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buckysgrace · 6 months ago

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Wrapped in Red

Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (Kim)

12 Days of Christmas

Billy gets playful with the Christmas bows

CW: Unprotected sex, Ribbons as restraints

Billy

“What are you doing?” He asked as he entered the room, cocking his eyebrow at the mess that he was greeted with. It looked as if a Christmas bomb had blown up in their room. Glitter covered the floor, discarded wrapping paper had been dragged off by the cats, ribbons were haphazardly tossed about. It was like a war zone.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get into their bed to sleep when it was so messy. Well, mostly because she seemed to be working so intensely. But he was tired. And he was sure that she needed a break.

“It’s hard,” Kim whined, looking pitiful as she held out the surrounding bows, “How do people make it look so easy?” Her hazel eyes were wide, a piece of ribbon strung through her hair. He leaned forward to pick it out, sure that it wasn’t on purpose.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” He told her seriously, honestly thinking that it didn’t look nearly that bad, “It looks cute.” He looked at the bow once again, noting that one side was bigger than the other.

“It’s lopsided.” She pouted as she held it up, looking quite pitiful as she had him examine it. He shook his head, knowing that she was being too hard on herself.

“Fix the side here, just a little bit-,” He instructed, eyes widening as the bow fell apart and into flat pieces again, “Oh.” He wrinkled his nose up, hoping that she wouldn’t get upset. She looked like she had been working on it for quite some time.

“See?” She laughed as she looked at him, “It’s a pain.” She pouted as she leaned forward, resting her chin on his knee. She sighed deeply, pouting her lips out as she thought about it.

“Let me try.” He suggested a second later, figuring that they might be able to work on it together. She nodded as she moved onto the side of the bed with him, guiding him through step by step. It was tedious, but not impossible.

“How did you do that?” She asked in disbelief as she held it up, her jaw dropping as she shook her head in irritation. He chuckled, fairly certain that it didn’t look any different than hers. She was just too hard on herself.

“Magic,” He teased as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against her lips, “Yours looks very nice.” He complimented, watching as she lightly pressed her fingers against the edge of the bow. She looked at it happily before she placed it on top of one of the boxes.

“How many of those do you think you can make?” She asked him seriously, eyes slightly narrowed as if she was challenging. He paused for a moment, sure that the ribbon could become useful in another way.

“Hmm,” He smirked at her, “I know what we could use it for. It would be fun.” He suggested as he wiggled her eyebrows. She nodded her head along as she continued to organize the decorations, like she wasn’t even listening.

“What?” She asked when he lightly pulled her hair, gaining her attention as she looked at him with confusion in her eyes. He thought that she was cute when she was confused.

He linked their fingers together, slowly tugging her up onto her feet. She wrinkled her eyebrows together, looking at him thoughtfully as he pressed his fingers against the button of her jeans.

“Undress.” He demanded as he pulled a smirk onto his lips. She blinked slowly, like she didn’t quite process what he was telling her to do.

“Excuse me?” She asked as she tilted her head, laughing as he unsnapped the button to her jeans. She parted her lips and gave him a slow nod, like she was catching on to what he was wanting from her.

“Just trust me,” He smirked at her, “C’mon. Just do it.” He told her seriously, watching to see her all wrapped up with that pretty ribbon on her skin. It would be wasted on a present anyway.

“I think we’ve done this before.” She reminded him playfully, but listened to what he said. He leaned back against the bed, greedily drinking in the image of her stripping out of her clothes. Layer by layer. He was still just as fascinated with her soft curves, the pink freckles that decorated her pale skin, her perky tits. He enjoyed all of her.

“Not like this,” He huffed, “Just turn around.” He smacked her ass, earning a yelp from her before she listened once again. She giggled as she pushed her hair out of her face, his hands rough against the curve of her ass.

“You’re bossy today,” She repeated, grinning softly, “Maybe on the grouchy side.” She added playfully as she glanced back at him, fluttering her eyelashes sweetly. He cupped her chin softly, dipping down to connect their lips.

She tasted like sugar, her lips sweet and smooth as he dragged his lips against her own. She met him greedily, parting her mouth and licking inside of his mouth. He groaned at the sensation, feeling it rush to his hardening cock.

“This’ll make me feel better.” He promised her, holding onto her waist as he slowly brought them to the floor. She bit her lip as she glanced back at him, holding her arms out so he could begin wrapping the ribbon around her.

In all honesty he had no idea what he was doing, or how it would look. But he really didn’t care about that. He just wanted to see the sparkly red material against her skin, wanted to make her glow. So he worked delicately, trying to get it as neat as possible.

He was quite proud of his handiwork when he was finished. Some parts were messy, but for the most part he managed to get her boobs covered well enough. He left a little gap between, just enough that her soft pink nipples could poke out.

He had tied it back towards her hands after, keeping them behind her back so she was reliant on him. He pushed her hair out of the way as he dragged his lips across the corner of her neck, kissing softly as her chest rose and fell sharply.

“You always look so pretty,” He hummed in appreciation as he brought his knuckles across her abdomen, earning goosebumps from her in the process, “Such a good girl for me.” He smirked, giving her neck a little nip before he moved her around roughly.

She squeaked at the feeling of her hands being yanked further behind her back, tugging her into place on her knees. She bit her bottom lip, the corners of her lips twitching like she was trying to keep from smirking.

“How’s it feel?” He asked her as he leaned over her, enjoying the electricity that buzzed between their bodies. He leaned forward, licking her lips slowly.

“S’nice,” She moaned at the feeling, keeping her lips parted like he might repeat his actions. He wanted to, but he enjoyed teasing her more. Something drove him crazy about the way her body flushed, how her eyes filled with lust and her expression turned into something carnal. It was almost too much for him, left him wanting to scoop her up and devour her completely, “I want you.” She whispered softly, eyes filled with lust and want.

“Hm?” He teased as he reached down between her parted legs, rubbing his fingers across her folds gently, “Fuck. You’re soaked. Slut.” He hissed softly, using his free hand to pull himself free from his layers. He needed her badly.

“Can’t help it,” She whimpered as she wiggled her hips back at him, making him smirk at how needy she was, “Please, Billy. Wanna feel your cock so badly.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” He teased as he pressed the tip of his cock against her slick hole. He gave himself a little stroke before he pushed forward, enjoying the feeling of her cunt stretching around his cock, “Fuck. That’s it, pretty girl.”

Her walls were thick and smooth around his girth, soaking his length as he slid in inch by inch. Each little gasp from her lips encouraged him, motivated him to be as deep within her as possible. He grunted as he gripped her hips, his cock throbbing at the feeling of her cunt inviting him in deeper.

“So good,” She huffed already, whimpering as she tried to turn her head back to look at him. He smirked as his balls pressed against her skin, then thrust into her deeper to earn a croon from her, “Right there. Oh God.” She sighed deeply as he stayed there for a moment, allowing them both to savor the feeling of one another.

He licked his bottom lip as he slowly pulled out, remaining about halfway inside her pussy before he slammed back in fully. His grunts molded with her moans, filling the room in a sinful melody as he wrapped his fingers around the ribbon that restrained her hands.

“You like that?” He teased as he began a slow rhythm, groaning as he admired the way her cunt swallowed his thick cock. She felt incredible around him, better than anyone else had. And he knew that no one would ever compare, “Such a dirty little whore. Taking my cock so well.” He praised as he rocked into her deeply again, using his free hand to smack the side of her ass.

She yelped from the sensation, her toes curling as he continued to drag his cock in and out of her pretty cunt. He closed his eyes as he let himself get lost in the sensation of her soaked cunt, enjoying the tight way she squeezed around him.

“Billy,” She moaned louder as the sound of her cunt squelching around his cock grew, “So good. Mhm, more. I’m close.” She spit out roughly, mindlessly, trying to grind back against his cock. He grunted as he loosened her grip, watching the way her body moved against his.

“Fuck, Kim,” He grunted as he continued to rut his hips forward, desperately needing to feel more of her. He could feel his muscles clenching, burning as his own high was approaching, “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

She whined as he gripped her wrists tightly again, beginning to drag her back against the curve of his cock even rougher. She whimpered and moaned, the palms of her feet slapping against the floor as her high came crashing down around her.

He grunted loudly as her pussy clamped down around his cock, squeezing him roughly as she leaked all over the length of him. He kept the same deep rhythm, pushing into her rougher to make her cry out a little more, her tone a little higher pitched. He was close. Right on the edge.

She whimpered as she rocked her hips backwards, pressing him in even deeper as he felt his high crashing over him. He grunted while digging his fingertips into her hips, holding onto her flesh tightly as he came deep inside of her cunt.

He fell forward as he felt her walls throbbing around him, soaking his cock in her cum as his heart raced roughly inside of his chest. He groaned as he held onto her tightly, keeping her from crashing onto the floor as she panted in his arms.

“Mhm,” She giggled softly, cheeks flushed as she looked back at him, “You’re too much.” She teased, hazel eyes twinkling in appreciation. He snorted. This was nothing compared to other things that they had done.

“You wanna use a candy cane next time?” He asked her playfully, giving her a little reminder as he began to unwrap her wrists. She gasped, like she was horrified at the thought.

“Oh no,” She said as she sat up, looking at him incredulously, “No candy near my goods again. Ever.” She giggled, biting her lip as he slowly pulled himself out of her leaking cunt. He admired the mixture of them for just a moment before he met her eyes again.

“That was pretty bad.” He admitted as he thought about it, thinking about how young and stupid they had been once. He wouldn’t change anything though. Well, maybe he wished he knew about that.

He pulled her onto the bed, knowing that they could wait to wrap the presents until tomorrow. It was late. And they should rest. And just maybe he’d get lucky and get another round with her. That sounded well too.

“You’re telling me.” She giggled, biting her bottom lip as he began to clean her up with some tissues they had nearby. He smiled up at her.

“I suffered too,” He said with a laugh, “What if I put a condom on it?” He asked her seriously, feeling like that would solve their issues. He’d like it.

“Good night, Billy,” She huffed as she leaned over, turning off the lamp light, “Sweet dreams.” He grumbled softly, sure that he would dream about it.

