#i have... many many thoughts and nowhere to put them

[ldydeath]

Crayon | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

BIGBANG APRIL CHALLENGE - APRIL 26TH

Summary: You and Jiyong agree to match your hair the same color but when yours turns out horribly wrong, Jiyong takes matters into his own hands to make sure you aren't the only one with a crazy hair color. Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: established relationship, fluff. idk, kissing? Author's Note: Here's April 26th's fic. This is just a cute little fluffy fic.

It was one of those Saturdays where you had nothing to do and nowhere to go so you and Jiyong had camped out in the living room all day.  A blanket fort had been constructed and an abnormal amount of movies had been watched while bunk food had been consumed. It was a perfect day. 

You were currently curled up in the blanket fort, legs tangled together as The Truman Show played. You’d lost count of how many times you’d seen the movie, it being Jiyong’s favorite it was constantly on rotation. You sat up suddenly, a grin on your face as your turned to face Jiyong.

“We should do something fun!” 

“Okay?” He sat up, brows raised. “Like what?”

“We should dye our hair.” Jiyong laughed at your suggestion and shook his head.

“You know I can’t because of work.”

“Oh ok.” You shrugged laying back down. “I just thought it would be cute to match is all. What if we just did mine?”

Jiyong looked over at you, a smirk on his face as he stood up. His hand reached out to assist you up and you took it, the grin still on your face.

“Let’s see what boxed dyes I have.”

He led you through the house towards the bathroom. His hair stylist was going to kick him tomorrow for using a boxed dye on his hair but that was a risk he was willing to take. He’d do anything for you, including frying his hair. He pulled all the dyes out and placed them on the counter, standing back to look them all over. His chin resting in his hands as he thought over the choices. 

“I have two whites, if you still want to match.” He walked over to them, holding them up and you nodded. 

“Really?" You grinned and he nodded. "White hair it is!” 

You took turns putting the dye in each other's hair and moved back to the living room to get cozy as you waited for the timer to go off. It was silly to want to match him in this way, but it was something you hadn’t done before. Matching clothes, matching tattoos, matching piercing, yes. Matching hair would just make your relationship all the more cute and you couldn’t wait to take a million pictures when it was done. 

“I’m so excited!” You squealed as you checked the timer. 

Jiyong smiled at you, his eyes flicking to your hair. The color setting was definitely not white, but he didn’t have the heart to ruin this for you, not yet.  The timer went off and Jiyong led you wordlessly to the bathroom, he helped you out of your clothes, before stripping himself and turning on the shower. 

A shower may be the most unnecessary way to rinse the dye out but it was definitely the more fun option. He gulped as you stepped into the water, your eyes flicking to the pool of pink and you turned to face him. Before you could even question it, his lips were on yours in a gentle kiss. You sighed into the kiss, your arms wrapping around him, the hair dye dripping down your bodies. If he was attempting to make you forget that you weren’t going to match him he was doing a pretty good job. He broke the kiss to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, to your collarbone.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered against your skin. 

“So are you.” You shivered under the water and Jiyong took that as his sign to get you out of the shower.

He turned the water off and grabbed your towel, wrapping one around your body tightly before taking a smaller one to dry your hair.

“You sure it looks ok?” He nodded at you.

“You’re so gorgeous. I’m sorry we don’t match.” 

“It’s fine, at least you have the white again. I’ve always liked that look on you.” You shrugged.

Jiyong handed you your robe and waited for you to slide it on before putting his on as well. He led you back out to the living room, sat you down on the couch and pulled you into his arms as he hit play on the movie. 

You knew it was silly to be upset over having pink hair. You could always change it tomorrow or just let it fade away. You didn’t have to match him with the hair color. It was probably too much anyway. You’d end up hating it in a week. With the pink you were practically guaranteed three colors in one as it faded.

His fingers playing with the ends of your hair, a smile on his face. It may not have been what you wanted, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something like this without permission. It was freeing, even if it was just some hair dye. He always had to get things approved, make sure it fit whatever theme the whole group had going on. But right now, with you at his side, he didn’t care if what he did matched the guys. He just wanted to match you. 

“I’ll be right back.” He moved to get out from under you, disappearing through the back of the apartment. 

Once he was sure you hadn’t followed him, he pulled out two more boxes, reading them over carefully. Maybe you didn’t rock the white the way you’d wanted to but he could fix this. He covered his hair in blue dye and sat on the kitchen sink, waiting for the timer to go off. He rinsed his hair carefully and dried it, praying you wouldn’t come check on him. 

“Ji?” You called from down the hall.

“Yeah?” He poked his head out of the bathroom to hear you better, his hearing ruined by years of not wearing popper ear protection on stage. 

“What are you doing?”

“Oh. Nothing. Iye fell in the sink.” He closed his eyes as the lie slipped out. He had no idea where the cat was. “I’ll be right there.”  You raised a brow, looking down at the cat in your lap.

“Okay?” You weren’t going to question whatever he was doing. 

He shut the door, picking up the pink dye and carefully applied it to the ends of his hair. Once the dye had sat, he rinsed it out, looking over his hair carefully, pleased with the outcome. It was a little crazy, but he didn’t mind it. At least he’d match you. His hair might fall out tomorrow from all the dye, but if it made you smile for tonight it was worth it. He could always go out and buy a wig. 

“What do you think?” He spun around as he entered the living room and you let out a snort. He blinked when he saw Iye resting in your lap. Of course that’s where the cat had been the entire time. Smooth. 

“You look ridiculous.” God. You loved that man so much. Jiyong knelt down, a smile on his face as he leaned in to peck your lips. 

“Just What I was going for.” He paused, “Hi Iye.” 

