#knitting was a little bit of a challenge to tackle at first

[buttercupdemise]

i'm STUNNED at how simple it is to fix a mistake when you're crocheting. i can just, take the hook out, and pull the string up until the point i want to fix something. when i'm knitting and i drop a stitch, the world ends and everything is on fire

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

I need part 2 of Toto Wolff with wife of Unscripted Moments!!! 😩

A guide to modern slang

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader, feat. Jack

Summary: After the overwhelming success of their first video, the Wolff family returns with a new challenge to meet fan demand. In this follow-up, Toto Wolff tackles Gen Z slang

________________________________________________________

The Mercedes-AMG Petronas studio was buzzing with excitement, and the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Ever since the “This or That” video featuring Toto Wolff, his much younger wife (you), and their five-year-old son, Jack, had gone viral, fans were hooked. They loved the unexpected glimpse into the Wolff family's life, the humor, and the sweet dynamic between the three of you. Now, the team had another video idea that promised to deliver even more fun.

“Alright, folks, cameras rolling in three… two… one!” called out the crew member. You settled into your seat, sharing a quick smile with Toto, who, despite his normally composed demeanor, looked genuinely amused. Jack sat between you, his legs swinging under his stool as he grinned at the camera, bursting with excitement to be the star again.

“Hey, everyone!” you greeted with a warm smile. “After all the love we got for our last video, we decided to come back and do something a little different today. We’re doing a ‘Word Association Challenge’—but with a twist! Jack is going to give Daddy some words, and Toto has to say what he thinks they mean. Easy, right?”

Jack giggled, nodding eagerly. “Yeah! I’m gonna give Daddy the words!”

Toto chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Jack?” he teased, giving his son a playful look.

Jack beamed, but then leaned over to you, whispering, “Mama, I can’t read the words yet.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll whisper the words to you, and then you can tell them to Daddy, okay?”

Jack nodded, his confidence instantly returning. “Okay, I’m ready!”

You leaned in and whispered the first word into Jack’s ear. “Alright, tell Daddy the word is ‘drip.’”

Jack turned to Toto with an important expression on his face. “Daddy, the word is… ‘drip!’”

Toto’s brows knitted together, trying to piece it together. “Drip? Like when something is leaking? Water dripping?” he guessed, looking between you and Jack for some indication of whether he was on the right track.

Jack covered his mouth, his laughter bubbling over. “No, Daddy, it’s not about water!”

You laughed and chimed in, “No, ‘drip’ means having a really cool or stylish outfit. Like, ‘Check out his drip’ means someone is dressed really well.”

Toto’s expression turned thoughtful as he considered this. “So, if I say, ‘Lewis has some serious drip in the paddock today,’ would that be correct?”

Jack clapped his hands together, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, Daddy! You got it right!”

The crew chuckled, and you gave Toto a little nudge. “See, you’re getting it! You’ve got some ‘drip’ yourself,” you teased, tugging at the collar of his sharp, tailored suit.

Toto chuckled softly, looking down at his outfit. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, his smile growing.

You leaned in to Jack again, whispering the next word. “Okay, buddy, this one’s ‘salty.’”

Jack turned to Toto, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Daddy, the word is… ‘salty!’”

Toto squinted a bit, deep in thought. “Salty… Is it like when someone is annoyed or grumpy?” he ventured, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you for confirmation.

Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, and he gave a little jump. “Yes, Daddy, that’s it! It means someone’s being, like, grumpy or upset about something!”

You laughed and clapped along. “Look at you, two for two! I guess you’ve been around enough ‘salty’ engineers on bad race weekends to pick that one up,” you teased.

Toto smirked and nodded. “Yes, we’ve had our fair share of salty moments,” he agreed, leaning back in his chair.

Jack was practically bouncing with excitement now. “Okay, next one, Mama!”

You leaned in, whispering the next word in his ear. “Alright, tell Daddy the word is ‘simp.’”

Jack looked at Toto, his little face scrunched up in concentration. “Daddy, the word is… ‘simp.’”

Toto’s brow furrowed as he tried to decode the term. “Simp? Does it mean someone who is simple-minded or not very smart?” he asked, his confusion clear.

Jack giggled, shaking his head. “No, Daddy! It means someone who’s, like, really, really nice to someone they like or want to impress. Like, they do everything for them.”

You chuckled, watching Toto’s face as he processed this new information. “It’s like when someone is super sweet to their crush and does whatever they want,” you explained. “Or when you go out of your way to bring me coffee in the mornings because you know I love it. That’s you being a bit of a ‘simp.’”

Toto’s smile widened, and he gave a mock-offended gasp. “Well, if that’s what it means, then I’m quite happy to be called a ‘simp’ for you,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek, causing Jack to make a face and the crew to chuckle.

Jack jumped up and down, thrilled with his father’s progress. “You’re doing good, Daddy! One more, Mama!”

You leaned in close, whispering the final word. “Okay, buddy, the last word is ‘extra.’”

Jack turned to Toto, his expression very serious for this last round. “Daddy, the word is… ‘extra!’”

Toto sat back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Extra… Does it mean someone is doing too much? Being overly dramatic or enthusiastic?”

Jack’s eyes went wide with amazement. “Yes, Daddy! That’s right! It’s like when someone is just… too much!”

You laughed, clapping your hands together. “Well done, Toto! You’re really starting to understand the lingo!”

Toto grinned, looking pleased with himself. “I have excellent teachers,” he said, wrapping an arm around Jack and pulling him close. “And I think Jack might be a better instructor than some of our engineers.”

Jack giggled, snuggling into his father’s side. “Yeah, I’m the best teacher!”

You turned to the camera, still grinning. “Well, there you have it, folks! Toto Wolff, mastering Gen Z slang one word at a time. Should we do more of these videos? Let us know in the comments!”

Toto gave the camera a playful wink. “Maybe next time, Jack will teach me how to use all these words in a sentence properly,” he said, clearly enjoying himself.

Jack nodded eagerly. “Yeah! We can do it again! I like this!”

[hopefulstarfire]

Day 5!!! We got to day 5 of my valentines ship prompts yall!! I'm so excited!! This has been the most consistently I've been writing in. Shit. Months?? I'm just happy to be able to be this inspired and I'm like. 90% sure I'm gonna keep up with this and do monthly prompts 👀.

Prompt 13: Yearning

Had to do this one for sunflowershipping!! Because yeah it sure as hell takes them a while 🙄. But they're cute so.

Previous Prompts

Day One || Two || Three || Four

I hope you guys enjoy!

The assignment was to paint what your heart wanted the most.

Nana had most of her other projects for her area of her colleges student art gallery completed. She'd worked hard on them over the past year, pouring her heart and soul into each one. Every assignment, every new project, offered a new challenge, but she tackled each and everyone head on. This one would be no different.

...Except she found herself painting something she wasn't even sure if she could display.

Realistically, she could have painted something like herself being a psychologist and helping people through arts therapy. She could have painted the card shop, because her home and her little close knit family was where her heart was. Hell, she could have painted the symbol of friendship Téa had marked on all of their hands before Yugi Dueled Kaiba for the very first time.

She went with water colors, her favorite medium. The background, she had decided on being the colore of a sunrise; nothing motivated her more than getting up to go for her morning jog more than the excuse to see the sun peak as the sky painted itself vibrant golds, pinks and blues. Rather than clouds, she found herself making a border of gardenias; in a way, they almost looked like clouds. She'd read about their meanings before; clarity, trust, hope, dreams, and secret love renewal.

Then she started painting the center focus and, to her surprise, it became the figure of a different woman altogether.

It didn't sink in what she had done until the painting was complete. She had the subconscious thought guiding her, of course, playing pictures in her mind for reference and yet she still didn't process it until she saw the finished product;

Long black hair flowing in the wind. Gold jewelry decorating her arms, hands and neck. The soft features of her face, her hand resting above her chest, where the Necklace once had laid. And those eyes, those beautiful eyes she could have gotten lost in every time she saw her--

"Crap baskets." Nana sighed, head falling into her hands.

It was, apparently, no secret that she'd had quite a bit of romantic feelings for Ishizu. Most everyone in their friend group saw how her whole face would light up the second she saw her, or the dopey grin that came when Ishizu would laugh, a sound she heard far more often now, now that she was at a spot in her life where everything wasn't wrangling in disaster after disaster.

Everyone except Ishizu.

"I can't showcase this," she mumbled to herself, hands tugging at her long bangs as she finally raised her head. "It's too embarassing -- for her and for me. I should just...hide this in my closet until the end of time. Yeah, that sounds like a pl--"

Her phone went off and she practically leapt out of her seat to grab it; it would at least be a welcome distraction from --

"Hello, Nana!"

The redhead quickly shifted, sitting up and making sure she sat away from the painting, keeping out of frame as she tried to recover and manage a casual smile. "Hey, Ishizu! What's up?"

Ishizu seemed to be sitting in her office at the museum, if the bookshelves behind her were any indication. Nana had helped re-arrange, set up and take down several things in the museum for her for the last few months, and the office had been their little hideaway to drink tea and chat afterwards. Those were some of her favorite moments.

The other woman lifted something off her desk and proudly held up three tickets. "I was able to get my hands on tickets for my brother's and I to your art exhibit that's coming up!"

...Oh.

Oh no.

She really couldn't now.

Nana saw her cheeks flush red, almost hiding the constellations of freckles on her face. "Y--you really wanna come?"

"Of course," Ishizu said, giving her a smile. "You're a talented artist Nana, and you're our friend. We want to support you and your talent!"

She tucked her long bangs behind her ears, heart hammering in her chest. "T--thank you! Seriously. I...it really means the world to me that you guys do. Really." She cleared her throat, offering up a smile. "I can get to walk around and show you all some of the other pieces too. Everyone's been working really hard on these projects."

"I can't wait to see them," Ishizu mused, resting her cheek on her hand. "Professor Yoshimori made the comment that the art department professors are all singing you and the other students praises." Her smile only increased. "It'll be nice having an expert artist like yourself be able to guide us through and hear your views on the different pieces."

The redhead gave a sheepish laugh, free hand fidgeting now in her lap. "I wouldn't call me an expert or anything; I'm still just a student too," she told her. "But I'll be happy to get to talk about them! I always enjoy hearing you go in depth about all the pieces in the Egyptology wing; so I hope I can live up to your skillset!"

They talked for at least an hour more, the thoughts of the painting fading from her mind for that little span of time. She found herself relaxing, simply basking in the time with her and the dopey smile never left her face.

(If she'd actually let herself stop being so oblivious, she would have noticed the soft glances Ishizu stole, or the kind of smile that was only reserved for her. She would have realized the other woman was trying to test the waters, hint at her own interest. Yet, that time still had not come.)

It was late by her standards by the time they got off the phone and she let out a yawn. Her gaze caught the painting again and she sighed as she rose to her feet, looking it over.

"...I'll just handle this in the morning," she decided, hands on her hips. "I'll work on a new painting and everything."

Even if it wasn't directly from the heart. She just had to come up with anything else. She couldn't face the mortification or rejection she was so worried would happen or risk creeping Ishizu out.

She let out a yawn, arms stretching over her head. "Tomorrow." At least she had the day off from classes.

(She didn't expect to sleep in. She didn't expect her Grandpa to find the piece or the assignment sheet hanging up on her vanity mirror. She certainly didn't expect for him to take it off to her professor with it finished, so she could focus more on resting.

She didn't know what to do after that. Though, crawling under a rock had crossed her mind.)

[alloveroliver]

Satan x MC “Unrestrained."

Rating: Smut 18+

A|N: Uhhh, this is pure sin. <3 Immediately goes into smut + established relationship.

WC: ~4,000

Obey Me Fanfic

Her heavy breaths were the only sound filling the room. Satan’s lips crept up the side of her neck, gently trekking over every bit of warm skin. His chest was pressed against her back while his lips explored the curves and dips of her clavicle. His hands reached around her body and toyed with the buttons below her neck. 

She gasped when he pulled the first button free. A sound of supprised mixed with relief filled the quiet library. She was hot and only growing more heated with each deft touch Satan bestowed. The second button popped open, and she sighed. The heat had the means to escape her body now that the cool room air lapped at her scorching skin. 

Satan nuzzled close, his breath bringing chilled bumps to her pink skin. “If you keep making noises like that, we may be caught. You don’t want that, do you?” He punctuated the question with a nip at her lobe. 

She bit her lip and shook her head. She didn’t want a single second of his intimacy to go to waste. It was rare they were alone without any of his brothers or any imps catching up to them. The library was silent on the weekends, especially after the midterm they just had. There was no reason for anyone to be found here, especially this late in the evening. 

They felt at ease knowing they’d be alone. Any sounds, though, would surely alert anyone waltzing by. She bit her tongue when his palm dipped into her bra and cupped her sensitive breast. She knew she could keep quiet, but for how long? If she genuinely wanted to lose herself, it would be a challenge not to make a single peep. 

His strong hand gently kneaded her chest. He rested his forehead against her cheek while he switched from cupping her breast to teasing her nipple with his finger and thumb. He swapped back and forth until he moved to the other side. 

The sensation of his hand on her neglected breast made her falter. She stepped forward and grabbed the edge of the bookshelf. They were off in the corner in a specialty section for especially old books. Most of them looked like they’d never been touched, but somehow their papers looked as if they were stained with coffee. The musty scent of the dust hung low in the air, coating just the tops of the books. The front of the books looked well taken care of by the librarian, but there were far too many shelves in this place to make sure every book was pristine. 

“Part your knees.” Satan’s whisper was rasped as his warm breath spread over her skin down her shirt. Her top was obscured, exposing more cleavage than she’d ever dared to show. 

She did as he said and began to part her wobbling knees. Satan’s hand moved down over her navel and moved between her legs. It was like second nature to began grinding on his hand. Satan pushed his hips into her backside, rubbing his solid girth in time with her rip rotations. He kept a moan at bay, making a low hum in the back of his throat.

His lips met her neck and ear many times before he pulled his hand back lightning fast. He reached around her with both hands and unbuttoned her shorts. The sound of the zipper made them both pause and held their breath. It was louder than any noise they’d made thus far, and she felt her heart began to pound loudly in her ears. 

After a nervous moment, no other sound was detected. Satan shook off the notion that anyone heard them and dipped his fingers into her shorts. He slid along the front of her panties until he met the wet spot. 

He let in a sharp inhale and pressed his lips firmly to her ear. In the quietest whisper, he spoke. “You like the way I touch you, babe? You like it so much. You’ve ruined your pretty little panties. You like to act like you’re so innocent, but I know what makes you wet.” 

It was the raw emotion Satan spoke with that made another groan pass her lips. Abruptly she bit back the sound and pinched her mouth closed. He kissed her neck, and she could feel a wry smile stretch across his face. 

Satan’s tongue traced the crevasse of her neck while three of his fingers ran down her slit. Against her heated skin, she could feel her panties soak through even more. His fingers began to venture along the sides of the elastic that clung to her thighs. He ran his fingertips along the edge of her underwear and shivered. 

Changing his stance, Satan stood flesh against her back. His hardness rubbed along her back, making her ankles quaked at the thought of him taking her right here, right now. He kept swiping over her swollen clit with purpose, teasing her relentlessly. With every new touch, she grew closer and closer to climax. 

Her hips swayed as he removed his hand. His blond hair tickled the side of her face while he brought his hand up to her lips. The tips of his fingers moved over her bottom lip, and she could feel the moisture on his skin. 

He lightly chuckled and brought the fingers to his own mouth. He tasted just the tips and nuzzled the side of her face. “You taste so good. I want more.” 

His hand struck like a viper, dipping back into her shorts, and her knees almost gave out. If it weren’t for his other arm holding her upright, she might have been kneeling by now. Satan went inside her panties and ran one finger up and down her sex. 

“More..” She bucked her hips. “More, please.” 

“So polite, even to a demon.” He taunted, rubbing his pointed finger in circles over her slick entrance. “You want more, like this?” The tip of his finger dipped inside of her, and then he removed it again. “Hmm?” He hummed with a smirk.

“Y-yes..” She pushed her hips to coax him further. She was so hot, all of her skin burned. Her legs felt like jelly, and she wished she could collapse onto the floor with him. 

“What?” A new voice came from behind. 

Satan jerked his hand away from her, standing upright. He pushed her behind him and stood tall as if to hide her. The lights were out, but dim moonlight allowed the area to glow a gentle silver. They remained in the shadow while the footsteps grew closer. 

She grasped a handful of his shirt, hands shaking, hoping they wouldn’t find them. Satan looked mostly normal. His cheeks were flushed she could see, but his clothes were intact. Her clothes, however, were very much skewed and undone. It would be hard to explain her appearance away to whoever was bounding around the corner. 

“What kind of nerd do you have to be to be in the library on the weekend?” A familiar voice echoed off the stacks. 

“Unless they are hiding from someone,” A new voice answered. He giggled, and the other huffed. 

Satan felt behind him to make sure she was hidden while he adjusted himself. 

“Helloooo!” Levi’s evident voice rang into the specialty book section. 

Satan took a step toward him and scowled. “What do you want?” He crossed his arms. 

Asmo rounded the corner, took one look at Satan, and smiled. “Oh, hello, brother.” The edge of Asmo’s lips rose with a smirk. 

“What are you doing back here?” Levi questioned, brows knitted. 

“What does it matter?” Satan snapped, cheeks still red. 

Asmo peeked behind him and clasped his hands together. “I see,” 

“You see what?” Levi questioned. 

“Nothing nothing, Let’s go, Levi.” Asmo hooked onto his brother’s arm and began to pull him away. 

Satan looked even more perturbed by Asmo’s suggestive smile and eyebrow wiggle. He whirled around to his girlfriend and grabbed her hand. 

“Let’s go,” Satan murmured. 

“Is that-mmf” Asmo’s quick tug thwarted Levi's words. “Hey! What’s the big idea!”

She didn’t hear the rest of their little squabble as they rushed out of earshot. Satan snuck her out the side door of the library into a lesser-used hallway. There was a long walk from his room and were sure to be spotted by others on their way. She began to button her top up as they walked quickly down the hall. 

Another voice of someone seemingly talking on the phone began to grow near. 

“Dammit.” Satan spat. He looked just as flustered as she felt. 

She didn’t think she could make it that far anyway. The friction of her shorts rubbing aginst her center made her legs quake as she speed-walked. It was too much yet not enough at the same time. She knew she needed to find a new rendezvous spot and fast. There was no way either of their rooms was an option at this point. 

Looking around, she had an idea. She pulled Satan’s hand and brought him to a labeled door. She shushed him, and Satan nodded. The door opened easily, and they poured into the janitor’s closet lightning fast.

They slammed the door, and Satan ran his fingers through his golden hair. The adrenaline made them puff air in the small space. It was immaculate. Almost no supplies filled the racks. She wondered if this was used for the storage of extra items only. 

“There’s even a lock!” She spouted in surprise. Quickly Satan clicked the lock shut and whipped around. He bent down in a heated kiss and picked her up by the hips. She yelped, but Satan’s mouth muffled it. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked several paces toward the back of the closet. 

Satan sat her down atop the counter. It only housed a sink to the left and a tackle box to the right. The space was the perfect size for her to fit. She parted her lips, and his tongue moved to run along hers. 

He ran his hand up and down her back while he kissed her. He pressed his hips against her as he settled between her thighs. It was hard to sit up straight with the intensity of the kiss that she grasped fistfuls of his shirt. 

Satan bucked his hips into hers. She responded with her own thrusts, and soon they were grinding on one another in sync. He wore a simple black button-up shirt, and she made it her mission to rid her boyfriend of the offending garment. With half concentration, she made her way down his chest, unbuttoning each button along the way. 

His carved chest came into view, and she broke the kiss to glance down. Her hand moved along his abs as she pulled him in for another searing kiss. Satan’s eyes were deep dark blue, the color of the hottest fire. His golden hair dangled to his nose, casting a shadow over his brow. 

She moved her hands lower and lower until she cupped his hardened cock that strained against his jeans. Satan groaned and let her grope him for a minute before he backed off. She blinked several times, watching him kneel before her. His shirt hung open yet still clung to his broad shoulders.

He cut his dark eyes up to hers and unbuttoned her shorts once again. Satan then kissed her knee as he unzipped them. He tugged the loose shorts to her ankles and removed them entirely. He dropped them to the floor and began kissing her knee once again. He moved his mouth up her thigh, up and up until he began to lick her essence that dripped past her panty line. 

Satan moaned along her skin, sending a shiver up her spine. His teeth grazed the cloth that covered her sex. He nipped at licked at the soaked fabric until she tossed her head back. 

In a flash, his fingers hooked the elastic of the panties. They were whipped down her legs and tossed behind his shoulder in a flash. Satan’s face immediately buried between her legs. She covered her mouth with one hand and ran the other in his silky locks. She felt Satan’s head move with every lick. 

He lapped at the juices of her slit, sucking the swollen lips until her eyes rolled back. The act only produced more lubricant allowing his tongue to dip into her hole that much easier. Her legs clamped together, but she forced them to relaxed open in hopes that he wouldn’t stop. 

Her hand tightened in his hair as she clenched her jaw. “Higher, oh higher!” 

He hadn’t made to where she wanted it the most, and yet she felt her clit throb with every touch of his mouth on her folds. 

Playfully, he nipped along her sex, making sure his tongue touched every inch of her cunt before making it to the desired spot. Instead of quick movements, his tongue swirled over her clit slowly and methodically. 

“Oh…. fuck!” She moaned loudly into the small space, tossing her head back to rest along the wall. Her hair began to stick to her forehead and nape of her neck as the temperature grew. 

The slow movements along her cunt to her clit prolonged the release she’d been racing toward. It felt incredible yet made her impatient at the same time. Satan knew she was close, and yet he teased her still. His tongue made another slow swipe over the helpless nub, and she whimpered. 

His large hand left her thigh and roamed upwards to her breast. He cupped her chest, pushing the fabric askew. With his mouth on her cunt, he managed to pull her top down her shoulder and expose her left breast. He squeezed her chest and licked her cunt at the same time,  ceasing her breath in her throat.

Satan’s lips encapsulated her clit and he began to suck lightly. His tongue teased the tip while his lips moved back and forth. The way her hips pushed into him became ragged while she moaned “Yes yes yes yes, right there,” 

He released the pressure on the sucking sensation and began to run his tongue up and down her slit. After several swipes, he paused at the top make a U shape with his tongue. She gasped and held his hair in a death grip. 

“Close, so close!” She yelped, letting her back slumped against the wall. 

He moved the U shape faster and faster until her thighs began to close around his head. Satan cut his eyes up to hers, and she noticed how dazed he looks. He was under the same spell she was, seeking primal pleasure from the one they loved. Her pussy pulsed against his lips and her thighs trembled with every throb. Her words were garbled, but she warned him she was cumming over and over until every wave of bliss ceased.

He stood to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. His eyes locked with hers, and he bent down to press a hot kiss to her lips. Her body felt like jelly in the aftershock, making it impossible for her to sit upright. 

She gasped into his kiss while his hand came up to the back of her neck. He held her head upright when she couldn't.  Satan nipped at her bottom lip, and she hurriedly moved to unbutton his pants. Satan’s pants were almost too tight to unbutton, but she managed to unclasp then unzip them in one fell swoop. 

With deft fingers, he unbuttoned her shirt and opend the garment for his liking. He pulled the cups of her bra down to expose both breasts to him. He only cupped them with his hands while his mind went elsewhere. She stroked him slowly, feeling how impossibly hard he already was. Satan squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against hers. His cock wept precum, making each stroke more audible than the last. 

His lips move down her neck, kissing her along the way until he met her chest. He teased her nipples with his tongue, gently grazing the nub with his teeth until she mewled. He then moved to the neglected breast and did the same thing. 