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove x fem!oc #Billy Hargrove x oc #Billy hargrove fluff #Billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fanfic #Billy Hargrove fanfiction #Billy Hargrove imagine #Billy hargrove x original character #Billy hargrove x female original character #Billy x Kim #Kim Mayfield

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19calicos · 11 months ago

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can you show what everyone's skateboards look like?? please im begging 🙏🏼

anon YES! A MILLION TIMES YES OMG OMG I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT DO THIS YET LMFAO

this will include the skater cat fan club gc & kuroo!

when someone in the gc fucks up their board, they'll buy a plain deck from ace and hand it over to yn so they can practice and go ham with the board. it always turns out super cool, and yn not only paints something dope af on the deck but they'll also customize the grip tape as well, usually by painting on it. they’re not opposed to grip tape cut outs but its tedious work to them

more below! tap on pics to expand bc im lazy as hell. these will cover current boards (let's just say they're all the standard popsicle shape), so there are some nods to small details that i've already written so far. ignore decks that dont look painted lmfao dont think abt any details too hard ok

also none of these images are mine! all of them were gathered from pinterest.

yn's current board! the nose of their old deck got badly chipped after it hit kuroo's head and flew into the corner of some wall, and it wasn't worth it to try fixing it so they bought a basic black deck, yanked the aux cord from suna, and went ham with the board. they were really nervous about if they were going to fuck up the thermal hands or not, but obv it turned out fine. suna wrote the "overthinking will fucking kill you" text on the nose of the new board and ended up totally shredding the posca marker he used for it

suna's board is pretty old in comparison to everyone else's – he snaps the least amount of decks (but to be fair, everyone can only afford cheap ones at this time). red is his favorite color so yn has made sure to incorporate it into all his decks that they get their hands on. they also wrote his name on the grip tape (ignore how it doesnt actually say suna) for funsies since they wanted to practice a new font

wanted a domo board SO bad after he and samu went home for a weekend and helped their dad clean out the garage. he found his and samu's old domo hats and could not stop thinking about a domo board. his board at the time was fine and everything too but once he was back in tokyo he bought a pink board (the brown one looked too much like shit bc he stared at it too hard) and presented the idea to yn ...... obv they said yes. they threw in the poser text on his grip tape for funsies lolol they wanted to try out the thrasher fire font

no grip tape paint for samu bc yn was practicing the spider web grip tape cut out on his board. usually yn paints on grip tape but mattsun was commissioning yn at the time and sent them a vid of some guy doing web grip tape on a board. yn figured it was easy enough but they still wanted to use samu's new deck as a guinea pig. he was fine with it and to make up for possibly messing it up, yn brainstormed something extra cool to paint on his deck. samu is considering displaying this one since this one is extra cool

noya snapped his last deck clean in half from skating on rails lmfao. he and yn watched spirited away the night it happened so that's where the no face on the nose comes from. he goes through the most decks out of everyone bc he's always attempting some crazy ass rail trick. coincidentally he works the most shifts at ace since he's gotta pay for these decks somehow

kuroo has accumulated two boards so far: his first one that yn picked out at ace (shown above) and the one that yn made for him at community day. he's not planning on skating with the second one for preservation reasons. after finding out that yn designs decks though, he asked if they could customize his somehow, so they doodled gir (in disguise) from invader zim, one of kuroo's favorite tv shows as a kid.

bonus!

ukai doesn't skate as often anymore, but sometimes, if he's at ace, he'll join a sesh right after ace closes for the day. yn designed this board for his birthday last year, and he usually keeps it on display in the shop since it's one of yn's best works. it was definitely a process for them to make and took a lot of experimentation, but it paid off and is one of their best performing decks on their socials

#ikwtl bonus!#posting as an apology for not being able to update ikwtl for the past while #i've hit a block and written myself into a hole so #i'll get my spark back soon hopefully lol

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parab0mb · 1 year ago

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So, now that I finished the game (again) and the DLC chapters, I'm going to ramble about Crosscode C:

This game is really bizarre in the sense that, to be completely 100% honest, there isn't any particular part of the game that I think is all that mind-blowing. But all the individual elements (heh) of the game come together so well that the resulting product ends up being so much stronger and memorable than the sum of its parts.

Like, most indie games have one or several notable flaws or shortcomings (and understandably so) but this game is such an airtight experience that I can't help thinking about it and just being like "the how HECK is this game so GOOD?!"

...I am of course just getting started, I've got a wall of text of things I liked and thought were just "meh" under the 'keep reading' if you're interested (you've been warned (also spoilers obviously)):

The combat is definitely one of the strongest elements of the game and probably one of my personal favorites; its brutally difficult and sometimes feels like bullshit (and maybe there is one or two instances where it actually is just bullshit) but once you get the hang of it is really is flashy and satisfying and makes you feel badass to pull off. Plus its got the whole easy to learn, hard to master thing going on (like most of it is just charging SP and pressing the space bar, but knowing what moves to use and when def play into things).

I dunno how much of a hot take this is, but I really liked the puzzles in this game! I won't deny that they can sometimes drag on and interrupt the pacing of a temple, but personally I didn't mind. And just like the combat they're so well constructed that, while you'll spend minutes staring blankly reminded that you're a simple-minded creature and that the human mind wasn't made for this and you should be foraging for mushrooms in the woods and risking death over your next meal, they rarely feel impossible to solve without having to resort to a playthrough and are really satisfying to finally figure out (not to brag but there was exactly one puzzle in the game where I had to look up the solution and another where I did solve it on my own but then looked it up cause I thought I cheesed it by mistake). At first I wasn't a huge fan of how fast/precise you have to be for some puzzles on top of just finding out the solution in the first place, but after a while you kinda get used to it (and there is an option to slow things down which is really nice of the devs to include).

The story is... pretty alright. Yeah. I honestly don't have much to say about it. Bit of a slow pace, does the job, and has it's share of twists and emotional moments, but the narrative itself doesn't really do anything mind-blowing either so... you know. I definitely think it's the characters themselves that are memorable and prop up an otherwise average story. I mean every single one of them is just the hugest goober and even characters who initially seem forgettable or one-dimensional end up subverting your expectations and being super endearing/compelling/layered. Oh yeah, and Lea is a character that can only say like 10 words and SHE DESERVES THE WORLD I WOULD KILL FOR H-

Also, since the DLC is brand new to me I do wanna say that the ending was the tiniest bit underwhelming. Like you break into Vermillion Wasteland, fight a (surprisingly easy) boss, and that's... just it. Like 20 minutes top. I dunno, it feels like... something was missing. Still thoroughly enjoyed the entire thing and it is nice for the cast to get their happy ending (not quite as emotionally impactful as the base game's end imo, but still great and I'm glad they gave us more time with these dorks).

The platforming and navigating the overworld is tedious, which sucks a bit since that makes up a good chunk of the game. Idk man, having to scale different elevations of platforms is made frustrating by the fixed camera and the fact that the different "levels" of platforms aren't distinct from each other at all, so its easy to get duped by the perspective and jump to something you can't actually reach (yes you can use projectiles to check but it still isn't fun). Even without everything blending into each other visually, trying to find which obscure paths from four rooms ago will bring you to a chest just isn't all that enjoyable (some of the later maps like Sapphire Ridge were okay though, if only cause they started to have actually interesting puzzles to do). Basically they're just... there, between the actually fun stuff.

The trading system and farming for resources is confusing and kind of a chore. That's all I got.

Guess I'll touch on the art/music since I don't have too much to say about them. To be perfectly honest I'm not actually super crazy about the artstyle (blasphemy!), but I won't deny that the sprite-work and overall aesthetic are still super-well done, even if they aren't my personal taste (tl;dr I'm neutral on it). The soundtrack isn't something I'd put on my phone and listen to in the car, but like the art it's still well-made and perfectly suits the mood of/drives the emotional impact of the game, and there are still a handful of standout bangers (Lea's theme will live rent-free in my brain of course).

One last thing I'll say (that I mentioned before) is that as fun as this game is, it feels like a commitment to get through at times. Even when I first played it and had more free time, sometimes this game just felt "imposing" to pick back up after a break. Idk its hard to describe, but at least for me it was hard to play any other games alongside this (especially with my limited free time) which kinda sucked a bit.

To wrap things up, if I had to give the game an arbitrary number rating, I have to give Crosscode a 0/10 because its an indie game that doesn't have a fishing game (smh honestly how could they make such an obvious mistake 😔).

#like I said I don't have any super deep analyses of the characters or the game to offer #just wanted to ramble about THE EXPERIENCE and what I thought this game did fantastically and slightly less fantastically #ya know #while i still got the brainrot #also reading what I wrote kinda makes me sound more critical of the game than I really am #i do wanna be clear that a lot of this is just me nitpicking #even the “worst” stuff in the game (*cough* the overworld) is still solid #also opinions #crosscode spoilers #crosscode #ramblings #long post #game review (i guess)

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withlovefromsimtown · 2 years ago

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Get to know you- Sims Style

I got tagged by @12raben & would like to procrastinate cleaning my entire house for Thanksgiving, so here we are.

What’s your favorite Sims death?

Run With Scissors! It was available on the official Sims 2 site wayyy back in the day & is now located Here (link)

Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

Can't it be both? Realistically this is one of those that just doesn't apply to Sims 2, because almost all of the BG hairs are made of alpha panels & so is the lace on the bottom of the BG silk nightgown. But yes to improved & later-EP Maxis textures.

Do you cheat your sims weight?

If I have a specific outfit I want them in, & the outfit doesn't have a fatmorph or has one that breaks through the top/bottom of the outfit, sure. Until the next time I close the game, at least... adding & fixing fatmorphs is stupid easy, resisting the urge to throw out the clothing & create a whole new wardrobe is very hard. Then I'll cheat it back if I remember the next time I load the game.

Do you move objects?

Yes.

Favorite Mod?

ACR (link).

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

Either Livin' Large or House Party. I wanna say House Party because that was the one that had celebrities come to your house for a good party, right?