Iye looked up unamused and hopped down off your lap, Jiyong moved to pull you back to the blanket fort - you happily obliged as you cuddled up next to him. It wasn’t full pink but it would work. You knew he had to be careful about his hair colors for work anyway, and him even agreeing to it had been a miracle. You leaned up, pecking his check and he smiled, his arms wrapping around you tighter. 

“Thank you for doing this.” He looked down at you and shrugged. 

“You know I’d do anything for you.” 

His hand moved to rest under your chin, tilting her face up slightly and his lips brushed over yours gently. You smiled as your mouth moved with his and your hand moved to rest on his cheek as you turned on your side to get more comfortable. You could spend the rest of the night doing just this with no complaints. But you both had to come up for air sometime plus Jiyong had an early call time in the morning. 

With a reluctant sigh, Jiyong led you to your shared room and cuddled into you in bed, watching as you fell asleep. To him, you were the most perfect person in the world. It didn't matter to him what color your hair was. He was just glad he could bring you some joy with his own color choice. He’d worry about work when he got there and if they didn’t like his hair, that was on them. He was going to keep this for as long as you wanted. It was the least he could do.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @flymetothexmoon @sherrayyyyy

Writing challenge taglist: @bluesunss @berfgrimm @emmiesoverthemoon @sevendaysummer @currentloser @makeitworse @aizshallnotbefound @sherxoo @keiraryan @steponupbabe

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Running to You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister series to Just What I Needed

Summary: You’re rescued by a man who you don’t even know is a real hero.

Characters: nomad Steve Rogers.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

With a quarter of the oatmeal cookie wrapped up in your purse, you head back home at last. You’re a bit behind but it’s not so bad since you have help. Despite your protests, which recede each time they’re swept over, Steve insists on carrying your bags to your building.

He doesn’t let the subway ride deter him even as you anxiously wiggle in your seat. You sit beside the bags as he stands in front of you. He holds onto the overhead bar as he shields you from the rest of the car. You don’t mind it. Often times you feel like people are watching you. 

Your stop comes and you get up. Steve keeps you from falling back down as a press of bodies pushes by. He takes both bags and follows you to the doors. 

You sigh as you get off. You look at him. “I always get a bit... claustrophobic.” 

“Me too,” he agrees coolly, his eyes scanning the platform. It’s cracked and stained. There’s a faint smell of urine rising from the concrete. “Been a while since I hit this end of the borough.” 

“Hm, yeah. The shop’s a bit further but nowhere closer sells what I need,” you explain. “Used to go further when I worked... for someone else.” 

You shrug. You try not to think about that time. Those memories are not fun. 

You come up to ground level. There’s a man sitting against the brick wall along the sidewalk. You don’t look at him. You used to offer some spare change but stopped after a few mean names too many. You didn’t mean to insult anyone. 

Steve sighs as you carry on down the street. 

“Rough area,” he says as you pass a group of men in hoodies and ball caps. They quiet as you go by. They even turn to watch Steve. 

“Mm, everyone needs somewhere to live,” you shrug. “I don’t go out much anyhow.” 

“I wouldn’t either.” He steps closer, almost protectively, as a slouching man mutters something under his breath. You don’t bother anyone and they do the same. For the most part. 

Your apartment isn’t very far. At the front door, you quickly unlock the heavy grated door and grunt as you open it. Steve gets his elbow against it and pushes it back all the way. He trails you inside. 

“You can leave those with me now,” you say as you approach the end of the staircase. “You came all this way already.” 

“You live upstairs?” He peers up. 

You bite the inside of your lip. “Yes, but only one floor.” 

“I came all this way, like you said. What’s a bit more?” 

You hum. He tilts his head. 

“I’m... bugging you?” 

“No, Steve. I just... I feel bad, is all. I don’t have much to pay you back with.” 

“Pay me back? I’m being nice.” 

“I know but... no one’s that nice. Not even me.” 

“Sure you are,” he shrugs. “Just one more floor, right?” 

You don’t argue. You hop up the steps ahead of him. You’re drained from a day out in public. You just want to get to where you know is safe. 

You lead him to the second floor and pad along the hall. As you near your door, the one next to it opens. A familiar face looks out. Mike sniffs and rubs his dark eyes as he waves and steps out. 

“Oh, hi, Mike,” you greet your neighbour. 

“Was wondering where you were,” he utters dully. His tattoos peek out beneath the thin fabric of his white tank, another traced onto his bicep. “I was knocking—oh, uh, who’s that?” 

He looks past you as Steve stops behind you. 

“This...” you look over your shoulder, “this is my friend, Steve.” 

“Friend?” Mike echoes flatly. “Huh.” 

“I had to go get some stuff. Did you get what I left you this morning?” You ask. 

“French toast,” he grins sleepily. “Yeah...” 

“I made it with the special sugar,” you say. 

“Mmm, alright,” he sways and leans back into his door. “Sorry... I... see ya.” 

He turns and nearly tumbles through his door. It snaps shut behind him. Steve lets out a long breath. 

“He your friend too?” He asks. 

You’re suddenly very self-conscious. You know you don’t live in the best neighbourhood. He must have thought you were better off shopping up at that organic shop. He must be, at least, if he hangs out around there. 

“He’s my neighbour,” you say as you unlock your door.  

You turn to take a bag from him. He stares at Mike’s door. You frown. 

“He’s nice enough.” 

“His arms...” 

“Yeah... diabetic. He takes insulin. Probably his blood sugar again,” you give a sad smile. “My aunt had diabetes too.” 

“Diabetic?” His eyes flick over to you. “Did he say that?” 

“I... I didn’t ask,” you murmur. “I just thought...” 

