#so we have to have stuff on light mode and then switch it back to dark mode if we have a migraine

[thethingything]

god I still felt really weird and like something was really wrong and I couldn't ground myself and then 🩹 was like "hey do you normally have on of the curtains closed? because it's been closed for the last few days and I feel like maybe that's an issue?" so we opened the curtains fully again and guess who immediately felt significantly less shit

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello, Congratulations on the 5k follows!!

I discovered this fandom a few months ago and have been living for your writing ever since.

I was thinking as a drabble of the taskforce gentlemen coming home at the crack of dawn from a long mission and seeing their spouse's hand, limp on the ground peeking out from the side of the couch. All the panic and worry going thru their heads, so much bubbling up, horrible scenarios. They rush over and find you sleeping on the floor. The power had gone out last night and the hardwood floor was the coolest place to be (you didn't want to open the window because you know how they worry), so you were watching stuff on your phone and drifted off. Crisis averted!

Thank you for your time 💜

—Wide-Eyed Panic

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞

I’ll start by saying all of them would be concerned and immediately go into panic mode—why were you behind the couch? Why was your hand sticking out? Why, in God's name, were you not moving? Cue the horrible thoughts and flashes of what went on in their work lives.

John Price ➺

John entered the house with a sigh, slipping off his boots as the door was closed and deftly locked behind him. Grunting under his breath, the man rubs over his face, the lights off as he calls out with a tired grumble to his voice. 

“I’m back,” his voice echoes, the tone moving through the darkness far louder than it should have. There’s no answer. “Love…?” Pausing, John blinks slowly at the wall, ear twitching to the utter silence of the home. No water in the pipes. No buzzing of electricity. No you. Eyes rising, they dart around quickly as his finger moves out to the light switch. A small push elicits nothing, just as he thought. The power was out. 

Dread slowly creeps into John’s chest.

Hand reaching behind his back, the man’s fingers inch over the smooth metal of a pistol, grasping the weapon before he begins walking forward. He keeps silent, feet moving to where he knows the wood won't creak. 

His mind runs. 

Why was the power off? Where were you? Why didn’t you respond—were you hurt? John’s mind goes to blood and bullets, his jaw clenching tightly as the pistol comes out to rest in front of him; hands shifting the grip as he takes a soothing breath. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone, but it would be pointless to lie about how his heart hammers. 

“Fuck,” he growls, eyes going tight. 

That’s when he sees it. Blue eyes widen sharply. 

“Love!” John shouts, all other concerns about intruders meaningless to him. Your hand was sticking out from behind the couch, a dark shadow in the low light. He rushes over as you jerk, yelling in alarm as he rushes to grab you, pulling you up into his arms and pulling you away into the closet across the room.

“John!” You blink rapidly as you’re set back against the wall. 

“Shush now,” he grunts, eyes panicked. “Keep awake, let me look.” A hand moves all over your body, searching and pulling at clothes to touch the skin for any wounds. “Tell me where it hurts, then. Quickly. We have to move—”

“John, what the hell,” you push at him, moving him back. Your eyes try to adjust to being so rudely awakened at such an hour. “What are you doing?!”

You weren’t hurt. 

The Captain’s face pulls in with confusion, back against the closet door and now in more darkness than ever before. He can barely make out your face before you sigh and put your hands against his arms. 

Things begin to calm down as his hand rests at your hip, nearly tight enough to bruise. In his other is the gun just before you put your hand to it and softly peel the item away from him—putting it on the shelf that you know is to your left. 

Hands find John’s cheeks as he pants.

“John,” you say his name again. “...what happened.”

“Why were you on the ground?” He forces out firmly, voice a low grunt. “Why were the lights not—”

“The power went out for everyone, okay?” You speak slowly, rubbing your thumbs over his beard. “It was on the news. I didn’t open a window because I knew you would worry about that—the floor was cool and it was getting too hot in here.” 

Your mind tells you to explain quickly and fluently. You move forward and press your forehead into John’s as he sags with a great exhalation of breath—his arms circling you tightly until your spine might crack. 

He doesn’t speak for a long while, just holding you.

“Scared me,” he mutters, missing you deeply on the forehead, speaking into your skin. “Fuck, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He keeps you to his chest, eyes fluttering shut and his spine hunching over you, fingers splayed over your back. You run your hands through his hair and calm the swelling of your heart.

You can feel his pulse mirroring your own.

Simon Riley ➺

When he sees your hand, he freezes. 

Simon wasn’t a stranger to the lights being off in the home—you opted for lamps and low light more often than not; this wasn’t new. He had only quirked a brow when he came home to the pitch-blackness, off from his recent deployment and eager for a warm bed to fall into. He admits he’d let himself calm down on the car ride home—your home was where he could relax and release tension until it became as unimportant as an ant on the pavement. 

But when he’d closed the door silently behind him and walked the few steps it would take to enter the living room, where he was sure you were still up either reading or watching something on your phone under a blanket, his body had stiffened immediately. 

Your hand sticking out from behind the couch. Limp. 

Lifeless.  

He’d been staring at it for only a few seconds before the memories came back—the ones of gore splattered to the walls and ceiling of an old flat back in Manchester. 

Simon’s thoughts had hit him like a bullet.

Not again.

Rushing forward like a bear, the man slips along the hardwood as his knees go down, shaking the home at the force at which he grabs at your body and flips you from your side to your back. 

You gasp awake and instinctually throw out a fist, connecting with a stone chest as you hiss and blink in panic. 

Fingers ruthlessly dig into your shoulders, wide brown eyes open, and…and afraid. 

“Simon?” You mutter softly, all fear in your heart is squished in an instant. 

The man breathes through wheezes, balaclava fabric moving from the force of his breaths. His fingers are shaking, blinking as his head jerks to look your lying form up and down swiftly. 

You hesitantly put a hand on his cheek and he flinches before nuzzling into it. 

“Don’t…” he takes a quivering breath into his lungs, and after, loosens his grip on your skin. Simon’s hands go to your waist, dragging you up and stapling you to his chest. “Don’t do that again.”

His voice is low. Vulnerable. 

You blink, hands holding him back on the floor. 

“...The power went out,” you try to explain only half of it softly, muffled by his neck. 

He only holds you harder, eyes open and blankly staring at the floor a foot away.

Johnny MacTavish ➺

Johnny hums a song under his breath, hanging his keys on the hook near the door.

“Dearie!” He calls to you loudly, itching at the side of his head and chuckling. “Don’t run too fast to me now, I’m all yours for two w—”

The light switch is moved by his finger, but no light illuminates his path to the living room. Pausing in the entrance, the man’s brows furrow tightly, speech cutting off like scissors to paper. 

“...eeks?” Johnny ends his sentence, turning back around to look at the switch in confusion. “The hell’s going on with that?” He mutters to himself, a frown growing on his face before he refocuses on his mission to find you—now with the added task of figuring out why the power was out in the house. 

“Swear,” the man grumbles, huffing while he runs a hand over his face, “if those kids down the street did something I’ll be livid. Little devils, I swear.” 

Johnny steps farther into the living room, glancing around. 

“Dearie?” He pauses, listening before calling out your name. “Where’s she off to?”

He sighs softly, wanting to hold you now that he’s home to do so—squeeze you in his arms and take in your scent again; he’d missed you immensely while he was away.

Johnny came across your hand sticking out from behind the couch by accident, moving to make his way into your bedroom thinking that you were sleeping. He sees an odd shape in the blackness and pauses, feet slowing to a stop. 

When he notices that it’s a hand—your hand, he doesn’t even realize that he’s completely gripped the side of the couch and wrenched it back until the scratch of the wood floors screams in his ears. 

You wake up to hands on your cheeks, sharp yelling, and your head being shaken up and down until you’re conscious. 

“Dearie, hey! What the fuck,” the last sentence is growled on fast lips. “What the fuck.”

Your hands slap to Johnny’s wrists, nails digging in. 

He breathes out quickly, looking into your eyes to look for dilation as the darkness forces him closer. “There we are, tell me where you’re hurting, now, yeah? Did you hit your head? Let me take a look. It’s okay, I’ll get you all fixed up, there’s no need to worry.”

“Hey!” Your hands push at his, trying to shove the brick wall away from you. “Quit it! Johnny! I’m fine! ”

The man pauses at your animated movements, blinking rapidly before his grip loosens. 

When it’s obvious that you’re perfectly fine, he moves back and groans, thumb and forefinger digging into his nose bridge. 

“Hell’s bells, Hen.” You glare, panting on the floor before you push yourself up. 

“‘Hell’s bells’, me?” Johnny’s head plops to your shoulder. “You just shook me like a fucking rabbit!” 

“Scared the shite out of me, you terror.” The man huffs. “Need to put a heart monitor on you.”

“Piss off,” you sigh, putting a hand to your chest to feel the pace of your pulse and the blood that runs furiously.

Johnny, moments later as he’s still resting on your shoulder, starts…laughing. Low at first, then gaining noise the more it goes unchecked—a deep rumble into chest-jerking amusement. You look down at him, the couch tilted and long scratches over the floor. Pausing, you blink at his shaking shadow before your lungs start quivering. The two of you bend over one another with shared, house-shaking laughter. 

“What the fuck were you doin’ behind the damn couch?” Johnny grabs you close, kissing along your neck as he picks you up, dragging you to your feet. 

“The power went out!” You giggle, chest hurting from the fast gasps of breath as more kisses are spread over your skin. “It was colder down there and I didn’t want to open one of the windows because I knew you’d throw a pouting match about it.”

“Christ, Dearie.” Lips meet your own. “I had half the mind to think you had a heart attack. Nearly gave me one.”

Kyle Garrick ➺

Kyle sighs as he rubs at his jaw, itching the skin and slipping out of his jacket. 

“I’m home, Love!” He says, his voice echoing over the flat. “Want me to start on supper or have you eaten yet?” The man smiles, taking off his cap and putting it on the coat rack, sighing softly. 

It was good to be back. 

Bending down to unlace his boots, he pulls at them until they’re loose enough to slip out of, thumping to their sides on the rug until he reaches out and fixes them. 

“What’s that, then?” He calls into the darkness, not hearing your answer as he quickly checks the time on his phone. “Fuck, it’s late,” Kyle utters to himself. 

Walking into the kitchen, he touches the light switch only to be met with nothing. Pausing, the man’s face pulls in—fingers twitching at his sides as he glances at the window and the moonlight that seeps in to glare along the floor. 

A deep frown takes hold of him, and he looks around once more before backing up.

“...Love?” Kyle wasn’t too concerned—the building wasn’t always the best, and power outages weren’t unheard of. But, damn, if the high of getting off of a deployment didn’t put him in a negative head-space when it came to a change in routine involving you. 

Why weren’t you answering him?

Walking slightly faster into the living room, his hand nearly reaches into his pocket to call your phone if you didn’t end up in any of the rooms—pulse beginning to be infected with a steady injection of adrenaline. 

Brown eyes find your hand behind the couch when they’re about to shift to the open door of your bedroom. A sharp gasp is inhaled instantaneously. 

Kyle races over, grappling to it and pressing his fingers to your neck for a pulse. You softly breathe, none the wiser as you lightly shift and sigh in your sleep; a delicate hum moving out as familiar fingers dig into you. 

It’s through his panic that a thought quickly cuts through the man’s mind. You’d mentioned this before. 

Kyle pauses, just about to loudly wake you. 

‘It gets hot when the power goes out, Kyle, I swear one of these days I’m going to just fall asleep on the floor. At least it’s cool down there.’

Well, the power was out, and, it seemed, you really had fallen asleep on the floor. Now that he thought about it, the flat was running hot—and he also knew that you knew he had gotten nervous of late when you left the windows open at night. 

“Bloody hell,” the man releases a long breath, free hand moving to grip the back of his head. A few seconds later, Kyle chuckles to himself, shaking his head with a small smile. “You are losing it, Mate. Losing it.” 

Without another word, he grips you, and with a grunt, picks you up and takes you to bed, setting you down on the pillows and making sure to leave the sheets off of you so you don’t grow uncomfortable.

A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and you hum in slumber, smiling unconsciously.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Love.” 

He leaves to go make a quick supper of cereal and milk.

[fir3ylolol]

smile! you're on camera

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Staying at Johnny's house is really nice, except...something feels a little off. You find out the hard way when you decide to entertain yourself on the couch.

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, making out, face fucking, sex tape, dom/sub, switch!reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, sex in a theater, i physically cant write men who dont whine, he needs pussy!, afab!reader, he wants you so bad omg, smut, shameless smut, porn with light plot

a/n: hehehehehehe...this is inspired by the voice clip in the invasion mode of mk1 where he says he has cameras everywhere. ive been rly inspired lately, but im gna open up requests on here soon, so keep an eye outtt

word count: 2.63 k

Ao3

Something was really off about Cage’s house. After coming back from the tournament and training, you weren’t ready to get back to normal life. And Johnny had offered you a starring role in the movie he was planning to make about Outworld. You accepted quickly, after making sure you wouldn’t have to get naked or be a horrible person or anything like that. But rent is rough, and Johnny is so generous as to let you stay at his place.

His casual, gigantic mansion-y place.

But it was nice. You had your own space, a full fridge, and could still ignore things like work for a bit longer. Plus, Johnny was a surprisingly great host, hosting movie nights in his private theater. Everything was great, except…

You always felt like someone was watching you. As long as you weren’t in your room or the bathroom, it felt like there were eyes on you. Getting a drink of water? It’s there. Sitting on the couch? Being watched. Just wandering into a room? Oh yeah, you for sure feel it. But you brush it off and don’t bother to say anything to Johnny. You figure it’s just dumb paranoia.

After about 2 weeks without any work from Johnny, you’re getting bored. He’s never home, he has work to do and a movie to plan. So you sit around the mansion all day, waiting. Usually, you read, watch stuff, or even just take laps around the house for exercise. But today, you’re just scrolling through social media. Even that is boring to you today. You decide that, hey, you can think of a good way to pass the time. For a quick moment, you forget about feeling watched. Your fingers dip below your waistband, shivering at your touch. It’s been a long time, you’ve been training and then living in someone else’s house. When would you have the chance?

Slowly, you begin to tease yourself, fingers circling your clit. It’s quite embarrassing how much it affects you, but you’ve lost your ability to feel shame. You lose yourself in your actions, whimpers and moans echoing through the empty house. Unable to stop yourself, you finish with an almost violent snap, panting harshly. Pulling your hand out, you finally feel embarrassed, with how fast you were, and how hard you came. Shakily, you stand up and walk towards the bathroom to wash your hands.

You've forgotten what you did by the time Johnny gets home that evening. Smiling as he walks in, a grocery bag in one hand. “Here comes Mr. Celebrity to pass out treats to us poor folk,” you throw your hands out in a joking manner. But there’s a weird look in his eyes, not matching his characteristic smile. “It’s movie night, I had to make sure we had enough snacks,” he walks towards the kitchen, you shortly behind. “Oh yeah! What’s the movie tonight?” You lean against the counter, searching through the bag.

“The Thing. We haven’t done any horror movies yet.” He grabs a glass of water, drinking deeply. But that look is still there. It almost scares you away at how sharp it is. “Ah, ok. Well…I guess I’ll see you then.” You back out of the room, almost running when you’re out of his sight. Catching your breath in your room, confusion floods your mind. Did you do something wrong? Is he tired of having you here? All you can do is wait and wonder until tonight.

