#using WW's work here

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #5: Stamp

It was raining.

He pointedly ignored the footsteps behind him. They, in their kindness, pointedly did not speak up. Not that there was much to hear over the storm that intensified over their heads. To everyone else it was a moment to hole up, to wait, to keep their heads down in the outskirts. To him it was a sign. A bad one. Good. The electrope tether hummed in his hands as he spun the end of it in rote motion. How far up, this time? His practiced eyes spotted anchor points all the way up the structure. Checking them off like they were a puzzle to solve, like something one might work on over a morning coffee. There wasn’t any need for the shorter hops today. No point in taking a path with the handholds and stopping spots close together. That would be for The tether slammed into the ground as his fist met stone. The blood dripped down his knuckles; the rain washed it off. The pain hadn’t arrived yet, but it was no mercy there. He looked at the exposed, sliced flesh. He flexed his hand, over and over, as if he could grip the half-formed memory that got away from him. Okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. Ignore the extra set of footsteps behind you that’re the wrong ones His other fist hit the stone. Then he picked up his tether.

Putting his climbing claws and boots on was a bit more difficult now. He appreciated the extra time to get rained on, at least, while he was still on the ground. It felt therapeutic in a way that little else could. Indulging in misery in the preparation for something that was supposed to bring him joy. Indulging in rage as his manufactured claws bit into the same stone that he’d used to draw his blood. Better than a fistfight he knew he’d lose. Better than a conversation with someone who understood. The wrong footsteps were still down there. He punched his way through an old window, shattering it in tune to a thunderclap as he hauled his way inside. Even now he couldn’t help but evaluate the insides for valuables, for safety, for picking out the interesting things to give as examples He slumped against the wall. He landed in the shards. He could feel them cut him through his gear. He knew he’d have to clean himself up. Who knew what was on these old windowpanes. He could get infected. …It was so hard to care. Or, rather, he wished it was. He wished it was. That was half the problem, wasn’t it? Forgetting made it so easy to lose your grip on all the other emotions from it. Forgetting made it so easy to pretend everything was fine. It was hard to let his hate pull him down like gravity when it could find no purchase on him. When hate had no barbs with which to anchor. When pain could barely substitute. Self flagellation barely got him anywhere besides a response of hoping it didn’t get infected.

He shifted to bring his bag around to his side. Fished in it for a long moment as if to pretend he didn’t know each and every pocket in it and where everything was- even if he’d thrown it around in a rage before. Even if he’d realized things were missing His bloodied fist closed around a piece of metal and electrope. His regulator flashed to life in the wake of a thunderclap as he held it up in the dark room. But his eyes weren’t on it. A shadow in the lightning flash. “…Galena,” Came the voice of the wrong footsteps. That soft, diffuse green glow of a presence that he’d wished stayed on the ground. The gentle and kind hand that reached out with a comforting touch- His tether snapped taut and yanked him to his feet before it could. Before his eyes could fall on the other. She wasn’t who he wanted to see. That wasn’t the name he wanted to hear She knew it, too. He climbed back out into the rain.

He couldn’t remember reaching the top. It had been struck relatively recently. The old infrastructure not meant to take direct bolts like that, not meant to sustain that kind of damage. Frankly it was impressive the building was still upright with a giant hole blown in the top of it. The rain could get in now. Rot the insides, rust them and corrode them, and slowly warp the structure until it would slam into the earth without warning. He wondered how long it would take. He stared at the regulator in his hand. He wondered how long it would take.

The heel of his boot crunched something metal and worn. The sparks caught like lightning against the wet stone. Like a poor mimicry of rage. Like a half-thought copy of something real. Slop made by a rusted mind. He anchored his tether to the one last support column that could handle his weight.

He leapt from the tower.

[tzarrz]

to all people who said PART 1 made them laugh - i lov u 💗 this is for u

[dewmeferdavine]

Been thinking today about forcefam where you wake up... not in a different house, but with /other people/ in your house...

You finally moved out 2 years ago, you've been living alone for a while now, which was easy to switch to after collage years of cramped, sweaty dorms. The house isn't the best, but it was within budget and more important, available at all. It needed some TLC, but was in no way beyond saving, even to a new collage grad with close to no experience doing house repairs at all. Oh well, in the age of Youtube, anyone can do it. It was a 2 bedroom, but the other room sat empty, save for some boxes from moving you keep kicking yourself for still never unpacking... but it's a strange house.

Such a happy, nice looking neighborhood. You first noticed it was for sale some time ago, and expected it to be bought in a matter of days. But it sat and sat. When you were ready to look for a place to stay, it was shocking to see it still there, vacant. In a reasonable walkable distance to some local buildings, in a safe part of town. Too good to be true, you thought at first, but when they allowed you to look around inside, the agent allowed you to scrutinize every inch.... No termites... the foundation is fine... pipes and amenities dont need to be replaced (though upgrades are always nice)... The most it needs is a fresh paint coat and treatment for some moisture issues like mold. Otherwise, the house was perfect. It came with a lot too- the fridge, stove, even the washer and dryer. The neighborhood was wonderful too! Everyone's yards looked great, with gardens in the back and flowers out the front, kids played on the sidewalk but it didnt ever really feel 'too loud'. Apparently it's close to the schools around here too, but you havent visited them. You used to pass this area often but never really saw people out and about, so the bustle of the neighborhood life is actually a bit exciting and it sounds fun to get to know some new folks, though a bit intimidating as well...

The agent who was leading you around explained everyone nearby's been pitching in to keep it from getting overgrown while its been vacant, mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters, and one of the teens a few houses down has been practicing using his dad's powerwasher before summer comes around because he wants to do some jobs while schools out, and he sure seems to be doing a good enough job at it because the house looks great. Why, the house hardly even looks vacant, it's been so well kept it nearly feels like the homeowner will pull in any second... which almost makes it seem like the house is calling for you to be the one to grace it.

So, you moved in. It's still surreal over 2 years later. It almost makes you feel guilty you havent been doing as much with the house as you planned, its always easier in the moment to say you'll do it. Things that were more pressing got done, sure, like cleaning out some mold and replacing a few lights. You've finally got the hang of living alone, but it's a bit strange all the same.

Some days, it still feels like you'll walk into your living room and see someone on the couch, scrolling absently on their phone, or watching the news. Maybe that's why the shock doesnt set it immediately when you wake up this monday morning to a gentle shake.

"Wake up dear, come get dressed so you can eat breakfast before heading out."

A woman's voice... You sigh as you hear footsteps leave the room. Deciding you must be dreaming, you allow yourself to lay still, keeping your eyes closed. As much as you'd like to fall back into the gentle numbness of sleep, something keeps you where you are. Can you not fall asleep in dreams? You realize you dont know as much about this as you wish you did. Maybe it's time to borrow some books on dreams from the library. You dont open your eyes much at all when you hear the footsteps return.

"Come on now, it's Monday baby. If you dont eat breakfast soon, you'll be late. And im not sending you off the school without breakfast!"

That woman's voice again. You dont get a good look at her before she goes again, you were still too bleary eyed as you sat up. You let yourself take in the environment. The morning sun is coming in through the blinds, gentle bars of gold line the floor from their half opened plastic strips... Does it really take a dream to think, 'I really have to replace those gross old dust traps.' you ask yourself jokingly. But the world only gets clearer the longer you sit up, and a feeling of anxious mystery begins to settle on your back. It's... definitely your room. But you didnt put up those plastic bits. No, theyre not yellowed, they're those tacky glow in the dark stars. The half folded clothes on top of your dresser you didnt put away are gone too. The time worn old stuffed animal youve had sense you were 5 or so sits on top of the dresser now. Sure, you took it with you when you moved out, but the sentimental lump of dust and polyester had been sitting in a box for years now. It's only now that you start to hear the quiet sound of a kitchen in use, and the smell of something sweet and baked.

You will your legs to move, wanting to investigate but not wanting to do so in your underwear, regardless of if this is a dream. The dresser drawer opens in your hands to a flash of colors you dont quite recognize. reds and blues and yellows, scattered graphics of cartoon characters or animals, colorful stripes and childish patterns. Feeling more intrigued by the minute, you just grab at random for a shirt and pants, putting them on and going for your bedroom door. It hung slightly ajar, but even that didnt quite help you as you hesitated to open it and go. But with an inhale and spare scraps of courage you power through.

Creeping out to the kitchen, the woman who must have woke you stood, facing away, focused on something else. Pancakes sat on a cooking rack. Unfortunately, she turns around and notices you, and although you're a bit shocked, you dont feel in danger. It's just a dream after all, right? Just a weird dream.

