#tv planter box

[mordacitatis]

we had an orange bell pepper and saved the seeds. soaked in water for two days (to soften the outer layer and allow for easier growth) and now I have them all set out. i hope at least one manages to grow into a plant! i have one stashed in the garage, one in the room i keep my houseplants, and one outside on the porch. in the spirit of experimentation of course.

[id 1: a zoomed in image of seeds in water in a glass jar with little growths popping out of them. the jar is sitting on a white cotton cloth]

[id 2: two fancy feast classic chicken pate boxes and one chewy shipping box. each has a honeycomb cardboard piece taking up one half of the box, a recycled jar and cut up toilet paper and paper towel rolls on the other half, all filled with dirt]

[dscombobulate]

「 the grove apartment 」

— dakota visited her sister and baby niece in their charming and eclectic apartment by the beach.

living area

plaster wallpaper | ceiling fan, ficus tree, magazines, flower paintings, wall clock, tv , cable box, sofa & pillows, plant basket | strawberry triceratop | laundry basket | shoe bench | handbag | floral pennant | wreath | mirror | dvd player | book basket | end table

kitchen

windows | curtains | copperware rack | dining table | rug | calendar | fridge & microwave | gas stove | kitchen counters | shelving system | milkshake blender | blender | rice cooker & kettle | plate rack | egg case & hand towel | books holder, coffee bag, tea case, and bread box | tea planters | bottle warmer | box of eggs | recipes tin box | sandwich tins | tea tins | oreos | containers | food boxes & cans | cans | banana rack | tea box | toaster | breakfast cereal boxes

kids area

door | bunny rug | poster macrame | toy kitchen, shopping cart, and drums | bear | toy basket | pyramid toy | ceiling lamp & books | books | toy blocks | llama plush

bedroom

sheer curtains | rug | ceramic ceiling light | desk | desk chair | desk mirror | tablet | makeup bag | beauty case | makeup brushes | floor lamp | rattan mirror & macrame tapestry | palm vase | bed frame | mattress | end table

@felixandresims @awingedllama @nolan-sims @syboubou @kirsicca @joyceisfox @plushpixelssims @tudtuds @pierisim @sims-kkb @brazenlotus @caio-cc @harrie-cc @aroundthesims @valiasims @s-imagination @sforzcc @thecluttercat @littlbowbub @leaf-motif @officialsnootysims @imfromsixam @vintage-simmer @surely-sims @irinaseverinka @taurusdesign @plumbobteasociety @myshunosun @lilaccreative @linzlu

follow me on the following platforms!

✧ patreon | instagram | x | pinterest | youtube ✧

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Girls Night

“You owe me 200!”

“Fine! Just take all my money!”

You laughed, throwing the paper money at her and taking a sip of your wine. It was safe to say that you sucked at playing Monopoly. Ellie had ownership of all the railroads and utilities, Abby had at least 2 hotels on each of her properties, and Alex spent most of her time in jail.

It still wasn’t a match for you, who had 25 dollars to your name, 2 properties that only generated around 30.00 total in rent, and would miss the free parking space every chance you got. When your time came and you rolled the cursed dice, the Monopoly Gods decided to end your pathetic gaming reign by putting you in jail.

“Alright, well I’m out,” you stated defeatedly, taking a long sip of wine as your confirmation.

“Aw, it’s alright Y/N. Maybe you’ll do better the next game!” Abby tried but you shook your head with a quickness.

“Absolutely not. Not only is this game rigged to make me realize how terrible of a homeowner I am, but it lasts forever! Alex knows, she’s been in jail for the last three turns.”

“Hey, I don’t mind it. I just collect all my rent money while I’m in here,” Alex retorted.

You laughed as you heard the front door open and saw Jethro walk in with a grocery bag and a bottle of whiskey. You got up from your spot immediately, happy to see him home finally and walked over as he set the stuff down on the kitchen counter. He had let the team go home earlier in the night but told you he needed to stay behind to do some paperwork on their latest case. Abby was the first one to suggest the girls game night and it didn’t take much convincing of Ellie or Alex when the promise of wine, snacks, and a warm fire were included.

“Hey hun. You just missed my embarrassing defeat in Monopoly. Remind me to never play this game with your team again, they’re entirely too good. And I think Abby’s been hiding all the good chance cards up her sleeve.”

He chuckled as you gave him a welcome home kiss and started noisily poking around in the goods he had brought home.

“Ooh. Chips, dip and whiskey? You trying to butter me up sir?”

He smiled and pried the bottle from your hands. “Whiskeys mine. And it sounds to me like you’re already buttered up,” he teased softly, not wanting his special agents to hear your two’s playful PDA. With another small kiss, he walked out to the group of girls and surveyed the real estate war.

“Doing well Abbs. Bishop, I like your strategy. And Quinn, stop hiding in jail.”

“I’m not hiding! I’m just taking my time,” she defended as everyone laughed.

“I’ll be downstairs if you girls need me. Good night.”

They called out their farewells as he made his way into his little woodworking dungeon and you took your spot back, bringing the new snacks with you.

“Alright Banker Abby. I need a loan,” you pleaded.

————

The clock read 11 pm once the girls left and you cleaned up your game space. In the end, it was Ellie who won, most likely due to her incredible NSA analysis skills and you had ended up with at least more than the small loan Banker Abby gave you. Once you put all the furniture back and glassware in the dishwasher, you made your way downstairs to see Jethro.

There was light country music and a muted tv playing as you watched him slowly move the sandpaper over his newest project. He had finished the boat a while back and offered to build you some beautiful planter boxes for the garden you wanted to start once spring came around.

It was always a treat for you when you watched him work. His movements were smooth and calculated, knowing just how much pressure to apply or what angle to use and seeing him wearing his tool belt and covered in sawdust just did it for you.

“You gonna stand there all night?” he called out with a smirk.

Walking over, you hopped up on one of the counters and took a small sip of his mason jar whiskey, slightly cringing at the taste.

“You know who would be really great for Ellie? Nick. I think their different personalities would really even each other out.”

“Rule number 12, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. Since when do any of his subordinates follow it, including himself. You knew all about his past with the director and Sloan, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rule number 83. Don’t be a hypocrite,” you quipped, making up your own rule.

He gave you the look that you see from him to his team all the time but it didn’t work on you so you just smiled cheekily back at him. He stopped sanding and came over, taking the glass from your hands and finishing the awful brown liquor, your arms snaking around his neck. He smelt like a lumbermill mixed with a distillery and you loved it. You loved it even more when you pulled him in for a kiss and tasted the leftover vapors of his whiskey on his tongue. The effect of drinking your 3 glasses of wine had you feeling warm and fuzzy and made Jethro’s touch electric.

When you two pulled away, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “Let’s go to bed.”

Not needing any convincing, you nodded and he helped you down, taking off his toolbelt and carelessly dropping it on one of the tables before following you back upstairs.

[smulie]

A Simple Touch - living room catalog Top Photo: 1. upper body planter | 2. flower vase * | 3. mini statue | 4. frame tv | 5. wicker box ** | 6. stately fireplace | 7. vogue plant ** | 8. Armchair & stool ***

Bottom Left: 1. glass frame | 2. flower vase ** | 3. bookstack | 4. 3 wick candle * | 5. west wing cushions * Bottom Right: 1. wall painting | 2. square painting | 3. victorian oil painting | 4. boho corner console * | 5. gym bag * As promised friends, an interior ‘lookbook’. My way of showing how much I appreciate the love shown over the last few months. I truly cannot thank y’all enough! 💜💜💜

As always many thanks to all the cc creators! * paywalled ** TSR *** CF warning

[simstorian-blog]

Sandtrap Flat

(CC List + Links)

World Map: Oasis Springs

Area: Bedford Strait

Lot Size:  30 x 20

Gallery ID: Simstorian-ish

Packs Needed

Expansion Packs

Cats & Dogs

For Rent

Get Famous

Get Together

High School Years

Game Packs

Dream Home Decorator

Parenthood

Strangerville

Kits

Desert Luxe Kit

Build Mode

Felixandre

Soho Pt. 2 (Light Switch Medium, Metal Door Medium)

Harlix

Orjanic Pt.1 (Glass Roof 2)

Harrie

Klean Pt. 2

Klean Pt. 3

Kwatei Pt. 1 (Double Arch Short, Front Door Glass- Medium, Front Door Solid – Short)

Peacemaker

Rustic Siding

Pierisim

Tilable (Plaster)

Woodland Ranch (Wooden Ceiling)

Sundays

Juniper Terrazzo Floor C

Buy Mode

Anniee-sims

Lilah Prints (Mesh Needed)

Anye

Prio (Duvet)

Townhouse (Loopchair)

Awingedllama

Boho Living (Wooden Arch Floor Mirror)

BlueTeas

Curtains

Jasmine Teenage Bedroom (Pendant Lamp)

Allen Seating (Walt Ottoman V2)

CharlyPancakes

Lavish (Clothing Only)

ClutterCat

Baby Boo (Coloring Book, Pouf, Tulip Vase)

BubbleGum (Calendar, Color Candle I Big)

Busy Bee (Glass Jars, Pen Holder, Pencil Case)

Cozy Cocina

Fairylicious (Cushion Pile, Kids Art)

Sunny Sundae Pt. 1 (Candle Small)

Sunny Sundae Pt. 3 (Alarm Clock, Open Book, Vanity Mirror)

CowBuild

Minotti Ottoman I

Felixandre

Berlin Pt. 3 (Desktop)

Kyoto Pt. 3 (Bath Tray)

Shop The Look S1 (Magazine Stand, Tassel Rug)

Shop The Look S3

Soho Pt. 1 (Sideboard, Woven Rug)

Soho Pt. 4 (Ficus Planter, Stool)

Harlix

Baysic

Baysic Bathroom

Harluxe (AC Control, Book w Sunglasses, Light Switch, Makeup Tray, Mini Bar)

Jardane (Counter, Grill, Sink – Deep)

Kichen (Bowls, Glasses, Plates)

Livin’ Rum (Bookstand, Coffee Table Book, Frame Tv, Stacking Box)

Orjanic Pt. 2 (Foxglove Vase)

Harrie

Brownstone Pt. 1 (Sink, Shelves)

Brutalist Bathroom (Bathtub, Block Vanity – Centre/Curved Left & Right, Frame Mirror – Large, Rectangular Sink, Shower, Tiled Decorative Shelf)

Coastal Pt. 7 (Mirror)

Country (Bed Vase)

Halcyon Kitchen

Shop The Look (Wooden Bowl)

Shop The Look 3 (Coffee Tables, Cushions, End Table)

JoyceIsFox

Simple Live #7 (Cooking Utensils, Double Chopping Board)

KiwiSims4

Blockhouse Dining (Pendants)

Piha Living (Chandeliers)

KKB

Citrus Room (Samsung the Serif Ver1)

Ledger Atelier

Mohan Living Pt. 3 (Sofa)

Nordheim Bathroom Pt. 1 (Bathrobe)

LittleDica

Delicious Kitchen (Paper Towel)

LorySims

2021 Ford Bronco

MyCupofCC

Bathroom Collection (Woven Bath Mat)

Nordica Sims

Art Poster 01

No Style x Woodland

Annika Meabh Sofa

Peacemaker

Creta Kitchen (Bar Fridge, Short Lineal Light Beam)

Ellipse (Ottoman)

Kitayama Bedroom (Half Moon Headboard)

Kassova Sectional

Matilda (Backpack, Jacket, Knit)

Pierisim

David’s Apartment Pt. 1 (Books 3 & 4)

David’s Apartment Pt. 2 (Nightstand, Open Book, Pile of Jumpers 2, Pile of Trousers 1 & 2, Shoes, Wooden Side Table)

MCM Pt. 3 (Metal Sconce 2, Narrow Rug Long, Narrow Rug Short, Wall Mounter Accent Table)

MCM Pt. 5 (Hair Dryer, Hair Straightener, Wigs)

Winter Garden (Olive Tree)

Pilar

Osaka Lamp Oval Large

Plush Pixels

Calm Sofa

Ravasheen

Knit Happens Clutter

Procrafination

RusticSims

Kind of Modular (Books, Deco Jar)

Loft Pt. 1 (Lampara de Pie Petrea)

Sooky88

Justina Blakeney x Loloi Area Rug

Mixed Modern Square Rug

Sundays

Canggu Pt. 3 (Pillows I)

Kediri Pt. 1 (Throw Pillow – Solids)

Swell Pt. 1 (Bolster Pillow)

TaurusDesigns

Eliza Walk-in Closet (Clothing Only)

Tuds

CRIB (Pendants – Small/Medium)

Winner9

Yokeda Wall Lamp Triple

DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.

DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Tray Files: DOWNLOAD

[lucythornwalter]

Wait a minute, I hear you say. Why are we starting with Felicity? She’s neither the first girl to be released (that’s technically a three-way tie, but the honor is usually given to Kirsten) nor the earliest chronologically (that would be Kaya). What is it about her that means she deserves the first entries in this project?

Well, she might not be the first for Pleasant Company, but she was the first for me. In 1998, when I was five years old, I saw a single volume of one of Felicity’s books in a spinning book rack at a Hallmark store, and I asked my mother to buy it for me based on the cover art and the title (it was Felicity Saves the Day, and the cover features her riding a horse and looking determined but frightened). I read it in the car, and then read it again, and read it again. I was already fascinated by history and specifically by material history, by books about ordinary life in the past and books about artifacts and customs. An Usborne book about life in the medieval era was one of my favorites, alongside another Usborne book about world geography that talked about languages and religious beliefs. I also loved children’s-aimed history books and movies like An American Tail, even as much of the subtle commentary went over my head. I loved The Wizard of Oz and its period setting, and this was also the year I discovered Annie through the 1998 Wonderful World of Disney adaptation. In 1999 I became hooked on A Little Princess and The Secret Garden, and Cosette from Les Misérables and a kids’ graphic novel adaptation of Oliver Twist. I had a box set of the Little House books and had a favorite (On the Banks of Plum Creek, if you were curious. Yes, I’m aware of the irony of being indigenous and liking these books as a kid, but my parents were more concerned with making sure I never watched the turboracist Westerns when they came on TV, and by comparison the near-absence of Native people in the Little House books was pretty tame).

Essentially, I was exactly the kind of person who’d become fully fixated on the American Girl books, and on opinionated and spunky heroines like Felicity in particular.

So. Who is Felicity Merriman?

Felicity Merriman is the eldest child of Edward and Martha Merriman, who live and work in Williamsburg in 1774. Edward Merriman is a genteel tradesman who owns a prosperous general store, and Martha is the daughter and probable only surviving child of an unnamed Virginia planter who owns a substantial estate called King’s Creek. Felicity’s younger siblings are Nan, William, and Polly. Her best friend is Elizabeth Cole, a recently-arrived new colonist from England whose family is deeply loyal to the British crown. Her books are primarily about struggling to find her place as a straightforwardly masc-of-center tomboy who prefers crossdressing and working in the trades to mending and cooking, and about the social divides caused by growing anti-monarchist sentiment in the American colonies and how her friendships and morals are impacted by the political turmoil.

Felicity Merriman is also a slaveowner, from a slaveowning family, and at no point do the original six books manage to address this. In fact, they actively avoid it – the status of her father’s assistant Marcus as an enslaved person is only confirmed in the “Looking Back: A Peek Into the Past” section of Meet Felicity once, and while it’s acknowledged that King’s Creek Plantation is a slave-worked plantation with slave quarters, the text of Felicity Saves the Day never states outright that she interacts with slaves despite the illustrations depicting her in the fields alongside them. There’s a darker-skinned woman named Rose who assists her mother domestically, and unlike Marcus she is never confirmed to be either enslaved or free, forcing me to come to the conclusion that she’s probably also owned by the Merriman household and thus by Felicity.

This is the original and damning sin of Felicity’s books and character concept, and it cannot be escaped. Felicity’s social status protects her from a lot of misbehavior and allows her the luxury of a leisurely girlhood with easy education and no expectation that she work for a living beyond being a genteel housewife. She has to pitch in around the house along with her mother and Rose, but she has plenty of time to ride horses and play with her siblings, and she gets away with doing nothing all summer while her laundry and mending and food are all magically done with no effort from her.

This is also one of the twin original and damning sins of America-as-settler-colony – the irony of slaveowners calling for and fighting for a narrow definition of freedom with broad ideals that they only want to take for themselves is at this point a very old topic of conversation. The other sin, the theft of land and the genocide of Native people, isn’t mentioned at all in Felicity’s books. Felicity Saves the Day is at least conscious of the casual cruelty of the Merrimans and devotes much of its Looking Back chapter to discussion of plantation life for slaves, but the only mention indigenous people get is a comment in Meet Felicity that we lived in North America for fifteen thousand years prior to European settlement. Where did we go? What happened to us? Pleasant Company isn’t that concerned with the question.

As a result, Felicity’s books are best read with something of a critical eye. Once you see how completely and how purposefully slavery is erased from her daily life, it becomes impossible to ignore, and kind of drowns out all the other things that are still excellent. And that’s a real shame, I think. There’s a lot to be examined here, about girlhood in the 1770s and girlhood in the 1990s, about class and gender and how those things impact and frustrate Felicity, about how she grows in confidence and about her sense of justice. Those things had an impact on me – I was inspired by her at five years old and I can recognize that fondness and desire to be just like her now, twenty-six years later.

Ultimately, I can love and appreciate what I, personally, internalized about her story and her journey to womanhood, but I’m never going to be able to uncritically lose myself in her world again. That’s the best and most comprehensive introduction I can give, and even that isn’t enough to effectively answer for what Pleasant Company chose to do. I can’t defend it, and I won’t defend it, but this was neither the first nor last book series I loved that was written by racists. I love it enough to say it fucked up badly, and I will be talking about this as it comes up (or doesn’t) in the text. That’s the best I can offer.

