hitting a ball with a stick.” Wesley stretched his bulky arms out, feigning boredom while watching how his bis and tris popped.
Evan cracked his ankles. “Football is all about strategy and the ability to work under pressure.”
Wes snorted, placing his hands down on his meaty thighs. “No, that’s just reacting to things happening around you.
“Lacrosse has probably more rules and complications than any game played in America.” Evan watched as Wes blinked a few times before firing back his response.
“The only thing interesting about lacrosse is that it's been here longer than white people.” In his head, the comeback had seemed a lot slicker, but once the words had left his mouth Wesley realized it wasn’t really a retort. He was starting to feel dizzy, thinking the alcohol was maybe coming back for round two.
“And wrestling?” Evan pushed, moving himself a little closer. “The tactics and flexibility those bros display are awesome.”
Wesley hunched forward off the couch and onto the ground, moving forward into a comfortable position on his knees. “Bunch of hot, sweaty men rolling around isn’t really a sport. It’s just porn.”
Evan chuckled as he gripped the carpet with his toes and pulled, shrinking the gap even more. “Soccer’s all about coordinating teamwork between the bros; gotta have communication skills.”
“Dude, everyone knows how to talk by middle school.” Wesley chuckled at his burn, his laughs becoming more guffaw-ish as they continued.
“And swimming requires knowing about aerodynamic functions and the resistances of water.” Evan then popped his Size 14 feet up, now only inches away from Wesley’s body and almost directly beneath his roommate.
“It’s swimming, dude.” Wesley tapped his broad forehead dully. “You just swim bro, ain’t no thought in it.”
“Funny,” Evan remarked. “I’d say the same about you.”
“Huh?” Wesley replied dumbfounded. Before he could think too much about it, Wesley watched as Evan hitched his leg up. The meaty sole was lifted right into his face and suddenly became all Wesley could focus on. With a goofy grin, Evan leaned his head back and simply said the word.
“Sniff.”
With his mouth hanging open, Wesley’s body swayed forward as he took in a breath. The stupefying jockish foot funk seeped into his bloodstream, eliminating anything that promoted higher intelligence. Instead, values centered around despising learning corrupted Wesley’s personality as his new focus became relying on networking and sweet-talking people with his good looks and charming personality.
Evan, figuring his roommate had spent enough time under the influence of his feet, carefully lowered his leg back down and watched as the other male tried to re-enter reality.
“You know, maybe you were right, bro,” Evan said.
“Uh…about what?” Wes replied, scratching his head as he leaned back against the couch, his 6’4 brutish frame positioning itself into a comically Neanderthal-like criss-cross-applesauce posture. He even had a finger scratching at his temple.
Evan chuckled. “Maybe you really don’t have to be smart to play sports.”
Wes released a deep laugh from his belly in response. “That’s obvious, dude–I’m proof!”
Evan smiled as he watched the other jock laugh at his own stupidity, the recovering drunken state probably still having some effect as well. Evan had liked who Wes was before, and he had really needed the tutoring help, but nerds always ended up assuming they were better than everyone else simply due to their intelligence. Sure, the comment was probably made out of an intoxicated state and Evan had probably overreacted. But that was a problem Sober Evan could deal with. Drunk Evan just wanted to sit back, enjoy the situation, and relax.
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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 8 months
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idk if it's still considered "cringe" to be a Nerdfighter/fan of Hank and John Green, but man, if you think it's cringe, you need to take a long look at why you think that.
Nerdfighters are some of the most legit folks out there, and that is in no small part due to the mindset and attitude of compassion, kindness, a hunger to learn, a drive to help others, and a goal to make the world a better place in at least some small way that Hank and John have actively encouraged and cultivated over the last 16.5 years of their channel. Neither the Greens nor Nerdfighteria are perfect, but they all try, in my experience, and literally no one in the world is perfect, so that's all any of us can do.
I appreciate Hank and John and the Nerdfighters so much, and I'm so proud to have, even if it was often absently and from a distance, watched both the brothers and the community grow and develop since those first daily vlogs in 2007.
And if you still somehow think there's something embarrassing or "cringe" about being part of a community that on the whole so embodies and tries to live by the ideas that you can always learn and grow and it's never too late to start, the philosophy of "what we owe to each other" and how we're all in this together and therefore we should try to help each other however we can, the dream of repairing the world and leaving it better for those who come after us than it was when we got here, and the idea that each of us has inherent worth and value simply by being alive?
IDK man, that sounds like a you problem. Might want to consider why that makes you want to cringe at it. Just a thought.
Don't forget to be awesome, y'all.
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ohrudi · 4 days
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Fix: Pets need less Space
TL;DR
with this mod, your pets (cats, dogs, horses) need half of the space for all interactions
this mod improves routing for your pets, escpecially for those clunky horses
compatible with “Interaction on sloped terrain enabler” by nikel23
the pets expansions is required for this mod to do anything
Installation: just put all the files in your packages-folder, the usual way, nothing special required, merging is no problem
Conflicts: highly unlikely, see below for detail
Patch: v1.67/v1.69 (probably works with lower patches as well)
Download
ModTheSims | Simblr | SimFileShare
Hey Simmers, Rudi has a big mod-achievement for you today: it's time for my ninth mod
Just recently I play tested my new awesome house, that's cramped up with clutter and plants all the way up to the roof. I tested the house with my pets and had to realize, that they aren't able to use many of the things I placed for them, cause the spaces are just too tight. Also whenever my familiy tried to interact with their pets, they had to walk through the entire house, cause they had no suitable space left. But no more! With this mod, those issues will forever be a sorrow of the past.
Explanation - how the mod works This mod reduces the space that pets (horses, dogs and cats) need for doing things, similar to my other mods. It does this by overwriting the jig size for each pet interaction. A jig is an invisible object that’s auto placed on the ground, while e.g. two sims are talking to each other. Other sims will walk around the other sims talking, cause the jig (placed under the sims talking) obstructs the routing-way for other sims. By default all jigs are quite big, in most cases even way bigger than they need to be. But if you reduce the jig size by a mod, than those interactions are possible even in tiny over-cluttered rooms. Here an example: Playing guitar has originally a jig, that’s 2x2 boxes/meters big, which meant sims often walk outside the house, cause nowhere is enough free space for this very big jig to place down. I solved this issue with my other mod, by reducing the size of the jig for playing guitar.
