#acr strikes again

[iolesims]

It looks like romance sparked between Willa and Prem instead!

[eulaliasims]

Theodore has been promoted at the lab to Soil Identifier. Sounds like something that he'd be interested in.

Theodore: Technically, I also function as a soil identifier, since I have a small suite of chemical analysis tools built-in.

Clove wandered in unprompted around ten to watch TV.

Theodore: You are welcome to watch your show here, but we were planning to go to bed.

Chiana: Theo!

Clove: But you do not sleep—ohhhhh. Wow, I wish I could wink right now!

[dedicated-to-all]

So, Cassandra and Darren are married and have 3 kids currently. Their older half-brother is Dirk, from Darren's first marriage. I have the clean template (Bella is younger and present in Pleasantview) with ACR and story progression. After college, Dirk and Bella started flirting while visiting, sometimes even right in front of Mortimer who was too busy playing with his grandchildren to notice. Mortimer died of old age and everyone was sad. For a while, I thought the whole Dirk and step-grandmother romance was over. Until I got this pop-up.

Bella is currently pregnant with his child. Imagine being Cassandra, your stepson has married your mom and you as an adult are getting a baby half-sibling while your oldest child is already a teen.

Sims are wild y'all.

[polappi-draws]

Messy sketch dump, I’ve been playing with colors a lot more recently

[calikiwisims]

[beaversatemygrandma]

Look who's coming out of her shell~

Rosie has already learned how to stay very well. We've learned she's just straight up scared of moving cars (I mean, fair, considering how she was picked up.), and is reactive to little dogs barking at her. Earlier the neighbor's little thing (literally a mangy maltese mix) ran up to her barking (this is normal. she's ALWAYS loose) and she started barking back, hackles up, growling, everything. So instead of waiting for the neighbor to scoop her little thing like I did with Tabby (bc Tabby didn't give two shits) I scooped my little thing. I was standing there with my bf attempting to block a tiny dog with this big catahoula puppy under my arm like a toy poodle. (bf for size comparison there) It takes the neighbor a minute, but she comes up, saying sorry about her little dog again (which honestly she should just get a lead for) and scoops her up. Rosie is taking a bit. She's so nervous. She's now good with the bf's niece, who's like 4. We stopped downstairs while his mom was watching her after that walk and I kept Rosie close, worried about her nervousness, and this kid walked Right Up. Told her to come, sit, and lay down. Rosie, who tends to not lay down until the 4th time I say it, did all of it. Immediately. The niece goes up to bf's mom, asks for treats, and just gives Rosie a handful and I'm just sitting there in shock. Mom was too. She never does that. That was weird. Just a few days ago we were scared Rosie would bite the kid. But nope. That happened.

She's being such a good girl.

[grabattheseballsss]

141 and their captain’s assistant

- it all started with a comment made by Laswell, she mentioned to John how tired he seems, how his eye bags are growing heavier each day passing

- she recommended him to get an assistant, John declined the offer and tried to get back to work, but laswell already made the call, she knew how annoying John can be when it comes to getting help

- then enters a pretty little thing, your hair in a messy bun, glasses neatly resting on your pretty face, short pencil skirt hugging your curves perfectly

- John couldn’t help himself from staring, gawking at you like some horny teenager

- the boys began seeing you scurrying around the base more often, the first to approach you was Johnny of course

- his deep voice partnered with his thick Scottish accent made you subconsciously bite your lip, staring up at him with your big doe eyes, you don’t even mean to, it’s just that more than half of the people in here were 6feet+

- Johnny’s flirtatious nature made you giggle, lightened up your day, but not your boss’

- every time the Scott decided to drop by your desk to accompany you, he’d get scolded by his captain

- “don’t need you distracting her from her job”

- “it’s her break, cap, plus, she’ a good lass, I’m sure she’s on top of…all her work” the scott would throw you a wink before his captain orders him to run laps around the base

- next came gaz, since he’s always visiting his captain’s office for reports, he saw you at the new desk in the captain’s office, the aura around you not matching anything in the dim, old and boring office, you gave him a slight smile before returning to your paperwork

- but gaz wasn’t going to let that be the end of your interactions no no

- he’d walk up to you in the mess hall, as you’re loading your plate up, striking a conversation with you, making last long enough for him to lead you to a table with his other teammates

- you shyly but politely sit down and introduce yourself to the masked man who sat opposite of you, his brown eyes staring into yours as his arms stayed locked, he just nodded and replied “ghost”

- you figured he’s not a social one, the Scot and the Brit both kept asking you questions, some may have been a bit intrusive but maybe they’re just being friendly !

- “so why ar’ ye here?”

“Kate laswell requested that I work for John price for a few months to ease the paperwork load on him”

- “I’m sure there’s a different kind of load he’s trying to get you to ease off of him”

- the three of your heads snap to the silent man, his brown eyes seemed to be crinkled, suggesting he was grinning or smirking underneath that mask

- “OI! LT’s got jokes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it” Johnny tried to reassure you, glaring at Simon as you looked down at your food

- you excused yourself as you made your way back to price’s office, you saw him still there, no signs of him moving at all “captain ? Did you eat today?” You asked sweetly

- oh what this man wouldn’t give to have the honours of eating you for every meal of the day, to have you sprawled on his desk, papers sticking to your sweaty skin, your chest rising and falling as you try to quiet yourself so nobody hears what your captain is doing to you

- “captain” fuck he’d love to hear you moan his rank, begging him to be gentle, but he knows deep down you’re a dirty girl and you want your “captain ?!”

- John snapped out of his daydream, he looked up at you, you were leaning to the side trying to check on him “have you eaten today?” You asked again, a worried look in your eyes

- John nods, not looking you in the eyes “yeah yeah” he cleared his throat as he tried to get back to work, but your soft, smaller hand stopped him from grabbing his pen, his brown eyes looked up, ab eyebrow raised as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’

- “I’m sorry, captain but I can’t allow you to get back to work if you haven’t had food” you stated, your body trembling as you stood your ground

- truthfully, price can easily launch you across the room with one arm, he knows his limits, and you’re nowhere near it, but you were right, he does need to eat, and although he wishes he could order you to spread your pretty thighs for him and let him have his fun, he doesn’t want to lose such a pretty sight so fast

- he let go of the pen, leaning back on his office chair “I haven’t brought any food”

“The mess hall still have some food there”

- “I don’t eat that rubbish”

“Well too bad, you need to eat”

- ooh… I guess his little kitty got claws now

[sweetmariihs2]

✨️My Undertale Headcanons✨️

When they came out of the underground, most/all of the characters live next to eachother like a neighborhood. Mettaton has a big mansion and it's a little far from the rest of them, but it's still close enough to be part of it. He helped to afford a new "Blook Acres" for his cousins, Dummy, Napstablook and Mad Mew Mew (Shyren and her sister live next to them). Sans and Papyrus made their home exactly how it was when they were in the underground. Toriel, Frisk, Asgore and Flowey's house are right next to theirs. Alphys and Undyne live together and it's right next to Sans and Papyrus' house. Muffet and the other spiders have a Bakery and Grillby has a bar/restaurant.