“You don’t...” he begins then shakes his head. “I think you’re right. He must be sick.” 

You’re quiet. You step forward and take a bag. You turn to put it inside your door. Then you reach for the next. 

“You give him food?” 

“He’s skinny. I have extra,” you say. “Nothing wrong with sharing.” 

“No, there’s not.” He hands over the other bag. “But there is such a thing as being too nice. Being used.” 

“What?” You hug the bag. “No, Mike is... Mike is nice to me. He... he watches out for me. You know. Someone broke the chain in my apartment. I was so scared but he chased them off. Stayed and watched the apartment until I got back.” 

Steve’s brows knit. He looks over again at Mike’s door. 

“You weren’t home?” 

“Luckily,” you nod. 

His eyes spark and his cheek dimples. Why is he upset?” 

“Oh, um, the beard oil. One second.” 

You spin and scurry into your apartment. You put the bag down and rush around the tight space. All your supplies are along one wall on shelves and in boxes, then you have your work station and the package mat. You sit on the floor and pack it all up. It’s like a little factory. You have just enough room for your cot in the corner. 

You grab a vial of beard oil with bergamot and a comb to go with it. You hurry back to the door as Steve peeks inside. He backs up as you do. 

“Here. You can use this,” you wiggle the comb at him. “To work it in a bit better. I’m all out of the evergreen oil.” 

“Uh, thanks,” he takes them in his large hands and examines your hand written labels. “Wow, this looks almost... like it could be in a store.” 

“I do my best.” 

“You’re good at it. You make a lot.” 

“Enough to live.” You assure him. “Steve,” you put your feet together and stand up as straight as you can. “Thank you so much. Really.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“It’s everything to be kind,” you say. 

“You make it easy,” he turns the vial between his fingers. “Can... is it too much to ask for your number?” 

You stare at him then your chest thrums. You clap and bounce on your toes. “Oh! You can take my card.” Once more, you twirl and race into your apartment. You search for the box with your business cards and return to him again. “I had a bunch printed out. A few shops let me leave them there with a bit of product.” 

He accepts the card and reads it. He brushes his finger over the font. He smiles and looks at you. 

“I’ll call,” he says. 

“Sure,” you rock back and forth. “But please, go home and get rest. It’s been a long day.” 

“It sure has,” he agrees. “You do the same.” 

“I will. Once I get this all put away.” 

He chews his cheek then reluctantly backs off. You wait until he turns and starts down the hall. You don’t shut the door until he’s at the end.  

You slide your chain into place, the wood frame still splintered from where it was broken by the intruder. It would’ve been a lot worse if you didn’t have such a good neighbour. Just like today would’ve been so much worse without Steve. 

🎀

Your phone rings. You hold up your hands, wax oily on your gloves. You really don’t want to take them off. You’re just getting into the swing. 

You look around desperately. Huh. You bend and tap answer with your nose. 

“Hello,” you say too close to the speaker. 

“Hey, it’s Steve,” the greeting comes from the other end. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Ummmmm. Not bad. I’m just making some stuff.” 

“Right. You’re busy.” He says. Disappointment laces his tone. 

“Not too busy,” you assure him, speaking up so he can still hear you as you go back to it. “How are you?” 

“I’m... okay,” he drags out. You can hear him moving on the other side. “Long day.” 

You scrape the wax into a tin and level it off. “Long... how?” 

Silence. Then you hear him set down the phone. Something shifts. A chair spring, maybe? 

“Just... I hate being out of the city. I know it’s work but... being far from home. It reminds me... of a long time ago.” He takes a deep breath. 

“You work out of town?” You ask. 

“Sometimes. Most times.” He answers, almost reluctantly. 

“Wow. Well, you must get to see lots of new things. There’s that at least. Even if work is crummy.” 

“That’s definitely the bright side,” he agrees glumly. 

“But you miss your family,” you say.  

He’s silent again. You wait but he doesn’t break it. Oh. Maybe you said too much. 

“Sorry, I hope... hope I didn’t overstep.” 

“No, no,” he says. “No. It’s... I miss my friends, I guess.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Don’t have many others to miss,” he hums. “Anyway, I didn’t just call to complain. The beard stuff you gave me. It’s nice. It smells great and helped soften this up. You know, it gets so itchy.” 

“Really? I’m so happy you like it.” 

“Of course I do. You made it,” he assures you. “I was thinking of shaving. I should. I want to. But, eh. I don’t mind it as much now.” 

“Well, if you do, let me know. I have shaving balm. It’s like aftershave but a cream,” you say. “I’m slowly expanding my men’s products.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He says. 

“If you wanna know about my work, it’s messy! I opened the window. I was getting dizzy,” you giggle. “And it’s not very exciting unless I burn myself.” 

“Did you?” 

“No... not yet,” you laugh again. “I’m used to it. Not too bad.” 

“You do all that in that tiny apartment?” 

“It’s not that small.” 

“Can’t be that roomy. Or safe. Don’t they have building codes?” He wonders. 

“Sure they do but they only enforce them when they know what you’re doing,” you shrug. “I’m just making soap and whatever. I’m not hurting anyone.” 

“I know, it’s just... you could get hurt.” 

“I guess,” you drone. “But, you know, I’m saving up for a real space. Some day.” 

“Some day,” he sucks his teeth. You frown. You know you’re breaking the rules but him reminding you, doesn’t help. This is your livelihood. You don’t have a choice. “What about your neighbours? They don’t care?” 

“Never say anything,” you mutter. 

“What about Mike? You talked to him lately?” He wonders. 

“Sure. He’s cool. He helped carry my laundry back from the machine. It was so heavy.” 