The angle she stroked him at wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to enjoy it just as much as any other position. 

“O-” He cleared his throat, “Open your legs more,” He was breathless, chest heaving for oxygen. 

She did as he asked, relaxing her thighs wide for him. Satan’s lips moved along her shoulder to her neck while he lined his cock up with her entrance. He pressed his forehead into her throat as if to steady himself. 

The pressure made her eyes grow wide as the tip of his cock stretched her. Her cunt squeezed against his girth the deeper he slid into her. Satan gasped when her walls clamped down on him. He was trying to keep his cool for as long as he could, making sure her body was amply ready for him to begin thrusting.  

“Fuck me,” Her voice broke the silence, and Satan’s face jerked up to look at her. His eyes were so filled with lust she thought he was almost unrecognizable.

“Getting bolder, I see,” His usually teasing tone was gone. He spoke in a low, sultry voice making her heart jump in her chest. 

She gulped, trying to will her head to nod. Satan’s lips quirked up as he moved closer to her ear. His nose ran along her cheek on the way, making her skin feel even hotter than before. 

“Do you see the position I have you in?” He asked while grabbing both sides of her hips and jerking forward. “I’m the one in control, not you. It’s always been me in control. Do you hear me?” His words dripped sensually from his lips. 

“Please, Satan.” She began. She tried to buck her hips, but he held her in place while his cock remained halfway inside her. “Please fuck me. I’m ready.”

He tisked and dug his fingers deeper into her skin. “Are you now?” 

She nodded eagerly, feeling his lips hover just above her ear. He huffed and nipped at her ear lobe. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you’re ready for what I want to do to you?” 

Her brows rose, yet she nodded affirmatively still. Whatever Satan had in store for her, she was ready. At this point in their relationship, she’d do anything for him it seemed, anything to please him or gain pleasure from him.

A deep rumble rose in the back of his throat. In one thrust, he buried himself fully into her. He gasped as he gained just as much pleasure from the motion as she had. Satan pulled back from her and held her knees open. He stood with his shirt falling off his shoulder and his eyes looking down at her disastrous state. He backed up and thrust again, and again, watching his cock disappear into her slick cunt. 

“I’ve never seen your pussy this puffy for me before. You’re so fucking wet, babe. Your body craves me, doesn’t it?” He asked his question breathlessly. His hand released one of her knees and moved the caress the lip of her cunt. He moved his hips in a moderate pace while his thumb press onto her clit. 

“Oh!” She cried out, reaching out to grab his arm.

“What’s the matter? You were begging me to touch your clit earlier. Are you sensitive?” He teased, swirling big circles over the nub. 

It sent jolts through her body that left a wave of pleasure in their wake. 

“Gah,” Her thighs began to clamp together, and Satan shook his head. 

“I thought you were ready for me to fuck you.” He taunted again, moving his hips faster against her cunt. “Tell me you want me to keep going.”

Her eyes were screwed shut as she willed her legs to relax. The extra touches to her clit were too much but still felt incredible. Satan slowed down his thrusting and began using two fingers to rub along her clit. 

“K-Keep going,” She managed. “Don’t stop,” 

“Do you like this?” He asked sincerely, not stopping his touches. 

“Yes, yes, I do. I’m just... I’m so sensitive.” 

“I know,” He began to move his hand away from her clit. “I know, I can feel you squeezing my cock, and I like it. It just feels so good to me.” 

The overstimulation was soon missed after that statement. She wished he wouldn’t stop touching her spent clit, but Satan was already moving to her pert nipple. He rolled the nub in his fingers, and she gasped. 

Satan moaned as he sped up, slipping into her easily with how turned on she was. Gentle sounds of skin hitting skin filled the small closet with every thrust. 

She looked up at him, and Satan bent down to her. They kissed sloppily as he sped up, fucking her harder and faster than before. Her hand moved to hug his back, and they adjusted their position to be closer. Her nails began to dig into his skin with how blinding the pleasure became. 

With every sensual thrust, his cock hit her gspot at the perfect angle to make her see stars. He hummed as he hung his head into her neck. She opened her eyes for a moment and watched his muscles flex and contract. Veins became defined along with his sculpted muscles the harder he worked for his own release. His abs cut perfectly into an arrow shape around his hips, making him look incredibly sexy in his current state. 

Satan’s thrusts began to falter while his moans became louder. She began to match his push with her hips seeking her own pleasure in the mix. 

“Cum,” He groaned, “Cum for me again.” 

She felt a wave of heat rush over her when she realized how determined his voice was. It didn’t take but a few more seconds for her to let go and allow the rush of pleasure to overtake her. She felt her cunt throb against his girth, and they both moaned together.

As she came down from the rush, Satan pulled out and quickly stroked himself. He warned her before he began cumming on her chest and stomach. He rocked his hips, stroking slower and slower until his shoulders fell. 

She moved to hug him, allowing him to relax into her arms. He hugged her back, and their panting filled the room. 

Minutes passed, and Satan began running his fingers through her hair. 

“Sorry for the impromptu location.” She let out a breathless laugh into his shoulder. 

“It’s fine. I was trying to take you to my room.” Satan let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t think I could have made it that long.” 

“Me neither,” He confessed, lips pressing against her warm cheek. “It was really hot how you took the initiative though and pulled me in here. I was impressed.” 

“Would you have done anything like this in the library? You know, before Asmo and Levi ruined it,” She wondered out loud, playing with a strand of his hair. 

“Mmm, I would have tried.” He laughed. 

“Do,” She took a deep breath “Do you want to go to your room anyway? To maybe clean up a bit.”

He smiled and kissed her lips gently. “We could save water, and you could shower with me.” He winked playfully and let out a mischievous laugh. 

“If it’ll save water.” She responded, biting her lip.

“Oh? You are insatiable,” He nipped at her bottom lip flirtatiously. 

.

.

.

Thank you @peacheat , for your suggestion for the two to interrupt them based on the post I made! I appreciate you!

Thank you guys so much for reading, hope you have a good day! 

Personal Note: I’ve had a bit of a writer’s block lately but no lack of ideas just unable to write them cuz of these stupid high standards I was giving myself. I heard some advice recently that pertained to art but also pertains to writing fics as well. 

“Not every piece of art you make needs to be good. Not every piece of art needs to be a masterpiece. It’s okay to just have a good time creating something and not worry if it’s up to your own standards. Make as much as you can and eventually good stuff will come out. But, if you don’t make the bad stuff, you won’t make the good stuff either.” - Dahli Raz

Idk who else needs to hear that but this will be something I live by now <3

[maxismatchccworld]

Welcome back to our latest - and last! - Deep Dive into the gameplay of The Sims 4 Nifty Knitting Stuff Pack. I’ve really enjoyed sharing the designs and development of this pack with you, and I hope to continue doing these sorts of posts in the future. It’s been a super cool experience, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading these! In today’s post I’ll talk about the feature that is core to everything in this pack, Knitting! Once again, I have to remind you that we’re still in active development on the pack and so some things may change between now and the final game. Now, let’s talk about some nifty knits!

READ IT I PROMISE YOU GONNA LIKE IT!

In order to start knitting, you’ll need to purchase a Yarn Basket from the Build/Buy catalog. You probably remember voting on these baskets a while back. This was the winning design, presented to you now in all its colorful glory! Don’t like color? That’s okay, because we included a solid black and white variant.

We have one more knitting basket coming too! Remember this one?

The basket acts as the crafting catalyst(neat term, huh?) similar to the Easel or Woodworking Bench in The Sims 4 base game. But unlike those examples, the Yarn Basket is meant to live in a Sim’s inventory so that they can take their knitting anywhere they want to go. Knitting itself is relatively straightforward: click on the Yarn Basket in your inventory, OR, with the basket in your inventory, click on the chair you want to sit in while knitting (perhaps a rocking chair?) and select the Knit interaction. Your projects are saved to your Sim, so you can pause your progress at any time and resume later, and even juggle multiple projects at once. Starting a project costs a small amount of Simoleons for the cost of yarn, but nothing too outrageous.

(Children can knit too!) As a Sim levels up their knitting skill they’ll have access to new patterns. They’ll start with knitting socks and beanies, but as they grow more skilled they can tackle more challenging projects like sweaters and toys for kids. But if you only want to specialize in one thing - perhaps knitted mailbox cozies? - that's fine too! Just keep knitting anything and everything, and you’ll be level 10 before you know it. Speaking of knitting skill, sometimes your skill is reflected in your knitted work, or rather your lack of skill. Knitting projects can fail, and when they fail they can get weird. But it’s all subjective, and maybe you’ll end up accidentally knitting the cutest derpy companion, or the perfectly itchy sweater. No mistakes, only happy accidents!

(Just own it.) One of the niftiest parts of the knitting skill is unlocking the ability to Teach to Knit, where Sims sit down together and have a knitting pow-wow. We wanted this to feel special, so we got a really sweet animation for it (Thanks Haeju!). Now that you can infect other Sims with the knitting bug, no yarn ball will be safe!

(The knitting needles aren’t finished on the Teach To Knit interaction yet, but trust me it's SUPER CUTE.) So, what can you do with all these knitting projects? Lots of stuff! Not only can knitted objects be listed on Plopsy, but you can also Donate them to charity. If you want to surprise a loved one, try Gifting a knitted object too. If you want to destroy all traces of your knitted failures, you can Frog the object and start again! If it's a particularly nice Sweater that you made, consider Adding it to Wardrobe to make it available in Create-A-Sim to all family members.

(Everyone appreciates a nice gift!) We want Sims to be able to knit something for their whole family. Not only will Sims be able to knit Toddler Onesies, but Baby Onesies as well. So put your little grubworm in a handmade knitted outfit. I’m sure they’d thank us if they could! (And if they didn’t like it I’m sure they’d be polite about it.)

(Here’s a sneak peek at some of the concept art for new clothing for the littlest of Sims!) It also felt like a good idea to add an Aspiration to tie this passion for knitting all together. So if you want to master the fuzzy art of knitting, consider signing your Sim up for the Lord(or Lady) of the Knits Aspiration. With yarn running through your veins, there will be no knitting mountain too hard to conquer! Master the Aspiration and you’ll be rewarded with the Sacred Knitting Knowledge trait. What does it do? Lots of stuff! What does it unlock? Something special! Am I being vague? I am! Come on guys, I can’t share all the secrets quite yet.

As I’ve mentioned previously, we’re trying to get as much cross-pack functionality for knitting as we can. Cats can play with Yarn Baskets and Yarn Balls, there will be new Club rules for Knitting, new class electives at University, and knitting counts for Emotional Control, just to name a few. I’m hoping Knitting feels nice and snug alongside our other gameplay systems. Now let's have a chat with our lead Object Modeler, Beth Mohler! Conor: Can you tell us a little bit about what an Object Modeler does on The Sims 4? Beth: As an object modeler I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to make objects work in The Sims 4. This is actually a very involved process, and somewhat different from the wonderful work our environment team does. We work with designers, concept artists, engineers, animators, vfx artists (basically everyone!) to make sure that Sims can use an object properly in an animation, or that all of our objects will work with each other. Once we understand the design for a new object, we will create a rig, a block model (a very generic version of the object used to help us make more of the same object in the future), and a footprint (tells us where the object can go and how Sims move around it). Once those are tested by animators and other disciplines we can model the final version, create UVs, and add textures. We also hook up and test everything in the game to make sure it all looks good. There is a lot to think about when it comes to making objects because we know players can find so many interesting ways to place and use them in game. That makes it a very fun challenge to make them work with everything else we’ve built before. Conor: What feature are you most excited to work on in Nifty Knitting Stuff? Beth: I’d say I am most excited to work on the rocking chairs! I love that we are bringing them to the game and can’t wait to see them in some cozy living rooms or on porches. Conor: What are some of the challenges you are facing working on this pack? Beth: One of the biggest challenges is ensuring that the knitting itself looks good and is fun to watch! This is a challenge given that it needs to work for everything you can create. Figuring this out takes a lot of iteration between modeling, animation, engineering, design, and art direction so that we come to a conclusion that will work the best given our time and technical constraints. Another interesting “challenge” is the fact that I crochet as a hobby myself! When you are knowledgeable about something (yarn!) in real life, working on it in the game it can sometimes be hard to separate the things you know and may expect in reality from what is possible or best within a video game. I have to make sure to keep a balance and to conceptualize how we can best convert the knitting experience into The Sims 4. As someone who also generally enjoys interior design and architecture, this is actually one of my favorite challenges and one of the things I love about working on objects in The Sims 4. Conor: What is your favorite feature you have ever worked on in The Sims 4? Beth: I think it has to be a tie between the mini fridge or the robotics table in Discover University. That pack was the first time I got to really take an entire feature from start to finish. I’ve been with Maxis for a while, but I’m relatively new to The Sims 4. Both of these objects had some complex features we wanted that required a lot of iteration. I learned a ton about the technical aspects of our game during the process as well. I’ve also worked on a few very cool things between then and now, but those can’t be shared yet ; ) As a fan of The Sims since the very beginning I am so happy to be able to share a little about what I do on a daily basis on The Sims 4 with you! I haven’t been on The Sims 4 for quite as long overall, but some of you may also recognize me from my time on Sims Mobile where I shared some of our workflows on Twitter for making a juice bar. Thanks! Conor: You shared a screenshot of the In-Progress Rocking Chair in our Rocking Chair Deep Dive. Can you share an updated screenshot now that the Rocking Chair is further along? Beth: I would love to! I hope everyone has been enjoying seeing the progress on this object so far! Here it is a little further along. This program allows us to set the rules for the object materials, footprint size and rig it should use, as well as all the color variants and swatch colors you see in the catalog.

Thanks Beth! By the way, Beth is on Twitter @SimGuruBeth, so be sure to Follow her! And thanks to all of you Simmers for following this pack’s development, this has been a really fun project in a very crazy time. A big thank you to my Stuff Pack teammates, and especially SimGuruSarah who edited my inane ramblings and wrangled the miscellaneous bits for these posts. While this concludes my design Deep Dives, we still have more forum posts with development insights on the way! Keep checking the Community Stuff Pack forum and we’ll have more fun stuff to show off in the weeks to come. Until next time, SimGuruConor

Source: The Sims Forum

[widdlefangs]

Platonic 

Pairing: Bobby x ChildhoodFriend!MC Words: 1.7k Notes: Ok full disclosure I’ve used this for other fandoms but I just felt like it was so relevant to Bobby. I guess I’m doing fics now so maybe send me prompts or smth and I’ll jot some fics down. Headcanons too. 

Bobby clicked his pen for what seemed like the umpteenth time during this whole study session. He stared as his study buddy bit her lip at an equation she’s been writing yet again. She scribbled furiously before scratching it out with a frustrated groan. She leaned back on her chair and slumped with a whimper escaping her lips. Bobby nudged her foot with his own under the table.

“Hey,” he comforted his friend, “Come on, you need to take a break.”

He bounced off his chair and walked towards her small kitchen. Bobby found pride in the fact that he knows his way around like it’s his own. He got her stash of peppermint tea at the top left corner cabinet right beside the Christmas mugs. He hooked a foot on the lower cabinet where her small spoons were. He plugged the water heater at the bottom socket because the top sparked since he plugged a hair blower there once in one of their all nighters. With pronounced ease, he prepared the exact blend of tea he knew she loved with the precision of a friend who knew her inside out. He leaned back and watched her wallow in the pages of her book whilst the water boiled.

He was her friend. No, he was her best friend (he hoped, if no other human would agree to buying her tampons if she can’t leave the house). She was most definitely his best friend, none can deny that. Bottomline is, for the majority of their lives, it has always been platonic. Painfully platonic. 

It doesn’t matter if she cuddles between his legs on her couch whenever they watch Ghibli. It doesn’t matter if he strips butt naked in front of her as they change for a night out. It doesn’t matter if his parents already set up her clothes in Bobby’s closet and her toothbrush beside his. She and he shall be perpetually…just platonic. Sighing, he pushed the off button before it lit red knowing that she hated scalding her tongue.

He wondered how they’ve gotten here. There was a project once back in grade school where they were asked to write where they see themselves in twenty years. She was there in every paragraph, in every line, in every sentence in his write up. She was what came up to his mind when one would ask him who he envisions to be his wife someday. And that image hasn’t changed since. Perhaps it took root from the innocence of childhood��how hugging and cuddling and touching in general was deemed platonic in children, that’s why she’s gotten to used to it— but as respectable adults, it just seemed like he was doing all the responsibilities of a boyfriend without getting the benefits of one.

He shook his head at the thought of how hopeless he was. Someday, she’ll find a man that can’t love her half as much as he did. And she’ll think he’s the one. And someday he’ll find her cuddled up with him on her couch as he sits by at the other end just because he’s the best friend.

He felt a pair of slim arms wrap around his waist and a button nose nuzzle the back of his shoulder. Exactly  the type of behaviour he’d been elaborating in his head earlier.

“I smelled the tea.”

“I know you did, you can’t resist me.” he chuckled sadly. After knowing Bobby since childhood, she knew there was a matter of glumness in his tone. She tugged on his waist, urging him to face her.

“Don’t even bother telling me you’re all right. Spill it.” she looked up at him.

“Spill what?” he cocked an eyebrow, taking a sip at her teacup.

“Don’t spill what me, McKenzie. I know something is up with you,” she said, taking her tea from his hand and gingerly nursing it between her fingers.

“Nothing is up with me,” his mouth quirked, taking his own cup and smiling at her with tired eyes.

She frowned at that. Pursing her lips as she leaned on the kitchen island across him. He knitted their toes together while sipping his tea. He reached for the side of the refrigerator and took out the rest of the chocolate cake he baked from yesterday. Grabbing a fork, he pushed off the counter to lean into her, one arm supporting his weight on the counter his other balanced the two slices of cake on a plate. She placed her head on the crook of his shoulder out of habit. There she goes again.

“Tell you what, if you finish your slice first, I’ll spill.”

She gave him a bewildered look and he used that to his advantage by shoving the slice in his mouth. She quickly caught on and started stuffing her face with cake as well. In an effort to win, he shoved his entire piece in his mouth and grabbed the rest of hers and made a run for it.

“Can’t finish your slice now, can you?” he sputtered, mouth full of cake. Bobby jumped on her couch, nesting on it like a hawk. She protested below him, cheeks all puffed up in cake.

“Bobby I swear, I’m not afraid to push you off!” she stomped, barely able to speak.

“Oh yeah? Prove it!”

And that was all it took for him to be tackled to the floor with her straddling him. She had a wild look as she reached for the crumbled cake and ate it off his hand. He revelled in the feeling of her mouth around his fingers, he’d like to feel that more often. It was down to a battle of chewing. The first one to swallow wins. She planted her hands on his chest and narrowed her eyes at him as she chewed the food in her mouth furiously, even if it did make her look like a deranged animal. It’s not like they weren’t twenty-two year olds rolling around on the floor on a lopsided food eating contest.

She swallowed first. He let her. “Aha! I win. Now spill.”

He was still chewing, albeit leisurely now. He placed a hand on her hip as a sign to wait. She didn’t seem to mind the intimate gesture. He finally swallowed.

Taking a deep breath— for the confession and his hurting throat— he spilled.

“I was thinking how much I love how we’re so platonic. Even if I’m practically your boyfriend—no, your husband, with all that we’ve been doing.”

She gave him an incredulous look. Bobby can’t believe that this moment was where all his years of platonic relationship lead up to.

“That’s it? I wrestled you for that?”

He bit his lip—hurt that she reacted the way she did. The way she always would. She degraded his feelings—feelings that have in fact been pent-up for years. He was sick of it. Absolutely sick of it.

“Do you think what we have is platonic?” he spoke up. She noted the tone of a challenge in his voice. There was hurt there too. Unable to look straight into his eyes, she turned away.

“If someone walked into this room right now and see us, would they think we’re platonic? You’re straddling me in your pyjamas while I’m in my boxers and you think this is platonic?”

She gulped.

“I’m so tired. Tired of pretending that there’s nothing here,” he pushed.

“Bobby— I

In truth she didn’t know what to tell him, or how. There was just too much history between them.

“Could you tell me right now, to my face, that you don’t love me. If you can say that right now, I swear, I’ll let it go. I won’t ever bring up the topic ever again,”  he declared. There was an almost violent beating in his chest. An anxiety that couldn’t be quelled with anything but her words.

His heart clenched when she couldn’t reply to him. It spurned his anger even further.

With everything on the line, he kissed her. He kissed with all the fervour he’d been wanting since he met her. Bobby knew that this wasn’t how he wanted to reveal his feelings. He knew that this could very well end as a nightmare for the both of them.

Until he suddenly felt it. Her hands weaving into his hair like how he’d always imagined. Her lips pressing back with as much ardour. Her body curling into his as she kissed him. She kissed him. Back.

They stayed there for who knows how long, just lingering in the shade of the night, enjoying each other’s company in a whole other light. Finally, he broke away—he still had a point to make.

“Now did you think that was platonic?”  he murmured, a little breathless.

His spine was tingling, his hands a bit shaky, the world was spinning and the point of intersection was her. Innately her. Hers all along. It was her.

She muttered something incoherent, a little smile tugging on the sides of her lips and his heart leapt with joy. He tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her shoulder and kissed the skin that was revealed to him. He’d always wanted to kiss her there. It’s not like it hasn’t been accessible, on the contrary, it was a tease for him. To know that he could get so close and yet he couldn’t touch.

He released his meanderings and breathed on her skin, feeling  her shiver reverberate to his hands. It made him deliriously happy. “How about that? Was that platonic?”

She shook her head a little. Bobby allowed his hands to travel down her back like he has done so for the past thirteen years, but none so as leisurely as he did now.

“Can I ask if this is platonic?” she whispered and kissed the length from his ear to his jawline and latched on to the hollow of his neck. Bobby hadn’t meant to, but he groaned.

“Yeah that’s very platonic. Friends do that all the time.” he struggled to create coherent sentences with all the emotions swirling inside him. She leaned on her elbows and smiled at him.

“You know, Bobby, I love how we’re so platonic.”

“I love how we’re so platonic too.”

[lovelylogans]

syzygy

warnings: miscommunication, bed sharing, joking about having anxiety, kissing/romantic content, let me know if i’ve missed anything!

pairings: logan/virgil/patton, analogicality

words: 4838

notes: we’re now allowed to reveal: this is for the secret santa’s over at @sanderssantas! this fic is for @mydarkstrangeson, who requested any combination of patton, logan, and virgil, and childhood sweethearts, college au, and friends to lovers! i have decided to tackle all of them! this was probably overambitious of me, but i loved, loved, LOVED writing this for you, so! happy holidays! 

If he were at all inclined toward analogy (he is not) he would compare his relationship with Patton and Virgil to a syzygy. 

It’s an astronomical term. From the ancient Greek, suzugos, yoked together. Three or more celestial bodies in a gravitational system. Usually in reference to the sun, earth, and moon, with the latter in conjunction or opposition. 

More often than not, they are in conjunction—the same right ascension, the same ecliptic longitude. There is an implication of apparent close approach—their appulse is at its very minimum.

Of course, it is an illusion. They are not actually close to one another, in space. Almost nothing is close to each other, in space. The vastness of space has been confounding humankind for millennia. It will continue to confound. 

That is where the analogy falls apart. He’s sure that Patton or Virgil could come up with better ones. But then, he is not inclined toward analogy. It’s simply a thought exercise. Nothing more.

(If he has, perhaps, spent a few moments thinking of Virgil, dark hair glinting silver in the moonlight, and Patton, freckles grown more intense by the sunlight, turning his curls golden, well. That’s simply a thought exercise too. He supposes that would make him the earth—steady, consistent, predictable. Perhaps a bit dull in comparison. Fitting enough.)