Some of the monsters stayed in the underground. It's very silent there now that almost everyone is gone, that's one of the reasons why some monsters stayed — because of the silence. It's a bit depressing sometimes thinking about how that place is now so empty when there were so much people and happiness everywhere. Now it's just the snow and empty houses in Snowdin, waterfalls and water drops in Waterfall, and the sound of lava and the core in Hotland. MTT's resort is also closed. Monster's history is still preserved there, so some humans go to the underground to learn about history.

Mettaton loves chick flicks and that's how his love for the humans started. He found some of them at the dump, they came from different decades and not all of his collection is about romance, he once found DVDs about talk shows and quiz shows, also black n white movies from the golden age of hollywood. He didn't know the name of most of the actors or where those movies came from, except that they came from the surface. He knew at that moment that he wanted to be like them. He also found some CD's and even not knowing them so well, he absolutely loves pop singers like Lady Gaga, Beyoncé. He just never had enough information to know about their other albums or their personal lives. That was too far from his reality. Now that all the monsters are outside, he really wants do befriend them and it's a big fan of Rupaul's Drag Race. He would love to be on that show. Mettaton now has a lot of human fans now too. He loves to post things on social media, having thousands of followers in each one of them. He also has two or more shows in a human TV channel, maybe even his own MTT channel.

Mad Mew Mew ABSOLUTELY LOVES Babymetal. The RAGE mixed to that japanese kind of cuteness. IT'S PERFECT!!! Her favorite song is Doki Doki Morning (She likes meowing during the "mew mew mew" part and when the metal finnaly strikes it's just RAGEEEEE but then the song is cute again and she's all "mew mew mew :33333"). She listens to Babymetal alongside Alphys and Frisk. Now she's an otaku too just because of Alphys. They are friends. Mew Mew still has a little crush on Undyne, but it's not like she wants to date her anymore.

Alphys dances to Babymetal alongside Frisk and Mew Mew. They live in good terms and Alphys let them have the doll because she's more happy with it than Alphys was for just having that doll. She has a little crush on Mad Mew Mew by the way, because it's a living version of her anime waifu. They became good friends and Alphys watched Mew Mew Kissy Cutie with her so that she could understand the lore, because of her Mad Mew Mew is now also otaku. Alphys loves Saylor Moon, Pretty Cure franchise, Candy Love and other kinds of anime. She likes to read yaoi and yuri sometimes.

Papyrus turned out to be a big fan of Iron Maiden. Sans sometimes listen to their songs with him and both skip the songs that talk more about violence because Papyrus don't like it much. What is funny to Sans is that Papyrus' timbre perfectly matches the musical notes of the band's vocalists (especially Bruce Dickinson, who, let's face it, is everyone's favorite) and because of this it is more comfortable and free for him to sing all the notes. His favorite song is CLEARLY Alexander The Great, for obvious reasons. Sans' and Papyrus' favorite album is Somewhere in Time. Sans relates a little to the lyrics of "Deja Vu", but Papyrus likes the band a lot more than him. Undyne likes Iron Maiden too and sometimes sings them on karaoke with Papyrus, both acting and making heroic poses while they sing. Flowey enjoys it too but his kind of metal is a little heavier.

So cute

Sans reminds me of Porco Rosso. It's not a headcanon I just wanted to tell you guys. Their personality is very similar and that's how I see Sans' character.

Sans likes to listen to Iron Maiden with Papyrus but also enjoy some calmer songs. I'm not sure who is his favorite artist, but I think that he would listen a little bit to Lana Del Rey. Especially her latest albums. He really likes the instrumental ending in "If You Lie Down With Me". He knows that some people consider her too "girly" for him to listen, but he really doesn't mind, it's good music after all. He likes calm songs with good instrumental and good lyrics.

Flowey starts living with the other monsters too, like in the "flower pot au". Most of his 'friends' know that he's prince Asriel, but he asked them to call him Flowey, even Toriel and Asgore. When worried, sad or having a deep conversation, sometimes Toriel or Asgore call him "Asriel", mostly Toriel. This makes him very emotional. He's also learning how to develop emotions again and it's being hard. Flowey discovered that listening to metal can calm his nerves, letting it all out. It's very funny to watch a little flower headbanging to a death metal song. He also enjoys singing guttural and he feels better after doing it so. It's like he can express his angry side without harming anyone in the process (Frisk is teaching him how to do it).

Asgore and Toriel are getting well together. They are becoming friends again, even flirting sometimes. Both of them talked about how they felt after those events in the underground and explained their point of view, finally ending that stupid distance. Asgore feels guilty for what he did, and Toriel understands that he had to do it because he thought it was the only option. They've been recovering from the greif of their children and everything seems to be better now. Being eachother's bestfriend again really helps a lot dealing with the guilt. They understand that they had to go and it wasn't their fault.

Frisk is a big AURORA fan due to her pacifist songs. They feel like her songs give them the energy to keep being a good person, caring for other people and helping the world. Papyrus enjoys some of her songs too because Frisk explained to him what the lyrics meant. Frisk tells Flowey that "Churchyard" makes them think of him (he understands why but gets grumpy because of it)(and it also makes them think of Sans, but they never told him because these are memories from other save). Some of their favorite songs are Animal, A Different Kind Of Human, Apple Tree, All Is Soft Inside, Soft Universe, It Happened Quiet. Toriel pretends that doesn't relate to the lyrics of Midas Touch to avoid explanation (she heard Frisk listening to it one time and paid attention to the lyrics, so that's how that happened).

Asgore and Toriel enjoy some calmer songs too. Sans is one of Toriel's best friends, and one day he came to their house and Toriel asked him to put any song he likes. He choosed "Let The Light In", which is another one from Lana that he listens to, and that's how Toriel started listening to her too. Again, only her latest albums (they feel that her older albums are too sad). Because of them Asgore also started to listen to her songs. They like to make "tea parties" for their friends while Toriel brings her butterscotch pie and Asgore makes the tea, hearing those songs playing in the background. It brings such a cozy feeling.

