#it just got too cluttered in my head cuz i kept thinking about things and wondering if it should also get added

[clownkillsyou]

theres more info but this is all i ever got 4 a spectre ref idk i feel like i should post n e ways

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.3

Pt. 1    Pt.2   Pt. 3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, smut in this chapter, unprotected sex, (some dom/sub themes, cunnilingus, squirting, slight breeding/impreg language, creampie, cumplay), some fluffiness follows the smut, secret relationship, angst

a/n: Part 3! This is the smut chapter. This is one of the longer ones. I hope this is meeting everyones expectations from what the first chapter had given off. Very excited to share the rest. As always requests/asks are open! :)

Word count. 3.7K

You were awakened with a light knock on the other side of Loki’s chamber door. You kept your eyes closed not wanting to have to face any conflict fresh out of sleep. Remaining in your same position you heard Thor’s voice informing Loki to feel free to make his way to the dining hall. You kept still, wanting to hear the entire conversation without any disruptions or derailings of what was meant to be said. 

“Who's the young lady between your legs, brother?”

“One I’m thinking of marrying. The only issue is her parents' blessing, something she’s yet to ask. The right time’s on the horizon, but not quite within reach.” 

“Have you spoken to father about it?”

“I have the feeling that waiting until the last moment will work best for me. A bit of chaos if you will.”

Thor chuckled

“You never change, brother.”

“Why alter something that needs not fixing?”

“That bridge is yours to cross and I will be there for you when it happens. Regardless, food will be waiting for you and your lady when you're ready to come out.”

Loki nodded his head in acknowledgment and Thor left the room. With the door closing, you stretched and turned around to face Loki. 

“So, you plan on making me your wife?”

“You were awake?!”

“I had stirred awake when your brother knocked on the door. I wasn’t faking it the whole time. Although I’ll admit, it’s nice to know you’re in this fully.”

You stood up and moved to sit in Loki’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Well, since you eavesdropped in on the conversation, are you up to eat?”

You answered, hesitantly,

“Yes...if you’re in it fully and an offer of marriage is in the near future, the least I can do to convey my undying fidelity is to be shared with you in public. I’m ready for it all.”

Standing up, you stepped to the side to let Loki up and lead the way. Once out of his quarters you walked beside him through the corridors of the palace he called home. Arriving in the dining hall to your surprise and relief everyone had already left. The two of you to be left alone. Life felt unusually at ease, anxiety was free from your bones and you had a gut feeling that at least while you were here everything would play out in your favor. It was more than comforting and for once in quite some time you were finally able to eat. A little more than you expected honestly. You hadn’t realized how much you had been depriving yourself of necessary nutrients because eating was the last thing on your mind. Everything had been cluttered for the past year. 

It wasn’t until recently that your appetite began to fizzle out. You knew you’d eventually be okay but one meal a day would eventually catch up to you. And right now it was showing.

“Hungry?”

Suddenly aware of your surroundings and Loki’s raised eyebrow you were faced with how much you had actually gone through while being stuck in your head. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t look like a pig did I?”

You shrunk, your shoulders making a poor attempt at hiding your embarrassed face.

“No, Y/N, you did not. Simply wondering how you put it all away.”

You paused wondering whether or not you should expose yourself. Relationships were all about transparency, right? 

“I haven’t been eating all that much lately. The mental has affected the physical especially within my own home and I finally felt comfortable within these walls and I completely forgot my manners. My apologies.”

“I never said to stop. Indulge till your heart and well, stomach’s content Y/N. This will be your home, thus you may behave however you see fit. There’s no need for change.”

Looking at Loki through your brow you saw that he meant what he said. The expression on his face silently communicating sincerity to you. Your embarrassment faded and was replaced with affirmation. 

Finishing in the hall you and Loki walked back into his quarters. Night had fallen over the sky completely and the hallways of the palace looked more familiar to you now. Entering his room you walked past the bed and went straight for the balcony. You looked up towards the sky, looking for the answer to all your questions to be written in the stars. You failed to hear the footsteps behind you and only became aware of Loki’s presence when his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulders.

“You know, the stars aren’t going to give you the answers with any more ease. Believe me, I’ve tried. You just have to do what you don’t want to.”

“I know I just...I just wish it would be easier. I wish we had the freedoms of the cosmos, being able to travel through the entire mass of space without thought of what's to come next.”

You turned around, resting your back against the railing. You looked down and fiddled with your fingers for a moment before you looked up at Loki. The moonlight was bright and full, casting a white shadow across his features. You were unsure of what to do with your hands so you just placed them by your sides and admired Loki for a little while longer. A small smile subconsciously formed on your face and it wasn't until Loki reached for your hands did the haze in your eyes fade.  

“If only you knew the chaos I’d bring upon worlds. If only you knew the hells I’d race through, the agony I’d suffer with if it meant you by my side...it would seem that freedom is already had, my darling.” 

“Loki, I-

“-No matter the circumstance, you will be by my side. Whatever the battle is you must face with your parents, I swear to you, you will not bear the burden alone. If you were to, then what would I be here for?”

Your hand squeezed around his own and before you got a chance to respond to him, Loki’s hand slipped from your own and tilted your chin up. Staring into your eyes before capturing you into a searing kiss. It felt warm, comfortable, and fueled by fiery passion all at once. You removed your hand from his and wrapped your arms around his neck, weaving your fingers into his hair. Loki’s hands traveled to your waist but didn’t stay long before they traveled further down and firmly grasped your ass in his hand. The action causing an airy moan to slip from you and tug on his hair tighter eliciting a similar response from him. He slipped away from your lips, smirk all too telling of what was to come next 

“Coming alive now that the moon is out? You’re like my own personal bloodsucker.”

You playfully hit his shoulder 

“Loki..” 

“What it’s true darling. You really do, come...alive at night. It’s not a problem though, I quite enjoy seeing you shed the layers you wear while the sun shines.”

Emphasizing his point he squeezed your ass again and tapped under signaling to you to jump. Wrapping your legs around his slender waist, he turned you around and walked back into his bedroom. 

“Now that you are in your element, I take it it's time for that prize you spoke of so arrogantly earlier.”

Your eyes widened realizing what you had just signed yourself up for. Loki placed you gently down on his bed and crawled over to face you directly. 

“Unfortunately...for you at least, your choice in waiting will leave you in desperate need of a pillow to keep you from waking anyone important up.” 

“You’re so snarky, what if I desire to control this evening, hmm?”

“It will be a dream short-lived my love. You and I both know you have a debilitating tendency to fall weak under my touch. It’s irresistible to you.”

Tangling your leg underneath Loki’s, you flipped yourself over so that you were now on top of him. Desperate in having at least one moment to relish in dominance over him. Situating yourself you ground yourself into his now growing arousal. Planting your hands on his chest you brought yourself forward, leaning down into his ear and rolling your hips into his once more causing him to hiss through his teeth. Licking a stripe up from his neck to his ear you ended your trail with a light nibble on his lobe. In your last-ditch effort of a display of power, you whispered in his ear,

“Don’t be dense, you and I both know you enjoy it with much fervor being like this.”

And just like that, your moment of fame was something of the past. Before you could even register that your moment was gone, Loki was already on top of you, and the dress that once adorned your soft skin was being torn down the middle, exposing your body to him.

“Loki!-”

“-My love, there was no room left for teasing. We already established that did we not? Now, to remind you of your place, I’m going to make sure you never forget it or this night we’re sharing.”

Loki snaked down your body, his hands resting on your hips bones while he nudged your sex with his nose. Squirming your way into a submissive role, you rolled your hips down in need of any type of friction. 

“Y/N, unlike some people in the room, I fully intend on giving you what you yearn for. You just have to find the willpower of patience within you. Remember I don’t like teasing.”

“But you do like to lie, which you just did right th-”

Your sentence was cut short cuz Loki had licked a tender stripe between your folds. Sending passion electric through your body. Your head lulled back into the bed fully engaged in Loki’s ministrations to your most sensitive of areas. Losing yourself in the moment you failed to notice Loki’s hands traveling up your sides and resting on your pert nipples. Rolling them between his fingers, your fingers clutched the sheets beneath you, needing something to brace yourself on. 

“Shit~ Loki, you're so good! Oh my god, don’t stop, I’m so close!”

Lifting his head up slightly you felt the change in atmosphere waiting for his smart remark to leave his lips.

“You said that with a lowercase g right?”

A little extra air left your nose signaling your light amusement to his statement. Only to follow it with a roll of your eyes still amazed by Loki’s narcissism even in such an intimate moment. The lightness in the air didn’t last long for Loki continued his attack on your cunt without warning. Smirking against your folds, he spoke

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. Unless you’re seeking punishment this evening.” 

“Fuck Loki!”

His tongue was something otherworldly, finding all your sweet spots and using it to his advantage. He rolled your nipple once more and this time added a lithe finger inside your dripping heat curling it just right to become acquainted with the cute little spongy spot within you. Your hands found refuge in his black locks, rolling your hips into his face feeling your release begin to peak over the precipice. 

“Loki, please don’t stop! I’m so close, I’m gonna cum. Please, Please Loki let me cum.”

A reinvigorated fire was now fueling Loki to help you reach your bliss and with a swift back and forth motion on your now swollen clit your orgasm washed over you in a way you hadn’t felt before. Your back arched and your thighs clamped around Loki’s head being completely overwhelmed with your climax. As your orgasm subsided you brought yourself to your elbows getting ready to return the favor to your lover. But he had other plans.

Grabbing your hips, Loki slid you down the bed closer to him and placed his mouth on your sensitive mound once more.

“Holy shit! Loki, stop, I'm so sensitive.”

Looking up at your through hooded lids, he cocked one eyebrow and questioned

“Do you really want me to stop?”

“I-uhh”

Flattening his tongue against your sex your response was lost in thin air replaced with a cry of pleasure. Loki entered another finger into your fluttering cunt and was determined on bringing you to a second rapture which was not difficult considering the aftershocks of your first one were still running through you. You felt the heat pool in your lower stomach and you began to feel the pressure build somewhere lower. For a split second, you became worried about what was going to happen next and you attempted to push Loki away from you not wanting to lose control, but his other arm kept you in place. 

“Loki, please I can’t handle it. Please!”

You weren’t quite sure what it was you were begging for. It definitely wasn’t for him to stop because you were so close but rather to save the embarrassment of what was to come. Unable to ward off your orgasm any longer, Loki’s finger made one final motion and your second orgasm was even stronger than the first. Ruining your vision and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Darling...remind me from now on to never let you writhe out of my ministries.”

Trying to calm down your heavy breathing you looked down at Loki only to be met with the sight of beads of your orgasm trail down his face and your juices glistening on his chin. The sheets beneath you beginning to turn a little cold. 

“Loki, oh my-”

Climbing up over your body, he hovered over your face. Somehow while lost in your own euphoria Loki’s shirt was discarded somewhere in the room and you were all but distracted by his toned physique.

“Don’t even think about an apology. Seeing you lose yourself in me like that was more than satisfying and this was just an extra luxury that you allowed me to enjoy.”

He emphasized his point by rubbing his fingers through your weeping pussy causing your body to jerk due to the sensitivity and Loki just smiled at you. Moaning you trailed your hand down to the pronounced tent in Loki’s pants. 

“I can’t wait any longer Loki. I need you inside of me. Please.”

Your voice faded into a whimper becoming insatiable with Loki above you. Fidgeting with the button on his pants, it didn’t take you long to have them unfastened, and slipped your hand into his pants, palming his length. Loki dropped his head into the crook of your neck, a low growl escaping his throat. Helping Loki push the fabric down the rest of his legs he positioned himself in between your hips lining himself up with your entrance. Looking up at you, you noticed there was a certain softness swimming in his eyes. 

“Y/N, you are so beautiful. Truly you are the most entrancing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I’m more than favored to be able to call you mine.”

“Loki, I~oh fuck”

The recurring theme of your sentences being lost in translation continued when Loki prodded his tip at your entrance causing you to suck in a breath of sheer pleasure. 

“Don’t tease me, please. Just fill me up Loki, I feel so empty without you.”

A moan and an airy chuckle left Loki’s lips before he fully sheathed himself within your tight core.

“Darling, no matter how many times I have marred your womb you still remain tight as ever. Gods you feel divine.”