"Good morning dear!" She greets you, walking over and pinching your cheek. "Dont you just look adorable~! Dressing yourself these days? Grab a plate, if you want any juice, i just too it out of the fridge."

She shuffles off to the other side of the house, leaving you a bit baffled. Nonetheless, you do as you're told, but as you sit down and start to eat, you start to struggle to swallow, as the fear sets in.

Can... can you eat in dreams? These taste... well, fine. Clearly a box mix. But thats the troubling part. It's a dream so you told yourself theyd taste like cake, but they dont. no matter how much you concentrate, they dont. They taste like totally passable instant mix pancakes. You noticed it before, but it's only started to trouble you seriously now, but everything feels real. Walking, breathing, seeing... feels real. The clothes feel... like clothes. You look back at the train track print on your arm, desperately trying to control your breathing as you feel yourself pale.

It's normal. It's... totally normal. Legible. With your clear vision. A bird sings outside the window. You hear the woman downstairs begin to speak, sterner than she did with you.

"Danny im not saying it again, get up. You're not just walking yourself to school you know, and with my new job I cant drop you off anymore."

... Who the fuck is DANNY? And now that we're thinking about it, who the fuck is this woman? You really start to worry about having eaten, and thank yourself for having not touched your glass of cold orange juice, even if it's sweating glass is hard to resist. You feel your body betray you as you freeze and tears start to well up at the bottom of your vision. It's the type of situation every person probably thinks theyll just simply handle 'right'. But as the stranger walks back over to the kitchen, and a second pair of footsteps walk up from the basement, you dont run to the phone. You dont grab a knife, or dash for the door. You sit there helpless as she notices, coming over and drying your face with a sleeve.

"Oh honey, i know nobody likes to go to school. You cant stay with mommy all day though, mommy has to go to work soon!"

M.... mommy?

...

School?

[thedrotter]

((cw blood, reference to eating a person))

(OC) More Shiba drawings, but these are actually recent! This time I will share a bit about Shiba. A non-goat creature from the Nether (She is a Minecraft OC ww) who now walks with society. She can be briefly described as strange in any angle ww

[star-the-car]

being in a m o o d (tm) sucks-

i just wanna oiurgkhreailijgkustfijlkigjrerk but i cant cause of finals week :(

[themyscirah]

Not Tom King diagnosing the problem with his own run in issue #2

[johnbaccarat]

Ever wanted to rotate or move your sims after they were already in a pose? Or maybe have an easier time aligning multiple sims or sim(s) to an object?

This is basically (almost) a replacement for the "Teleport Any Sim" mod, as I found it to be quite unintuitive to have to use buy mode when wanting to pose multiple sims or a sim to an object. There may be some very niche edge cases were you may still need "Teleport Any Sim" for a pose, but otherwise you can just use this, which I find to be a lot more convenient to use.

The mod comes with 5 interactions that only show up when posing. For more info on the interactions and edge cases view the mod's description on Curseforge or ModTheSims. It works with both WW's (either version) and Andrew's pose players.

Downloads

Curseforge

ModTheSims

SimFileShare (Please read the description on one of the other sites)

Poses used in the GIFs

Ballerina Posepack (Adult) by ashlegacies

Chair Poses #2 by yanisim

Pack pose: the tango by Lana Byakko

Showcase/Guide

Updates

If you want to read through all update changes to this mod since this post was made, go here.

@ts4-poses I hope you don't mind that I tagged you in this. I know this isn't a pose pack, but you may be interested in the mod.

[sailorsoons]

Chat, is that Rizz? (j. ww)

PAIRING: Streamer!Wonwoo x Streamer! F.reader 

SUMMARY: Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.

WC: 5,366

AU: Established Relationship, Faux Rivals 

GENRE: Smut, a hint of fluff

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: This is so cheesy and stupid and I don’t care!! Explicit language, teasing and light antagonization, gamer and streamer speak in spots, sexually explicit content including spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, hint of overstimulation, playful banter and teasing during sex, bodily fluids, soft dom if you squint. UNEDITED.

A/N: Originally written on sailorrhansol for @daechwitatamic I'm pretty sure this came out of us doing god awful puns and this was the result.

A/N 2: This is unedited sorry!

MASTERLIST | ASK | PERMANENT TAG LIST 

“YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO HIT IMMORTAL WITH THAT STRAT, WONWOO,” you tease, cringing as he gets gunned down by the enemy team’s Reyna. “Rotated too early.” 

“Here they go,” Seungcheol mutters into the mic, his exasperation making you grin as you fix your eyes on the screen. Like both you and Wonwoo, Seungcheol has already died in the round, watching as Mingyu navigates the map to pick up the bomb to attempt to save the round. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you while you were dead,” Wonwoo shoots back. You scrunch your nose, knowing that it is, unfortunately, true. “I was in the land of the living. You know. Because I didn’t dry peek long and die.” 

“Seungcheol told me to push site!”

“Maybe push with util, though? Or be better.”

On the right side of your screen, you can see your chat blowing up. You grin and roll your eyes - you aren’t actually bothered by Wonwoo and you know he isn’t mad either. Playing games with him always elicits teasing and a steady back and forth.

Once upon a time, his poking might bother you. Now, you’ve played enough games with Wonwoo over the last two years to know better. It’s all in good faith, and it’s part of the joke, this ongoing way the two of you bicker and go tit for tat. 

“I am nothing if not an accommodating teammate,” you offer back. Mingyu manages to get to the site, swinging wildly to check for enemies. “I’m a helper. I like to help people.”

“You can help me by shutting up,” Mingyu mutters. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echos, a smirk prominent in his voice. “Shut up.” 

“No I’m talking to you too,” Mingyu assures. “And you did rotate without me and too early. So she’s right.”

That shuts Wonwoo up, a chorus of laughter echoing in the headset as your team watches Mingyu try and go for the clutch. Your laughter fades and you mute yourself on Discord in an attempt not to distract Mingyu, eyes flicking over to the comments flooding in on your stream.

It’s a rewarding feeling to see how many there are, donation notifications popping up on the top of your screen making your heart stutter a little. You can see Seokmin moderating as usual in the chat, reminding people the commands for frequently asked questions and removing anything weird. 

There is a lot of weird. 

“Thank you for the dono, Shaezy98. Yes, PiCheolwinning, I hit Immortal a few days ago! What do you guys think about doing a nonstop stream until I hit Radiant? Would that be fun?” 

Resounding yes responses flood the comments. You grin, pulling your legs up into the chair to make small talk with the community you’ve so carefully built over the last few years. You see a suggestion in the comments that makes you laugh, leaning forward to unmute yourself in Discord. 

“Hey Wonwoo,” you ask. “My chat wants us to try 1v1 where we customize each other’s settings. Thoughts?” 

It’s a common question. People love the dynamic you and Wonwoo specifically have, enjoying seeing the friendly rivalry grow over the years. You can recall several streams you’ve done just playing together, hosting charity events and promoting new games as a dynamic duo. 

Some wonder if you’re together. There’s no hard evidence, but there's chemistry there. A lightness to your banter that comes with a familiarity your fans try to piece together, a gentleness that sounds the edges of your insults to make sure the other knows your kidding. 

Wonwoo lets out a deep hum. “You’re gonna go demon mode on my settings. Then I’d have to change them back.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he’s worried about his settings, as if he can’t export them. “Is that a no?”

“What’s in it for me? Besides my fucked up settings and the risk you change all my weapon skins.”

Clearing your throat, you put on your best telemarketer voice. “The benefits to this offer are endless. For a limited time only, you can take advantage  of quality time spent with me-” 

“Not a benefit.” 

You ignore his interruption, a vein in your forehead ticking at the comment. “You can protect your honor and pride as a gamer, and as a special early bird offer, I’ll give all donations from that stream to a charity of your choosing. Thoughts?” 

Mingyu ends up losing the round, earning a resounding sigh and curse from everyone on the team. You move your mouse around to click through weapons and set yourself up for the next round. “They’re going to force,” you say, momentarily distracted from your sales pitch by strategy. “Wonwoo I can buy you a marshall.”

“Yeah.” 

You make the transaction for him and drop the weapon so he can pick it up, noting the comments coming in from viewers.

NoLo88: See, she always does stuff for him - I swear they’re together!!!

EzBoyZ: No way would she date him.

NoLo88: Are you kidding? Have you seen Wonwoo? He’s like the hottest streamer ever.

LoLPog69: Ugh I hope they’re not dating, she’s better single. 