And tonight comes much too fast. You find yourself stumbling into the theater room, meeting Johnny’s eyes as you walk in. But he seems much happier. Maybe he was just tired after work. As you get settled, a bag of snacks next to your leg. As Johnny starts the movie and turns the lights down, you start to get nervous. What if he’s mad at you? He is pretty rich, if he wants you dead, it wouldn’t take long.

But Johnny sits next to you, settling down and looking towards you. You try not to look at him, fearing that you might meet a cold gaze. Unable to stop yourself though, your eyes meet his. The weird look is still there, no longer hidden under sunglasses and smiles. Ever the considerate movie-watcher, he leans in to whisper in your ear. “So, did you have a good day? It must get lonely here.” Trying to stay calm, you whisper back, “It was ok, I can’t complain. Was your day ok?”

“Yeah, more progress made on my movie. Studios are eating it up. But…” He pauses, looking at the screen shortly before looking back to you. “I did see a very interesting movie on break.” Turning fully, you look at him confusedly. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh yeah? What was it?”

“Well, you know, I do have cameras set up like everywhere, right?”

Oh shit.

Your entire face drops, frozen in shock. You finally remember the fun you had earlier on the couch. The watched feeling finally makes sense. “O-oh…” You stumble over yourself trying to think of excuses. This is humiliating. But Johnny doesn’t falter like you. He pauses the movie, reaching his hand out and taking yours to pull your focus back to him.

“You put on quite a show for me, you know?” You finally recognize the look in his eyes. It’s intense curiosity and...lust? “Only wish I knew what you were thinking about. Care to enlighten me?” He leans slightly closer, hot breath fanning over you. Swallowing hard, you try to avoid his intense stare. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was just…bored?” He laughs slightly, holding your other hand. “Really? I was sorta hoping you were thinking of me, but that’s a little selfish, huh?”

“H-huh? What? Do…do you think of me like that?” You fluster further at his words. “Maybe…does that bother you?” He falters slightly, realizing that he might be making you uncomfortable. But you can't stop yourself from blurting out, “No! It doesn't bother me. I-” Cutting you off, Johnny leans in closer, lips an inch apart. “Then what's the problem?” You swallow hard, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, and finally answer.

“I just don't know what to do when fantasy becomes reality.”

Luckily for you, Johnny knows.

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you like your life depended on it. You wrap your hands behind his neck and lean back, pulling him impossibly closer. Your tongues dance against each other, lips crashing. Suddenly, you get a surge of confidence, one that defies your previous apprehension. One of your hands slips down his chest slowly, inching along until you reach his growing bulge. He pulls back slightly, panting and staring directly into your eyes. “H-hey now, you’re not playing fair,” he manages to get out, slightly whining at your touch. 

“You started it, watching me like that,” you whisper in his ear, fingers slowly rubbing along his waistband. He gasps lightly, head turning away from you. “You liked it, right? Did you touch yourself watching it?” Your fingers move further past his waist, inching towards his cock. “C’mon, you can tell me,” your voice almost sing-songy and teasing. He manages to stutter out a shaky “y-yeah” as you continue down. But you suddenly stop, much to his disappointment.

Instead, you move to kneel in between his legs, looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looks slightly confused until you undo his pants button. Biting his lip, he watches you with intense, pleading eyes. You lean up, taking the zipper of his fly in your mouth and undoing it. He looks like he could honestly cum right now, but you won't let him. As you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, his cock springs up, the tip angry and weeping. He blushes at the sight of himself like this and you, looking up at him with his hard dick right in front of you.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, stroking him a few times. You just want to watch him squirm and squirm he does. He is whining, head turning back and forth, with one hand on his thigh and the other over his mouth. You kiss the underside, looking up at him through your lashes. With a muffled moan, he looks away again, face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. Slowly licking at the tip, watching as he continues unraveling, you finally take him in your mouth. You fit as much as you can at first, reveling in the loud gasp you earn from him. You continue a relentless pace, gently massaging his balls as well. 

This pleasure is intense for Johnny, so much so that he’s starting to tear up, eyes welling up as he holds back as many sounds as he can. But that only lasts so long as you lift your head off him, taking a deep breath and rasping out, “Do you wanna come, baby? Huh? Then come on, fuck my face like a good boy.” 

You go further down this time, causing him to jump at the feeling. Scurried hands grab at your head as he's bent forward, bucking at a frenzied pace. Loud, slutty moans roll from his lips as he loses himself in the feeling. And as you kneel there, trying to stay there for as long as possible, you feel yourself growing wetter. You did this to him, got him so riled up that he could barely control himself. Amongst his hurried moves, you manage to push past your gag reflex and fully take his entire cock down your throat. A loud, long breathy moan is all Johnny can get out as he almost immediately cums at the feeling. Focusing on holding your breath until you can no longer feel him pulsing in your throat, you savor his sounds, his whines, whimpers, moans.

As you move up, taking a deep breath, you admire him in the lowlights. His face flushed and sweaty, eyes rolled back in his head, usually perfect hair messed up. Beautiful. But he only stays like that for so long, because you move up to kiss him. As if his body is reacting without him thinking, he wraps one hand behind your back and uses one to tangle in your hair. After a short kiss, he pulls away. You manage to half-whisper “That was quite a show you put on,” chuckling afterward.

Johnny lazily motions for you to sit next to him, and you oblige. But before you’re even fully down, he's on you, kissing and pulling you closer. Now it's his turn to tease, fingers traveling under your shirt to play with your nipples. You let out light gasps at the feeling, as Johnny starts to bite and suck at your neck.

Mumbling against your skin, you can hear him say, “I'll give you a show.” He manages to pull your shirt off before you even realize what's happening, his eyes still desperate and wanting. He has no grace or subtlety as he pulls your pants and underwear off, he doesn't want to wait any longer than he has to. Shrugging his shirt and pants fully off, he stares at you intensely. He moves a finger to swipe across your wetness, knees buckling slightly as he feels you. He leans in against your chest, beginning to beg. “Please, please, I wanna be inside you, love. I wanna give you a real show, show how good I can be. Please?” God, he's kind of pathetic like this. It's hot.

With a quick nod, he springs up. He wastes no time as he practically lifts you and turns you around. Now, with your hands grasping the back of your seat and ass in the air, Johnny leans over you and presses against your back. Kissing between your shoulder blades, he slowly moves his hips to yours, cock gently rubbing against your wet pussy. Unable to control himself, his hips buck at the sensation, earning a groan from both of you. Face still against your back, you feel him lightly bite you, trying to ground himself. 

Finally, he manages to calm himself, standing up and taking a deep breath. After a pause, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly. With a long whine, he manages to bury himself inside you, pausing to adjust. With a strained voice, he quietly says, “Oh god, you feel so good, squeezing against my cock like that. I’m already sensitive, you know.” After a short pause, he starts to move, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces against him. “Shit, I should’ve fucked you earlier. I’ve been missing out,” he manages to get out as he speeds up, reveling in the way you mewl under him.

He’s moving at a breakneck pace now, gripping your hips desperately, and sputtering out praise. Without slowing, his hands shoot out, wrapping around your neck and grabbing your jaw. He’s using your head as leverage, but he manages to fuck you even deeper. He gently turns your head to the back corner of the theater, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention. “See right there? That’s where the camera is. Go ahead, put on a show, baby.” Despite his confident words, his voice is higher than normal and breathy. His words shoot straight to your dripping pussy, clenching even tighter around him. His hips buck in as he laughs slightly. “You like that? You like being my own personal pornstar? Then come on, let me see it. Get louder, these mics only pick up so much. Don’t hold back, yeah?” 

You decide that he’s getting a little too cocky, and decide to shut him up a bit. Moaning out obscenities, you begin to bounce back against him. His hands shoot back to your hips, using you to stabilize himself. Gone are his confident words, replaced with the most gorgeous whimpers you’ve ever heard. His head dips lower, resting once again against your upper back. You can hear his quiet whispers of “Oh fuck” repeated over and over again like a prayer.

With scrambling fingers that dart under you, he starts to play with your clit, bouncing at the same rhythm of his thrusts. “What fun is it if I’m the only one cumming? Besides…” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I studied the game tape.” He begins moving in circles, and suddenly it’s like you’re fucking him for the 50th time. He knows exactly where and what feels good, what directions, and how much pressure to use. But you have no time to wonder how many times he watched you before his hips started snapping in shaky thrusts. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and with the energy you have left, you decide to put on a major finale. Head tipped back, you begin pleading with him, crying out, “Please come for me, please, please. You’ve done such a good job, I need it, I need you, please please please…” Unable to hold back, he cums with a harsh final thrust. But even in the throws pleasure, he manages to continue to play with your clit. You cum shortly after him, he whines at the feeling of you spasming around his extremely sensitive cock. He slowly pulls out, taking a long second to admire the sight of you bent over and dripping arousal.

He guides you into the chair, helping you sit down and catch your breath. He sits next to you, snuggling into your side and planting his face against your neck. He breathes deep, inhaling your scent and kissing lightly against your sensitive skin. He manages to mumble into your neck, looking up with sweet, half-lidded eyes, “So...there’s about 56 cameras in the house. You mind sticking around for an extra few weeks?”

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Kalim Al-Asim - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

­­­­[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Kalim: Woah! I've seen this artist's work before. I think we have a bunch of their stuff on the walls back home.

Kalim: So, the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art's gottem on display too, huh. Hehe, that's pretty neat!

Vil: Oh, this… I think this is a painting of the moment when the beloved princess and the impoverished, yet kindhearted young man were set to be married.

Kalim: Yeah, that's right! The guy on the left is the sultan, and…

Kalim: Just so the princess could marry who she wanted, he went and changed the law for her.

Vil: Oh, hello, Kalim. I wasn't expecting you to know the particular details of the tale.

Kalim: The attendants back home would read me books with their stories. I really like the ones that have happy endings!

Kalim: Oh yeah, and did you know? The sultan here loved to collect miniature models.

Kalim: In his room, he had carriages large enough even a kid could ride in it, and statues of horses with wings…

Kalim: He even had a model of the royal palace! Apparently he'd always be playing with it.

Vil: Mhmm. Quite the childish hobby for a country's ruler to have.

Kalim: Oh, is playing with models childish? I'm always playing with mine whenever I go back home.

Kalim: Once, I mentioned to my dad I was curious what our home looked like from above, y'see.

Kalim: So then, he went and made a miniature model of our whole estate and a special room to put it in.

Vil: He made something like that just because you asked one thing… I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from the Asim family.

Vil: But if it had its own room… How big was this model, anyway?

Kalim: Uhhh… I think at first, it was about the size of a magic carpet.

Kalim: Back then, it was just the estate buildings, but before I knew it, the land had been tacked on as well.

Kalim: And every time we added to the house, the model got an addition too, so it just got bigger and bigger.

Kalim: Whenever we'd buy new furniture, the stuff in my room, or my siblings' rooms would move around and change, too…

Kalim: There was always some kind of change whenever I looked into it. Sometimes I really couldn't tell what changed, though. Ahahah!

Vil: Even your furniture is a part of the model? Well, isn't that ridiculously elaborate…

Kalim: Yeah! That model is super awesome! The small clocks and furniture actually function, and…

Kalim: The roof and the walls of the model are made of the same stuff as our actual home, so it looks just like it.

Kalim: Water'll actually come out of the marble fountains, and even the trees and lawn are apparently made of real moss.

Kalim: Anyway, since it's a perfect replica of my real home, it really lets me feel like I'm a giant!

Kalim: Oh yeah. And on the ceiling of the room with the model, there are monitors and sprinklers…

Kalim: So night can turn into day, or it can rain or whatever.

Kalim: If the switch next to the model is pressed while in nighttime mode, the whole model lights up and it's so pretty!

Kalim: Also, we'd get miniature elephants and camels on parade…

Vil: Enough already! You've already convinced me just how special your personal miniature model is!

­­­­[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Vil: This is a painting of the Lord of the Underworld and his men.

Vil: From what I hear, the Lord of the Underworld's subordinates had the power to change their form and voice at well, and even could take on the appearance of children.

Kalim: Woah～ They must've been amazing. Oh, that reminds me, I once turned myself into an adult, y'know.

Vil: You turned yourself into an adult…? Do you mean you disguised yourself as one?

Kalim: Yeah! When I was little, my family and I went to go see a play and there was this one scene where a ruler dressed up like one of his servants.

Kalim: I wanted to try the dame thing, so that night after the play, I put my plan into action.

Kalim: Like, if I were to wear the household attendant's clothes and wear shoes with bigger soles, I'd look just like an adult, right?

Kalim: And then I even put on a huge hat and covered my face with sunglasses, too.

Vil: You really seem proud of yourself… And you're saying no one realized it was you?

Kalim: YEAH, IT WAS A PERFECT DISGUISE!

Kalim: They didn't even call my name, just said stuff like, "Perhaps it is time for bed, my young, esteemed colleague?"

Vil: They absolutely knew. No one in their right mind would tell their colleague to go rest in the middle of their duties.

Kalim: Eh? …YOU'RE SO RIGHT!! You're amazing, Vil. I never even realized before you said that just now.

Kalim: But then, how did they even figure out it was me?

Vil: I wouldn't call what you did a disguise or anything. All you did was wear your attendants' clothing.

Vil: Your behavior and speech were the same as usual, weren't they? Then there was nothing disguised. It was no different than you changing between your school or dorm uniforms.

Kalim: So if they figured it out 'cause of my behavior…? So then, I shouldn't've talked like I normally do, right?

Vil: Yes. Think back to the mannerisms of the attendants in your estate and how they treat you.

Kalim: Their mannerisms… Hmm…

Kalim: Oh, I think I got it! So I should've tried to speak more polite-like!

Vil: I wasn't really talking about something as minor as that, but… Well, I suppose that's a step in the right direction.

Vil: If you are going to disguise yourself as another person, you cannot just mimic them. You must completely change your mannerisms, speech, everything.

Kalim: I got it. Thanks for the advice!

Kalim: I know what I have to fix now, so… I gotta try again as soon as I can!

Vil: You're going to try again…? Here? And who exactly are you planning to disguise yourself as?

Kalim: Obviously, one of my family's attendants! This time for sure, it'll be the best disguise ever!

Vil: I think dressing up as an Asim family attendant would just be too conspicuous… But I do look forward to seeing how you pull it off.

­­­­[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Kalim: Woah! Look, Vil! There's a painting of a tea party.

Vil: According to legend, this tea party was ridiculously strange…

Kalim: It's super cool, don'tcha think! This is one of my favorite displays.

Kalim: It had teapots whistling along to songs, and plates that could be eaten after being doused in tea…

Kalim: On top of that, there was a cake that would fly up into fireworks as soon as its candles were lit!

Kalim: And their large table was just completely covered in all those tableware and foodstuffs! Awesome, right!?

Vil: …You look at that tea party and genuinely think it 'awesome'? It looks as though we have completely different tastes.

Kalim: Oh, you don't think so, Vil?

Vil: Mhm. That's because I like enjoying a quiet teatime.

Kalim: They say that the girl in the tale didn't even have time to drink her tea, so it sounded pretty fun to me.

Kalim: If I ever get to attend a tea party that's this chaotic, I'd totally be down!

Kalim: Ooh, or, should I throw a tea party myself? We can act out this specific scene.

Kalim: I bet it'd be fun to sing along with my dormmates as the teapots jammed.

Kalim: Oh yeah! Don'tcha think everyone'll be surprised if the teapots also danced and leaped around with the rest of us?

Vil: Yes, I'm sure they would be.

Kalim: Yeah, I can't just try to imitate the legends. It should be an even grander extravaganza!

Kalim: I'll have to prep a lot of edible plates… And a buncha different teas they can use to dip the dishes in…

Kalim: What's left… Oh right, the cake!

