#my space gets cluttered there's stuff on the floors

[queerstudiesnatural]

sometimes watching tv is good :) i've been watching home decor and home organising shows for the past couple of weeks, and today is my very first day of summer holiday (perks of being a teacher) and i immediately started reorganising and cleaning up my home

[orcelito]

Happier plant window

Hopefully a small plant knockover won't be as disastrous as a large plant knockover

[cesium-sheep]

finally finished my fucking desk. everything is organized, accessible, and in its place (altho the csm body has to live on the floor unless I want to break it down).

I don’t have a lot of room for Extra Stuff unless I go through a more ruthless goodwill purge than I already did pre-move (except for stuffed animals - it’s a full instead of a twin so I actually have substantial room for New Friends) so there may be reorganization later, but for now.

[star-anise]

This is what the fight is like

Sooo, apparently the extremely tenuous and recent nature of the LGBTQ+ community's legal right to exist was not actually super widely known to a lot of people on Tumblr?

Which clarifies some stuff in retrospect. I have so often wanted to grab people by their lapels and shout, "Stop picking on someone for not meeting your entry requirements! We need everyone we can get, you asshole! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY HATE US OUT THERE?"

Aaaapparently... no, they did not know. Or they knew and were a conservative psyop preparing the ground for our loss of legal rights. Fun times!

So: Look, it is bad. Shit is scary. They really do hate us out there. You're not wrong.

But: This is what we've always fought. This boat we're in with its antique fittings and strange markings on the floor is a battleship. Work has always been going on in the basements, and when shit gets tough, we clear away clutter and roll out the cannons.

I found this chart a couple weeks ago and hung onto it because it felt like the map to my first 25 years on this earth:

[Image description: A graph titled "Same Sex Marriage: Public Polls since 1988." It is from FiveThirtyEight's NYT column. It records the percentage of US Americans polled who would say yes or no to legalizing same-sex marriage, from 1988 to 2011.

The two lines begin with roughly 10% saying yes in 1988, and 70% saying no; the two lines gradually draw closer over the years, until by 2011, the percent saying finally dips under 50%, and the group saying yes makes a tentative reach for the majority. End of image description.]

After some great social change has happened, when everyone has admitted that gay marriage is very cute and Pride is a colourful parade, hooray, people like to pretend that it was just natural and inevitable and happened on its own. People just became less prejudiced! Courts just decided on a case! Governments just passed a law!

In reality, it was a vicious fucking fight, every fucking time. Every fucking where. There are a lot of people who deeply, sincerely believe that a hundred years ago, society had good rules about sex and gender and intercourse and marriage, and that changing those rules has made the world worse. They don't always agree on the specifics, but they can work together far enough to fight anyone with new ideas.

This is why we are a community. Even when we don't have the same experiences of attraction or identity, even when we don't do the same things, even when we have wildly different ideas of a good time. Because when these groups take aim, we're all under fire, and none of us is responsible for why they hate us.

In some ways I think it's a miracle that there seems to be a generation that did not grow up, as I grew up, constantly glued to news reports about What Percentage of Society Hates Us this month. I can't imagine who I'd be if my brain and heart and soul hadn't been tied up, that whole time, in the political question of whether I'd get to dream of a decent future.

I think that it will give us strength to have people who can imagine a world where no one hates us. Who believe in it so strongly they can taste it. That's my prediction: If you didn't know this was coming, you'll be a boon to us, because we have always needed joy so fiercely, in this fight, to keep us going on. We have needed drag queens and punk bands and "her wife" and safe space stickers. Parade floats and wedding days and little dogs with rainbow collars, badges and banners and meetups, because more than anything else we need to fight our own despair, and our fear that the world will never get any better than this.

It will. We know it will. We can taste it.

Look up to the history, organizations, and people who've got us this far for information on what forms of activism will actually advance our political goals. Look to the side to make sure the comrades within reach are keeping their heads above water, and that you're keeping enough joy going to stay alive. Look back to see who's more vulnerable than you are that you might have forgotten or been tempted to leave behind. Look after each other. Look after yourself.

We can do this.

To your battle stations.

[ambermotta]

Cleansing Basics – Crash Course

What is cleansing? When should I do it? How do I do it?

These are some of the questions I'll be tackling today. I hope this post will be useful to those who are not quite familiar with how to cleanse and why it's important for any witch or pagan practice!

---------------------------------------------------

Long post based on my experience and research. Meant to be informative. I don't claim to know the absolute truth.

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What is cleansing?

Cleansing is clearing away energy from someone, something or somewhere.

When should I cleanse?

Whenever you need to clear away energy.

Personal opinion: you should cleanse yourself and your house at least weekly.

It is generally recommended that you periodically cleanse magical items and cleanse before and after any type of magical/ spiritual work. Cleansing before contacting deities (even if it's just prayer) is also considered "standard protocol" in some cultures, like in Hellenic paganism and Shintoism.

From my personal experience I do feel I can connect better with spiritual beings when I cleanse beforehand, but I believe my emotional state has a bigger influence on the matter. Cleansing generally calms me down too so –

Why should I cleanse?

The number one reason you'll see cleansing everywhere is because it is a way to help get rid of excess negative energy.

I'm not going to say you can clear away all of it because as living humans, we are constantly emanating energy and a lot of times it is "negative" energy. Which is okay, it's part of being alive. Plus, there are other factors that come into play.

However, cleansing often can help you stay in touch with spirituality and ease your mind since you'll be getting rid of excess (and oftentimes unwated) energy.

Cleansing also comes into play when you want to clear away any other kind of energy, for example, when you get a new magical tool (such as a tarot deck) or finish a magical working. You don't necessarily want the energy that was on that object or that spell sticking to you all day, you know?

How to prepare for cleansing?

First of all, gather your stuff. Gather everything you need and try to avoid interruptions.

I personally recommend you always do a physical cleaning up of whatever you are going to cleanse. Tidy up your house, take a shower, and clean your magical items (if possible).

Dirt and clutter feel bad, and it can distract the mind. Starting your cleansing in the physical plane can definitely make it more powerful in the astral too.

How do I cleanse?

Most cultures/religions/spiritual practices have their own way of doing things (ex: hellenic pagans have khernips), so first of all, do your research! And respect the fact that some things are out of your reach.

There are A LOT of techniques you can use to cleanse that are not particularly tied to a single culture and that can be done in many different ways. I'll quickly go through some of them, but it is by no means an extensive list.

Cleansing with the 4 elements:

Earth: I've mainly seen this in two ways, which are sending energy to the earth (something like grounding) and burrying objects.

Fire: commonly used together with air in smoke cleansing. There's also energy work that pulls energy and sends it towards the fire for cleansing (either a candle, a bonfire, or a visualization flame)

Water: mostly used for cleansing yourself or objects. It can be through herb baths and showers, rain/sea/river water, salt water, or sacred waters. For cleansing spaces, there are things such as water spray bottles and floor washes (though I've only seen this one being used in hoodoo). Careful with objects, some may not be resistant to water.

Air: generally the most common for cleansing spaces or people. Usually achieved by lighting up incense or herbs with cleansing properties and using the smoke to cleanse.

Sidenote: burning a herbs ≠ from smudging. Smudging is a native american practice that is closed to their people. Don't smudge, don't call some herb-burning smudging. It's not the same thing. Stick with what's appropriate for your culture.

Sun and moon: using sunlight or moonlight to cleanse (and often charge) yourself or objects. Always make sure what you are cleansing can actually be left in the sun and handle weather.

Crystals: Some crystals have cleansing properties, usually back ones (onyx, obsidian, black tourmaline), smoky quartz, and selenite, to name a few. Keep in mind that they usually need to be cleansed periodically, too.

Sound: Praying, chanting, singing, music, and using bells or drums are some ways you can use sound to cleanse.

Visualization: There are many techniques used for cleansing this way. While it can be effective, it is definitely not for everyone as a lot of people will find that using tools is easier and more consistent. Visualization requires some practice and a lot of focus.

What to do after cleansing?

That depends on your objective.

If you are cleansing a space, such as your home, and you want to keep it "clean" for longer, you can cast a protection spell.

If you are cleansing yourself or an object, you may want to do a Charging of some sort. When you cleanse, you are getting something out, which opens up space for the new, so you can use this as an opportunity to "fill in" with another type of energy.

Conclusion

Cleansing is very versatile and unique to each practice. There are a lot of things you can do that are fairly neutral, but in general, cleansing always has the same purpose and is done in a similar fashion.

Knowing what your tradition (if you have one) usually does to cleanse objects, people, and places can be very enriching, so do your research!

Thank you for reading!

[weaselle]

@ffoxer howdy! happy to oblige :)

i used to have a dresser and a bunch of hangers in my closet and like, closet organizer thingamabobs, but instead of using any of that stuff my clothes were always in several piles around my room.

And i felt shitty about it all the time but couldn't seem to make myself the kind of person who kept their clothes folded and organized. My room was constantly cluttered with clothes like drifts of snow scattered and piled here and there. Like, i felt really REALLY shitty about that. Deep shame

any ADHDers and spoonies out there relate?

SO one day, i said to myself, what if i'm okay the way i am? What if i just need to refine how i already do things a little bit instead of insisting on reinventing my entire identity?

Did i really care about being the kind of person who's socks were rolled just so, and whose shirts were all folded perfectly and arranged by color or whatever?

no

What i did care about was not living in a cluttered, messy, unorganized, embarrassing space.