 “See, I’m fun. I’m nice. I’m a team player who helps win games. What do you say?” 

“Fine, it’s a date.” 

The way he so casually says it makes your stomach flip. You hesitate for a moment, blinking in surprise before you realize he’s said it without really thinking about it. Biting  your bottom lip to fight a smile, you ask, “Oh? A date? Chat, is that rizz?” 

“Oh fuck off,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to cover up his mistake. You can’t help it - your smile spreads as he rushes to gloss over what he said. “It’s a figure of speech.” 

“He’s trying to rizz me, chat!”

“In your dreams.”

“You should change your tag from WonuWizard to WonuRizzard.” Wonwoo curses as he gets killed. You cackle, killing an enemy and taking their gun. “Oo, an operator. Do you want this, Wonwoo? What about changing your tag to RizzardOfOz?” 

Wonwoo groans on the other end of the mic and you can imagine the way he pushes back in his chair, sinking a little further down as he spectates the match. “Yes, save the op for me, please. Also, get your chat out of mine. I’m going to get a Rizzstraining order.” 

You note the way he says for me when he asks for the weapon you’ve picked up to keep for him. It is a favor to him, intended for him. Your viewers notice. 

Seungcheol swears. “You two are insufferable to play with sometimes. We’re trying to win a game.” 

Mingyu huffs. “Just stop Rizzsponding, Cheol. They’ll shut up eventually.” 

With a laugh, you settle in and focus on the game. Even as the teasing dies down, you and Wonwoo fall into a comfortable give and take, working together to win the next few rounds and eventually, the entire match after Wonwoo closes out the game with an ace. 

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, stretching. It’s getting late at night, and you feel a little tired. “Mad Rizzpect, Wonwoo. Up your rizz game and maybe I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Up my rizz game?” His tone has shifted as everyone starts talking over one another, Seungcheol and Mingyu getting into it over something sports related. You’re focused on the soft purr of Wonwoo’s voice, though. The raspiness of it. “If I wanted to rizz you, I would.” 

Fuck. His voice. You shift a little in your seat, clicking around your secondary monitor that is off stream to pull up Wonwoo’s stream. It loads, immediately showing his dark room with slow pulsing RGB lights in the background and shelving displaying different collectible items. 

Wonwoo looks like he always does: leaned back casually in his seat, the glow of his computer reflecting in the lens of his black-frame glasses. Dark bangs hang in his eyes, the rest of his hair hidden by the hood that is pulled up over his head. He’s chewing on one of the strings of his hoodie as he talks to his chat, voice gentle.

His hoodie has a little animated version of him over the left side of the chest, the character winking and giving finger hearts. You feel your lips twitch - you always loved the little cartoon version of himself. As always, he looks totally at ease. It’s the same even in an intense game, Wonwoo never feeling the need to lean closer to the screen or showing the tension in his shoulders.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Except when you can force a rise out of him, of course. 

A bunch of notifications flood in your chat. You look over to them, reading through them and grinning. You pull your mic toward you, shaking your head. “Ugh I have all the Wonwoo apologists in my chat defending your rizz.” 

“Good” he shoots back. You watch in delayed time as he smirks on his end. He so rarely does a full smile, but you know it’s beautiful when he does. “You need to take Rizzponsibility for implying I have no rizz.” 

“No way,” Mingyu gasps. “Two Wonwoo puns in a single night?”

“Puns and attempted rizz?” You ask, cocking your head. “Huge day for Wonwoo fans everywhere.” 

“Again, that wasn’t rizz. You’ll know it when I use it.”  

“Sure, sure. Or maybe you just… don’t have any.” 

You watch the tick in Wonwoo’s jaw. A grin spreads across your face and you try to suppress it, knee bouncing in anticipation as you watch the minute changes in his expression. He drums his fingers on the armrest of his gaming chair, hypnotizing you for a moment. He has long, elegant fingers paired with a beautiful set of hands. 

“You really think I have no rizz?” he asks, voice low and oh you know that voice. You suppress a shiver and shake your head ‘no’ before realizing that he can’t see you. Or he does - because he says, “Use your words like a big girl.” 

If you weren’t on stream, your eyes might roll back in your head at the soft purr of his voice, the way in which he immediately switches gears, put out by your accusations that you already know are false. 

And because you’re you, you push him a little more, interested to see where it goes.  “Are you watching my stream, Jeon Wonwoo?”

“Mhmm. Trying to learn rizz, since apparently I have none. Go on, show the class. What have you got?”

Seungcheol and Mingyu both ooo and quiet down, putting you on the spot. Heat tiptoes up your neck to your ears. Being a streamer by nature is being under the spotlight, especially when you have a high follower account. This is different though, the pressure suddenly flipped to you as your friends settle in, waiting. 

“It’s all about the charizzma,” you joke, voice a little raspy. You swallow, eyes flicking to your secondary monitor where you can see Wonwoo watching his screen with a growing grin. “I can’t teach you how to have that, Jeon.” 

“What can you teach me, Angel?” 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You know that commanding tone anywhere, the soft shift from teasing to something a little darker, a little sharper. He doesn’t care that you’re both on the screen for live viewers, that this will be recorded, or that you have friends on the call, who have taken a backseat to watch the fencing match. 

And the angel. Sure, it’s a small part of your brand and gamertag, but the way Wonwoo says it implies something intimate. Darker. A gentle caress of the word against your skin. 

When you come up with nothing, Wonwoo grins on screen, devastatingly handsome. He knows he’s surprised you. “Not a problem,” he quips. “I’m an excellent teacher. I can teach you how to rizzpond to a direct question.” 

He surprises you by ending the stream suddenly. You blink in surprise, both Seungcheol and Mingyu calling Wonwoo’s name, assuming his internet has gone out or has been interrupted. With shaking hands, you remove one side of your headphones, listening. Heavy footsteps sound in the hall and you squeak, hitting the hotkey to show be right back on your stream.

Wonwoo stands in the doorway. He gives you a single, lopsided smirk before waltzing toward you, a predator stalking prey. His dark eyes are focused on you, drinking you in. 

“Noooo,” you yell at him, giddy and panicked all at the same time. You hold your hands out to push him away but he links your fingers instead pressing his palms against yours and pulls you toward him. He jerks your computer chair toward him, your knees crashing against his. “Hiiiii.” 

“No rizz, huh?” his voice is barely a murmur. 

“Ummm,” you glance over to your set up where the be right back glows. Wonwoo follows your line of sight before dropping his gaze back to you, eyes asking a question. “Do you… want to?”

Elation falls across his face. “I’m down if you are. You know that.” 

Chewing your lip, you smile and nod. You’ve long been planning to reveal that the two of you have been dating for a long time, and the present feels right. Not to mention the implication of him ending the stream and you slamming the be right back on at the same time. 

Wonwoo leans down and grabs the arms of your computer chair, spinning it around and pushing you back into the frame. He leans over your shoulder, the smell of sandalwood and lavender enveloping you, making your head spin. He hits the hotkey to turn your stream and mic back on. 

Your eyes drop to where you’re displayed in the camera, Wonwoo leans against the back of your chair, chest pressed to your shoulder as he grins at the camera. Your thighs clench, seeing that same cocky smirk you’re used to making a brief appearance on camera. 

“Sorry chat,” Wonwoo announces. “Sorry Cheol, Mingyu. I have to handle the disrizzspect going on in my own home. Say byeeee to chat, Angel.” 

“Byeeee,” you squeak on instinct, watching as he waves while your comments explode. He closes out the stream and cuts off the Discord call where Seungcheol and Mingyu are screeching, shutting down your computer entirely so there’s no chance for accidents. 

Stomach fluttering, you take off your headphones and look up at Wonwoo to find he’s already staring down at you, dark eyes hungry. You slide down a little in your chair, feeling your mouth go dry. You got what you wanted, but now that he’s there and you can feel the intensity crackling between you, you can’t help but balk just a little.

“What?” he asks, lips twitching at the corner. “Rizz got your tongue?” 

“I guess maybe you have a little rizz.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Wonwoo pulls your seat backward, spinning your chair around so that you face the bed. He lets go of the chair and walks backward, sitting on the edge of your bed. You stare at him, heart beating, breath quickening. “Now that there’s no one here I have rizz.” 

You pout. “It’s our brand.”

“Mhmm.” He leans back on your bed, the mattress dimpling under his weight. He pats his thigh with one hand. “You just love getting under my skin, don’t you?”