There is also the concept that, in the literal sense, they are often close together. They cycle throughout their rooms—usually, they split the time evenly between Patton’s room, as it is cozy and well-decorated and has plenty of alternatives for sitting that aren’t just the ground, and Logan’s room now that it’s winter, as his room is warmest, but less time now in Virgil’s room, as it’s coldest—and, well. They have been friends for as long as Logan can remember. 

They’re close together now—Patton’s room, currently, as he has the most alternatives to seating and by far the most traditionally “cozy” environment—Logan’s at the desk, and he hears the clack-clack-clack of Patton’s knitting needles and the occasional huffing exhale that means Virgil’s reading something funny online. 

“Logan, the time,” Patton chides softly, and Logan grimaces, only because he’s certain Patton won’t see. 

“I’ll stop when I reach a convenient time.”

“You said that an hour ago,” Virgil points out, voice soft, grumbly, a little lazy—he must be tired, he’d been tossing and turning last night.

(It helps Virgil sleep, as he frequently stays up late fretting, and Patton seems to think that holding him down in some way will prevent him staying up late to study. It probably isn’t normal for three roommates to sleep in the same bed more often than not, but, well. The reasoning is sound.)

“You don’t need to stay up for me,” Logan says, turning slightly in his desk chair to see—Virgil’s lying at the foot of Patton’s bed, head resting on one of Patton’s many throw pillows (he’s probably putting some people on Etsy through college with his frequent pun-pillow purchases, it’s only kind of a problem) as Patton leans against the headboard, rainbow titanium knitting needles paused, for a moment. He’s trying for socks. He has never succeeded. They’ll unravel eventually. It does not stop Patton from trying.

“Yeah, we do, you and Virgil need to debate over who gets middle spoon tonight,” Patton says cheerfully. 

Patton almost always takes, to use the terminology, the big spoon, despite the fact that he is the shortest. However, he does give the best hugs, which makes up for any height deficiencies. Logan has a variety of data to back up the Patton-gives-the-best-hugs claim. There’s a spreadsheet involved.

However, he and Virgil never quite make up their minds when it comes to who takes middle or littlest spoon, and so—

“You can decide, Virgil,” Logan says mildly, turning back to his desk. “I don’t mind which. I don’t mind you going to sleep before me, either. I can go to my room to work.”

“You’ve been working all day today,” Patton says. “Finals don’t mean that you give up on healthy habits.”

“Uh-oh, he’s got that look on his face,” Virgil says, voice teasing. “He’s gonna start rambling about things that are really, blatantly wrong until you rush up and finish and we all start getting ready for bed.”

“...That doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Virgil says. “Patton, wouldn’t you say that sounds like a challenge?”

“I dunno, it sounds like as much of a challenge as recalculating that gyroscope,” Patton says cheerfully.

Logan pauses, curious, before he realizes that’s exactly what he wants and he forces his eyes to focus back on his laptop screen and resumes typing.

“What gyroscope, Patton?”

“Why, the laser gyroscope those flat-earthers tried to use in an experiment.”

“I know about this already,” Logan says, still refusing to turn, even though his eye is beginning to twitch at the sheer idea of flat-earthers.

"Mhm,” Patton says. “And, I mean, that gyroscope showed that... um, what’s it called?”

“Shift.”

“Flow.”

“Thrust.”

“Course.”

“Transferral.”

“Drift,” Logan bites out. “Gyroscopes show a drift when it leans off-axis.”

“Uh-huh,” Patton says, pleased. “But, I mean. They did it wrong.”

Don’t say a word, don’t say a word, don’t say a word...

“They did that whole light thing, but that proves nothing. I mean, cause, obviously,” Patton says, “They spent about twenty thousand bucks on that gyroscope, but really, all you need to know on how the earth is flat is to just look at the horizon—”

It’s bait. Logan knows it’s bait. And yet—

“The horizon looks flat because the massive size of the Earth necessitates it looks small in proportion to us,” Logan says, striking furiously at his keyboard to finish his sentence and save his word file. “The Earth has an average diameter about eight thousand miles, in an estimate, and we aren’t able to make out the curves because—”

“Got him,” Virgil says, suddenly a lot closer than usual, and double-checking the file is saved before he slams Logan’s laptop shut.

“I wasn’t done with—!”

“Tomorrow is a new day and you can work on it then,” Virgil says, before securing his hands under Logan’s armpits and hauling him to his feet. “C’mon.”

“Bedtime, bedtime, bedtime,” Patton sings, already gathering up his pajamas and dancing his way into his bathroom, closing the door behind him with a click. 

Logan looks longingly at his laptop, before he says, “There’s no point in resuming my work, is there?”

“Nope, we’ll just stop you again,” Virgil says. “He watched that flat-earther documentary two days ago, I’m sure he’s got plenty of material to keep this up.”

Logan sighs. He scoops his laptop into his arms, and he goes back to his room. He plugs in his laptop and his phone and gets ready for bed—pajamas, brushed teeth, washed face. 

He returns to Patton’s room to see Virgil sitting on Patton’s bed, eyes closed as Patton smears some kind of moisturizing... something-or-other on his face, and Logan feels a slightly worrying swell in his chest region—the only reason it isn’t fully worrying is because it’s been doing that when he sees Patton and Virgil together for years.

“...I mean, you really should hydrate more, that’ll help your skin, and it’s winter so everyone’s getting dry skin, ya know?” Patton says, continuing whatever conversation they’d been having, and then his face brightens at the sight of Logan, making grabby hands. “Logan! C’mere, lemme smear goo on your face, I accidentally squeezed out too much.”

Logan sits on the bed, hands Virgil his glasses, and obligingly closes his eyes. There’s the sound of Virgil setting his glasses on the nightstand, and then Patton’s hands are on his face. The lotion—or goo, Logan supposes—smells pleasantly of chamomile. It’s a little cool, but Patton’s hands warm it up soon enough. Patton rubs the lotion into his face in soft, circular motions, humming softly, and the sensation of it, the comfort of it, would be enough to send Logan to sleep. 

“All right, you’re moisturized,” Patton says, and Logan opens his eyes to see Patton smoothing the remnants of the goo into his hands. 

“Middle spoon?” Virgil says.

Logan shrugs. “I don’t have a particularly strong opinion either way.”

“Are we doing the spoon thing tonight?” Patton asks. “There’s a lot of other ways to snuggle.”

“I don’t have a particularly strong opinion either way,” Logan repeats.

“Virgil?”

“Nope.”

“Okay!” Patton says brightly, and flops down on his back, lifting up his arms. “Get in here, we haven’t done the whole Human Pillow thing in a minute.” 

Patton has a variety of ridiculous terms for their body placements at night. It should not be as endearing as it is.

Logan and Virgil meet eyes, as if to roll them at each other, but they’re really just exchanging an ah, that’s our Patton kind of look, and so Logan settles under the covers before he rolls onto his side, placing his head on Patton’s chest, and Virgil shuts off the light. There’s the adjustment of covers that means that Virgil is settling in a mirror position.

And then—

“I love this,” Patton says happily. “It’s like a sleepover!”

“You say that every night,” Virgil says, like every night. 

“And every night it’s true,” Patton says, like every night.

“And every night, we exchange this dialogue,” Logan says, like every night. It’s dark, so no one can see him smiling.

“I mean, we’ve had sleepovers for forever,” Patton says. “Do you remember our first one?”

“Our first one was when we were babies and our moms were all snowed into my house,” Logan says. “According to legend, anyway.”

“Mm, I know,” Patton says. “But, I mean—what’s the first one you remember?”

Logan pauses, considering, before he says, “When you drew on your carpet, with crayon.”

“We were six!”

“The one where we watched Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses like three times,” Virgil says.

“An underrated movie,” Patton says, and then, smugly, “I think mine’s earlier than yours.”

“Well, if I had more time to ponder it—“ Logan begins.

“What’s yours, Patton?” Virgil says, cutting him off.

“Do you remember when we got married?”

"We got married?” Logan says, mind straining.

“We were little,” Patton says. “Really little.”

“...I think I do remember that, actually,” Virgil says, sounding a little stunned. “Yeah. Because I was the one who had to decide what we had to do first that day, I hated it when you guys did that.”

(—Patton and Logan are planning out their day as Virgil sits on the swingset, swinging just a little—not enough that he’s skyborne, just enough so that when he swings, the pole moves from blocking Logan’s face to blocking Patton’s face, so he can only see one of them at a time.

“It’d be fun!” Patton.

“It’s non-sense-i-cal.” Logan.

“It’s pretend, it doesn’t hafta make sense.” Patton.

“Have to,” Logan, “And it wouldn’t even take that long anyway.”

“So we could do it first!” Patton. “And then we could do what you and Virgil wanna do.”

Logan. Patton. Logan. Patton. 

“Virgil?” Logan. Virgil drags his heels in the dirt, so that he stops. The pole’s splitting them now—Patton to the right, Logan to the left, both looking at him expectedly.

Virgil chews his lip. This happens a lot, since he’s the quiet one—he ends up being the one who has to make the decisions. Virgil always feels his stomach twist whenever he has to, because what if he chooses wrong? What if they get mad at him because he’s made the worst choice ever and they stop being friends with him?

Virgil swallows, and says, “What’re the choices?”

“Oh, we’re gonna get married,” Patton says cheerfully.

“There’s three of us, we can’t get married,” Logan says pointedly.

“Which’s why it’s pretend,” Patton says. “I went to my cousin’s wedding last weekend and the ceremony was kinda boring but the after part was really fun ‘cause everyone was dancing and we got to eat really tasty food and there was CAKE and I got to eat three slices and so I wanna get married now—!”)

“...I think I do remember that, actually,” Logan says.

“Mm,” Virgil says. “You’re oldest, your memory’s going faster than ours.”

“My memory is impeccable,” Logan says. "I even remember the flowers Patton had in his bouquet, can you?”

“That’s not fair, you know a ton of scientific flower names,” Virgil says. “That was also, like, the main draw of you participating in the wedding, the fact that you got to talk about a ton of flowers.”

“It was a pretty bouquet,” Patton says. 

“Oxeye daisies, and black-eyed Susans, and honeysuckle, and chicory, and scorpion grass, aaaaand.... lilac, stolen from Mrs. Mariano’s tree.”

“Oh, she would have killed us if we’d been caught, you remember how protective she was over those?” Virgil says. “I can’t believe you talked me into that.”

“We were, like, four,” Patton says. “Or maybe five.”

“I was born with a strong, inherent sense of fear, age knows no bounds when it comes to debilitating anxiety,” Virgil says.

Both Logan and Patton hesitate, for a moment—Virgil joking about his anxiety could sometimes also be a clouded request for help, and it usually took Patton deducing tone and then informing Logan that the tone meant it was a request for help.

However, Patton continues, voice light, “Yeah, but we were young enough then that Logan could corrupt us both, as his extra two months of life—or one month, when it comes to me—was still a major implement in him corrupting us, don’tcha know?”

“Yeah, let’s blame it all on Logan,” Virgil says.

“Yes, that’s the logical course of action,” Logan says. “I’ll remember that the next time you need help on your science assignments.”

“Oh, come on! What’s yours is mine, and that includes your knowledge! Does our marriage mean nothing to you?” Patton teases, and there’s a jump in Logan’s chest. Our marriage. Their relationship has been going slowly enough—of course, Virgil’s anxiety is a factor, and Patton is of course willing to accommodate, because he’s kind like that, and Logan’s mostly following their lead—but, well... perhaps this marriage has been brought up for a reason. That’s something people do in relationships, bring up meaningful milestones either shared by other people or related memories. Perhaps this signifies a forward progression. 

Logan enjoys their relationship as is. Patton is open with physical expression like snuggling and cuddling and holding hands, and he gives them both kisses on the cheek every night before they actually sleep. Granted, Virgil is less inclined to physical affection, but he leans against Logan frequently and he expresses his affection in other ways; every playlist on his phone is curated by Virgil, and Virgil always makes his coffee in the morning exactly as he likes it, and new articles about scientific innovations pop up on his phone with some innocuous questions from Virgil that provoke explanations from Logan that Virgil always sits and listens to with an indulgent smile, even if Logan knows that Virgil doesn’t particularly care about quantum jitter or microsatellites or scientists’ brain shrinkage after an extended stay in Antarctica. He just does it so that Logan gets excited and that he will talk about it. They are remarkably good partners. He’d say boyfriends, but they haven’t had that discussion and he doesn’t want to presume.

But, well... perhaps a traditional kiss would be... nice.

“I hardly think our wedding at five, which we primarily had so you could dance and we could split the ding-dongs your mom packed you, was legally binding,” Logan says instead.

“Ah, but it was emotionally binding,” Patton says, and Logan makes a sound of distaste.

“You loooove us,” Patton teases. 

“Ugh.”

“Virgil, you looooove us too.”

“Ugh.”

“Hopeless, the pair of you,” Patton says.

“You have enough love for the pair of us,” Virgil says. “Without you, this marriage would be purely loveless.”

“I feel like I remember in someone’s vows that we promised to be best friends forever,” Patton teases.

(“—Okay,” Patton says, when they’ve all tramped back to the swingset in Logan’s backyard. “Now we gotta get married.”

“How do we do that?” Virgil says. “We say I do, right, is that it?”

“No!” Patton says and bounces on his toes. “They say these things called vows and people can write their own and a vow is like a promise, so we can just say things that we’ll all do for each other anyway and that way it’ll all be true.”

“Even though we aren’t actually getting married,” Logan says.

“Even though we aren’t actually getting married,” Patton agrees. “Okay, um—” He bites his lip for a second, before holding the bouquet between his arm and his chest, so he can take Logan and Virgil by the hands, so they’re all standing in a circle.

“You two gotta hold hands too,” he adds, and Logan takes Virgil’s hand. Patton’s hand is warm, and Logan’s is a little cool. Virgil hopes his hands aren’t sweaty or anything, ‘cause that’d be pretty gross.

“Okay,” Patton says. “Who wants to go first?”

There’s a pause, before Logan sighs and says, “I will, I suppose.”

Logan’s oldest, so Virgil guesses that makes sense. He usually goes first for a lot of things, which means Virgil will go next.

Logan pauses for a few seconds to think, before he squeezes their hands, takes a breath, and speaks.

“I promise to be best friends with you two for forever, even as we get older and real-is-tic-ally make other friends. I promise to at least try playing games that you suggest, even if I don’t like them very much, because you always play the games that I suggest too. I promise teach you everything I know as long as you teach me everything you know, so that between the three of us we know everything that we could know. And,” he adds, “I promise that I will always read to you when you ask me to, even if the books say things that don’t make sense like in that one story about the rabbit and the bear who keep saying they’re the best of beasts and that they can hear and smell all kinds of things and the worm who tells them both to shut up, because none of that can happen since animals cannot talk and—”

“Wedding, L,” Patton chides gently.

“Oh,” Logan says, looking a little embarrassed. “Right. Anyway. I promise to read with you and tell you stories about the stars when we don’t have any books.”

“We’re supposed to say I do,” Patton says brightly, and Virgil mumbles it to his feet at the same time Patton says it.

“Um,” Virgil says, and scuffs his shoe along the dirt. Because Logan’s vows were pretty good and Logan has lots to offer, as a husband, so what can Virgil even say? It’s not like he’s the best reader in the grade who seems like he knows everything. It’s not like he’s the nicest person in the grade, who always helps whenever someone drops anything or gets a scraped knee or gets overwhelmed and seems to always, magically, know just what to do to help. He’s just… he’s just Virgil. 

But he guesses they like just Virgil fine enough. He squeezes their hands.

“I promise to be best friends with you two forever,” he says, because that’s a pretty good place to start, he thinks, even if it’s copying from Logan. “Um. I, I promise to handle the spiders, ‘cause Pat’s scared of ‘em. And I promise that if we ever go to the ocean I won’t make Logan go in or think about everything we don’t know down there, because the ocean kinda freaks me out too. I promise to try and protect you from Drake Wicche, even if he freaks me out because he’s a big bully, ‘cause that’s what friends should do, protect each other. Um. I, uh, I promise to always listen whenever you wanna talk about something. An’ I promise I’ll try and help figure out how to make it better and look at it from all the angles that I can think of, and a few that probably won’t happen, but. Better safe than sorry. So. I’ll—I want to keep you safe. I’ll try my hardest to do that. To protect you. I promise.”

“I do,” Logan says, stalwart, and Patton echoes him, much softer, before he clears his throat and squeezes their hands.

“I love you both very much, and I value you both greatly,” Patton says. “Logan, I love it when you read to us, and when you try playing games, and when you teach us stuff, and when you tie our shoes, and when you wear those ties you really like. Virgil, I love the way you protect us, and when you help us decide what to do, and when you handle the spiders, and when you listen to us talk about stuff, and help us figure out stuff. I love you both very, very much, and I think being stuck with you both forever, well—it’d be a pretty good deal.”

A beat, and Patton adds, “And I promise to be best friends with you two forever and ever and ever, as long as we three shall live.”)

“Those were your vows,” Virgil says pointedly.

“Huh,” Patton says, and he sounds like he’s smiling. “Guess they were.”

A long pause.

“Sleep?” Patton asks.

“Sleep,” Virgil and Logan agree.

“Good,” Patton says, and, like it’s not even the slightest deviation from routine, leans to peck Logan, and Virgil, and that alone isn’t enough to deviate from routine, except he pecks them on the lips.

“Night!” He says brightly, as if he did not just drop their first kiss in the relationship on them out of nowhere. 

“Um?” Virgil says, voice squeaky.

A pause. “Hm?”

“Patton,” Logan says. “You just—kissed us.”

“...yeah?” Patton says, confused. “I... always do?”

“On the mouth,” Virgil says, strangled. “You kissed us. On the mouth.”

A horrified pause. “I didn’t.”

“Yes,” Logan says, heart fluttering. “Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!” Virgil says, and he sounds panicked—well, Logan supposes it was a surprise, and Virgil doesn’t like surprises, but this is a pleasant surprise!

“No!” Patton says, and Logan is very suddenly jostled off of Patton’s chest, and Patton turns on the lamp, looking distressed, “No, I didn’t!”

“Yes!” Virgil says, already sitting up, eyes wild, hair sticking up as if he has the same reaction as cats do to being startled. “You did!”

“Can we stop repeating ourselves?” Logan says. 

“How are you not freaking out about this?!” Virgil demands. “Your boyfriend kissed me!”

At the same time, Logan says, “He’s your boyfriend too?” as Patton yelps, “My boyfriend?!”

“I—wait,” Virgil says. “My boyfriend?”

“Yes?” Logan says, looking between the pair of them. “We have been friends for a great period of time, we selected a college we would all be able to attend together, we have gotten an apartment together, we frequently share a bed, we have a standing engagement for dinner at least weekly, in addition to outings we all have together, and—“

And Logan’s stomach is sinking.

“—and I misinterpreted this, didn’t I?” Logan says. “It—it seemed like the logical progression of our relationship, we—“

“We just—hang on,” Patton says, and shoves his hands through his hair. He always looks strange without his glasses, but his eyes seem huge even without the natural magnification effect. “I—wait. Hang on. In the world’s tiniest sentences, can everyone tell me what we think is going here?”

“We’re all romantic partners,” Logan says, still feeling miserable. “I—I apologize if my revealing this has made you uncomfortable, I—“

“We’ll work it out, Lo, just—Virge?”

“I thought you two were dating,” Virgil says.

“Wha—just us?” Logan says.

“Well, yeah!” Virgil says. “You—Patton’s all lovey-dovey with you, and you always give him that look when he’s being particularly Patton, and I thought you two were—monogamous.”

“Virgil, I walked into Patton napping on top of you this afternoon,” Logan says.

“He’s a cuddler!”

“He cuddles both of us!”

“He was cuddling me because you weren’t there!”

“He cuddles both of us, because he’s our boyfriend!” 

“I thought we were all single and I was stuck hopelessly pining!” Patton wails, before he claps his hand over his mouth. 

“I—what?” Virgil says. “Patton, you could get anyone you want, I mean, you’re—you’re you.”

“I concur,” Logan says. “You are a fantastic boyfriend, or, well—“ He feels abruptly foolish, once again, “Or I thought you were.”

“I—okay,” Patton says. “Virgil. When did you think Logan and I started dating?”

“After you two came back from the planetarium and Patton was wearing your coat, during... junior year?”

“Of high school?”

“Yes, of high school,” Virgil grumbles. “You two are all—hand-holdy, and sweet, and I just—”

“Okay,” Patton says. “Logan, when did we all start dating?”

“I—well, I don’t know, really, we just—we all moved into the same apartment, and were all gradually becoming more physical, and we started sleeping in the same bed, I talked to Roman—“

“You talked to Roman?!”

“He’s the most qualified person I know to speak about romance,” Logan says defensively. 

“Roman thinks we’re dating?” Virgil says.

“Well, I suppose I lied to him, because apparently we’re not!” Logan snaps.

“I—hang on,” Patton says. “Okay. Let me get this straight. Virgil. Do you like me?”

Virgil looks panicked.

“Just a yes or no, do you like me like that?” Patton says. “No judgment.”

“I—well...” Virgil squirms. “Yeah.”

“And do you like Logan?”

“...yeah,” Virgil says quietly, looking at his hands.

“Okay. Logan—“

“I believe my stance was made clear,” Logan says.

“And mine,” Patton says, and looks—irritated?

“You said no judgment,” Virgil says, shrinking away.

“I could have been dating the pair of you since we were thirteen?!” Patton practically shouts. “I’ve missed out on eight years of boyfriendship because none of us can talk about our feelings?!”

“So,” Virgil says. “So you like us?”

“Hopelessly pining, V,” Patton says. “Of course I like you, oh my goodness, how could I possibly not like you two?”

Virgil’s eyes grow slightly shiny. “Really?”

“Yes, really, of course really,” Patton says. “L?”

“Oh, right, outward validation,” Logan says. “Yes, of course I like you. The both of you.”

Patton squeals, clapping his hands, and cups Logan’s face, pulls him in, and—

And oh. Patton’s extensive moisturizing campaign has extended to his lips, his soft, lush, slightly wet lips, his warm, beautiful lips, and Logan’s brain has gone so quiet and so awed and he has been thinking about this for years, years and years, he’s wanted this for years and he’s getting it and it almost feels like it isn’t real and—

They break, and Logan forces himself to not stare at Patton’s lips, but he doesn’t have much of a chance before Patton leans and cups Virgil’s face and—

And watching them is like watching an eclipse, sun and moon overlapping, Patton’s tan hands cupping Virgil’s pale cheeks, which are rapidly becoming rosy with a blush, and Virgil’s jaw flexes as they kiss, and kiss, and how does Logan feel lightheaded, he’s not even the one kissing right now?

They break apart with an appealing noise, and Patton says brightly, “Okay, now you two.”

“I—oh,” Logan says, and turns to Virgil. “I—yes?”

“Yes,” Virgil says, and Logan mimicks Patton’s stance—cupping Virgil’s cheek, and feeling his strong jaw is even more appealing than just staring at it—and he presses his lips against Virgil’s, rough and a little chapped because Virgil chews them so often, but they move just as smoothly as Patton’s do, and oh, there’s the lingering taste of Patton’s strawberry chapstick is lingering on Virgil’s lips, his cinnamon toothpaste, and—and—

Virgil draws back, and Logan blinks, and Patton giggles. 

“Hey, I’m just gonna say, again,” Patton says. “Eight. Years. We could have been doing this for eight years.”

“I can’t believe we’ve lived in a loveless marriage since we were four,” Virgil says, and then Logan feels like he’s bursting, and then—

He’s giggling. 

Patton and Virgil exchange a glance, delighted, and Patton leans forward, peppering kisses on Logan’s face, before he turns and does the same thing to Virgil, who flushes and ducks, shoulders hiking, but he has a soft secretive smile, and Logan can’t help but giggle even more.