“Helpful,” he remarks. 

“Like you,” you reply. 

He takes another heavy breath. “I’m back in town in a few days. Wanna go find the best cookie in the city?” 

You hesitate. It sounds fun but you can’t really afford all that. “Maybe or... we can just go watch the birds in the park.” 

“Sure, whatever you want, doll,” he groans and you hear that squeak again. “Ugh, I’m all cramped.” 

“I’ll save you a bath bomb!” You offer. “Take a nice hot bath. It’ll help.” 

“I should...” he yawns. “In a bit. Why don’t you tell me what a bath bomb is?” 

“You don’t know? Wow. Okay!” You begin giddily. You don’t get to talk to many people and those you do, rarely care about what you do. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Just had a thought— what if Book 8 cycles back to Heartslabyul instead of Ramshackle/Grim and we have Diasomnia helping out them instead

Coz like, if we hypothetically have anything after Book 8, and if we’re following the same pattern as the rest of the main story, then it’d be Ramshackle helping out Heartslabyul again, which the devs might find too repetitive and not idk engaging enough? I personally don’t mind as long as we get more story lol

Mmm… I don’t know. This would put Heartslabyul in a position where they get more importance in the main story’s first arc than the other dorms. I guess it could be argued they’ve always had more importance because of Adeuce’s ties to it + having so many members and the game title literally having Wonderland in it. But then I’m also left wondering what Heartslabyul issue would become relevant to cap off the school year with and why Diasomnia in particular would be helping them??? It seems like it would come out of nowhere.

At this point, books 1-7 have spanned 5 irl years. I think that’s a slow enough release schedule to not have repeating the pattern of dorms come off as repetitive. (There’s also no guarantee that we’ll repeat the dorm order anyway, and no confirmation of what will be the next “big arc” in the main story.) Besides, this is Twst we’re talking about. They made us sit through 100+ extremely repetitive dreams and had us deal with almost 10 OBs… I don’t think they take any particular issue with patterns 🫩

I just feel it makes more sense at this point to focus on tying up Yuu and Grim’s loose ends. There’s still so much to uncover between Grim’s OB, the nature of Mickey Mouse, Yuu going home or not… Why would the story suddenly pivot to centering Heartslabyul again??

[youchangedmedestiel]

Team free will was on a hunt. It happened to be a pack of werewolves. Sam found the case and they drove there and called Cas for help when they realized how many they were.

It was a good thing he was because when they began the assault to save the couple they were holding captive, around 10 werewolves threw themselves at them.

Sam freed the poor terrified couple, while Cas smote most of them and Dean shot 2 before his gun was ripped away by another one. At the same time, Cas took his angel blade in hand and started killing the one threatening Dean’s life with it.

They were pretty happy about themselves for saving those two people and surviving this, Dean and Cas smiled at each other until a werewolf came out of nowhere and stole the angel’s blade from Cas’s blade.

Dean quickly thought about searching for his gun or doing something else and fast. He chose the latter.

He put himself between Cas and the werewolf and took the blade in his stomach instead of Cas.

“Dean!!!!” The angel screamed, which brought back Sam into the barn fast after making sure that couple was safe. Cas’s eyes glowed blue with angel grace and killed that werewolf with his palm pressed to his forehead. The werewolf groaned before it dropped dead on the ground.

“Cas!” Sam shot, his voice filled with worry and hurry. Cas rushed to Dean’s side and touched Dean’s forehead with his hand, angelic grace migrating near the wound to heal it. The touch definitely softer on that forehead.

Dean was back to his normal, complete self when Sam and Cas helped him stand up.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean smiled at him, dusting himself off.

“Dean, what happened?” Cas asked but there was still some anger in his voice. He was probably still mad at that werewolf, Dean secretly hoped.

“Oh, I just knew you could heal me. So, I threw myself between you and that werewolf to be sure the angel blade didn’t touch you. You’re welcome!” Dean winked and patted Cas’s shoulder until the angel grabbed his wrist.

“You what?” Cas asked, preventing him from getting away from this.

“Dean, what the hell!” Sam said, eyes and mouth wide open.

“I’m fine, okay? Let’s go home!” Dean tried to walk away but Cas was still holding his wrist. “Cas.” Dean pointed at it, asking to be released.

“This was unnecessarily reckless. You could have died, Dean.” Cas realized, horror creeping under his skin.

“Cas is right.” Sam backed him up.

“Sam, just go to the car.” Dean threw and Sam did, but he was clearly upset too. One at a time, Dean thought.

Cas’s features were tense, he was angry. Dean had rarely seen him like that. “Look, like it or not I did it to save you, okay?” Dean confessed, but he was unable to pronounce the rest, “you could have died too,” because this is something Dean will avoid at all costs. Cas dying and talking about Cas dying.

And what he said must have been the right thing, because Cas let go of his wrist. He looked at Dean more softly and maybe a bit more surprised.

“I didn’t ask for this, I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you, you and Sam.” Cas declared, almost shameful.

“No need to ask for it, pal. Plus, you saved me too.” Dean smiled and Cas smiled back. “Come on, Sammy’s waiting to be mad at me.” He chuckled and put his arm around Cas’s shoulders to lead him towards the exit of the barn.

[jewishvitya]

I love the conversation Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have about the armory. Obviously paraphrased, but:

"Do you like the swords?"

"Yes!"

"I planned to give you one, but since you like them all, I'll give you all of them."

"Oh, no, I can't possibly take them. I'll have nowhere to put them."

"I'll give you the armory."

"I can't take a building, and caring for the weapons takes work."

"I'll care for them, you just visit your collection."

It's adorable.

