#no one else can fix me only queue

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 GAMES

EDIT: shit i forgot this was in queue 😓 merry christmas i guess (if you celebrate)

Her fingers worked furiously, eyebrows furrowed and lip tucked between her teeth as she breathed heavily, "Fuck!" She groaned, leaning back against the chair as she threw her head back against the headrest softly. Her fingers slowed to a halt, stopping her moments entirely to breathe for a moment.

"GAME OVER," the screen read, flashing white for a moment before it asked if she wanted to play again. And, of course, she pressed, "YES." Billie had been at this for what felt like an eternity, playing some stupid video game instead of paying attention to you. Not even your lazy attempts at bringing her water worked, and it was starting to irritate you intensely.

So, you finally pull the oldest trick in the book: Whining her name lowly, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed as you squirmed on the bed. Her posture was quickly fixed as the sound reached her ears, fingers pausing once again on the controller she held so possessively. Then, the screen paused, and Billie finally set the controller down on her desk, spinning around in her chair.

Her eyes landed on you immediately, clad in only your undergarments as it was almost midnight. Way past the usual time you and her fell asleep, "What's wrong, Ma?" She asks, voice husky due to the insane amount of yelling she'd done in the past few hours. Her tank top hugs her chest perfectly, and as she stretches, you can't help but stare at the dragon tattoo that peeks out as the fabric rides up.

She yawns quietly before manspreading, hands resting on her clothed thighs. She hadn't even gotten ready for bed before she started the game, and even that was irritating you. You whine again, your pout deepening, "Want'chu in bed, Bills..."

Billie's lips curl into a smirk at your tone, her tattooed hand coming up to run through her soft hair. It doesn't even take you ten seconds to scurry into her lap whenever she motions you over with her two fingers, clinging to her body like you hadn't seen her in a million years—Because that's what it felt like. Her head nuzzles into your neck, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume as her hands wrap around your waist, holding you possessively.

Your body shakes slightly, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of her touch for the first time in a few hours, earning a quiet, amused chuckle from your girlfriend, "Someone's excited to see me, hm?" Billie comments, one of her ring-covered hands coming down to pat your ass softly. Your hips buck subconsciously, arms wrapping tighter and tighter around her body as your breath becomes uneven.

"Jus' missed you," quickly falls from between your lips, voice quiet and laced with sleep and something else. Something she can't quite put her finger on. Your eyes flutter shut as you relax in her embrace, your hips continuing the slow, grinding movements against Billie's lap. It's only when you mewl straight into her ear that she notices what you're doing and what you're feeling, "I can tell."

Your arousal leaks through your panties, coating a small patch of her sweatpants. Billie gasps just to humiliate you, "Missed you—Bills, missed you s'much." You babble, hips starting to move faster with the help of your girlfriend's hands guiding your movements, "Wan'—Need you, baby," you cry softly, voice breaking. Billie stays silent, her breathes becoming heavy, head falling back against her headrest.

"Yeah?" She asks, voice teasing and raspy. Her nails dig into your hips, eyes locking onto yours as she pulled away from your neck, "Well, c'mon, show me how much y'missed me, babygirl." She nods her head towards your trembling figure, a devious smirk playing on her lips. Your cunt clenches around nothing, clit throbbing with each movement of your hips, head lolling back and revealing more of your neck, "S—So mm..much!"

"Missed you too, sweetie," she mutters, biting her bottom lip as her hands continue to rock you back and forth on her lap. She's already dripping herself, and she swears she could cum just from the sight of you alone, "Sorry for bein' so distracted. Didn't mean to ignore my pretty baby's needy pussy." You huff at her words, sweat beginning to bead on your hairline, "Gonna cum—cum f'you, Bills!—"

Her hands are quick to halt your grinding hips, heart beating rapidly in her chest as she looks up at you with that same mischievous glint in her eye that never left. She spun her chair back around, hands leaving your hips to grab her controller once again. God, you never thought you'd be able to hate an inanimate object as much as you hated that stupid controller.

"One more game." She breathes into your ear, kissing your jawline, "Then I'll treat you better than ever."

𐙚 amiyaps : how not to hate every single thing I EVER WRITE

𐙚 tags : @sophloveswomen @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[ckret2]

Chapter 72 of human Bill Cipher being 50% the prisoner & 50% the weird guest of the Mystery Shack:

Soos makes a deeply significant moral decision. To redecorate!

If you're seeing this picture, it's because I either didn't have enough time to draw a better one before the queue spat out this chapter, or I decided that nothing else I could draw would be half as funny.

####

Whenever Soos faced something difficult, he talked to Abuelita. And Bill was nothing if not something difficult.

Soos laid out the situation to her in the living room as she watched her telenovelas—she didn't mind the distraction, she far preferred real life drama over anything they put on TV. He told her about the confiscated canes, the daily injuries, the bargaining for food, the threat of forced showers, the bruises and burns and blood Bill said nothing about. He told her about Bill's door trick and how he'd only used it to talk to a teen about life and tuck a kid into bed. Once he'd told Abuelita all his thoughts, she nodded slowly, eyes still fixed to the TV screen; and for the moment, said nothing.

The doctor on TV confirmed the tearful new mother's suspicions that her husband had cheated (DNA tests confirmed the baby was another woman's), and Abuelita muted the show as it went to a commercial break. Soos waited as she collected her thoughts to render her judgment.

"I have been talking to Mr. Cipher for the last month or so. He keeps me company while I cook so I do not poison him again," she said. "I think he is ruthless, manipulative, and self-centered."

Soos winced, but nodded. "That's true."

Abuelita went on, "I like him. He is self-confident. He's blunt in a way you only get when you're old and cynical. I think he is a bad person; but, many bad people are good company."

"That's also true." Soos nodded again thoughtfully. Like whenever a comic book had a young idealistic superhero team up with an old jaded ex-villain who played by his own rules, and they ended up best friends, in spite of their glaring ethical and political differences.

"But, more importantly than whether he is a good person or a bad person," Abuelita said, "he is a person. And if you do not like a person, there are three ways you can deal with him." She counted off on her fingers, "You can kill him; you can avoid him; or you can set your feelings aside, and treat him with decency. Yes, get rid of the people who are bad for you—but no matter how terrible a person is, you must treat him like a person."

Soos's eyes lit up. "Oh, like with grandpa!"

Abuelita nodded slowly. "Yes. Just like grandpa."

"Yeah but—what if treating him decently is, you know... dangerous? Like if he uses any privileges we give him to do bad stuff? The Pines think he will. And I think he might be secretly talking to his cultists or whatever? Who miiight wanna destroy the world? But what if they can't destroy the world actually, and if I tell about the people he's talking to, he gets treated even worse..."

"Without his devil powers, he couldn't destroy a bookclub," Abuelita said. "But, if he is so dangerous, are you going to kill him?"

"No. I actually don't think we can anymore?"

"Are you going to avoid him?"

Soos let out a heavy sigh. "I can't as long as he lives here."

Abuelita shrugged, as if to say there you have it. "You are a good, kind man, mijo. I am sure you will figure out the right thing to do."

####

He took Melody out for lunch. They went through a drive-thru so they could park and talk privately in the truck.

She took a firmer stance on it than Abuelita. "I do not want to be stuck with Bill forever," she said. "I could put up with it this long because I thought the Pines would get rid of him as soon as possible! Now that he's staying here indefinitely...?" She shook her head. "I really don't like it, Soos."

Soos wasn't surprised. "Do... you think they should have 'gotten rid' of him?"

Melody paused, then shook her head again. "This whole thing is such a bizarre situation. Like, I can get why it makes sense to execute the guy that can end the world, but... I just don't think that's a decision two random guys with a big gun should be allowed to make," she said. "Honestly? I think we should call some federal agency and put him in jail somewhere. You know I've been iffy on Ford's 'only we can contain Bill' thing from the start."

"Yeah. I know." Soos agreed with Ford—he was the Bill expert, he would know—but he couldn't say Melody was wrong, either.

"Our wedding's scheduled for the end of summer," Melody said. "And... I'm sorry, Soos, but I just can't live under the same roof as the guy that turned me into a statue. We'll still get married—"

"—Oh, phew, almost had a heart attack there—"

"—pff, sorry. But if Bill's still in the shack after the summer, then... then I'll keep staying with my aunt, or we could move into your old house and just visit the shack for work, or something... but I can't move into the shack permanently until he moves out."

"Okay. I accept that." Even if the rest of them had sorta gotten used to living with Bill, Soos thought not wanting to live with a former torturer/conqueror/dictator was a pretty reasonable boundary. "I dunno what we'll do long-term just yet, but—we'll decide on something before the wedding."

Melody let out a long, nervous sigh. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Thanks, Soos." She reached across the truck's center console.

Soos took her hand. "But, how do you think we should handle Bill until then?"

Melody stared out the window at the gray sky. The rain had dried up before dawn, but the sky was still hazy. "If we keep guarding him ourselves instead of getting law enforcement involved... personally? I wouldn't give him any kind of special treatment at all. He tried to end the world! He stuck the whole town in a throne! He can just keep sleeping on the floor and being miserable, and I'd be fine with it."

Soos winced. "I see."

Melody squeezed his hand. "But—the fact that you're kinder than that is one of the things I love about you. Even when the creep you're being kind to doesn't deserve it." She gave him a resigned smile. "Do whatever you feel is right."

He considered that. Then he nodded. "I will."

