#Slat Grille | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stevethehairington · 2 years ago

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i love you prompts: 98 w/ romantic steddie? 😌

lou!! thank you for sending this in!! ooh this is a good one!!

98. "Take a deep breath"

It’s late when the credits finally start to roll onscreen.

Steve guesses it’s sometime close to midnight, or maybe a little after, but he’d taken his watch off earlier before he’d gotten elbow deep in dirty dish water, cleaning up after the mess they somehow managed to make whipping up a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. It sits on the kitchen counter, all the way across the room, and the nearest clock in the Munson trailer hangs beside the phone, too far away for Steve to see from his spot on the couch.

He can’t exactly twist in his place to try and catch a better glimpse of it, or get up to fetch his watch either. Not while Eddie leans up against his side, arms crossed over his chest and neck bent awkwardly so his head can rest against Steve’s shoulder, fast asleep.

When they first put the movie on, the two of them had started off on opposite ends of the already pretty small couch, but as it progressed, they’d gradually shifted closer and closer — in the name of sharing popcorn easier, to whisper their movie commentary directly into each other’s ears rather than speak over the film, and, eventually, so it seems, so that Eddie could use Steve as a pillow.

Not that Steve minded or anything. He liked it, in fact — likes it. Likes having Eddie so close, likes feeling the warmth of his body pressing up against his own, likes the fact that Eddie is comfortable enough with him to let his guard down like this.

Eddie hasn’t been sleeping all that well as of late, so when his head tipped onto Steve’s shoulder a little over half an hour ago, Steve just slouched a little lower to ease the angle of his neck and reached for the remote to turn down the volume. It had been a little hard for him to hear it after that, but he hadn’t really paid it much attention after that point anyways.

Now, though, the movie is over, and it’s late enough that Steve’s verging on overstaying his welcome. He knows he should probably wake Eddie so he can let him know that he’s going and say his goodbyes and head out.

But Eddie just looks way too peaceful. Steve doesn’t want to wake him.

Instead, he decides that he can just leave a note. In case Eddie does wake up to find him gone. He’ll know nothing bad happened to Steve, just that he went home for the night and that they’ll see each other tomorrow — because chances are they will. They hardly went a day without spinning into each other’s orbits now.

Except, Steve doesn’t want to just leave Eddie on the couch either. He knows from personal experience that the Munson’s sofa is not exactly the most comfortable thing ever. Every time he falls asleep on it, he wakes up with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back. He doesn’t want that for Eddie.

His bedroom isn’t far, just down the hall, and Steve will feel a lot better if he gets Eddie to his bed before he leaves. So, he does his best to maneuver out from beneath Eddie, cradling his head as he removes it from his shoulder and lowers it to the cushion instead.

Steve takes a second to roll out his shoulders, then he slips one arm under Eddie’s back and the other behind his knees, which are curled to his side. As carefully as he can, he lifts Eddie from the couch.

Eddie stirs, but he doesn’t wake, thank god. He just smacks his mouth a little and buries his nose into the collar of Steve’s sweater, and Steve lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

Eddie’s lighter than he looks, but still pretty heavy, and Steve doesn’t want to drop him, so he takes it slow as he follows the path towards Eddie’s door at the end of the hall. It’s, thankfully, already open, so all he has to do is kick out a foot to push it wide enough to fit through.

The blinds in Eddie’s room are still fucked up — broken enough that the slats droop down in a way that gives the morning sun the perfect opening to shine right in and wake him up before it’s time. Eddie complains about it constantly, but he hasn’t made any sort of attempt to fix them yet, and right now, Steveis grateful for that. The glow of the moon is bright enough to seep in through the gap, providing just enough gentle light that Steve can see where he’s going.

He makes it to the side of Eddie’s bed without issue, and delicately deposits Eddie onto his mattress. Again, Eddie shifts, rolling slightly onto his side, but he still doesn’t rouse.

The blankets are shoved to the end of Eddie’s bed, and Steve stifles a snort at that as he reaches for them and starts to pull them up and over Eddie’s body. He knows Eddie runs cold, so he takes a moment to tuck the corners in and add an extra blanket to the top so that he’s nice and cozy.

Then, unable to help himself, Steve brushes Eddie’s bangs to the side and leans down to leave a soft ghost of a kiss to his forehead.

He’s just starting to straighten up and pull his hand back when quick fingers dart out to curl around his wrist, trapping him there.

Steve freezes, eyes snapping back open to find Eddie, awake, blinking hazily back up at him.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, groggy, still somewhere halfway in between awake and asleep.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me,” Steve whispers. “You fell asleep, I just brought you to your room so you’d be comfortable,” he tells him.

Eddie smiles then, this sleepy, goopy sort of thing that makes something warm settle in Steve’s chest, and he tugs on Steve’s wrist. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and Steve thinks maybe he has something he wants to tell him.

So he leans in closer.

And closer.

Eddie tips his chin up, and Steve thinks he’s going for his ear, so he can whisper his sleepsoft secret. Only, his mouth doesn’t go anywhere near Steve’s ear. Instead, it lands against his own in a—

In a kiss.

It’s chaste, tender, just the sweet press of lips against lips. It catches Steve off guard at first, but the surprise settles, and Steve is about to let himself melt into it.

Then the moment shatters.

Eddie jerks back, bolting upright as he scrambles far enough back in his bed that he hits the headboard. His eyes are wide open now, fully alert and not a single trace of sleepiness anywhere on his face as he stares at Steve. His hand, the one he’d had around Steve’s wrist just seconds ago, hovers over his own mouth, like he can’t quite believe what it has just done.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m so— I didn’t mean to— fuck, you have to— please don’t—”

“Woah, hey, it’s… it’s alright, Eddie,” Steve says, holding his hands out in what he hopes is a placating gesture. He doesn’t come closer, doesn’t want to frighten Eddie further, but he wants Eddie to know that there’s no reason for him to be so scared. He’s not… he’s not mad. Or upset. Or anything that Eddie probably thinks he is right now. Not even close.

Eddie’s words start to fail him as his breathing begins to hitch, and Steve can see the rapidfire rise and fall of his chest. His eyes are on Steve, but he’s not looking at him. He’s looking through him, like he’s somewhere else right now. Like he’s spiraling into every single bad place his mind can take him right now.

Steve recognizes it for what it is — a panic attack.

“Eddie,” Steve tries, forgetting politeness as he moves to the edge of Eddie’s bed and kneels against the mattress. He reaches out to rest his hand on Eddie’s shoulder — to give him a point of contact, something to focus on. Something to ground him. It’s what usually helps Steve whenever he’s having a panic attack, finding an anchor, to bring him back down.

Eddie’s hand flies out to grasp at Steve’s wrist, and Steve lets him pull it from his shoulder so that he can curl his fingers around Steve’s palm instead. His grip is tight, nails biting into Steve’s skin, but Steve doesn’t care.

“You’re safe,” Steve reassures. “You’re safe and I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie nods, but Steve isn’t so sure his words have reached him. Not when he still looks so panicked, and his breathing is still coming out too fast.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs.

Eddie’s eyes settle onto Steve’s face, still hazy but doing better at focusing. Steve smiles at him, nods encouragingly. “Come on, do it with me, deep breath in.”

Steve makes a show of inhaling again, holding up his fingers to count to three before he starts to let it all back out in an exhale. He goes through it twice before Eddie catches on and starts to mirror him.

They follow the pattern until finally Eddie’s breathing returns to normal and the panic seems to subside.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s shoulders slump and his head drops forward, his hair hanging like a curtain around his face. Steve hasn’t let go of Eddie’s hand yet, and he doesn’t plan to.

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh, but he doesn’t look up. “Depends,” he starts. “Are you going to… to fucking… hit me or shout at me or something?”

Steve’s face screws up, mouth tugging down into a hard frown. “What?” He asks. “Why would I do that? Because you had a panic attack?”

Eddie snorts. “No,” he replies, like he can’t believe that’s what Steve thinks this is about. He stays quiet for a second, two, three. Like he can’t quite bring himself to say it. “Because I— because I kissed you,” he finally breathes.

“Oh,” Steve says softly. He watches Eddie for a moment, doesn’t like that he can’t see his face. He wants to see his face. So, with careful fingers, he reaches out to brush Eddie’s hair back, to tuck it behind his ear.

Eddie’s breath catches as he does, and his gaze flickers up to Steve’s, briefly, before fixing firmly on his lap again.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, “I’m not mad that you kissed me.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in.

When they do, Eddie’s head snaps up. His eyes land on Steve’s, wide and surprised and searching. “You’re not?”

Steve shakes his head. Lets a little smile grace his lips. “Nope,” he confirms. “Not one single bit.”

And, well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? He shuffles a little closer on his knees, presses further into Eddie’s space. “In fact…” he trails off. Does a little searching of his own. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again,” Steve finishes after he’s sure that Eddie isn’t going to push him away.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift this time, the pull together. Steve wants to smooth out the little wrinkle that forms between them.

“Are you… you’re serious?” Eddie asks.

“Serious as a heart attack,” Steve replies.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches, then a smile breaks out across his face. “Holy shit, you’re serious,” he says, followed by a breathless little laugh.

Steve can’t help but laugh too, and he nods and starts to tug at Eddie’s hand to pull him in this time. “Yeah,” he says. “Now that that’s been established, you think I could get another one?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s won the lottery. “Jesus christ, yes, yes please,” he says, and the hand not caught in Steve’s comes up to bunch into the front of his sweater as he meets him halfway.

It’s a little offcentered, a little overeager on both of their parts, but it’s perfect.

When they break apart, Eddie presses his forehead against Steve’s. “Were you leaving?” He asks.

“I was,” Steve answers. “I don’t want to now,” he admits.

Eddie chuckles and lets go of Steve only just long enough to peel back the covers Steve had so lovingly tucked around him not too long ago.

“So stay,” Eddie says.

With his welcome so graciously extended like that, who is Steve to say no?

So he stays.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

#asks #cheatghost #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #ways to say i love you prompts #mack writes #macks ficlets #oop got a little carried away with this one lol #also i just wrote this all like over the last 2 hours & i did NOT read it over when i finished lmfao so apologies if there are any mistakes #also did not know how to end it so sorry if its very abrupt LOL

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gallifreyinstituteforlearning · 5 months ago

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Anatomy of a Dalek

A Dalek is primarily made from Dalekanium and polycarbide and is technically a cyborg. To understand how a Dalek is created, see How Do Daleks Become Daleks?

Some Daleks will have variations on the below, but these aspects of a Dalek's anatomy are broadly applicable to most.

The Dome (aka dome section, head section, head dome) is attached to the neck via a docking clamp.

Eyestalk (aka eyepiece, eye antenna, tele-eye, eye-stick, optical stalk, sensory antenna, eyeball unit). The eyestalk is attached to the dome via a lens attachment, sitting on a pivot in a cowl. The eye itself is known as an eyelens. The eyestalk is covered in multiple insulator discs to protect it from radiation.

Luminosity dischargers (aka headlamp, radiation valve, dome light, vocaliser light, sound disc). It's not quite known how or why the luminosity dischargers sync up with Dalek speech, but they could be energy compensators, translation units, safety valves to release excess energy, or just lights to indicate when a Dalek's speaking.

Neck (aka grating section, upper grating section). Attached to the weapons platform via another docking clamp, or 'catch'.

Neck rings support the neck grille.

Neck grille (aka audio receptor grill, sensor grille, sensor mesh, sensor grid louvres) cover the mutant Dalek within.

Weapons Platform (aka shoulder platform, shoulder section).

Slats (aka solar power collection slats, solar slats, solar cells, shoulder slats, armour slats, sensor plates) are effectively solar panels that absorb energy to power the Dalek.

Gunstick (aka radiation gun, gun-rod, ray-gun, exterminator, blast-gun, energy gun, Dalek neutraliser, neutraliser, beam distributor, Dalek beam gun, Dalek gun, ruby ray blaster). Sits on a balljoint, controlled by armament circuits. Can be set to non-lethal, causing temporary paralysis, but maximum settings can split atoms apart. Some Daleks deliberately reduce the power of their gunstick so that the beam burns away the central nervous system outside inwards, so victims die within 2-3 seconds in complete agony.

Manipulator arm (aka tactile arm, arm-stick). Usually sits on a balljoint. Attachments can be swapped out for various tools depending on the needs of the Dalek. Some attachments include the plunger, flamethrower, seismic detector, electrode unit, sieve, syringe, blow torch, cutting tool, another gunstick, or a claw, or basically anything they need.

Base Unit (aka travel unit). Contains the motive unit, the elevation unit, and thrusters.

Sense spheres (aka sensor globes, sensor arrays, bumps) can do pretty much whatever you want them to, including detecting emissions, monitoring the surrounding environment, and acting as self-destruct mechanisms. They can also function as sockets for cables and wires, and some say the sensor globes are capable of free flight, allowing them to provide remote battlefield intelligence.

Bumper (aka fender). Possibly containing proximal alert systems to detect other Daleks, but more likely just softening collisions.

Gallifreyan Dalek Biology for Tuesday by GIL

More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

#dr who #gallifrey #GIL #gallifrey institute for learning #whoniverse #dw eu #gallifreyans #GIL biology #doctor who #TOTW: Dalek Rights Week #daleks

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naavispider · 2 years ago

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YOUR FIC ABOUT SPIDER RUNNING OFF WAS AMAZING AND SO DAMN SCARY 😭😭😭

I got a little ask for you, if it’s too gorey I totally understand:

What if, while trying to escape the soldiers through the vents, Spider escapes into laboratories? They’re empty, but on one of the operating tables the kid sees something so horrid that his body, breathing, even heartbeat goes still.

There, on the table, lies a dead, half-dissected Na’vi.

If that’s too much, then perhaps Spider sees that Na’vi yet unharmed, but the tools around them imply that the poor child of a Eywa was going to be dissected like some sort of animal or plant. The sight shakes him to his core and the world turns into a blur as he is apprehended, and suddenly Quaritch is in his face but he doesn’t react, still deeply in shock as his eyes water at the unfairness, at the cruelty of it all. Miles notices the body and realises what the boy had witnessed.

My question is — how would he behave in that situation? Would he still go through with physical punishment? Would he believe that the horror Spider saw was enough to deter him from going on another escapade? Would he perhaps feel bad?

CW: body gore, description of corpse, swearing

As he crouched in the too-small tunnel, it was the smell that first alerted Spider that something was wrong. A hazy, blue light was shining up eerily through the slats in the vent, and Spider's heartbeat thumped loudly as he crawled slowly towards the grill. The smell was a mixture of sterile cleaning supplies and something much, much worse. It was like a decaying animal, which Spider was no stranger to after living for years amongst the forest, but this was somehow fouler. It was obvious the stench had been tried to be masked by the cleaning supplies.

Peering down through the slats, Spider could make out a large room with a shiny floor, and tables with tanks set upon them, with occasional tubing connecting different set ups. He couldn't see much more from this angle in the ceiling. He stared for a moment longer, knowing that he should just move on - but the room was too curious. It looked like some kind of lab, and there was no one in sight. It was completely quiet, apart from the sounds of bubbles from some tank or another.

He took a deep breath before using the keycard to skilfully unscrew the grate at the corners, a technique he had perfected on this little adventure through the air vents. The lack of a reaction to the noise he was making when he slid the grate to the side confirmed the lack of anybody down below. He poked his head down fully to double check anyway, hands almost slipping on the smooth metal of the chute with nervous sweat. The room was bigger than he'd first assumed, and that strange blue light was coming from several upright tanks filled with a thick fluid that looked something like the stuff Grace Augustine's avatar was kept in. Bubbles were floating to the surface like little orbs drawn to the top by Pandora's flux.

Not a soul was in sight, so he nervously gripped the sides of the chute and lowered his body down. He landed silently, padding over to the nearest desk for cover. He couldn't discount the idea that someone could walk in at any moment.