So let’s Meet Felicity.

[hermaximalismhome]

HOME TYPE: Apartment

LOCATION: Bushwick, Brooklyn, New York

STYLE: Colorful, Industrial, Maximalist

BEDROOMS: 2

SQ FT: 747

PAINT & COLORS:

All Rooms — Benjamin Moore “Bancroft White (DC-01)”

ENTRYWAY

Coat Rack — ​UTIL

Flowerpot — &Tradition

Taiwanese Mailbox — Yun Hai Selection

Small Rectangular Mirror — HAY

Wall Ledge Shelves — Lichen NYC

Super Stripe Mini Rug — Verloop

Stripe Dog Bed — Dusen Dusen

KORSNING Rug — IKEA

LIVING ROOM

Sofa — Modern Hill

Shlf One Layer — KIOSK48TH

Shlf Three Layer — KIOSK48TH

The Blot Rug — Mush Studios

The Dandi Pillow — Mush Studios

Tubo Bookend — Bi-Rite Studios

Fenestra Bookends — MoMA Design Store

Sowden Tin — HAY

Sowden Water Bottle — HAY

Pillar Candle — HAY

PC Portable Lamp — HAY

Hemisphere Clock — Design Within Reach

Kirby Vase — Areaware

XL Globe Floor Lamp — Urban Outfitters

KITCHEN

Aluminum Float Shelf — Bestcase

Great Jones x Fellow Kettle — ​Great Jones

Great Jones x Zander Schlacter Dutch Baby — Great Jones

Bodum Programmable 12-Cup Coffee Maker — MoMA Design Store

Salt & Pepper Grinder — Mohd

Toaster — Mohd

Arcs Case — HAY

DINING ROOM

Memphis Dining Chairs — ​Betsu Studios

Daphne Concrete Dining Table — Urban Outfitters

Frame TV — Samsung

Frame TV Wall Mount — Samsung

BEDROOM

Bookcase Miniature — Memphis Milano

Shiva Vase — BD Barcelona

Super Lamp — Memphis Milano

The Dune Rug — Mush Studios

BLOQUE 7 in Sottsass Red — Bonne Choice

Aria Headboard — Urban Outfitters

Roma Wavy Wall Mirror — Urban Outfitters

Credenza — CB2

Bed Frame — Keetsa

Stripe Knit Throw — ​Verloop

Object Poster — Gustaf Westman

SOWDEN PL1 Portable Lamp — MoMA Design Store

Shaped Pillar Candle — H&M Home

A thing on a table in a house — Apartmento

Wallpaper* City Guide — Wallpaper

IDROTTSHALL Rug — IKEA

HOME OFFICE

Shogun Lamp — ​Artemide

Pier Shelving System — Design Within Reach

Uten Silo Large — Herman Miller

Perpetual Ring-A-Date Wall Calendar — Home Union NYC

Anya Sconce — Urban Outfitters

Striped Canisters — Dusen Dusen

Everybody Kitchen Timer — Dusen Dusen

Everybody Tissue Box — Areaware

Pesa Candle Holder — Hem

Molino Grinder — Hem

Handmade Storage Boxes — HKLiving

Eames Construction Toy — MoMA Design Store

Scape Trays — Areaware

Stacking Planter Chrome — Areaware

Strata Plant Vessel — Areaware

Recess by Mush rugs — Mush Studios X Urban Outfitters

[kazosa]

Wildwood Prequel: Tempted

Summary: It's been years since Jensen has visited you in your tiny hometown and you wanted it to be a special visit. However, your boyfriend didn't make it feel very special.

Pairing: female reader x Jensen Ackles

Word count: 15k

Warnings: language and a cussy nickname, fighting, talk of shady dealings, mentions of past abuse

a/n: please remember, this is fiction and not intended to be disrespectful to any real-life people

It had been quite a while since Jensen had visited your tiny town and you wanted to make sure everything was perfect in your apartment before he arrived. He was getting to be a big-shot, in your eyes, and you wanted things to look nice for him, like you assumed he was accustomed.

“Who are you trying to impress? I thought this guy is just a friend?” your boyfriend of several years asked.

“He doesn’t come here very often. I want to give him a nice welcome.”

“Or you could just keep it nice like this all of the time.”

“Or you could not trash my place every time you come over. You know, clean up after yourself, like adults do,” you frisbee threw a game case of his at him.

“Doesn’t your ‘boyfriend’ play video games?” he almost sneered.

“That has nothing to do with anything, Grant. I don’t mind your playing video games. I mind that when you’re here that’s all you do,” you countered.

Grant went to where you kept his games in the tv stand and pulled out a few more, then went back to the door to put on his shoes, saying nothing the whole time.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“I am going to play my video games somewhere else.”

“You’re not going to stay to meet Jay?”

“Nah, I’d just mess it up, right?”

Grant reached for the door but it was already opening. Jensen stood on the other side, looking his typical handsome self so effortlessly. Gray shorts, black band t-shirt, backwards hat, tennis shoes and a ridiculously small suitcase.

“Hey, how ya doin’?” he stuck out his hand, “Jay.”

Grant just looked him up and down before walking away without another word.

“Charming,” he said to you. “Who was that guy?”

“My boyfriend,” you moved so he could step inside. He smelled of your favorite cologne of his.

“Seems like a real winner,” he closed the door.

“Don’t start,” you warned.

“Y|N, I’m not even here 5 minutes and I already don’t like the guy. Why was he talking to you like that?”

“Eavesdropping, really?”

“When I hear a shitty tone…”

You sighed heavily. “I guess he didn’t like me calling him out on how he’s messy when he’s here.”

“So he takes advantage of you?”

“Can we not talk about Grant, please?”

He patted his chest, “C’mere. I haven’t gotten my hug yet.”

You gladly took the hug from Jensen. He wrapped you in a cocoon of his affection and melted away your stress. As always, it had been too long since you’d seen him last and you felt like you had a lot of catching up to do, though you often wrote to one another.

He released you from his bone-crushing embrace and you felt a lot better.

“How was your trip? Did everything go okay? Did you drive from the airport?”

“It’s hard as hell to get here,” he said.

“It’s not a cakewalk to see you either,” you smiled.

“No shit. I’m still surprised you come to so many conventions. I need to come here more. The trip was like all the rest. And yeah, I drove here from the airport. Wait til you see the car.”

“Ooo! What’d you get?”

“I said, ‘wait.’ You need to show me around again. You’ve changed things since I was here last,” he said.

He only knew the obvious, but you were holding onto a secret to surprise him. You did the basic tour of the living, dining and kitchen since they were all one room. New windows and planter boxes with fake plants, because you have a brown thumb. Refinished wood floors throughout. Down the hall to the guest bath which had new fixtures and tile.

You opened the guest room door, “Your room sir.” You stepped into the room and bowed with a flourish.

You waited and watched as he tried to figure out why it was so bright in the room. He scanned the corners before finally looking up.

“Whoa, that’s cool. I’m surprised the landlord let you do that,” he said.

“Well, kinda been keeping a secret from you,” you showed him to your room where he could see two more skylights, “I own the building.”

He looked very confused. “And? What else? How did you save that much money? I know you negotiate the shit out of everything and even if you cut a smokin’ deal on this building…”

“Which I did.”

“...Buildings like this don’t go for under a hundred fifty grand,” he paused, waiting for your response. “Spillit, what’d you do?”

“I wrote a book and sent it to a bunch of publishers hoping someone would publish it and make some money and one publisher did and not only did people buy it, a whole shitload of people bout it and now I’m kinda well off but not filthy rich yet,” you gasped after saying all of that in one breath. “Oh my god, it feels so good to finally tell you that. I’ve been holding onto that since the last time I saw you, but I didn’t want to say anything unless it fell through or the book was a flop, but it wasn’t.”

The gears in Jensen’s head were spinning at max RPM.

“What book?” You took his arm and pulled him around the corner inside your bedroom to where you had your desk set up…and a big goddamned poster hung on the wall.

“That’s my first ever cover art. It hung outside a Barnes & Noble in New York City for two months.”

Jensen studied the enormous poster, “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I’ll be damned.”

“What? Why?!”

“Don’t panic. No shame in the game sweetheart,” he said.

“You sounded like Dean just then.”

“Funny you should say that,” he turned to face you and pointed sideways at the poster. “There were people, that means guys too, who were reading that book on set for a couple months, at least. If I had known it was you, I would have read it, too. Not to mention, I would have had serious cool points.”

“No. God. I’m glad you didn’t read it.”

“Why?”

“It’s basically FULL smut and I would never be able to look anyone in the eye again if I knew they read it,” you felt very hot all of a sudden.

“Oh, you dirty, dirty girl,” he crooned. “Now I really want to know all the shameful things you wrote about.” He spotted a copy on the shelf and reached for it.

“Don’t you dare! I will die right here and you’ll have to resuscitate me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he teased.

“I had onions with lunch.”

“Sinner.”

“Promise me you will never read anything I write with a romance cover.” He just looked at you. “I mean it, promise me,” you poked his chest.

“Ow! Meanie,” he rubbed his chest.

“I need you to say the words, Jay.”

“I promise,” he said.

You poked his chest again.

“Ah-ha-howww! Okay, bony fingers,” he took a step back, “I promise I won’t read any of your filthy smut, money-making books.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“I’ll just buy the audio book,” he teased, narrowly dodging another bony-finger jab. “Who was your inspiration? Anyone I know?”

“I can’t with you. I’ll be in the living room when you get control of yourself,” you said.

“Sounds like something dom would say.”

“What?”

“What?” Y|N turned back around to walk out and he snickered. “Seriously though, is that supposed to be me?”

“Gerard Butler!” she said and flipped him off.

“Ach, a fine Scottish lad,” he said to himself as he looked around her desk and room. A stack of notebooks. Cup full of pens. Pictures of random things pinned to a cork board. On another wall she had her ridiculous number of convention photos with him and his friends. She had him do funny stuff, but Jared…he might have to have a talk with him.

The picture that really made him sit down and take notice was the one she had on her bedside table. It was a picture of the two of them when they were kids. He’d come up with his family to visit and they’d gone to a little resort town not far from where Y|N lived and rented a cabin for a week. He’d had the best time. They went out in the lake a lot, either swimming or on jet skis. They rode on a paddle boat, went to a little amusement park, rode bikes all over. Mackenzie and Josh were old enough to not need him or Y|N to look after them and Y|N’s brother was older than both of them, so they could do almost anything they wanted.

The picture was of them on the deck that overlooked the lake, sitting on the deck swing together. By the look of the picture, it was nighttime and Y|N was leaning on him to get in close for the picture. They both looked a little sunburnt and a lot happy.

“I always loved that picture. Great summer vacation,” she said from a few steps inside the doorway.

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “And you keep it next to the bed where your boyfriend can see it?” She nodded with a shrug. “You savage.”

“I barely know him in comparison to you,” she said, flopping down on the bed, staring up through the skylight.

Jensen laid down, too, so he could look, with her.

“Fuckface doesn’t know about the book and your money, right?” he asked.

She snorted, “No. I told him I really liked it and bought the poster. Told him the books were an oops. He doesn’t even know I own this building. He just knows I can afford things, so he doesn’t ask questions.”

You both laid there for a minute, watching the clouds float by.

“I bet it looks cool at night,” he said.

“You’ll get to see it from your room just fine,” you didn’t move.

“Don’t marry that guy, Nova,” he said softly.

“Hadn’t planned on it,” you realized.

“He’s not mister right.”

“He’s Mr. Right Now.”

He twisted his head and neck to meet your gaze. “Someday, I’ll settle down with someone, but not him. He has weird feet,” you said. “I don’t want any potential children to get his weird feet.”

He laughed, “I’m glad you have standards.”

“How’s Dee?” you didn’t want to ask.

“Hmm,” he should have seen that coming, “She’s good.”

Please don’t fall for her and marry her, you thought.

“Are you guys getting serious?” you asked.

He thought for a moment, unsure of what to tell Y|N. 

“Yeah, it kind of is… it is. We worked on a movie… I got to know her really well. I really like her, Nova, can you just try to like her, too?”

“For you, I will try.”

After bullshitting and catching up, you were getting hungry and went into the kitchen to get dinner going. The last time you got groceries, there was only one thing you specifically wanted to make for Jensen and had bought the needed ingredients. You pulled out a bowl, cutting board, colander, pot and two knives. Jensen came out of the bathroom and found you making all of the noise in the kitchen.

“Ey, what’re we doin’?” he asked, coming around the corner.

“Making you a home-cooked meal,” you said. Jensen went to one of the stools at the island. “Don’t sit there, you’re helping.”

“Just checking the stability of the stool,” he wiggled it a little. “You should fix that. What do you need me to do?”

“Anyone ever buy your bullshit?”

“All the time.”

“I bet,” you rolled your eyes.

“The trick is, you gotta believe your own bullshit. Really sell it,” he made a fist and slowly pumped it.

“Get out the tomatoes, green onions and garlic,” you told him, shaking your head.

He did as he was told and laid them out on the island.

“Grab the salt, pepper, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and parsley.

You were rinsing off the onions one by one because they always had a little dirt still on them and you were pulling off any wilted pieces. You had the whole process down to a science but you absolutely hated cutting the tomatoes. “You start cleaning the tomatoes.” You put the pot on the stove and used the pot filler to get it to the level you needed and threw some salt in the water. Once the water was heating, you went back to Jensen and the vegetables.

“Start seeding and dicing the tomatoes,” you said.

Jensen just looked at you.

“Seriously? How did Donna let you get away with not helping in the kitchen?” you wanted to know.

“I’m a guest!”

“Guests don’t have a key to my apartment, Jay. If you don’t help, I’m not making this for you again.”

“Pretty confident,” he picked up a knife and tomato.

“Damn right. I guarantee you’ll want me to make this again.”

He shook his head. “Whatever. Do you have any meat to go with this?”

“I don’t eat red meat,” you said.

“You eat hamburgers and meat sauce…”

“Yes, and that is browned. I can’t do it if it’s pink or red.”

It was his turn to look at you in shock. “All the times we’ve eaten together… I never noticed. I don’t know what to think about this.”

“You act like I’m a criminal,” you chopped the onions.

“I’m not sure I even know you.”

“Oh shut up, get on those tomatoes,” you laughed. “I figured we could go to the butcher tomorrow. George doesn’t work in the afternoons.”

“Gotta love small towns,” he was making quick work of the tomatoes. “How do you know the butcher by name if you don’t eat red meat?”

You grinned, “It’s a small town and I’ve lived here all my life. And George is a butcher, that means all meat. Besides, I gotta get my ground beef somewhere.”

For a few moments, you were both quiet while you made dinner. Finally the water came to a boil and you could add the noodles. While you combined the ingredients into a separate bowl, you told Jensen to go to your stereo and put on some music. He chose one of your vinyl albums. The speakers hissed and crackled a moment before it went quiet, then the music began… with a familiar heartbeat. Huey Lewis & the News started with The Heart of Rock & Roll.

Jensen turned to face you, tapping his hand on his chest along with the heartbeat in the song. Ever the showman, Jensen was about to perform for you while you stirred the noodles. He danced around your apartment, singing along the whole time. He flopped down on your couch just as the song ended, only slightly winded.

Finally finished, you drained and cooled the noodles, then put them in the fridge to cool longer. Heart and Soul was already playing.

“Still not ready?” he asked.

“Good lord… are you going to waste away waiting ten minutes longer?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Tough shit, whiner.” You started dancing to show how much you did not give a fuck. You waved your hands for him to get up and dance with you. One thing about being with Jensen was that neither of you ever got embarrassed around the other and you both could be as dorky as you wanted.

Bad is Bad began and the whole vibe changed. He took your hands and did slower movements with you to match the song tempo and danced in an early 60s dance style. You didn’t remember the song having such a sultry feel to it, but dancing with Jensen, and to that song, had you feeling a certain kind of way.

The song wound down and he pulled you close. Your heart was racing and you thought he might kiss you.

“Well! Looks like I got home in time for dinner and a show!” Grant said from the door. “What in the hell is going on here?”

Jensen let go of you and put himself between you and Grant.

“Nothing, man. Just dancing with my friend,” Jensen explained.

“Is that what it was? Because it looked like a scene from Dirty Dancing in here,” Grant’s voice was filled with accusation.

“Have you ever danced with her?” Jensen briefly waited, already knowing the answer. “You should, she’s got good moves.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grant shoved the taller Jensen.

“She’s a good dancer. I don’t want to have to put you down, pal,” Jensen raised his hands, showing he didn’t want to fight.

“Damnit, Grant, back off!” you told him. “You’re making something out of nothing.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I am,” Grant said, voice dripping with poison. “And to think I was going to apologize for before. How long have you been after Y|N? Have you been fucking her on all of her ‘business trips’? Is that what you did while I was gone today?”

“Grant!”

“You got a lot of nerve, pal,” Jensen tried to keep calm.

“Yeah. I walk into my own apartment and see some guy putting the moves on my girlfriend, but I’ve got a lot of nerve?”

“Dude, she’s not your girlfriend. She’s more like your mom cleaning up after you and allowing you to be in her presence. How much have you mooched off of her? Do you contribute anything to the relationship? You worthless piece of shit.” Jensen was ready.

You moved to the other side of the island as Jensen got the response he was hoping for when Grant threw the first punch. Jensen easily dodged the attempted blow and deflected Grant’s momentum. What Jensen hadn’t anticipated was how scrappy Grant was and he came back at Jensen full force with a tackle, tumbling them both to the floor with a loud thud.

The sounds of fists meeting flesh reached your ears from your side of the island and two of the bar stools toppled in the fray. You turned on the water to cold and aimed the sink sprayer at the floor and opened fire, dousing them both with the icy water.