####

Bill kept Soos's Abuelita company while she cooked, and gossiped with her in Spanish better than Soos's about people Bill had never even met. Bill liked watching cartoons, sports where people got hurt, and weirdly intellectual movies Soos didn't get, and he heckled historical documentaries and the news. Bill was offended by white rice and had incredibly strong opinions about salsas for a guy who'd only started eating them a month ago. Bill hadn't taken his friendship bracelet off once since Mabel gave it to him. Bill might not have been a human; but he was a person.

It was high time they start treating him like one.

####

Soos came home late in the afternoon with his truck laden down with supplies. Stan's car was gone, and when Soos came in with an armload of wooden boards he didn't see anybody around except Abuelita, napping in the living room, and Dipper, laying on the living room floor watching TV. "Hey dude," Soos whispered. "Where's everybody else?"

Dipper whispered back, "Hey Soos. Stan and Ford are at McGucket's mansion." He didn't look up from the TV. He was watching a rerun of Ghost Harassers on mute. "Mabel's with Bill in the floor room. He's in a bad mood about something so they've been doing karaoke all day."

"Huh." Soos could faintly hear someone playing his electric piano. It sounded like it was on the organ setting. "I didn't know he plays piano."

"He's alright," Dipper said. "His singing's terrible, though."

Soos shuddered. He could imagine.

Well, at least it meant Bill was out of the way. Soos began his first of many trips upstairs.

####

"What's all this racket?" Stan trudged upstairs to inspect Soos's noises—and abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs as he almost ran into a wooden beam. "What the—?"

"Oh, hey Mr. Pines!" Soos hooked his hammer on his tool belt. He'd put up wall framing to section off the corner of the attic floor that included the window seat.

Stan circled around the framing, inspecting it in bafflement. "Soos, what the heck is this?"

"So, remember at the beginning of summer, when I said that me and Melody were thinking about putting in a gaming room-slash-guest room in the attic? And Ford said not to bother until Bill was gone because he wouldn't be here long enough for me to finish? Welp! Sounds like he's gonna be here long enough for me to finish now! So I thought, hey, might as well, right? No reason not to!" He shrugged. "By the way, do you think I should put the door in front of the stairs, or on the long side of the room opposite the window? If it's in front of the stairs, you can just walk right in the room when you come up, and we'd be able to put a big screen on the long wall; but when you're walking out of the room it'd be really easy to forget the stairs are there and fall, and uh, we already have enough of a problem with that—"

Stan finally got his dropped jaw working again. "But this is where the demon sleeps! Where are we supposed to put him now?!"

"Oh, it's fine! Bill can keep sleeping in here. I'll put up a curtain instead of a door for now. This way the room's ready for gaming once Bill's gone." Soos planted his hands on his hips and surveyed his handiwork with pride.

"Are you crazy? You're giving Bill his own room?! No way! He could do anything in private. We can't trust him with that—"

"Listen." Soos gave Stan a serious look. "Mr. Pines, I respect you, and I love you like the dad I never had except technically I do have a dad but he's off being a deadbeat in Florida or something so he doesn't count."

He pointed at the floor. "But this is my house now. My name might not be on the deed, but my butt is in the master bedroom! And nobody under my roof is living like—like—like some kind of starving hobo sleeping on a bench under a newspaper, you know what I'm talking about? The Mystery Shack is a happy place! Where people come to see dreams come true and have their imaginations expanded! And I won't see it turned into some sad one-man prison!"

Stan stared at Soos, speechless.

"So." Soos took a deep breath. "With all due respect—I'm building a gaming room, and it'll have walls, and Bill gets to sleep in it. Because he's a person! And we're gonna treat him like one!"

Stan slowly looked from Soos to the wall framing, to the boxes of supplies he'd bought for the room and pushed against a wall to wait—to the pathetic couch cushion bed still sitting on the floor in front of the window. "All right. That's—that's fine. I'll let Ford know."

Soos's shoulders relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Pines."

Stan clapped a hand on Soos's shoulder; looked for a moment like he wanted to say something; then just shook his head and said instead, "Knock off the hammering before the kids go to bed, all right?"

"No problem! I've gotta set up some furniture and stuff in here anyway." He got back to work as Stan went downstairs.

####

Soos paused his work when he overheard Bill's voice: "Hey Stanford. Figured out the kitchen situation yet?"

Soos had to strain to hear Ford (jeez, Bill was loud) as he said, "We haven't had a chance yet. For now, we can at least leave one of the counter cabinets open."

"Huh." It didn't sound like an impressed huh. "And will this open cabinet have any of the foods you put in the cabinet to hide from me? Or just more of the junk I've already been scavenging."

Ford was silent long enough to provide the answer.

"Right."

"I went by the grocery store," Ford offered. "I got avocados."

"Uh huh."

"And several pepper varieties."

"Ooh." Bill sounded intrigued in spite of himself.

"And protein drinks. They're nutritious, at least," Ford said. "But—I know that's not adequate. Stan and I will have something permanent figured out by the end of the week."

"I guess it's fine as an emergency measure," Bill said, "but you know how the phrase goes! Give a triangle a protein drink, and it'll eat for a day. Teach a triangle to open the fridge, and it'll eat for the rest of its life. If you lift that curse..."

"We'll talk. But don't get your hopes up. Neither of us likes the thought of giving you the power to come in our bedroom and smother us in our sleep the next time we have an argument."

"Fine." Bill's voice had hardened again. "You've got to the end of the week. But don't forget! If I don't like your offer, I don't have to take it! You can't keep me in this rickety barn anymore."

"I haven't forgotten."

The conversation seemed to be over and Soos didn't hear anyone coming up the stairs. He got back to work.

He felt good. He was doing the right thing.

####

When Mabel came up to bed, she stared in confusion at the modified attic floor, squealed in excitement when she realized what she was looking at, surprised Soos with a hug, and gushed about how great it was; and then she let Soos know Dipper and Ford were out tonight investigating weird stuff and went on to bed herself.

The first notification Soos had that Bill had come upstairs was a flat, offended, "What."

"Oh, hey!" Soos ducked out of the opening he'd left for the doorway—which he'd ultimately decided to put straight across from the window, to let a little light back into the attic. (He'd have to add more lighting in the main attic now that the window was blocked off.) Bill was standing at the corner of the new room, surveying the work with an expression of deep suspicion.

Soos said, "I was just getting started on this gaming room Melody and me wanted to put in—it's okay though, you can keep using it, we'll just turn it into a gaming room, uhhh... lllater. Whenever, it's cool!"

Bill turned his suspicious look on Soos; but when Soos gestured for Bill to follow him into the room, he reluctantly followed.

"Yeah, I got up the framing," Soos said, "but I couldn't get to the drywall today, so I just stapled up some tarps to be walls for now. But, look!" He gestured grandly. "I brought up the old orange sofa and chaise thingy that used to be in Abuelita's room! They've been in storage for like a year. I bet we could sit, like, six people on it for game nights. It turns out the sofa's a daybed, so we can use it as an extra guest bed for visitors, we do not have enough beds for visitors in the shack, haha. And, check it—" Soos flipped up the lid on a chest he'd placed in front of the right end of the sofa like a footrest. "I put in one of those top-down chest fridges for gaming snacks! It uh, the top of it swings up, that makes it a lid instead of a door, right? Sooo I guess you can use it too, right? You can just, put whatever you want on the weekly grocery list, and we'll put it in here. Oh, and!" He pointed at the ancient TV console table he'd hauled up from the cellar, "I set up a hot plate here, too! So you can cook stuff in the attic! For—for normal legitimate gaming room purposes."

Bill's gaze followed where Soos pointed, from the ancient orange sofa to the fridge chest to the hot plate. He didn't say anything. His expression was completely unreadable.

Soos swallowed. "Oh, and, by the way, speaking of home improvements, I took out the doorknob on the main bathroom, and put in one of those, like, little slidy dealies like public bathroom stalls? Plus I gave the door those swinging hinges—like the kind on saloon doors in the movies, o-or, say, the door into the gift shop—"

Bill whipped around to face Soos.

Soos jumped. He laughed nervously and tried to remember what point he was making. "S-so, um... there's no latch now, so it doesn't latch, which means there's no way to accidentally get locked in—or out, of the bathroom, and... and I don't actually know how much of that you understood, due to the whole curse thing? Just forget everything I just said, I guess, the important thing is you can use that bathroom without asking someone else now! Cool, right?"

He had to turn away from Bill's intense gaze, pointing back at the gaming room's doorway. "Anyway since the room isn't finished yet and you're probably gonna use it for a while, I hung up a curtain instead of a door. And I added that cool zodiac spell blanket thing Mabel gave me inside the curtain! Since you said you liked it so much when you first got here. And like... having it in our room kinda creeps Melody out, I think it might be giving her nightmares? So I thought you might like it better. Anyway I've still gotta do some other stuff, like add power outlets in here, and air conditioning, and... a-and..." He petered out weakly.

Bill was giving Soos the most venomous look he'd ever seen. 

"Sure. Terrific." Bill crossed his arms, seething. "I've slept on the floor, I can cope with sleeping in the middle of a construction zone too. No big deal! I'll make do."

"Oh," Soos said. "Uh... if it bothers you, I could try to get the walls finished tomorrow? Shack's closed tomorrow too, so, I was already planning to keep—"

Teeth grit, Bill snarled, "Don't put yourself out on my behalf."

Soos froze. "Oookay! Uh... well, I'll be getting ready for bed if you need... yeah, no, you—you probably don't need anything. Bye." He ducked out into the attic, letting out a whoosh of a sigh as soon as the curtain swung shut behind him.