Recommended Mods, that further improve routing
Sims need less Space by OhRudi
Guitar needs less Space for playing by OhRudi
Bass needs less Space for playing by OhRudi
Interaction on sloped terrain enabler by nikel23
NRaas GoHere by Twallan
Route Fix v9 by Twoftmama (Login required)
How to install
Installation: just put all the files in your packages-folder, the usual way, nothing special required, you can merge them as well
the pets expansions is required for this mod to do anything
Technical Details
Patch: v1.67/v1.69 (probably works with lower patches as well)
this mod can’t affect animations
this mod can’t affect scripting-errors, that are caught by NRaas-Error-Trap
this mod edits the all jigs that came with the Pets expansion pack
Conflicts: only if you have a mod installed who's editing exactly this resource as well, but I assume that's highly unlikely
use delphys dashboard to check for conflicts
I dearly hope your pets enjoy their new freedom. <3
Additional Credits: A BIG THANK YOU to my lovely Beta-Testers: @SimsC, @CardinalSims and @Nemiga Sims 3 Sound Tool S3PE S3OC @you-will-never-find-me-anymore for letting me use her Bonehilda for my awesome profile picture
AND to this awesome and still alive community of simmers
Happy Simming ^^
made by @OhRudi
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morallyinept · 5 months
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Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.
But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.
A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.
Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)
Chapter Word Count: 5.8k
Series Masterlist
☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻
Chapter notes: Slightly longer chapter as we start to get into the meat of this story as you and Joel are finally on your own together. Nothing too heavy to note. Teeniest, tiniest mention of self-harm.
Enjoy! 🖤
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Previous Chapter
Sleep evaded you cruelly for most of the night. Lucid dreams that were unbidden, clawed at your subconscious mind and were unrelenting in their droves, and attempt to crush, what is left of your fragile mind.
Joel’s youthful face and his hands, ageing right before you until he was a pile of dust at your bloodied boots, blowing away through your fingers in the wind, haunted the delicate membranes of your sleep void inertia.
The sounds of his shaken voice echoed in your ears as he called your name to come back as you slammed hundreds of different coloured doors behind you. Feeling your heart, as it was pulverised into mush in your chest by a sledgehammer that he wielded, with sharp diamonds pouring out of his eyes.
You’re already irritable when you wake fully; your eyes feeling raw like sandpaper has been rubbed over them all night each time you blink. But you suck it up bravely despite the tension making your stomach ache and churn - you have to. 
Endure and survive...
Once suitably awake and clean, outside in the commune the masses are gathering in a buoyant hubbub about the mission. Horses are stacked with supplies, groups are running over their parts to play in meticulous fashion. 
You pass Tommy speaking with a bunch of guys and he nods, tipping his stark, yet grubby, Stetson as he regards you with a tight look. You’re still rocked by his rupturing revelations about Joel.
They still bite ceaselessly at your ankles. 
You catch up with Kelper and the others, sharing a gentle but lingering hug with Guthrie, who's remaining behind with Maria and her fort going on lockdown, due to his injuries.
Taking your hand, he prays silently for you all to return unscathed and you indulge him in his plea to God out of respect; it carries a bleak, yet somewhat reassuring nihilism to some degree. If there is a God up there - although you're sceptical after the stunts He's pulled over the last twenty odd years - but if there is one, you hope he's really listening to Guthrie right now.
This is your family, and losing them is not an option anymore. 
You squeeze Kelper’s hands in your own, then pull him into a binding embrace, choking back faceted tears that threaten to fall and rip down your face with their own jagged edges. But you’re steely in your grit not to let them.
Endure and survive.
He places a lingering kiss on your forehead and then another on your cheek.
"For God's sake, be careful." You plead, your hands refusing to uncoil from his; twisty, bony knots that crush.
"I'm coming back. I promise. So are you." Kelper assures you, and you know that stubborn bastard means it. 
"I love you." You breathe. 
"I know you do. I'm awesome." He replies, and you smile the way you always do when he comes back at you with that overused quip.
You glance back at Max and Sal - at the remains of your small, tattered clan, before you all separate into your assigned teams. Maybe Guthrie’s faith is rubbing off, but you silently pray to God yourself that they all return safely.
Even if it means that you don’t. It's a fair trade. 
You reluctantly approach Joel, taking a sharp intake of breath that chills your teeth, despite the warmth of the sun this early in the morning. The knot in your gut weighs heavier somehow.
It stalls you for a moment; Tommy’s words rattling around your bruised skull, but you push it all down. If Joel wants you to know, he’ll tell you himself.
He's loading up a couple of horses; his broad back stretching out his green, plaid shirt, boosting up the worn leather knapsacks and belting the buckles tightly to the saddles. 
It's abstractly peculiar to just observe him, how his hands work; how they're deft, yet seem so much bigger now than you remember. The horse brays, snuffling as you approach, and Joel pats it gently with those swamping hands. 
"Easy, easy." 
Joel shifts as he sees you, greeting him with a wary hello that sounds as small as you suddenly feel.
“Mornin’,” he replies dully, carrying on with the task at hand robotically. He doesn't look at you, you notice.
The whiskey he drank in abundance last night was a bad idea; his head feels like crushing lead, and despite fading into oblivion for a few measly hours, he’s still tired and jangled. Yammering thoughts of you kept him awake, staring at the ceiling as he willed them to give him some peace. 
It’s like he could make you out, clear as day, floating above him and taunting him even though your apparition never spoke to him. It just stared at him for most of the fucking night; pulling out all of his demons to side with you, and it’s why he can’t look you in the eyes much this morning. 
“He seems like a good man, Tommy says so.” He juts his chin over his broad shoulder to Kelper, startling you a little with the gruff tincture of his voice. 
“He is." You smile. "Saved my ass countless times. And vice-versa.” You explain watching Kelper fade into the crowd with a heavy gut. “Want me to get that?” You point down at the other knapsack and Joel shakes his head. 
“I got it.” He lifts it up, stepping around to the other side of your horse. 
You pet and stroke the horse’s mane; a black mare that nudges her large head into your hands affectionately and you click and coo at her in return.
"She got a name?" You ask Joel. He shrugs and continues loading up. 
She’s a beauty, and it makes you melt that there are still some things that are left untarnished by the fungal rot in the world. 
“How’d ya cross paths?” Joel asks as he attaches the bag onto the saddle. He seems a little disinterested, like conversation with you is hard. But you regale him nonetheless.
“We had a group. Or rather, he did. And soon it became our group. He trusted me enough to let me make decisions, and mistakes, but it grew. We became a family. There were about sixty of us at one point. And now there’s five.” You remark bitterly.
You swallow thickly as you hear the screaming again inside your ears. The mare butts her head against yours as if she can hear it too. 
Joel doesn’t say anymore, pausing to listen to you before he carries on loading up the tan stallion that’s his to ride. 
But the tidal wave of the screaming, the panic, drowns you. The teeth coming at you as you shoot your way through the hysteria. But there are too many to boldly take on and your gun jams. 