And it turns out my piles WERE an organization system. What's more, my piles were a system that had been shaped by the way i actually use my clothes, it was a system that made sense for how i live my life. And i bet it's the same for most of you who relate to what i've been saying so far.

There were the clothes that were dirty, the clothes that had been worn but could be worn again, and the clean clothes (often dumped from the washer to the bed with the intent of folding and putting away, then slept next to when that didn't happen, and finally transferred to the floor next to my bed or piled in my closet once i gave up)

These three piles (dirty, clean, wear again) made up my "i wear this stuff all the time" wardrobe, and then everything else was still in the dresser i never actually used, with a few remaining almost-never-worns hanging in the closet.

This made my dresser, essentially, just a bin of clothes i could label "rarely wear"

And the thing i hated about my piles was that they looked messy, and took up too much space, and cluttered my room, and anyone who came into my room instantly assumed i was a disaster of a human because that's what it looked like. And, honestly, that's what it felt like too.

But i could change all of that and still have piles if i just... put my piles in bins! Then they would clearly be on purpose. And contained. And on purpose contained piles aren't a mess! They're a tidy organizational system.

So i got rid of my dresser and most of my hangers and i bought four of those plastic bins with the lids that you can get anywhere from hardware stores to target. Now, if you want to inhabit a fancier lifestyle, you can get nicer bins, they make all kinds, from canvas to wicker to polished wood or whatever suits your style and budget, I'm currently using the plastic ones, but when i move i'm planning on getting something more like this

the point is, these bins contain my piles without me having to change the piles at all.

now instead of having to sort all that stuff into different drawers i just have 4 simple bins

1: clean clothes

2: dirty clothes

3: stuff i might wear a second (or third) time

4: clothes i almost never wear

remember how those first three piles make up my "wear all the time" stuff? Well, each of the first two bins are big enough to contain all those clothes (which for me is about two loads of laundry).

I have a smaller bin for clothes i've worn but could wear again. And the last one, almost-never-wear, is actually the biggest one. And naturally a couple almost-never-wear things still get hung in the closet.

So when my "wear all the time" bin is empty, that means the dirty bin is about full, and i just add the might-wear-again stuff to it and carry that bin to the washer. When it comes out of the dryer, i still follow my natural instincts to dump them in a pile and forget about them, it's just now i dump that pile into the clean bin, where they belong.

And when i'm digging for something in the bin and can't find it, just like when i would dig in my closet, i can just dump it all out on my bed to find things like i used to, but then it goes back in the bin with a sweep of the arm.

The clothes naturally sort themselves out this way, too. Say every time you go to do your laundry because you "have nothing to wear" there are the same few items left in the bottom of your clean bin. Well those are clearly part of your almost-never-wears and you can dump them in that bin before you wash your laundry. When the weather gets cold, i put most of my shorts and tank-tops in the almost-never-wear bin. I make room for them by taking out my everyday winter wear to go in the clean bin.

I can put the bins where it makes the most sense for how i use my room naturally. For instance, my sweatshirts and jeans i might wear again always used to wind up draped over the back of my desk chair, so now i put my could-wear-again bin right by my desk. If I want my room to be extra tidy, i just stack all the bins in the closet where the dresser used to be, which takes like twenty seconds.

and the BEST part is, because my bins are just the piles i was naturally already creating, my clothes stay in their bins, which is inarguably a system of organization, and my room is actually clean and orderly, no messy clothes piles in sight!

i did a similar thing with my paper piles and now there's very little clutter and i don't feel like a failure of a person about my room the way i used to!

I have accomplished Clean Organized Room without having to change who i am or how i live! 10/10 highly recommend

[the-cooler-newton]

Unpacking is very cute and I admire the type of narrative it's able to pull off just through the gameplay of moving into spaces. the intimacy of everyday objects, still life, environmental storytelling, etc etc etc

But i have Got to talk about 2010. Unpacking is a game where all you do is take stuff out of boxes and find spaces for it, and for the most part it gives you quite a lot of freedom about where you can put stuff. There are some rules - most things cant go on the floor, stuff generally has to be in the right room, the soap has to be near the sink, etc etc, but apart from that there's no wrong place to put things.

Moving into this fucking guy's house in 2010 felt like putting everything in the wrong place. It felt like I wasn't supposed to be there, a square peg into a round hole. His entire house is pristine when I get there, everything organised perfectly, evenly spaced, colour-matched, sterile. Throughout the level I'm shoving everything around on his bookcase to fit my hoard of knickknacks, putting my red plastic colander in the cupboard above his cool green matching set of plates and bowls, my bright purple toothbrush cup, hairbrush, and straightening iron clutter his pristine bathroom counter. My family of stuffed chickens is made to look silly next to his fancy mixology set and miniature sand garden.

I end up putting my laptop and drawing tablet out on the kitchen island because there isn't a desk anywhere I can use. My markers and hoard of sketchbooks are crammed into my bedside table. I'm not allowed to move his posters in the living room, so my university certificate goes under the bed.

I won't pretend that I, playing Unpacking in 2023, didn't know how the game ended. I knew already that the protagonist would move on from this guy, but even if I didn't, I would have been able to tell. It was not fun moving into his house, it was not easy or charming to meld our lives together, I did not feel welcome there. Moving in with him felt like a transgression, an imposition. Moving in with him felt like a wrong decision in a game where I couldn't really make wrong decisions.

An incredible magic trick of game design, in my opinion.

[myheadhurtscutely]

STAR STATIONARY - Modern!Anakin x Reader

(!teaser!)

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` You start your new job as a receptionist today, and it seems like you're already making friends. A blonde boy in particular. How sweet. this is a teaser for the star stationary series in the works, I wanted to get something out for you guys, feedback is welcome :) enjoy!

!Warnings! None atm, Angst to come, and fluff tho

wc ` 585

notes ! this is inspired by characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office.

Ding! The elevator finally chimed, indicating your arrival at your new employer. 'Finally!' You thought to yourself, arms crowded with your personal belongings, readily available to decorate your new desk. You were the only person who applied for the boring office job as a receptionist. It was average pay, at a failing company so you figured, it would be okay just for a while. Much to your dismay, as the elevator doors slid open, it revealed the cheap cafe a couple floors below the office. A young man stood outside of the double doors. Tall, dirty blonde, glasses, and absolutely beautiful. If your arms weren't shaking earlier, they definitely were now, along with your knees.

He shyly scooted into the elevator, as if it was full, leaving about an inch or two of space between the both of you. The elevator ride was near silent. Small shuffles and the faint drumming of whatever song was blaring in his headphones was the only white noise to accompany the deafening silence. You peered over at him a couple times through your peripherals, and at some point, you swore you saw him take a glance at you too.

The elevator was coming to a stop, the poor old thing jerked as it completed its job, causing you to stumble out of your carefully modified stance to accommodate the weight in your arms, and drop several nicknacks and papers. How embarrassing. Thankfully, the blonde boy dropped to his knee to retrieve your items, as you profusely apologized for causing a mess. The elevator doors pry open with a screech revealing the carpeted floors and yellow tinted cream walls of the office space. He picks up one last decoration from your collection and holds it up in front of his blue eyes, inspecting with a slight smirk.

"You like Star Wars?" He cocked his eyebrow, meeting your eyes, as the both of you step out of the elevator before it closes. The office was lit with a white light, flickering ever so slightly overhead. Fake potted plants stood at entrances. Desk cluttered on top and around each nook and cranny.

"Um," You hesitate. Was it stupid to be into that kind of thing nowadays? "Yeah. It's one of my favorites." you say hurriedly. He dangles the Yoda charm a moment longer before placing it in an empty coffee mug you were holding onto for dear life with your pinky.

"Me too." He flashes a quick smile and asks if you need help, which you decline. He carries on, walking to a door near the backside of the space. You set your stuff down with a thud on your new desk. A bigger than usual semi-circle, right near the entrance, with accompanying desk to the right of it. You pull out your pens, highlighters, notepads, stickers, everything you brought to personalize your space. Taking your time, even color coding the order of your pens, you wait. What was there to do? What was your task. The phone rang. You look around in a panic, what do you say? Almost as if heaven had sent an angel your way, the blonde guy from earlier returns with a mug in hand. A Star Wars logo branded the front of it. Cute.

He sees your distress and you nod towards him. He makes his way over to you, leaning over your shoulder to grab the telephone. "Hello. Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is Anakin. How can I help you today?"

Notes ` OMG OMG OMG OMG YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I AM FOR THIS, but anyway I know this is super short but there's just so much in my brain rn, actual brain rot its crazy. The first chapter is going well, its wc is 2k as of right now, i plan to top it off around 10k or so. we'll see. The support has been amazing I love you! <3

tags ` @darthgloris

[infamous-if]

I’m curious what the RO’s homes/bedrooms look like because I think it can tell a whole lot about someone 🤔

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED. I was actually ruminating over what Sev's room/apartment, in particular, would look like the other day.