Kalim: I should make it a much larger cake than what the girl in the tale got.

Kalim: That way there'd be even bigger fireworks, and it'll get everyone real excited!

Vil: I can absolutely picture your dormmates running around so loudly.

Kalim: Right!? After that… Hmmm. Vil, you got any good ideas?

Vil: You shouldn't ask me, but instead ask your dormmates for their opinion.

Kalim: Yeah! Of course, I'll definitely check with them.

Kalim: But, I want to invite you too, Vil. So tell me, what kind of party do you want it to be?

Vil: [sighs] …I just told you. I would rather enjoy a quiet teatime.

Vil: Thank you for the invite, but I'll have to decline. Bye, now.

Kalim: Okay…  Then you definitely gotta come to the next party I throw!

Kalim: All right, which painting should I check out next? Ooh! Is that…?

Kalim: Yeah, just as I thought! It's artwork that shows the young man marching in a parade on an elephant's back!

Kalim: There were 75 golden camels, 53 peacocks, and a bunch of other animals and dancers following him...

Kalim: Looks like he was trying to entertain the whole country on the way to visit the princess.

Kalim: He went through all that effort just to make everyone happy… There's no doubt about it.

Kalim: This guy is definitely an awesomely good guy. I'm a real good judge of character, after all!

Requested by @starshiningsirius.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 6

Prompt: Dubcon/Noncon Pairing: Frat!Changbin x fem!reader WC: 2,170 Summary: Changbin’s boys went out for a boys night. Changbin stayed in to stay with you. You stayed in to work on your capstone.  This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Changbin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

TW/CW: DUB. CON. Coercion, overpowering, pestering, objectification, constant boundary violations. Pet names: love, babe, bunny boy. Unprotected intercourse. Oral (m. receiving). Dry humping. Masturbation (male)

“Surprise!” Changbin yelled as he threw open the door to greet you. The boys were all gone for once. All the boys except for your boy. Changbin instead of being social and going out for boys night had decided to forgo the movie and drinks for working out and lazing around.  Arms laden with a tote full of books, your overnight bag, and your laptop bag, you tried to feign excitement for him. “Yay?” You push past him to drop your things in the entryway. “It’s…it’s so quiet.” You marvel. “I can hear my own thoughts.”  Changbin attaches himself to you immediately, full weight pinning you to the wall as his hand delves into your jeans with a groan. “I’m gonna fuck you on every horizontal surface. Shit, even the vertical ones. Gonna make this apartment ours.” He promises as covers your neck and shoulder in kisses and bites.  You shove your elbow into his side, he barely budges. “Binnie,” you whine, “hey, hey, HEY! I have work! I have work!” Your plees crescendo into shouts, finally bucking him off.  He stands stock still, eyes wide and lip pouted like a puppy. “Study later?” Asking, aegyo voice in full effect. It’s hard not to roll your eyes as his switch up from domineering to begging. It was the duality of the man you loved.  “No, study now. The faster I study the faster we can fuck,” you say the magic word and watch his face light up. “Maybe fuck, MAYBE.”

 Your belongings practically levitate to his room, Changbin in full cheerleader mode. All in the name of getting your work done so that he can have his way with your cute ass. He tries so hard, really, he does. Practically hovering over you to make sure any need you have is met. Water? Check. Post-it notes? Check. Snacks? Check. He sits eagerly in his computer chair awaiting your requests, no matter how small.  But even the best of boys gets impatient with a cute girl lounging in their bed. Belly down into the mattress the natural curve of your spine up to your perky ass has him fantasizing about all the things he wanted tonight, each passing minute needing to narrow down his list. You suck on the cap of your pen, a habit that helped you focus, an oral fixation. Oh it was too much for him, watchin you poke at your upper lip before placing it just between them. He shoves his hand down his pants, thumbing over the head of his dick as it flexes.  You see him out of the corner of your eye, staring at you unabashedly as a conspicuous lump in his pants moves in time with his breaths. “Changbin, are you kidding me? Are you getting off in the corner?”  “You won’t stop sucking that pen so yeah. Yeah I’m getting off to my girlfriend. Sue me.” He keeps pumping his fist as you glare at him, gaze quickly shifting back to your laptop screen. Your mild annoyance is a little hot. Or is it your attention that he gets off on? Changbin doesn’t think much further about it, getting out of his computer chair to stand just over your shoulder. “Maybe you could help me, help you.” He offers, sliding down his sweats. “You know, something to have in your mouth.”  Rolling your eyes, you ignore him. You know if you give him and inch he’ll take a mile. The drooling head of his cock presses to the outside of your cheek gently, a physical suggestion paired with his words. Bold. You still stare at your computer screen, not even reading the article pulled up in your browser. He presses again, a strand of precum clinging to your cheek as he pulls back.  “Just a kiss, just a little peck? C’mon babe, I promise, you just keep putting that pen in your mouth and it should be me.” He whines, pairing his words with another jab, lower into the corner of your lips.  “I won’t be able to see my computer with your cock in my face,” you hiss, eyes unwavering.  Rubbing the side of his shaft against your lips he pouts. “It’s not that big. See? Just, just kiss the side for me. I won’t ask for any more, okay?”  With a sigh your lips pucker and softly peck his dick which seems to shut him up. He doesn’t stop though, continuing to let your lips rub against the velvety skin, teasing up along the veins. He knows eventually, eventually you’ll slip. And you do, your mouth doesn’t stay closed forever and eventually you refocus on the article and what do you do when you focus? You suck. It’s your habit. Lips curling around the spongy tip, letting it bump against the walled fortress of your teeth. Even this much has Changbin entranced, watching your cheek hollow as he tugs the head from your suckling lips with a pop. How easy it was with just enough persistence to slide even a little more inside with the next thrust, pressing out that same hollow leaving the imprint of his cock.  You don’t even realize that your jaw has slackened and he’s pushing further into your mouth, letting your teeth lightly drag along the shaft. It tingles as he shallowly thrusts against your tongue, slowly lapping at his slit. His gaze softens as he loses himself to the inviting warmth of your mouth, tugging your head into a better position, even as you fight to maintain some semblance of studying.  “Changbin! I can’t-” you start to try to tell him that you can’t see your work, but he doesn’t care.  “Just a little more love, a little more and I won’t bother you I promise,” he’s breathless as he uses the opportunity to shove himself even deeper, cock head pressing past the tight ring of muscle and into your throat. Nose pressed to the soft skin of his lower abs he fucks deeply as your body starts to fight him. Gagging and tearing up, your hands come to his thighs, trying to push off of him but he’s unrelenting. Finally you tap him twice and he releases his hold.  Mascara running and saliva clinging to your frow, you’re unamused. “Changbin let me finish. Then you can finish.”

 His cock is violently reddish purple and ready to blow. “What if-what if I just hump your ass?” Changbin tries to bargain. “You’ll be able to see your computer. I’ll be able to cum. I won’t get in your way at all I promise.”  “Seo Chang Bin. You keep promising-”  “I know, I know, I know,” he’s already straddling your hips, palms pressing your jean covered ass. “See? There’s no way for me to get in the way here. Please? Please I really, I won’t get in your way.” Turning over your shoulder to give him a withering glance, he sticks his lower lip out in a pout. “I’ll get blue balls please. Don’t give your darling boyfriend blue balls.”  “Going to wish I gave you blue balls,” you mutter under your breath. “Yeah, okay, fine. Hump away you dumb bunny boy.”  Without a second thought he roughly yanks your jeans and underwear down, just under the globe of your ass. The drag of the fabric burns slightly, much to your mounting annoyance. Even worse is his fingers, probing between your lush thighs to spread your gathered slick along your crack. “I fucking knew you liked it.” Changbin smirks, the smug bastard. Spreading your cheeks to accommodate his girth he slowly runs his spit soaked length along your crack.  You continue to try to read this stupid idiot fucking article as your big horny boyfriend uses you like a toy. Pulling your hips up just a bit to meet his thrusts, he relishes in the way you rebound and jiggle with each push and pull of his cock. While he’d prefer to watch your walls stretch around his girth, this will have to do. His thumbs keep him sandwiched between as he humps away, force dimpling your lower back.

 As much as you try to remain head down in your research, the twisting turning snake of desire is awake in your belly. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck him, it’s that you can’t fuck him right now. It would be irresponsible. To get into a good graduate program you had to be responsible, one of you did at least. His lewd grunts and rutting was not helping you stick to your gut. Fuck, your guts weren’t helping, winding like a spring, tension without relief.  It’s not enough, his grunts and groans of effort as he fucks the cleft of your ass filling the room. He adjusts you again, your hands clinging to the edges of your computer as he grabs your waist to arch your ass higher. God you’re glistening below him and he can’t help but note that you haven’t progressed at all in your reading. The clock ticks closer to his roommates coming home and losing the opportunity. A thick finger travels your slit, greedy eyes seeing nothing but opportunity. Changbin slips a single digit into your entrance, cunt squeezing down and pulling him in.  “Changbin! Are you kidding me?” Your head swivels around. Try as you might to sound stern, your leg twitches as he swirls his finger inside of you. Vision going fuzzy for a second you blink extra hard to force your focus. “Changbin, are you listening?”  He pulls his finger from you, licking it clean with a smile. “Yeah I am.”  You don’t even get to turn around before his cock is pressing into you, your arm lashing out to swat backwards at him. “I gave you a fucking inch, dickwad!”  “Just the tip, I just need to put the tip in. Please it’ll be like two minutes, I’ll cum fast, I promise I’ll cum so fast if you let me-” his mouth runs a mile a minute, like a caught con man. The tip is already well buried past your entrance, thick ridge popping in and out as his hips roll.  To your chagrin and shame it feels so good. You’re so wet and ready for him the slide is easy, your protests is hollow as your hips fuck back on him, eager to fill your walls more. “God damn it, fuck you’re thick. Fuck Changbin.”  “God, I know, and you’re taking me so well. I promise, two minutes,” he pushes deeper as he leans over you, closing the lid of your laptop and moving it safely to the side. It’s that small gesture that clues what’s left of your rational mind into the fact that you’re fucked. Not just fucked as in being penetrated, fucked as in brace for impact. Changbin braces himself against the frame of the bed, knuckles white, using every muscle in his body to rail you into the mattress.  You’re screaming and shaking, legs scrambling to get under you unsuccessfully. The speed and force is overwhelming, leaving you breathless with each percussive hit. Your hands find his arms, grabbing on and slipping and grabbing to try to rebalance yourself. Sweat from his brow drips onto your back. Neither of you breathe, Changbin gritting his teeth. He could at least keep this promise, two minutes.  Changbin can feel his peak coming, fucking blindly into your heat. Without warning your walls clamp around him hard as your feet kick and legs stiffen. Gasping your release floods his cock and ruins the sheets, leaving you ragged below him. Just like a little fuckdoll. The ringing in his ears all but forces a crazed tunnel vision. He’s been denying his release for so long, delaying it and saving it for your wet warmth. Ramming himself as deep as he can go he practically topples off the bed as he cums, grunt caught in his throat, sounding more like a half choked whine.

 Both of your releases spilling out and coating the back of your things and his lower abdomen he rolls the both of you to the side to keep himself from crushing you below him. Small after-shocks rock your bodies as you lay quietly together. Changbin takes mental stock of the physical damages; nail marks clawed into his arms (deserved), bed soaked through (a small triumph), potentially sore vagina (whoops), and a growing hickey on your shoulder that he hadn’t realized he’d left. His hand rests on your shoulder, raising and lowering with your slowing breaths.  “I can carry you to the bath,” he offers quietly. “If you want.”  “Did you cum inside me?” You hesitate for a second, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from him.  “I got carried away- I-, shit,” Changbin drapes his arm over you and squeezes. Comically this small squeeze is enough to force more cum to leak out between your thighs, emphasizing his answer.  You sigh. It would be fine. It was always fine. “A bath would be nice, babe.”

Yeah. That’s. Well. As a debrief I just wanted to say again. Even if a person seems to “want” something you should always ask for consent. Even if someone starts out wanting a sexual experience they can revoke it. Fantasies and experiences should be planned beforehand and both parties need to agree. Anyway. I think that’ll be about the heaviest it gets.

Sorry Binnie i love you so much. Sorry i made you a pest.

[secret-subject]

How does it feel like to be hypnotized?

I find this question to be a hard one to answer. Loaded with subjection and people get very hung up on the details sometimes. It's funny because everyone experiences it differently, we know this. Everyone is different and responds to different things and ways to play with hypnosis. But what I also find interesting is how trance can feel different:

With different people

On different days

At different times

Let me explain.

So lately I've gotten back into listening to files, (recs later if you ask nicely) because after getting on medication for depression back in 2019 it felt weird to be hypnotized myself and I didn't really need it as much as I had previously. Now I've been off those meds for a long time and am now on stuff for my adhd instead so I thought I would give it another try and, it feels very different. Pre-2019 trance for me felt like a mixture of "blacking out" and "being really drunk", everything got really hazy and I would just sort of fade into the void. I've had experiences which felt more like an out of body situation. I dissociated so hard I just wasn't in there anymore for a little while, I had others that were just light and I could easily come up at anytime and chose not to. Because of my general training I was very easy, super suggestible and with the right people a lot of fun apparently. It has never been super consistent and it took years of dedicated practice to be like this. I think a lot of the time when people would see me hypnotized before people would assume that's just how I am, but I've been doing this stuff for years to get any result. Especially in skills like amnesia, body catelepsy, and even getting thoughts out of my brain and basic in and out of trance, getting "deeper" each time. But coming back with a proper diagnosis on my neurodivergence and the right meds changed the feelings I used to have ans has evolved them.

So right now, I've noticed a few things. The trance is less consistent and this is good? It's good because it tells me that well the conditioning is now less "overall brain is getting more sticky" like it would before and now "brain is very much more sticky but only for the ones who put work in or who I listen to a lot". I have a bit of a voice thing and I'm very picky so this works out when now adays I tend to also listen to my hypnosis creators friends work, it's easier and it could also be a rapport thing. I know them so I know that I can trust them to be safe and also I know I can back out when I need to. I've also worked a TON on subject agency since when I was younger I was very much a pushover when it came to hypnosis. Being a dominant full time now for the last three years after my switch era helped with this. I've gotten very good at saying no and highly recommend this is a skill we all learn, even though it can be a hard one to get started with. So yes, I know I can wake up any time (with most people) but I just don't want to. So when I'm listening to files I now notice the different people feel different. Some I find more relaxing, others I find more of that focus depending on what they say and how targeted the audio seems to be at me and my brains working mechanisms. If you tell me to "focus" and "listen" it's like a switch goes off in my brain and I'm there, versus a more permissive, relaxing vibe which tends to take more time to really get to me. This also changes on a day to day basis, but I think it's like compounding conditioning that clearly is building over time with practicing and training to certain voices.

The feeling started as what is very similar to my hyperfocus mode I go into on the daily with my adhd. It's intensely focused to the point where nothing else matters, and sometimes my eyes don't close on their own and almost wait to be told to "drop" or to close them on instinct. I'm very bad at relaxing into trance. I now notice my body flopping (being so relaxed I just flop over somewhere) a bit like it used to but not all the time. Sometimes this feeling is more like I'm frozen in place. I've even dropped into trance holding my phone lately and when I woke up i was still holding it in perfect place or practiced sitting up in trance, it's like a freeze trigger no one had to impliment. I've learned I can be just as "deep" of not "deeper" with my eyes open and in a sort of mid/waking trance state. I also noticed sometimes my eyes do still roll, so that's kind of cute.