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

I've actually never said the words "live mode" out loud. I could see both being accurate. aLIVE. Like "go live" in software terms, they are software that is becoming operational. Or LIVing... Build/Buy/Live, as the actions that you as the player are taking in the game. I would probably swap back & forth if I was ever forced to talk about it using the words "live mode".

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

Oh nooo... I don't often make my own Sims, but use premades or recreations of Sims from different games... so... Goopy Gilscarbo.

Have you made a simself?

Yep! Sim-Me helps facilitate photoshoots in games that I'm playing, since my house is located outside of time in terms of the game. (Any unpaused action while there is another playable Sim on the 111 Lifa Lane lot is not saved lol). I also like to play around in my Sim house to figure out redecorating & rearranging ideas for my IRL house.

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

(sarcasm) Piss Yellow. (/sarcasm) For real though I like Pooklet colors.

Favorite EA hair?

M&G stupid anime hair lol. Although I also like a few of the store hairs (link)

Favorite life stage?

Everything but Baby. I'm so glad that Baby only lasts a day in the unmodded game, they're little screaming larval annoyances. I love the little mischievous things that the Toddlers can get into, like playing in the toilet, hugging the pets, & stealing bottles from their siblings. I think the Child anims for everyday activities are sooo cute, like when they whip out the step stool to put away dishes or brush their teeth, or sitting on books to play Chess. Teen Wants can be a bit annoying but they're chaotic in a fun way, like sliding down the stair rails & playing on the fridge door. YA is a good age stage even if college is kinda tedious, specifically because they're super resilient & have a ton of freedom & very few responsibilities. Adult, well, that's most of the game, isn't it? If I hated Adults I probably never would've played at all. Elders, even when retired, can be really sweet especially if you have them in close friendships & group homes - it can be pretty chill to hang out in the retirement home lot for an afternoon watching Sims play Myshuno & Mahjong.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

Both!

Are you a CC creator?

...If I said "no" would literally anyone here believe me? (Yes. Yes I am.)

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

Sure do!

Do you have any sims merch?

Official merch? No.

Do you have a YouTube for sims?

I've thought about making one, & have been asked to make one... but not currently no.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

I'm more into making neutral & basic things now; I used to be VERY Hot Topic type of vibes. I mean, I still am that way, but most of my Sims are normies because for the most part it doesn't make sense to park Grandpa in the goth club in all of the old ClubCrimsyn outfits, ya know?

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

There are so many it would be hard to list them all! Just the fact that everyone who currently creates CC is still around making things for this ancient game is amazing to me.

How long have you had Simblr?

Over 10 years? I think I got on Tumblr in like 2010 or so, & it was specifically to publicly post gameplay pics to a small group of friends.

How do you edit your pictures?

I crop it in Photoshop & then slap text on it. You've seen my CC preview pics, I'm not doing anything fancy.

What expansion/ gamepack is your favorite?

Nightlife! I mean, come on... Spooky haunted house, vampires, cars, bowling, karaoke, restaurants, & ALSO the goth club? Sign me up.

Tagging: No tags just vibes, if you feel up to it you can join in the fun.

#sort of sims related #ask memes

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art-of-manliness · 1 year ago

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The Butler’s Book: How to Create the Instruction Manual For Your Home

Because of the coincidental confluence of two books coming into my life at the same time — Home Comforts: The Art and Science of Keeping House by Cheryl Mendelson and Economics by Aristotle — I’ve been thinking a lot about household management this year. Part of that reflection has been philosophical. I’ve contemplated the Greek idea of household management, what they called oikos, and how the way you take care of your home has a deeper importance than is normally thought and can set the foundation for eudaimonia or flourishing. Part of that reflection has also been practical. In our 19 years of marriage, Kate and I have done a pretty decent job running our household. We largely keep our home clean, tidy, and well-maintained, our family organized, and our budget in balance. But there’s always room for improvement, and I’ve been looking for ways to become a better householder. One such improvement presented itself when I interviewed Charles MacPherson, a former professional butler, for the podcast. MacPherson recommended creating a tool that’s part of every top-notch butler’s arsenal: the Butler’s Book. The Butler’s Book: The Instruction Manual For Your Home Back in Victorian times, the Butler’s Book was where the butler kept all the information about the household: staff and maintenance schedules, inventory of china and silverware, food preferences, measurements for clothing, etc. Today, butlers or household managers of wealthy households have something similar to a Butler’s Book; they just call it “a household procedures manual.” A modern-day butler uses a household procedures manual to keep track of all the contractors used to maintain the home, information about the utilities, inventories of possessions and supplies, and maintenance schedules of major appliances. Many of these books will also have emergency preparedness protocols as well as instructions on how to plan and execute parties and dinners. After I learned about the Butler’s Book, I wanted to create my own. One of the main issues I’ve run into with managing my home is that I’m always doing a kind of scavenger hunt to find information about household issues: * Where’s the main sewer line access again? * Who do I call to fix the Trane furnace? What about the Carrier one on the other side of the house? * When did we replace those windows, and who did it? * Do we still have Sternos left from the last party to use at the upcoming one? A Butler’s Book helps you stay on top of these kinds of questions and everything else you need to know and do to run your home efficiently. Instead of spinning your wheels trying to find where things are, throwing away money repurchasing something you didn’t remember you already had, and wasting time figuring out who to call to fix a problem, you just turn to your Butler’s Book. I looked online to see if there were any digital services you could use to create a Butler’s Book for your home. There are quite a few household management apps out there, but I found them to be clunky and overwhelming to use. They all try to do way too much. You can track your appliances, manage home maintenance schedules, pay your kids’ allowance, manage your family schedule, and keep track of your meal prep. Too much! I also didn’t like having to tappity-tap stuff into the platform on my smartphone keyboard. That’s so tedious. MacPherson recommended creating a physical version of a Butler’s Book, and seeing the wisdom in that suggestion, that’s what I did. I like it because I can customize it with the info I want. I also like how easy it is to access. I just pull it out and flip to the page I need. Don’t discount the advantage of tactile information that you can physically heft! While many Butler’s Books/household procedure manuals discuss standard operating procedures for running the household (e.g., how to open the pool), I wanted my Butler’s Book to mainly contain information about all the major systems and appliances in my home. That’s it. I’ve broken my Butler’s Book into… http://dlvr.it/T9MwfL

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cyle · 3 years ago

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Yo what's identities

tl;dr: it's my internal codename for a very ambitious project to fix all of the issues with primary and secondary blogs on tumblr. the project is not actually in flight right now, it's been on the shelf for years.

gs;wm:

as you probably know, and lots of tumblr users know, primary and secondary blogs are pretty confusing. you can only like/reply as your primary, you can only make a secondary/sideblog private or have more than one member, but you can reblog and post and send messages as your secondaries, etc etc. the logic table of what you can do per blog on your account is weird, to say the least. we get feedback about this all the time.

this is a holdover from how secondary blogs were originally built: they were just tacked on to the existing user model, via your primary blog, at a time when tumblr was growing super fast. behind the scenes, your secondary blogs are the same data model as your primary blog, but the actual relationship they hold is with your primary blog, not with your account. so it's like your secondary blogs are "children" of your primary blog, rather than being siblings, as one would probably build it today if we could do it all over.

and there's a lot, lot, lot of code and plumbing that relies on this assumption, so it's not as simple as just fixing that problem and magically having the ability to like/reply/follow/etc as a sideblog. this stuff is very very old, from the time when tumblr was a blogging network first and not a social network, so it made sense then. it doesn't make sense today, from a product point of view, if you consider tumblr a social network first.

the most basic "fix" for this could be a simple account switcher, like other platforms have, but this wouldn't solve the problem for existing users who have tons of sideblogs they may want to "swap" their primary for, or reply/like as, or whatever. you'd have to make a whole new account, and/or we'd have to do some magic on our end to detach all of your sideblogs and make them into separate accounts for you, which would be pretty jarring.

personally i think that account switcher option is pretty lame: we can do better.

instead of an account switcher, i think it'd be much more interesting to be able to "act as" any of your blogs within the same interface, kind of like how fast reblogging lets you quickly choose which blog you're reblogging to. messaging lets you pick which blog you're sending as when you start a new conversation. why not have the same option when long-pressing on the like button? or the follow button? or the block button? there's some discoverability to figure out here for sure, but it's surmountable.

and this leads to some other interesting potential changes to how someone could use tumblr via multiple proper blogs, like having a different dashboard per blog. different set of likes per blog. a more straightforward way to break apart how you curate your experience on tumblr. easy to just throw away your old blog when you wanna restart, without having to make a whole new account. hence, you'd be able to have "identities", rather than a primary blog and sideblogs.

sounds neat, right? i think so. but it's a fair amount of work to get this done. a lot of untangling has to happen. it's totally doable, it's just tedious. some of the pieces are already in place on the backend, we just haven't picked up the rest of the work. it's hard to prioritize this because, while it sounds neat, the number of people who would actually use it is probably pretty small -- but we'd never know until we try.

anyway, that's identities on tumblr. ✨

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nn-ee-zz · 3 years ago

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Hey nez! Ive DM'd you before and you opened my mind to re-examine how I think of design! My thought process about character design is still a work in progress, so for now I'm trying to just up my technical skills and I have to ask... how tf do you practice/do studies of things and not want to cry? I'm so tired of doing realism studies but when I see your beautiful sketches or inks of characters with beautiful faces and details I wanna learn everything! How do you do it?

Hey!

Studying from reality is important, yes, but unless you want your art to look incredibly realistic there is no need to place high expectations on how close the result looks to your reference. I rarely do realism studies myself.

Before starting a study you have to ask yourself what are you trying to improve. Don't answer 'everything' because it will overwhelm you. Pick something to focus on. If you want to study facial proportions, focus on the face and don't place expectations on how the hair looks like. If you want to study dynamic poses, draw them without bothering much with the accuracy of anatomy. If you want to study rendering, trace your reference (more on that later) and shade it from there.

Doing a study for the sake of a study is tedious and wont bring results just as fast. Now...