Seven's room is very dark to me. Black walls, a lot of band posters plastered everywhere. It's a mess but an organized mess. Very much what a music enthusiast's room would look like in a 2000s teen movie lol. They've never grown out of the 'fanboy/fangirl' phase so they'd just have posters all over, they have a dresser of vintage records on one side and a mirror full of photo booth pictures and photos of their life tacked to it. Their bed is never made, mostly because Seven is always in bed when they're home. Seven has clothes strewn just about everywhere but they claim to know where everything is. A lot of ripped-out pages of scrapped out song lyrics on the floor. My imagination of Seven's songwriting process is a lot of pacing, a lot of humming. They get their best ideas while doing other stuff like cleaning and cooking. Outside of their room, their apartment is also messy with a lot of novels strewn about. Seven is very sentimental so every gift they've ever gotten is on display. Their bathroom is clean but messy; just a lot of hair products and makeup everywhere. Seven's "I just rolled out of bed" look is a stylistic choice lmao

I can imagine Sev being a very annoying neighbor to have since they always have music on and they're always singing. Seven has never actually cleaned their place quickly because of all the times they stop to have a mini concert in their living room. Seven is fun when they're alone lol

Orion's is expectantly clean and very minimalist. His room is barren, a plain black bed with a metal headboard. He always has incense burning and has an air purifier and a lot of tech. Everything is spotless and there's not anything out of place. Orion's place is a lot of dark furniture, a lot of leather, and a lot of gray and white in terms of looks. He has a large glass balcony that he likes to do work on in the mornings. I imagine him to have a large closet with all just suits on one side and just...straight up black clothes on the other. Orion isn't one to wear anything colorful. His neighbors love him and want to connect with him but Orion is not interested lol More than a few times he'd come home and just plops himself on his couch and falls asleep due to how tired he was.

Sebastian's home is large but sparsely decorated. He has a big TV to play his video games on and it's what you'd think is a stereotypical young guy's place: brown couch, some video game memorabilia, and some sports stuff. He has a huge gamer computer setup he built himself. He uses it for games and for coding and general data stuff. Sebastian likes displaying all of his goodies and stuff and he doesn't touch Maya's room, which is much like Seven's in that it's super cluttered with music stuff and posters. Sebastian's house is what a default sims house looks like: nothing stylish, just generic furniture.

Victoria and G's is luxurious that leans more to anything that they like they just toss it in there. Huuuuge with plushy colorful couches and overpriced designer furniture. OH! If anyone has seen Cara Delevigne's AD...that's what their house would look like. Just chaotic everywhere with so many knickknacks and things that it's like an assault on your every single sense. Funky wallpapers, leopard rugs. A lot of that, surprisingly, is G's doing. G was very set on designing their house. They're barely home and live mostly in hotels anyway so it doesn't really matter.

August's is pretty generic; gray walls, purple bed. They live with their family (August was supposed to live with a roommate but I changed it to better fit their route) and Clare tends to be the messy one. I would say August's room is half and half, it's pretty empty but what they do have takes up a lot of space like their drum set and their huge speakers. The house is big (August's parents are pretty well-off as politicians) and very Grecian in appearance. August doesn't have much knickknacks and things like Seven. They're pretty detached to sentimental things like that. It's a very standard room, the centerpiece definitely being their drums. They have a huge computer set up, though, like a gamer set up like Seb's but they don't use it for games lmao

[vu1g4r]

𝘎𝘜𝘚𝘏 𝘱𝘵. 4 (𝘦.𝘸.) ⌗

a/n: sorry for disappearing for a while. i keep my promises. enjoy your meal, babes. ���༚༝༚

pairing: ellie w. + fem!reader

☢ warnings: reference to a switchblade, but it is not utilized in a violent manner; physical altercation; explicit language; oral (e!receiving); fingering (r!receiving), squirting.

it may still be disturbing for some readers. exercise caution while proceeding.

summary: in this last part, i finally give you what you've been eagerly waiting for.

MINORS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

ellie resides on the first floor, and here's the scoop – her window is slightly ajar today, and there's no sign of her inside. you need to act quickly. you spotted her heading to the campus just 5 minutes ago, which means you don't have much time. sneaking in through the open window, you find a bit of chaos – clothes scattered, books in disarray, and ellie's boxers casually lying on the floor. with a quiet chuckle, you set your plan in motion.

stealthily navigating the space, you observed ellie's desk cluttered with textbooks and scattered notes. the mischievous idea sparked, and you figure you rip apart ellie's essay. it's not a big deal, considering the deadline's the day after tomorrow, but still quite frustrating.

you hear the sound of a key sliding into the door lock, you quickly stuff the paper bits under the bed with your foot. panic set in, and you desperately sought refuge. with a quick decision, you ducked into ellie's louvered wardrobe, pressing against the wall. the doorknob turns, and ellie locks the door from the inside, giving you a moment to unwind amidst the jingle of keys. looks like your way out will be through the window.

through the slim openings, you catch a glimpse of ellie entering the room, her exhaustion evident. ellie surveyed the chaos with a hint of amusement, muttering to herself, "i should clean up this place someday"

your relief was short-lived as ellie's perceptive gaze landed on the open window. suspicion flickered across her features, making your heart race faster. ellie's eyes narrowed, and the room seemed to grow smaller as she approached the open window. you held your breath, fearing discovery. you gently pull out your phone from the back pocket and switch it to silent mode, all while ellie firmly closes the window.

ellie returns to her desk, plops into her gaming chair, and fires up her computer, not even bothering to change. dozens of photos spin on the monitor, then come to a halt. you squint your eyes and see a mesmerizingly beautiful girl posing with alluring curves. ellie tilts her head back, hand descending downward. wait, where did her skinny jeans disappear to?

you cover your mouth after hearing the rhythmic movement of a chair's wheels gliding across the floor. ironic. time to get the hell out of here.

you wait a few more seconds, making sure everything has smoothed out enough. with a careful motion, you unlock the wardrobe door. ellie, too heated to notice, remains oblivious to the subtle breeze created by your actions. the darn window is right next to the desk. maybe if you quickly smash it and make a swift escape, ellie won't have time to spot you. nah it's insane.

ellie moans, arching, while you attempt to sink into the ground. then, you quietly approach the door, trying to pick the lock with a hairpin. the leather chair falls backward, and ellie growls in pain. you frantically twist the hairpin in the keyhole. "what the hell?" ellie exclaims, and through the commotion, she rises from the fallen chair. "who the fuck are you?" the lock refuses to yield, and you turn around with reluctance, locking eyes with ellie, clad only in boxers and a hoodie. "shit, you again?" she snaps with irritation, furrowing her brows and rolling her eyes.

you quickly shift to the other side of the room, the bed acting as a makeshift barrier. ellie swivels toward her desk, clicking her tongue, "where is my essay, scum?"

ellie's wrath took a tangible form, her usually composed demeanor shattered by a surge of neon green fury. despite her seemingly petite stature, she moved with a swiftness that spoke volumes about her unleashed anger. in a desperate bid to defend yourself, you seized her lamp and hurled it mercilessly against the wall. the neon green glow shattered, casting fractured light across the room as glass fragments rained down onto the bed. "you little bitch, don't you fucking dare running away!!!" ellie's voice pierced the air. in a desperate attempt to escape, you rushed to the window, only to be yanked back inside by a firm grip on your waist. she tightened a headlock, squeezing the oxygen from your lungs, and in your struggle, you struck her arm. "got you, motherfucker"

released when your face turned crimson, you stumbled, adrenaline masking the pain. ellie, in just boxers and a hoodie, loomed over you, her green eyes harboring ominous intentions. fear heightened as you stammered, "i didn't mean to—" but ellie's interruption was swift and brutal. a punch to your stomach sent shockwaves of pain through your abdomen, the adrenaline no longer shielding you from the harsh reality. grateful that you weren't on your period, you managed to gasp out.

"are you mentally diseased?"

"i don't think so," you replied, coughing and attempting to stand tall. your attempt at humor met with a scoff. "you look really sexy right now" you retorted, hoping to distract her.

"shut up, fuck" ellie snapped, releasing your shirt. forehead sweating, you eyed the open window – your escape route. ellie sensed your intentions and blocked your way. "there's no way you're leaving, give me back my essay," she demanded, frustrated.

"i don't think it's possible," you replied, looking at the torn pages from under the bed. ellie's confusion deepened. "don't get mad; I can glue them together," seating yourself, you began the delicate task of salvaging what remained. ellie's impatience grew, and when you handed over the reconstructed papers, she snatched them with a defeated look. "sit there," she ordered, arranging the scraps on the desk. from a drawer emerged a switchblade, its cold steel glinting ominously. your eyes widened at the sight. as the blade hovered menacingly, you took a deep breath, preparing for a negotiation.

"uh, there's only one way to solve this. how about i give you a good head?" you suggested, noting the demons dancing in ellie's eyes. "let's not forget you're literally jerking off to girls' photos. what do you have to lose?" you were surprised at how bold your words are. the blade rushed up, gleaming dangerously.

"fuck... at least i don't disturb others. don't talk bullshit with me," ellie scoffed, fixing her intense gaze on your scared face. "i'm serious. you're super hot, especially right now," you blurted. it's a desperate move, but you hope it lands. ellie clenches her jaw, an incredulous chuckle escaping her lips. "oh yeah? okay," she responds, bobbing her head. the switchblade returns to its place, and you internally exhale, a temporary reprieve. "you still owe me for the lamp though," she added, the switchblade shines for the last time.