Bill had looked like he was two seconds from ripping out Soos's throat. Why? Had he liked sleeping on the floor? He'd never seemed like he had. Maybe he'd preferred the attic's open flooring? Maybe he hated extremely 70's orange upholstery? Was this a mistake...?

Bill watched through the tarp until Soos was down the stairs. Then he lunged over the sofa, hanging over the back by his waist, to reach the attic window seat. He groped for the corner of the seat cushion where he'd hidden Journal 4.

He sighed in relief when he felt the familiar rectangular block in the cushion. He pulled it free: there was Journal 4, along with his two stubby crayons. As well as two marker pens, black and red, with a sticky note wrapped around them that said, "Thought these might be useful, dude!"

Bill's hands trembled with fury.

####

Soos was brushing his teeth when someone pounded on the bathroom door, making him drop his brush. The door swung open a couple of inches; Soos heard Bill mutter a confused, "What?" before it swung shut again.

Soos opened the door. "Bill? What's..."

Bill's face was completely flushed. It was hauntingly reminiscent of the look he'd had last year right before trying to murder Soos and the kids in Stan's mind. His rage had shot past "apoplectic" and landed on "apocalyptic." Soos understood how Pompeii had felt when the rumbling began. He took a few steps back.

Bill stalked into the bathroom.

He slapped the red pen down on the counter.

And, avoiding eye contact, he muttered, "Fine-tip yellow highlighter would be better. If you've got it."

"Oh," Soos said. "Sure, I... I think I have some skinny highlighters in my office. Just... lemme finish brushing my teeth."

####

Bill leaned in the office doorway, arms crossed tight, waiting. As Soos rummaged through his desk supplies, back to the door, he got the uneasy feeling that maybe Bill had lured him here to stab him in the back or something. He seemed mad enough. And the office was narrow; if Bill came up right behind him, there'd be nowhere for Soos to dodge...

When he found a new highlighter and turned around, Bill was glowering inches behind him.

Soos jumped. "Dude! You freaked me out."

Bill didn't condescend to respond. He just snatched the highlighter out of Soos's hand and stormed from the room. A moment later, Soos could hear him stomping up the stairs (and stumbling on one step. Soos really needed to figure out how to make the stairs more safe). 

For the life of him, Soos didn't know how he'd offended Bill.

####

The contraband supplies Bill had hidden behind a loose board in the wall still appeared to be undisturbed. He could only hope Soos hadn't found them during his snooping. For tonight, he could hide Journal 4 there; tomorrow he'd have to find a new, more secure hiding spot that kept it close enough to where Bill slept.

He turned around the hanging zodiac blanket and curtain so Bill's watchful triangular face was guarding the new attic hallway rather than staring into the room.

He surveyed his atrocious new sofa. If he'd known he would be plagued with this thing in the future, he would have found a way to make Ford get rid of it thirty years ago. Would Ford have thrown it out if his blessed Muse had told him it looked hideous? Maybe, but that would've put a ding in Bill's benevolent image. He could've said the sofa would lead Ford to doom? No, too implausible. Ford had always wanted a nice set of leather furniture; maybe if Bill had claimed the cost of leather furniture was about to skyrocket, and if Ford ever wanted to build his dream sophisticated gentleman's den then he should buy as soon as possible—maybe sell his current sofa to recoup costs and free up space... Yeah, Ford would've eaten that up, he'd have been so grateful Bill was thoughtful enough to care about his silly little life dreams and look out for his financial future. He shoulda done that. Hindsight.

So. What did he have here? A daybed; personal fridge; mini-stove; walls (tarp); two pillows; throw blanket; two markers; a lamp (unplugged); a clock radio (unplugged); a low console table with two shelves, onto which Soos had emptied the contents of Bill's cardboard box of clothes; and an implicit promise to keep a pile of secrets.

How humiliating.

He considered sleeping on the bare floor in protest; but, his back still hurt. Once again, subject to the tyranny of an organic body. He sighed, pulled his bedsheet from the console table, and curled up on the sofa.

The moment he lay down, a scent soaked into the seat cushion made his heart leap into his throat. He was sure he could smell home. Familiar and comforting and right—and for a moment the evidence of his other six senses didn't matter: he had his power back, he was in his kingdom, and all was right with the world. It took a moment to figure out what about the scent had so strongly disoriented him: he was smelling the atmosphere of the Nightmare Realm.

And then took another moment to work out that it wasn't really the Nightmare Realm, but a very similar scent—sulfurous, organic, burning. Burnt hair.

The cushion still smelled like Ford.

Bill groaned in frustration, rolled off the sofa, and flopped to the floor.

After permitting himself a moment of rage at the injustices of the multiverse, Bill crawled up onto the chaise lounge on the left end of the sofa, avoiding the part of the sofa where Ford used to sleep.

The chaise was smaller than his floor cushion bed used to be; but he'd make do.

####

(I know we're all busy going insane over the website but i'd love a comment when y'all read this chapter lol)

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.

Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.

I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated

@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)

ahah yeah I was!!

@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3

Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?

No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs

@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡

AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙

oH CHAOTIC INDEED

Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about

wait is that a random number or???

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.

mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes

Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.

AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)

mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?

I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)

not unless he is forced to

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime

AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!

@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.

ooooohhh that's a cool idea!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere

I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?

hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.

Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎

Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)

Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!

GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP

@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME

It wont be a one time!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks

For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.

Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.

Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.

TRUE LMAO

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard

HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.

[gyllenhaalstories]

FOOL — RUSTY SABICH 🍷

summary: rusty has a very normal and appropriate reaction to your selfie.

warnings: food & alcohol, reader is drunk, cheating, fade to black/brief smut (masturbation). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2100

gif credit: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/saradika-graphics

notes: (not so) quick little quickie that was inspired by @sizzlingcloudmentality's comment on this post. this is a continuation of FETISH, i suggest reading it first to understand the dynamic of this fic. i really wanted to write 15 fics this year, so you guys can have whatever this is happy new year <3 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

Rusty ate out at the bar, that night. He was not in any state to go home.

He made up some excuse about needing documents from the office to finalize a case. Half a truth, he had work that needed to be done. Half a lie, he needed to get things off his mind.

The holiday schedule kept Rusty booked and busy. One second he drove the kids to visit relatives, on the next he was cooking up a storm in the kitchen and, in between all of that, Barbara reminded him of the countless things he pushed off his to-do list during the whole year. He needed to change a light bulb or two, he needed to move a piece of furniture, he needed to fix the chain of his son's bike before springtime. There was also a long list of conversation topics Barbara pressed him to address without walking out of the bathroom and shutting her out.

It felt as though he laid to bed with more worries now than during the rest of the year. Rusty was desperate for a break. So, he went to the bar.

He ordered a drink and some food that he barely touched. He preferred to toy with his glass and to watch the ice cubes follow the ripples of the amber liquid.

The phone vibrated in a frenzy, he received a series of messages.

The messages came from you. You were texting him.

Since you had started working at a different firm, all thanks to Raymond Horgan's impressive network of connections, you kept in touch with your former colleague. Upon your departure, Rusty had insisted time and time again that you could reach out to him whenever you needed help. You exchanged emails every now and then in the search of advice about your job. You shared text messages about the length of the queue at the coffee shop Rusty and you frequented. Friendly, helpful, appropriate.

Rusty was proud of himself. He thought about you a lot less, since you quit to work somewhere else. The quick and easy interactions with you kept him going, they fed him enough crumbs to avoid going hungry for more. He managed his impatience fairly well while waiting for the next time you would reach out. You did not have the habit of making him wait too long. That was before the holiday break, anyway. He understood you were busy on most days, on most nights too.

It was a different kind of busy, that night. You attended a work party with your colleagues. The second to last day of the year turned out to be the only moment everyone had available in their schedules. So, you found yourself at a bar you never frequented, with people you did not hang out much outside of work.

Rusty unlocked his phone and checked the first photo you sent him: an array of fancy liquors and spirits. He recognized a brand or two.

"Can you believe Raymond sent all that? It came in a giant box. I'm sure that all these bottles are worth more than a month of salary." You sent the explanation after the pictures.

No wonder why Rusty recognized the labels, it made sense now. He quickly replied that good old Raymond definitely felt generous when he ordered the assortment to, once again, thank your superiors for hiring you.

A few minutes later, he received another message. You told him you tried one of the bourbons, it did not taste worth the elegant gold foil of the label. After that, you sent a photo of the glass of wine you held up along with a handful of your colleagues who did the same. You commented that only the people from your work occupied the bar, that a couple walked in and left when they realized that a party was happening.

Rusty did not know why you felt compelled to share all of the little details of your evening. You granted him with a chance to witness a side of you he had never seen. He would be a fool to tell you to stop.

You were too tipsy to think of your behaviour as annoying. You enjoyed having an excuse to be on your phone for a little while and listen to the office gossip rather than participate in it. You learned a whole lot about the guy a worked in HR, not that you would remember much about this story tomorrow morning.

You stayed silent for a moment, twelve minutes to be exact. Not that Rusty was counting... He was. He had typed several messages that he erased before sending. He had a tendency to be insisting, he wanted to avoid scaring you off. He did not want this moment to end.

You took a few more photos: of the menu and the funky cocktail names, of the tacky paper umbrella that hung off your friend's drink, of the neon blue liquid you received after you ordered something else. You had accidentally flipped the camera and, low and behold, you liked the lighting. You suggested to take photos of the people around you. Everyone squeezed close and showed you funny faces and pretty grins. Then, you took a selfie. You dragged your fingertip on the screen, attempting to send the photograph of the blue cocktail you had been sipping.