“Well, we can’t possibly go to sleep now,” Patton says.

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “What on earth are we gonna do with all this free—“

Virgil’s mouth is suddenly occupied. With Logan’s mouth. Because Logan is kissing him.

Look, he’s not very inclined toward analogy, okay?

[goreverine-archive1]

@fiddlingonthetympanic​:

The coup against Council and the tilted sense of security even with Frost back in power; the salt and the rot; the feeling of losing a year and the hazy memories no one had the decency to erase for the sake of archival: these are the things that keep Woolf awake at night. Not the only things. The Wild Hunt—terrible name—is still disquieted. Discontented. Insulted.

Salty. Spicy. Insalted. G-d.

She shrugs into the pale robe her niece gave her for a birthday gift last year, then pads barefoot from her pod. She gnaws at a slightly pointed fingernail as she goes, face knit into a scowl. ‘Nice and quiet,’ she thinks. ‘All is quiet on the Western Front. I have found my place of zen. I’m sliding.’

She turns her head and spits out a bit of fingernail, ignoring the jagged edge left behind. Krakoa’s working its changes on all their bodies, but right now, she’s not in the mood to sit and bitch to herself about the X-Factor and outside influence. It’s been a long damn year since her latest hatch, and she’s—restless. Crawling out of her skin. Off kilter and screeching in the face of change. Pissed off.

Woolf pauses at a deliberately audible rustle. Her nostrils flare. Long fingers work at the knot of her belt.

“I can feel you looking at me.” The accusation is deadpan but carries well enough. She watches a scattering of nearby pods for any flicker of activity. Nothing. Small favors, she supposed.

Her lip curls in a snarl that’s part defiance, part challenge, and just a hint of butchery. “And I still see you.” No need to elaborate; he knows what she means. “Don’t ever think I don’t.” The snarl deepens, almost cutting across the sharp lines of her face. “Don’t you ever think any different.”

The robe slides off her shoulders like cool water. Water infected them in the first place, she realizes, barking out a laugh. Oh, that’s funny as hell.

Bare-assed, she gives a little half turn and locks eyes with him. “Come and get me,” she rasps. Her teeth are oddly white in the darkness; the last word drops an octave. “Chickenshit.”

It’s a challenge. Maybe an invitation, though one that gives the illusion of leaving “choice” to “chance”.

She runs.

Krakoa at night. Cicada-likes chirping, little flying insects of seemingly infinite variety buzzing and bouncing off bodies in the hot and humid darkness.

This has been... a melancholic year, especially for the feral population. The Hunt is only just starting to clear itself from its salted and destroyed earth, arid plains that used to be so beautiful, so lush.

His old master has disappeared, now that he no longer has the cover of trees. The population is very much on an IV, and he’s not the only one harboring conspiracy theories of the former powers-that-be intending to neuter its violent, lively population.

It’s hard to move on. Daken spends too much time in Tess’ vicinity for the sheer comfort of her scent. It was the only thing he had in that dark time, eaten and bred alive by that which consumed them all.

Yet, he feels like he’s taken a step backward with Tess -- reminded of what he was to her, of what he was to others. A monster. She even tells him as such, snarling teeth barely visible in the darkness outside of her pod.

No, he still doesn’t think she hates him anymore. She won’t forget, but she will move on. Move on, as swift as bare feet on smooth grass speckled with closed wildflowers, the curve of her naked body lit by moonlight.

Of course Daken steps from thin foliage and begins the chase; it’s why she runs.

In silence, the two of them: Grass rustles, the woosh of wind in their ears. The soil that squelches under their feet is rich and teeming full of life, contrasting the place where they used to call home. What a pity. What a waste.

If there are figures watching in the distance, they don’t approach when Daken’s silhouette collides with Tess -- a full-body tackle to the ground, marking her breasts and belly and thighs with the scrape of dirt and crushed grass, a few dead insects. Fully clothed, he pins her down: Hips heavy on her bare ass, one hand on the back of her neck and the fingers of his other hand grabbing at a handful of flora to the side as leverage.

Only now does he speak, now that she can’t run. His breath tickles her ear as he leans in close, allowing his body to just weigh on her.

“You need,” Daken enunciates slowly, “to stop fucking pitying yourself.”

A kiss, then, at the back of her ear. He nuzzles her, really, affectionate despite forcing her down. “The children came back, and they forgot it all. They’re almost done bringing everyone back. You can’t let this haunt you forever.”

[bubmyg]

sweater paws - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: youtuber!au, the fluffiest fluff, jeongguk says to adopt don’t shop i heard him say it at least twice

word count: 1,874

summary: “these have been done before but I don’t care I love her” - a series on gcguk in which jeongguk tackles old, cheesy YouTube couple challenges. episode three: the ‘where am i?’ challenge or the responsibly adopt a dog for my half unsuspecting girlfriend challenge 

a/n: technically part 3 of idcilh but mostly just a part of the general youtuber!guk series (all of which are linked on my masterlist!!)

“Do you have any guesses where I might be taking you for your last location?”

Jeongguk couldn’t help but laugh at your indignant, non articulate response that was instead a series of disgruntled noises through pouted lips. Your arms were folded tightly to your chest, one knee curled inward and he could tell by the knit of your eyebrows and the scrunch of your nose that you were glaring behind the bandanna tied carefully around your eyes. 

“Ice cream, maybe?” You tried, tone hopeful until you added sharply, “You owe me, to be honest.”

In an effort to fulfill the requirements for the Where am I? challenge, Jeongguk had led your unsuspecting figure into the depths of Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment, letting you believe that he’d just driven you in circles for an hour only to end up back at your own apartment. When you ‘locked in’ your guess as the living room, Jimin and Taehyung had appeared wielding unlit lightsabers and promptly scaring the shit out of you while Jeongguk just cackled behind the lens of your camera. 

Your second location had been the park where you and Jeongguk often walked, the pond at the park to be exact, the bank of it where the tiniest bit of water lipped onto the inclined sand. It eventually soaked through the toes of your tennis shoes when Jeongguk had said, quote, you’ll be able to guess if you just take one more step forward, yeah, there— only to elicit a startled squeak from your throat and a pout to your lips when Jeongguk sat you down in the passenger seat of the car and carefully rolled new socks and shoes on your feet that he’d packed specifically for that part of the video. 

His surprise locations hadn’t been nearly as shocking as yours. You’d taken him to mall, forced him to wander through at the guide of only your hand, and then guess what shop you’d placed him inside. He’d guessed Urban Outfitters when it was instead a specialty toy shop. His second location had been the tattoo shop of one of his close friends, the one who had slowly been adding to the little pieces of ink all over his knuckles. It was no exception and he guessed it immediately after a tiny yelp with the first touch of the tattoo gun, even allowing the artist to etch out the last of the tiny heart on the bend of his thumb after he’d pulled the blindfold off. 

“Why do I owe you?” Jeongguk wondered innocently, only to have to duck into himself when you swung a searching arm to smack his chest and scold goodnaturedly stop trying to hit the driver. 

“You got a tattoo and that new Overwatch figurine you were wanting out of this challenge,” You settled back into your seat with a huff, “I’ve got Jimin’s lightsaber that doesn’t work anymore and a pair of wet socks.”

He continued to beam, cheeks hurting from the stretch of his smile as he rested a wrist on the steering wheel at a stoplight, glancing at you again. “I think you’ll like this last place,” He tried to soothe, careful in not startling you when he touched your thigh to give it a soft squeeze, “It’ll all be worth it.”

“Is it the apartment? Please tell me it’s the apartment.”

Jeongguk laughed, palm on the wheel as he accelerated through the intersection and flicked on the turn signal, “I’ll give you another free hint this round. No, it’s not the apartment.”

He angled the car down the long gravel drive, catching the way you perked in his peripheral at the sound caused by the change in terrain. Carefully, he guided the vehicle into the parking spot directly in front of the door to the building, hands shaking in bubbling anticipation as he turned off the ignition and passed his keys into one palm, gathering his camera off the dash into the other.

“Stay here, I have to go make sure they’re ready for us.”

“Jeon Jeongguk you better not leave me in here by myself.”

“I’ll be no more than thirty seconds. Count. If I’m not back, you can take the blindfold off and come find me.”

There was a visible cheer in Jeongguk’s stride as he bounded up the stairs of the building, nudging his way inside with the camera carefully balanced. 

He’d planned this for weeks, communicating with the staff members on various occasions, confirming fees and applications and waivers and consent for filming. All of which came to a head when three staff members greeted him at the exact same time, only for one to warily confirm, “Jeongguk, right?”

He nodded, sticking out a straight arm for them to shake his hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“She’s all ready for you…” The staff member’s eyes shined gently at the excitement of the man on the other end of their clasped hands, “We’re ready when you are.”

Jeongguk rushed out something about I’ll go get her, be right back, only to dash back out the door with shaky camera work in fear that you’d taken his promise seriously and had ditched the blindfold. You hadn’t, and he found you the same way he’d left you, still pouting but slightly curious in the way you tilted your head and then jerked it when he opened your door. 

“Do I hear dogs barking?” Was the first thing you asked, curious in expression but tight in the way you gripped his hands that aided you out of the car. 

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.” Jeongguk muttered something to you about there being stairs, easing you across them and then underneath his arm as he held open the front door for you. 

Cupped hands on your shoulders situated you in the center of the lobby area and he could no longer contain any fraction of the giddy grin that overtook the entirety of your features as slowly the pieces began to fall together for you. 

“Can I guess yet?”

Jeongguk directed the camera at you as the staff member from before came out from one of the back rooms cradling a golden ball of fur with a neat red bow perched on top of its head. “Go ahead, babe.”

“The animal shelter? Wait!—” You turned in the general direction of his voice to correct, “—specifically the animal shelter we visited a few weeks ago. The one on the other end of the city…”

He traded possessions with the staff member, letting them takeover his camera while he delicately adjusted the puppy in his grasp, moving to stand directly in front of you. “Okay,” He said, “You can take the blindfold off.”

You were tentative in crooking your fingers underneath the bandanna, tugging upward in short, gradual spurts until it was hanging limply off the end of your index finger. You blinked, bleary for the first few seconds of adjusting to the light, adjusting to your surroundings, adjusting to what was standing directly in front of you. 

“I was right…” You trailed off, squinting at Jeongguk while some of the staff members began to laugh among themselves. Your pointed gaze shifted to the puppy in his arms.

Dumbly, you said, “That’s a dog.”

Jeongguk just grinned while the laughter of the staff grew a bit louder, “Mhm. Your dog.”

You stumbled on the words my dog? as they came off your tongue, accepting the puppy when Jeongguk placed her in your arms. You held her close, disbelief still evident even as your heart began to roar in your ears and you nuzzled into the puppy’s soft fur with your nose. 

“I…” You squinted at him this time to dispel some of the involuntary tears that had gathered in your water line but rather than them disappearing, they began gentle tracks down the slope of your nose, “You adopted her?”

“Technically we adopted her,” He subconsciously reached for your face, thumb brushing away the tears as they came, “Yes. She’s ours now.”

You mumbled something about not fair and something jumbled about what his last location was supposed to be and how it didn’t even matter and didn’t compare anyway before silent tears began to fall more freely, tucking your chin into your chest as you hugged the puppy a bit closer. Jeongguk motioned to the staff member with his camera and they cut the direction of the lens to the floor, a fond smile on their lips as they gave him an encouraging thumbs up and began to step aside with the other people who’d appeared to watch the scene unfold. He wrapped an arm around your waist and behind your shoulders, coaxing you into his embrace with more soft laughter. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeongguk’s lips touched your wet cheek, holding you gently as you nuzzled into his sweater, “Do you like her?”

A noise of affirmation rumbled softly in your chest as you adjusted the dog in your grip, peering down at her as her tiny pink tongue came to stretch for your cheek. It only made you cry and smile harder, something Jeongguk laughed unabashedly at as he settled his chin on your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” You murmured, leaning your cheek against his. 

“Alright,” His voice shifted back into vlogging mode once you’d settled back into the car, the puppy in your lap and wrapped up in a slew of blankets you hadn’t registered Jeongguk packing into the backseat before you’d taken off on your filming adventure. He tilted the shot toward you, “So have you figured out that the challenge was just a lie to get you here?”

“You made me step in a pond for a puppy?” Your attention directed to the puppy who placed a tiny paw on your chest and stretched to lick toward your chin again. “Honestly? Worth it.”

Jeongguk grinned, stretching the camera again until it sat on the dash to capture both of your figures beyond the steering wheel. “Glad to hear it,” He leaned over the middle console, “and what do you think, little girl?”

She turned her attention from trying to lick you to successfully licking Jeongguk, planting a series of fat stripes of his scrunched nose until he pulled away. 

“You think that means she’s cool with becoming a member of our little family?”

The question made you unwillingly emotional as tears began to well over in your vision, blurring the way Jeongguk panicked and leaned closer again to plant his lips on yours before fishing for his camera. 

“I think that’s it for this video. No, before you ask, we don’t have a name yet... All the links for the animal shelter will be in the description if you’d like to check them out and please do check them out, there are so many animals in shelters who need homes…”

“And other than that?” Jeongguk glanced over his shoulder to where you were cooing quietly at the puppy, heart inflating then seizing in his throat and the onslaught of tears still visible on your cheeks began to seep over into his own being.

“I guess my girls and I will see you in the next video…”

[kodzuken-pie]

Asahi fluff with 1, 7, 13 please? 🥺 congrats on 300 I love your writing!!!!

——————————————————————————

[ A/N : AHHH A Asahi request Omg 🥺 it’s my baby <33 Thank you 🥺 ]

Pairing : husband!Asahi x Wife!reader

Prompt : Outside the window, Up in the treehouse and Easy-peasy

Warnings : none

Word count : 2017

——————————————————————————

Treehouse shenanigans ♡︎

——————————————————————————

You looked outside the kitchen window as you washed the dishes. Asahi comes out of nowhere and hugs you from behind, kissing the top of your head. You sigh happily as you watched your two kids play underneath the big oak tree. He moves to help you with the dishes, rinsing them after you soap them.

“The kids were telling me they want a treehouse, Hubby.” You nudge your husband a little and giggle.

“A treehouse?” He then looks outside, smiling as he looks at the tree. “That sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?” His smile only gets brighter as he turns his head to look at you.

“You mean how we always got yelled at for almost destroying the treehouse in my family’s backyard at least twice?” You giggle again and place suds on the tip of his nose.

“I was trying to stop you the whole time though!” He retorts, snorting a little. “I’m surprised that even after ramming the wall with a mallet twice it was still fine!”

“We were kids though! Bet if i do it now I’ll break it!” You flash him a mischievous smile.

“But why?!” He freaks out a little, wiping the suds off his nose.

You start to laugh, shaking your head a little. “I wouldn’t really do it hubby!” You exclaimed and snorted as you saw him relax. “Besides, that treehouse really does hold a lot of precious memories for us!”

You wash your hands and the sink as you finish washing the dishes, drying your hands right after. He finishes as well, putting each plate on the dish rack to dry then you hand him the towel to dry his hands. Both of you still look outside as you keep reminiscing about all the things you did in the treehouse in your old home.

“We also had our first kiss in that treehouse.” He said quietly, a small blush dusting his cheeks.

“And it was where I confessed to you.” You bumped your hips against his and snickered.

“Oh, yeah? Well it’s where I proposed, remember~” He bumped you back lightly, a proud look in his face.

“Oh shush!” You stick your tongue out at him and kiss his shoulder blade.

He turns around and snakes an arm around your waist, resting his hand on the small of your back. He starts humming a familiar tune and sways you around the kitchen. Your mind drifts to when you two were in high school, young and in love.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

The week finally ended and you found yourself up in the treehouse with your boyfriend. The sound of laughter spilled out the windows.

“Asahi!” You exclaimed as you put a hand on your stomach, wiping a tear from your eyes from laughing uncontrollably.

“What? I’m not wrong, am I?” He chuckles softly, his heart melting at the sight of you.

“No you’re not but that doesn’t mean-“ you snort and take a breath, fanning your face. “That doesn’t mean Nishinoya would actually do it!”

“Are you sure about that?” He raises an eyebrow, challenging you. “You sure he won’t rolling thunder down a hill and call it ‘infinite rolling thunder’?”

You laugh out loudly again, lips curled to a grin. He gets up from his seat and walks towards you, ducking a bit to avoid a branch. You take a breather as you stop laughing, looking up at him as he wraps an arm around your waist. He took your other hand in his and raised it, pulling you closer to him and having your body flush against his.

“Dance with me?” He asks, softly humming your favorite song.

“I would love to.” You give him the softest smile and you feel your heart swell, filling with your love for him.

He sways you slowly, around the trunk of the tree. He moves his hands so that both are now resting on your back, your hands pressed gently against his chest. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours, staring at you lovingly.

“I love you so much, more than I could ever express.” He says softly before planting a feather light kiss on your lips.

You close your eyes and find your arms looping around his neck, fingers wading through his soft locks as you push him down to deepen the kiss. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, slowly falling down the side of your face. He pulls away and immediately holds your face, wiping the tears away.

“Did I make you cry? I’m sorry.” He said as his big calloused hands glide over your cheeks. “I mean it though. I really do love you.” He eyes flick from lips to meet your eyes, his eyes burn with the intensity of his love.

“I love you too, Asahi.” You finally say it back, a smile tugging at your lips as you sniffle.

Your eyes match the same intensity and he could see it, his heart pounding out of his chest. His lips collide with yours again, this time more fervent and passionate. Your lips move in sync with his, dancing together in perfect harmony. He presses your body closer to him and gives you a deep kiss before pulling away, catching his breath as his forehead rests against yours again.

“I can’t believe you said it first.” You smile playfully, teasing him as you undo his bun.

“I can’t have you have the satisfaction of doing everything first you know.” He gave you an Eskimo kiss before he let you go. “Why don’t we go somewhere, right now?” He says excitedly.

“Let’s go then!” You rushed towards the little hatch and opened it, already climbing down.

You two spent that day out and about, exploring the unknown.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

You giggle suddenly, making him stop humming. He looks at you curiously, a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He asked, kissing the tip of your nose.

You scrunch your nose up and look up at him. “I was just thinking about when you said it first.” Your head tilts to the side unknowingly.

“Said What first?” His lips form a cat-like smile, a smug look on his face.

You roll your eyes and lightly smack his chest. “I love you, you big teddy bear.” You pinch his cheek and stick your tongue out at him.

“I love you too my sweet munchkin.” He rubs his nose against yours before giving your lips a quick peck making you giggle. “Why don’t we go get that treehouse started?” He smiles excitedly at you, eyes sparkling.

You nod in agreement and return the same excitement. “Wait, we can start today?” You ask as you get ecstatic with the thought.

“Yes, wifey. We can start today.” He says and goes to grab his keys. “I’ll go get the materials that we need ok? I’ll be back in a bit!” He sends you a flying kiss as he swiftly moves towards the garage and out of the driveway.

You stand by the window and look outside, waving at him as he drives away. Although you know he won’t really see it, you smile warmly at him as he pulls away.

— Two weeks later —

He stands up proudly at the base of the tree, wiping his sweat off of his forehead. You stood next to him and handed him his water bottle. Looking up and walking around the tree, you grin and throw your hands up.

“It looks so good!!” You cheered loudly and ran back towards your husband, tackling him to the ground. “Hubby the kids are going to love it!” You say as you straddle him.

He lets out a hearty laugh and rests his hands on your hips, sitting up carefully. “You think so? You seem to be excited the most here!” He pokes the tip of your nose and snickers.

“Well I mean, they haven’t really seen it yet so you know…” you shrug a little and look away. “Can I go up and check it out?” You whisper as if trying to contain your excitement.

“I knew it!” He fell back onto the grass again as he laughed.

You hit his chest lightly before crossing your arms and pouting at him. He looks up at you with that irresistible smile of his. You close your eyes and knit your brows together as his hands squeeze you lightly.

“Go ahead~ I’m not stopping you.” He pats your thighs then relaxes on the grass, sighing happily as he watched you get up the ladder.

Once you had gotten in the tree house, you looked around. Impressed with the handy work that you and your husband did. You open the little window and poke your head out, looking around then looking at your husband laying on the grass.

“Hey baby bear!!” You wave at him, a big bright grin plastered on your face.

He looks up, blinking rapidly as he sees you. He then waves back and sits up, turning his head towards the little gate as he hears the familiar laughter of your kids.

“WOAH!! Yukiko look!!” Your son, Kigai beams as he sees the treehouse.

“The treehouse is done!! The treehouse is done!!” Your daughter chanted, dancing happily.

“Come on kids, it’s fun up here!!” You wave them over, leaning out of the window.

“Give me your bags. Be careful climbing up ok?” Asahi advised the kids as he took their bags, setting them down on the table on your porch.

You get back in the treehouse and hold the hatch open for your kids. They hugged you in turn as they climbed in. Running around the spacious treehouse, playing tag and laughing with complete and utter joy.

“Hey you two! Come help me get your dad up here!” You grab their attention and they look at each other, nodding before they run up to the window and poke their heads out.

“Dad!! The queen is in danger!! She needs your help!” Kigai exclaimed, trying to look in need of help.

“The queen needs her king!!” Yukiko giggled as she said this, making you giggle as well.

“Well if it’s the king she needs then the king she’ll get!” Asahi stands confidently before rushing towards the ladder, climbing up swiftly.

“Oh! My king! Save me, please~” You lay on the floor and put a hand to your forehead. “The prince and princess did their best but alas!” You feign hurt and clench your chest, faking to have fainted.

“Oh no! What shall we do now?” Kigai asks with worry.

“I think the queen needs a kiss from her king!” Yukiko suggested.

“Ah, a true love’s kiss is the only way to cure the queen isn’t it?” He says as he stands up, letting the kids drag him towards you.

He rushes to your side following the kids and he picks you up, holding your head close to his. Yukiko and Kigai giggle with excitement.

“Save the Queen!” They say in sync and you hear Yukiko squeal as Asahi kisses you.

Your eyes flutter open, your cheeks tinted pink. “My king! Oh my king! You’ve saved me once again!” You wrap your arms around him and fake cry.

“The queen is safe! The kingdom is at peace again!” Kigai cheers, sending a fist up in the air.

You two pull away from each other and laugh. The sight of your two kids enjoying themselves adding as another delightful treehouse memory. The both of you sit on your butts and lean against the wall, hands intertwined.

“Building this treehouse was easy peasy!” He huffs, puffing his chest out. “Thank you for helping me~”

“Well, you’re welcome~” You kiss the back of his hand and giggle.

“Does this count as an anniversary gift?” He asks jokingly, laughing as you hit him playfully on the arm.

The rest of the day, you tell your kids about the beautiful memories that you and their father made in your old treehouse. Reminiscing precious moments and hoping to relive them, making more memories up in the treehouse.

——————————————————————————

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4 Nifty Knitting: Knitting Deep Dive

SimGuruConnor has released a forum post providing details on The Sims 4 Nifty Knitting!

Welcome back to our latest – and last! – Deep Dive into the gameplay of The Sims 4 Nifty Knitting Stuff Pack. I’ve really enjoyed sharing the designs and development of this pack with you, and I hope to continue doing these sorts of posts in the future. It’s been a super cool experience, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading these!

In today’s post I’ll talk about the feature that is core to everything in this pack, Knitting! Once again, I have to remind you that we’re still in active development on the pack and so some things may change between now and the final game.

Now, let’s talk about some nifty knits!

In order to start knitting, you’ll need to purchase a Yarn Basket from the Build/Buy catalog. You probably remember voting on these baskets a while back. This was the winning design, presented to you now in all its colorful glory! Don’t like color? That’s okay, because we included a solid black and white variant.