You climb out of your computer chair, stumbling a little as the blood starts to flow from where they were crisscrossed. He tsks at you as you regain your footing, padding over to where he sits, legs spread, thighs straining against his athletic shorts. 

Carefully, you climb into his lap. Your body buzzes as you settle over him, one knee on either side of his hips. You lean your weight into him, hands resting on top of his shoulders. Even through his hoodie, you can feel how warm his skin is. 

“Are you happy now?” 

“Huh?” 

One of his hands leaves the bed and cracks against your ass, starling you. You squeak and lean forward, the sting making your eyelids flutter. “You’re not even listening, are you?” 

“I wasn’t.” 

His hand kneads your ass through your shorts, soothing the sting from the slap. “I asked, are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted?” You nodded, letting your head hang down, burying your face in his neck. It’s warm and safe there, your thoughts sticky as his hand continues to explore your ass. “Remember when I said use your words like a big girl?”

“Yes. Yes, I got what I wanted.”

“And what was it you wanted?”

When you hesitate to answer, too focused on your slamming heart and stuttered breathing, his hand comes down across your ass again. You curse, melting into him, letting him bear your weight entirely. “Wanted to rile you up.”

“It worked.”

“I can tell.” 

Wonwoo’s hand trails to the edge of your shorts, fingers dancing along your thighs. You’re hype aware of his touch and the way it sends fire through you, stomach in knots and cunt aching between your legs as he fingers the hem of your shorts. 

“Is it okay that I interrupted your stream?”

The question is so much softer than he was a second ago. You lift your head to look at him. His face swims into focus, a momentary flicker of nervousness. Wonwoo is rarely impulsive, but the move to announce your rivalry is more romantic than most people knew was unplanned and spur of the moment. 

“It’s definitely okay. Is it okay with you?”

He nods, leaning forward to run his nose up the side of your neck. He inhales, taking in your scent and humming while the hand running along your shorts pulls at the fabric. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”

“No. Now the people in your chat know you’re mine.”

“Yours?” His mouth brushes against the hollow of your throat, hot and wet. Your head tilts back, lips parting as his tongue flicks against your skin. “Just wanted to claim me, is that it?”

“Your fans are horny?”

He nips your neck and a moan drips from you. “Yours aren’t?” 

“Not like yours.” 

“Too bad for them. There’s only one angel who can get under my skin.” Wonwoo takes you by the waist and rolls you over. Your breath leaves you in a huff as your back hits the mattress. He leans over you, knees caging you in on either side of your hips as he presses his mouth to your jawline, sucking kisses up toward your ear. “Only one drawback - she thinks I have no rizz.” 

You bring your hands to the hem of his hoodie, desperate to feel him. Sliding your hands under the fabric, you press your palms against his stomach, feeling his muscle flex as his skin warms your hands. His mouth is wet against your skin, teeth nipping your earlobe teasingly, drawing a raspy sound from you. 

“I think,” you gasp as he drops a hand between your legs to press against your clothed cunt, “That she might be wrong about the rizz.”

Wonwoo’s fingers apply pressure, barely circling your clit through the fabric. It worsens the ache between your legs, your thoughts getting scattered as you squirm underneath him. He brings his mouth to yours, stealing a greedy kiss. 

This is the part of Wonwoo that you know only you see. Where the calm and collected gamer turns into an all consuming force, stealing the breath from your lungs as his tongue presses against yours. You kiss him back with equal want, whimpering into his mouth as he presses his fingers a little harder against you. 

“Please,” you breathe against his mouth between kisses. “I know I was mean but please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m sorry!”

“Are you, though?” He mouths down your neck to your collarbone, the sting of his teeth soothed by the rough pass of his tongue. “You got exactly what you wanted and more.” 

“I ammmm.”

His laughter is rough. The hand between your legs comes up to the top of your shorts, dipping past the waistline to sink downward. He groans when he feels the dampness of your underwear, the way he’s already worked you up. 

“No rizz,” he mutters to himself. You throb when you feel his fingers pull your underwear to the side, knuckles running up your wet folds where he stops at your clit to press down. Your nails scrap against his abs, body tensing under the stimulation. “This is a wet fucking fucking pussy for someone who has no rizz.” 

You can’t think of a response, mind reeling as Wonwoo plays with you properly. You writhe in his hands, melting as his fingers brush up and down your slit before coming back up to gently circle your clit. Your feet kick a little under him, unable to sit still as he works you - teases you. 

Fuck you realize he might do this all night. 

“You have a lot of rizz,” you breath, pressing the back of your head into the bed, gasping in surprise as he sinks a finger into your entrance. Already you’re clenching down on him, wanting more. “Fuck.” 

“I don’t know… maybe I just… lack what you need.”

“No,” you answer quickly. “Just… ugh like that.” 

The ease at which he knows how to touch you makes everything feel tenfold. Wonwoo knows you like the back of your hand, both intimately and mentally. What had started as two streamers annoying one another had turned into friendship at some point - you’d met him at a convention and realized he was far gentler and softer than you imagine. 

That had turned into something further - something deeper. The want when you were around him was something that you hadn’t expected, but it hasn’t gone away since. Even though you get to have him like this, finger stroking your inner walls and palm pressed against your clit, you always want more. Can’t stop wanting him. 

“Want,” you mutter, the only word you can think of. You feel the smile pressed against your skin, the wetness slicking his fingers as he presses in a second, stretching you. Your hips can’t off the bed but he pushes you back down, making you whine. 

“Why should I?” 

“Cause.”

“Not a good enough answer.” 

Wonwoo starts to retract his hand and you scramble, digging your nails into his hip to claw him back toward you. “Cause I love you.” 

“Closer…” 

“Cause I want you.”

“So close.”

“Cause I need you.” 

He hums in thought. “Good enough. Help me take these fucking shorts off.” 

Wonwoo pulls his hand out of your shorts and leans upward. You rip your hands from his hoodie to slide your shorts off, peeling your underwear down as you do. He taps you on the thigh, fingers sticky from your arousal as he shifts higher. You know what he’s asking, scooting backward on the mattress to give yourself more real estate.

His mouth comes back down to yours, lips soft. You love kissing him, tongue tangling as you bring your hands up to slide your fingers through his hair. He makes an appreciative sound, one hand supporting his weight as he hovers over you while the other slots back between your legs to resume where he left off.

Unrestricted by your shorts, he’s able to thrust his fingers properly. Your gasps break his kisses, hips rolling to meet the stroke of his fingers. He’s always been skilled with his hands, able to peel you apart, pressing the pads of his fingers into that sweet spot over and over again. 

His thumb presses against your clit, adding stimulation as he moves it from side to side slowly, aided by the wetness gathered there. You let yourself get lost in him, pressure tightening in your stomach as you climb toward an orgasm. 

Your hands are everywhere - pulling at his hair, pulling at his shoulders, pulling at his arms. He lets you grip at him, lets you squirm beneath his ministrations, letting you have free reign. It’s a favor to you, in a way. He’s letting you get away with your earlier teasing, not drawing it out like he’s known to do, not making you beg.

Moans bracket the wet sound his fingers make in your cunt as he works you to the edge. Your breaths come out in short hisses behind clenched teeth and your thighs squeeze his hand. He’s unfettered, laughing roughly against your ear, breath hot.

“What would your chat say?” he asks. “Huh? What would they say if they knew you fell apart like this? That your cunt melts around my fingers.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, so close to your orgasm that your ears are starting to buzz. 

“All this time they thought we were frenemies. Have no idea I get to have you like this whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, you’re gonna.” His fingers press harder, the pressure mounting further. “Gonna come all over my fingers, yeah? Just like you always do?” 

You do. 

Everything comes together in one, cohesive snap. You arch into him, muscles squeezing, teeth clenched, eyes shut. It feels good when you unravel, coming around his fingers as they fuck you through it, determind to extend your high for as long as he can. 

Your breathing is ragged by the time you start to come down, shirt sticking to your skin and neck and face flushed as you try to escape him. He laughs a little, hand slowing until his fingers are still inside you, pressed deep. 

When you open your eyes, the room is spinning. It takes you a second to focus on him. His head is hanging, gaze focused where his fingers are still shoved in your pussy. You can see your arousal shining on his wrist and feel where you drip down the curve of your ass. 

“A lot of cum for someone with no rizz,” he notes, lifting his head to grin at you. 

“Oh shut up.” 

“Oh?”

He retracts his hand and you make a pitiful sound at the loss. He stands up, suddenly leaving you cold and shivering. He brings his fingers to his mouth absently, popping them between rosy lips as he sucks your fluid off easily, making an appreciative sound. 