Moving at a slow yet devastating pace Loki’s cock was kissing your cervix and sweet spot with every single thrust. Your core clenching around him created a resistance that was licentious and overwhelming for the both of you. Loki pulled himself almost all the way out and then slammed back into your sopping cunt causing a loud high pitched moan to flee from your chords.

“Shit! Loki, do that again.”

Loki repeated the action and your back arched from the bed and your nails dug into his back racking down the length of it. This new pace and pattern of movement were moving you quickly to your third release of the evening.

“You like that Y/N. Like how my cock can make you feel like no one else can. I’m going to make sure that your insides become so familiar with my shape that nothing else will be able to satisfy you.”

Picking up his pace slightly, Loki was still slamming deep inside you. Your eyes were no longer able to stay open while lost in all the pleasure that was tingling your entire body. Quickly though that thought would be eradicated from your mind as Loki’s hand came up to your face squishing your cheeks together forcing your lips to pout.

“Look at me while I fuck you Y/N. I want to watch you fall apart underneath me. I want you to watch as I fill you with my seed, claiming you as mine forever.”

You and Loki had never let him finish inside of you and the idea of him filling you with his seed and becoming swollen with his kid had you squeezing around him tighter than you ever had. Your moans picked up in frequency and you moved your hand up to his neck bringing his face down to your so that you could share a kiss while the both of you were approaching your highs. Loki’s hand snaked down to your core and began lightly rubbing on your clit. The last bit of stimulation fully brings you to the peak of your approaching high.

“Loki, fuck. I’m going to cum. Please don’t stop. Please please please!”

Loki brought his forehead down to rest on yours. A sticky layer of sweat was evident on both your faces. His thrusts became more erratic signaling he hadn’t much time left in him before his high. 

“I love you, Y/N. More than you could fathom. And I~ahh”

This affirmation took you by surprise. You and Loki had a strong partnership and you knew that you loved each other mutually but you both had never said it out loud before. Not only did this warm your heart but it also pushed you over your threshold and your climax. Washing over you for the third time that evening. Your fluttering core cutting off Loki’s admirations for you and also sending him over his escarpment. 

“I love you too Loki, so much. I~ah fuck you feel so good still.”

Keeping your foreheads still pressed together, you stayed like that until your breathing mellowed out. Waiting for the right moment to speak again. Pulling out of you Loki watched as his seed was spilling out of you due to the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Now look at that. This is something I could get used to seeing. But more importantly, I want to ensure that your womb takes all of me.”

Taking his nimble fingers, Loki was gently pushing back his cum inside of your cunt. You were so sensitive that each time his fingers grazed your now wrecked hole, your body reacted with a quick shake and the tightening of your stomach. Your eyes kept halfway rolling into the back of your head, the overstimulation turning into something of immense ecstasy. 

“Come up here Loki.”

Sliding his way up towards the head of the bed where you were, you nestled into his chest. His skin still tacky with sweat, your bodies melding together like human puzzle pieces. Your hand was drawing mindlessly on his chest and eventually found its way to his face where you were thumbing his cheek. 

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what- of course, I did. Y/N you know that lying to you is something I find absurd. And of the few things, I refuse to lie about, intimacy is one of them. Do not fill yourself with unnecessary doubt.”

Turning his face to yours you shared another kiss with him. Tender and full of passion you were silently telling him that you understood and that the feelings were reciprocated. Pulling away from you he sat up.

“Perhaps we should run ourselves a bath. Clean ourselves up before we grow too tired to think about anything else.”

Sighing you pushed yourself up to sit upright on the bed. Lightly nodding Loki stood from the bed and was waiting for you before moving any further. You looked up at him with pleading eyes

“Carry me?”

With a roll of his eyes and a click of his tongue he begrudgingly picked you up bridal style and walked you to the bathroom of his quarters.

“You are incongruous.”

“Perhaps I am, but for us, it works.”

Setting you down on the edge of the tub Loki began drawing the bath. Steam rising up from the heat of the water. You knew it would sting on the way in but the initial burn would morph into relaxation and ease your now tense muscles. Reaching for the soap on the corner of the bath closest to you, you walked over shakily to the spout of water so that bubbles would form before the two of you got in. 

Once the water hit an appropriate height Loki helped you in, already aware of the weakness in your legs. Settling in behind you he began washing you down with one of the many washrags in the bathroom.

“You know, we’re going to have to get this out in the open a lot sooner than we were planning. Especially if you are to have my child.”

“I know. I was thinking about that. Give my silence. Let us wait till morning to run through our thoughts about how to go about this. I want to enjoy this moment with you without the worry of what’s to come next.” 

“Understood my love.”

With Loki having the last word, the two of you shared amorous silence while relaxing in the tub. Enjoying each other’s company, the silence between the two of you was necessary to think about what was going to happen next in the chaos of your life. Finishing up in the bath, you two dried off and headed off to bed. Wrapped in each other’s arms, you drifted off to sleep rather quickly. Your body exhausted from the night's affairs. Not knowing that this would be the last night you recognized what peace could ever look like.

[calpalirwin]

Think of Me

Summary: You hope the war doesn’t make Bucky forget about you. 

A/N: I’m deep in my T-Swift phase again. Deal with it 😎

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

__

You made pleasant conversation with the bartender as you sat on your stool. “You think this is the night a handsome man finally asks me to dance?” you pondered aloud.

“If they do, will you stop bothering me?” Charlie asked in a playful tone.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here bothering you?”

“Probably my actual job before the boss fires me.”

You laughed, then sighed, drumming your fingers on the bartop. “Seriously though, Charlie. Is it me? You would tell me if it was me, right?”

The bartender shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that.”

“Well, why are you friends with me?”

“You tip well.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned, throwing your straw wrapper at him. 

“Look, it could very well be that you’re the only dame in this place talking with the bartender. That doesn’t exactly make a fella feel confident in approaching you.”

“Oh, so it’s you? Good to know,” you laughed again.

“I am very intimidating,” he winked, puffing out his chest as his eyes spotted a man walking your way. “But apparently not intimidating enough,” he whispered, nodding his head behind you before going down the bar to help another customer. 

“Charlie!” you hissed as someone behind you cleared their throat. “Excuse me, miss?”

You turned on your stool to look at the stranger. He was dressed simply in a crisp button down shirt tucked into dark dress pants, a suit jacket draped over his arm. His brown hair was cut neatly atop his head, and his face was clean-shaven, giving you an unfiltered view of his strong jawline. Soft blue eyes searched your face as they waited for an answer, equally soft pink lips parted slightly on a perfect mouth. “Yes?” you asked, smiling at the man.

“I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?”

“Me?” he asked, pink dusting his cheeks.

“And who’s me?”

“James,” he introduced, offering you his hand.

Instead of shaking it, you used it to rise to your feet, pulling him towards the dance floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughed, happily trailing after you. “Do I get to know your name, pretty girl?”

“Let’s see how well you dance first, James,” you winked, spinning slightly to face him, looping your hands behind his neck.

James rested his hands lightly on your hips, guiding the both of you to the beat of the music the band was playing.

“So, James,” you said, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “This isn’t a pity dance is it?”

“A pity dance?” he questioned in confusion.

“Well yes. It’s quite strange, after all. I complain to Charlie about how much I’d like for someone to ask me to dance, and suddenly you appear? Tad coincidental, isn’t it?”

“It is because I can assure you of two things. 1.) I don’t ask girls to dance out of pity. 2.) I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage for the better part of an hour, from where I was sitting over there,” he nodded his head towards a booth near the back of the bar, “so there’s no way I could’ve heard whatever you were talking to Charlie about.”

“Good,” you decided, liking his answer. “You should ask me to dance more often,” you added as the song ended and you unlooped your hands from his neck, his own hands staying on your waist.

“Will you tell me your name if I do?”

“Y/N.”

“Keep dancing with me, Y/N.”

~~~

You kept dancing with James right up until the night before he left for basic training. “I’m gonna miss you, James,” you told him, as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat mark time.

“3 months will go faster than you think, and we can write all the time.”

“3 months, and then you go off to war for God knows how long.”

“But I’ll get furloughed for a bit before I leave. And then we can keep writing to each other.”

“You won’t forget about me will you?”

“How could I forget you when you’re all I ever think about?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked up at him, “You really think of me?”

“All the time,” he nodded.

“Thinks about you, talks about you. It’s all Buck does,” Steve teased from his seat nearby, causing the three of you to laugh.

“Buck,” you repeated, the nickname foreign on your tongue no matter how often you had heard Steve call James “Buck” since you met the smaller man. “I don’t think I could ever call you anything other than ‘James’.”

“That’s fine. I like it when you call me ‘James’.”

“That’s a high compliment considering he usually hates being called ‘James.’ Makes him feel like he’s about to get into trouble.”

“Cuz usually when someone’s calling me ‘James,’ I am in trouble.”

“That’s because you are trouble,” both you and Steve told him.

“Mmm, but you love me that way,” James told you specifically.

“That I do,” you agreed wholeheartedly.

“3 months,” he promised. “3 months and we’ll be right back here. And until then I’ll be missing you like crazy, and thinking about you every day.”

“You better, James Barnes.”

“How could I do anything else? But you two gotta promise me something.”

“Anything,” you nodded while Steve answered with “Promise what, Buck?”

“That you’ll look after each other for me. And that you won’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“That’s two promises,” you pointed out while Steve asked, “How can we when you’re taking all the stupid with you?”

James laughed. “I’m serious. Look after each other and nothing stupid. Promise me.”

“We promise.”

~~~

Dearest James,

Hope basic training is treating you well. Things are going okay here. Steve won’t admit it, but he misses you a lot. We still go to Charlie’s Bar, but without you it doesn’t feel the same. Even when Steve tries to be nice and asks me to dance. But dancing’s not the same if it’s not with you. Hope you’re thinking of us.

All my love,

Y/N

You pressed your lips to the paper, staining it with a lipstick mark, before sealing the letter.

Dearest Y/N,

It’s hot and miserable here. And there’s no pretty girls to dance with. At least you have a dancing partner. Although, I wouldn’t recommend dancing with Steve. Don’t tell him, but he’s lousy at it. But lousy dancing is still better than no dancing, and even if it’s not the same, you should try because I know how happy dancing makes you. Just be sure to save me a dance for when I get home.

Thinking of you always,

James

You inhaled the spritz of his cologne that clung to the letter, clutching the paper tightly in your hands.

~~~

You sat quietly next to Steve in the dark movie theater, watching the advertisement for the war on the screen. “Who cares?” a voice a few rows up scoffed at the screen. “Play the movie already.”

You and Steve shared a look, and you shook your head as Steve leaned forward slightly. “Hey, you wanna show some respect?” he asked in a whisper.

“Let’s go! Get on with it! Hey, just start the cartoon!” the man continued to yell, causing more people to look his way.

“Hey, you wanna shut up?” Steve tried again, making his voice louder.

The man rose from his seat, turning to look at you and Steve. “Steve, don’t,” you pleaded.

“You wanna take this outside, pal?” the man asked.

“I’d like for you to go outside, so I can watch my movie in peace, yes,” Steve answered.

“C’mon, tough guy, let’s go then.”

“Steve!” you hissed as both men headed for the exit. Reluctantly, you got up to follow. “This has just been a misunderstanding,” you tried to defuse, shielding your eyes from the sunshine outside the theater. “Let’s just all go back inside a- Oh!” Your sentence ended abruptly in a gasp as the man punched Steve square in the face, sending him clattering into some trash cans cluttering the alley. “Okay, that was unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” Steve told you as he staggered to his feet, raising his fists defensively. “Go back inside.”

“You should listen to your boyfriend, sweetheart,” the man sneered, hitting Steve again.

“We’re friends,” both you and Steve said, as Steve grabbed a trash can lid to use as a shield. “And you’re both being ridiculous. You were being very rude inside, and all my friend did was ask you to stop. There’s no reason for you to h- Oh, my God!” you shrieked in outrage and shock as the man ripped away the trash can lid and hit Steve for a third time.

“Your friend just doesn’t know when to give up, does he, sweetheart?”

“Says the man who just hit him three times for no good reason!”

“I can do this all day,” Steve panted, blood smeared in the corner of his mouth from a busted lip. He raised his fists, taking his own swing at the man who easily blocked it and hit Steve for the fourth time.

As Steve fell face first into the trash cans, you shrieked again, hoping someone could hear the disagreement and could offer some help.

“Hey!” A man in a soldier’s uniform came jogging down the alleyway, grabbing the man by his bicep and pulling him backwards, away from Steve. “Pick on someone your own size.”

“James!” you cried out happily.

“One second, doll,” he told you as the man took a swing at him and missed. James wasted no time in hitting the man back, then kicking him as he hobbled away. “You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched,” James told Steve, helping the smaller man back onto his feet.

“I had him on the ropes,” Steve said.

“No, you didn’t,” both you and James chuckled.

“When did you get back?” Steve asked.

“This morning. Was on my way to Charlie’s Bar when I saw neither of you were home.”

“When do you go back?” you asked.

“Can I get a proper hello first?” he asked, flashing you a smile.

“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, crashing into him, and feeling his arms wrap around you tightly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How long do we have together?”

“I ship off to London next week.”

You sighed, your body slumping against his.

“Hey,” he soothed. “C’mon, don’t do that yet. We have a whole week first. Let’s make the best of it, hmm?”

“Okay,” you sniffed, giving him a nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” he beamed proudly. “Now c’mon. You owe me a dance. And an explanation for why you let Steve try to fight a man twice his size.”

“I tried to stop him,” you giggled, as you and James broke the hug, but he kept one of his arms still wrapped around.

“She did,” Steve agreed, coming to your defense. “But, that guy was out of line.”

“He was,” you confirmed. “Very rude.”

James chuckled. “What am I ever gonna do with the two of you, huh?”