Yesterday, I had a really intense trance experience, probably the most intense I've ever had in 12 years of doing this. It was literally seconds of it, the words happened and they hit me, my eyes were open the whole time but super blurred and I couldn't see anything clearly. I just sat there but it literally felt like a giant wave of pressure hit me and I was just in it. This insanely incredible force washed through me and I just went down so fast I didn't have time to think about it and it was just a couple words. It was like being just frozen in time with the pressure encapsulating you and it wouldn't let go. Normally I would have forgotten this (because my memory play is very well trained and I have a brain like a sieve because adhd) but I could remember it clearly, the feeling I mean, the stuff outside of how I felt is very blurry. I don't know or am able to remember what was said to do it, it just was and that was very interesting to know that in my years of doing hypnosis from both sides, that these feelings are still evolving for me.

Anyway, what does trance feel like for you? Does it change for you? And what kind of practice are you doing to get those feelings? I'd love to hear from people!

[writingthingsisdifficult]

It's been a long, long time

Steve Rogers x reader

Being on a mission, even with Captain America and Bucky Barnes, is a dangerous thing. One could become injured, and maybe even need someone to take care of oneself…

A/N: trying to get into writing again – it’s been a while (you might even say it’s been a long, long time XD ). Contains violence, swearing, bodily harm. Also pining and awkwardness. And a dose of idiots to lovers.

Obligatory English is not my first language.

Word count: 8893

***

The evening is freezing cold. There is promise of snow in the air, but none of us have the time to appreciate it. We have a job to do. Villains to stop, a world to save. You know, the usual. It should be a quick in and out again. Cap and Bucky are taking the helm on this, and I’m bringing up the rear today. 

The only thing heard in the cargo bay as we ready ourselves, check the gear one last time before they let us go, is the noise from the quinjet. Then almost total silence as the pilot switches into stealth mode. A buckle snaps into place, soft steps on the hard floor, a cough. It’s the quiet before the storm.

“You ready?”

“Lead the way, Cap,” I reply with a grin. If he only knew I would follow him through fire and back. 

“Buck?”

“Let’s go.”

The air rushes in as the hatch lowers, and we walk side by side towards the opening. The plan is to jump out once the plane is low enough and enter the base on the north side, then quietly and quickly take out the enemy before we wipe the system in the control room. I do believe there’s a possibility of fire too.

I glance up at Steve. He’s standing still, his face focused and serious, no doubt going over the plan in his head again. To think I would have the privilege of working with him, and Bucky, like this… I feel like I’ve proven myself to… well, myself. And I never really thought that he would be standing here, so close to me. There’s so much I want to say, to tell him, but words can wait until another day. Right now we have a task to do.

I stare into the darkness, watching the tiny lights in the distance grow larger and larger. Good thing I’ve never been afraid of heights. 

Steve jumps first, then Bucky, and soon I follow suit. It’s a short, but exhilarating trip through the air before I hit the ground, tucking my body to do a front flip, and landing on my feet. Then I carefully fold the small parachute and stuff it back into the pouch, sending a quiet thanks to Stark and his nanotech.

Before I allow myself to be proud of my landing, I take a moment to make sure both Steve and Bucky are ok. They look like they’re just out for an evening stroll.  Steve adjusts his shield and gestures silently towards the base. A wordless ‘let’s go’, waiting for confirmation from us. Bucky rolls his shoulders, I nod. The snow on the ground muffles the sound of our steps as we slip undetected into the base.

Peeking around the corner of the nearest building, a shed or storage of some sort, Steve holds up three fingers, then points to the left. Guards. Not unexpected. We all know what to do. Bucky pulls himself up onto the roof. I can’t see him in the dark, but I know he’s positioning himself for an attack.

“Think you can get them to come a bit closer?” Steve whispers, so close to my ear that I can feel the warmth of his breath. A slight tremble ripples over my body, and the hair on the nape of my neck rises. Jeez! That man is going to be the death of me.

“Of course,” I reply confidently, trying hard to not give away that I was two seconds from sinking to my knees in front of him. Holding my head high, I saunter into the lamplight. “Hey, boys. What’s a girl gotta do to have some fun around here?”

Three heads snap up, and after a moment of confusion, they charge, momentarily forgetting the guns in their hands. I whip out my batons and power up the charge, but before I can do anything, Bucky lands on top of the biggest guy. I can hear the snap of the guard’s leg breaking from here; it sends chills down my spine. He groans and mutters something inaudible, but before he can finish his sentence, Bucky’s fist connects with his nose.

Steve whips around the corner, taking the other guards by surprise – at least if we go by the yelling and cursing. And so it begins. I have to keep myself from laughing with the adrenaline and thrill. I almost feel lightheaded as my energy rushes through me. The middle of my baton strikes the soldier’s shin, sending him to the ground. I leap on him, shoving my knee squarely in his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Then I bring a baton round, activating the switch to send a jolt of electricity through his neck. He collapses down into the snow and twitches for a few seconds.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Steve land a solid blow to the jaw of one of the guards, making him drop like a sack of potatoes. I grant myself a small smile. He returns it when he sees me.

The base isn’t fully manned, but there are still enough soldiers to make me break out a sweat. They’re not very disciplined, though, throwing punches this way and that. Finally a bullet whizzes past, hitting the wall behind us with a bang, but before the shooter can even think about pulling the trigger again, Steve’s shield hits both him and the gun. A previously unseen soldier makes his way to pick it up, but Bucky beats him to it, and knocks him down before throwing the shield back to Steve. The way his shoulders roll with the catch sends a shiver down my spine and heat to my ears. I can only imagine how that would look without the suit. 

“Get a grip! You’re working!” I mutter to myself, shaking my head to clear my mind. But that moment of distraction rewards me a hard blow to the jaw. I stumble backwards and flex it. Nothing’s broken, but it’s gonna leave me with one hell of a bruise.

The idiot thinks he got the upper hand and stalks toward me brandishing a knife. I wink at him and swing around to kick him in the chest. He staggers, and with a swift movement I am on his shoulders, my thighs firmly pressing on his throat. A garbled laugh slips from his lips, and then finally his knife clatters to the ground. The gurgling stops, and he topples over. I roll off him, get to my feet and dust myself off, satisfied with my work.

The fight has died down, the ground is littered with dead or dying men. We take a moment to get control over the situation, to make sure there’s no one lying in wait for us. The area is clear. All soldiers and officers are accounted for.

“Nice save,” Bucky smirks. “I was wondering if you needed help.”

Steve smiles warmly. “She doesn’t. Never have.”

The heat in my ears spreads over my cheeks. Thank my lucky stars that I’m already flushed from the fight. It would be so typical to be betrayed by my rushing blood now, after denying myself the truth for so long. I swallow the giggle in my chest, but I can’t stop the stupid grin. “It’s a team effort,” I huff slightly out of breath, ignoring the embarrassment. “Wouldn’t have survived without you two here. You good?”

Nodding, Bucky pats my shoulder. “Yep. Going to have a few bruises in the morning, but nothing I can’t handle. You?”

“Mhm.” I grin. “We made a good team out there.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, wiping blood from his split lip. “We do make a good team.” He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times to continue, but apparently changes his mind. Instead, he looks to Bucky, and then back at me. His eyes widen, dropping the snow he used to wipe his hands clean.  “Oh, Jesus! Your face! You’re bleeding!”

Wiping my brow, I wave him off. “It’s nothing. The other guy is worse off. Uh, what’s next?” I ask, shifting the conversation to something else, even though I know the plan inside and out. Now that the fight is over, exhaustion rolls over me. I had almost forgotten the toll a mission like this takes. 

“Easiest part left,” Bucky replies, pushing his hair from his face. “Disable the system, and then we get to play with flames.” He grins like a kid that’s been let loose in a candy store. 

“Piece of cake, that. Let’s go so I can get home at take a nice, hot shower. Get all this gunk off of me.” I smack my lips and wipe a lump of something thick and gloopy from my neck. “Ew!”

“According to the map provided by SHIELD, the control room is located right next to the main gate. Follow me. I’d like to get home and take a shower too.” Steve takes off with light steps.

They’re a bit faster than me; I can’t really get my feet to follow. Not that that’s anything unusual. I haven’t got the stamina that the serum gives, so I always follow at my own pace. 

Breathing hard and with adrenaline fading, I lean on the wall for a bit. I just need a small break. Unlike Cap, I can’t do this all day. At least not without a little pause to catch my breath. My uneven breath.

Something feels off. There’s static in my earpiece and a weird rumbling in my mind. I shake to clear my head, but it only makes me dizzy.

When I push off the wall, I wince. The right side of my torso feels warm, too warm, and it aches; that dull ache that leaves an ominous echo in my mind. Looking down, I realise my jacket is torn, and when I touch the fabric, my fingers come away dark and sticky. Fuck!

Glancing up, I see Cap and Bucky pushing on, already almost out of sight, fully focused on the mission. No need to distract them. I’ll deal. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point later.

The zipper sounds harsh in my ears, ripping through the air like a chainsaw, revealing the extent of my predicament. There’s a deep gash running from my bellybutton to my ribs on the right hand side. Double-fuck!

Cold air caresses the wound, snowflakes dance in the dim light. It burns. I have to blink to keep my focus as nausea creeps up, making me even dizzier. My tongue feels thick and fuzzy. No way I’m walking away from this. Rubbing my eyes, I get a final glimpse of Steve rounding the corner and then he’s out of sight. I’m hit with a sudden pang of regret: I never got to tell him… anything.

Time seems to slow down. I suck in air to steel myself, but it stops at the top of my chest. My breath is ragged and shallow. Blood drips from my lips, and I wipe my mouth with heavy movements. 

Everything is so cold. My body weighs so much, making my knees buckle and give out. It’s a strange sensation; feeling both heavy and so light at the same time. Stumbling forward, I suddenly lose my balance. Luckily I manage to catch myself with my hands so I don’t faceplant on the ground. The snow cushions my fall a bit, but the impact still sends a shock through my body, and by the feel of it, my palms are as good as shredded. It doesn’t take long before my clothes are soaked, and soon my bones are frozen through.

When I open my eyes, the bright white has turned a dark, rich crimson. I feel sick. I always knew there were risks being involved in my line of work, but this isn’t how I imagined I’d go.

Every breath is laboured, every movement slow. My lungs convulse and drops of blood and spit flies everywhere. Some hit my cheek, and I recoil from the slap.

I try to push myself up again, but it’s no more than a feeble attempt, resulting in a silent groan and even deeper scrapes on my hands.

Thirty seconds pass at most, but it feels like an eternity. As I sit on my knees and hands, quiet stinging from the cold and the cuts on my knuckles mixes with the throbbing in my side. If only I could have one wish it would be to say goodbye.

There’s a whooshing of something in my ears, my vision is fading. A nothingness seeps in, cinching it to pinpricks in front of me. To my left I vaguely register movement, but I’m too far gone to really notice. I just want the pain to stop. 

My vision goes completely, and shortly after so does my hearing, Gravity takes over, and my head hits the snow with a heavy thud.

There’s a commotion nearby. Or at least I think there is. I’m slipping in and out of consciousness as I’m bleeding out. It’s hard to get at firm grip on anything at all.

There is no light. No sounds. I’m wrapped in a cocoon, like I’m swaddled tightly in a warm blanket. Time is syrup. Everything is so hazy. I’m not sure where I am, or even who I am. Or if I am at all. Just let me drift off to sleep.

I’m jolted and shaken, and the amount of noise around me weighs me down; beeping and muffled rumbling and sounds I can’t place. People whispering. There’s a bird singing somewhere… I think. My ears are buzzing. I try to open my eyes, but the light is so bright it hurts. A soft whimper escapes me, but I can’t speak. The voices get louder, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It doesn’t take long before darkness consumes me.

A flare of blazing, white light flashes in front of my eyes. My back arches as a sharp pain shoot through my body. The savage scream that erupts from my mouth lingers in my throat, scratching and itching, biting at my consciousness, but the waves I’m riding pull me under again, and I don’t have enough strength to fight them.

Somewhere above my head I hear a frantic “No, no, no…” followed by a quieter “Fix it. Please.” There’s pressure on my shoulders. It’s warm. Pleasant. My head rolls to the side, and it’s dark again.

Someone’s calling my name. The voice is far away, but through the cotton in my ears the urgency is clear. I cannot answer. I don’t know where it’s coming from.

My eyes are crusty when I try to open them. I blink, and blink again. The light is harsh and it does nothing good for the growing headache that throbs in my temples. The room is unfamiliar with its light green walls and – I squint – colourful, abstract paintings. The air smells sharp, a little bitter, but clean. It stings in my nose.

There is… an attempt to sit up, but I’m pinned down by wires and tubes and my own lack of strength. The failed attempt tugs on the needle in my hand. Jesus that hurts! “Fuck!” The word comes out as a coarse croak, setting off a coughing firework befitting an old man.

“Hey, hey, hey… relax.” Light touch on my forehead, and then Steve’s face comes into focus. He looks tired, drawn. But he’s smiling, so I try my best to smile too. My lip cracks. “You scared us. It looked pretty sketchy for a moment.” When he moves closer, he reveals another person standing behind his back. I have to strain my eyes to focus, but after a second I see Bucky, looking so worried I’m tempted to get up to comfort him. 

I begin to speak, but that only starts another coughing fit. 

“Don’t. You’ve been… out for a long time. Here.” Steve pours a glass of lukewarm water and holds it to my lips. 

I drink greedily; I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious. And it washes away the rawness in my throat. “Thank you.” It’s a mere whisper, but at least I can communicate.

Bucky moves to my other side. “You look like shit!” He laughs at my glare. “Really, though, it���s good to have you back, doll. If not, Steve might’ve gone on a rampage…” He chuckles, ducking to avoid Steve’s swat, and picks up the red button. “Let’s call the nurse, hm? Let them know you’re not dead?”

The nurse shoos them out of the room, but she has to use stern words before they reluctantly leave with promises that they’ll be back. 

Feeling my forehead, she gives me a quick smile. “Right, honey. Let’s make sure you’re okay, alright?” She’s a kind woman with light hands, making the testing and prodding and questions almost bearable. She has to take my blood, she says, nodding towards my hands resting on top of the blanket. I lift my left arm, and she fastens a rubber band around it. The smell of the alcohol wipe sticks to my nose like a horse fly. The wet is cold, and when the needle punctures my skin, it’s almost as if I can hear a crisp pop.

I’m used to needles, have no problems with blood work, but when it’s time to change the bandage on my stomach, I squirm in my bed. It hurts, and now that I’m awake, I really just want to fix it myself. 

“Listen,” she starts, using the same stern voice she did on the boys, “I apologise for being harsh, but you died! You’ve been cut open several times, your intestines had to be shoved back in and rearranged, your body is battered and bruised, and I’m amazed you didn’t have any broken bones. By all logic your skull should be cracked. You’re lucky all you got from the resuscitation were a few fractured ribs. We had to keep you in an induced coma for a week just to let your body rest.”

Coma? What? I look from her to the window, a deep furrow between my eyes. 

She laughs, and continue dressing my wound. “It’s okay to be a bit dazed. You’ve been beat up pretty bad. But you’re gonna be as good as new when we’re done with you.”

The next few days goes by at a snail’s pace. Sure, I’ve got plenty of visitors. Nat and Clint, Wanda, even Director Fury swings by one time. Bucky is here most days. So is Steve. He doesn’t leave my side unless he’s told to by the staff. I’m eternally grateful that I don’t have to be alone all the time.