“I mean if you want me to leave-”

“No, no! No need for that.” He smirks. “You’re already… here and stuff.”

“And stuff.” 

Rolling his eyes, he peels the hoodie up and over his head. You watch, suddenly entranced by the blue tint on his tan skin and the way his muscles flex when he leans to kick off his sweats. Wonwoo is beautiful, his body made up of equal parts streamlined edges and softness. 

Sleeper build, you’d joke the first time you saw him shirtless. On stream, he’s always hidden in baggy shirts and hoodies. You’d never realized he was hiding a body that was at peak athletic form, oversized clothing giving way to rippling arms and a hard chest. 

Naked, he shuffles back to the bed. You let him pull you out of your top, thankful for the warmth of his hands skating over your chilled skin. Your nipples tighten in the cool air, your toes curling at the sensation as you lay back on the bed and look up at him.

Haloed by blue light, Wonwoo looks like some sort of demon or angel. You’re not sure - perhaps he’s equal parts. His hands reach behind your thighs and lift, pressing your legs upward toward your chest. The stretch feels good but it also pries you open, making you writhe when you feel the weight of his cock on your pussy. 

“Hold yourself open for me,” he murmurs gently. Your hands reach behind the back of your knees, pulling. He gives you a lopsided grin, leaning over you to press his weight into the backs of your thighs, helping. “Stay just like that, fuck.” 

You do as he says. You have no other choice, especially when he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, sinking in slowly. You let out a loan moan shaped in his name as he presses in, the fit tight and the pressure delirious. 

Wonwoo bottoms out, holding himself to you, hips to ass for a second. He presses in all of his weight, the mattress creaking under you as he does. He drops his chin to his chest, curses as he takes a few deep breaths, chest heaving. 

You fuck him up too. You know it and you love it, watching as he looks up at you, eyes glazed over with lust, but still full of love. It simmers right at the surface, so obvious that you wonder how anyone could ever not see it when it’s right there.

Slowly, he starts to move. You suck in a breath, head falling to the side. Your fingers ache where you grip your thighs, knuckles shaking. A light sheen of sweat wicks your legs, making your hold slip a little. It’s okay, though. Wonwoo leans into you, keeping you pried open as his hips fuck into you at a steady pace. 

Each thrust feels like it punches the air from your lungs. You draw in deep breaths when you remember, otherwise distracted with the way he crowds you in, crushing you to the mattress. The feeling of him is insane, your thoughts cobwebbing together, the only word you can think of being his name. 

He pants, his arms scooping around your shoulders to pull you into him. A curse leaves your mouth. He’s got you folded in half, no escape from the drill of his hips, the air turning to static between you. Wonwoo is pressed close and you somehow wish you were closer, wanting to drop the grip on your thighs to hold him instead.

Wonwoo reads you like a book. “Go ahead,” he hisses between thrusts. 

“Thank you,” you gasp, dropping your legs in favor of sliding your hands through his sweaty hair, nails scratching his scalp. You feel him shiver and you do it again, pulling his face to you so that you can brush your mouth against his, barely a kiss. “Fuuuuuuck, Wonwoo I-”

“I know.” 

“Close close close.”

He doesn’t pick up his pace but he throws his weight into you more, fucking you deep and hard. You see stars, squeezing your eyes shut as you slide against one another, muscles aching, lungs screaming. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t care, skating the line of your second orgasm so close.

Your heart pounds in your ears. Your breath scrapes your throat. There is a moment of absolute nothing but white noise and then you’re crashing, slamming into your orgasm with enough force to knock your head with his when you lurch forward.

It doesn’t even hurt, the electric pleasure outweighing the knock to your head as his fingers dig into your shoulders, cradling you harder as he pistons faster, getting himself to peak. You go limp, held tilted back as he growls your name and loses a rhythm, breath hissing between his teeth. 

For a moment everything is disjointed until he slows to a stop, letting you unfold but pressing his body down onto yours. His weight is comforting, grounding you as your thoughts wander, a little confused and without navigation as your system reboots from the orgasm, tired and staticky. 

Wonwoo kisses your jaw lightly, a gentle contrast to seconds ago when he folded you in half. 

Slowly, he slides to the side, giving you room to breathe. Your body is slick all over - especially between your legs - and the room cools your overwarm skin. You crane your neck to face him, eyes fluttering open as you come back to, a little more lucid. 

His dark eyes find yours and he grins before tossing an arm over your waist just to keep you connected. You place your hand on his arm, returning the gesture, just wanting to touch him. 

“I think I died,” you joke, voice rough. “God.” 

“Yeah? Hey chat,” Wonwoo hums, a grin splitting his face. “How about that for rizz?” 

-

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[dumplinsiims]

Beach Babe Animations

It's officially summer timeeee! It's been MONTHS since I last opened blender to make an animation or pose 😖 but it felt sooooo good to come back and make something. I'm so proud of how these came out and I cannot wait to share these animations with you all and see how you use them!!

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Andrew's Pose Player (or WW poser)

Pose Alignment Interactions or Teleport Any Sim

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Note: Clipping very hard to avoid due to sim bodies/faces being different, and the clothing they wear. - Options for plus size sims are included in this pack.

Download here.

Early Access Download Until 6/12/25.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Can we talk about Harry having leadership thrust upon him in Deathly Hallows, please?

Like, I know he had a leadership role with the D.A. and with the Quidditch team to a lesser extent and he was always the leader of the Golden Trio, but I kinda want to talk about the flavor of leadership the wizarding population thrusts on him and how Harry is essentially the "promised king"/Jesus during DH. Like, there were 2 quotes specifically that really stood out to me, and I kinda wanted to talk about them even though I mentioned some of the points I bring up here before (if not in the same post in this way).

Like, I talked before about Harry's charisma and how others seem to see him, but there is something about the reverence he gets in DH, that makes me feel things.

I talked in the past about how Harry is the defacto leader of the Golden Trio when shit gets dangerous, and the D.A. treat him like the leader since fifth year:

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” said Hermione. “Harry’s leader,” said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad, and Harry’s stomach did yet another back flip. “Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” said Hermione, unperturbed. “It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?” Everybody put up their hands, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very halfheartedly. “Er — right, thanks,” said Harry, who could feel his face burning.

(OotP, Ch18)

But, the rest of the WW kinda treat him like that too, even when he's a young child. Even in book 1, Harry isn't really seen as a person; he is a saviour, a public figure, a beacon:

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. [...] Harry shook hands again and again — Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

(PS, Ch5)

His time, his body, his existence isn't seen as his own — it's everyone's. It's why the Prophet keeps writing about him like they do, it's why everyone feels comfortable to stare and whisper about him to his face. It's why no one (in the wider population/school) is really concerned when Harry faces danger (like the tournament) — because he's Harry Potter. He isn't just some child, he's The Boy Who Lived.

And Scrimgeour and the Death Eaters all understand the political threat he could pose, if he was inclined to it, ad the asset he could be:

“It would give everyone a lift to think you were more involved, Harry,” said Scrimgeour, sounding relieved that Harry had cottoned on so quickly. “ ‘The Chosen One,’ you know . . . It’s all about giving people hope, the feeling that exciting things are happening. . . .” “But if I keep running in and out of the Ministry,” said Harry, still endeavoring to keep his voice friendly, “won’t that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry’s up to?” “Well,” said Scrimgeour, frowning slightly, “well, yes, that’s partly why we’d like —” “No, I don’t think that’ll work,” said Harry pleasantly. [...] “I don’t want to be used,” said Harry.

(HBP, Ch16) - I love how smart Harry is here. He has that Slytherin cunning when he wants to. He sees right through Scrimgeour and plays him so well.

“That’s certainly part of it,” said Lupin, “and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you—the Boy Who Lived—were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hero’s death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you.

(DH, Ch11)

And Dumbledore purposely set him up for this position. Everything Dumbledore did, giving Harry the credit for his misadventures at school, putting him through fifth year in the public's eye only to come out as the Chosen One the ministry prosecuted unrightfully (because Dumbledore planned for that. He positioned Harry with him and set the stage for when he lores Voldemort to show himself). Harry was set up to be seen as a saviour to the Wizarding World. To be the symbol and Dumbledore's successor in the public eye.

The instructions Dumbledore left for the Order to follow before his death fit this goal too (Remus implies it at least). He sets Harry as his successor, whether Harry wanted it or not:

Lupin hesitated. “I’ll understand if you can’t confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission.”

