#and then the picnic itself was. fine. objectively. good! objectively.

[pentanguine]

The next time I’m tempted to have a robust social life, someone remind me: DON’T

[milkiane]

I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU. eddie munson.

navigation - masterlist - taglist

summary: the four times eddie knew he was a goner and the one time he told you.

warnings: no spoilers! don’t worry, you’re safe here. profanities. gif credits to @his-name-is-ed <3

word count: 5.1k

i. the first time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he found out that you love mötley crüe. 

eddie knows his presence is hard to miss. aside from his wild hair and clothing choices, which apparently do not fit the social standards, he makes it exceptionally difficult for people to ignore him. 

and yet, on a particular, normal, chilly friday in the school field, you effortlessly grab his attention. you didn’t need crazy hair or seeking clothes or loud eccentric speeches on top of a cafeteria table. you’re just… sitting there with a frown on your face and eddie thinks…

eddie can’t think. his mind draws blank as he continues to stare at you.

so like dominoes, his abrupt stop results in the rest of the hellfire club bumping into him, which causes a streak of groans and complaints, but eddie pays them no mind because as if his legs have a mind of their own, they bring him right to you. “carry on without me, my little sheep, destiny awaits!”

you groan in annoyance, slamming your hand onto your malfunctioning walkman. “stupid, stupid, little shi-”

“y’know, i don’t think mauling the poor thing will make it work.” 

you look up at the voice with a glare, your face softens just a bit after seeing it was eddie, but the glare prevails nevertheless, still frustrated with your walkman.

“i mean, sure, i guess that could make it work, too,” eddie shrugs, hopping on top of the picnic table instead of sitting on the benches like a normal person.

“it will work,” you grit your teeth, hitting the side of the device as it did nothing to fix the distorted voice of vince neil. “it just needs a bit of tough love.”

after watching you for a few more minutes with an amused smile, eddie snatches it out of your hands, convinced that you would break it if it doesn’t revive the next second. he ignores your objections as he opens his black metal lunchbox.

“it’s not a lunchbox,” he absentmindedly retorts to your murmur as he goes through his things, silently muttering a quiet no, not this, nope, what the hell is this? and finally, aha!

he raises a mini screwdriver before you as if it will magically take your problems away. “this, my lady, will magically take your problems away.”

huh. 

you hesitantly watch as eddie pops open your walkman, taking out the mixtape to find the tape itself burst out of its case. he tinkers and meddles with it carefully, doing wonders as he manually rewinds it. 

you use his current distraction to take a good look at him. you’ve seen him around the school; in class, in the hallways, at the cafeteria, but you’ve never crossed the borders of his personal bubble or actually spoken to him until now.

he isn’t a bad sight to see. 

his hair, although gone rogue, looks so soft that you physically have to restrain yourself from touching it. he has tattoos inked on his skin, slightly covered by his hellfire shirt as if teasing you and leaving you wanting to see more. beautiful silver rings graced his fingers making you want to study each intricate detail that embellished the jewelry.

his tongue is poking out of his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. his nose is slightly crooked as if it’s been broken before. he has dimples piercing his cheeks and the lightest of freckles sprinkled over his face, only noticeable if kissed under the sun.

all things considered, eddie munson is a sight for sore eyes.

“are you done staring, sweetheart?” eddie teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “if you’d like, i can pose for you on this table.”

you were too deep in your reveries that you didn’t notice he was done. you blink up at him and scoff. “shut up, i wasn’t staring.”

“it’s fine, y’know, it’s normal to stare at pretty things.” he encourages you, satirically playing with his hair. “especially if you’re one of those connoisseurs of art.”

“wow, someone learned a new word today.” you praise him sarcastically.

“now, now, y/n, is that a way to treat someone who just fixed your lil walkman?” eddie chastises, grabbing your headphones from your neck and putting it on his ears. “what were you listening to anyway?”

he gives it a few seconds before the familiar music comes in. he whips his head towards you with a slack jaw. he winces, his hand coming in contact with his neck, massaging the pain from snapping his head towards you too fast.

… i've been a poet always tongue in cheek,

i've seen some scenes man you'd never believe,

and like a supercharged rocket ride,

you know they'd have gasoline if they had the time.

“you- you listen to mötley crüe!” eddie blurts out, standing on the picnic table and pointing an accusatory finger at you. “you’re one of us!”

“shut up!” you pull him back down with a yank. you can still hear angela blasting through your headphones. you look at him with a sigh before muttering. “i love mötley crüe.”

eddie lets out a choked laugh, jumping off the table and squishing your cheeks with his hands. “you’re a cute little metal freak!”

“shut up, munson! you better get your hands off my face or so help me god.”

it came out as gibberish but the point came across. 

“you say ‘shut up’ too much, is that your favorite word?” eddie calls into question, leaning closer to you with a roguish grin. his gaze flickers down to your pouting lips before staring straight into your eyes. “i can teach you more ways to shut me up, y’know?”

“scout’s honor that it’s even more efficacious than the words itself.” he winks at you before grabbing his lunchbox, leaving you bewildered and baffled beyond belief. mötley crüe did not do anything to blur the forming thoughts in your head.

that was strike one for eddie munson.

ii. the second time eddie knew he was a goner was when… you knocked someone out cold with a box of frozen waffles.

you shouldn’t have been out at an ungodly hour, quite frankly, but you really, really, wanted some eggos. so clad in sweats and an oversized shirt, you walk out of bradley’s big buy with three boxes of mini waffles in hand.

and as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with only one interaction, you hear eddie munson’s voice. “hey, come on, man. you’ve been my client for over a year now and you’re only doubting me now?”

“we talked about fifteen grams, munson, so i’m expecting fifteen grams.” 

eddie sighs, rubbing his tired face with his hand. they’ve been going back and forth and he was starting to get annoyed. he wasn’t even supposed to be dealing right now, but when money calls, you answer it. 

“look, man. it’s fifteen. if you don’t believe me, give me the money, go find a weighing scale, and weigh your shit. it’s fifteen grams.” he says, grabbing his lunchbox, but just as he wrapped his fingers on the handle, he gets shoved to the ground, his things crashing with him, skin scratched from catching himself on the rough pavement.

motherfucker.

“hey!” you didn’t want to. you really didn’t want to, but before you can think twice, you get in between eddie and the ridiculously tall buff guy.

you should really start thinking twice.

said guy, although high as a kite, looks at the box of eggos on the floor and back at you. you had thrown a box of waffles at his head.

“take your fifteen grams and leave,” you order calmly, ignoring the whispers of objections of eddie, who immediately stands up at lightspeed, startled by your sudden presence.

“i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and your little druggy friend, a’ight?” he sneers, pushing you aside to grab eddie by his shirt. “besides, the fuck do you know about packing shit right?”

“i know how to pack a punch, for starters.”

you didn’t give him or eddie to process your words before, CRACK! your fist comes in contact with his nose — a sickening crunch and a cry had them both freezing, well, except for the junkie clutching his nose.

“you bitch!” 

with the throbbing pain of your knuckles, you could only whack him across his face with the box of waffles in your hand as he leaped to get you. 

eddie, still frozen in his spot, can only watch in both horror and amazement as the guy gets knocked out cold, face kissing the sidewalk. 

“holy shit…”

“how much did he owe you?” you huff, clutching your victimized hand as you stand over the guy. 

“twenty.” he blinks.

you shrug, digging a hand in the jean pocket of the junkie and placing the crumpled bills in eddie’s hand. “twenty-five for being a shithead.”

eddie took you out for some ice cream treat after that.

“remind me to never get on your nerves, you scare me,” he said, but there was no real fear behind his words, just a twinge of wonder in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes.

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to, so you just grinned at him before taking a scoop out of his ice cream.

and at that moment, under the moonlight with frozen waffles aiding your knuckles and discarded ice cream cups on top of his van, eddie just knew that you would stick around. 

and the rest was history.

that was strike two for eddie munson.

iii. the third time eddie knew he was a goner was when… traces of you were slowly starting to bleed into his life, and he didn’t mind.

“is this… MADONNA?”

eddie snaps his head towards the curly-headed boy in his passenger seat, eyes widening at the sight of the manifold of mixtapes that sits on dustin’s lap.

he splutters incoherent excuses as he chucks them back into his glovebox, a hand still on the wheel as he tries to keep the van steady. 

dustin watches in amusement as eddie fumbles with the mixtape that fell from his grasp. he snatches it out of his mentor’s hand and snickers, “wow, abba, too? didn’t know you were such a pioneer of music, eddie.”

eddie thwacks him with the d&d gazette before turning his eyes back on the road. “those aren’t mine.”

it was his. you left it for him.

dustin squints his eyes at his friend as if staring at him like that will force him to tell the truth, and it almost did, but thankfully, he chooses to go through the mixtape-filled glovebox again instead.

you brought half of your mixtapes with you when eddie had asked you to accompany him on a spontaneous road trip out of town one day. he always looks back to that moment.

you were passionately talking about the songs that graced your diverse music taste, hands animatedly moving around as words spew out of your mouth every millisecond. he understood every single thing you said, though.

just because you love mötley crüe doesn’t mean you don’t love starship. you love kiss but you also love the beatles. you love metallica but you also love bee gees, and maybe he was starting to like it, too. 

if you ask eddie, he’ll choose cyndi lauper’s time after time as his slow dance song. absolutely irrelevant yet very relevant.

“why the hell are you smiling like a crazy man?” dustin pokes his cheeks, effectively snapping him out of his daydream.

eddie slaps his hands away from his face.

aside from mixtapes in his glovebox, eddie also has a special drawer with the clothes you often leave at his house, and with the best detergent he has – a discounted brand from a dollar store – he voluntarily washes it for you to wear next time.

 “did… did you wash my clothes?” he remembers you asking the first time.

he turns away from his notebook to look at you. “uh, yeah. you left some of your stuff here and i decided to include it with mine last wash day.”

“oh,” you beam, pulling the material to your nose and breathing it in. “thanks, babe.”

eddie ignores the warmth of his cheeks and goes back to doodling in his notebook. “‘course, would you like me to wear a maid outfit while i’m at it next time?”

you laugh. “i’d like that very much.”

you bring the soft fabric back to your nose, it smells just like him.

you start leaving more clothes in his room after that.

that was strike three for eddie munson.

iv. the fourth time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he wanted to be the best version of himself whenever you’re around.

“okay, so i have a bag of those honeycomb cereal you like, some pringles, juice boxes, pints of ice cream…”

as you continue to list off the snacks you brought for the d&d campaign with the boys, eddie leans forward to buckle your seatbelt, letting you catch a whiff of his cologne. he tugs it twice to make sure it’s fastened properly. “safety first.”

you pause. “you literally never wear your seatbelt.”

“that’s because i sold my soul to the devil for immortality,” eddie pats your thigh before backing out of your driveway. “and because it will cause a decline in my precious reputation!”

“what, common road safety?” you snort. “do tell, kind sir, what would the great eddie munson be known for?”

“you don’t know?” he scoffs in mock disbelief. “i’m an evil self-proclaimed attention whore – i’m known for a lot of things, sweetheart.”

“speaking of being an attention whore,” you gravitate towards him to sniff him again. “are you wearing a new perfume, munson?”

“sit back down, dumbass! and it’s cologne, not perfume.”

“same shit. are you trying to impress someone?” you tease, settling down back in your seat before letting out an overdramatic gasp. “is it dustin? is it because he’s been hanging out with steve the past week?”

“what? no!” he wavers for a moment before sniffing himself. “why? does it smell bad?”

you laugh. “no, no. i actually like it better than your old one.”

“good, i bought it especially for you.” he winks, turning the volume of the music up before you can even reply.

“i can’t believe erica rolled a d20!” eddie exclaims, packing up the boards.

“and twice,” you agree. 

as usual, you and eddie stayed back after the campaign, ushering the kids — and gareth and the group — out of the room as soon as you heard the distant rumble of the sky. you knew they’d be biking home, so you asked them to leave early, much to your best friend’s displeasure.

you pick up the empty chip bags and discarded juice boxes, prolonging the chat you’re having with eddie.

mid-conversation, you lean against his throne, garbage bag in your hands. he was talking animatedly and you’re not quite sure what he’s even talking about anymore.

the lights of the room give him a glow that makes your heart beam. the perfect combination of green, orange, and blue; it makes him look like a fallen angel. a devil in disguise. the right fusion of both.

his eyes are soft, it’s kind. his smile is, too. everything about him is. he doesn’t show anyone, but you always get the opportunity to see a part of him that makes you fall in love with him even more.

“…and then just as i was about to dream of rubbing their loss in their puny little faces — she slaps me with a crit hit! that’s twice!”

“yeah,” you whisper, a gentle smile on your lips. you push yourself off the chair and start helping him around the room. “maybe it’s a sign that you’re getting a bit rusty, buzz.”

“drop it with the nickname! it’s been years and i was only forced to have it shaved after stupid anthony chopped my hair nasty in history.”

you double down in laughter. “and wayne has been so gracious enough to show me the pictures.”

eddie glares at you before running towards you. you only advance two steps away from him before he catches you from behind and pulls you against him.

“salvage yourself, you insolent little minx.”

“no! i shan’t yield!”

giggles escape both of your lips, sounds slowly getting muffled by the drops of rain starting to patter one by one, making you and eddie stop in your tracks.

you exchange wide-eyed glances before hurrying with the packing.

you run out of the building, shoes splashing over the formed puddles, you didn’t even notice eddie shrug his jacket off to shield both of you from the rain. 

a few meters from his van, you pull away from him and let the water hit you, dampening your clothes all within a second. 

“what the hell are you doing?” eddie shouts over the loud pour.

“come on!” you pull him towards you, cold hands grasping his warm ones, you dance in the rain.

eddie watches you in disbelief, though there’s a smile on his face. “fuck it,” he mutters. “wait here.”

he runs to his van, almost slipping on the wet ground. “i’m okay!”

“idiot.” you snort.

eddie opens the door to the passenger seat and opens the glovebox. he grabs a random mixtape and fumbles to put it in the player, only then realizing that he didn’t even start the van. 

a minute or two later of waiting, you hear a bees gees song blast from eddie’s van. 

“come on, baby,” he whoops, grabbing your hands as he starts shimmying. “let’s dance!”

you let out a blissful laugh as he twirls you around. you jump around in the puddles, soaked clothes slightly weighing you down from being drenched. you attempt to twirl eddie around, too, which was a struggle due to his height.

he sings along to the song and you gasp in surprise. “you know this song?”

“do i- do i know this song?” he repeats in incredulity. “of course, i do! i’m in-”

adrenaline getting to his head, eddie realizes what he was about to say so he rectifies it. “you only sing it every second of the day. that damn song is engraved in my head!”

he pulls you back against him with a grin, a hand intertwined with yours and another supporting your back. he dips you, and you yelp in surprise.

the both of you are panting from all the dancing, but the smiles never left your face. you stare at his face, he stares at yours. you tuck a wet strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand rest on his jaw. he has a light stubble.

his eyes flicker to your lips, you do the same.

should i kiss him? should i not kiss him?

the loud boom of the thunder makes the decision for the two of you. the sound startles both of you, resulting in jumping away from each other faster than the next flash of lightning.

“we should head home if we still want to have this movie marathon,”

“yeah.”

eddie goes over his thoughts for a moment as you adjust the heater of the van. he recollects the resolution he made earlier, pondering over the idea of being the best version of himself though he already feels like he became it the first time he met you. how can one become the best-est best version of themselves?

that was strike four for eddie munson. 

but for you… you lost count of how many it’s been because every day with eddie adds a tally to your strikes.

v. the time eddie tells you how he’s a goner for you.

“harrington? fucking harrington?”

“it’s a friendly date, buzz,” you point out, hand steady as you do your eyeliner in his bedroom mirror.

“with harrington?” he stresses, his own hands tugging at his brown locks.

“yes, eddie.” you sigh, it’s been a repetitive back and forth. “it’s not a date date. it’s friendly, as i said. robin will be there.”

he sits up against the wall, lips moving before his brain can process his words. “well, if buckley’s gonna be there then what else does he want with you?”

you pause, dropping your hand to look at him. “okay, ouch.”

“no, i-” he groans dramatically into his hands. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just- i don’t understand why you have to spend a perfectly great night with harrington-”

“and robin.”

“-and robin, when you can just spend it with me.” eddie pouts. he sounds pathetic, he knows, but he’s jealous. what if you decide to leave him for steve? – and although he understands; it’s steve harrington, for god’s sake. he would, too, if he can – life would have no other purpose for him if you do.

“aww,” you mimic his pout, walking over to him to pat his cheeks. “don’t worry, hotshot, you’re still my favorite boy.”

“whatever,” he swats your hands away, though the grin tugging at the corner of his lips persists. he takes his time admiring you properly. you looked gorgeous, as always.

“c’mon, you big baby,” you protested. “robin will be there! plus, you can always come wi-”

“well, why didn’t you say so?” he exclaims, leaping towards the door clad in his hellfire shirt and boxers. “let’s go! we better get goi-”

you throw his jeans at him. “for your modesty.”

eddie was glad he came along. he looks at you with clear fondness, watching as your eyes light up like a child on christmas day. you jump in excitement, dragging him into the fair. 

“hey, you made it!” steve jogs towards you, but then his eyes flicker to your company. “…and munson.”

“harrington,” eddie grins, a hint of mischief in the glint of his smile as he bows to him.

you roll your eyes at them. “where’s robin?”

“right here, lovebug,” she smiles, offering you a pink cotton candy as she takes a bite off the blue one. steve’s mouth slowly falls slack in bewilderment.

“aww, my favorite,” you pout your lips as you clink your sweets like glasses of wine. 

“that’s mine!”

“buy your own cotton candy, dingus,”

“you paid for those with my money.”

eddie pays them no mind as they continue to bicker. he snatches a piece of cotton candy as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “i see a kissing booth we can go to… the marriage booth, too, maybe?”

“stop,” you smack his arm. “let’s start with the basketball — eddie, they’ve got those big teddy bears!”

“well, the night is young, sweetheart,”

the night is young, indeed. you go around the fair with the group, steve has the giant teddy bear propped on his shoulders as if it was his child — “he is!” he argued. “his name is harry harrington.”

“harry harrington?” you had asked in incredulity. “that’s a shit name, steve!”

he gasped in mock offense, bringing the bear down to cover its ears. “don’t listen to her, harry, she’s just jealous you aren’t hers.”

eddie’s jealous he isn’t yours, too, but he wasn’t going to say that. 

you felt as if you’ve managed to go through every single booth but according to the map robin had somehow snatched, there were more than half of it you have yet to explore.

“c’mon, there’s a ball toss over there,” eddie says, grabbing your arm to drag you away from steve. “gonna win you that giant fucking elephant.”

although as soon as you stop by before it, eddie does a double-take. “six dollars?”

“six dollars.” the merchant confirms.

he looks at you and whispers in disbelief. “six dollars?”

you shrug at him, letting out a chuckle at his expression. “capitalism, baby,”

eddie sighs. he’s glad he brought his wallet with him. he’s willing to spend all of his income if it meant getting you that elephant — and he will.

“we don’t have to, you know,” you reassure him, eyeing him as he reaches out for the dollars. “there’s still a lot of booths we can go to.”

“nah, i’m getting you that elephant.” he slams the money on the counter. the merchant smirks. three balls.

eddie grabs one and exhales. “wish me luck.”

he throws the ball, and again, and then again. and then he slams more money onto the counter, and then again, and again. 

his aim’s good, but not enough to knock all the cans down. steve and robin managed to do a round before returning to the both of you with corndogs in hand.

with his promise of a last round, he sighs at the sight of what’s left of the standing cans. he gives you the last ball.

“are you sure?” you hesitate.

“do the honors, my lady,” eddie smiles, eyes so soft that subtle crinkles show at the corners. 

and with a swift throw, you somehow manage to knock down all of the cans. you and eddie whoop in excitement, jumping up and down as the merchant sighs exasperatedly, grabbing your oversized prize.

“oh my god,” you whisper, hugging the elephant to your chest. “it’s so fluffy!”

eddie looks at you with a dopey lovesick smile. maybe it was the sparkling fairy lights overhead, or the distant music playing, or maybe it was because you’re practically bouncing off the balls of your feet, a giddy smile adorning your lips… or maybe it was because eddie cannot take it any longer so he says, “i’m in love with you.”

you falter for a bit, uncertain if you heard him correctly. “what?”

and steve, who had initially asked you on a date — although as friendly as he claims — leans against the wooden pillar, face contorting in realization, lips forming into an unmistakable o as he grasps what is happening.

robin grins, a quiet finally! unleashing from her lips. to give you two some privacy, well, as private as a conversation in a public place can be, she drags steve to a very friendly competition of high strikers. steve lets her, sending eddie an encouraging thumbs up. 

“i-i’m in love with you,” eddie repeats, voice wavering at your blank expression. he couldn’t read you and it’s making him anxious. “i’m so terribly and undeniably in love with you – i knew i did the moment you said you love mötley crüe.”

you let yourself feel all the emotions bursting in all at once. he likes you. eddie munson likes you, so you ask stupidly, “are you sure?”

eddie scoffs a laugh. “am i- am i sure? are you asking me if i’m sure about my own feelings?”

you shrug.

he looks at you before breaking into a run without another word.

“eddie, where are you going?” you call out frantically. 

eddie eyes the haystacks in the center of the park and clumsily mounts on them and nearly falls. he catches himself before he can tumble down. his eyes flicker to yours as he cups his hands over his mouth. “fair people of hawkins, i have an announcement to make!”

“what is he doing?” steve asks as he and robin appear from beside you. 

“i have no idea.”

some people stop by to watch, some go on with whatever it is they were doing, and you just stand where you’re planted, unsure of what he’s about to do and what you’re supposed to do.

“i, eddie munson, a self-proclaimed attention whore, have something very important to say.” he starts – “well, get on with it now!” a guy exclaims. eddie ignores him – “i am in love with y/n l/n. i’ve been in love with her since i found out she loves metal, i’ve fallen for her since she knocked a guy out cold with frozen waffles–”

“frozen waffles?” robin questions.

“– i fell for her even harder when she introduced me to madonna –  that’s right, i love madonna! but most importantly, i knew i was a goner when i wanted to become the best version of myself for her. i wanted to become the person she deserves because i am in love with you, y/n, always have.”

you soften and the world disappears around you; it was just you and him. there is an ache in your chest, but not because of heartbreak, it’s because it feels as if it will burst out of your chest out of love. 

“we can’t help who we fall for,” eddie breathes out, walking down the stack. “but honestly, i’m glad it’s you because there’s no one else in this world whom i would love to love if it’s not you.”

you shove the elephant in steve’s hold and walk straight to eddie. 

he sends you a small smile, arms extended. when you’re a step closer, he whispers. “i’m sorry, i just had to-”

“shut up,” you command, pulling him in for a heated kiss, fingers getting lost and tangled in his hair, his arms snake around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, no gap left unfilled.

your lips dance a fast-paced song, it’s all but intense and passionate – a hint of eagerness and the satisfaction of longing. you forget that it wasn’t just the two of you, that there was a crowd watching you both kiss. you can hear the faint coos of the moms by the corner.

“get a room!” a guy barks out. simultaneously, you and eddie flipped him off but the kiss decelerates into soft and sensual, a contrast to the shared feverish one, now easing up to the feeling of content and delicate love.

you pull away a second later, forehead touching his as you don’t dare to open your eyes yet. “i’m in love with you, too, if it’s not obvious yet.”

“well, i should hope so,” eddie laughs. he gives you a quick peck on the lips before fixing you with a teasing grin. “how about that marriage booth now, sweetheart?”

“take me out on a date first, loverboy.” you interlace your hand with his as you walk away from the spotlight.

“how about a kiss on top of the ferris wheel?” he proposes instead.

“sap,” you scrunch your nose up with a smile. “but i’m not opposed to the idea.”

that was strike ??? for you and eddie.

“just to let you all know, i am not going to sit next to steve on the ferris wheel.”

“what do you mean? i’m an amazing ferris wheel companion.”

“would you like to get shoved off the seat once we’re on top?”

“... how about the bumper cars?”

“deal.”

© milkiane 2022. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO MODIFY OR REPOST MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS.

[stargazer-sims]

Far Horizon Park - DOWNLOAD

Today is a happy day, because I finally finished this project that I've been working on since the beginning of February, and now it's ready to share with all of you!

Are your alien visitors looking for a taste of home during their sojourn on Earth? Welcome to Far Horizon Park, the perfect hangout spot for all those fine beings from Sixam and beyond!

This park features exotic plants from the homeworld, a picnic area, glowing* hot spring, fire pit, starship parking, and some out-of-this-world playground equipment for those cute little aliens. There's even a portal, for communicating with people far away or even for a quick trip home.

* hot spring is fully functional but does not actually glow. It is hot pink, though. The hot spring requires Snowy Escape

INFO

This lot uses items from several packs. At a miminum, you should have the Get To Work EP and the Strangerville GP, because it uses a number of debug/live edit objects from both those packs.

This lot also has 32 items of custom content, all made by me. They're all contained in one compressed file in the download folder. The park itself is a separate download in the same folder.

This lot will require the use of bb.moveobjects

NOTE: Some of the trees change colour in the autumn. I didn't know how to fix this, so the park does lose some of its appeal in the autumn, unfortunately. Its best season is summer, but it is usable all year round.

Lot type: Generic

Lot Size: 40x30

Lot Value: $32,476

Lot Traits: Good Soil, Fast Internet, Clothing Optional

HOW TO USE

This download is in two parts. The first part is the tray files for the park, and the second is a large set of custom content items that are required to make the park look the way it does in my previews.

You will need to download both to have the park appear correctly.

Place the Far Horizon Park tray files to your Tray folder

Place files from "Alien Park Items" into your Mods folder

All the CC will appear in the appropriate categories in-game, so you can also use it for your own builds. NOTE: The CC is not all base game compatible. You will need the specific packs that it's from, in order for it to appear in your game.

TOU

do not claim as your own

do not reupload (especially not to pay sites)

you can change the lot type & traits in your own game if you want

feel free to use any of my recoloured items in your own builds, but please credit me and link back to this post.

Far Horizon Park - DOWNLOAD from SFS

@maxismatchccworld @emilyccfinds @sssvitlanz

[strawwritesfic]

Loki Laufeyson x Midgardian!Reader: Firecracker

Summary: Thank Odin he’s only had the one brother and two parents to deal with, that’s all Loki can say.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (Domestic Fluff; Big Family; American!Reader; Fourth of July; Post-Avengers (2012); child antics; not canon compliant)

Challenge: “120 Bits of Random” challenge by SugarLandBabyGirl on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Firecracker

Loki never really felt like he fully grasped the concept of “family.” His one on Asgard seemed intent only on distant judgment; his one on Earth was tentative at best and belligerent at worst–or so he assumed. Whenever the subject of visiting yours got brought up, he tried his best to dissuade you. This plan worked fine, all through Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter. But when the summer after he moved in with you rolled around, you put your foot down.

“We’re going for the Fourth of July,” you announced, before holding your hand up to silence his protests. “No buts.”

It cost him quite a bit of effort, but Loki managed to prevent himself from reminding you that he was a prince and therefore he could voice as many buts as he wanted. He thought it best to go along with your plans for the time being. Maybe it was just morbid curiosity as to how the families of mortals worked. Perhaps they were more supportive than those on Asgard.

“So you’re the alien freak that destroyed half the country and got our little [Name] stuck in Manhattan,” your father said upon meeting him. 

Loki shook your father’s hand, then resigned himself to an unpleasant weekend of loud barbecues. Try as you might to coax him into joining the “fun” over the next forty-eight hours, it never took long for one of your several aunts, uncles, siblings, or cousins to make some remark about him and drive Loki back into terse silence.

It didn’t matter what he did. If he tried dressing more casually, he was trying too hard. If he actually got up to help cook, he ruined the food correctly. If he sat down to play a game, he was obviously going to cheat. By the time the actual holiday itself rolled around, Loki could manage only acidic glowers in your direction while looking forward to finally going home.

As the night fell and the sky darkened, the taunting stopped. He seemed to be ignored rather than derided. Loki didn’t mind. This behavior was an improvement as far as he was concerned. Just to make doubly sure he would be left alone, however, he settled himself at the now-empty picnic table to grumble to himself. 

He had only just got started when a small child ran up to him. She stared at him for a good long while. Loki stared back. This one might have been one of your nieces, he supposed, but she looked the exact same as the other eight Midgardian children running rampant through the backyard. 

He scowled in the hopes that would get her to go away. It did not.

“What do you want?” he asked testily.

The child did not answer. She simply held out one of the items passed out to everyone earlier in the evening. When it became clear that she wanted him to take the object, he did so with a roll of his eyes. “Lovely. A stick. Thank you ever so much.”

“Loki?” His eyes flicked up to see you watching with concern. “What are you doing?”

Talking, he wanted to answer. Was that a problem now, too? 