My room is filled with flowers and balloons and get well cards. But I hate being this helpless. Everything hurts; moving, breathing, sleeping… The nurses are doing their job, and it’s a fine job, but I want to go home. I want to sleep in a soft bed with warm covers, with a pair of pyjamas that leaves a bit more to the imagination than the flimsy gown they’ve dressed me in. I miss my TV, my music… I miss the freedom to do as I please. And I’m not afraid to tell the nurses exactly that. 

“We’ll see,” is the only answer I get.

So my days are filled with physical therapy that leaves me sweaty and annoyed – damn, I hate that walker – chatting with whoever is there when I’m feeling up for it, and dozing when I get too tired. Night and day all kinda blend together. It’s difficult to keep track of time.

Whispers draws me out of my slumber.

“You’ve gotta tell her, Steve.”

“I know. But I can’t spring it on her like this. Let her recover first.”

“Fine. But tell her! Or I will!”

“Okay, okay! Shh… you’re waking her!”

I half wonder what that was all about, but I drift off before I can think to ask, and when I wake up again I can’t really tell dreams from reality, so I say nothing.

It’s been a week and a half since I woke up in the hospital bed, and I’m about to start climbing the walls. When Doctor Lloyd comes by on her daily visit I moan about staying again. 

“About that,” she says with a bright smile, giving me hope. “I was thinking it’s about time you get some fresh air.”

“Yes!” I mutter under my breath. Finally! A grin creeps over my lips, and I’m half a second from swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. 

“However –“ She interrupts, stopping me with a look. Her face is serious, but kind. “You can’t be on your own. Not yet.” Her voice full of sympathy. “If I am to discharge you from our care, you need someone who can look after you at home.”

My face and heart falls. “But –“

“Listen. I’m going to be honest with you. You have been through four surgeries, and you have a very long, very tough road of recovery ahead of you. If you’re good, and follow my advice, you’re looking at at least twelve weeks before your body is back to relatively normal. And you need minimum two more weeks without any physical exertion at all. No housework, no lifting, no stretching. You will need help. With everything. Do you have anyone you can call?”

I grimace, fighting the sudden pressure behind my eyes. My head is filled with I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to! Of course. I live alone, and she knows it. But I can’t stand the thought of staying in the hospital for a moment longer. I discreetly rub a finger to the corner of my eye, concealing it as removing some gunk, but I know that if I’m not careful, everyone in this room will watch me ugly cry.

There’s beeping in her pocket. She fishes out a small device, nods and walks to the door. “When I return, I’m going to need an answer.”

“Fuck!” I groan loudly when the door clicks behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Steve and Bucky quickly get to their feet.

I glance over at them, blinking away the remaining tears before they can see. They retreated to the far corner to give me some privacy while the doctor talked. “I’m stuck here for the next… god knows how long.”

They cross the room. Steve frowns. “But I thought you were supposed to go home soon.”

“Yeah, so did I. Or… I hoped,” I reply with a sigh. “But they won’t release me unless I have someone who can take care of me while I recover.” I think for a bit, shoulders slumping forward. “My sister lives on the other side of the world, and she’s too busy with work and the kids. Besides, she’s already taking care of Mum. She can’t be on her own with the dementia and all. So she can’t just drop everything and fly out.” Not that I particularly want her to. We’re not that close. It would just be awkward.

“Oh.”

Bucky stares pointedly at Steve, nodding almost imperceptibly towards me, like he’s finishing an argument they’ve had before. 

Steve clears his throat stiffly. “How about, uh, how about you come live with me while you recover?”

My stomach flips, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because of the injury. Looking away, I swallow hard. “I don’t want to burden you with that responsibility.”

“You could never be a burden.”

“But it’s twelve weeks. And I’m gonna be useless for at least two of them.” I’m not gonna lie. Staying with Steve sounds like an absolute dream right now. But chances are it would eat me up to be that close to him for so long.

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Bucky and I were… discussing it earlier, since we figured you were going to need someone close by –“ He pauses. Rubs the back of his neck. “My apartment is big enough. Please, will you let me help you?”

Bucky smirks. “Yeah, please let him help you. Or else he might just go mad from the guilt.”

Guilt? Confused, I’m about to ask, but then I see Steve’s face, scrunched up like a puppy, mirroring Bucky’s, making me laugh. I shrink from the pain that follows. “Fine. You can help. Just don’t make me laugh.” I make a point of looking inconvenienced, but secretly, gratitude washes over me. If it has to be anyone, I’m glad it’s Steve.

“Good. That’s settled. Thank you.” Steve steps out of the room to make some arrangements, leaving me pondering the guilt comment.

“Bucky?” I shift a bit in the bed to look him in the eyes.

“Yes?” 

“What did you mean that he feels guilty?” 

He looks down for a moment, a grimace flits across his features. “Well, to tell you the truth, we both feel guilty. We just left you, didn’t even check if you were okay –“ He grips the metal railing on the bed, and I can see his face tighten.

“You asked,” I reply, patting his hand. “And I said I were. No reason for you to think otherwise.” They should absolutely not feel guilty. And the way I’m floating with relief and joy from getting out, there is no way I’m letting them feel bad!  

“Yeah, but we should have been with you. You died! You should’ve seen h…” He stops himself. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, and you’re gonna be okay, and Steve is happy to take care of you.”

There it is again, a small flash of something. But what? Steve would be happy to… My chest tightens, it feels like I’m going to implode. Just as I’m about ask Bucky what that means, Steve comes back. 

“Sorry about that,” he smiles, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “Had to make a few phone calls. Suppose you need some things from your own apartment. Natasha said she’d be more than happy to go over and pack a suitcase for you. And Fury needed to know where to find you should something happen.”

I look at him, bask in his happy smile. Oh yeah, I’m definitely gonna struggle for the next weeks. “You sure it’s okay?” I have to ask, have to know that it’s not just because I was upset or because of guilt.

Bucky and Steve react in unison. Arched eyebrows, annoyed smiles, and exhaling through their noses. “Yes.” And that’s the end of the discussion. Don’t think I’d be able to argue more even if I wanted to. 

Three hours later I’m wheeled out of the front door and over to a waiting car. Bucky tosses a bag with the few possessions I had while admitted into the boot while Steve helps me into the back seat, making sure I’m comfortable before climbing in on the other side. 

Bucky gives us a mock salute, then winks at me. “I’ll see ya later. And please wait a week before you kill him, won’t you?” He shuts the door, and heads over to his motorbike.

“Let’s go,” Steve laughs, shaking his head and gesturing to the driver. “Let’s go home.”

Steve insists on carrying me from the car, and though I protest, I can’t deny that I’m enjoying it quite a bit more than I should. 

He sets me down on the kitchen counter and begins looking through the cupboards. “You hungry? Bet you want something other than hospital food. I haven’t been able to go shopping for a while, but there should be enough to fill you up for now. I’ll call in a few favours, so you don’t have to be alone, okay?”

I start swaying. My muscles aren’t strong enough to sit upright without support yet, but it’s fascinating to watch Steve being so natural in a domestic situation that I don’t say anything, just bite down the struggle. Until I almost wobble off the counter, and knock a small knife to the floor. 

“Oh shit! I didn’t think… you shouldn’t be sitting without a back rest. You’re probably exhausted too.” It isn’t a question at all. 

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. But I am tired. Maybe I should just take a teensy nap or something.” The sofa is looking very tempting right now.

“Of course. You sleep. I’ll make us something to eat and come wake you after it’s done.”

“You sure? I mean, I could help with –“

“No. No, you’re not helping me with anything,” he interrupts, dropping the bread so he can pick me up. 

I feel like I don’t weigh a thing, floating through the air, securely enveloped by strong arms. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to feeling his arms around me, and I tuck it away in my mind to remember a rainy day. I almost forget to protest when he passes the sofa, but he just laughs. The rumble from his chest vibrates through me, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stay appropriate.

He nudges the door to the bedroom open with his foot and walks sideways through. When he lets go of me, I sink into the mattress. It feels like a cloud after the hospital bed. Steve glances around the room. “Sorry about the mess. I didn’t have the time to do anything special in here. Just let me put away the clothes –“ He quickly scrunches up a couple of t-shirts and shoves them into a hamper in the corner.

“What, is this… Is this your room? But… where are you gonna – don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep on the sofa! Nope!” It’s out of the question to kick him out of his own bed, and I wriggle to get out of it again.

“Relax.” He looks at me and smiles sheepishly, lifting my leg up again and tucking the blanket tightly around me. “That isn’t my bed. Well, technically it is, but that’s besides the point. It’s not the one I sleep on. Never really gotten used to a normal, civilian mattress, so I usually sleep on a field cot… And I was thinking… So I can be close by in case you need anything, I’ll just sleep on that.” He points to the floor on the other side of the bed. Tucked into the other corner is a mattress, neatly done with folded sheets and everything.

I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head a little bit. “This is awfully well planned out, Captain, considering we made this deal just today. I didn’t even know I would be released until this morning…” I try to sound tough and serious, but I can’t quite hide the twinkle in my voice. Trust Steve to have a plan. Even for this.

He actually blushes, and looks away as he answers. “Uh, well, you see… Bucky – and I – thought it might come to something like this, so I got it a couple of days ago. Besides, I’ve been meaning to get a proper bed for ages. And now I had a good reason.”

“You’re a couple of sneaks, the both of you,” I grin. My chest leaps with the thought of him going through all that hassle just in case I needed a place to stay. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says gruffly. He clicks off the light and glances over his shoulder. “I’ll leave it ajar so I hear you if you need anything.”

I haven’t slept this well in… forever, I think. The bed is perfect, and there’s just something about the room; the light coming from under the door, the scent, whatever it is, that makes me feel safe. 

Steve wakes me a little while later, a tray in hand. “Figured you wanted to be comfortable while eating. And when you’re done, you can sleep a bit more. It’ll be good for you.”

It’s dark when I wake up again. My head hurts, and my mouth is bone dry. A glass of water. That’s what I need. The kitchen isn’t that far, so I roll over on my side and slide my feet to the floor. But I can’t seem to get my abs to follow instructions. Instead I sorta hang over the edge like a slug, unable to get up or down. “Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, wriggling to get into a better position. But the more I try, the more I twist, and the strain stabs and stings my side.

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice is groggy with sleep. He sits up so I can see his head over the edge of the bed. Even upside down it looks confused.

“I just wanted to get a glass of water.”

“And you decided that you’d do that yourself. On the first night out of hospital, despite the doctor’s orders to not do anything physical at all?”

I give him my best puppy eyes. “Yes?”

“What am I going to do with you?” he sighs, helping me back under the covers. After propping me up with pillows and checking on my side to make sure nothing is ripped, he fetches a glass of water. When he comes back, he gives me an exasperated smirk. “Next time, just wake me, okay?”

My stomach drops when I see how tired he looks. “I’m sorry,” I start, feeling like this whole situation could have been avoided if only I had paid more attention.

He cuts me off. “Don’t. You don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“Sor–“

He shuts me up with a finger on my lips and a soft shh. “Go back to sleep. You need the rest.”

***

“I think I’ll manage from here,” I say when I’m safely down on the little chair in front of the sink. We decided on using the office chair, since that can spin, and it has wheels, so it’s easier for me to access what I need around the bathroom. Steve has already brought me washcloths, towels and soap, and I’ll spare him the horror of giving me a sponge bath, since I’m not ready for a shower just yet.

“If you’re sure,” he replies. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he adds when he closes the door.

Washing away the hospital smell that sticks to my face feels amazing. The water is warm, and the cloth is soft. I sigh with contentment as I let it linger over my eyes. 

I pat my face dry and move on to get out of the sweater I’m wearing. Ow! Each time I try to lift my arms and pull it over my head, my stitches sting. After three attempts and lots of quiet swearing, I’m stuck. “Um, Steve?” I call, trying to sound calm, but the burn in my side is concerning. “A little help, please?”

From my limited vision through the fabric I see his head in the mirror, poking through the door, looking increasingly worried, but with a crooked smile on his lips. “Jeez. How did you do that. Here.” He averts his eyes like the perfect gentleman he is when he frees me from my sweater, but he tuts at my stupidity and refusal to do as the doctor instructed. 

I hesitate for a second. “Um... think you can help me unhook my bra too?”

With minimal fumbling, he does as I ask, and before I can say anything else, he wrings a wet cloth and starts washing my back for me. I can’t do anything but close my eyes and breathe as he quietly fusses over my cuts and bruises, before leaving alone to finish cleaning myself. When he returns ten minutes later, I’ve turned into a towel burrito. 

“I figured you needed something to wear, and the clothes Natasha packed didn’t look very comfortable.” He looks down on his hands and then back at me; he’s holding an oversized zipper hoodie and sweatpants.

“Thanks. Those will do.” The fabric is soft, like feathers against my skin. “I’ll be right out.”

“Good,” he replies and leaves me alone again.

A couple of minutes and a good deal of fumbling later, I’ve managed to get into the sweater. Sure, it took time, and sure it was a bit painful, but over all I’m happy with my effort. But it’s another situation altogether with the sweatpants. I just can’t lift my feet high enough to step into them while holding them, and when I drop them to the floor, I can step into them, but I can’t bend down to pull them up. Shit.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I call for Steve again. “Help?” I squeak, gesturing to the grey bundle on the floor, ignoring the rising heat on my neck. I hadn’t thought of this; that I actually need help getting dressed. For some reason I’m not that embarrassed, really, more disappointed that I have to be that kind of a burden. If we’re going to make this work, I can’t let my pride get in the way.

“Oh.” He watches me intently from the doorway.

“Yeah.” I give him a flat smile. “I think I can get out of my clothes on my own. At least mostly,” I add when I notice the arched eyebrow and crooked smile on his face. “The zipper hoodie works, so that’s good. But… this movement,” I mime pulling up the sweatpants, “hurts. I can’t bend properly, so…”

“It’s what I’m here for,” he says, before quickly adding “to help.” He kneels in front of me and guides first one, then the other foot into the sweatpants, while I hang onto his shoulders for dear life, and he looks away while pulling them up. Only when they’re safely tied and hanging, do I drop the towel. 

I want to thank him, but no sounds come when I open my mouth. So I settle on a smile and a nod, though that is wildly insufficient.

“Sit,” he orders, but his voice is mild, and once I’m down again, he turns the chair around so my back is towards the sink. 

You would think that Steve has done all this before. He knows precisely what he needs to do, and he’s the gentlest being on the earth in this moment, tenderly lowering my head into the sink and making sure I’m comfortable and that the chair doesn’t roll away, all while silently asking me if it’s okay.

“Mhm.” I close my eyes, savouring the sensation of warm, running water over my scalp. Then he begins to massage, and I melt into the chair. An obscene noise rises in my throat, but I swallow thickly, settling for a quiet hum instead. I can get used to this.

The last of the hospital sweat swirls down the drain, replaced by the clean smell of shampoo. That it’s Steve doing it is just icing on the cake. Now, if just that stupid sting in my side could disappear too, my life would be perfect.

With my hair wrapped in a new towel, he picks me up and carries me to the living room. I’m pretty sure I could walk if I wanted, but what’s life without a little exploitation of the situation?

It quickly becomes a routine, him helping me with the things I can’t do, carrying me from room to room. Picking stuff up from the floor when I drop it, making food when I’m hungry… And my heart swells for every kind gesture. I feel like I’m about to explode.

My strength and pain fluctuate over the weeks. Some days I’m ready to take on the world, and Steve has to remind me that I still have a long way to go, others I can hardly get out of bed, but my recovery is definitely moving forward. Before long I can even sit up without support for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

***

The tape tugs on my skin, and I’m glad I only have to change the bandage every other day. I hiss as I pull on it, but I just can’t get myself to rip it off quickly today. Taking a deep breath, I change my grip and try again, but no luck.