(DH, Ch11)

“Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you’ve appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?” “I do,” said Lupin firmly. “There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. ’The Boy Who Lived’ remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting.” [...] “And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?” “I’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit,” said Lupin, then hesitated slightly, “And I’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.” Harry looked at Hermione, whose eyes were full of tears. “Nearly always right,” she repeated.

(DH, Ch22)

They back him up in spirit, they resist in small ways, but none of them is waging a war, not yet. Everyone, adults and teens, is waiting for Harry's order to start the real fight. They are waiting for Harry to lead them into battle. The Order is literally just focusing on hiding and keeping its members alive and hidden until Harry's orders:

“What are we going to do, then, Harry?” asked Seamus. “What’s the plan?” “Plan?” repeated Harry. He was exercising all his willpower to prevent himself succumbing again to Voldemort’s rage: His scar was still burning. “Well, there’s something we—Ron, Hermione, and I—need to do, and then we’ll get out of here.” Nobody was laughing or whooping anymore. Neville looked confused. “What d’you mean, ’get out of here’?” [...] “I sent for her,” said Neville, holding up the fake Galleon. “I promised her and Ginny that if you turned up I’d let them know. We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows.” [...] “We’re fighting aren’t we?” said Dean, taking out his fake Galleon. “The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight! I’ll have to get a wand, though—”

(DH, Ch29)

That's insane.

Like, all these people were readying for a fight, they were prepared for months. Neville led a whole underground resistance on his own, Kingsley led the Order in hiding and kept the idea of Harry alive, he goes on to become the next minister — but neither of them really does anything on their own. At least nothing big. They don't help the muggleborns in the Ministry, they can rally people, but not in their own right. Like with Hermione and the D.A., Kingsley and Neville are rallying people around Harry.

And all their preparations and machinations are just waiting for Haryr's word. Just waiting for the king to give his general (Neville) the word to rally the troops — because this is what happens at the end of DH.

I specifically want to talk about this quote:

The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years’ worth of magical graffiti, all said similar things. Good luck, Harry wherever you are. If you read this, Harry, we’re all behind you! Long live Harry Potter.

(DH, Ch17) - Quote number 1 that really stood out to me.

"Long live Harry Potter"

Like, this line stood out to me. This is a "long live the king" sort of line that's so on the nose. And I know as a Fandom we call Harry a war symbol, but I don't think we really talk about it. and how much Harry is aware of it, and somewhat accepts it, because he has no choice.

About how the WW truly hinges their salvation on this 17-year-old kid. How Harry just being alive is a sign of resistance.

How when he arrives at Hogwarts, everyone is convinced he's there to lead a battle. Adults look to him to tell them what to do:

“Time’s running out, Voldemort’s getting nearer. Professor, I’m acting on Dumbledore’s orders, I must find what he wanted me to find! But we’ve got to get the students out while I’m searching the castle—It’s me Voldemort wants, but he won’t care about killing a few more or less, not now—”’ not now he knows I’m attacking Horcruxes. Harry finished the sentence in his head. “You’re acting on Dumbledore’s orders?” she repeated with a look of dawning wonder. Then she drew herself up to her fullest height. “We shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while you search for this—this object.” “Is that possible?” “I think so,” said Professor McGonagall dryly, “we teachers are rather good at magic, you know. [...] “Harry, what’s happening?” said Lupin, meeting him at the foot of the stairs. [...] “They’re evacuating the younger kids and everyone’s meeting in the Great Hall to get organized,” Harry said. “We’re fighting.” There was a great roar and a surge toward the foot of the stairs, he was pressed back against the wall as they ran past him, the mingled members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore’s Army, and Harry’s old Quidditch team, all with their wands drawn, heading up into the main castle.

(DH, Ch30)

Everyone turns to Harry to tell them what's happening and what to do. McGonagall, Lupin, and everyone else who was called to the battle arrived because of Harry. They were ready to fight and die to end Voldemort, but they were only willing to take the risk because Harry told them they had a chance. Because they had faith in Harry.

If they believed they could do it without him, they wouldn't have waited. But they waited for Harry's order. He didn't even need to tell them anything beyond: get the innocents out and fight. He didn't force anyone to do anything; he didn't really order anyone — they are just willing to follow him to a crazy degree.

And Harry doesn't like it, but he knows how to lead people and stay calm under pressure; it's what he does because he never allows himself to show weakness. Harry is looked at by adults way more experienced than him because Dumbledore told them "Harry would know what to do". Harry was thrust into this position and is crumbling so badly but no one except Ron and Hermione see it... and even they don't see it all.

They try to help, and get him to get help from others:

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, who murmured, “I think Ron’s right. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, we need them.” And when Harry looked unconvinced, “You don’t have to do everything alone, Harry.” Harry thought fast, his scar still prickling, his head threatening to split again. Dumbledore had warned against telling anyone but Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes. Secrets and lies, that’s how we grew up, and Albus. . . he was a natural. . . Was he turning into Dumbledore, keeping his secrets clutched to his chest, afraid to trust? But Dumbledore had trusted Snape, and where had that led? To murder at the top of the highest tower. . .

(DH, Ch29)

The message is against Dumbledore's secrecy, that trusting and asking for help is good... But in the end, Harry is alone. He is much more similar to Dumbledore than he wants to be. He accepts the position Dumbledore set him up for. When he faces death, he leaves Neville with a mission, just like Dumbledore:

“No,” Harry lied easily. “’Course not . . . this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort’s name, Neville? He’s got a huge snake. . . . Calls it Nagini . . . ” [...] But he pulled himself together again; This was crucial, he must be like Dumbledore, keep a cool head, make sure there were backups, others to carry on. Dumbledore had died knowing that three people still knew about the Horcruxes; now Neville will take Harry’s place. There would still be three in the secret.

(DH, Ch34)

This above section kills me. Because it is exactly what Dumbledore did (except Dumbledore chose the position, Harry didn't). Harry, as much as he dislikes it, is a leader; he knows people, he understands he can't show weakness, and that there are things he has to do alone. He knows he needs contingencies, that he needs to lie... He is a leader when push comes to shove, always was.

What's insane to me is that Harry is this wise, and has this understanding of sacrifice at 17! Sure, Dumbledore understood all of these things too, was as politically savvy as Harry (well, a bit more), as charismatic and as good of a liar, but we (and the Wizarding World) saw him like that when he was over 100 years old! Even when he fought Gridnlewald, he was 64 (he was born in 1881). Harry is so young for all of this. When Dumbledore chose to die for the mission, he was 115, Harry was 17.

I just... Harry, man. He's so mature because he never got to be a childhood in the first place.

(I think, like Dumbledore, if Harry asked to be Minister (which he would never), the WW would say yes)

And, like Dumbledore, Harry is alone in his position. The position of a figurehead is a lonely place. You keep secrets, you lie, you can't show weakness. And even if Harry had Ron and Hermione (which Dumbledore didn't), who cared for him and knew him and his struggles, and loved him as just Harry, at the end of the day, he is alone. The Wizarding World looked to him. When they arrived at the RoR, everyone looked to Harry. They were happy to see Ron & Hermione, but it was Harry who carried their hopes.

And when he walks to face death, he does it alone:

The castle was empty. He felt ghostly striding through it alone, as if he had already died. The portrait people were still missing from their frames; the whole place was eerily still, as if all its remaining lifeblood were concentrated in the Great Hall where the dead and the mourners were crammed. [...] The Resurrection Stone slipped from between his numb fingers, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw his parents, Sirius, and Lupin vanish as he stepped forward into the firelight. At that moment he felt that nobody mattered but Voldemort. It was just the two of them.

(DH, Ch34)

And then, again when he faced Voldemort after he came back from the dead:

“I don’t want anyone else to try to help.” Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. “It’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.” [...] They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort’s.

(DH, Ch36)

Harry's strength of character kills me. I love him, and he didn't deserve any of it. Nor did he ask for it. But he felt it was his responsibility — his duty. Dumbledore taught him that he can only count on himself and Dumbledore's plan, and this is what Harry does, regardless of all his doubts about Dumbledore — because he doesn't have a choice.

The other scene in Deathly Hallows really hits home the Jesus/"long live Harry Potter" bit for me, is this one:

Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last—

(DH, Ch36) - Quote number 2 that really stood out to me.

I know he died and came back; there are plenty of religious allegories when it comes to Harry and his story, but I care more about the Wizarding World & Harry's reaction to it than the actual symbolism itself in this post.