And then I thought about him having to pawn off swords, and about how it might feel for Xie Lian to be offered something that he already had to give up in such a humiliating way.

And now I start the fourth book and I see it actually happening.

I think of losing those swords as so many little goodbyes he had to say to things he treasured. And he hates goodbyes so much.

The whole time, since his third ascension, he really isn't trying to rise too high. He'll live in a small shrine, eat bad food, refuse large gifts, and build himself up so slowly it's like he doesn't even want to live like a royal or a god at all. The time he was most active about gathering merits was when he had a debt to settle over Feng Xin's palace.

Feels like things he has, to him, are mostly things he can lose. And that's heartbreaking when he was always someone who couldn't stand separation and loss, even in small things.

[f1shart]

something i've been trying to answer for a couple of months is Which base game hood has the most Face Template Sims?

by Face Template, i mean sims whose faces are just. the premade maxis presets (and by sims, i really mean the main alive ones.) i feel like people often point to pleasantview when discussing the most basic/template-y of the hoods, but after looking at strangetown i can't help but wonder… Are we really sure about that?

i mean, you have sims like pascal and lazlo and jenny and buzz and tank and the singles who all seem to look EXACTLY like in-game face templates ..............................right?

So, which base game hood has the most Face Template Sims?

In order to figure out once and for all which hood has the most Face Template Sims, I put together a little Notion document(!) to juxtapose their faces with the closest templates, as well as with their suggested feature templates from C.Syde's Wiki (so credit to that guy ^^).

Something I quickly found out as I was piecing this together, though, was that Maxis put in a little more effort than I thought… Every single Sim has at least some slight modification to their face, with the exception of four: Alexander Goth, John Burb, Puck Summerdream, and Desdemona Capp. Two from Pleasantview, two from Veronaville. Ironically, at least to those who are familiar with it, Veronaville is known as the hood with the most unique Sim faces out of the base game trinity. Sure, you have your Vidcunds and Dinas and Nervouses, but Veronaville has threefold what the others do with Sims like Consort, Tybalt, Hermia, Isabella, Romeo, Benedick, etc. etc.

With this in mind, how is it that Veronaville is the true answer to this question? Well, Alexander Goth actually has a modification made to his jaw, but the difference is so slight that I counted him anyway. The same is true for John Burb with a slight modification of his forehead. Basically, not only is Veronaville the base game hood with the most Face Template Sims, it is the only base game hood with any Face Template Sims at all!

But what if we redefined "Face Template Sims"?

Even if Sims like Jenny and Buzz don't technically fall under this category, they bear enough resemblance to templates that many simmers consider them such anyway. Maybe, in this case, Face Template Sims just strongly resemble the templates they're based on. Here's a problem, though: how in the world do you qualify what it means for a Sim to resemble their template? It might sound simple enough—just use your eyes and compare, stupid!—but when does a Sim's face cross the threshold from "looking like a template" to true uniqueness? Here are some examples.

Until I started looking into this topic, I never realized Circe was so similar to Template #27! There are significant edits to her eyes, with lesser edits to her brow area and nose and even lesser edits to her jaw. Despite her strikingly distinctive eyes, I think Circe definitely lies closer to the "Template-y" end of the spectrum. Another example:

Something that continues to surprise my friends is that Mercutio actually shares many similarities with Template #2. I'd argue it's much less obvious in his teen stage, but here we can see that the upper half of his face is basically identical to it. Though I'll never accept this fact myself, Mercutio is unfortunately a bit basic!

Compared to the other two, I'd say Goneril is much more "unique." Maxis definitely shot for a very sharp look for her and, in my opinion, they really cooked ngl... However, when you notice the unchanged eyes and nose, you can start to see exactly how the other template features were changed to achieve her look, which almost ruins her previously assumed uniqueness. One final example:

When the closest template is nowhere near how the Sim actually looks, that's how you know you're dealing with an entirely new species. It's quite funny to flip through the two images and watch the mouth remain entirely unchanged, though.

Even with his unchanged mouth, Loki is by far the "most unique" Sim out of these examples, and one reason for that might be the eyes and nose. At least for me, the eyes and nose are the two most defining features of a face as they sit right in the center. A significant change in either of them leads to a significant change in perception of the overall face, which may explain why Circe seems so distinctive and why Goneril seems to bear more of a resemblance to her template despite the considerable edits in other areas.

Then comes the question of well, are they Face Template Sims or not? You could argue no, that even with some features remaining the same, particularly in the cases of Circe and Mercutio, there are still enough differences to distinguish them from their presets. However, these are outstanding examples; Sims like Buzz, Brandi, Jenny, Titania, Mary-Sue, and the Singles—those often regarded as the most template-y—similarly have these small edits made to different areas of their face that may surprise you in how effective they are at creating a Sim distinct from its given template!

This is all to say that attempting to define a Sim as a "Face Template" really falls into the realm of subjectivity. The technical answer to this question, as I said before, is Veronaville. If that displeases you, perhaps because of its association with basicness, take things into your own hands and decide for yourself which Sims fall into this category.

Or, alternatively, celebrate how unique Sims can look despite their basicness! Surely I'm not the only one who didn't realize that Pascal and Lazlo have essentially the same face for a good stretch of time? Or that Ophelia and Circe are based on the exact same template? Or that Cornwall and Consort look oddly similar when you remove their facial hair… huh.

[kusagrasskusa]

Jeff the Killer X Reader - “2008”

It’s the anniversery of the incident. The people come together in sorrow for the lives lost. It snowed that day.

In the mist of the snow, she saw him.

Randy, Keith and Troy were three boys who made Jeff what he is. They beat him, bleached him, set him on fire, and go away with it.