HOW I DO STUDIES WITHOUT EMOTIONAL PAIN

-Studies don’t have to be a copy

When I do studies, I oftentimes seek to capture the atmosphere the picture gives off rather than make it as accurately as possible. Here, my focus were facial proportions, meaning the rest could be improvised. I didn’t focus on the hands, nor the hair, nor the clothing, nor the anatomy of the arms/shoulders. Just the face. By making this study I also discovered her eyes are uneven in my drawing... Allow your studies to have mistakes and don’t let them bring you down! Drawing a mistake and recognizing it is a lot more helpful than not drawing anything at all.

-Testing things out is fun

Which artstyle would fit your drawing best? Try it out in your sketchbook! Many times, if needed! Don't overthink sketchy and unfinished lines. If it doesn’t suit you, you can leave it (or finish it later) and move on. This also serves as practice for drawing faces (in my case) and to once again find your mistakes and weak spots. I personally seem to have trouble making even eyes. But now that I noticed it, I can fix it.

-Small and fast

When things are particularly difficult for me, like anatomy or facial proportions, I usually allow myself to make those drawings smaller than usual. It allows you better control. I also draw them fast and don't focus too much on accuracy. With that method I can make many in a short period of time and eventually understand how to better approach it in bigger drawings. This counts more like practice than study, but it’s important.

-Not everything is for social media

It’s easy to make people believe I’ve got it all figured it out! I control what I post and not everything makes it online. Some things are only here as an example, and even behind that content there’s messier work. Don't be discouraged by other artists seemingly beautiful studies. Allow your sketches and studies to be ‘ugly’ sometimes.

-Trace things

Connecting to the point above, these usually shouldn’t be posted on social media. Sometimes when I see a face I like, I re-draw it or trace it. Real or drawn. Below I traced a frame of Milleniunm Acctress from Satoshi Kon. I admire the artstyle a lot. After tracing it, however, I came to the conclusion that while it’s pretty it doesn’t fit the atmosphere I’m looking for. Hence why I redrew it again by myself to the side.

I know tracing is a controversional topic but it’s extremely helpful in studies. Not only will it make you understand the shape better but also allow you to discover what works and doesn’t for the art you want to make.

This one is difficult to recommend for beginner artists, because you’re scared they might become too reliant on it or won’t know where to draw the limit.

Don't post it online (unless you have the permission from the artist)

Don't use the result as base for your own work.

Don't focus on one artist alone (try different approaches from several people)

Don't rely on artworks too much (you might pick up their mistakes)

That seems to be all! Having fun while studying helps a lot to keep your enthusiasm going, so draw characters you like as well. Even if they don't fit the style you want. Put it in your sketchbook and experiment, it counts as a study aswell.

Good luck, hopefully this reply isn't too long!

#ask #art advice #sketches

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xenteaart · 5 years ago

Text

One Faulty Briefcase

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Basically, due to some faulty time-travelling equipment you get separated from Five and end up being stuck in the past on your own. Fun times.

GIF: @jos-march

Note: This is another part of this AU. Five and reader are in their late 20s here. Hope you enjoy! Pure fluff for you during those dark uncertain times

You’ve been stuck in the past alone for two years now. It was the 15th of May 1982; you and Five were just finishing up one of your missions, nothing remarkable, nothing extraordinary. Getting rid of your mark was quite easy, you’d say almost too easy to hope the mission was going to end well.

“Five, I think there’s something wrong with the briefcase,” you pointed out worryingly, eyeing the time-travelling device with suspicion as the two of you were gathering your things around the motel room, getting ready to leave.

“What do you mean?” he asked nonchalantly, paying very little attention to your concern.

“We landed weird. Not like we usually do. I don’t know, something was just off about it,” you replied with a puzzled frown on your face, recognizing that whether you were right or not, the briefcase remained your only way out of the year you didn’t belong in. Five looked the device indifferently and shrugged, not thinking much of it.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for Five to be done with whatever it was he was doing, staring at the goddamn briefcase as if it was alive and plotting against you. It was probably nothing. You didn’t get to have a vacation in so long, always on the go, always busy and tense, it was probably just your exhaustion transforming into paranoia. Maybe, all you needed was a day off.

“Okay, let’s go,” Five’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You simply nodded and got up on your feet before taking a hold of the briefcase and stepping closer to Five so he could put his hand on your shoulder. Using a briefcase wasn’t exactly rocket science - there were very little ways to mess up. None, to be precise. They were programmed to a certain time period by the clerks at the Commission, and all you had to do was push a button, so, clearly, it couldn’t have been you who screwed the time-jump. But something did, and the very second you pushed that button, you felt electricity go through your veins, making you break the contact and let go off the briefcase.The pain that coursed through your system lingered for another twenty seconds, leaving you shaking on the floor and breathing through what felt like a full-body cramp, and when it finally subsided, you looked around and realized you were still in the motel room in 1982, except Five was gone and nowhere to be seen along with the briefcase.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” you whispered to yourself, your eyes wide open in disbelief that you were actually right to be worried.

The damned briefcase was your only chance to get home. Well, you didn’t really have a home per se but even the flat the Commission provided you and Five with, despite the fact that you barely got to spend any time there with your never ending trips across the timeline, seemed like a better option than being stranded in the past completely on your own.

“Fuck.”

You had no better option other than to wait for Five to show up but with each passing day your hope and patience were wearing thinner and thinner.

There were only two reasons as to why it’s been two years and you still haven’t heard from him - he either just didn’t care about you which was quite unlikely or he was in some sort of trouble himself. Some days you felt very optimistic, knowing full well that Five would never just leave you nor would he give up on trying to reach you, other days anxiety and solitude weren’t doing you any favors, making you believe it was how you were going to live out the rest of your life. In the year that you didn’t belong, doing things that weren’t yours to do, sleeping in a bed that wasn’t yours to sleep in. The most difficult part was living through each day completely clueless about when it was going to end or if it was to end at all.

For the first few days you stayed at the motel, waiting for Five and still full of hope. Thankfully, you had enough cash on you to cover a week's stay. But on the seventh day you woke up and it suddenly dawned on you. You had to go and make a life for yourself because you were staying.

It wasn’t exactly easy since people barely cared about your circumstances, dismissing you like they dismissed any other homeless person. You were invisible to them, just another nuisance with a story they didn’t have time for.

As soon as you completely exhausted your resources and didn’t even have lunch money, you had to spend a few days living on the streets. Sure, being a professional assassin was a relative advantage on your side but you didn’t want to spill any unnecessary blood and only used your skills for mild robberies up until you landed a job at some cafe.

You thought it was a nice change since you were never exactly happy with working for the Commission in the first place. Serving meals and talking to customers felt like a much needed vacation - the job was simple and almost relaxing, especially compared to a job of a hitman. Being a waitress, however, didn’t bring you nearly as much money as you needed to cover your rent so you still robbed occasionally, always making sure no one got hurt.

Five crash landed in some dark alley, even though mere seconds ago it was noon. The briefcase became too hot to the touch, so hot it was painful to hold it, so Five hissed and let go of it instantly. It didn’t explode like he expected it to which was really good news, it meant it was still working but obviously needed fixing.

Luckily, Five Hargreeves was a bit of a genius so he was bound to make things right eventually. But for now he was also thrown off the original course, landing just a few years later, in 1990.

The Commission didn’t seem to care about the accident much. Of course, they could send another agent to scoop you both and bring you back safely but you were nothing but tiny cogs in a grand machine, and you were replaceable. Watching you two on an Infinite Switchboard, the Handler lit her cigarette with a sinister giggle, curious about how you were going to figure it out. She would probably help you if there was some out-of-the-ordinary case that she’d need Five to take but for now everything was rather peaceful, tedious even, and the Handler fancied some entertainment. Plus, any agent could take the job she had planned for you both, so there was truly no hurry.

As soon as Five found a safe place with no one around to distract him, he began fiddling with the wires inside the briefcase, hectically remembering everything he’d learned about them in Orientation. There was no easy fix to this and he was probably going to need some time to come up with the solution but he already had a few options in mind so it was time to get started.

It was a slow lazy Sunday and you were already at work, all dressed up in your uniform and in an unreasonably good mood. Maybe it was the sun outside that made you a little happier and a titch more oblivious to your circumstances or maybe you actually enjoyed living a normal mundane human life, or maybe it was both. Either way, you felt pretty alright for someone who got stranded in the past with no chance of seeing the person they loved the most.

The place you worked at was usually pretty crowded on Sundays, so you had barely any time to be reflecting on your life, too busy running around with plates and drinks in your hands.

One of the hit songs started playing on the radio and you couldn’t help but dance to the happy tunes that felt so appropriate for the warm bright day outside.

“Come on, don’t let me down this time,” Five whispered, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and wiping away a few drops of sweat from his forehead. He took a few seconds to assess his work, making sure he didn’t miss anything and the briefcase was all done and ready. Needless to say, he’s tried contacting the Commission numerous times by this point but all he got in response was silence, so he gave up on that idea eventually and tried to repair the device on his own.

Five pushed the button.

This time, the landing was even rougher than before, quite literally making him smash into the hard unwelcoming asphalt and split his eyebrow. But he did land somewhere so it could probably count as progress.

Your shift was coming to an end as the city was slowly immersing into the pink colors of the evening sky. As Five entered the cafe, you were still waltzing between the tables almost carefree, mouthing the lyrics of some random song and moving to its beats like no one was watching. He recognized you right away, your posture, moves and physique too familiar to overlook. You’ve spent more than ten years together, after all.

When you finally noticed him just standing in the middle of the hall, your heart dropped and so would the plates you were holding if you hadn’t been quick enough to catch them. You froze for a good ten seconds, staring Five right in the eye, too scared to believe it was actually him and not your imagination playing tricks on you. As you put the plates down on a nearby table with a loud bang, you ran towards Five and squeezed him in a deadly tight hug, almost making him lose his balance.

“What the fuck, Five,” you said with a gasp of relief, your words half muffled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, “How did you find me?”

“What? I didn’t. I just popped in for a coffee before looking for you,” he uttered, frowning. Only as you pulled away, you finally noticed that Five was still wearing his work suit, and the stains on the fabric were a clear giveaway that it was the very same suit he was wearing on the day you two got separated, “Wait. Why is your hair so long? And what are you doing here?”