~~~

While you and James spent every spare second of the week together, you found yourself wishing for more as you stood on the pier with him, the ship waiting to take him away. “Promise you’ll write when you can,” you said sternly as your bottom lip quivered.

“Of course,” he promised, his hands cradling your face, thumbs catching the stray tears as they fell.

“And that you’ll think of me all the time, and you’ll-” the words spilled from your mouth, before a sob broke free.

“I’ll come home,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna want to dance with my favorite girl when I come back. So you save me a dance, okay?”

The foghorn from the ship went off, signalling it was time to go. “Come home to me, or so help me, James, I swear-”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead, before looking over your shoulder at Steve. “Look after each other for me.”

Steve nodded, as you pressed your lips into James’ “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I love you too, my favorite girl,” he said, giving you a searing kiss.

~~~

The letters were further and farther in between as James traveled with his regiment across Europe, which you supposed was the for the best as it meant he couldn’t tell how much you actually cried over him.

It got worse when Steve left in James’ footsteps, finding his own way to join the war effort despite all his rejections.

Brooklyn never felt so lonely, and passing Charlie’s Bar was a painful stab in your side. So you packed what few belongings you had and moved out of state, and away from the familiar streets that reminded you of him. You had the thought of writing a new letter, to send it that last address you had for James, so he would have your new one as well. But remembering how your last letter had gone unanswered, you didn’t wait to feel the hope and disappointment of waiting for the mail.

You settled into your new James-less life, the memories of the single summer you had shared living both in your head and in the shoebox of letters under your bed.

It was hard not to find it all bittersweet. A 4 month long affair spent mostly apart, but the nights spent dancing, or laying against his chest were still the best moments of your life. The greatest love story of your life with no clear ending. And as much as you moved on, you didn’t, still clinging on to the hope that’d he keep his word of coming back to you. After all, he’d always kept his word before.

When the war drew to a close, and stories of soldiers coming home started covering the front pages, you packed your things again, and moved back to Brooklyn. As you settled into your old apartment, you made yourself a promise that you’d give it a year. If you and James didn’t find each other after that, then you’d leave Brooklyn and never look back.

Part of you felt foolish as you walked the old familiar streets to James’ old apartment, a final letter clutched in your hand. There was no guarantee he was home, or even if this was his home anymore. Still, it was one of three places you trusted that he would go to if he had returned home.

You walked up to the familiar door, rapping lightly against it as you pushed the letter through the mail slot. You waited for a beat, listening for footsteps. Hearing nothing, you turned around, almost knocking into a man carrying a bag of groceries as you left the building, and headed for Charlie’s Bar.

“Y/N?!” Charlie called out in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

“Hi, Charlie,” you said, taking up your old seat on the stool at the bar. “How have things been?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Pouring drinks, and watching folks fall in love. I heard you moved out of Brooklyn after Buck and Steve headed to Europe.”

“I did. Just moved back the other day.”

“Forever hopeful, huh?”

“He found me here once. Think he can do it again?”

“Worth a shot.”

Meanwhile, after sidestepping a woman who almost knocked into him, James set a bag of groceries on his counter. Not remembering hearing his door click shut properly, he went back, noticing the white envelope on his floor. Frowning, he picked it up. Then, he stopped breathing as he recognized the looped scrawl of “James” decorating the back of the envelope. With shaking fingers, he tore it open.

Dearest James,

When you think of dancing, I hope you think of my favorite song. Maybe you’ll turn your radio on, and it’ll take you back to that place. I hope it does.

When you think of happiness, I hope you think of that little black dress, and my head on your chest.

Mostly, I hope you still think of me the same way I still think of you.

Am I still your favorite girl?

Y/N

The stamp of your lipstick was placed next to your name. James blinked, having to read it a second time, not believing it the first time. Then, he was cramming the letter in his pocket and running out of the apartment, and across Brooklyn.

First he went to your apartment, knuckles rapping wildly against your door. “Y/N! It’s me! It’s James! C’mon, answer the door!” he called out, chest heaving as he continued to pound on the door.

The door next to yours opened instead, and a woman that wasn’t you looking at him curiously. “Everything alright, sir?”

“The girl who lives here. Have you seen her?”

“She left about forty minutes ago.”

James slammed his fist into your door, swearing under his breath. “C’mon, Y/N, where are you?” he asked himself, begging his mind to give him the answer. The letter! The place! What was the place? Think, think! “Oh, please still be there,” he prayed, before he took off running again.

James was sure his heart was going to jump from his chest as he pushed open the door to Charlie’s Bar, palms resting against his thighs as he doubled over to catch his breath. When he straightened, he was hit with a wave of deja vu, spotting you sitting on your barstool talking with Charlie, your laugh ringing out. With a breathless grin, he walked over. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?” you asked, turning to take James in, a playful smile on your face as tears glistened in your eyes.

“Me?”

“And who’s me?”

“The man who’s always thinking about you because you’re his favorite girl.”

“I’ve missed you, James.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll,” he said, grabbing your hand in his. “Now come dance with me.”

__

Tag List

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[trashcanfanfics]

I'm loving this Val's favorite stuff. Can you do something about him drunk confessing after another breakup with Vox?

Honestly, these are making me grow a soft spot for Val, and I'm a lil mad about it cuz I used to hate him so much lol

Btw, I listened to the song "The Moth Pimp (Business as Usual)" by Chroma9 and yoooo. Super good ngl

You were walking down the hallway of the studio, you had gotten a text from one of the other actors that Val was acting unusual but everyone else was too scared to ask him what was going on. So that left you, because everyone knew he wouldn't hurt you or even get mad.

At the door to his office, there was loud music and was that the stench of alcohol? You opened the door to see your boss splayed out over his pink velvet chaise and half of the floor. Not even in the way you'd expect, his upper half was on mostly on the floor while his legs were thrown over the back with his discarded jacket. You look at his bare chest and covered legs. Actually being able to see them now and noticed that he does, in fact, wear pants. Marcene owes you twenty bucks.

"Uh, Boss?" Your voice made his head whip over towards you. The tears in his eyes made you step back out of reflex. His frown deepened.

"Y/n, am I ugly?" Jesus Christ he was drunk. Your gaze went from his position back to his face before you sighed and entered the room fully. The door had a gentle click as it closed.

"That's a matter of preference," you spoke carefully, not knowing if he'd become angry at your response. You couldn't deny that you, yourself, found Valentino attractive, but you're not going to inflate his ego more. Even if he was drunk. There's a chance that he could remember this. Valentino looked contemplative.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" Ah fuck. You sighed and made your way over to him before helping him to sit up properly.

"No." This made a drunken smile spread across his face as he leaned on you. You grunted slightly fro his weight. He wrapped all four arms around you and pulled you into his lap.

"You think I'm sexty?" His breath on your neck caused a blush to bloom across your face. He burped and the butterflies in your stomach were exchanged for disgust. You wiggled out of his grasp and picked up the empty bottles. How much did he drink?

"I never said that." You threw them in the trash before picking up his hat and placing it on his, very cluttered, desk. He really doesn't keep things clean, huh. Out of reflex, and slight nervousness with the situation, you moved the hat to the chair and began to organize the desk.

"Vox broked up with me." The statement made you look up from your task. It's understandable why he'd be drunk, then. You'd originally thought he was daydrinking again. "Said-" he hiccuped "-said that I don' love him anymore."

"Aw, well, sooner or later he'll realize that you do, don't worry." You furrowed your brows as annoyance flooded your system. Vox was such an ass to Val that you lowkey hoped they wouldn't get back together again.

"He's right, though." He put his face in his upper hands as the other two clutched at the chaise. "i don' love him anymore." You raised a brow in confusion.

"Well, good for you, that off and off again stuff is toxic anyways." You blurted it before you could stop yourself. Usually you kept your opinions about Val's relationships to yourself, but occasionally you slip up. He looked up at you with awe.

"Yeah, you're right!" He pointed at you. "He was bad for me! But you know who I think'd be good?" You went back to organizing his desk, humming in question as you finished. The hat was placed back on the desk in a way that didn't disturb the nicely stacked papers.

"Who?" You looked back to him to see him leaning over the desk, placing his lower arms on the desk, ruining your stacks, and the upper ones grabbed your face. It hurt slightly but you ignored it while looking into his solid pink eyes. You just now noticed that his shades were no where to be seen.

"You." You blinked at the word. What. He leaned in with a lovestruck look on his face. You blinked again before pulling back.

"Boss-"

"Val."

"Val, you're drunk." No matter how much you want to feel his lips on yours right now, you won't sacrifice your morals. He was drunk, not in the right headspace. "You could only be saying this because of misplaced feelings after a break up." You pushed him back, but his grip on you was firm.

"I like when you say my name. Say it again?" He leaned back in, looking at your lips. You were panicking, you can't let this go any further...Maybe if you knocked him out?

"Valentino, let go of me right now." Your voice was harsh enough to make his gaze snap back up to your eyes. He immediately let go at the stern look you gave him. "Thank you." You rubbed your sore cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry, babycakes..." Tears filled his eyes again and it felt like there was a knife twisting in your gut. He looked down at the desk and sniffed. "I just love you a lot...I've been thinking about you nonstop for months now." You stared at him.

"I think you need to take a nap, Bo-Val." You rounded the desk and grabbed his lower right hand, gently leading him back to the chaise. Genlty, you pushed him onto it and got him to lay down on his left side. The music was turned down and the trash bin was picked up from it's place by the desk to be placed next to Val's head in case he needed to throw up. Finally, you threw his coat back over him to act as a blanket. He blinked up at you with the expression of a little kid being put to bed.

"You're too good to me." He yawned and snuggled deeper into the coat. You pat his head and give his forehead a tiny kiss before you realized what you were doing. The blush from earlier made its way back and you rushed out the door to go back home and finish your day off.

~*~

Val woke with a splitting headcahe. What happened? He sat up, holding head in one hand while the other three looked for his phone. Foggy memories swirled in his mind. Y/n coming in and straightening up his desk, their face close to his, his confession. His eyes flew open.

Oh fuck.

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 7 - Memories

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, was it a memory?, 2.6k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

“Don’t look down ‘cuz we’re still rising up right now...and even if we hit the ground...we’ll still fly, keep dreaming like we’ll live forever but live it like it’s now or never…”

Willie bobbed along as the song played from the tinny radio speaker outside the bodega. Sheldon was curled on his lap, purring contentedly as Willie pet him absentmindedly.

“You gonna take any chamoy candy, amigo?” Escobar asked, peeking his head out the door.

Willie shook his head.

“Not tonight.”

As Escobar disappeared again, Willie kept nodding to the beat of the song. It wasn’t exactly like being at a concert, but he had been happily surprised to hear the local station playing their songs - they’d been repeating them, in fact. By now he’d been able to assign faces to the voices singing different parts, and hearing Alex’s come through in the harmonies and the occasional solo was comforting.

“We ain’t searching for tomorrow…’cuz we got all we need today…”

The lines were strangely fitting. If Willie could’ve chosen how to spend his last day on Earth, he knew he would’ve spent it just like he had yesterday without question. If only that could make the Alex-sized hole hurt a little less than it had today.

“Can we turn it back to my station now?” Escobar called out. “We’ve heard the same songs, like, four times.”

“It’s Alex’s band, though,” Willie contested. The radio was already playing rancheras. As he stood up, Sheldon leapt off of his lap and went to eat more food.

“Que tiene este muchacho, anyway?” Escobar asked. “You knew him for, like, five seconds and he didn’t leave you a number.”