“Oh, I remember the day they moved in,” her grandma spoke lowly, “I knew they were trouble. Shame they did it here, and not some other town.”

A few listeners nodded in unison, some with hands folded neatly in front of them and others hugging one another. Everyone was dressed in black in respect for their dead loved ones. Framed pictures decorated nearly every table in the townshall, with an overbundance of flowers in every corner, nook and cranny. Handwritten letters were dropped into several boxes for the grieving families who lost someone in the incident. The incident in which the town will be forever changed by.

However, the boy majorly involved in said incident was nowhere to be seen. Not a single photo of him alone, or letter, or acknowlegement in his name in this memorial event. Of course, why would a raging serial killer be given a sort of gratitude or positive acknowlegement? After all, his family was too new to the town to be beloved by many people. Thus, their deaths weren’t nearly as impactful as those of the boys who were murdered by this serial killer.

However, there was one photo framed on a table. The flowers and letters given to the Woods family table was a mere fraction of those given to the others- however, it gained much attraction. The family photo taken right before the boy went crazy was the big centerpiece of the table. He was only 17, his birthday just passing by at the time. Him and his brother looked an awful lot alike, although… Jeffery’s eyes were darker. More “unfocused” you can say. Not as in high, but rather in that there was something else he was focusing on- deep inside his head.

She stared at that photo for a hot minute.

“Y/N baby, what are you looking at?”

Startled, she turn to her grandmother who walked over to see where she was looking. “Still thinking about that… boy?” Y/N thinned her lips, pulling her sleeves down past her wrists as a chill went down her spine at the mentioning of the killer. She shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to reply. Of course, she thought bitterly, having not a day go by without his name in her mind. Her grandmother gave her an unenthuisatsic look before sighing; “you need to let that monster go. Look at what he did to your brother. I don’t want my grandbaby to see the demon who ruined her life. We outta get going before it snows, anyway.”

Ruined her life, Y/N repeated in her head as her grandma wrapped her arm around her to pull her away. That’s one way to put it. A sour taste was left in her mouth as they moved away from the table. But, although she wouldn’t say it, she didn’t want to walk away just yet. She wasn’t sure if the face of her brother’s killer was fully fermented in her mind.

She didn’t want to forget what he looked like.

After all, being able to acknowlege the man who changed her life was hard to find. No consequence, no tension at the mentioning, and no sensitive hearts being broken. Especially since the people of the town of her relationship with him. Everyone knew how close they were; best friends, always together. The looks and side eyes the families of who Jeffery murdered would be overwhelming at times, since people like to hate her by association. As if she didn’t love her brother and wanted her best friend to murder him. She lost everything when it happened: her friends, some family, and beyond all was herself.

…

About 20 minutes passed. Y/N was back home- in her room, where almost nothing changed aside from the clealiness. The organization she once had was harder to keep up on. In the past, her brother making a mess of her room because he was an asshole gave her a reason to clean it; now, she’d rather it look like it he had touched it last. It made her feel less lonely sometimes.

Y/N sighed as she took off her heels and black dress, switching into something comfortable to sleep in. Her band tee loosly fell off her shoulder, with her hair following suit as she removed her hair clip. She stared at herself in the mirror: the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the paleness of her face after a year staying indoors. All the little imperfections and impurities. She wasn’t murdered, but in a way, she was. At least internally.

Pain followed every thought, mention, dream, voice, appearance, memory, story, and more of the incident. It hurt. She hurt.

Then, the reflection of her window in the mirror caught her eye. It was the heavy snow falling despite the fall season. The twinkling white flakes outside made her think: when it snowed this day last year in 2008, white became his color.

Her brother Randy was murdered by Jeffery. Brutally murdered. A hideous grin was slit into his brother’s face and stomach, then his hair was set on fire. Jeffery stuffed Randy’s stomach with some cloth and paper then set on fire. The smell of smoke and bloody iron woke her up that night, then her mother’s scream nearly put everyone else in shock. She’ll never forget that night.

But, there was another reason to remember that night as well.

She visited his home that day after he got out of the hospital. They were close friends and, although she never told him, her feelings for him grew more everyday. But, what she saw when his mother invited her in… wasn’t Jeff.

“Y/N!” the man as white as snow exclaimed in both excitement and shock as he turned over on the couch to face her. Of course he saw it: the way her eyes widened and her smile dropped. Her stomach churned as she looked back at him… or what was supposedly him. His black shirt and pants complimented his black hair and the dark circles around his eyes. And the whiteness of his skin made the darkness pop out, although he had a few tiny red spots where he was burned on his arms and face. Then finally, his piercing blue eyes cut through her like a blade. It was Jeff’s body, but… it wasn’t truly Jeff.

He stood up from the couch in haste, quickly wrapping his arms around her smaller form. She hugged back gently, her expression unwavering. He was acting eratic- twitching slitghly and breathing heavy. His grip was tight and fierce, and his back muslces were strangely tense. He stood over with staggering height as he pulled away, his smile wide and gleaming. He took her hands in his and said, “look at me! What’d you think, huh? Huh? Pretty, ain’t I?”

“J-Jeffery, you, I,” Y/N stuttered, “It… suits you. You look good in white.” Her voice shuddered with uncertainty, but he perhaps he didn’t notice or care. He just chuckled.

“Yeah… It does. I still feel the burning under my skin but- I love it! I love what I am now, Y/N,” he said in a raspy whisper- intense and passionate. “Wanna see what else I got? A pretty lil’ “get well soon” gift. C’mon… Lemme show you!” He gripped her hand tightly as he guided her through his home, up the stairs then into his room as he had many times before. Only this time, she wasn’t… comfortable.