Now you were both confused. Properly confused.

“What?”

“What?” he mirrored your tone, still gazing at you as if he was solving a riddle. And then it hit him. “What year is this?”

“1984. It’s been two years.”

“No, it hasn’t.” and it was true for Five, it’s been less than a week in his timeline, so he either miscalculated the jump or the briefcase’s navigation system was more corrupt than he had anticipated.

“Yes, it has, smartass, look around,” the words came out a lot more snappy than you would have liked, and you took a deep breath, then wrapping your arms around Five again and pulling him closer, clearly reluctant to ever let go just in case.

“Not sure if I want to attempt getting us back with that nonsense of a briefcase but we’re both here now so that’s good news,” he muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head a little as he returned your hug and held you close. You smiled weakly and chuckled, giving him a quiet “yeah” in response.

Five’s body was warm against yours, and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath at the realization of how much you’ve missed him. He rested his hands on your waist in a protective manner and simply stood there, letting you enjoy the embrace as the entire cafe was silently staring at the pair of you with utmost confusion and almost fascination.

“You know what that means, though?” you asked quietly, unable to resist a smug grin.

“Hm?”

“I am now four years older than you instead of two.”

“Oh, God. I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” he rolled his eyes in response as he was gently rubbing your back in calming circles.

“Nope.”

The consequences for the Handler were going to be disastrous because Five was already getting about a dozen ideas on how to make her pay for her inaction and there was no force on planet Earth that could stop him.

a little sequel to this fic here

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x you #tua fic #The Umbrella Academy #five hargreeves #number five #my fic #my writing #five x reader

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siriusheadspace · 5 years ago

Text

august - sirius black x muggle!reader

Warnings: I guess it's a bit angsty? But it's also cute, summer love fluff, so idk

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Summary: You meet a cute boy in your summer job. You share secrets and live a beautiful summer love, but will you still see each other once school starts again? Inspired by "august", by Taylor Swift.

A/N: Thank you so so so so much for liking my last fic, illicit affairs! I guess I'll have to create a master list here lol. This one's a bit less gloomy and there's *sequel potential*, so please tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! Also, should I open requests? Do you guys have any? lol. I'm taking too long in this A/N, so lemme shut up. Enjoy the fic!

Words: 3.5k ish

Salt air And the rust on your door I never needed anything more

You were chewing the pen cap while at an especially tedious English Literature class. A head full of luscious black hair poked through the door, and you jumped in your chair, thinking for a second it could be the person you missed the most. But, of course, it was just a girl asking the teacher to make a class announcement. You tuned out immediately and let the memories flood through your mind. It was just the beginning of summer and your first day at an ice cream parlor in the middle of London. It was a funny neighbourhood - you didn't know why, but it always had a couple of people wearing the weirdest outfits, like weird flowy capes and tunics. But that wasn't really important - you just wanted to make a little money of your own this summer, and the ice cream gig was supposed to be easy. You quickly found out it wasn't as easy as it should be, since the owner decided to leave you to be cashier and server from the start, leaving you alone on your first day after little training. You were stressed, trying to guess if the ice cream machine was supposed to be that noisy or if you already broke it after only a few customers, when someone got in. Sirius regretted everything about spending the summer with his family. He was fifteen going on sixteen and decided to spend most of his days roaming through London, looking for a way to have a halfway decent summer, sending letters to his friends every day. He was about to go spend the day at the Diagon Alley, but he figured he could actually try to see different stuff for the day. Muggle stuff. Perhaps get a couple of new posters for his bedroom? That would piss off his mother. He smiled at the thought. But it was too damn hot for the beginning of summer, and he definitely wore too much black for his comfort under the scolding, rare sunshine. His locks of dark hair were starting to get wet with sweat, and he decided to put his muggle money to good use when he went by an ice cream parlor. He was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen, her hair in a lazy, long braid, her skin tanned and glowing, and her brows frowned as if she was bothered to see him. And you'd never forget how pleasantly surprised you were to see the tall guy that just went inside the store. You'd never be able to forget the way that there was something else about him - he was gorgeous, his long strides revealing from far away how tall he was, his hair pulled back in a makeshift bun - but there was just more, an aura that made him magnetic; magic, you first though instinctively, but shook the thought. Charisma, perhaps. But you'd soon found out it was his own particular mix of both. The bell started ringing and pulled you away from your memories.

Whispers Of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

While you walked through the corridor, you felt the rush of excitement you'd always feel when you remembered you knew a secret, one so special no one would believe you, even if you told them. "You must know something about me, doll", he said, cuddling with you on your bed in the middle of the afternoon, your parents still away at work. You ended up quitting the job pretty quickly after your first day, but you were making good use of your free afternoons. "What, babe?", you said, and you felt his smirk against the top of your head, where his lips were, him breathing in your scent. You liked to use gauche pet names as much as he did. "That you're not the smartest, since it's very stupid for us to cuddle in the middle of a hot afternoon? Or that you're actually really smart, but just enjoy being around me anyway?", you joked. "How very funny of you. I am actually kind of smart, I swear", he said, jokingly, but you felt him tense up as he started talking again. "It's sort of a serious thing, actually", he said. "A… Sirius thing, you mean?", you joked again, but he brushed it off with a quick laugh. "You would know if you'd let me finish speaking", he said, and you waited. He got up and seemed nervous, not sure what to do with his hands. You never saw him like this. "Do you know how you always ask me how do I do a few things? Like, how did I fix the vase I broke the first time I came here so perfectly?" he asked, and you nodded. "You said you got another one", you squinted your eyes, trying to guess where he was going. "On the same day? Y/N, I want to be close to you, to be truthful to you. And I can't do that if you don't know about such a huge part of my life", he said. "I have… certain… habilities. And my family does, too. And my friends, as well. The school I go to… Everyone has these abilities", he completed, and pulled out a stick from his backpack. No, not a stick - not by the way he held it, with purpose. You looked for the right word in your head. A wand. "Can I trust you with the biggest secret humanity has?", he asked, and you nodded. "You can trust me with anything and everything", you said. And nothing was ever the same.

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time

You missed him so much your entire body ached; the feeling of his callous fingertips against your cheeks, the pressure of lips on yours, how his tongue felt against yours, his laughter tickling your skin… You had to stop thinking about him. It was no good and absolutely useless. It was good while it lasted, but it was over. Still, walking home, you couldn't stop thinking about how it was once you were in on the secret, how he'd do magic in front of you, how he would tell you all about Hogwarts, about his friends… And you knew back then that there wasn't a place for you in that world.

'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

You could remember the warm nights you spent together, once your parents decided to spend a weekend away, visiting friends or your grandparents, and how you had to pretend to be sleeping over a friend's house while you had Sirius over. You would meet at a pub, and he'd charm someone into selling you beers, so you would drink together, just enough to feel buzzed. Sirius loved teasing you. He would start by just brushing his knee against yours, but as the alcohol got to the both of you, he would get bolder, running his fingers up and down your thigh under your flimsy summer dress, whispering sweet nothings against your ear, kissing your neck. You felt so much joy, basking in his attention and his carresses. The walk to your house would always take longer than it should. He was the most sociable creature, making quick friends with everyone that grabbed his eye. He would help an old lady carry her groceries to her apartment, completely out of your way back home, while charming her; there was the time where he joined a deep conversation about bikes with a guy that had one, this huge black Harley Davidson, convincing the guy to let the two of you, clearly tipsy teenagers, to have a ride on it. It took Sirius five minutes to figure out the basics of riding that bike and convincing you to join him. "Don't you trust me, baby?", he pouted, and you gave him a quick peck - you couldn't resist his pouts and pleading. "Not with that bike, I don't", you said, watching him already seated at the bike as if it belonged to him. He looked the part, his muggle (the word always bothered you) clothes made him look like the hot, moody guitar player in a rock band, the wind flowing from his side making his hair fly in front of his face. "Then take a little risk", he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. "You can use it as an excuse to feel my abs", he said, and it was your turn to laugh. "Ok, I'm sold", you sighed dramatically, and sat behind him, your hands creeping under his shirt for a moment when you wrapped your arms around him. The speed was more intoxicating than the few beers you had, the wind whipping your exposed skin, the noise violent on your ears, the warmth that came from Sirius' back being the only thing that made you feel safe. Once you gave the bike back to its owner and were back on your foot, you would still take your time on the way there, Sirius listening to stories about your friends, the books you were reading, the movies you were watching - you promised to take him to the movies, shocked to hear that he never set foot on a movie theater. And sometimes, since you would take that long on your way home just to tease each other, he would push a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pull you in for a kiss, your back quickly meeting whatever wall was closer and spending a few minutes against the texture of the tiles while Sirius gave you long, slow kisses, trying to make the most of the night. Once you got home, you would barely have the focus necessary to find the keys and open the door, and Sirius oftenly used magic to make your life easier. "Alohomora", he said, opening the door soon after, and you chuckled. "You sound so hot when you speak fake latin", you said, and he laughed while he followed you inside, quicky going back to kissing you while you tried to guide him to your bedroom. On those nights, after he was fast asleep, his smug expression erased out of his face by sleep, you never thought about how it would be between the two of you once summer was over.