Rusty's entire body buzzed when he felt his phone vibrate again. Finally, you replied. He opened the picture you sent him. Your eyes sparkled, your smile beamed. Maybe it was the brightness of his phone that adjusted itself, or it was your beauty that shined through. He could not tell, he wanted to believe it was the latter.

You realized, too late, that you had sent the wrong picture. You tried to justify yourself, but instead you watched the text bubbles dance.

Rusty felt his cock twitch at the sight of your face. He shifted on the bar stool to spread his legs a bit more. He looked at the photo again, with a sigh and furrowed brows. It seemed as though the vein on his temple pulsated. His restraint melted away like the ice cubes in his glass. "You're amazing."

You read the message. Confusion painted the features of your face. You did not dislike the unexpected compliment, but it remained exactly that: unexpected. Perhaps he had too much to drink too, just like you. You did not ponder any longer about it.

"You look like you're having fun." Rusty sent another message after you left him on read.

You responded that you had a good time so far. "Are you having fun too?"

It was Rusty's turn to leave you without an answer. He chugged the last sip from his glass, then he paid for the steak and roasted vegetables that he picked at all evening long. He gave the bartender no time for Happy New Year wishes, Rusty jumped off the stool and grabbed his coat.

You had put your phone back in your purse, thinking it was the end of your conversation with Rusty.

Little did you know he basically ran to his car, unbothered by the cold and humid air of the night. He slammed the door shut, adjusting the car seat to give himself more space. Rusty pulled out his phone that he held in one hand, while the other expertly unbuckled his belt. The noise of the zipper going down blended with the swoop of the notification from his next message. "I'm having fun too." He opened your selfie, groaning with relief when he palmed at his bulge. It gave him a sense of déjà vu, to touch himself because of you. Except that, this time, he would not only think of you — he would admire the beautiful features of your face that had showed up one too many times in his fantasies.

*~*~*

Rusty got startled with the loud sound of his phone ringing. He furrowed his brows when he read the name of the caller, instinctively answering and putting his phone on speaker. He noticed something on the screen. "Fuck." He cursed at himself.

"Well, hello to you too." You answered before he could say anything else, grimacing at his attitude. You did not understand why he threw such bitterness at you, Rusty had been nothing but pleasant all evening. You squeezed your phone between your cheek and your shoulder while you tried to fix your scarf and jacket. "Am I calling at a bad time?"

Rusty's heart started to race. "No, no, you're good." He answered, his voice sounded strained for a moment when he reached for the glove compartment and pulled out the package of cleaning wipes. "It's all good."

You shrugged. You did not care much anyway. "Do you remember when you said you could help me with whatever I need?"

Rusty's ears perked up at the way you slurred your words, clearly you had more to drink than just the one glass of wine you showed in your photo. "Uh huh." He cleared his throat, pulling out a wipe. He started vigorously cleaning the steering wheel.

"Sooooo..." You dragged out the word, taking a look around. The street felt eerie and empty, it was so unusual for the city. "Wanna give me a ride?"

The bluntness of your question took him by surprise. He folded the wipe neatly, then he used it to scrub the screen of his phone. The frenetic motions managed to switch the screen to what it previously displayed. Now, Rusty stared at the zoomed-in selfie you sent earlier. Drops of his cum covered your cheeks and your chin. You looked so perfect like that...

You filled the silence with unnecessary explanations. "You're cheaper than a taxi and you're much better company than Uber drivers." You hoped the flattery would work.

And it did, you stroked his ego just the way he liked it. He let out a shaky breath, soaking in what you said. You really did like him.

"I'm not bothering you, right?" You asked. Both Rusty and you were unsure if you played it coy intentionally or not. "I assumed you had time to spare tonight to hold on to your promise since, well, you know..." Surely, if he had been at home with his wife and kids he would not have texted you back so quickly every time.

Rusty wanted to blame your bold assumption on the alcohol, but he had a shadow of doubt that there was more to it. You guessed correctly, even worse, you did not seem to mind it too much. Perhaps the blame rested, again, on the intoxication. Still, something stirred inside of him. Desire renewed easily at the sound of your voice, at the implication that you needed him — that you chose him.

Your words hung in the air, the silence spoke for itself. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you began to feel cold. Your movements did not distract you from the noise you heard on the line. Rusty received a notification.

He pushed the notification away when he saw that the message came from his wife. "You're not bothering me at all, I'll pick you up. It's no problem." He blabbered. He pulled his shirt out of the pants, hoping to cover most of the reaction you gave him just by talking. Just by being so sweet to him. Just by showing him that he's on your mind too, albeit in different ways. "Where are you?"

You gave him the address while failing to hide the smile in your voice. Rusty commented that he was just a few blocks away, he would be there in five or ten minutes. "Great! That gives me plenty of time to order one more drink." You giggled, making your way back to the bar. You remembered that most of your friends and colleagues had already left, but that did not stop you from getting your favourite cocktail.

He reminded you to be careful, you blissfully ignored him so you could recite your order to the bartender.

"Oh, Rusty?" You realized you had not hung up the call yet. The music resonated loudly, but he could still hear your voice, as sweet as ever. "Thank you. I knew I wasn't a fool for believing that you would hold up to your offer." A little bit more ego stroking never hurt anybody.

And just like that, he made a sharp turn and sped up as the light turned red before his eyes. Rusty was off to the races.

[inexplicifics]

Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

[jiraiconfessions]

you know, i really do hate everyone in this community, and i really mean that. you can sit there and try to act as unstable as you want but in reality most people here are surrounded by loving families and this is just the modern version of the 2015 edgelord emo phase. none of you do fucking anything jirai-like except sit there bitching about shit you could easily fucking fix if you put any effort into doing so.

"i cant make friends" "im so suicidal" "i just wanna cut" i dont fucking care. can you talk about literally anything else? yeah its an unstable subculture thats very true but are you like actually aware that the reason you arent making any jirai friends is because nobody wants to be around people threatening to cut 24/7? its the same in japan, i feel like some of you have this weird notion that jp jirai are all friends with each other and dancing around in lovely circles while being drunk on the streets but in actuality its just like literally any other friend groups where people fight and cry and then never see each other again. except when you fight with a friend in one of those groups theres a chance theyll fucking overdose and die in the streets without ever having a chance to fix it

youre all so fucking weird. all of you, none of you are free from this except for maybe like 2 people in the community. "i want to join the toyoko kids" "i wish there was an american version of the toyoko kids" then go outside and fucking talk to the homeless people around you, they'll hook you up with drugs and alcohol so you can run around the street like a real toyoko kid. oh, wait, but none of you will because the fact of the matter is you dont actually care about the lifestyle itself you just want to be around cute asian girls— you know its fucking true, reposting random photos of random jp jirai from twt with some shitty caption above it, acting like you fucking care. one of the biggest girls who gets posted in those memes is currently going through domestic violence and is posting about it on her twitter, and for a community that "cares" about each other ive seen literally nobody giving her any support or anything. just more shitty reposts of her photos going like "omgggg this is so me >.<" like id fucking hope it isnt you.

by the way none of you freaks wanting to be a toyoko kid could survive it. you scream and cry when theres a pedophile in your dms but if you were a toyoko kid those same people would be dictating how much money you get to spend that month. "ewww there's a pedophile in my dms" omgggg no way?? in the community commonly associated with child prostitutes theres a pedophile trying to talk to you?? who couldve seen that coming

none of you have the right to sit on a high throne and call yourself "real jirais" when the only lifestyle you fuckers engage in is being minorly mentally ill. none of you get to sit there and call people elitists when you actively look down on sex workers and people who can afford higher brands. btw if youd have done literally any research youd know that the style is indeed called "jirai kei" in japan, and not dark girly, but that point has been hammered to death on this blog so whatever.

anyway to the non fetishisers in the community i love u

TL;DR A vast majority of this community consists of people who do not understand the struggles of Japanese landmines. It gets to a point where the complaining can be insufferable, and often misses the mark entirely. There's a huge fetishism issue, and a lot of landmines on here just want to be around Asian girls. Also, it's not called "dark girly," it's called jirai kei.

(Hopefully that covers it effectively.)

Normally I'd just flat out queue things, but I'm going to post this one immediately. Anon, I don't know who the user you're talking about going through DV is, since I'm not active in those spaces, but If you're able to please do send another ask sharing her username. I would like to post anything I can to help her.

Also, I personally would like to thank you for pointing out how people look down on sex workers. I don't usually insert my own opinion but as a former sex worker myself I often feel left behind in this community. Thank you.

[maplebellsmods]

More Kisses Mod #3 + Bonus Sad Hug

More Kisses Pack 3 is finally ready! This new pack adds 2 new kissing animations. This time I've also included a sad hug animation. This is not romantic and can be used by any sim. This set of animations was also made in collaboration with Utoypa CC who worked on the animations. They make a lot of fun different animations. Check out their work because it is truly incredible! 

Searing Kiss

👇

Frenzied Kiss

👇

If you are familiar with More Kisses then you know that there are moodlets that happen after the kiss, I have now added a bunch of new moodlets over 30 and there can also be negative moodlets. I have also fixed the problem where every time after a kiss sims would get the first kiss moodlet. 

Finally, the soothing snuggle interaction has been something I have wanted in the game for so long. This interaction will be available to a sim who is close to another sim with, at least an 80+ friendship score and if the targetsim is sad. 

The sim will comfort the other sim by hugging them. Let me know what you guys think about having interaction for different situations. 

Soothing Snuggle

👇

Possible outcomes after the interaction

Known Bugs

The only thing I have noticed so far is if you want to run this animation, try to run it alone without anything else in the queue, that is how it will work best.