We have one more knitting basket coming too! Remember this one?

The basket acts as the crafting catalyst(neat term, huh?) similar to the Easel or Woodworking Bench in The Sims 4 base game. But unlike those examples, the Yarn Basket is meant to live in a Sim’s inventory so that they can take their knitting anywhere they want to go. Knitting itself is relatively straightforward: click on the Yarn Basket in your inventory, OR, with the basket in your inventory, click on the chair you want to sit in while knitting (perhaps a rocking chair?) and select the Knit interaction.

Your projects are saved to your Sim, so you can pause your progress at any time and resume later, and even juggle multiple projects at once. Starting a project costs a small amount of Simoleons for the cost of yarn, but nothing too outrageous.

(Children can knit too!)

As a Sim levels up their knitting skill they’ll have access to new patterns. They’ll start with knitting socks and beanies, but as they grow more skilled they can tackle more challenging projects like sweaters and toys for kids. But if you only want to specialize in one thing – perhaps knitted mailbox cozies? – that’s fine too! Just keep knitting anything and everything, and you’ll be level 10 before you know it.

Speaking of knitting skill, sometimes your skill is reflected in your knitted work, or rather your lack of skill. Knitting projects can fail, and when they fail they can get weird. But it’s all subjective, and maybe you’ll end up accidentally knitting the cutest derpy companion, or the perfectly itchy sweater. No mistakes, only happy accidents!

(Just own it.)

One of the niftiest parts of the knitting skill is unlocking the ability to Teach to Knit, where Sims sit down together and have a knitting pow-wow. We wanted this to feel special, so we got a really sweet animation for it (Thanks Haeju!). Now that you can infect other Sims with the knitting bug, no yarn ball will be safe!

(The knitting needles aren’t finished on the Teach To Knit interaction yet, but trust me it’s SUPER CUTE.)

So, what can you do with all these knitting projects? Lots of stuff!

Not only can knitted objects be listed on Plopsy, but you can also Donate them to charity. If you want to surprise a loved one, try Gifting a knitted object too. If you want to destroy all traces of your knitted failures, you can Frog the object and start again! If it’s a particularly nice Sweater that you made, consider Adding it to Wardrobe to make it available in Create-A-Sim to all family members.

(Everyone appreciates a nice gift!)

We want Sims to be able to knit something for their whole family. Not only will Sims be able to knit Toddler Onesies, but Baby Onesies as well. So put your little grubworm in a handmade knitted outfit. I’m sure they’d thank us if they could! (And if they didn’t like it I’m sure they’d be polite about it.)

(Here’s a sneak peek at some of the concept art for new clothing for the littlest of Sims!)

It also felt like a good idea to add an Aspiration to tie this passion for knitting all together. So if you want to master the fuzzy art of knitting, consider signing your Sim up for the Lord(or Lady) of the Knits Aspiration. With yarn running through your veins, there will be no knitting mountain too hard to conquer! Master the Aspiration and you’ll be rewarded with the Sacred Knitting Knowledge trait. What does it do? Lots of stuff! What does it unlock? Something special! Am I being vague? I am! Come on guys, I can’t share all the secrets quite yet.

As I’ve mentioned previously, we’re trying to get as much cross-pack functionality for knitting as we can. Cats can play with Yarn Baskets and Yarn Balls, there will be new Club rules for Knitting, new class electives at University, and knitting counts for Emotional Control, just to name a few. I’m hoping Knitting feels nice and snug alongside our other gameplay systems.

Now let’s have a chat with our lead Object Modeler, Beth Mohler!

Conor: Can you tell us a little bit about what an Object Modeler does on The Sims 4?

Beth: As an object modeler I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to make objects work in The Sims 4. This is actually a very involved process, and somewhat different from the wonderful work our environment team does. We work with designers, concept artists, engineers, animators, vfx artists (basically everyone!) to make sure that Sims can use an object properly in an animation, or that all of our objects will work with each other. Once we understand the design for a new object, we will create a rig, a block model (a very generic version of the object used to help us make more of the same object in the future), and a footprint (tells us where the object can go and how Sims move around it). Once those are tested by animators and other disciplines we can model the final version, create UVs, and add textures. We also hook up and test everything in the game to make sure it all looks good. There is a lot to think about when it comes to making objects because we know players can find so many interesting ways to place and use them in game. That makes it a very fun challenge to make them work with everything else we’ve built before.

Conor: What feature are you most excited to work on in Nifty Knitting Stuff?

Beth: I’d say I am most excited to work on the rocking chairs! I love that we are bringing them to the game and can’t wait to see them in some cozy living rooms or on porches.

Conor: What are some of the challenges you are facing working on this pack?

Beth: One of the biggest challenges is ensuring that the knitting itself looks good and is fun to watch! This is a challenge given that it needs to work for everything you can create. Figuring this out takes a lot of iteration between modeling, animation, engineering, design, and art direction so that we come to a conclusion that will work the best given our time and technical constraints.

Another interesting “challenge” is the fact that I crochet as a hobby myself! When you are knowledgeable about something (yarn!) in real life, working on it in the game it can sometimes be hard to separate the things you know and may expect in reality from what is possible or best within a video game. I have to make sure to keep a balance and to conceptualize how we can best convert the knitting experience into The Sims 4. As someone who also generally enjoys interior design and architecture, this is actually one of my favorite challenges and one of the things I love about working on objects in The Sims 4.

Conor: What is your favorite feature you have ever worked on in The Sims 4?

Beth: I think it has to be a tie between the mini fridge or the robotics table in Discover University. That pack was the first time I got to really take an entire feature from start to finish. I’ve been with Maxis for a while, but I’m relatively new to The Sims 4. Both of these objects had some complex features we wanted that required a lot of iteration. I learned a ton about the technical aspects of our game during the process as well. I’ve also worked on a few very cool things between then and now, but those can’t be shared yet ; )

As a fan of The Sims since the very beginning I am so happy to be able to share a little about what I do on a daily basis on The Sims 4 with you! I haven’t been on The Sims 4 for quite as long overall, but some of you may also recognize me from my time on Sims Mobile where I shared some of our workflows on Twitter for making a juice bar. Thanks!

Conor: You shared a screenshot of the In-Progress Rocking Chair in our Rocking Chair Deep Dive. Can you share an updated screenshot now that the Rocking Chair is further along?

Beth: I would love to! I hope everyone has been enjoying seeing the progress on this object so far! Here it is a little further along. This program allows us to set the rules for the object materials, footprint size and rig it should use, as well as all the color variants and swatch colors you see in the catalog.

Thanks Beth! By the way, Beth is on Twitter @SimGuruBeth, so be sure to Follow her! And thanks to all of you Simmers for following this pack’s development, this has been a really fun project in a very crazy time. A big thank you to my Stuff Pack teammates, and especially SimGuruSarah who edited my inane ramblings and wrangled the miscellaneous bits for these posts.

While this concludes my design Deep Dives, we still have more forum posts with development insights on the way! Keep checking the Community Stuff Pack forum and we’ll have more fun stuff to show off in the weeks to come.

Until next time, SimGuruConor

[justsimplypretty]

goodnight -n- go (n.m.)

Storyline: Lena joins Nick on a winter family vacation while attempting to keep a good image... even after a heated night.

Author’s Note: My submission for chan’s 700 followers writing challenge using line #19! This took me forever to find the time between school and life to write and though it still didn’t turn the way I intended, I’m growing to love it. Enjoy everyone! @temperaryheart​

Warning: smut

Word count: 2.1k

Lena tossed and turned attempting to find any level of comfortable on this cold winter night. The freezing air still nipping at her toes as she struggled to bundle up in the enormous pile of knit blankets sprawled across the bed. The fire place had done her zero good being all too modern and puzzling, making it impossible to turn on. 

It was Nick’s yearly winter family vacation to their lodge cabin in Colorado that viewed just across the frozen over lake. Lena had been dating Nick for a little over a year now, making her officially invited to join the Nick’s family and bandmates on this adventure. And what an adventure it had been. Since Lena was a guest on this trip, she’d decided it would be best if her and Nick stayed in separate rooms for the duration of the vacation. Considering this was her first major impression on the extended family, she strived to make it a good one, being as endearing and charming with any chance she got. Which wasn’t too hard considering that was her typical personality. All the love-able qualities that made Nick fall wildly hard in the first place.

But the sleeping arrangement may have been tougher than she had originally anticipated. Lena and Nick typically spent every single night together wether it be at his place or hers. So the past two nights not having Nick by her side had definitely become an unbearable struggle.

Lena’s thoughts were cut short at the sound of a faint knock. Curious as to who it could be at the late hour, she wrapped one of the larger throws across her shivering body and hurried to the door. Her fingers numbed at the feeling of the frigid metal knob turning in her hand. Eyes in complete shock to find her sneaky boyfriend standing on the other side.

“You have got to be kidding me... have you lost your mind?” Lena quietly shouted as she yanked Nick’s body inside, quickly closing the door behind the two before anyone could catch them. “Are you lost or just intentionally trying to ruin my life?” Lena snapped sarcastically at an attitude filled Nick. His eyes rolling heavily in annoyance at his girlfriends words, having been told a million times this trip of the strict rules she’d made to be followed.

“Relax, I just need to grab the jacket I packed in your suitcase for snowboarding with Brandon and Austin tomo-” Nick assured before the chill of the room bit at his skin, cutting him off mid sentence. “Lena what the hell? It’s freezing in here!” he questioned as he wondered about room.

Lena sighed heavily as she pointed towards the source of all her problems, causing Nick to giggle and head over to tackle the fire place. His fingers began fumbling with the many different buttons as they toggled through settings on the side that Lena had spent hours trying to accomplish on her own. 

She caught herself biting gently on her bottom lip as she watched her boyfriend zero in on the situation. Something about the determination on Nick’s face to solve her dilemma surprisingly caused Lena to become flustered on this late winter night.

“You’re all set baby” Nick announced as flames rose to the tops of the brick trimming. The fire illuminated the dim room, inviting her to see all of Nick’s angelic features that she treasured so deeply. His hair a few shades darker from the dampness still clinging on after showering with the tones of his arms practically begging her to be wrapped in them. She’d be lying to say she wasn’t the slightest bit turned on by his presence. And between the sleeping arrangements and Nick’s prior family obligations, Lena felt as though she’d barely seen her boyfriend this entire vacation. It was rare they ever had a second alone.

It didn’t take long for Nick to catch on either. He knew his girlfriend better than anyone else. The way her legs crossed one in front of the other and how rushed she was to have him exit the room indicated all too well to Nick of her need for him. He even noticed the tiny infinite number of goosebumps that trickled down her arms.

“Cold angel?” Nick spoke as he let his fingers softly graze her shoulder, exposed ever so slightly from matching pajama top. He knew exactly what he was doing from the start. His plan all vacation long. He knew with just enough effort, he’d be able to have Lena right where he needed her.

Lena wanted his touch to linger, but still tried to fight it for awhile longer. “I-I’m fine.. I’ll be fine now that it’s fixed so you can um... head back now” Lena mumbled as she cursed herself mentally for the stutters that she knew would clearly indicate her need for more of him.

“You really want me to leave baby? Be honest now” Nick continued as he stepped behind her, now letting his hands run up either sides of her hips. Thin black sleep pants being the only thing keeping her from experiencing the warm touch she’d been missing so much this trip. Lena nodded her head up and down in reply to the boyfriend that knew she was close to giving in.

“Hmm... is that so...” Nick questioned as he let one hand slip Lena’s front and fall beneath the thin lace material, brushing past her soaked folds “...because it sure doesn’t feel like you want me to leave angel” he continued. He slowly slid two fingers inside of Lena as he watched her back arch against him. “So wet for me... just how I like it” Nick confirmed grinning at her mess. His fingers were soft and warm. Easily the most warm thing she’d felt in days. 

“But I can stop and go back to my room... if that’s what you really want” he went on as he removed himself from filling Lena. 

“N-no, please don’t stop baby” she confessed. “W-we really just can’t get caught though okay?” Lena trailed through muffled whimpers due to the immense pleasure she was feeling.

“Guess we better keep you quit then babygirl” Nick whispered as Lena felt chills roll down her spine.

••••

Lena wasn’t sure how or when things grew so intense, but it wasn’t long before Nick’s tongue was working wonders on her most sensitive area. He was nothing shy of amazing when it came to making her feel good. The way he moved quickly but still lovingly enough to make sure he devoured all the mess he’d caused. Something Lena knew she could never grow tired of. 

Glancing down to see his hooded eyes staring right into hers caused more of the sweet moans Nick treasured to slip from Lena’s lips, now incredibly more plump from the many bites she’d made to her bottom one. All failed attempts in keeping herself silent.

“Sh sh sh... remember baby no getting caught?” Nick reminded as he placed one hand over her mouth, allowing the other to make swift circles at the desperate bundle of nerves. He could always tell when Lena was close from the way her toes curled and eyes shut as she wondered into a complete spell.

“There you go baby, wanna cum for me?” Nick coaxed as he aimed to keep Lena’s body movements under control. She couldn’t have nodded any faster, realizing how badly she needed release only after feeling her boyfriends words vibrate against her. “Go ahead mamas let me have it” he replied as Lena let go for the first time that night. Nick was always delighted in how could he could make his girl feel. Sometimes believing he took more pleasure out of it than she did. Nick went on to strip himself of any remaining clothing, throwing it in the pile of Lena’s next to him. 

“I want you to ride me until you cum... can you do that for me baby?” he whispered sternly in her ear. This was always Lena’s most dominant position. It was rare that she ever took control in the bedroom. Her life was full of consistent decision making and being the most put together in any sea of people. So she greatly enjoyed having Nick take charge over her. But every so often, he indulged in seeing Lena get herself off using him.

Within an instant Lena was straddled on his lap, doing her best to slowly take every inch of him. His length took her by surprise each and every time, but the feeling was always intoxicating. No matter how long the two had been a couple, the love making was just as passionate and intense as their first time together. Their bodies always proving to be utterly made for one another.

Lena’s pace steadily increased as she adjusted to the fulfillment Nick was giving. Her head now arching back allowing Nick perfect access to leave markings all along her neck.

“You’re doing so good for me baby... fuck you always feel so good” Nick mumbled into her skin. Lena was doing everything possible to control the sounds that constantly wanted to break free, only allowing slight whimpers to part from her lips. She couldn’t contain the pleasure any longer as she let her high take over. It was everything she didn’t know she needed this trip.

Nick hardly allowed anytime for Lena to recover before his hips were bucking upward into her, knowing his girlfriends legs were too weak to take the lead any longer. The sensitivity hitting Lena so strongly that she couldn’t help but scream his name out so clearly.

“I c-can’t Nick I can’t keep quit anymore” Lena confessed as another extreme plea of his name escaped. The sound so melodic to Nick that he no longer wanted to keep her cry’s contained.

“I know mamas it’s okay...I know you’re feeling good huh? Does this dick make you feel good?” Nick encouraged as his speed grew. It was clear neither of them cared any longer about who heard or caught them in the act. The only thing that mattered was the sensation they both endured from one another.

“Y-yes daddy FUCK IT’S SO GOOD” Lena screamed before releasing on Nick for the third time that night. Hearing the name echo in the room was enough to bring Nick to his high at the same time, holding Lena in his arms for awhile after. So caught up in the moment, Lena had forgotten all about the fire place that had now warmed the room to comfort. She starred adoringly up at Nick as she lay serenely on his chest.

“I love you... you know that?” she affirmed as Nick gazed into her eyes.

“I love you more baby... so much more” he replied with every being in his body. Lena was everything to him. The way she dropped everything to be on this trip while putting up with weather conditions he knew she despised meant the world to Nick. And he truly knew in that moment that the future he saw with Lena... started with forever.

•••••

The next morning seemed to fly by quickly as the earlier festivities ended and packing for departure began. Nick and Lena made it a point to pack everyone’s bags tightly into the cars as Zion joined them outside.

“Need some help with that daddy?” he joked to Nick letting laughter consume him. 

“Wait don’t tell me you hea-...” Lena trailed, instantly becoming paranoid at who else might have heard the events that transpired between the two last night.

“Trust me, you’re just lucky Edwin and I switched rooms with Nick’s aunt yesterday for the extra space or the whole cabin would know by now about your little late night visit” Zion confirmed as he walked back into the house. Nick and Lena starred at each other in panic before busting out in laughter themselves.

“Hey, at least it was just Zion” Nick implied as Lena playfully shoved his arm. She wasn’t irritated in the slightest as originally predicted by her. She had gotten the best of both worlds, keeping her saint image to the family while also finally having a romantic night with Nick. There was little to complain about after experiencing more joy than she ever knew this trip could bring.

[magical-beans]

Chapter 3: The Suicide Squad (Danganronpa x Reader)

(The chapter title is a movie reference only.)

(G/N) = Given Name

(N/N) = Nickname

Possible trigger warnings: mentions of guns, panic attack (nothing graphic)

~死~

Not long after the Office Incident -- merely what Kokichi is calling it now as a short term solution.  He needs a better name than that to retell his much more enthused, dramatic version of the story -- Kokichi called an official DICE meeting.

To be honest, the call was kind of a shock to the other nine members.  They don't often get together anymore now that business is booming, and someone has to supervise.  The only time they really see each other is for heists, and those are only after throwing around several ideas about the next location.  The only things filling their text thread currently are awful memes and check-ins.

It was even more of a shock to discover why he'd called.

~死~

Hearts — Shinzou Yuu — is monitoring the Chinese base of operations when he receives the call from Kokichi.

"What's up, Boss?"

The call isn't necessarily unusual: Kokichi often likes to call Yuu and complain, lamenting about this and that. Yuu's used to it by now.

"Shi-chaaan! You have to help me! I'm traumatized! Someone attacked me with a big, bad gun, and it was sooo scary!"

This should be alarming.

It's not.

It might have been if his voice wasn't whiny and drawn out — if he attempted to be serious for once: but he hadn't. Things don't scare Ouma Kokichi. Not anymore, at least.

Yuu sighs, prepping himself to deal with the worst of Kokichi's dramatics.

There is an odd shuffling sound, and Kokichi's mocking laughter follows. It spills through the speaker on Yuu's end, muffled, as though Kokichi has pulled away from his phone. Yuu thinks nothing of it.

"That's horrible, Boss." Yuu humors him with his words, but his tone is monotonous. Thankfully, that's all it takes to avoid Kokichi's obnoxious crocodile tears. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"Hurt!? Of course not! I'm the Great Supreme Leader of DICE! I have people who would become my human shield if I so much as lifted a finger!"

This is true, but they both don't like to think about it.

The laughter rings out again on Kokichi's end, muffled once more and followed by a playful "Shut up, (N/N)-chan!" Now that is odd.

"Boss, you got someone tied up on your side?"

"Yup yup! That's actually why I called! I got myself a professional human shield! They're awfully grumpy, though, so I might have to kill them before they can do their job!"

His voice is still playful, but this isn't a laughing matter. There hasn't been a case in the last four years of Kokichi finding an orphan interesting enough to introduce to his closest friends. The innermost group of DICE — the heart of it all — is exclusive. They had built DICE from the ground up, and that's special in their hearts. To have someone join that...an outsider, well...

Yuu breathes in deep, closing his eyes momentarily, then sighs. If Kokichi wants to meddle, it's not his problem.

There is a reason Kokichi had called Yuu first.

"I'd love to meet them, Boss," Yuu says, and he knows his voice sounds tired. "Be careful. We trust your judgment, but some of us can be hardheaded."

"Thanks, Shi-chan. When you wrap up business in China, head on back, 'kay?"

Kokichi's voice is softer now, more fond.

Yuu smiles slightly. This new person must really be something special.

~死~

"Hey, Love, what's hangin'?"

Jack — Ippanjin Mayumi — has picked up the phone in Argentina, her syrupy sweet drawl traveling smoothly through the long-distance connection. She traps her phone between her ear and shoulder before continuing to paint her nails.

"Nishi~ Yumi-chan, there's someone I'd like you to meet!" Kokichi giggles.

Mayumi grins. Two can play that game. And she would admit, she is a little curious.

"A romantic partner, Dear? Don't you think it's too early for them to meet your parents? You should know better than to move too fast." Stepping into the role of Mom isn't so hard: playing it for four years will do that to you.  

Kokichi giggles some more and then drops his voice into something akin to earnest.

"They might be the one, Mom."

Mayumi stills, nearly smudging the deep purple on her nails.

"Oh?" She tries carefully, concealing any emotion in her voice. "Is that so?"

"Could you come back to meet them, Yumi-chan? I think you'll like them."

He sounds a little nervous. He must have known this would be a tough call. Adopting is cool and all, but it is also a big decision. Mayumi isn't sure how she feels about adding another person to their tight-knit group. Kokichi seems certain, though. That should be enough.

Mayumi sighs into the phone, resuming her nail painting.

"All right, then. See you in a few weeks, Love."

~死~

King and Spades — Osama Akihiko and Suki Ryuunosuke respectively — race for the phone when it goes off. There's a flurry of limbs and blows, each one trying to hinder the other from reaching it first.

The phone is on its last ring when Ryuunosuke reaches out to grab it and answer triumphantly, Akihiko sprawled on the floor with a pout.

"Heya, Boss! This is Super Evil Demon Number One speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hey, how come you're number one?" Akihiko whines petulantly from his spot on the floor, and Ryuu sticks his tongue out at him.

"'Cause I got here first, Dumbass!"

Kokichi giggles at their banter.

"Well, my loyal servant," Kokichi begins, a haughty tone possessing his voice, "I need to speak with your lesser demon as well."

Ryuu grins. "Lesser Demon indeed!" He says into the phone before turning to Akihiko. "Get up, Hiko. Kichi wants to talk to you, too."

Akihiko sniffles a bit before getting up, wiping his nose, and Ryuunosuke puts the phone on speaker.

"Hey, Kokichi," Akihiko sighs into the phone, the dejectedness palpable.

"That's no way for a prince of Hell to be speaking, now, is it? Be proud of the havoc you wreak!"

Akihiko sniffles again, but this time it's followed by a smile.

Ryuunosuke frowns.

"Why is he a prince and I'm not!? I thought you said he was my lesser demon!" Ryuu whines.

"You're the High General, duh!" Kokichi says brightly. "You have way more power than he does, commanding armies and stuff. Akihiko just has his gross libraries." A faux gagging sound comes from Kokichi's side of the line.

Akihiko huffs, trying to seem both offended and arrogant, but he's proud of his new title. Ryuu can't blame him: High General is pretty freaking cool, too.

"Your Majesty, Sir, how can I be of service to this kingdom today?" Akihiko asks, bowing even though Kokichi can't see it. Ryuu snorts, jabbing him in the side. That earns him one back. That starts a tasing war.

"It's a big request. Are you sure you can handle it?" Kokichi challenges teasingly. Ryuunosuke salutes the phone, as a High General should, and Akihiko snickers. Ryuu tases him harder this time, and Hiko bends over, clutching his side. Serves him right!

"Of course we can, Sir! We won't let you down!" Ryuu is practically shouting, still in salute position.

"Have faith, My King." Akihiko is upright again, composing himself and smoothing out his blazer. "There is nothing we cannot do."

Kokichi's deep breath is audible through the speaker, and both boys tense. If their leader is nervous, it must be something big.

"Someone will be joining your legion soon. I'd like you to return to the castle and train them as soon as possible."

It takes a second, but another grin cracks across Ryuu's face and a soft smile dusts Akihiko's. That's all?

"I don't know why you're nervous, Boss. If you picked 'em, I'm sure they'll survive our impossible training!"

"Under our care, they will be nothing short of perfect. Rest easy, Your Highness."The pair looks at each other, and smiles widen. Ryuu bumps shoulders with his partner in crime (one of them, anyway).