"uh, you mean head a month or 20 bucks a month? it's all i got," you replied. "let's see how good you'll do with this first," ellie replies, her confidence unyielding. she pulls her boxers down, licking her dry, stressed from cursing lips. standing with a mocking smile, she challenges you.

closing the distance, you bring yourself closer, and ellie opens her mouth. "god, you really are a slut, huh?" you smile at her, kissing her suprapubic area, and ellie's tension begins to dissipate. before you can settle, she grabs your head and guides herself onto your mouth. "t-this is how you apologize..." she grunts, and you stroke her wet folds with your tongue. one hand holds onto her thigh, and another delicately opens her hole just slightly to delve deeper. "fuck... just like that," she says, slowly guiding herself into your greedy mouth. looking up at her, you find ellie's eyes closed, and you spread her pussy lips, teasingly probing with just the tip of your tongue. "yeah... yeah, t-there..." you suck on her clit, determined to draw a moan from her. she impatiently bucks her hips, urging you to tongue-fuck her. ellie moans loudly, fingers clenching and pulling your hair. "swallow... every last drop," she commands. the rush of cum filled your mouth, trickling onto your nose, tracing a heated line down your neck. ellie just came from your mouth, and you can't resist kissing her pussy, softly nibbling on the labia. panting, ellie tilts her head back, body shaking as she leans on the desk. you continue kissing her thighs. "...good job," she acknowledges, looking down at you and stroking your hair. as you raise your head, mouth agape, she genuinely smiles for the first time. "what a mess," she smudges the liquid from your cheek to your mouth, inserting her thumb inside. ellie's eyes fixate on you, urging you to suck the arousal from her thumb. you cover her thumb with saliva, lips framing around and smacking obscenely. she pushes the thumb further, and you relax your jaw, almost swallowing her finger. ellie sits down in front of you, sliding her other hand under your pants, tapping your throbbing clit, causing you to push towards her hand and sending vibrations on her thumb. her middle finger slips right inside. "such a slut..." she cooes, "wanted me to fuck you so bad?" she takes out her thumb, letting you scream her name, begging for more. "shit, ellie, fuck me numb..." you moan, your legs spreading further. she smiles, pulling out her finger from your soaked cunt. you feel too empty, and she moves closer, throwing your leg on her shoulder and spreads her pussy lips, slamming them on yours. "gonna cum inside of you, little bitch. want me to fill you full, hm?" she asks, and you nod, rubbing your pussy against hers. bodies collided, the desire to synchronize overwhelmed by ellie's teasing allure. she reclined, caressing your thigh on her shoulder, whispering, "doing so good for me... look how creamy it is..." her words ignited a passionate response. your hands limply rested on the spiderman rug, providing a less painful surface. ellie's skillful touch brought you both to the brink, aching for a deeper connection. physically exhausted, the surreal nature of the encounter blurred the lines of reality. ellie leaned in for a kiss, a pleasurable stretch in your leg signaling your tolerance. ellie was omnipresent, not just in your dreams now. she kissed your lower lip, delicately exploring your mouth, intertwining with your tongue. the impending climax approached as ellie maintained her rhythmic movements, movements blurred with shared intensity. unable to contain the sensation, you wish she'd never stop.

"i'm– close, ellie," you confessed, ellie deepening the kiss, spreading your pussy lips wider with her right hand. as you reached the peak, ellie softly moaned, synchronized with the rhythm. shared satisfaction filled the air as you both found release, the connection between you intensifying. amidst the shared breaths, she spoke, "a month of just head won't cut it, baby," her husky words trailing off with a worn-out smirk.

taglist: @mostlyhornyandsad, @abbyandersonstargirl, @imsosluttyforabby.

[lumenniveus]

IKEA meets retro space

Download it now on SFS without ads bothering you

MERGED or as ZIP * (if you're missing some swatches please re-download. Something went wrong but it's fixed now thanks)

More info and in-game previews below the cut

AstraNova is a 59 asset large set made of the leftovers of HisLoft and the IKEA inspired pieces I wanted to make after my mother's last shopping haul there. It's... basic, but I think that is what makes this set so fun. You'll get glow stars, a nightlight that matches light switches, Starbucks on some books and enough slots to clutter around like a lunatic. Ah. Nevermind that Tron inspired arcade machine I spend hours on because I wanted to use my own artwork. Speaking of, the artwork in this set was created with an offline AI that uses only my own art as base. I don't trust online bots all that much. If anyone wants the un-edited originals (either as cc or as files) let me know.

In this set you will find a lot of buy objects, but also 1 wall paint, 1 wooden floor and 1 roof tile aka this thing here

I added a window element into the basegame tile to make it match with said basegame roof tile. Honestly? All that's left for me to make now is some sort of roof-curtain or something like that. I'll work on it.

Here's a collective of ALL the BB assets you will find in this set. A total list of everything? Too long to put here, but you can absolutely furnish a full bedroom, living room, dining room and small office with all the stuff. The arcade is NOT functional btw. It's just decor but if anyone wants the mesh to make it functional you'd be my favorite person for a whole week. Anyway, the stuff has proper LODs when it needs them. I think only the telescope is over 1k polys here, the rest is all around 300-500 ish, so it shouldn't bother your old potato laptop.

You can easily find the items by looking up "AstraNova" in your game. Everything is tagged and flagged and also marked as "basic" style if you have the home decorator pack. Should anything bug out, report back and I'll fix it.

The stuff comes in maxis matching colors designed to work with as many packs as possible. Here are the palettes

And finally, the Eggy. Hail our dear leader, here is that twice forsaken silly chair Mr Pickens is so fond of. My sim seems to enjoy it too

[sleepy-vix]

oh yeah btw i went into the city with my sister today and it was a very nice day :) i'm now going to tell you all about it bc i need to learn to be more positive. also, i will add random photos from pinterest so this post looks mildly interesting

here i go:

- first we watched an anzac day march (i live in australia, yeah. idrm u guys knowing that. basically anzac day is a day where we show respects to soldiers who fought in the war/s) for a whole hour (yeah... it was very tiring but atleast all we had to do was sit and watch. its not exactly hard i suppose)

- then, we went to a cafe where we drank iced matcha latte and shared a chocolate cake slice. the cafe was so cozy and it had jaz music and it was dark wood + green + overgrown vines type of vibe :)

- then, we went to....

drumroll please

a second hand bookstore !!!

*dies, comes alive, dies, comes alive* (x4)

there were a million books in there (or so the sign at the front claimed) and it was such a lovely place

it smelled like old books. i nearly suffocated because the smell was so strong (but i didnt mjnd at all ofc)

in the back, there was a big space with no shelves and a few tables and chairs to sit and read (i assume?) (tho there were still shelves along the wall)

in the front+middle, there were shelves everywhere, with only space for 2 people in between each shelf

it was very cluttered. i struggled to understand the system because many shelves were unlabelled, but i think that adds to the charm and i loved having to look through all the shelves

at the very front, there is the cash register and a bunch ( a BUNCH) of book stacks on the floor with no price (bc the owner hadnt priced the books yet. the shop is personally owned and they price books by writing it in pencil on the first page. isnt that so charming??)

the books werent insanely cheap, but its a food place to fins different/collectable covers of certain books

i saw a red hardbound version of dead souls by nikolai gogol, which i was going to get bc i really want to read that, but it was falling apart so badly (like the spine was 4/5 off the book) that i felt like it was unwise to purchase haha :,)

in the end, i didnt get to look at everything bc my sister got restless but i did manage to buy 3 books that i am very happy abt:

1. "the adventures of tom sawyer" by mark twain :) this was 7.50 and it had a really pretry cover (also it was small sized, which i think is so charming and pocketable)

2. "the tenant of wildfell hall" by anna brontë. i have read none of the brontë sisters' works, but i really want to:) this was also only 7.50 and the cover was pretty, and it was also pretty small

3. "quiet" by susan cain. it seems so interesting and it was only $10, whereas its going for $20 on amazon 💀 :)

also the owner gave me a bookmark that looked old and it was beige + black and it had the shop name on it, contact info, promo stuff but also it was so cool bc the font was fancy and there was an olden day sketch of an oldman reading to a child in the middle of the bookmark :)

also the owner was a nice and chill old man. also there was classical music !

i cant wait to revisit that store :) i will be opting to purchase all of my classics there because they have covers that ive never seen before.