I would appreciate reports on any bugs that may arise.

Credits

Thank you to the pancake1 for their s4animtools this was so life-changing when it came to making animations available in-game!

Big thanks to Utoypa CC who always makes the best animations!

Requirements?

You need:

XML Injector

The Mood Pack (If your UI disappears or there are UI issues after you play an animation with a mod it is because the mood pack isn't properly installed or installed at all. Please make sure you make note of this.)

More Kisses Mod #1 (Not necessary if you download the All-In-One version)

BG Compatible

Future Plans and Updates

More interactions. Once I create more animations I will make the selectable interactions option. 

How to install the mod?

Choose the All-in-One Download or download More Kisses #1 Mod for this pack to work. Be sure to also redownload #2 if you want it in your game. I have updated More Kisses #1 and #2 for the latest patch so redownload it, to get the latest version.

Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Mods <--- Place the package file here.

If your UI disappears or there are UI issues after you play an animation with a mod it is because the mood pack isn't properly installed or installed at all. Please make sure you make note of this.

Public April 7th

Download: Here

[soulmatesinc-if]

i honestly have no idea what made me think of this concept (maybe it was the office. not sure) and i hope you don't mind reading almost 900 words of pure brainrot, but i wrote a thing to get myself in the holiday spirit and what better than to project my favorite pastime of eating every dessert i come across onto my husband favorite french ginger (no matter how ooc it might be). i apologize in advance to the people who may scroll past this, if there is a 'read more' option on asks, i did not see it 🙏🏽

The week before a holiday just means another holiday party at Soulmates Inc.

Sydni, surprisingly, doesn't mind the parties. She's not the most lively person in the world and she honestly doesn't talk to many people at her job besides Wyatt and Rachel, but the atmosphere is nice nonetheless.

The place was alive with chatter, laughter, and the faint strains of a Christmas playlist coming from a speaker somewhere (all the songs are very modern iterations of the usual classics, much to her very mild dismay). Some people chose to mingle near the buffet table, while a few other clusters nursed drinks and made small talk near the tackily decorated tree. The groups aren't too far off from what happens every other work day, with that select few crowding the water cooler or the printer for just a little too long, but now there's little tree and snowflake banners on the walls.

Sydni stood slightly apart from the commotion, holding a plate filled with neatly arranged brownie squares. She helped herself to one or two earlier in the party, but once she noticed that she was really the only person eating them, she asked the person who brought them if she could just take them all. She was only half-joking when she asked, but was definitely surprised when they actually said she could. Her stance against the wall was relaxed, her eyes scanning the room with quiet detachment as she absently bit into one of the squares.

She almost immediately took another bite once she heard footsteps, giving herself an excuse to not really talk to anyone, but decided against it once she saw it was just Wyatt.

He stops next to her, opting to lean against the wall for support.

“Whoever's putting these songs in the queue needs to be fired,” he says in lieu of a greeting, immediately fixing his sunglasses to rest atop his head.

She hums in agreement and Wyatt flashes her a smile. Then, just noticing the plate in her hands, his face brightens and an 'oooh' sound comes from his mouth before his hand lifts towards it.

Sydni pulls the plate out of his reach, earning her a confused look from him. She doesn't miss a beat. “I'm not sharing.”

“What?!” Wyatt's look of confusion immediately shifts to shock as he pushes himself off the wall and his hand flies to his chest.

“Did you seriously think that nobody saw you by the dessert table the past fifteen times you were there?”

She knows that he knows what she's referring to. In the hour or two that this event has been going on, Sydni has watched him leave the dessert table with something at least once every 5 minutes. He's lucky that everyone else has been too busy eating the actual food and socializing to notice, and he's even luckier that Sydni didn't care enough to call him out earlier. She saved her brownies and that's enough for her. But now he wants those, too, so she has to say something.

An instinctive noise of protest comes from him before he snaps his mouth shut. Wyatt's face twists into a picture of mock indignation, though the faint color creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Sydni—”

“Andrew,” she cut him off sharply, but there was no real venom in her voice. “I looked back at the table every few minutes and without fail, a new portion was gone every time. I actually like these.”

He heaves a heavy, almost pleading sigh before clasping his hands together. She always forgets how drainingly dramatic he can be.

“Sydni.” Oh no. "My friend. My confidant. The only person on my Beets & Dungeons friends list—"

“Christ.”

“—I am deeply, terribly sorry for being so selfish. I was swept away by the holiday spirit, you see, but I'm sure you don't want to hear my oh-so pitiful excuses.”

Sydni stared at him, her expression unchanging. She let the silence stretch between them for just long enough to make Wyatt shift on his feet a little bit.

...It shouldn't work. It really shouldn't work.

...

What was that about being swept away by the holiday spirit?

“...Three,” she said finally, her voice clipped as she slowly offers up the plate.

He perks up immediately. “Five.”

“Three.” He can't be serious.

“Four.”

“One.”

Wyatt's shoulders slump slightly in defeat as she plucks a single brownie from the plate. “...Okay.”

As he bit into it, his expression shifted from mock dejection to genuine delight. He gives her a playful 'can you believe this?' look before shaking his head with his brows furrowed.

Sydni glanced at him sideways, shaking her head but saying nothing. A faint smirk tugged at her lips, though she quickly smothered it.

He catches the flicker of amusement and grins again, still triumphant despite his loss of two extra possible brownie squares. “You’re too good to me. Cheers.”

Sydni scoffs before deciding to indulge him, picking up the square she bit into earlier to lightly press against Wyatt's before they both take another bite into their respective pieces.

He makes another delighted sound before they slip into a comfortable silence, opting to just watch their co-workers mingle around them.

The silence seems to get Wyatt thinking, though. He turns to her with an almost scarily genuine look. "This playlist is the worst thing I've ever heard in my life."

“I'm telling Eugene to change it.”

“Thank you, fuck.”

Oh

[wouldlesbianismsaveher]

Greetings, fellow women lovers!

Currently on hiatus, will post all submitted characters upon return.

Do you ever look at a woman in a relationship with a man and think "damn. that guy treats her awfully. she would have been much better off if she dated me another woman instead."?

I do. Often in fact. Here, we ask the eternal question: would lesbianism save her?

Submit your blorbos here, and have the internet judge their fate!

Plus, have a look at the spreadsheet to see who's already been submitted!

Rules:

One character per submission

if you include spoilers in your propaganda, please say so so i can mark it accordingly

No real people

No harry potter characters

Justification/propaganda is not necessary, but it is preferred

Be civil! any bigotry or harassment will result in a block

Queue is currently set at 1 post a day. Characters will be posted in order of submission.

FAQ under the cut!

Can we submit characters that are canonically bisexual?

Please don’t! Read this post for more information :D

What if the character is from a non-visual media? (a book, podcast, etc)

Don’t worry about it! Just mention that there aren’t any pictures of them, and I’ll find a book/podcast cover to use as the image. If you have a preference on which I use, just link it like you would a character photo.

can we submit fanart for the character photo?

You can use fanart, however you have to have permission from the artist. If any artists find their art on this blog when it shouldn't be, let me know and I will remove it immediately.

How long does it take for characters to be posted?

The queue currently has about two weeks’ worth of characters. Generally, expect about 1-3 weeks between submission and posting. If you want to be notified when it goes live, add your username into the form and I’ll tag you!

How can I contact you if I have any questions about/ suggestions for the blog?

My asks are open! I don’t bite, I promise, and I’m more than willing to change things up if needed :D

What if the character is from multiple medias?

List the one you want in the post title OR the overall name of the media in the “source media” section, and then list anything that you also want tagged in the “additional information" section. For example, if you wanted to submit Superhero Lady, you might put “Marvel Cinematic Universe” in the source media and then “Superhero Lady Is Cool, The Movie", "Superhero Lady Returns", "Superhero Lady: Avengers” in the additional information section. Please be clear with where the character is from, as I don’t know 90% of these characters.

What else is the “additional information” section for?

Anything you want to let me know, really. If your propaganda contains spoilers, then you can say so here. Tags you want added or other names for the source media can also be added, as stated above. Additionally, by default I refer to all characters as “she”, so if you want me to use another pronoun, you can let me know here.

What do you count as spoilers?

Any information about the plot of a media that has been out for a month or less at the time of submission, and any major plot information/ plot twists/ reveals that may significantly impact somebodies experience of any media, regardless of the release date of the media. This does not apply if you are submitting characters from classical literature.

Brought to you by Mod M (they/she). If I ever do something stupid and/ or incompetent, let me know so I can fix it. My only qualification for running this blog is that I'm currently winning lesbianism.

Inspired by blogs such as:

@couldtransitionhavesavedthem @couldaromanticismsavethem @couldpolyamorysavethem @couldtransitionsaveher @couldfatnesshavesavedthem @is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent @aretheyqueer

[hannahssimblr]

I wander through the food stalls in the late afternoon once I’ve inevitably lost the others, and join a long queue for food. Chips. This seems to be ninety percent of my diet these days. Chips and the kinds of sweets from the corner shop that burn the coating off my tongue. I pay for them and some sad, limp looking hotdog and wolf them down before hopping into the queue for the bar. I get three beers, all with the lids confiscated. Necking them all is the only way to avoid the inconvenience of carrying them upright for several hours, and while I do it, I wander through the festival in a relatively aimless search of a familiar face. 

The festival is in a field, or several, somewhere. I really have no sense of where I am according to a map. By the edge of the campsite, a path meanders into a small wood decorated with ribbons and hanging lamps in the foliage overhead. Acoustic melodies drift down the winding path as I pass couples in hammocks and groups of friends seated in the shade among the wildflowers. 