But too late. The girl had grabbed his hand when he wasn’t looking. The instinct to smack her momentarily threatened to overwhelm him. Had this been Asgard, she might have been a tiny spy capable of injuring him. Given that this was Midgard, however, she probably was just a child, and Loki understood enough of the culture to know that hitting children would not make him any friends. Instead, he got up and followed her at a crouch through the surrounding throng.

“Papi!” the girl shouted–her first words spoken around Loki. 

Your father heard and turned around, beaming. “Sugar bean!” 

As he drew nearer, the girl held out her own stick. 

“Ready to light your sparkler, sweetheart?”

She nodded. Your father flicked on the lighter in his hand and pressed the flame into the tip of her stick. It erupted into silver sparks. The girl let go of Loki’s hand and sprinted, giggling, off toward the rest of her peers. He straightened to watch, only to remember just who she had left with in the tense silence that followed. 

He swallowed, hardly daring to shift his gaze enough to see your father.

“You, too?” your father asked, looking pointedly at Loki’s sparkler. When Loki did not answer, your father crossed his arms across his chest. “Not sure if giving you a weapon is a good idea, even if Mimi did.”

Was Mimi the girl? Loki had no idea, but suddenly the sparkler in his fingers seemed even stupider than before. He was done trying to impress your father, let alone the rest of your family. His mouth opened to tell your father as much. Before he could speak, a warm hand touched his shoulder. Startled, Loki glanced back to see you standing behind him.

“Come on, Dad. Give him a shot.” 

Your father still didn’t look convinced. 

“Dad, do you really think I’m such a bad judge of character that I’d date someone capable of setting our get-together on fire?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone for the bad boy.”

You appeared somewhat cross for the first time since arriving, or at least the first time while Loki had been watching. It was your turn to fold your arms over your chest. 

“Dad, we only came because you told me you missed me and said I could bring Loki. The two of us are kind of item now. If you’re not going to treat him like family, then I’m not going to get to come to family events anymore.”

“But–”

“No buts! I love you, Dad, but I also love Loki. Unless we break up, it’s going to be both of us or none of us from now on.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed in Loki’s direction. Loki, for his part, attempted to wipe his face clean of any emotion. 

After several minutes, it must have appeared to your father that you were utterly serious. He let loose a massive breath, then practically ripped the sparkler out of Loki’s hands to light it. When he gave it back, it was only thanks to Loki’s quick reflexes that the fire didn’t strike his shirt.

“Fine,” said your father. “But only because Mimi likes him.”

With that, your father trundled off. Loki frowned after him, still clutching the sparkler in one hand. He was so focused on feeling dislike that he forgot you were there until he felt your arms wrap around him from behind.

“I’m sorry about that,” you whispered. “And for this weekend. Things’ll get better. I promise.”

He twisted so that you could see him raise a single eyebrow. “And if I don’t want to wait for things to get better?”

“Well…” 

You cocked your head to one side as you snatched one of his hands. Busy as he was waiting for your response, Loki was taken aback when you began to drag him toward the children. The one from before–Mimi, Loki supposed–brightened at his return and came racing up to hug his legs. 

“You’d probably disappoint your biggest fan,” you said.

Mimi shot him an enormous smile, then darted off to rejoin what appeared to be a rousing game of tag. Since Loki’s sparkler had gone out as well, she disappeared quickly into the dark. His chest did feel a little less tight as he wrapped one arm around you and drew you closer to his side. 

“I’m not sure that’s really incentive enough for me,” he said. “But…we’ll see.”

[sofwrites]

Each other's biggest ally

Polin Week Day 1: Favorite Quote

“No, his method of attack was a lazy smile, a well-timed joke. If Colin ever lost his temper...

Penelope shook her head slightly, unable even to fathom it. Colin would never lose his temper. At least not in front of her. He'd have to be really, truly—no, profoundly —upset to lose his temper. And that kind of fury could only be sparked by someone you really, truly, profoundly cared about.” - Romancing Mister Bridgerton, pg. 64

The one where Colin profoundly cared and had no choice but to lose his temper.

Type: One-shot, angst, sentimentalism, protective/mywife!Colin, protectective/myhusband!Penelope

Length: 3.3k

Read on ao3! Or continue under the cut

In the late months of the year 1825, Penelope Featherington Bridgerton published her debut novel titled The Wallflower. And in the early months of the year 1826, she relished in the praise of her work and suffered in the consequences of her now-public identity.

The response to her book was generally positive. Whether or not they were willing to admit it, the members of the ton were eager to uncover the scathing details surrounding Mrs. Bridgerton’s former pen name. They devoured the secrets hidden between the lines of the pages- forming their own conclusions and theories of what was fact and what was fiction.

It seemed that after many years of Penelope appearing to be invisible, the gravity of her voice was finally truly understood.

But as in all life, there were complications as well.

One gentleman in particular was quick to make his discontent known, and it was all due to just one short excerpt.

Although Beatrice did not befriend even half of the ton, she had made the acquaintance of nearly everyone at one point. And though they never realized, she scrutinized them almost as much as they disregarded her.

Even with her close examinations, she generally liked the people she met. There were bores, many in fact, as well as those with whom conversation could rarely be carried, but most were reasonably pleasant. There were exceptions, however, as there always are. One such exception was as follows:

It is an earlier season for Beatrice, one still full of wonder and disillusioned hope. She looks at the dancefloor with wistfulness in her eyes, dreaming, praying that her prince charming will notice her from across the room and ask her to take his arm.

He does not, of course. His mind is still focused fully on the small group that surrounds him, drawn to him like a shining star amongst the thinly veiled candlelight. Although the music is certainly too loud and the conversations too many, our heroine can perfectly hear his laughter through the crowded ballroom. She can hear it because she knows it better than she knows her own.

Later that evening, he’ll ask her to dance. He’ll remember her minuscule presence in his life, likely prodded by a sharp finger to his spine and a voice carrying a gentle reminder. And even though she knows why he will do so, knows that it is due to a kind sense of duty rather than true desire, she will cherish it all the same.

Right now, however, Beatrice remains at the edge of the dancefloor, her silent woes interrupted by the familiar voice of her mother.

“Beatrice, dear, this is Mr. Wetherden. Mr. Wetherden, I present to you my daughter, Beatrice Harpenton.”

Another bachelor, this one ranking second-tier rather than third. Her mother seems to have given her more credit this evening, Beatrice thinks as she looks at the familiar face.

The introduction is an unnecessary formality, of course, as are many of their rules; they were made acquaintances during her first season. Nonetheless, society calls for her to curtsy and give a gracious smile, and she obliges.

At the same time, he assesses her similarly to how he did so a few years before. And she sees it immediately, the dismissal that passes over his eyes even before he fully bends into his low bow.

Her mother leaves them to it- the stifled conversation in an even more stifling ballroom. The unfortunate girl in the canary-colored dress stands on the sidelines, trapped in conversation with yet another uninterested bachelor who is just as much forced upon her as she is on him.

He speaks endlessly, unquestionably more for his benefit than hers. He spends fourteen minutes explaining the difference between rugby and football. She suppresses three yawns and is interrupted twenty-six times throughout the topic, clearly expected to be an audience member rather than a participant.

At this time, she thinks this is Mr. Wetherden’s worst offense. Later on, when she is years older, Beatrice discovers that she was sorely mistaken in her youth. That without the cautionary lights of London (albeit often cloudy and forgiving), he is much worse.

She later on learns about his propensity to unwilling women. To frightened young housemaids who are often not given the options that women of a higher class are granted.

Our heroine also finds out later exactly how commonplace such a tendency is. And with it, her vision of social seasons- the one with balls and picnics and musicales- begins to splinter.

Penelope hadn’t named him, of course. She hadn’t named anyone directly.

She couldn’t publish a memoir, not really. Even though she was related to a fine variation of important characters in society, she couldn’t put such a strain on her family, and particularly not on her husband. Her husband, her lovely, amazing husband who supported her through the entire process even despite the fact that so much of their own private history was laid out in the pages of her novel. Penelope had written the truth, which hadn’t been entirely pretty. But Colin had agreed with her that the truth was more important than sheltering their secrets.

But even though she couldn’t publish a direct recounting of her life and experiences with the ton, she’d been unwilling to just hide behind fabricated stories.

Penelope’s telling of that night at the ball wasn’t completely factual. She did not know how many times Phillip Cavender interrupted her during their conversation, nor whether or not Colin had even been present that evening. But the details of the matter weren’t as important to her as shedding light on the entire situation.

She’d been young and naive during her first few seasons, believing that a few nasty comments and looks were really the worst of what society had to offer. Later on, she’d found out that she had been wrong, and that there was much worse than she’d ever known. And when her sister-in-law, Sophie, had recounted the night she and Benedict had met (well, met again), Penelope knew that she had to shed light on the matter. She had to make it clear what happened outside of the fancy dresses and giggling parties.

But as mentioned, such decisions did not come without their objections.

“Thank God, they’re leaving.”

The words came from just a few feet behind them, full of indignancy and bitterness. The couple had been walking together, arm-in-arm, towards the door, quite eager to return home for the evening.

They’d been attending an intimate house party at the request of the gentleman’s mother. She’d been unable to make her attendance that evening and had asked that her son and his wife go in her stead. They hadn’t been particularly excited about the prospect, but they’d agreed for her.

The party itself hadn’t been bad. The food was good, the music was pleasant, and almost everyone in attendance had offered the woman praise for her work. Though they hadn’t exactly been excited to attend, the evening hadn’t been at all poor.

That was, until they’d been nearing the exit and heard the troublesome remark behind them.

Colin glanced down at his wife, who grimaced, her nose scrunching as her eyes closed. They’d been met with a number of sneers and snide comments in the last few weeks, but they never became easier to hear.

With a small sigh, he turned them both around, looking directly at the man holding a glass of port too large and wearing a lip too curled.

Colin gave him a smile, the familiar one he used whenever he was looking at something that both irritated and mildly amused him. “Didn’t see you there, Cavender. So nice of you to offer us a sendoff.”

The opposing man’s mouth turned downwards, a stark contrast to the grin still on Colin’s face. Penelope swallowed, quickly cutting in. “We really must be getting home.”

With a pointed look directed towards her husband, she began pulling him back towards the door. Though Penelope would have loved to see Phillip Cavender get put into his place, she knew far better than to spar with a man holding a petty vendetta.

But before they’d even fully turned around, there was a mocking bark of laughter, followed by a slight slurring of words. “You do everything she tells you then? Follow her around like a lapdog?”

This time, Colin’s brow lifted ever so slightly, the same half-smile still imprinted on his lips. Penelope felt an uncomfortable heat rising up her neck as she reluctantly turned from the door again.

“If it means getting to share my life with this incredible woman,” Colin sent her a small wink before shrugging, “Then, by all means, call me a lapdog.”

There was some tittering around them by the small audience they’d attracted. With a quick glance, Penelope could see the angry lurch in Cavender’s throat, the narrowing of his eyes, the twitching of his fingers as they tightened around his glass.

Please, just let it go. Let us just leave and go home.

But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

“I know what lies she’s spread about me.”

“Oh?” Colin’s face took on a thoughtful expression, one that might have been convincing in any other circumstance. “I don’t recall ever hearing my wife mentioning you.”

Cavender’s glare deepened. “In that bloody book of hers.”

Penelope cringed inwardly as she felt the twitch of Colin’s hand in hers. Her eyes darted around the room as an overwhelming sense of dread engulfed her. The ballroom was small and the guests were bored, and a public row was certainly enough to draw a crowd- one that was full of prying eyes and listening ears.

Colin’s face remained the picture of serenity even though Penelope could sense the angry heat rising from him. It was something she could feel in him that others always missed, a secret fire that he did so well in masking.

Looking at the other man, Colin let out a sigh, one that was forcibly tired, as though he were speaking down to an overly emotional child. “I can assure you that all the characters in my wife’s novel were fabricated. And if you saw yourself in one of the less attractive personages, then I’d venture to say that such is simply a reflection of your own self-image.”

The whispers around them grew, and Cavender sputtered for a moment, clearly caught off guard by the easy taunt. But his surprise only lasted a moment before he hardened once more.

A man with a petty vendetta did not often allow himself to be diverted.

His eyes flickered to Penelope before they returned to Colin and he sneered. “You realize that she’s made you out to be an ass, don’t you? You can act high and mighty, Bridgerton, but the wife you so proudly boast has fashioned you into the biggest fool in all of London.”

It was at this jab that Penelope frowned, feeling her own prickle of anger. And for the first time in the nasty exchange, she turned directly to their shared foe, a hard, determined look set on her face. “Excuse me, Mr. Cavender, but I must ask that you don’t speak to my husband that way.”

She could almost see his eyes flash in fury as they set themselves on her. But before he could give the biting retort that was no doubt resting on his tongue-

“And I’d suggest that you consult a dictionary to properly understand the concept of fiction.” Colin’s tone was relaxed, just a sprinkle of mocking mixed into it. But Penelope could feel the tension in him, the protective edge that mirrored her own.

Cavender’s gaze shifted back to Colin, his rage appearing a bit more controlled as they listened to the snickering that surrounded them. Slowly, his mouth thinned into a tight line, and he took a step closer to the couple. By instinct, Colin angled himself in front of Penelope as her grip on his hand tightened.

He was just a few feet away from them when he finally spoke, a voice so low that it was barely audible over the murmurs. “And I’d recommend that you consider taking yourself and that bitch of a wife,” his eyes darted to Penelope for a moment, “out of town.”

And it was this comment that wiped the smile completely off of Colin’s face, along with any attempt of levity.

It was as if a chill had passed over, one that was both icy and burning at the same time. He stiffened like a board, a wave of unmistakable anger coming over him. And when his words came, they were low and even, colder than anyone had ever thought possible from Colin Bridgerton.

“You would do well to avoid threatening my family, Cavender.”

Though there was a slight tinge of red on his face, Phillip Cavender did not retreat. Instead, he took another step forward. “And why is that, Bridgerton?”

Penelope could see the muscles in Colin’s jaw moving from where she was angled, could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. She’d seen him angry before, furious even, but this was different. This was so much more.

She wasn’t frightened, not by Colin nor by the man standing across from them. Fright was not why she wanted this to stop.

She didn’t want her husband’s anger to be made into a form of entertainment at a party. For him to have to serve the role of gallant protector whenever she upset someone. So, she attempted to silently will him to calm down, running a featherlight thumb across the surface of his hand.

But Colin wanted to finish what they’d started and instead let go of her and took his own step forward, almost shielding her completely.

“I think we all know that I have more than enough relatives to run you out of town,” he said, eyes locked on Cavender.

There was a flash of worry that crossed his face, but it was quickly forced away by a snort. “Is that meant to scare me? The threat of a duke and a viscount?”

Colin didn’t falter. Instead, his head tilted as he considered the man, considered the shaking fingers and the smell of alcohol on his breath. He’d never been a violent man by nature, even having grown up with two older brothers. He preferred words when he fought, and they almost always gave him his victories. He wasn’t opposed to physical repercussions, but he knew that a private gathering was not the place or time.

He looked Cavender directly in the eyes, speaking in a low, clear voice. “I will ensure that you are ruined, that is a promise.”

And because he couldn’t help himself, “And if that is not enough, be rest assured that we will do worse. My only qualm in doing it myself is that my brother would be disappointed he wasn’t able to help.”

There was a silence in the room that followed as Cavender glowered at him. His eyes darkened in fury as his face reddened, trying to figure out how far Colin could really go.

But there was something in Colin’s threat that didn’t allow for any consideration that he might have been exaggerating. Perhaps it was the definitive and resolute tone in his voice, or the strength behind his gaze, or the tight set of his jaw.

Or perhaps it was because Colin Bridgerton wasn’t the type to quicken to anger. Wasn’t the type to have a temper or even hint at unpleasantry.

Whatever it was, it made Cavender finally break eye contact and step back. He turned away, taking another large swig of port.

Colin could hear the pounding in his ears as he looked at the pathetic man, anger still coursing through him. But then he felt a warm hand lace through his, and the red glare of the world began melting away. Penelope was whispering something, her voice calm and soothing. He squeezed her hand in understanding but kept his gaze on Cavender.

There was a familiar casualness when Colin spoke this time, but it was threaded with venom. “Do not forget what I’ve said.”

And with that, he turned to his wife and pressed a kiss into her hair.

“Good night,” Penelope nodded to the remainder of the crowd, who finally had the decency to look away.

A few minutes later, when they were finally in a carriage returning to their home, Penelope sighed. With her eyes glued to her skirts, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Colin.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, taking in a deep inhale of breath.

He’d been scared after the reveal of her identity, terrified even. There were evenings where he’d lie awake in bed and imagine all of the awful things that could happen to the person who was his entire world. And though they never spoke of such worries aloud, he knew that she was just as aware as he was.

Italy had been like taking a deep breath after being underwater for too long. There, no one cared or knew, and the only threat they faced was the harsh sun.

And then Penelope was pregnant, and a new light was added to his life, one that shifted his fears elsewhere.

Then they became a family of three, and Colin was thrilled. He still worried, of course, but his joy outweighed everything else.

Old wounds had been reopened in the recent weeks, that was for certain. But it did not mean that he blamed Penelope for them.

So, Colin pulled her into his side and tucked her head under his chin. “You have nothing to apologize for. We both agreed that you did the right thing.”

For a few moments, she said nothing, just listened to the sound of his heartbeat and the wheels on cobblestones. And though he couldn’t see her, Colin could sense in the silence that she was crying. Wordlessly, he handed her a handkerchief.

Penelope dabbed at her eyes a few times before leaning back to look at him. “I didn’t want to force you into this position.”

He smiled and lifted a hand to stroke her cheek, feeling the familiar warmth of her skin. “I watch you every day with nothing but awe, Penelope. I love you, I’m proud of you. And I will gladly stand by you through anything.”

Her eyes moved slowly as they crossed his face, searching for any hesitance. There was none, not even a hint of resistance.

Instead, there was so much love that it overwhelmed her, struck her with the same shock that it had years before. It was a love that mirrored her own, a fierce desire to protect and support another with as much reverence as one did for themself. It was one that never faltered even in the most difficult of times.

Her eyes were glossy when her hand reached up to meet his, and the smile on her lips was weak but true. “I love you so much. And I can’t believe that I’ve become so lucky in my life to have you by my side.”

And with that, they settled into their drive home, sharing whispered conversations and watery chuckles.

They still had a long road ahead of them, of that they were sure. But they knew that they would cross it together.

[pars-ley]

Your eyes tell

Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Female Reader

Summary: When your best friend’s a prince and inherits the throne, he needs to find a wife to rule alongside him as Queen, you’re more than happy to help him choose an eligible bachelorette. But what happens when you, who only wants to marry for love, are forced to be one of the participants?  

Rating: (SFW) 13+

Genre: Royal au / Arranged marriage au / Angst / Fluff / Unrequited love

Word Count: 6400

Warnings: Serious angst. It will make you sick.

Prompts: Everything makes sense when you’re by my side. + I didn’t believe in love, not until I met you.

A/N: This is for the Golden Closet Network’s ‘Jungkook Birthday Project’ I stepped out of my comfort zone for this one, so hopefully it paid off. It’s from their two different perspectives. Italic font is Jungkook, normal font is reader. A big shout and a hell of a lot of thanks to @wheresmymoniat​ for helping me endlessly, especially through some serious writers block with the ending. She’s a darling.

Banner: @yeojaa​ honestly, she’s a goddess who went above and beyond to help me with this when I was struggling and offered out of the kindness of her heart, she also made the break lines for me cause she’s the BEST💕😘! 

Beta reader: @papillonsgf​ 😘

Meet Prince Jungkook...

As you hear the announcement escape his mouth, like a 'breaking news' headline silently screaming at you from behind bold, black print, all you can do is stare. The calmness in his voice, unmatched to his words echoing around in your mind, bouncing off the emptiness that has overcome you.

Your eyes sweep over him, the dark circles hanging heavy under his eyes, the exhaustion etched in his handsome face and the anxiety that rolls off him in waves.

A pain in your chest pulls at your emotions, a direct line to your heart just for him. Your body flung itself at him before you had time to register the action.

His arms curl around your waist, squeezing you, keeping you locked in place. His fingers digging into your back, making your anxiety for him creep up into your throat. You try to swallow it down, wanting to be strong for him but your mouth is suddenly without moisture

Your best friend is going to be King of Kalinia, that much you knew and that’s what is expected of a Prince but not now, not yet. 

All you can do is stand there, unmoving while he relays the details of his father's illness and his decision to step down from the throne. Meaning, all of it falling onto Jungkook’s shoulders. 

How could he bear all that weight on his own? Any normal man would crumble.

However, he is not any normal man, he is strong, determined, loyal, generous and one of the kindest men you know. But seeing him now, a shadow of all you know he is, you want to take it all away and harbour the load yourself, just to give him his freedom a little bit longer. 

The studying and travelling he’s been doing, all that now comes to an immediate halt, just as he had started to live his own life, it all comes crashing down around him. 

It’s your job to pick up the pieces and you’re more than happy to assume that role but it also means that your plans for travelling would have to be put on hold too. 

Your arrangement had been to meet Jungkook in Italy and travel around Europe together over the course of 2 months before returning to continue studies, but the idea of visiting these places alone, without him by your side, now seems a lot less appealing.

His slightly painful grip on your back, fingernails desperately digging in to provide some kind of anchorage for him, pulls you back into the present.

"Hey," you lean away so you can cradle his face in your hands. "It's just me right now, you can be honest. You don't have to pretend with me."

His wide eyes seem to tremble as they meet yours. "I just wasn't expecting this so soon." His voice interrupts the silence, slicing through it like a knife straight into your gut at his words. “I don't feel...ready for this. I thought I’d have more time to prepare and now, I have to find a wife. A WIFE!” 

The sorrow and anguish that fill his eyes overwhelm you with a heaviness in your chest, your pumping organ sinking like a rock to the pit of your stomach. But your mind is frozen, stuck on those last words you hear them rattling, echoing around in your mind, crashing against any thoughts you had like giant waves against rock. Wife? WIFE!

The ascending King cannot rule without a Queen by his side. That is the law of your country and the way it’s always been. You knew this, so why do you feel this way? How exactly do you feel? Sick. Panicked. Sombre. All of the above maybe? You just feel for the hardships that your friend is facing, that’s all it is, you tell yourself.

“I know, I know this has come as a shock but let me tell you, you’re meant to be King and you’re ready, even if you don’t feel like it. I have complete faith in you, Kook and I’ll be here every step of the way. I’ll even help you choose the right...wife.” You hesitate slightly, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.

He pulls you to him again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Well, after he’s married and King, he’ll have to do without you. There'll be someone new to take care of him and do all the things you do together; to comfort him like this, to spend evenings star gazing and staring at the moon, to pick flowers in the Queen’s garden and have secret picnics in the meadows off grounds.

All of these moments with him won’t exist anymore. 

You feel empty at the thought. Almost as if someone reached inside and stole the most vital parts of you and put them on display behind an inaccessible, glass cage to watch beating and working without you.

As you cling to him, fingers gripped in his hair, cheek resting atop of his head, cradling him like your most precious possession, a tear escapes.

Your friend is slipping through your fingers, down into the depths of a world you won’t be able to follow and there's nothing you can do to stop it. You will lose him, that much you are sure of.

You glance over, her expression a smooth and flawless mask, never giving anything away. But you know her well enough to know that something has changed. She has not been the same since you revealed the news of your new-to-be title three weeks ago. 

Her usual brilliant, almost blinding light had dimmed into a burnt out candle, flickering on the last threads of its wick. No matter what you say to her she just smiles and says ‘I’m fine’. You might be clueless but you are determined to discover what’s changed.

As you sit here, discussing who, out of the fourteen eligible bachelorettes in the Kingdom, is most suited for being your future wife and Queen, you can’t help but find yourself thinking of only one. 

The one you wish you could have, the one you’d give anything to spend the rest of your days with but is the one who would never see you in such a way. 

As she sits across from you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her delicate fingers tracing down her neck. God, how you longed for it to be you caressing her so tenderly, to be able to hold her and tell her what she means to you, to have her by your side instead of these paper faces staring up at you waiting for paper rings. All of them from good families, smart, pretty, the perfect persona for the outside world to see but completely and utterly tedious to you. There wasn’t a single thing written in this bleak print that held your interest even a fraction of the way y/n could. 

“Your majesty?” An indistinct voice snaps you out of your trance.

Her eyes flash up to meet yours and you look away quickly, hoping no one has noticed your forlorn stare at the true object of your affection.

“Yes?” You reply, trying to seem present in the room discussing your future as if you weren’t even here.

“Who are you choosing, your majesty?” An advisor asks nervously.

Her. Always her. A thousand times over. In this life and the next and any other after that may follow. 

“We need a final three, so we can move on to the next round of tests.”

Round? Tests? This was your life and here it is being discussed as if it were a gameshow. 

Your stomach twists, fear rises in your throat making it feel tight. You take a gulp of water, allowing the coolness to sooth you, and look at the sheets placed in front of you. The faces blurring along with the writing. 

“Y/n, what are your opinions?” You ask, genuinely curious who she��d pick for you. 

She’d choose someone who was strong enough to rule but also sensitive enough to be a decent match for you and that was all you could hope for at this point, a decent match. The three words everyone aspires to describe their life partner.

You wait with baited breath for her response, somewhere deep down in the pits of your heart where hope was long ago locked away and buried beneath years of friendly rubble, it makes an alarming surprise visit, breaking through the debris with ease. You cling to the book of secrets that’s been held captive there in a vault created from torment and in the dark corners you’re on your knees, praying to a god you don’t think will listen. Praying you hear her utter all the impossible things you know she never will. The desperation inside you, clawing to escape out of the refined, solid cage you built, you’re clenched fists under the table fighting to keep it down along with your breakfast.

Everything stills and slowly starts to wither away back to its original place, the place where it belongs, when she nonchalantly reads off three names...none of them hers.

"You've been ordered to participate y/n." The royal adviser informs you, his words ringing like high-pitched sirens in your ears. 

"I'm sorry, ordered by whom?" You frown, not understanding, the very idea of what he’s suggesting baffling your mind.

He sighs awkwardly, it’s obvious he did not want to be the one standing in front of you with your hot molten glare on him.

"Who gave the order?” You persist, when his silence is the only response you receive.  

He looks down, away from your blazing eyes. “Her majesty, the Queen.”

You freeze, the ground feeling as if it would break away under your feet. What!? Why would she force you to participate in this? She knows you do not want to be Jungkook’s wife and that he would not want you to be his? 

This makes no sense. You’ve always had such a lovely relationship with his parents. When you befriended Jungkook, they welcomed you in with open arms and loving smiles, encouraged your friendship and supported you with every decision along the way, so why do this? 

“I need to speak with her majesty.” You say through gritted teeth, not only from anger but your attempt at trying to keep down the bile you can feel burning your throat like lava.

He gives you a sharp nod and leads you to her quarters, not that you needed to be shown, you know this castle like the back of your hand, everything in it was both familiar and safe. 

As he announces you, you swallow, desperate to wet your dry throat pinching the air that passes with every breath. You hold back your cough in favour of clearing your throat, hoping to relieve the desert patch you feel, gravel grazing your insides down into the pit of your stomach.

When you enter she greets you with a broad, bright smile, a smile that contrasts so drastically to how you feel and, for once, you can’t bear to return it.

Her face drops slightly, but you see a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that makes your blood boil hot and irate in your veins. “Oh y/n, don’t pout, it doesn’t suit you.” She pats the seat next to her on her plush ornate sofa where she resides and places her book on the table in front.

You close the distance between you and sit rather woodenly at her side.

“The rules are the rules y/n, it’s nothing personal but I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I treated you differently. You know that.” Her eyes are so honest, a window right into her soul, lighting up and giving you a glimpse as to what it’s like to play her role. 

“But I can’t be his wife!” You exclaim. “He would never want me that way.” You urge, shaking your head at the sheer hilarity of the idea.

You’re met with a poker straight stare, unmoving, her skin still smooth after all these years, unreadable and hard as stone. Picture perfect, a royal portrait ready to be framed with gold. “If that’s the case, what are you worried about?”

You open your mouth to respond but the words are squeezed around your panic induced, contracting throat. Your words seem far away, as you grapple desperately for them.

She places a gentle hand on your knee, the touch calming you instantly. "Y/n listen to me, I know this whole situation has come as a shock to you and to Jungkook, believe me it's still processing for the King and I, but this is our life, however unfortunate, we have a duty. Now, you are not bound to this life by any means, but participating in this is your duty." 

She watches you for a moment, her intense gaze making you shift in your seat, as if she was seeing straight into you, everything you held laid bare for her own personal exhibit. "I know it’s hard, the idea that someone will take your place at his side, but he needs a wife and we know you don't want it to be you." Her piercing eyes driving a quick, sharp needle into yours, you look away unable to hold her intruding stare.

"Of course not." You retort with a snort.

She sits back on her sofa, her posture softening, relaxing against the cushioned back. She smiles staring at her hands placed in her lap, as if amused by an inside joke you're not privy to.