The floor was cool under his bare feet, and he cast his eyes over the papers on the desk, trying to ward off the shiver it caused him. He'd never been amazing at reading, but he wasn't stupid. There were stacks of different coloured paper files, some in neat piles and some spread out open. His eye caught one labelled, 'Specimen 21 and Oxidation due to Fibonacci neurotoxin'. He frowned, repeating the words until he extracted some sense from them. The Fibonacci was a plant that the Na'vi used to dip their arrows in before battle with the Sky People, or if the occasion called for it, with other clans. Why were the RDA studying its effects? He opened the file.

He was not prepared for the wall of text that painted the paper, immediately deciding that was too much hassle. "I'm happy for you, or sorry that happened," he muttered to himself, flicking past the text to the other pages, looking for images. The file opened on a double page spread detailing a diagram of...

Spider swallowed. That was a Na'vi, and around the drawing were smaller anatomical diagrams, of what he assumed were body parts, though they looked anything but. There were lungs breaking apart, a heart with sections shaded in black, and captions detailing what must be the effects of the neurotoxin on a Na'vi body. Necrosis begins immediately. Membranes disintegrate upon contact. Flesh swells.

Spider gasped, taking a step back from the desk. The RDA were evil, but being faced with the brutality of their war games brought it into stark clarity.

Wait, if the file was called Specimen 21, and it was about a Na'vi...

The smell.

Goosebumps sprung up over Spider's entire body, and he suddenly became very aware of the area behind the tanks, almost like someone was suddenly watching him.

Heart hammering, Spider turned slowly. Between the blue, fluid filled tanks, he could make out what looked like a table behind. He didn't want to move, but his feet carried him forwards anyway. He watched as if he was a passenger in his own body as he edged closer to the area, putting a hand on the outer-most tank as he rounded the corner to see what lay behind.

A cry escaped his lips at the sight.

He wanted to run, he wanted to scream. He wanted to sink to the floor. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to say the ceremonial prayer for creatures that had returned to Eywa.

Instead he froze. Though he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes off the dissected corpse of the Tipani clan member, lying so still and open on the cold metal table. The man's face looked eerily peaceful for the state his body was in, and Spider understood that no wonder the smell was so pungent. Blackened flesh and congealed fluid filled the man's open chest and stomach. It looked like acid had been poured inside the cavity, corroding everything it touched and making his torso seem unrecognisable from the smooth blue stripes that should be there in its place.

He blinked an angry tear out of his eye, as at that moment a door suddenly burst open, followed by loud shouts and angry voices, all swarming into the room where Spider stood. He recognised his name, but he was frozen in place; he couldn't move. Seconds later, what seemed like a whole unit of soldiers had surrounded them, and a large blue hand was on his shoulder. Spider still hadn't looked away from the Na'vi, and jumped as he realised that someone just like the Tipani man was grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Spider!" Quaritch called, pulling Spider around to face away from the man on the table, bending down to be at eye level.

Spider found Quaritch's eyes but was still too lost for words to say anything.

Quaritch had known about his. There was no other explanation for the recom's hardened frown, the set way that his eyes were pinned on Spider... the complete lack of surprise at finding a dead Na'vi mutilated on the table a few feet away.

Shock gave way to anger as Spider stared at Quaritch.

"What do you think you're doing boy?" Quaritch's eyes were angry too, and roughly shook Spider's shoulder as if to bring him back to reality. "Huh? You think you can just steal a keycard and go off parading around Bridgehead? You think this is a holiday camp?" The man growled and let go of Spider's shoulder, stepping back and appraising him as he balled his fists, clearing trying to control his frustration. "Fucking hell!" He let out, and Spider blinked, finally realising that he'd been caught - that the game was over.

When had it turned into a nightmare?

"You knew about this?" Spider choked out.

Quaritch glanced at him, then closed his eyes in an irritated frown, addressing the other soldiers. "It's fine, I got the kid from here. Thanks."

The rest of the men cleared out, leaving the two of them alone in the lab. The blue light flickered over both of their faces as they waited for the door to finally inch shut. Then, Quaritch grabbed Spider's arm and hauled him out from around the tanks, back into the open space where the Na'vi was no longer in sight.

"Yes, Spider, I knew about this. Why the Hell were you here?"

Spider stood his ground, narrowing his eyes. "You..." He didn't know what he was trying to say. "Why is there a Tipani warrior on the table?"

Quaritch's tail lashed. "I understand this was a shock for you to find, Spider, but what did you expect? The Na'vi use chemical warfare themselves, of course the RDA is going to learn from that and use it back against them!"

Spider shook his head. "You... you experimented on him..."

Quaritch sighed heavily. "Listen kid. We're at war." His tone rose angrily again. "I don't see you complaining every time a damn savage dips their arrows in the stuff. Or is it okay for them to murder innocent men and women?"

Spider hissed - something he hadn't done in a long time. He couldn't help it.

To Spider's surprise, Quaritch let out a laugh. One that sent a shiver down Spider's spine.

The man looked at him again before speaking. "Kid, they've really done a good job on you."

Spider bristled at the insinuation. How dare he. "Screw you! You think I'm brainwashed or something?"

"You're doing a damn good job of acting like it!"

At this, Spider didn't know what to say. Quaritch took advantage of his momentary silence.

"It's okay for them to use the toxin, but not us?"

"No, the difference is they don't display their dead to be used and experimented on! Everyone deserves dignity, especially in death!" A lump was forming in Spider's throat. Hold it in. "That warrior should have been returned to Eywa."

Quaritch was nodding, but his whole demeanour was sarcastic. "Uh huh? Brainwashed, just like I told you!" He gesticulated as if it was obvious for anyone to see.

"Fuck you!" Spider cast around for the closest object to him, picking up a stapler from the nearest desk and hurling it at Quaritch. The man ducked, for a moment unsure how to react, but he didn't have time to say or do anything before Spider reached for the holopad lying on the desk and threw that as well. Quaritch dodged it and it smashed with a clatter on the hard floor.

"Put it down!" Quaritch shouted as Spider went for the stool next, lobbing it at the recom with as much force as he could muster.

Quaritch hit it away without too much difficulty, lunging towards Spider just as the boy turned to the tanks.

Spider could tell that Quaritch had clocked his intentions and before he could muster the strength to tip the tank over, strong arms grabbed him from behind.

"You gonna be cool?" Quaritch yelled as he wrestled Spider over his shoulder. "Or are you gonna carry on acting like a five year old?"

Spider wanted to scream. How could Quaritch just be treating him like some bratty kid? He threw his arms against the man's back and kicked as best as he could against the recom's firm grip on his legs. "Put me down!"

"Cut it out!" Quaritch yelled, walking them over to the door. "Jesus Christ, you're embarrassing!"

Spider roared in frustration, finally going limp against the man's hold, only because he couldn't be bothered to fight any more. His blood still pounded in his veins and his breathing was still deep and uneven. He searched for Quaritch's kuru to pull, knowing it was a low blow, but the man had tactfully pulled it in front of his shoulder.

His face burned when they stepped out into the corridor and he was faced with being carried through the hallway like a toddler. "Bastards!" he shouted. "Put me down! I can fucking walk!"

Quaritch stopped, unceremoniously rolling Spider off him and pushing him to walk in front. Soldiers muttered as they passed for the entire walk through the base. Spider ignored them, only occasionally throwing out the odd insult of his own, until noise from behind alerted him to a scuffle. He stopped in confusion and turned to see Quaritch with an RDA soldier pinned up against the wall by the scuff of his uniform, looking shocked to find himself there.

"Problem, soldier?" Quaritch growled.

The rest of the corridor was silent.

"N- no Sir!" yelped the man, who had turned bright red.

Quaritch let him down roughly, and shoved Spider on without an explanation. Spider had no idea what had just transpired, but he quickly gathered that although Quaritch was allowed to be mean to him, it seemed nobody else was.

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar 2 #my stuff #oneshot #jc avatar #avatar fanfic #hmm i'm not sure how this one turned out #some unexpected feels at the end there?#who'd have thought

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itcars · 1 year ago

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First Look: The Ford Mustang GT California Special

Standing out on the road has been a hallmark of the Mustang for 59 years. And now, as Mustang prepares to celebrate its 60th anniversary, Ford is putting a modernspin on the California Special.

The California Special package features Rave Blue details. The signature color appears on the nostril intakes, which flank a new horizontal-slat grille complete with low gloss black strakes. The headlights are surrounded by black bezels while Mustang GT California Special-specific graphics in Medium Light Rave Blue and High- and Low-Gloss Black appear on the lower body sides.

The California Special package is available with two 19.0-inch wheel options. The standard Carbonized Gray wheels have a GT/CS pad-printed logo in Rave Blue, while the optional Performance Pack wheel combines a machined face with Rave Blue pockets. The 5.0-liter engine badge on the front fenders and the GT badge at the back add Rave Blue outlines to black centers – like the GT Performance Package, there is a Performance Pack-specific badge. The GT/CS badge in the grille is also finished in Rave Blue.

Blue accents are prominent throughout the California Special package’s interior, where perforated Navy Pier upholstery and Ebony Black leather covers the seats. Further elevating its style is dual-color contrast stitching with Raptor Blue and Metal Gray threads that extend to the dash and doors. The same stitching is also available for the steering wheel and center console. A California Special IP badge and GT/CS floor mats round out the interior changes.

The California Special package adds $1,995 to the price of a Mustang GT Premium and is available in Coupe and Convertible body styles with either the six-speed manual gearbox or the optional 10-speed automatic transmission.

The 2024 Mustang GT California Special makes its public debut on November 16 at the 2023 Los Angeles Auto Show.

#Ford Mustang GT California Special #ford #first look #cars #mustang #Mustang GT California Special #mustang gt #news

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tybarious-ii · 1 year ago

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"WWII Home Front", circa June 1942

"Rows of finished jeeps churned out in mass production for war effort as WWII allies plan for inevitable invasion of Nazi-occupied Europe."

Photographed by Dmitri Kessel for LIFE Magazine.

LIFE Magazine Archives: 189952

#Jeep #Willys MB #Slat Grille #Willys #MB #Military Jeep #United States Army #U.S. Army #US Army #Army #World War II #World War 2 #WWII #WW2 #WWII History #History #June #1942 #my post

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xiaoluclair · 1 year ago

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2 lestappen please

2. neck kisses // lestappen // rating: T // I DUNNO WHAT THIS IS

There's a lunchable next to Pierre's bowl of shrimp and feta salad. He makes a face, glances up to see if Lando's hovering close by. Instead, what he gets is Charles one picnic table over, perched next to Max Verstappen.

Charles, who should've been in his place next to Pierre, guarding his dinner. Not doing— that. The 'that' in question: tapping heads with Max Verstappen. And they do — there's barely an inch of air between their hair. Pierre goes to nudge the lunchable over to Charles's grilled salmon aioli with his unused spoon — karma — only. There's just table. Slats of varnished wood.

Charles shifts slightly. There's a hint of pink and green in front of him. Righteously indignant, Pierre traipses over. As he is doing so, Charles leans over to say something into Max's ear, hands come up to cup either side of his mouth. He miss-aims, gets the place just below Max's ear. Pierre told him not to drink too much. Idiot.

"Hey," he says. A vat of space appears between the two in the span of his next blink. "What happened to watching my food while I pissed?"

Charles's salmon looks barely changed since Pierre last saw it. Evidently Max isn't a very good eating-partner. Pierre does not stick out his tongue.

"Your food is fine," waves off Charles. He must be properly drunk — on the bench, his hand half-overlaps Max's. He has not even noticed. Neither has Max, so he's hammered too. Pierre's not dealing with him though so that doesn't concern him.

Pierre frowns. "There was a lunchable next to it."

Max's brow furrows. "A lunchable? At dinner?" Glances to Charles. "Is that blasphemy or something?"

"No," says Pierre. "Well, yes. But no, they're — why was there a lunchable next to my food, Charles?"

Charles shrugs. He still hasn’t moved his hand. “Ask Lando.”

“Because he put that lunchable next to my dinner,” says Pierre. He knew it.

But Charles shakes his head. “No, because he is putting one in your dinner.”

Pierre glances over his shoulder. Sure enough— “Lando!” Lando drops the cracker and bolts. Esteban’s elbow tips his carrot and cashew soup over. Hilarious. But, “This is not over,” Pierre turns and vows, makes sure to drive the point home with a very point–driving finger. Charles nods. Max nods.

Pierre runs after Lando.

The sun is trying to boil off his skin. That’s through his fireproofs too. George tugs his helmet off — at least it’s some relief — pulls off his balaclava and stuffs it inside.

Black suits are great and all, really, but Miami heat is not very considerate of BLM movements. George thinks it could at least try.

He heads for the scales, where Charles already has his feet on the balance, stands behind Max. Charles’s head is tipped down for the brief few seconds, nods, turns with his body when he steps off.

Max reaches out and they share a handshake that quickly develops into a perfunctory pat on the back.

What George thinks it going to be a perfunctory pat on the back. Apparently either his Oxford Dictionary is wrong or Max has PVA smothered over his chest.

Something Lewis said last week — went on forever, man, I swear — and George hurriedly steps around the two. Yeah, no. He is not waiting around for that to be over. Weighs himself instead, has everything checked off, steps back. Glances over.

Max is already pulling away from Charles's shoulder — that wasn't too long, thinks George. He lifts a thumb, wipes his mouth. It's probably sweating too what with the absolute lazer beam that is the general outdoors, but George doesn't stick around for longer than that. Max can do all the mouth wiping he wants without him there.

On his way out, Charles gives him a nod, a smile, hand cupped to his neck. George returns it, then gets back into the goddamn sun. Fuck you, he thinks vehemently at the sky.

He swears it gets hotter.

Daniel downs the shot. It's spicy, slices its way right down the back of his throat. He can imagine it fucking up his stomach, knife to the walls, makes him cough a little. Scotty shoves another one, bright yellow this time, in front of his face. "Twenty one more to go," he tells Daniel brightly.

Sober prick.

“That looks like piss,” says Daniel. He picks it up, downs it in one go. It’s so bitter it makes him shudder.

Scotty laughs, delighted. It grows when Daniel’s hand slips and the shot glass wobbles onto the table with a small slink. He picks it up, places it upright. Nudges Daniel off the bar stool. “Okay, dance break, Dan. Before you’re too zooted to breathe.”

Daniel thinks that sounds like a good idea. He trips barely eight times on the way into the throes, Scotty’s hand on his back. A few minutes in, Daniel reaches back and tugs him in. He points across the floor — as far as he can before some girl nearly takes his fingers out with her ponytail. “Is that Max?”

He can imagine Scotty squinting. After a billion years, he says “Is that Charles?”

Daniel face–palms. “No,” he says, “is that Max?” Then the music gets a little loud and he can’t hear Scotty’s reply.

He considers asking Max to join, if he wants company. Puts forth the idea. Scotty speaks right into his ear. “I think he already has company.”

And — oh yeah. Max’s tilts a little to the side and Daniel can see his hands, pale and lit in strobe colors, wrapped around something. Some–one. And then he moves further and Daniel can see the lump on his shoulder. A head–shaped lump on his shoulder. It’s moving a little. Like a sea urchin or something.

“Oh my God,” says Daniel. Grins. “Get it Max!”

Max, across like a million people, lifts his head up. Freak. He glances in Daniel’s direction. The head that was previously next to his does too.

Daniel can feel his grin widen, like it’ll slide off his face probably. “Charles!”

Charles gives him a wave. “Scotty,” says Daniel, “Scotty, are you waving?”

When he looks at him, Scotty’s got his fingers pressed to his skull. He looks like he’s fighting off a migraine. Which is not waving. “You’re so rude,” Daniel tells him. Scotty gives him a look Daniel is simply too drunk or too old or all of the above to interpret.