---

then we took the bus home

the end

[mayordoi]

songwriting with meiko 🎙️

i have a few things to comment abt this which will be isolated under the cut so the post doesnt get too bloated :] mainly small hcs about meiko/kaito/miku hhhh

an idea that briefly popped in my head when i was brushing my teeth that i did not want to let get away. it was ambitious and i liked the concept of using my hc'd versions of the younger crypton vocaloids (miku's beta design and meiko/kaito's v1 designs) interacting with each other, so i went for it. i designed the general vibe of the background in animal crossing, ol reliable for these kinds of things, since i knew i wanted to cram as much detail in the environment as i could. i made a post about it on my personal account here since i was quite proud of this build.

as i was decorating, i kept spontaneously making headcanons for the younger meiko/kaito/miku unit in order to understand how to populate their living space with accurate clutter. i ended up totally overdecorating the whole thing and only referenced a small portion of the interior (like, why'd i go so hard on thinking about the yard? thats just what happens when i try taking this route) but i did like some of the ideas i came up with to explain my decorative choices. here's just a ramble.

oh yeah i guess i should get something i mentioned in the tags of that art i made w all the crypton gang's "younger" versions out of the way: i hc the character vocal gangs' "younger" designs to be their "IF" or beta designs. and meiko and kaito's younger versions are their V1 designs, mainly inspired by how they appear in the earlier project diva games (every time i look at them i just see them as awkward teens still trying to figure out who they are lmao)

also mentioned there that sakine meiko and meiko are one in the same and the fanloid and vocaloid arent separate entities. sakine meiko was meiko in her early music career as a relatable teen pop idol, with the "sakine" family name being made up to create that image. once meiko grew into an adult, she put the persona behind and just went by meiko, and around that time she met kaito and theyd be musical partners for a while

meiko sort of adopts miku into their unit when she recognizes her potential and serves as a mentor to her after then. kaito is the same but acts more as a supportive guardian in comparison. rin, len, and luka would come along later of course.

yeah i really fuck with the idea of the crypton gang being a little family :] i think it's neat! and this art/animal crossing build was a fun way to explore that hc a little

meiko is a physical media fiend, especially for music. loves collecting cds and vinyls and the like; they're littered all over the house. loves rock music too

kaito on the other hand has a knack for gardening and tends to the very modest garden outside their house. also collects a lot of art he finds in thrift marts and such for novelty's sake

miku always dedicated herself to improving her craft and finding her voice thanks to the help of meiko. she was also kind of a nerd at this era. very serious and dedicated

these folks did not know how to clean shit up, everything left lying on the floor ends up being an intentional decoration (probably not clear in this but i did like scattering stuff around to the best of my ability in the AC build)

ummm that’s it for now i guess i had less than i expected? but i’m glad to get this down somewhere lol feel free to share your own hcs if you wish, i love hearing them

[nicooole04]

With Practiced Ease

Midoriya x BlackFem!Reader

Midoriya always loved watching you do your hair. He adored how, with practiced ease, you'd twist and braid the strands in on themselves. It was like magic, he'd first thought. You were so... meticulous in the way you'd form the braids, creating repetitive patterns in your hair.

The first time he saw you braid was your sophomore year at U.A.. You'd just transferred from a school in America and spent the first few days with them locked away in your room. Everyone was concerned, of course, but Midoriya took the first step in checking up on you.

You'd heard a soft knock at your door. You were a little worried to be seen yet, but not too much. You pulled out your favorite bonnet, slipped it on and opened the door.

"Hello?"

Midoriya was a bit surprised by the strange hat you wore, but he didn't pay too much attention to it.

"Uh, (name), I was just checking on you. You just got here, but you've been kind of.. secluded. Are you alright?"

Honestly it surprised you to get a visit. You hadn't been required to attend classes until three days after you'd moved in, to give you time to settle and all. You hadn't seen your classmates, and you weren't even aware they knew who you were either.

Midoriya coming to visit you was something you hadn't expected to say the least.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm okay. I've just been busy moving in, y'know." That wasn't entirely wrong, you had been moving and organizing your stuff for the first day. But now, you were trying to get your first day braids in and they were taking longer than you'd hoped.

Midoriya smiled graciously at you, happy to know that you were doing okay. He was still curious, however.

"Do you need any help moving in?"

Midoriya loved the way your eyes creased when you laughed. Waving his suggestion off, you giggled, "No, no, I think I've got everything down."

Despite your cheerfulness, you still hadn't opened the door any wider, careful not to show anything past your body.

Midoriya knew you were trying to send him off, but seeing you now, he didn't want to leave. You were a mystery to him. An unknown. You'd come from a foreign country to U.A.. No one knew who you were here, no one knew your quirk or your history, hell, they barely knew your name.

Midoriya wanted to be the first to figure you out.

So when you saw his smile falter a little with dejection, you figured it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with him. Plus, you were getting lonely cramped up in your room.

"Actually, I do need help organizing some books and things, if you don't mind." Midoriya's wide puppy eyes smiled at you.

"Of course, I'll help you, (name)."

You were happy to see him in such a good mood, but you were slightly embarrassed for him to see your room.

On the bed, you had bags of hair, some of them already opened and organized. You had a pillow on the floor next to some combs and brushes. Clips and a jar of gel. Your phone had been propped up against the leg of your desk chair with a YouTube video playing aimlessly.

For someone who just moved in, your room was already a mess.

"I'm sorry for the clutter," Midoriya watched as you began moving the stuff on the floor out of the way. He actually didn't mind the mess. Midoriya was admiring your room, really. Your walls were covered in posters of your favorite artists. Pictures of your friends and family littered the spaces in between. On the back of the door was a full body mirror with jewelry hanging from the corners. Your desk was relatively clear except your laptop, a lamp, potted plant and various lip glosses. A rug lay beneath the clutter and, despite the rest of the mess, your bed was made up nicely.

"There, it's a little cleaner," you chuckled nervously as you pointed to a small bookshelf in the corner with two cardboard boxes in front of it. "My books are in there, you can just set them on the shelf and that'll be fine."

Midoriya loved seeing you smile, it filled him with a sunshiney feeling he couldn't describe.

He quickly moved over to the shelf, sitting down on his knees to get a better look. You watched as he began pulling the books out, one by one, and instead of just putting them on the shelves, you watched as he took the time to read the title of each one. Inspecting the books individually. You figured that would distract him for a bit while you finally started on your hair. Midoriya wasn't looking at you, but he'd heard your hums as you slipped your bonnet off, undoing the quick bun you'd put up. You grabbed a brush before pulling the tool through your hair, effectively detangling it.

After you were satisfied, you'd started sectioning off your hair, putting the rest into mini buns to deal with later. You moved almost robotically as you used the rattail comb to make more, tiny boxes of your hair before using the gel to slick the parts.

You'd already pulled a nice section of hair out, so all you had to do was feed it into the braid, bulking up the strand until you could comfortably braid to the end.

It wasn't until you'd done a few more braids that you noticed Midoriya has completely stopped stacking the book away and was now watching you with pure wonder in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this making you uncomfortable?" Back home, you were surrounded by people who knew how to take care of your hair and style it. Your mother used to sit you down in the kitchen with the hot comb on the stove, promising you she wouldn't burn you, but ultimately did a few times. As a kid, your grandmother with plat your hair and style the sections into little twists before wrapping a knocker around the base and adding a barrette to the end. You didn't feel weird or out of place at home doing your own hair.

But here, you weren't sure if people would be feel uncomfortable. To be frank, you were feeling insecure.

"I can wait until later to finish, I don't want to make you-"

"No, no, you don't have to stop. I've just never seen someone do their hair like that," Midoriya was entranced. Living in Japan his whole life, he was used to seeing the same hairstyles. Same colors, same textures. There wasn't much variety. But seeing the way you combined the hair from the bag into your own to create something so beautiful, he wanted you to keep going.

"Really? You're not...weirded out?" Midoriya shook his head. He'd abandoned his shelf stacking job and was completely committed to watching you.

Whenever you did something, he'd ask what you were doing and how. You explained to him what box braids were, how to section them off and showed him up close how to braid. You explained your hair texture to him and he asked how you take care of it so you told him that too.

You and Midoriya spent hours together, eventually moving onto other topics. You told him about your hometown and your family, the foods you ate, the holidays you celebrated. You told him about your school and your quirk and why you'd decided to move to Japan at all.

Midoriya listened intently to every word you spoke, making a mental note of every fact you gave him. He loved hearing you talk, hearing you laugh.

He still does, to this day. Even after you'd both graduated from U.A. and we in the early years of your heroic careers, Midoriya was still memorized with you and your hair.

He watched from your bed as your hands moved down the braid. You were focused, a strand of curly hair still connected to the braid hanging between your lips as you continued braiding, your eyes trained on the video on the TV. You were multitasking in such a beautiful way. He adored you. You the same, given he was your first, real friend in Japan. He was the first person to make you feel comfortable in such a new place. You were forever grateful for him.

So Midoriya watched as you, with practiced ease, braided your hair.

A sight he could never get tired of seeing.

•

•

•

I hope you guys enjoy this, I'm trying to get back into writing and I'm thinking of starting small with fluffy little one-shots.

Let me know what you think!!

[magicshopaholic]

Near Misses

Summary: Five minutes and a near miss each, Jimin and Hoseok help two ladies in their lives set up their apartment.

Pairing: Jimin x OC, Hoseok x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Exes, brother's best friend; humour, banter, flirting

Word count: 4.2 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, kissing, references to alcohol

A/N: Takes place about three months after New Year's Eve Eve and two months after Kiss and Tell.

Tagging: @bbl32@quarter-life-crisis2@meirkive@faearchives@margopinkerton@dreaming-with-happiness@confessionsofamarshlily@jiminjhang@xjoonchildx@tarahardcore@infinitehobi@handfullofcandids@purpleseoul7

Listen to: "simple song" by the shins

jimin masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

“Think fast!”

Jimin whips around and catches the object just before it hits him. 

“What the hell?” He examines the thing in his hand. “Sooah, I could’ve died.”

“Getting hit with a coaster? Try again, Park Jimin.”

Jimin huffs and places the coaster with the rest of the set in its stand and lines it on the coffee table. “You could be a little more grateful for my help, you know?”

Sooah chuckles, not looking up from the cardboard box she’s rummaging through. “Help? You’ve spent the last half hour critiquing every aspect of my living room.”

“Isn’t that helping?”

“Not quite. I like my living room.”

“It’s cluttered.” He gingerly picks up the quilt on the edge of her sofa. “And… mismatched. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No, I think it’s charming.”