“That’s enough!” you shouted, banging on the empty pot with your plastic Pampered Chef spoon. Jensen hopped up quickly but Grant couldn’t help getting in one more cheap shot and sucker punched him in the gut.

“I should press charges!” Grant shouted.

“No you fucking won’t,” you snarled. “Give me your key.”

“What? Why?” Grant was utterly clueless.

“You are no longer welcome in my house.” you said as calmly as you could muster.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“Give her the key, fuckface,” Jensen said in a tone that warned not to make him ask again.

“Hand it over, or I can have the cops take it from you,” you said.

“We’re done,” Grant said and put the key on the island.

You rolled your eyes. “I thought I already made that clear. Your face had better not darken my doorway again. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t look in my general direction. You’re dead to me as soon as you walk out the door.”

“Yeah, okay, you talk a big game. You fuck with me, I’ll fuck with you back,” Grant threatened and wiped at the blood on his face.

“Maybe I do talk a big game, but… am I? You have no idea if the rumors about my family are true, do you?” you asked. Seeing the appropriate reaction on his face, you opened the door. “Don’t threaten me. Just get the fuck out.”

Behind you, you could feel Jensen wound tight as a spring waiting for Grant to try something else. You stood out on the landing watching to make sure Grant left the building. When you heard the door latch click into place, you went back inside your apartment.

Jensen had set both of the stools back on their feet and was at the record player when you went back inside. You were just in time to see him flip the vinyl in his hands and carefully place the needle. He surprised you with his choice since it wasn’t the flipside of Huey Lewis.

“Bob Seger, nice choice,” you said, flipping the deadbolt and security latch on the door.

“Let me look at you,” you said, noticing Grant might have landed a blow after all.

You had him sit on one of the barstools where you proceeded to manhandle his face under the pendant light at the island.

“Is it bad?” he asked, hissing when you hit a tender spot.

“No, not really. Looks like a scuff, but we should clean it up so you don’t get cooties from him,” you said.

“Are you going to come at me with a wire brush, or will you be gentle?” he asked.

“Whichever one you want me to do, …opposite.”

He sighed loudly, “Bring the pain, I guess.”

“My brave boy,” you patted his shoulder. “C’mon, I don’t want to haul out the first aid kit out here. And don’t you dare try to make a break for it.”

He followed you to the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet lid. You pulled out the kit from the medicine cabinet and set it on the small counter next to the sink. You pulled out the items you needed and got out a washcloth. Once it was wet you put a lot of liquid soap on the washcloth and held it to Jensen’s cheek.

“What rumors?” he asked.

It took a moment to remember what you’d said earlier to Grant. “Oh, well, my grandpa had a large family and ran a construction business with some of my uncles. So heavy equipment for grading, welding and cutting torches, et cetera. Some not nice guys got into a bad situation and, allegedly, my uncles made the situation go away.”

Jensen looked up at you with eyes wide, “Allegedly?”

“Nothing was proven. Not even enough to arrest anyone.”

His eyes darted around the small room, processing. “Was Sir part of it?”

You snort laughed, “Jensen, you can stop calling my dad ‘Sir’ I think you’ve gotten past that part.”

You took the washcloth from him and rinsed the wound, gently wiping away Grant cooties.

“Answer the question.”

Trying not to actually laugh in his face, you answered, “No, my dad was not part of it. In his family, he’s one of the 3 youngest kids and was about 12 when that ‘situation’ happened. It was an allegation directed at my older uncles.”

“Sure am finding out a lot about you tonight,” he mused. “How come you never told me this before?”

“It’s not something one really goes around talking about, ya know? Sometimes secrets need to stay secrets. And it’s not about me, it’s about my uncles. It’s handy to have that particular card in your back pocket in case an asshole starts throwing punches at my friends.”

He seemed to accept this answer.

“Do you tell your friends about me?” you asked him.

He shook his head slightly, “No, not really. They know about you. They know I’m here visiting you and know you’re important to me, but that’s about it. I only ever tell them about ‘Nova’. They didn’t even put it together about your book. Hell, I didn’t even connect it.” He thought a moment, “I kind of want to keep you protected. Do you tell your friends about me?”

“I’d like to, but… I don’t know… I kinda like to keep you to myself. You’re like the ultimate hidden gem. Even if I did, they wouldn’t believe me. I’ve gone to three conventions now and they just think I’m obsessed with the show. Told ‘em I wanted to see my friend Jensen and they’re just like ‘mhm, okay’ and roll their eyes.” The wound was looking better, it wasn’t deep at all. “This is going to sting.” You didn’t give him a chance to react before you put your hand over his eye and sprayed a couple shots of rubbing alcohol on the wound.

“Mmmmmmotherfucker!” he growled.

“I’m sorry, honey,” you said, and without thinking you leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Awkward silence followed as you cleaned up the first aid kit and rinsed out the washcloth.

“Why do you even have the kit?” he asked.

“Believe it or not, I’m a klutz, or so I’ve been told. …and sometimes Grant needed it.” you explained.

“That’s not comforting.”

You didn’t say anything further about Grant. “The noodles are probably perfect now.”

Being so close to Jensen tended to overwhelm the senses. Even after knowing him so long, you still hadn’t become desensitized. You got out the pasta and ingredients bowl from the fridge. You needed to get yourself together. You only just kicked out Grant, and Jensen was still very much involved with Dee. You didn’t want to do anything stupid that would be the cause of any unhappiness in Jensen’s life, or yours. You dished up the noodles and Jensen joined you from the bathroom. You pushed the pasta bowl at him.

You got your bowl ready then went to the stereo to load up the CD player tray with music you knew you would both like. Your usual favorites were hand and it only took a moment to be happy with your selections. You put the Bob Seger album away then told the CD player to shuffle before returning to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink of your favorite soda.

When Jensen was ready, you had him follow you to your room and the fire escape then led him up to the roof where you had a deck built with a pergola, sun shades, lighting, speakers and a fan. It was your little oasis and it was a great place to watch any weather come in, too. So far, it was breezy, but not windy. By the look of the clouds, you thought it might rain after dark.

“This is great,” Jensen said.

“Yeah, you can see everything up here.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Tonight, we’re chillin’ like villains,” you turned on the power to the pergola.

“Dude.”

“I know,” you grinned. You turned on the fan and the speakers which played the music from your CD player. Tomorrow we’ll go to the butcher. We’ll need to stop by The Liquor Store and Sportsman’s to visit my grandma. At some point, we’re having dinner with my parents. Friday is the first full day of the fair, so we can go to the park and check out all of the stuff there. They’ll have a lot of vendors selling all kinds of stuff, there’s a car show, games. Saturday has the parade, more stuff at the park, lots of animals, fair food, crowning of the county princess. The fair itself has at least 3 big rides and one of those potato sack ride things, huuuuuge Ferris Wheel… I’m sure there’s more, but I can’t think of it all right now. You’ll be begging to go back to work to get a break from it all.”

“Gotta love small towns,” he said again, then took a bite of the pasta.

You watched for his reaction.

He looked over at you. 

“Go on, say it. I know you want to,” you smirked, taking a bite.

“Alright,” he took another bite, “This is really good.”

“And?”

He rolled his eyes. “I want the recipe,” he grumbled.

“Thank you.”

The music from the CD player came through the speakers you’d had wired and was a nice background sound for you and Jensen to chat. Though it was after 7 PM, it was still hot as hell and not cooling off at all. You hoped the cold front would come through sooner than later. You bumped up the fan speed and tried to ignore the trickle of sweat running down your back.

It didn’t take long for either of you to finish what you’d put in your dishes. 

“How do you not eat everything you made in one sitting?” he rested a hand on his happy belly.

You laughed, “Sometimes I do. Usually I just make enough for me, though. Wanna go for a drive, or are you too beat? We can get ice cream.”

“You had me at ‘go for a drive’.” he said getting up from the adirondack chair your dad had made. He turned to help you up from yours. 

“Nice chairs,” he noted.

“Thanks, my dad made them for me.”

“No shit? Nice work.” 

You both started walking back toward the fire escape.

“And how is Sir doing?” he asked.

Ever since Jensen first met your dad, he’d had an abundance of terrified respect for him and always referred to him as “Sir.” It may have been due to the fact that your dad was even taller than Jensen and intimidating as hell. 

“Are you ever going to use his actual name?”

“Maybe when he doesn’t scare the shit out of me,” he said, reaching the stairs. “Is this his handiwork, too?” he indicated the metal fire escape.

You nodded. “He didn’t make it, but it’s his design,” you answered. “The last set was pretty old and rusting away.”

“You and your family have quite the skill sets,” he mused.

You didn’t know if he was referring to your uncles’ side-business, or your immediate family. “What do you mean?” you followed him inside the window and to the kitchen.

“Your mom does interior design, crafts all kinds of stuff, and has made some amazing flower arrangements. Your brother is an artist, publishes a comic, and does some crazy hand-lettering. Your dad is a self-taught engineer, woodworker, hella smart, hella scary…” 

“...not sure that’s a skill…”

“And you… you seem to have all of those skills and you write novels, best-selling novels…”

…it’s only one…”

“But I know you. I saw your board. You’re writing another.”

“True, I am… why are you telling me this? You and your family are pretty awesome, too. You can memorize scripts so easily and can do pretty much anything you want… Are we just saying we’re impressed with each other?”

“And you’re athletic,” he nodded.

“You’re athletic. Just because I can do things that resemble sports doesn’t mean I like to sweat. You do that shit for fun, not this girl.”

Jensen snickered then started humming Sweat by Inner Circle before eventually softly singing the lyrics. You went to close the window in your bedroom so fuckface wouldn’t try to get in that way, assuming he could get past your dad’s security method he built into the ladder design. You knew the lyrics to Sweat quite well and you didn’t know what to think of Jensen, who was in a “pretty serious” relationship, humming that for you. You had just broken up with Grant.

“Get it together, Y|N,” you told yourself. “He’s not a rebound guy and he’s not hitting on you.”

Once you cleared your head, you met Jensen by the door, which he held open for you, allowing you to pass by him. The two of you went down the stairs and to the back of the building to where Jensen had parked his rental car. It was going to take you forever to get that damn song out of your head…and the meaning…but you made a mental note to use it in your novel.

Outside, you were greeted by a sleek, black Range Rover.

“Holy shit,” you said, gaping at the car. “This was at the airport?!”

“Yeah, I was shocked, too. Hop in,” he hit the unlock button and opened the door for you.

You were quite impressed with the vehicle. Nice interior, quiet ride and very posh. You told Jensen how to get to the place that sold the ice cream and he pointed the car in that direction. You both got the establishment’s version of a Blizzard. Jensen got Reece’s Pieces, and you got your favorite flavor. Ice cream in hand, you had Jensen cruise the main streets, of which, there were three.

Jensen felt the need to walk off the ice cream, so after driving through the park, he stopped at the parking lot outside of the park and near the walking trail.

“I see why you like it here so much,” he said, walking by the river with you. “It’s just…nice.”

“Yeah, it’s really small, but everything I need is within driving distance. Then I can come back here where it’s nice and quiet.”

“Ever think I could tempt you away?”

That’s a loaded question, you thought. “Depends. I’d need a good reason to leave all this,” you waved your hand around. You could hear the irony in your own voice. “Not opposed to it. What’d you have in mind?”

He shrugged. “Just wish you were closer to Texas or LA or Vancouver.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be nice, but I’m good here,” you said. And I don’t want to be tempted by being too close to you.

“Maybe someday,” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. On the surface, your friend asked if you would ever move to Texas, or wherever, to be closer to him. Jensen could ask questions with such subtle nuance that he made you wonder if things were as “good” as he made them seem, with Dee, as he let on. You had other guy friends and none of them talked to you the way Jensen did. The two of you would dance around the line in your relationship, but you were never quite sure where the line was. You supposed the line may be in a different spot for each of you. No matter where the lines laid for either of you, you knew you would not cross it, and if that meant telling Jensen ‘no’, then you would tell him so. He was involved with someone and you were not willing to put either of you in a situation that could get you embarrassed or hurt.

“We should probably head back now. It’s going to be dark soon and the park closes at ten,” you said, stopping.

Jensen reached to take your hand, but you wouldn’t let him take it.

“Jay, people might not know who you are here, but I don’t want to take any chances. There will always be people looking for smoke where there’s no fire.” And I need to protect my heart.

You wondered how it was that you felt like you had a more intimate relationship with Jensen than you had with Grant, and Grant had spent a lot more time with you. You’d only ever kissed Jensen that one time and it was over 9 years ago. ‘Cause he’s my sweet boy, one side of you answered. You’ve got to stop that, he’s with Dee, argued the other side. And the internal argument with yourself continued on like that until you got back to the car, where he went to your side and opened the door for you.

“I’m sorry, I made you uncomfortable,” he stood in your door while you got situated in your seat. 

“I just broke up with fuckface…” you began.

“...rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

“Kinda. Shut up. You’re with Dee and you’re serious, right? So if you’re serious, and exclusive with her, then you shouldn’t be trying to flirt with me.”

“Well…what about you? You can’t be doing that to me, either.” “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” Yet, during the whole walk, you could feel him checking you out and you didn’t hate it. You’d been doing the same thing to him all night. His unmistakable gait was hard not to notice. Nor were his cute little buttocks in his gray shorts, or how his t-shirt was just a tiny bit too small. Gently, he gently closed your door then went to his side and got in.

“Alright, if either of us is with someone, the other is off limits. Agreed?” he asked.

You nodded, “Agreed.”

“Why does it feel like we’re breaking up?” you asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m still going to write to you, okay? We can still be friends, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out like he’d been holding his breath.

Thankfully, your apartment wasn’t very far away and you were both back inside just a few minutes later.

“Do you think you can still stay ‘til Sunday?” you asked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he answered. “Want to watch a movie? I’m still on Vancouver time.”

“I actually need to go do some work, but if you need anything I’ll keep my door open,” you stood by the hallway gauging his reaction. “I need to get stuff done before the storm.”

“Smell it on the air?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought I did, too. Okay.” he said and you thought maybe he was trying not to look at you and play it cool. You weren’t about to contradict him. 

He watched her walk down the hall and disappear around the corner to her writing desk. Something dramatic had to happen as soon as he walked in the door earlier that day. That guy she’d called a boyfriend was something else. He didn’t like anything about him. Short. Dark hair and eyes. Beer belly. Didn’t seem too bright. Took advantage of Y|N. 

He hit ‘play’ on a random movie from her collection. Her vinyl selection was top-notch and had been slightly impressed she even had any. She hadn’t mentioned it in her letters at all and they told each other almost everything. Kind of amazing that she had any secrets left.

Then again, she wrote a whole book and he’d had no clue. It had been pretty popular and there had been talk about making it into a movie. How had he never asked her if she ever thought about publishing? He knew she was always writing in her spare time. Had he asked her? She dabbled in fan-fiction, he knew, but no clue about the novel. Then he remembered that she said not to read any with the romance covers. Did that mean she was published in other genres and different pen-names? He wondered if she would, or had, used any of their adventures together in her books. Did she know how bad he wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and make it be their time? He almost had when they were dancing. She looked hot as hell in her green shorts and fitted, black, Rolling Stones shirt. She wasn’t dressed up, or did anything special, she just looked good like she always did. He wished he had kissed her… but Dee… what about Dee? While he was with Y|N he would have a good time. When he went back to Texas, he would see how things went with Dee. She deserved at least that from him.

He ended up not even really watching the movie and was still sitting there after the credits had run. It was the flash of lightning from outside that had snapped him out of the trance he’d been in. He cleaned up after himself, checked that the apartment door was locked and turned off the lights.

Not looking into Y|N’s room, he went into his room to change his clothes and grab his toiletry bag for the bathroom. Once his clothes were changed, teeth were brushed, and skincare routine were completed, he flung the toiletry bag at his open suitcase and flopped onto his bed.

“Holy shit, this is nice,” he whispered. He’d slept in a lot of hotel beds, but this was better by far. It hit his goldilocks zone perfectly. His mind was racing too fast to sleep though.

He got back out of bed and paced around her house. Eventually, he started to feel tired and stopped at her still open door, her light long-since turned out. He could see her lying in bed and fought the urge to go in and lie down with her. …it would be so easy. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of hurting Dee like that. With one last look, he went back to bed and watched the rain fall on the skylight as he drifted off to sleep.

Morning came with a quickness and the sun streamed in through the skylight. He laid there with his arm over his eyes, not quite ready to get up yet. If it weren’t for the smell of bacon and eggs wafting in, he might have laid there all day. Not wanting to miss out on a home-cooked meal, he drug himself out of bed and to the kitchen.

Y|N was standing on her counter with cupboard doors open. She looked cute with her bedhead. It didn’t hurt that he had a good view of her legs at all. Briefly he wondered what it would be like to have her legs wrapped around …

“Oh good, you’re up. I can’t find where I put the coffee maker,” she said.

“No big deal,” he said looking at her still standing on the counter hunched over. He looked away when he realized he was staring, “Isn’t there a bakery close by?”

“Yeah, but I can’t go there looking like this,” she said. “I’m a mess.”

“No, you’re not, you’re fine,” he assured her. She really had no idea how attractive she was. Fuck anyone who didn’t also think so. “I don’t need coffee that bad.”

She hopped down from the counter, “Okay, sorry. I’m sure I’ll find it as soon as you go back to work.”

“Oh no, we’re finding it before then, just not now,” he was eyeing the bacon and eggs. “I didn’t know you can cook.”

“I guess I’m full of surprises this weekend,” she said. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“You’d think after this long and about a million letters and phone calls that there wouldn’t be much left to learn.”

“Oh honey, you’ve barely scratched the surface,” she grinned and left the kitchen. He stuck his head around the corner in time to catch sight of her butt in the small shorts she was wearing. He then dished up his breakfast and wondered what else was below the surface that he didn’t know.