Because this mirrors the first time Harry arrives at Diagon Alley. People flock to him (a saviour — not a person, the Boy Who Lived — not Harry), to try and touch him. Like just being in his proximity could be their salvation. Harry is someone who sacrificed everything (both unwillingly and willingly) for them — his childhood, his studies, his parents, his godfather, his happiness, his health, his life — but they don't see the sacrifice for the most part. They don't see Harry when he's tired or crying because Harry learned long before he arrived at Hogwarts to hide his pain, that no one cared if he cried.

I just love how empty "long live Harry Potter" is. He is their saviour, the promised king who would return to save them when they need him most. He is Jesus come back from the dead, he is King Arthur returned, he is the Boy Who Lived — he is everything except just Harry.

And Harry doesn't complain because when did that ever help him. He lets everyone try to reach out to him because he understands on some level (since he's 11) that he unfortunately isn't just his own. That he was never just Harry. (mentioned it a little here)

(One of the other things that bother me about the epilogue is that it ignores all of that. Like, I can't imagine the Wizarding World acting normal about Harry anytime soon after DH. They were never normal about Harry, and after he came back from the dead and defeated Voldemort again, you're telling me people would treat him like he's any other celebrity? Like, he is The Boy Who Lived Twice, and you're telling me people would be normal about that? After they practically worshipped this poor kid for a whole year, maybe more, depending on how you count?)

[simmireen]

I was honored to be able to collab with a few of my talented modco-collegues @dansimsfantasy @evilquinzel @simcredibledesigns to make some poses for the Fairy 'look of the day'. It's a great idea to combine everything together!

'Fairy'

6 single fairy poses ♥

DOWNLOAD (Modco) For the Wood Stump you need Outdoor Retreat (I added floor versions too so you can pose on any ledge) I recommend using T.O.O.L. mod or WW pose player to create the most beautiful pictures with these poses.

Find the clothing and make up I used in the pictures in part 1 here

♥~♥

Clipping sadly is inevitable due to sim bodies/faces being different, or the clothing they wear, but I try my best to fit most of them. Be free to tag me at tumblr, insta or X if you use my poses (@simmireen)

You can find an overview of all my posepacks at Pinterest

Want to commission me? > Ko-Fi page

Terms of use

Don’t claim as yours or put behind a paywall Don’t re-edit (adjusting hands is always allowed, just don’t change up my pose) Don’t reupload anywhere Please let me know if something doesn’t work!

@sssvitlanz @ts4-poses @onemodco

[kusin-tisdag]

How to take screenshots and edit (when it's just not your thing)

Alright-y!

So, I have over the years learned how to use reshade and to edit my pictures. I am really not a natural on these things, so this is very much to help others who are as aesthetically challenged as I am. I have to have certain "rules" to follow, because I can rarely just see if a picture will turn out well or not.

We all need to realize where I started. We're talking using FRAPS to take screenshots and then running holy colours batman! to get some sort of effect.

Now, I'm not one to buy fancy stuff and to pirate certain programs isn't really my thing either. So we mend and make do!

Also, I am by far very good at taking screenshots and edit, but I have learned things and hope that it might be useful for someone!

A word on light

One thing I've learned is to work with is light. Where the light is is where the focus will go. This doesn't mean that a person has to be in the spotlight, but if they aren't - try to make that a more conscious choice. I am no pro at this, but I have to say that some of my favorite screenshots are where the light is just good. It focuses the eye or it just give a vibe.

(and yes, for some reason all of my faves are of Agnes, which is a bit annoying since Amanda is my fav-character, lol)

This is also where reLight comes in handy. Yes, it's behind a paywall but there are ways that you will have to figure out yourself.

Great tutorial here on reLight by @pictureamoebae! (if you want to really understand reshade, do check out their tumblr. So many helpful tips and tricks!)

Posing

Posing is fun! I don't fully story-tell with my sims, most of it is gameplay. But I do like to pose for family pictures or to enhance something that is going on.

What you need is Andrew's Pose Player and Teleport Any Sim or Wicked Whims.

Now, I haven't figured out how to use WW for children and younger to pose, so I use both. And I like @ts4-poses to find poses. Eventually, you'll find your favorite creators and can follow them directly.

Angles and vibes

Here's a trick. Work with angles. I am a master of pictures with zero vibe, just a face. Those can be ok, and sometimes that's what you have - but try to angle your shot a little.

Or add clutter, focus on that and let something out of focus happen in the background.

Or just go higher, take the screenshot from above.

Or don't focus on your sim at all, focus on something else that adds to the story/post.

Take the screenshot

The light is good, the angle great, the poses are in place and now, we need to take the actual screenshots.

I am a huge fan of reshade, I use version 4.9.1 because that works for me and the presets I use. No need to update reshade unless it becomes too old.

It can be really difficult to to find a preset that you like. I mostly use birdie by @monasims, tawhay by @windslar and paperbacks by @literalite. But I have tried many.

I like this youtube-tutorial on how to make your own preset, which also helps if you wish to modify one that you've downloaded. I do always recommend learning how to use ADOF and CinematicDOF to help focus the image on what you want to capture. I also strongly recommend @pictureamoebae's Foundation.

To take pictures, use the tab-key to leave the UI behind and use Q and E to go down/up in your game and then the mouse to angle. I use print-screen to take my screenshot, but that's something you set up when installing reshade so that's different for everyone.

And now you have your screenshot and it's time to open an editing program. Cheap as I am, I open GIMP.

Let's edit!

I don't use many steps. Since I can't use fancy photoshop actions I have to make all the steps by myself and well - I am human and therefor lazy.

Resize and start to think of a post

First things first. I cut my pictures to work for the tumblr ratio. I actually don't resize them smaller anymore - because when I change layout on my tumblr I just feel as if it messes it up. Now, I don't have a huge screen and my screenshots aren't massive, so it's not necessary either.

My images will be 1017x1017, 1525 x 1017 or 678 x 1017.

Once this is done, I also try to look at how they will go together. If I want a post of just squares I need to have an even number of images. Sometimes I want a landscape image as a sort of heading, or one in the middle with squares around it. It depends on what I want to convey.

This is by no means something that comes natural to me - I am aesthetically challenged after all. Sometimes, I just have 5 images and have to make do.

Resized

Topaz Clean

Yup, it's awesome. No, it doesn't come with GIMP. Yes, there are ways to work around this. You will have to find those ways on your own.

But I have to say, it does makes wonder for the images. I have completely stolen @sojutrait 's settings because I really like her style and therefor - I copy. I have added a bit more sharpening, but otherwise it's completely hers.

Topaz Clean:ed

Curves

Curves my beloved! I use curves for two things! Take out the yellow (aka increase the blue) and to brighten/darken the image!

I do sometimes matte the image too and here's a good tutorial for GIMP users on how to use curves in GIMP (for a matte look)

Less yellow/more blue

Brighten the brights (but I did not brighten the darker parts)

Layers, curves and increase the light where needed

Now, remember that we need light? Sometimes, a screenshot just doesn't have the right light. So I duplicate the layer, use the free marking tool around what I wish was brighter and put that on a new layer.

Then I use curves to lighten the layer with what I want to brighten and to make darker the layer with what I want to put less focus on (here's an ok youtube video on the subject).

Below, you can see the effect on my images.

Sharpen

Pretty basic. I subtly sharpen the image again. Even if I use the sharpening in topaz clean I do like to add an extra touch before it's time to save and move on.

So sharp!

PSD and UI

I do like to use psd's now and then. I mainly use @windslar's psd-collections and @deathbypufferfish's Build-a-Sim Icon Pack.

It's mostly to help give some info about the post or when my sims age up and I want to show their traits.

I do use the UI-info sometimes. If I do, I go into Game Options in the game > Accessibility > UI-scale and just drag that up a bit. Then I copy/paste that part onto the image I'm using.

Done!

That's pretty much it. Thing is, to post good edits you have to actually take good screenshots. As annoying as it is, it's like cooking: it all comes down to the ingredients. I hate cooking Yes, editing does help but I think my main journey has been to learn to take better screenshots from the start.

The picture below is from resized to done.

Hope this might help someone! I will probably learn more and more as I continue to post, but this is where I am so far in my journey!

[wonwoonlight]

[05.03]

A/n: it's been a... day for me (and it's not really bc of ww's announcement either) so this piece is a part of my comfort to myself. Hope it brings comfort to you who may need it.

542 words // wonwoo x reader // he just wants to comfort her bc shes having... well, a day.

When it comes to relationships, Wonwoo still has a lot to learn.