Run! RUN!
You remember Kelper's hand on yours, dragging you away. You grab a hold of Guthrie, exchanging the gun for his hand as you let it clatter to the ground that's filling with blood.
You're scrambling through the mottled tree bark. You spy Max and Sal bringing up the rear; white eyes and red faces, as Kelper takes you all deeper into the woods. Infected follow you, hot on your heels as you run; the oxygen waning and setting light to your papery lungs.
Your legs are giving out. Your ankles on fire…
“That can’t happen here.” You shake your head defiantly as you look around the commune coming back to a bleak reality. “What you guys have built and achieved here? Kelper, he won’t let you lose what we did. That's why he’s a good man.” You conclude, speaking as if in a trance.
“S’not enough of them around anymore.” Joel replies stoically. 
“No. There is.” You say, looking at him and he turns away after he catches your intense gaze like it scalds him.
“Wouldn’t be so sure ‘bout that.” He mutters, leaving you to pull apart his toneless words.
After a time of readying the horses, time spent in awkward silence for the remainder between the both of you, Tommy announces for everyone to move out.
You shoot Kelper a small, reluctant wave and he returns it. 
Five days. You can get through five days without him. Endure and survive.
You realise in all the time you’ve known Kelper, you’ve not once been separated from him, and those thoughts grow teeth and start to chomp with all the other gnarly, unsettling thoughts.
“Y’need a boost?” Joel offers as you attempt to get up on the mare.
“No, I got it.” You hook your foot in the stirrup and swing your other leg up and over, mounting the mare confidently. “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.”
You smirk down at Joel who doesn’t smile back. Just shakes his head full of greying tufts, and mounts his stud with a little bit more of an aggrieved effort to get on the damned thing. 
"Do you need a boost?" You smirk as you untangle the reins.
"Don't be a smartass." He grumbles with a deep frown. 
You used to love it.
You wait, with pursed lips, steadying your horse as Joel hacks up beside you. 
“Ya ready?” He asks you and you know inside that you’re anything but.
“Let's do this.” The weight in your gut still weighs you down in there. You're drowning right before him and he's completely oblivious.
You both watch as the other riders head out the gates first. 
“Listen, I don’t suffer fools easily.” He says it coldly, as though you don’t know him, never knew him; as though you’re a stranger to him and you realise that's exactly what you are now.
It’s how he sees you. And the line couldn't be anymore clear as it is thick.
It’s a frank warning that rolls out of his dull, chapped lips and in a baritone that you don’t think you’ve ever heard in his voice before.
This Joel Miller is a complete stranger to you. He's wary of you, suspicious as he eyes you now, finally. That prominent frown creased in at the centre of his brow with brown eyes, that were once warm and inviting, that now coat a layer of ice over your skin.
You shudder as the prickles tear down your spine.
“We gotta communicate, work together. Don’t be foolish n’ take any risks, y'hear me? Ya do what I say when I say it.”
“I hear you, Joel.” You reply, staring straight ahead, teeth grinding. Your grip tightens on the reins.    
“Just lay it on the line. That’s all I ask.” Joel says. 
You wonder if he notices his double entendre. “Unscrupulous honesty it is then.” You smile.
You gulp. You think that he might regret telling you that.   
“We gotta trust each other out there. I know it's been…" he sighs, or runs out of breath; you're not sure which as he trails off.
Then he looks back at you and it pierces you right down to the very core.
"Y’think you can do that?” He asks, with blown out curls billowing in the summer breeze, and you look back at him; at those deep chocolate eyes that are so familiar, yet so alien. 
“I can.” You always trusted him back in the day when trust seemed so frivolous a thing. “I got your back, Joel. You got mine?”
Joel nods once, a small clip of his chin and starts on forward.
Taking a deep breath, you tap the sides of the mare gently with your heels as she trots forward, following after his tan stallion and out of the gates. 
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Riding on horseback it would take half a day to reach outpost three at a steady pace.  
Joel rides slightly ahead; a rifle slung over his shoulder and a pistol in his belt holster. You've been afforded a gun of your own, a Glock, which is tucked in a similar holster on your own belt that Joel had handed to you once out of the gates of the commune.
You remembered turning back, one last look at Guthrie as those wooden gates locked and wouldn't open again until the threat was taken care of. Maria was battening down the hatches. If the infected got past you, if something went wrong, those gates were all that were left stopping them. 
The knapsacks are loaded with supplies; food, water, ammunition, and yours bumps continually against the side of your thigh as the mare trots along. 
The summer heat of a late June beams down on you, warming your scalp and you squint upward, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth.
Stolen moments like this, a few seconds amongst the bloodied chaos, where you could remember to stop and appreciate the small things, is what kept you going throughout all of the carnage, the constant fighting for survival.
So you breathe in the morning air, feel the sun bake your face and appreciate that you're alive for a few seconds, even though some days you wish you weren’t. 
When you open your eyes, Joel is glancing over his shoulder at you, scrutinising carefully; eyebrows pulled together. He turns away when you catch him.
You bristle, feeling the prickles on the back of your neck rise again and you rub them away. 
“So, this is weird, huh?” You challenge with a coy smile. 
“Ride on my left, will ya? I can’t hear what you’re sayin’ to me when ya mumble under ya breath.” Joel replies and you take up position on his left side.
“Jesus, you’re getting old.” You smirk again.
“Crept up on me too fast.” Joel agrees with a sharper frown. His hips jut forward and backwards, balancing his weight on the stallion as you both ride on.
“I was joking.” You snicker. 
“I wasn’t.” He states rather po-faced. “Besides, gun shots. Not age,” he explains pointing to his right ear. 
“And the scar?” You query gently. You’d noticed it on his temple; a faded, spiky flower in stark contrast compared to the caramel tan of his face. 
“S’a story for another day,” he announces, flatly. His voice is as rigid as his posture now becomes. 
But he didn’t need to tell you, not really. You already know what it is.
You recognised it because there had been a moment when you’d wanted to make it all stop too. You have your own scar hidden away under your sleeve which you now tug around your wrist discreetly.
You hadn’t met anyone yet without a story like that, not really. You swallow thickly, pushing down your own painful memories and carrying on. 
Endure and survive.
"I'd ask ya how you've been, but y'know…" Joel mumbles a little while later.
"You can ask me," you smile.
Joel sighs, his face remaining a harsh angle of lines. "How've you been?"
"Joel, what a stupid question." You smirk and he sighs, shaking his head. Like he knew you would say that.
Like he knew you once well enough to know you'd say something like that.
"Still a smartass." You think you hear him mutter. 
You shrug. "I've been… better. I think we all have, right?"
He nods slowly as the horses clip-clop along languidly, side by side. You don't say anything else. Everything seems futile and pointless.