Your back Beneath the sun Wishing I could write my name on it

One week, you decided you would both spend a couple days in Brighton Beach, counting every penny that you had so you could afford two nights in the middle of the week in a cheap bungalow. Sirius had exchanged magical money for muggle money and it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be to get the amount necessary. "Well, my family sucks, but at least my allowance is halfway decent", he smirked, but the smile didn't get to his eyes. "It does help that muggle money is so devalued. Shouldn't you guys complain with your prime minister, or something?", he said, expecting you to go along in the joke as you usually would. But he touched on a subject that you felt it was taboo: he never talked about his family. You knew something was wrong - all the time you spent together was outside or in your house, and he never seemed too keen in having to go back to his parents place. "Is this the moment where you tell me more about your family?", you asked, and he sighed. "It didn't go unnoticed that you felt more comfortable to tell me about actual magic before taking me to meet your mom", you joked, but he knew you meant it. "Oh, Y/N… You could never meet my family. They'd never be able to appreciate you", he told you, and then went on to explain how there's a side of the wizarding world that despises muggles, that values purity of blood before anything else, and it killed you inside, a bit. That you were right in that gut feeling that you tried to ignore. He was too good for you. You didn't belong together. There was a whole part of his society that focused on that. And his family was totally on that side. But you avoided thinking about that in those two blissful nights away. You were close before, but that routine - waking up together, cooking breakfast for each other, seeing him getting letters from his friends delivered by owls that came inside the kitchen of the bungalow as if that was normal. He bought a polaroid in the beggining of summer and tried to adapt it to take magical pictures - according to them, they were supposed to move - but it didn't work. Still, you documented those days in normal polaroids, from candids of him drinking tea in the morning to pictures of you at the beach, and he sent one of you two together to his closest friends, and your heart ached at the thought of part of his world being even the least bit accepting of you. You'd trace random patterns on the skin on his back while he tried to tan, writing your name on him and hoping there would always be a part of him that belonged to you, that would be able to return to you once you were apart, like you did with your favorite toys when you were a kid. A childish desire to keep him with you. You loved your nights out, holding hands while going on rides that were probably unsafe and operated by other teenagers, convincing Sirius to try to win you prizes, and actually getting him a teddy bear - you were a better shot. And he would try to do magic discreetly when you asked him to cook or clean something, and you messed with him for cheating on those chores. It felt like you could absolutely live together forever, making that little bungalow home for those magical hours. You even held his wand, felt the texture of the wood against your fingertips, noticed how it was well used, the parts of it where you could see that his hands touched more oftenly, the worn wood reminding you how he was a part of something that you could only imagine for way longer than he was part of your life and your world. But he soon joked that you were "taking too long playing with his wrong wand", and you'd laugh and kiss him and forget your concerns.

Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinking I had you

You felt the nervousness as the summer approached its inescapable end. As Sirius went out to buy school supplies one afternoon, you couldn't escape the anxiety caused by the uncertainty surrounding your relationship. You just spent the most amazing few months of your life with this guy you absolutely Loved, with a capital L, and you weren't even sure you'd meet again after a few days. You didn't know his address and you couldn't send letters there anyway. You had no idea how to send a letter to Hogwarts. Once you met him at a park near wherever he would buy supplies for a magic school, with him excited to show you what he got and hear about your day, you were already unable to hide the change in your mood. "What's wrong, sweetheart? I was just talking about you with James and..." he said, and he noticed he chose the wrong words when you winced at him. "So you can't even introduce me to your friends that are supposed to be tolerant that you're dating a muggle?", you asked, trying to sound mean, but he could hear how much you were hurting under the façade of anger. "It's not like that, Y/N. There's too many people from Hogwarts there now, people that don't like me or my friends and despise, hum, people like you, and it would be dangerous for you if they knew they could hurt me by messing with you", he explained, but it didn't soothe the pain in your chest. "What is it gonna be like once you're not here, Sirius? Is there a way for us to even talk? I don't own a magic owl, and I don't think the postman is going to able to find Hogwarts", you said, spiteful. "Do you even want to continue this, us? Or are you going to be with people your friends and family can actually know about and meet, that can defend themselves instead of just being a source of weakness for you?", you asked, your voice trembling, all the thoughts you avoided for months taking space and energy, growing inside of you and blurting out. "Y/N..." Sirius started, but you were done for the day. You got up and went home.

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine

You liked being with him too much to waste your last few days together, so you accepted his apologies for not taking you to meet his friends or more of his life, but you couldn't help but notice that he didn't have plans to do what he apologized for not doing. Still, you enjoyed your last few days, the picnics under the last few sunny days of the year, taking him to the movies to watch silly horror movies that Sirius fell in love with, making out with him under the soft movie lights that reflected beautifully on his gray eyes.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

The last night you had together made you nervous. Sirius had prepared himself to go straight from your house back to the station, hiding his luggage on your parents garage and climbing to your window. You drank wine you stole from your parents cabinet and talked in a low voice the entire night - you thought that was what you'd miss the most, just being near him and listening to his voice, to the varying inflections, to the fancy words thats would slip and denounce him as someone from a rich family, to his excitement at the perspective of being back with his friends, and to the low energy tone that followed once he said how much he would miss you. "Hey, I figured out how to keep in touch", he said, a coy smile creeping on his lips. "But I need to know at what time do you get home from school", he completed, and you quirked up a brow. He explained that his owl would bring you a letter from him and wait for you to answer with one of your own, since you didn't have another way of getting to him. You were happy that he found a solution, but it didn't go unnoticed, again, that it seemed like a simple solution that maybe he though about before, but wasn't sure he wanted to go through with you. Also, you'd always be at his mercy and will, having no way of contacting him besides when he wanted to hear from you. But at least there was a way, a chance…

Back when we were still changing for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope…

The next morning, he woke you up at dawn with a quick kiss and said goodbye, promising to contact you again. That was three weeks ago. I mean, you couldn't really blame him. He was beautiful, talented, smart, and everyone knew summer loves weren't forever. He was probably met by a swarm of beautiful witches that would do everything for him. It would be easy to forget about you, your normal, common life. But you felt resentment towards him. He could've just been honest, you thought. He shouldn't have given you hope. He should've been honest about your intentions. He shouldn't have made you act like a fool everytime your classes came to an end, always running home and looking for an owl in the sky, only to be greeted by the emptyness of your silent house. You were getting tired of feeling angry, though. It tarnished your beautiful memories of a perfect summer. You just had to say goodbye to your hopes of getting to see Sirius again, to hear his perfect laughter, always laughing with you and never at you, the ringing in your ear that would send a shiver through your back, or that you'd never feel the silky perfection of his hair tangled between your fingers again… You were trying to come to terms with that, distracted, once you got home. There was an owl on the front window, standing on the window sill. Your heart skipped a beat.

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

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Title: soon you’ll aim up at the sky and I’ll watch you float away Summary: Anakin was by no means falling in any of his classes. No, the issue was that Anakin wasn’t as good as he wanted to be and Obi-Wan did not have the time to read up on Check’chualik’s theory of ‘four-dimensional mathematics within a suspended room of an aircraft’. Or, Obi-Wan doesn't do space math but his Padawan does. AN: New part of my light fix-it AU! Written for @thenegoteator.

There were no words to describe how proud Obi-Wan was of Anakin. His apprentice was growing in leaps and bounds, going from being at the bottom of his classes to rising to the very top within just a few months. His determination and ambition were Anakin’s greatest assets. He trained harder than anyone else Obi-Wan knew – besides himself, maybe, but Obi-Wan was also still in the process of switching fighting styles, so he felt like he deserved to be pushing himself to the edge.

Obi-Wan just also, kind of, hated the fact that Anakin’s final exams aligned so well with his own.

He didn’t mind it too much concerning Anakin’s language classes. Those were easy enough to handle. Anakin resented the various High Standard dialects of any given language and had chosen to study the many trader languages spread across the galaxy. His Ryl was better than Obi-Wan’s own, but he took that good-naturedly and let Anakin run circles around him, reciting Ryl chants. It was Anakin’s third language or so – Obi-Wan didn’t know in what order Anakin had learned which language, but Anakin didn’t seem to be too sure about it either.

He had just said that he used to speak it nearly daily on Tatooine and that had settled it. If Anakin didn’t change his language track, he would probably not end up doing many of the diplomacy missions Obi-Wan usually elected to take, but he didn’t mind that either. Anakin was more well suited for the open skies than pompous dining halls.

Anakin’s literature classes were a bit more of a disaster. He was not particularly fond of interpreting texts. Obi-Wan always enjoyed those lessons most, thinking that engaging in such an exchange with authors of the past was the highest form of evaluating the thoughts of an inaccessible period. Anakin preferred biting conversations with his Master or his friends, the kind of quick wit needed for verbal sparring. While some of Anakin’s replies were not the smoothest yet, the words being more appropriate in Huttese as the boy claimed, he was doing well. He was on his way to becoming a suitable companion for tedious negotiations that made somebody to trade snarky comments in the privacy of their rooms with a necessity.

Galactic history was also about as alright as it could be. Anakin was more interested in the Order’s history than that of the Republic, but those usually went hand in hand, so Anakin could get invested enough in a given topic.

Anakin was by no means falling in any of his classes.

No, the issue was that Anakin wasn’t as good as he wanted to be and Obi-Wan did not have the time to read up on Check’chualik’s theory of ‘four-dimensional mathematics within a suspended room of an aircraft’.

Anakin had said that sentence and a bunch of other very important sounding words while biting his lips in frustration, looking like he was going to start crying in anger any second. Anakin hardly cried, his eyes not even hazing over. Obi-Wan had seen him shed tears maybe once or twice since Anakin had become his apprentice. Anakin called tears a waste and while that was certainly not a mentality Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to keep, he hadn’t quite had the chance yet to address that topic in a meaningful way.

So, instead, he was looking at Anakin’s math paper, sighing.

It really wasn’t like Obi-Wan was going to get any of this. He knew he wouldn’t because he had never taken the elective Theoretical Mathematics of Hyperspace Travel. Obi-Wan took all the courses necessary to get his piloting license and not invested any extra hours into it, especially not within his mathematics track.

Obi-Wan also knew that these kinds of electives were more for senior Padawans and not a pre-teen, but Anakin was also intensely more familiar with ships and droids than most Padawans. Obi-Wan had already given up on attempting to make any sense of Anakin’s level of knowledge when it was all over the place.

Rubbing his eyes, Obi-Wan reached for his tea, enjoying the sweet taste of it. One glance at the chrono told him that Anakin would be back from classes soon. Obi-Wan had meant to read over his paper as a distraction from his own, but, evidently, that hadn’t turned out.

Neither Anakin’s theoretical maths paper nor Obi-Wan’s thesis on the inhumane implications of the Yavin code in light of the end of the New Sith Wars was going to get written or corrected this afternoon.