He used to be a little too insensitive; not able to read subtle cues and not sure how to comfort someone when they're not in the best mood. It takes quite some time for him to learn the ropes of what to do when you're upset according to why and which level your upsetness is on.

He has learned how to force words out of you–because he also has learned that sometimes he has to force his way to break your walls or he'll lose you to your thoughts.

He has learned how to embrace you just right so you don't feel uncomfortable when his arm goes around your waists or your neck or your hips to pull you closer.

He has learned what makes you blush, what makes you frown, what makes you annoyed, and what makes you pretend to be annoyed even though you're really giddy deep down inside.

What he hasn't learned though, is how to make you see just how much of him you hold between your fingers. How he would do anything and everything under your command. That he one time dreamt of you leaving him and he actually woke up to a cold sweat because it scares him that much.

That he can feel his heart squeezing painfully when you shut down for whatever reason.

He also hasn't learned what would work when you suddenly burst out crying and doesn't seem like you want to talk about it.

“Can I go get you water?” Wonwoo asks softly, his neck wet with your tears. He frowns at that. He can't remember the last time you cried this much.

You shake your head and hold on tighter. There's no space between your body, as if you're seeking for all the warmth he can offer. All the comfort that is his existence.

He exhales your name gently, presses his lips against your hair in hope it helps you somehow.

“I'm sorry, I don't…” you begin to say, your voice muffled against the material of his shirt. “I don't even know what I'm feeling. Not sure why I'm crying.”

To others, it might sound stupid–perhaps a tad bit dramatic. But Wonwoo knows you. He might be dense sometimes. But Wonwoo knows you and he knows this happens sometimes.

He doesn't know that you feel bad about it though.

“Why would you be sorry about how you feel?” He drops his head on top of yours, his hand caressing your hair. “Feelings are never easy to explain.”

“Still…” you sniffle, words failing you once again as fresh tears fall against your cheeks. “I'm crying so much and–”

“Sssh. None of that.” Wonwoo tightens his arms around you, as if to remind you that he's there. Like the fact that you're on his lap doesn't do that already. “You're overwhelmed and that's okay. I don't need your explanation. Just… tell me what I can do to help?”

Wonwoo still has a lot to learn when it comes to relationships. But he doesn't hesitate to ask when it comes to you; what makes you happy and comfortable.

Comforted.

Content.

“Just need you here with me.”

“You always have me with you.”

[artbyblastweave]

Did you ever read WW historia?

I have now!

In terms of pure visuals, easily the prettiest thing I've read this year (in the February-to-February sense of the term, I'm not pulling a 30-rock cutesy non-statement here.) It definitely feels constructed as a negotiation with some of the tensions I've been waving at, but it's a deft one- handily resolving the overarching "what's the exact nature of the project here" energy through its aggressive commitment to a specific direction- an epic in the idiom of the Illiad or the Oddessy- it's status as the narrative of the founding of a nation, with enumerated mythological lineages for the Amazons, godly politics-of-personality jerking around the protagonists even at their best-intentioned, slaughters predicated on myopic cries for "justice" that are couched in a fundamentally misogynistic moral ordering of the universe (Getting Oresteia flashbacks with Apollo.) Zeus is a particularly compelling villain in the piece, with that cheerful, condescending, paternalistic adherence to a bronze age morality that's not nearly as alien to the present day as one might like it to be. From within his own moral system, he does nothing wrong, which is as good a condemnation of that system as any.

What I really like about it is how it in particular addresses the longstanding tension- not unique to Wonder Woman as a franchise, but always present to some extent- of an impossibly-advanced sequestered utopia trying to provide guidance to a population under so many more material constraints than them that they might as well be space aliens. The book expresses that there's a level on which the initial group of 30 goddess-crafted Amazons- the divine, born-as-adult utopian agents- can look like women, intervene on the behalf of, fundamentally align with women, but, before they meet Hippolyta, there are important ways in which they only fleetingly interact with women as a human social category. They strike from the shadows, kill some oppressors, and fuck right back off- which is cathartic, but none of the mortal women they "rescue" are left in a significantly better position by this alone. That's not an arbitrary strategy; In suitable Greek tragedy fashion, everyone in this narrative is beholden to something, and the original Amazons are beholden to the system in the sense that they have to hide what they're doing so they don't get turbofucked by Zeus and company. But they are very pointedly not beholden in the sense of having to make soul-destroying choices as a result of the gendered boot that they're under. They don't have to, say, live with the guilt of being made to leave an extraneous newborn girl to die of exposure.

Moreover, even in isolation, even with a headcount of 30, the book gestures at the idea that the first wave of Amazons are developing their own systems of norms, orderings of power and hierarchy, valorization of specific traits and rigid systems of categorization based on aligning with different goddesses:

Hippolyta bounces off these requests for categorization hard even as she petitions to join- she sees value in the category, but not the expectations. What DeConnick has done here is engineer a situation where the Amazonian founding narrative is a story about how the identity category of "Amazon" was forcibly expanded until it could accommodate everyone to whom it would be useful- do the work it was intended to do as a positive force in the world. Strict ontology subordinated to questions of practical harm. I think the intended applicability to other issues is obvious.

This brings me to the tail end of the narrative, another of many things I like- As I mentioned before, this whole thing is constructed as a national founding myth, right? The Aeneid, but for Themyscira. But it's not a triumphant story. It's not a tale of glorious conquest, it's not a narrative about how the Amazons turned their backs on a fallen world and carved out their utopian little enclave. They don't live on Themyscira because they're nationalists, or female separatists, or whatever other dunk Azzarello wants to advance. They live on Themyscira because they aren't allowed to leave. Themyscira is an act of suppression. Partly a "cruel mercy" punishment from Zeus and company, loss of freedom constructed as worse than death for the Amazons; implicitly, also a containment tactic, to keep their ideas from spreading.

Much of this was engineered through the machinations of Hera, who presents this National-founding-as-tragedy as the best that could be done under the existing constraints; a setback, a compromise, a launch pad for future endeavors, but still a meaningful defeat, something that Diana, the first and only child actually born on the island, is going to have to work to rectify.

[ts4-poses]

NEWS IMPORTANT I'm back! But there is a huge backlog waiting for me! So please be patient <3 Are you tired of understanding T.O.O.L. mod for your poses and don't want to use the move/rotate function on WW poseplayer? There is an easier way to move/rotate your posed sims! Try the mod 'Pose Alignment Interactions' here

Tip from me: There is a huge increase of boosty-links these days, but since you have to make an account to download and this website still has some trust issues, I would advice you to NOT make an account with your main e-mail you use for everything. Make a sims-cc-e-mail for example, since you have to make an account almost everywhere these days! Be safe on the internet lovelies! I don't share early access poses until the early period is over! (don't paywall your holiday poses until after the holiday!!)

KNOWN POSEBUGS Eyelids Eyelids are still not fixed by EA after the Lovestruck patch, so it could be that eyes are not entirely closed in many poses due to this EA bug.

PLEASE UPVOTE THIS TOPIC Thank you for the immense response! Child/toddler/infant height presets Child/toddler/infant height presets for poses are sadly, after the Business and Hobbies update, broken. Topic to upvote HERE (@/electricwhims found a workaround for their newborn infant preset, so this works for poses again! Make sure to download the updated preset again!)

New here as a pose creator? Please tag the page (a good @ts4-poses tag in your post will work if you are not shadowbanned, hashtags don’t always work but I follow several tags), or submit your posepack through the submit form. I don’t always have time to always check all the pose creators who are not tagging, so please make it easier for me doing so! Am I not reblogging your posepacks? Make sure you don’t copy tags from earlier posts, but type them in every new blogpost! If you do that and still are not being reblogged, you are probably shadowbanned and are not popping up in my notifications. (Send a message to tumblr support!)

Rules for reblogging I don’t reblog permanent paywalled poses, blender only poses or posepacks with months of early access. If you have a normal early access policy (due to EA their rules) I will reblog your posepack after the early access period is over. Because if you wanna find that perfect pose to use for your story/post/edit you want to use it right away, right?

Make sure you put your downloadlink above any cut

I have everything backed up from 2024 on, so if anything is lost from that time, please let me know. I will upload it in the Lost Poses section. Please let me know too if a link or post is dead. (You can due through message or the submit form!) I sadly can’t reply every ask for certain poses you are looking for, since I’m doing this on my own and we have over 24k posepacks here! <3

Links that are helpful!

Everything posing you should know

The pose creator discord

Lost poses section (if you have anything from these creators that is not uploaded here yet? Please send me it!)

How to use poses?

Deco sims tag!

[clockwayswrites]

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!