“You decent?” Steve’s voice floats through the door, and moments later, his head pops in.

“Yeah,” I answer, not even looking up to see that he’s already in the room.

He gently pushes my hands out of the way. “Let me,” he says, soothing over the red skin where I’ve already managed to remove the tape. His eyes lock with mine, and he gives me a quick smile. “I’ll count to three, then pull, okay?”

I nod and breathe in, then out again. 

“One, two –“ He pulls. 

I let out a loud yelp. “Oh, you fucker!” 

“There you go. Good girl.”

My mind blanks. Did he really…? I hold my breath for a few seconds in fear of making some sound I’ll regret later. Through my haze I barely recognise that the new bandage is already on, and he’s pulling down my sweater. Just before he lets go, his fingers lightly brush over my skin, making my heart flutter like a hummingbird. I’m gonna need a month to recover after this.

He moves to pick me up again, but I want to do it myself. No, I need to do it myself. “I can walk.” I think. My legs suddenly feel so very weak, and when I try to get up, I just can’t.

Instead of commenting, he offers his arm, and practically pulls me to my feet while supporting my back. He’s right there when I take the first, unsteady steps on my own since the fight. I both miss the walker I had in the hospital and don’t, but I know that if I need to, I can always grab onto Steve. Or in the worst case, he’ll lift me up and carry me into the living room.

“So. What do you want to do today?” he asks as we slowly make our way towards the sofa.

“I don’t know. Not much I can do.” I’m not used to sitting still. “How about we just watch TV for now – well, I can watch, if you have other things you want to do.” Please stay with me.

“No, that sounds good.” He brings out a small notebook and a pen. “I have a lot of catching up to do. What do you wanna watch?”

Later that evening, Bucky comes traipsing in with his hands so full of bags that they’re stacked all the way to his elbows. “Food delivery,” he announces loudly, dropping the bags on the floor for Steve to put away. “How’s my favourite patient?” he grins, turning to me.

“Can’t complain. Steve’s being an angel nurse.”

“Good, good.” He’s already on his way out again. “I slipped in a chocolate for you in case you can’t take it anymore,” he adds, pointing to Steve with an exaggerated grimace.

“Thanks. You’re not staying?”

“Nah. Got a mission coming up. And Steve, remember: I’m not your personal DoorDasher.”

Steve laughs and follows him to the door. They remain standing, talking for a bit – whispering so I can’t hear them, but there’s an urgency to underneath their voices. I wonder if Steve was supposed to go on this mission too. A pang of guilt punches me in the gut. Bucky better come back in one piece.

“Be safe,” I say, swallowing hard.

“Don’t worry about me,” he replies and closes the door behind him. Steve busies himself with the groceries.

“What kind of mission?” I ask when he finally sits down again.

“Huh?”

I frown. “Bucky. What was the mission?”

“Oh, didn’t ask. Sorry.”

Despite being so curious that I’m about to burst, I don’t ask again. I’m not privy to all communication between SHIELD and their agents.

***

Steve is gone. He’s been gone for a couple of hours. Think he had to run to the store or something, but I couldn’t go with him. Which is okay, I guess. So I’m lying on the sofa, tapping my fingers, trying to count to 500 backwards. It’s something to do, to keep the boredom at bay. Every day feels like the days I stayed with my grandparents when I was little. You know; constantly a little bored, because you don’t have access to all your toys? But also excited, because you’re on holiday and it’s kinda new and regular routines don’t apply? Quiet days passing slowly, but pleasantly. There’s a kind sort of nostalgia to the whole thing.

Here I don’t have my books or stuff, and though I can always go get some, it’s not the same, because there’s nothing like that feeling of just browsing, picking up the one that piques your interest at that moment… I do have my music, though. It’s on my phone, and that is wonderful. But I miss my record player, and listening to digital music through headphones doesn’t quite give the same experience. On the other hand: I get to spend every day with Steve, and now that I don’t fall asleep from exhaustion every hour, I can actually enjoy it.

When Steve comes back, carrying bags and looking so deliciously domestic that I can’t do anything but sink into the sofa to hide my reaction, I breathe a sigh of relief. Weirdly enough, being alone has started to make me uneasy.

“Welcome home,” I splutter, trying to conceal the sound as a yawn. Outside the sun is setting, sending long, peachy rays that spreads over the walls. If I’m lucky, the colour in my face can be explained away. Not sure he’s fooled.

He gives me a wide smile and brings me a bottle of soda. “Thanks. What do you say we order dinner today? I couldn’t decide what I wanted when I was at the shop, so I just picked something. And now I don’t really feel like making lasagna at all.”

“I’m always up for takeaway. Did you have anything in mind?”

“How about…” he thinks for a bit. “Thai? Form that restaurant down by the square?”

“Absolutely!” He asked me one of the first days what my favourite food was, and I just said the first thing that popped into my head, being too preoccupied with the sight of his shirt straining over his shoulders, but it’s sweet of him to remember. And I do really like Thai food, so it’s a win-win.

Two hours later we’re both full, content, and comfortably seated in the sofa. We’ve made it a habit for me to lie with my head in his lap. That way I can rest, and I don’t have to twist or move in case I get tired. If this is the only good thing that comes from this situation, I will be happy.

He absentmindedly strokes my hair, watching the clouds floating by outside the window. “You wanna watch a movie today?”

“Sure.” I’d go to the end of the world with him if he asked me. I’m not ashamed to admit it. “What do you want to watch?”

“So, I’ve been meaning to… You know I’ve got my list – gotta try to update myself – ”

“Get with the times,” I offer with a smirk, looking up into his face.

“So to speak. There’s a lot of things I missed, you know, when… anyways, I thought maybe we could watch Fellowship of the Ring? I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, and it’s been on my list for a while, ‘cause I really liked the books.”

“I’d love to. It’s one of my favourites.” The prospect of watching Lord of the Rings with Steve makes me warm and fuzzy. 

Somewhere around Weathertop my head starts feeling heavier, and before Arwen has breathed out “What’s this, a ranger caught off his guard?” sleep overtakes me. 

It’s dark outside when I wake up. The light from the tv screen is too bright, illuminating Steve’s peaceful face when I look up. He’s deeply entrenched in what I recognise as scenes from Helm’s Deep, a serene smile on his face. His hand rests on my waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I feel an intense urge to reach up and kiss him, but I don’t. Instead, I hum and stretch and rub my eyes.

He looks down. “Hey.” It’s merely a breath. “I didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so comfortable.”

You have no idea. “How many orcs has Gimli killed yet?” I want to tell him, I should tell him. But I don’t know how. And definitely not now. Not when I’m like this. I don’t want to come across as a smitten patient who has a crush on her carer. Not when this is so much more. Damn! I’m in too deep. This is going to be torture! 

Steve chuckles and glances up at the tv again. “Seventeen?”

There is something in his eyes, I can’t decipher it, and instead of trying, I shift my attention back to the film, muttering “Hado i philinn,” simultaneously  with Aragorn, and lose myself in Middle Earth for a couple of hours.

***

The brush glides through my hair, followed by a gentle hand. Careful movements, every one calculated to do the least amount of damage. It’s a secret dance that we’ve been rehearsing for the last couple of weeks, and I’m sad to see it end. 

On the surface, my wound has healed. I can move a lot easier, stretch my torso, twist around. Yes, I still get tired quickly, and I still can’t stand for long amounts of time, but it’s time I take over my own bedtime routine.

I close my eyes, savour his touch, his fingers in my hair… It’s more than I had ever dreamt of. As I exhale, a tiny whimper follows. Steve stops immediately. Oh no!

He lets go and lean down to get a look at my face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was it too rough?”

Shit. How do I explain away this one? I can’t. I shake my head and take a deep breath. Inside me every emotion swirls together like a tempest. “No, Steve. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you do everything right. The thing is…” I pause, watching his face fall.

“Oh.” He gets to his feet and starts to walk away, still with the brush in his hand. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

Not thinking, I reach for his hand. I try to pull him back, but I’m not strong enough yet. The movement shoots daggers through my stomach, but it’s easy to ignore it.  “Wait.” The word is small and weak, but important. “Let me finish, please.” Then you can leave, if you need to, I add in my head.

He turns back, watching me with wary eyes. 

I weigh my words. If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do this right. “The thing is…” I repeat, then clam up again. Come on! You can do this! I clear my throat. “Steve… I love you.”

His jaw drops, as does the hairbrush. It clatters to the floor, but I don’t think he notices. Blinking stupidly, he just stands there like an idiot. If I weren’t so nervous, I’d laugh.

“I have for a long time,” I continue quickly, afraid I’m gonna lose my momentum. “But I was afraid to say something, because I don’t want you to think I’m crushing because you’re kind to me and take care of me, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship, or the team. I didn’t want to make it awkward, but now that I’ve spent so long with you, I just forgot for a moment, that I’m supposed to be normal, that we’re not…” I trail off, want to finish with together, but I can’t bring myself to it. Is he reacting? His face tells me nothing. Crap. I’ve fucked it up. “Steve, say something? Please?”

He shakes his head. “Uh. Sorry. I just… I’m…” A gentle smile. “I was going insane, trying to figure out how to tell you – how you make me feel. That I haven’t felt like this since I don’t remember when… And then you beat me to it. I could kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

“Uh-huh.” This time it’s my turn to blink stupidly, but it takes me less time to recover. “Yes. Please!” 

I stretch up to meet him halfway, ignoring the doctor’s orders, and throw my arms around him. The distance between us closes and we pause, just for a moment, to drink in the sensation. Both of us smile into the kiss as we melt together, electricity sparking between us, leaping over the skin, tingling in the hottest, darkest depths of our minds. 

When he finally draws back, my breath is heavy. I’m not quite sure where I am, but I’m definitely not complaining. Instead, I pull him back to me, and he follows, hungrily, to kiss me again.

[thefirstknife]

Glad to see that drifter's ghost is just as unsettling as I imagined. Why do u have cabal brains my guy. Why is it described as having "flaps", I've never seen another ghost described like that. I want to meet it so badly

Also interesting that it can change its eye colour at will, apparently using it to communicate. I like to think it uses morse code. I always assumed that the red eye mode was to signify its ability to manipulate darkness (i think that was the point of all its mods iirc??), and blue was switching back to using the light

Shell flaps is actually a standard term for all Ghosts! It's often used to describe their expressions. There's a lot of it with Glint:

"Since we're undercover, you know what I need? A disguise shell . Something… mysterious." Glint hovered eagerly over Crow's shoulder, his shell flaps tilted encouragingly.

Excuse me, um, Techeun Ylaia," the Ghost began. "Now that you're awake, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" His shell flaps tilted sheepishly.

"You really think that Humans created the Headless Ones?" Glint tilted his shell flaps obstinately. ... Glint's shell flaps went slack in confusion.

But other than that, yeah! Same! I love Drifter's Ghost and I wish we had more of it, this FotL stuff is really good for it. It's 100% unhinged and we have no clue what it even fully looks like, but it's definitely unsettling since it's made from other Ghost shell parts.

Link to the lore tab! I LOVE how it scared Immaru. Immaru acts like a tough guy but then he met an actual tough guy and couldn't handle it. I'm also excited about the possibility that Drifter and his Ghost did this on purpose, which would imply that they had a conversation about it and that Drifter gave his Ghost a go-ahead to do this to Immaru if he shows up. Something about how the Ghost just gleefully presented all the weird shit Drifter collects gives me that vibe. Drifter is usually secretive about it and I don't think his Ghost would do it without his permission. So I'm losing it about the implication that they actually talked about it because I so desperately want Drifter and his Ghost to make up and be buddies. Bonded over messing with Immaru.

Also yeah, his Ghost can change eye colour at will! Here, when it got transformed:

The next morning, it was forever changed, but it had a brand new shell of armor, reinforced by the guts of five other Ghosts. Its eye was bright red. It could no longer speak. The blue setting was still there, accessible whenever we needed it. But the red setting would save our lives.

I like the interpretation that the colour signifies what it's using. The same lore tab also explains what it actually does, sort of, and it seems to utilise both a wider range of Light as well as Darkness:

Ghost could now tap into spectrums of Light no one on Earth had yet seen. Spectrums beyond the Light. Don't get me wrong. I'm no herald of the Dark. This was a kit-bash job. But it was a renaissance for us. Gambit banks, Motes of Dark, the Derelict. They were all innovated out of that red setting.

I also love the idea that it uses the switching between colours as a sort of communication, like morse code. One of my fave Ghosts, I want more of it so badly.

[sophaeros]

julian casablancas for mojo magazine, november 2024 / issue 372 (x x)

Rock'n'roll Confidential: Julian Casablancas

The Strokes/Voidz mainman talks entitlement, respect and Arctic Monkeys

3AM (Pacific Coast Time) is an atypical hour to schedule an interview. But here's Julian Casablancas, zooming from Los Angeles, where the singer, for so long synonymous with the grit and glamour of New York City, has lived since 2020. He's a busy man: as well as fronting long-running garage rock classicists The Strokes - whose sixth album The New Abnormal won a Grammy in 2020 - he's found a refuge of sorts in his experimental, '80s synths-enabled group The Voidz, whose new LP Like All Before You is imminent. Talking to MOJO, Casablancas remains in shadow, his eyes occasionally reflecting dim light. "I can be a vampire," he promises. "You want a real rock star, bro? But I can be flexible and go into family mode too…"

What are you doing up at 3am, talking to MOJO? It's about the only time I have free. The rest of the time, it's videos and working with managers, going to concerts, social things… so l go all the way around, to crazy night hours.

The new album starts with Overture and ends with Walk Off - is there a concept lurking within? I guess a little. Maybe subconsciously. It hopefully hits if you have taken mushrooms. I had just watched Gone With The Wind, and they used to have overtures at the beginning of movies, and then we end the album with a synthesizer version. But it is not a rock opera story. If anything, the concept was going to be a one-word album title. At first, it was Zeal, then Perseverance.

How do you switch mindsets between Voidz and Strokes songwriting? Voidz songs are where my mind has been pushing me, and where I want to go, and where I am. But the ability or capability or muscle memory of writing Strokes-sequel stuff is just always going to be there. When those songs appear, it makes more sense to put them in each category, but it's not always that clear. But there's more 'no-limits' with The Voidz.

You recently said, "My current solution is to tour with The Strokes and then use the money to record with The Voidz." How did that happen? Years of drama and betrayals and horseshit (laughs). Honestly, l am cool with most of the dudes, and now we're more mature. It's not what I set out to do, but it's a fun, cool day job that I feel blessed to have. But let's just say I was only in a band called Zog, and whatever I worked on 10 years ago in Zog, I would not be interested in any more, I'm only interested in what I'm working on now. It's just the nature of music and creativity, you know?

What did you set out to do with The Strokes? I just wanted to challenge boundaries, and to have an ambitious collective of respectful teammates. Is that The Voidz? For me, yes.

The cliché about Strokes issues is that you were rich kids who weren't hungry enough. Any truth in that? Success affects people in different ways. I'd say there are some elements, probably from me as well, where you can be entitled… all kinds of bands have fallings outs and drama. It wasn't like, Oh, we don't need the money. I think it did take a lot of hunger to get there, but then after you've achieved something, when everyone is kissing each individual member's ass… OK, let's get back to work and do it again. It was like, Uh, no thanks. That's my assessment.