There is a smaller stage here, wooden, with a tarp hung overhead, housing musicians who play a lazy tune to a crowd on the picnic blankets and cushions scattered across the grass. A group of people in weird clothing dance in a circle, doing the type of moves people only seem to do when they’re familiar with the bong. Swaying, arms loose and hair, (because they all have long hair,) swishing across their backs. I seat myself on the grass in the dappled shade of an oak tree to finish my last beer, watching them as I let the alcohol slowly take over my body with that familiar, hazy weight. 

Eventually, one dancer sees me. Our eyes meet across the clearing and I feel embarrassed for looking at all. She smiles this slow, tranquil smile and begins a slow dance in my direction. 

“Fuck sake.” I think. “Why was I looking? Now I’m going to have to speak to this weird hippie-”

“Are you joining us, or are you just having a look?” She has a country accent I don’t recognise, but since I’m ignorant of all that exists outside of Dublin city, this much is not surprising. 

“I’m just, uh, I’m just looking, I suppose.”

“You seem a wee bit glum.”

“Right well, I’m fine, so.”

“I assumed you were looking over at us because you felt like a dance, but were feeling shy.”

I hack out a laugh. “What? No. No, I don’t dance like that.”

“‘Like that’? Like what?”

I peer over to the others behind her, one of which appears to believe he’s floating through time and space. “I’m not even nearly stoned enough, to be honest.”

“Ah, well, easy fix there. You could be stoned.” She sticks her hand into the pocket of her big patchwork skirt and offers me a rolled joint, but I shake my head and push it away. “Look, thanks, but I don’t smoke.”

“Do you do anything else?” she rummages through another pocket. 

“Not right now.”

“What’s wrong with now?”

“It’s about four in the afternoon.”

“It’s a festival. We don’t currently exist under the constraints of society. You don’t have to wait until it’s dark to do pills here, or whatever it is you think. You can be a free man, anybody you want to be.”

I shake my head. “You’d only be wasting them on a stranger. Don’t.”

She plonks next to me in the grass. The smell from her clothes is like the health food shop in town, where Jen buys those enormous bags of sesame sticks to munch with deliberate obnoxiousness in the middle of religion class.

She says, “You seem forlorn. I have this sense that you ought to be happier.”

I regard her for a moment, her red curls wild, the sun catching a halo of frizz around a circular face. “Look, if you’re coming over here for some other reason, like, you know… if this is about you wanting to-”

“I don’t fancy you, or anything like that.” She says, then, after I pause, she adds, “sorry to shock you, but I’m not interested.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you offended?”

I hesitate. “No.” 

“You’re hardly making an assumption because I’m a girl doing something nice for you, are you? This doesn’t mean I want something more from you. You get that, right?”

I shrug. 

“Because that’s what boys do. They’re only nice to girls they think are hot.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She sighs, a great, long sigh of something like satisfaction with herself for having figured me out. “See, you would have been quite mean to me in school, wouldn’t you?”

I survey her for a few moments, then decide on cautious honesty. “Probably.”

“I’m healing at the moment. I’m seeking empathy for the kinds of people who I feel resentment towards. I thought I’d come over and offer you, and by extension every sporty, slightly ignorant boy from my secondary school…” She pulls a small baggie out of that skirt pocket and her face lights up with surprised delight, “ketamine! See it as a peace offering.” 

I ignore it until she puts it away. 

“You actually remind me of my friend.” I tell her.

“Interesting.” 

“She’s got the same hair, whenever she doesn’t straighten it, and stuff, it’s kind of curly like yours.”

“Ah, and is she also a massive babe?”

I pause.

“God. I was joking. You can say that she’s pretty without slipping up and complimenting me, too. Don’t worry, I won't get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, Alison’s pretty. She doesn’t really, um, wear the clothes you wear, or anything, there’s just something about your hair, I suppose, and parts of your face that remind me of her.”

“Is Alison here today?”

“No, she’s in Dublin. I… yeah.”

The girl grins and bites her lip impishly. “So this friend, is she just a friend, or do you love her or something?”

I’m rendered momentarily speechless by the strangeness of this conversation. Who is this person, this Alison imposter? I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t like that with us. She’s a friend.”

“But you want more.” She prompts, and I furrow my brow. “You’re fairly nosy. Did you know that?”

“You’ve just started telling me this. I’m only listening to you.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know, anyway, maybe I wanted more at a certain time, but I’m just kind of like that with a lot of girls, like, I just get, like, feelings about them. It���s the main thing that’s wrong with me at the moment.”

“Explain that to me some more. Do they not feel it back, or?”

“Well, that’s not the issue, usually.”

“Ah,” she says, “You’ve got other, deep dark, brooding things going on, then.”

I lay my empty beer bottle on the grass. It tips over and rolls down the little incline where we sit, out of reach. I leave it there. “I suppose.”

Someone in the band has whipped out a sitar, sending psychedelic sounds over the crowd, and I sort of feel like my body is ascending to another realm, transported right back to that time Jen and I did mushrooms in a carpark and all the vehicles started looking like big weird bugs. It's dreamlike, transcendent, like I’m not real, and nothing I say holds any weight. I’m just a soul in the woods with a ginger girl in fairy clothes offering me bags of pills. 

“So, are you sad about Alison?” She says. 

“That’s part of it.”

“And the other parts, are they related to women, too?”

“Everything’s related to women a bit, isn’t it?”

“I’m very curious about what’s wrong with you.”

I let out a short, self-conscious laugh and pluck a blade of grass from the ground. 

“You don’t have to tell me. I just wonder what has you sad and alone in absolutely glorious weather, on the first day of a festival.”

“That’s why you came over, is it?”

“Yeah, in part. I’m saving you the same way I’d save a baby bird chucked out of its nest.”

“You look like you’d do that,” I say derisively, “and you'd disrupt the entire hangout so you could call the SPCA.”

She doesn’t flinch. “Yeah, ‘cause I would.”

“Okay, well, you could be working on me for a while. I think there’s everything wrong with me currently, so.”

“Well, I’m high as fuck, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Right.” I concentrate intently on the grass in my hand, folding it, knotting it, then breaking it apart, centimetre by centimetre. The girl, Not Alison. Weed Alison, sits there patiently as I repeat this process, plucking grass, fiddling with it, breaking it, flicking the bits away.

There’s a chance, I realise, I am becoming a weird man. A man who does things like this, who sits with a person he has never met before, and begins telling her private things about himself. Next thing I know, I’ll be fifty-eight years old and doing this to college girls on the bus as they try their best to ignore me and look out the window as I miss their every signal. The outlook isn't great.

This girl is asking questions because she is overly interested in other people’s lives and sees me as something amusing to be played with. Intellectually, I know this, yet there is a part of me that believes she has genuine concern for me and my wellbeing, like I really am some rejected baby bird. I experience a wave of momentary anger at her for confusing me until it becomes suddenly clear that I am angry at myself for the things that I feel. 

Still, the truth, having been given permission to emerge, rises in my stomach like bile.

I’m horrified to feel emotion swelling behind my face, and wait a long time to speak, in case my voice cracks and humiliates me. “I think I’m in love with someone.” 

“Oh, right,” she says, like this piece of information is not as astounding as I assumed it would be. “Someone other than your Alison friend.”

“Yeah, someone else.”

“Another she? Or a he, this time?”

I huff out a laugh. “A she.”

“Have you mentioned it to her?”

“God, no.”

“Do you plan to?”

“It’s pretty obvious to me that she’s better off not knowing.”

Her face lights up. “Ah, because she’s together with somebody else. Your friend, right? Your best friend.”

“Why are you making this into a soap opera? She’s not with anyone else... I don't think. It’s just, logistically. It’s not right.”

“So you’re kind of… not following your heart.”

“Fucked if I know what I’m doing, to be honest.” 

“Well,” she says, leaning thoughtfully onto her elbows, “What would happen if you told her about what you’re feeling?”

I glare at her in outrage.

She blinks. “Well, don’t you think she might like to know?”

“No, it’d be the worst thing possible. I’ll ruin her.”

“Maybe it’d be worse if you didn’t tell her.”

I have to stare at her for several seconds while I formulate a response. “It’s best for us both that I say nothing.”

“You have to tell her. What if she feels the same? What if she’s just waiting for you to say something? What if you’re both afraid for the same reason? What if you miss your chance and never get another?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Have you ever kissed her?”

“No.”

She gasps, eyes dancing. “You must. What if it’s fab?”

“That’d be worse than not doing it at all.”

She cocks her head, “I don’t understand you. What about this love you supposedly feel?”

“It’s just a summer thing. I’ll get over it.” 

A sigh. “Okay”

“I always do.”

“Until you don’t.”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you do until you don’t. I thought that too, once, and then-”

“Eimear!” One of the dancing hippies calls out to her as the melody changes again, to something lively and upbeat. “Are you bringing your little chavvy friend to dance or not?”

She looks at me, and I shake my head firmly. 

“No,” she calls back, “He's decided against it.”

The group boos me heartily as she climbs to her feet, making such a scene with their disapproval that others turn to have a look, and to smile at me in that sympathetic way that you do to a child that is failing to fit in with his peers. I am a spectacle in football shorts among the harem-pantsed congregation. 

“Let yourself experience love.” Eimear says in parting, as serenely, she drifts towards her friends, twirling in a meadow of dog daisies. 

“Right, yeah.” I say, and get up to wander back the way I came, wobbly on my feet as the full force of the beers I necked in one go hits me all at once. And as I leave the strange, hazy dreamland behind and reenter the grungy reality of the main arena, I reach into my pocket and discover something that wasn’t there before. 