"More shots?" he asks.

Scotty nods almost desperately.

Interviews finished for the day, Christian heads back to the hospitality. The team's spread out on the front tables, dripping off rails and chair, chatting. There's a noticeable absence.

He finds Gemma, legs slung over the arm of a deck chair. "Where's Max?"

She gestures inside. "Went in a couple minutes ago."

Christian nods, heads through the doors. He checks the engineer's room, wardrobe stash, canteen, driver's room. He's on his way back out again, can feel the frown on his face, when he hears a noise from the cleaning closet. Curious, he opens the door.

Things he half-expects to see: Max, walls, and a bottle of Limescale Shine.

Things he does not expect at all to see: Charles Leclerc sucking out Max's blood against the wall.

Christian opens his mouth, is about to say something. He doesn't know what, can hardly comprehend. I've got garlic and I'm not afraid to use it—

"No marks," bites out Max. Hisses, really, not very lion-like, "no fucking marks." Tilts his head back all the way until it's rolling, legs hiked up and around Charles. If Charles says something, it's very effectively caught in the skin of Max's throat. Skin that is between his fucking teeth.

Right.

"Max," says Christian. There's a bang. A squeak as Charles's shoes slip across the floor, another bang. Not because Max's elbow hits the frame this time, but because the Limescale Shine has gone toppling into a mop bucket.

Christian nods vaguely over his shoulder. "Team photos."

Max makes a sound. It isn't very coherent.

"Charles." Christian glances at him. His face that could put his fireproofs to shame. The thought drags a corner of his mouth up. "Good drive today."

Charles blinks. "Thank you?"

Christian nods. "We're not currently accepting cleaner's applications, I'm afraid. And seeing as you saw yourself in, I trust you can see yourself out too?" He gets a small, mute head-jerk in reply that could construe as a nod under a looser definition.

Satisfied, Christian, leaves, shuts the door behind him.

Gemma gives him a questioning look when he steps outside again. Christian tells her, "He'll be out in a second."

Maybe more than literally.

#ur polite nonsie mwah 🌷 💞#went of the rocker with this one a little oop #fic: mv1.cl16 #lestappen #xiao: writes #f1 rpf #big sigh back to life now ig

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genuine-wrestleboy · 1 year ago

Text

the attraction (4/5)

((here on ao3))

this chapter starts with a read more trust me

"You know," drawls Springtrap, teasing your clit in idle circles. He doesn't finish the thought, and you shudder and writhe beneath him, the attention bordering on overstimulation. You've already come once on his fingers, grasping between moans for coherent thought as he grilled you on everything you'd learned from Mike. You can't remember any specifics of what you'd told him, only that you'd answered every question without hesitation.

Now, every touch is a bellows to the embers in your belly, fanning a steadily rebuilding heat. Your limbs feel languid and loose, heavy with syrupy pleasure.

"What do I know?" Your cheek is chafed from the seat and tacky with your own drool, and you grin into it like an idiot.

“Do you know, I think you must be the only person to have gone through that tasteless little place with no idea of what a springlock is?”

“Really?” Your friends had known, but they were into this sort of thing. To be honest, right now you’re a little more interested in why his hand has stopped moving. You roll your hips, seeking friction, but he doesn’t react, even when he bends over you, even when you feel the thick, blunt shape of him at your entrance.

“Do you want to know?” asks Springtrap. Something about his tone sends an unexpected prickle of fear along your nerves. “I could show you. I’d bet you none of them have ever seen one.”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, the cold cobweb of fear on your palms. Your heart gutters under your ribs.

"Oh but you've been so good for me. It's the least I could do."

The praise catches on the rising tide of unease in your chest, blunting the sharpest edges and flooding you with warmth. You whimper pitifully into the upholstery of your backseat, your pussy clenching on empty air.

Springrap laughs. He ruts forward, and you feel the hot curving length of him slide against you, thick as four of your fingers and slick with shared arousal. A moan stutters up from your stomach and tumbles through your lips as you press back into his touch.

Then, without warning, a hand slams down next to you, filling your line of sight. You startle, flinching away, but there's nowhere for you to go. Springtrap cages you in, heavy and huge and reeking—a sharp, burnt chemical smell; damp, moldering rot. The hand by your face twitches, sinks its fingers into the seat, and you stare in open horror.

Sad, scorched remnants of greenish fur, the sleeve of the suit hanging in ruined tatters. Exposed, a mangle of flesh and steel, raw red muscle trellising a frame of blackened metal and yellow bone. Wires knit through the carnage like veins, frayed beyond function.

Part of the suit, you remember with a thrill. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard you can no longer tell where fear ends and excitement begins.

That line has always been thin for you, anyway.

"Do you see?" Springtrap twists his arm, and the light catches several slats of steel that bite sideways through the bone like broad flat teeth.

"Yes—oh, oh, yes."

All the breath in your body leaves you all at once, a gasping, begging syllable of sound. Springtrap’s cock breaches your hole, sudden and sweet, and you feel your body immediately fight to pull him in deeper. A deep, snarling sound rolls through him, control clung to by the sharp points of his fingers.

He thrusts once, shallow and slow. Your skin feels like it's on fire.

"Please," you beg, "please, god, please," and even as he ruts another shallow thrust into you he gives no indication of having heard.

"This is no ordinary mascot costume, you understand. Its design is almost perfectly unique, both suit and animatronic as the occasion requires."

As he speaks, he presses forward, fucking you open with agonizing, unhurried deliberation. You whimper helplessly, overwhelmed by the stretch, the fullness. He feels huge inside you, carving himself indelibly into your body like something you'll never really recover from.

"An impressive trick, I think you'll agree. When the animatronic is in use, it uses a sophisticated endoskeleton for support. Naturally, while the endoskeleton is in place, there's no way for it to function as a suit."

Springtrap's hips bite into you as he bottoms out, the pinch of metal joints, tiny pricks of pain fading into harmony with the pleasure.

"Fuck," you gasp, forgetting yourself.

A tsk of disapproval. Without missing a beat, Springtrap rears back to swat a sharp blow on your ass. Without the skin on skin contact, it lacks the sting of a spank, but the intention comes across clearly enough.

"One of these days," he tells you, sweet as rotten fruit, "I'm going to have to teach you a lesson about that mouth of yours."

He pets your neck in little circles with his thumb, coarse fur catching your skin. You press back into the touch like it doesn’t choke you. Leaning forward, Springtrap picks up speed, finding a heady, relentless rhythm, grinding against your ass with every thrust. Slick wet heat paints your thighs and pulses through your core, wave after wave, wringing a string of high, thin keens from your throat. Thank god for the middle of nowhere, because if you ever had a head for how loud you’re being, it’s long gone now.

"Now, where was I?” wonders Springtrap aloud. “Ah, yes. When the costume is ready to be worn, the endoskeleton isn't taken out—no, you see, it's wound aside and locked in place at the sides of the suit by a complex series of springs specially designed to hold its component parts in place. I imagine you can tell where this is headed, now, can't you? Can't you?" he adds when you fail to respond, the grip on your neck tightening.

"Yes, sir," you insist emphatically, though you could not for the life of you guess where this is headed.

Springtrap hums, pleased.

"It's not a foolproof process," he admits, "though heaven knows fools have attempted it. The springlocks can be…fickle, for those without the proper hand to use them."

He leans further forward, enough weight on your neck to send your vision swimming at the edges. Growling low and gravel-addled in his throat, he pulls back, then slams himself home, hitting something inside you that sends a shock of pleasure up your spine. You feel your pussy throb around him, and he lets out a harsh, scraping breath, hips stuttering.

"Good," he praises breathlessly. “You're taking me so well. How does my cock feel in that tight little hole?"

"God,” you gasp, “so good, it feels—ha!—please, you feel so good."

"That's right, darling," he soothes. "You understand, don't you?"

You choke out a moan and grope, thick-fingered, through your thoughts, but any sense of promised understanding eludes you. All you find is static—hazy, airless pleasure, the merciless pace of Springtrap’s thrusts shaking your mind to useless grey slurry. You can barely think past the drive of his hips, the sweet spreading ache of his cock filling you until there’s no room anywhere inside you for anything else. It's him, and him, and him like thick rising smoke, coiling through your body as you burn.

"I am so much more than I was, and not yet even all I could be. Look."

The pressure on your neck eases, and you pull in a breath that feels like glass in your lungs. Bruise for bruise, Springtrap fists his hand in your hair instead, and you gasp at the sudden pull of pain, the shiver of pleasure that comes with it.

“Look,” he repeats fiercely.

Your eyes flutter open to gristle and steel, that vivid, bloodless gore, as impossible as it is inescapable. The stringy muscle remnants flex and relax as Springtrap fucks you roughly into the seat, his breath fraying quickly at the edges. His cock feels like it’s pulling you apart, unspooling you with the ease of something dissolving out into a warm bath.

"That is total springlock failure, the compressive power of a hundred kilos of steel versus the infinitely fallible human form. It is a death sentence.”

He snarls it directly into your ear, a hungry, panting pride that throbs in the warm clutch of your core. His teeth scrape your shoulder, the harsh hiss of his breath drawing gooseflesh down your neck.

“And I have survived it twice."

He bottoms out, and your thighs clamp, trembling, shut as your orgasm rockets through you white-hot and screaming. Springtrap groans, low and loose, his pace unslowing but erratic, dragging you through the dregs of shuddering aftermath until you’re sobbing from pleasure.

"Still my sweet little slut," he hisses affectionately. "You just want to be filled, don't you?”

“Yes." Fuck, you have never wanted anything so badly. "Yes, sir, please, yes, I need it, please."

Weak, desperate tension coils in your belly, snapping suddenly free as you feel him start to come inside you. Springtrap pumps himself once, twice, hands snapping to your hips with fierce, unrelenting strength as he pulls you flush against him and holds you there. With a ragged moan, he empties himself into your needy hole, thick spurts of pooling heat. You whimper breathlessly at the sensation, too overcome to do more than lay there and take it.

Maybe you'll never have to move again. Maybe the rest of your life can be this single, blissed-out moment, facedown in the backseat of your car, sated and spent.

"What do we say?" prompts Springtrap, his voice still returning to itself.

"Thank you, sir," you manage in return, and he hums and runs an appreciative hand up your thigh.

"Good."

It hurts most when he pulls out, the bruisey tenderness between your legs causing your breath to hitch. Springtrap runs a knuckle through your folds, over your sensitive clit and up again. Discomfort blooms; you feel him press his spend back inside you with two thick fingers, twitching with the simultaneous urges to rock back and jerk away.

“What a remarkable thing you are,” he says quietly, almost to himself.

The space around your heart lights up, and you laugh, a little fuckdrunk. “You don’t have to butter me up, I’m a sure thing.”

“I’ve noticed.” Springtrap sounds thoughtful. He’s silent for a moment, and then the car lurches and shifts as he lifts himself out. Without the weight of him, without his hands on you, you feel shapeless and small, a crushed insect bleeding out on the sidewalk. Gingerly, you roll onto your side, catching your breath properly for the first time in what feels like hours.

When you trust your body to support its own weight again, you haul yourself into a seated position and reach for the nearest tshirt to clean yourself up a little. A beat passes, and then another, but Springtrap doesn’t come back.

Alone with the vacuum of his absence, your spinning thoughts spit out the possibility that maybe you’ve done something you shouldn’t have.

Then you hear the susurrus of heavy returning footfall through the leaves, and a palpable relief leans with him through the open door.

“Come here,” says Springtrap, holding out a hand. You rest your chin obediently in the crook of his palm, and he lifts your face up and to the side, examining the bruises on your neck with an air of delight. A lick of fear rises and dies in your stomach, and you realize you’re half waiting for the prick of fangs.

Things would be so much simpler, you think, if he was only after your blood.

“What do you want from me?” Your voice is soft with fear and sandpaper-sore, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Springtrap’s head tilt to one side.

"Everything," he replies, as though it should be obvious. He turns your face, forcing the two of you eye-to-eye, and you squirm self-consciously under the silver spotlight of his stare. "You're mine. Would you offer me less?"

"No," you assure him, and mean it, "no, of course not, I just—"

Springtrap nods, all sympathy. "You're still afraid of me—no, I like it. You should be."

You don't know how to respond to that. You are afraid of him, but you sense it might not be entirely in the way that you should be. It’s a keen-cut gem of a feeling, something bright and gleaming you could turn and turn in your hands and never really see the true shape of, shadows thrown from every flickering facet. Something that could cut you straight to bone with one wrong move. You look at Springtrap and imagine blood in your palms, your mouth. There’s a question on your tongue that has its iron taste, and you don’t know how else to get it off but to ask it.

"What happened to your daughter?"

Springtrap freezes. Tension tightens the hand on your face.

"My daughter." His displeasure is a palpable thing, creeping and cold, and you rush to fill the silence as if you could ward it back with the right words.

“Mike said—”

Springtrap scoffs. “I’m sure he did.”

You can feel the narrow-eyed scrutiny he levels at you. He starts to pull his hand away, and you clutch at his wrist with both of your own to stop him. The open joint catches painfully on the web between your thumb and forefinger, but you don't let go.

The scrutiny shifts, sharpens into a long look of appraisal that simmers under your skin. Then, slowly, Springtrap pulls his hulking frame along the seat until he’s crowding you against the opposite door. His shadow swallows you whole, the pad of his thumb pressing gently against the seam of your lips.

"Listen to me. It was a terrible tragedy, what happened to Elizabeth. Not a day goes by that I don't regret it. But when I realized what she had become—how could I have stood aside and let her death go to waste?”

“What she had become?” you ask thinly.

“Hmm,” he says, almost disappointed. “I take it Michael didn’t tell you about that?”

"He said you were keeping her prisoner,” you reply, and Springtrap bites out a sharp, frustrated sound.

"I was keeping her safe. Children so rarely appreciate the difference. Did Michael tell you that I killed her?”

“He, um, sort of implied it,” you confirm.

"Predictable,” he sneers. “He's always had such a talent for martyrdom.”

Springtrap pauses, head to one side, then adds, “Did he tell you what he did to his brother?”

"His—?” Something cold stirs at the back of your chest.

A tsk. "Neglected that particular detail, did he? Shame, it's quite a story.”

You'd honestly feel less scrambled if he put you in a bottle and shook you at this point. You’re still trying to process the last three minutes of this conversation, flinging your brain in a dozen different directions just to keep it all up in the air. This new information feels like suddenly having a knife tossed into your already precarious juggling act.

“Will you tell me?” you ask hopefully.

His eyes find yours, sharp and bright. “No, I rather think you should ask him yourself. You’ve been here a while, he must be worrying.”

“He thinks you want to hurt me,” you say, guilt rankling in your gut.

"I don't suppose you've done anything to disabuse him of that notion, hm?"

Embarrassed heat floods your face. "I—no," you admit. “I haven’t.”

Springtrap strokes your cheek with his thumb, the metal warmed by its long proximity to your skin. “I wonder, does Michael think that I wouldn’t go through him to get to you? Or is he relying on the opposite?”

"I don't—you think he's using me as bait?"

“Does that surprise you?” asks Springtrap. “Why? You can hardly know him well enough.”

“I—right.” The idea sits sideways in you, but it does, horribly, make you feel a little better about lying to Mike. If neither of you were completely honest, then you’re sort of even. You force a laugh, a harsh huff of air. “Some bait I turned out to be.”

“Nothing is over yet,” says Springtrap. You can hear the grin in his voice.

Nerves prickle along your skin. “What do you mean?”

The muzzle of the mask follows the path of his hands, butting up along your jaw, grazing your cheek. Tension fizzles out of your muscles everywhere he touches, leaving behind a pleasant, pliant warmth. When he nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder, you melt against him, scritching a hand up to rest between his ears. Springtrap touches you gently under the chin, turns your face to his.