The Arctic Monkeys song Star Treatment starts out, "I just wanted to be one of The Strokes." What was your reaction? I thought, Be careful what you wish for. It was funny, and flattering. I have a lot of respect for Alex and those boys.

Tell us something you've never told an interviewer before. I've been trying to communicate with crows lately. I heard they have an intricate sonic language, but I haven't had any luck. It occurred to me that food would help, so I was trying to feed one M&M's earlier, but he wasn't having it. People can catch me making weird noises, trying to mimic the crow. I think the crows are more startled than the humans.

As told to Martin Aston

JULIAN, DOPE Five of Casablancas's crackers.

Brian Eno Burning Airlines Give You So Much More (ISLAND, 1974)

Benny Goodman Good-Bye (VICTOR, 1936)

Kate Bush Why Should I Love You? (EMI, 1993)

Max Richter Path 5 (Delta) (DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON, 2015)

BEAK> Secrets (INVADA, 2024)

[thewakingcloak]

The State of Things Present

this post was available for patrons a week early! please consider supporting me over on patreon!

I kept trying to make this post fancier and better and more engaging, and then I realized I was doing that thing where I make myself too overwhelmed to actually finish and post it. The other thing was I kept gunning for a once-a-week posting, and uh… yeah that's not sustainable. So here we go!

The Ghost of Spacefarer Present appears before you He whispers, very quietly, yet in a voice that resonates: "Time to resurrect the Spacefarer"

Ok so the spacefarer (me??) was very tired, but he's awake now and doing things!

Life status

We moved! My wife and kids and I packed up and headed some miles south of our previous house. It was a risk for sure. We didn't know how things would pan out. We really needed to get away from our old environment, our old town, our old house. We loved that house, and we'd said so to each other many times even as we were halfheartedly searching for a new one. But at some point that house had become too burdened with bad memories and traumas, not to mention that after the pandemic, we had no more real roots there. Everyone had moved away, the communities we were involved with had disbanded or changed. And anyway, my wife would be starting a new teaching job down south.

We were fortunate enough to find a new house we loved, and fortunate enough to be in a position where we could actually make the move. I'm aware this is a privilege, given the economy and the market, and so I can only express my thankfulness and consider it a blessing, especially as we healed through our grief.

I have an improved office now! This is where I work on my day job (software/web dev) and my unday job (Studio Spacefarer). With my genetics stacked against me, but also with my desire to be able to keep up with my kids and be there for my family, I collected a standing desk, a walking pad treadmill thing, and an ergonomic keyboard. I'm walking or at least standing most of the day now, which has made a surprising difference already.

I was gonna post a wider view of the office, but my 3yo son ran up while I was taking pictures and started "working" (mashing the keypad), so this is automatically the better pic. Them's the rules.

Anyway, in short, we made it, and it hasn't been a smooth ride the entire time, but it has been well worth it. I've been able to get back into gamedev, which has been a huge boon to my mental health too.

Speaking of… (ghostly drumroll)

Game status!

The good stuff. Here's where I'm at presently with Episode III!

The game is completable from start to end (definitely NOT feature complete)

Jumping, swimming, and dashing all work like a charm and are super fun

Three enemy types have been added, including custom A* pathfinding for the sea monster

Two new collection mechanics (one is heart containers, the other will be a small surprise)

Depth sorting and fake-3D, as mentioned previously, which lets me do lots of fun effects

Day/night are now on a new system, and cave darkness is now a thing (I tried to implement this in PD2 but couldn't figure it out)

Palette swapping for night and lighting effects now uses GameMaker's built in layer effects

Much of the game is now decorated

Updated the game's palette to be more pleasing

Better borderless windowed mode, frame toggling, etc. (I'd made a post about a third party plugin I used to do this previously, but not long after that, GameMaker added an official setting to be toggleable at runtime, so I switched to that… much easier lol)

New audio library which has been a MASSIVE boon (Juju's Vinyl)

New flexible debug/inspector mode which allows me to change values on the fly more easily

State machine rewrite using structs instead of data structures--extremely flexible and less  error-prone (in fact the data structures here were the #1 cause of crashes in Episodes I and II)

Save system rewrite, also using structs instead of data structures (thus fixing the #2 cause of crashes in the first two episodes)

Adjusted the way walls get displayed in interiors--will make a post on this later

Lots and lots and lots and lots of bug fixes

Post end status!

I'm not exactly sure how to wrap this up lol, but y'all can be encouraging me, if you have the emotional space to do so! There's still a lot left to do on PD3, and it can be very daunting at times.

Next post up will be looking forward to the future of Studio Spacefarer. I'm very excited about this! Keep an eye out!

[tanzdoesthings]

YOU WANT TO MAKE A COOL STYLIZED 3D MODEL LIKE ME?

hell yes i am glad i inspired you to try new things lets go.

firstly, i am assuming you know how to sculpt or went to this awesome tutorial (1) and learned the basics. GREAT! i am going to be showing you how to set up painting in nomad sculpt, and i'll probably come back and do one for blender in the future!

note: nomad sculpt is around $10 on ipad. i think theres an android phone version that is the same app and free? but its practically unusable due to the size of the screen and stuff.

so we have a sculpt. great! it looks WEIRD with the matcap. too shiny and not stylized. not what i want.

let's get a base color on. i like to use layers to paint non-destructively.

use the paint tool and stick some color on! i paint in this view to start out, because you are going to find out that unlit models are kind of hard to paint.

matcap is what we usually use when sculpting. we are going to enable unlit mode.

wow, its like lights give us a lot of important clues as to how something is shaped! if you didn't notice up above, i actually have a cube in the scene that is the same color as the background to create a very crude and easy flat edge to the base of the model. because there are no lights, there are no shadows! i have fooled you all.

we can now add in more lines and stuff. switch between matcap and unlit, so that you can use the features of the model to define where colors go.

here is the actual painting, without my shadows on the head, next to the one WITH shadows! you can see how the painting gives a flat color model depth, with complete control over how the light works!

and as a fun bonus, an actual WIP from when i was making this model! you can see how the antenna started as just rectangles, and she has NO ARMSS. i was still fleshing out the wires here as well!

in blender, its a bit more complicated, as you have to go to shaders and plug your texture directly into the material output, with no principled bsdf or anything. that's a discussion for another time lmao.

i hope you learned something!

plaintext link here! (1) https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuJsxA8NIizg2kUkf5NxJi68dIxCEKpSd

[salemsimsrender]

Blender Tutorial: Building a Scene Part 2: Creating the Room & Adding Lights

Welcome back!

Let's get started shall we!

I built out my set behind the scenes using the same process as in Part One, so for Part Two I'm staring with this:

Some things will need to be moved once there are walls, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

If you want to create the same scene, here's the objets/cc used:

Sofa, loveseat & small globe (base game)

Fireplace (vintage glamour)

Hand & hanging plant (paranormal stuff)

End table (realm of magic)

Rose vase by Natalia-Auditore

Crocus rug by Wondymoon

Step 1: Adding a Room

I'm sure there are "better" ways of doing this, or ways that'll result in thicker walls that more closely mimic real ones, but for my uses, this quick solution has worked really well without adding too much render time onto my work. So let's add in a room the simplest way possible, by adding a cube:

Adding it in gives us this mess, but it's ok! I'm going to size it up and move it around using the axes keys (x, y, and z) so we get this:

The shape and size of the room doesn't super matter for this specific render because there are no windows or built in bookshelves or anything like that, but that said - Make sure your floor is at 0 (on the grid) and the back wall is right behind the fireplace so you don't get any weird shadows when you render, like this:

Now, adding texture to this style of room can be a little tricky, but once you learn this process it's not too bad. First, we have to separate the pieces. Scroll/zoom out until you see the whole cube and select it (it'll outline in orange), then press the Tab key to go into edit mode:

Points appear at each corner of the cube, this is what we want. Select the four points that make up the ceiling using shift+click until only the top face is highlighted orange, like this:

Then press P on your keyboard to bring up the separate menu, and select "Selection," this will separate the ceiling from the cube so you can adjust its textures independently

Do the same for the bottom of the cube to separate the floor. Be sure to stay organized by renaming the pieces in your outliner! Now let's add the floor texture first, select the floor We're going to follow the same process we use to texture objects, but with an additional step. So go into the materials tab and select "new"

Like with any other object, add in an image texture node, but this time we're going to use a floor texture. You can get these from Sims 4 Studio by selecting CAS from the main screen then saving down the .png files. After adding in your nodes and switching to alpha hashed, you should have something like this:

It's a floor texture alright, but it's way too big, let's fix that. I like to adjust the sizing and rotation with vector mapping, which is way easier than it sounds! In our shader editor, we're going to add in a vector map node, like this:

Then we're also going to need a texture coordinate node, added like so:

Arrange them like this:

That will appear to have done nothing:

But that's because we need to adjust the values! I adjusted mine (as pictured below) and now I have this:

For floor textures, it's super simple because you only have to adjust the scale. For walls, it's a little more complicated, but follows the same steps. So let's add in a wall texture. I follow the same steps, and, yikes:

This is obviously not what we want, but we can adjust it with texture mapping! The most important step is to adjust the Z axis rotation by 90, so that the pattern is vertical instead of horizontal. After that it's a game of adjusting the scale value until it looks how you want it to, like this:

Look at that we have a scene! I'm going to change my floor texture to match and add in the painting I just realize I forgot to add, so now I have this: Now I have this:

Step 2: Adding Lights

Adding physical lights (like the wall sconces in my original render) works like any other object, we just need to add in a point light to actually light the space. Usually I would fight these to make them transparent so I can put the point light inside the fixture, but for this simple scene I'm content to let the point lights hover just in front of the fixtures, like this:

I accomplished this by adding in point lights (shift+a -> light -> point) and using the axis keys to move them where I want them, then I adjusted the light values like this (please note that I'm set to Cycles):

There's a long and tedious process to add real fire (which I'll cover in a separate tutorial), but because we don't actually see the fire in the fireplace, I'm going to mimic it with area lights (which will also shorten render times) Add in an area light in the same way as a point light - Shift+A -> Light -> Area:

Then it's a matter of using the axis keys to move it inside the fireplace and rotate it

I like to rotate the lights to be facing outward and down, and I do duplicate the area light and make one more orange and the other more yellow. Then I added in a point light and placed it inside the fireplace so it all looks realistic. I ended up with this arrangement, but you'll have to play with it to find what's right for you!

From the front (my camera view), it looks like this:

I learned early on in my render journey that using "realistic" room lighting isn't always possible, so I'm also going to add a point light and move it up closer to the ceiling, to mimic a chandelier or ceiling light Now we have a bit more even lighting:

From here, all you have to do is add your sims and run your render! I hope this helps! Please comment here or send me an ask/submission if you have any questions!

Render School Homework

Your homework, should you choose to accept it, is to build your own scene and run a render of it! You can include sims or not, but if you do it and post it please tag me so I can showcase it!

[platinumaspiration]

well, @brandinotbroke just gave my ego the hugest boost with this tag game! I really shouldn't play this while in a bad mood tho :p

What’s your favourite sims death? I would have to say...probably flies. Never had it happen in my game (naturally), tho

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? 4t2 maxis match conversions, because it's gross and ugly :p No, but for real, I like all cc. People put a lot of time and love into what they create/convert/retexture/recolor. I think that should be recognized.

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? No...who does that?

4. Do you use move objects? Yes, kind of have to sometimes!

5. Favorite mod? I had to go into my main save for this one haha. I'd say...all the anti-corruption mods. And to piggy back off of brandinotbroke, ACR! The rest I could probably live without if I could ever sort my folder. Oh, also, one mod I'd really like to give a try is Story Progression by LazyDuchess.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? First purchased was Christmas 2005. My parents gifted me Sims 2 and then my birthday a month later I got University, I believe. I should show you all the video of me opening it and running off to play haha. First played was, I wanna say Urbz! and Bustin' Out. We would rent those from the video store.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? Alive. I recently found out my IRL BFF pronounces it as Living. I've known her almost 20 years and feel like I don't know her anymore 😅

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Rhiannon, one of my model sims, but all 4 of my models are my favorite. I really should put Rhiannon as a townie in my uberhood. She deserves a life outside of posing.

9. Have you made a simself? Yes, like 18 years ago lol. Ended up corrupting the hood trying to move me with my 10 same face kids to a new neighborhood. I've really enjoyed the premade sims ever since.

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? of sims 3 traits: absent-minded, light sleeper, brooding, over-emotional, nurturing, workaholic, frugal

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? TS4's #13 - Honey Blond

12. Favorite EA hair? probably aflongsimple or affuzzylongep

13. Favorite life stage? oh gosh... probably adult in any game lol

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? gameplay, I'll let @plumbtales and @kestrelteens do the building and inspo!

15. Are you a CC creator? I don't think I've created anything myself. I've converted a ton of stuff tho! I'd love to create something, but textures are so difficult for my brain to understand. I commend those who retexture!

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? Yeah! Baby Gang! lol, not like we do anything other than play online pvp games and share cc wips

17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) 2 is my ultimate, though I'd love to dive back into Sims 3

18. Do you have any sims merch? Maybe someday @microscotch and I can make something palpable

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? Not gameplay (yet).

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? Well, I had dial up internet until about 2010 so... figure that one out haha. But yeah, I was a semi-realistic kind of girl up until about... 2020? 2021? when i made the switch to 4t2. Still working on becoming completely 4t2.

21. What’s your Origin ID? n/a lmao

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? Oh gosh, there's too many. All my mutuals, I love ya and your cc! Even some people who are not mutuals with me are my absolute favorite. I could never choose haha.

23. How long have you had a simblr? I think I just had my 2 year anniversary.

24. How do you edit your pictures? I recently commissioned the Queen of Renders ™ @microscotch to take preview pics for me while i was out of town lol. She also made me a photoshop template as well. (Go get a commission, she's having a sale right now 😉) For gameplay, I let reshade do the work for me and crop/size it to 700x934

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? Brandinotbroke gave the best answer haha. I honestly don't know what kit EA can come up with next

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? For Sims 2, probably Nightlife. The first 3 EPs, honestly. Sims 3 has to be Ambitions and Generations. Idk about Sims 4 as most I've played is about 2 hours in Strangerville as the Beakers.

Gonna tag baby gang, feel free to ignore! @microscotch @tvickiesims @lordcrumps @simsisit

thank you again to brandinotbroke for making my day, my week, my month and maybe even my year.

[fabulous109]

My light- Embry call fanfic

Cross posted- wattpad under ScarlettOceanEyes

Chapter 5-Emily

"I am shocked it hasn't started raining yet. Jacob better be glad we made it this far before having to walk because he likely did it on purpose." I was hinting to see how Embry was feeling about Jake setting us up. At this rate I might have to simply ask him on a date. I don't know how much obvious hints I can throw at him.

"Earth to Emily. Your phone is ringing.." Embry gave me a strange look as I snapped out of my thoughts to my back pocket buzzing. Oh crap. I forgot to call Emmett to let him know I landed and again when I got to the Rez. Only one of those has happened and I've had more than enough time to get unpacked. "Yeah I forgot to call.." I didn't have to finish before Embry almost answered for me to avoid me getting in trouble. He knew how worried and overbearing my family could be, but all with good reason.

"Hey bro sorry I-" "EMILY are you KIDDDING ME?" Oh boy it's Emmett and Mom. Great. "A call, text, I don't know, maybe even turning on your location would be great. I called the airport and Billy. You are lucky, LUCKY I can't come there or else I would. He is with you isn't he. See this is-" Suddenly Emmett's voice switched to Mom. "Emily seriously is your phone even off airplane mode? You know we worry, but seriously Billy said you weren't there yet. Did he ask yet?"