When you both finished breakfast and got cleaned up, Jensen finally found the coffee maker and felt a little more human. Then they walked a few blocks over to the butcher shop where Jensen purchased some New York strips that he liked the look of.

“Is it always like this?” he asked.

“Like what? You’re the meat eater, you tell me,” you said using the key to open the building door.

“Not the meat, the weirdly pleasant part,” he answered.

You hadn’t noticed anything unusual in your interactions that morning. “Yeah, I guess so? Aren’t people usually nice to you? I’d think they’d be fawning over you.”

He snorted, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, everyone knowing who you are. The sneaking pictures. Sometimes people are dicks just to get a rise out of you. It’s exhausting always being ‘on’ in public.”

You stopped at your apartment door to look back at him. Anytime you need to hang out, just let me know. Hell, you have a key, just show up. Or maybe you need a place to go that’s all your own… like build a place on that land you bought forever ago.”

You opened the door and Jensen followed you in flipping over the security latch when the door closed.

“What?” he saw you looking at him. He pointed at the latch, “That? Can’t be too careful.” He put his steaks in the refrigerator. 

“I just appreciate you looking out for me,” you said.

“That’s what friends do,” he said, resting his hands on the island.

“Do friends challenge you to Mario Kart?” you asked.

“Yeah, but we might not be friends afterward,” he was already moving toward the TV.

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

“‘Cause I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Mhm. Okay. We shall see.”

“Are you mad?” you smirked, walking down the stairs again with him.

He shook his head, “Nope.”

“‘Cause it seems like you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad. I should know better. Were you practicing?”

You laughed, “No, I hardly play it.”

“You have home-console advantage.”

“Wow. Okay. Are you gonna tell me that neither you nor Jared have a Wii in one or both of your trailers?”

He ignored the question. “I want a rematch.”

“So I can beat you again?” you teased.

“That was a fluke.” “Jensen, you’re a sore loser,” you laughed. “C’mon,” you were walking with him to the Liquor Store and were just outside the door, “Let’s see if Gram is working.”

Inside the store there was a small checkout counter to the right with a swinging half door to the back part of the store. The entirety of the store included two very long rows of shelves that were fully stocked with all of the liquors you could ever want and lots of beer cases.

You had no idea what the building had been originally, but you thought maybe you’d heard it had been a law office and that, honestly, felt right. The floors were carpeted. The walls were lined with wood paneling. It had a drop ceiling that trapped the smell of every cigarette smoked inside its walls. Back behind the counter was the “office” which was just a desk with a video feed from the bar next door.

You started looking for your beverage of choice, while Jensen found his. When you were both happy with your choices, you took them to the register, but whoever was working, you assumed it was your grandmother, hadn’t appeared yet. You hit the bell on the counter and called out, “Loretta!”

“I’m coming!’ you heard her call from somewhere in the bowels of the building. When your grandma saw you at the counter, she said, “Oh, Y|N it’s you. Who is this with you?”

Her eyes were almost sparkling as she looked at Jensen. You gave him a quick knowing glance.

“Grandma, this is my very good friend, Jay Wayne. Jay, this is my gram, Loretta,” you introduced them.

“Very nice to meet you, Jay,” she practically cooed. “Did you two find what you wanted?”

“Yeah, these two things please,” you said. “Are you cooking today, too?”

“Yes, I am. Are you two kids going to have lunch here?” You nodded. “Come through here then. Don’t go back out in the heat. I’ll just add the drinks to your food bill. Do you know what you want so I can get fixing it?”

Your grandma pushed open the half-door that kept the customers out of the back open and led you and Jensen through the building to the door that opened into the bar that was attached to the Liquor Store. 

“I think Jay needs to look at a menu, but…” you began.

“What do you recommend, Loretta?” he charmed her.

“Well, I make the chicken, coleslaw and potato salad here, so any of those I can guarantee they’ll be good,” your grandma answered.

“I’ll take some of all, if you don’t mind,” he grinned at her.

“Me, too, just no coleslaw,” you said, unsure if you existed at the moment.

Once she had the order, your grandma got to getting things ready and left you and Jensen to find a seat inside the bar. It was like any other bar you’d ever been in. It had a very long bar, a small stage, plenty of tables and booths. There was neon everywhere and racing memorabilia on all of the walls. Even the floor was in large black and white checkered tiles. You and Jensen found a booth and sat on opposite sides of the table.

“That was disturbing,” you said, pulling out a menu, though you’d looked at it hundreds of times.

“What?” Jensen was also looking at the same simple menu.

“Never once has she let me go through the store.” Jensen barely looked up before going back to the menu.

“So?” he said.

“I am her grandchild and she has never given me special treatment, but as soon as I have a hottie with me, she’s all sweet.”

“Are you jealous of your grandmother?”

“God no. What? No. Just letting you know about my family.”

“She know about your career?” You shook your head. “Why not?”

“‘Cause I don’t want any of them knowing. I don’t want anything to change because they know my secret. If they treat me like this without knowing… It just keeps me humble and I can still see their true colors, ya know?”

“I get that.”

“The thing is, you could be a total, abusive asshole to me, but if she thinks you’re cute, I must have done something to deserve it.”

Jensen put down the menu. “Who did it? Was it fuckface? Say the word and I can finish what he started.”

“It wasn’t Grant,” you said.

“Jim? Braeden? Steve? Doug? Who am I missing here? Andy?” You touched your nose. “Andy?! …that son of a bitch!”

“Jay!” you put your hand over his. “Do you see him here? Have I mentioned him in all of these years?” He was still livid. “It’s taken care of.”

“Like taken care of taken care of?” his voice was still raised.

You gave him a ‘stop it’ look but said, “I don’t know details. I just know my dad and brother were pissed that he’d been harassing me… and stalking me… and the other stuff. I just know Dad and Jarrod went looking for him and Andy never bothered me again.”

Jensen just stared at you for a moment. He knew both your dad and brother which definitely made him wonder what happened to Andy, especially considering the rumors about her uncles.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asked.

You smiled, “Only a little. He’s still alive, but he hasn’t come within 100 yards of me since then. I can only speculate what they did to scare the shit out of him.”

“I’ve only met your brother a couple times, but your dad still scares the shit outta me, so I’m sure Jarrod is equally terrifying,” he mused.

“That’s fair,” you said. “I know of other situations where Jarrod handled things very simply, if not painfully.”

“Alright,” Jensen seemed satisfied that the situation was handled with Andy.

“Are you still that scared of my dad?” you asked.

“What? No! …a little,” he admitted. “I just feel like he can read my mind.”

“Why would that be scary, Jensen? Tell me.” you rested your chin on your folded hands.

“Hi guys, sorry it took so long. ‘Retta just put your orders up a few minutes ago.” the server saved Jensen. “Hey Y|N, how are ya?”

“Hi Chels, we’re not in a big hurry. No worries. This is Jay.”

“Nice to meet you,” she placed napkins and cups of ice water on your table. To Jensen, “You look familiar, have we met?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he answered, taking a drink of the water.

“Don’t be modest, Jay.” Jensen shot you a viscious look. “He does stand-in and stunt work for TV and movies.”

“That must be it,” she said, frazzled. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

She was gone before you could say anything else to her.

“She’s cute,” he said.

You nodded, “Went to school with her. She’s cool as shit.”

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“Not much. We can go to the park for the vendors and car show.” you said the next part quietly, “Have dinner with my parents.” Then you went back to normal volume, “Maybe go to the races, or get that rematch of Mario Kart out of the way.”

When you were both finished with your food, Chelsea brought the bill and your bottles from the Liquor Store. Making eye contact with Chelsea, you tipped your head toward Jensen and without missing a beat, she laid the bill on Jensen’s side of the table and gave you a discreet wink as she departed.

Jensen happily paid for both of you and mentioned that your grandma made good potato salad and that he’d also enjoyed the juicy fried chicken. He left Chelsea a good tip, grabbed your liquor purchases and walked you back home.

You never got bored with Jensen. Maybe it was because you packed too much into your visits, but even when you weren’t on a tight timeline, you still just always enjoyed his company. If you ever did get bored, and you didn’t think you did, it was just better, easier, less drab. It was nice having him around. It might have been because you’d known him so long, but you knew it was only part of it because you genuinely loved him.

“Mario Kart has to wait,” you said, reveling in the A/C.

Jensen snorted, “You just don’t want to get beat. I’ll find my groove.”

“I wasn’t scared before and I’m not scared now, Ackles,” you said, confidently. “I will destroy you some other time. We can’t play tonight because my parents are coming over for dinner tonight.”

It still tickled you, to no end, to see the flash of terror in Jensen’s eyes, though fleeting, at the mention of your father.

“What a treat,” he blurted out.

“Man, you are good,” you marveled. “I almost didn’t see you flinch that time.” Jensen pretended like he didn’t know what you meant. “He’s not that scary.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re his baby girl.”

“I guarantee, if you get his steak just right, you’re in.”

Before the big event, you and Jensen went to the park to do some vendor shopping and went to the car show that was being put on. You’d gotten to see some really cool antiques, muscle cars (no Impala), and some modern muscle. It was quite a popular event and not a single person recognized Jensen, that you were aware of. You’d spent much of the afternoon walking around the fair festivities and were back at your apartment just in time to start getting food ready for dinner, because your parents would be over in an hour to eat.

An hour later, at six on the dot, your parents arrived and you breathed a sigh of relief when your dad offered his hand to Jensen in greeting. Everything was cordial as usual. Jensen was just about to go to the roof to start grilling, but he’d waited for your parents to arrive before going up. Surprisingly, your dad followed Jensen out. 

Your mom sat on one of the island bar stools while you worked on the rest of the meal. She looked around your apartment.

She leaned forward and quietly asked, “Is Grant here?”

“No ma’am,” you answered, checking on the pasta.

She took a sip of her tea. “Oh, how come?”

You turned to look at her knowing full-well she already knew. “I told him to get the hell out and never darken my door again.”

“Oh, thank God. You know I never liked him.”

“I didn’t, actually, but it doesn’t matter.”

“When did this happen?” she was almost gleeful.

“Thursday. He was being a dick to Jay. They got into it right here,” you told her.

“So that’s why Jensen has that on his cheek?”

You nodded.

“And how was Grant?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “Jay landed more than a few.”

“Good,” your mom said and you started the alfredo sauce. “When are you and Jensen going to get together?”

“Mother!”

“What? He adores you, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way.”

It hurt being called out like that and it made your stomach tie up in knots. “I just broke up with Grant. Like him or not, we were together for four years. I’m gonna need a minute to put that away. Not to mention Jay has a girlfriend and they’re ‘pretty serious’, I guess, plus she’s in the business too and got close on a movie and I have my work and it’s just not something either of us wants right now. Can we talk about something else please?”

“Speaking of work… are you working on another book? Are you going to be traveling to Pennsylvania again? How was the the last shut down? I’m still not sure I like you doing that stuff, but at least you get to travel.”

“It’s not glamorous. I don’t get out much. Mostly I’m just working. The only thing that really changes is the location,” you stirred the alfredo. “I have ideas for a couple books. I’m actually almost done with the first draft for one still in research and plotting phase for the other.”

“Have a muse in mind?” your mother was being awfully cheeky.

You put the spoon down and looked her dead in the eye, “George Clooney.”

Jensen was trying to be cool. Sir had followed him up to the roof and was sitting in the chairs he’d built for (Y/N). He sat there with his legs crossed, smoking in the shade while Jensen fired up the grill. As if the summer sun weren’t already hot enough, he felt himself beginning to sweat under the scrutiny Sir was laying on him. There was no avoiding it, he went to sit while the grill came to temperature.

Sir didn’t say anything but he extended a very weathered, but still massive, hand over, holding out his cigarettes to him.

“No, thank you, sir. Gave it up a few years back.”

“Jensen, you can call me…” tucking the pack into his breast pocket.

“No, sir, I can’t. I have the utmost respect for you and your family. Not to mention my mother would have my hide.”

“How are your folks?”

They chatted in small talk for a while letting the grill get nice and hot. When an adequate amount of time passed, Jensen got up to check the thermometer.

“Do you know how to grill a good steak?” (Y/N)’s dad asked, looking over Jensen’s shoulder.

“I like to think I do. How do you take yours, medium rare?”

(Y/N) had tipped him. Her dad nodded. “My specialty.” He used another tip she’d given him, “How are your Vikings lining up for next season?”

“Oh, well…” he began and the two b.s.’d until the steaks and chicken were both ready. Chicken went on first for the ladies. 

“I still can’t get (Y/N) to try my steak. Says she doesn’t ‘do red meat’ but eats hamburgers and chicken for days though,” he shook his head.

“Her mother is the same way,” her dad chuckled.

Your parents stayed longer that night than they had in years. Dinner had gone well. Lots of talking going on and you felt a good time was had by all.

“You must have done a good job with the steak,” you said to Jensen, handing him one of the pots to rinse and dry.

“Gotta say, I feel like king shit right now.”

“I’m glad he didn’t throw you off the roof.”

“No shit. I legit had the same thought while I was up there with him.” He paused for a moment to dry another dish. “How bad did they hate fuckface?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know they did until tonight. My mom actually was giddy with relief.”

“I think you dodged a bullet.”

“Mmm. Probably.”

“You gonna work tonight?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ve gotta try to get as much out of my head as I can. It helps to keep me from spiraling.”

He turned his head to look at you. “Are you spiraling?”

“No, but I might.”

“Okay if I hang out in your room? Can you still work?”

You nodded. “It’s amazing what I can ignore. Your company is always welcome.”

Jensen was down for that. He cleaned up the kitchen with you. Then when that was done, you got all of your things together for your writing desk. Jensen looked at your writing supplies. 

“You need a gallon of water…” he said.

“It’s thirty-two ounces.”

“900 pens.”

“I have a current favorite.”

“And just as many notebooks.”

“Yes. I may not use all of them but I need them close. It’s a process. Some have notes, references, character descriptions…”

“When do you use the computer?”

“When I’m ready to do my first edit. It helps for continuity, adding bits, deleting others. Fixing grammar, stuff like that.”

“Seems like a lot of work.”

“It is, but it’s what works for me. Writing on paper is cathartic and I get a good flow going this way.”

“So what are you doing tonight?”

“I am going to be writing down new ideas, words for one, transcribing and editing for the other.”

“You have more than one book going?”

“Yep.”

“And you can keep track of them all?”

“That’s what all of the notebooks are for, color coding and corkboard.”

“Right… I’m gonna snoop around, cool? Okay, great.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, he just immediately went to your closet and opened the door and started looking around.

“I’m gonna get rid of all of fuckface’s shit.”

“Go for it,” you sat down at your desk to get started. “If you make a mess, you will clean it up.”

He raised a hand to acknowledge he heard you and got right to going through everything. Grant’s clothes were landing in a heap outside the closet door.

“Not much in here,” he was still rifling through the clothes bar and your dresser.

“Hey, stay out of the top drawer.”

“Too late. Not even any lacy bits.”

“Okay. Keep comments like that to yourself, thank you.”

“If you got it, flaunt it.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Yes, you do,” he reached for a box up on the shelf.

You sat in stunned silence for a moment then completely dropped it as him just being nice. He dug through the box and, not finding anything, put it back on the shelf.

“I’m gonna get a garbage bag for this shit,” he said and went to the kitchen like he hadn’t just said what he said.

You thought maybe you should help go through things but you didn’t even want to look at any reminders. When he came back, with garbage bag in tow, he grabbed the clothes, and shoved them, unceremoniously inside.

Jensen saw you watching. “He’s lucky I don’t pour bleach in here.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you raised your hands in surrender. “And I see nothing.”

He tapped his temple then pointed at you. “Understood.”

Over the next hour, while you worked, Jensen went through every place Grant would have put anything and collected the found items. Along the way, things “accidentally” crashed to the floor, but the pieces all made it into the bag for Grant’s later collection. Occasionally, you would hear “oops” after something fell.

“Hey,” he stuck his head around the corner. “I need you.”

You followed him out to the living room. “Which of these games are yours?”

You looked at the Xbox games and sorted through them. There were a few movies you added to the bag, also. It felt good to purge them. Eventually you got back to work and Jensen went back to snooping and found your photo album. He took it to your bed, got comfy and began looking through the pages.

Some of the pictures were ones he’d never seen before. They were a chronicle of her life from when she was a baby, all the way up to the last time he saw her, last year, at the upfronts in New York. Cute baby too, he thought. He liked looking through the photos. It made him feel closer to her somehow. He flipped slowly through the pages and saw people he didn’t recognize in the older pictures. He wanted to ask her about them but she was typing away on her computer, and didn’t want to ruin her flow.

When he got to the middle of the thick album, that was when he got to the years when they first got to know one another. There were pictures from that first meeting in Texas, the one where she walked right into him and stole his heart. As much as he enjoyed that first meeting, it was the ones where they stayed at a cabin for summer vacations. He’d always told himself that they were just friends. There was a closeness between them that he couldn’t describe.

When your eyes started to give up on you, and the beginnings of a headache, you decided to call it a night. For half a second, you’d forgotten about Jensen. He’d been so quiet and now you understood why. Jensen was lying on your bed with your old photo album next to him. Crawling onto your bed, you grabbed the album and slid it to the edge of the bed with you. It was still open to the page that had pictures of the two of you at the cabin.

“My sweet boy,” you thought.

You closed the album and set it aside. Turning back to Jensen you briefly debated whether or not to wake him, or to go sleep in the spare room. Looking at the clock, you decided that it wasn’t worth trying to sleep in his room. After all, it was a king bed and you were both adults. If either of you couldn’t behave, there were bigger issues to deal with.