"You need to start listening to your heart more than your head, y/n, it will save you a lot of heartbreak in the future." 

Perplexed by this unexpected turn in conversation you find yourself frowning. "What do you mean?" 

Kindness stretching her mouth into a friendly curve. "My child, it seems I know you better than you know yourself. Your eyes tell."

"Tell what?" You shake your head trying to clear the mud in your mind, making her words impossible to understand.

"Everything." She sighs and stands. "I'm afraid I cannot get you out of this but as you said, you know he won't choose you, so there's no need to panic, is there?" 

She saunters gracefully out of the room leaving you with only your bewildered thoughts.

There's a double meaning in her last words but you struggle to determine what it could be.

And how would she know you better than you do? There's a hint of anxiety at what she saw in your eyes, at what you'd apparently given away to her. Your thoughts race, unable to connect her words to your reasoning and you leave the room feeling more frustrated and perplexed than when you entered.

You lean over the pages of the final women you have to choose from, head down eyes unwavering from the same spot you’ve been looking at for what feels like a lifetime. You’ve gone from three possible wives to four, the latter you’re sure if you take your eyes off the page it will disappear before you. 

Can this be real? Did she agree to this? Did she nominate herself to take part? Hope blossoms dangerously in your chest, flowering around your heart, encasing it in a prison of promise. A prison you’re creating, you know it but cannot stop. Your thoughts run away with you, visions of your dreams becoming reality within your grasp. 

You and her sneaking off grounds for picnics and play dates in the sun, trekking through the forest and taking the row boat out around the river bend, travelling to Paris and visiting the Notre Dame; somewhere she’s always wanted to go, the two of you snapping your own love lock on a branch of a tree with your initials entwined together and throwing away the keys in a nearby river. All the hopeless romantic things you’ve wanted to do, becoming a possibility, the excitement causing butterflies to fly rampantly in your stomach.

You push your chair out, finding your feet and rushing out of the room to find her. 

As you parade down the golden ornate halls, feeling as though you’re being carried by eagles wings, floating across the grounds being pulled in her direction. Her face; the only thing guiding your vision, maybe cupid’s arrow finally aimed in the direction you were hoping for, maybe god finally heard you. 

You find her by the fountains, her favourite place here, sitting staring at the water as if it holds the answers to all life’s problems. She hears your approach, her eyes snapping up to yours before quickly looking away to hide the tears you’ve already seen and brushing her face with her sleeve. 

You step down off the wings, coming crashing back down to earth, the butterflies turning to acid in your stomach and tasting it in your mouth as you rush to her side. Pulling her against you, wrapping her up in a cocoon of comfort and love. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Tell me.” You urge, panic tightening your gut, squeezing your insides in a vice. 

“I’m sure you’ve seen. I’ve been forced to participate in your bride-to-be pageant.” She spits bitter words aimed at you, hope clams up and collapses inside you. 

You realise how foolish you’d been to let yourself believe that she could want this like you crave, that she could see you anything like how you admire her, that she could feel for you the way you worship her. Your heart feels heavy, sinking in your chest and resting in the loveless hole gaping open, revealing your insides. The dullness overtakes you, seizing your limbs one by one, you’re unable to listen to the words she angrily ranting. A cloud of darkness swallowing you whole and you gladly take it by the hand, allowing it to draw you in. Maybe you’d forget if you stayed in there, in the dark. Maybe you’d forget about her if you just gave yourself the chance. 

She doesn’t want this, she doesn’t want you, that much is clear. So how can you choose her? Even if that is what you truly and honestly desire more than anything. You could not put her through that. She deserves to feel the way you do about someone, even if that person can’t be you, she deserves it, she deserves love. It was time to release her, to let her go. 

The thought had tears prick in your eyes, you quickly blink them away. 

“You don’t have to worry Y/n, it’s just a formal procedure. I won’t choose you, you’re off the hook.” The words leave you quickly, before you change your mind and sound like they belong to someone else. You would never say them, would you?

She pauses and looks up at you, her tear stained cheeks; you itched to reach out and wipe the shiny, salty trails away but you clench your hand into a fist to stop yourself. “You won’t?” She asks in disbelief.

“Of course not.” You try to give her a reassuring smile but it feels false, painted on like the many royal portraits you grew up staring at.

She stares back out at the fountain, back stiff against you. Your arms fall loosely away from her. “Oh, well, that’s a relief.” She sighs and yet, her reaction perplexes you. You thought she’d seem happier, instead she just seems blank. 

“Hey, chin up.” You nudge her jaw with your fist, a friendly gesture you had done many times. When she arches away from it, the action makes your insides twist, unable to understand. 

What have you done wrong? You couldn't win, nothing seemed like the right decision anymore.

Why did she seem to be slipping further and further away from you? Even though she sat right next to you, your arms lightly touching at the proximity, she had never felt further away from you. Just out of reach of your grasp.

He had spoken the words you hoped for and yet, you couldn't describe this overwhelming feeling that had draped over you almost instantly, like a blanket of despair. It has enveloped you more and more over the passing weeks.

As you watch him and her, his chosen bride, from your perch of loneliness you felt annoyance grow inside you. You're his friend, his best friend, you should be happy if he's happy. 

You watch him smile at her, occasionally he might take her hand in his or tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Things he used to do with you, but it seems different with her, more intimate. And yet it’s funny how you know neither of them have romantic feelings for one another, it's all a façade, it’s all forced. 

Why would anyone want to live like that? A loveless marriage. You couldn't wrap your head around the concept.

Was she so desperate to become queen? It's not like she has much of a choice though, those of you within certain households, certain names and certain social standing had a duty. It has been drummed into you since you can remember. That had only acted to make you more determined not to live like that.

You were free, he'd told you himself and yet you couldn't help but sit here; consumed by hopelessness.

Not for yourself surely, but for him. He now had to live the life you dread.

Maybe you should have said you'd marry him, put your selfishness aside and given him a friend in marriage instead of a stranger but it was too late now. Any hope of saving him was out of your reach, all you could do was watch as he made the biggest mistake of his life.

He should be with someone who knows when he's upset just by the look in his wide eyes, who knows each crease in his face when it crinkles when he smiles, who knows each line of his secret tattoos he always keeps hidden. He needs someone he can be himself with, someone who would do anything to see him happy, someone who would do everything to protect him and keep him safe. Someone he can have adventures with as well as make tough decisions with, someone who will bear him beautiful children and raise them to be just as loving and kind as him. He deserves all that and more. 

Miss what's-her-name will never be able to give him that. She'll never be good enough. She'll never know what he wants or needs, not like you would.

You know him better than anyone. You could make him happy. So why wouldn't he pick you?

If he's not choosing for love why wouldn't you be first choice, surely that's obvious. Then again, why should you want him to choose you? 

You were free to marry whoever you wanted. So, why now did the thought of Jungkook marrying her weigh you down with a rock in your gut, consuming you, making it impossible for you to move without thinking of anything other than her being with him. Touching him. Possibly loving him. Being his wife and her stomach being full with his children. 

Why did it burn you so much you could hardly breath? Clawing for air with ragged breaths, you had to uproot your feet from their planted spot and go. Go anywhere the sickening sight of them wasn't, the last image of them walking through the palace gardens hand in hand was enough to overflow the salty dam in your eyes, crumbling with your resolve to hold it in. Your realisation, as you turn away from him, hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

The blanket of night that had been covering you - concealing you from the light, from the truth, had finally been lifted. 

How could you not have seen it? 

How could you not have known?

The way he could make you smile through anything, or the way your stomach fluttered sometimes in his presence, or the way he knew you better than anyone and always seemed to know what you were thinking. 

He was your glowing, peaceful moon lighting up the dark sky.  The colourful morning sunrise, warming the chill of the night. The roots of your tree, keeping you grounded and yet the bright blossoms in the field bringing you comfort. 

After all these years...you finally understood.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind Charlotte’s ear, the action almost mechanical, something you should do as opposed to something you want to. 

With y/n it was an excuse to feel her skin against your fingers, a chance to give her a caring caress and a subtle way to show her how you care. It fell on deaf ears or blind eyes, rather. All your efforts to show her your feelings, to attempt to get her to notice your heart, wide open and ready for the taking, went unnoticed. Maybe you should have uttered the words into her ear one day, laying in the meadow, basking under the sun.

But you didn’t. 

You’ve made your decision. It’s Charlotte. She is to be your wife and your queen. 

Perhaps, one day, you might feel something more deeply than the awkward discomfort making your toes curl. After all, tomorrow you will be standing in the palace with an audience and a live broadcast as you announce your bride and their queen to be. 

It's your duty, there's no escaping it, you know this. And yet, your chest is weighed down, tight with an anchor pulling you underwater as you fight and kick against the waves of emotions crashing against you. Clawing your way to the surface and fighting for breath as hopelessness fills your lungs. The box your heart was kept in for her, now feels like an empty cage. Hollow. She left, not physically but in spirit, and took your beating organ with her, the life slowly draining in her absence.

But here you are still standing, unable to give up and let go. 

You had to. You needed to move on and away from her, perhaps one day you'll be able to stop picturing her face, hearing her laugh or the smell of her skin.

Your agonising thoughts running rampant in your mind made you want to scream up at the sky. At a god you were rapidly losing faith in.

You needed to be alone and get yourself together. 

You made your excuses, apologising to your fiancé - an invisible noose around your neck pulling tight from the very thought of who she was to you and who she would be for the rest of your life - and left, albeit rather abruptly. 

Rushing to the stables and guiding your horse out of palace grounds, racing away from decision making and royal duty.

The wind against your face, cool air relentless as you speed across fields but cooling your burning skin, ablaze with frustration. The sound of hooves thundering against the ground seem to echo out around you in otherworldly quiet, giving away your position to everyone. 

They'll search for you soon, you know this but you just need to breathe. You need to feel your lungs expanding and shrinking on their own, moving how they should, without barbed wire squeezing around them, digging in with every draw in of air and stopping you short. 

You needed a last moment of freedom, before the tight noose of your responsibilities squeezed around your neck and choked you.

Your breathing came hard and harsh as you pushed your horse as fast as he could go, until the meadow came into view, your meadow and hers. You'd ended up here, again. This special place, holding so many memories.

You climb off your horse and sink down into the grass, each blade a page of remembrance tying the two of you together. A bond you thought indestructible and yet, here you are desperately clinging onto her in fistfuls of grass.

You understood, your life is on the cusp of changing forever, no going back, it's a life she cannot be a part of in the same way. Of course she'd want to move away from it all, if you could…it's irrelevant because you can't.

Duty to country before anything and everything else. Being a good ruler should be your main concern right now. And yet, you are plagued with the thought…'what if i had told her?' 

What if.

Would it have made any difference? Probably not.

Would your friendship have been ruined? Probably.

But at least, if you had been brave enough to utter the words, even once, then you wouldn't feel as incomplete as you do right now. On your knees, gripping onto the turf as if to hold you in place, head against the ground and eyes squeezed shut.

If there's one last thing you should say, even to unburden yourself after all these years and remove the heavy shawl of emotion that’s been draped across your shoulders, weighing you down, it should be your truth. Finally.

Not for any expectation of reciprocation but to know that you did everything you could. No regrets when you look back at the choice you've had to make.

Just the truth.

The horse was already moving as you had one foot in the rung of the saddle and the other straddling across it. 

"Jungkook's missing." The words from the royal advisor replay anxiously in your head, making your heart pound violently against your ribs, playing its own panicked score.

He left the palace hours ago on his horse and hasn't been seen since. The way your gut twists at the direction your thoughts take has your fists clenched painfully around the reigns.

You bolt out of the palace gates, hoping you know exactly where he'll be. 

Trees whip past you at alarming speed but you dare not slow down. You need him to be ok. You need him to hear what you have to say. You need him.

Scanning the distance frantically, looking for the break in the trees, revealing the meadow, your heart almost stops when your eyes finally land upon it. 

You spot his horse first, then see his hunched figure leaning over in the grass and fear takes your heart and locks it in a vice grip so painful tears fill your wild eyes.

You're already climbing off before the hooves have stilled.

"Jungkook!" You hear his name in a strangled scream and realise it's you the distraught voice has escaped from.

As you sprint in his direction, he sits straight up, surprised eyes shooting up to you and relief washes over you like rough waves crashing against the shore.

Your body collides heavily with his, a thump sounding out all around you into the usually calming silence. The air leaves his lungs in a hiss as he's flung backwards to the ground. 

You squeeze your arms around him, holding him so close and so tight, frightened he'll be carried off into the wind like the seeds from the dandelion puff balls surrounding you.

His arms hesitantly wrap around your waist as if worried you'll break. 

You pull yourself back to look at his beautiful face, to make sure he's ok and in one piece but the shock that widens his doe-like eyes momentarily distracts you.

"Y/n, what's wrong!?" He fusses, wiping softly at your tear trails with gentle thumbs. Cradling your face in his hands, worry lines wrinkling his forehead as if he has reason to worry about you.

Hot tears fall fervently from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You smile at him, tracing his smooth cheekbones and sharp jawline with your fingers. 

Seeing him and looking into his eyes in this moment, it's undeniable your heart belongs to him.

How you never realised is truly mind blowing, it's so obvious now, all your confusing thoughts and feelings towards this entire situation suddenly made clear. 

Overwhelmed to the point your chest is so full of him it feels ready to burst, sprinkling your special place with heart-shaped confetti etched with his name. 

"I have to tell you something, before it's too late." You say taking a deep breath and straightening your back with determination, as you sit almost on his lap.

His worrying eyes search yours, frantically going from one to the other, trying to read you, trying to find answers to unasked questions.

"Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to understand...all of the memories we've made, and the places we've spent time together, they're very special to me, I hope you know that? I hold them very dear. And I was afraid of you having this other person to share them with and that i would be pushed out —"

"Y/n, I would never do that." He insisted, cupping your face in his hand. He means it too, it's written all over his face, your own personal scripture of truth.

"I know." You say softly, smiling and interrupting him before you lose your nerve to continue. "My point is, I thought it was the idea of being replaced by her that was bothering me so much but I realised something…I've been an absolute idiot." You laugh to yourself, feeling freer than ever. 

He stares back at you with bewildered amusement.

"It's never been where we were or what we did that made everything so special...it was you. You are the centre of it all. You're the person who knows me better than anyone. You're the one who makes me endlessly and purely happy. You make me feel safe and protected. You are...home. Everything makes sense when you’re by my side. Wherever you are, I want to be. Whether that be as your wife, your queen or just your friend...if your decision is still to be with Charlotte, I will support you throughout —"

"Wait, I'm confused. At the fountain the other day,  you were distraught at the idea of marrying me, you were relieved when I told you I wouldn't choose you?"

You look down at your hands that are now in your lap, ashamed you didn't realise then in that moment what is so clear to you now. 

"I didn't understand then. But I wasn't relieved, my heart felt like it was caving in on itself. I didn't want to be in the running because I never thought you'd choose me. I told myself I didn't want you to, I didn't want to be a part of it, when the actual truth of it is I wanted to be your only choice, not the best out of a bad bunch but I couldn't face the idea that you might not choose me."

You feel your cheeks tinge crimson from your words, feeling sheepish for your naivety. 

You peek up at him shyly through your lashes. He's frozen and wide eyed, staring at you curiously.

"So what exactly are you saying y/n? So I can understand this correctly." His quiet, breathy voice makes your heart pound faster and harder than ever. Each thrum vibrating through you with the sound of his name to accompany its beat.

You gulp loudly, digging deep for your last ounce of courage, to utter the words. To say them out loud makes it real, equally as the possibility of affirmation or rejection. You take another breath, your eyes meeting his, those pools of ebony you could so easily get lost in. "I'm in love with you."

The silence that follows is almost deafening as you prepare yourself for a sweet, gentle refusal. But you're perplexed when you see his perfect lips upturn and stretch, beaming at you like a ray of sunshine. He moves forward to you quickly, you lean in anticipating his next words. But when his lips crush against yours instead, it doesn’t register for a moment or two, you stiffen before your body's primal response takes over and your hands find their way up into his hair, skating your fingers through his silky locks.

The feel of his soft mouth on yours was undeniably alluring, pulling you in deeper with each movement of his lips. Your heart pounds frantic in your chest as the feel of his hands around your waist, holding you flush against him, your bodies moulded tight almost as one was enough to enthral you entirely. When he abruptly pulls back, you feel cold and needy. Your heart, now an open wound, seared by his kiss, bleeding love uncontrollably. 

He holds your face in his hands, foreheads touching and breathing heavy. “How I have longed to hear you say those words.” He whispers.

Your eyes bulge at his admission but as you open your mouth to speak, he lifts a finger against your lips to silence you. 

“I didn’t believe in love, not until I met you. I could only ever imagine a life and a marriage destined to be only friendly and passionless. But I have loved you since that first summer we met and I have wished everyday since for you to feel even a fraction of the way I do for you.” 

He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering gently on the skin of your neck. “Tell me again.” He pleads.

“I love you.” You lean forward and kiss him again. “I love you.” You utter the words between quick, desperate kisses causing him to groan against your mouth. His arm snakes around your waist and the ground leaves you, air breezing through your hair. You’re on your feet before you know it and your gaze is drawn downwards to him, in front of you, on one knee. 

He tightly grips your hand in both of his. “I have waited long enough for you. I saw a glimpse of a world without you by my side and it was monochrome and cold. I don’t want that. I want to see the colours when you look at me and smile so sweetly. I need to hear your laugh, my personal symphony. And if you would take my hand and walk the path into tomorrow and forever with me as my wife and my Queen, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make yours as colourful and joyous as mine will be. Marry me, please?”

You feel hot tears sting your eyes as happiness blooms deep in your chest. A bright orange tiger flower blossoming for him, a beacon of light and joy calling to you, showing you your rightful and chosen path. All these wasted years shall be no more and new ones accompanied by new memories await.

“Yes!”

[riversofmars]

If you ever get around to it I'd love to see 13 and River having a spectacular date inside one or more of the many rooms in the TARDIS, which is apparently infinite.

Hellooo! Thank you for the prompt! I was really torn on what to do for a date until I got this other prompt and thought they would work brilliantly together! Hope you liked this! <3

Rating: General

Word Count: 2000

Read on AO3 or below

Just For Being You

“A date? Really?“ River looked up from the book she was reading and raised her eyebrows, surprised at her wife’s suggestion. She found it very hard to believe the Doctor would want to go on a date. Usually she had to drag her kicking and screaming to any kind of couples activity so she couldn’t hide her scepticism.

“You always say we don’t - how do you put it - spend enough quality time together?“ The Doctor mimicked her wife’s voice and gestured speech marks into the air. River huffed and shook her head at her in amusement as she returned her attention to her novel. The Doctor promptly pushed the book down to demand her undivided attention.

“So you’re serious.“ River asked bewildered, noticing her wife’s put out expression.

“Yeah.“ The Doctor threw her hands up, then placed them on her hips with a huff. Of course she was being serious! “Come on then, we haven’t got all day.“

“Oh right, you mean right now?“ River looked around confused, she’d only just settled down with a cup of tea and a book. By the expression on her wife’s face, however, she realised this was a rare opportunity that she couldn’t pass up. “Well, where are we going? What do I wear?“ River broke into a smile. If the Doctor had come up with a date, that was a special occasion indeed and cause for excitement.

“Just come along.“ The Doctor grabbed her wife’s hand and pulled her up.

“No time to get changed? We’re in a time machine, Sweetie.“ River protested but only half-heartedly as a wide grin spread across her features. She allowed herself to be swept up in her wife’s enthusiasm as she dragged her along to the door.

“No need, you look great in anything.“ The Doctor winked and River rolled her eyes at her playfully.

“It better not be a black tie occasion then.“ River countered, hoping to find out more about what her wife was planning as she followed her along. “You know, this is not actually the way to the console room…“ River realised as she looked around and noticed that the Doctor was leading her further and further into the seemingly never-ending corridors of the TARDIS.

“Don’t be so impatient!“ The Doctor chuckled and River sighed:

“Well, excuse me for thinking that when you said date you meant going somewhere for a nice evening, not getting lost inside the TARDIS somewhere…“ She found it hard to hide her disappointment.

“Oh, don’t sound so disappointed and come along. You don’t know every room yet.“ The Doctor chuckled.

“Very nearly.“ River rolled her eyes but she didn’t get a chance to protest further as they seemed to have reached their destination.

“Here we are.“ The Doctor opened a door and gestured for River to step inside.

“Well… that’s a little underwhelming… it’s an empty room.“ River looked around and gave a shrug as she walked inside. The room itself was dark. It was impossible to make out the walls.

“Is it?“ The Doctor asked as she stepped closer to her wife and River looked around. “Empty, I mean.“ She handed her a gorgeous bouquet of flowers that seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

“Hmm, nice trick.“ River admitted as she couldn’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. She examined the flowers curiously, trying to figure out the trick behind their sudden appearance. They were real and smelled beautifully.

“Ask for something. No, think about it. Think of something you want right now.“ The Doctor grinned.

“I think if there is no more to this date, I would like you to take your clothes off.“ River smirked and the Doctor rolled her eyes.

“Think of an object.“ She urged and River sighed, obliging just to make her happy. A glass of champagne would do nicely right about now and the moment she thought of it, it appeared in her hand.

“Oh.“ This time, River couldn’t deny she was impressed. She grinned as she took a sip of the champagne that was just the right temperature.

“Good, eh?“ The Doctor grinned.

“Have you been reading Harry Potter again?“ River smirked as she looked around the Room of Requirement as she decided to dub it accordingly.

“Not my idea, you know this is all the TARDIS.“ The Doctor laughed as she took a twirl and a big cone of ice-cream appeared in her hand.

“She does have great taste in champagne.“ River chuckled as she took another sip.

“Now, for our date…“ The Doctor grabbed her wife by her shoulders and turned her around. Suddenly, River found herself face to face with what could only be described as a hippogriff from classical mythology. Half horse, half eagle, majestic and apparently quite curious about the two of them.  

“Still Harry Potter themed?“ River teased once she’d overcome her initial surprise. She reached out and gently ran her hand along its feathery neck. It appeared to be very friendly as it leaned into her touch.

“This will be fun, come on.“ The Doctor grinned as she walked up to a second one. Without much ado, she swung herself onto its back. River raised her eyebrows, impressed that she wasn’t being thrown off immediately.

“Like that time we rode all the way to Stonehenge?“ River asked as she circled around the hippogriff she’d been stroking. She got onto its back and looked around to her wife who grinned widely.

“Better.“ She assured her and the hippogriff spread its impressive wings and took off. In that moment, the dark room around them was flooded with blinding light. Suddenly, as far as the eye could see, a grassy landscape stretched. There was a forest in the distance and mountains even beyond that. Suddenly there were three suns in what appeared the be a crystal blue sky. River knew they hadn’t left the TARDIS, she would have felt the teleport, but it certainly felt like they had fallen into another world as the hippogriff she sat on took off as well and wind rushed through her curls.

“I���ll say.“ River exclaimed as she leaned forward and tried to hold on to the hippogriff’s feathers without pulling any out. “Does this room end?“ River called over the roaring of the wind as they climbed higher and she looked down to the meadow below.

“Does the TARDIS end?“ The Doctor called back as her hippogriff circled around them. She appeared to be greatly enjoying herself and looked like she had done this before.

“Fair point!“ River laughed as they were diving and then climbing again, she had always enjoyed flying but this did not compare to steering a space ship, this was much more immediate, much more exhilarating.

“Thought you might like this.“ The Doctor grinned, chuffed with herself.

“I love it.“ River exclaimed as they climbed higher and higher, the ground beneath them only a blur of green. The hippogriffs were just as playful as their riders, circling around each other, taking twirls and dives. “This is amazing!“ River lifted up her arms, enjoying the feeling of the wind between her fingers just as her hippogriff went into a summersault… and she slid off its back, falling.

“River!“ The Doctor shouted in a panic, making her hippogriff dive after her but as she was gaining on her, she could see River was laughing. A moment later, she realised why. A massive pile of hay, meters and meters of it appeared below, towering high enough to cushion River’s fall with ease. “Unbelievable.“ The Doctor huffed but couldn’t stop herself from jumping into the hay as well, though from a much more manageable height. “Are you okay?“ She asked, very much out of breath, as she turned to her giggling wife.

“Perfectly fine.“ River grinned as she sat herself up. The hay slowly started disappearing around them, letting them down gently.

“That was stupid, to let go!“ The Doctor couldn’t help but scold her.

“That was fun.“ River corrected her as she looked up to see the hippogriffs carrying on their game of chase high above them.

“Maybe let’s keep our feet on the ground for now.“ The Doctor suggested once the hay was gone and they sat in the meadow. “How about this.“ She pointed to the right and River looked around to see a picnic laid out.

“Now this looks like a good idea.“ She grinned and got up to make her way over. “I must say, Darling, you’re getting better at the whole date thing.“ She gave her a wink as they sat and the Doctor picked up a plate of what looked like some kind of creamy dessert.

“Try this.“ She picked up one of the tartlets and held it out for River to take a bite.

“Look at you being all romantic.“ River raised her eyebrows in amusement and took a bite of the sweet dessert, only the Doctor pushed the rest of it into her face laughing. She hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity.

“Are you serious?!“ River exclaimed wiping her face with a napkin that appeared in her hand. She glared at her wife but couldn’t keep it up as she saw the childlike joy in her face. River found herself starting to chuckle as well.

“Almost never.“ The Doctor admitted as she took a bite of a tartlet herself.

“How do I put up with you?“ River sighed theatrically, only to throw a dessert at her wife moments later.

“I have often wondered the same thing.“ The Doctor narrowly ducked her attack as she’d seen it coming.

The game could have continued like it for some time, had it not been for the squirrels.

“Oh hello there, and who are you?“ River leaned forward for a better look as she spotted two squirrels sneaking around their picnic basket. Only, they weren’t ordinarily squirrels. They had three tails, six legs and about twice as much fur as their terrestrial counterparts. They were beyond adorable. “Are you looking for something to eat?“ River reached into the basket where she found a packet of nuts that she promptly tore open for them. The Doctor just watched with a soft smile, she didn’t comment, not until one of the squirrels climbed up on River’s arm and scurried around her shoulders, playing with her curls.

“They like you.“ The Doctor smiled.

“Remarkable.“ River hummed in awe as the squirrel climbed down her other arm and settled into her lap for a moment. “I know what you’re doing though…“ She looked up to her wife and wagged her finger at her.

“What do you mean?“ The Doctor raised her eyebrows, confused.

“The TARDIS - as smart and remarkable as she may be - can’t create life like this.“ River pointed out as the squirrels chased off again.

“No?“ The Doctor tried her best to sound innocent which confirmed River’s suspicion.

“No.“ She bopped her wife’s nose. “So that means, these little guys are really here. Where did they come from, Doctor, do tell.“ She tilted her head in amusement, curious as to how she would try to wiggle her way out of this.

“Uhh…“ The Doctor’s face fell and she blushed, caught red-handed.

“Have you been picking up pets while I wasn’t looking?“ River pursed her lips, trying her hardest to sound stern.

“Well, you know…“ The Doctor scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Some planets… when extinction events happen, the native species aren’t advanced enough to do something about it, sometimes, it’s just a little family of three-tailed squirrels sheltering from the storm and…“ She broke off when she saw the grin spreading across her wife’s face as she couldn't maintain the stern facade.

“You sentimental idiot.“ River laughed. “Can’t believe she’s letting you keep them. Bet they all have their own rooms too…“

“Well, there’s lots of different climates and…“ The Doctor started to explain but River interrupted her by pulling her into a kiss.

“I love you.“ She smiled as she pulled away.

“What was that for?“ The Doctor looked back at her surprised.

“That’s just for being you.“ River answered with a loving smile and the Doctor grinned, relieved, though only until River threw another dessert in her face to get even.

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 27

Chapter 27: The Awakening

Cole woke up groggily, unsure if he had even slept at all. The previous night had been rougher than he thought. He froze when he felt an abrupt shift from the body next to him. The brush of bare skin made him groan until he shifted his position to get a good look at the condition of his sleeping partner. Kai was still unconscious, but his eyes weren't shut as tightly. His breathing wasn't as raspy and heavy as it had been the previous night. A small smile graced his lips in between breathing, but the flush of fever still danced across his face.

Carefully, Cole leaned over and pressed his lips to Kai's forehead while the back of his claws ran down the boy's chest and stomach.

He frowned slightly at the warmth of his forehead but smiled when the frosty touch of the boy's skin had faded back to its core temperature. Cole expelled a breath of relief and fished around for a robe or something to quickly throw on. He refused to embarrass his staff when Neuro or someone else returned to check on Kai's health. He found a large, black robe with two slits in the back sitting on the dresser with a note from Harumi. He donned it, making a mental note to thank the seamstress later, and lied down on the bed pulling Kai's shivering form closer to him.

He didn't have long to wait before Neuro and a satyr named Bolobo arrived.