“You didn’t lure me to Michael,” he says, “but you can still lure Michael to me.”

His fur leaves a black residue on your hands, ash and grit and grease.

“You want me to bring him back here?” Damn it. Maybe you’re a soft touch, but you like Mike. Decency pours off the guy in waves; it can’t all be put on. “You aren’t going to hurt him, are you?”

Springtrap turns to ice in your arms. “He tried to burn me alive.”

You have no idea what to say to that. Part of you still wants to defend Mike, but part of you also wants to flick yourself in the back of the head.

Springtrap sits back, holding your face with both huge hands and studying it with knifelike precision, as if his eyes could peel back the layers of skin and watch the muscles that make your expressions.

“Perhaps it's too much to ask." He shakes his head. "This is a family matter. Michael should never have involved you.”

But it’s too late for that, isn't it? You're as involved as it gets. You reach out, touching the hinge of Springtrap’s jaw with hesitant fingertips. The suit is burnt here, too, fresh dark gashes where fur has curled away from the metal beneath—and beneath that, a glimpse of bone, punctured by steel and half-obscured by papery purpled skin. Fascination holds you with a fist, scarcely letting you breathe.

“I’ll do it,” you hear yourself say, and you watch with rapt attention through a tangle of loose wires as the corner of his lipless mouth curves up over his teeth.

“My sweet thing. I knew I could rely on you.” He makes a sort of aborted nodding gesture, muzzle scraping your skin, then jerks away with a bitten-off snarl.

“Meet me at Fazbear’s. Try not to keep me waiting.”

The car creaks and sags again under his shifting weight, and it isn’t until he’s gone, slouching away through the rapidly darkening trees, that you realize he’d just tried to kiss you.

You stand barefoot in the dirt by your car for a long time, your heart doing cartwheels while your stomach sinks into your heels.

The drive to Mike’s takes twice as long as it should, partially because you can barely concentrate on the road, but mostly because your phone has vanished into the bowels of your car, and making your way back by memory is a feat that doesn’t exactly play to your strengths. By the time you pull into the lot, you're shaking with exhaustion and half-nauseous with the anxiety churning in your stomach. You can feel your heartbeat in your teeth.

God, what are you even doing here? How did it come to this? Caught between the wolves and the cliff, an unwitting participant in the plans of two immortal men trying to kill each other. Mike was apparently willing to risk your safety to keep his parts moving smoothly, but you don't want him to die for it, do you? You don’t know—there’s so much you don’t know. What happened here? Death and Remnant and secrets and accidents and you with your hands full of questions with no answers. It’s like trying to put together a puzzle in the dark, feeling your way along the edges in the mad hope that things will eventually start to fit together.

Only, you know what you want that picture to look like, don't you? The moment flashes again through your mind, piercing silver eyes and mitted palms cradling your face, metal hips pinning you down and your heart in your throat. Considering…everything, it's ridiculous to be this hung up on something so small, a kiss that didn't even happen, but here you are, grinning into your hand hard enough to make your cheeks ache.

A knock on the window startles you out of your reverie, and your elbow jabs the car horn as you jolt away. On the other side of the glass, Mike raises a hand, wincing apologetically. A twinge of guilt tests its cold teeth on your insides.

"Hey!" you say shakily. "Hold on, I'll—"

You fumble, suddenly clumsy, and all but fall out of your seat, biting down on whatever you can muster of a smile. Mike's forehead creases in concern, which you pretend not to notice.

"You weren't answering your phone," he says, slightly out of breath.

"Oh," you say, "sorry, I sort of lost it. Did something happen?"

He straightens, tugging at the brim of his hat. "Nothing important. How was the hospital?"

"Fine," you lie. "My friends were already gone, but that nurse from last time found me. We talked for a while, I must’ve lost track of time.”

“Nurse Gruesome,” confirms Mike. “I remember."

"Yeah, she really hates your guts," you tell him, and he laughs.

"I did get that impression. I’m sorry you missed your friends.”

You shrug. “I’ll see them eventually.”

The moment hangs awkwardly in the air between you, a strange sort of tension that reminds you, abruptly, that you and Mike are still technically strangers. You can tell that he’s looking at you, his eyes unreadable in the dim streetlights that buzz overhead, his shoulders set stiff and both hands shoved down into his pockets.

“I’m just gonna—” you begin, gesturing towards your bags in the backseat.

Mike lets out a breath. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

That catches you off-guard. “I—yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

He studies you for another wordless moment, the hair prickling on the back of your neck, your heartbeat in your ears and a brief, seeping certainty that he knows. He knows and—what? What do you think he’d do? Should you be afraid? Maybe it’s to your own detriment, but you can’t imagine being afraid of Mike. You can barely imagine him angry.

“Do I not seem alright?” you press, your voice pulled taut as catgut.

“You seem tired,” says Mike finally, and there’s no lie at all in your response.

“I guess I am. Today was, uh. It took a lot more out of me than I was expecting it to.”

He nods, scratching idly at the side of his bandaged neck. “Would you like a hand bringing anything in?”

An unexpected surge of tears roars up the back of your throat, your whole face suddenly tight and hot. You turn back towards your car to hide it, blinking rapidly and scrubbing a casual hand across your face.

“That would be great, thank you,” you reply thickly.

Mike takes the bag you pass him without comment, slinging it over his shoulder and glancing away politely. Your backpack got itself wedged under the seat during…previous activities, and as you yank it free, something falls from one of the flaps and clatters to the pavement with a horribly familiar cracking sound.

“Oh hell,” you mutter.

“Was that your phone?”

"Sure was." Hopefully it still is; you stoop to assess the damage, but aside from a new crack in the corner of the screen, it seems otherwise unharmed. The lock screen informs you that you have a couple missed calls and unopened texts, both from Mike, and from the looks of it also a dozen accidental pictures of the inside of your pocket. At least, they're probably just of the inside of your pocket, but you refrain from checking any of them in front of Mike, just in case.

"She's alive," you announce cheerfully, waving the phone in celebration.

Mike offers a smattering of congenial applause, his bandaged hands muffling the sound, and you take a little bow. Something in your chest starts to loosen, comfort settling back in through the cracks of unease.

"Ready?" asks Mike.

"Lead the way." You hitch up your backpack and follow him inside. “So what have you been up to while I was gone? Anything fun?”

Mike gives you a sort of bemused look. “I don’t know if I would call it fun. I’ve been checking local news sites for the most part. A few of them have reported on the fire, but nobody seems to have noticed anything strange about it. Which is good for arson purposes,” he muses, “but it doesn’t exactly do much for me otherwise.”

You chew the inside of your cheek and make interested noises and think it would be so easy. He wants to find Springtrap, all you would have to do is point him in the right direction.

The opportunity comes, and it passes, and you don't say anything. In the end, it doesn't matter either way. You get inside, and Mike flicks on the lights, and the double-take he does when he catches a proper look at you would almost be funny under different circumstances.

“Shit—shit, what happened?” He extends a hand like he’s about to touch you, fingers curling in on themselves. “I thought you said you were alright?”

"I look that bad?" You'd given yourself a cursory once-over in your car window, but your reflection had been mostly obscured by the coming dark. Still, you can feel the scrapes and bruises he’s seeing now, even if the worst of them are hidden by your clothes. The sting of déjà vu makes it hard to meet his eyes.

Maybe Mike feels it too; maybe it’s something else that gives you away. He sways on his feet, the bright pinpricks of his pupils slicing you neatly down to the bone. The déjà vu of that is another thing entirely.

“He found you.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you say, maybe too quickly. “I know how it looks, I—it’s complicated.”

“It always is, with him.” Even with the mask, you can see Mike’s expression slam shut, his knuckles whitening on the strap of your bag. He says your name, and it isn't angry, it isn't even disappointed, it's just sad. “Have you been helping him?”

“No—I don’t know.” Does fucking him qualify as helping? He’s really only asked you for one thing, and you’re struggling to do even that.

“You can’t trust him,” Mike tells you softly. “He’d say anything if he thought it would get him what he wanted. If you believe nothing else I’ve told you, please, believe that.”

“I don’t want to,” you admit. Anger flares, ugly and sharp, but it goes as quickly as it comes. You’re too tired to maintain it.If Mike is asking you to pick sides, he’s not going to like your answer, but you can’t really harbor any ill will towards him.

He pulls in a quick, tight breath and glances away, his eyes glassy and dark. “Right. I think we should talk about this, but I sense I may be alone in that.” He pauses, like he’s giving you the chance to contradict him. You don’t.

“He’s at Fazbear’s Fright,” you hear yourself say. It’s like you’re looking at your emotions through a thin sheet of ice, a cold, distant distortion that numbs your fingers when you try to touch it.

Mike’s eyes snap back to you. You stare down at your hands.

“I’m sorry, I need a moment to think.” His voice is a thousand miles away. “Would you–?”

“Yeah,” you say, “sure, I need to clean up anyway.”

“Thank you.”

You slink off towards the bathroom with your tail between your legs. As soon as the door is shut behind you, you fling your backpack at the wall as hard as you can, leaving a scuff on the beige paint. Two grey, threadbare towels hang by the shower, and you all but stuff one into your mouth and scream. Your poor abused throat gives up quickly, abandoning you to hoarse hyperventilating and a taste like cheap soap on your tongue. You try to imagine the smell of rust, of smoke, sucking them down into your lungs like water until you’re in over your head, cradled in comfort, swimming and still.

You emerge some time later with your face washed and your clothes changed, every new injury scrubbed and stinging. Your bag is on the couch, but Mike isn’t. From where you stand, you can see enough to tell that he’s not in the kitchen either. The only other room in the tiny apartment is the bedroom, and you don’t want to go barging in on him if he still wants to be alone, but the door is hanging open far enough that it feels like an invitation.

“Mike?” Your knuckles meet the flimsy plywood hesitantly, barely a knock. “Mike, I can talk now, if you still want to?”

There’s no response. You open the door by degrees, ready for him to stop you at any second, but no word of protest comes. Peeking around the door, you’re met by a very small, very dark, very empty room. Mike is gone.

Tires screech out in the parking lot, and understanding yanks you by the scruff into motion.

#springtrap #springtrap x reader #springtrap fnaf #my fic

23 notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 9 months ago

Text

picking teams- chapter 14: cady

hello everyone!! boo surprise sunday post!! because!! TODAY IS MY THIRD WRITING BIRTHDAY WOOOOOO!

today three years ago i posted my first ever oneshot (i think technically it was on the 4 bc it was late at night but the intention was to be today so i’m sticking with the 3). i can honestly say i was expecting NOBODY to read anything of mine and that this would be something i did for maybe a few months and then dropped like all my other hobbies.

and here we are three years later! so i’d just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s supported me through this little journey over the last three years. i feel like i really have a community and a little family here. i appreciate every single pair of eyeballs that has ever laid eyes on a fic of mine, whether you comment and i get to know who you are or you’re just a lurker. whether you’re new or you’ve been here the whole time. thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here for and with me <3

anyhoo! mushy stuff over for now lol please enjoy this chapter :)

tw for

broken bones

and as always if i missed something please let me know so i can add it in!

——————

Cady goes back to school that Wednesday.

Her parents let her have one more day off to recover and finish the homework she had been putting off. Cady's still not feeling 100% after her episode, as Janis put it, but she can't afford to miss any more school. Or cheer practice. She's gotten more than a few threatening texts from Regina.

She runs into Janis briefly going into homeroom, since it's in the same classroom as Janis' first period. She smiles, mostly at the ground, and Janis surreptitiously brushes her hand against Cady's and gently links their fingers together before walking off like nothing happened.

Cady blushes furiously and heads to her seat. She hunches in on herself to scribble something on a piece of notebook paper she rips off and folds up. She's so focused on making sure nobody sees what she's writing that she almost misses Ms. Norbury trying to take attendance.

"Cady. Caaaady. Heron. Hello."

"Wh- oh, uh, here," she stutters. Ms. Norbury arches an eyebrow and ticks her off on her computer. Cady trills her lips and tucks the paper into her pocket.

"Glad to have you back, Cady," she says once the bell rings.

"Thanks! Uh, see you this afternoon!" Cady says, rushing out the door. They already don't have much time to get from class to class, and she has a stop to make this time.

She tries to act like she's just leaning casually against the wall and she doesn't have to be across the building in two minutes. Once she looks around to double check nobody is watching, she carefully slips the note between the slats in Janis' locker and rushes off to her class.

Hopefully she gets it.

—-

Cady looks up from her phone in fright when she hears a murmured, "Hey, sweet thing."

Janis is peeking around the corner of the bleachers, lunch in hand and a confused look on her face. Cady spotted this during a rainy-day indoor practice last week. The bleachers are completely solid, so nobody can see in. "Did anyone follow you? See you?"

"Nobody important," Janis shrugs as she puts her food down. "Whatcha doing?"

Cady sighs in relief upon hearing confirmation that nobody will see them together. She leans in for a kiss and gets a sweet little peck. "I want to have lunch with you! It's like our own little place!"

"That it is," Janis agrees with a chuckle. "How's your day been?"

"Good! I got a hundred on my math test," Cady says happily.

"Of course you did," Janis laughs. "What'd you tell Regina?"

"About what?"

"Where you are," Janis says as she takes a bite of her... probably turkey sandwich. Cady's eyes widen. Shit.

"I... didn't tell her anything," she says quietly.

Janis quirks an eyebrow. "Better come up with something quick."

"Why?"

"She's gonna grill you like a war interrogator," Janis snorts.

Shit. She's right. "Uh... um..."

"Just tell her you skipped lunch," Janis shrugs.

"Skipped it?" Cady asks.

Janis shrugs again. "I dunno. That'd probably work."

"I'll think of something," Cady hums, pursing her lips and taking an exasperated bite out of her celery stick. Janis smiles at her like she's some cute little animal.

"So... any particular reason you're slipping notes into my locker and sneaking around with me behind the bleachers?" Janis says with a smirk as she scoots a little closer to Cady.

Cady groans as she's suddenly reminded why she had done this. "I have to go to Regina's after school. We're having a costume fitting for the holiday parade."

Janis looks at her oddly. "You're in the parade?"

Cady nods eagerly. "Mmhmm! I get to be an acro elf!"

"A what?" Janis giggles.

"I get to dress as an elf and do tumbling and acrobatic stuff next to Santa's float!"

"Oh," Janis says. "Stevie loves that one. I didn't know it was us."

"They choose the best cheer team in the region to do it. Apparently this is the first time in, like, ten years that it's been North Shore," Cady explains.

Janis snorts. "That makes more sense."

"I'm really excited. But I have to spend a lot of time with the Plastics, I won't have as much time free after school," Cady says apologetically.

Janis shrugs. "It's just a parade. Once it's done your schedule will calm down a bit and we can spend more time together again. Not like we're breaking up."

Cady giggles. "I still have my knight in shining armor to come save me from the Plastics if I beckon her."

"Damn right you do," Janis smirks, leaning in for a kiss.

Cady happily leans in too, smiling to herself as their lips touch. She's suddenly very glad she totally ate it at their last practice and spied this hideout behind the bleachers from the ground.

"Might need to save you already," Janis hums as they pull apart, looking Cady up and down with a small grimace.

Cady sheepishly looks down at her bright pink crop top she'd decided to wear today. She tugs at her collar, suddenly self-conscious. "You don't like it?"

"No, no, you look cute," Janis says. Something in her tone tells Cady it's a half-truth at best. Oh well.

“Thanks," she says. Janis takes another bite of her sandwich and sprawls on the hard floor of the gym with her head on Cady's lap.

"Oh, get this- my math class this morning," she says. Cady tunes out almost immediately, stroking some stray hairs away from Janis' forehead and just watching her mouth move. It's probably nothing important. God, she's gorgeous.

What is she going to tell Regina?

I got sick- ew, no.