“The two are from Japan,” Jeff explained as he spun the blades from between his fingers delicately like they were glass. Y/N offered a weak smile, her gaze drifting blade to blade as she swung her legs gently on Jeff’s bed. He sat next to her with an open box of blades by his side. He spoke about being good with aiming throwing knives but never a facination like this.

“Oh, that’s sick,” Y/N muttered softly. A particular blade caught her eye- it’s red hint made it different from the rest. Shereached her arm across him to point at a particular knife. “This one looks— Ow! Jeff, Jeff!—“

“Don’t you fucking touch it!—“ Jeff gripped her wrist with strong force, causing her to gasp and grab onto his hand. He sharply turned his body and leaned in close, his face scrunched into a scowl. Y/N whispered frantic apologies, having never been in this position before. He’s never acted this way before. The staring match between them lasted for a moment, until he broke it by looking down onto her lips. Then, he let go.

Despite the extreme discomfort that lingered at that moment… The memory always put butterflies in her stomach and make her heart flutter. Maybe she was just attracted to the strength he had, or the muscles that flexed on his arm, or the way he looked at her lips… Her feelings were only for the features of the man surely. Not the crazy serial killer specifically. “Oh my gosh…” she whined, covering her hands over her eyes. “Can I go a fucking day without thinking about it? And now it’s snowing when I had plans for—”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she looked out the window. Despite the grey fogginess of the outside, the moonlight revealed the whole area. The ground and trees were quickly piling up with snow. It was pretty snow- thick and good for making snowmen. However the pretty snow blankets were disturbed by something when she wasn’t looking, as evidence with the foot prints leading up to the house. They lived in a slightly remote area without many neighbors or trespassers.

“That’s weird,” she said with uncertainty as she stared. “…I’m too tired to worry about this,” she huffed and pulled her curtain over the window. Maybe her grandma left something in the backyard and went back to get it. With a yawn and a stretch, she spun around on her heel and flopped onto her bed, pushing off the pile of clothes onto the floor in the process.

Sleep took over instantly. She even forgot to turn off the lamp.

…

Drrrrrftt…

A loud shuffling shocked her ears, waking her instantly. Y/N lifted her head up and looked around, wondering what had happened as her heart pounded frantically. “What the…” she muttered groggily, slowly sitting up on the bed. It was too dark to see the room aside from the little clock on her beside with the flashing numbeers of 3:02 in the morning. She sighed, still needing to shower and get ready for bed.

She pushed her legs off the the side of the bed, rubbing her eye with one hand as the other reached for her lamp to turn it on.

Then she stopped. Dead in her tracks. And slowly moved her eyes upwards.

A tall, black figure stood slightly hunched in front of her window. It was almost too hard to see, but with the moonlight softly shining thorugh her curtains creating a ring around the figure, it was impossible to miss. It didn’t move. Even as it knew she saw it.

Her lip quivered as she stared with wide eyes. Fearful eyes. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was, with a shakey hand, turn the nob on her lamp to turn on the light with a satisfying click. Only… the light never came on. She turned the nob again. Nothing. The figure cocked his head.

Her breathing grew louder as chills ran up her spine. Her unfocused eyes scanned down by the outlet saw the wire wasn’t just unplugged, but the plug was cut off. As well as the charger to her 2004 Motorola flip phone. Her phone wasn’t even on her nightstand. She took one last look at the figure… then she used her arms to swiftly move backwards on her bed, towards her door.

The figure moved in haste, jumping onto the bed and grabbing her legs to pull her towards him. She screamed, trying to propell onto the other side of the bed while kicking at him. But the figure was just too strong, gripping her legs and pulling her to the edge of the bed before he got on top. He put a leathery hand on her mouth, her struggling with all her might being futile. He was just too strong. He was just too big compared to her.

Then, the thin coldness pressed firmly against her neck. It halted all movement aside from her rapid breathing and flowing tears. The light of the moon dimly casted on the face of the man. A face shape she used to recognize- only, in just one year’s time, the face had lost its boyishness. It was more sharp, more mature, and… distorted. A wide grin was cut into the flesh, and the cast lights of the blue eyes were faint.

And the knife on her neck glimmered.

The figure leaned in close to her ear, his body weighing heavily on her as he shifted into a straddling position.

“Y/N… Long time… No see.”

Her breath hitched as he moved his face closer to hers. Her heart was beating so rapidly as his hand moved from her mouth and onto her cheek. Her arms laid helplessly onto the bed. She shut her eyes tightly, tears pouring out faster than ever. That voice, she thought. It’s his voice. He dug his finger into her cheek, making her whince in pain. “Mmm… Look at me. Open your fucking eyes. Tell me you missed this face.”

Her eyes fluttered open, her face shifting to show the hurt she felt as she looked into his eyes. “Jeffery, you’re…” a sniffle and choke cut her off, before she weakly continued, “why’d you… Why, Jeffery?”

A low chuckle escaped his throat, “I missed you, Y/N, every damn second.” His thumb trailed the tears that flowed freely on her face, then dragging up to her eye then her shakey lips. He tapped his thumb against her lips gently. “I’ve thought about those pretty lil’ lips every damn day. I just wanna devour you- rip you away from this place, ravage you ‘til there’s nothin’ left but my imprints.” Jeff smiled widely, looking up and down Y/N like an animal. Her eyebrows furrowed as she listened, unsure of what he meant exactly. What the fuck was he on about?

“I’m not letting the fuckers in this town ruin you. A sweet little thing like you… You’re mine. Hear me? Mine.”

“Jeff, I-I don’t understand,” she sniffed, blinking away the tears the best she could. “I don’t wanna die, Jeff. I don’t wanna l-leave my mom and my family and—“

Jeff shushed her- leaning in close to her face once more and chuckling lowly.