Without a word, Cole let his precious flame go and let them work.

"His core temperature is back up, but it's too early to relax just yet," Bolobo explained feeling Kai's forehead, his chest, and torso and moving outwards his arms and legs. "My prime concern is that fever." He added as her hard brown eyes fell on the heavy red staining Kai's face when he rolled the boy onto his back.

"Is there anything you can give him?" Cole asked the satyr, crossing his arms tightly, his wings twitched with nervous impatience. Neuro looked from Kai to his basket and bit his lip.

"It's too dangerous to give him something while he's unconscious, but I might be able to make something external to reduce the fever." He replied as he dug through his basket and pulled out a corked bottle of pale pinkish-yellow fluid. He carefully uncorked the bottle, filling the room with a thick, woody odor. He set the basket on the floor, poured a few drops on his palm and fingers. He pulled the blankets down with his free hand flinching when Kai started to shiver again and gently rubbed the oil over Kai's chest in smooth circles.

The teen started to inhale deeply then started to calm down.

Neuro repeated the process once more when Kai's skin absorbed the oil, then wiped his hand on a washcloth and recorked the bottle.

"Any more is too risky," He answered before Cole could ask. "Bolobo and Shade will brew up a tonic for when he wakes up, but for now I think it's best to keep him warm and keep getting his body temperature up, he still has the chill in him."

"How long?" Cole asked with grave eyes. Bolobo and Neuro exchanged soulful glances then sighed.

"I'd give him another day or two, but if the hypothermia isn't out of him by then, then there isn't much else we can do," Bolobo replied. Cole nodded and bowed his head back to his slumbering captive. The two left without another word, leaving the two men alone. Kai's breathing was still a bit heavy and his face still flushed but the chill of hypothermia made itself clear each time he shivered. Worry clouded his eyes. Kai had been fine before so why was he shivering now?

Obviousness smacked him in the head like a blunt object.

Kai had his warmth then, being away from it for so long had caused him to relapse. Cole growled and without a second thought began removing his robe. He slid back under the thick blankets and began piling them over Kai's bare arms and shoulders. His wings wrapped around the teen and he pulled Kai closer. He gently rubbed his back in hopes of soothing him. The paste Neuro had used left a sharp, pungent stench in Cole's nostrils, but the aroma seemed to calm Kai a little.

A deeper sigh left Cole when Kai's shivering started to lessen and finally stop.

He smiled graciously when he felt Kai snuggle deeper into his warmth and felt him smile against his skin. He placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Still too warm, but at least his body wasn't as cold. Shifting closer to the body, he gently stroked Kai's cheek taking in the sweet smile and the faint rosy color in his cheeks. His claws tenderly brushed over the soft, warm lips and traced the sloping curves of Kai's cheekbone. He jumped suddenly when he felt Kai burrow deeper into his warmth.

He couldn't help but chuckle.

Kai was the last person he would expect to be a cuddly person, but Cole wasn't one to complain. He gently brushed the spikey brown hair with his claws, smiling as the silk strands wove around his claws. His tail carefully moved under the blankets and coiled over Kai's hip and side like a snake. Anything to draw life back into Kai's body. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for this dragon body. The cursed form he had always hated was now the prime thing keeping Kai alive.

Even now he could feel his body heating up to combat the cold it felt when Kai pressed against it, and he held him tighter to force the warmth back to its source.

Never before did Cole not feel like a monster. Despite his staff's encouragement and Kai all but forcing him to see the truth, a small sliver of doubt kept a leech-like grip on his heart. The reminder that no matter how much Kai cared for him, Cole could never have such a precious gem in his arms as his own. The fact that he was, physically, still a monster was more than enough to shatter the fragile hope he had been building. Never did he consider himself more than what he was.

A man imprisoned in the form of a dragon.

Neither one nor the other but something dismal in between. He never dared to see the beauty of his form. He never thought to experience the gift of flying blessed upon a winged creature. Or realize the effortlessness it took to save another's life or the possibility that his form could do more than hurt, let alone give life. Yet somehow, Kai did. He never looked at Cole with fear or disgust. It was strange, to say the least. Even stranger to daring to hope that the emotions stirring within him were more than simple care.

That maybe, just maybe, the walls be built around himself had faded without his knowledge and that he had begun to do the one thing he knew was impossible, fall in love.

How or why or even when it happened no longer mattered. Cole had found the one person in the world who could understand him. He was sure of that now. However, the danger still remained. Even now, in Cole's arms, Kai was far from safe. Even if his flame woke up, did he admit his feelings? What if these emotions were simply concern or gratification? Would they vanish once Kai regained his health? No, he couldn't take such a risk. Not unless he was positive of himself as well as his heart.

Kai deserved that, at least.

That way, even if Kai didn't feel the same, Cole could die knowing he had found the one thing he desired most. Again, he kissed Kai's forehead and settled back into the comforting embrace of his presence, memorizing as much of the peaceful moment as he could, and believing, for once, that it would last...

****************

Kai hummed as he dreamed of his sanctuary. He found himself lying in a field of sparkling roses, glowing like jewels against the thick, lush, comfy grass. Above him, he could make out the castle. It shimmered against the clear sky as the stained glass windows sparkled like jewels. In the field, he could see Jay chasing Echo across the field with Nelson not too far behind, under the watchful eye of Zane. Ronin and Tox leaned against Bolobo under the shade of a tree.

Shade and Neuro sat on a picnic blanket making daisy chains.

On another blanket, Harumi laid with her head on her wife's lap while Ultra Violet twirled her bangs around her fingers, and Griffin laughed. Kai watched from the hillside, where he lied back against the roses. Except that he wasn't alone this time. Kai wove his fingers with his dream lover's claws, feeling a cool tingle running through them. For a moment they just lied there among the roses, their hands intertwined. Their heads turned and bright amber eyes met brilliant green.

Kai didn't need to see to know who his savior was.

His dream lover. His Dragon Lord. How could he have missed it before? It all made such perfect sense in retrospect. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was what was happening now.

"Come to me, my Flame..." He purred and Kai's eyes widened when his lover began to sing the words of his mother's lullaby in a deep soothing chime. Kai had almost forgotten about it. Even though he had sung the words himself for Lloyd and sometimes Nya when she got too stressed, they sounded so familiar, yet so different. Kai rolled onto his side met his lover's warm eyes with a smile and answered.

"I'm already here, exactly where I want to be." He smiled as he leaned closer so he and his Dragon Lord were only a few inches apart. He hummed when the Dragon Lord began stroking his hair. His eyes fluttered closed, soothed by the tender touch and the crystal chimes in the air. Words filled his mind as the music hummed in his ears.

"Come to me, my Flame..." The dragon repeated. Kai chuckled to himself and leaned a bit closer into his lover's embrace so his head was resting on his folded hands. He heard a low rush of wind then felt cool shade wrap over him.

"I told you, I'm already here." He sighed and his Dragon Lord chuckled, lightly.

"That wasn't what I meant." He spoke in a rich voice with a sultry rasp. Then he began to sing again. Kai could hear him move, and when he opened his eyes, he found his Dragon Lord leaning over him. Kai blinked in surprise and couldn't help but flush at the fact he was sprawled out beneath the Dragon Lord, but his savior just gave him a small smile and whispered.

"Will you be my key, Kai? Will you set me free?" he asked softly. At first, he couldn't answer. The concept sounded foreign but familiar all at once. When he did remember he mentally slapped himself for forgetting. The key to breaking the Dragon Lord's curse. The key to freeing his lover and all the people been nothing but kind to him. Kai smiled at the prince, no doubt or hesitation cloud his voice.

"Yes, Cole, I want to be your key." He promised as he leaned up to meet his lover's lips. Outside his dream world, Kai smiled in his sleep. But his lover didn't kiss him back. Instead, he turned his head, as if startled by a strange noise. Kai blinked and looked at his companion bewildered, even more so when his companion stood up hastily. His eyes focused on something foreign in the distance. Before Kai could ask what was wrong his savior broke into a run.

"Wait! Come back!" Kai called and chased after him, determined not to lose him. The hillside vanished and before he knew it he was chasing the Dragon Lord through a field covered in long grass and speckled in flowers that curled and blackened as they died. He wasn't sure how long they continued to run, but Kai refused to let the distance between them increase. Finally, his Dragon Lord leaped off the hill and vanished behind it. Kai could see his wings and head peeking over the greenery.

The Dragon Lord had stopped in a small clearing, his back still towards Kai, but his wings had fallen limp behind him.

Kai felt a surge of relief when he made it to the hillside and made to call to Cole, but the words were quickly replaced by a scream. At the base of the small hill lied the corpses of all the members of the castle. Red splotched their bodies and their glassy eyes were all frozen open. Thorny rose vines with withered, blackened blooms contorted around their spread arms and bodies. The corpses of roses and vines littered the area like thorny green skeletons speckled with blood shining like scattered rubies against the black ground.

In the center, where the ring of thorns and dead roses died was a circle of scorched earth, vacant of vegetation.

It was as if life knew better than to dare accumulate in that circle. That was where he found his Dragon Lord shaking and collapsed to his knees as if every movement hurt him. His beautiful wings, reduced to tattered strips of bleached leather, his clothes ripped to shreds and blood speckling the visible skin and scales. He turned to Kai with sad, pleading eyes, as if begging him for help. He was either forbidden to speak or didn't have the strength to.

It was then he heard a laugh like ice cracking on a frozen lake.

Kai's blood froze in his veins. He knew that laugh he followed the crackling sound to the man standing in front of his weakened lover.

"Get away from him!" Kai yelled, entering the clearing. There, he saw the same wine and amethyst-colored clothing and soulless eyes of the man who tried to kill him. Rage boiled in his blood as he suddenly recognized who he was. "You're behind all this!" Kai screamed in fury. The man said nothing. He just smiled a curled, mocking smile that set Kai's blood ablaze. His natural protective instincts and anger took over. Sparks crackled to life in his hands forming flames around his fists.

"Ah, so you've discovered your power, too bad it won't do you any good," He mocked the teenager and Kai saw red.

"I said get away from him!" He screamed throwing his hands forward, palms open and bright hot flames burst from his hands, roaring at their victim. But the man didn't flinch. His smile never faltered. Then he threw back his cape and raised a hand, sending a blast of purple fire back at Kai. The flames collided and he blocked the attack with ease. Kai's eyes bulged out of his skull and the man just laughed. When he brought his hand down again the flames and sparks retracted, forming a giant spell that bounced back towards its source.

Kai barely had time to scream before he was thrown backward with such force he skidded against the ground.

He coughed and groaned, aching from the force of his own attack.

"You can't save them!" The man's voice echoed dramatically around from everywhere. Kai shot up and turned to the closest corpse. Echo was lying only a few inches from Jay with their fingers just shy of touching. He got to his feet and crawled over to the boy's body and gently reached to touch it. He retracted his hand when Cole screamed, falling over and clawing at the ground until his wails transformed into a dragon's cry of agony. Lights clustered together above the victims spiraling into single orbs then blazed through the air all spiraling towards a single center.

Above the screaming and writhing Dragon Lord.

His limbs and back contorted. His spine cracked and the scales of his arms, legs, and back began to spread until they covered his entire form. He was no longer a man, but a dragon. Kai rushed to him, but streaming lights stopped him. The Sorcerer crackled like a madman, his laughter increased in volume as all of the lights came together in his hand. Around him Kai could see the ghost of each victim kneeling over their own corpses, weeping bitterly.

Some of them shrieked from despair, others just looked at him with dead, glassy eyes vacant of all emotion.

"I told you, boy, you can't save them," The Sorcerer chided, mockingly. When the lights died away it revealed the object in his hand. A crimson red wax candle with a bright, flickering purple flame. Kai's heart stopped in his chest when he saw it. His eyes fell on the dragon, writing on the ground. He groaned as he moved until their eyes met. The Dragon Lord's eyes were the only thing that was still human. They pleaded for him to run and save himself.

"He'll never be yours, you know." The Sorcerer said as he walked towards him. Kai took a shaky step away from him suddenly overcome by a nameless fear. The Sorcerer's smirk widened as he stepped closer, his intent naked in his eyes. Kai took another step back and stumbled over his own feet and landed on his butt but he continued to back away from the man. The Sorcerer laughed at his efforts and leaned closer so his eyes burned straight into Kai's.

"Even if you give him your mind and body and soul, he can give you his heart, he can give you his body." He smirked as he gestured with his arm to the ring of corpses, his grip on the candle dangerously tight. "But his soul and theirs belong to me!" He roared and suddenly crushed the candle in his hand...

****************

Electric fear shocked his heart and mind to life and Kai shot up panting. Only when he confirmed he was back in his room, and that the contents of his subconscious experience hadn't actually happened did he calm down. He concluded that it was a dream, running a nervous hand through his damp bangs. Or was it a disturbing premonition? He prayed it was the former and not the latter. Just the thought of it coming true sent a shiver of horror through his spine.

However, when he shivered again, he realized it was from cold.

His hands immediately flew to his shoulders and began rubbing his chest, hoping to bring warmth back to his form. He felt nothing between himself and the blankets confirming his suspicions that he was naked. A jolt of alert brought his senses into focus when he felt something wrapped around his torso and a leathery texture pressed against his back and sides. He had never been modest, but the sudden lover-like embrace sent a blush of embarrassment and fear surging through him.

He couldn't remember how he had to be gotten there.

He knew he had been sick, he still felt the weakness in his limbs and his weary body was abnormally pale. Unfortunately, his last clear memory was falling through the ice when he had been skating with the others, the rest were hazy recollections. He heard a light purring next to him, reminding him that he wasn't alone in the bed. Fear of what he might have done compelled him to simply slip away, but the desire to know compelled him to accept his actions.

Slowly, unwillingly, he turned around and looked down and found himself wrapped in the arms and wings of the slumbering Dragon Lord.

Unable to contain himself any longer, a loud, mortified shriek tore itself from his lungs. The sudden scream zapped Cole to life. He tried to take a battle stance but found the bed he was in too small for his massive form and instead he stumbled and collapsed in a mass on the floor. He swore as he got up, forgetting his lack of dress. He yelped and leaped into the air when his upper back and head were attacked. He whirled around and braced himself for a fight only to discover his assailant was a pillow.

Confused, he followed the source and resisted the urge to laugh when he found Kai bunched up, back pressed against the headboard on the other side of the bed.

He clutched the remaining comforter in his fist and held it to his chest like he was trying to merge the cloth with his skin. His free hand clutched braced himself against the mattress, clutching the sheets so tightly they started to rip. His eyes were narrow in embarrassed rage, his jaw twisted to grit and his face was bright scarlet from shame.

"What the hell are you doing here!" He demanded turning redder when the comforter shifted, revealing some of his skin. He used his free hand to cover it up, still blushing glaring. "Why am I naked? Or a better question is why are you naked? And in my room? In my bed!" Kai shrieked, positive he had a permanent blush on his face by now. Cole didn't answer. He had a blank look on his face, like was he momentarily stunned.

"What?" He questioned then looked down at himself. He grimaced at his own stupidity, scooped his robe off the floor, slid his wings through the slits, and clumsily tied it closed as he walked. It did little to cover him. Kai's heart rate doubled in speed watching the near-naked dragon came closer. Questions that needed answers swam in his mind like fish trapped in a net and Cole's silence only increased his panic. Instinctively, he inched away as the Dragon Lord came closer.

Finally, he backed up too far and he fell straight off his bed and landed on his back, only adding to his humiliation.

Cole paused, waiting for him to get up. When he saw this, Kai scampered to his feet as he took the comforter with him and backed away. He cursed when his back hit the wall. He stuttered an order and pointed at his assailant.

"What are you doing?" He demanded but Cole still didn't answer. His face was still vacant of emotion except for shock. He leaned closer and gently grabbed one of Kai's arms and held him steady despite Kai's yelps and stammering protests. "W-W-Wait! Stop!" He cried as he closed his eyes tightly, and struggled in the prince's grip until he felt the gentle touch of lips against his forehead. His eyes flew open and a small blush dusted his cheeks, but for a different reason.

Before he could question the action, Cole removed his lips and replaced them with the back of his hand.

"Your fever's gone." Cole breathed, still in shock. He double-checked, taking into consideration the temperature differences between them. "You're still a bit warm, but it's definitely gone." He added as the realization suddenly brought another concern to light. "You're awake!" Cole exclaimed as he jumped for joy. Kai's eye twitched in frustration.

"Of course, I'm awake! Why wouldn't I be? Now for the last time, Cole what the hell is going on?!" He growled but once again he never got an answer. Cole suddenly grasped his shoulders and pulling him into a tight, loving embrace like Kai would disappear if Cole loosened his grip. Kai was even more confused now. Cole released him and smiled at the confused boy. "What's going on?" Kai asked again, bewilderment all over his face. Cole stared at him like he was insane.

"You... you don't remember?" He frowned, then he pinched the top of his nose. "Of course, Kai, what's the last thing you remember?" He asked but Kai struggled to remember.

"I was skating with the boys and the ice broke, I think I fell in and, then it was all a blur; I remember a shadow, a light, music, and something... a voice calling out to me, but... I don't know if that was real or if I was dreaming... what does this have to do with anything?"

"Kai, you had hypothermia, you've been asleep for three days." Cole sighed with a grave look. Kai was glad Cole was holding him since if he hadn't been Kai was sure he would have collapsed from shock. "You were unconscious and freezing; everyone was worried sick, but thankfully, my body heat managed to get your core temperature back up." He smiled weakly but one look from Kai cut him off.

"Cole, what happened?" He asked. The sharpness in the boy's eyes and the gravity in his voice demanded the truth. Cole frowned but didn't look away. His face was conflicted. As if it was torn between two decisions that both promised a negative end.

"I dove in to save you, but I thought you were trying to leave so I threw you in the dungeon." He admitted in shame and Kai's eyes widened. "But after reading your gift, I realized how stupid I was and freed you but..."

"But what?" Kai asked, but Cole was hesitant.

"Nothing." He muttered, but Kai wasn't stupid.

"Cole, you saw him, didn't you? The man with the red cloak?" He asked, but it was clearly a statement.

"How do- How do you know?" He stuttered in disbelief.

"The night I... ran away, he... well, he made it obvious what he wanted, when I escaped him he sent that beast on me, didn't he? That's why you came to save me, wasn't it? You knew it was him? He did something again, didn't he? With that monster in the lake?" He explained with a frown like he had been keeping a terrible secret and had no choice but to reveal it to prevent devastation. Cole's hands fell limp at his sides and stumbled backward until he was sitting on the mattress.

He opened his mouth to speak but no sound would come out.

The words died in his throat. Kai's expression hadn't changed. Instead, he leaned over and put a hand on Cole's knee so they were face to face.

"Cole, I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth alright?" He said as the gravity in his voice was rivaled only his. Cole nodded. He said nothing but his eyes promised Kai the world. "That night, you and I saved each other, tell me... did I kill that monster with fire magic?"

"Yes, you did," Cole answered, sensing the desperation in his plea. Kai didn't look surprised. Instead, he fell to his knees, his arms at his sides, allowing the comforter to pull around his hips. His hair shadowed his eyes, but Cole caught the smile on his face. Cole knelt down in front of him, his wings braced to comfort him, but Kai just chuckled darkly. "So it did happen, that explains it."

"Explains what?" Cole asked confused, gently tilting Kai's chin so their eyes were even. He gasped in surprise when he saw the tears glistening at the base of Kai's lashes, but his twisted smile hadn't faltered.

"Everything," He retorted but regretted it when he saw the worry on the prince's eyes. Kai pulled away from him and pulled himself back so he was leaning against the wall. Feeling cold returning, he pulled the comforter up and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"It was you, Cole, I'd been dreaming about you." He growled as his hands started shaking and he looked at the floor, unable to look Cole in the eye. "After I arrived here, they started becoming clearer and clearer; now... now, I'm convinced somehow they're real, my dreams, my magic," He muttered as he looked at his shaking hands, remembering how it felt when sparks flew between them. "Now, I'm convinced something terrible will happen, and the worst part is that I don't think I can stop it."

Cole couldn't take anymore and rushed to the teen's side.

He gently ceased Kai's shoulders and pulled him closer. He hadn't failed to notice the tears abandoning his face.

"Kai, shush, don't worry about that, they're just dreams." He soothed, stroking Kai's bangs away from his face and gently running the smooth backs of his claws over his cheek to brush away the tears. Kai shook his head and whipped his eyes with his arms, angry at himself for his lack of control, but the tears of fear and sheer helplessness refused to stop.

"They're not dreams, Cole! I was naïve to think they were!" He shouted. The volume and intensity, caused Cole to fall back from shock. Kai's fist shook in rage next to him and his wild eyes were bright with unrivaled certainty. "I know about the curse, Cole," He whispered, trying to look away, but found he couldn't. "I pretended not to because no one likes to talk about it, but I know, and I know him... that man, sorcerer, whoever he is he's behind it, isn't he? If you don't break the curse by spring he's going to take your soul, right!? Tell me!"

Cole said nothing, but his neutral mask spoke more than a thousand words.

"I know no one can reveal the details of the curse or how to break it, even you, but that doesn't matter, I'll find a way." He promised as he shifted his position so he and Cole were face to face. Tears glittered on Kai's eyelashes, but he was smiling, happily, making Cole more confused. "Cole, I don't regret coming here, or choosing to stay; being here with you, the boys, everyone... I've never been happier than I am when I'm here, everyone here is so wonderful; no one's treated me like an outcast."

He paused for a moment, but no doubt or hesitation clouded his voice when he spoke next.

"Whenever I'm with you, I can't explain it but... I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life." Kai smiled brightly, gently whipping aside a joyful tear. Reading the bewildered and almost blank look on Cole's face the entire time he spoke, Kai didn't know how Cole would react to his declaration. The moment Kai finished his sentence Cole pulled him into his arms and rested his chin on Kai's shoulder. At first, the sudden embrace surprised him, but Kai could feel the warmth and the passion behind it radiating against their bare skin.

"Cole?" Kai questioned, but it was more a statement of happiness than a voice of concern.

"I don't care about that stupid curse," He whispered against Kai's skin. He blinked and gently pulled away, confused. Cole just smiled at him and wrapped his arm around Kai's still covered waist and stroked his cheek. "I mean it, even if I lose my soul; even if I spend the rest of eternity in hell, I don't care! That bastard can do whatever he wants to me, it won't change anything, and do you know why?" He asked, but Kai didn't and Cole smiled again.

"Because I'll always be able to take this with me." He declared and Kai's widened at what the man was implying and a slight pink color rose in his cheeks. Cole chuckled and hugged him tighter. "You've made me happier too, Kai, happier than I'd ever thought possible, I'd given up hope that I'd ever been happy again." He said as he pulled away to look Kai in the eye and pressed their foreheads together. "I'm not going to lose that or throw it away for anything so I promise you, no matter what gets thrown in my way or who stands in front of me, I promise I'll protect you with every fiber of my being, nothing is going to take you away from me, my flame."

Kai didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Tears burst from his eyes and laughter exploded from his mouth.

He threw his arms around Cole's neck and hugged him with such force he was taken off guard and his scaled spine and wings crashed against the bed frame. They both laughed at the action, but when their eyes opened and locked once more, they wasted no time and closed the distance between them. Lips molded perfectly over the other, Kai's arms wrapped tightly around Cole's neck and shoulders. Cole's wrapped around Kai's waist pressing the blanket still wrapped around Kai's hips and torso, closer to his flesh.

One hand stroked up Kai's upper back as his tail twitched at his side.

The kiss slowly turned deeper. His body moving on its own, Cole kept one arm around Kai's waist and the other clutched the bed and hoisted himself up. His arm repositioned Kai so he was holding him bridal style with one arm. Kai's arms tightened their hold on Cole, not wanting to break away just yet. They finally paused to breathe when they fell back against the mattress. Cole took notice at how lovely Kai looked sprawled out beneath him on the bed.

Face flush, one arm level with his head the other at his side, eyes half-lidded with passion, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

Seeing that the dragon hybrid above him wasn't moving, Kai leaned forward and kissed Cole passionately. He pulled him closer against him, urging him to move, and Cole obeyed. His body was now flush against Kai's as their arms wrapped around the other. The loose knot of his robe had come undone long ago. The comforter, the only thing separating them, slipped further down Kai's waist until it finally settled just above his hips.

"Rise and Shine you too! Shade made tea!" Neuro suddenly shouted as he burst through the door, balancing a tray with a large steaming teapot and several teacups in one hand and used the other to pry Echo, Nelson, and Jay off his waist. Harumi suddenly shoved the articles she had been holding into Ronin's arms and tried to help pry the servants off Neuro. The sudden commotion brought the two men back to reality. Their eyes flew to the spectacle, which froze the instant it turned its attention to the two on the bed.

All of their eyes flew open at the sight of their Master, robe opened and sprawled on top of their guest, who was in nothing but a bedsheet.

Amber and emerald eyes widened in horror. The servants just stared, too shocked to do anything else. Suddenly, the entire East Wing erupted in eight different, horrifying screams. No one noticed the red eyes peeking through the crack in the curtains...

[nauseateddrive]

4 POEMS by Jake Sheff

Elegy for Dog I: A Failed Acrostic

January was tired when it became king. Apples here love being red in the spring, Casting shadows against the stone architraves our Kapellmeister will never live down. You Stole Apollo’s cows, and let them graze to show me Heaven’s template. Where do failed heroes go? Eucalyptus cupolas and polar icecaps Frame the downtrodden gods. But you weren’t Freakishly wrong, as I so often am, on your

Joyride through nearly twice eight years, Á la someone far from beauty’s stepmom. Copper coin or grimacing sun? I’ve got 20,000 Kor of crushed grief on this threshing floor. Shark-sparks of sadness flood the impetiginous air… How, and why, do clouds cobblestone Entire days, and lakes, when you’re not here? Fixing every broken thing, poets go where Ferns and geraniums baptize the morning.

“Jur-any-oms,” is how you’d spell it; After all, a dog’s a dog, and wisdom knows futility. Cassations make a rusty brew, to drink the truth of truths, and Kill whatever ceases wanting to be new. Stewardship, the color of gravity’s silence, naturally Houses every “glur” (a glittery blur); go chase what plays Eternal games. I hear the swans by Rooster Rock. Your handsome Face, its happy handsomeness, in memory’s eye, goes in and out of Focus; in love’s better eye: your goodness neath its everblooming ficus.

Gravity and Grace on SW Murray Scholls Drive

“Impatience has ruined many excellent men who, rejecting the slow, sure way, court destruction by rising too quickly.” Tacitus, The Annals of Imperial Rome

The traffic lights control the people’s actions, but Not their feelings, as the limits of philosophy Collide head on with the nose of a Dalmatian.

I tell you, the day is stress-testing itself, and these Sidewalks wish that it’d just gone straight. Geese Take this sky-hairing wind for granted, as they

Land on the lake like memorable speech on The sensitive soul. Time is never sharp, but it’s Cutting something in the credit union. Maybe

It’s dancing a back Corte for the woman in line Thinking about the taste of limes from Temecula As she waits for the teller. Air Alaska and that

Haunted pie in the sky are not the only reasons For all the volatility in the air today. Rushing And perfectionism both produce a loss; behind

The Safeway Pharmacy, you’ll see the small Smells of both, sloshing around to the ticking- Sound of the ocean’s tides. I must admit, I am

Frozen in place by the sight of steam from Joe’s Burgers; it is poetry’s pale tongue, rising in And arousing the air. This neighborhood’s street-

Lights are more serious than kokeshi dolls. Lights From its windows outshine poison dart frogs. Maybe to forget about life for awhile, the lamps

Are focused on The Population Bomb? ‘Easy Tiger,’ all these incidents whisper. Each day’s A sign twirler’s dais; each corner a promise

Of something more in a different direction: it isn’t A marriageable daughter or impoverishment, But inguinal ingenuity plays a part, and that isn’t

Bad at all. What oaths and paths went here Before Walmart? What voices were voided by The liquor store? What are vague’s values

When the library shares a parking lot with a 24- Hour gym and a cargo cult? Gas stations satirize                                                                           The Queen of Hearts; I tell you, it makes every

Question seem incidental. Treaty-breakers in Pajamas swing on the swing sets. Was August That full of angst? It feels like autumn went too

Far on accident. Desertification, in a sugar tong Splint, takes a shot of ouzo and talks shit About the death of Brutus, but my Bible-thumping

Memory – on a ski hill in Duluth – is also too busy Watching some ducks on the lake to notice; and Desertification makes a face at me like a Swedish

Film. Poets make for poorly picked men to Familiarity’s paymaster-general. The Calvinistic Rain is an ill-starred attempt to make mayonnaise-

Fries just for me, but I must admit, it all seems – You know – cybernetic. And step-motherly as all Get out, if you ask the trees. They prefer “You

Can’t Hurry Love,” by The Supremes, to any Changes that take effect in one to two pay periods. Pretext ricochets; a perfect reverse promenade.