A little while up the way, Joel's horse starts to bray and resist.
"Easy," he ushers to it, but glances up ahead as yours does the same, to see a shadow on the abandoned route. 
"Infected." You confirm. You skin stands on edge.
"I got it," Joel's already dismounting and drawing his rifle around his front as you reach for his horse's reins and shush it gently. 
"You need a hand?" You call.
"I said, I got it." He growls back as he walks forward taking aim. 
The infected spots him and starts to run. Joel fires, but misses. 
"Shit," he grunts as he takes aim again. 
He misses once more, fingers shaky on the trigger as he glances down the length of the barrel to the rabid screeching coming closer. 
"Are you sure you don't want help?" You tease. "Quit dancing and shoot it already."
"M'fine! Stop talkin'!" He calls back as his lips curl over his teeth. He shakes the irritation off, closes his eyes and then takes aim once more. 
The infected falls to the ground before he can press on the trigger; the loud pop from behind startles him.
He turns to see you now stood a few steps back with the smoking barrel of your Glock at arm's length, and a wily smirk cocked at him. 
"Best shooter in Jackson, huh?" You tease him. 
"I said, I got it!" He bites at you, storming back to his horse. 
"Mmhm," you simply reply, trying not to laugh, but the murderous look clouding his features warns you off. "Just took the shot," you shrug. 
But his glare burns you out from the inside.
"Didn't need ya interferin'. Been doin' just fine all this time without ya!" Joel bites.
He mounts and rides away furiously, leaving you to dissolve completely away under the acid of his snarls. 
Fuck. 
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Time rides with you both and you don’t talk.
Just an uncomfortable, suffocating silence that grows bigger, expands wider like a chasm. It hovers around you pushing against your skull. 
You want to fill it with something, anything. But words don’t come.
Everything you want to say sounds stupid, futile even. You wish you knew a good joke to break the ice, but don’t. He probably wouldn't laugh anyway. 
Lips pursed, teeth gnashing, Joel stares icily ahead. A unbroken and insurmountable presence beside you that seems unconquerable.
But then after a while, when it’s been almost an hour since he last spoke to you, or acknowledged your existence, still clearly sulking, you decide to be brave.
Or stupid.  
“Do you… remember?" You begin keeping your eyes on the route ahead.
"'Member what?" He mutters. 
"Us. What we were like back then?” You ask tentatively. 
Stirring up the ghosts of your past probably isn’t a wise idea, but faced with the prospect of being cooped up with Joel for the next five days, as daunting as it is, is a chance to say some things that are so unspoken.
Even if they would re-open wounds long sealed shut.  
Joel sighs and it's a long one. It feels heavy, even to listen to it. It pulls you under, face first and holds you down, ensuring that you won't ever resurface as your lungs fill with swamp water.
"Let's not talk 'bout that. Just get to the outpost." 
"Fine." You say despondently.
Evidently, he's still mad at you for taking the shot. Some primal pride of his was wounded no doubt, but equally you're hurt that he probably thinks you're too gung ho.
And you probably are; gotta get them first before they get you, right? It's the embedded mantra on how you've survived for so long, and what makes you a good shot - you've had plenty of practice.
But then, you always were impulsive to some degree. Slapdash. Making decisions before you'd really thought through any consequence. Even the ones that still haunt your blood now. 
You run your tongue around your teeth and reach for the water bottle tucked in the knapsack. 
"You thirsty?" You ask him as you offer it out to him and he shakes his head vehemently. Again you sigh. 
"I'm sorry, okay? I saw a chance and I took it."
"Stop talkin'." Joel grunts. 
You shrink back, falling a few paces behind as he rides on forward, determined and with a tension that winds his broad shoulders tight, hunched.
You stare at his back, zoning out for a few minutes, your mind wandering in territories that it's not welcome in. Remembering, unwillingly, as you'd nuzzle into his back after he'd had a hard day at work; his hands blistered and sore.
How you'd wrangle the tension and knots out of those shoulders, and he'd throw his head back so you could get to his scalp. Weaving and raking your fingers across his head and listening to all the sounds he'd emit, the low groans and the throaty gasps as he melted under you.
Mmm, just like that, darlin'. Yeah...
Joel would melt like hot butter poured in your lap. 
"Wait here," he says, snapping you out of your recall. He dismounts and you see him wander off the path.
You take the reins of his horse, trekking up beside it. "Where are you going?" 
He doesn't answer. You watch him disappear off the road, bleeding into a small copse of trees until his shadow disappears fully out of sight.
Sighing, you look up to the sky, thinking that being paired up with Joel was probably the worst idea.   
These five days are going to be absolute Hell.
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He returns a few minutes later, wiping his hands at the back of his jeans and stepping through the underbrush with eyes focused like a laser beam on the ground.
You both carry on, with your mouth zipped firmly shut. 
But Joel can hear your forced silence like it's deafening his one good ear. Feel you, like you're jabbing him constantly in the gut.
And he can't turn it off.
The same as he can't turn off those hazy, sepia memories rearing their ugly heads as they flood through his aching muscles, feeding them with pink fleshy life.
You've polluted him again, ripped a hole in his head, and he's forced to confront it, even if every compulsion in his body wills him to just ride away from you.
Because it's better than the alternative that pulls at his longing curiosity. Better than letting you seep in through the tiny, hairline cracks.
“Y'were fast." He says suddenly and you glance at him. He keeps his eyes on the road ahead as you continue to trot along together.
"Everythin’ was so fuckin’ fast with ya. I couldn’t keep up."
You smile; a supernova bursting inside your chest and rendering your vital organs to dust.
"Y'were right to leave me behind.” He concludes bitterly.
You feel relieved that he does remember you. It makes that weight in your stomach feel lighter somehow. But the end of his sentence adds salt into the weeping wounds.
“I wanted the world.” You muse. At one point, you believed you would conquer it. You failed. 
“How’s that workin’ out for ya?” He side-eyes you with warm mocha browns that you want to dive head first into. 
“I mean, the world is still here. Just looks different now.” You say, glancing down at dandelions and overgrown shrubs that are slowly taking back the path.
“You’ve not slowed down.” He observes. "Still fuckin' impatient." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head again. 
“Old habits die hard, I guess.” You reply. 
"You’re different.”
You look at him as he looks back at you, studying you carefully. 
"I've gotten old too." You smile.
“No. Not that." Joel says, looking away. "You’re exactly the same as I ‘member, but just...”
“You remember me, huh?” Your breath catches in the back of your throat. 
“Ya kinda made it impossible to forget ya, darlin’." 