I had to talk to a teacher- too easy to mess up if she comes from the wrong direction. They'd get suspicious too easily.

I- oh, fuck it, I'll think of something.

She continues munching on her lunch and half-listening to Janis speak. Janis doesn't seem to notice or care one way or the other. Cady smiles and pulls out her phone to check her messages. She thinks of something then.

"And then-"

"Have you... told anyone about us?"

Janis pauses mid-sentence. "No."

"Not even Damian?" Cady asks shyly.

Janis shakes her head. "I kinda still don't believe it myself. I wanted to keep it to myself for a while."

"You don't wanna tell people?" Cady asks with a frown.

"No! No, I do. Some people," Janis says. "I just wanted it to stay between us for a little bit. And I figured I should check with you before I told anyone. But I'd be fine telling a few people now."

"Oh," Cady says.

"Do you want to?" Janis asks, sitting up and brushing her hair out of her face. Cady thinks for a moment before she nods.

"We should probably tell Damian, at least. He'll find out sooner or later anyway."

Janis sighs. "True."

"You don't want to?"

"No, I'm just preparing myself," Janis says, looking at Cady out of the corner of her eye with a small grin. "Might as well get it over with, I guess. C'mere."

Cady frowns in confusion and scoots closer. Janis pulls out her phone, opens the camera, and leans in. Cady catches on and gently rests a hand on Janis' cheek, smiling into a sweet kiss. She can feel Janis smiling too as she hears the camera shutter snap and they break apart. Janis sneaks a quick peck to Cady's nose, making her blink in shock and giggle quietly.

Janis opens her text conversation with Damian and types out a message. Cady hugs her arm and leans in over her shoulder to read it.

snarkisian: hey babe

cupboard: whaaaaaat do you want

snarkisian: Sent a photo: things have developed

Janis' phone starts ringing almost immediately. Janis frowns at it as Damian's contact photo fills the screen and it buzzes in her hand, but she hits the green button and the speaker so they can both hear.

As soon as she does, a piercing shriek rings out from the speakers. It's loud enough that Cady practically feels her brain dislodge and start rattling around in her head. She thinks she might've heard him all the way from the cafeteria, too.

As soon as that happens, he hangs up. Janis and Cady both blink at the screen for a moment before bursting into hysterical laughter.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Janis sighs affectionately as she slips her phone back into her pocket. Cady feels her own buzz against her leg and pulls it out to see several incoming texts from Damian that mainly consist of ABSKEOWIWHWJWJABDHWOWOA.

She clocks the time, then, and jumps. "Oh, shit!"

Janis startles. "What?"

"I have to go, lunch is almost over," Cady says, frantically packing up her things. "Bye babe. See you later."

Janis blinks in surprise, but returns the quick kiss Cady gives her before Cady goes rushing off. She has to find Regina before the bell rings. Not that Regina has ever felt much urge to listen to the bell.

She tries to think of an excuse as she hurries through the halls towards the cafeteria. Nothing really comes to her. She skids to a halt next to some sort of booth when she sees Regina and Aaron standing close to it.

"Hey!" she greets brightly after smoothing down her hair and adjusting her shirt. They both look at her. Aaron quirks his head when he sees what she's wearing, but he gets a faint smile.

Regina checks her nails and says, "Hey. Where have you been?"

"Oh, um..." Cady says. Shit. She wracks her brain trying to think of something. What did Janis say? "I skipped lunch."

Regina cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

Cady smiles as she puts the pieces together. "I'm... trying to lose weight. So I look more like you guys. I just had one of these diet bars."

"Diet bars?" Regina questions. "Let me see."

Cady happily hands over the whole box of Kälteens. Regina holds it between her hands to try to read. Aaron peeks over her shoulder to try to see too.

"It's all in Norwegian or something," Regina says, looking at Cady in confusion.

"Swedish," Cady corrects before she can stop herself. "There's... um... this ingredient in them that you can't get here yet. My mom used to use them to lose weight in Kenya."

"Hm," Regina nods. "Can I keep these?"

"Sure!" Cady says brightly. She has a feeling Regina would've kept them even if she said no. Works for me.

"Now, are you getting me my candy cane?" Regina hums. Cady frowns in confusion before she realizes she's talking to Aaron.

"What happened to losing weight, those things are pure sugar," Aaron chuckles. Regina brushes his hair off his forehead and runs her fingers through it so it stays out of his face.

"But it's such a nice thing to do for your girlfriend," she pouts. "And stop pulling your hair down, you look so hot with it pushed back. Don't you think so, Cady?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, way hotter," Cady says. Two months ago that would've made Cady want to go for the jugular. Now? She couldn't care less.

Aaron sighs and begrudgingly leaves his hair the way Regina sort of styled it. "Alright, move over, since you so desperately need this candy cane."

He leans over the booth selling them to fill out one of the paper slips that'll eventually get tied to a candy cane and passed out in class. Cady giggles into her hand when she realizes Damian is the one in the budget Santa Claus costume behind the booth.

"Cady, remember, student parking lot after school," Regina says as she laces her pink-taloned fingers through Aaron's and leads him off to... wherever they're going. Most definitely not class.

"Got it! Bye," she says. She can feel her face relax as soon as they're turned around and can't see her anymore. Cady goes to the booth and leans across it. "Hi Dame."

"Ho ho ho, happy holidays! Would you like a candy cane?" 'Santa' replies. Cady laughs again.

"Hey, does Regina ever send any of these things?" she asks.

"Nah, she only gets them," Damian replies in his normal voice. "You want any?"

"One please," Cady replies, taking a pen with a smirk on her face.

—————

Cady sighs a little to herself as she follows Regina and the others into her house. Gretchen and Karen chat with Regina's mom. Regina huffs and rolls her eyes, straight off to her bedroom. Cady says a quick and polite hello and takes a handful of the offered snacks. She nibbles on the sunflower seeds while she mulls over what to do next.

Regina took the bars. As long as nobody recognizes them, she should be in the clear there. How can she make them work faster? Kälteens do work quickly, but Cady wants results as soon as possible. For Janis.

What makes you gain weight quickly? Cholesterol, but Cady doesn't want to do anything permanent. This is just to teach Regina a lesson, then she can lose the weight again. Sugar? Yeah. Carbs.

Cady smiles to herself as she puts a plan in place.

"Alright, you girls go find Regina. You'll do great," Mrs. George says after however long. Cady jumps when she remembers where she is.

"Thank you, Mrs. George," she calls as she goes running after Gretchen and Karen up to Regina's room.

"You're welcome!" the woman calls after them.

Regina tosses a hanger at her as soon as Cady walks into the room. "Here. I know, the costumes are fugly."

"I think they're kinda cute," Cady says, holding the outfit out so she can see it all.

"The hat has fucking jingle bells on the top, Cady," Regina huffs, handing Cady hers. She shakes it a little bit, and sure enough, there's a quiet jingling. "Go make sure it fits, but we really just need to work on making sure the hat doesn't hit the ground or fall off while you tumble."

"Okay," Cady says. Gretchen and Karen just changed in front of each other, but Cady sneaks off to the en-suite and locks the door behind her. She looks at herself in the mirror and takes a deep breath.

Janis was right, I do look Plastic, she thinks. Cute, though. Her loss.

She carefully takes off her clothes and tugs on the red-and-white striped tights. She has to jump to get the super stretchy material all the way up, but she manages with only one faceplant. Then comes the green dress, with gold buttons down the bodice, short sleeves with puffed shoulders, a belt at her waist, and red and gold trim around the hem with a collar to match.

It's not a great fit. Hesitantly, she unlocks the door and steps back into Regina's room with an, "Um."

Regina looks at her and laughs. "I kinda thought that would happen, these costumes are all huge. I swear they think we're all fat cows or something. My mom will tailor it for you."

Cady looks down at the very strangely fitting dress. There's a lot of space in between her belly and the dress, and not a lot in between it and her boobs. The skirt hits about mid-thigh, which is entirely too long, if Gretchen and Karen's are anything to go by. The sleeves are both uncomfortably tight in her armpits and loose everywhere else.

Other than that, it's great. At least the tights fit.

"Go change again, she'll get your measurements before you leave."

Cady nods and slips gratefully back into the restroom. She snaps a quick picture before she changes and sends it to Janis.

She's stuck with the dress over her head when she hears her phone go off, presumably with Janis' answer. She wriggles more in a ditch attempt to free herself, which gets her nowhere even faster.

Eventually, she escapes, heaving for breath and her hair all frizzy. She peels off the tights and puts on her non-elf clothes. Regina takes the hanger as she passes her on her way into her bathroom while Cady is occupied checking her phone.

jayjay: cutie

cadygirl: You like it?

jayjay: ofc i do

jayjay: my dorky little elf

cadygirl: Hey!

jayjay: do u get ears and shit

cadygirl: Yeah

cadygirl: Regina's really mad about it

jayjay: holy shit that's amazing

jayjay: reginald in elf ears

cadygirl: I don't get it I think they're cute

jayjay: i think ur cute

"Who are you texting?" Karen asks. Cady leaps a solid foot in the air as she materializes over her shoulder. "Not enough emojis."

"Um..." Cady stutters. Her immediate instinct was to blush and press her phone to her chest so they can't see. Now Gretchen and Karen are both looking at her suspiciously. "Uh... my... g- boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Gretchen squeals sharply. "You can't get a boyfriend without telling us!"

"I can't?"

"Not without your best friends' approval! You wouldn't buy a skirt without asking your friends if it looks good on you," Gretchen hums.

"I wouldn't?" Cady replies in confusion.

"Exactly!"

Cady just blinks.

"So who is it?" Karen asks eagerly.

"Oh, you don't know him," Cady says immediately. Because it's not a him. It's not technically a lie. Right?

"He's not, like, thirty, right?" Gretchen asks in concern, the furrow in her brow deepening the longer Cady goes without answering.

"No! No, ew," Cady replies with a grimace. "Uh... he... goes to another school."

"Which one?"

"Um... do you remember that school we played right before Thanksgiving break? The away game when we stayed at the hotel?"

"Roosevelt?" Gretchen asks. Sure.

"Yeah. He goes there," Cady replies. "His name is... Jasin. With... an I."

"Ooh, unique!" Gretchen coos. "Is he cute? You have to introduce us soon!"

"Well, I don't think he's... everyone's type, but I think he's cute," Cady replies sheepishly.

"Aww, you're blushing!" Karen says. Cady blushes harder.

"Shut up," she scoffs. Karen's face falls. "No, wait, I didn't mean it like that-"

"It's okay," Karen says quietly.

"I'm really sorry, Kare," Cady says. Karen gives her a look Cady can't read. Not that Karen is ever easy to read.

"Don't worry about it."

Cady gently squeezes her arm. Karen smiles faintly at her.

"Do you have pictures of him?" Gretchen asks eagerly.

"No," Cady says immediately. "Uh... he's really shy, we don't, like, send pictures of ourselves much. We just like to see each other in person and text and stuff."

"Aww," they both coo. Gretchen continues, "Well, get one soon! We gotta make sure he's hot enough for you."

"I'll try," Cady giggles. "Oh, could we like... not tell Regina right away? It's all new, still, I don't want her to freak out about our image if we break up or whatever. We've only been together for, like, two weeks."

"Our lips are sealed," Gretchen replies immediately.

"But I'm not using SuperGlue as Chapstick again," Karen adds.

"No, that's okay, K, don't do that," Cady says immediately. "Thanks guys."

"Alright sluts, put on these... eugh. I can't even call them hats," Regina says as she parades back into the room. She chucks one at each of them rather aggressively. Cady's ends up hitting her full force in the face when she's too slow to react.

Regina watches as the three of them carefully push all her very expensive furniture out of the way so they have enough room to flip without fear of crashing into anything. Cady asks why they're not just practicing outside, and Regina goes on a solid ten minute rant about being seen in those costumes more than they have to. Cady doesn't speak for the rest of the evening.

—————

"Did Regina's boobs get bigger?" Cady hears the boy behind her in chemistry class ask about two weeks later, apparently as a conversation opener with his equally-jock-douchebag lab partner.

"Dude, totally," jock-douchebag replies. "Aaron's a lucky guy."

"Isn't she still dogging Shane?" bro number one asks. Cady tries to hide a shudder at the mention of his name.

Bro the second shrugs. "Probably."

Dammit, we made her hotter, Cady huffs to herself as she slides her goggles down over her eyes and turns on the bunsen burner. She looks over and sees Janis with a similarly disgruntled look on her face.

She gestures subtly for Cady to focus. Cady snaps back into the real world, this time before she can set herself on fire. She risks one glance back and sees Janis chuckle to herself, biting her lips to stop before anyone can see and ask what she's laughing about. Cady smiles to herself and buckles down to set some Doritos on fire. Not myself, thank you very much.

—————

Cady is laser focused in calculus another two weeks later. Not on calculus, but... she's there, it's fine.

She jumps and bangs her knee against her desk when Santa Claus slams the door open with a bellowed, "HHHHHOOOOO!"

"Jesus Christ," Ms. Norbury sighs, picking up her shattered chalk bits after she dropped it in shock. "Make it quick."

"One candy cane gram for Shane Oman," Damian says, adjusting his very poor quality fake beard as he hands Shane his candy cane.

He holds it between his first and index fingers like a pair of dirty underpants and leaves Shane to snatch it. Damian wipes his hand on his red velvet Santa coat like Shane has some sort of hetero cooties he might catch.

"Four for Glenn Coco!" Damian continues. "Hohoho, you go, Glenn Coco. Two for Caddy Heron!"

Cady frowns in confusion. Two? She only bought one. She takes them with a smile as Damian wiggles his way between the rows to deliver them. "Thanks, D."

Damian winks at her and moves on to deliver the next few candy canes to the lucky recipients.

Cady checks the tags on hers. There's the fake one, the one she wrote herself. She smiles to herself as she reads the little red slip of paper on the second one.

Merry Christmas my little elf

<3, J

ps ur short lolololol

She rolls her eyes as she reads the very loving message from her girlfriend and unwraps the end of the candy cane. She sucks on it as she continues pretending to pay attention when Damian leaves and Ms. Norbury can resume her lesson.

——

"Sorry I'm late!" she pretend-puffs as she stumbles her way into the gym. Regina just glares at her from across the room, but Gretchen comes scrambling over to join her as she plops her still-open bag on the ground. "God, I was in the middle of a problem when the bell rang, I didn't even have time to get packed up-"

"You got a candy cane?" Gretchen asks softly. She picks it up and unfolds the tag to read.

"Oh, yeah, Regina sent me one! Isn't she just the best friend?"

"R-Regina?" Gretchen squeaks. "Thanks for being such a great best friend. ...Cute."

"She didn't give you one?" Cady asks with faux-sympathy. She's heard it from the mouth of the lioness herself. There's no way Gretchen got any.

Gretchen shakes her head frantically. "She never sends them."

"Oh. Weird," Cady replies. "Well, you can have that one if you want. I had another one."

"I have to go," Gretchen chokes around floods of tears. Shit. Maybe Gretchen is a little more fragile than she thought.

"Gretchen," she says pleadingly, running after her friend to the bathroom.

"Well, i-if you and Regina are best friends now... then you can be in charge of keeping all her secrets," Gretchen says as soon as the door closes behind Cady.

Cady just nods. She can tell Gretchen is about to ramble, she doesn't dare interrupt her.

"Like, for example, she bought you those shoes just to make fun of you! Be-because she knew you wouldn't be able to walk in them. And she's not really blonde!"

Cady's eyes widen. She's not? Her eyes flick to the door as she hears a shocked gasp come from the other side. Was that... Damian?

"Her natural color is dark blonde. Also she totally cheats on Aaron!"

Cady almost chokes.

"Every Thursday she says she has a cheer intensive but she totally just stays behind to hook up with Shane Oman in the lion costume!"

"She makes him wear the costume?" Cady asks in disgusted horror.