And then the karaoke moment starts and Papyrus and Undyne are screaming on the microphone. Mettaton likes to sing too (sometimes with Shyren), Napstablook controls the audio. Asgore tries, but he knows he's not the best at singing. Mad Mew Mew wants to sing Babymetal, Alphys really wants to sing with her but she's too embarassed to do it so Undyne helps sometimes and encourages her. Frisk dances with them because they're not really into singing. Sans is too lazy to sing and he says that he's not the best at it.

I wanna add more headcanons to this list. Gonna keep updating when thinking about new ones!

[nextstopparis]

i really just need good like mid to long length fix recs please i’m begging

hey bestie, i didnt know if you had any specific type of fic in mind or just length and what u consider mid so here are a few fics with 25k+ word counts and thats basically all they have in common🫶 also these are all more or less merthur im so sorry. i hope u find something new here!!!

Arthur, Sincerely by MerlinLikeTheBird (47.8k) (THE FLUFF IN THIS MADE ME CRY also its canon era)

To Begin Anew (need ao3 acc) by ohHeyThereBigBadWolf (27.7k) (ive read this like five times. i think about it constantly. canon divergence)

that lightning-strike feel by TheLurkingContessa (32.5k) (cmon merthur training with weapons together??? also canon era)

An Illusion of Sorts by lordvoldemortsnipple (133.7k) (ive also read this like 3 times which is sorta insane bc its 100k+ words omfg… modern au w magic)

Annum Inanis (The Empty Year) (need ao3 acc) by anonymintea (43.2k) (i DIED. canon era)

Charting Stars On A Stained Glass Ceiling by mornmeril (80k) (my note on ao3 under this is just OHMYGOD a bunch of times so. future au with magic)

a thimble of light for an acre of sky by celaenos (36.2k) (THIS IS NOT MERTHUR well theres like a hint of merthur at the very end but mostly its pendragon siblings and morgwen. I DIED. canon divergence)

Chasing Spring (ok TECHNICALLY this is a series but overall its 58.7k words so) by Gimli_s_Pickaxe (god merlin au do i really need to say anything else. canon era)

Keep the Magic Secret (73.5k) (i feel like i cant say I DIED again or else it’ll start losing its meaning to you but really i did. canon era)

M-RYS by mornmeril (123.2k) (ive also read this three times and was actually just craving a reread yesterday so. hmm. future au with magic)

We Pull These Jobs To Make A Little Money (No One Gets Hurt If They Don’t Act Funny) by leashy_bebes (48.9k) (this fic left me speechless all i could muster in my ao3 notes was “oh my god” not even capitalized like it shook me to my core. modern au)

You’ve Got My Heart, I’ve Got Your Hand by FervidAsAFlame (29.3k) (ive read this about five times it makrs me cry its so sweet i Love Them. modern au)

The Tournament of All Magicks by Cori Lannam (corilannam) (41.3k) (CMONNNN merlin fighting in a TOURNAMENT??? cmon. ohh craving a reread for this one too now… canon era)

The Future Soon by lady_ragnell (30.2k) (i loved this fic so so much. like theres just something about the vibe of it that im obsessed with. could also be the enemies to lovers thing. modern au with magic)

Sweeter Dreams by Tierfal (35.3k) (FREED VIVIAN OF MEN! i mean what more could i want. canon divergence)

Truth Is a Whisper by seperis (25k) (im being so serious go read everything by seperis. everything. GO. FIRST TINTAGEL bc that is my fav fic of all time probably but its 20k words so i couldnt put it here. GO!! theyre my fav author it took EVERYTHING not to rec all their fics. canon divergence)

Accidental Memory in the Case of Death by derryere (74.9k) (theres just something so. So. I DONT KNOW. overwhelming about them in this. its reincarnation au which might be why. one line made me cry)

The Ivy Crown by dayari (derryday) (252.2k) (ive read this three times. look at the word count. i will probably read it again. green knight au thing. theyre just. ohmygod)

Dower the Stars by RurouniHime (40.6k) (LISTEN. actually idek what i can say about this. except for the fact that its the PERFECT FIC. literally. its perfect. im especially in love with arthur and gwens friendship in this but anyway. canon divergence.)

[emyn-arnens]

A Sea-change

Tar-Míriel & Uinen | G | ~900 words | AO3

Mercy. Salvation. Míriel’s footsteps pound to the beat of her heart. Mercy. Salvation.

She is the rightful queen of Númenor. She is Faithful. She will not die like the accursed who gathered at the Temple of Melkor like flies to a carcass.

She must reach the flaming peak of Meneltarma, that the Valar might see her, know her to be Faithful, and save her.

She cannot look behind her. If she does, her heart will surely quail and her footsteps falter.

She looks despite herself. The wave rises in a green wall above Elenna. The blackened dome of the Temple of Melkor splinters beneath the weight of the water, cracks with a roar like an explosion of glass, and the sea purges the temple of its filth. The temple falls into the heart of the sea, marked only by the steam rising from where it stood.

She turns. The path climbs steeply ahead of her. She has so far to go.

The wind buffets her. Míriel falls, strikes her face hard against the earth as her ankle twists in a ring of searing fire. She tastes blood, spits it out. Rain streams in her eyes, and she scrubs a hand across her face, rubbing grit into her eyes. She screams—in fear, in helpless anger—but her voice is lost to the wind.

She scrambles upright, staggers, and limps forward. The peak is too far, her ankle alight with fire.

Still she runs, tearing blindly at her skirts until scraps of fabric hang in tatters about her waist. Her feet, slick with rain and blood, slap wetly against the path. Mercy. Salvation.

Her breath is fire in her lungs, and a cramp stabs her side. Water swirls about her ankles and tugs at the hem of her shift, pulling her back. This, too, she tears off, and it floats away from her, ghostly in the dark water.

The mountain shudders beneath her feet, throwing her stumbling into its side, and she scrabbles at the side of the cliff for purchase, lunges forward. Mercy. Salvation.

The ground rolls again, and Míriel falls to her knees, crying out in fear and supplication. Know me, I am Tar-Míriel, faithful and rightful queen of this land! But her cries are lost in the roar of the vengeful sea, her voice stolen by the wind and scattered over acres of rolling waves that hungrily swallow her words.