You turned off the lights and changed out of your clothes and into your night shirt in the dark. Jensen laid on his back and appeared to be sleeping soundly above the covers. Despite it being hot as hell outside, even at night, it was almost chilly in your apartment with the A/C running. You thought to look for a blanket for him and used the moonlight to navigate your room and grabbed a blanket you had made, hoping it would be long enough.

You carried the blanket to where he laid and unfolded it before laying it over him. After covering his feet, you moved your way up his body making sure he was covered. He surprised you when he stirred and said, “You’re beautiful” and rolled onto his side. Stunned, it took you a moment to realize he must have been dreaming of Dee and went to your side of the bed to go to sleep.

He laid there knowing he shouldn’t look, but it wasn’t every day that a woman got undressed in front of him; let alone one he cared about so deeply. His eyes were only open a slit and there were no lights on, but the bright moonlight did him a favor and let him see just enough to be dangerous. He did everything he could to remain calm until the nightshirt slipped over her nearly naked body. She went to the closet and he breathed a sigh of relief until she bent over and could see the perfect shape of her backside. (Y/N) came back with a blanket and tucked him in. When she got close to his chest, he pretended to still be sleeping and rolled onto his side telling her she’s beautiful.

He was so torn about what to do. He cared for Dee, he really did. They got along great, he liked her a lot. She was a really great friend and they had a lot of fun together. He knew he would be happy with her… he even bought a ring. Nova, though… she was his absolute solace. He was never less than his best self when he was with her.

She needed time to get back to her normal self after being with Grant. She wasn’t happy. He could tell in her letters that Grant was not right for her. He was dragging her down, dampening her spirit. She deserved someone who would lift her up; someone who could be devoted to her. As much as he may have wanted that to be himself, he also knew that he couldn’t just drop everything, not even for (Y/N).

When morning came, Jensen was still lying in bed with you, sleeping peacefully. His long lashes lying softly on his cheeks. Normally, you stayed on your side of the bed, even when Grant was with you. When you woke up, you were lying more towards the middle and Jensen was mere inches away. It would be nothing to reach out and touch him. Instead you rolled away to the side of the bed and opted for a cold shower.

Turning on the water, you went through the motions to get your body clean and think about what your next steps should be. Only, you realized, you’d been going through the motions for the last few years. The only thing you’d care about was writing your stories and the escape they gave you, which brought you to wonder why you needed the escape. Then you thought about all of the smutty romance you wrote about and wondered if you were just protecting your wants and desires into your books. Jensen gave you crap about the inspiration for those books, and you thought you were telling the truth about it being Gerard Butler, but you weren’t even sure of that either. When it came down to it, all you were actually sure of was that you liked writing. Not just the scenes themselves, but the whole process. Grant never really understood your need to create. He hadn’t even asked you about it. All he ever talked about was himself. As long as he was happy, that was all he cared about…

“Hey, you curing cancer in there?”

Jensen called through the door, grabbing your attention. Had you even washed your hair?

“Just searching for world peace.”

“Well hurry up and find it, I got breakfast waiting.”

Thankfully, with it being Saturday, it meant your day would be very busy and you wouldn’t be so overwhelmed with difficult emotions. The first activity of the day was the parade. Jensen was okay with going down to street level and be amongst the people. Your apartment overlooked Main Street and was a great vantage point. Instead, the two of you went down and met up with friends of yours.

“Who’s your friend?” Kim asked.

You looked at Jensen in his ball cap and sunglasses. He stood to your right and slightly behind you. He looked back at you and shrugged, game to see what would happen.

“This is famous TV actor, Jensen Ackles,” you told her, then turned to Jensen. “Jay, this is Kim. We went to high school together.”

“Hey, how’s it going? Jay Wayne.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, Jay.” Kim gave you a look that said to quit playing around. “What do you do for work and how did you meet (Y/N)?”

“I’m actually a stunt-double on TV and stand in. Met (Y/N) at summer camp years ago.”

“Oh, how cool.”

She was about to start asking more questions, but you cut her off. “Oh, I think my parents finally arrived. Talk to you later, Kim. C’mon, Jay.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him away and walked towards the corner and across the street to the pharmacy.

“You weren’t kidding. Right from the start, she didn’t buy it.”

“Dude, I know. And it’s not like I’m a chronic liar.”

“I know, you’re actually really bad at it.”

“Thank you?” you said with a chuckle.

“It’s a good thing. I always know where I stand with you. And, it makes it really easy to tell when you do lie.”

You and Jensen walked all over downtown and the park to check out all of the special vendors and deals that only came around once a year. After grabbing lunch from the VFW, you were ready for a break and went back to your apartment and laid down for a couple hours. You didn’t know what Jensen was doing but he wasn’t in the room with you, which you felt was for the best.

The alarm you’d set woke you up and you got up to brush out your hair in your bathroom. Jensen had found the acoustic you’d bought for Fuckface Grant and was strumming a familiar song. Reaching for the door knob of your bedroom, you paused recognizing the song as he began to sing.

“Saying ‘I love you’ is not the words I want to hear from you. It’s not that I want you, not to say but if you only knew… how easy, it would be to show me how you feel. More than words is all you have to do to make it real, then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me ‘cause I’d already know.”

Of all the songs he could have played… The lyrics hit you hard and your hand dropped away from the handle as you listened to each word he sang. Did he even know what he was doing to you? How could he? He was playing and singing softly. You put your back against the door, not wanting to let him see you fall to pieces as you slid to the floor. You clasped your hands over your  mouth and tried not to cry out as the tears fell out of your eyes. 

He moved on to other songs that also tore at your heart but they hadn’t stung nearly as bad. Whatever it was that had pulled the plug on your emotional dam, whether it was the lyrics, or Jensen’s voice, you weren’t quite sure, but it had released the flood and it took you a while to let it all out and compose yourself. Dragging yourself off the floor, you went back to your bathroom to splash cold water on your face in hopes of maybe calming down enough to go out in the living room where he was still softly playing songs. Of course, there was no hope of him not noticing.

“What happened?” he asked, putting the guitar down and getting up as soon as he saw you were not okay.

“I’m okay. I just needed a good cry, I guess.”

“C’mon, bring it in,” he said stepping toward you with arms out stretched. 

You took a step back and held a hand up for him to stop. “No, I really don’t want to be touched right now.”

He looked at you in a way that made your heart hurt more.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just… I don’t know, just be gentle on me, okay? I’m feeling a little raw and just… raw.”

“Fair enough.”

“Just give me a few minutes then we can go down to the fair.”

“He doesn’t deserve you shedding a single tear over him, Nova.” He thought you were crying over Grant.

“I know, it’s just hard to let go.”

An hour later, you were sitting in the grandstands at their fairgrounds watching figure 8 races which led into the demolition derby. A few of your older cousins showed up and sat with you and Jensen. You introduced him as Jay, and as usual with your family, they grilled him and wanted to know everything about him. There was something in your dad’s family’s DNA that was determined to embarrass you at every turn. To his credit, Jensen took it like a champ and answered their questions without divulging too much of the truth.

After the races were done, you and Jensen left the grandstands and got some gumbo from one of the local vendors. You found a picnic table to sit at while you ate.

“Is your family always like that?” he asked.

You nodded, “Pretty much.”

“It makes a lot of sense now.”

“How so?”

“You don’t pull punches and almost always say what you’re thinking.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“No. No ‘supposing’. You know I’m right,” he turned his hat backward to eat. 

“And look what it got me,” you felt miserable. “You have a bruised cheek because I chose to be with someone who never chose to be with me.” You pointed two tables over to your right.

Jensen’s head turned to look for what had caught your attention. You couldn’t bring yourself to look that direction again and took a bite of the cornbread that you had been soaking in the gumbo. When Jensen started to rise, you put your hand on his to stop him. Slowly, he sat back down again. You could almost see the red rising in his skin.

“I love that you want to go over there, but don’t,” you said.

When Jensen turned back to you, the rage he felt showed in his eyes and you could see the white all the way around his now, very dark, green eyes.

“Jay…” you waited for the rage to settle, not letting go of his balled up fist. Eventually the tension released and you let go.

“He’s not worth getting mad over,” you said, calmly, surprising even yourself.

Jensen took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking again. “He’s disgusting,” he said of fuck face, “she can’t be more than 20.”

“Jay, he’s not my problem. Don’t even engage, he’ll just drag you down,” you stirred your gumbo, disappointed in the soupiness of it. Instead, you decided it was a good thing since you felt a little sick at the sight of fuckface with someone new already. Not to mention, they were behaving like teenagers with their overt PDA.

You rested your head on your right hand to block them out of your peripheral vision and dabbed the cornbread into the gumbo hoping the cornbread might help calm your stomach.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, just not very hungry all of a sudden.”

“Wanna do something else?”

“Skeeball?”

He smirked, “Cuz you beat me at that game.”

You grinned, “You forgot to say ‘all the time’. I beat you at skeeball all the time.”

“I’m still not convinced you don’t cheat,” he grumbled.

“Is there something that would convince you, or is it only the ass-whooping I deal out the only thing?”

“Not even so much as a pity win for me,” he took a few bites.

You sipped your soda. “That would not be good sportsmanship.”

“Alright, I’m done,” he collected both of your dishes and disposed of them. “Let’s go find a game where I can whoop your ass.”

“Mhm. Okay. Let’s see,” you said. “Glutton for punishment.”

Jensen spent a lot of money on tickets for what turned out to be very little return… for him. Eventually, he found a shooting game he wanted to try and you backed out of to let him have his moment to shine. Not surprisingly, when you weren’t up against him he did really well and cleared all of the targets.

“So are you just always letting me win?” you asked as he gleefully handed over more money to keep playing.

“Hell no. I just do better with an audience,” he said, picking up the small air rifle. I just want to impress you, he thought.

When Jensen had shot enough targets, it was time to pick out a prize.

“Lady’s choice,” he deferred to you.

“I’ll take the tiger stuffie,” you said.

The carnival worker handed you the toy. “Got a few more credits left. Want anything from here?”

You looked where he indicated and selected a ring-pop in your favorite flavor. “I love these things. Thank you!”

The carnie wished you a good night and immediately began calling for more players.

“How’s your stomach?” he asked, looking at the Scrambler.

“Good enough,” you told him, but your anxiety kicked in when you got in the small line.

It was getting late and had gotten dark. Most of the people with little kids had left, but the fair was still bustling with people.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You have a look on your face.”

“I don’t want to crush you.”

It was his turn to give you a look. He had no idea what you meant.

“How would you do that?”

The emotional turmoil was threatening to bubble up again but it came in the form of tears and you could barely whisper, “Because I’m so big.”

He grasped your shoulders and leaned down to look you in the eyes. “I don’t know what, or who, made you feel that way, but you are not, you hear me? You are absolutely perfect just the way you are, no matter what. I swear, if that douche canoe made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful person he’s ever been lucky enough to be with, say the word and I’ll go kill him now.”

He hadn’t, but you weren’t about to tell Jensen that. There were times, like this time, that Jensen was a lot like his character, Dean, and you knew, without a doubt, that he would follow through with his threat if you gave the okay. Truthfully, your body image issues had been with you even before you met Jensen.

“No, it’s not his fault. This is all me,” you whispered.

“Do you want to go?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Let’s ride, I don’t want to ruin the last night you’re here.”

“Not possible,” he said, matter of fact. “Any day with you is a good day, and don’t you forget it.” And if I die because of your body on top of mine, then I would die a happy man. An image of her nearly naked silhouette flashed into his mind and his imagination placed her in several very pleasing positions. He could see everything perfectly as…

“Jay, you coming?”

He looked up suddenly and snapped back to reality. He followed her to their car. They ended up riding the Scrambler and Tilt-a-Whirl several times and Jensen had loved every second of it. You were getting tired again. You’d stopped the rides for a while to watch the live band.

“We have to ride the Ferris Wheel before we go,” you insisted.

“Yeah, we do. Been eyeing it all night.” Which was true, but only because he wasn’t sure if it was too high or not. He was okay with being up high, but if he looked down, that was another story.

For you, the Ferris Wheel was the best part of the rides at the fair. It was a little scary, but that was what made it great, too. When it was your turn, you eagerly took your spot on the seat. Jensen wedged himself into the corner of the seat.

“Do I smell bad?” you teased. He didn’t look scared, but he wasn’t excited like you were either. The lap bar locked into place and you slid over next to Jensen and snaked your arm through his. “Just wait til you see the view.”

Eventually, the wheel paused with the car at the top and she elbowed his side to get his attention.

“Look,” she whispered. 

He was looking, but not at the view.

“The lights on the water and look at the houses,” she said, looking at her hometown with wonder.

“Yeah,” he noticed the curve of her ear and the way she tucked her hair behind it, her hair sweeping against her neck. He thought he could just use his finger to brush it aside and kiss her neck… “The view is pretty amazing,” he eventually said, turning his admiring gaze away from her.

The Ferris Wheel started and they took several rotations before it began to slow down to let off riders. The fair had an unofficial shut down time and you and Jensen were lucky enough to be on the last ride. You made sure you had your tiger stuffie and you walked with Jensen back to his car and went home.

“Nova?” he said stepping inside your apartment with you.

“Hmmm?”

“Promise me something?”

“What?”

“Don’t live your whole life here. I know you travel, and that’s great but you deserve more than what this town offers.”

“I thought you like it here?”

“I do, I just… want more for you.”

“Maybe this is all I need. Maybe what I need is to be exactly where I am. This is who I am. I don’t need a spotlight shone on me.”

“Well, I thought you wanted more.”

“If I am meant to have something, it will come to me. I just told my boyfriend of four years to fuck off and he already has a new piece. Maybe you’re right. Maybe what I need is to get as far a-fucking-way from here as possible.”

“Now you’re talking. Austin? Vancouver? L.A.?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Where then?”

“Australia.”

“Whoa, hold on now. You’re going to the extreme, aren’t you? Two seconds ago, you were fine with living here forever and now you’re leaving the hemisphere?”

“I’ve always wanted to go and I have the means. My life here is a fucking joke. I have no love-life, no life, and no prospects. Something has to change and this is the perfect solution! And, it will be great material for a book. How can I write effectively if I don’t have experiences?!” A brief, devastating, revelation had hit you like a freight train and you needed to act on it before it slipped away. You realized you’d only been living for the time you spent with Jensen and not for yourself and it needed to change immediately or you would be stuck, forever, in the same rut.

That hadn’t gone at all how he thought it would. All he wanted was for (Y/N) to get out of her town and experience life somewhere else, like Vancouver…

“My friend, Christie, lives in Sydney. I should call her…” you were eager to get going.

“Can we talk about this a little more? It seems a little drastic.”

“No.” You shut him down. “I don’t want you trying to talk me out of it. I do need a change, Jensen, and not one that revolves around you. I have two lives. The one where I’m with you and the one where I’m not. The one where I’m not, fucking sucks, so I’m going to fix it. It’s still not our time, Jay, so I’m not going to sit around and wait for it.”

Jensen looked angry, but you were ready to go toe to toe with him if you had to.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said.

“I don’t want to fight with you!”

“Good.”

“Good!”

“Alright! Now what?”

“I don’t fucking know!”

“We good?”

“Yeah? I kinda wanna punch you,” you said, “but, yeah.”

“Good, I don’t want to go back to work and have any bad blood between us.”

You thought you were good. You didn’t think either of you had done or said anything you couldn’t come back from.

“No. I think we’re good. Just don’t try to run my life, I already have a mother,” you gave him a pointed look.

“I’m sorry. I overstepped…. Do you want to stay up with me or are you going to bed?”

Your eyes went to the digital clock on the stove, 2:47. “What time do you need to go?”

“Airport opens at 5. I have, literally, the first flight out at 5:45. Figured I’d try to be there when it opens. Load up at 4? I still have to return the car.

“I’ll stay up,” you yawned. 

He smirked. “Sure you will.”

“I will!”

“I believe that you want to,” he grinned, “execution tends to be lacking.”

“Not all of us can sleep at the drop of a hat.”

“It’s a gift,” he quipped. “You’d think you would be good at it, too.” He said moving towards the suede sectional in the living room. “Especially doing shift work.”

“Another great reason to get the hell out of dodge. I hate doing shift work. I should be a supervisor by now. I’m gonna have a lot of loose ends to tie up… Maybe I can get supervisor work overseas.”

“Definitely worth looking into.”

You sat on the couch facing each other, within arms reach. You rested your head on your hand that was on the back of the couch while you talked with Jensen.

(Y/N) was fading fast. Each blink of her eyes was a little slower than the last. He started humming a song and her head settled down onto her arm, fully asleep. He checked the clock and had just enough time to take a quick shower and get his things together before he needed to head out to the airport.

When he was showered and packed, he went back to the living room. (Y/N) was still sleeping, so he carefully picked her up and carried her to her bed.

“Oh no, I fell asleep,” she mumbled.

He chuckled, “It’s alright. I know you tried.” He laid her down and made sure everything was in place so she would find it. He covered her with a blanket because even in the middle of summer, her apartment was as cold as a meat locker. He leaned down, pushed back the hair on her forehead to kiss it. 

“Until next time, best pen pal ever,” he said softly.

“I love you, sweet boy,” she mumbled, still more asleep than awake.

When you woke a few hours later, a pang of deep sadness hit you because Jensen was gone again. However, the excitement of a new adventure helped you not dive head first into the depression pool. You rolled over in your bed and were going to pull the pillow he’d used, only there was a crystal star sitting on top of it, including a note he’d written.

Setting aside the Swarovski star, you opened the folded piece of paper addressed to you.

“(Y/N), I want nothing but the best for you and I hope you find it. If you get lost along the way, I will always be here to help you find your way.” – Jensen. P.S. You better write me from your new address as soon as you get settled.”