"No! They're both in the costume!" Gretchen bellows, snapping the candy cane in half and dropping the pieces to the floor. Cady's jaw drops.

"Oh my god."

"And I never told anyone because I am such a good friend! I-I'm gonna go fill up my water bottle. Cover for me?" Gretchen sniffles. Cady nods.

Gretchen ducks out of the room. Damian enters before the door even closes, and Janis slams her way out of the stall. Damian hysterically whimpers, "I wear that costume!"

"Cads, that was amazing! What did you do?!" Janis says with an adorably delighted smile on her face. She rushes up and grabs Cady by the arms, spinning her around before she leans in for a kiss.

"Just a little Christmas magic," Cady responds with a grin of her own as soon as they break apart. "I sent myself a candy cane but I signed it as being from Regina."

"Clever girl," Janis coos in a horrible accent. Cady giggles.

"Okay, I gotta go! Love you guys." Janis gets another kiss and Damian gets a quick hug before Cady runs back to the gym to start their last parade practice.

————-

Cady grumbles as she wakes up the next morning. It's barely morning, the sun hasn't even risen yet. She has to be in the city, an hour away, two hours before the parade starts at 8:00. And she has to be there with her hair and makeup already done.

She does consider herself a morning person, but four in the morning is a bit much for anyone.

She grumbles as she hauls herself out of bed and stumbles to the restroom. She turns on the light and resists the urge to wince and close her eyes. How am I meant to be a jolly elf on five hours of sleep?

Cady opens her eyes extra wide, looking a little past unhinged when she sees herself in the mirror, to let the light in and hopefully wake her up.

By the time she's done brushing her teeth, she doesn't squint in the light anymore. She still grumbles sleepily as she washes her face, though.

She brings up the photo Regina sent (accompanied by many profanities) of what her makeup should look like so she can copy it. It's honestly not very different from her usual cheer makeup. Foundation, lots of gold eyeshadow, black mascara, red lipstick. Pretty much the only difference is the bright pink blush that she leaves in neat little circles on the apples of her cheeks instead of blending it up her cheekbones to look more natural. It's a little more rag doll than elf, but maybe it'll work better with the costume on.

She does her hair in two french braids, parted as close to even as she can get down the middle of her head and twisted intricately so they won't fall out after a morning of being mostly upside-down. She gives up on each braid a bit before the end, and ties the bands around halfway down instead of at the ends. Kind of a cute look, she thinks, as she fluffs out her curls at the end of each braid.

"You ready, binti? Have a Kälteen bar," her mother says when she trudges her way downstairs. Cady grabs the bar and takes a disgruntled bite out of it. She nods.

"You're sure this Regina friend can bring you home? We have to leave right from-"

"Right from the parade, I know, Dad," Cady says. "I quadruple checked, I'll make it home fine. Have fun at the vet conference."

"Oh, we will," her mother promises. "There's a keynote speaker on upgrades in euthanasia technology."

"...Cool," Cady replies.

"Right?! Alright, go get in the car. You sure you have everything?"

"Yeah. Regina has my outfit, I'll get changed there," Cady says. She looks down and brushes some wrinkles out of her Christmas jammies that Janis bought her. She smiles at the memory. My little dork.

"Time to hit the road, then!" her dad says. Cady shrieks as he hoists her off the ground and marches out towards the car.

"Dad!"

Her dad just starts bellowing the chorus to I Love a Parade, probably really irritating their poor neighbors. Cady gets affectionately tossed in the backseat, and her dad continues singing as her parents get into their spots up front and start the drive to Chicago.

————-

"Binti, we're here," her mother says. Cady jumps and snorts, bashing her head against the window she had fallen asleep against. "Ooh, be careful."

"Shit," Cady hisses under her breath, rubbing her new sore spot.

"Language," her dad chides, only half-serious.

"Sorry daddy. Have fun in Peoria. I love you," Cady says, bending at a weird angle to hug her parents goodbye. They can only stay long enough to see the beginning of the parade, so she has to get her goodbyes in now.

"We will. Be safe, have fun. No boys," her mother says, gently patting her back.

"I know, I know. You don't have to worry about that," Cady chuckles. Really. You have no idea.

"Atta girl. Go get em, tiger," her dad says, opening the door for her and sending her out. "Love you!"

"Yeah, love you too," Cady says, briefly walking backwards to talk to them. She gives them a final wave before she turns around and starts running to her team's meeting spot. "Yeesh. I'm sixteen."

Regina, once again, chucks her costume at her as soon as she's within sight. Cady manages to catch it this time, and looks around for somewhere private to change. The only place is behind some trees, so she heads that way.

Regina's mom is a talented seamstress and tailored Cady's costume to fit her perfectly. Almost too perfectly. It's so tight against her chest and her belly that she can barely breathe, and the skirt juuuuust barely passes her bum. The candy cane-esque tights are all she has left to protect her modesty.

The shoes with pointy toes and jingle bells are a recent addition, and she jangles her way back over to her friends. "Hey."

"Hey!" Karen greets, too brightly for six in the morning.

"Are your costumes, like, really tight?" Regina huffs, shifting her arms around to try to stretch the fabric a little. "They were huge, my mom can't have fucked up the tailoring this bad."

"Mine's okay," Cady shrugs. Her hat jingles for emphasis.

"Ugh, I'm gonna go see if she has any safety pins," Regina grumbles. Cady's phone pings as she stomps off through the frost-covered grass.

jayjay: good mornin buttercup

cadygirl: >:|

jayjay: what ?

jayjay: not a good morning??

cadygirl: Sent a picture: It's 6 in the morning and I look like this

cadygirl: And I'm cold >:|

jayjay: aww

jayjay: someone's grumpy

cadygirl: Yeah >:||||

jayjay: steve and i will be there to see you

cadygirl: Yaaaaay 🥰🥰

jayjay: that easy to cheer you up huh

cadygirl: It'd be even easier if you bring me food

jayjay: little conwoman

cadygirl: Whaaaat nooooo

jayjay: i'll take you to breakfast after

jayjay: hobbit

cadygirl: Hey!!

jayjay: not because you're short

jayjay: this time

jayjay: bc they're hungry all the time

cadygirl: Oh

cadygirl: Still v rude of you

jayjay: if i take you to get a happy meal will that make up for it

cadygirl: Yes <333

jayjay: done

jayjay: see you soon peanut

cadygirl: See you soon gorgeous 😘

Cady suddenly feels much warmer as she puts her phone back into her bag. She and Gretchen glue each other's ears on and the whole team does a warmup and stretch routine together. Cady rolls out her wrists and finally smiles as she gets into her spot.

——

The parade is more fun than she was expecting. It's less intense than what she has to do at games, more walkovers and limbers than tucks and punches. She gets a little dizzy, and it's hard not to get run over by the float on the rare occasions she fumbles a landing, but it's still fun. For once, the smile on her face is genuine the whole time.

She waves dorkily when she passes her parents. They both have their phones held up to film and proud smiles beaming across their faces. They wave back just as dorkily before they duck out and are off to their seminar.

Cady doesn't get to do much in the way of the more limber skills anymore. It's fun. She kind of misses doing skills just for fun, for herself. As long as she stays in her spot she can do whatever she wants to. She does all sorts of front walkovers, back walkovers, aerials, the occasional handspring. It's refreshing.

Whenever they come to a stop is when things get interesting. Nobody wants to see a parade stuck in place, so they practiced lots of choreography for that. One of the floats ahead of them gets stuck on a corner, and Cady does a vaulted flip off of Regina's crouched form like a really, really elaborate game of leapfrog. Regina acts like she's dancing with her and whirls her back around so they're in their right spots before they get going again.

Towards the end of the parade, Cady hears a, "Hi Cady!"

She's not supposed to, but she looks over. Stevie is waving eagerly to her, her arm linked with one of her friends. Janis is behind her with a cute grin on her face as she sees Cady in all her elvish glory. Cady wiggles her fingers back in greeting, and kisses the tips of her fingers twice before blowing the kisses in their direction. Janis smiles wider and sneakily blows one back. Stevie just squeals and dances around with her friend. Cady adds a little more flair to her skills than she needs to just for them.

Things stop and start a lot more as the first floats get to the end of the parade route and have to navigate pulling off to the sides of the road or getting where they need to be. Cady and Regina do their series of tricks at least six times. They start adding little bits of flourish to it when it begins to feel boring and repetitive.

Apparently a little too much flourish. Regina does a dramatic turn before she crouches to be Cady's vault.

Cady's already running.

She has no time to stop as Regina's safety pin breaks.

And her costume comes off.

Regina screams and bends down to try to grab it. Cady slips on the fabric and goes head over heels the wrong way. Cameras are already out, pictures and videos being recorded. Apparently more people from North Shore make the trip out to see the parade than they thought.

But Cady can't hear the shutters clicking or the agitated murmuring over the pop her ankle makes as she lands, and the roaring of blood in her ears as a horrific pain radiates up her leg. No, no, no no no nononono.

One of the coaches was walking alongside the float in between them and the crowd to make sure it all went smoothly. She rushes up and helps Regina get herself situated. "You alright, Heron?"

Cady can only sob. My ankle is broken. My ankle is broken and it really hurts. My ankle is broken and I may never be able to tumble again. My ankle-

"Whoa, kid, hey," her coach says. "Can ya walk? Right flank, fall in! You're down a man!"

Cady hops and hobbles her way to the end of the route and sits down on the curb, cradling her ankle and sobbing.

"Are your folks around?"

Cady shakes her head. "Re-Regina's take-taking me home."

Her coach hums and nods. "She ran off. Hope she's okay, too. Dang, kid, that looks gnarly."

That only makes Cady cry harder. What if I just did my last flip?

"I'll uh... go keep an eye out for George," her coach says. She does have the decency to bring Cady her bag. Cady debates texting her parents to let them know, but they're probably already halfway to Peoria. And they were so excited about the keynote, she can't drag them away from that. She'll just have to suck it up.

The pain is... almost bearable. It's not, but she doesn't exactly have much choice. Her sobs slow, and before too long she's just sniffling on the side of the road and holding her sore leg.

She about jumps out of her skin when she hears a, "Caddy!"

"Jesus Christ, Janis! There's people around here!" Cady hisses. Janis' face falls a little.

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here?" Cady asks more gently.

"There's already like, seventy different people sharing videos of you and Regina falling, what the hell happened?"

"I think the Kälteen bars backfired," Cady sniffs, shutting one eye as a wave of pain radiates from her ankle.

Janis frowns. "What do you mean?"

"She's gained so much weight her costume didn't fit," Cady explains through half-grit teeth.

Janis snorts. Cady glares at her. "Sorry."

"She safety pinned it on and it broke and I slipped on the costume," Cady continues. "And I fucked up my landing and I think my ankle is broken."

"Yikes," Janis says in concern.

"She was supposed to take me home," Cady says, trying to stretch out her leg and wincing in pain. Janis winces too.

"Damian and I will take you to the hospital, don't worry about it," Janis says immediately.

"Don't- ow- don't you have Stevie with you?" Cady asks in concern.

"Nah, she wanted to go to her friend's house, I'm free of the child until tonight," Janis replies. "Can I see?"

Cady looks at her hesitantly. Janis looks back. She doesn't push. There are a lot of people around. But Cady needs the comfort of her girlfriend right now. She nods.

Janis carefully eases her stupid jingly boot off her foot, pausing whenever Cady makes a pained noise. By the end Cady has her bottom lip so firmly between her teeth she can taste blood and her eyes screwed shut. It's still not enough to stop a few pained tears slipping out and down her face.

It becomes quickly apparent that Janis has absolutely no idea what she's doing. She gives Cady's foot a gentle, inquisitive poke and pulls back like she's been burned when Cady squeaks in pain. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Cady says, looking at her through squinted eyes and trying to remember how to breathe.

"It's pretty swollen," Janis says in concern. "And bruising already."

Cady sniffs again, looking down at her stupid candy-cane patterned lap. Janis gently tips her chin up.

"It'll be okay, Cads," she murmurs.

"But what if it's not?" Cady hiccups. "What if I never walk on it again? What if I can never do another flip?"

"And what if it's totally fine? What if it turns out to just be a bad sprain and you're back on your feet in a week?" Janis retaliates.

Cady feels her lip tremble. Janis might be right.

But they both know she's not.

"They're coming, hide," Cady says when she hears the cheers coming down the road. Thank god Damian's almost here.

Janis looks at her oddly, sadly, but she obediently ducks behind the tree line to wait for the crowd of people they actually know to clear out.

"Cads! Hey, coach told me you fell, what the hell, babe?!" Damian says as soon as he sees her, sprinting full tilt over to her. "Oh, yikes."

"Is it bad?" Cady asks, feeling tears brimming behind her eyes yet again.

"It's not... great," Damian replies hesitantly. "Can you move it?"

Cady sniffles. "I don't know, I haven't tried."

"Can I?"

Cady nods. Damian carefully braces her ankle with his large, warm hand and gives her foot a gentle wiggle. Several people look in their direction at the noise Cady makes in response.

"Alright, well," Damian says in a voice a solid three octaves higher than normal.

"I'm sorry," Cady sobs.

"Babe, shh," Damian soothes. "I will donate you one of my feet if I have to. We'll go get you patched up and all that, don't worry about it."

"But how will you be a big Broadway star someday if you only have one foot?" Cady giggles wetly.

"I'll manage. Is that Janis peeping at me through the bushes over there?"

"Probably," Cady replies with another giggle. She turns around and sees a familiar pair of blue eyes poked out from behind a gnarled old tree trunk. Janis ducks back behind it when she sees she's been spotted, and Cady smiles. "Yeah. Dork."

Damian smiles too. "She really loves you. Let me text her so she doesn't get picked up for stalking or some shit."

"She does?" Cady sniffles.

"Girl, are you kidding? We haven't had a conversation where you haven't come up at least once since September," Damian says absently as he taps out a message to Janis.

Janis is close enough that they hear her phone ping and her muffled, "Shit!" Cady can't help but laugh.

"Alright, she'll meet us at the car and we'll take you to the hospital."

"Thanks, papa elf," Cady grins. Damian laughs and tosses Cady onto his back to carry her the half-mile back to the parking lot. "These bells are infuriating."

"I think they're fun," Damian replies, a hand over his heart. He wiggles his head to make his hat jingle for emphasis. Cady giggles.

"Thanks for taking me home. I dunno what happened to Regina," Cady says quietly.

"Nobody does, she disappeared after the... incident," Damian replies. Cady frowns.

"Weird."

"I took over on your side so it was still balanced, but apparently she just ran off naked through the woods. Guess you can cross that off your list," Damian says. Cady laughs.

"You make a great elf," she replies. "Your ear keeps poking me, though."

"Sorry," Damian chuckles. "Alright, madam, we have arrived at your chariot."

"'Sup nerds," Janis greets, pushing herself off Damian's mom's car with a small salute.

"Caddy gets front seat privileges, she's broken."

"Ugh!" Janis groans sarcastically. Cady giggles.

"Um, actually... can I sit in the back with you?" she mumbles shyly.

Janis smirks. "We gonna make out?"

Cady rolls her eyes. "Corndog."

"What?!" Damian giggles.

"Is that not right?" Cady replies shyly.

"Did you just call me a corndog?!" Janis cackles.

"Someone tell me what I meant to say!" Cady insists.

Damian barely manages to put her down safely before he almost collapses to the ground in laughter. "Did-did you mean horndog?"

"Yes!" Cady says. "Stop laughing, it's not funny!"

"Yes it is!" Janis chokes through her laughter.

"People are staring, shut up!" Cady hisses. "Stop laughing!"

"Okay, okay," Damian says, wiping tears from his eyes. "Get in, sluts and slurs."

As soon as the doors close, Janis and Damian burst into laughter again. Damian can barely turn the key to start the car, he's laughing so hard. "I didn't mean to say corndog, stop laughing."