The water sweeps beneath her, lifts her up and carries her to where the peak of Meneltarma burns with divine fire, a beacon blazing furiously in the midst of the thrashing waves. Before her eyes close against the stinging waves, she catches sight of the sky, night-dark and lashed with lightning, and knows that no mercy has been reserved for her.

Water fills her mouth, her lungs in a burning rush. She cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot thrash against the unyielding grip of the water. Her limbs loosen and her body sags in the water, giving in to the furor of the waves. The embrace of the sea is a fierce shove and a tender caress, sterner and gentler than anything Míriel has known in life. 

With the clarity of the dying, she remembers suddenly every prayer she whispered to Uinen, huddled at the edge of the sea, murmuring penitent prayers for the misdeeds of her husband and her people as the waves lapped at her feet. The words well in her again, unspoken.

Darkness seeps beneath her eyelids like ink, and she welcomes it, falls into it. The waves brush her brow in the tenderest touch she has ever felt, and she knows no more.

Míriel sinks, a glimmering jewel falling into darkness.

She is dead, and she is not. Her body is no more. Where once she had arms, fingers, legs, and feet, she is now no more than seafoam, a stirring of the current, a tide propelling the waves. She is formless, voiceless but sees clearly and keenly through the green water that swirls about her.

A flash of gold catches her gaze. Ships of sable and gold sink slowly, their sails billowing to slow their fall. Men fall from their decks, their arms spread wide. Their armor glints dimly in the darkening water. In the center of the wreckage sinks the mightiest ship of them all, a floating castle, huge and many-masted, with many banners of sable and gold rippling from its masts.

Míriel draws closer. The king who boarded the ship in foolish, vain pride is gone, trapped beneath the hills in ceaseless torment. But his men remain aboard—his men who followed every order he uttered, who knelt in worship to Melkor, who gathered the Faithful and slew them on the altar of the temple, who stained Elenna with every drop of blood they spilled.

The sea churns, and the falling ships shudder. With voiceless laughter, Míriel seizes fore and aft of the Alcarondas and folds the ship in half until its timbers burst and its masts tangle and break and its banners flutter like torn rags. 

And she draws the Castle of the Sea into the deeps.

[zaceouiswriting]

Snowy Winter Fun

Character: Male reader x Theo Raeken, Male reader and The Pack

Universe: Teen Wolf

Warnings: None, just fluff

Laughter has taken over the empty fields before me. In the distance, I can hear Christmas carols. It is all a part of a little tradition we started just the year before. It's a fun time. The whole pack and all their friends, including myself, have gathered once again at my residence on the edge of the forest on the outskirts of the town. My house overlooks several acres of land that were once agricultural soil but are now completely empty. All belongs to me as I was my grandfather's heir when he died last year.

Everyone is having fun, even Stiles, who has gotten grumpy most of the time. We've been having a snowball fight for the last hour, at least until most have become exhausted. 

For those who are too exhausted, I offer to go in and make them hot chocolate, which they, of course, accept with joy. But just as I'm about to enter my house, tragedy strikes: a dull pain on the back of my head makes me stop. Turning around, I look at everyone standing still. Just as surprised as me. If it weren't for the grin on his stupid face, I would have never known that Liam had thrown the piece of frozen water at me. 

“You little shit!” I mutter under my breath, quite angry but with a crooked grin.

Without saying anything else, my red Alpha eyes lit up, signaling the little Beta that he was going too far this time. Even from a distance, I could see him swallowing anxiously. Since his Alpha wasn't there, as he wasn't welcome on my property, he must be shitting his pants right now.

As I start to run, so does the little shit. The snow makes it almost impossible to use my supernatural speed. Even though I almost grabbed him, he freed himself somehow from my grip.

“Theo, get your feral boyfriend under control!” Liam shouts at my loving boyfriend.

Usually, a sharp look at him would be enough to stop him from doing anything, but this time, it seems different. Theo, for some reason, is ready to intervene.

"If you prevent me from getting this little shit," I scream loudly as I still have my gaze on Liam, but I wasn't finished yet. Gradually, I shift my attention from Liam to Theo and glare at him intently before continuing, "You will be sleeping alone for the rest of your life!"

Without another word, he throws his arms up defensively, steps back, and apologizes to Liam, “I'm sorry, little wolf, but I can’t.”

Liam looks genuinely hurt for a moment but quickly regains his composure. In an angry tone, he shouted, “You whipped idiot! You sacrifice your friend to get laid?”

“You have no idea how warm he is,” Theo tells him casually.

Liam turns his head to look at Theo, his face twisted in disgust. But he didn't slow down like I had hoped. Even though the uneven and slightly slippery ground isn't great for speed, the little shit somehow can run like there was nothing there.

Suddenly, Isaac steps into my way. In a soft voice, he asks, “Don't you think it’s enough? Liam looks terrified.”

Without uttering a word, I swiftly grab his arm, hoist him up into the air, and use my power to hurl him to the ground. Then, I step beside him and push his head into the snow.

“I hope the snow tastes good, pretty boy,” I tell him with a shit-eating grin, and I immediately run after Liam again. But out of nowhere, Brett stands in my way with his arms outstretched. Just before I can crash into him, I grab his arm and throw him away. Instead of running after Liam again, I jog towards Brett and push his head into the snow. With the same shit-eating grin, I ask him, whispering in his ear, "Was it worth trying to protect your little secret friend?"

Standing back up, I could instantly see Theo glaring at me. With my hands raised defensively, like Theo had done before, I ask him, “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Pretty boys?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, visibly annoyed.

I jog to him and smile brightly. I quickly wrap my arms around him. We stare into each other's eyes. My heart jumps several times just looking at his handsome face and beautiful eyes. 

“They’re pretty, yes,” I begin to speak but got punched by Theo in the stomach before I could continue. “Fair enough,” I murmur. Before he can hit me again, I catch his hand and whisper in his right ear, "But you're the hottest guy I've ever seen."

I can see a fire igniting in his eyes. Before he can react, I steal a quick kiss from his sinful lips, which now usually would be all over my neck to mark me.

“Not now,” I tell him, pushing him back slightly so I can quickly run away. But before I get far, I'll cast another look back. “Now I have to catch the little shit and spank some sense into him.”

Suddenly, I hear a squeak in the distance. As I follow the sound, I can see Liam standing there, fear written on his face. His loud swallowing can be heard across the empty field. This time, I react faster than he does. But he starts running only a few seconds later. Still, I'll grab him even if it's the last thing I do!