[hamsterbellbelle]

Additional CC list for Harajuku 2077 Girl Apartment🎦:

Bag - A - B - C || Bathroom clutter - A - B || Bathroom mirror || Bowls || Box || Brick wall || Bunny pillow || Card wallet || Cardboard rug || Cat pouf || Cereal || Chair with clothes || Circle painting || Clothes clutter/shoes || Cloud mirror || Coat rack || Conduit || Cookware(dirty) || Counter || Cute planter || Decor tablet/Paw markers || Divider || Doll (Teddy) - A - B || Door curtain || Drink crate || Entrance shelf || Floor dirt || Folding chair || Fridge || Hamper (deco) || Hot cocoa || Hotpot (deco) || Japanese lamp || Kawaii bubble tea || Kitchen bottle || Kitchen rack || Lantern || Laser wall light || Magazines || Mirror/dolls || Modular sofa/Vinyl stacks || Neon - Dragon - Lizzie's - Rainbow ceiling - Sakura || Plastic stool || Posted notes || Posters/floor clothes || Posters || Potato plush (doll) || Rice cooker (deco) || Robe || Rug || Rug ||

Shoe box/plant/trashcan || Shoe rack/tray || Shower caddy || Sink || Sink || Soda can(crashed)/Chips/mails || Square fan || Stacked cereal boxes || Stickers || Stacked cups || Stove || Surge plug/phone (deco) || Tablecloth || Teapot || Thrown clothes/jacket/floor lightbulb || Tissue box || Toilet paper || Toothpaste || Towel || Used tissue || Vinyl/shelf/amp || Vinyl || Vinyl || Wall dirt || Wallpaper - A - B - C - D || Wardrobe || 🐹             🐹             🐹             🐹             🐹 Animated magazines/stacked || Coat rack || Cyberpunk decal || Cyberpunk divider || Cyberpunk poster || Cyberpunk record player || Cyberpunk TV || Elevated microwave || Suitcase laptop ||

[sixamite]

Unpleasant Company: An Every Lot Challenge Challenge

inspired by James Turner *This challenge incorporates mods and cheats and was designed with all the packs in mind, feel free to change the rules around to fit your game.

The Premise:

In a Stardew Valley moment, Angela and Lilith Pleasant have inherited a farm in Chestnut Ridge. However, it's in disrepair. In order to sell it, you need to live there for a while (perhaps a long while...) and fix it up! You will have a list of goals to perform, with every goal, you can remove a lot trait or challenge. Once you've completed all the goals and removed all the challenges and negative lot traits, the challenge is over (as long as you've repaired the relationship between the sisters...) In order to formally finish the challenge, Angela and Lilith must have a dynamic of close, a full relationship bar, and be BFFs. Sounds simple enough, right? Oh, by the way, you're only allowed to leave the lot once a week (see rules below).

The Setup:

The Sims:

Create two YA sims. They can be Angela and Lilith but they don't have to be. You could even try it with a married couple like the Pancakes by adjusting some rules. The world is your oyster. Their traits should conflict (make sure they have awful compatibility!), but you have some freedom with this. I used EA's traits for the twins (Neat/Outgoing/Ambitious for Angela, and Slob/Loner/Kleptomaniac for Lilith). I gave them both the Dastardly bonus trait because I like things difficult I guess. You'll be completing several aspirations for each Sim, but you're not allowed to change the bonus trait. Once you have the sims, move them into any lot, they won't be there long. To Angela (or whoever your "Paragon" is, add the following traits using mods and/or cheats: Top Notch Infant, Top Notch Toddler, Responsible, Emotional Control, Mediator, Good Manners, Compassionate, High Self Esteem. Your Paragon either graduated high school as valedictorian or they graduated early. I also gave Angela the People Person lifestyle. For Lilith (or your "Rebel"), add: Unhappy Infant, Low Self Esteem, Bad Manners, Irresponsible, Uncontrolled Emotions, Argumentative, Insensitive (called "Unfeeling" in the game's code which I find very confusing). Lilith either dropped out or was expelled from high school and is not going to go back. I took everything a step further and made everything about them opposite, so they have different favorite drinks, different favorite movie genres, different weather likes, and opposing political positions. Now make Lilith a werewolf. Cheat the girls' relationship down to -100 and make sure their dynamic is set on difficult. You could have them declare the other an enemy but I didn't do so.

The Farm:

Grandpa's farm was in Chestnut Ridge. I used the 50x50 in Galloping Gulch but you can use any medium to large lot. Be aware that the 64x64 lot in Rider's Glen is a little bugged (Wild Prairie Grass won't grow there for some reason and horses tend to wander off to the side and not come back unless you go get them). Build a house! It can be as big or as small as you want but try to make it seem rundown. Give the girls the cheapest beds (I used the debug ones from Eco Lifestyle). You need to have certain items: an animal shed, a chicken coop, some gardening plots and/or planters, a kitchen, a bathroom, a computer, a bookshelf, the wash tub and clothing line from Laundry Day, a thermostat, an air conditioner, the water heater and electrical fuse box from For Rent, and a pool (but make sure it's gross looking). It is also extremely handy to have a dumpster. Do not buy: a painting easel, massage table, a yoga mat, a meditation stool, a gemology table, a TV, any kind of water/power generating devices, nectar making equipment, a selling table, or a food stand. You can buy all these later but you have to earn the simoleons first. Apply the following lot traits: Cat Hangout, Dog Hangout, and (your choice) Vampire Nexus or Mean Vibe. Now apply every single lot challenge the game has.

Now:

Move the girls into your fixer upper ranch/farm/nightmare using freerealestate. Buy a cow, some chickens, and a few Starter seed packets. Now set the family's money to 500 simoleons. We begin!

The Goals:

To get rid of a lot challenge or negative trait, you have to accomplish a goal. After one of the following is accomplished, use a random number generator or dice or a wheel or whatever to determine which challenge or trait to remove. You may NOT remove Simple Living until after the Grilled Cheese aspiration is completed.

Lilith Reaches the Top of the Criminal career (either branch)

Angela completes any degree

Angela completes the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

Angela completes the Friend of the World aspiration

Angela achieves a Pristine reputation

Lilith achieves an Atrocious reputation

Lilith has children as a single mother (the old fashioned way, no science babies, but no one moves in with her either). She may either have triplets, or, if you fail to conceive triplets, she can have twins but she'll need to do so twice. The two sets of twins do not have to have the same father but they can.

Lilith completes the Lone Wolf aspiration (you're allowed to leave Chestnut Ridge to go to Moonwood Mill to fight Greg only after achieving every other milestone in the aspiration and maxing out the Fitness skill; you are only allowed to fight Greg in Moonwood Mill. No lollygagging!)

Angela completes the Bestselling Author aspiration

Angela achieves Global Superstar fame level

Someone completes the Expert Nectar Maker aspiration

Someone completes the Grilled Cheese aspiration

Angela completes the Painter Extraordinaire aspiration (you may cheat to complete the milestone that involves going to a Gallery)

Someone grows a Cowplant

Angela maxes Wellness (she'll help out later by giving Lilith a fertility massage to increase the chance of triplets!)

Someone max upgrades a rocket

Someone maxes Handiness

Lilith completes the Body Builder aspiration (you may cheat to complete the milestone that involves going to a Gym)

Someone completes the Crystal collection

Someone completes the Crystal crafter aspiration

The Challenges:

Dust System

Laundry System

Cat Hangout

Dog Hangout

Vampire Nexus or Mean Vibe

Off the Grid

Quake Zone

Cursed

Grody

Gremlins

Filthy

Spooky

Creepy Crawlies

Volcanic Activity

Reduce and Recycle

Simple Living

Wild Foxes

Wild Prairie Grass

Mold

Maintenance Troubles

Rules and Restrictions:

The girls are only let out of their hellhole on Fridays during daytime. They must go to New Appaloosa. Sell nectar to Roberto Crinkletop, sell produce to the general store, make friends, start fights, have yard sales, but ONLY Fridays during daylight hours and only in New Appaloosa. I highly recommend removing or disabling any Home Regions-type mod you may have. There are only so many sims in Chestnut Ridge, and Lilith has to spar with werewolves for one of her aspirations (in addition, make sure 'Limit Werewolves to Moonwood Mill' is toggled off in game options). Note: if you have more pressing things to do on the ranch, one or both of the girls can skip their Friday trip, but keep in mind you're only allowed out once a week! The girls will regularly be going out to rabbitholes (Angela to school, Lilith to work) and this is fine.

Once your rocket is max upgraded, you may freely travel to Sixam. All upgrades must be installed first, however.

At least until Simple Living comes off, the girls must always have at least two chickens and a cow. If your livestock die or seek greener pastures due to insufficient care, just buy more. Animal Aging should be on.

No fire alarms or sprinkler systems.

Angela may never have a job.

Lilith's job cannot contribute to the family income. (I use SNB Banking for this. I set her up a debit account, set up direct deposit and I don't touch that money, but you can use cheats to reset their money too after each work day too.) All reward unlocks should stay in the family inventory, selling them counts as contributing to the family income.

No money trees.

You are not allowed to sell through the inventory. Nectar goes to Roberto Crinkletop (or the store), produce goes to the store, and there is no limit on what/where/when you can set up a yard sale or a food sale.

No getting rid of lifestyles through cheaty methods (Lifestyle Go Poof Reward Potion and Lifestyle Coaching). You can toggle lifestyles off if you want but I think they're a fun challenge.

The family dynamic must change naturally, over time. No using the Dynamic No More Reward Potion.

No using Fear-Be-Gone and all fears should be resolved by the end of the challenge.

All reward traits and all reward potions are allowed except the three just mentioned. Go crazy with the Moodlet Solvers if you want!

No clubs.

No sheltered plants.

The charging and wearing of crystal jewelry is allowed and encouraged!

Lilith can use whatever werewolf abilities she can unlock. You can randomize her temperaments or give them to her with cheats based on her personality. I started her off with the Anti-Capitalist Canine temperament.

I use Little Ms Sam's No Aging trait for Angela and Lilith but you could just turn aging off if you want and age Lilith's kids and any pets up manually. You could alternatively play with aging on and use Potions of Youth at leisure, but I personally don't do well under time pressure. Normal or long lifespan is probably best.

Lilith's kids may be moved out once they reach YA but they don't have to be.

No one else can move in but stay over guests are welcome. Your Sims may adopt any of the strays that come around at any point but make sure the house has enough room for Lilith's kids.

No locking doors or gates and no garlic braids or wreaths. If Vlad comes knocking, Vlad comes knocking.

You can replace lot traits with anything you want once they come off but just the once.

On activity likes and dislikes: you have two options here, either the girls can like and dislike whatever the game assigns them automatically or they can like and dislike nothing.

On Self Discovery: either turn it off, or accept whatever the game hands you every time.

The dust system should be on to begin with.

Mods are obviously allowed but try to steer clear of ones that make the game easier (i.e. easier infant care, less crazy werewolves, burn out tweaks). I would also use caution with mods that make the game much harder, especially more intense fires and more deathly electrocution, but you do you.

Tips:

How can I grow a Cowplant if I'm not allowed out to find a Cowplant Berry? Grafting! It can be a long process, but it's totally doable.

How can I get triplets? Once you've gotten at least one lot trait removed, add the On Ley Line lot trait. Save up Reward points and buy the Fertile Reward Trait for Lilith. Have Angela give Lilith a Fertility Massage (she's supposed to max Wellness anyway). Use Gemology (Shinolite is the crystal you're looking for).

[nigthbreed]

The Murder of Joyce Nelson

If you have seen the Netflix documentary, it is difficult to think about Joyce Nelson without recalling her family’s devastation when they discuss her personality, the way she dressed and her fears. The family display a justified hatred and disgust towards her killer. They believe wholeheartedly that Richard was convicted with conclusive evidence.

When examining the details of Nelson case, it is plain to see that no real evidence tied Richard to the crime. One might feel a sinking feeling: if Richard Ramirez was not the killer, these poor people never had justice and the killer might still be free and probably went on to kill others. For anyone in this situation, that would be difficult to process. How does one deal with that? Can it really be true that the wrong man was caught and sentenced to death? That you were misled by both the police and the courts? It feels cruel to the family to write this, but there was no concrete evidence that Richard was the Night Stalker.

What Happened?

On 7th July, 1985, Joyce Nelson’s neighbour, Robert Blanco, noticed Joyce’s back gate was open at 6am. Blanco entered her yard and heard her TV on and called out. There was no response. He checked on her again at 9am, with the same result. At this point, Blanco noticed the window screen from the front window lying in her flowerbed. The window itself was open. Her front door was also open. The back door screen had also been cut. Blanco alerted another neighbour who called the police.

Joyce had been beaten over the head, (which was not the immediate cause of death) and then manually strangled. She had fought her attacker and sustained a broken nail and severe bruising and cuts to the face.

Physical Evidence at the Scene

Partial shoe prints in the planter under the window and on the porch.

A shoe print on Joyce Nelson’s face and robe.

Palm prints on the bedroom door and windowsill.

Glove marks on a file box in the other bedroom.

Hairs were found.

Enter: Avias

By this time, a big deal is being made by the police about the ubiquitous Avia prints. After they were found at the previous attack two days earlier, (Whitney Bennett), Sergeant Frank Salerno had finally come on board Carrillo’s serial killer train, so of course they had to appear here too in such a conspicuous place – the victim’s face. Salerno even brought a pair along with him to compare the prints. If the circumstances were not so horrific, it would be comical.

As always, the unqualified Gerald Burke plodded along to confirm the prints were indeed the Murder Avias – although we know Burke is not a reliable witness – he later perjured himself regarding the Cannon Incident five days earlier (the prints at Cannon had been inconclusive and shoe forensics expert Lisa DiMeo discovered the jury had seen faked shoe evidence). So, forgive us for implying the shoe is fabricated and preposterous at this point.

For Richard’s appeals, four partial shoe prints were examined by Lisa DiMeo. From Document 7-19.

None of this was presented at the actual trial, because the defence did not bother.

Oops – Richard dropped someone else’s hairs again

The prosecution repeatedly used those shoes to link seemingly unconnected crimes. A competent defence should have demonstrated that not only were these crimes unconnected but at Bell & Lang, Cannon, Bennett and later, the Kneiding and Abowath attacks, ‘Richard’ shed some hairs that were not his. All the hairs at Joyce Nelson’s murder scene were medium brown.

Glove Prints and Palm Prints.

First of all, glove prints cannot be used as evidence. They do not leave identifiable prints. So that must be thrown out. But the palm prints could not have been Richard’s otherwise the prosecution would have mentioned it and it would have seemed damning from a juror’s perspective, despite how unreliable fingerprint science was in the 80s.

So, it was not Richard’s hair and it was not his palm print… can the verdict really rest on partial shoeprint evidence? Wait, there’s a witness!

It was Launie Dempster, the all-seeing (literally – she had x-ray vision) newspaper deliverer again.

Dempster’s route and witness statements are presented in more detail in the Doi Incident post, but here is a recap of the locations where she claimed to have seen ‘Richard’:

14th May – man in a car opposite the Doi residence where William was killed.

(Approximately) 28th May, the same man, in the car again, on San Patricio Drive. Richard was given an alibi by his father and a family friend in El Paso for this date. (Their claim that he was there beyond the 29th was disproved by dental records)

(Approximately) 5th July, a man is seen standing by a car, close to Joyce Nelson’s home.

If Dempster saw ‘Richard’ in East Arlight Street on 5th July, not only is this date irrelevant to Joyce Nelson’s murder, which occurred on 7th July, but by placing him in Monterey Park at 3am, she unwittingly gave Richard an alibi for the Bennett attack, in Sierra Madre, 11 miles away. If Richard really was the man in Monterey Park, then he cannot have been one of Whitney Bennett’s attackers.

Dempster’s description is odd. She claims ‘Richard’ was wearing a short-sleeved shirt but also a jacket. Unless she witnessed him in the act of putting the jacket on, she would not be able to see the length of his sleeves. And there is nothing significant about her seeing a man by his car. People get in and out of their cars at all times of the day or night.

Not only that, each time Launie Dempster had seen him, it was around 3am – 4am, in the dark and he was wearing dark clothes and sitting in a dark car. How can one accurately identify someone in these conditions?

Even less likely when one considers that she had not bothered to inform the police she had seen a man near Nelson’s home until she had seen Richard Ramirez on the news. This strange delay in informing the police was also the case with Sophie Dickman, Somkid Khovananth, Virginia Petersen and the strange woman who thought an innocent man with a cat was Richard.

The bumbling, blundering defence counsel failed to adequately cross-examine Launie Dempster and her motivations for reporting her sighting so late, and never questioned her on what characteristics the suspect had that led her to believe he was Richard Ramirez.

Now that Launie Dempster has been ruled out as a reliable witness, we are still in the position of having Avia shoe prints as the primary evidence, and there is no proof Richard Ramirez ever owned a pair. Things should have looked bad for the prosecution but unfortunately, when the defendant had a bunch of clowns and the abhorrent Ray Clark as his defence counsel, he ended up with this conviction.

Felipe Solano Yet Again

Items stolen from Joyce Nelson’s home ended up in the possession of the notorious LA ‘fence’, Felipe Solano, but he and all the other burglar associates were never brought to trial, some were given immunity and the chain of ownership of the stolen items was never established. Moreover, none of the stolen property was recovered directly from Richard and his fingerprints were not found on any of them. Felipe Solano’s name keeps coming up. He will be examined in an upcoming post.

Connections to Other Attacks

The prosecution attempted to connect Nelson with Cannon and Bennett because all three women were hit over the head and manually strangled. While the crimes look similar, this theory could easily have been pulled apart, had the defence presented the necessary evidence. Someone else’s blood was found at both Cannon and Bennett, and someone else’s hair was found at all three locations, but were the hairs at each crime compared with each other? The Cannon and Bennett attacks were geographically close, but Nelson was much further away. All that appears to connect them is the shoes, but we now know the prints at Cannon were bogus. That is to say, faked evidence from the Cannon crime created a ‘spillover effect’, which caused Richard to be convicted of Nelson.