"You're so cute," Janis hums, still giggling to herself. "How's the ankle doing?"

"Hurts," Cady sighs.

Janis pouts and pulls Cady into a cuddle. Cady leans into her shoulder with a wince as another burst of pain radiates up her leg. "Poor baby."

—-

After an interesting drive to the nearest urgent care, Janis scoops Cady out and carries her baby-style into the waiting room. The pain is starting to get to Cady again, and she winces and cries quietly as Janis cradles her in her lap.

Luckily, people are so focused on their own injuries or other ailments that two Christmas elves and their art freak barely catch their eye. There's a mother there with a clearly sick little boy snuffling into her shoulder, a duo of frat bros who are clearly drunk and each cradling one arm close to their chest, and an old man in the corner filling out a crossword puzzle from 2011.

"How did your hat survive that whole thing?" Janis asks as Damian plops into the seat next to them with Cady's paperwork.

"I glued it to my head," Cady sniffs. Damian drops his pen in shock.

"You what?!"

"Only in the front, I used clips in the back," Cady replies. Damian sighs and rests his hand on his chest.

"Do not scare me like that," he replies. "Cads, when's your birthday?"

"July thirtieth," Cady says softly.

"Hey, my birthday's in July too!" Damian says. "Twinsies."

Cady can't help but giggle at his desperate attempt to cheer her up. "When's yours?"

"The thirteenth," Damian says.

"Man, I'm still the baby!" Cady huffs. "Miss January over here."

"Not my fault my parents know how to celebrate Easter," Janis shrugs. Cady gasps.

"Janis Sarkisian, we are in public!"

"Whatcha gonna do about it, tiny?" Janis retaliates. "Since we are in public."

"Hmph," Cady grumbles. She cuddles closer into her girlfriend's warm neck.

"You okay?" Janis whispers against her forehead.

"Hurts," Cady whispers back. "Are they gonna see us soon?"

"Probably not," Janis sighs.

Damian goes to hand in her paperwork at the front desk. Beyond that, all they can do is wait.

And wait they do. But, eventually, a nurse calls Cady's name and Janis stands to carry her back. Damian follows quickly, running after them through the winding halls.

"Alright, what seems to be the problem?" the nurse says. She does a double take when she sees the elf with one shoe on sitting on the exam table. She snorts a quick laugh but bites her lip to stop herself.

"I think I broke my ankle," Cady says softly. The doctor looks down at her one exposed foot and winces.

"It looks like that might be the case, hon. What happened?" the nurse asks, taking Cady's vitals. "Cross your arm over your chest."

Cady does when she fastens a blood pressure cuff around her wrist. "Um, I was in the parade this morning and I slipped on... something. I fumbled a flip and landed on it weird."

"Did you hear a pop when you landed or was it just a feeling?"

"I heard something pop, and I can't put any weight on it," Cady says anxiously. "And it's a little numb, and kinda... tingly, I guess."

"Mm," the nurse hums. "I'm gonna try and move it a bit, you let me know if anything hurts, alright?" Cady nods and braces as the mere brush of her fingertips against her ankle sends more waves of pain flooding up her whole leg and out her toes. "That hurt?"

"Mmhmm," Cady squeaks.

"Hm," the nurse hums again. "I'm gonna get the doctor to get you an x-ray, alright?

"Thank you," Cady says. She looks down at her lap with a quiet sniffle. She shakes her other foot and humphs at the jingle she gets in response.

"You okay, Peanut?" Janis asks quietly.

"What if it is actually broken?" Cady asks desperately. "I'm the head flyer, broken bones take so long to heal! It'll be weeks before I'm back in, what are they gonna-"

"We have protocols for this kinda thing, Cads, it'll be okay," Damian says. "We get injured all the time. I broke my wrist cheering in middle school and everything was fine. You just gotta take your time to heal."

"But-"

"If it is broken and you try to do anything you could hurt yourself permanently," Janis says. "Repetitive fractures? You have to rest. And we don't know for sure that it's broken yet, it might just be a bad sprain."

Cady sighs and nods. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Anytime, babe," Damian says, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders and resting his head against hers. Cady blinks as his elf ear almost pokes her in the eye. Janis joins in too, and gets a jingle bell up the nose.

Her little crew gets left behind as Cady hops after the doctor towards the x-ray room. She holds as still as she can on the uncomfortable table and listens to the deafening clunks of the machine as it whirls around her foot. It's so loud she's a little worried it'll explode, but the doctor eventually returns from behind the lead partition and leads her back to her room to wait for the results.

It's a very quick wait.

"Your ankle is broken," the doctor says as soon as she walks into the room.

Cady feels her face crumple, and Janis wraps her in a tight hug as Cady lets out a quiet sob. "It's okay, Peanut, shh."

"It'll heal fine, no surgery needed. We call it a nondisplaced fracture, so none of your bones have actually moved out of where they're meant to be. You just need a cast for a little bit and you should be back to normal."

"So-so I'll still-still be able to-to cheer?"

"Not for six to eight weeks, but yes," the doctor replies with a smile. Janis squeezes her tighter as Cady releases a sob of relief.

"I told you," she murmurs, kissing Cady's cheek. Cady sniffles and leans into her shoulder. She needs Janis right now.

"Technically you broke your leg, the bottom part of your fibula here, and there's a hairline fracture in part of your tibia. But they're not displaced enough for you to need surgery, just a cast and no weight bearing for a good while."

"O-okay," Cady sniffs.

"You might wanna... de-elf yourself before we get the cast on, though. Unless you want to keep those tights for a few weeks."

Cady takes the wheel of possible cast colors and the pajamas Damian hands her from her bag. "These are cute! Where'd they come from?"

"Janis got them for me," Cady says with a sniffle as the doctor leaves and Janis and Damian both turn around to give her some privacy to change.

"Oh, did she now? How very soft of her," Damian hums. Janis shoves him. Damian sticks his tongue out in her general direction, unable to tell quite where she is with his hands firmly over his eyes.

"Shut up," Janis responds.

"Stop fighting, you can turn around now," Cady says once she's back in her comfy pajamas. "Which color cast should I get?"

"What's your favorite color?" Damian asks.

"Yellow," Cady replies.

"The purple is cool too," Janis says, tapping the little swatch of it. Cady nods.

Damian leans in close to see all the options. "I like the green."

"I like green," Cady acknowledges. "The Plastics will kill me if I get anything except pink, though."

"Pfft, who cares about them? Regina did this to you," Janis scoffs.

"Because we made her gain weight," Cady retaliates. "This light pink is cute."

"Do whatever you want, Cupcake."

"Cupcake?" Damian responds immediately, accompanied with a gag.

"Look at this little faaaaace," Janis coos, leaning harder into it and squishing Cady's cheeks rather than trying to fend off her friend. Cady goes along with it too, batting her eyelashes coquettishly at him. "Isn't she just the cutest widdle thing?"

"You two are gonna ruin my life together, aren't you?"

“Mm-hmm!" Cady hums happily, her cheeks still smushed in her girlfriend's hand. Damian rolls his eyes. Janis gives Cady's squished-out lips a kiss before she lets her go and smirks at her friend.

"You're the one who was literally speechless for four hours after we told you we were dating," she responds.

"I was in shock, shut up."

"Because your matchmaking never works?"

Damian huffs. "Whatever, it does."

"Name one time."

"This!" Damian insists, gesturing frantically between the two of them. Janis rolls her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Princess," she replies. Damian smiles.

"Thank you."

The doctor returns towards the tail end of that argument and shoots Cady a confused look. Cady just shrugs a little. She hands back all the cast swatches and goes with the light pink she had liked. She does really like it, and the Plastics won't crucify her for it. Well, they might anyway for what happened at the parade, and for needing a clunky, bulky cast in the first place. But at least this'll show she has decent taste and the ability to match.

Janis and Damian each take and squeeze one of her hands as her bones are painfully squished back where they need to be and wrapped in layers upon layers of fabric. The pink shell finishes the job, and Janis asks the doctor for a Sharpie so she and Damian can be the first to sign it.

"Do it small," Cady insists. Damian shoots her a strange look, but they both sign their names in the smallest letters they can right by her toes. Janis adds a little heart by hers for good measure. "Thanks, guys."

Cady gets fit for a set of crutches. It takes a while and she ends up with kids size ones, but eventually she's clicking slowly across the parking lot and finally on her way home.

"Jan, you wanna come over?" Damian asks. Cady pouts a little. She knows he and Janis are best friends, and that they definitely hang out without her sometimes, but it's not like Damian to ask with Cady right there.

"Nah, I gotta go get Stevie," Janis replies. Damian nods. Cady is confused when they pull into Janis' driveway. She should've been dropped off first. Her house is much further out of the way. "Bye Peanut."

Cady returns the kiss she gives. "Bye, baby."

Damian gags in the front seat. "Bye, dumbass."

"Bye, slut," Janis replies, blowing him a kiss as she climbs out of the car in the most complicated way she can and runs into her house.

Damian puts the car back in gear and keeps driving. Cady is more confused when they pull into his driveway. He turns the car off and gets out, leaving Cady alone in the backseat.

"You coming?" he asks, knocking on her window upon noticing she hasn't moved. Cady jumps.

“You're not taking me home?"

"I am not leaving you alone to navigate that house with one foot. But I'll take you home if you'd rather be there," Damian responds.

Cady shakes her head. "No. No, uh... thanks."

"Of course," Damian replies. "Now come on, cripple, my mom'll make us milkshakes."

"Your mom?" Cady asks with a smile.

"Oh, shit, you haven't met her yet! Uh, be ready for like, a lot of hugs. And she might cry. She's a big empath."

"Okay," Cady giggles. "She sounds great."

"She is," Damian says with a small smile. He unlocks the door and drops their stuff in the small area for shoes and coats and bags. "Ma, I'm home! And I brought Cady!"

Stanley comes running down the hall as soon as she hears the door. Damian protectively stands in front of Cady so the excited pup doesn't knock her over, but Cady smiles and rests her crutches against the wall so she can give the sweet little thing some scritches. "Hi, Stanley! How are you, baby girl?! Oh, yes, hi! I missed you too!"

"Stanley, gentle, Caddy's broken," Damian says. Stanley actually does calm a little bit, sniffing curiously at Cady and wagging her entire rear end instead of jumping on her like she did last time.

"Hey, baby girl!" Damian's mother greets, coming down the hallway in such a blaze of glory that it's immediately apparent where Damian gets his showmanship from. Cady looks up and smiles as she wraps him in a hug.

"Hi Ma," Damian responds, hugging his mom back and handing Cady her crutches again.

"How was the parade?" his mom asks, leading the two of them down the hall. She clocks Cady hobbling after them, then. "Ah."

"Yeah, she broke her ankle," Damian responds.

"At the parade?! Oh, honey!" his mom says immediately, wrapping Cady in such a tight hug she thinks she hears a few of her ribs pop. "You poor thing! Oh, come in, come in, sit down. Damian, help her to the living room, come on now."

"Can we go to my room instead?" Damian asks. His mom rolls her eyes.

"Yes, go ahead. It's on this floor, Cady, don't worry baby."

"Thanks, Ms. Hubbard," Cady replies with a smile. She gets another tight hug and actually has to cough a little when she's released to get her breathing back in a normal rhythm.

"Of course, baby! What kind of milkshakes do y'all want?"

"Oreo?" Damian suggests. Ms. Hubbard looks to Cady, and she nods eagerly. "Please."

"Coming right up."

"Thank you," Cady says as she's off back to the kitchen.

"Don't mention it, baby!" she calls back.

"Your mom is great," Cady says. Damian nods. Cady squeaks in surprise as he hauls her onto his back and starts carrying her down the hall towards his bedroom next to the garage.

"She is."

"She's very comforting," Cady continues. Damian nods again. "I see where you get it from."

"D'aww, thanks," Damian coos. He's actually blushing a little bit, and Cady smiles as he rests her down on his cushy bed. He fusses over her like a worried mother, helping her take her makeup and ears off as Cady looks around his bedroom for the first time. She's been here before for movie nights, but only ever in the basement.

None of the actual drywall is visible; completely plastered over with posters of drag queens and black-and-white photos of old Broadway stars. Cady can barely breathe for Judy Garland and Cher and RuPaul. There's fairy lights of all colors hanging from the crown molding, illuminating and twinkling over a full wall of Playbills in protective clear plastic sleeves. The furniture is a bit plain by comparison, but it all just feels like Damian's spirit has exploded into the room. It's amazing.

"Your room is so cool," Cady says.

"Thanks!"

"You have a lot of Playbills," Cady continues. "Have you actually seen that many shows?"

"God, no," Damian chuckles. "The top row there are the only ones I've seen in person, the rest are from eBay."

"Cool," Cady replies.

"Has Janis taught you about musicals yet?"

Cady shakes her head with a smile. "She said she wouldn't be able to do it justice."

Damian snorts. "Yeah, right. She just doesn't want to sit through them."

"She doesn't like them?"

"She only watches them once a year on my birthday and if I sing a lyric that could even approach being from a musical she'll punch me in the jugular."

"Really?"

Damian nods, fiddling with the mouse to wake up the computer and typing in his pin. "You've brought a lot of her walls down. So... thanks for that."

"I'm glad," Cady replies softly. "She deserves it."

"She does," Damian agrees. He shrugs suddenly. "Anyway, what do you want to watch?"

"You pick. I don't know anything," Cady giggles. Damian nods and opens a folder full of bootlegs. He murmurs the titles under his breath until he lands on a good first musical for her.

"Ooh! Okay, here, you'll love this one. The movie is good too, but the stage production is amazing."

Cady cuddles into his arm and peeks at the file name. She squeals, "Lions?!"

"Lions is an understatement for The Lion King," Damian says. Cady wiggles excitedly as he opens it and makes it full screen. "Can you see?"

"Mmhmm. Thanks, D."

"Anytime, Little Slice."

His mom pops in with their milkshakes a few minutes in and seems completely unphased seeing her son cuddled up with a girl she's known for fifteen minutes. Apparently this is normal for him. "Thank you, Ms. Hubbard."

"You're welcome, sweet girl. Y'all just holler if you need anything, alright? Ooh, Lion King. That's a good one," she replies as she leaves again.

"Cady's from Kenya," Damian explains.

"No shit?" his mom replies, making Cady choke on her milkshake in shock.

"Um, yeah, I just moved here this summer," she says.

"Ain't that something. Alright, have fun, you two."

"Thanks, Ma," Damian says as she shuts the door behind her.

They sip at their tasty milkshakes while they watch. Cady might be in love. She's immediately bopping along to all the musical numbers and oohing and aahing over the special effects.

Damian looks at her expectantly when the curtain call is over.

"That was so cool!" she squeals. "Can we watch it again?"

Damian laughs. "I'm glad you liked it. You like musicals now?"

Cady nods eagerly. "Yeah."

"Good," Damian says with a victorious smirk. He takes a picture of them cuddled up together and sends it to Janis with a caption reading, I win Caddy likes musicals. He gets an eye roll emoji in response and clicks off his phone with a smug grin. "Let's try something else, but we'll come back if you want to after."

"Okaaaaay," Cady huffs jokingly.

They watch about four more, occasionally shifting positions to keep comfy on Damian's plush bed. The milkshakes are long gone, but neither of them care.

"Thanks for taking care of me," Cady murmurs after the last one. Damian gently bumps into her.

"Anytime. Sorry Janis was busy, I know she wanted to be the one to kidnap you."

"No, it's okay," Cady says immediately. "I love her, but she'd be so worried she'd barely let me move. Not that that's bad, she's just... a lot, sometimes."

"You love her, eh?" Damian teases. Cady blushes. "Oh, shit, do you?"

"I mean... we've only been dating for a month," Cady begins hesitantly. "But... I might... already love her, like, a lot."