[Masterlist]

[iolesims]

A quick autonomous hook up managed to get it out of her mind. Maybe the Thobanobs were in an open relationship? She didn't ask.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Steve wants a red accent wall in their apartment and wants Bucky to pick out the shade of red. So, Bucky sets Steve up sitting against the wall, cock and balls exposed. He pulls up a spanking machine and line it up so that it’ll hit Steve’s balls square on.

He holds up a handful of red paint swatches. “The wall will be the color of your balls when you come just from having them smacked.” Steve gets a blindfold, and Bucky gets the remote control for the spanking machine.

Steve blushes real pretty whenever guests compliment their accent wall.

This has BIG "Blush Pink" by voluptuous_panic energy.

I LOVE your idea. I do! I love artist Steve, though, so my brain immediately was like, well, what if what actually happens is that Steve wants their home to look a particular way...

Steve has the eye for ✨️aesthetic✨️ He gets art. He has high. standards.

So, when he decides that their home needs an upgrade in the form of a feature wall (as is prominently boasted on many of the property renovation shows he watches as the easiest way to transform a space), Steve starts collecting swatches. He has hues of red in a near rainbow. Tints. Shades. Tones. All slightly different, so subtle that Steve and Bucky, with their enhanced vision and color vision especially, can only detect them. But, no matter what type of red Steve comes up with, asking Bucky his opinion...

Bucky looks at it for a moment, considering, before telling Steve, nah, I don't know, it's just not quite right. Something about it. Sorry, hun.

At first, Steve doesn't think too much of it. Sure, whatever, he's allowed to not like a color. Besides, it's their apartment, so the color needs to strike a balance--it needs to be every day, and it needs to be calming, not angry, but it needs to be intimate, too. Yet. Bucky is so, so suddenly particular. It's suspicious.

Slowly, it hits Steve.

Bucky has never in his life cared so much about a color before. He's complained about Steve's particular eye for color before, even. Moaning over, why can't you just settle on a couch already! C'mon, this one is fine! It's a nice color, a good blue, how does it clash with the carpet again? The neutral carpet. Huh? He's watched Steve mix colors for embarrassingly long periods of time and scoffed, Stevie, I think I just found out why you're crazy. You're spending too much fucking time chasing colors. What's wrong with what you have there? It's fine. That's great!

Why now?

What's his reasoning? What's the game he's playing?

Now, because, apparently, Bucky wants a feature wall to match the tender, swollen, and radiating heat stain that paints Steve's skin when he's stripped down by pain. His most vulnerable, when he's whimpering and gritting his teeth but still taking more--more even when the tears start to flow over and spill down his cheeks from glassy, blue eyes that reveal his perversions toward pain so salaciously. In Bucky's decided mind, the feature wall red has to match the agonizing-pleasure red of Steve's denied and tortured balls with splashes of complimentary hues. CBT carnelian red to go with... squirming embarrassed bubblegum pink, often gracing his high cheekbones, dusted down his neck and across his chest. Spanked raw watermelon pink, sprawled over the acres of normally unblemished, pale skin from his backside down his strong thighs. Sweet dusted rose pink nipples before they're bitten and teased and tugged into aching points of near-raw ruby. Even hints of face-fucked carnation red for his swollen, glistening, and used lips.

There's pieces of Steve when he's most debauched all throughout their home. Sprinkled, pieces fallen like petals from a rose, spread in anticipation for an intimate night... a night much more soft than anything Bucky and Steve would indulge in.

Still, the colors are only explicit and sensual to them; innocent and surprising to anyone else--two big, hulking men with an apartment that's a swirl of off-whites and cremes amidst pinks and reds like strawberry swirl ice cream. Sweet.

Not really.

Nothing could be less sweet than what Bucky's done, how he's incorporated Steve's pleasure into their space. It's devious.

The wall, of course--once Bucky has finally had enough swatches and taken enough photos of Steve's denied, aching balls, wearing him down to nothing but that single agonizing point of hungry flesh--is a proud red. But there's more. A scented candle or two in various pinks. Throw pillows and blankets. The abstracted art on the walls, reminiscent of sunsets and spilled rosé after a night off too much fun and side-splitting giggles. A vase sitting on the coffee table, larger, and a smaller one on the side table, holding the fresh flowers Natasha brings them when she visits.

Steve can't stand any compliment on their home with the updates. Anything and everything makes him blush like crazy because it all reminds him of the way Bucky breaks him. Especially that fucking wall, though. Jesus Christ. You wouldn't believe all that's been done to him to get those colors just so.

Torture. Exquisite torture that bleeds through him like white-hot electricity, shocking his muscles and leaving him to convulse. It's incredible. No one treats him like Bucky treats him. Bucky's rough and good and doesn't stop until Steve has forgotten his own name three times over.

Guh.

Steve's gonna stop fucking inviting people over. It's for the best anyway, with fewer people wandering in and less time spent on hosting, there will be much more time for sex on the couch, against that damn wall, or, hell, pressed to the window, maybe even shoving the coffee table out of the way to be taken on the floor, Bucky's hips hitting his ass until Steve's backside matches the throw pillows on the couch and he's painting the floor white, totally untouched and screaming. Without guests, Bucky can take him apart in their living room and ruin their nice, homey décor with suspicious stains and helpless rips and more.

[rea-grimm]

Weapon Altair

Who hasn't heard of Altair? About a powerful weapon, which, however, changed one master after another. He lasted the longest with Malik, but you haven't seen him for a long time.

Everyone in Masyaf knew Altair and everyone talked about him. Maybe it was because they demoted him to the rookie level yesterday. That was your level as well, but what could you do when you only recently joined the assassins?

You were one of the masters, people who controlled special weapons, and today was finally the day when they would assign you a weapon. That's how it was on Masyaf, and assassins with weapons were stronger than those with ordinary ones. Occasionally, rather exceptionally, it happened that a master was assigned his rightful weapon.

You climbed the stairs to Al Mualim's office, eager to find out who you would be working with. All you knew was that it would be a sword. Which narrowed down your choices, but you still had no idea who it could be.

You expected a lot, but you certainly didn't expect Altair next to the Grandmaster. Maybe your weapon will still arrive there, your mind flashed, and you tried to stay calm.

“Safety and peace be with you Master Altair,” you greeted them.

"You too," they returned your greeting. Altair just muttered something but kept his eyes on you the whole time. The younger assassin looked like he was going to leave if the master didn't stop him.