The warmth engulfs you and you smile wider at this, cheeks on fire, remembering the whimsy in the pet name that he always used for you. Remembering how it made you feel all that time ago, and how it still makes your chest flutter even now as it rolls off his lips like the decades haven't existed between you. 
How he can carelessly toss affection at you, despite everything.
“You were never mine, back then. Not really." You say flippantly.
"No, I was." Joel corrects as he clears his throat and frowns again. "But we were young n’ stupid.” He surmises with a shrug of his own. He keeps his eyes in front still. 
You nod in agreement. “We thought we knew a thing or two about love, didn’t we? We were arrogant. But it still broke my heart to lose you back then, Joel.” You admit, your voice is a strangled whisper, barely surviving.
Your fingers relax a little on the reins, realising you’ve been twisting them this whole time tightly and your palms burn. "I'm sorry. That must sound weird after all this time. After everything…" 
You trail off when Joel doesn't speak. 
The two of you continue along like the last few minutes of conversation hasn't happened. Both mulling it over quietly. Probably regretting it.
Joel knows he has said too much, and he's frantically wishing he could cram the words back into his mouth and swallow them down again. But he can't. And neither can you. The admissions are out there now, battering you both around the skulls.
"What was it like for ya?" He asks tentatively. "When it happened?"
"The outbreak?" You query.
"Yeah."
"Tough." You reply, willing your mind not to relive it, but it does anyway just to spite you. "I was in Waco, visiting mom. Didn't plan on staying too long, but I got a call. She'd passed before I got back though. Dementia."
"M'sorry."
"No it's… it was better that she went that way, considering. Peaceful... I was packing back up to leave a few days later. And then it all went to shit. It happened so damn fast. I barely got out."  
Joel's question pulls it all out of you with dripping, red threads. 
You swallow hard and you feel it graze. "When I think about it now, it's like… I'm watching someone else. Someone with my face. Someone who did-" You take in a deep breath, catching at the back of your throat before you swallow it down. "-Someone who did some questionable things to get here, to get to today." 
Joel nods, but doesn't add his own recall of that day. From the look on his face you decide not to ask him about it either. 
"But I remember what it was like before that. Life. What it could be again someday." You shake your head despondently. "I remember you." You say with a thin smile offered in repentance.
“We were together n’ sometimes I forget the rest of it.” Joel mutters. 
You feel that heated warmth creep over your cheeks and nose. “Me too.”
A small, tight smile tugs at the corner of his pale pink lips. “Y'could barely stand me in the end.”
“Eh. I can barely stand you now.” You remark with a grin.
He shakes his head, chuckling inward silently. “Don’t matter. You’re here. Y'made it. I always knew ya had some brass cajones.”
Joel glances you from the side, turning his head slightly. Those lips of his stretched a little further, on the verge of a full beam which he keeps restrained from fully breaking free. 
“Bigger than yours."
He scoffs. 
"You made it, too. But, you’re stuck with me for the next five days, Joel.” You tease.
The smile dips back into his cheeks, a crescent moon dimple forms on the left side. “I think I’ll manage. I've endured far worse.”
You smile and continue to ride beside him. Those hot prickles on your neck are covering your whole body now.
“S’fuckin’ crazy world, right?" He mumbles it, sharpshooting the words into the wind as they circle back and blow in your face. 
"Amen to that." You smile and you see the flash of that crooked smirk you remember widening on the side of his mouth as he finally loses all restraint to keep it at bay. 
There he is. 
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“Should be there soon,” Joel announces a few hours later. 
The grasses are longer, more unruly and nature has taken back the land fully here it seems.
It's eerily beautiful and your eyes fall onto all the wild flowers swaying in the breeze and getting tangled in the brambles; the scents of them tickling your nose.
You lower your hand through them as the mare crosses through the grasses. Plucking one or two on your way and bringing the petals to your nose to inhale before letting them fall free again. You plant some of them affectionately in the mare's silken mane, enthused in your handiwork.
“Y'always did like flowers,” Joel says, remembering.
He remembers the bunches he would pick for you each week just because they were pretty and reminded him of you; the pink expensive ones he brought on your birthday and you cooed gratefully, planting smackers over his cheeks enthusiastically. 
You throw a soft beam back at him, remembering too.
You travel on the back roads, deserted highways where the forests have encroached over the tarmac fully. Places where the past ills of humanity have been eaten up by Mother Nature and regurgitated into something wildly free and lushly green.
Perhaps the way it was always supposed to have been.
Your journey has remained free of anymore roaming infected. But you’re keeping a furtive look out; scanning the tree lines beside you as you both ride along in some more stoic silence. 
But it seems less daunting and sharp now.
You stop for a while to eat, to let the horses rest. Joel picks around a couple of burnt out cars on the road as he keeps busy and refuses to be still. A constant hurricane swirling. 
But Joel surprises you, a little later, speaking more freely when you probe gently about his life prior to Jackson. Thinking he would shut you down, yet he tells you about Ellie. Mostly about Ellie.
Very briefly and with no detail about someone he knew for a long time called Tess, with a gritted jaw that doesn't unclench, so you ask no further about it. He tells you nothing detailed, and strangely in not so many words. 
But you sense she meant more to him that he reveals. The way his eyes mist over, as he dwells alone in the darkness of his thoughts, pulls at your gut.
He never mentions that night; the outbreak. Never mentions Sarah. And you don’t bring her up either, even though you know more than you think he'd want you to.
It feels intrusive somehow, holding this terrible secret over him, even if he's not aware of it's strength that you unwittingly possess. A part of you resents Tommy for filling you in so dutifully.
Ignorance is bliss, after all.
“Where's Ellie now? Sounds like you two have quite the bond.” You ask as you eat with your legs drawn under yourself. 
“She has a girlfriend. Can’t keep her in one place for long these days. She visits. S’not far from Jackson, in another place they've set up. Think I was startin’ to cramp her style.” The frown returns. “She should have her independence… A normal life.” Joel explains, although you can see it pains him in some way to be apart from her, as his brow furrows further until it swallows most of his face.
“Nothing is normal anymore, Joel.”
“Y’know what I mean.” He lances a stare at you, like you're immature and don’t know shit about this world, just like Ellie doesn’t. And in some ways he’s probably right about that. 
“Young love, huh?” You surmise, wistfully. 
“S'kinda beautiful.” He says, recalling a private memory as he stares off into the distance.
You secretly hope that it’s one of you both together, wondering which one he would pick as his favourite. Yours is when he first told you he loved you; his sweaty face above yours after an intense mutual climax, and he just blurted it out into your face, and inside of his deep brown eyes, you knew he meant it.
He told you again in the morning over breakfast. And when he dropped you off home in his beat up car. 
And everyday after that, until he stopped.