"D'aaawww, my little gaybies," Damian squeals.

"Shut up," Cady scoffs.

"She loves you too," Damian says matter-of-factly.

Cady looks at him. "She does?"

"I told you earlier. This bitch will not shut up about you. I've never seen her like this. It's kind of freaky," Damian chuckles. "Always, have you seen Caddy's eyes up close? They're such a pretty green. And she's sooooo tiiiiny, she just fits in my arms like a puzzle."

"She did not say that."

"On RuPaul she did."

Cady blinks. "Did I break her?"

"Honestly? Maybe. But I like it. She's annoying sometimes, but this Janis seems... healthier."

"Good," Cady replies.

"You, on the other hand," Damian replies, looking pointedly at her left foot. Cady giggles.

"It's fixed, I'll be okay," she replies.

"You got lucky there, kid. I really thought you were gonna need surgery," Damian says.

"I did too, honestly," Cady admits.

"...And now I think about it, Regina is a little chubbier."

"Right? It totally worked!" Cady squeals. Damian laughs. "Now we just have to get people to stop treating her like the queen bee and get Aaron out of her clutches."

"Godspeed, soldier. Doing the lord's work," Damian says with a salute. Cady giggles. "Do you, like, wanna go home?"

Cady sighs. "I should."

"Bitch, is that what I asked? Do you want to or not?" Damian insists.

"I mean... it's always weird there without my parents," Cady mumbles, fidgeting with her fingers. "But I don't wanna impose."

"Hold on," Damian says. Cady jumps when he turns his head to the side and hollers, "Ma!"

"What?!" his mother yells back.

"Can Cady sleep over?!"

"Her folks okay with it?!"

"Your folks okay with it?" Damian asks Cady in a much, much softer tone. Cady nods in confusion. Damian yells back, "Yeah!"

"Then she's always welcome! Dinner's in half an hour!" his mom replies.

"Thank you!" Cady yells.

"You're welcome, baby!"

"See? Problem solved," Damian says. Cady giggles.

"You're the best, D."

"And don't you forget it."

————-

thank you for reading!!

i have a oneshot coming for y'all on wednesday that i'm very (cautiously) excited about and am working myself to the bone trying to get the next chapter of this and another oneshot done per my usual "schedule" if you can call it that lol.

i apologize for not being more prepared but i spent most of february auditioning for the tour!! so that took a lot of my focus but it's done now and i am back in as full of a swing as i can get lol.

so fingers crossed! and if i don't get it done in time you'll just get three of each with my next round of fics :)

thank you all so much again for being here. i love every little one of you muppets so dearly.

lots of love,

ezzy

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls musical #mean girls the musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls on broadway #mean girls 2024 #cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #janis ian #janis ‘imi’ike #picking teams

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thesims4blogger · 1 year ago

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The Sims 4: New Game Patch (July 18th, 2023)

There is a new game update for The Sims 4, preparing the game for the Horse Ranch Expansion Pack release this Thursday (July 20th).

This patch brings several bug fixes as well as new features, like paintable ceilings and “free camera mode” on Build/Buy Mode.

Your game should now read: PC: 1.99.264.1030/ Mac: 1.99.264.1230 / Console: Version 1.75.

Hello Simmers!

Those horses will be comin’ round the mountain in just a few days. To get ready for their arrival in The Sims 4 Horse Ranch Expansion Pack, we have rounded up a number of exciting Base Game updates and bug fixes to share with you. Let’s get into it.

-SimGuruGeorge

What’s New?

First off, let me introduce SimGuruAsh.

Heya, Simmers! Today’s update has an array of new hairs and Create a Sim presets.

Braids and long, flowing hair is important to the cultural identity of Indigenous People in America. To reflect this in-game, we are enthused to add three hairstyles in the form of a Double Braid, Single Braid, and Lengthened Hair that extends down to your Sims mid-back.

For our East Asian Sims, we have a large selection of new Eye Presets and Brows in tapered, straight, and wavy shapes.

You’ll also see three new under-eye bags in the Eye Details category.

To bring something delicious to the table, the Three Sisters Chili is now available to cook on the grill. In Native American tradition, “the three sisters” are corn, beans, and squash. They grow best together in the same plot. The eldest sister, corn, provides a strong foundation for the beans to climb. The beans enrich the soil with nitrogen. The youngest sister, squash, covers the ground, protecting all of their roots.

We can’t wait to see what kinds of Sims and stories you create with this update!

SimGuruGeorge back now. Traits have had a bit of a reorganization. You will now find traits more evenly distributed under the Emotional, Hobby, Lifestyle, and Social categories

I’m so excited to tell you about Ceilings! The ability to apply colors and patterns to the ceilings is now yours. When you open up Build Mode you will find the update where you would previously apply Floor Patterns (now renamed Floor and Ceiling Patterns). Simply select Ceilings by Tile or Ceilings by Room. Then select your pattern and apply it to the ceiling of your choice. This does not apply to the underside of roofs.

You can now enter Free Camera in Build Mode to get the best look at those Ceilings. Simply enable it as you would in Live Mode. There are a number of Wall, Floor, Fence and Door patterns which have been updated with additional colors. The full list is below so you can find these updates in your game.

New color variants have been added for the following wall patterns

Essence of Pastel

Desert Skies

Above Deck

New color variants have been added for the following wood floor patterns

Heartwood Plank Flooring

ForestFine Wood Flooring

Elegant Parquet Flooring

Herringbone Hardwood Flooring

Rustic Subfloor Slats

Bowl of Cherrywood Floors

Chestnut Flooring

Kwality Wide Plank Flooring

Old World Wide Plank Flooring

Walk the Short Plank Hardwood Floors

Eco-Craft Hardwood Flooring

Handscraped Wood Flooring

Limber Lumber Fashion Hardwoods

Chipper Tanbark

New color variants have been added for the following stone or brick floor patterns

Perfect Pebble Paver

Throwback Cobblestone & Brick Pavers

A Clean Slate Tile

Great Gravel

High-Style Concrete

No Moss Stone Pavers

Antique Stone Tile

Rockstone Pavers

Rustic Sandstone

Concrete Pavers with Gravel Accent

Quaint Flagstone

Brick and Blush

Dulcet Duet, Brick & Plaster, and Plaster Makes Perfect wall patterns have been updated with matching color variants.

New color variants added for Ladder-Style Horizontal Fencing.

New color variants have been added for the Simple Single-Panel Door as its own door, the Simple Single-Panel Door – Ranch.

Bug Fixes

Consoles

Fixed an issue where the cursor would become unresponsive after selecting an aspiration.

When reviewing the “My Packs” tab in the Main Menu, Players will now see Growing Together first when selecting that pack.

The Sims 4 Live Mode

Sims now more consistently wash hands in the sink closest to the toilet.

The Items Removed error message will no longer appear if you own everything on the lot.

The Have a Baby Neighborhood Story will no longer cause pregnancies for Sims that are listed as unable to become pregnant in their Gender Settings.

Knafeh now remains visible even from a distance. If you have not tried this delicious dessert in real life, we highly recommend it!

The R&B station now includes ”BMO” by Ari Lennox, ”breathe again” by Joy Oladokun, and ”Blessed” by Becca Hatch & Tentendo.

Flowers no longer sometimes break when loading a saved game..

Sims now receive satisfaction points from confronting their Fears.

Reaching the top of the Military Career will now reward the player with the appropriate celebration screen.

The ‘Help with Needs’ animation on Infants now is smoother when a Sim picks them up.

Cleaned up animations for Teenage Sims while they are angry, seated, and focusing on a Sim adjacent to them.

Build Mode

Stacking intersecting curved walls on top of each other no longer creates gaps in the ceiling of the lower room.

Doors can now be placed on the wall under circular roofs.

Interior corner walls with stilt foundations can now be deleted.

Curved walls no longer cause seam lines to appear on terrain

Raising terrain and then undoing that height adjustment or placing a platform no longer prevents objects from being placed in that area.

Fixed a rare issue where placing stairs at the edge of a platform would cause floating planks to appear above the stairs.

Raising and lowering a platform with stairs attached no longer sometimes cuts out a segment of the wall.

The Sinks category icon in Build Mode now lines up perfectly.

Double and single gates no longer sometimes pop up one floor level when being placed on exterior fence walls.

Players will now be able to click and drag the sledgehammer across curved walls to delete them.

Stair railings have been added to multiple pre-built homes. Safety prevails!

Create a Sim

When using a mirror, applied skin details are now saved after exiting Create a Sim.

When using a mirror, birthmark skin details are now saved after reentering Create a Sim.

The tops ymTop_SDX016Rolled_HeatherDustyPink and ymTop_SDX016TouristShirt_TropicalRed no longer give female Sims rough shapes.

Fixed an issue where the jersey (yfTop_EF26HHCJerseyMrCartoon_ButterflyBlue) caused incorrect fingernail colors to display.

The tank top yfTop_TankShort_SolidBlueNavy now tucks underneath pants, skirts, shorts, etc.

Create a Sim UI has been updated so that the Select Traits title won’t overlap with other visual elements.

Misc

Entering the wrong Twitter credentials or completing the email verification requirement no longer causes the game to crash.

The game now gracefully handles disconnecting Bluetooth devices.

Get to Work

The Robot on the Invention Constructor will now respond to requests to chat.

Invention Constructors have been repaired. They now properly display their holographic displays in the construction area and not on top of the Sim operating the device.

Sims in the Doctor Career can now calibrate X-ray Machines. This info has been added to their medical training.

Alien fertility increased. Male Sims that are abducted by Aliens can now get pregnant.

Cats & Dogs

Townie Sims no longer occasionally unleash their Dogs before walking out of a neighborhood. There will be no more flashbacks to Seymour waiting in front of a pizza shop.

Paint Mode for Dogs had a white swatch that now properly is brown..

Seasons

Hang This Support Beam spandrel no longer turns white when it snows outside.

Interactions for lighting a Menorah or Kinara now have unique icons.

The interaction to build a Snowpal will no longer fail while visiting Mt. Komorebi.

The outfits ymBody_EP05SkateOutfit_swanGray and ymBody_EP05SuitVelvet_SolidBlack no longer distort Sims legs.

Get Famous

Hairstyles unlocked by the Acting Career now show all newly added hair swatches.

Island Living

Mermaids previously would not die due to starvation or aging up. That has been fixed. Remember to feed your Mermaids!

[MAC] Fixed a small shader issue on the Lagoon Look lot in Sulani.

Discover University

Listen To interaction has been added to the Party-Bot.

Thick window frames will no longer stick out when the camera pans behind them.

The amount of Robotic Scrap gained when performing an Experiment on a Chemistry Lab has been tuned down.

Sims will now get a 200 simoleon higher bonus for starting the Chef Career track after getting a university degree. It practically pays for itself.

Eco Lifestyle

Fixed an issue where the Wood Ear Plugs (yfAcc_EarringsEP09EarPlugsWood) appeared discolored when paired with specific hairstyles.

Fixed a rare issue where the Eco Inspector would still issue fines to Households that had upgraded their appliances.

Fixed an issue where Neighboring Sims could not be sent home. Neighborly manners have been repaired.

Removed a duplicate Place in World interaction that appeared on Trash Fruit in the Sim’s inventory.

Snowy Escape

Ski Boots no longer appear in the ‘Change Outfit’ picker. Sims will also remove Ski Boots when bathing. A ‘Take Off Snow Boots’ interaction has been added.

Hang This Support Beam from the Seasons Expansion Pack no longer appears blank when placed on the Yukimatsu lot.

Fixed an issue where Snowy Escape Doors would cause a small shift in the wallpaper on the wall they were placed on.

Cottage Living

Animals no longer age up and die when the ‘Animal Aging’ option is turned off in Game Settings.

Fixed an issue where Earbuds would occasionally play multiple songs at the same time when listening to Cottage Core music.

Cows and Llamas come out of their sheds autonomously and no longer are unhappy when their shed is clean and full with feed.

Fixed a few cases where Sims would not autonomously choose to Knit & Cross Stitch.

Sims are now able to socialize with Rabbits.

Fixed an issue where Chickens would not eat treats.

Residents of Henford-on-Bagley will less often mention how local residents are in need of help.

Animal friends now appear in the Relationship Panel filter for ‘Friends’.

Various translation fixes have been applied to the Wild Rabbit Home.

The Start Gardening Help for All Rabbit Residents interaction is no longer missing from the Wild Rabbit Home.

Rooster images now show more of the Rooster.

Matzah Ball Soup and Challah now are available for the Simple Living Lot Challenge.

Sims now immediately join cooking during the Cook together with interaction.

High School Years

Sims will no longer return from work or school early on the day they change the color of their Phone Case.

Townie Sims are no longer all pansexual.

Ship to Buyer no longer breaks when the Sim replaces the Mailbox on their home lot. Trendi sales can now be completed.

The Want to Listen to Music has been tuned to occur less frequently.

Fixed High School Years hairstyles that were applying hair color to Sim’s ears.

Fixed an issue where Teen Sims would stay at Career Day too long which prevented them from serving detention. This would then get them expelled.

Fixed an issue where Sims who left graduation early were occasionally stuck in their graduation outfits.

Infants and Toddlers no longer use the same animation as adults when using the EZ Access Window object.

Fixed rare situations where the Angry About Crush sentiment was triggering incorrectly.

The Ask about Graduation interaction is no longer available on Sims that haven’t been greeted.

Growing Together

Karmine Luna no longer appears with a random personality trait in each new save.

Broken objects on Activity Tables no longer are observed when placed in Treehouses.

Fixed a rare issue where food made by Eleanor Sullivan could not be cleaned up.

Fixed unusual cases of Adult Sims refusing to pick up and interact with Toddlers that had returned from daycare until those Toddlers had changed outfits.

During the New Born’s Age Up interaction, the Baby’s First Rug object is now placed in more appropriate locations.

Fixed an issue in specific languages where the Title on the Self-Discovery Personality Trait pop up would overlap with other text on the screen.

Sims sitting on couches can now perform social Crib interactions.

Dine Out

Fixed a rare issue when running a restaurant where Hosts and Chefs were not able to be hired from the Manage Employees menu.

Fixed an issue where sometimes opening the Sim Profile of a Chef would instead open the Sim Profile of the last Sim the player had looked at.

Vampires

Vampire Sims can now do group dances on the dance floor.

Realm of Magic

Sims now hold Valerian Root properly when eating it from Inventory.

Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

The Batuu Radio Stations are now available for Likes and Dislikes in the Music Genre category in Create a Sim.

Dream Home Decorator

Sim Preferences now support custom pronouns in English.

My Wedding Stories

Fixed pricing for a few pack items.

Dance floors now have the ‘Dancing skill’ tag in Build Mode

Decorative objects now have an ‘Environment’ value.

Werewolves

Players are now able to add, change, or modify body scars during the game.

Moon textures are no longer the same in all worlds.

Added new Clean Up Books interaction on most genre books (not including homework or skill books) that are in the open street and not owned by the Player’s Sim . This will allow books to be cleaned up.

Movie Hangout

Sims can now watch TV without needing player direction.

Knifty Knitting

Added new text to show that Sim’s are able to knit onesies for Infants and Babies as well

Moschino

Moschino item prices have been adjusted to fit the style.

Bust the Dust

Vacuum Cleaner game performance now is even more… sucky…. In a good way, of course.

Courtyard Oasis

The ‘Functional Off-The-Grid’ stat has been added to the Sunset Glow Lantern object and the incorrect ‘Power Consumption Rating’ on the object has been fixed.

Items from Courtyard Oasis Kit, Industrial Loft Kit, Decor to the Max Kit, and Little Campers Kit have been tuned to have more sensible pricing and environment values.

Carnaval Streetwear

The Carnaval Radio Station is now available for Likes and Dislikes in the Music Genre category in Create a Sim.

#news #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #game patch #updates

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