He's not expecting Akihiko to frown.

"What makes you think you can touch me? Me, a prince?"

"I'm a High General! I command the armies!"

"I am royalty, you swine!"

With an angered growl, Ryuu tackles Akihiko to the floor and another wrestling match begins. The phone is discarded, forgotten, and Kokichi's laughter trickles briefly through the speaker before it's cut off, call ending.

~死~

The last five minutes have just been the two of them shouting and elongating each other's names across the phone.

"Taaaaarou!"

"'Kiiiiiiichi!"

Kokichi finally breaks down in giggles.

"Tarou-chan! I miss you!"

Dealer — Diira Tarou — is in America.

Specifically, he's gorging himself on a pound's worth of McDonald's' cheeseburgers and about three large cartons of fries in the safety of DICE headquarters, New York, but details, shmetails.

"Well, I miss you, too, Boss," He says around a mouthful, "Wha'd' ya need?"

"Why would I need anything, Tarou-chan? Can't I check in with my subordinates like a good boss?"

"Well sure, but ya wouldn't call. Is it something big? I can try smuggling these fries back home. It'll be tough, but I guarantee the amount of salt is worth it. This is the kind of heart attack that's worth it."

"Tarou-chan!" Kokichi scolds, but Tarou can picture the smile on his face.

Tarou's laughter is full-bodied, and it shakes him in his entirety. He leans back in his plush swivel chair and props his feet up in the one across from him.

"Can't say I'm sorry, Boss, but I respect your decision. What'cha got for me, then?" Tarou snatches another cheeseburger, chowing down.

"Y'know, I made a friend recently."

"Oh?" Tarou reaches for a fry.

"Yeah. The day after I met them, they ate a whole pizza. A whole one. All by themself. In, like, fifteen minutes. It was gross."

Tarou laughs again but pauses when he hears commotion on Kokichi's end. His boss is snickering, and another voice — one Tarou doesn't recognize — is audible. The voice sounds exasperated, though its words are unintelligible.

Tarou understands, now, why his boss had called.

"Ya'know that if they can't beat me in an eating contest, they can't stay, right?" He says jokingly, a soft smile on his face. Kokichi, though, gives a sage hum of acknowledgment.

"I'll start starving them right now."

The person in the room starts to yell, and Kokichi laughs out loud, nothing like his signature giggle.

Tarou knows already that this person is here to stay.

~死~

"Emi-chan, I want to try on all your new dresses when you get back."

Queen — Ojoou Emi — has been stationed in France, dealing with most of Europe. (Even though there are two of them, King and Spades never get anything done.)

"I was planning on it, Ko-chan! There is this cute purple one that you'll like! Oh, and I got this pair of shoes to go with it and I love them!" Emi sing-songs.

"But your feet are too big, Emi-chan! I can't wear your shoes because my feet are dainty! Ogre shoes won't look any good!"

"I don't know, Ko-chan. You need something to balance out that enormous head of yours." The banter is playful, familiar. Emi doesn't know why Kokichi called, but she's glad he's okay.

"I don't know what you mean, Emi-chan! I'm cute, small, innocent, and perfect!" Emi giggles.  She agrees, for the most part, because he is cute and small and perfect (innocent, though? That's a stretch), but she can't say that to his face. She isn't wrong about his head; it can't take any more inflating.

"Although..." Kokichi trails off, and he says something else, but Emi can't understand him. He must have lowered the phone, but she can't imagine who he could be talking to. "Aha! They do have feet bigger than yours! They're taller than you, though, so I don't know if they count as Ogre Feet."

This makes Emi pause. Who is he talking about?

"Aw, Emi-chan! Can't think of anything to refute this fact that your brilliant leader has presented you with? It seems I've gotten smarter in your absence! I didn't know idiocy was infectious! It must be like STDs, Emi-chan! Now you have to warn someone before you engage in intercourse; otherwise, you could get sued! I should sue you, y'know, for infecting me with your stupidity. I can't afford to get dumber: the world needs me!"

"Who are they?" Emi whimpers softly, shaking with the effort of holding in a whine and ignoring his jabs at her intelligence. She feels heartbroken, like something special she once had is now no longer her own. The tears pricking at the corners of her eyes sting.

Kokichi's monologue stops, and when he speaks next, his voice matches hers.

"They saved my life, Emi-chan. They ran into machine-gun fire to save my life and the lives of probably a hundred others. They're ten, and they're in so much pain, too much pain. And they've never taken a life, no matter how hard life gets. I'm pretty sure they can't take a life. And Emi-chan-" he pauses briefly, listening to Emi choke on a sob before continuing.

"Their smile is the most beautiful thing you'll ever see, Emi-chan. You're going to love them."

Emi sniffles, the tears slipping down her cheeks hot and shameful. She's jealous. She knows she shouldn't be.

Kokichi takes a different approach to calm her down.

"They haven't cut their hair in a long time. If you ask nicely, they may let you play with it, scissors and everything."

Emi's hiccuped laugh is gross but relieved — one short chortle.

Kokichi doesn't even attempt to hide his sigh of relief, breathing out his nervous anticipation.

"I think you'd have a lot of fun dressing them up, too. They don't have a lot of clothes, so they'll have to trust your fantastic fashion sense."

She's smiling now, small and content despite the ugly feeling rolling in her gut.

"Okay, Kokichi. I can't wait to meet them."

"You'll always be my twin, Emi-chan. No one can replace you."

The gross feeling begins to fade. Ouma Kokichi is rarely so soft, so kind, so quiet. Emi loves him like this. Maybe this additional person won't be so bad if they're worth his heart.

~死~

Clubs — Karabu Nobutoshi — is out on the water off the coast of Sydney, Australia when Kokichi calls. He grins.

"You caught me at a good time, Boss. Just made it past the pier. What's going on?" One hand on the wheel, he turns his small schooner downwind, and Nobutoshi grins wider at the thrill in his stomach at the feeling of gliding over the water. Sailing is the best.

"No fair, Toshi-chan! You're having fun without me!" Kokichi whines, and Nobutoshi can see his pout. "Now you have to take me sailing when you come back!"

He laughs, throwing his head back and adjusting the wheel slightly.

"It's cold in Japan right now! You'd have to wait a bit." Then he realizes. "Wait. Come back? Did something happen? Are you all right?"

"Aww, how nice of you to worry about me! You're so sweet, Toshi-chan!"

"Seriously, Kichi. Is it an emergency? I can book a plane ticket home for tomorrow if-"

"Relax, Toshi-chan." Kokichi's playful tone disappears, and he instead adopts a more genuine air. "I'm okay, but I want you to head home once you wrap up business in Australia."

Nobutoshi sighs in relief.

"... Could you tell me why?" He asks, now more curious than worried but still a little hesitant.

"Well..." Oh no. Toshi can hear his grin. "There was some trouble. There was a gun and-"

"A gun! Kokichi, I swear!"

Kokichi laughs.

"Yup! A gun, Toshi-chan, and the evil villain who had the gun wanted me dead!"

"You literally just told me to relax, then you spring this on me. C'mon, Kokichi, I'm getting old! My heart can't take this!"

Forget about sailing, this little gremlin takes up all his time! Nobutoshi clicks on autopilot and rubs his face with his now-free hand. He would need the entirety of his focus for this conversation.

"What!? You're only sixteen, Toshi-chan! Don't worry about me, we need to worry about you!" Kokichi exclaims, sounding not the least bit concerned. Toshi smiles into his hand.

"Well, now you gotta tell me," Nobutoshi says, "because if you leave me on the cliffhanger, I will die of a heart attack and you'll need to dig my body out of the middle of the ocean."

As if he's mulling it over, Kokichi hums, then says, "Well, I guess we can't have that, so I'll tell you. There was a gun, but someone saved me! They beat up the big, bad villain and broke his gun! That's why I'm calling, Toshi-chan: because I want you to meet my savior!"

Okay, so that took a turn at the end. Nobutoshi was not expecting that, not in the slightest.

"Someone new, huh?"Kokichi pauses before he answers. "Yeah. They're a total dork like you, Toshi-chan, so I think you'll get along well."

Nobutoshi forces his brain to work again, forces himself to process the conversation, forces himself to breathe right.

The first breath is too harsh, making noise as it rushes out his nose.

It feels like so long ago now, but after running away from his latest orphanage with Tarou, Kokichi had found them on the streets. At first, they talked. For a long time. About anything and everything and nothing in particular. And then Kokichi brought them back to an abandoned building. It was old and dirty and warm and cozy and everything that home should be. They both stayed the night. And the one after that. Then suddenly they were family, him and Tarou and the small boy with a doll's face and his ragtag bunch of friends.

Family isn't born on a whim.

But then again, Kokichi found them all, so...

Toshi looks out over the calm ocean, drinking in the expanse of blue, and breathes again, slowly this time.

So maybe he should trust Kokichi's judgment. Toshi had trusted him this far; he could go a little further.

"Yeah, maybe we will."

~死~

Trick — Damasu Airi — is surprised to feel a buzzing in her back pocket as she's racing through the outskirts of the Congo Rainforest. She stops for a moment to answer, settling into the nook of a gigantic tree and catching her breath. When she sees the caller ID, she smiles and quickly picks up.

"Hi, Nii-chan," she breathes into the phone, so ecstatic to talk to him.

"Hi, Airi-chan," he says just as softly, and Airi squirms with a feeling of satisfaction, her smile widening. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good, Nii-chan. The trees are pretty and soft here." And it's true. The people are also really nice, especially when she brings food and supplies. Even though they can't understand each other, they are always so eager to help.

"That sounds like fun!" The smile in his voice makes her smile.

"Mhm."

Airi is content to just listen to Kokichi breathe into the phone, and they sit in silence for a bit before he speaks again.

"Airi-chan," he begins, oh so softly. She loves him. "I called to talk to you about something important."

He sounds serious. Airi freezes. Did she do something wrong? Is he getting rid of her? Is she never going to see him again? What's-

"Can you come home? I miss you."

Oh. Yeah, she can do that.

"I miss you, too, Nii-chan."

"I wanted to warn you, though. There is a reason I'd like to see you again." It's okay, a warning doesn't mean anything bad for her, he misses her-

"There's someone I want you to meet."

No. No. Someone new? No way. This new person will make him realize that she doesn't do anything, that she's useless. This new person will take him away from her. He'll leave her all alone and she'll get hurt again and everything will be so cold. She's so useless. Why couldn't she help him? Make him want to keep her? Why can't she stay and be loved and warm and have no new people and-

"Airi-chan." Nii-chan's voice sounds so grainy through the phone. It's another reminder he's not here with her. "I need you to breathe, Airi-chan. Please?"

She can do that. But maybe she can't. Her breath stutters, and it's so hard to get it through her nose and-

"Good job, Airi-chan. Can you do it again for me? Nice and slow."

She loves the way he says her name. She can do it again. For him.

"Good. Keep breathing for me, okay? Can you name five things you can see?"

She can do that, too. When he tells her she's done well, the warm and fuzzy feeling comes back in her chest. She likes that.

"The moss... the leaves... a bird... the dirt... and... the tree branches."

"Hmm, now four things you can hear?"

He goes through the rest of the sequence with her, slow and patient. They've perfected this through all the times it's happened before, and now she's breathing evenly again.

Okay, someone new.

"Their name is (G/N), and they like to protect people from bad guys. They protected me."

Airi likes the way their name sounds, this stranger, so soft and round as she tries it out on her tongue. And they like to protect. Are they like Nii-chan? She might like them if they're like Nii-chan.

"Okay."

Kokichi knows what her word entails, and that's enough.

~死~

Diamonds — Naiya Ren — calls Kokichi first.

"I'm not surprised you called me last," is the first thing he says when Kokichi picks up.

Kokichi hesitates for a moment. Ren takes advantage of his silence.

"If you want to know how I know, Mayumi called.  She said to be ready.  I figured I'd make the first move."

Kokichi stays silent. Good, that means he's willing to hear Ren out.

Ren has been with him since the beginning. The very beginning. As is, the time where DICE was still a fantasy in Kokichi's head. Back when he would share his dreams with Ren while they would play chess with their makeshift set of rocks and chalk and beat-up checkers pieces.

Kokichi's bleeding heart has always been tempered by Ren's calculated indifference.

"I have no issues with employing people around the world to do office jobs and run service counters," Ren says, "but I have told you I don't like it when people get too close to you. You are in a very high-risk position, Kokichi; you're a high profile target. Anyone could want you dead."

"They know who I am." With none of its usual mischief and lightheartedness, Kokichi's voice is lifeless. "They knew who I was when they saved my life."

"Which you, Kokichi?" Ren already knows.

"Does it matter?" He sounds close to tears.

"Of course it matters. Joker is not the same person as Ouma Kokichi and you know it."

The tears are streaming down Kokichi's face now. Ren can't hear them, but he knows.

"I'm making an assumption here, but I don't understand why you told them about DICE, the true DICE, and mentioned nothing to the rest of us. I get that this is your organization, your idea, but I can't help but feel that this is something that belongs to all of us." It almost hurts to say this to him, to treat him like he doesn't feel the same way the rest of them do about this entire thing, but it needs to be done.

"It does. Belong to all of us, I mean. I can't take all the credit, you know." Kokichi's typical speech patterns without his mischief to play along make his words sound eerie and robotic. It's a wonder how he can speak so calmly through his most emotional moments.

"I never meant to imply that you did." That's a lie. "But it belongs to us. Not someone who doesn't know the value of what we've built. Who doesn't understand the journey from the bottom to the top. Who can't appreciate it the same way we do. It doesn't feel fair. This may be petty of me, but I may be the only one who will say this to you. You're too smart to have called us all without expecting this reaction, this feeling."

"I think you're wrong. About the journey. Maybe not with DICE, but they know. And they'll know DICE, too."

Ren sighs. If this is enough to bring him to genuine tears, and enough to keep him fighting after hearing all this, perhaps Ren can hear him out.

There is one question that weighs heavier than all the rest in his mind.

"What makes them so interesting?"

He knows Kokichi. Better than anyone. Playing round after round of chess will do that to you. You get to know how a person's mind works, how fast it works. Kokichi is the smartest person he knows. He doesn't like things that bore him easily.

"What about them is so mysterious that makes you want to keep them around."

Because that's what it's always been. Each person Kokichi has picked up off the street has something more to them than their tragic backstory.

"Their smile."

Shit.

He's getting teary over a smile?

"Fine." Ren gives up. He wasn't sure he would even win this argument in the first place. "I'll meet them. I make no promises about what happens after that."

"Thank you. That's all I ask."

Damnit.

He got played, didn't he?

~死~

As Kokichi puts the phone down for the eighth and final time, he turns to face you with an enormous grin on his face.

"Now," he says, a mischievous smile on his lips, "We wait."

You look at him, trying to decipher what that smile means, whether it's genuine, but give up after a few seconds. You can't read the perfect mask on his face.

At least, not yet.

~死~

I’m actually really surprised that I managed to get this chapter out so soon.

Finally made it to DICE!  I hope you enjoyed their characters as much as I enjoyed writing them.  This is my take on DICE, and if you disagree, that’s fine, let’s agree to disagree.  I’ve seen other representations of these characters before, so I thought I’d try my hand.  I also tried my best to write a panic attack, so I hope I did okay on that, too. 

Thanks for reading!  I’ll be back next week.

[jungshookz]

drabble where jimin is very clingy and friendly and y/n is really quiet and grouchy but warms up to jimin? oof pls or not its all cool ily and ur work sm

→ pairing: park jimin x reader

→ genre: nonidol!au, college!au, jimin is bending over baCKWArds for u, brownies are the solution to every problem  

→ wordcount: 3k

→ note: thank u thank u!!!! i whipped this baby out in two hours because i got excited at the thought of grouchy y/n so if it’s a little choppy i apologize and ALSO i’m literally never getting over this gif of jimin 

(gif isn’t mine!)

jimin didn’t think it was possible for someone to be moRe quiet and grouchy than yoongi

but here you are

y/n y/l/n

physical proof that it is indeed possible for someone to be more quiet and grouchy than yoongi

it really is no wonder as to why you and yoongi get along so well (he’ll never admit that he’s a lil bit jealous of that fact)

the only difference between u and yoongi is that yoongi actually likes him

and

uh

he’s pretty sure you hate him which isn’t great

because jimin likes to be liked!!!!!!!! in fact he loVEs to be liked!!!!!! in fact HE WOULD KILL TO BE LIKED

teehee!

he’s most definitely a people person

you are not a people person

you don’t give a rat’s ass if someone doesn’t like you

that’s one less person to deal with biTch

you kinda just float around and do your own thing

you’re the complete opposite of jimin and usuaLLY he likes to stay away from people like you (no offence) ((and also yoongi is an exception))

..,.,so he can’t quite seem to figure out why he’s developed a teeny weeny little crush on you

“good morning, friends!” jimin chirps and plops down on the ground next to jungkook

you tilt your head up to roLL your eyes and resist the urge to get up and leave

“already?” yoongi snorts nudges your side with his elbow and you shrug in response before leaning back against your palms and crossing one ankle over the other

it’s not like you don’t like the guy

it’s just that you don’t like the guy

you don’t know what it is about him

maybe he’s too chipper for you

yeah

he talks too much

you fully support the notion that if there is a moment of silence it doesn’t always have to be filled up with bLabbing

silence is good

also he’s a try-hard

he seems to have a thing where he just neeDs evERyone to fall in love with him (which sounds exhausting to u)

evEryone who bumps into jimin immediately falls in love with him and you honestly?? don’t understand it

what’s so great about the guy?????

also his giggling is irritating and he does so much of it

not everything is funny

but to be fair you’re a pretty tough nut to crack

the last time you actually laughed was when jungkook tripped going up the stairs and his smoothie flew like ten feet up into the air and proceeded to splatter all over him ((you told him not to tell anyone this otherwise u would kick his ass but u ended up giving him your smoothie and u helped clean him up))

what else do you not like about jimin

the almost twinkly sound of his giggle 

how helpful and kind and caring and thoughtful and generous he is to everyone 

his pouty pillowy lips

his obviously dyed head of dirty blonde hair that always happens to be perfectly tousled and always looks so soft and silky and you would love to run your fingers through-

“y/n, you got any plans for the weekend?” jimin smiles brightly at you as he pulls his lunch out

you stare right back at him before raising an eyebrow and cocking your head to the side as if to say ‘do i fuckin look like i wanna tell u all about my weekend plans u nosy leech’

you shrug

jimin waits patiently for a response

and then it hits him that that was your response

taehyung clears his throat

“well if anyone wants to know about my weekend i’m going to go to this super cool flea market-“

“what do you have for lunch today, y/n? i-i have a sandwich! a turkey sandwich. do you like turkey sandwiches?” jimin tries again and taehyung lets out a quiet sigh before looking at the others like hEre we go again

“what’s not to like about a thin piece of meat in between two slices of white bread?” you respond cooly as you pluck at the grass

jimin buRsts into laughter before pointing a finger gun at you “good one! that was a good one!!”

jungkook winces and looks around to make sure no one else is observing this awkward exchange because yiKEs

“.,,.i don’t get the joke.” hoseok mumbles

jin shakes his head disappointedly “was that even a joke?? what was the punchline??”

namjoon presses his lips together before giving both jin and hobi a pat on the shoulder “.,.,.don’t worry bout it”

everyone knows about jimin’s crush on you

it’s not just limited to people in the group of course

everyone with working eyes knows about jimin’s crush on you

taehyung has tried many mAny times to tell jimin to just move on because it’s clear the romantic feelings aren’t being reciprocated and every time jimin opens his mouth to speak your eyes roll to the back of your head

you’re very nice once you warm up to someone and luckily taehyung has experienced that but he’s not sure if jimin is going to get the Nice Y/N package any time soon

he just doesn’t want jimin to get his heart broken that’s all 

“i don’t get it. what am i doing wrong??” jimin groans loudly and taehyung huffs because it’s obvious they’re not going to get through this movie tonight

he lowers the volume on the television before turning to glance at the other boy (who is currently screaming into a pillow) ((which is very hard to ignore)) 

“i’m telling you, bro - just give up. give uP!!!!!” taehyung snatches the pillow from jimin

jimin immediately pushes his bottom lip out in a pout “but-“

“she doesn’t like you. she doesn’t liKE YOU”

“you don’t know that!!!!!!”

“jimin, come on! we’ve had this conversation like a hundred times and each time you say you’re going to get over her and then the next day you pull a ‘heY y/N do u like turkey SandWiches’ stunT and i swear you fall even more in love when she flicks hair over her shoulder and glares at you in response-“

“what the heLL are you two talking about so loudly?” tae and jimin both turn when yoongi makes his way down the stairs

he lets out a yawn before stretching his arms out “i’m taking a nap and it would be greatly appreciated if you’d just-“

“hyung, get over here and help me make jimin realise that y/n doesn’t like him!” taehyung whines

yoongi furrows his brows

“…why would i help you with that?”

tae gawks at him

“wha- why noT-“

“because y/n likes him. a lot.” yoongi states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world

wait

what

jimin squAwks

“SHE WHAT-“

yoongi immediately winces

maybe it was a bad idea to tell him that

“wait wait wAIT how do you know- like, did she tell you that she liked m- should i text her?? call her?????” jimin fumbles around for his phone and taehyung snatches it from him before he can do anything

“calm down, romeo.” yoongi snorts before taking a seat on the sofa chair and grabbing the remote  

“oh my god- he’s obviously fucking around with you, you dumbass.” taehyung scowls before glaring at yoongi “thanks a lot-“

“no, i’m serious!” yoongi raises his hands in defence “just don’t talk to her on monday and see what happens.”

“if i don’t talk to her then how will i-” jimin huffs and crosses his arms “whatever, tae’s right, you’re just fucking around with me-“

“no, i’m serious!!!!!” yoongi scoffs “don’t talk to her. see what happens.”

“don’t tell me you’re actually falling for this bullshit.” taehyung deadpans

he can see the gears click-click-clicking away in jimin’s little blonde head

jimin shifts in his spot and clears his throat “.,.it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try”

taehyung resists the urge to beat boTh jimin and yoongi to death with the throw pillow

monday rolls around pretty quickly

jimin is ready to taCKle the new week

but he’s also ready to tackle the new challenge of not talking to you and pretending as if you don’t exist

“good morning, everyone!” jimin greets brightly “how was your weekend…”

tae winces

o god

he’s already failed

“namjoon?”

oh

huh

okay

smooth sailings so far

you look up from your phone immediately

your brows knit together in confusion

it’s not that you care or anything but like

usually you’re the first person he talks to after he sits down

hm

whatever

it’s whatever

it’s not like you would’ve given him a good response anyway

“uh, it was alright! i didn’t do that much… how was your-“

“it was good! tae and i watched the new avengers movie which was super exciting!!” jimin pulls out his lunch and you spoT the familiar turkey sandwich

“oh hey!!! i watched that last week!! did you guys like it????”

you’re not really paying attention to the conversation between the guys 

ah

he threw in some lettuce and tomatoes today!

and you see some mustard peeking out

you clear your throat quietly and sit up a little straighter as if expecting jimin to ask whether you like lettuce and tomatoes and spicy mustard in your sandwiches to whiCH you will respond ‘what’s not to like about lettuce and tomatoes and spicy mustard in my sandwiches?’ and he will respond with his usual HAHAHAHA GOOD ONE Y/N

jimin takes a bite of his sandwich and turns to listen to namjoon rambling about the avengers while jin whines and begs him to noT spoil the whole damn thing for him

jimin takes another biG bite and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand

his cheeks resemble that of a chipmunk

it’s cute

wait what

no it’s not

it’s gross

yeaH it’s grOSS

“ooh, you know what else i did over the weekend? i made brownies!” jimin perks up before turning to rummage through his bag

okAY NOW he’s definitely going to talk to you because he knows you like brownies (he’s brought everyone brownies on several occasions and you’ve always accepted them with a grunt and a barely audible ‘thanks’) and you know for a fact he’s going to offer them to you fiRST >:-)

and you can’t wait because ur favourite piece is the middle piece and u and yoongi always fight over it (obviously u always get it because jimin undoubtedly plays favourites)

“yep! fresH, homemade brownies for everyone!” jimin tosses the brownies at everyone around the circle and your toes wiggle in your shoes in anTicipation

you’ve been craving something sweet all day

“ooh, sweEt i got the middle piece.” yoongi mutters under his breath and your head snaps to look at the brownie piece he just caught

wait a sec-

WAIT A SECOND

:(

okay maybe there’s another middle piece for you

you wait patiently and even find yourself offering a meek little smile in jimin’s general direction (which he deFINitely noticed and will shamelessly admit that it made his heart skip a beat)

and then jimin just-

he zips up his backpack

but

where’s your piece???  

you look around the circle and frown when you see everyone enjoying their brownies

“good brownie, jimin!” tae haMS it up after taking a bite

jungkook practically shoves the entire thing into his mouth like a maniac

meanwhile yoongi shoots jimin a subtle thumbs up before gesturing over to you

jimin’s eyes flicker over to you and you two lock gazes for a second before you’re flushing and looking down at the ground

you proceed to pluCK at the grass a little more aggressively than usual and jimin nEARLY coos when he notices your little pout

hook

line

and

sinker

but also he feels kind of bad because his intention wasn’t to make u sad

:((((

“see you guys later!”