There was no way to properly express in words the feeling he got about Alex. Their interactions weren’t based on words, even when they had spoken.

“You don’t have to get it, Escobar,” he said, grabbing his board and helmet from leaning against the counter. He hadn't let himself hope it would magically last forever, but the memory was worth it. “I’ll see you later.”

“Adios,” the man said, sweeping up the store and singing along to his music. “Una piedra en el camino...me enseño que mi destino...era rodar y rodar…”

Shaking his head and smiling, Willie kicked off into the late night. He’d spent all morning cleaning hotel rooms, and he tried to remember which number had been the one for Alex and his band, but he never figured it out. The rest of the day, he’d run errands for Caleb and let the one memory he had regained play on loop in his mind. There was nothing that specifically indicated that the man in the truck was his dad, but he simply knew it was. They had the same squint when they smiled.

He hadn’t bothered telling Caleb about it. It would’ve been irrelevant, since he’d apparently been in the foster care system for quite some time. Those were some of the important details he’d gotten from him, but Caleb was rather stingy about the rest - he’d said it was so Willie could live unbiased and make himself into whoever he wanted. It didn’t feel that way, though. Eventually Willie had stopped trying to weasel things out of him and accepted that he might never regain his memories. Of course, it was different now that he knew they could return.

The wind in his hair was nice, but lacked something he couldn’t put a finger on. As he came upon a large home, he skated onto the driveway around the back. He was headed past the pool in the backyard toward his shed and was surprised by a sudden voice from the water.

“William, I’ve asked you so many times not to skate around the pool,” Caleb said, wading over from where he had been doing some laps. Slowing to a stop and picking his board up, Willie gave him an apologetic nod, continuing toward the shed.

“Wait,” he heard from behind. Turning, he saw Caleb climb out of the pool and move toward him.

“You’ve been running around all day, so I’m sure you want some rest. I’ve just been worried about where you go when it’s so late. That’s two nights in a row. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

Put on the spot, everything went blank in his mind. What was there to worry about? Did he know about Sheldon? Even if he did, it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong keeping the cat at the bodega.

“Not anything to tell,” he replied, trying to mask the strange guilt that had arisen. “Just been skating around.”

Caleb looked down at him, and Willie could never tell what was making those gears turn in his head. He knew he was just looking out for him, but sometimes he just wanted not to give some kind of report at the end of the day like he was doing business.

“I just think about what would happen if you were out there and something were to hurt you,” Caleb told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Or someone. Wouldn’t want another accident.”

Willie nodded solemnly. Caleb’s tone was serious, but for the first time he just felt that it was...insincere. His stomach flipped at the thought and he drove it down into the depths of his mind. That was an awful thing to think about the person who literally provided everything for him, especially when he wasn’t blood-related.

“I’m being careful, I promise,” he said, not meeting the man’s eyes.

“I’ll take your word,” Caleb said. He let go of Willie’s shoulder and strolled back toward the pool.

Walking to the shed, Willie shut the door behind him and confusion swept over his whole being. His dad’s face rose to the front of his mind again. If only he knew more about him to compare the two men, then he could understand why he felt so strangely about Caleb. Looking around the shed, he wondered if an answer could be found.

It was big enough for his bed, some shelves and a desk, with a small closet and bathroom. Apparently he had been living in there instead of the house even before his accident. In his first memory of seeing it, it was the bare necessities and nothing else. While Willie still wasn’t much to keep lots of clutter, he had dozens of sketches that he’d put up on the walls to make it feel more at home. It was quiet and thankfully Caleb didn’t bother him too often in there.

Sitting at the desk, he picked up a pencil and opened to a blank page in his sketchbook. Slowly shaping out a face, he tried his best to remember the details as clearly as he could. Willie wanted it to be as close to reality as possible, even though it wasn’t his usual drawing style. That way if his memory slipped, he could have something to keep him steady. So far the best thing about it was the eyes, but it wasn’t hard because all he had to do was check his own face in the mirror every once in a while. The smile was a little more crooked and wrinkly, and it took several attempts, but he was determined to get it right. He knew it was probably a good idea to get some sleep, since he had a full day of work in the morning, but this was more important.

Hours into the drawing, making sure everything was as close as he could get, Willie looked down at the portrait of his dad, steering wheel in hand, happy as could be. It was a really nice image, and if this were the only way he would ever remember him, Willie was glad it was happy. Checking the time, it was a little past three in the morning. He’d probably hate himself later for staying up so late, but it didn’t make him any less proud of his work. Aside from preserving his memory, it had been a great artistic challenge.

Finally climbing into bed, Willie tried to focus on something else. He brought Alex’s eyes to the forefront of his mind and let himself get lost in the soft crashing of the waves again. It had been rhythmic, which was so fitting for Alex. Allowing the rhythm to repeat continuously, he eventually nodded off to sleep.

Sirens blared and red and blue lights surrounded his vision. Willie was lying on the pavement, not moving and fading in and out of lucidity. The pain in his head was overwhelming. For a few moments, he stayed that way, watching the lights flash indefinitely. Slowly, he watched as all the lights and sirens pulled away, and above his face, the front bumper of a car came in view. A man that he couldn’t see clearly appeared, moving backwards, going from the side of the car to kneeling over Willie’s motionless body in a panic.

After a few moments, the man went back to the car in the same backwards fashion, and Willie’s body lifted in the air. His vision tumbled and he made contact with the car a few times, and when his head hit the pain vanished. Strangely, he landed perfectly on his board and it was like watching the city in reverse. Aware this was a dream, he felt so puzzled by the whole thing. This was a part of the city he could’ve sworn he’d never been through before. Willie had his corners that he’d memorized, but Vegas was big enough to confuse him still.

The backwards skating seemed to be endless, until finally he was running back into Caleb’s home. Caleb was yelling, and Willie couldn’t make out what he was saying at all. Then suddenly they were at a social worker’s office, and Willie looked down at a file with his picture on it. He couldn’t make out anything it said, but he simply sat there as Caleb and the social worker blabbed in backwards gibberish.

The scene changed again, and Willie found himself sitting in the shed, crying. He was repeating a name but it made no sense. A deep loneliness filled his entire body and a strange force seemed to try to compress him into as small a space as possible. The tears and the shaking only intensified, ringing loudly in his ears. Everything was miserable, overwhelming, and he just kept crying out into the dark.

Willie opened his eyes and sat up in his bed. Looking around his room, there was too little light to make out any shapes, and after blinking his eyes he found they were wet. Huddling his knees into his chest, he just sat there in his confusion and fear, breathing in and out. Had those been memories? It was so hard to tell, especially since watching everything in reverse had been so trippy. If they had been, he wondered if they were warped in any fashion. Who would have their memories return through a dream in reverse, anway? The frustrating thing about amnesia was that it had very few absolutes and every case was different.

A pit of anger grew in his chest. Willie felt like some higher power was having fun at his expense. The tears that fell were more from quiet fury than pain. Glancing over at his desk, he saw the drawing of his dad smiling back at him again. Unfolding himself and laying down on his side, Willie stared at the picture and let the tears run until either his eyes dried up or he fell asleep again, whichever came first.

Loud banging on his door was what woke him up. Rising groggily from his bed, he opened the door to find Quetzal, one of the girls from the diner.

“You just woke up?” she was saying. “Come on, Willie, Caleb doesn’t know I rushed over here to get you, you better hurry up.”

Sighing wordlessly, Willie pulled on some clothes, followed Quetzal to her car and clambered inside.

“You’ve been off the past couple of days, you okay?”

Willie took in a deep breath and tried to blink himself more awake as they drove to the diner.

“Just in a funk, that’s all,” he breathed. “Thanks for coming to get me, though.”

“Let’s just pray we don’t get caught.”

“We won’t get caught, he’s doing some kind of new deal today. I heard him on the phone a while ago about some record label he was thinking of buying.”

“A record label? How many businesses does the guy own now, like five?”

“I stopped keeping track. Anyway, Dolores is probably managing today.”

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed. “You had me so worried when you didn’t show up on time. I was ready to get fired for leaving during my shift. At least we don’t have to worry about it now.”

Willie didn’t respond. He knew Quetzal was one of those people who would go out on a limb for anyone, but it still surprised him when she did it for him. He never felt deserving. As they parked at the diner and hurried out of the car, he shook his head. It wasn’t always successful but he always hoped it worked like an Etch-A-Sketch, to get rid of the many things cluttering up his brain.

That was it. Enter the kitchen, punch in, grab an apron, and he was in his corner by the dishwasher again. He ignored the eyes of everyone else who clearly wanted to express their upset by his tardiness.  He was there now, right? Heaven forbid. Willie’s mind, of course, only remained cleared from the shaking for a few minutes. As he got into the groove of spraying and moving things into the industrial trays, he tried to remember more details of the dream, but most had been forgotten. All that was left were sirens and lights.

He’d walked back home at the end of his long shift, since he hadn’t taken his board like usual in the morning. That also meant he couldn’t go to the bodega for lunch, and he desperately needed to check on Sheldon. Willie had peeked into the house and called to see if Caleb was home at all. His own voice echoed back followed by silence. Taking that as a confirmation the man was still busy, he gathered his board and helmet and made his way out to the street.

The wind wasn’t its usual soothing sensation against his face. Willie knew he was tired, but was disappointed to feel that the one thing that felt most freeing to him wasn’t doing its job. It should’ve been enough to lose his thoughts to the sound of the low roll from the wheels, only interrupted by the gentle clacks here and there. There was too much noise inside of him. Suddenly, he understood why Alex had chosen to play drums.

Sheldon was already pattering toward him as he came through the doorway. Scooping the cat into his arms, he held him close and stroked his fur in an attempt to find some comfort. When he started purring, Willie made a little sigh of relief.

“Busy day?” Escobar asked as he organized a shelf.

Willie only nodded. Sheldon was rubbing his head against his face, and it did more to soothe him than the wind.

“Sorry I didn’t come for lunch,” he apologized. “I haven’t been doing my part for Sheldon and I owe you.”

“I would like it if you could be around more,’ Escobar said. “But he’s a pretty good cat, so it isn’t too much, amigo.”

Nodding again, Willie finally heard the music playing in the background. Was it…?

“I thought you were tired of their songs,” he commented.

Escobar shrugged.

“Eh, I had an idea you wanted to listen to them. And they’re not all too bad.”

A surprised giggle came from Willie’s throat, and he smiled for probably the first time that day. He went to give Sheldon some food and let his mind replace the red and blue lights with soft green eyes.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-One: Raindrops ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another early Winter day...another bout of rain.

Waking slowly, Hinata peers out from her bed, blankets brought up to her nose. Unlike the chill outside, her room is nice and cozy, the temptation to linger in bed a while longer strong indeed. But eventually she stirs, slipping out from the sheets and making to dress. Tank and shorts are exchanged for a wooly sweater dress. Combined with tights and boots, she’s ready for her day.

The space upstairs isn’t the biggest - much like a studio apartment. The kitchen is tiny, combined with a place to sit and eat. A couch and a desk in a corner serve for as much of a living room as she can manage. Everything is a theme of white and lilac, little space left over beyond the necessities. But given that the shop takes up the entirety of the downstairs, there’s only so much space here to work with.

Not that she minds. Hinata’s always been a bit of a...compact person. While not against open spaces, she just...doesn’t have a use for them. Each square foot has a purpose here, and there’s less room for clutter or a need to be cleaned.

A win in her book.