“It’s messy.”

“So are you.” She smiles innocently at him.

“Fine, we get it. You like messy things,” he says nonchalantly, grinning and catching a stuffed toy she throws at him. “And you have a lot of crap. Sooah, this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he informs her, holding up the stuffed white cat. 

“It has lost a lot of its allure,” she admits. “Fine, I can throw that out. I wouldn’t even know where to keep it.”

Jimin frowns. “Why are you unpacking, anyway? Isn’t Chaeyoung the one moving in?”

“Yeah, but I figured she’ll need some room for her stuff in the living room, too.” Sooah stands up and surveys the small space, hands on her hips. “And it’s a good enough reason to do some spring cleaning after a while. Apparently I have a lot of crap,” she adds.

“Kudos to Chae, then.” Jimin sits on the floor and leans back against the coffee table as Sooah tosses the empty cardboard box to the side. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Taking a shower, I think,” she answers, pulling an entire drawer out of a cabinet and rummaging through it. “She spent most of the morning sweeping and cleaning her room.”

“Are you sure you can do the roommate thing again?” Jimin asks curiously, watching as she holds up two sets of miscellaneous chargers. Her hair is tied back but loose strands of hair have escaped her ponytail. Her cheeks look pleasantly chubby and flushed; in the absence of any make-up, he can almost imagine the tiny, almost invisible smattering of freckles on her cheeks.

“Sure, why not?”

“You’ve lived alone for a while. Speaking from experience, having roommates requires a lot of sacrifice,” he says wisely.

Sooah sighs and looks up at him. “Are you going to complain about Taehyung and Jungkook finishing the last piece of hoppang again? It was three years ago, Jimin. Move on.”

“I said it was mine but they still - no.” He takes a deep breath. “Not again. I just meant that I thought you liked living alone.”

“I don’t hate it,” she agrees, going back to the drawer. “But I don’t hate having to split rent either. Plus, if I’m being honest, it’s been getting a bit lonely here lately,” she admits.

Jimin frowns. “Really?” When she simply shrugs, he bites his lip. “Why haven’t you ever called me when you’re lonely?”

It takes her a moment to meet his eyes but when she does, he’s surprised to see she’s suppressing a smile.

“That’s sweet, but… it’s not the kind of loneliness you’ve helped me out with in the past,” she ventures.

He narrows his eyes. “Wow. I’m just a hot piece of ass to you, aren’t I?”

Sooah laughs. “Your words, not mine.”

“So what kind of loneliness is Chaeyoung going to help you out with?” he demands, standing up and folding his arms across his chest. “What does she have that I don’t?”

“You really want an answer to that question?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “Chae, with her wise words and cute pajamas?”

“Oh, I get it. She’s better at sleepovers. Mixing fruity cocktails and shelling out advice about the horrible men you work with. I’m sure you follow that up with the pillow fights in your underwear.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, Chim, but girls don’t actually do that.”

Jimin clutches his chest in mock-agony. “You’re breaking my teenage boy heart.”

“It’s survived worse,” she says nonchalantly, chucking two broken halves of a candle into a trash bag.

“Chaeyoung must be a hell of a roommate if you don’t even get the pillow fights out of it,” he remarks, picking up a stray cushion and hugging it. “Or you must be the super roommate for her to snag the room the day after you decided to rent it out.”

“Actually, I asked her if she wanted to move in - but only because Hoseok asked me to,” she clarifies, shrugging. “He said she probably wanted to but she’d never listen if he suggested it. I kind of get it, though. Her old roommate was shady as hell.”

“Hoseok may have done you a service, then.”

“Oh, definitely. The first thing she did when she came in here was set up an aroma diffuser.” Sooah points to a small earthen pot at the top of the TV cabinet, with white sticks poking out of it. “I was sold.”

“Sounds like the whole package.” He claps his hands. “Guess you don’t need me, then.”

“Guess I don’t.” She flashes him a smile.

Jimin narrows his eyes. “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone, you know,” he warns her. “When you have no one to snark with over cookie dough or make you a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“You tried that once in all the time we’ve been hanging out since Taehyung’s party, Jimin,” she reminds him. “I have yet to be impressed.”

He nods and bites his lip, knowing she’s referring to more than just a sandwich. She raises an eyebrow expectantly and he chuckles, unwilling to fold.

“Fine. Can I buy you a new sofa? Would that impress you?”

Sooah frowns, visibly taken aback. “A new sofa? No way.”

“This one looks really old,” he says reasonably, going over and examining it briefly. “There’s a cigarette burn here and… is this a coffee stain?” He straightens up and tilts his head. “Don’t you sleep on this?”

“Hey, it’s a really old sofa, okay?” she replies, a little defensively. “I got it second hand because inflation hit rent pretty hard that year, so just… back off,” she adds.

Jimin raises his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to criticise. Just… can’t I gift you one? Friends do that.”

“Friends,” she repeats.

“Isn’t that what we are?”

To Jimin’s relief, her mouth twitches just a little as she rolls her eyes. “Friends don’t gift each other things like furniture,” she informs him, passing him by to gather some stray tape and bubble wrap on the floor. “Save that kind of stuff to spoil your girlfriend with.”

He sighs hugely. “If only she’d do something about it, I would.” 

Sooah scoffs as she starts to walk back, stopping slowly when he grabs her hand and tugs her a little closer, the other hand in his pocket. 

“Think of what you’d get out of it,” he insists, lowering his voice in an attempt to sound more persuasive. 

She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. “A free sofa?”

“A free sofa, ice cream at your beck and call, and parties with a lot of expensive liquor.”

“A compelling argument.” 

“Is it working?”

“Not as well as you’d like,” she quips, playfully punching him in the solar plexus and slipping away when he groans. “In fact, why don’t you make yourself useful?” she continues, nudging a dusty machine at the edge of the carpet. “I dragged this out of the storage closet and almost pulled a muscle while doing it; could you help me put it back in?”

“What is it?” he asks, frowning and going over to take a closer look.

“Vacuum cleaner,” she supplies. “I bought it after four homemade margaritas.”

“So, that’s, like… ten regular margaritas?”

“Exactly.”

“So you called me over just to do all your heavy lifting?” Jimin places a hand on his hip, affronted.

Sooah frowns, a little incredulously. “Are you kidding? I didn’t even call you - you just showed up.”

“Yeah, but with beer. You know what? Fine, I’ll help.” He stretches his arms and cricks his neck for effect before bending and picking up the vacuum cleaner. “Storage closet, you said?”

Sooah beckons him to follow her and leads him to a small opening between both the bedrooms. Opening the closet door, she reaches up and taps the top shelf. “Right there.”

“Got it.” Taking care to flex his triceps, he raises the vacuum cleaner over his head, ready to place it in when she stops him.

“Wait! Um -” She slides in between him and the closet and moves some stuff to the side. “Here. You have more room now,” she says, turning around but not stepping away.

“Mhm.” Jimin doesn’t even bother suppressing his grin and heaves the vacuum cleaner into the appointed space. He grunts softly as he pushes it and tucks it in, feeling his t-shirt ride up his abdomen and cool air on his bare skin. He bravely leans forward slightly, just so her nose brushes momentarily against his collarbone, before stepping back down.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s good,” she answers, without turning around to look. Her freckles, few and far and almost the same shade as her skin, are slightly more visible now, peppered over the bridge of her nose. “I mean, it’s… fine.”

Jimin nods and places a hand behind her on one of the shelves, just above her ear. “Anything else I can do?”

She brushes some dust off the front of his t-shirt. “Stick around. I’m sure I’ll find something for you to do.”

“Aren’t you glad you called me over?”

“Again,” she says, folding her arms across her chest, “you invited yourself over. Haven’t you learnt that it’s rude to show up without calling?”

“I’ve been doing that pretty much every day since New Year’s. And you never seemed to have a problem with it,” he points out. He pinches her cheek affectionately. “Even the days I showed up empty-handed.”

She nudges his hand away but loosely locks her fingers with his, bringing both their hands now. “And yet, you still haven’t told me what it is you really want.”

Jimin sighs. “Sooah, you know what I want. What I think we both want. Why do I have to be the one to say it?” he whines.

Sooah give him a look. “Because you broke up with me.”

A beat passes and Jimin deflates. “Fine. Here goes.” He looks at the floor and then surreptitiously up at her, only to see a mildly interested expression on her face.

“Kim Sooah,” he begins, bringing his face closer to hers and knowing he isn’t imagining the slight hitch in her breathing. “Kim Sooah, I…”

Another beat; Jimin’s stomach twisting in anticipation, Sooah’s eyes wide with cautious hope. Without meaning to, their noses graze, just when the doorbell rings.

Sooah flinches while Jimin closes his eyes, partly frustrated and partly relieved.

“... will get the door.”

A little regretfully, he steps away from her and heads towards the living room, hearing the closet door loudly slam shut behind him. He opens the door to see Hoseok cradling a potted plant.

“Hyung?” he says in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I - I came to see Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung’s apartment, I mean,” he amends, holding up the plant as though to support his answer.

“Hey, Hoseok, come in.” Sooah appears from behind Jimin. “Chae didn’t tell me she’d called you over.”

“Oh, no, she didn’t,” he says immediately, shuffling inside and slipping his shoes off. “I thought I’d just pop by… see if she needed any help unpacking.”