“uGh i’m going to late for my history lecture - bye guys!!”

“thanks for the brownies, jimin!”

usually you just sliP away quietly when the end of lunch rolls around but uh

you can’t help but feel like there’s a tiny issue here

“see ya later, loserrrr” yoongi gives your arm a little punch and you scowl before swatting at his hand

and then there were two

you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jimin packing his lunch bag up quietly

a part of you wants to just pretend this lunch didn’t even happen and just spRInt off the field as quickly as possible

and the other part of you-

“hey.”

“oh. hey!” jimin smiles politely and swings his backpack over his shoulder before pointing behind you “my next class is in the maple building so i- woAH”

needless to say jimin is very much surprised when you grab his wrist and yank him over so that that the two of you are standing directly under the oak tree

“how come i-“ you clear your throat before diverting your gaze to the ground

hUH

usually jimin is the one diverting his gaze

interESting

“-ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᶦ ᵈᶦᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵇʳᵒʷⁿᶦᵉ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ”

“how come you didn’t get a brownie today?” jimin repeats “is that it? you just wanted a brownie?”

“well i- i don’t…“

“look, y/n, i actually have a class to get to, so if the brownie is all you’re wanting, i can just bake a new batch tonight and bring you one tomorrow.”

the apples of your cheeks go bright pink

“it’s not just the brownies…”

“then what is it?”

goD

you hate this

your brows knit together in frustration before you look up at jimin with a little glare

“today, you didn’t… talk to me….  at all, and you didn’t…. ask me about my weekend,” you stumble a little over your words because this is a verY unfamiliar situation and you honestly don’t know what you want out of your soon-to-be ramble is but pOp off i guess “-a-and today you had tomatoes and lettuce and mustard in your sandwich and you didn’t ask me if i liked tomatoes and lettuce and mustard in my sandwiches because i would’ve replied with ‘what’s not to like about tomatoes and lettuce and mustard in my sandwiches?’ and then you would do your usual stupid dorky finger gun thing-“

you can’t seem to stop the straight up word vomit just floWing out of your mouth and you haven’t even noticed that you’ve taken a teeny step closer to jimin and he has done exaCtly the same

“and you always give mE a brownie first when you bring ‘em but i-i didn’t get one and not to mention you gave yoongi the middle piece but you already know that the middle piece is mY favourite- mMpH-!”

your brain immediately shuts down when jimin tugs you in and leans down to plant his lips against yours

and as cheesy as it is

time stands still

it almost feels like your soul floated out of your body

like you’re floating in space

oh

this is.,., nice

his lips are awfully soft

and he smells good too

,.,.wait a second

jimin’s kissing you

you’re kissing jimin

YOU GUYS ARE KISSING

you don’t get a chaNce to react before jimin pulls away

he giggles softly when you chase after his lips but soon enough you snap out of your little daze and stumble backwards a little

whAT FHE TUCK

what is going on

what the heCK is going on

“you- i- we-“ you stammer and blink wiLdly at jimin

“we?” jimin tilts his head and smiles innocently “oh, by the way-“ he takes his backpack off one shoulder and digs through it

he holds out a neatly wrapped square “of course i brought a brownie for you. this batch was extra big so there were two middle pieces.”

you take it from him cautiously before unwrapping it

yep

that’s a middle piece alright

the corner of your mouth twitches in a tiny smile before you let out a huff and whiP around to start trudging down the grassy hill

jimin’s shoulders droop in disappointment

shit

maybe yoongi did set him up

oh god

and he kissed you too

that was wAY too bold of a move

now you’re definitely never going to talk to him again 

FRicK

but it wasn’t his fault!!!!!! he thought that-

“oi! you coming?” jimin’s eyes widen when he sees you standing at the bottom of the hill with a hand on your hip “i’m not getting any younger here!!” you turn around and continue the trek off the field

jimin grins widely and pulls his backpack back on

he catches up to you in no time and his heart soArs when you clutch his hand in yours

“does this mean you’ll finally answer me when i ask you how your weekend was?”

“absolutely not.”  

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble tag

[moonlightwinterdxxix]

The same anon here again but now with a tumblr acc seperate from my main for confidently leaving lil' asks around! 😎 (Hats off to you if you can figure out what my username means-) I have another request idea that I thought would be fun! You know how Jyushimatsu has his own Jyushimatsu boy, Eitarou? What if everyone has one too? (Maybe they're all Eitarou's new friends??) Cue to the Sexuplets not knowing how to feel or deal with being a kid's role model?? xD

Hey hey hey! I managed to finish this one, my friend!! 💛💛💛 Let me tell you this: this was a hard one to conceptualize because I never thought of seeing the sextuplets (other than Jyushimatsu, of course) have a little follower like Eitarou was to Jyushi. So this was a bit of a challenge for me 😲🤤😂 Hopefully you still like it! I tried my best to make it fun, but I guess Jyushi’s good attitude was just too strong to get shrugged off. The ending redeemed the story though.

(P.S, I used Detect Language for your username: It’s detected from Chinese and translated into Y I Matsuno???)

~~~

Jyushimatsu was prepared to address the elephant in the room.

But he didn’t, and so he continued to cut. He kept his focus on his scissors as their blades snipped through the sides of the picture, trimming the sight of grass and leaving the yellowish texture of the man’s baseball uniform. He followed the curve of his muscles as he cut, careful around his biceps and fingers as he reached that spot. When he finished this athlete, Jyushimatsu grabbed the glue and flipped the cutout around.

The glue hovered over the picture. But as he heard the silent tapping of thumbs against the phone screen, the elephant had grown too big for him to bear, and he spun around. “Ichimatsu-niisan, you don’t have to do that.”

Sucking in a breath, Ichimatsu shuddered. Then with his face crumpling, he broke into a frail whimper as he rested his forehead helplessly on the table. The phone in his hand chimed with a new notification.

Jyushimatsu faced the rest of the room, showing zero signs of discomfort on his face save for a single drop of sweat sliding from his temple. “Uh, niisan, I think it’ll be a good idea if we talk about it now.” This was a message he sent to the entire room, and all at once, his brothers shuddered in their own misery.

This was their misery: Ichimatsu was on Todomatsu’s phone, which was the worst type of curse someone with social anxiety could have—his whimpering was understandable. Todomatsu, on the other hand, had nearly puked fifteen separate times in the last hour, all because he had to stare at himself at Karamatsu’s desk mirror as he sported the painful glams of Karamatsu’s personalized fashion. That meant a black v-neck under a leather jacket, sparkling pants, strong cologne, and flashy sunglasses. Todomatsu looked ready to pass out.

His back to them, Karamatsu was lying at the edge of the room with his sleeves rolled down, one hand carrying the weight of his head as the other hovered right above his pants line. Beside him lay a wallet with nothing more than a coin—he groaned over the loss of his funds. Osomatsu sat next to him, openly weeping as he scoured through the pages of a list of job offerings that scattered around Akatsuka Ward. And Choromatsu sat by the wall, expression blank and frozen as his hand rubbed the back of a nonexistent cat (there had been a cat earlier, but it had scurried away after Choromatsu had tried playing with it).

For the last few days, this was the behavior of them that Jyushimatsu was quick to notice. Constant trips from a regular routine for Jyushimatsu always had the same results, with his brothers in petrified balls on the floor with muttered reassurances to themselves. Fake smiles saturated the atmosphere that it was no longer pleasant to Jyushimatsu, but he had let it pass for a while if it meant prying on their personal space. But over time it had become too hot to handle, and Jyushimatsu had vaguely managed to gather them up in this room at this very moment, waiting for the right opportunity to break the ice.

And waiting was forever. It was like a fever: the longer it wasn’t treated, the worse it got. He noticed this with all five identical siblings in the room.

That was their misery. And thus, how hard was it to ignore the elephant in the room?

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Jyushimatsu said to them all.

His response was still the chirping birds from outside and the faint whimpering coming from their eldest brother.

Jyushimatsu knitted his eyebrows. “Oi, Osomatsu-niisan, please tell me what’s wrong. Ichimatsu-niisan, Choromatsu-niisan, Karamatsu-niisan, Totty!”

“Ugh! I can’t take this anymore!” Todomatsu finally exclaimed, yanking Karamatsu’s glasses from his nose and slamming it against the table. Karamatsu didn’t do so much as flinch as a reaction. “This is all your fault, Jyushimatsu-niisan! I will never forgive you for this!”

“Eh?!” Jyushimatsu screeched, the outburst catching him completely off-guard. “W-What did I do?!”

“It’s your stupid influence!” Ichimatsu bellowed, following Todomatsu’s example and smacking the phone against the same table. But unlike Karamatsu who let the status of his shades pass, Todomatsu was quick to react as he roared in horror, ready to tackle Ichimatsu as he tried containing himself while Ichimatsu resumed his raging. “It’s your darn, stupid influence this even happened in the first place, you pice of crap!”

“What influence?!” Jyushimatsu asked, entirely lost.

“Eitarō! That’s what!” Ichimatsu blabbered madly, standing from the table as he leaned down and got to his younger brother’s face. Their noses were a nudge away from each other. “If it weren’t for you being such an idiot when it came to stupid children none of this would’ve happened!”

“Why? What happened? I don’t understand what’s going on!” Jyushimatsu protested, slightly inching the scissors into hiding before any of his brothers could take it and use it for purposes outside snipping crafts. “What happened with Eitarō-kun? He and his mother had moved away again a few months ago already!”

“All of you, keep your voices down!” Choromatsu instructed, then added, “Jyushimatsu, take a peek outside, won’t you?”

“Eh? Um, alright?” Jyushimatsu picked himself off the table and brought himself to the window, and when looking outside, he was met with a very familiar sight. Five little boys of similar age ranges, all wearing different hoodies similar to that of the five brothers with Jyushimatsu in the room. All five were yelling at each other playfully, calling to each other the same way the one in their corresponding brother would address his brother.

Meaning, the one in green was slamming the head of the one in red. The one in red was laughing carelessly. The one in purple was trying to choke the one in blue while the one in pink tried to untangle himself from their chaos.

With the relief that none of them had noticed Jyushimatsu, he retreated inside the room again, where Ichimatsu and Todomatsu were both bowed down on the table with matching, glum postures.

Karamatsu sighed, his first time turning towards them. “Jyushimatsu,” he said calmly, “as you can see, it has nothing to do with Eitarō himself, my brother. But if you may have noticed...” He sighed again, getting up from the floor and pocketing his wallet. “Jyushimatsu. Your influence over Eitarō might’ve spread to so much more than him alone. He had a school for a moment, did he not?”

Jyushimatsu nodded.

Another sigh. “Jyushimatsu. The friends your little Jyushimatsu boy has ma—”

“Cod, you’re taking way too long!” Choromatsu interrupted, clicking his tongue in irritation. “Jyushimatsu, Eitarō’s friends learned about the rest of us after Eitarō befriended them in school. And now they’re treating us the same way that Eitarō was treating you. That’s all he needs to say.”

Karamatsu snapped his fingers, but it was not a little bit enthusiastic with his Karamatsu flair. “Bingo.”

“Eh?! Then what’s so wrong about that?!” Jyushimatsu exclaimed, a part of him happy for his brothers’ apparent attention and a part of him concerned over how that was affecting their demeanors. And maybe a part of him was envious too, that they were lucky in that department, and that he had graduated from it long ago after Eitarō moved away again. Even if the boy was fortunate in his romantic life compared to him.

“Isn’t that what you all want? Attention? To be looked-up on? How is this anything bad for any of you?” Jyushimatsu continued.

“I hate it,” Ichimatsu seethed, tone grinding. “I want a girlfriend or something, not someone young to look up to trash like me.”

Jyushimatsu faced him. “You’re not trash, Ichimatsu-niisan.”

“Whatever. I hate the attention. It’s too much pressure for me.” The notification beep from Todomatsu’s phone alarmed again, and Ichimatsu let out a screeching yelp as he pounced backwards like a startled feline.

Jyushimatsu shook his head, letting that pass for now. “How about you, Karamatsu-niisan? Choromatsu-niisan? Osomatsu-niisan? Don’t you feel honored?”

“I do,” Choromatsu answered, falling quite melancholic. “But I’m far from a good role model. Being a NEET is being a disappointment to a parent, and for someone to like being one makes me feel terrible for the pair that raised them. If they wanted a role model, they shouldn’t pick someone who gets too lazy when it comes to responsibilities and self-containment. They shouldn’t pick me.” He lowered his eyes to his lap, and for a moment it was as if he had the first realization that there wasn’t a cat there the entire time. “I’m a fapping loser that goes to idol concerts, scolding his brothers for their misdeeds. I shouldn’t be anything to him.”

His rising was strong for this one, Jyushimatsu pondered to himself.

“Choromatsu’s point is one with its sincerity,” Karamatsu agreed with solemnity tracing his sentence. “And I say that it too serves as my excuse. B-But, just...Tch...” Karamatsu crossed his arms, expression wrinkling. “You all call me painful, don’t you? If someone ever looks up to me, tries to copy me, then doesn’t that mean that they will become painful too? I don’t have any friends because of who I am, Jyushimatsu! Literally everyone I know hates me! I can’t have a little boy copy that example and end up in a place similar to me! Do you think I’m that heartless to want the world to flow in my currents? No! That’s selfish bullhooey!” He collapsed on the table and openly began to cry.

Jyushimatsu averted his attention. “And what’s your excuse, Osomatsu-niisan?”

“Oh, the kid thing is fine, no prob,” Osomatsu stated, voice muffled with his plugged nose. “I like having a follower—I’ve always ever been the god to an empty domain, and I don’t give a crap if the kid becomes a gambling NEET in his future. The other reason I’m actually doing this is because the kid’s got a sweet older sister with sexy-as-hell curves and a giant chest. But, uh...” He sniveled, dropping his face in his hands. “She got pissed because I lost in Pachinko—chicks dig winners but now she rejected me because of my debt in its four-digit amount!” He exploded into sobs.

“Cod, you’re the absolute worst, Osomatsu-niisan,” Choromatsu spat.

“So why are you all acting like this?” Jyushimatsu asked, indicatively flipping his palm. “What does switching activities have to do with anything?”

“We’re trying to throw the kids off,” Todomatsu responded, popping the collar of the leather jacket. He nearly hurled again before he swallowed it down professionally. “You know, kinda stir them enough that we’re gonna piss ‘em off. So they could leave us in peace and harmony.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s working. You’re all failing miserably.”

“For now, perhaps that might be the case,” Ichimatsu stated, returning to nonchalance. “But give it a little time. It might work out better than we expected.” He blanched at the phone screen. “Oh, Cod...! Totty, why is Yanagita on your freaking contacts...?!”

Jyushimatsu eyed them skeptically. “Are you sure?”

“We don’t know, honestly,” Choromatsu stated, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. Mimicking Ichimatsu. “But this is our problem. Don’t bother yourself with it, Jyushimatsu. Just enjoy yourself all you want.”

He wasn’t buying it. “Are you sure?” Jyushimatsu repeated.

“Yeah, we are,” Karamatsu replied, lounging himself lazily on the floor again. “Give it a week or so, Jyushimatsu. You judge then.”

~~~

Jyushimatsu gave it a week. And in that week, things got worse. Worse for his brothers, to be exact, since Jyushimatsu was still living his life filled with sunshine and little Jyushimatsu’s treating rainbows like playground slides. Trips to the park for a run and a swim were fluid with fun, stretching his muscles as brimmed with power as they did on any other day. Jyushimatsu was the only one that was fine. The others were not.

As afternoon met its peak and dusk had been welcomed into the city, Jyushimatsu marched home with his bat slung over his shoulder, vocally shouting out a melody with lyrics he made on the spot:

“Happy, home-run king! I like your joy because it’s jolly! You make happiness go-go-go! Muscle, muscle! Hustle, hustle!”

Only stopping when he saw the five children outside the house gate again. But unlike the first time when they were beating each other up with the role play of their personal ‘masters’, this time they were all waiting there outside with sad expectations. Jyushimatsu found himself unable to approach them as he stood there with the next lyric hanging on his lips, the bat still on his shoulder.

The boy in pink turned around, noticing him. “Oi, it’s Jyushimatsu-san!” he announced.

The remaining four turned to face him, and with the attention that was drawn to him, Jyushimatsu was in no position to escape. And he didn’t think he could, because judging by the kids’ hopeful expressions and dejected eyes, he was certain that both his mind and heart will demand him to stay. For once, he was in charge of what his brothers couldn’t handle, which told a lot about them as people and the situations the Matsuno family could face. And he was willing to do his tasks for today, to learn more.

It was part of Jyushimatsu’s own concept.

Spinning the brim of his cap around, Jyushimatsu gave the children a wide smile. “Yup! It’s me, Jyushimatsu! How can I help you kids?”

But was that the right question to ask, he thought. Because the more appropriate one was: how long have you been waiting here?

“We’re, uh, waiting for your brothers,” the boy in red responded sheepishly, tapping his index fingers together as he bashfully trailed his gaze to the sidewalk. “If you’re going inside the house, can you tell them that we’re waiting for them? We were all supposed to play today.”

“Ah.” Jyushimatsu wanted so much to be in charge of that playing, but he held back on his invitation and nodded instead. He let his boots take him towards the gateway, entering the boundaries that the children had refused entering themselves. At least they still had the respect for privacy that his brothers (and himself, at times) lacked. “I’ll see what I can do,” he told them cheerily. “But if no one goes outside in the next fifteen minutes, you go home. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time on someone who might not come out.”

Because they had been already, since the moment Jyushimatsu’s backside had first faced their house that fateful morning.

“Alright, we promise,” said the boy in purple, and all the others nodded their approval.

“Good kids,” Jyushimatsu complimented, then went towards their house with no more delay. He slammed the door open with all his enthusiasm, and calling out an, “I’M HOME-MUSCLE!!!” he let himself in, whooping as he tossed off his bat and began untying his shoes. He intentionally left the door open so the children may monitor his progress.

“Welcome home, my dear brother Jyushimatsu!”

Jyushimatsu halted his progress, lifting his chin towards the empty corridor. For it was not the deep, theatrical vowels that made Karamatsu’s cadence that returned his warm greeting, but Todomatsu’s exaggerated jovial pipe. With a glance he sent to his behind, the children were just as befuddled by the situation as he was.

“Totty? Was that you? Can you come out?” He was sure to make his voice louder than any of Akatsuka Ward’s flows of nature.

“Ah, my big brother! I’d rather remain where I am! Thank you though, for offering.”

Jyushimatsu gulped. He positioned his boots with the rest of their shoes and let himself in, this time deciding to shut the door before the children receive broken hearts created by their very own masters. He was straight away peering into the living room, where the week’s earlier conundrum was transformed from cringing individuals into absolute clones. It was both fascinating and terrifying all at once, and Jyushimatsu was the one at a loss for words as he continued to view them.

Ichimatsu was happily handling Todomatsu’s phone like it was made of love instead of hellfire. He was smiling the same way he did when they were third-years, with his hair only slightly ruffled, his voice far from its baritone. With the complete absence of nausea, Todomatsu was admiring his reflection in the mirror again, mimicking Karamatsu’s speaking patterns as he carefully adjusted his bangs, looking at himself through the blue world formed by Karamatsu’s sunglasses.

Karamatsu was on his stomach, legs swinging, nose bleeding. He chuckled giddily to himself as he flipped through the pages of one of the mangas they had stored in the house, where plastered on the pages were an unhealthy amount of naked men and women with interacting skin. Osomatsu sat next to him, grumbling and shaking his own head at his annoyance over Karamatsu’s behavior, a notebook in his hand. And Choromatsu was at the corner of the room facing the wall, lying down without a breath in sight. He looked almost dead.

And all of it looked fake.

Jyushimatsu deflated. “Don’t be like this, please,” he said to them, smile dipping entirely. “This isn’t going to help you at all.”

“Eh? What do you mean, Jyushimatsu?” Ichimatsu asked, sounding painfully too similar to how he spoke back when they were eighteen. “Why would you think that help is something we need at all?” The phone chimed, and Ichimatsu excitedly looked through it.

Unfazed, Jyushimatsu narrowed his eyes at him. “C’mon. You know exactly what I mean, Ichimatsu-niisan.”

“And you see that it’s working, right?” Karamatsu grinned, rubbing a finger under his bloody nose. “One week indoors, and everything’s turning out fine and dandy.”

“No it’s not!” Jyushimatsu contradicted, spreading his hands. “You’re letting down the hopes of little children by completely ignoring them! You’re crushing their dreams! You never know—the reason they’re so happy is because they’ve never learned how it was to be truly happy before!”

“That’s not possible,” Choromatsu deadpanned, barely moving. “None of us would make anyone feel happy. Well, except you, Jyushimatsu. You’ve made a small boy happy once and a girl too. The rest of us are human trash.”

“That’s not true,” Jyushimatsu countered, taking his cap off and squeezing it apprehensively. “All of you managed to make someone happy before. You might not know it, but with the number of people here in Akatsuka Ward, there’s at least one person you’ve given joy. And to be able to do that, to offer happiness like that, I bet that’s what those children want to learn from you.”

The room’s atmosphere shifted, the personas drawn up dwindling slightly.

“Name one person any of us had ever made happy, Jyushimatsu,” Osomatsu challenged, breaking the tension brimming the air.

“Aside from each other? Well then.” Jyushimatsu cleared his throat as he sat himself at the table, right between Ichimatsu and Todomatsu. The former didn’t look invested in his messaging as the latter had stopped admiring himself and was staring at the surface of the table.

“Osomatsu-niisan,” Jyushimatsu began, “when we were kids, you gave equal relief to both Iyami and Kemunpas when you took the caterpillar off Iyami and brought Kemunpas to a nice set of trees in the park. But gratitude was more evident for Kemunpas since he had been very hungry that day, and for you to be so nice as to give him a lot of food is something that made him feel better. You made him happy. And for a while, you gave Iyami relief as well because the earth knows how scared he is of insects. So there. That’s one, Osomatsu-niisan.”

Osomatsu dipped his head, shaking it slightly.