At Summer Lake, When the Vegetables are Sleeping

Cruelty drinks all the wine, and never gets drunk On these shores. When Summer Lake speaks, In every word, an introduction to the world. I am

Easily duped. The greatest duper duplicates my pride, Which always lingers, in the hallways of my heart And beneath the surface of Summer Lake. The sky is

Supplicating, it’s literally shaking. An hour passes Faster here, the hour always held too dearly dear In paranoid and ivied walls. The ducks can do

An unwise thing correctly, and it sounds more like Dusty than Buffalo Springfield to the enokitake Sold in Springfield, Illinois, which is the opposite

Effect it has on the wild mushrooms on these shores. On cables capable of love, the geese convince The weather to taste like kvass today. Basically,

Another Cuban Missile Crisis drowned itself just Now. The clouds might ask themselves, ‘Is lowliness Allowed here?’ To which the crows might ask,

‘Does omertà sound like lightning?’ The answer’s Oubliette is ten times worse than impotence. Summer Lake isn’t smart, but it stays quiet, like

Someone too smart to say all they know. ‘Whoa, Sweet potato,’ the capital gains tax mutters To itself, knowing that what matters doesn’t mean

A thing. Some say the lake bottom’s sands receive Commands from Hearst Castle, others say Its hands are King City’s hands, and still others

Maintain more sins have been than grains of sand Times secondary gains, and that explains The beauty and industry that none can see but

All can feel on these shores. (Some possibilities Play possum, or get opsonized by hate; this one snores Like Rip Van Winkle.) This orb-weaver spider is

The Milton Friedman of Summer Lake, the wind On her web is Grenache from The Rocks District Of Milton-Freewater AVA for the eyes. The day is

Stereotypical, although it feels like three days In one…But for the lake’s good counterfactual Questions, I would forget that some die young,

But most die wrong. I’ve tried to pick up Summer Lake’s reflections in three lines or less, but The hardest truth is your own impotence. Oh,

It’s hard to hand your power over to a thing No one can see. Hopped up on distinctions – not The obvious distinctions – Summer Lake is pretty;

Cold, but pretty! In the distance, with so many Intercessory prayers, hot air balloons are rising; Shaped like teardrops, upside down and rising.

This lake re-something-or-anothered me. Are first Impressions wrong sometimes? I am a season’s Golden calf, according to the sunlight, doing

A prospector’s jig on the surface of Summer Lake. If not for the Weimar Republic’s wooden- Headedness, I’d set down my heart-song and

Listen to reason on these shores. I never trust An activist guitar, if the weather is socially clumsy. The future is reflected on the lake: it always

Laughs at us – between its math and gratitude Lessons – and never thinks of (or gives thanks to) Us enough. The presence in the lake juniors

My ears. The day is not too baffling, nor is it Jane Eyre. Space-themed and spiritual, some autumn Leaves are swimming in the rain. The ducks arrest

My attention in the mardy weather, even though they Must know my attention is dying. The barbed wire Around my stated goal is an outcome out of

Their control. Picnickers picnic with acorns and apricots, On blankets covering Holy Schnikey’s death mask. My unsandaled thoughts thrive and increase on these,

And no other shores. They are pets for the days less Important than love, when Summer Lake says it’s Humble, because it knows the right thing to say.

Summer Lake gives the comfort of commonly held And seriously absurd beliefs to the blue heron. Nothing is wrong with this lake or anything in it,

Not even the ghost of Amerigo Vespucci. It’s all so Simple to the stiff-necked molecules of water, made out Of frogs and snails and puppy-dog’s tails. These thoughts

Are fine manna in a fine ditch. Post-structuralist squirrels Can tell my heart’s in Italy, and I’m in the intellectual Laity. Chivalry’s technician sees my shovel, and they say,

‘You’ve got to hand it to him.’ Neurocysticercosis Sets the bar high; it looks at this park, and thinks The smartest monkey drew the perfect landscape.

That’s this maple tree’s previous disease, its precious One. It unfurls the ferns of my firm and foremost Beliefs, I’m told, to partialize insufferable vastidity.

We Install a Sump Pump on (What Used To Be) a Holiday (Take 2)

The oppressive heat was born a fully grown Man. I admire the result of its effort, but Despise the means of achieving it. My wife Asserts her individuality in the gunk; her Body’s allegations aren’t too soft or hard today. Her self-interest seems to have drowned in the vortex.

Our little garden knows flippancy with regards To privacy is unwise. The stepping stones can Only blather, as slugs draw nomograms on Their faces. My wife’s body speaks Proto-Indo- European in the vortex and denim overalls. Marc Chagall’s The Poet studies her. He calls her

‘Innocence: The opposite of life! A criminal with A badge!’ I hand her the tools of a crude and Rudimentary faith, and she says, ‘Jill, great books Make fine shackles.’ Her arms only have An administrative objective in the vortex, but They are where good things come from.

Jake Sheff is a pediatrician in Oregon and veteran of the US Air Force. He's married with a daughter and whole lot of pets. Poems of Jake’s are in Radius, The Ekphrastic Review, Crab Orchard Review, The Cossack Review and elsewhere. He won 1st place in the 2017 SFPA speculative poetry contest and a Laureate's Choice prize in the 2019 Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest. Past poems and short stories have been nominated for the Best of the Net Anthology and the Pushcart Prize. His chapbook is “Looting Versailles” (Alabaster Leaves Publishing).

[criquette-was-here]

Long Awaited Replies

Hello everyone! It’s been awhile since my last activity here. Stuff’s just got real last few months and I am now experiencing some heavy RLS which makes the future of the whole Feverfew project quite uncertain. I’m very annoyed by the fact I have to move the release date over and over again, but, fingers crossed, I’ll be able to manage to make it this year. But before I post any updates, I need to answer my inbox!

@landgraabsims​ said:

feverfew is absolutely gorgeous!! is it inspired by any real-life places or towns? i live in england and it reminds me of a few in-the-middle-of-nowhere villages i've visited c:

Thanks @landgraabsims​! Yes, Feverfew is based on British countryside aesthetics without any towns or villages in particular. It has a bit of everything, really. It’s a fantasy place after all. But I do use a lot of real life references for making landmarks for it.

Anonymous said:

any idea of the date of release for feverwood? just redownloaded sims 2 and im in loveee

Hey Anon! I’m glad you like it! I really hope to make it happen this year.

Anonymous said:

i would die (or pay) for zagoskin omg it looks like TS3

Oh, thank you, Anon!

@katzengirl​ said:

Hello Criquette! I don't have a challenge or a question or a request. I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate the things you've shared with us! I hope you're having a good day.

Hello Kristina! That is so sweet, thank you ^___^ I hope you’re doing fine too!

Anonymous said:

Hi there, Criquette. Been having fun with your Rural Charm set and the Better Lighting.  Ran into one small problem with the RC. One of the narrow curves picks up the texture from a road section with a crosswalk, so that looks a bit odd (30degree inner?).  And a question - is there a Better Lighting for the Iron Bracket street lamp with the seasons banner?  Thought the iron bracket would work, but it's not. Anywho, Thank You for ALL the work you put into making our hoods look fantastic!

Hey Anon! Thanks! Depending on the road DR you’re using, there can be some  texture issues here and there since Rural Charm is optimised for road texture without any markings (apart from the broken white line). As for the Iron light post with a banner – no. I’ve only made 2 Maxis’ base game lamp posts.

Anonymous said:

It's amazing how this one game embraces so many different types of players. I'm planning to create my very own nh from scratch, and I'd be a liar not to recognize how your game pics inspired me to the task (not to mention your ever impressive work of hood deco cc throughout these years). For all that, as much as I'm just another anon, thank you, sincerely. But that left me wondering: do you also/still play with the other ts2 game modes or they no longer interest you?

Oh, that is so kind, Anon. Thank you! Yes, I do love to actually play the game. I enjoy building/decorating lots as much as live mode. In fact, I often get carried away during playtest sessions and just keep playing in lot mode and that’s why there are lots like ��The Tower Inn’ or ‘The Moose & Beaver’ or sims like Tilda Phidbach, WHT-FC28 servo and their field lab.

Anonymous said:

Criquette, do you know something about this project? thesims1master tumblr (the idea is to make the game look like the beta version. I ask, because I liked it so much, but I haven't been able to find the person behind it and I'm very curious to see more or download it, as well as his world, which I've been waiting for since last year lol)

Hey Anon! Oh, I don’t think I know anything about this project, no. But it looks rather interesting!

@forever-evenfall​ said:

Hey Criquette! I just downloaded your Lighting Remedy (because I only just realised I needed to change the txt file and not just download it lol) and when I placed your lighting text in the program files, the lighting itself worked, but the terrain itself was flashing red. Do you know what I did wrong? I literally don’t think I can play without the fix lol. I am using UC and I placed it in the Fun With Pets/SP9/TSData/Res/Lights folder. Should I have put it somewhere else?

Hello Eve! I might be wrong, but isn’t it Mansions & Gardens SP that stands for UC? Anyway, flashing red terrain is really weird consequence for just replacing a txt file. Neighborhood terrain doesn’t have any dynamic light. It has a light map instead which comes with Lighting remedy too. If you only just replace the lighting txt file without putting LR light map into your ‘Downloads’ folder, the only issue you should get would by unsynchronized light directions for hood decos and the terrain itself.

Anonymous said:

I'm having a problem: not all the decorations I put in the neighborhood are showing up in simulation mode, even with the fade off and the long-range vision on. I think there is some code that I need to add to the game files to make all the decorations appear. But I can't find how to do this: c Can you help me?

Hello Anon! Basically, there’s only one type of hood deco that isn’t showing up in lot mode and that is neighborhood effects. All the decals, flowers, fields, all the animated stuff (except for texture animation, e.g. Maxis’ marquee sign) is not showing up in lot mode. There’s nothing we can do about it. Yet. If you think that there’s a proper hood deco that isn’t showing up in lot mode, please PM me with some screenshots and we could try to sort it out.

Anonymous said:

Hello--Anon who asked about additional pieces for the Rural Charm set--I see now, thank you for explaining about the floating intersections.  Is there anything you recommend then, to add on to existing roads? Otherwise, thanks for taking the time to explain.

Hello Anon! Oh, you’re most welcome. There is a tedious way to replace a texture on the existing tile of the real road, to make in into intersection so that it would connect better visually with decorative road pieces. But that takes time. What you have to do is to determine the tile you want to edit using technique described in this tutorial and then you have to change the texture name in the corresponding line. The texture names for the intersections (their index name parts) can be found in any road DR beforehand.

@sunradersimblr​ said:

Hi, I'm just wondering if you've ever done hood deco of a highway rest stop like the type we see in the U.S. along interstates and state highways, just a green space, usually, with toilet facilities and a place for a picnic and parking lot? I need one for a story and thought I'd check with you. Thanks for all the great work you share! 

Hello Sunrader! That would be really nice addition for the highway set, but I haven’t made it. Thought it’s quite possible to make something similar if you use ‘One side exit piece’ from the motorway set and add some picnic tables, umbrellas and benches using street tables & benches set. There’s also many 4t2 deco conversions for toilets and other small size decos that would help to create a decent resting stop.

@nataliepop​ said:

Hi there Criquette! There's a new game called Townscaper which I think you'd like. The architecture has an English aesthetic and you build cities or towns but it all starts on an ocean. It's in early access, so I hope by the time it officially releases they add boats and piers. Look it up on Steam or Youtube. I saw it via someone who usually does Cities Skylines videos. Btw, have you ever played that? Also, apart from sims what else do you enjoy playing? Anyway, hope you are having a good day!

Hey Natpop! Thanks for a lovely game suggestion! I’ve checked it out and it looks really fun. Can’t say I’d play it though XD All my free time (which I don’t have atm) is reserved for simming hood deco making working on Feverfew ^^

Anonymous said:

hey~ i love all of your stuff, you're so talented (๑♡⌓♡๑) i wanted to ask, do you think you'll ever release feverfew's sc4 map? 

Thank you Anon! That’s very kind. I’m not sure if there’s any point in releasing SC4 map I used for Feverfew because it’s completely differs from the way it looks now. The road layout is different, there’s no canal, no islands on the river, hills are different, etc. It has been heavily terraformed and edited during development process. I’d recommend just to wait till the Feverfew neigborhood release.

Anonymous said:

Hi! Do you have any idea of when Feverfew will be released? :) 

Hey Anon! It will be released this year, hopefully!

Anonymous said:

Hello :D Is it possible to get your linden trees as lot objects in build/garden section? I love them and they beautify my neighborhood but could really use an option to select them on lots too :)

Hello Anon! Yes, that’s possible, though I can’t say if I could make it myself. What I can say though, is that there’s a linden trees redux coming soon. It would make linden trees look better and highly optimised so that it would only take 4,5 Mb instead of 60 Mb without any losses in texture quality and resolution. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Speak No Evil

No Archive Warnings Apply (see tags for warnings) Category: F/F Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Relationship: Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar) Characters: Azula (Avatar)Ty Lee (Avatar)Mai (Avatar)Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Romance, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulation, Healing, Recovery, Mental Health Issues, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Redemption

Summary: Azula, in the middle of a rocky redemption/recovery peruses an even shakier relationship with TyLee. Communication is difficult enough before she had lost the ability to speak. 

It is a nice night by most standards, a truly, genuinely beautiful night. Anyone would agree. Even she agrees. She has to when the facts are so objective. The temperature is just right it isn’t smoldering and it certainly isn’t cold. Azula always has been fond of the subtle rhythms created by palm fronds shaken by the wind. A gust that is subtle yet alluringly fragrant. She isn’t well versed in flora so she can’t name the precise scent, but it is floral and has a fruity tang. She thinks maybe pineapple and that the fruits may be in bloom at the moment. Everything is lush and green and the sand she lays in is soft. Albeit she isn’t fond of sand; it is messy and always lodges itself in the smallest, most unsavory places on the body. Namely she hates when it burrows under her nails, both finger and toe. And it is damn near impossible to shake out of her hair. She would rather not be laying in the sand.

But she has a nice view of the stars. They carefully arrange themselves into the most aesthetically pleasing alignment that they possibly can. They twinkle around a sliver of a moon. Just as she is no botanist, Azula is also not an astronomer; she can’t spot the constellations and she isn’t sure of which phase of the moon she is seeing.

The water also has its own charm. It’s steady rush and churning is a nice addition to the rustling fronds and the occasional iguana-parrot call. The toad-squirrels are also very lively tonight. Everything makes noise. Everything but her.

.oOo.

She had been home only for perhaps two months. Three times the charm, or so they say; she was coming out of her fourth relapse and was feeling no better about her psyche and overall health and wellbeing.

TyLee was waiting for her at the turtle-duck pond. TyLee always waited for her there. Well, always was a bit of a stretch. Sometimes she thought that TyLee couldn’t even stand to look at her, much less sit down and converse with her for a half an hour or better. But that day TyLee was waiting for her. Waiting and smiling as gleefully as ever. That was because she didn’t know… Granted, Azula hadn’t known either.

She sat herself at a good distance from the pond itself but near enough for TyLee to reach out and touch her.

“Good morning, Azula! How are you feeling today!?”

And that was it really. Perhaps she was in a mood, she must have been, because that was all it had taken. She was tired of that question over and over again. How patronizing it was to always have people inquiring about her moods as if they had any right to know. She didn’t need to constantly report back to them about her emotional state.

“I’m fine.” She snapped.

TyLee’s smile faded into a dull look of distress. She thought that the woman might have even flinched. This too, sent her reeling. That TyLee still didn’t trust her enough to not wince every time she expressed displeasure. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“L-like what?” TyLee asked.

“That!” Another flinch told her that she had raised her voice. She didn’t think that she had raised it that much. “Like you're still afraid of me.”

“I am still afraid of you.” TyLee confessed abruptly before bringing her hands to cover her mouth.

Azula looked over the little bundle of flowers that TyLee had laid down next to a platter of strawberry cheesecake and the petals that she had sprinkled around the dainty teacups. It was arranged so flatteringly and her favorite flavor of mochi sat neatly at the center of the picnic blanket. It wasn’t a gesture of love, Azula concluded, but one of fear. TyLee had gone to great lengths because she was afraid of what the princess would do if she didn’t.

Azula surmised that all of this was foolishness,  that it was all a lie. That she had wasted her time thinking that there could ever be trust and love without fear. She swallowed once before the pangs of regret and sadness gave way to anger and frustration. It was more self directed but that didn’t stop TyLee from wincing again.

Azula wished that she wouldn’t have. Maybe if TyLee hadn't winced...hadn’t made her feel like one, she wouldn’t have become a monster. Again. She sneered, her eyes flashing with a fury that even she was plainly aware was unwarranted. “Oh, I haven’t given you a reason to be afraid yet, but I can.”

“You already have.”

“So that’s what this is then? You only put this,” she gestures to the food, “together because you’re afraid of what I would have done if you...”

“I put it together because it makes you happy. And you’ve been so upset lately...”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t lie to me, TyLee. You’re a dreadful liar. I know what you think of me...”

“Azula...”

She lifts her hand up. “Just clean all of this up, I hate strawberries anyways.” She lies. “Just like I’ve always hated your ditzy, happy-go-lucky façade.”

.oOo.

But she never hated any of it. Truly, it was and is what keeps her hanging on. From entirely losing herself again. She supposes that it doesn’t matter anymore. It is too late to take it back. It is too late to do anything anymore. To do anything but lay there and wish her struggles away.

Blood trickles from the side of her mouth.

She should have done better. She should be better. She promised TyLee that she would, but she had lied again. She didn’t mean it, but it has been done. It can’t be salvaged. She can’t be salvaged. She is well aware that she has been running through chance after chance and she doesn’t think that she has many left, if any at all. She wishes that she were a better person. She wishes that she knew how to love a person correctly... She has a lot of wishes.

There is a lot of blood. The trickle is more like a steady floor. It fills her mouth. Swallow or spit, more comes up to replace it. She touches a trembling hand to the side of her mouth. It is so thickly slick. But the night is so pretty, so glorious, so lushly fragrant and the night noise is so soothing. She thinks that it may be trying to hum her to sleep. She thinks that when she goes to sleep that she will wake amid those diamond-dust clouds or that she won’t wake at all.

She shouldn’t but she does. She closes her eyes. “Just clean all of this up, I hate strawberries anyways. Just like I’ve always hated your ditzy, happy-go-lucky façade.”

She wishes that it weren’t the last thing she had said.

[marvelousstevetony]

That’s What Friends Are For

Set in a world where all the Avengers live happily together in Avengers Tower. Everyone gets along, no friendship-threatening arguments (Civil War who?). Pre-slash stevtony, the Avengers are good friends. 

This will (hopefully) have multiple parts :)

Part 1: 

————————

Spring in New York city is slowly setting in. The weather is getting warmer, the trees are coming into leaf, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are tweeting and chirping like their lives depend on it, so loud that you can hear it in spite of the noisy traffic in the busy city. Couples are going on walks and picnics in Central Park, children are eating ice cream, and people are wearing shorts and t-shirts, even though it is still slightly too chilly whenever the light breeze catches on. 

Even the Avengers love the transition from the cold and frosty winter, to the sunny and joyful spring-time.

All things considered, spring is lovely, and most of if not the entire team would argue that it is the best time of the year to spend in New York.

Well, that excludes Steve. Steve was not having any of it. 

“ehhTIISH’oo! Ugh.”

Because, for Steve, spring-time meant allergy-season. And Steve absolutely hated allergy-season.

Growing up, Steve probably had even possible seasonal allergy, and he had hoped they’d faded away as he got the serum. But just like Dr. Erskine had said. The serum amplifies everything that’s inside. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse. 

Steve hadn’t considered that would also apply to his allergies. At least his asthma isn’t as bad, which he doesn’t quite understand why, but definitely doesn’t complain about. The allergies, though? Well, they don’t appear as frequent as they used to, at least not for longer time periods, but when do hit him. Oh God, that’s a whole different story.

“uh-huhTSCHusshh! SNFF! h’UHh… uhhISCHIEW!” 

He sneezes off to the side, his hair falling into his eyes as his waist snaps in half. Rubbing at his itchy eyes, he lets out a stuffy sigh and leans back in his chair.

He’s waiting for the rest of the team to turn up for the mandatory post-operation debrief and, as usual, Steve’s the first to show. Somehow, even when voluntarily coordinating search and rescue, he always manages to escape medical and get ready to close up for the day. Maybe it’s because he hates procrastinating, or maybe he’s just too exhausted and beat up to keep his head clear for long. Today, it’s definitely the latter. 

He wants nothing more than to just go to bed, but he has an important work meeting afterwards. As if fighting off an army of robotic aliens wasn’t enough for one day.

“SnffSNF! huhh- hutschhuh! he-uhh…” He brings up an arm, aiming the sneeze at his elbow, keeping it up as he feels another one coming on, but it’s stuck. Great, he thinks to himself and lets out a congested grunt.

“You hangin’ in there, Stevie?” 

Looking up with bleary eyes, Steve sees Bucky emerging from the door. He’s leaning against the door frame, his hair still damp from sweat and kept in a bun, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“uhh… yeeh- yeah, I’m fine. snf! Just wanna get this over with.”

“That makes two of us,” Bucky moves to sit down next to Steve, wincing slightly when he rolls his shoulder.

“Your arm okay?” Steve frowns a little, concern clear on his face. He knows not to worry too much, but he can’t help it.

“It’ll be okay,” Bucky shrugs. “Stark’s going to take a look at it after debrief. If he and the rest of them could speed the fuck up and actually get here,” he quips with a grin.

Steve huffs a laugh and gives a nod. “Yeah. Should be here soon enough, I hope. I have to be somewhere after this.”

Bucky cocks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, in bed after a long shower. That’s where you should be. You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks, Buck. Always so supportive,” Steve jokes, lightly nudging Bucky good shoulder. “Wish I could be going to bed, though. Have a meeting, can’t miss it.”

“Y’know, this is the worst time for you. You literally spent hours outside today. Pollen count’s ridiculous. You’re going to be a mess — a bigger mess — by tonight.”

“I know,” Steve sighs heavily and harshly scrubs at his face. Just hearing someone say the word pollen makes his face prickle and his nose twitch uncontrollably. Steve sniffles quickly, and Bucky notices it immediately and quickly grabs a tissue from the side table and hands it to Steve, who thankfully accepts it. 

“Bless ya, punk,” Bucky says preemptively, smiling sympathetically. 

Steve gives him a displeased glare before burying his face in the soft material. “tiisshh! ish! heIIiishh! Guhh.” He sniffles thickly, and groans annoyedly. He’s gotten to the point where the sneezes do nothing apart from making him even more sniffly. Ridding the itch, it definitely does not.

“Those didn’t sound helpful at all,” Bucky murmurs and gives Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. 

Steve just shakes his head and worries at his nose with the tissue. “They weren’t.” 

Bucky glances over his shoulder, hoping that the rest of the team will enter soon enough, but it seems unlikely. He grunts as he stands and walks towards the door. “I’ll go tell them to get their shit together and hurry.”

Steve doesn’t get to object before Bucky has left the room, and, somehow, everyone is gathered in the room less than five minutes later. (How Bucky did that is a mystery to Steve. He’ll have to ask him how to do that later.)

***

About halfway through the debrief, Steve is ready to die. He’s kept fairly composed so far; frequent sniffles and teary eyes, but no sneezing yet. They are just about to discuss the damage and decide how to clean up to city after the numerous destructions when Steve’s nose starts tickling.

“Casualties?” he hears someone ask, but he’s too busy trying to fight off the itch, rubbing his nostrils with his knuckles, to perceive who asked. 

“Still unclear… 300 confirmed so far. Could be more,” Fury answers seriously. “We’ll hopefully have exact numbers once the city’s cleared.”

Steve tries to focus, he really does, but the tickle is growing stronger and his breath starts catching in small, desperate gasps. He turns to stifle a quick double into his shoulder, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to him. 

“hehNGXTt! hii’YINgch!”

Bucky could recognize that withheld sound anywhere, but he knows Steve wouldn’t want everyone’s eyes staring at him so he refrains from blessing him. Natasha, who everyone knows is extremely observant, also seems to notice as she eyes Steve when his body jerks slightly. She catches Bucky’s eyes as they’re both watch their miserable friend, and the look they share doesn’t need any words. 

Steve doesn’t even get a chance to breathe before the tingling sensation comes back, more powerful than before, and Steve knows it’s a loosing battle.

“huh- HhhehISHhoo!”

As expected, the group turns to look at him and mumbles a chorus of blessings.

“Bless ya,” he hears Bucky mumble quietly, and Clint offers a gesundheit, which seems to be his standard reaction to anyone who sneezes. Natasha discretely reaches for a tissue, presses it into his hands under the table and nods demandingly at it. 

As he subtly wipes his nose with it, it seems to bring the tickle back and Steve cups his face and lets the sneezes slip out.

“h’tSCHHoo! Hih! Eh’hrushhoo!”

He sighs defeatedly and nods his thanks when a few people bless him. 

Tony, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, narrows his eyes at Steve. He’s spent the better half of the debrief doing anything but pay attention to what Fury was saying, impatiently waiting for the meeting to finish. Noticing Steve’s bleary eyes and his pink nostrils, Tony figures Steve wants Fury to shut up even more than he does, which in itself in an accomplishment. 

As if Tony looking at him makes Steve’s nose twitch, Steve’s eyes flutter and his nose scrunches up. 

“tishh! ehhIIiishh’oo! heihhUushiew!” The fit is ticklish, makes his throat scratchy and Steve can feel the congestion pressing behind his eyes and sinuses. 

Tony is now on the verge of snapping, telling Fury to shut it and round up so Steve doesn’t have to suffer any more than he already is. The guy seriously needs something to help him breathe. Tony wonders if Claritin is strong enough or if he’s going to have to spend the entire night figuring out some kind of super-soldier-allergy-shot, because he just couldn’t take another look at Steve literally sneezing his brains out. So he figures he has to stop Fury before Steve’s going to die on them. Well, dying might be an exaggeration, but judging from Steve’s expression it’s not too far off. (If anyone asks, though, it’s because Steve’s constant sniffling is annoying as hell, but in reality, Tony can’t help but feel sympathetic for his friend. Nobody can know that. Tony doesn’t do sympathy.)

He considers making JARVIS send out some sort of emergency alarm to stop the meeting, but he figures getting on Fury’s wrong side is a bad call, so he bites tongue, and impressively so. He is Tony Stark, after all, and he’s not exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. Especially when he should. But this time, he does. He makes a mental note to tell that to Pepper. She would be so proud. 

***

When the debrief is finally over, Steve is half asleep, his head resting on his hand. The ten minutes of nearly  constant sniffling and sneezing in the middle of the meeting exhausted him deeply, even his nose seemed too tired to itch anymore.

He doesn’t even recall the debrief ending before Bucky nudges him and he jerks awake, sitting up straight. People are shuffling out of the room as he blinks the confusion away. 

Nat and Bucky are already standing up when he’s back to consciousness, both smiling solicitously at him. 

“You really should be going to bed, punk,” Bucky frowns a little and Steve responds with a shrug.

“I might actually agree with Barnes on this one. You look wiped out. I think you’ve earned some well deserved rest after today, soldier,” Natasha winks kindly. 

“Yeah, well, you tell Fury that,” Steve sighs. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, though. I’ll be going straight to sleep when I’m finished.” 

Natasha playfully ruffles his hair, Bucky gives him an affectionate pat on the arm, and with that, the two of them flees the room. 

Steve still hasn’t raised himself from the chair. His body feels heavy and drained, and for once, he might actually consider procrastinate going to the meeting. Pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut, he takes another moment to mentally prepare dealing with Fury, once again. 

“You getting attached to the chair there, Rudolph?” Tony teases with a perky smile as he walks towards Steve, who is surprised by the sudden voice. He hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess so,” he chuckles lightly. “I have to be somewhere I definitely don’t want to be.”

“Meeting?”

Steve nods despairingly and Tony clicks his tongue.

“That sucks… You sound like someone who needs some time to relax. And to find some medicine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. I mean, God, you’re pathetic,” Tony jokes and the corners of Steve’s mouth quirk upwards. 

“You probably haven’t. I can’t even remember the laahhst time I-I snf! felt like thiiihs. Huhh- huEEIishh’oo!” Steve says through hitchy breaths and rushes to finish the sentence before catching a quick single in the tissue he still has in his hand.

“Bless you.”

“Tha- thaahuhISHH! Sorry, thanks,” he snuffled into the crumpled piece of fabric. “h’ESHhihh! Oh, Lord have mercy on me.”

Tony hands him a fresh tissue and Steve gratefully accepts it, giving a quick, ineffective blow. By this point, he’s basically unable to breathe through his nose, but he doesn’t want to gross Tony out any more than he already is. 

Tony, however, doesn’t seem to mind. “Damn, Rogers, you’re on a roll, huh? Look. I can probably pull a few strings, get you out of whatever torture they’re sending you into.”

“Are you- really?” 

“Sure,” Tony shrugs.