"Altair, as you well know, you deprived your original master of your hand and since you were demoted to novice, another master must be assigned to you. Altair, this is Y/N, your new master," he told him sternly. Before you could say anything, he took up the word assassin.

"You can't be serious? She's a novice!" he protested.

"So are you. Plus, Y/N has proven what she's capable of and I'm sure she's well on her way to the top," Grandmaster replied calmly. "So I've decided and I won't change my decision," he added sternly when he noticed Altair was about to object.

After the Grandmaster released you, you headed outside the fortress, to a small area out of sight of the city, where you were to fight Altair. Not with him, but against him. He wanted to see how good you were with the sword. 

He pissed you off when he added that he didn't want a master to drag him down. You had to do something not to punch him. How could he even say such a thing to you? Especially when you were now on the same level.

You were able to keep up with them in a fight and it felt like you could read his every move and avoid him. However, this was also true for him, and neither was able to strike a blow at the other.

After a few days, the Grandmaster sent you on your first mission outside the fortress. You were looking forward to it. You can finally show off all your skills. You have arrived at Acre, where you first went to the local rafiq.

You wanted to find out the necessary information first and then kill. But your weapon was of a different opinion and while you were out scouting, he took matters into his own hands. It all dawned on you when alarm bells rang through the city. You immediately ran to the switchboard to find out what happened.

Altair was already there, covered in blood and was being scolded by rafiq for his carelessness and rashness. It annoyed you too because it was your mutual mission and you wanted to help him with it too. But you didn't say anything to him when you saw how rafiq scolded him.

This is how the mission went in Damascus too. There he locked you in the base and went on a solo quest again. You had the impression that he locked you in there because you made it clear to him along the way that you would not take this mission away from him.

You didn't understand how he did it, but you thought, or hoped, that Altair would get some kind of warning from the Grandmaster. Especially with how the rafiqs were always furious with his behaviour and lack of information.

You didn't say anything about the mission to Jerusalem, where your third mission was located. You kept your own plan to yourself. If Altair wants to work solo then so be it, but he won't get rid of you that easily.

You arrived in Jerusalem in the evening and the original plan was to go to sleep as soon as you arrived at the base. You lay down on your pillows and close your eyes. But you were just pretending to be asleep.

This tactic paid off for you as very soon you heard footsteps and someone climbing out. You got up just in time to see Altair disappear from your sight. You were on your feet that moment, following him around town from a safe distance.

You followed him to the small gallows that was teeming with soldiers and where you noticed an assassin tied up on the stage. He wasn't in uniform, but you recognized him by his face. From the wall, you saw Altair sneaking through the shadows like a true assassin and striking at the right moment like a true killer.

The moment he killed the first guard and freed the captured assassin with his throwing knife, the fight began. Bells rang through the city and the assassin was at a clear disadvantage. You admired how he was able to stay calm in such numbers and cover one attack after another.

However, you were starting to like this less and less as more guards rushed up there. Altair slowly found himself trapped and threatened to be attacked from behind. You ran across the roof and jumped on a soldier who was about to stab Altair in the back.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the base?" he barked at you when he noticed you.

“Thanks would do,” you snapped as you covered his back.

You were fighting a group of soldiers, there were more and more of them, and in the confusion, you accidentally lost your sword. Or rather, they attacked you in such a style that they knocked it out of your hand. Now you only had a small dagger and a hidden blade for defence and against swords and spears it wasn't such a win.

You were starting to have trouble keeping them off your body. You fended off one as the other attacked. You lost track of where the next attack was coming from.

By the time you noticed it, it was already too late. Although you partially dodged, the sword cut you in the side. Like nothing he passed through the leather protection belt to the flesh.

You cursed in pain and drove the hidden blade into your attacker's throat. Another soldier lunged at you as something skittered through the air and you grabbed your sword. It was light and held so well that you had the impression that it was custom-made for you. 

You had the impression as if everything around you slowed down, and darkened and only the enemies remained visible. With this sword, you had a sense of completeness and were able to better focus on the soldiers and read their movements.

Before you knew it, the fight was over and you were breathing hard in the middle of a pile of bodies. However, before you could speculate how you did it, you heard a scream and the sound of heavy footsteps coming towards you. 

Not a second late, you sheathed your sword and started climbing the nearest building. Your side hurt like hell, even though you were still bleeding, but that had to go away.

As soon as you got to the roof you ran away. But you were slowly running out of strength, so you hid in the nearest garden. There you leaned your back against the wooden wall and waited for the situation in the city to calm down.

However, you didn't expect the sword to turn into a human, let alone Altair. You completely forgot about him during the fight. You thought he took some opportunity to escape.

"What made you think of following me there?" he asked you sternly and took your hand. He examined it from different angles and gently ran his fingers over it. It was the hand they cut you in and knocked out your sword. However, there was nothing with your hand, only the metal was slightly scratched.

"It's okay, I don't…" you stuttered as pain shot through your side. Like someone stabbed you in the wound again. Altair immediately noticed the blood and crouched down to get a better look.

There was still a lot of blood coming out of your side. Altair leaned over to you, took off your leather belt and tied the red scarf you had around your waist pressing against your wound like a makeshift bandage. Altair grunted something before deciding that you needed to get back to base as soon as possible.

Once the bells had quieted, you left your hiding place. You have reached the edge of the roof. You were about to jump when Altair took you in his arms and started running with you.

"You know I can still run?" you asked him as you didn't understand him at all. He hasn't treated you like this in all this time. So far, he's acted more like you're just a burden. However, he shot you a look and didn't say anything about it. You preferred not to say anything for the rest of the trip.

Once you got to the base the assassin laid you down on the carpets and ordered you to lie down before walking into the room behind Malik. Suddenly there was shouting and an argument.

"What did you think? You want to kill all the masters Al Mualim assigns you?!" Malik shouted at him.

"Shout at me all you want, but first help me treat her! There will be time for arguments later!" Altair retorted sternly. You haven't experienced him like this. At that, Malik said something you didn't understand before they both walked over to you with clean bandages and water.

After the treatment, Malik left and only Altair was left, watching you with a stern look. You sat across from him with your head down, expecting a spanking.

"Why didn't you stay at the base? Did you want to get killed or something?" scolded you

"I didn't want to just idly wait here. Besides, if I hadn't followed you, they could have killed you," you answered honestly, looking at him hesitantly. His gaze remained stern for a moment before softening and sighing.