“Y/N, baby… You got no one left to worry ‘bout now. They’re gone. Done.”

The ice coldness ran down her back. Her heart skipped a beat.

“You belong with me now. Only me. I’ll take care of you the way no one else fucking could.”

He leaned down and kissed her flowing tears. She turned her head, avoiding his lips- making his grip on her tighten. Her crying only grew louder, making her huff in annoyance.

“I’m all you need now. Nothin’ else matters— and I’m gonna make you believe it.”

[phsycodesi]

Which is the reason I am against war. And against you dehumanizing random people you don’t really know. Just because they read the same book. 14 year olds are just that, children. Kids who have been fed propaganda by their families. Generational trauma will not be solved by rounding people up and putting them into camps. Most of these people only echo what they have heard their entire lives. But many of them do just that, speak. I could blame the religion. I could blame the people who interpret it in the wrong way that hurts others. I’ll blame the people sending me death threats.

I will blame the thought and action that is wrong. But innocents however little they are, should not be killed. Will you not condemn the killing of a child just because they were part of a Muslim family? This is a question.

And again, the comparison of a group of individuals to dogs, the implications in your OG post are… let’s use the word murderous.

You are angry and upset. Rightfully so. You have met Muslims IRL that have harmed you. Hurt you and caused you pain. But the virus of hate has already spread, and it has infected you. The moment anger turns to hate red is the moment that such comments become inexcusable.

Do not misunderstand. I’m not telling you not to be angry or upset. Infact, I would encourage you on that part. Be angry, be upset. What happened was wrong. But hatred will lead you nowhere but down.

If you still don’t agree then let me ask you just one thing; If you hold a knife to an innocent Muslim’s throat one day… will you feel any remorse?

In a residential society, there are 3 out of 10 dogs who are rabied and have a habit of biting.

Instead of being a cuck, any sane person would seek to eliminate all 10 dogs. Viruses spread like fire.

This is not only about dogs.

[napalmtears]

I miss him more than life...

[chiricat]

honky star rail stuff 🍡

[dukeofthomas]

I can't find it now but there's a post about suspension of disbelief and how it's broken when the story starts trying to excuse it. "character gets knocked unconscious for hours but there's no further issues from this" okay 👍 "and actually this makes perfect sense because of this and that" um no it doesn't why are you lying to me. like i am willing to ignore the holes and the discrepancies!! all you need to do is let me and not bring unnecessary attention to it!!!

and all that is my issue with the whole robin child soldier argument. like i am willing to ignore it i am willing to engage with the fantasy literally all you need to do is NOT try to convince me that Actually It's Fine Because They Want To Do It or whatever. like literally just shut up about it and i can engage with the fantasy!!

[decaeys]

god i fucking love vampires i fucking live for vampire shit

[lara-cairncross]

Hi! Big fan of yours here! Timelines falling apart have always been a fun trope for me and I love your idea of the good timeline falling apart because it's incorrect and potentially divergent from what the original canon universe was. And the original canon universe is 'perfect' or something.

If you'd like something similar to the trope, and are a fan of mha I can't recommend 'a walking study in demonology" enough

Yo :]

YES OMG YOU GET IT!!! i know there's been a huge surge of like, time travel/multiverse/alternate timeline stuff ever since a lot of the big superhero franchises started doing it (Spiderverse my beloved, marvel in general, etc), but i've LOVED this stuff ever since i was younger-- i think one of the first fics i ever wrote was a really shitty timeloop fic lmao???? for fucking HTTYD???? AND I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THEY JUST. CASUALLY DROPPED IT INTO RISE. and by doing so technically everyone's aus are canon LIKE ISNT THAT SO FUCKING COOL??? and there's so many excellent ideas that could be played around with in a potential season 3 JUST from the canon existence of alternate timelines and interdimensional travel!!!! AUGHHHHH and the fact that Mikey's powers specifically seem tied to time somehow makes me insane i need to see it explored more!!! i wanna see him struggling with the weight of his powers and what they could mean if he loses control!!! i want to see the timeline collapse and him having to deal with a problem that only he's equipped to fix!!! SCREAMING INTO THE VOID

(ALSO thanks for the fic recommendation!! i never got super into MHA, but i HAVE read a few fics that my friend recommended from that fandom, so I think i have the knowledge to check it out and understand whats happening :DD)

[harapeveco]

Maybe this is just me but don’t you guys get the impression that newer Eve characters don’t have the same impact as older ones? What I mean is that charcaters like Pattun, Kuru, Bun, Dancer, Seki (tg specifically) and the Okinime desu mama boy are always in fanart I always see fanart of them but newer ones…I only see them on my tl for like a week or two and they just disappear and I never see them again

The only exceptions to this rule I can think of are ofc Tobi and fs Ryuuko but other than that characters from Gunjou Sanka, Don’t Replay The Boredom, Yusei Boushi, Hakugin, etc I just don’t see them like that much compared to when their MVs came out….every once in a while I see the Heart Forecast girls and maybe Raison D’être or Baumkuchen End guy in the wild but it’s very rare…even Akame and Zukin who were really popular when their MV came out are not there that much

It’s funny bc Tohiko came out two weeks ago and I already stopped seeing fanart of it like???? Idk exactly how to explain it but yeh it’s like idk they just don’t have the same impact or charisma? Or maybe it’s that we are so used to fast consumerism we just forget about them after a week or two? Idk does anyone else feels this or it’s only me?

[booktomoviebrawl]

If I wrote Pacific Rim fanfiction would you guys still like me? 👉👈 🥺

[grimforks]

frothing at the mouth and shaking violently