Breakfast is a simple affair: eggs boiled yesterday are peeled and sliced on top of toast with a little salt and pepper, black tea with a small dollop of honey helping to wash it down as she checks her phone. The news, as is typical, offers only dreary, depressing topics. Her Facebook is full of people presenting only their best sides. Hardly realistic, and inspiring more insecurity than happiness.

But she’s never really been the sort to linger on such things. The social media she has is mostly just to keep in touch with people. The connection and yet distance is just perfect for her. She chats with friends from high school when it’s convenient, but doesn’t have to sit through several hours of in-person interaction that just drains her more than it satisfies her.

Once she’s at least part way caught up with the ways of the world, Hinata tidies up after herself before heading downstairs, unlocking the door at the bottom of the stairwell that leads to the back of the shop.

As always, the smell of flowers hits her like a very pleasant ton of bricks, and a smile blooms over her face. Everything is just as she left it the night before. Shelves of supplies are fully stocked, her arrangements of plants near the windows to entice passersby to come in and take a closer look. The floor was swept before bed, and the lights come on to bathe the room in a pleasant ivory hue.

While some people drudge on in their day to day lives, Hinata counts herself very lucky to have a job she loves every day.

Having twenty minutes before it’s time to open, she does one last sweep of her inventory, making sure nothing is empty or misplaced. The coolers holding cut and pre-arranged flowers hum in the quiet, and Hinata uses the last bit of time to water the plants in the windows. Raindrops slither down the panes, warping her view to the outside like a watercolor painting. The tones beyond are mostly dreary, greyed out by the overcast weather.

But Hinata loves the rain. And Winter as a whole, even if it means most plants are dead or sleeping. In here, and in the attached greenhouse, she gets to be surrounded by them all year round. And help others enjoy them, too!

Just as she finishes, the clock strikes nine, and she flips the sign in the door to, “Open”.

Of course, she doesn’t expect many walk-ins. This time of year, most of her patronage comes online, or on the phone: people ordering bouquets, for the most part. As much as she loves arranging flowers, it does make her sad not to see more potted plants sold. After all, cut flowers only last so long. Pretty and eye-catching...but so quick to wither. A bit of a waste, really.

But not everyone can handle a full-time plant, of course. And she’d rather someone unable use cut flowers than let a live plant fade.

Checking her website in the meantime, Hinata finds a handful of new orders, moving them to her tablet as she gets to work creating the arrangements. Most probably won’t come to pick them up until tomorrow, as per her warning to wait at least twenty-four hours. But she might as well get them done now, just in case something else comes up to -

Jingle!

Coming up a bit short as the bell over the door rings, Hinata blinks wide eyes in surprise. A customer! Given the rain, she’d assumed few would bother to come in!

A man stands by the door, shaking off his umbrella just outside before closing it and stepping fully inside. He gives the shop a curious once over before spying her by the counter.

“Hello,” she greets, giving a smile. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh...looking for a plant…”

As always, Hinata withhold a small snort at the comment. Given he’s come to a flower shop, that much is...typically obvious. “Of course! Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Not really? I...don’t know much about them, in all honesty,” he replies, a hand at his neck.

“May I ask what the occasion is…?”

“Just a bit of a pick-me-up for my mom. She’s got those Winter blues, y’know? And she always has a garden in the Summer, so...I thought maybe having something in the house would give her something to do.”

At that, Hinata perks up. “I see! Does she, um...have any favorites?”

“I really don’t know,” he offers, giving a small huff of sheepish laughter. “I barely know what any flowers are regardless.”

“I see...well, what about a favorite color?”

“Well, most of her flowers tend to be bright. Yellow, orange, red...mostly red, I think.”

“Hm…” Hinata moves to the front, looking over her collection. “Amaryllis is usually a good choice. They’re v-very easy to care for, and have very pretty red blooms,” she begins, gesturing to one she has in a dark green pot. “And she can move it outside in the Summer! Every year it will get a little bigger as the bulb grows.”

“...bulb?”

Hinata hesitates for a moment. “...um...sort of like an onion…? It’s a s-structure for the plant underground, and the plant grows up from it. It allows a plant to be a perennial, meaning...it will come back multiple years, rather than just one, like an annual.”

“Oh...well, I guess that will work.”

...she hasn’t shown him anything else, but it seems he’s not picky in the slightest. “All right! Do you like the pot it’s in? I can change it out if not.”

“That should work.”

“Perfect.” Taking the plant from the display, Hinata sets it on the counter and starts ringing up the exchange. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some color in all this dreary weather, huh?”

“Yeah, that was my thinking. Mom’s always been the sort to really dim down during the Winter. She likes the snow when it’s still fresh and pretty, but when it’s just rainy and foggy, it sort of wears on her.”

“Understandable,” Hinata agrees.

“Hey, uh...how long has this shop been here, by the way?”

“Well...let me think…” Hinata pauses, counting the times. “...at least about twenty years?”

“Whoa, seriously?”

“Mhm.” Scanning the barcode, Hinata fiddles with the register. “It was my m-mother’s. She divorced my father when I was very young, and came here. The shop owner employed her, and we lived upstairs. Eventually she managed to buy it. She passed away a few years ago, and...it’s been mine since.”

He suddenly feels rather awkward, shifting his stance a bit at the somber subject. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you…”

“I just, y’know...thought you looked kinda young. I looked online first and saw you run the place.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Huh, me too. Did you go to school here…?”

“I was homeschooled.”

His brows lift. “Wow...so your mom worked and taught you? She must’ve been one hell of a woman.”

That earns a warm but somber smile. “...she was. Her name was Hanako.”

“Guess that explains why I don’t recognize you. What was your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“...oh! It’s Hinata. Hinata Hyūga.”

“I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Nice t’meet you.”

“You too.” Smiling a bit more genuinely, she gives him his total, accepting cash and giving him the proper change. “I h-hope your mother enjoys her flowers!”

“Maybe I’ll come back and let you know how it goes. And uh...see if I need anything else. Uh...do I need anything else?”

“Not for now, no. I keep everyone properly watered and fertilized, but she’ll likely need some plant food and fertilizer once it runs out. And once it gets too b-big for the pot, it’ll need a bigger one. But she should be all set for now!”

“Ah, thanks.” Cradling the pot in one arm, he prepares to open his umbrella with the other. “Have a nice day.”

“You too!” Skirting around the counter, she holds the door open for him, waving as he makes his way down the sidewalk. Huh...he walked…? In this weather?

...what a strange man.

Curious, she pulls her phone from her pocket, doing a little digging through a few friends’ Facebooks. Within a minute, she finds him: a mutual friend of several of her own. Huh...funny how they’ve never crossed paths until now. Of course, her being homeschooled is likely to blame. She knows a few girls her age through her mother’s friendships with their mothers, but otherwise she’s rather...reclusive.

Curiosity piqued, it takes her a moment to remember she was indeed working on something - or, starting to - when he arrived.

Best get back to work.

                                                        .oOo.

     Random modern flower shop AU cuz...I felt like something a lil fluffy lol - also this idea for the family dynamic wouldn't leave me alone. In other words, Hanako leaves Hiashi before having Hanabi, so she doesn't pass from birth complications. She DOES still die a bit young, but gets to properly raise her daughter on her OWN terms.      Might be something neat to explore in a canon setting at some point, too.      Anywho! Sorry for missing last night, I just...had a day that kept piling things on, so I took the evening off to spend some time with my brother. It was a much needed break~ But! I'll be back in a jiffy to post another so I don't fall any further behind! As always, thanks for reading~

[the-raven-sisters]

Chapter Ten

Title: Atlas Falling

Theme Songs: Neptune by Sleeping At Last / Collar Full by Panic! At the Disco

Word Count: 4,606

Warnings: language, insomnia, mention of nightmares and general anxiety, angst

Characters: (OC) Harper Raven, (OC) Maisie Raven, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel

A/N: This is the chapter that i’ve been looking forward to ever since the idea popped in my head, are you ready? Cuz i sure fucking am! I’m thinking SamHarp as their ship name? -mara

A/N: ‘Confirmed dumbass gets what he fucking deserves for putting literal ray of sunshine through some heartbreak shit.’ -Hope

Read Ch 9 and previous mini-chapter here!

Chapter List | Extra Content | Character Roster

Harper sits in a chair near Maisie, laying quietly in one of the guest bedrooms in the bunker. Thoughts of worry run through Harper as she looks at her sister’s sleeping form. Maisie is okay now, she keeps telling herself. She should’ve been there to save Maisie from the djinn. But she wasn’t.

Maisie could’ve died while you were just enjoying the house all to your fucking self, Harper thinks, clenching her fists in her lap. If she closes her eyes long enough, Harper can see Maisie’s bruised and visibly weak form, being cradled in Dean’s arms after he saved her.

The day before

Holding an unconscious Maisie in his arms, Dean kept her close as he carried her to the Impala, while Sam pulled open the back passenger seat. Harper’s truck came flying into the parking lot, barely thrown into park before Harper’s feet hit the ground. Leaving the the driver’s door wide open in her hurry, she sprinted full speed to Dean.

Harper slowed down though, when she was close, afraid to see her sister in such a broken state. Her fists clenched, angry at herself for letting Maisie hunt on her own, and angry at Dean for being the reason she wanted to hunt alone, in the first place. Hot tears welled up in her eyes, staring down Dean.

“If you hadn’t fucking kissed her and ran off–” Harper gritted her teeth, stopping herself from taking her aggression out him. “And if I hadn’t fucking let her go,” she added, looking back at Maisie.

“What the hell does this have to do with me?” Dean shot back, not letting her back down.

“Just put her in the fucking car, I’ll ride with you.” Harper turned to Sam then, ignoring Dean as he placed her inside the Impala. Harper’s expression softened at Sam’s reassuring gaze, steady on her. He took a step closer to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her attention to his gaze.

“She’s fine, just needs some rest,” Sam said, rubbing his hands up and down Harper’s arms. She wanted to hug him, but didn’t give in. Knowing she was on the verge of breaking down, she couldn’t give in without falling apart from relief and guilt in Sam’s arms.

Harper gestured to her truck. “Will you drive her back to the bunker? I want to stay with Maisie.”

Sam nodded and gave her a small smile. “Of course, she’s in good hands.” Harper stared at the Impala for a second too long, lost in dark thoughts. Sam noticed and pulled her out of it. “Hey,” he drew her attention back to him. “It’s not your fault.”

Harper’s expression went dark, and she shook her head. “Yes, it is… but it’s also Dean’s.” She walked away, carefully getting into the back of Baby with Maisie laying across the seats; Dean was already in the driver’s seat, ready to leave.

Sam let out a long sigh. “Try to play nice,” he replied, holding the door open to prevent Harper from closing it before he had the chance to say something. He closed the door and headed to Harper’s truck.

After a few minutes of a silent drive, Dean spoke up. “What do I have to do with… this?”

Harper held Maisie’s head in her lap, playing absent-mindedly with her hair as she stared out window. “I feel like that should be obvious, Dean.”

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Maybe… but tell me anyway.”

Harper let out a heavy sigh, trying to keep her anger in check. “You’ve been fucking with her, and she wanted to clear her head by hunting alone. So I let her, which was a fucking stupid choice on my part. Should’ve just told her to punch you. Did wonders for me.”

Dean’s jaw clenched at the answer. “Alright, guess this is on me.”

“Yeah, but it’s my fault, too.” Harper looked down at Maisie, noting every bruise and cut she could see. Every little bump and bruise was their fault.

Present day

Harper can’t sit here anymore, staring at her recovering sister and remembering every little detail. She couldn’t bear the blame.

Leaving the room as quietly as she came in, Harper starts to wander the halls of the quiet bunker. She isn’t sure what time it is, only that everyone is asleep, except for her. She can’t sleep anymore, not without nightmares, which is why she wanders the halls now, hoping that she will get tired enough to sleep for a few hours. Although the longer she is awake, the more time she has to think about the weight of the secrets on her shoulders, and the anxieties she carries every day.

Eventually Harper pushes the thoughts away as she finds an interesting book from the library, delving into the fictional universe as if her sanity depended on it. Due to her sleep deprivation and intense focus, she didn’t even hear Sam enter the room. He smiles when he sees her reading one of his books, but the happiness fades after he notices she’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday, only more wrinkled. He notes the bags under her eyes and the distress in her expression.