“I'll keep quiet about this disobedience in front of Al Mualim, but don't expect to get away with it unpunished,” he said more sternly than you expected, though, on the other hand, you were glad he would keep quiet about it in front of the Grandmaster.

Even if you were afraid of what the assassin would come up with for you. However, that was all he wanted to tell you and otherwise let you rest. You were glad for that, as you wondered to yourself how exhausted you were.

You woke up late at night and the only source of light was the moon shining down through the lattice. You were cold and pulled more of the blanket closer to you.

Then it dawned on you that you didn't have a blanket before you fell asleep. You also noticed that someone was lying right next to you, wrapping their arms around your waist so gently that they weren't pressing on your wound at all.

You wanted to turn around and see who was lying next to you, even though you had your suspicions. But as you wiggled, someone gently pulled you closer to him. This deterred you from moving any further and instead, you decided to check your tattoo. You rolled up your sleeve and smiled.

So you finally found your true weapon. Your wrist was no longer adorned with an ordinary grey sword. Rather, a sword with eagle wings and a hilt resembling an eagle's head with a golden eye. You had the impression that the eye perfectly captured his own eyes. As if he was looking at you through the tattoo.

You pulled your hand to your chest and closed your eyes with a happy smile. You placed your other hand lightly on top of his. Your tattoo confirmed it, and you came away safer than ever with the weapon that you embraced as if he wanted to protect you even in your sleep. Who would have thought that your weapon would be Altair?

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

[milflewis]

1k. nigelio. sewis. a glimpse at a what if conversation at a what if silverstone grand prix 2023 ft. nigel mansell being a Gossip

“Nigel.”

Lewis pauses when he opens the door, faltering. It takes a lot to surprise Lewis Hamilton, Nigel knows. And even more to make him show it. He smiles.

“Hello, Lewis.”

“Uh.” Lewis looks past him and then back at his face before shrugging, a grin coming easy. He always did have a face made for smiling. “Hey, man. I heard you were around this weekend. How’s things?”

“Ah, alright. Your race engineer – Bono, yeah? – said that you weren’t scheduled to be out on track for a while. Thought I’d drop by for a minute. Have a chat.”

Lewis raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. Nigel stands very still. After a long breath, Lewis steps back. He opens the door wider, arm stretching out behind him. “Sit wherever. You want a drink?”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

Lewis’s motorhome is acres nicer than any of theirs back in the day, though that can be said for any of the new digs of the drivers nowadays. It’s tidy enough – no empty water bottles lying around, a racesuit thrown half folded over a massage table, a heavy looking shimmery jacket hanging off the back of the door. Cluttered but not dirty. Lived in. Nigel sits down on the couch. There is dog hair on the cushion.

The cross on Lewis’s smooth back stretches and relaxes as he pulls on his fireproofs. His waist is ridiculously tiny. The arms of his racesuit hang low on his hips.

All this pampering he does, Niki had said to him years ago, fond. For fun! He had sounded exasperated and, strangely, proud. Him and James would’ve been insufferable. Not a minute of peace – cut your hair like this, Niki. Grow it out like this, Niki. Why don’t you use conditioner or whatever, Niki.

Lewis sits down on the small chair opposite him, legs falling open at the knees. He’s barefoot. His nails are painted a familiar shade of green. Something in Nigel’s chest hurts.

“I’ve been talking to Sebastian,” Nigel says without any preamble. Lewis barely even blinks.

“I’d guessed,” he replies dryly, and Nigel wonders, not for the first time, how much exactly Lewis notices about what’s going on around the paddock.

“I think you should strike,” Nigel says instead, leaving that question for another day. “Sebastian agrees. He says it might be better if he’s the one to talk to Fernando.”

Lewis’s mouth quirks up at the corner, smile lines winking. He hums quietly. He does not ask why Sebastian isn’t here to tell him himself, or giving him a call. Nigel still isn’t really sure what’s going on there either. Niki was never much help, for all that he loved gossip, and Keke has been firmly staying out of Lewis’s business the past few years, especially when it involves Sebastian, because: “Do you want me to hate my son, Nige? Do you want me to hate you? This is what will happen if I have to listen to any of shit again.”

“Better if you get Jenson to follow up after.” Lewis doesn’t look away from him. “Fernando doesn’t like being told what to do. Jenson knows how to chill him out.”

Nigel isn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole.

Lewis watches him. “We do have Charles to play the piano.”

Nigel laughs. “You do.” The sound feels like it gets caught on a hook in the underside of his stomach. “I’ve heard you play too.”

Lewis scruches up his nose. It is interesting, Nigel thinks, the things that Lewis let’s himself be modest over and what he doesn’t.“Only a little.”

“A piano is a good distraction,” Nigel advises. “You’ll need to get rid of people’s phones. Or at least, have only one person keep them on hand.”

Lewis smiles wryly. “That’d be fun.”

“Probably.”

Lewis reaches down by the side of his seat and straightens up with a pair of thin white socks in hand. He unrolls them and pulls them on, foot by foot. Right. Then left.

Nigel isn’t sure what the right thing to do here is. Does he tell Sebastian that Lewis is, painting his toenails a colour that is strikingly like the Aston Martin green, or does he stay out of it?

Keke would tell him to stay out of it.

“I’ve been thinking of it too,” he says, leaning back. “Of saying no. Making a stand. Things are – things are getting messy.”

“They’ve been messy for a while,” Nigel offers. Lewis doesn’t take it. He only shrugs, slipping his feet into his boots.

Nigel wonders if he and Sebastian talk about that year. He isn’t sure what to hope for.

Lewis tucks his hands under his armpits as he sits back and waits for Nigel to continue. Nigel has said all he came here to say – or at least, all he knows for sure he can say. He looks rather tired. Weary. He should take a long hot bath. Nigel thinks about telling him.

“A piano is a good idea,” he starts. Or tries to. It’s not quite what he intended to say. Lewis’s shoulders relax minutely. Nigel hadn’t realised he was tense.

He looks at Nigel like he knows Nigel knows what he wants to ask.

“Sebastian will agree, I think,” Nigel tries again. He bites at his cheek. He’s too old for this. He doesn’t know how to talk like this anymore.

He thinks of Elio’s smile. He thinks of the swoop of his g’s and his y’s in his data notes that he’d swap with Nigel when they were both at Lotus. He thinks of the only proper way to cook spaghetti bolognese that Elio never got around to showing him. He thinks of how he is nearly fairly sure Sebastian hasn’t called Lewis once since last year. He thinks of Sebastian turning qualifying off in the background of their call a few weeks ago after Lewis had done his run.