Obi-Wan felt just a little like dropping his head on the table and taking the day off. Though, perhaps, that really wasn’t such a bad idea. A break from this would maybe clear his head and Anakin…

Anakin would not be happy. He would work himself up because of his frustrations and then Obi-Wan would have to deal with a Padawan too stressed to calm down, which, depending on how his day had gone, would not end so well.

Obi-Wan deliberated whether he should just decide for the both of them that they’d take the day off, but eventually decided against it. Anakin reacted better to all situations if he was given a choice. Knowing that Anakin would be home in ten minutes, Obi-Wan cleared up their living room table and got lunch out of the oven. He had felt like baking today – okay, no, that was a bold-faced lie. He just needed another distraction from his paper and cooking had seemed like a good enough choice – and not like eating in the mess hall.

By the time he had laid the table, the door to their rooms opened and Anakin rushed inside, still full of energy after a morning filled with lessons.

“Obi-Waaaaan, I’m hungry. This smells nice, what’s for lunch?”

Anakin threw his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle, becoming liquid and relying on Obi-Wan to hold him up from beneath his arms.

“I made lasagna,” Obi-Wan said and carried Anakin over to his chair. “Yes, with that cheese you like.”

Anakin’s face lit up and he fist-bumped the air. “Yes!”

Dinner was a loud affair, something Obi-Wan had yet to get used to. Eating with Qui-Gon was always silent while the snack pauses were used for heated debates. Anakin worked exactly the other way round. He wasn’t one for eating quietly or slowly. He told Obi-Wan about his classes, what they had gotten up to, and, of course, the topic of his paper came up.

“Have you finished looking through it?” Anakin asked with big eyes.

Here it was, the moment of truth.

“No,” Obi-Wan replied honestly. “I tried to, but the topic of your paper is nothing I’m really informed on. I checked your grammar but not your calculations.”

“Oh.” Anakin’s face immediately fell. “But I need this paper to be right and I can’t quite figure it out and I don’t want to fail!”

Anakin’s outbursts, when expected, were a lot easier to handle.

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, “which is why I thought of two things. One.” He held up his index finger. “The two of us need a break from these papers. I know yours is due soon, but you are smart and one day of not working on it will do you good, so I’d suggest taking the day off. Two, I’m pretty sure there’s a Jedi Master, who can look over this and help you out, coming home tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Anakin blinked. “Who?”

“Master Plo Koon. He’s an excellent pilot and I think you would have a lot of fun talking to him. He’s a Kel Dor.”

“Oh, I know him!” Anakin interrupted, looking a little star-struck.

Obi-Wan hadn’t expected that reaction. “You do?”

“Yeah! He’s in the crèche lots because he brought a Youngling there around the same time I arrived at the temple. Her name’s Ahsoka. She’s gonna be badass someday.”

Anakin enjoyed spending time in the crèche and going by the way he talked, Obi-Wan assumed that little Ahsoka was one of the more talkative kids there with no hesitation about challenging Anakin to a fight. Obi-Wan smiled. “And you know that how?”

“She bit me once,” Anakin replied and nodded as if that explained everything.

He then swallowed the last piece of his meal, not elaborating any further.

This was… nice. Obi-wan had honestly expected this conversation to be more chaotic. Perhaps that said more about his own mental state than it said anything about Anakin’s.

“And what are we gonna do today then?” Anakin asked. “If we’re not working on papers.”

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan made a show out of pondering when he had already decided to let Anakin pick a while ago. “Well, where do you want to go?”

There was only one possible reply to that answer.

“Can we go to the markets again?” Anakin said immediately. “We’re running out of sunbeetles and we can visit Dak’lana and maybe get you a new hairpin too?”

Obi-Wan had to smile at Anakin’s genuine excitement. Few things were as comforting as seeing your Padawan happy.

Except, maybe, finishing your thesis.

“That is a wonderful idea,” Obi-Wan told him and watched happily as Anakin ran off to get everything ready for their trip.

Time to wash up and spend money on food and jewelry.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #jedi #fanfic

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xskyll · 4 years ago

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The ole literally stuck together trope, tddk edition

1A is doing a practice activity, battling each other, and Midoriya and Todoroki are up against Mineta and Bakugou. Midoriya accidentally touches one of Mineta's balls, but he just takes his glove off and all his well. He keeps fighting.

But then he gets caught up in one of Bakugou's explosions and, momentarily blinded, is hit in the hand again with a ball. No glove this time, so he's stuck with it, but he got hit on the back of the hand, so it's not as debilitating as it could be.

Or at least, that's what he thinks, until Todoroki appears by his side, to regroup, but is knocked into him by Bakugou. The back of his hand hits the ball, and just like that, Todoroki and Midoriya are stuck together.

It's fine though! If anything, Midoriya sees this as unique opportunity to practice their teamwork. They go through some hiccups, getting in each other's way, but eventually they find a rhythm and fall in sync with each other, fighting like a well oiled machine.

But then Bakugou creates a large explosion, not realizing Mineta was in the blast range (it honestly was a mistake...Mineta is small and easy to lose track of). Mineta is knocked out cold and the fight is stopped as he's taken to Recovery Girl. She tells them she'll let Aizawa know when he's up and sends them on their way. Midoriya asks about the ball gluing himself and Todoroki together and she shakes her head, simply saying that she's sure Mineta will help them once he's awake.

She doesn't tell Aizawa right away. Maybe it's because she wants to be the one causing Midoriya trouble for once, instead of the other way around, or she wants revenge on him for always worrying her, or she saw chemistry between him and Todoroki and decided to play matchmaker. Regardless, when Mineta wakes up, he asks for the time, mentioning that it was Saturday and he had plans to go home after class and spend Sunday with his parents (UA has class on Saturday, if you didn't know). She rushes him out, saying he'll miss the last train if he doesn't hurry and off he goes, gone for at least 24 hours. She calls Aizawa to tell him, and "oops" she "forgot" about poor Midoriya and Todoroki. Oooh well. They'll be fine, she's sure.

Meanwhile. Midoriya and Todoroki have been awkwardly getting by, doing homework together, cooking dinner together, accidentally touching each other and finding their faces way too close together, and getting mercilessly teased by their classmates together. They're both still in their costumes, because they can't remove them with their hands linked and they feel sweaty and gross. Aizawa comes to the dorms, bearing the good bad news that they'll need to tough it out. He lets them know their costumes will be fixed quickly, if they decide to cut themselves out of them, so they can change into clean clothes. He finishes by telling them to think of it as a team building exercise.

They both want to get clean and change clothes, but how??? Just go shirtless? Yaomomo comes to their aid, making them matching shirts that are sleeveless on just one side. She explains they might be a liiiittle tight "to ensure the sleeveless side doesn't fall down." Midoriya accepts this, but Todoroki is suspicious. She winks at him when Midoriya isn't looking and mouths "you're welcome." This makes him more suspicious.

They go to Midoriya's room, cause it's closer, and go about getting their costumes off. First they try scissors, which is painstakingly slow, so Midoriya ends up just ripping their clothes off them, one handed. Todoroki has never felt so flustered in his life cause like, that was so hot??? Midoriya just ripped his shirt off, and then his own? Goddamn.

They're down to their boxers and they both want to get clean before changing, cause they're gross, but that means showering together.

They bite the bullet. They decide that they'll get in the shower together, but one will wear his boxers, at least, and they'll use a strip of fabric from one of their ripped costumes to make a blindfold. One wears boxers and is blindfolded while the other gets clean. Once done, the clean one will put his boxers on and then the blindfold will be traded so the other can strip.

It feels dumb, but it's all they can think of. One thing they forgot though is that their showers are small. And being stuck together doesn't help. Midoriya washes first, and it's awful, because he keeps accidentally bumping into him, and one time he grabs Todoroki's arm, to keep his balance in the small space, and he's nervous talking, and Todoroki is realizing that being blindfolded in a shower next to your sexy, naked friend might actually be more erotic than either of them realized. He thinks it will be better with the blindfold off, but hoooo boy, is he wrong, cause Midoriya is more than half naked, and he's dripping wet, and it turns out that seeing the blindfold on his sexy, dripping wet, mostly naked friend is even more erotic. Plus they're still accidentally bumping into each other a bit, and Todoroki feels like he's going to explode. Midoriya is getting redder and redder as he stands there blindfolded, and Todoroki can't tell if he's blushing or if he himself has been accidentally upping the temperature of the room with his right side, during his internal meltdown, and Midoriya is getting overheated.

After what seems like an eternity, they finish the shower. Midoriya keeps the blindfold on while Todoroki towels off and puts on clean boxers and shorts. Once he's decent, Midoriya tells him he can just close his eyes, instead of the blindfold, so he does. Midoriya towels off as well and gets half dressed. Together, they figure out the shirts. They have to step into them, but they're stretchy so it isn't impossible. They are tight though, like Yaomomo promised, so they end up having to help each other pull them up and maneuver their arms into the sleeve. There's lots of touching involved and they both feel like passing out. Once they finally have them on though, they realize these are the sexiest shirts they've ever seen. Also, Midoriya's is about an inch too short, so a little bit of his midriff is showing. Thank you indeed, Yaomomo.

The rest of their time together is pretty soft. They watch a movie in the common area, with some other classmates and at first they’re sitting stiffly next to each other, but that gets uncomfortable and tedious. Midoriya caves first and asks in a whisper, blushing, if Todoroki minds if they lean on each other "just to be more comfortable! That's all!" Todoroki agrees and it isn't long before leaning melts into full blown cuddling. They go to bed after the movie, in Todoroki's room, because his futon is wider than Midoriya's mattress. They try to keep their distance, but when they wake up in the morning they're tangled together. Yaomomo made them each two shirts, identical, so Midoriya rips their shirts off again (be still Todoroki's heart) and they change, then do cute stuff like brush their teeth together and make breakfast together.

As they go through the day, they grow more and more comfortable being in each other's space and moving to help each other without needing to be asked. They're both constantly thinking of each other, realizing how endearing the others little daily habits and mannerisms are, and how thoughtful the other is, and they've both always found the other attractive, but now that they've been forced to spend so much time together, in such an intimate way, they both realize that maybe their feelings aren't entirely platonic.