They also attempted to connect Joyce Nelson’s murder to the Dickman Incident because they occurred on the same night. Sophie Dickman lived just a mile away and was the victim of a rape and burglary. Detective Carrillo claims that Richard had not achieved his sexual gratification from Joyce’s murder so went to deal with his ‘unfinished business’ at Sophie Dickman’s. This is pure conjecture and also ridiculous – Sophie Dickman was threatened with a gun. If Joyce Nelson’s killer had a gun, why did he not use it? To say Richard was a circumstantial killer and did not have a modus operandi is lazy and too convenient. If Joyce was murdered first, then why did Sophie Dickman not report that her killer was covered in blood and bruises, from where Joyce had fought back? Because these two crimes were committed almost simultaneously a mile apart by two different men because crime in Los Angeles County was and still is out of control.

So, what is the evidence Richard Ramirez committed this brutal murder? Shoeprints. That is it. Shoes that were never proven to be his.

Do not be angry at bloggers; save your fury for Gil Carrillo and Frank Salerno for pinning all these crimes on a mentally disturbed and brain-injured young man. Be angry at Richard’s appalling lawyers for not defending him and covering up his mental illness for financial reasons.

Joyce Nelson and her family have not had the justice they deserve.

-VenningB-

Read full article here

[jellorat]

More work on the Garden

Slowly but surely I am working in the garden. It is definitely a bit frustrating taking so long on things because my body can literally not keep up. I miss my 20s and 30s where my joint issues and pain were not as severe, and I could do all this in probably a solid weekend.

Anyway, I am proud of what I have going on.

I got both walls up, and all the long beds in. I ran out of chicken wire though. I won't have that until Monday. Which is annoying!

My plan is to get the last two circle planters done, and the PVC door frame. I can chicken wire the damn thing when the wire comes in.

I have some dirt, but I don't think it's enough. I probably need like anothet $300ish dollars. I literally have nothing in dirt.

But wait. . . Whats' the pile of dirt in teh below picture?

I can't use that lump of dirt in my beds. I pulled that out of my lawn, and it's sod, dirt, rocks, glass, plastic, roofing shingles, oyster shells?, playing cards, beer cans, and god knows what else. I don't feel it's safe to have in with my vegetables.

Instead, since I don't have a truck, I have been packing it into amazon boxes, and putting it in the garbage one box at a time.

This is besides feeding an entire disassembled TV console into the garbage, one or two boards at a time.

Who knew homeownership would also include patiently disposing of items you had no ability to get rid of any other way.

As always, work is dependent on my body's ability to keep up.

I guess it's good that spring just sort of started up this week, and was so late, because I had nothing done in time anyway. However, at least it will all be set up for next year, and all I'll have to do is to amend the soil and plant.

[artificialqueens]

Masters of the Scene, Chapter 20 (Bitney Parent Trap AU) - Veronica 

A/N: Thank you so much to @tumble4rpdr for her absolutely amazing feedback as beta, and to anyone to who left comments and kudos and likes: you guys are awesome, and truly know how to keep me inspired. 

Click here for prequels and previous chapters, or here if you’d rather read on AO3. 

Chapter Summary: Bianca gets familiar with the farm, and they all have an extremely awkward family lunch. 

***

Bianca hated to admit it, but as soon as Courtney was gone, she felt the burden of pressing, immediate guilt being lifted a little from her chest, and she could follow the kids around while acting (and breathing) normally. 

Danny’s room was in no way a ‘baby room’ - it was full of fun, bright colors, joyously reflective of his personality. The overflowing bookcases covering one whole wall showed what an avid reader he was; the dinosaur collection arranged in adorable groups looked, intentionally or not, like multi-species family photos. There was a row of glittering prisms in the windows that cast ever-moving rainbows onto the whole room. 

The kids then showed her the “secret” staircase in the corridor between their bathrooms, which led to a shared loft space. It was basically the world’s coolest indoor treehouse, tricked out like every tween’s fantasy rec room: a giant TV, video games, mini-fridge and popcorn machine, a plush rug, bean bag chairs, mounds of pillows and blankets and cute inflatable furniture. Future den of sin, Bianca noted, while also admiring what a cozy space Courtney had designed for them. 

“Mum doesn’t like us to have too much screen time in our bedrooms,” Danny explained. 

“Good luck controlling that,” Bianca chuckled.

“We’ve told her,” Adore said.

“But also…” Danny gestured around. “Who’s gonna say no to this?” 

Bianca laughed, nodding. Who indeed. 

They continued on. The house was huge, even more spacious than Bianca would have guessed from that amazing kitchen, but it was laid out so thoughtfully, full of personal touches like reclaimed wood, framed photos of the kids at every age, art from all over the world, bursts of color and warmth everywhere. It was a sharp contrast to the cold, sterile interiors Bianca was used to from people with money for this type of space. 

There was a grand entry hall that led into a chic but inviting living room, perfect for entertaining, along with a 16-seat movie theatre. A gently curved staircase led up to several spare bedrooms, in a separate wing from the kids, and another set of stairs led back down into a warm and cozy family room. Next to the library. A library, for christ’s sake. 

By the time they got to the dining room, which easily sat twenty, Bianca had lost count of the number of fireplaces she’d seen. They walked through another living room, this one sunken and half outside. It opened up to a patio with a view of the pristine swimming pool with its cascading waterfalls. 

“The other guest rooms are above the pool house,” Danny said, as they walked past yet another fireplace, “And that’s the outdoor kitchen.” 

He gestured to the other side of the patio, where Courtney was standing in front of a large grill. 

“Hi Mum!” Adore chirped, skipping forward to give Courtney a kiss. 

“Hi darling! Are you all finished?” 

“Yeah, we did most of the house, except your room, but that’s boring.”

“Excuse me, my room is lovely.” 

“Blech, it’s all neutrals.”

Courtney didn’t engage with that insult, just laughed and said, “Well, this’ll be ready in about 10 minutes, if you wanna go up and see the garden.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want some help?” Bianca asked. 

“No, it’s all under control. Mostly leftovers,” Courtney said, waving dismissively at the colorful spread taking shape on the table, which most definitely did not look like ‘leftovers.’ But she clearly wanted them to back off, so that’s what Bianca did, following the kids around the pool, up a curved stone pathway.

She’d been seeing the gardens in Courtney’s videos for years. It started with a few planter boxes, a handful of fruit trees that were already on the property, and the citrus trees that Courtney planted when they’d first moved in. It was a bit sad and sparse in the beginning, but she’d kept at it, adding new boxes every year, building out the space, planting more and more. Eventually hiring a few people to help when it became too much for one person. 

It looked like the Garden of Eden now. Lush, colorful, bursting with life. They wandered around a bit, meandering around the walkways, checking out the fruit and vegetables in various stages of development. It was so much more impressive than Bianca ever thought possible based on videos and pictures. So much more alive, with bees buzzing and butterflies fluttering about. Birds of every kind were chirping and singing, while a squirrel scampered over the path, darting into the nearby trees. 

It wasn’t lost on Bianca that she’d asked, practically demanded, for Courtney to leave this place behind. This place that she’d been pouring her heart and soul into for so long, dismissed as her plants. 

How could she have done that? How would she be able to express remorse for that? To show that she really meant it when she said she was sorry? Would Courtney have any reason to believe her?

Bianca closed her eyes and breathed in. She could feel her heart beating quickly, the shame and regret almost suffocating, out here in the sunshine. For most people, the fresh scents of life and fruit and flowering plants and vibrant sounds of birds would be soothing and wonderful. For Bianca, they suddenly represented her own personal hell. 

“Are you okay, Mama?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah!” Bianca’s eyes flew open. “Just not used to, uh, being up this high.” 

“Oh. Yeah, but don’t worry. We’re really far from the cliff.”

“There’s a cliff?” Adore asked, eyes wide. 

“It’s like a mile away,” Danny said. “You’re fine.” 

Bianca put her arms around both kids and gestured to a large building on the other side of the gardens, down a gentle slope covered in tall grass and wildflowers. “Is that the famous Barn?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Very nice.” The ‘Barn’ was the space where Courtney had her studio. She knew from watching her YouTube channels that it was where she shot and edited her videos, and also where she had a suite of offices for her nonprofit work. It was bigger than Bianca expected—although at this point, she wasn’t sure why that was a surprise anymore. 

“So, do you want to go see the-” Danny stopped talking as Adore’s stomach let out a loud rumble. “Uh, excuse you, ma’am.”

“Sorry, I’m hungry,” Adore whined. 

“Let’s go check on lunch,” Bianca suggested. 

***

Lunch, as it turned out, was nearly ready. Courtney asked Danny to retrieve some homemade lemonade from inside, and for Adore to get out the plates and silverware. 

“Can I do anything?” Bianca asked. 

“Uh, sure. Why don’t you help Danny? It’s a lot to carry.” 

“Sure,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes slightly. 

“What?” Courtney’s voice had a bit of an edge to it, the ‘t’ sharper than normal. 

“It…just feels a little like when you ask a three-year-old to help mix the cake batter,” Bianca explained, chuckling. “But yeah, I’ll help Danny.” 

“You really think I would patronize you like that?” Courtney asked, jaw clenched slightly. 

“Well, no…” Small talk, small talk, Bianca’s inner voice warned. “No, that’s not what I…”

Courtney turned back wordlessly to the grill, and Bianca felt her stomach drop. She swallowed quietly and stepped inside, racking her brain for ways to change this tense dynamic. When she and Danny returned, Adore was cheerfully setting the table. 

“You know how to set a table?” Bianca asked, surprised. She’d never seen her do anything remotely like that. She set down the pitcher of raspberry lemonade. 

“Yeah, I’m not a moron,” Adore replied flatly. 

“I don’t think you’re a moron!” Bianca said, “I just think you-”

“Don’t know where forks go?” Adore crossed her arms.

“No!” Bianca sighed slightly, not wanting to get into it with her. “You know what? Forget what I said. You did a great job. And the food looks delicious.” 

The table was laden with an assortment of colorful Middle Eastern salads and dips and a big basket of warm flatbread in the middle. If this was leftovers, then Bianca was the next Queen of England.

“Thanks.” Courtney put down a platter of grilled vegetables that Bianca had to assume were from the garden - eggplant, artichokes, zucchini and yellow squash. It looked incredible. 

As they all sat down to eat, she noticed that Courtney seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact with her, primarily talking to the kids. Bianca supposed she couldn’t blame her, but it still stung. She looked down at her plate, picking at her food, her appetite not what it was a few minutes prior. 

Every so often, though, she would sneak a glance in Courteny’s direction—it was hard not to look at her, after all. 

Upon studying her face a little more, Bianca realized that Courtney may not have rushed getting ready as much as she thought, initially. She was definitely wearing mascara. And lip gloss. Maybe even a little eyeliner and blush. That kind of ‘no makeup’ makeup illusion that Courtney had perfected years ago. Seeing it made Bianca feel a little better for some reason—it had to mean something, that she was putting in effort. 

Maybe it was nothing, but Bianca hung onto it, allowing it to ease her fears a bit. A small ray of hope. At least enough that she could eat a few bites of food. 

“So, were you two good tour guides?” Courtney asked, brushing some hair out of Adore’s eyes. 

“I dunno, were we?” Adore asked, turning to Bianca. 

“Fantastic.” Bianca managed to look up at her with a smile. “Although there was one question you guys couldn’t answer.” 

“What question?” Danny asked.  

“In what universe is this a farmhouse?” Bianca asked, raising an eyebrow and spreading her hands. “This, is a palace. An estate. Or if you’re from where I am…a plantation, maybe.” 

“Oh. Well…Mum calls it a farmhouse,” Adore said, shrugging. She bit into her wrap, unbothered by this simplistic explanation. 

“It used to be smaller,” Danny said. 

“Well, the Grand Canyon used to be a little creek. And your Mum used to—”

“Okay,” Courtney interrupted, clearly not curious about the end of Bianca’s sentence. “‘Farmhouse’ refers to the building style, by the way. Not the size.” 

“Hmph. What size would that be, actually?” Bianca asked, raising her eyebrow curiously. 

“What do you mean?” Courtney spooned some couscous onto her plate, still not making eye contact.

“I mean how big?” she challenged. 

“Like square footage?” Courtney asked innocently.  

“Yeah. Square footage.” Bianca wondered why Courtney was so determined to avoid the question. 

“Off the top of my head?” she asked, finally catching Bianca’s eye, a note in her voice that was almost warm, almost teasing.

“Off the top of your head,” Bianca repeated, staring her down.  

“Oh, it’s so hard for me to remember things in feet, my brain is just rooted in metric-”

“Bullshit,” Bianca said, pointing her fork across the table. She knew that she was being pushy, but she wasn’t prepared to drop it, not now. She was a dog with a bone, finally getting Courtney’s attention, even if it was for a stupid bit of banter. “You know the square footage of your custom-built home, Courtney. Come on.”

“Well, you mean just the house, or like, everything?” Courtney asked, that teasing tone still present. “Because-”

“Everything. All the buildings on the plantation.” Bianca drummed her fingers on the table. She was well aware that Adore and Danny were watching them closely, eyes wide, attention going back and forth between them as if they were at a tennis match. 

Courtney swallowed, trying to sound humble as she said, “Umm, I guess, about fifteen…ish.” 

“Fifteen thousand? Square feet?” 

“Yeah. But that includes the barn, with the offices and—”

“Cheers,” Bianca said, lifting her glass, wishing there was something besides lemonade and sparkling water in there. “Well done.” 

“Thanks.” Courtney met her eyes again, nodding, her own eyes luminous, the pride in her expression only surpassed by her relief. But as quickly as it had appeared, the brightness faded and she looked away quickly. 

Bianca continued to watch her, aching for her to look back up once again, but she didn’t. Fuck. 

“Um…these tomatoes are really good, Mum,” said Adore, after a few moments, breaking the tension. 

“I’m glad you like them,” Courtney said with a smile. 

“They really do live up to the hype,” Bianca said, relieved that Adore had given her this opening.

Courtney didn’t say anything to that, simply letting out a small chuckle while she took a sip of her drink. 

“Although, you know, she won’t eat regular tomatoes anymore. Only heirloom,” Bianca grumbled, rolling her eyes to the sky. When all else failed, falling back on playful grumpiness seemed to be her best technique.

“They taste different!” Adore insisted. 

“When I was growing up, we were lucky to get tomatoes that didn’t come from a can,” Bianca told her. 

“Okay, well, sorry you were poor,” said Adore. “What does that have to do with me?” 

Courtney smothered a laugh behind her hand, as Bianca muttered a good-natured, “smartass,” under her breath. 

“Will you tell her they taste different?” Adore whined, pulling on Courtney’s sleeve. 

“They do taste different,” said Danny, coming to his sister’s defense. “Home-grown tomatoes taste way better than tomatoes from the grocery store.” 

“See! Even Roach agrees.” 

“I’m just saying, you’re not gonna die from a grocery store tomato,” Bianca told her. 

“If you’re gonna get tomatoes from the grocery store, especially out of season, then you should go for small ones. Cherry, grape. They taste the best,” Courtney said, unable to resist a teaching moment. 

“I told you!” Adore shrieked at Bianca accusingly, then turned back to Courtney to complain, “She doesn’t believe me, she always buys those horrible big ones with the vine attached.”

“Nooo, those are the worst ones!” Courtney said, hand to her chest, looking at Bianca like she was a serial killer. 

“I know.” Adore folded her arms smugly and looked over at Bianca. 

“Alright, just eat your lunch,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes. Nothing worse than an 11-year-old who was just told they were right about something. 

***

After they finished eating, they all helped bring the dishes inside. Courtney began to put the food away while the kids finished clearing and Bianca started loading the dishwasher. 

“Any special way you want me to do this?” Bianca asked, noting that the dishwasher was basically empty. 

“No, however you think it fits best.” 

“Uh…okay.” 

There was something almost heartbreakingly domestic about it, the two of them in the kitchen together with the kids still outside. Bianca took a deep breath and turned to Courtney, figuring that now was as good a time as any. Plus, the longer she took to bite the bullet, the harder it would be. 

“Listen…” Bianca cleared her throat as Courtney looked up, and she felt her cheeks heat up. She sounded entitled. She swallowed and shook her head slightly, starting again. “Do you think…could we maybe sit down and talk? Just the two of us?” 

Courtney looked at her for a few moments, and Bianca wondered at first if she would say no, before she gave a nod. “Yeah, of course. That sounds good. We should…I mean, yes.” 

Bianca sagged against the counter, relief flooding her veins. 

When the kids came back in with the rest of the dishes, Courtney ushered them upstairs, suggesting that Danny show Adore the story he wrote about camp for school. They both went easily, but not before throwing some coy looks over their shoulders, their eyes full of hope and expectation, making Bianca feel even more nervous than she already was. 

She went back to the dishwasher to finish while Courtney bustled around, brewing coffee and putting some things on a tray. Bianca couldn’t help watching her, how every movement she made was deliberate, almost as if performing an elaborately choreographed dance.

Bianca’s own hands felt clumsy as she glanced back down at the unfamiliar dishwasher. “Are you, um, sure you don’t have a preferred method here?” 

“No, however you do it is totally fine,” Courtney said.

“Is that code for ‘I’ll just rearrange it later’?” Bianca joked.

“No. It means that my life is just as busy as yours, so I don’t micromanage the fucking dishwasher. Not everything is a conspiracy against you,” Courtney snapped, dumping a bunch of ice into a ceramic container, the cubes clattering violently against the side. 