“I don’t know if it was love,” Nigel lies despite himself. He has always been very English unfortunately. “Or – at least – that kind of love. We were friends. Very good friends. One of my best, I must say. You notice – when they’re there. And when they aren’t. It’s better – when they are.” He pauses, grimacing. He doesn’t speak on his championship. On how winning tasted faintly like losing.

“Sorry for the poetry,” he laughs and it only rings out slightly hollow. Lewis smiles at him, the lines around his eyes soft. He reminds Nigel of Elio for a quick breathless moment. That same kind brutality.

“Sounds like love to me,” Lewis says, quiet.

Nigel thinks of Lewis’s career. Of whose name is beside him in the history books. Of the Lewis-shaped pauses in Sebastian’s calls to chat that were not there before his retirement. Of how Lewis doesn’t say his name much anymore. Of the look on Sebastian’s face in that one photo from Monaco.

He wants to shake them both, suddenly viciously full of anger. His fingers feel like they’re full of fizzy drink, prickling away at the under-bed of his nails.

They’re so terribly, awfully — enviously — young.

Lewis looks back at him, face calm like a lake. It doesn’t feel like a dare. It doesn’t quite feel like it isn’t one.

He should learn how to ask, Nigel remembers overhearing Aryton complaining about Michael. Just fucking ask for what he wants. Being told no is not dying.

The irony, as it was wont to with Ayrton, was lost on him.

Nigel breathes.

“Yes,” Nigel allows himself – and Lewis. “I guess it is.”

[hasaniwalker]

Hundred Acre Kingdom: Prologue Teaser

I started expanding on my Hundred Acre Kingdom story for print now that tigger is in public domain. Kessie and Gopher will be changed, they’re still very much all Disney.

If you didn’t see the original story post years ago, this is the story of Christopher Robin’s daughter and the world she creates after she gets her father’s childhood toys. With a more adventurous imagination, she creates a world of knights, castles and monsters. This isn’t a horror film (though those adaptations get the most attention). Instead, it’s a coming of age story about what we inherit from others and finding our own paths.

I’m planning to self publish this for myself and anyone who cares to read it. It’ll probably be limited once it comes out.

Anyway, here’s a first draft of the new opening prologue for the book.

The Hundred Acre Kingdom

“I knew when I met you an adventure was going to happen.” 

― A.A. Milne

Prologue

The covers were a poor defense. She knew that, but pulled them close all the same. As the thunder rolled closer, it was only a matter of time before it found its way to her home. Destroying the door to and pouring inside. Lightning striking the walls, tearing down all the comforts decorating the hallway. All to make its way to her room and take her away to the darkness outside.  The Noise outside was proof enough of the sky’s intent. Loud, desperate and hateful that it hadn’t found her yet.  Yes, the covers were a very poor defense.

“Tut, tut little one.” Her father told her. “It’ll pass in good time.”

His ignorance of the threat outside was laughable. How could anyone be so calm with the storm so close to finding them? However, his words were a distraction. And a distraction of any kind was welcomed.

“I was just as afraid when I was your age, but you come to enjoys the thunder after a while.”

“I’m not afraid.” She nearly snapped in a whisper. “I’m just, wary.”

Her father smiled. “Well, when I was wary, I had some friends who would help me through it. Would you like to meet them?”

The girl barely paid attention to his words. A flicker of light lit up the room for a second. The threat was closer. Checking windows. Trying to find any trace of her. Time was running out.

“This one, he was always so afraid.” The man continued. “But his friend was always by his side to help keep him calm.”

The thunder had lost its way. Confused. They were safe for a little while. The girl looked to her father to see him holding a stuffed pig and bear. Old and ragged. They looked up at her with curious eyes. He placed them on the bed with her.

“These are your friends?”

“They were, a long time ago.”

She lifted up the pig. He was a small creature, but not without charm.

“Piglet.” Her father said. “On account of his size.” The girl smiled at this as her father stood up from the bed. “They’ll keep you safe through the night, and you can do the same for them I’m sure.” He looked at her, waiting for an answer to a question he didn’t ask.

The girl looked at the bear and the pig. The covers wouldn’t help, but reinforcements would.

“Yes.” She responded. “I’m sure I can.”

With that, her father left the room, closing their door behind him.  The rain still poured outside. Gently hitting the window and roof. For a moment, it was peaceful. Until a shattering boom was heard. The girl pulled the covers closer and looked to the window. Everything went silent again, except for a low whimper from the side of her bed.  She looked over to find the bear. Quivering, paws over its head and eyes tightly closed.

“I don’t think it’s found us yet.” She reassured him to no effect.

“He’ll be like that for a while mum.” The pig, Piglet had moved to the window. Peaking outside. “Looks like pure fury, but he’s nothing but fluff.”

“Don’t look out the window, it’ll see you.” The girl warned the pig.

“Looks to have lost our scent.” He leaped from the window and walked to the bear. “But if it comes back, I’ll be ready.” Piglet scratched the bear’s head. “And you’ll find bravery then, won’t you cub?”

The bear raised his head and nuzzled Piglet. He was large, but gentle with the small swine. Another flicker of light outside sent the bear into trembles. He looked to the girl. Eyes pleading for her to do anything to help. All she could offer, was a hand, to which the bear licked affectionately.

“We should pass the time then.” Piglet suggested.

“With what?”

Piglet leaned against the bear as if relaxing in the grass. He placed his hands on his stomach and thought.

“A story would be nice.” He offered.

“Something adventurous?” 

“That would be preferred if you’re able Miss…What should I call you?”

The girl thought this over. Not a strange question, but to be asked by a pig seemed like a unique situation.

“Clover, you can call me clover.”

Piglet nodded. “We’ll, Miss Clover. Tell us a story of adventure and courage and when the rolling thunder is done searching, I’ll take you beyond this fortress to real adventures waiting outside.”

“Along with the bear?” Clover found herself growing excited.

“Of course, can’t leave our steed.”

As Piglet rested and the rain passed, Clover spun a story of perilous events and wondrous places. It was the first of many that she would share with her new friends. Eventually, light shone through the dark clouds, and the rolling terror was long forgotten. Now it was time to go outside with the bear and Piglet, and ride off into the vast woods. Making discoveries and creating their own stories. Of which, there would be many.