“That- that would actually be really nice,” Steve admits shyly. He’s normally not one to ask for help, but Lord knows he needs it right now. “I owe you one.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Tony waves a hand. “You’ll just have to make me breakfast for the next three months, get me coffee whenever I want, babysit Clint-“

Steve laughs and elbows him.

“No, really. It’s nothing, Cap,” he says as he stands up and offers Steve a hand, which the soldier grabs and pulls himself to his feet. They exit the room together walking towards the elevator. 

“Do you normally sneeze this much, by the way? I mean, you’ve probably sneezed, like, 30 times in he last hour.”

“huUShh’oo! Uhh, I-I don’t think so. I gue-. Tony?” Steve interrupts himself as Tony stopped in his tracks.

“That was so weird. Did you just sneeze on command. Like, literally just as I said the word?”

“I think there’s just a pretty good chance of me sneezing at any second, Tony.” He chuckles and shakes his head fondly.

Tony follows up and the two of them walk in silence until they reach the elevator. 

“So. You go take a shower, and I’ll see to get you some meds after talking to Fury… If I’m not there in an hour or less, send out a search team, just in case Fury actually kills me,” Tony jokes.

Steve smiles tiredly at Tony as he presses the ‘up’  button on the elevator. “Thanks again, Tony. I really appreciate it.”

***

“Stark!”

Tony sighs at the sound of the recognizable voice and turns on his heels. He had to face it sooner or later.

“Nick! Always a pleasure,” Tony smiles overly wide at Fury, who rolls his eyes over someone using his first name, but ultimately decides to ignore it. It’s been a long day already, and Fury is not in the mood to deal with Tony and his sharp-witted tongue right now.

“Where’s Rogers?”

“Rogers? You mean Steve? Oh, um about that… He’s in his room,” Tony says innocently. 

“In his—? I hope he’s aware of the fact that we’re having a meeting in less than five minutes?” Fury cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so… He’s not going to be there. Sorry. He’s having some… trouble. You know, you saw him at debrief, I don’t think he’d be able to—“ 

“God damnit, Rogers,” Fury mutters under his breath, then scowls. “I’ll let this one slide. But only this once. It’s been a long day, anyways.”

Huh. That went a lot smoother than Tony had anticipated. Fury actually wasn’t completely heartless.

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Good talk, Director,” Tony claps Fury on the shoulder and is immediately out. As he walks, he gives his body a shake. He seriously hated biting his tongue, acting nice and actively trying to avoid pissing anyone off, and even a five sentence conversation with Fury was a stretch, but he thinks he did okay, all things considered. He makes another mental note to tell that to Pepper as well. She’d be even prouder. 

***

“Knock knock.” Tony calls. “Cap?”

“In heeh-here! Hur’ESHH!”

Strolling towards the bedroom where the response came from, Tony tries to balance all the remedies he’d picked up on his way. The door in ajar, and Tony pushes it open with his shoulder, both hands and arms occupied. As soon as he enters the room, he suddenly drops about half of the things he’d been carrying on the floor.

In front of him stands Steve. His hair is damp from the shower and falling into his eyes. He’s wearing a pair of oversized joggers that would look ridiculous if they were worn by anyone but Steve. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat from the shower and his nose a similar shade but probably for entirely different reason. That, and he’s not wearing a shirt. 

He’s not wearing a shirt, Tony repeats in his mind. Damn. Tony has seen Steve shirtless before, but this is usually after a battle when Steve’s covered in blood and sweat, and definitely not coming straight out of a warm shower with glowing and clean skin.

And then he realizes that he’d just dropped everything on the floor and bends down to start picking the things up. “Would it have hurt to put on a shirt?” Tony mumbles lowly.

“Sorry, I was just getting dressed,” Steve smiles sheepishly as he helps Tony fetch the things. “You really went to town with the remedies, huh?” 

Tony shrugs. “You know me. Why choose one when you can have them all?”

“Because it’s unnecessary?” Steve teases. “Seriously, though, the tissues had been just fine.”

“Ugh, are you always this unappreciative? God, how rude of you, Rogers.”

Steve laughs and shakes his head fondly. “That’s not what I meant. I really do appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have gone out of your way to all get this.”

“Aaand he’s back to being good, old, righteous Captain America… should have known. I didn’t, by the way. I ran into Nat and Barnes. They were on their way to provide you with all of these different supplies and medicines. If I’m being honest, which, obviously, I always am, I don’t even know what half of these things are.”

“Probably won’t work on me anyways. Medicine usually doesn’t with my metabolism,” Steve says as he reaches for the box of tissues Tony had dropped. 

“Hm… You seem better, though?” Tony asks and Steve nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I think the shower did me good. I was probably covered in whatever is bothering m-me, huh— huhhISH’iew! Maybe not entirely, though” Steve comments after a sudden, strong sneeze crept up on him.

With a wry smile, Tony stands up and puts the stuff on Steve’s bedside table. He turns on the night light as Steve grabs the shirt he had laid out on the bed and pulls it over his head. 

“So.” 

“So,” Steve echoes.

“I’ll get going, and you, big guy, are heading straight to sleep,” Tony commands, eyeing the perfectly made bed, because of course Steve’s bed would be flawlessly made. Everything just has to be in order when it comes to Steve. He really is a hundred years old, Tony thinks. 

Steve chuckles and obeys, his bare feet making soft and quiet noises as he pads across the hard wood floor.

“Yessir,” Steve says, shuffling to get under the duvet. “Oh, and thanks again, Tony.”

“That’s what friends are for. See you tomorrow, Winghead,” Tony smiles and shuts off the ceiling light. The bedside lamp illuminates Steve’s face with golden beams. His expression is tired and gentle and thankful.

“See you tomorrow, Shellhead,” Steve returns. 

And with that, Tony closes the door to Steve’s bedroom. He stays outside for a few seconds until the weak light that shines through the key hole goes out and smiles satisfied.

***

[a-lame-follower]

Prompt: Double-Date Pairings: Glimmadora, Entrapdak WARNING: Bad writing. (Hey, at least I'm honest)

If they lived through this, Glimmer mused to herself as she shifted the basket from one arm to the other, she was going to seriously consider outlawing puppy dog eyes. To some that might seem drastic, but She had proven far too susceptible to its influence in the past. This situation was just one layer of icing on a multi-tiered cake made with bad decisions and baked in regret.

"I don't know how she convinced me this was a good idea." She said, more to herself than to her companion. "It's not like Hordak ever shown any inclination or desire to connect with others before...right?"

She let her words trail off into a question. For all the negative influence the man had previously had over her life, she couldn't say that she actually knew him personally, not really. Before the planetary bioweapon snafu, the catastrophic mess that was Horde Prime, and before whatever it was that was going on between him and Entrapta, it had been simple. All she'd needed to know was that he'd murdered her father and was a threat to the peace of Eternia. Now, with her father suddenly back from the grave and Hordak relinquishing his title as number one big scary warlord, she didn't know what to think anymore. Well, she thought she'd like to go back to the good old days where things made sense. Back then, all she’d had to do was attack people who attacked her. Inconveniently, that option was no longer available for her. For whatever reason, the fates had decided she had to be "mature" now. Fate could go throw itself off a cliff.

"No, you're right," Adora said, holding a basket of her own. Her voice was a little too cheerful to be genuine. "Hordak has all the charming sociability of a rock."

"Are you sure that's not unfair to the rock?" Glimmer said, smiling and reaching out her free hand to let her partner know she valued her company. Adora seemed grateful for the gesture and clasped the young Queen's hand in her own.

"I stand corrected. " the blonde said after that momentary pause. "I guess I owe the rocks an apology.'

"You could. " she agreed, "But then you'd spend the rest of your life apologizing." She sighed dramatically. "We'd probably never have the time to be alone together again. "

"I can do both!" The taller of that two women objected, before smiling to show she knew she was merely being teased. "But, I guess that is a lot of rocks." She acknowledged sheepishly, those sweet blue eyes meeting hers. "Promise not to tell on me?"

"It'll be our little secret." Glimmer assured before filling the distance between them, standing up on her too toes to capture Adora's lips. Smiling fondly down at the young Queen’s actions, Adora leaned in closer, silently encouraging her partner to seal their pact with a kiss. She felt those gentle lips gently press against her own when-

"They apologize to rocks." A voice growled, practically dripping with condescending disbelief. "How is it that my soldiers have not defeated you?"

-They were rudely interrupted by the arrival of the two people they had been waiting for in the first place. Adora grew rigid, dropping her basket and raising the sword she had used since she'd shattered her old one. Releasing Glimmer’s hand, her body settled into fighting stance, partially sheilding Glimmer from the man’s sight. She might have attacked if Glimmer hadn’t taken that moment to gently stroke her warrior’s arm to settle her. It would help no one if they acted rashly. The princess frowned, clearly uncomfortable in the former warlord's presence.

"Hello, Hordak." Glimmer said with a peace so artificial she knew it fooled no one. She could control the wince that twisted her face as those unnaturally bright red eyes settled on her. She was acutely aware that Adora still hadn't lowered her weapon.

"No, no!" A nasal voice chirped cheerfully. "Obviously, they don't make a habit out of apologizing to just any naturally occurring solid mass or aggregate of minerals or mineraloid matter!" She moved closer to them, using her long purple pigtails to give her additional height."Otherwise, Adora would have already known the sheer magnitude of the assignment she was setting for herself and wouldn't have needed Glimmer to convince her it was a fool's errand." She hummed after a second of stillness, her gaze turning thoughtful. "Though I'm sure you both would have an excellent time spelunking in the caves beneath Bright Moon together." She clapped her hands enthusiastically. "I know I've enjoyed allmost all of my visits to Dryl's mines!"

"It's great to see you, Entrapta." Glimmer said, biting her lip. "I'll keep your idea in mind, but I'm pretty sure my dad would disapprove if I went spelunking on sacred ground with my girlfriend."

"That hardly seems fair." Entrants frowned at her. "Speleology and the geosciences are fascinating; " she waved her arms in palpable enthusiasm. "For all we know, your father could be hindering some marvel of scientific progress!"

Wary of saying something that might result in further association with the fright zone's former despot(like almost volunteering to go on a trip with Entrapta to visit said mines), Glimmer paused. Unsure where she she should take the conversation she looked to Adora for assistance. Instead, she found her lady locked in a staredown with the smirking pointy eared-eared goblin man himself. Apparently Hordak had no intention of making this easier on anyone else so it would be up to them to be obliging in addition to well-mannered.  She sighed deeply through her nose. Then she reached out to touch her protector's arm, tentatively advancing on her as one might approach an injured stable cat.

Sensing her movement, those stunning blue eyes sought her gaze and, after an instant's hesitancy, permitted the touch. Adora was stiff, but she'd expected that from her. This was harder on Adora than it was on her, after all.

He might not have been directly involved in the appalling treatment Adora had suffered during her time in the Horde. However, Hordak had been the Horde's leader on Eternia. As such, he still represented some of the worst it had to offer. What that might entail she was still learn at. Most were quiet things she could only guess at from cryptic words and dark hints left like breadcrumbs leading to a witch's cottage. Still, Adora had voluntarily offered to tag along when Glimmer had told her that Entrapta had somehow managed to wrangle the young Queen into going on an evening picnic with Hordak. She hadn't been required to accompany her, but she'd done it anyway. Her selflessness was just another reason among many to love her.

However, she thought as she brought her hand out to touch the sword, if they were going to be playing nice with Hordak, it was a little counterproductive to have their weaponry drawn and ready for the slaughtering.

It took a second or two, but upon getting the intended message from the smaller woman’s weighted stare, a pout formed on the other girl's adorable little face. It took every inch of Glimmer’s free will not to giggle at the presence of She Ra's greatest weapon.

Fortuitously, Adora understood the value of civility in potentially explosive situations such as this and sheathed the sword before Glimmer's free will could shatter like fine china in the face of her onslaught. Still, it was a very near thing. She couldn't even muster up the composure left to resist the urge to reach up and tousle Adora's fluffy hair. She received a dirty look under thoroughly rumpled bangs as a reward for her wicked act of treachery. Regrettably, she found it endearing rather than chastising, so she let out a mischievous little chuckle that earned a small forgiving smile from her girlfriend and questioning glances from their audience.

"Do you think they've forgotten we're here?" Entrapta asked the man standing beside her in a stage whisper. "I wouldn't normally question it, but they've been silent for several minutes and keep making strange faces at each other."

"They are still quite young," Hordak answered, voice drier than the crimson wastes at high noon. "I wouldn't be surprised in the least to discover they still struggle with object permanence."

" 'They' are very aware of your presence and would prefer you not speak to them like they are children," Adora grumbled, pointedly ignoring the scoff her statement received.

"As you say."

"Anyway." Glimmer said clapping her hands together with a pointed cough. "You wanted us to join you, Entrapta?" She hoped it wasn’t obvious to anyone else how hard she was struggling to regain control of the situation before one of the more volatile members of their party said something that set the other off. If they broke ties with one another she wanted it to be for a good reason. Bombing out of polite conversation 101 was not the droids she was looking for.

"Yes!" said a grinning Entrapta. Minutes before, the older woman had been growing visibly anxious at the heightening tensions she'd inadvertently played a part in inciting. At her name, her face had broadened with her good cheer, making no attempts to disguise her delight for the possible distraction. "Well, I was talking to Hordak the other day while we were recalibrating the base's underwater thermometers after feeding the fish when I learned that he's never been on a picnic before, and-"

"Wait, so he just suddenly decided he wanted to go on one?" Adora asked, confused. “I’ve had picnics described to me before and they always sounded way less enjoyable than they actually are.”

“Um...well, I can’t speak for what you’ve heard as I wasn’t there to witness it.”  Entrapta said, eyebrows furrowing as she stared at her hands rather than make eye-contact. “ But I can say there are numerous benefits to going on a picnic.” She smiled at Adora. “If you’d like I can show you the power point presentation I made for him later.”

Glimmer stared at the former tyrant incredulously, trying and failing to think of how that might come up in conversation between the two. Or how she’d managed to sit someone like Hordak down to a lecture. Or what kind of fish lived in the fright zone. That led to wondering what fish they kept and what they might feed them, before she stopped her mind from wandering in what was very likely a dangerous area. For however long they were to be temporary allies, some things she just didn’t want to know.

"She is very persuasive." He admitted, giving his partner a side-eye, which was met with an encouragingly grin that was nearly blinding in its warmth. Part of Glimer wondered if she was only imagining what appeared to be a subtle flush of heat settling around his ears. Hordak’s eyes glanced quickly from Entrapta to Glimmer then back again. His face grew more determined, as if daring the Queen to laugh.

"I can be that, yeah." she said softly before perking up. “Especially when the data speaks for itself!”

His thin lips upturned, cautiously returning the look she had sent his way. It was a small action, but still, Glimmer had to avert her eyes to avoid letting them witness her second-hand embarrassment. Was this how kids felt when their siblings flirted with people in public? She glanced at Adora and was thankful to know she wasn't the only one feeling discomfited by this. She was not looking forward to when Frosta began considering the possibility of making potential romantic connections.

'Anyway! " Entrapta continued, oblivious to their distress. "I couldn't let that stand when the solution was so readily available." She gave them a meaningful look.

"So you...thought of us? " Adora asked, her confusion obvious.

"Well, not you specifically," Entrapta corrected with a shrug, then grimaced when her friend visibly deflated. "But I am very glad to see you here Adora!"

"That's... That's good to know Entrapta."

"I thought Bow and Glimmer would be the best people to ask since they have prior experience with acquainting and Horde soldiers with everyday civilian activities. " She turned her head to the side, briefly concealing her face with her mask and turning her body away from them. "Well, I tried to ask Bow, but er, his parents got to the line first, and... let's just say they don't approve of Bow talking to Hordak. "

Entrapta drooped further, almost seeming to shrink before their eyes, neither girl knew how to respond to the usually cheerful scientist's change of demeanor. Glimmer doubted they had said anything against Entrapta; they were both caring, empathetic men the universe was better off having. Still, she wouldn't be surprised if they had tried to warn her to stay away from Hordak. Maybe it was a little hypocritical considering where she was and whom she was meeting but She knew she would certainly have banned any child of hers from associating with people who were friends with war criminals. Those two were kinder than she was by far and any hurt feelings were doubtlessly done on accident. But that still meant there were hurts in need of mending. After everything those two had been through, emotions ran deep. She made a mental note to ask Bow about what had happened later.

Talking about what had happened had seemed to take the wind out of Entrapta's figurative sails, and it wasn't until Hordak had marched forward and almost tenderly pushed her against his chest that Entrapta seemed to pull herself together. Glimmer might have been inclined to call what he was doing a hug, had the red eyes not promised death to everything she held dear if she so much as whispered that he might be capable of sentimental feeling.

One day she going to discover his secret to making common actions seem threatening and use that dark talent for something constructive.

"Anyway, with Bow out of the picture that left Glimmer." The Queen wondered if she should be offended that she was the second choice but reasoned that out of the two of them, Entrapta had probably connected with Bow better than herself.

"Thankfully, her dad was out when I called, so I didn't have to worry about protective parenting instincts making things all needlessly confusing." She smiled at Glimmer, unspoken gratitude shining in her eyes. She took a moment to lament the fact that she was being made to feel guilty for second-guessing this trip when the person doing it had no idea she was even doing.

"I'd have taken him by myself, but, well," She could no longer meet their gazes, and seemed content instead to make herself a permanent fixture to Hordak's tunic. "I haven't been on a picnic with people who aren't... y'know... a robot in years, and I wanted to make sure his first time was his best time, so to speak."

"I didn't know who else to turn to, and I acknowledge this request is a lot to ask of you, but..." Her voice was so low, they had to strain their ears to hear her. "I hope it's okay that I asked you to come?"

Silence reigned on both sides as she finished talking. Hordak was glaring at them, commanding them without words to consent to whatever Entrapta asked. Glimmer rolled her eyes at the clone to let him know that his intimidations, impressive as his figure might be, neither frightened her not influenced her decision-making in the slightest. A grunt of what could have been either irritation or amusement was her only response.

Having attempted to assert herself, she decided to put the man out of her mind for now. She was here for Entrapta, not him. Despite their complicated history, they shared a bond.

But... She wasn't the only one who mattered. She stretched out her arm to get Adora's attention. Her partner sent a questioning glance towards Glimmer then went back to watching the scientist with no small amount of concern.

"Are you sure about being here?" Glimmer asked, speaking quietly to ensure they weren't overheard. "She doesn't need both of us. "

"Where you go, so do I," Adora swore, face inscrutable as she grabbed the hand she'd released upon the arrival of the second half of their group.

"I can choose not to do this then." Glimmer said, lowering her eyes to their now connected hands. This was a terrible judgment to make, but she knew that if she was forced to choose, she'd pick Adora over Entrapta. She was her partner. Awful as it might make her feel, her companion's trauma came first. "I don't want you doing anything that will hurt you, Adora."

"You forget something," Adora said in a voice so low she nearly missed it. "Entrapta's my friend too."

Glimmer froze then raised her head to meet Adora's challenging stare. The blonde narrowed her eyes in the face of her companion's reluctance and nodded. The young Queen smiled at the further confirmation of the woman's courage. They might have more than a few reservations about associating with Hordak in any fashion, but they wanted to be there to support their friend where they could.

"We'd be honored to share this meal with you. "

Entrapta's shriek of happiness could have shattered glass.

She wasn't entirely sure, but as their friend began eagerly showing them a neatly catagorized list of all the food she'd had her servants prepare for the evening's events, she thought she might have caught a glimpse of what may have even been gratitude on Hordak's face. Whatever it had been was expertly hidden behind a deliberately neutral mask when she turned around to check.

[iwroteinapastlife]

Family

Oof this one was super hard to write, but I think I finally got there. Here’s day 27 of @mlrarepairmonth with more of that sweet sweet Brelix (continuing from day 24).

Day 27: Family

Ship: Bridgette x Félix

Twenty-six letters combined in millions of variations. Those combinations combined in millions more. Every combination of letters has its own meaning and, added to others, sends its own message, but at the end of the day, that’s all they are. Letters. Letters printed in ink on paper.

To Félix’s eyes that day, that’s all they were. Letters. Inconsequential shapes that he looked at but did not see as his mind remained lost in memory. Memory of green eyes looking up at him from beneath golden hair. Of a boy heavier than he remembered clutched tightly in leather clad arms.

A paper coffee cup appeared in front of him, set down gently by the figure now putting her feet on the bench next to him and taking a seat on the picnic table itself. Not closing his book, Félix looked up to where Bridgette smiled amicably, then to the cup in front of him. The paper tag at the end of the string hanging from the lid read Earl Grey.

He really wasn’t surprised she somehow knew his preferred tea.

Félix opened his mouth to tell her to go away, but she spoke before he could. “I know you’ve been avoiding me again. I don’t know why, but that’s your decision and I’ll respect it.”

“Then—,”

“Except for right now when you clearly need someone to talk to.”

Her expression was calm, gentle, but resolute—not to be budged—and it held all the kindness he didn’t deserve.

“I’m fine, Bridgette,” he said rigidly.

She gave him a sad sort of smile—an understanding smile—and he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t just hate him for his rudeness already. It worked on everyone else; why did she have to be so…her?

“You’ve been on that page for fifteen minutes.” He averted his gaze. If he was being honest, he didn’t even remember what the chapter was about. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bridgette take a sip from her own cup—her tag read Apple Spice. “I heard your brother got attacked last night,” she said softly. “Does it have to do with that?”

A voice slightly deeper than he remembered screaming for help.

“He’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Félix looked up again and felt guilt stir in his chest as he was met with patient blue eyes. Too good.

He looked back at his book. He couldn’t even remember what it was about at this point.

Sighing in resignation, he closed the book and pushed it aside. The cup of tea felt warm in his hands. He let it thaw his frigid touch a few moments before finally, in a voice just above a whisper, he spoke aloud the words that had echoed through his mind since last night.

“It’s my fault.”

“How so?”

Leaving the house earlier than usual. Crossing paths unexpectedly. A bright smile catching him before it was too late. A 13-year-old boy running across the room. A frame taller than he remembered ensnaring him in a hug. Warm. Too warm not to hug him back.

A bodyguard akumatized later that day.

“Bad luck,” he finally muttered.

A cold breeze brushed past them. Félix raised the cup to his lips and took a sip, taking comfort in the warmth and familiarity of Earl Grey. At his side, Bridgette took another sip of her Apple Spice as she seemed to consider his words.

“That’s why you’re avoiding me again, isn’t it?”

An energy blast hurtling straight toward Bridgette Cheng. Just barely blocking it in time.

Félix nodded.

“You space yourself from everyone, don’t you?” she asked gently. “Even him.” He nodded and took another sip. “Do you talk to…anyone?”

He didn’t answer, hard gaze trained on the school courtyard, looking but not seeing. She seemed to accept that, falling silent and taking a sip of her drink. A few moments passed like that, both sitting in easy stillness, taking intermittent drinks to stay warm in the early February air. The sky was deceptively clear that day. The sunlight could only offer fleeting caresses of heat before it was brushed away by the wind. Still, it was nicer than it had been lately. A glimpse of the spring to come.

“Well,” Bridgette finally said, her normal energy slipping back into her voice, “I don’t think you’re bad luck.” Félix looked up again and opened his mouth to argue, but she didn’t give him the chance. “But even if you are,” she continued, setting those heart stopping blue eyes on him again, “it doesn’t matter. No one deserves solitude like that.”

He had nothing to say to that. Despite what his guilt might scream at him, he knew objectively speaking that he didn’t deserve this.

“Besides,” she shrugged, staring at the cup in her hands. “I’ve been told I’m good luck. So if you’re going to keep avoiding me, you’re going to need to come up with a new excuse.”

Then that kind, caring smile was turned to him again, sunlight glittering in those ever compassionate eyes, and he could feel the winter chill slip away.

He could drown in that blue.

Worse though, if he did, he was pretty sure he would choose to swim again.

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (December 18th, 2018)

Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game!

Update: 12/18/18 - PC 1.48.90.1020 / Mac 1.48.90.1220

Hey Simmers!

It’s cold out there… wait, that’s a Groundhog Day intro. Also, it’s pretty “northern” stereotypical… my apologies. So, it’s a month out there in which some experience a cold season at this time of the cycle in which we revolve (or not) around the glowing ball in the sky, and in which festivities may or may not be observed, and others experience a warmer season, in which similar, or non-similar observances may be made. And I wish you an emotional response relevant to your desire.

With that said…

What’s New?

We have added MORE to the Holiday Pack!

More home things…

Some new light sources!

2×1 Ceiling light

Mason jar candles

A log display… with candles

Some new decoratives!

Ceiling snowflake décor

Mason jar décor

Bough wall hanging

Wood carving wall hanging

A fireplace façade (for decorative purposes only)

A new Picnic table

And more clothing things…

A sweater top for kids

A female full body outfit

Female pants

A female hair

A male sweater

A male hair

Slippers for male and female

Yeti costume, unless you choose brown, then it’s a Bigfoot costume

Not that I’ve ever seen Bigfoot…

And I apologize if you are a Big Foot who happens to play The Sims. Hopefully you see a resemblance.

All Holiday pack objects can be found easily in the catalog by using the Holiday Pack filter, in the filter sort options.

Remember, if you have not yet downloaded the Holiday Pack, click on the Holiday Pack icon from the Main Menu! And if you have already downloaded the pack previously, you don’t need to do anything, you have the updates now!

…assuming you are reading this after you launched The Sims, and finished downloading the update. If not, then you have them then!

In addition to the Holiday content, there are few other new bits…

A female hoodie, sweater, and crop top are new in Create a Sim

Two new recipes for your Sims to cook

Winter Cake

Crown Roast

And the Lin-Z Smart Speaker!

Play music, order a pizza, play trivia, be yelled at… all with the touch of… with the call of the wild… with just a…

You have to just talk to it. Your Sim talks to It.

Please don’t start talking to your computer.

Make friends with your new AI overlord and learn its secrets! Or don’t. It’ll remember

But if you already do, that’s ok, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just don’t name your computer Shodan.

First person camera smoothing updates. We got some feedback about the mode being a bit sickness-inducing (especially if you watch the announce stream and saw the Sim on the swing… or the rock clim… ahm, ur okay, I’m… let’s move on).

“Roll” has been disabled in First Person Camera mode when you are using the Sims 4 camera settings (you can find your chosen option in the Camera Controls menu in the upper right corner of the screen). Roll is essentially side to side movement along a curve, and the primary motivator of discomfort.

If you are a Sims 3 Camera user, and you want the smoother camera, you can use the cheat “camera.fpc.simple on” to switch to Sims 4 camera while in First Person Camera mode. And of course, to turn it off “camera.fpc.simple off”.

In addition players can use the cheat “camera.fpc.smoothing off/low/medium/high” to fine-tune their experience.

That’s that for the new, on to the old.

General Issues

The tutorial has been updated with some new tips in order to assist our new players with the basics of playing The Sims!

Style Influencer stay at home tasks now register as complete, when completed.

You can now hire a gardener if you have plants on your lot for your gardener to garden, regardless of your garden’s gardening needs.

Previously, if your garden was not in need, you were being incorrectly informed that you didn’t have a garden.

The brick01GEN wall pattern has a new name.

Teen interaction Mess Around should no longer duplicate itself in the interaction menu for each target location for said mess around.

Townie Sims are no longer glaring at each other as they pass by on the streets.

Sims have taken social etiquette classes, and now understand that one does not need to constantly mix drinks when hosting a party.

Does the concept of the entire Sims populace taking classes in social etiquette give you an Orwellian chill?

The tutorial's chef aspiration no longer starts your Sim with the Snob, Foodie, and Glutton traits, but instead the Slob, Perfectionist, and Foodie traits.

The former due to a text error.

The later due to the two being incompatible.

First Person Camera will no longer show the inside of the Sim's head when using Intel Integrated Graphics.

I told my mom that, she called my grandma, and said she was worried about me.

Ceilings should no longer look darkened, but instead lighting should be more prevalent in comparison to the location of lights in a room.

The Gardener Career now provides raises when the profession is maxed.

The With Pets, Dogs, or Cats Gallery filter now works, and will no longer break your other filters from functioning.

Z/X and -/+ shortcut keys will now adjust FOV in first person camera mode.

Exiting first person camera will no longer cause a Sims head to become stuck facing one direction.

Many others however are still stuck facing One Direction.

If you have enough traits to fill the Simology panel beyond the window height allowed by your monitors resolution, you will no longer find yourself unable to interact with the Simology panel.

Also, your Sim is amazingly complex.

Non-specific pack issue

Randomly generated neighborhood Sims should no longer shop exclusively within the City Living and Vampires Create-a-Sim catalogs, and are more likely to have expanded their clothing opportunities to all packs you have available for them.

Cats & Dogs

Cats will no longer become stuck on top of surfaces after being lectured about jumping on surfaces.

Cat Whiskers now appear with the proper color relevant to the color chosen in Create-a-Sim.