“Huh.” She turns to Jimin. “So this is where you learnt it from. She’s in her room, probably already started,” she tells Hoseok, ignoring Jimin’s roll of the eyes. “It’s the one with the dreamcatcher hanging on the doorknob.”

Hosoek half-grins and waves to them, making his way to the aforementioned room. He’s about to knock when he sees the door swing open slightly, and he frowns. He knocks softly anyway but upon hearing no response, pushes the door open a little more.

“Hey, Chae, are you - oh, shit!”

He immediately whips around in horror, almost giving himself whiplash, while Chaeyoung scrambles to cover her torso with something. 

“Hoseok?” Chaeyoung exhales in relief. “God, oppa - can’t you knock?”

“I did knock!” he cries, back still to her. “You didn’t answer! And the door was open!”

“Oh. Sorry. I was wearing earphones.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes so hard he feels like his eyeballs could fall off. “Great job, Chae,” he says sarcastically. There’s the sound of clothes moving behind him but he still doesn’t turn around, the image burned into his retinas of her long hair down her bare back, her long and narrow waist, her pelvic bones peeking out from above her joggers… He squeezes his eyes shut, willing it to go away.

“Uh, you can turn around now.”

“I’m fine right here, actually.”

“I’m fully clothed now. God,” she exclaims, and he can almost hear her rolling her eyes.

Gingerly, opening his eyes a millimetre at a time, he turns around. He doesn’t leave anything to chance, though, placing his free hand over his eyes anyway.

“Here,” he says vaguely, extending the other arm with the plant blindly towards her. He feels her slap his hand softly and finally uncovers his eyes with a huff, relieved to see her in a full sleeved white top, a black tank top visible through the thin material.

“You’re not going to turn into stone if you accidentally see me without my shirt off, you know?” she snaps.

“I didn’t think - that’s not -” He takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose. “Here,” he repeats, handing her the plant again. “I brought you a housewarming gift.”

Chaeyoung’s expression freezes in the mildly irritated one from a moment ago before her muscles relax and her eyes widen in earnest. “Oh. That’s…” She takes the plant from him. “Wow. You didn’t have to do that.”

Hoseok shrugs noncommittally. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She opens the door wider and steps aside. “Thank you for the plant, by the way. It’s really nice of you.”

“No problem.” He glances around the room, feeling distinctly like he’s stepped into a portal to the past. It’s not exactly like the room she had at her parents’ house, but something about the purple and white bed covers, the tall lamp with half a dozen colourful scarves tied around the neck and the smell of fruity moisturiser feels so very Chaeyoung that he isn’t even sure he’s allowed to be here.  

“So?” she asks, holding the plant with both hands and in front of her abdomen. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice.”

“Really? No opinions on which wall the bed should face or the hazards of a scented candle on a wooden desk?” she asks sceptically.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows and glances at the desk to see a white candle perched on the top shelf of her desk and chuckles. “No. I think I trust you not to burn down your desk.”

“Huh. Who are you and what have you done with my… brother’s best friend and his extreme lack of faith in me?”

“I’d almost be offended but it kind of brings me to why I’m here.” He slips his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and rocks on the balls of his feet. “I… wanted to apologise. Sort of. I know I’ve been treating you like a bit of a kid and I just wanted to say… well, you’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

Chaeyoung nods thoughtfully. “In the last ten years? Well… maybe some, not a lot.” She shrugs sarcastically before smiling a little as though to let him know she’s just teasing. “Oppa, is this about the party at my dad’s house? Or… what we talked about that night?”

Hoseok sighs and nods, taking a seat on the chair at her desk and facing her. “Kind of. I expected a certain reaction from you but the one you actually had was… pretty mature.” He says the word a bit disbelievingly. “You’ve grown up, Chae. I guess it just took me a while to see that.”

She seems to be a bit taken aback by this confession and is - Hoseok observes in satisfaction - momentarily speechless. “Oh. Well, I - thank you,” she stutters.

“Yeah.”

“And also for the… plant.”

“You got it.”

Chaeyoung nods awkwardly and places the white ceramic pot on her bed, balancing it carefully on the quilt before straightening up. He can tell she’s thrown by his sudden admittance and is a bit awkward; she avoids his gaze and ties her long hair into a ponytail, her bangs still damp from her shower. The movement makes her shirt ride up slightly and he catches a glimpse of her pelvic bones again and immediately looks away, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Um -” He swallows and bites his lip. “I also wanted to check… you didn’t happen to mention any of that to your brother, did you?”

It’s like a switch has been turned on - or turned off. Chaeyoung’s shoulders fall and the delicate awkwardness he realises he was actually endeared by disappears, only to be replaced by an annoyance he’s much more familiar with.

“Is that what you’re really for? You know, this could’ve been a text, Hoseok,” she states sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? No,” he says honestly. “I came here to see - to give you that,” he clarifies, pointing at the plant. “I just wanted to check, okay? He’s my best friend and you’re his -”

“Do you really think Chanyeol will even care?” 

“Oh, believe me, he’ll care.”

“Really? Would you be this anal about it if Jiwoo unnie dated him?”

Hoseok almost gags. “Okay, that’s disgusting. And you know what? You’re being all self-righteous about this,” he points out, turning it around on her. “Would you be okay if, like… Sooah suddenly started dating Chan?”

“Um, yes?” she answers, like it’s extremely obvious. “It’s none of my business? They’re adults!”

He stares at her incredulously before shaking his head. “Fine, maybe it’s different for sisters. Younger sisters, especially, but… you don’t get it, okay? You’re Chan’s sister and I can’t -”

“Oh, my God, is that all you think of me?” she interrupts fiercely. “Has it ever occurred to you that I have an identity outside of Chan’s sister? That not everything is about him?”

“I know you’re -”

“You come over here and give me this spiel about how I’ve grown up and everything but it doesn’t matter because I’ll always be your best friend’s little sister!” She shrugs in frustration. “You know why I don’t think Chanyeol will care? It’s because he - get this - knows I’m a person separate from him.”

“Chae,” says Hoseok, a little sternly now because why doesn’t she get it? “I hear you, okay? I know you are your own person, but Chan has been my best friend my entire life,” he explains clearly, joining his hands and punctuating every word with a movement. “So for my entire life, for better or for worse, you were just Chan’s sister.”

“I’m not -”

“And I would love to get to know you better and I want to hang out with you more, but you will always also be Chan’s sister, which makes you the one girl on the planet I cannot mess with.” He exhales, panting a little. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just… how it is.”

Chaeyoung’s gaze is trained away from him, somewhere around her bed, her jaw set and brows furrowed. “Fine,” she says eventually, shrugging. “Whatever. I didn’t tell him anything. It’s not newsworthy or anything, you know?”

Hoseok says nothing, already regretting his outburst a bit. For the first time in his life, he wishes she wasn’t just Chanyeol’s sister. He wonders briefly what it would’ve been like if he’d been nicer to her when they were kids, if she hadn’t made her schoolgirl crush so obvious, if he’d cared less about what his classmates thought. 

But they’d been four years apart; at that age, four years felt like a gulf. Right now, it feels only vaguely far away, like walking distance, enough to take her by the hand and guide her if she encounters a pothole.

Hoseok stands up and walks over to her. She still doesn’t look at him, not even when he nudges her shoulder. 

“Come on, don’t be mad,” he says softly.

“I’m not mad.”

Hesitating only for a fraction of a second, he reaches over and wraps his arms around her shoulders in a hug. “You’re kind of cute when you’re mad,” he says, a little teasingly.

For a moment he’s afraid he’s misread the situation completely, but then she begrudgingly hugs him back, her slender arms going around his waist. “Don’t lie,” she grumbles, resting her chin against her shoulder.

He chuckles softly and rubs her back, his chest feeling instantly lighter. They separate and he’s glad to see she looks at least slightly more appeased, if a little ruffled.

“You should put that somewhere,” he advises her, pointing to the plant. “You’ll spill soil on your bed.”

“Okay, dad,” she mutters, but picks it up anyway. “I’ll put it on my desk - it’s directly in the sunlight,” she adds, gesturing to the spot next to the candle. “By the way, nice work on subtly reminding me we’re nothing but platonic.”

Hoseok almost chokes. “What? I did no such thing.”

“You kind of did,” she disagrees, about the place the pot on the desk. “Could you move those papers out of the way, please?”

“Don’t twist my words around,” he tells her, reaching over from behind her and clearing the space on the top shelf of the desk.  “This was about your brother. And my life.”

“I don’t even know why you’re so bothered,” she continues, apparently not even listening to him. “It’s not like we made out. It was actually a pretty platonic kiss, ironically,” she says matter-of-factly, neatly placing the pot on the desk.

Hoseok frowns. “I wouldn’t say it was platonic.”

“Not platonic like kissing a friend, sure, but it wasn’t as scandalous as you think,” she says serenely, stepping back to admire the plant in the gentle rays of sunlight streaming in. “Looks good, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by platonic?” he repeats. “It was… we -” He trails off, not sure what the word is. “It… lingered.”

Chaeyoung frowns slightly and turns to him. There is now less than a foot between them when she places one hand on her hip. “Kind of. I mean, we didn’t… you know…” She shrugs slowly, and he can see her cheeks pinking up slightly, “... French. Our lips… touched. That’s all.”

Without warning, Hoseok’s gaze falls to her lips. He averts it, but it takes him a second longer to do so. “It was a little more than that,” he argues weakly.