It’s a baggie with three pink, pressed ketamine pills. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 26 of 30

1860 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

Other than a few more patches of turbulence, and some very distracting heavy petting, you make it through your first flight relatively unscathed. Being in first class allows you to disembark quickly and make it through immigration before the majority even have a chance to join the queue. At baggage Yoongi and Hobi grab a cart and usher the rest of you out of the door. Namjoon looks uncomfortable at the thought of not helping with the bags but Jungkook clinging to his arm doesn't really allow him to be of much use anyway.

A private transfer is waiting for you all outside and you pile into the very back with Namjoon and Jungkook. Jungkook's leg bounces with anticipation, you can't help reaching out to hold him still. He looks up at you sheepishly, smiling shyly. Now it's finally down to just the pack he is starting to calm down, it seems mostly just his excitement for the vacation is left. 

Namjoon on the other hand seems to be becoming more and more anxious the longer the trip goes on, a problem you don't think is going to resolve itself anytime soon. 

Everyone else seems to be more than ready to get to the beach. Jimin and Taehyung are talking excitedly over Jin about what they want to do when they get to the villa. The doctor looks between the two of them with mild fascination on his face, like he is conducting research more than actively taking part in a conversation. And you can hear Yoongi's laughter before you see him and Hobi come around the corner.

It looks like Hoseok had offered to push the cart by himself, only for the cart to be a little wonky. It turns and runs away from him frequently, leaving Hobi to look more than a little panicked each time. Yoongi just giggles and lets it happen, making you think that perhaps he had offered more assistance before.

Eventually, he does manage to straighten the course long enough to get the cart close to the van, giving up about 10 feet out. Namjoon clambers out of the back and rushes over to help with the luggage. No one misses the glare he gives Yoongi.

"Oh loosen up Joonie." The Jackal sighs, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Namjoon on his cheek.

The bear just grumbles under his breath and continues to haul bags from the cart and into the trunk. It's a tight fit but he manages to squish them all in through spite alone. Yoongi slides into the driver's seat, Namjoon taking the passenger side, leaving Hobi to squish into the back with you and Kookie. 

Jungkook slides a little closer to you to allow more room for the human and leans his head on your shoulder.

"You smell different." He comments, burying his nose into your neck.

"Probably just the aeroplane air." You shrug not really thinking about it.

But Jungkook persists, his nose pressing deeper into your skin. He sniffs along your jaw, down your neck, all the way to your collarbones. That's where he lingers the longest. His tongue flicks out as he reaches your cleavage and you push him away giggling, your cheeks all of a sudden rather warm. 

"It's Jin." He states, eyes fixed on yours.

"What's me?" The doctor says testing in his chair.

"The thing that smells different... Y/N reeks of Jin."

"Well, they did just sit next to each other for hours." Jimin points out.

"That's not it... If that was it then Hobi would stink of Taehyung and he doesn't..." Jungkook twists his head.

You and Jin make eye contact waiting to see what conclusion the Bunny draws, hoping he might just drop it. But of course, he doesn't, and now the whole van is paying attention, even Yoongi glances occasionally in the rearview, although the amusement in his eyes suggests he already knows why you smell so strongly of Jin. 

"We... cuddled." You supply 

"Just cuddled?" Hoseok raises his brow.

"Why does it matter?" Jin interrupts.

"I don't suppose it does... Although Taehyungie is looking rather put out." Hoseok laughs, although there is an air of jealousy in his own tone. 

The panda looks less than impressed for having been called out and turns away from the group, pouting to himself. Jimin takes pity and drops the topic, trying to distract Tae instead and Jin seems content to remove himself too. 

Jungkook seems to make it his mission for the remainder of the car ride to make you smell more like him, running his hands across your waist, and kissing all along your throat. Ever since he kissed you for the first time, it seemed like he couldn't get enough of touching you. It also seemed like he had become far more comfortable with Taehyung and Hoseok too, you had caught him lusting after the pair on more than one occasion, although he hadn't quite worked up the confidence to do anything about it yet. 

The villa you pull up outside of has you do a double take. It's breathtakingly stunning. The grounds are lush, green, and well-manicured. The pool is large, with a jacuzzi section and a slide. The patio is littered with lounge chairs, with a BBQ and bar in the corner. You could probably spend an hour out here just exploring.

But Jimin grabs your attention as he throws open the front door and gasps. 

You follow him along to see what the excitement is about. Taehyung grins to himself as he watches you all take in the humungous living space. The villa puts your humble cottage to shame. A cinema screen takes up the far wall with beanbags and blankets layout before it. The kitchen is to die for and you can already see the way it has garnered Yoongi's gaze. 

Jimin takes the stairs two at a time, dragging Jungkookie with him in a rush to pick their own rooms. 

"Hey! Wait for me," Taehyung yells as he runs after the pair. 

Jin spots a hallway off to the side and takes it as his opportunity to wander off, leaving you with Namjoon.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask.

"Talk about what?" He mumbles.

"Why your mood is so sour." 

He had the sense to look a little bit guilty about his attitude. It's hard to miss the way he has retreated in on himself. He avoids your eyes, pretending to take in the new surroundings. You take his hand and lead him away from the living room and out onto the back patio. 

The back is almost more stunning than the front. A wondrous flower garden with plenty of places to get lost in. Namjoon seems to get a little caught up in the new environment. He takes you along with him as he admires different flowers. You aren't sure if he is genuinely enamoured with the place, or if he is just trying to avoid talking to you about his real issues. 

Eventually, you come across a bench and pull him to sit down with you. You sit side by side for a little while, watching as a butterfly flits past. 

"I don't want to ruin everyone's vacation." Namjoon sighs eventually.

"Then don't." You shrug.

"I just can't help but feel like I'm not doing enough for everyone. I could never have afforded anything like this for them." He leans his elbows on his knees and places his face in his hands. 

You reach across his shoulders to comfort him and he leans slightly into the embrace.

"Do you really think anyone cares that you aren't the one who paid for this trip?" You ask him.

"I care." He growls

"Namjoon, you need to get over this. It was one thing when you were the only one catering to a pack of four... But there are so many more of us now, it's unreasonable for you to think you should be the only one contributing anymore." The bear huffs defeated, it's like he knows you're right but he just can't let go. You hear him sniffle and your heart breaks for him. You turn yourself more into him, holding him tighter. His hands come away from his face and he pulls you into his lap. His face buries into the crook of your neck and he holds you for a while. 

He holds you until you are both sticky with sweat from the heat. The air around you two becomes unbearably humid by the time he lets you go just a little. He pulls back to look in your eyes, and you reach up to push the sweaty hair away from his forehead. 

"I'm still the pack leader. I want to do more for all of you." He whines in a petulant voice you've never heard from him before

"You do plenty." You point out, smoothing his hair down even more.

You play with the short strands, curling them around in your fingers.

"You provide so well for your pack Joonie. You put a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs, love in our hearts... You could never do more for us."

He takes in your words, blinking slowly.

"When... when you say love in our hearts. Do you mean that as a collective... or as an individual?" He asks

It's only then you realise what you might've admitted to. 

You think about it for a moment and he waits patiently for your answer.

"I mean it as both." You confirm. 

You can practically feel the way his mood shifts, his scent changing from acrid smoke to comforting warmth. 

"Could you... could you say it as an individual?" His expression turns shy.

"I love everything you do for your pack Joonie. I love how you protect us. and... I think I'm in love with you, just a little bit..." You say, suddenly going shy yourself. 

"I think I'm in love with you too, and I don't think I am the only one." He responds. 

You lean forward into his embrace and he kisses you softly once, and then twice, and then the kisses don't stop until you are both out of breath and you are panting in his lap. The sweat is dripping down your temples, the air sticky and gross, but neither of you pulls away regardless of how hot the world seems.

"Y/N-ah? Joon? Are you out here?" Jin calls through the bushes.

"Over here," Namjoon calls back.

He leans his forehead against yours and waits for Jin to stumble across the pair of you.

"Well, don't you two look cosy." Jin comments smiling at the pair of you. "And you look like you're feeling a bit better." 

He reaches out and ruffles Namjoon's hair. 

"The others sent me to find you, they want to play some game in the pool and apparently we need teams of four." He says.

Jin holds out his hand and helps you off of Namjoon's lap. You cringe when you feel how clammy your palm is in his. Suddenly, you could think of nothing more refreshing than a dip in the pool.

Next

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn’t have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you’re feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn’t have to be BTS

[runner5ive]

Hello hello hello I LOVE your art it is so gorgeous and constantly in my queue. Your Five is adorable and I love them. And I have questions for them!

Do they have a daily routine? What’s it like?

What traits do you and Five share?

Which ones are purely Fives?

What color(s) do they wear the most?

When’s their birthday? How do they celebrate it?

What’s their ‘default’ state?

Do they have a survival mode they put on? Or are they think about that kind of stuff all the time? If they ‘put on’ a survival mode, what sets that off? 

Favorite place to be?

Do they have a pre and post run routine? What’s that like?

What do other characters associate them with and why?

How would they describe themselves? Whether it’s true or not.

Which characters are they really close to and why?

How would these characters describe them and why? Whether it’s true or not

What’s a precious object they have? Why is it special?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Hello! Apologies about the wait! I cant even form the words to explain how intense work has been recently lmao.

Long post is long! So I answered everything under the cut below!

Do they have a daily routine?

