#chekhov

imagination (1963) - harold ordway rugg

finally here i share my

🫀 revolutionary books set🫀

which includes vintage covers and original inside pages for a series of mostly leftist /theoretical and some literary irl books! titles include the communist manifesto, gender trouble by judith butler, women, race & class by angela davis, orientalism by edward said, tolstoy's anna karenina, v for vendetta original comics, and many more.

fully functional and FREE!

all books have in-game effects: either skill increase or focused, inspired, flirty, or energized moodlets.

skills include logic, charisma, and research and debate

should be mostly base game compatible (but lmk if not and i'll do my best to address it), research and debate skill ones require Discover University EP

they are divided between leon's books and constance's books, since i created them primarily for my own and @chiamomo 's gameplay (constance is her OC). see below for the in-game previews:

but if your sims feel more literarily inclined, then i direct you to:

i made much fewer books for constance because the sims 4 already has a surprisingly wide selection of base game books about music, poetry, and parody versions of various irl literary classics that constance would be interested in reading. i felt a need to make leftist books particularly because there was none in the game (not surprisingly lol).

✨ download all here ✨

@alwaysfreecc

also shout out to @simkatu for creating such wonderful reading animation overrides for the sims 4!!

I finally finished crocheting the entire crew of the enterprise!

It really wasn’t Stan’s fault. He had to make that clear. Honestly between Ford’s messy ex? Demon? Supervillain situation, the whole country hunting him on all sides and his own big identity reveal, it was no wonder something like this would slip his mind. After all, he hadn’t been safe nor stable enough to bring it up before and he’d had to face all of Ford’s wrath/coddling once everything came to light.

Unpacking all that, healing up from a near 60ft drop which he luckily cushioned in the Knick of time thanks to… (he couldn’t even say excogitate’s real name without laughing I mean Fiddles-Ford, C’mon that just writes itself).

So just remember, he’d had a LOT on his plate at the time and juggling all of that had taken some real mental effort on his part. It probably didn’t help that he was also trying to be a single father on top of it all, or that he’d been storing his baby in his glove box to keep him safe from Bill. But! He had his reason’s… really good reasons, that he couldn’t seem to remember as he stared down the metaphorical barrel of the gun.

Ford’s gun to be exact.

Metaphorically.

It had all started on a random Tuesday, having spent his time like every morning he’d done since he began living it up in Ford’s research centre-turned-hostel. Slipping into his glove box (very gracefully for a guy with a broken arm mind you) and grabbing everything he’d need for Ashford’s morning routine.

Nappies? Check

Wipes? Check

Change of clothes? Check

Formula? Check

Ashford asleep in his portable bassinet, wearing the cutest little ducky onesie? Check

Stanford staring at him from the doorway? Check

Stanford. In the door way. Double Check?

Stan met his eyes, the little tune he’d been whistling dying in his throat as he froze in the face of this startling discovery.

He’d completely forgot to tell Ford about his nephew, hadn’t he?

Maybe if he didn’t move Ford would think he was dreaming.

Oooh this is a dream~ you’re sleeping~

Ok maybe that was some wishful thinking but Stan was panicking now!

Why wasn’t Ford saying anything?

…

…

Stan swore he could see the vein under Stanford’s eye twitch once. Twice.

Stay very still. He’s got to be following T-Rex rules right?

The silent standoff came to an end with one shrill shriek, Ashford’s tiny mouth let out a sound Stan swore he’d heard one of the henchmaniacs make, reaching towards Stan. The tiny little menace didn’t even know he’d set off a catastrophic chain reaction until Ford couldn’t suppress his reaction any longer.

“YOU! BABY! YOU HAVE A BABY!?!??!”

“AHHHHHHH!!!!!”

“AHHHHHHH!!!!!”

“WAHHHH!”

Stan quickly scooped Ashford into his arms as fat tears began to run down his chubby cheeks, startled by the sudden noise. Shushing and rocking Ashford whilst Ford screamed himself hoarse from the doorway.

Fiddleford soon joined him as he took in the chaotic sight that was unfolding. Honestly, if something had been set on fire it would have been calmer than the situation he’s stumbled upon at not even 8am.

“Jesus Ford! Stop screamin’!” Fidd’s said, clipping the back of his friend’s head to silence him as the baby’s wail carried down the hall. Wincing at the poor interns housed only a few doors down.

“He has. A. Baby!”

“And ya’ll being one, now quiet down before ya wake up the whole building with ya caterwauling.”

“Yeah, Ford! Can’t you see you’re upsetting Ashford.” Stan couldn’t help but chime in, struggling to soothe the writhing toddler in his arms. The start of a headache already pounding against his brow.

“I- His name?! You- Lee! What the hell did you do?” Ford sputtered, the pink already spreading up to his ears as he failed to contain his shock. Feet planting themselves beside the bed before he even felt himself move.

“Nope, Nuh-uh. I’ll deal with you in a minute, just let me settle him first, alright?”

Fiddleford descended on Ford in second, with all the practiced ease of a man who’d faced his wife’s fury, dragging him from the room before he could stir up his new nephew any further, leading the catatonic man to take a seat in the communal space as he blubbered uncontrollably. To himself, to Fiddleford, whoever was listening in, it didn’t matter.

When the distant sound of cries stopped echoing off the walls and Ford didn’t seem like he’d have an aneurysm that very moment, Fidd’s chances his luck, gently tapping Ford on the shoulder.

It only seemed to open the flood gates as the scientists shell-shocked gaze rose to meet his own.

“Fiddleford, I have a nephew.”

“Uh, apparently.” Fidd’s tried to laugh, the sound coming out hollow, even to his own ears as he winced at another, albeit weaker cry and Stan’s own gruff voice whispering a few rooms over.

“Fiddleford.”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at Ford once more, letting the silence that followed hold in the moment.

“Fiddleford. I’m going to kill him.”

“Ford?”

…