She says nothing, but something in her eye seems knowing. A ray of sunlight falls on her, making the flyaway strands of her dark brown hair appear almost auburn. A light breeze ruffles the collar of her shirt, baring her collarbone and his mind zooms back  to his arrival and the unintentional glimpse he’d caught that seems unlikely to ever leave his memory. How her eyes went wide when she turned her head around in surprise; how the rest of her body, despite mostly facing away from him, still revealed a shape he’d never considered in relation to her; how she’d covered up her breasts in record time with her shirt but the shape of her collarbones slanting down towards her chest was empty as ever.

This is Chan’s sister. But the voice in his head sounds like it’s underwater and drowning, barely audible.

“You were pretty drunk that night, oppa,” she reminds him in a murmur, and Hoseok’s stomach flips. “Do you think you need a recap of what really happened?”

It occurs to Hoseok very vaguely that his mind is absolutely blank, for no response comes to him. Chaeyoung’s mouth twists infinitesimally upwards when a sound like a gunshot makes them spring apart.

They look to see Jimin at the door, his knuckles against the wood. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s imagining the slight smirk on his face. “We’re ordering lunch. Do you guys want anything?”

“Jajjangmyeon,” pipes up Chaeyoung, while Hoseok tries to slow his pulse. 

“Um - bulgogi.”

“Cool.” Flashing them an unnecessarily wide grin, Jimin saunters away, leaving the door wide open.

For a few seconds, neither of them speaks. Hoseok is too afraid to look at Chaeyoung, and even more afraid at the road his thoughts were going down when Jimin scared them half to death. 

“So, um…” He clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her. “You were, uh… unpacking?”

“Yeah,” she says immediately. “I was going to do the - the books next. Or the accessories,” she stutters, pointing to the remaining boxes under her desk.

“I got the books,” he says, reaching down and dragging the box out. “They go in the…”

“Bookshelf.”

“Right. And the accessories are…”

“In the closet,” she answers immediately, “all the way on the other side of the room.”

“Perfect.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[gavinisqueer]

Gavin confused as to why nines is giving him so many gifts

Thank you for the prompt! This was the only one I got, so I went ahead and wrote a whole fic for it lol

If there was one place that Gavin couldn’t be said to be disorganized, it was his desk. His closet? There was stuff in there he’d lost back in 2029. Fridge? The amount of expired condiments lost in behind his recent purchases could make a health inspector cry. His own pockets? He lost his keys at least 2 times a day, and was always finding random receipts he’d shoved in his jeans and forgotten about until after they’d gone through the wash.

But his desk? He kept that thing clean, organized, and free of clutter. His work was everything to him, so every shred of his executive function went first and foremost to making sure he could find everything he needed at a moment’s notice.

Which was why the recent additions to the desk were getting to be pretty annoying.

It had started with a small stuffed bulldog. The thing had appeared one morning while he was on a coffee break, returning to find it sitting behind his keyboard. He’d blinked, looking around for the source, but seeing nobody nearby except his partner, Nines, who was sitting at their half of the shared desk, he shrugged it off. It wasn’t taking up much room, and if someone liked him enough to gift him something dumb and cute like that, he wasn’t going to complain. Most of his coworkers steered clear of him, so it was nice to be appreciated for once.

If that had been all, it would have been fine. But more things kept appearing over the coming days. A small potted cactus. A tiny fishbowl, empty of water but painted on the inside with little fish. A die where instead of numbers, each side displayed a different insult - that, he had laughed at. A month later and it was starting to get a little ridiculous. Most of his desk space had been taken over by the little knickknacks, to the point that he barely had room to put his coffee down. If the DPD were still using physical files, he’d already have had to shove some of them to the floor so he could work.

When he got back from a scene one day and trudged off to the bathroom, only to come back and find a tooth-shaped stress ball in the one space he had left for his coffee mug, it was the last straw.

“Goddamnit,” he grouched as he sat in his chair, spinning it to face Nines’ side of the desk. “Hey, tincan, you see who keeps leaving this crap on my desk?” He could have asked the android before, but he was having fun trying to guess who it was. It really needed to stop before he was drowning in the random shit that kept getting left for him, though.

Nines’ LED switched from the calm blue it had been projecting to red, surprising Gavin. It changed back almost immediately, the android having hacked the thing ages back so they wouldn’t be broadcasting their emotional state constantly, but Gavin knew what he’d seen. “I’m afraid I do not know, detective.”

“…really?” Gavin asked, “You’ve been sitting there the whole time, and you haven’t once seen who keeps leaving stuff here? I find that hard to believe.”

The android was silent for a moment. “I have been… very consumed by my work.”

Bullshit. “You’re telling me Mx. Best Android Ever can’t connect to the computer system and watch the bullpen at the same time? Even Connor can do that.” He knew bringing up the RK900’s predecessor would be a hit to their pride, and as expected, Nines looked annoyed at the comparison. “Seriously, just tell me. If they swore you to secrecy or something, I promise I won’t let them know it was you.”

Nines looked at him with an unreadable expression, and Gavin waited, giving them a few seconds to come to a decision. Finally, they said, “…I am the one who has been gifting you with that ‘crap’, detective.”

…well, shit.

Gavin winced, realising he’d just insulted the android right in front of them. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “It’s just a lot of sh- stuff. And it’s cluttering up my desk. One or two things, fine, god knows everyone else around here has got enough personal affects to stage a garage sale in the break room, but this is getting excessive.”

LED cycling blue in a steady pattern that Gavin knew meant they were controlling it, Nines looked down at his desk, taking in the lack of space between all the random items that had accumulated there. “Oh,” they said quietly, “I see. My apologies, detective, I didn’t consider that my gifts might be taking up space you find valuable. I can remove them for you at the end of our shift.”

They turned back to their computer, as if Gavin was going to let the conversation end there. “You don’t have to remove them,” Gavin sighed. “I mean, I do need the desk space, but I can bring them home with me. You’ve just gotta stop adding more, or else my apartment will be taken over by this stuff, too.”

Their light cycled a natural yellow. “Understood. I only had two more gifts for you, anyway.”

“Oh, well, I guess I can take those, if there’s no more after that. But I gotta ask,” Gavin added, “why’re you leaving gifts on my desk, anyway? It’s not my birthday or anything, and even if it was, you would have given me more than enough presents to cover that a few weeks ago. Is there some android holiday I don’t know about? Shit, was I supposed to get you something?”

That brought a small, rare smile to their lips. “No, detective, there are no holidays at this time. If there were, I’m sure Connor would have outdone me in that regard with the lieutenant.” They seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing. “They are… gifts of thanks.”

“Thanks for what?” Gavin asked, frowning as he tried to remember if he’d done anything last month to bring this about.

“For deviating me,” Nines told him. “The anniversary of my deviation is in two days.”

“Oh,” it was Gavin’s turn to say. He had only been told the android’s deviation was due to him, rather snidely, by Connor a few weeks after the fact. “Well, damn. I didn’t exactly do that on purpose, tincan. And you probably shouldn’t be thanking the guy who annoyed you into deviancy.” He looked back down at his desk, then asked, “And if that’s in two days, why’ve you been giving me stuff all month?”

“Because one month ago was the anniversary of when we were partnered,” the android answered, smiling. “And I can assure you, detective, you did not annoy me into deviancy. You did annoy me,” they added, “but that was not why I deviated. I had already been activated for six months before I came to the DPD, after all the efforts of Markus and the others at Jericho failed to break through my programming. Only for you to cause me to deviate within just a month of our meeting.”

Gavin frowned. “How…”

In answer, the android pulled out one of their desk drawers, taking something out and setting it on the desk beside them. Gavin stared at the tiny stuffed hippo in front of him, not understanding the significance.

“You gave me this when it came with the food you ordered,” Nines explained. “Despite how much you seemed to dislike me, you thought of me when you needed someone to give it to. I had never been given a gift before.”

“That’s what made you deviate?” Gavin asked, “Not, I dunno, the dozen or so times I threatened to throw you into a trash compactor the first week?”

“It was eleven times,” they corrected, “and yes. I had been programmed to withstand all manner of ill treatment and abuse so that I would not succumb to deviation. And the efforts of Jericho were never going to work, because I knew that everything they were doing was only because they wanted me to deviate. But you… You showed me kindness with no ulterior motive, a fact I could be certain of because you had made it quite clear that you did not want anything from me. So, if it were not for you being yourself,” Nines summarized, “I may never have deviated.”

Well, that was… a lot to get hit with on a Monday morning. “You still didn’t need to get me this many gifts,” he said, “but, uh, you’re welcome, I guess? And thanks. Some of this stuff is pretty neat.”

The smile they gave him at that had him turning his eyes back to his own computer to hide the red that rose to his face, even though he knew Nines would be able to tell from scanning him. They didn’t comment on it, thank fuck.

Later that day, when their shift ended, Gavin pushed all the things on his desk that he wouldn’t risk breaking into his bag, and carried the rest out to his car in his arms so he could take them home. His cat was about to get a lot more stuff to swat off of his shelves.

He did decide to leave behind the little stuffed bulldog Nines had gotten him. Just to give his desk a little personality so it didn’t look so sad.

If it happened to find a companion in the form of a blue hippo that had been given its own place on Nines’ desk, well. That was complete coincidence, an he would threaten violence on anyone who implied otherwise.