Uhhh yes? But its mainly the runners routine. Get up early - earlier than most in Abel. Breakfast. Pick up running rota from Sam. Depending on when theyre needed they either spend the day running or fixing up Abel/dealing with repairs/training in the runners areas. Then the evenings are mostly to themselves, but they tend to help Janine out a lot and have an early night.

What traits do you and Five share? Which ones are purely Fives?

Oh my gosh I have no idea? Five isn’t a self-insert so they differ from me in lots of ways. Uhhh. I asked a few friends for their opinion on this and they they said the following:

I would also add that we’d both walk into a horde of zombs for a coffee

What color(s) do they wear the most?

Honestly? Probably a dark red. Mostly because I headcanon that Abel’s uniform is any red/maroon shirt they can find.

When’s their birthday?

Nobody knows (: They’re rather forget everything about their life before the apocalypse and do not want to reveal anything that can trace them back to the person they once were. Sam figures it out of course (but he’ll take that information to the grave)

How do they celebrate it?

They dont (: although their friends throw them an annual ‘adoption day’ party, to celebrate the day they joined Abel

What’s their ‘default’ state?

They’re actually quite quiet (I mean, theyre mute, but you know). They’re a bit of a wall flower. They like to listen, which is what makes they a perfect match for Sam, who likes to talk.

Do they have a survival mode they put on? Or are they think about that kind of stuff all the time?

Childhood trauma means theyre always in survival mode :D Although they can relax more nowadays thanks to feeling safe with their pals.

If they ‘put on’ a survival mode, what sets that off? 

New people, or people of authority. They are very affectionate in general, but people tend to have to prove themselves to them. They find it easier to trust new people as the seasons go on.

Favorite place to be?

Janine’s farmhouse

Do they have a pre and post run routine? What’s that like?

Theyre quite good at being mindful of warm ups/cool-downs and stretching. Other than the things expected of them, such as a decontamination shower, the only real post run routine is that they never really say goodbye to Sam before a run, and he doesnt say bye either. Feels too much like inviting bad luck to do so.

What do other characters associate them with and why?

Sunshine and big smiles. Sunflowers. But also like... Garbage lmao.

How would they describe themselves? Whether it’s true or not.

Expendable (:

Which characters are they really close to and why?

They’re closest with Sam, as the two of them tend to understand each other better than anyone else in Abel. But Simon is a close second. Simon and Five have a ride together or die together kinda friendship. I cant remember specific episodes, but there are specific moments where everyone is like ‘lets throw Five into this severely dangerous situation because they are Runner Five and theyre most likely be okay’ and he is like ‘???? Lets not ???? That’s ??? Actually fucked up???’ He’s the easiest for them to be goofy with too.

How would these characters describe them and why? Whether it’s true or not

Brave to the point of idiocy. Self-sabotaging. Goofy and silly. Loyal. Dependable. Tragic.

What’s a precious object they have? Why is it special?

They arrive at Abel with nothing except the mullin’s uniform (which gets burnt they decide theyre not going back) so they dont really have anything from the before. Most objects are like massive spoilers so imma not mention them. But the thing they cherish more than anything - which is not really an object - is when they get their own room. Theyve never really had a proper home before.

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Janine. Janine says jump they dont even ask how high before theyre launching themself off a burning building!

Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

At first I was going to say there isn’t really anyone they wouldnt hear out, but then I remembered a fic I’ll never actually write and my answer to this is their biological parents who are alive and well during the apocalypse (:

[crows-templets]

Hello! Welcome to crows templates

We make templets for pk, simply plural, and anything else a system would need templets for

We’ll happily take requests! Please keep these rules in mind when requesting:

•it can take anywhere from a few hours, to multiple days to complete a request, please be patient. My queue is long and most requests aren’t posted until a month after the initial request

•please give us a theme and preferably a few emojis or symbols please give me at least 1 emoji/symbol to work with.

•on the note above, you can request from media (game, book, show, movie,ect), but I require emoji suggestions, this is a bit slippery on media I already know, but don’t assume I know any media

•only one request per ask. You can send multiple requests back to back though!

•Minor edits are allowed, please keep credits

•we can deny a request for any reason

•include in your request if there is any information you do or don’t want (introject info,subsystems,etc) I default to including a subsystem space, I do not default to including intorject information

•if you do not need a space for some information (subsystem, introjects) you are welcome to remove that info, do not remove credits

•include in your request if you want an alter or a system intro, if you don’t i will default to alter

•our bio will say if our requests are open, if our requests aren’t open do not request

•if you’re using one of our templates on tumblr I appreciate being tagged in the credits! It’s not required I just get really excited to see my templates in the wild!

•be polite when requesting. I am going to start turning down requests that are demanding. (A simple please or thank is enough I’m not asking for much)

Template master post part one

Part two

Part three

Collective intro templates

Types of templets we make:

•alter intro

•system intro

•singletsona intro (ONLY FOR SYSTEMS)

Templets we won’t make

•searching templets (source calls, partner calls,etc)

•display names

Please Dni if:

•endo

•pro endo

•pro ship

•radqueer

•basic Dni (homophobic,transphobic, racist, etc)

•believes in NPD-abuse

Welcome to interact!

•syscourse neural

•anti endo

•queer folk

•m-spec lesbians and other contradictory

Tag list: @404-systemnotfound @collective-stupidity @lovesomesys @constellation-sys @wretchedlittlebug @seraphim-coinz

The tag list is when requests open or close, if you want to be added send an ask or dm!

If our templates aren’t your style, our lovely(/p) friend bee-hive make amazing templates as well!!

WE HAVE A SERVER NOW! Made and moderated by us and @lovesomesys !! Here

We try not to use closed symbols, if we do *please* tell us so we can fix it

[infiniteeight8]

Tony and Stephen have a little kid. Tony is just a little bit jealous that the kid prefers Stephen and he is just a little bit obvious about it.

This is from, like, halfway through my prompt queue, and all the older prompts are great and I look forward to writing them, but I wanted my first one back from the IronStrange Week push to be a quick and easy one, and I already had an idea for this.

It’s a bit angsty, though. Sorry!

The child is an OC, any resemblance in names is accidental.

-

Andrew has always preferred Stephen. Even when he was a baby, he always calmed down faster with Stephen, smiled more with Stephen, managed all his firsts with Stephen cheering him on.

Tony hoped, privately, that when he got a little older, Andrew would appreciate him more. He’s four now, and it’s still Stephen that he runs to with his triumphs and Stephen that he wants comfort from.

Buying his affection isn’t the solution, Tony knows it isn’t, but it feels like the only way he can get Andrew excited and affectionate with him. Thank you hugs aren’t as good as I love you hugs, but they’re better than nothing. Even if they do get him in trouble.

“Tony, I already said no,” Stephen says after Andrew has run off with his latest toy. He’s frowning.

“Come on, he’s so excited!” Tony waves after their son. “How can that be wrong?”

Stephen sighs. “We’ve had this discussion. If he gets a new toy every week, all he learns is that everything is disposable, and he never gets to appreciate anything in depth.” They have had this discussion. Tony pauses a little too long, searching for a light response. Stephen gives him a searching look. “What’s wrong?

Damn it, Stephen knows him too well. “Nothing,” Tony says.

“Nothing means you don’t want to talk about it,” Stephen says. “But this is about Andrew. We need to talk about it.”

Tony rubs a hand over his face. “He doesn’t love me,” he finally admits. “I know buying him stuff isn’t a great substitute, but—”

Stephen takes Tony’s hand and pulls him over to sit on the couch, looking into his eyes intently. “Tony, Andrew absolutely loves you.”

Tony looks down at their clasped hands. “Not as much as he loves you.”

Stephen’s hesitation is telling. Andrew’s preferences are pretty obvious, after all. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You can’t,” Tony says, sighing. “I just… Everyone says that kids love unconditionally. I guess I thought—” He shrugs.

“He does love you unconditionally,” Stephen insists. “Okay, he has preferences, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

Tony snorted. “I guess you still love me more than anyone else,” he says wryly.

Stephen just pulls Tony into his arms and holds him for a while.

[zeehasablog]

Slower knitting: longer to complete projects

Nifty knitting is one of my favourite packs available on The Sims; and playing historical, means it's an integral hobby for sims to improve their Fun bars.

Unfortunately, while playing a lot with the pack, I found that the projects were completed very quickly, and it seemed very unrealistic - it annoyed me a lot!

So, it's another one of the things I was annoyed with and decided I'd try fixing!

After learning about XML, and downloading tools to work the coding - I have made this mod.

Originally, it would take 100-150 sim minutes to complete a standard project, and 200 for a large project. Interestingly, in my search for a mod to extend this time, I found only one to drastically reduce it - as quick as 10 sim minutes!!!

After playing around with time, I settled on 4x the original speed - though, I'm interested to know how others feel about this time.

This mod: - increases the time spent knitting a normal project from 100 sim minutes, to 400 - increases the time spent knitting a large project from 200 sim minutes, to 800

In conjunction with this mod, I recommend:

Using MC Command Centre to make skills more difficult, which will slow progress of level

Downloading @janesimsten's functional spinning wheel - you can then use this to spin wool from your animals, to make yarn for knitting, or thread for cross-stitch

This mod, obviously, requires the "Nifty Knitting" Stuff Pack, but you also need the XML Injector in your mods folder, in order for it to to inject my coding 😋

I have edited the following coding: knitting_CraftingPhase.xml knitting_CraftingPhase_BigProject.xml So anything else that modifies these may cause a conflict.

I would like to thank @janesimsten for helping me work out how to ensure the status circle thing in the queue, matches the length of time to knit the project!!

~Download now, for free, at CurseForge ~

~~ Terms Of Use ~~