“What about you, have you met anyone special in Jackson?” You pry on with numbing fingers through the dirt. 
Joels snorts rather pugnaciously. “No. S'’better that way.”
He finally approaches and sits on the ground adjacent to you but keeps a subtle distance; you hear his knees creak.
“What ‘bout you? You n’ Kelper… Y’have some history or present?” Joel asks curiously after a while. 
He can’t help himself. Not when he remembers catches you glancing forlornly as Kelper walked away with Tommy that morning, and he feels the stagnant whiskey toss around in his squally gut.
“You’re more Kelper’s type than I am.” You remark back with a wry smirk. “He likes 'em rugged.”
"Ah." Joel nods and you think you see him blush for a second.
You shake your head. “There was someone, years ago now, nothing serious, but it’s hard to hold onto something in this world when it’s constantly trying to rip you apart, right?” 
Joel picks idly at the grass, wrenching blades from their roots with his gnarled, thick fingers. You watch him do it, remembering what those fingers felt like as they danced upon your skin in an era long since departed. 
“D’you believe in fate?” Joel asks later as you’re both saddled back on the horses, and you're taken back by the question that is so out of character for him. 
You recall a memory of you trying to convince him to have a tarot reading at a fairground, and him telling you in no uncertain terms that all that chick, crystal shit was bullshit. We make our own damn fate, darlin'.
You smile, as you can hear him now, echoing somewhere in the back of your head.
You ponder for a second and realise that in this world, a world that has taken so much, that fate and destiny still weave their magic realism through the murk and rot.
How else can you explain finding Joel again like this?
“Yeah. I do. Explains why we've found each other again, right?”
Joel nods back. “Would have found ya regardless.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” You scoff.
“‘Cause, you’re not somethin’ that's so easy to lose.” Joel states, carelessly throwing words at you again. “Broke my heart back then too.”
You stop riding as it sucker-punches you.
The mare slows down as you pull on the reins, and it takes him a few trots to realise you’re not following before he stops and turns back to you on his stallion with a blank face. 
“I looked you up, you know?” You admit with watery eyes. 
“Y'did?” He baulks.
“Yeah. Heard you’d relocated back to Austin. I drove for hours to your house one day. I… I wanted to knock on your door so fucking badly. Beg you to take me back. Tell you that you were right. That I was an idiot. But I couldn’t.” 
You recall it in all its vivid, scaly form; gripping the steering wheel so tightly at the time, amping yourself up to knock and tell him you were an idiot, that you didn’t want the world if he wasn’t in it exploring it with you. 
It had been a while since you’d walked away from him. Calling him immature, indecisive and holding you back. But seven years later and you were the one crawling back, trying to plug that gaping hole where you’d pushed him out of your life, and for what? Everything you’d left him for hadn’t been worth it.
It was all hollow somehow without him.
Your eyes focused on the muscular body that came out of the house that day. A late-twenties, early thirties-something Joel, with darker facial hair; a more stockier build. He'd filled out in all the right places. You'd reached for your car door latch with your blood thumping in your ears. 
And then a small girl, with wild curls, followed out after him. Dancing around his legs with a lilac backpack as he loaded her up in the car after terrorising her with smooches as she squirmed away giggling.
Her laughter still haunts your blood.
Your heart had sank, drowning in your stomach acids and being burned up by them until there was nothing of it left. Joel was a father now and you couldn’t intrude on that.
How could you dare to try to invade his settled life and expect him to put you first? You were so fucking selfish.
You drove away that day, vowing not to look back as hot tears seared your cheeks as they fell in abundance. To let yourself move on. But you never really did. He was the one who got away. 
Correction; the one who you stupidly let go of. 
Joel’s mouth dips. “Wasn’t the right time.” 
“No, it wasn’t. We had our time.” You tap the mare lightly with your heel and she trots forward. You wipe your eyes. discreetly, refusing to let him see. He can't know how it tore you to shreds to see that he’d moved on and was happy without you.
But it was your own doing.
“Maybe I should’ve fought harder to keep ya around. Perhaps if I had, things would've been different…” You hear Joel surmise into the air.
You shake your head. “No, the world was always going to end, Joel.” 
“That’s not what I meant,” he gruffs. 
“I know.” It’s bittersweet, but you know. Even if it lacerates you and leaves you bleeding, dying.
“But y’were happy, ya had a happy life, before all this?” He queries. Something shines inside his own eyes, something hopeful. 
“As happy as it could be.” You confirm. You recall pockets of feeling content for a short time. But it never lasted. No-one could replace him, not really.
“Good. Y'deserved that.” Joel says. 
“So did you.” 
He was the one that you’d let slip away whilst you chased your own idle, selfish dreams. The one who haunted you throughout life. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he happy wherever he was? 
Did he miss you like you missed him?
Joel Miller would have given you the world that you were so desperate for, but you never gave him the chance to. It only pained you now that it was too late. So much time and energy wasted for too long, and for what?
Now Joel was just another rupture in your life, a clot that would be your ultimate undoing. 
He carries on trotting as do you, riding beside him as his broad shoulders obscure the sun that’s blinding you and suddenly burning you up, eviscerating your being. 
“Fate knew somethin’ we didn't.” Joel mumbles. 
You don’t say anything else.
You just ride, feeling more and more empty, as you and Joel both carry on forward in a silent agreement that fate, is indeed, a fucking cruel sadist. 
To be continued...
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wis-art · 7 days
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Always an outsider
I always feel like an outsider no matter where i am, where i go. Outsider to the country i live in, outsider to the languages i speak, outsider to my own country, outsider to my own language, outsider to the culture i participate in, outsider in the language of my work, outsider to other women, always feeling unlike those around me and those who i was raised with. I am a transgender woman who emigrated early in my adulthood I have a thick accent when i speak swedish. It's strange how hard it is to consider myself as part of any group. Disconnected from the polish language and often feeling like i am not recognized as a fellow woman, just some kind of imitation. It's tiring, and i can feel it without any words being spoken directly to me. Not to mention the distinct feeling of NOT being swedish in sweden of being an immigrant, being from somewhere else. Regardless of my reason to come here, there is many who came here without any other real choice. It sucks. Feeling like i'm always at fringes of society it really does suck. My actions always supervised by everyone else. Always feeling the need to prove myself for my ability to stay here and within whatever community i am a part of. Always under extra scrutiny. Always used as political tool, to fearmonger, to gain sympathy, undermining me and those like me as a person and people. After all i'm just an outsider. I do struggle to find my place in this world, and often think about who I REALLY am. It feels like i'm living my life directionless. The only loose thread keeping it all together is making gay art online. Which is awesome and i am very grateful for the following i garnered, i am surprised 9000 people want to see my drawings. They do come from heart. And thank you for supporting me financially and by simply reblogging my art. I am trying to get medicated and go on therapy for many of my mental illnesses lol. There's no real silver lining in this post, I'm just tired. But like my friend said, You are transgender you have to live.