Seasons

Setting the thermostat to cold when it’s hot out, or hot when it’s cold out, will no longer add a 1.5-5x modifier to your bills.

Get Famous

Take Selfie interaction will now help relieve the Separation Anxiety tense buff that is a result of the Phone Fanatic quirk.

The More Views Video Station can now be cloned with the Eyedropper tool.

Sleeping Pod interaction Less Needy Dreams, has been changed to Social Dreams.

The More Views Video Station memory upgrade tooltip will no longer lie to you.

The Drama King buff received from watching a Sim perform the Perform Dramatic Monologue interaction will now tell you that it is from watching a Sim perform the Perform Dramatic Monologue interaction.

Moving an in use Music Production Station will no longer cause the music to become stuck on.

The Lifestyle Brand interaction now works.

Celebrity Sims set to the normal walk style, should now maintain their walk style setting.

Married celebrity Sims will no longer react in disgust towards one another.

In case you wanted more More Views.

Unless there is reason to.

Like cutting your toenails in bed.

I mean, who does that?!

Spa Day

Sims giving a hand massage, will no longer contort in an excruciatingly painful manner during the massage.

Vampires

The Parts to Copy filter, for vampires in Create-a-Sim, should now actually show what parts you can copy.

Parenthood

REJOICE! Children can once again play on the monkey bars without the compelling need to halt their monkey bar activities to make a mess. Yes, that’s right Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Player, children are free! Free to play! Free to climb, swing, and do whatever it is that children do on the monkey bars. The draw, the compulsion, the absolute need to end their activity to make a mess has finally come to a close. So rejoice! And let your kids climb, until they can climb no more.

Ok, let’s see, it’s been awhile since I’ve done this, so let me just go through my checklist.

Greeting, uh yep, check.

The What’s New section, check.

Various issue commentary, unnecessary expository, overuse of ellipses, random grammar atrocities, run on sentences…, check, check, and… um, check.

References to old and outdated entertainment media, check.

Sign off, and holiday wishes, not yet, but shortly.

Looks like everything is good to go!

Happy Holidays!

-SimGuruGnome

[fullmetaldevil-blog]

Batim Stitched AU Ch.6

Ok this one took quite a bit to work out, but nevertheless I hope you all enjoy the AU thus far and I will warn you, there may be a part or two that might be viewed as 'offensive' do keep in mind that some of the descriptions are period correct but followed loosely. The other part might be a bit graphic (depending on how squeamish you are) but for the most part kept PG13.

Now on with the show~

Ch. 6 A little light Went Out.

Silence was the only bed fellow of the studio and the facility had yet to wake and open it's arms to welcome it's staff to start the day's operations, yet a lone figure drifted within it's sleeping halls coming to a stop at one it's many hall way doors. The person jiggled the handle to the doorway several times growing frustrated that the room had been locked and disturbed a sleeping occupant within.

Benny looked up from his crate to hear the jiggling of the handle to the room, but it didn't sound like the normal sounds of Allison or Norman opening up the door upon arriving. The way the door knob violently shock and rattled sounded like whomever was outside was struggling with the key. With a small hope that Tom had returned, Benny gingerly hopped back up on top of the desk and laid against the wall keeping a hopeful watch on the wall, his grin wide. He truly hoped that Tom simply forgot that he was supposed to bring him home yesterday and had returned in the morning to fetch him. Benny quickly gave himself a once over making sure he looked his best before he resumed his watch on the door.  His smile faded and was replaced with confusion when the jiggling on the handle continued for quite sometime, it shouldn't take this long to open a door. Right?  His face morphed into one of anger when he heard a feminine voice uttering small curses as she struggled with the door. This wasn't Alison, it sounded like that woman Susie that Norman had warned him about. He slipped off the desk and quietly crossed the room to a corner hiding within the shadow of the shelving out of the doors line of sight.  Small growls escaped the toon, he didn't like this woman at all, and if he needed to he would defend himself. The stitching on his stomach slowly came undone as small white protrusions lined the rim resembling small teeth and the void opened slightly. His teeth took on a slight triangular appearance and the tips of his gloved hands had small protrusions on the ends resembling small claws. This was not his angel.

Susie cursed her rotten luck that Allison locked her dressing room, figures that the woman would lock a room that she felt didn't belong to her. Frustrated at the inability to open the door she wandered down the hall towards Wally's janitorial closet. The man always had random junk stashed in his closet and despite his large ring of keys he could never seem to lock his own closet. She tested the closets door nob and to her pleasure it was unlocked. She gingerly opened the door and dug around the closet till she found a fireman's ax, not sure what the man needed it for but it would suit her needs just fine. With weapon in hand she nearly skipped with glee back to Allison's dressing room. 'Oh I'm gonna love this' Susie chuckled to herself as she gently ran her fingers along the edge of the tools blade with tender love. She raised the weapon high above her head and brought it down harshly upon the the base of the door's handle.

The rattling of the door had fallen silent for a time and Benny hoped that the woman had given up and gone home, but that hope was dashed by a loud banging against the door. She was trying to break in! Benny scooted back further into the corner within the shadows preparing to pounce if he needed to. This was his room that belonged to Allison, not this woman. He stilled as he listened to the door cry from the blows being done to it and heard fragments of it break away. He didn't have to wait long as the door let out a crack for the last time and slowly swung open. Benny's bravado instantly died and was replaced by  fear by her silhouette. The woman stood within the doorway with the dull yellow light behind her, now why she herself wasn't particularly frightening it was her weapon of choice that glistened in the dull light. An ax.  The toon made a small whisper of a whimper at the weapon while gently grasping onto his stomach which was rapidly sealing itself back up, he remembered all to well what damage a weapon like could do. The only thoughts that raced through his mind was that he had been somehow found out and needed to escape.

Susie scowled as she looked over the room, it wasn't anything impressive, nor special. It was just an old office that had a long mirror installed and a desk, nothing more and nothing less. Well perhaps if the room was trashed a little then maybe Allison would get scared and leave. After all her husband is only a contractor for Joey and therefore isn't part of the official roster for the staff, he's isn't an obstacle like she is. How dare that woman take away her claim to fame. Susie bitterly remembered all the previous roles she had of voicing everything from objects to chickens, all roles that were either demeaning or lack luster. This new role of Alice Angel, that was her ticket to fame and it righteously belonged to her. She worked hard to get where she was and they didn't have the right to take Alice away from her, she was Alice Angel not Allison. She couldn't wait till she finally got a proper meeting with Joey, that blasted man had been ducking and dodging her for a little over a week now. He will hear her opinion on the matter cause after all Alice doesn't like people who lie to her. Susie took one last loving look at the ax in her hand before she strode across the room and slammed the blade into the mirror shattering it, the glass falling to the floor like a silvery waterfall.

Benny could only watch in horror as Susie proceeded to bury the weapon into the remains of the mirror laughing manically as she worked, a joyous, twisted grin splitting her face. Once the mirror was nothing more then shards of glass upon the floor and the wall boards broken she turned her attention to desk itself taking it apart board by board. The chair had been upended and the back and seat completely broken and splintered. While she was decimating the opposite of the room Benny glanced at the open doorway and then back at Susie destroying the room. He didn't want to leave, but he feared that if he stayed he too would be taken apart like all the other inanimate objects within the room. Taking that last glance and ensuring that Susie had yet to turn her attention to his hiding spot he mustered up his courage and fled the room he once called his own, his last thoughts were that he would 'find his angel' before he disappeared down the dark halls of the studio.

------------ An hour Later at the Connor's --------------

The sounds of creaking bones and groans of a worn out man drifted through the house as Tom slowly got out of bed. He felt like he had slept, but at the same time didn't. His sleep had been fitful with his thoughts drifting to Allison's previous outburst and how she had avoided him thereafter. He didn't know why such a small thing as a toy was so important to her, but the least he could do was to try and get the toy before the staff showed up at the studio. He grabbed his robe and covered himself up before sliding into his bedroom slippers and slowly groaned into the kitchen, his body fighting him every step of the way. He turned the corner leading into the kitchen fully expecting to see an empty room, but standing at the stove was Allison. His eyes were wide at the mere fact that she was up, let alone up before him. He had grown used to leaving the home long before Allison woke and would only see her during the lunch break and her sleeping face when he got home.

'M-Morning.” Tom dryly choked out. He didn't know what else to say, he could only hope Allison had calmed down.

'Morning” Allison's eyes widened at seeing him, but she briefly smiled back at him before returning her attention to the stove. Tom taking that as a good sign that she was feeling better.

A small glance past Allison revealed the kitchen table covered in various food items. Tom was completely gobsmacked at the amount, it was just like the previous night except it was a mix of breakfast, lunch and dinner. “Umm...Honey? What's with all the food?”

“It's for the band.” Allison replied without skipping a beat. “We were planning a small picnic after recording later today, so I'll be home late.”

“Oh, ok.” Tom's eyes looked over the foods, he eyed some cookies and turned to look at Allison watching her carefully as a hand drifted towards a cookie. His hand didn't get far as Allison turned around and swatted his hand away from the cookie with precision.

“Not for you” Her stern eyes met his and he took the hint and vamoosed away from the pile of food and sat at the opposite end of the table that wasn't all cluttered.

The man didn't wait long as Allison presented a plate of eggs, bacon and a bagel with cream cheese. Tom uttered a small 'Thank you' while he gingerly accepted the plate and slowly started eating, savoring each and every bite of one of the many things he enjoyed from Allison; her cooking. While he ate he watched her carefully pack all the food items into 2 wicker baskets and stow them away in her day pack before taking up her own breakfast and ate in front of him.

The shared meal was primarily quiet, for Tom feared really trying to ask her about the previous day's event's lest she would get upset at him again. Once they both finished their breakfast Tom offered to wash the dishes  to give Allison time to get dressed for work. He watched her disappear down the hall to their bedroom and his mind drifted to the previous day with her outburst. It felt like she wasn't quite giving him the cold shoulder, but it was obvious she wasn't in the mood to talk about it. A long sigh escaped him as he placed the last plate into the dish rack to dry and dried his hands before finally turning to the hallway to the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and noticed that Allison was already dressed and was packing a large coat with her. She looked up at him and smiled briefly before she hefted her pack and coat and walked past him before stopping and gave him a small peck on the cheek whispering 'see you at work'.

Tom stood still as he watched her head out the door before him. He wished they could have both gone together but with the wall that Allison had put up it was perhaps for the better that she goes alone. He ran his fingers down the side of his face before heading to his room to get dressed himself. His mind drifting to the phone call he had received and how that he had no choice but to go back to the accursed hell hole of a facility known as Joey Drew Studios. He never wanted to put a singe toe back in that place, it had done nothing for him except give him a horrid sense of foreboding and hatred. He truly hated Joey with every fiber of his being and wanted nothing more to see the man's downfall, but that pleasure he wanted to see sooner then later. For now Tom had no choice but to swallow the bile of loathing that was building within him and had to report back to his 'former' boss.

The grumpy mechanic retreated to his workroom and retrieved his tool box and drafts, and box by box loaded them into his truck. He pondered over his luggage making sure all was accounted for and sat at the drivers seat glaring holes into the steering wheel. He didn't want to start the truck, he didn't want to drive down the same stretch of road he's taken over and over to get to the studio. He didn't even want to look at the building itself, but against his better judgment he edged the key into the ignition and started the truck with a low grumble. He could only chuckle and the seemingly annoyed groan the truck made and couldn't help but agree with the noise. With the removal of the parking break and the slow release of the break pedal Tom eased out the drive and slowly made his way of the stretch of road towards the studio.

--------- At Joey Drew Studios ----------

Tom pulled up in the studio lot to see that Allison's car was already there along with several other vehicle's that he recognized as the other staff members. He sighed and got out of the truck and grabbed his pack and headed for the doors. As soon as he walked in the staff was hustling and bustling as usual but there were many oddly huddled in small groups whispering to each other and the minute they saw him looking at them would either stop talking and look away, or leave all together. He couldn't hide the confusion on his face as he was normally greeted a few of the animation crew members that he had grown friendly with, but even they were avoiding him. What on earth happened? He tried to approach a few to say good morning  and the minute they saw him they all scattered like ants. OK. Something was definitely up.

Tom's thoughts were ground to a halt when he spotted a young ball of energy running down one of the hallways, Leonard. Tom hastily hid behind a stack of crates and carefully peaked around the corner. Right when he knew the boy was in range he swiftly raised his arm up and felt something ram into it. The young mans neck and chin caught Tom's upper arm and and elbow letting out a loud yelp as he fell backwards slamming onto the floor with his feet strait up in the air in a almost comical way. After all they always say to never run in the halls for you never know what may come around the corner. The musician groaned from the impact and tried to catch his breath which abandoned him the minute he looked up and saw Tom looming over him. A small squeak escaped the man before Tom grabbed him by the front of his shirt hefting him like a toy and pinning him behind the stack of crates. Only one word that escaped Tom's gritted teeth, 'Talk'.

Leonard was sweating bullets under Toms frigid glare, he didn't know what he did to get the man upset at him this time. He hadn't been playing and 'accidentally' bust any pipes this time, so what had the GENT engineers goat this early in the morning? “M-Morning Thomas. H-How are you this fine morning?” He squeaked to try and lighten the mood giving a shaky grin. Tom pressing him further into the wall served as a strong indicator that the man was by no sense of the word in the mood for small talk.

Tom sharpened his glare and slowly started lifting Leonard off the ground bit by bit. “Talk, what's going on?”

“S-Someone broke into Allison's dressing room and r-ransacked the place, the room was completely busted up by a blunt object and she's crying in the music department. N-Norman's there now t-trying to comfort her along with the band, but she is beyond w-words sir!” Leonard shrieked in the mans grasp.

Tom's eyes went wide at the information and it explained why everyone was dodging him. He dropped Leonard on the floor the young man immediately nestled himself behind the crates to keep Tom from throttling him. Tom turned on his heel ignoring Leonard and dashed down the hall towards the music department. Everyone was a mere blur as the staff quickly got out of the locomotive of a mechanics way for fear of being run over. The man clearly on a mission and was not tolerant of any obstacles, be it a object or a person. Tom saw the familiar sight of the music department logo and a cluster of people all muttering amongst themselves. Heads turned upon heading Tom's thundering footsteps and all hastily cleared a path for the man, some nearly tripping over themselves or each other. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks and his heart ache.

Allison was sitting on a chair absolutely beside herself, large tears streamed down her face as she was curled in on herself.  Norman was sitting next to her trying to comfort her the best he could, trying to talk to her while gently rubbing her back with Aaron and Giovanni both talking to Norman in hushed tones.  Edgar and Earl were in the corner both wearing a worried and somber expression neither boy approaching the distraught woman. Aaron and Giovanni both looked at Tom and a small scowl graced their faces before they turned to give Allison and her husband some much needed space leaving the room. Earl and Edgar both watched the older men leave and decided to do the same. Norman briefly looked up at the mechanic and he too had a small scowl before returning his attention back to Allison. Tom stayed silent and slowly made his way to his grieving wife, he had never seen her this upset before. The previous day's emotional episode was nothing in comparison to how she was now and a little voice in the back of his mind told him that it is more then just a simple break in and the ransacking of a dressing room, if the strange looks of disappointment from the band members where anything to go by.

Tom just barely opened his mouth to talk to her when Norman looked at him dead in the eye and shook his head telling him 'no', shutting him up immediately. He looked at the projectionist with worried eyes and Norman's stern look didn't budge and the man had no choice but to back down and give his wife some space. The projectionist looked down at Allison then back up and spotted Leonard whom had carefully edged into the hall, he gestured for the man to come over. The young man was confused at first since Norman didn't say anything, but firmly pointed at him and waggled his finger to come over. Not wanting to question the man, Leonard obeyed and Norman got up from his seat and had Leonard replace him in trying to comfort Allison while Norman gestured for Tom to follow him. Tom was confused why Norman didn't want him to talk to his wife, but decided to hear the man out.

Norman rounded the stairs and went up to his projection booth with Thomas in tow, he unlocked the door and motioned for the man to enter and once he did he followed in closing the door behind him and securely locking it. Norman turned around and let out a deep sigh looking up at tom “ Ah take it ya heard 'bout da missus room gettin' wrecked?”

Tom glanced down out the window at his wife and then back at Norman “Yeah I heard, but she can easily get a new room, god knows there are plenty of them here. I don't think she had anything important or valuable in the room.”

Norma's eyes went wide at the gruff mechanics statement. It truly confirmed what Allison managed to choke out in between her sobs 'Tom left Benny behind', and now her room had been destroyed and Benny was nowhere to be found. He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his own temper from flaring up, but needed to find out how much or how little Tom knew.

“Well th' only thin' she had that would be considered valuable was her Bendy plush, but da little toy's turned up missin'” he leaned against the door studying Tom's body language to try and figure him out.

Tom hung his head in shame “Well that blew that idea.” he scowled and Norman gestured for him to continue. “See yesterday I forgot to bring the stupid little toy home and Allison blew up on me. I understand that the darn thing was a gift, but for her to get so upset baffles me. If she wants one so badly I'm sure I can swindle one out of Shawn easy enough, plus he owes me a favor anyways for fixing the belts in his factory.” he had thrown his hands up in the air as he vented to Norman whom patiently listened. He had no clue why something so simple mattered so much.

Norman simply watched the man rant, it was clear that he had no clue about the true nature of the 'toy' as he called Benny. He let out a sigh making Thomas still after his venting. “How much did she tell ya?” his face very serious which was unusual for the normally relaxed projectionist.

Tom looked at him and rifled through his memories of the past few days and could think of anything significant. “She just asked me to bring home a toy she had gotten as a gift. I know I promised, but it was an honest mistake. There's no reason to have a full blown meltdown.” he scratched the back of his head in frustration.

“That's not how e'll see it.” Norman uttered softly looking at Tom with eyes full of pity and sadness.

“That's twice now I've heard that phrase.” Tom steadily growing frustrated pointing a finger sternly at Norman “what does that mean!?” The man nearly shouting at the top of his lungs throwing his arms up into the air.

Norman waved his hand nonchalantly and looked down at Tom “That lil dolly that Mrs. Allison done asked ya t' bring home was countin' on ya on doin' so. Lil Benny ain't welcomed dis place he was born in, an' I woulda thought you would 'ave known 'bout him considerin' ya done built th' machin' that made 'em. Th' lil toons been hidin' in 'er room waitin' fer ya t' show up and take 'im home.” Norman's words died down as he looked past the mechanic at his grieving wife below. “Now someone don' broke in 'er room an' he ain't no where t' be found. 'Er precious lil one disappeared. We don' even know if 'es alive or dead.” His sorrowful eyes drifted back to Thomas. “She's like a mother who lost 'er child.”

As soon as Norman's words left his mouth Tom felt his throat dry up and a pit formed within his stomach as he processed the man's words. The little toon was alive, the first one that had been made by the prototype ink machine was alive. He was living in Allison's room the entire time under her care while he had to refine the machine to make Bendy. His little body was fabric not ink, that's how he was able to survive the injury Joey had dealt him, the fabric softened the blow. The little one whom gave him a childlike thrill when he looked at a living toon that was responding to his interactions and was so infant like in response. The little light that had been accidentally brought to life and proved the theory was true, and brought nothing but joy upon creation. A light believed to have been snuffed out for not meeting the standard and for simply existing.

Tom lowered his arms and slowly looked at his hands, he remembered the feel of what he assumed was a stuffed animal in his hands that day he had a meltdown in Allison's room while hugging the plush 'Bendy'. The plush toy that felt oddly warm and solid. His mind drifted to that moment. He had been sobbing and after pulling the toy into an embrace someone was gently rubbing his back to try and comfort him, he had assumed it was Allison, but that couldn't be right she was at the bathroom at the time. It was the little 'Bendy', he was trying to comfort him as best he could. How could he have missed it? He held the little toon he thought had been killed by his monstrous boss in his hands and had promised to take him home. Tom's legs nearly gave out on him as the grim reality hit prompting Norman to grab his arm to keep him steady. He broke his promise. He lied to the little toon whom he brought into the world and the little one had been counting on him to get him out.

“I-I broke my promise. I broke my promise to the little toon, I broke my promise to my wife.” Tom's dryly choked as his mind was still trying to process all the things he missed. Allison's need for a bigger bag was for her to transport him around the studio safely. The two wicker baskets, it wasn't food for the band, it was extra food to feed the toon whom had no other food source. The dried ink all over her original bag, it was from his injury and he leaked ink everywhere. Tears started forming at the edges of his eyes and he slowly turned to look Norman in the eye “What have a I done?”

Norman could feel the regret coming of Tom in waves, the severity of what he had failed to do hitting him like a ton of bricks. He pondered over what would be best for the situation and slowly and carefully started to speak. “'Fer starters apologize t' Mrs. Allison. Then try t' find Benny, the lil boy is alone an' scared. You need t' find 'em before someone else does.” he held Tom's shoulders while looking him sternly in the eyes. “Find 'em.”

“B-Benny?” Tom looked at Norman slightly confused as to the name.

Norman chuckled “The lil toon's name is Benny, Mrs. Allison gave 'em the name since it's similar to Bendy but not. The lil boy is 'off-model', I'm sure you'd recognize 'em as soon as ya see 'em. You did make 'em after all.”

Tom nodded his head, he couldn't ever forget how 'off-model' the toon now named 'Benny' was in comparison to his now living counterpart Bendy. He could only hope he could find the little toon in a facility so large. Norman released his shoulders allowing the man to venture back to the window to look down at his wife below. He let out a sigh and turned back towards the door letting himself out and slowly made his way down the stairs. Step by step felt like an eternity as he tried to figure out his wording when he would approach her. He himself felt like his stomach abandoned him the closer he got and wanted to turn away to compose himself, but he needed to be strong for her, and to let her know it will be all right. He will find their little toon and Joey could go strait to hell for all he cared, Benny belonged with them not to that heinous man. Tom stopped briefly at the doorway at the bottom of the stairwell and was met by the Leonard looking at him with worry. He nodded slightly and the young man slowly edged himself away from Allison and Tom gently took his place and pulled Allison closer to himself.

The mechanic looked down at his wife and was thankful she had calmed down. Her sobs were soft as she was pulled into his chest and he rocked back and forth gently. “Honey.” he softly spoke while running his fingers through her hair pulling them away from her face. “Sweetheart.”

Allison slowly looked up at Tom with tired glassy eyes making the man's heart clench, she looked so exhausted and worn out. Tom uttered 3 small words that made her smile slightly and lean into him. 'I'll find him'.

Norman stood in the doorway and watched the couple in silence, it was heartbreaking that the lack of communication can cause such heartache, but at the same time it wasn't like they could freely tell each other what was going on. With Thomas's sense of professionalism and dedication to his job they feared that he would have turned Benny in if he knew he was still alive, or worse try and kill him like Joey had tried. The man was big on logic and reasoning which at times made them wonder if he had a heart under his stern and stiff demeanor. Allison on the other hand was nearly his exact opposite, while she was very much a professional she was far more compassionate about the people around her.  It was obvious she loved Benny like he was her own, but because of the fact that Benny was so off-model she feared that her husband's sense of duty to his job would somehow override his sense of compassion for a toon that was 'only an accident'.

Leonard quietly stood in the corner catching Norman's eye and he motioned for the young man to leave for which he needed no encouragement, it seemed he too knew when to give people some much needed space. Once Leonard was gone the projectionist  returned his attention back to the couple and smiled.  He didn't know what they were saying but he could see the burning determination in Tom's eyes and how Allison had relaxed into him. He didn't know what all happened between Thomas and Benny at the start of it all, but watching the man slowly get up from his seat and leaving a few small words with Allison the look in his eyes said it all. He will find Benny. Tom turned to face Norman briefly and nodded before making a purposeful stride out of the Music department and disappeared down the hallway and up the stairs.

Norman was very much thankful Thomas left when he did, Sammy had arrived a short time after him carrying one of the Bendy cutouts and placed it in the corner of the room along with a small collection of them. It struck him as odd. While Sammy jokingly commented about appeasing Bendy the man only bothered with the film version of the toon if he wasn't swamped with multiple cartoons at once that all needed music by the end of the day. Sammy had eluded that he hated the smile given to the Bendy cutouts and other homages to the toon devil, saying that they were creepy and wrong, but yet here he was openly carrying one of them around.

Once the cutout had been placed Norman watched Sammy walk up to Allison and have a brief chat with her before she was excused to rest in the corner of the room away from the band. 'Huh' Norman thought to himself as he watched the man motioning to the band to enter the department and take their seats while he stood at his podium. 'Looks like he heard 'bout Mrs. Allison's meltdown and is givin' 'er a break to recoup'. He tipped his cap to Sammy and retreated to his projection booth to set up when he saw a figure standing in the doorway of the department. Susie Campbell. The former actress sashayed up to Sammy clearly pouring on the charm, the man seemed neither impressed nor amused by whatever she was saying. He shook his head and uttered a few words to the woman which seemed to outrage her. Norman didn't know what was said but he could see her face morph into pure anger as she was clearly shouting at him and gesturing angrily at Allison, even the Band seemed to withdraw away from the scene. Sammy placed his hands on the former actresses shoulders and spoke for awhile and whatever he said seemed to calm the woman down somewhat. She shot another heated glare at Allison before giving a sweet look to Sammy before leaving the department as quickly as she came. Norman made a mental note to ask Allison what was said later.

Sammy stared at the doorway for a time to make sure Susie had left and let out a long tired sigh. It wasn't his idea to switch out the actresses, he kinda liked Susie, but at times she seemed very hollow and distant. A stark contrast to her normally sassy and confident woman she carried herself as. He didn't know what Joey was doing with all the sudden changes, but in the end he had to admit he liked Allison's voice for Alice Angel better. He could only hope that Allison got over her distress soon since they had to record another song later in the evening. It was a total shock that someone had to audacity to completely trash the young woman's room, and he had a sinking suspicion that it was Susie, but wasn't in the position to openly confront the woman about the matter. Allison was loved by many in the studio and he couldn't think of anyone whom had any grievances with her, say for Susie whom is thoroughly convinced that Allison went out of her way to steal the role of Alice Angel from her. The former actress would be the only one with a solid reason to go after Allison.

'Ah, well.' Sammy thought to himself. 'I'll worry about this nonsense later, but for now I need to get these songs done and to get Joey off my back'. He tapped his baton on the podium catching the bands attention and raised his arms in the air making sure all eyes were on him, once he had confirmation of attention he struck up the band.

While the band was playing and thankfully only rehearsing to familiarize themselves with the sheet music, Norman quietly slipped out of his projection booth after setting up the projectors for the later recordings. He eased down the stairs as to not be a distraction and quietly crept up to Allison whom sat quietly in the corner of the room studying her sheet music.  A gentle nudge broke her out of her concentration and she looked up at Norman who whispered 'I'm gonna go look fer 'em for a bit, I'm not needed fer a lil while so I got a moment'. Allison smiled at the man and whispered a small 'good luck'. He tipped his cap and quietly snuck out of the music department stopping at its entrance. Norman took a glance over his shoulder at Allison who never took her eyes off him and at the small glimmer of hope in her eyes. He could only hope to find her little one, and since Benny hid in dark places, the best place to look was below the studio.

The projectionist knew he was one of the few that not only had proper access to the newer sections of the studio being constructed below, but also of the few who knew about it. It was one of Joey's little secrets that was still in the works and since Benny shy-ed from any excessive amounts of noise and people the toon may have accidentally gone deeper into the studio where it was dark and quiet. Norman paced the halls and thought it was funny how he had grown used to constantly bumping into the various GENT staffers whom would be working on something in the studio, but now it was only the main studio staff. It was strange to not have them fluttering about tapping and banging on some extension of the Ink machine or fixing leaks. However none of that mattered now as the Ink machine was completed and now only Tom remained. He felt pity for the man, it was obvious by his earlier actions that Benny meant a lot to the man even if he may not have been with him long. He wish he better knew Tom's side of the story in regards to Benny's creation it would help fill in the gaps to what was really going on behind the scenes of the studio, he could only hope things don't get worse.

Norman set aside his thoughts for now and knew his focus was to try and find Benny. The rehearsals only last for a few hours and he would have to somehow get to the bottom of the studio and back again within that time frame, and could only hope he finds Benny in the process.

---------Meanwhile----------

Thomas carried a purposeful stride as he hurried down the halls of the studio. There were many places a 3 foot tall living doll could hide, and it wasn't like he can just wander down the halls shouting his name. People would think he was crazy for starters and the toon wasn't supposed to exist so that will put the little one at risk. He stopped at every doorway checking each and every room systematically, he felt ridiculous checking in small crevasses and crates, but the toon was the size of a small child and children can hide in the damnest places. Once Tom was certain the hallway and floor was cleared he turned his attention to the to hallway leading to the stairs for the next level. The man once again resembling an angry locomotive charged down the invisible tracks of the hall to the stairwell when an animator ran up to him shouting his name.