"Mom, no. I am fine and yes I had it off airplane mode, how else would I get your call?  I must have lost service because no missed calls or texts. Car broke down so we are walking back and are almost there. No rain. The guys will have to come get the car off the side of the road tonight and my stuff unless they want to deal with an annoyed me, even more than I already am." Embry gave me a worried look and I mouthed back "JAKE not you." That answer seemed to ease his anxiety as I said goodbye to mom, who was still telling Emmett to go somewhere else before she changes my phone number. She also threw in something about dismembering him slowly if he keeps this up all summer. When mom threatens Emmett you know summer has began.

"They love you ya know?" Embry stopped and grabbed my hand. I wanted it to be so much more, however he always did this when I was any emotion besides happy or calm. "I know, but my brother is really upsetting me. I know he doesn't want me to be away from them. I might live here permanently or maybe not." I responded as he nodded his head. We've talked about this, but never beyond a simple agreement that no one knows the future and we have time. It's here though, times up.

"What is going to make your mind decide?" Embry looks down at me with his beautiful brown eyes. YOU is what echoes inside but I can't bring myself to say it.

Instead I needed to know something. I turned to my best friend and stopped walking again. "What would you do? I'm not a part of your tribe I don't know if I could live here. I'm afraid I would always feel out of place. Over staying my welcome ya know? Maybe that's what everyone thinks...maybe that's what you think." He laughs as if he knows I'm joking, which I'm not. "Embry I'm serious." I never use his full name so his eyes turned from a twinkling laugh or almost tears.

Embry simply responded "first off everyone loves you. EVERYONE. You're my best friend, why would I want you to leave? I've always loved the summer spending it with you. It's nice when the" "anxiety fades", we say at the same time. But he didn't answer what I truly wanted to know, instead he pulls me against him.

This is what I'll miss most, next to never knowing his kiss. Let's hope the boys have a great plan.

[skarlette1]

Pop-a-licious

--A prequel of sorts to Trojan Teddy.

There wasn’t a lot of income potential in being an ex-supervillainess. All the lucrative gigs I would have taken as the badass mercenary Kylie Kannar, or the profitable mayhem I’d have wreaked as the cybernetic supervillainess Razorgirl were now off-limits. My superheroine girlfriend Lodestone would never forgive me if I pulled that kind of shit anymore. She actually believed all that stuff about “justice” and “private property” and “not breaking people’s legs to make a buck.” Most days I found her sunny disposition both deeply annoying and completely adorable, so I tried to to be a better badass.

But a girl’s got bills to pay. My marketable skills that did not involve beating the crap out of people were minimal at best.

Luckily, there was one gig that skirted the line: Capturing other supervillains. As long as I didn’t actually murder them, Lodestone could hardly get mad at me for doing the exact same thing she did, right? Some of the creeps that I’d worked with in my bad ol’ days had bounties on their heads that were completely ridiculous.

Take this idiot called Plaything, for example. I could live for over a year on the reward for his capture, and the only superpower he had was to control fucking toys. We’d worked together once. The moron had tried to take down Mnemonica—the telepath who can literally read your mind—by flying toy airplanes at her! He used to call his need for showmanship ostent-awesome. We was always making up stupid, silly words like that. He tried to get me to use them; I’d rather slit my own throat.

I’ll admit that he got the better of Mnemonica for a minute. But when Captain Alpha showed up to rescue her and Plaything defended himself with a squirt gun, I could barely cut my losses and run fast enough.

But I did remember where Plaything’s hideout was. A smart supervillain wouldn’t have gone back to a place that other people knew. But would you use the word “smart” to describe someone who attacked superheroes with teddy bears?

When I got to the abandoned hula hoop factory on the outskirts of Skarlette City, I found a trail of trading card wrappers leading to Plaything’s secret entrance. Those things would have blown away in a light breeze, so he couldn’t have dropped them too long before. Charging up the taser implanted in my left hand, I headed inside.

The narrow hallway under the factory was damp and very, very dark. Rather than alert Plaything of my presence with a flashlight, I switched my cybernetic eyes to night-vision mode. After a few twists and turns, I came to a large room filled with shelves of dusty, old toys. Ahead, the faint sound of a wind-up music box echoed off the concrete walls. The music box was likely a decoy, so I made a wide circle around it, picking my way among stacks of dusty dolls.

Peeking around the corner of the shelf, I was stunned to see a bright shape just a few inches in front of my nose. I nearly grabbed it with my taser-hand before I realized it was just a soap bubble. A few of them floated between the rows of toy shelves, their reflective surface registering unnaturally bright to my cybernetic vision. Blowing bubbles was probably Plaything’s idea of a security system. What a moron!

I stepped around the big bubble and continued to make my way through the room. Every turn seemed to have more bubbles floating lazily through the air. That probably meant I was getting close, but it also limited my line of sight. I didn’t want to stumble blind across Plaything. I snikt out one of the ceramic blades implanted into my right hand and popped a few bubbles. They vanished with a sound that even my cybernetic ears could barely detect. The thinnest sheen of soap residue coated my fingers.

I continued on my way, popping bubbles as necessary. I passed a row of dolls that actually looked kinda cute. They reminded me of Lodestone, with their generous curves and delicate outfits of lace and ribbons. Maybe I’d take one to give her as a gift. She loved this kind of girly shit.

Picking up the doll, the lace tickled my fingertips. More bubbles popped against my arms. I giggled.

What the fuck? I don’t fucking giggle. Particularly not while on a mission. Something was wrong. I needed to withdraw and regroup.

Dropping the doll, I turned and—Fuck!

I tried to drop the doll, but my fist only trembled around her. Trying to turn and walk away, I only rocked on my toes. My whole body had tensed up, every muscle clenching tight.

More bubbles drifted by, bursting as they touched my skin, my clothes, my hair. Each one that coated my body strengthened the bizarre paralysis gripping me. Before long, I was completely frozen in place, my only movement the rise and fall of my chest and the occasional blink. Fucking Plaything must have laced his soap bubbles with a contact paralytic chemical!

“My, my, my!” came Plaything’s reedy voice. “It’s been so long since we’ve had fun together, Razorgirl.”

I tried to tell him that the only fun I wanted was to slice his guts open with my finger-blades. But, with my jaw and lips unable to move, my words came out as inarticulate grunts.

“Good, I’m glad you see the irony. The last time you were here, Razorgirl, you ran away from me. This time, you came looking for me. Now you can’t move a single muscle. I’d call that turnabout-tastic!”

I spit out exactly which of his holes Plaything could jam his stupid, fake words up, but all that came out of my mouth was a stream of drool.

“Oh dear, Razorgirl. Having your stubborn, active mind trapped inside your helpless body must be positively maddening. Let me help.”

Plaything placed a pair of plastic glasses on the face of the doll in my paralyzed hands. They were too big for her head, but it didn’t matter. Since I couldn’t look away, they dominated my field of vision. The glasses had thick, black plastic frames with the word “Hypno Specs” painted on the nose piece. Instead of lenses, they held bits of white cardboard with black spirals printed on them.

“Your problem, Razorgirl, is that your body is ready to be my newest toy, but your mind is just the same serious, grumpy, double-crossing bitch you’ve always been. These glasses are going to help your mind be more like your body. I ordered from the back of a magazine. Just look at them. Just watch the spirals go around and around.”

I knew the spirals were just cardboard. I knew they weren’t actually moving. That didn’t change the fact that I saw them spinning before me. My locked gaze just kept getting pulled deeper and deeper down the spiral, always moving closer to the center, never reaching it. Over and over and—

Fuck! Those bubbles probably had a drug that increased suggestibility, too. I’d had enough supervillains mess with my mind that I knew a hypnotic induction when I was subjected to one. It would be so easy to slide down that spiral and just fall deep, deep, deep into its inky depths...

Not today, fuckhead! Even paralyzed, I had ways to hold onto my mind. I’d learned counter-brainwashing techniques from my former employers at Event Horizon. I just needed to detach myself from the sensations of my body.

“Oh, Razorgirl! Your breath is speeding up. That means you’re playing the escape game. It’s a thrilling game, but one you can’t win.” Plaything held a bubble wand up to my lips, its textured hoop loaded with shimmering liquid. “Tell me your next move in the escape game, Razorgirl.”

Beneath frozen lips, I grunted out Event Horizon Resistance Training. The little puff of breath I exhaled inflated a soap bubble. It floated up before my face.

“What a pretty bubble, Razorgirl. Thank you for breathing your escape plan into it. Watch it float gently away.”

The bubble drifted toward the doll I held. I drew in a breath, desperate to reclaim all my skill in resisting brainwashing. The bubble quivered, but burst against the doll’s silky hair. The soft pop brought my attention back to those ridiculous hypno specs and their endless spiral. I had no idea how to fight against its gravity. My talent for resistance was oozing through the doll’s hair. It soaked down through those long, dark curls the same way the spiral was soaking down, down, down into my soft, open brain. My brain was ready to—

Fuck no! I may not have any special skills, but I was still the meanest, toughest, most badass bitch on the planet. He might have been getting his jollies by stripping off my tactical vest while I couldn’t move a muscle, but there was no way some flabby, pasty-faced nerd boy was going to get the better of me. I growled deep in my throat.

“What a scary roar, Razorgirl! Maybe I’ll let you play at being my personal lioness later. Or maybe my sex kitten. But right now, you’re still playing the escape game. You’ve lost some pieces, but you keep on playing.” Plaything put the bubble wand back to my mouth. “Tell me what you’re using to resist me now, Razorgirl.”

If I just didn’t breathe, he couldn’t take anything more from me. I held my breath. Maybe I could even make myself pass out and collapse on the creepy little fucker!

A pudgy hand slid under my T-shirt and pawed at my breasts. The shock of sensation caused me to gasp out Anger and Pride. The shimmering surface of the bubble seemed to roil with a wrathful red. Every wiggle in its shape showed my fury inside, lunging to return to me.

The bubble popped on the doll’s face. She didn’t flinch as my white-hot rage trickled over her plastic lips. What had anger ever earned me besides trouble? What did I have to be proud of, when I’d been captured so easily by Plaything?

The swirling spirals drew me in. The deeper I went, the deeper there was to go. Around and around and around, my eyes always falling into the spirals. My mind always falling under Plaything’s control. The more I heard his voice, the more his words became my thoughts. The more his hands roamed my body, the more he was able to shape my mind. The more he told me what to think, the more I thought with his voice. The more he rubbed my needy little twat, the more pleasure I felt about obeying him. Soon, I would cum for him and the last of my mind would pop like a bubble. Afterward, Plaything would be the only person who mattered to me in any—

“Nooooooo,”I whined around my paralyzed lips. I couldn’t lose Lodestone. Being with her showed me what else I could be, what else I could hope for—

“Poor Razorgirl wants to cum and submit so badly, but something’s holding you back. What’s your last, losing move in the escape game?” Plaything wheezed in my ear as his fingers roamed my body.

I was so close to cumming that my breath came in ragged pants. Gasping Love Lodestone between stiff-jawed moans, I formed a tiny soap bubble. Short and sexy just like my superheroine girlfriend. The one I would always—

It popped in midair. I popped in his hands. I couldn’t moan or writhe or roll my eyes or arch my back or scream. The climax burst within me like a firecraker inside tiny room. Sharp and hot and deafening.

Plaything opened a little plastic egg from a vending machine. Inside was pink toy slime that he rubbed over my naked skin. As flexibility returned to my muscles, I sagged into him. He gentle lowered me to the floor, my legs weak and quivering from the powerful orgasm.

“The best part of the escape game is that it feels so much better to lose than to win. I loved watching you lose your thoughts through the popping bubbles. And watching you cum when you lost the game looked positively pop-a-licious.” He leaned close to study my expression, his breath sickly-sweet on my face. “What do you think of losing the escape game, Razorgirl?”

Plaything’s eyes were dark and deep, deep, deep. I said the only word in my head. “Pop-a-licious.”

---

Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

All my fiction is on sale at Smashwords from December 15, 2022 through January 1, 2023, including my newest erotic novel, Panther’s Passion!

[victorluvsalice]

-->Crafting Barn: First Floor – I moved it into the crafting barn to make a display around Alice’s jewelry-crafting bench! :D Because I just didn’t have room for it in the séance room with all the other decorations I was trying to fit on the walls, and I realized that it would be thematically appropriate AND look cool for her to put those around the bench. So I moved the bench over to the spot where Simsonian Library’s food processing machine was previously; made a display of six box shelves from High School Years around the bench on each side in a “corner” configuration (three in the top row, two in the second row, one in the bottom row, like that, over each side of the bench); recolored them and the bench a nice red color; and filled the boxes with crystals – small on one side, big on the other. :) Looks pretty cool to me so far – Alice DOES need another small crystal to fill out that display, but otherwise, it works!

Oh, and while I was moving stuff around, I also moved the shelf with Victor’s three statues from when he was doing woodworking over by the candle-making station, so they weren’t just tucked in the corner by the stairs going down for no reason. :) Gotta have ‘em in a spot people will look at them!

-->Crafting Barn: Basement – And FINALLY we come to the newest room in the house (or under it, I suppose)! This again took some fiddling to get just right, but I managed to wrestle it into submission after a bit. In here we have –

I. Smiler’s Nectar Corner, which is the nectar-making machine and nine nectar storage racks (three columns of three) tucked away in the corner behind the stairs going down. I had to use ALT free-placement to get the nectar machine in the right place without the game complaining about it clipping into the wall – fortunately I was able to get Alice to start making some grape nectar during a pop into Live Mode, so I can confirm it all still works, yay.

II. The Food Processing Corner, which is the Simsonian Library food processing machine tucked into the opposite corner facing the nectar maker, with three Horse Ranch counters sitting next to it to store created items, like industrial-sized bags of flour and sugar. Very simple at the moment, as you can see – I'll have to see about jazzing this up with more decorations later.

III. Victor’s Alchemy Space, which is basically the entire other half of the room because all the alchemy stuff is much bigger. XD You have Victor’s cauldron on its special stone circle with glowy sigils (recolored black because I ended up going with dark swatches on all of the other furniture) near the “front” wall (lines up with where the entrance is on the actual barn), with the Vampires fancy book on a stand and a Realm of Magic set of scales on I believe a Crystal Creations accent table on one side (to look like a spellbook he’s consulting and scales for measuring out ingredients); a display of Crystal Creations glass box shelves for all of his alchemy potions on the wall, flanked by the decorative Realm of Magic side cabinets with all the bottles and such in them (one is even called an “apothecary” cabinet!), themselves flanked by two Realm of Magic pictures taken from the séance room (they depicted things like bottles and potion ingredients, so I figured they made more sense down here); and the couch I took from the back porch to the left, recolored blue with a dark frame and facing the cauldron so people can watch Victor brew if he wants. :) I’m quite happy with it!

Oh, and as one extra little touch (though I'm not sure you can actually see it in these pictures) – since both this basement and Smiler's "party barn" loft area have electric lights instead of the candle chandeliers used in the rest of the house (to keep electricity usage low), when I spotted the “light switch” wall decoration in the catalog looking for stuff to put on the walls, I decided “why not” and put one in each space by the stairs. Might as well add that little extra touch of realism, right?

And that pretty much covers everything I did to the house in between "proper" updates! (Well, except my adjustments to the pet obstacle course, but you'll see that in the "proper" update next week). Hope you enjoyed this latest round of "Victoria can't stop fiddling with the Valicer farmhouse" -- next time, the gang heads back to their San MyShuno store to sell some more stuff!