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chaotic-archaeologist · 8 months
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got a question for ya regarding sex and online safety.
Background; I am an adulty adult. I have been able to and have voted in more than 3 elections. [I know you take interactions with minors seriously]. I am also ace and autistic. as a result I have never felt the urge to date and I normally don't mind having friends close by.
However, I also just moved for the 4th time since 2019 and would like to meet people.
So I downloaded Grindr. already got my first dickpic lol. I have also been chatting with a fellow who I like and would like to be friends with and I also wouldn't mind exploring my kinks with people... but I have never had to worry about safe online sexy stuff before so I don't know the basics beyond normal internet safety.
What do I do‽‽‽
Okay first, thanks for clarifying the adulty part. This is an awesome question, and here's the advice/steps that I personally follow for situations like this.
Have your first meeting in a public place. Go for coffee or ice cream or lunch or dinner or whatever. But don't meet them alone. This way, if you get uncomfortable with anything that's happening, they're much less likely to continue with that behavior after you attempt to extricate yourself.
Make sure there are no expectations. Plan not to have sex on the first date/meet up. Grindr often tends to ignore this rule since it's very hookup centric, but you're absolutely within your rights to insist on taking things as slowly as you want to.
Don't rely on the other person for transportation. If you choose to meet someone, get yourself there and plan to get yourself back. Walk, bike, drive, public transportation, unicycle, it's all good. But there's much less room for pressure if you're not depending on them for a ride home. This segues nicely into my next point:
Do not tell them where you live. At least, not right now. Plenty of people on Grindr are willing to "host" meaning you can come to their place. That's fine for them, but I err on the side of never giving anyone my address until I've had a thorough chance to assess their character and meet them a few times.
Tell someone where you will be. Let someone who cares about you know that you're going out, where you'll be, and what time you expect to return. Establish a time to check in when you're going home/if you choose to extend the meeting. There are also apps like Noonlight that can function similarly.
Be careful about what you consume. If you're going to enjoy and mind alternating substances, be very, very careful. This goes for anything from getting drinks at a bar to any and all of the recreational drugs on the market.
Be prepared for a little bit of awkwardness. Meeting someone in person is often very different than chatting online. If the conversation is awkward or halting, that's okay. Give it a little time (but also don't be afraid to trust your gut if it's telling you something is wrong).
Communicate clearly. If you have any needs—which can range from an allergy, not being able to stand for long periods of time, needing them to speak loudly so you can hear them, safety concerns—the best way to get those met is to be upfront. You don't need to disclose the reason why you need something if it makes you uncomfortable, just state what you need. People worth spending time with will respect that. The same thing goes for your wants.
Use protection. Maybe this isn't applicable for you specifically, but I think it belongs on this list. Condoms. Dental dams. Gloves. Someone on an app telling you they're negative for any number of things is not an actual guarantee they're not lying to you. Not wanting to use protection (not just for anal/vaginal intercourse, but for oral sex as well) is a huge red flag. Decide in advance what your boundaries are and stick to them.
If it sucks, hit da bricks. Fundamentally, you owe this person nothing. There is no consequence for saying "you know what, I'm not feeling this and I'm going to leave." Be as polite as you want to, but put yourself first.
At the end of the day, the only thing you have control over is you. How you react, where you meet this person, what you do—that's what you control. Hopefully any meet ups will be fun and relatively safe, but just in case, set yourself up for success by maintaining what control you can.
From one adult to another, these are all suggestions rather than rules. Many people on Grindr choose not to follow various ones, and that's fine. Take some time to think about what you're comfortable with and make your decisions accordingly.
Also, best practice for someone sending an unsolicited dick pic (if you don't want them) is just to block that person. But sending a return picture like this one is a hilarious option.
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-Reid
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motherofflies · 25 days
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Kid and Killer are both awesome and they share such a deep bond ❤️. Might not have one without the other. I keep thinking about what it would be like to have a love triangle with Kid and Killer. What would that look like and who would play which role in the relationship?👀🔥🔥🔥😋
☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★
I agree, I definitely don’t think you could have one without the other. They are two sides of the same coin, the same soul split in two. That dynamic is what makes the idea of a love triangle so interesting with them because it’d be a constant push and pull, both of them so stubborn and unrelenting so that the other could have their chance with you.
As far as instigating the whole thing, it could result from either of them at any given time though I don’t see them being the type to actively seek out a relationship. It’s far more likely that a mutual attraction spontaneously occurs similar to what happened with Victoria and when it does inevitably happen, Kidd and Killer are locked in before they even fully realize its going on.
Perhaps it starts with some increasingly intimate interactions in the common areas of the ship, maybe some out of place compliments given by a red-faced Kidd or an unusually talkative Killer. If you happened to be a non-member of the crew, prepare to be asked to join and don’t even attempt to decline as they’ve already sunk their teeth deep into you when it comes to that point. They wouldn’t force you to be with them romantically, but they’re very protective of those they care about and would want to ensure your safety from the haven of the ship.
Kidd might notice that Killer has gotten comfortable around you rather quickly, especially if he’s talking more or allowing you to occupy the kitchen while he cooks, but Killer certainly knows that Kidd is smitten way before Kidd is ready to acknowledge those feelings himself. Kidd’s demeanor is far too open and boisterous which makes his ‘subtle’ changes in behavior that much more obvious, especially since he and Killer know every little thing about one another.
If you maintained a level interest in them both, there would be some inner dialog that makes them question whether you’re being friendly or if you’re actually flirting with them as it seems. This is where the mutual pining would come into play (more on that here) as they may grow a bit distant to see if you’ll seek them out on your own. If they didn’t know about each other’s feelings before, it becomes glaringly obvious when they notice that the other is intentionally avoiding you.
They’d slip away to Kidd’s workshop or their cabin to talk about what exactly is going on, from there it all gets laid out on the table. The major issue that you’d face is that they both value the other’s happiness so much that they’d willingly let you go for the sake of the other. Killer is specifically affected by this sentiment as he has such heavy self image issues and wouldn’t be confident that you’d want to be with someone like him in the first place.
When you can’t ignore their sudden polarization anymore, you seek council from some of your closest crewmates who have sat back and watched the whole thing unfold at a painfully slow pace. Any doubts or insecurities you have would be quickly diminished as they’d reassure you that both Kidd and Killer are interested, they’re just silly little guys who don’t know how to properly communicate their feelings. This could be where the option of a polycule is presented. They’re both wonderful men and realistically, who could choose between them?