“I-” Bianca closed her eyes. Fuck. Why did she continually miscalculate every move, destroying every tentative peace between them? She felt incredibly stupid as she explained hoarsely, “I was kidding. I-I’m sorry.” 

Courtney was silent for a few moments, just standing at the counter, moving slowly, shoulders slumped and head down. Finally, Bianca heard an audible swallow, followed by a soft, whispered, “Fuck.” 

*

Courtney gripped the edge of the counter, doing her best to breathe. 

Why did Bianca have the ability to get to her like this? Of course it was a joke. She knew that, but it had still gotten under her skin. Because she’d made another joke just like it earlier, about the fucking lemonade. And besides that, Courtney’s nerves were already frayed. Maybe they’d been that way since August. They’d definitely been that way since Bianca had shown up. 

“It was a dumb joke, I’m sorry-”

“Let’s just,” Courtney took another breath. She’d already lost her shit, so she might as well figure out how to reel it back in. “I can…I can deal with the rest of the mess later, let’s just leave it.” 

Bianca turned towards her. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I think…the longer we wait, the more…awkward it’ll get,” Courtney said, biting her lip. She looked over at the coffee maker, which had thankfully finished brewing, and moved towards it, filling the carafe, letting the hot liquid crackle over the ice. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Bianca wiped her hands on a dish towel, her movements careful and unsure. 

“I’m just fixing some iced coffee, because I figured-”

“Bless you.”

“-that we could use it,” she finished, as they exchanged a tense smile, before continuing, “Can you grab that tray?” 

“Of course.” Bianca picked up the tray and followed her outside, back to the patio. 

The fresh air would do both of them good; Courtney could sure use it herself. She poured glasses of iced coffee for both of them as Bianca unloaded the plates from the tray and opened the little tin.

“Those are just some biscotti I made last weekend,” Courtney said.  

“Last weekend? Well, fuck that. I demand fresh biscotti, immediately,” Bianca said. Her voice was as drily sarcastic as ever, but her eyes…somehow, it seemed like she was begging Courtney to please take the joke.  

Courtney rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her smile as she pulled the tray over to her own seat. She sat down and slipped on her reading glasses, opening up her notebook and iPad, making sure all her calendars were visible. She flipped to the page with the dates of all the requested visits that she’d sent to Bianca, along with the notes she’d made about possible alternate dates. 

“Okay, I'm glad we’re finally doing this. It’s much easier in person,” she said. When she looked up, Bianca was staring at her with a confused expression. 

“Sorry, doing…?”

“Going over the dates. For visitation. That’s what we’re doing, right?” Courtney asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, I…I mean…” Bianca’s confusion turned to discomfort as she twisted a napkin in her hands. She cleared her throat. 

“You are prepared to go over the dates for our visitation schedule, right?” Courtney asked, trying her best to keep the frustration out of her voice. She’d snapped earlier, and she knew needed to keep control of herself, for both their sakes, “What we’ve been promising the kids since this summer? What I’ve emailed you about at least five times since August?” 

“I, um…sort of had another thing to discuss with you before we-”

“Jesus christ, Bianca!” Courtney exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She couldn’t even look at her right now.  

“I just, I didn’t think that was the first-”

Courtney sighed, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. When she looked back at Bianca, she could see that she was incredibly distressed, almost panicked—face pale, taking short, shallow breaths, eyes glassy, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. It gave her pause, so she took a deep breath, attempting to temper her initial reaction and back off. 

She spoke as gently as possible, given the circumstances, asking, “So then what…if that’s not what you were planning to discuss, then what did you…want to talk about? 

“I…” Bianca took a slow breath and then said, “Well…I mean, it’s been almost a month. I just, first, I wanted to see how you were doing. Are you…are you okay? I mean, how are you?” She closed her eyes briefly, as if to reset. “Sorry, I just mean-”

“I’m okay,” Courtney said, putting her out of her misery. No use making this more painful than it had to be. “I’ve had better months, but…I’ve had worse months, so…I’ll be okay.” 

Bianca nodded, lips pressed together. 

“What about you?” Courtney asked. “Are you?…Okay, that is?” 

“I’m...uh...September’s always kind of…” Bianca shook her head, giving a kind of rueful smile. 

“Right.” Courtney fought an urge to reach for her hand, instead saying, “Well, your show was great. As usual.” 

“You saw it?” Bianca asked, sitting up a little straighter, eyes brightening. She seemed shocked, which surprised Courtney. 

“Of course,” she assured her. “We never miss it. Danny and I, we always watch the live feed. Now it’s a tradition.” 

“And…you liked it?” Bianca asked. Normally Courtney would assume she was just fishing for compliments if she asked something like that, but she seemed strangely vulnerable, both hands still clutching the napkin for dear life.

“Spectacular,” Coutney told her, offering a real smile. “Honestly.” 

Bianca looked down at her hands for a moment, then spoke again, almost shyly, to say, “I, um…I saved you a dress.” 

“Shut up, you did not,” Courtney said. It was possible that Bianca was just kidding around, of course, but she seemed to be serious. How thrilling would it be if she was? “Did you really?” Off Bianca’s decisive nod, she asked, “Which one?”

A coy smile pulled slightly at the corner of Bianca’s lips. “Which one would you have wanted?” 

“I mean, all of them! Are you kidding?” Courtney said. “I’d be honored to wear any of them.” 

“Okay, but…anything you liked more than the others? That really spoke to you?” There was a glimmer in her eye, a spark of her usual mischievousness back, and in spite of herself, Courtney felt it doing something to her, waking up that part of herself that could never resist. 

“Well…I suppose there was one that-” 

“Aha!” Bianca’s eyes lit up. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll pull up a photo of the dress I saved, and you describe the one you’re thinking of. And if it’s the same one, great. And if it’s not…then, you can still have the one I picked, and I’ll make you a replica of the one you liked more. Win-win.” 

Courtney narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” 

“No catch! I’m just trying to be nice, for once.” Bianca grinned, flashing her dimples, her voice cajoling, “Come on…”

“Okay, fine, fine...” 

Bianca laughed, picking up her phone and scrolling quickly through her photos. “You’re welcome to look up a reference photo too, if you want.”

“I don’t need to.” Courtney took a sip of her iced coffee. 

“Mmm…” Bianca smiled to herself, continuing to scroll. “Got it.”

She placed her phone face down and then folded her hands, looking into Courtney’s eyes and gesturing for her to proceed. Courtney hated to admit how easily she was going along for the ride, but here she was, obeying without another thought. 

“Okay. So, it wasn’t your big show-stopping finale dress or anything. Although I did love that one,” Courtney began, remembering more and more about the dress as she spoke, the way a dream unfurls in your memory the more you talk about it. “It wasn’t even a style I wear that often. It was a cocktail dress, kind of classic Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly style silhouette, off the shoulder, cap sleeves. A tea-length skirt made of layers of hand-painted, sheer fabric. The way it moved was absolutely breathtaking. Then there was a beaded bodice that was so beautiful, so intricate, these swirling blues and yellows with some touches of black and gold around a crescent moon. The colors reminded me of Van Gough’s ‘Starry Night.’ And I’ve always just loved that painting so much…”  

As Courtney’s description trailed off, Bianca flipped over her phone and slid it over, her face dominated by a smug grin. It only took the briefest glance to see that she’d been describing the dress on the screen. 

“No way...” Had she really zeroed in on the exact dress Bianca selected for her? That seemed like an insane coincidence. 

“You think I could ever forget how you went on and on about that painting the time we saw that documentary at The Hammer? And how you wouldn’t stop saying ‘Van Goghhh.’” Bianca exaggerated the Dutch ‘gh’ sound as if she was hacking up a hairball. 

“That’s the correct way to pronounce his name,” Courtney laughed, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Whatever, you sounded pretentious as hell,” Bianca said, grinning. “So…yeah. Of course you have to have that dress.” 

Courtney picked up the phone to look closer, noticing some detailing that she’d missed before, when it was in motion on the runway. 

“Is there embroidery on the skirt?” she marveled. 

“Yeah, on the top layer,” Bianca said. 

“It’s incredible…” Courtney said, zooming in even more to examine the stunning, intricate work. 

“Thanks. Not sure how Van Gogh would feel about the AB stones, but I like to think he’d be cool with the embroidery.” 

“Definitely. I can’t believe I’m going to be seeing it in person,” Courtney said. “Although I’m not sure when I would possibly have an opportunity to wear a dress like this.” 

“I don’t know…the Met Gala?” Bianca suggested.

“You think I get invited to the Met Gala?!” Courtney exclaimed, laughing. Bianca obviously had a very warped impression of what her life was like. 

“Okay, the Oscars then,” Bianca said. 

“Guess again.” 

“Emmys?” 

“Nope.” Courtney shook her head once more. 

“Come on! Creative Arts Emmys. For sure,” she insisted. “You’ve won those.” 

Courtney was a little surprised that Bianca even knew that—probably because the kids had told her, or some news item she’d read in passing. She didn’t linger on thoughts about it though, instead explaining, “That’s a day event. This isn’t a daytime dress.” 

“Hmmm…alright, what about Trader Joe’s, next time you’re buying quinoa?” Bianca asked, then held up her hand. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot, you’re rich now. I obviously meant Whole Foods.” 

“You think I can afford the mortgage, property taxes, and Whole Foods? I have money, but not Oprah money,” Courtney said, winking. 

Bianca laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, Trader Joe’s it is. Costco, if you really wanna save.”

“Ooh, the valley? Dirty.”  

Bianca laughed, her dimples deep in her cheeks, brown eyes shining, and Courtney realized she’d been totally charmed, despite her best efforts to the contrary. 

She lowered her eyes demurely and swiped through a few more pictures. “You know, I’m a little disappointed,” she said, “Because I really thought I was gonna get two dresses out of this deal.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, I mean, this blue one with the open back…” she held up the phone, sighing wistfully, lashes fluttering.

“Tell you what,” Bianca said, still grinning. “I’ll talk to the designer for you.” 

“Tell her I’m a big fan,” Courtney teased, sliding the phone back towards Bianca. 

“Will do,” Bianca chuckled, giving her a wink.  

Courtney giggled along, but her smile faltered a little when she caught sight of her notebook, lying on the table. “So, um…I assume that isn’t the real reason you wanted to talk.” She gestured to Bianca’s phone. 

“No.”

Bianca’s laughter faded as she picked it up, slipping it into the inside pocket of her blazer. She was probably hot in that thing. There was a long, awkward pause, as she cleared her throat, looking deeply uncomfortable. 

Courtney folded her hands, waiting, trying not to rush her. She obviously had something to say, and needed to work up to it. It wasn’t like her to be nervous, or to have a hard time speaking her mind, so this was surely something difficult. 

“Okay…” she finally began. “I guess…I should start with an apology…"

[handelplayssims]

Reaper's Rewards - Week 6, Part 1

...I can’t stay away. Not when there’s a task list dangling in front of me when I pop into other files. Did skip ahead to the next day with the Goth family though. We’ve been replaying that Friday too many days! Bella worked and had a munch out by herself. Alex continued with talking to plants and I sorted out the researching ambrosia on another file. TO THE NEXT DAY. But first!

Neighborhood Watch!

San Myshuno: The Zeigler household moved out.

Oasis Springs: The Fujita household recently moved in.

SAVE. Might want to remember to do that this each day. Also we got a slumber party scheduled this day.

...really good idea I saved because hey, game crashed as I was trying to get Alexander to cook.

...aaaand all goals reset. At least I can research ambrosia. Game is buggy! Plants also didn’t grow. -grumble- Orchid first day and then NEVER AGAIN.

Right so once again, I am back to delaying until my pomegrante plant can grow and I get an Orchid. Or else cheat. Feeling and feeling more like cheating as time goes on but give it an in-game week, give it an in-game week. Right so, another slumber party at 7PM. Time to delay until then.

Hmmm. Alexander wants to plant things but we really don’t have the space around this place anymore to do that. Well, unless I want to tear down even more of the pre-made bush and greenery but eh. Let’s see. There is a little garden plot nearby I wonder what plants are in bloom. A pear and oh! Some roses! That would actually work real well with the gardening stuff around those bushes. Let’s get some. Next time also, gather up some lilies and plant them. It would be a good idea to have a few of those around the park as well.

Geoffrey needs to advise someone for his aspiration. Let’s go with Sione Hoapili and...he’s a klepto. We’re going to head off to the park. Successfully advised. Now I don’t have much more to do with Geoffrey. I’m having Alexander research the plants in a planter box and Venus play on the pirate ship. Oh! Garden Gnomes are here! Might as well have Alexander say hi to Moria and join up! It is the gardening + fishing club and what has Alexander been super into lately into that!

Also Geoffrey met Hector Laurent. Turns out, Hector is cheerful, family-oriented, and outgoing. A perfect new friend for Geoffrey and for Bella! Might as well say, “go say hello to my wife!” for that social thing. Let’s see, all three have done enough for their park business. Let’s head home!

...oh snap. We have prom and we asked Alexander’s date out to prom. Weeeeeelp. That’s gonna be bad. Shame I can’t send him to prom off-screen. RIP Prom but you happen every week. It’s time for slumber party!

Chatter is easy enough, let’s have some Sims play a party game. It’s time for Don’t Wake the Llama! Jenga is a pretty good party game, all things considered. Set-up be murder though.

Hmm. All we have is cookies. The cookies are from a previous part and- CUPCAKES! Hell yeah cupcake time. Thank you, cupcakes being free from the cupcake maker!

Hmm, after doing some other things, the sleeping bags were moderately set up. But alas, not everyone was alseep on them. Ah well. This is a haunted house after all. Some would take interest in the ghosties and the butlers.

...and some like Besty, just want to beeline for the tv and wake everyone up! GO TO SLEEP TINY CHILD!

Party isn’t done but it’s time for-!

Neighborhood Watch!

Glimmerbrook: The Cynthia and Ammy household recently moved out.

Dang, no revisiting them at some point.

Windenburg: The Guzman household moved out.

Cherry tree is in full bloom! Let’s graft an apple shoot onto it. And thus, we shall get a spliced pomegranate tree! ...don’t need it but I’d rather not hold onto this spliced plant forever.

...Besty, I don’t trust you heading to the living room! Bella! Run interference! Have her play a game with you! Gold party completed! Next we’ll do the playtime captian for Venus. Should be easy enough since I am more than enough skilled for it. ...though we’re going to need to stick to being in a playful moodlet. That’ll be fun.

Alright, at 10:30, all the kids have finally left the party! It’s time for Bella and Geoffrey to have a museum date! Been ignoring Bella’s aspiration for too long so it’s her turn for the social events. Man, I do want Lovestruck. I am sick and tired of base game dates and want something different and fresh! But that’s another time. Anyway, flirtatious actions and paintings have been viewed! Man, I need to go more museums in real life. It’s so much more fun than doing it in the Sims.

Let’s see, date’s done, let’s have Geoffrey advise on friends and- oh man the artist club is here. Unfortunately, all of the artist club is famous painters and artists so I can’t just say hello! Fan hanging around it is then.

...ooh! And Geoffrey got a random phone call asking for advice so he’s one away from finishing this apriation! Let’s talk to someone and give advice! Ohp, several of the artists managed to say hello as well, including local artist Alice Kim-Spencer! Let’s have her say hello to Bella ...OH IT’S 20 INSTEAD OF 10. Makes sense. This is supposed to last for awhile.

Ooooh, we got the materalistic pop up for Geoffrey. Probably for looking at all that expensive art! ...also nah. Geoffrey is a nice guy who doesn’t care about things! Despite the fact he’s surrounded by things and married into wealth twice over. HMMMMMMM. Mmmmm, still will go with nah. Well Bella needs to go piss and she’s closer to the library and gym than the museum. Let’s go have her work out.

….annnd the death flower thing vanished again. BLARGH. I’m just going to assume it’s travelling to too many lots or something. Ah well. I’ll return home, save, then quit. Been too long anyway. Ohp, local gym trainer said hello, might as well nab a donation from Cooper as we take his training. He’s a lactose intolerant active dance machine. Sounds like a fun guy!

Alright, food and then bed for everyone!

...DANG! One lily from my spliced flowering plant! -angry grumbles even more- Well let’s take a break for today and leave with-

Neighborhood Watch!

Nothing of note has happened recently. Check back tomorrow.

[terbearcollectibles]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Golden Girls Rushmore Chia Pet Decorative Planter.

[forestryfae]

god this sucks. like im glad i can finally get rid of all this stuff but tidying is mostly just hard because i have a lot of stuff to put away and not enough space or boxes for it and i just sort of dont know where to put the stuff im done with at.

decisions arent too hard its more difficult when i dont know if i wanna keep stuff or not and i keep going back and forth on it. like yeah sure i Like the thing but do i want to keep it just for that reason? does it have any function beyond looking nice? does it make hobbies or housekeeping easier? i do i really wanna carry it around when i move? where do i put it when i dont use it? can i live without it? do i think ill find stuff i like better than this? is it sentimental and does it evoke any good memories at all or do i get sad looking at it and feel guilty getting rid of it? would i notice i dont own it anymore? did i even remember i had it?

its worse w furniture cus i cant just move or pile stuff up as easily. theres also not much i want to bring. red couch, two identical funky dressers, a desk, a planter, and other than that i have nothing in particular i want. maybe the tv stand, a shelf on wheels and an office chair too but honestly idfk. i havent really used those in a while so do i really wanna bribg them when i dont even know what ill use them for?? i def DO wanna bring my coffee table its v nice and grandpa made it but its rly big

ill need some new stuff, like a bed so i dont have to sleep in the one ive had since i was 12, and a dresser for clothes, a closet for other junk, and ideally a different tv stand with space for my art supples and some dvds and books, and a nightstand. thats about it. so theres just a lot to consider