“Harper?” Sam gently grabs her attention; she puts the book the down, watching him as he walks around the table to her.

She gives him the best smile she can muster, which isn’t particularly convincing. “Hey,” Harper replies lamely.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” He asks, concern written on his face, as he sits on the table.

Harper looks away from him. Knowing he won’t like the answer, she doesn’t respond right away. Instead of the straight yes-or-no he wanted, she simply says, “What can I say? This is a good book so far.”

“Harper,” Sam says sharply, and the harshness causes Harper’s eyes to fall back on him. “When’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why the hell are you awake?” Harper immediately pushes back to his question, tension running through her at his tone; she can’t remember the last time she slept longer than four hours.

Sam sighs, dropping his arms back to his sides. “I always run at five-thirty every morning. Why are you awake?” he asks more softly this time, conveying his concern and care for her.

Harper examines Sam’s face, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. Sam sits quietly, waiting for her to decide like he usually does on serious matters; this must be bigger than he originally thought. Harper lets out a sigh, relaxing back in her chair once more. It’s Sam, you can tell him anything, she thinks, pushing herself to speak.

“I can’t sleep,” Harper starts, leaning her forearms against the table and clenching her fists. “Too many nightmares.”

“About what?” Sam prompts her lightly.

She takes a deep breath. “About everything that’s been going on in the last couple of months…” Harper pauses, and Sam’s hand falls gently on her arm, offering some support. “From Ellis, and Piper’s kidnapping, and Maisie… She’s caught up in all of this, too. And I don’t want to add to her stress, so I just…” Her voice trails off, anxiety spiking as she talks.

“Keep it to yourself?” Sam offers, his thumb brushing back and forth on her forearm.

Harper nods. “I can’t tell her about the nightmares, or her–” she cuts herself off, deciding to rephrase what she is about to say. “The, uh, thing our mom told me,” she completes vaguely. She blows out a heavy breath. “She can’t know.” Harper makes eye contact with Sam to convey how adamant she is about the secrecy of this conversation.

“I won’t say anything, I promise.” Sam pauses, as he watches Harper visibly relax. “But can you promise me something?”

Harper eyes him, cautious and curious. “Depends…”

Sam smiles briefly; that response doesn’t surprise him at all. “If you have a nightmare, will you please call me? I don’t care what time it is. You need to let someone help you with it,” he says, watching her expression as she deliberates. Meeting his eyes again, Harper nods. “That also implies that you actually try to sleep,” he adds, and she rolls his eyes, shaking her head. “So, come on.”

Sam hops to his feet, holding onto Harper’s hand, and gives her a gentle tug. She doesn’t move. “I can’t…” Harper mumbles, her free hand unclenching as she feels slightly defeated.

He tugs again. “You can, because you’re going to the Nightmare-Free Zone,” Sam replies with a lighthearted smile.

Harper rolls her eyes. “There’s no such thing, Sam.”

“Of course, there is! Come on.” He pulls on her hand again, but this time, Harper stands up, letting him take her away from the library. She follows him, but stops abruptly when Sam starts to turn the door handle to his room.

“Really, Sam?” Harper says, pulling her hand away from him and crossing her arms.

He gives her a goofy smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Really, Harper.” Sam pushes into his room, leaving her in the hallway; breathing out a sigh, Harper follows him in. His room is relatively clean, except for the bit of clutter on his desk.

Sam pulls out a t-shirt from his dresser and throws it at Harper, who stands only a few feet into his room. “Since you like only wearing a big shirt to bed,” he teases. She responds by simply flipping him off, which causes laughter to roll through Sam. “Do you want shorts or something? This is all about you feeling comfortable and safe,” he adds, more seriously, as he rummages through his dresser again.

Harper fumbles with the black shirt in her hands, feeling awkward. “Um, I could go get my own clothes, you know?”

Sam glances at her, a shy smile on his face; he shrugs. “I like it when you wear something of mine,” he responds quietly before turning back to his dresser. Harper stares at his back, stunned into silence by his comment; a blush creeps over her cheeks. “So, which one?” Sam glances back at her, holding a pair of shorts and sweatpants.

“Uhhh, sweatpants?”

Sam tosses them to her and heads to the door. “I’ll step out so you can change.” With that, he leaves her in his room.

Harper stares at the door, disbelief coursing through her. She just finished telling him about how messed up she is, and he flirts? She couldn’t comprehend it. Pushing those thoughts out of mind, she quickly sheds off yesterday’s clothes, replacing them with Sam’s. After folding her clothes and putting it in a pile near the door, Harper opens it, letting Sam back in.

He nods toward the bed. “Go on, climb in.” Harper complies, settling into the blankets, before watching Sam grab his desk chair and slide it toward her side of the bed; he plops into his seat beside her. “Comfy?” he asks, and Harper makes a show of snuggling into the blankets before nodding. Sam grins. “Good… Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

“You don’t have to. I know you want to go running,” Harper replies, although hoping he will stick around a bit longer.

Sam waves it off. “I can run after. You’re more important.”

A grin spreads over Harper’s face, which she quickly hides behind the blanket. Sam turns off the lamp beside him, and the room goes dark. Sam’s chair creaks as he leans back.

“Good night, Harper,” Sam says quietly.

“Why are you whispering?” Harper mumbles into the pillow.

“Just go to sleep.” The amusement is clear in his tone, and causes Harper to let out a soft laugh.

“Fine… Night, Sam.” Silence falls over them; only their breathing and the occasional squeak of Sam’s chair break the quiet every now and then.

Harper thought her mind would be reeling by the time she laid down after her talk with Sam, but as she lays here, all she can think about is how the pillow smells like him. She relaxes, finding comfort in the scent, and her breathing evens out as she falls asleep.

Sam sits there longer than he would care to admit. He listens to her breathing and her occasional shifting to a more comfortable position. He stays long enough to know she isn’t having a nightmare.

On his run, his thoughts focus on her, and he can’t quite shake them away, not that he wants to. He just wishes he knew how she feels about him, that what’s going on between them isn’t all in his head. But he can’t spring this on her now. Clearly, she has enough on her plate, and he doesn’t want to add to it.

Sam carries these thoughts with him when he returns; he is so lost in thought, that he is surprised to find Dean and Cas making breakfast in the kitchen. Cas is setting the table with plates, while Dean cooks eggs and bacon on the stove.

“Morning,” Dean greets Sam as he walks to the refrigerator for a water bottle.

Sam glances between his brother and Cas. “Uh, hey guys. Make enough for me?” He grabs a water bottle and takes a swig from it.

“Yep,” Dean replies. “Enough for the five of us.”

“Alright, I’m gonna take a shower quickly, then I’ll join you guys,” Sam replies, heading for the exit.

“I’ll grab Harper. Uh, Cas, you wanna check on Maisie?” Dean asks, trying to sound nonchalant, but Sam catches the incertitude in his voice.

Sam stops in the doorway and turns around. He has to say something about Harper, without telling them why. “I’d leave Harper be. She had a hard time falling asleep last night…”

Dean throws a look at Sam, eyebrow raised. “Oh, really? You and H.R. stay up late together?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Not the way you’re thinking.” Dean laughs, turning his focus back to the stove. “I’ll check on her before I shower,” Sam adds before leaving the kitchen and heading toward Harper.

He opens the door to his bedroom, the light in the hallway brightening up the room enough to be able to see. Harper is sound asleep, curled up in his bed. Sam pauses at the end of the bed, looking at her sleeping form, and is unable to help the smile tugging at his mouth. Not wanting to wake her, he quietly grabs fresh clothes out of his dresser before heading out the door. As he closes it, Sam takes one last look at Harper, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes. The smile is stuck on his face as he softly closes the door behind him.

Sam turns, coming face-to-face with Maisie. He is surprised by her sudden presence, and grabs her arm, pulling her away from his door. “What are–

“I wanted to see her, but she wasn’t in her room.” Maisie smiles as they walk down the hall to the shower room. A silence falls over them before she asks, “You’re in love with my sister, aren’t you?”

Sam stops outside the door to the showers and glances over at Maisie with a goofy grin, before disappearing through the door.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Maisie says to herself,  before heading back to slip quietly into Sam’s room and lay next to Harper, careful not to wake her. She finds comfort in her sister’s presence and steady breathing. Maisie almost dozes off along with Harper; as Maisie’s eyes start to fall shut, she shifts to a more comfortable position, her foot accidentally brushing Harper’s leg.

Surprised by the touch, Harper immediately reacts in her anxiety-induced awakening, whipping her hand around and effectively whacking Maisie in the stomach. “Shit, Harper,” Maisie groans, as Harper scrambles into a sitting position.

Harper places a hand over over wildly beating heart. “What the fuck, don’t do that to me,” she says breathlessly as she flips the lamp on. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“It wasn’t exactly pleasant for me either,” Maisie mumbles, rubbing at her stomach.

Realizing what she had done, an apology spills from Harper’s lips. “Fuck, sorry, you’re still hurt, and I just hit you. Why am I such a fuck-up this week?”

Spurred on Harper’s self-depreciating comment, Maisie sits up, staring down her sister. “None of what happened is your fault, Harper. I’m a grown ass woman who makes her own decisions, sometimes stupid ones, but that’s on me.” Harper can’t match her sisters earnest gaze, looking down to her fidgeting hands.

“Yeah, people keep saying that… I don’t believe ‘em. I’m supposed to watch out for you, I’m the big sister,” Harper replies dejectedly.

“We watch out for each other, Harp. I need you as much as you need me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hold our own sometimes, we can be independent and still lean on each other. You can’t keep the whole big bad world away from me all the time,” Maisie argues, ending with a knowing smirk, because even if it kills her, Harper would still try.

“You know how much I love your inspirational speeches, Mais, but I still should have been there,” Harper concedes. Maisie sighs, wishing Harper would stop burdening herself every time something bad happens.

“Well, you weren’t and I’m still here. Let’s try to move on… Like, to why you were sleeping in Sam’s bed?” Maisie looks Harper up and down, now noticing she was also wearing unfamiliar clothes. “And wearing his clothes?” Maisie cocks an eyebrow at Harper, amusement alight in her eyes.

Harper refuses to make eye contact with her sister, a silence falling between them as Harper tries to think of a good excuse. She quickly realizes there isn’t one without giving away her secrets. “Uh, well… I was having a hard time falling asleep… and Sam was being nice ‘cause of who he is as a person…? Nothing happened, I just crashed in here.”

Maisie rolls her eyes, smiling. “Whatever you say, sis.”

Harper frowns. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? He was just being a good friend.”

Maisie can’t help letting out a small laugh. “Sam is not ‘just being a good friend.’”

“God, after being drained by a Djinn, I’d think maybe you’d be tired of fucking bringing this up!” Harper suddenly gets heated, not wanting to deal with the pressure of facing her feelings.

“Well, I’d think that you wouldn’t get so worked up over someone who’s just a good friend,” Maisie shoots back coolly, only further angering Harper.

“What do you want me to say, that I love Sam!? Fine! I love Sam Winchester! I’m in love with that stupid son of a bitch, and I can’t fucking do anything about it!” Harper yells, her face slowly falling once the realization of what she just admitted sinks in and she knows it’s the truth.

“Harper, he loves you too,” Maisie assures her softly, trying to reach out to her. But Harper abruptly stands up, aggressively running a hand through her hair and shaking her head.

“No, I don’t– he can't… How could he?” Harper tries to deny, her last question coming out barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Maisie prods. Harper’s head pops up, her eyes going wide as she makes eye contact with Maisie, who simply nod her head in the direction of the door, smiling encouragingly. Harper squeezes her eyes shut before turning to look at the wide open door, where Sam stands, a mix of surprise and amusement playing on his face.

“Ask me what, Harper?” Sam takes a few steps into his room, eyes steady on Harper.

“Well, that’s my queue to leave,” Maisie says, hopping up and heading for the hallway. Harper’s eyes nervously dart between Sam and her fleeing sister, silently wishing she could follow her out. Before Maisie exits, she pushes Sam further into the room, closer to Harper, and closes the door shut behind her.

“Oh, now she closes the goddamn door,” Harper sighs, looking up the ceiling and wondering if there is any way out of this situation.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” Sam asks, trying to push the conversation forward.

Harper frowns, and looks back to him. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that isn’t the question.”