They would be open and accepting of the idea, but I don’t see their dynamic changing much at all. They’d still be partners in that platonic soul-mate way and you’d be their new little partner, the platonic aspect of their relationship being completely lost when it comes to you.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
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It would be awesome if you could recommend some solo ttrpgs! I've been getting into them a lot lately and want to know more of what's out there. Especially journalling ones, as I enjoy creative writing. So far I've looked into (and will probably buy soon) Firelights, Apawthecaria, and Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop.
Also, I love this blog a ton. Already there have been some awesome games I've learned about from you, including the one you're currently working on. Excited to give it a try sometime! Keep being amazing 💜.
Theme: Solo Journalling Games
Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm certainly excited to run Protect the Child for folks, play-testing it so far has been really fun!
As for your ask, solo games and journalling go hand in hand. These next few games are just a sampling of what I've added recently to my Solo Games folder on Itch.
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Cats Know Things, by Mushroom Witch Games.
CATS KNOW THINGS is a light-hearted game meant to tell a humorous story of intrigue, all while pretending to be a very nosy cat. 
But you are no ordinary cat.
You are a very special feline who, through some magic you cannot explain, can communicate with your human, an individual who wishes to make their mark in society by any means necessary. The two of you decide to start a society page, (a very fancy type of tabloid newspaper dedicated to a particular location) revealing the glitz, glamour, and inner turmoil of the town’s most notable individuals. 
Use a d6 and a d10 to generate numbers, and sneak into places to listen into secret or private conversations. Then bring this news to your human companion, so that they may relay this gossip in the local society page. You need to find 6-8 scintillating stories before the week is up, so that your human has enough to print.
If you want a game full of scandal and cute furry little rumour-mongers, this might be the game for you!
Lingering, by Meghan Cross.
The last thing you remember, you were dying.
Now, breath fills your lungs once more and your eyes open, slowly shifting side to side as you attempt to regain your bearings. You are alive. But you are…changed. Your human form is gone, and in its place is one that is different, foreign, animal…
In Lingering, you play as a person who has died, only to find yourself alive again in an animal form, unable to move on to your eternal rest until you settle business left unsettled from your life. 
Throughout the course of a game, you will make several attempts to communicate with a chosen human, hoping to convey a message to them so they can assist you and help you move on once and for all. 
This game uses a deck of cards and some guiding adjectives to determine how your attempts at communication will go. Over eight rounds, you’ll flip cards while guessing as to whether each card will be higher or lower than the previous one, and a successful guess means a successful interaction. The details of those attempts are what you’ll be journalling, and Lingering provides a number of questions that you might try to answer with each attempt.
This game takes place over eight rounds, so it’s excellent if you want a short, contained game. It also has a two-player option if you want to try this game out with a loved one.
Dragon Dowser, by HatchlingDM.
Dragon Dowser is a solo journaling RPG using the Carta SRD by Peach Garden Games. You play a mysterious character known as a 'Dowser'. Your aim is to locate abandoned dragon eggs and return them to your Sanctuary. If you succeed before expending your resources, the hatchling you rescue will be reared to change the kingdom forever! 
This is a lovingly crafted game that uses card suits to represent four different kinds of ways your character will be tested, as they interact with different cultures, explore new landscapes, and dea with various conflicts, both human and nature-made.
You’ll travel across a grid of cards that provide you with journaling prompts as you travel. You’ll expend resources to overcome obstacles, looking for a dragon egg, represented by an Ace! Once you return this egg to a sanctuary, you’ll journal about your experience of raising the hatchling. Based on the games you’ve mentioned so far, I think Dragon Dowser is right up your alley.
EDEN, by blasez-faire.
You are Judaiah Clark, the Head Botanical Researcher at the Southern Sector of Eden. You are here for exactly 10 days, and were a last minute choice after the sudden disappearance of ■■■■■■ ■■■■■, the last person to hold this position. You are not here for work. Investigate.
EDEN is a single-page game that takes place over the course of 10 in-game days, with two questions that you will have to answer in your journal for every day. You are expected to write up a report with detailed notes, so much of the extrapolation taken from each pair of questions is going to come from your own imagination. To help with this you might want to come up with names for other characters, draw a map of the Southern Sector, or go into detail about the plants that this research station grows.
One thing is for sure - this is going to be a horror story. If you like games that give you a lot of room to stretch your creative wings, and you also like writing terrible endings for your characters, you might like this game.
Black Mountain Numbers Station, by Simon de Vet.
You wake one morning to the sound of a voice on the radio reading a series of numbers. On impulse, you jot them down. These numbers will become your life.
Black Mountain Numbers Station is a one-page, solo-journaling game about a mysterious broadcast, and about finding patterns in randomness. Using a unique dice mechanic to prompt you to describe your journey, you will tell a short story of obsession, frustration, and discovery.
This game is uses a 6x6 grid with boxes that you’ll need to fill when you roll a pair of dice. You’ll trigger evens when you roll doubles or find a certain pattern on the grid as you fill it, and in both of these cases, you’ll write special journal entries. The game ends when you fill your Frustration track, which symbolizes listening for too long without learning anything new. What exactly you learn, however, is up to you.
Bound, by K Ramstack.
Bound is a single player setting agnostic game about the connection between two people as they travel to a destination through the destruction of the world on a journey they will most likely not complete.
You will create two characters, their relationship to one another, the destruction that haunts them, and the motive for them to move forward.
During the game, you will be asked to write scenes in first person, switching perspectives between characters, and using their personality traits and subjective conceptualizations of each other to answer prompts.
Bound has a single and two-player version, and uses two decks of playing cards, one for each character. Each card will relate to a prompt on the prompt table, but only the highest ranked prompt will be answered. Each prompt will ask a question about the relationship, and how it changes.
If you want a deeply emotional game with a beautiful layout and lovely art, this is the game for you.
The Narrator Paradox, by psychound.
The Narrator Paradox is a one page solo-narrating game where you try to tell a story … if your protagonist will let you. In it, you determine the five acts of your story based on an oracle, then make rolls for your plot beats to see if you can wrangle your protagonist into the prescribed narrative. If you can't, they defy you and take the story into their own hands. Wrestle the story into shape against a rebellious hero, or lose them forever and have to finish the story without them in it. 
Using the Major Arcana of a tarot deck, two six-sided dice and a coin, The Narrator Paradox has a number of different ways that you’ll try to keep your story on track. However, with so much randomness, your protagonist is sure to have a mind of their own. This feels very much in tune with how many writers talk about their characters as if those characters have their own desires, so if you’ve ever related to that you might enjoy this game.
Also Check Out...
My Solo Games tag! I use this tag for every recommendation post specifically for solo games.
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