“Karamatsu-niisan, remember that week after you and that ugly flower girl almost got married?” Jyushimatsu continued. “When we went to visit Chibita at the oden stand, and still that week we all noticed how salty the oden was? Well, after the rest of us decided to go ahead home, you chose to stay a little longer to talk to Chibita and ask if he was alright. Of course since none of the rest of us were there, I couldn’t say that I know what happened. But for sure the following evening all the oden tasted better than before, and Chibita was filled with new life.” He darted his eyes over the two oldest sons. “That’s two.”

Karamatsu exhaled through his nose, folding his arms.

“When you were out to get kerosene, Choromatsu-niisan, you met the tribe girl,” Jyushimatsu resumed. “As happy as she and her people were giving you your needs, you returned the joy to her. There was a reason the two of you almost got married, right? That’s because you wanted to be together for a long time. And if we hadn’t crashed the celebration, you might’ve still been together today. But for the time being, you made her happy just the way she did for you. It’s one of the first romances in our family that nearly worked out.” He held up three fingers. “That’s three.”

Choromatsu hid his face in the corner of the wall.

“As for you, Ichimatsu-niisan, do you remember ESP Kitty? That experience speaks for itself. Actually, the situation kind of reminded me of the situation of Chibita and Gonta, if you remember that. It involved an argument between owner and feline, but it was because of the feeling of self-loathing and selfishness. But despite that, Ichimatsu-niisan, you always managed to offer cats with the kindness they never received because of their lack of ownership. ESP Kitty is the same. And now he’s the family pet! He loves you so much, Ichimatsu-niisan. He really missed you when you were apart.” Jyushimatsu smiled. “That makes four.”

Ichimatsu lowered the phone, and his head.

“Totty, you made Totoko-Chan very happy recently,” Jyushimatsu said. “Or, at least more understanding. But if it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have given Kin-chan a chance. After Osomatsu-niisan exposed her during dinner, you were the one that followed to approach her, and as a whole we explained to her the status of our relationship with Kin-chan. When she needed to return, we were all surprised to see Totoko-chan arrive with a giant fish souvenir for Kin-chan to take home! And it was because of your initiative, Totty! You started it like a ripple, and so everything worked out in the end! Won’t that make five?”

Todomatsu took off the sunglasses and placed them on the table.

“See? You’ve made loads of people happy before! And I bet it's that simple influence those children want from every single one of you.” Jyushimatsu put a hand over Ichimatsu’s shoulder, another hand clasping Todomatsu’s hand. “But I don’t think it’s only about making others happy, niisan, Totty. I think they just admire how happy we are in general. We don’t let the world bother us, and when it tries to we always try to find a way around it instead of just plainly laughing it off. There are so many people who give in to failure so easily, but we don’t! So maybe that’s what they want!”

The room was all silence. It was Todomatsu who broke it, chuckling lowly, before saying, “Why didn’t we mention all this stuff when we were being judged for hell?”

“Um, slipped my mind?” Jyushimatsu offered, grinning nervously and sheepishly.

“That’s a shame,” Karamatsu chuckled, wiping off the red on his nose. “We could’ve been bathed with the kisses of angels might you have thought this roster sooner, Jyushimatsu.”

Jyushimatsu laughed, getting up. “Well, either way, it’s the truth. I don’t think it’ll be healthy if you go out to talk to those kids now, so just get yourselves together. I’m gonna send them home or something first, because it’s getting late. Then we can all have Mom’s dinner together! Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Osomatsu agreed, genuinely satisfied. “Tell them to give us one more week to think a little or something. Then we’ll accommodate them.”

“Okie-dokie!”

So he did.

~~~

After that one week, Jyushimatsu returned back to the house to find it empty. No sign of his brothers nor any children anywhere. His shoes were the only one present by their entrance, and their mother was hyperventilating in relief to find one of her sons actually returning home. She revealed that she was worried for even someone as self-isolated as Ichimatsu to be absent meant that they might’ve been in trouble. Jyushimatsu shared his worry, and had agreed to go out to try searching for them.

And setting out of the house for his second run that day, he saw them one by one.

First, it was Karamatsu at the park, clapping like a proud mother in her child’s talent show as the little trainee of his modeled off some Karamatsu-esque fashion near the slide. Though a few passersby were shooting them with pointed looks and horrified glares, neither of the two seemed to mind as they continued their little fashion show in their own joy. Jyushimatsu caught Karamatsu’s eye for a bit, and they gave each other thumbs ups before Jyushimatsu moved on.

Todomatsu was at Sutabaa with the kid, conversing with him in their own dessert-dinner. Though Aida and Sachiko often opted to make conversation with the youngest Matsuno, Todomatsu always kindly dismissed them and returned to showing his specific kid a few videos from the new popular trending app called MatsuTok. The kid was invested in each activity as he munched over the cheesecake prepared in front of him and the ice-blended drink at his side. Both he and Todomatsu were beaming.

Then at the alleyway, Jyushimatsu saw Ichimatsu with his own kid, tending to a few stray cats by giving them dinner. Ichimatsu was the one who poured some of the cat food in the bowls, and it was the child’s duty to give the bowls to the cats. The two of them had an entire kingdom gathered around them, and both smiled down at the sight as if they were the king and prince. Both of them were very happy, judging by the straight spine of Ichimatsu that he so seldom wore. And his light...Ichimatsu rarely had light in his eyes. For so long, they were always dead.

And at the book fair, Choromatsu was with his little boy, both of them looking through intermediate-age books specifically. Choromatsu had a pushcart as he gleefully watched the boy look through the collections of novels spread out on the tables and shelves, looking through titles involving wizards and witches, demigods and immortals, and a lot more. The cart was nearly filled with books, and it was a wonder how on earth they were going to pay for that, but it looked as if there was no issue whatsoever with the calm demeanors of Choromatsu and the boy.

Sighing, Jyushimatsu decided to retreat, maybe tell their mother that the rest of them were fine and could handle themselves. It was nice, he mused, to see all his brothers realize more about their happiness not only for themselves but to others as well. Goodness continued to spread, and it was a miracle that any of the Matsuno brothers managed to offer those sorts of kind miracles.

So as he spun his heels and began jogging off, the last thing he expected was to hear his name slicing through the winds like a warning sent from both heaven and hell, stopping him in his tracks before someone’s hand yanked his arm and dragged him off in a hurry.

“O-Osomatsu-niisan?!” Jyushimatsu yelled, managing himself and running alongside his eldest brother as they scurried through the city’s streets.

“Jyushimatsu, we’ve gotta hide! Now!” Osomatsu ordered, clearly distressed. His respective kid was nowhere in sight.

“E-Eh?! What’s going on? Where’s your kid?” Jyushimatsu scanned their surroundings as they ran.

“Yeah, about that,” Osomatsu began, turning green. “So, here’s the thing: we lied. We all lied. Or it was partially the truth, but the real reason why we chose to leave the kids off wasn’t because of the lack of self-appreciation, but because like what I said the other week, because of a hot older sister. So they kinda found us out and want to kill us now, especially me, because I kinda sorta...uh...”

Jyushimatsu’s stomach dropped. “You groped her, didn’t you?”

Osomatsu’s cheeks went cherry. “It’s a...long story,” he admitted.

Mood fouling, Jyushimatsu’s teeth gnashed against each other as he contained himself from strangling that neck in sight. “Osomatsu-niisan, I am literally going to kill you for...! Wait, what do you mean by ‘they’?”

Osomatsu looked ready for the ground to swallow him whole. “Yup, all of those kids have hot older sisters. But none of our other brothers had done anything remotely close to what I did, but with the knowledge of having five lookalike brothers they kinda formed a little mob of sorts and want our heads on plates. So that’s why I’m running for my life, you know? Though I don’t think it’s a bad thing to die when it’s a hot-damn babe that’s in charge of separating my soul from my body.”

Oh, the nerve. True as it may be, that effing liar. “Oh, you are do dead,” Jyushimatsu seethed, frown deepening. “I’ll take care of splitting your soul before any of their sisters could do that.” Jyushimatsu released himself from Osomatsu’s grip, and from behind his back he magically pulled out his nailed baseball bat.

“No, no!” Osomatsu protested, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. “Please, man, let’s talk. It was a misunderstanding as it was a bit of wordplay. So don’t be mad, baby bro! I’m completely innocent here and I promise that—!”

“THERE THEY ARE!!!”

The two brothers turned. “EH??!!!”

“GET THEM!!!”

“What the—?!” Jyushimatsu and Osomatsu barely had time to react as a crowd of pretty (but mostly fuming) girls pounced over them and formed a dusty war cloud full of angry screaming and weeping protests. The nailed bat of Jyushimatsu got tossed out of the cloud as the screaming resumed, landing next to a set of four discarded unconscious lookalike bodies.

[notsoharsh]

How to Make a Mimesicle || Kaden & Harsh

Kaden and Harsh’s accent comparison gets a very rude interruption. Flipped needs a new... well, everything.

Comparing accents was probably one of the weirder excuses Harsh had found to meet up with someone, well… recently at least. No one in White Crest ever wanted to just go for coffee, it always had to be something a little odd. Whatever, he wasn’t complaining. Kaden seemed alright. The last, and well only, time they had met before, he hadn’t been in the best shape, but Harsh could hardly blame him for that. Getting stabbed didn’t generally put people in a great mood. Hopefully tonight would end a little less bloody. Harsh got to Flipped a little early, scouting out a booth near the back. As… retro as the place looked, it seemed harmless enough. He spent a few minutes flicking through the menu before the sound of the door opening caught his ears. Head tipping up, a slight grin slid onto his face as he lifted a hand. “Kaden, over here man. Saved you a seat.”

Ever since they tried and apparently failed to blow up that fucking mime restaurant, Kaden couldn’t help but check behind his back every few mintues, make sure nothing was following him. Maybe it was the paranoia of being caught for something that apparnelty had no fucking conseuqences or it was all the reports of mime clones, but he couldn’t help it. He took one last drag of his cigarette before he threw it to the ground and stomped it out, swinging open the door and stepping inside. Had to say, he was pretty sure the last time he was at Flipped was when he struck a deal with Morgan that ended up with the very jacket he was wearing now, all good and new. He caught sight of Harsh and gave a nod before heading over to take a seat. Honestly, he still doubted anyone who wasn’t French could hold a proper conversation but he was willing to take the challenge, find out. Why not, he didn’t have much better to do. Plus, getting his mind off mimes seemed like it was for the best. Still, didn’t like sitting with his back to the door. Putain, he was getting fucking paranoid now. “Hey. Or rather, bonjour,” he said, smug smile on his face. “Have to say, I think there might be more people in this town who speak French than half of Maine. I didn’t expect that when moving here.”

“Yeah? I haven’t met too many yet. So far, I think it’s just you, and me, of course.” Switching tracks was relatively easy. It had been a while since Harsh had had a reason to break out his French, but slipping back into it was as natural as… well, it was far more natural than breathing was now, actually. There was something nice about getting back into it. Sixty years with the language had given him a pretty solid grasp, and… maybe he liked showing off a little. He shifted in the booth, kicking his feet up onto the empty space at his side. “So what brought you to White Crest? I’m guessing it wasn’t cause the mimes in France weren’t terrifying enough.” His grin grew, one eyebrow rising in a slight challenge. Maybe it wasn’t the best move to bring up the mimes first thing, but they seemed to be on everyone’s mind lately. Harsh had heard a few weird rumors going around. Well, more than usual anyway. There wasn’t a week that went by without some kind of nonsense throwing everything into chaos. “Sorry, that’s probably a sore spot. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I know at least three others,” Kaden replied. And funny enough two of them were hunters. “Maybe four or five. Depends on if you count Colombian French.” The accent wasn’t bad. But he wasn’t going to ever admit it. He couldn’t allow himself to ever say that anyone who wasn’t from France was good enough at French. Those were just the rules. Still, it was always nice to have a conversation in his native language. It always felt easier. “Putain de merde, no. If I knew there was this much bullshit mime crap, I never would have moved here.” He rolled his eyes. It seemed like no one would ever stop teasing him about this mime shit so long as he stayed in town. He probably should get over it, but he refused to get used to it. “It’s fine. But I’ll take your free coffee.” It was strange, he felt it again, that odd chill down his spine. It wasn’t the werewolf sense, not at all. Just a bad fucking feeling. “So. You're alright. Where’d you learn?” There was a bell signifying the door opening, but not a single other sound. That wasn’t unusual, right? He looked over his shoulder. Was that… a flash of black and white stripes? No. Couldn’t be. Fuck. 

“Really? You’ll have to introduce me sometime. The only French that doesn’t count is whatever the hell they speak in Canada,” Harsh said, with a little chuckle. It wasn’t often that just talking to someone was fun, but Kaden was interesting, a little rough around the edges, sure, but Harsh would be a pretty big hypocrite if he knocked him for that. “I lived in France for six years. I hung around Paris mostly. I know, very touristy--” He trailed off, half looking for a waitress to order that coffee. But then he glanced back at Kaden and frowned. His mouth was half open to ask what was the matter when he started following the path of Kaden’s eyes with his own. “Holy shit. What… what is that?” Harsh looked between Kaden and… the thing that had just walked in. Every muscle in him went tense. Whoever it was that just walked in looked… well, just like the guy sitting across from him, except with a really, really shitty sense of fashion. “Friend of yours?” he asked, voice low, his tone forced. The silence in the air was heavy, unnaturally so. Whatever that thing was, Harsh could tell with just a look that it probably wasn’t friendly.

“Paris, of course.” Kaden shook his head with a small laugh. At least the guy was aware of how cliche it was. “I’m from Lyon. Grew up there. Ended up in Montreal eventually so trust me when I say you don’t want to hear how any of them speak up there.” His brows knit together as he saw the look of shock across Harsh’s face. He turned back to see his paranoia more than confirmed. Looking up was like looking in a mirror. Well, a funhouse mirror. Or a nightmare. Before he could say putain, the mime was pulling Kaden out of the booth by his shirt and threw him on the ground before kicking him in the gut. Shit, he didn’t fight this dirty, did he? That was some bullshit. Kaden ducked and rolled out of the way, wincing in pain to avoid a second kick. He was fumbling to pull out a knife from his boot when he saw a flash of a blade come down. Kaden went to cover his face with his arm, but the knife slammed right into his foot, through the boot. Kaden howled in pain. What the fuck? And was that a fucking knife shaped like a baugette? Did he just get his foot slashed by a bread knife? Shit. He took his free foot and kicked his own fucking grease painted face. Probably shouldn’t have felt as cathartic as it did. 

Cursing under his breath, Harsh jolted in his seat. He had seen plenty of wild things in White Crest, but this one was going to take the fucking cake. For a second, he stared, mouth open, shock freezing him in place. It lasted only a moment before he sprang to his feet, letting out a yell as he tackled the terrifying version of Kaden. They both fell to the floor in a heap, elbows and knees flying. Not for the first time, Harsh was a bit glad he didn’t need to breathe or the air would have been driven from his lungs a dozen times over. Still, Not Kaden clearly knew how to land blows that hurt. Rearing back, Harsh drove his fist into that horrific copy of Kaden’s face before frantically glancing about. “Knife--where’s his fucking knife?” His question was answered a second later as the blade slashed across his side, a fist following it, sending him crashing back to the floor, hissing in pain. He expected another strike, but it didn’t come. Huh, apparently he wasn’t the target here. “Kaden, move!”

Kaden was shocked at how fast Harsh reacted, throwing himself into the fight and holding his own against this mime fucker. Was he a hunter, too? Maybe. Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter. The knife ripped out of Kaden’s foot with a sick squelching sound. Hurt like a bitch, too. Shit, didn't have time to care about that as he watched it swing and dig into Harsh’s side. Putain. He grabbed his own knife that he was hiding in his now very punctured boot. It was almost like the mime could mirror his movements, though. As soon as he put his arm up to shield himself from the nex attack, the knife tore into his arm. Fuck. He knew it looked like him, why the fuck did it know how to fight like him. He couldn't out think himself. It wasn’t possible. Still, he took all his weight and threw himself into the mime, hoping to knock him out of focus long enough for Kaden to toss the knife to Harsh. “Here!”

“Shit.” This fucker meant business. Harsh scrambled up, barely catching the knife. Kaden had the mime’s attention, he could run, leave the pair of them to duke it out. No, no that definitely wasn’t good. He shifted his grip on the knife as he rushed in. The mime was occupied, too busy trying to maul Kaden to see him coming. Grabbing that shaggy hair, Harsh yanked the mime’s head back roughly and dragged the knife across his throat. Whatever poured out of the wound… it wasn’t blood. The smell was wrong, the color too. It spilled down the mime’s front, far thicker than blood should be. Harsh took a step back, forcing down unnecessary breaths to make his chest heave as the mime sank to the floor. The… whatever it was lay there for only a moment before a cloud of smoke appeared from nowhere, the stripes of it more than unnatural. And then the body was gone. Harsh turned his incredulous eyes to Kaden. “The hell was that thing?”

Some of the black ooze splattered on Kaden’s face as he watched the blade slip across his clone’s neck. It was fucking weird seeing his own throat getting slit. Even a terrifying mime version of himself. Huh,did his hair really look like that in the back? Shit, he didn’t get long to wonder. The bastard oozed more sludge and then went up in a striped puff  of smoke. “Putain de merde,” he muttered mostly to himself, running a hand through his hair as he sunk back down to sit on the floor. “I don’t know. Heard people talking about mime clones. Guess I’m just lucky enough to get one too.” What the fuck had just happened? And more importantly, how had his latest aqcuaintence handled that so adeptly? “Thanks. By the way. You do this kind of shit a lot?” He should probably stand, get off the floor, maybe sit in a booth, order the whole pot of coffee. Then he heard the fucking bell in the door jingle again and he tensed up. No. It couldn’t be. There was no fucking way.

Leaning heavily on the booth, Harsh pressed a hand to his side. At least the jacket he was wearing hid the fact that he wasn’t bleeding quite as much as he probably should be. He could pass it off, say the cut wasn’t that deep. “Do I kill a lot of mimes that look like people I know? Nah, that’s a first for me. But uh…” He had a good line about fighting, being able to hold his own, but it shriveled up and died on his tongue as he looked to the door. His shoulders fell. “Oh come on.” Harsh turned, grabbing for Kaden’s hand, trying to tug him to his feet. “This thing is just gonna keep coming, we’ve gotta go, man.” He looked around, mentally scrambling. There had to be something--another way out of this place, or somewhere they could trap that fucking thing. His eyes found the backdoor and he started toward it, yanking Kaden along with him. “We’ve gotta get out of here, now.”

Cursed. Kaden was fucking cursed. That’s what it had to be. Moving to this town somehow invoked a goddamn mime curse on him. Everyone else said their doppelgangers disappeared. But here was this fucker coming through the goddamn door again. And he wasn’t aware his own face could look that angry. Putain. He scrambled up off the floor with Harsh’s help, hissing in pain as he stepped on his injured foot. Shit, that was going to take a while to recover even with super healing. Kaden’s eyes darted back and forth as the mime came closer. Back door was close, sure, but after they ran out? He couldn’t make a dash for it, not like this. And he was sure this piece of shit would keep coming. His eyes landed on the kitchen door. “Over here,” he said, darting to the door, shoving Harsh through. “Find something to trap him, anything!” Shit, might be hard. If what he knew was right, this shit had his own enhanced strength. Fuck. He turned back to the mime version of himself, waving his arms to get his attention, something he really didn’t need to do. “Hey! Right here, connard! Follow me!” Kaden shouted in French. He then ran through the door, his clone close behind. Hopefully Harsh was quick on his feet or this was going to end poorly.   

The kitchen? What the hell was he supposed to use to fight a mime in a kitchen? But Kaden had a point, dragging that thing out into the world wasn’t going to make dealing with it any easier. At least the kitchen staff seemed intent on making themselves scarce, so there was no one stopped Harsh as he frantically rushed about. What could they use? Where could they put this damn thing? His eyes darted about, stopping on the heavy metal door of the walk-in fridge. Huh… that might work. Harsh rushed over, hauling it open and glancing inside. Oh yeah, definitely enough room for a mime. “Get it in here,” he called over his shoulder, already looking around for something to bar the door with. He remained rooted to the spot. The second Kaden got the damn thing inside, he meant to slam it shut. 

Running sucked a fucking lot right then. He could feel blood sloshing around in his shoe. Didn’t matter, he just had to get the fucking mime trapped. After he popped into the kitchen, Kaden hid to the side, waiting. The second he saw that stupid fucking beret and mop of hair walk through, he swung a punch right in his own face. Bastard dodged enough to miss the full impact of his fist. It was still covered in grease paint, all the same. And enough to throw the mime off balance. Kaden took his bloody elbow and slammed it into the side of his body double. The fucker came back with a knife. Of course. Kaden reached out and grabbed for the knife and got his wrist. Before he could turn it, the mime and yanked his own in a circle, pulling the joint the wrong way. Fucking shit, this wasn’t going graet. His head shot over to look at Harsh at his words. Great. Fridge. He could do that. Hopefully. Kaden stomped his foot down (the good one) onto the mime’s and used the wince of pain to pull his arm free and run. Well, hobble  in a running fashion. The mime didn’t even look like anything Kaden had done had phased him; it was barreling down on him like it had no other focus than the hunt and Kaden was his prey. Not a position Kaden liked to be in. He dodged past counters, grabbing a shitty kitchen knife off one of them along the way, and ran round tables before planting himself in front of the open door. The mime pushed his way there, and rushed at Kaden, full speed ahead, knife in hand. Thank god he could count on his stupid impulses to be good for something. Kaden waited, stood his ground, until the last fucking second when the threw himself out of the way, sending the mime tumbling into the fuckin freezer. “Close it! Fucking close it!!” he shouted.

Harsh didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the mime stumbled in, he slammed the door of the fridge shut and held it tight with all his might. There was a frantic thumping against it, the mime clearly not too happy with his new environment. The door shifted, but only just, the weight of it and Harsh’s strength keeping it from moving even an inch. “We gotta get something in front of it!” He glanced about, panicked. “Grab something! Can you move the stove?” Kaden seemed to be quite a bit stronger than he looked, especially if his twisted double was any indication. Harsh grit his teeth, shoulder slammed against the door as he forced it to remain in place. “I can’t keep this up forever, man.” Even vampire strength has its limits, though Harsh had never expected those to be tested by a fucking mime. If he never saw another one of them after this it would be too damn soon. 

Kaden should have known better than to assume it was over once the door slammed. Shit. He pushed himself up and started looking around for something heavy. Not a damn thing came to mind until Harsh shouted about the stove. “The fucking stove?” He could see the other guy struggling. Fuck. Stove it was. He shoved the tables and shit out of the way and pulled back on the stove, dragging it out as far as he could before running to the other side and shoving it with all his strength. “Move!” He shouted before slamming it in to place right up against the door. He backed off a moment. The pounding against the door continued but it seemed to hold. Kaden sighed as relief washed through him and he leaned against the stupid stove. A quick glance around and it was impressive how quickly they’d manage to trash the place. Guess he couldn’t give Ricky too much shit about Al’s now. Wouldn’t stop him. “Uh, think we should put up a sign or something?”

At Kaden’s shout, Harsh jerked out of the way, the stove taking his place. He leaned against the wall, forcing down a few unneeded breaths. He faintly shook his head. “Y’know, now I’m really sorry for teasing you about the mime shit. These fuckers really seem to hate you.” Pushing himself off the wall, he glanced at the thumping door. Hopefully no one would be stupid enough to open that for a while. A sign? Harsh cocked an eyebrow and glanced around. No pens, but… there was a squeeze bottle of ketchup. He grabbed it and leaned over the stove, writing ‘occupied’ on the fridge door. “There. So… I’m thinking we go somewhere else to get that coffee I owe you?”