Harper realizes that he isn’t giving her any way to back out of this. “Fuck,” she mumbles. “I’m gonna have to ask, aren’t I?”

Sam nods, trying to keep his cool, but a small smiles surfaces. “Since when does Harper Raven ever back down from anything?”

Harper lets out a deep breath. “If I ask, then it’s real.”

“Would it be any less real if you didn’t though?” Sam takes another step toward her, only a few feet away.

Harper maintains eye contact with him, pondering his question for a moment. “I suppose not,” she replies quietly, looking away from Sam. With her heart pounding, Harper starts to ask the question on her mind. “Um, do you– are you…” She looks at him then, her sapphire eyes watching for his reaction. “Are you, uh… in love with, you know… me?”

A grin spreads out on Sam’s face, unable to contain his expression at the question. He takes a step closer, taking her hand in his. “Yes, Harper. And don’t you dare even try to doubt me when I say I am in love with you.” She looks surprised, as if she isn’t sure that she heard him correctly.

“You are?” Harper asks, timidly, and Sam nods happily.

“But the question is, are you in love with me?” His expression grows more serious, as he asks the question that has been on his mind today.

Harper glances away from Sam, briefly staring the floor. When she looks back, she’s greeted by his bright hazel eyes and smiling lips, and she realizes she can’t deny it anymore. Like Sam said, since when does Harper Raven back down from anything?

“Yeah, I guess you could say I am,” she breaks out into a smile, which Sam reciprocates.

Unable to fight the gravity anymore, Harper tugs on his hand, and he steps forward, his hands cradling her head in one smooth motion. Her hands instinctively grabs onto Sam’s shirt, pulling him closer, as he drops his head down to her. His lips meet hers, not wasting another second apart. Everything about them seems so simple and clear to Harper in this moment, like finding the constellations on a starry night, that she wonders why they waited so damn long to connect these stars.

Maisie pads down the quiet halls of the bunker, a small smile tugging at her lips as she leaves Harper and Sam to finally finish what’s been over ten years in the making. She realizes, it’s time for her to face her own boy troubles; running didn’t do her any good. Looking through the few rooms she passes, Maisie doesn’t find anybody until she nears the garage, where she hears what she can only assume is Dean tinkering.

Pushing the door open slightly, Maisie peeks her head in, catching a glimpse of Dean under the Impala’s hood. She ventures farther in, admiring the classics as she passes. But she has to admit, Baby is the sweetest one for miles.

“Looking good,” Maisie says, running a hand over Baby’s smooth, ebony body.

“Me or the car?” Dean asks, emerging from out of the Impala’s hood with a smirk. Maisie rolls her eyes, but smiles along good naturedly. Dean reaches up and shuts the hood, the loud noise making Maisie’s smile falter as she has a sudden flashback of the moment she crashed the Impala. Dean notices the change on her face, and steps forward to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Dean’s tone is laced with worry. As Maisie looks up into his viridescent eyes, the flashes keep coming, this time of Dean, and she can’t help but feel overwhelmed.

“Why the fuck did you kiss me only to walk away?” Maisie blurts, some of the weight she’s been carrying around all these weeks seeming to lift after finally letting this one simple question out. But it quickly settles again once she sees the guard back in Dean’s eyes. He steps back again, clenching his jaw, and Maisie sighs frustratedly.

“What, Dean!? What is it!? One minute I can see how much you care, then the next you turn into an asshole!” Maisie lets loose all the frustration she’s built up because of Dean. It feels good; she’s never been the type of person to hold things in, and it’s been slowly killing her. She waits in a palpable silence as Dean seems to war with himself on what to say.

“I’m right here, Dean, I’m not holding back, why are you!?” She presses. Dean finally looks up.

“Because of you and Cas, okay! He’s my best friend, and he deserves someone as good as you, so I’m trying to stay out of the way, so you don’t have to choose!” Dean admits in a burst. Maisie’s lips part in surprise at Dean’s sudden honesty, staring at him, not able to find what to say. Both of them turn at the sound of the garage door abruptly slamming; Cas stands inside the doorway looking apologetic.

“Perfect timing,” Dean grumbles, running a hand over his face.

“I am sorry, I heard yelling but you both appear to be well, I guess I’ll go,” Cas starts to turn, but Maisie stops him.

“No, Cas, stay,” Maisie says, before glaring at Dean. “Why didn’t you tell me we were dating, Cas?” Maisie asks, mock sincerity in her tone. Cas’s eyebrows come together as he tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“I wasn’t aware of this development. I’m sorry to inform you, but I, um- I believe I may have some… Well, romantically inclined feelings for your friend, Piper.” Maisie smiles in spite of herself at Cas’ earnest candor.

“Oh, good, because I may have some romantically inclined feelings for someone else too. I’m sorry if I ever made you think we were something more than friends,” Maisie replies, earnest in her last statement. Cas shakes his head, confusion still evident on his features.

“I never believed there was anything aside from good camaraderie between us. I always perceived that you were interested in Dean romantically,” Cas states simply with a shrug. Maisie now looks at Dean, her face portraying both exasperation and triumph. Dean’s eyes are wide in surprise, looking between Maisie and Cas, before his expression falls to shame, his gaze sliding to the floor.

“I will leave you to talk,” Cas declares before exiting the garage. The clang of the door behind him rings out in their ears as Maisie waits for Dean to speak up. She said her piece.

“So, I can kiss you now?” Dean peers at Maisie, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Bitch, please. After the bullshit you put me through, you think it’s that easy?” She scoffs, stepping up to jab a finger at his chest.

“I’m sorry, Maisie, really.” Dean’s crestfallen face softens her stance, but she doesn’t back down.

“You’ve got a lot to make up for,” Maisie concedes. She takes the last step to close the space between them, leaning into Dean, their lips tantalizingly close, before she adds, “If you can keep up.” Maisie then turns on her heel and saunters out of the garage, away from Dean’s wildly beating heart.

[murfeelee]

Sims Question Meme (TS3)

I saw @lyrea's questions and I’m just sitting here killing time, so....

What’s your favorite sims death? Good ole Fire, cuz it’s a classic, and it’s always hysterical watching the way sims freak out.

Big props to LGR for the Katy Perry House of Pain, lol! XD

Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Whatever looks nice. I’ve seen the good the bad and the ugly on both sides, EA and 3rd party alike.

Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? YES, it’s so annoying. That Stuffed moodlet really gets on my g-d nerves.

Do you use Moveobjects On? MOO!!!! <3

Favorite mod? NRAAS’ mods (MC and DE and Hybrid and--!), and a ton of essential mods from MTS and Naughty Sims Asylum

First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? TS1: Makin Magic, TS2: Nightlife & Apartment Life, TS3: Ambitions. The only Stuff Packs I’ve ever wasted money on are TS3′s Fast Lane and Movie Stuff Pack, both times cuz I wanted the new vehicles -- the motorcycles, specifically. (EA gave away Town Life for free.)

Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? aLIVE

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Sakura, my avatar sim.

Have you made a simself? Yes, the day I got TS3 I sat down with my whole family and we all made each other; it was a blast.

What sim traits do you give yourself? Artistic, Bookworm, Childish, Computer Whiz, Loner

Which is your favorite EA hair color? Black, White, or Pink

Favorite EA hair? I actually hate most EA hair, tbh. It’s always the same boring styles or cuts, with little variation, even less creativity in the men’s department, and the EPs/SPs have practically zero decent representation for ethnic hair. IMO a lot of EA’s best CAS CC came from the Store, especially the cultural sets like India and Africa. and fun fanciful themes like Midnight Hollow.

For the ladies I really like these X X. (We need way more braids & dreads, EA.)

For men I like these X X. (Most of EA’s male hair is horrendous by default.) 

Favorite life stage? Young Adult, of course. (I’ll always be bitter about kids and elders having such limited interactions.)

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? I’m a Builder. I love making lots! (Just visit my TSR or Exchange pages and it’s just...yeah. :P) Nothing is more fun to me than creating the space; taking something that’s in my head -- or even better: from my favorite shows/games.etc -- and reproducing it in The Sims. I always wanted to be an interior decorator, and my friends knew this and introduced me to The Sims 1 when it came out. I’ve been hooked ever since -- curse them.

Are you a CC creator? Yes, unfortunately. I only got into converting when I got desperate for particularly niche content (fanciful/cultural/period CC) that just wasn’t. being. made. I was sick of waiting, and sick of all the contemporary stuff. I don’t remember how I got into first learning though. It was a lot of trial and error, and my very first conversions were total garbage (some of them are still up at TSR if y'all want to point and laugh). But I just kept practicing. I’m still practicing. I wish more people would get into making TS3 CC though.  

Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? I’m open to talking with anybody. I love chatting with simmers and leaving/getting comments and messages. I get particularly excited when I find simmers who share similar interests & fandoms we can gab away over. I’m a total fangirl.

What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) The Sims 3, full stop. <3 I miss TS1 and TS2 sometimes, but then I think about CASt and Open Worlds and I get over it. XD TS2 had all the best CC & mods though (I’m still jelly). I haven’t played TS4, and as things stand I don’t think I ever will. Not one of TS4′s EPs thus far have interested me.

Do you have any sims merch? Other than the games themselves, nope. They cost enough; I’m not tryna give EA any more of my effing money if I can help it.

Do you have a YouTube for sims? Ew, no. Starting a Simblr was pushing the social media limit for me. Anything else would be too much of a hassle.

How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? My lots are more cluttered (I’m a CC addict, DON’T JUDGE ME!). With screenshots I learned more about the in-game camera (my fave mods for camera angles/zooming/fade), and EA’s invisible lights in BuyDebug. I was introduced to Topaz, which I’m still struggling with. My sims still look like pudding though.

Who’s your favorite CC creator? I have favorite sites and sets, but thinking of just one creator is impossible. 

How long have you had a simblr? Since 2013

How do you edit your pictures? In Photoshop I almost always adjust the brightness & contrast by 10 - 30, depending on how crap my in-game lighting was. Then I use the default settings for Topaz (Clean & Sharpen), since I have no idea what I’m doing.

What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? I hope TS4 makes a fanciful EP. Preferably something with magic, medieval, or steampunk gameplay, in a brand new world we've never had before. Or Japan, I’m always cool with Asian content. ;)

What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? TS1: Makin Magic, TS2: Nightlife, TS3: Supernatural.

As usual I tag whoever!

[crassussativum]

Ooc- Enemies and Allies: Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“Crass!” Taren slung her arms around his neck and hugged tightly while he held her off the ground and squeezed back just as close.

“Congratulations,” He said and pressed a kiss to her short fringe.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it in time.” She trilled as he sat her back on her feet. “I kept looking and looking for you-”

“I was late. I had to stand toward the back.” He confessed. “I wouldn’t miss your induction. I’d planned to be here even if Mav and I were still in the field.”

“How is he?” Taren asked, stepping back and smoothing down the new cadet uniform she wore. Today, after she’d graduation from school with honors and been accepted to an engineering focused program.

Crassus did the same with his Blackwatch dress uniform and shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since he left the hospital, but he was recovering fine.” He, of course, hadn’t told her the details of how badly Mav had been injured, or about the secondary infection that had nearly killed the smaller turian, but weeks later, he was finally doing better. “I was thinking about paying him a visit later.”

Taren looped her arms around one of his. “After you feed me, right?”

“Of course.” He laughed and lead her from the audience hall.

…

Later that evening, after he had taken Taren back to her dorm, Crassus drove out to Mav’s apartment in Cipritine. He found the high-rise building easily enough, left his car in the lot and then waited a ridiculous amount of time for the elevator to take him to the correct floor. He knocked on the door a half dozen times before Mav answered it, leaning heavily on the door frame, too pale and thin looking. He guessed all the medicine the smaller been given after leaving the hospital wasn’t treating him well.

“You look half way to dead,” He told Mav with a carefully teasing flick of his mandibles.

Mav snorted at him. “I reckon I probably do,” He stood to the side to let Crassus in.

The apartment was relatively small but didn’t look near as cluttered as Mav’s ship had. In fact it was nice and orderly, decorated simply. A few fake plants, a couch and matching chair, a bookshelf… It looked a lot like Crassus’ own apartment on the Citadel and that was something he honestly hadn’t expected.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as Mav gestured that he sit on the couch.