“Mr. Connor! Mr. Connor wait!” The young redheaded man ran up to him clearly out of breath. Tom stopped to hear the young man out, the man grasping his knees trying to catch his breath. “Mr. Drew is demanding to see you. He is raising one hell of a storm in the animation department trying to find you.”

Tom internally scowled, it was just a matter of time before Drew took out his frustrations on the staff in some manner. He let out a long sigh and rest his hand on the tired out animator. “Why don't you go take a break, I'll go deal with Joey. Ok?” The young animator nodded his head and wandered towards the break room with Tom escorting him, and once he was sure the kid was relaxing he steeled himself and turned towards the animation department to seek out the tantrum throwing tyrant.

Tom's trip was by no sense of the word a long one as he neared the animation department he could hear Joey bellowing at the overworked animators. The staff cowering under the dictator director and hurrying their sketches and cells as fast as their hands would allow. The man inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled preparing himself for a tirade and calmly entered the department well within Joeys line of sight smiling calmly at the man.

“Ah, Good morning sir.” Tom sauntered over to the red faced Joey “I heard you wished to see me.” Tom was thoroughly enjoying seeing Joey looking a bit worse for wear.

Joey glared back at Tom with a clear scowl on his face as he stopped looming over a terrified staffer and turned his attention to GENT engineer in full. The older man's clothes looked like they hadn't been ironed and pressed in a week and his hair which was normally slicked back was down and fluffy looking. Joey's normally tall and firm stance was now stooped over as he seemed to be clinging to his cane for dear life rather then making it look like a mere accessory. His eyes were wild and he looked like he was loosing his mind, and clear dark patches were underneath them like he hadn't slept in days.

“My Office. Now.” Joey growled out to the smug mechanic and turned to the department shouting at them to get back to work before he hobbled out of the department and down the hall towards his office with Tom in tow.

Tom watched Joey clearly struggling with walking as the man occasionally pushed off a wall to try and re-balance himself. The last time he saw him he wasn't this bad, it was like the older man was injured or exhausted. Certainly dealing with Bendy for a full day couldn't have taken this much out of the man can it? Sure Joey was always the frail sort, but he couldn't have been this fragile. Speaking of the toon where was he? He fully expected Joey to be proudly parading the little cartoon demon all around the studio boasting about the ink machine's 'great achievement' and how that all the efforts of the staff weren't in vain, but that wouldn't explain why he was forced to come back. Did something go wrong? God he hoped not,cause something about bendy felt a little off. Tom's mind went abuzz with countless possibilities while he followed the man into the office, not noticing the small ink splatters that stained the wall and corner by the door.

Joey slowly hobbled to his desk grasping onto it like it was his life line and edged around it till he was able to reach his chair and pulled it close to himself. He eased his worn body into the chair with a small groan, his joints protesting even the smallest movements and rest his cane on the edge of the desk. He folded his hands together on the desk leaning forward and rest his chin on his hands staring holes in the the still contemplating mechanic. “Now, do you know why I brought you here?” His tone cold and firm as his Grey eyes bore holes into Tom.

Joey's voice reminding the man of another matter, Tom looked up from his thoughts to face the director. “Oh probably you throwing a tantrum about Bendy and the Ink machine, thinking that I somehow screwed up again.” Tom shot back a heated glare. He was by no sense of the word appreciative of being forced to come back to the studio lest he lose his job.

“Precisely!” Joey's sudden shout startling Tom “That damn abomination of a toon doesn't act like Bendy at all!” Joey threw his arms up in the air in rage. “We have never had a voice actor for Bendy and yet that little shit was not only talking, but had the nerve to talk back to me! He didn't recognize the music from his own show and he sure as hell didn't recognize his other toon friends! The way he talks and moves around, he's acting like that pathetic excuse of a animator that left! You screwed up that machine for a second time now and I. Demand. Answers!” Joey slammed his fists down onto the desk at the end of his tirade, his breath coming out hard and labored.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose taking slow deep breaths to try and school his own temper “Look for as much as you seemingly hate to admit it, he is Bendy. Perhaps maybe not the way you see him, but maybe way his creator saw him. Last I looked you didn't design the toon, you only own him. So maybe, just maybe a bit of how his creator viewed his toon somehow got into the toon upon creation. After all sir what you put in is what you get out-”

“ I don't get what you mean by that! We put in all the reels, cells, sketches and anything we could find of bendy to make him! He should act how he is on the blasted screen, not in the imagination of his maker! ” Joey all but screamed at Tom, the mans eyes wild and filled with anger.

“Its as it means. We put is so much material into the damn machine I was surprised it was able to even handle the intake. What we put in merely provided a mold, it is up to him to fill it. Bendy is still a infant toon barely a day old and you're already pitching fits just like you did with the last one. What is it in your thick skull you don't get? Huh?!” tom waved his arms in annoyed disbelief “We created a mold and empty shell with the machine and the ink and information provided gave him his personality, but he lacks experience with his surrounding cause he has never been in reality. He has to learn what it is to be a living toon and what he is expected to do. We don't even know what all he is capable or incapable of doing cause he is only 1 day old. Why don't you actually spend time with him to get to know him before you condemn him!” Tom's face was flush with anger. This pathetic excuse of a human being had no patience for anything that is still developing. Bendy and Benny both were like children that needed the helping hand of a adult figure to navigate the ways of the world and this man had the gall to think that they would just pop out of a mechanical device 100% perfect with no strings attached. Life doesn't work that way. Everything has a string attached and you have to be willing to sort them out and work with them.

Joey's cold calculating eyes bore holes into Tom, the man had said that the machine was merely a mold maker and it was up to something to fill it? That the toon needed to be taught? Fine, he'll play this little game. For now. “Fine I'll do that, I'll give the toon a chance and try to teach him how he is supposed to behave. For now I want you to return to the machine and make sure everything is in working order Mr. Connor then go back to maintaining it's workings with Wally.” He waved a hand towards the door “You're dismissed.”

Tom scowled not budging an inch. “Where's Bendy?”

Joey grinned “He's fine and is in my care. You have nothing to worry about, he's just fine.”

“Then bring him out here. I want to see for myself.” Tom growled, balling his hands into tight fists. He knew with Joey's little outburst about already not liking the toon that there was no way for the toon to be in good health. He hadn't seen the man parading him like a trophy at all, nor had he heard any additional noises indicating that the toon was nearby. Not only that but to agree so easily without a full blown argument, something was wrong.

“Like I said, he is just fine and is resting from his birth. He is quite energetic and wore himself out. After all toons are surprisingly energetic, more so then on the big screen.” Joey coolly smiled as he leaned back into his chair, chuckling even like it was amusing about the nature of toons.

Tom glared at him and knew he wasn't going to get an answer as to what befell the young toon. “Fine.”

With a quick turn on the heel, Tom turned around and marched up to the door stopping briefly noticing small splatters of ink on the wall and the floor next to the door. Something had been thrown or struck in this spot, and it wasn't very high. Joey's office was always impeccable regardless of the countless pipe ruptures and spills. Something must have happened in the office. He briefly glanced over his shoulder and Joey whom was still watching him coldly, he let out a small huff and walked out the office closing the door roughly behind himself. Tom leaned against the door taking a deep breath before narrowing his eyes down the halls that surrounded him. He now had two lost toons to find.

---------------------

Joey made sure Tom was long gone before he left his office slowly and carefully as to not attract attention from any nearby staff. He cursed his uncooperative body, it was already bad enough that he suffered from weak joints and pain dealt to him from polio he got as a child, but any physical activity didn't help. Restraining that pathetic excuse of a toon wore him out more so then he would have liked, and on top of that the toon struck him during the struggle crippling him. His silent curses were broken by a smooth southern voice.

“Ya alright Mr. Drew? Ya look like yer havin' a bit o' trouble there.”

Joey turned to look up at Norman Polk whom had a worried look on his face. “Ah, just having an off day Mr. Polk. My body isn't exactly old, but I certainly feel old right now.” He lightly chuckled smiling faintly, he was always neutral towards the dark skinned man. Norman was a hard worker, well worth his pay and wasn't a problem child unlike some of the staff. He kept to himself and his projectors. 'Wait' Joey thought to himself. 'Thomas said that the toon needed to be taught. Perhaps he can be educated from watching his own films.' Joey lightly cleared his throat gaining Norman's full attention. “Hey Mr. Polk?”

“yes sir?” The projectionist looking down at him.

“You once told me that you have a little sister correct?”

Norman flashed a big proud grin. “Yes Sir. She's a lil bitty thin', all but 8 years old.” He took pride in his little sister and had to help his mother raise her since their father was no longer in the picture. “She absolutely love's the cartoons we make 'ere.”

Joey smiled listening to Normans answer, children like Norman's sister were the target audience for the cartoons and they would know the best shorts to pick that would describe the toon. After all children know their favorite shorts by heart. “Say if you had to pick all of your sisters favorite shorts, what would they be?”

Norman tilted his head the mans question, but thought back to the memories of his sister happily sitting in his lap at the movie theater cheering and pointing at the toons and their antics on the silver screen. A warm smile crept across his face as he reminisced at all the shorts he himself put together and seeing his sister's loving response. Naturally all the shorts that Henry made and that he put together were her favorites. He never missed a chance to take her to the theater so they could see the latest movie and to see the shorts. While they always had to sit in the back since the theater was segregated it never damped her mood at all. She always commented how she felt a connection to the little devil, always judged by her looks. That no matter how someone looks it was whats inside that counts.

Norman faced Joey and happily gave him a lengthy list of all the shorts that he sister adored, while Joey quickly jotted them down on a piece of paper. Once Joey wrote the last of the titles on the page he looked back up and Norman and smiled while patting the man on the shoulder “Thank you.”

Norman looked surprised by Joey's kindness towards him and seemingly earnest respect. “Yer welcom' sir, but if ya don' mind mah askin' what did ya need the list fer?”

Joey was caught off guard by the sudden inquiry, but was quick with his answer. “I got a group of investors coming later in the week and I needed to showcase some of our best films.” He flashed a warm grin at Norman “After all children know best.”

A chuckle escaped Norman's lip “Ya, that they do sir.”

“well if you'll excuse me I need to start rounding up those reels.” Joey nodded in farewell and started to try and limp down the hall but he got nowhere when a firm hand grasped his arm. He turned to see Norman holding onto his arm, the man lifted his arm up and slung it over his shoulder supporting his weight. “Wh-what are you doing?” Joey stammered out surprised by the sudden movement.

“Givin' ya a hand. Yer not gonna get far with yer legs so I'm gonna help ya. Yer headin' to the vault fer the reels right? I'm headin' that way anyway so might as well help ya along.” Norman laughed.

Joey lowered his head and chuckled softly to himself. “fine have it your way.”

With amused silence Norman shouldered the mans weight and with slow and steady stride he helped carry the older man to the elevator to take to the lower levels. They idly chatted about little things like Norman's family and the different cartoons as the elevator creaked and groaned on it's decent. When they reached the new  administration level they disembarked the elevator and stopped to take a break. Joey was worn out just from reaching the elevator so Norman let him rest on a crate until the man was able to steady himself again and then resumed their trip to the vault.  At the vault door Joey showed Norman how to open the door since at the moment he lacked the strength to stand for the duration and open the door. Once the door opened Norman was handed the list of desired shorts and the man gingerly rummaged through the collection pulling out the desired reels.

Norman fingered through the shelving of reels and various other items that had been stored in the vault and noticed a door in the far right corner of the room partially hidden by a shelf. He peered over his shoulder to make sure Joey wasn't looking and edged closer to the corner to get a better look. The door was large and partially hidden by an empty book case like someone didn't want anyone to see the door. A large ink splatter was at the base of the door and on the walls. The whole thing seemed wrong, he could only hope Benny didn't somehow make it this far down.

“Did you get them all?” Joeys voice sounded out from outside the vault room.

Norman scrambled away from the corner and grabbed the pile of reels needed. “yes sir! I got 'em right 'ere.” The man strode out of the vault carrying the pile in his arms.

Joey eyed the stack double checking that all was present and accounted for. “Good man. I almost thought you weren't even there for a minute and was gonna lock you in there.” He laughed while patting Norman on the back. The projectionist was slightly disturbed by the notion but chose to chuckle going along with the gag.

Carrying the reels in his arms Norman offered his shoulder to Joey whom quietly accepted and they both slowly made the trip back to the upper levels of the studio. Norman picked up a few additional reels along the way that were needed by the music department for later in the evening, and dropped Joey and his stack of reels off at his office. Joey gave the man his thanks and with the tip of his cap Norman resumed his route down the hall disappearing out of sight leaving Joey to his own devices. He hated having to stop to help the man whom hurt his little friend, and now the time he could have spent looking for Benny got used up by Joey and he had to go back to the music department.

------------------

Joey glanced at the reels that Norman has stacked on the edge of his desk in his office letting out a deep annoyed sigh. He seriously doubted that playing the reels for Bendy would work in any fashion, but anything was worth a shot. He already spent too much on the ink machine and as much as he hated to admit it the damn thing had produced a proper living toon with the aid of the Illusion of Living and the sacrifices. He'll try Thomas's suggestion of letting the toon learn from his own reels, but he needed a back up plan in case Bendy doesn't behave the way he is supposed to. But what?

Joey subconsciously pulled out the Illusion of Living and glanced through it's contents. The mysterious book had aided in the creation of the living toon and helped provide the Ink machine with it's ability to create life, may something within could help guide the toon as it did with the machine. Joey mindlessly flipped through the pages of rituals and summonings until a small excerpt caught his attention:

A human can be divided into two distinct portions: the soul, and the body. The body is merely a vessel, a husk that the soul fills and in turn brings the empty husk to live by providing the life needed. The soul is the heart of the body and the very essence of what makes up the individual. The body cannot function without a soul and the soul cannot be without a body. It is intangible unless given a physical form to be contained within. In rare instances the body can move without a soul housing it by means of magic imitating the likeness of a soul, a personality. An illusion of a living individual and what made that individual unique. In short a doll given magic to imitate the life around it and pass off as a living creature, a golem with a power source of magic. Magic is not infinite making golems only temporary, a soul however is. While it is not recommended and highly dangerous it is possible to give a golem or doll a soul. It requires sacrifices and a ritual.

Joey's eyes lit up at the passage. He saw many similarities to Tom's rough description of the ink machine. It was made a mold in the shape of the toon that the ink filled with information to make a living toon. However once his eyes rest upon the final portion of the paragraph it made his heart race. He had infused the Ink machine with dark magic he gained from the book and the grim fact that the magic was not infinite. How long would it last? Was it a few days? Weeks? Years? There was no time frame given. How long would the toon last? He was certain that Bendy didn't have a soul since he is a cartoon and has no person within him as a 'energy source', but that didn't seem right.

The man rest his head on his hands as he leaned forward on his desk laying the book down and skimming the passage again trying to better comprehend the wording. Bendy claimed that he had some of Henry's essence in his ink from his creation using that as an excuse as to how he somehow knew the man. Was the blood mixed in the ink and acted as a temporary source keeping the toon going, but how long will that last? His mind also drifted to the toon that Sammy has spotted in the music department, the false Bendy. That toon somehow was still alive despite being made from the experimental Ink machine. Was somehow some of Tom's blood mixed in with the dolls fabric when he gave it to the machine? He was the only one to handle the toy prior to handing it over and his hands were banged up from working all day. Bendy claimed he had Henry in him so under that logic the rejected toon must have some of Tom in him as well. Blood must be a energy source for them somehow, but that cannot last forever.

Joey reread the passage again 'Magic is not infinite making golems only temporary, a soul however is. It is possible to give a golem or doll a soul. It requires sacrifices and a ritual.' This caused the man to chuckle and burst into a raucous laughter. He already had the sacrifices and knew how to perform rituals with ease all he needs is the man in question and he will have a soul for the empty husk known as Bendy the Dancing Demon. With a swift motion Joey opened up his desk and pulled out some stationary laying it out, a few strokes of a pen later and he wrote a simple letter of invitation:

Dear Henry,

It's been awhile since we worked on cartoons together, time seems to be slipping away faster and faster.

At your earliest convince come visit the old shop, there's something I want to show you.

Your best pal,

Joey Drew

Joey held up the letter with pride before a hint of concern shot through him turning his smile into a scowl. What if something goes wrong? Would any soul work as a source rather then the creator himself? Bendy already has a personality given to him from the material used in the machine so wouldn't he just need an energy source? This warrants investigation, but first he needs to be educated by his own cartoons to ensure success. If all goes as planned then any random insignificant person will do, he owns the entire staff of the studio so it wouldn't matter if a person or two disappeared. A smile crept across his lips and he slid the paper and address back into the drawer the only thought that crossed his mind 'just in case'.

--------Meanwhile at the Music Department---------

Sammy couldn't help but scowl at the entire band, often losing his temper and nearly snapping his baton from how hard he struck the podium shouting for the band to cease playing. Every last one of them was not playing to the best of their abilities, and most of all Allison. Her singing didn't have that normal heavenly feel to it like it would normally have. It was like an angel who had her wings broken. He understood that her dressing room had been broken into but unfortunately this was a studio and they lacked the luxury of waiting for someone to get their act together after a incident. It was cold but it was a grim truth. It was as if her distraught mood had affected the band. They were playing halfheartedly and that lively energy wasn't there. The feel of the room didn't match the film being played behind them.

After the 5th attempt at the piece Sammy slammed his hands and baton on the podium. “Stop, Stop, Stop! I don't know what is wrong with the lot of you today, but we don't have all day for you to get your acts together.”

The irate musical director pointed a finger at Leonard. “Your violin playing is everywhere, but where the sheet music dictated. You're hitting too many flats and you're off key. Re-tune your violin and watch your damn finger placement.”

“You two Aaron and Giovanni, I don't who spit in your corn flakes, but you both are playing too aggressively for the piece and the notes are coming out too harsh for the piece. Both your respective pieces have many parts that dictate a decrescendo and yet you are blatantly ignoring it. If it says to lighten up then lighten the hell up.” Sammy bellowed at the two men from across the room making Leonard flinch since he was taking the brunt of Sammy's tirade.

“And you blasted twins, your playing sounds like your dragging your feet down the road to your funeral, you're supposed to be playing a lively tune with a skip in your step. Pick it up!” Both Edgar and Earl winced from the mans heated glare and bellowing.

“Most of all you. Mrs Connor.” Sammy took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Look I understand that someone broke into your dressing room and completely trashed the place, but I need you to find your voice. You are singing so softly I can barely hear you and your voice sounds cracked and broken. I'm sorry, but I need an joyous Angel, not a weeping one.” Allison looked at him and nodded at him slightly before bowing her head not looking at him in the eye.

“All right everyone take a 15 and we will try again. Keep in mind we don't have a luxury of mistakes or it's our paychecks.” Sammy shouted out to the band excusing them for a moment, he picked up a handful of the sheet music and left the department.

Norman came out of his projection booth letting out a loud sigh. “Man it's been awhile since I seen Sammy get that worked up.” he grabbed an empty chair and pushed aside the Bendy cutout facing it away from himself.

Allison sat on her stool holding her bag close to her chest. “I'm having a hard time feeling it. I would feel him nudging me and would often try and sing along to where I would have to pat him to get him to stop, but now I don't feel anything. He isn't there by my side. I know Tom promised to go look for him, but this place it huge and Benny is small. He could be anywhere.” The woman curled around the bag gently as if it were her lifeline.

Leonard looked at her worriedly until a little idea popped into his head “Hey It's not all that bad.” his chipper mood causing Allison to look up at him. “See Edgar, Earl and I.” the young man grabbed the twins pulling them close so all three can face her. “The three of us know the studio like the back of our hands, I'm sure with the three of us all running 'round we can find the little bundle of joy in no time.” the three young men all flashed huge mischievous grins at Allison, making her laugh.

Edgar and Earl both spoke in unison sounding in stereo “Yeah! We'll find our little devil in no time!”

“Thanks boys.” Allison chuckled at them. It was no secret that the unholy trio treated the studio like it was a playground and were probably more mischievous then the little devil darling himself. They had this uncanny ability to get into places that most of the older staff cursed their child like nature. Perhaps it took one with a child like personality to find a child.

Giovanni stepped forward and ruffled his hand on Leonard's hair messing it up. “With  our little pocket nuisances running around being the local terrors that they are, I'm gonna see if I can lay some of those can of Bacon soup around for the boy. We all know he likes food so maybe if some food is left sitting around he might go for it. That way we can narrow down where he ran off to. With his appetite he is bound to get hungry sooner or later.”

“Oh god no, do you plan on poisoning the boy?” Aaron joked from across the room. “We all know how bad that soup tastes and it will only make the little one sick. If you're gonna leave food lying around you might as well leave something that tastes better.”

“Hate t' break it t' ya Aaron, but those are th' only things that can be lyin' round that Joey ain't gonna suspect. Th' man is pround o' th' soup and 'as no problem wit' them lyin' all over th' place. Anythin' else be obvious and raise an alarm. Plus thay got a shelf life that won't quit, them damn thin' 'ill last ferever” Norman commented from his chair.

“Beside those canned soups actually taste pretty good!” Leonard beam over at Aaron. The man grumbled and commented about how something must be either wrong with Leonard's taste buds, his brain or both.

The group burst into laughter at Aaron's commentary and everyone agreed that now they needed to find their little lost friend for their Angel's sake. With Tom now in the mix looking for the toon the man was like a determined hunting dog, he doesn't let up till he gets his prize. The atmosphere seemed to lighten with the group and the weight on all of their shoulders and hearts a little lighter. The small Bendy cutout collection in the corner all smiling at the lighter mood the small team had found themselves in.

Sammy entered the music hall after the break prompting the group to break apart and resume their positions back at their instruments, mic and projector. Sammy glanced around and it seemed that everyone's faces were brighter and more focused. With the wave of a hand and baton he stuck up the band and the sound that followed was the sound that he was used to, perfection. Whatever happened through the course of the 15 minute break seemed to be enough to help the band get back on their feet, Allison found her voice and the band was playing like normal.

Once the day wrapped up Sammy laid out the new music for the band to collect and wandered off in search of more cutouts. Once Sammy was out of sight and the band confirmed he was gone they all looked at Allison with determined eyes and all split up to begin their search of a little plushdemon whom had gone missing. The group searched for hours until some got caught by Joey and was urged to go home for the day and come back in the morning. While Joey was fussing at Leonard, Edgar and Earl for once again running around the halls like little hell spawns Giovanni had secured a stash of Bacon Soup cans and with Aaron and Norman's help had slowly started leaving small shelves worth of the stuff in random places. Taking mental note of where they had been placed and hoped to check on them in the morning to narrow down the search.

-------late that night within the studio--------

Joey was more then frustrated and exhausted from the day, but at the least he had little 'loose ends' to wrap up. He found his reining in the nuisance trio from the music department a mere setback, god he wished those three had better things to do then run around the studio like it was a playpen. They were adults for gods sake and Leonard was worst of them being the clear ring leader. That one was just as energetic as the little devil darling himself. That mere thought gave him pause. Leonard was just as energetic as Bendy and knew the cartoons like the back of his hand. The man was a known musician, dancer and overall entertainer hence why he was recommended for hiring. He might be a good candidate to offer to Bendy, after all the two were similar.

'First things first' Joey thought to himself as he cradled the collection of film reels in his arm 'I need to give Bendy a proper education after all'. The man strode down the dark halls of the studio with only a few of the pale yellow emergency lights lighting his way. He went down several halls and entered the elevator descending into the depths of the studio. The elevator's decent was slow and creaky leaving the man to be a bit nervous as to whether or not it would suddenly give out on him, but with it's protesting it arrived at the desired destination. Joey swiftly exited the elevator not wanting to be in the cursed contraption any longer then necessary and vowing to take the stairs upon returning to the top floors.

He strode past the new additions to the studio feeling a sense of pride in knowing how his precious studio was progressing faster then he could ever believe. He had an amusement park being developed within its newer walls, the completion of the Ink machine and the production of the living toons which will soon freely roam the park and be living attractions, something that the competitors couldn't ever dream of having. He and he alone had the ambition to make the impossible possible. He just has a small speed bump to take care of and soon Joey Drew studios will reach new heights that no one else could ever hope to achieve.

Joey adjusted the reels in his arms as he slowly unlocked the vault door pulling it open just enough to squeeze through. He briefly set the reels down and moved the shelving that masked the hidden door to the heart of the Ink machine. Though small curses escaped the man as he moved the heavy shelving. He wished he could have just have Norman pull out the reels and left them sitting out to retrieve later, but then that would let on that something was amiss on these floors and the last thing he wanted was for someone to discover the truths within the walls. Few people were allowed this far down and he wanted to keep it that way while the areas were still in development. However with Bertrum's constant boasting about his park development and the little mechanical toy Bendy he had been developing eating up the finances that should go into finishing the new administrative areas and offices, he had to bite his tongue. That man can boast till the cows come home about his fame and prowess in development and design, but he Joey Drew has a living toon. That little mechanical toy that is supposed to be Bendy can never be him cause he had the real one once he has all that he needs to be perfect. So for now he will let Bertrum have his little fun and as long as his staff assists with completing the park and the lower levels along side GENT, then he will be satisfied with that.

The man traversed the short halls and entered the 'Belly of the Beast' that housed the ink lake. He cursed the fact that a proper bridge or platform had not been made yet to allow access to the heart of the machine without walking away like someone lost a fight with an ink well. Yet another little delay that needed GENT's or Bertrum's team's attention. With caution he slowly waded across with his eyes watching the ink as it seemed to grab at his closing like a lake of cursed souls begging for freedom. He was silently thankful that the natural well for the ink wasn't any deeper lest he fall and drown in the ebony substance.

He finally reached the shore and set the reels down to wipe off the excess ink that stubbornly clung to his clothes. Once he got the majority of the excess ink off he scooped up the reels and with a sing song voice that would scare more sane folk, waltzed into the 'throne room' where Bendy sat limp at the chair and to Joey's relief still bound in chains.

“Oh Beeeeeendy~” Joey hummed out reaching his hand under the toons chin lifting his head to face him. “Look what I got for you.” the man held up a film reel reading 'The Dancing Demon' on it's side.

Bendy was unresponsive and didn't even seem to be looking at the man, Joey ran his fingers down the side of Bendy's face marveling at the feel of the living ink demon and then noted that the toons frown was twitching. Bendy lunged at him bearing teeth that were off-model as he tried to bite his hand, Joey thanking his reflexes at pulling away before the toon could bite down on him. The man took in the toons off model teeth, the base of the teeth were the normal blocky look but the ends of the teeth which should be flat were triangular and sharp. Bendy's pie cut eyes glaring at the man and small growls seemed to be escaping is gritted teeth.

“Oh come now Bendy, temper ,temper.” Joey subconsciously rubbed his hand that barely escaped being bitten. “I brought you a little present and this is how you thank me?”

Bendy didn't say anything except small low warning growls every time the man got near him while Joey seemed to be pulling out boxy looking items around the base of the chair. Joey whistled Bendy's theme song for the show while he worked all the while the toon trying his best to once again free himself, but failing since the only thing he could move was his floating head. His hands occasionally grazed Joeys clothes trying to grab a hold on him while he worked earning a frown from the man.

Joey grew tired of the toons rattling around in the chains while he worked, and drifted over to the pile of clasps that still lay in the corner. He found 2 smaller ones and pulled out the small bottle of acetone he carried and coated the rings in the liquid. He turned around to face Bendy and the toons growls ceased when he saw the look in the mans eyes, cold and void of life. His desire for escape escalated more and more as Joey approached him opening each ring, even restoring to begging for forgiveness and he'll behave if he just let him go. The toons begging fell on deaf ears as Joey grabbed Bendy left hand and with assistance from the acetone drove the ring through the button on his hand and then curled the ring around coming out the adjacent button clamping it around the chains holding his hand in place. The toon screamed in agony and pain at the sudden motion, he sobbed loudly with large inky tears staining his face as he begged for forgiveness and that he was sorry for trying to bite the man let alone trying to grab him. The director didn't seem to care for the toons pleas and repeated the same actions to the toons right hand earning more screams and sobs.

“Now that I have your undivided attention” Joey sneered as he grabbed Bendy's head lifting it up to meet his own. “I want you to watch these films and be a good little boy.” He released Bendy's head and the toon quietly sobbed as Joey resumed working on the projectors. One by one each projector came to life showing off the various shorts of the Bendy cartoon. The little smiling devil was a far cry different from the one whom sat crucified to the throne and was forced to watch. “And look! You won't be in a dark room anymore, so have fun.”

The last thing Bendy heard was Joey's raucous laughter as the man slammed the door behind himself. The toon silently vowing to someday wipe that man's smile off his face, he'll have the final laugh.

Authors Notes:

Poor little Benny has disappeared into the depth of the studio, driven away by the false angel. Tom finally learned the truth of the little toon he thought was dead and the severity of his lack of action, but how was the poor guy to know? It is amazing how lack of communication and trust can create so many problems. Now they have to try and find Benny in hopes that they aren't too late and now it seems that Joey Drew is on the move with poor Bendy as his play thing.