“Half way to dead,” Mav grinned and sat down next to him with a pained groan. “Fuck. I feel fine overall. Sore, mostly. I’m fuckin’ hungry but they still got me on a liquid diet and that just don’t hit the spot.”

“I imagine it doesn’t.” Crassus agreed.

“Not at fuckin’ all.” He sighed and leaned his head back. “They gave me shit to help me sleep too but it makes me sick. First time I threw up I thought I was gonna ruin all their good work. The stitches and graphs, I mean. Don’t want that.”

He hadn’t known Mav was having trouble sleeping, but after what Nival had done to him, it made sense that he would. “Nightmares?”

“Sometimes,” The smaller agent said. “Mostly I just can’t get to sleep. Too tense, y’know?”

Crassus nodded his head. “Have you talked to anyone?”

“’Bout what Nival did?” Mav arched a brow at him. “Nah. I mean, the docs asked, ‘course they did, but what’s there to really say? He cut me open and scooped my stuffin’ out.”

He flicked his mandibles. “That’s nearly the definition of a traumatizing experience.”

“Layin’ there lookin’ at my guts and blood, wonderin’ where you were? Yeah.” He deadpanned. “Thought I got you killed ‘til I heard you prayin’ over me.”

Crassus felt his mandibles shift back and forth. “I thought my inability to react quickly got you killed.”

Mav snorted again. “You did the only thing you can do when someone throws a grenade at you. Dunk, cover and hope for the best.” He sighed and tried to make himself comfortable on the couch. “Nival threw that at you and I just… fuck, big guy, I screwed up not takin’ him down by force when I had the chance. I wanted to give him the opportunity to explain, yknow? Cuz he was one of ours, figured I owed him that much, crazy or not, thought I owed him a chance to explain.”

“I thought we did, too.” Crassus agreed, looking at him sideways. Mav’s mandibles were pressed flat along his jaw. “Neither of us knew how far gone he was, not at all.”

“Nah,” The smaller turian hummed with another sigh. “He got me on that table and used some tool I’d never seen before to crack my armor open like a fuckin’ egg. Then he used his talons to cut me. Said he didn’t want to damage what was in me, he just needed to get to it. I could feel him movin’ stuff ‘bout...reachin’ in me… Then you were there.”

His mandibles fluttered.

“I was real glad to see you,” Mav continued. “Real glad. Grateful, even. You were alive and I knew you’d do everythin’ in your power to keep me that way, too. Did… Have I thanked you yet?”

Crassus blinked at him, his mandibles fluttering. “Ah… no, no you haven’t, but you don’t need-”

“Thanks for savin’ my life, Crass.” The smaller turian interrupted, smiling at him. “Told you I didn’t have a death-wish.”

That last bit startled a laugh out of him and Crassus ran a hand over his fringe when it had stopped, looking to Mav again and his little smile. “You’re welcome, Mav.”

Mav flicked his mandibles with that smile and then leaned sideways to touch his foreplate to Crassus’ shoulder in a sign of affection. The action surprised him more than he could really put words to, but in the end, he patted Mav’s fringe in acceptance.

[glass-ladybug]

road trip fic

At first, it wasn't noticeable. Just a few people, gone for the day. It was swiftly pinned down as a 24 hour bug. After two days, people began to wonder about the flu. After three, people started getting scared. Missing posters went up, phone calls were made, police were sent to look around, suspecting a prank, or maybe even a slew of movers, left for another town. But nothing came of it- none of the fifteen newly missing people were found. Council members, officers, regular members of the community- gone. The second Bea came home to her eerily quiet apartment, she knew. It was a feeling in her stomach: a pit that sank down, down, down until she wanted to throw up, or scream, or cry to make it disappear. But she held on, calling his name and ransacking the house, opening every door until it was overwhelmingly obvious her father wasn't home. She didn't sleep that night. When Bea fled from her house to work that morning, trying so /so/ hard to cling to some semblance of normality, Creek wasn't there. On any other day, Bea would've grumbled a bit about having to pick up the slack, but would've been secretly relieved to have a day away from the old creep. Today, she sat in the backroom and buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking as her entire world broke down around her. She killed her father. Or, if the cave-in hadn't, dehydration soon would. An eye for an eye, Mae for her father. She briefly wondered if it was worth it. Her dad wasn't a bad guy. Creek, maybe, but not her dad. He was a man who had been broken to the point of no return, but he didn't deserve to die, not like that. Or maybe he did. The cult killed people. Her /dad/ could've killed people for all she knew. And if he hadn't, he'd certainly stood by while others did. This was too much. Too much to handle now, in this cramped, cluttered backroom by herself. Maybe too much to handle ever. But she couldn't live in denial, like Mae. Or excuse it like Gregg. Or, worse yet, agree with it like Angus. So there, in the storage room of the little store, her store, -she owned it now, she supposed- Bea made the active decision to live with it. ----------------- Possum Springs was healing. Things were still pretty messed up, but after a month, they were getting better. Aunt Molly was gone. Mae's mom kept assuring her that no, no, her aunt was fine, she was probably on a vacation, or a work trip and had forgotten to tell them. Mae pretended it was the truth. Other people were missing too- the head council member, some lesser ones, and a whole bunch of people that Mae had known. People she'd talked to, shared meals with, waved to from across the street. She couldn't go to the woods anymore. Even Germ's house was too close to That Place for her. She didn't like to think about it- preferring to shove it to some deep dark corner of her mind and forget. ((Too fast of a tone change?)) So Mae went to work. She'd gotten a job at Taco Buck, which was good! True, she didn't have a car to deliver with, but she /could/ Naruto run down the street at an alarming pace, and that was good enough. Mae balanced a bag of Mega Tacos in her arms. Struggling to pick up her ringing flip-phone, she didn't bother to check the Caller ID. "Heyyyyy." Gregg's voice echoed through the tinny receiver. "Hey, Mae! What's up?" "Not a lot. I was thinking about going to the park. To, y'know... get away." Gregg's voice filled with understanding. "Oh. Yeah, I get it." There was a beat of silence. "Can me and Angus come? We're not doing anything tonight, so I thought maybe we could all hang out before..." The words 'before we leave for good' hung in the air. Mae waved the growing pain in her chest away. "Sounds good! I'll invite Bea, too." "Nice!" "Five okay?" Gregg leaned away from his phone for a second, and Mae could hear muffled shouting. "Yeah, that works!" "See you then." "Bye, dude!" Gregg hung up with a faint click. Two down, one to go. Mae dialed Bea's number, impatiently waiting for her to pick up. "Hello?" Bea answered. "Hey, Bea! You free tonight?" "Are you asking-" Bea's low voice held an element of shock. "Gregg, Angus and I are going to the park, you wanna come?" "Oh. Sure, okay." "Five work for you?" "Yep. Bye." "See y-" /click/. Well. That was hasty. Now, Mae had to deliver some tacos. --------------------------------------- Bea liked spending as little time as possible at her empty house, which was why she was thrilled at Mae's offer of the park. Even if she was expecting something else. No, no, she was just tired! Long day at work. As always. Possum Springs didn't really have a park, per say. It had a tiny little plot of land with a fountain that only worked half the time, and a run down swing set. But she'd go anyway. When she arrived, Mae was already swinging as high as she possibly could, seemingly on an endless quest to swing completely around the bar. Gregg was beside her, shifting from side to side in his swing in an attempt to shove her off. She sat down next to Angus. "Hey." "Hey." It was good. A conversation with Angus wasn't exactly talkative, but it was peaceful, and fufilling for both of them. Quiet, but nice. Just like Angus. They sat together, the sun oddly warm for November, watching Gregg and Mae grow increasingly rowdy in their efforts to dethrone the other. A slight breeze ruffled the remaining leaves on the trees. Mae let out a shout, and hopped to the ground, Gregg crowing wildly in the background. She dusted her shirt off indignantly, before eying her friends oddly. There was something different about her, Bea noticed. She looked less... free. Her usually bright eyes had a hint of something else behind them. Something tired, and broken. It scared Bea that this was usual, now. ((FIX LAST SENTENCE LATER)) Mae motioned for Gregg to join them, and looked critically at the scenery around them before smiling widely. "I've been thinking." Angus sighed. "Hey!" Mae chortled. "That's not fair!" "Go on." Bea drawled. "I have a plan." "For?" "Well..." Mae paused for dramatic effect, obviously relishing in their anticipation. Bea sort of wanted to kick her in the kneecap. "We should go on a road trip!" Mae looked around at them, gauging their reactions. Bea started coughing loudly, hacking shocked breaths escaping from her lungs. Gregg shot to his feet. "Yeah! We totally should!" Mae slung an arm around her best friend, grinning devilishly at Angus and Bea. Angus seemed to be contemplating the option. He took a deep breath. "No." Bea, still in shock, noticed the remarkable similarity between the downcast expressions on the two daredevil's faces. Gregg pouted, and Mae made her eyes as wide and innocent as possible. Angus wasn't fazed. "We can't just stop now, Bug. Not when we're this close." Gregg adjusted his leather jacket slightly. "These are our friends! And, hell, soon we're not gonna even see them anymore!" Gregg pleaded with his boyfriend, who looked away. "The Plan can be put on hold for what-" Gregg looked inquisitively at Mae. "-three days? Four?" "Dunno. I didn't actually think I'd get this far." Mae said sheepishly. Angus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where would we even go?" "We can work out the details later!" "...This is ridiculous." "I'm ridiculous!" Gregg chimed in. Bea felt inclined to agree. Resolve cracking, Angus furrowed his brows. "We have work." "We'll leave Friday, and call in sick on Monday." "The four of us? On the same day? In a small town?" "Yeah, if anyone asks we'll say we all caught the travel bug!" Gregg's excitement was gaining momentum, and it was obvious Angus wasn't going to hold up under the blond's relentless assault of sweetness. Angus turned to Bea, sending a silent plea for backup. Bea threw her hands up in a "what can you do" gesture, smiling slightly. He groaned, resting his head in his hands. "Bea, please..." Thanks, Angus. The decision was in /her/ hands now. Greeaaat. Mae seemed to sense this too, as she quickly switched her attention to Bea, giving her her best angelic smile. Bea said nothing. Mae continued to flutter her eyelashes. Bea, again, said nothing. She wasn't going to lose. Apparently, neither was Mae, as she detached herself from Gregg to sidle up next to the older girl. Bea raised a single eyebrow, a talent she possessed that made Mae insanely incensed. Mae winked. Sighing heavily, Bea pursed her lips. "We'll use my car." Mae shot up with a cheer, pulling the four of them into a hug. "Oh my God Oh my God /Oh my God/, we're gonna do this!" Mae pulled back, looking critically at Angus. "We /are/ doing this, right?" "I guess." "Yay!" Mae cheered, burying her face in Angus's scarf. Bea didn't miss the glare Angus threw at her over Mae's shoulder. Serves him right. If he didn't want this outcome, he shouldn't have handed it over to Bea. "So," Mae spouted happily, seemingly vibrating with energy, "where are we gonna go? Cuz', I've actually got nothing, and-" "The Grand Canyon." Gregg interrupted. "Huh?" "The Grand Canyon! That's... That's a place people go, right? We could do that?" "Yeah..." Mae said, pausing to think for a second. "Yeah, you're right! Bea, Angus, what do you think?" Angus pursed his lips, clearly still unhappy that this was happening. "It's a long way." "More places to go in between!" Bea had to see the logic in that. And, well, it'd be nice to see such an iconic part of America. Even if the whole country was on an economic slide due to power-hungry officials and underhanded corrupt dealings. Wait, no! Focus, Bea. "How long would this take?" She asked skeptically. Gregg quickly whipped out his phone, fingers tapping across the screen at a lightening pace. "Well, if we..." He shook his head slightly, blonde strands of hair sweeping to the other side of his forehead. "No, no... If we hit Vegas, which we definitely are, then..." Gregg typed a few more things onto his screen, before dropping his phone into the pocket of his leather jacket. ((Too much description of Gregg?)) "Accounting for driving, snack breaks, stops, sleeping, and at least one random accident, I'd say four days? Roughly?" Bea nodded. "We could leave on Friday after work, do stops and stuff on Saturday and Sunday, arrive at the canyon on Monday, then get home early Tuesday morning before work." Bea looked at Angus, almost in disbelief that she was siding with Gregg. "We... could actually do this. It's not as ludicrous as it sounds." Looking as if he'd just been drafted into battle, Angus merely sighed heavily. "Okay, fine! Fine. We'll pack tonight." Mae's eyes were alight with joy. "I'll grab some snacks." They needed this, Bea thought. They all needed to escape from this town, even if just for a little bit. Mae most of all. Mae and Gregg spun each other around again. Bea watched thoughtfully. "Tomorrow, right after everyone's done working, you grab your stuff and meet me at the Pickaxe. I'll pick everyone up from there, and we can head out, I guess." Mae waved happily, looking more alive than Bea had seen her in weeks. "I'll see you then!" Gregg ferociously bobbed his head up and down in agreement, and Angus nodded in affirmation. "I'll see you then." Bea whispered. ((I gotta add an ending sentence that's a lil happier bc I want this to be a fluffier fic))