Of course, Mineta does return, by early evening. He laughs at them so hard he cries, but he does unstick them. Once they're alone, Todoroki admits that he sort of had fun, being stuck together. Midoriya agrees and says he thinks he'll kind of miss it, because he likes Todoroki's company so much. They fumble over their words a bit, both flustered, but eventually they agree that both of them would like to spend more time together. And it takes them a while to figure themselves out. They start spending most of their free time together. They start going off campus together, basically on dates, though they don't call it that. They start referring to each other by their first names and they start spending the night in each other's dorm rooms frequently. And one night, while they're squished together in Midoriya's small bed, Midoriya has a moment of bravery and tells Todoroki that he thinks he likes him as more than a friend. Todoroki says he also thinks he likes him as more than a friend, and asks to kiss him. They share their first kiss and it's soft and gentle and caring and everything both of them ever wanted.

#I guess the alternate version of this is they just have passionate sex in the shower #choose your own adventure or whatever idk #tddk #tododeku #todoroki x midoriya #todoroki x deku #todoizu #todomido #shouto x izuku #skyll rambles #tddk drabble #sort of?#idk what to call this #i’m writing a real tddk fanfic and this is my break from that #cause it’s kind of long and I’m like hhnnngghh #bnha

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the-phantom-ender · 4 years ago

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Hello folks! This is actually my first Foolish request from ao3! The request was basically just. Foolish overworking himself on the mansion and worrying Ranboo and Tubbo. So I hope you enjoy it!!

Gods did not get sick. So he wasn’t, no way, Foolish was absolutely not sick. And even if he was, which he wasn’t, he was far too busy to care. There was lots of work to be done and no time for downtime! The mansion wouldn’t build itself and only he knew what he was doing. Maybe it was a little picky of him, but he didn’t like having other people build too much for him. There was room for mistakes that way.

He sighed, watching the sun dip under the horizon. It was beautiful, really, all of the sunsets in Snowchester were. It also meant a very rapid temperature drop, though. Part of him wished he could slip back into the interior to work on that. No, though, he’d checked on the roof just in case earlier and realized that he’d managed to completely swap an entire section of it. Which meant he needed to rework that entire thing.

His breath had begun to come out in foggy puffs in front of his face. If he were more relaxed, maybe he’d imagine himself being a great dragon, blowing fire and smoke in front of him. Fire was never really his thing, though. And he was busy, so he shouldn’t be doing anything silly like that. Foolish sighed, looking back at the work at hand. The roof wouldn’t fix itself.

His hands were calloused and raw from the woodwork, he’d had to deal with more splinters than he could count. Of course, he wasn’t too bothered by it! He actually kinda liked the sensation of having rough hands. If he were a warrior, it would be a sign of strength and power. Even if Foolish was no fighter, it was nice getting the perspective of working so hard on something.

Which reminded him. He really did need to get back to working. So he did. Pulling things up and swapping them out in a rehearsed and calculated way. The motions almost blurred together sometimes. It was all very repetitive. That could be nice, sometimes, but it was… tedious, now.

The cold really wasn’t helping, truth be told. His hands were numb, the parts of him that were more… shark-like were chapped and moving slower than they should have been. It was alright, though! Necessary in the long run, so he wasn’t bothered at all. Even if he was shivering and his thoughts were… slightly foggy. That was all alright, he was a busy bee with a lot to do! Ain’t no rest for the wicked, though!

Finally, he finished reworking the roof. His chest felt tight and he took care to double and triple check to make sure it was finished. No more mistakes, right? If there were any more mistakes he’d fix those too, obviously, but he couldn’t have managed to mess up anything else! He didn’t, no, he didn’t. And he made absolutely sure of it.

By the time he’d finished making 100% sure that there were no more flaws in the roofing, the sun was coming up again. It didn’t feel that long since it had gone down, really, but time flew when you were working, he supposed. Foolish had something to focus on and that was all that really mattered.

Now, though, came the issue of getting back down. Something had knocked into his scaffolding, it seemed, while he was on the roof, and it all came down. He sighed. Jumping wasn’t going to work from this height. It was too high up to risk. Maybe he could try for some water, though? He was relatively consistent with it.

…

Foolish woke up in a bed. He did not remember getting there. There was a cold compress on his forehead, he could tell that much. Who had… that was totally unnecessary! He wasn’t- he wasn’t sick and he didn’t need to be taken care of. The sound of gentle chatter filled his ears as he forced one emerald eye open.

Someone entered the room, short, hard to make out- his vision was blurred slightly. “OH HOLY SHIT YOU- you’re not dead! That’s good!”

Yeah, okay, it was Tubbo. Foolish opened his other eye, biting back a curse as his head spun. He pushed himself up against the bed frame, looking around the room. Or, at least, he tried to, until the aforementioned cold compress fell over his eyes. He sighed, tilting his head forward and letting it fall on his lap. The room was… not his! A guest room, maybe? It wasn’t Tubbo’s, at least.

“Ranbooooooo! Foolish is awake!!!!” Foolish scrunched his nose, jeez that kid could be loud.

A few moments passed before the other teen rushed into the room, eyes wide. His expression was laced with worry, and it seemed like he had been running around for a while. Ranboo let out a soft puff of relief upon seeing Foolish, but concern still managed to outweigh it.

“You- you really should take it easy. Uh. I don’t know how high your temperature should run because you’re kinda a god, but Tubbo and I went out to check on things this morning and you were- you were passed out in the snow and you were way more still than I’ve ever seen you and- I am! Rambling. So I’ll stop now.”

Foolish raised an eyebrow. Unconscious in the snow. No, no, that didn’t sound right at all! He couldn’t have been unconscious, that was silly! Oh, who was he kidding? He probably was, they were probably right. For a moment, he opened his mouth to defend himself. There was really nothing to say, though, so he just shut back up without a word.

“How… long had you been working, Foolish?” Ranboo asked after a very long moment of less-than-comfortable silence.

How long had Foolish been working before that point? It… hadn’t been that long, right? He remembered the sun going down and rising again more than once, working and reworking sections until ichor covered his fingertips. How much time had passed since he stopped, when had he last taken more than a momentary break?

Foolish looked around,” Not to take your shtick or anything but… I don’t remember?”

“WHAT?!” Shouted Tubbo, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Foolish…” Ranboo started, eyes trained on the ground,” That’s… really dangerous. You could ha- you did get hurt!”

He shrugged, wincing slightly at the unexpected rush of pain. The fall must have done a number on him, he usually didn’t react much at all to pain. “Eh, I’m kinda a god. Pushing beyond human limits is kinda… what I do.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t still have your limits! You c- you can’t push yourself that far. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have all the same weaknesses as a human, you can still… get hurt.” The half enderman was pacing slightly, his hands knotted together.

Out of the corner of his eye, Foolish saw Tubbo place a hand on his forearm, stilling the nervous teen. It was sweet, those two were always sweet. That was part of why he agreed to build for them, to be honest.

“Look, look, if I like… agree to take it easy, will you calm down?” Foolish sighed, feeling slightly awkward,” I can like… work on room plans and stuff, nothing physical.”

“Or!” Tubbo interjected,” You could take time off! So you don’t pass out in the snow again.”

He groaned. There was that look in Tubbo’s eyes. The kid could be pretty stubborn given the chance and he could tell that there was just about nothing he could do to change his mind. Especially when he got that expression. Foolish tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Fine, fine. If you insist. I’ll just go back to my summ-” this statement was cut off by him attempting to get out of the bed he was in, only to crumble uselessly to the floor. He let out a frustrated huff, grumbling,” Or maybe not.”

“You can stay here until your health improves…” Ranboo offered tensely,” It won’t be too much trouble. Uh. I’m not always around but I can… clear some time to check up on stuff.”

To be honest: Foolish was not sure what to do here! He was thankful for the help, really, he was. But he didn’t want two stressed teens doting on him. It was embarrassing, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself! The help was appreciated, he figured they were just going by what other people had done for them in the past.

“I can take care of myself, man. You focus on your own stuff. I’ll let myself get back into working order, but you two don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. You’re kids, I’m not gonna make you two take care of an adult, much less an immortal adult.”

He refused to draw attention to how taken aback both boys seemed by this. He refused to draw attention to the way Tubbo looked genuinely confused. This place was unkind to the children, he knew this. They were just kids, he refused to put more on their plate. Besides, Foolish really was more than capable of handling himself. As long as he didn’t force it, he knew he’d recover quickly enough.

… Didn’t stop him from knowing they’d still worry. He’d cross that bridge when they got there.

#transcribed from enderspeak #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #foolish gamers #c!foolish #tubbo #c!tubbo #ranboo #c!ranboo #woooo big bro foolish in this bad boy #tw: caps

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acealistair · 4 years ago

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Hi! I have a quick question if that's okay. I'm a huge fan of the Dragon Age series and I'm finally going to be able to play Inquisition with mods, but I've read a lot of stuff that says that appearance mods cause an infinite loading screen or that they're incompatible with the DLC. Is there a way to work around this? I see tons of people with modded Inquisitors, but I'm pretty new to the modding scene, so I don't know how to go about fixing it if it is incompatible with the DLC. Thanks!

That’s a very understandable question and I’m flattered you’ve come to me for it! There are a few different ways to mod Inquisition, so I’m going to tell you how I do it and avoid the problems you mention, but I’ll publish this in case any of my other followers have input (such as @dorianpavus who I know does things differently than me).

First, I use the Frosty Mod Manager. A lot of newer mods require Frosty to work and it can run quite a few mods that use the .daimod format - specifically hairstyles, which I’m sure interests you! I also like Frosty because you can easily disable mods without uninstalling them completely (which is sometimes necessary for troubleshooting) and it tells you if any two mods alter the same file, which probably means they’re incompatible.

You can download Frosty here: https://frostytoolsuite.com/downloads.html

The second important thing is to install this mod here: https://www.nexusmods.com/dragonageinquisition/mods/2712 This will let you have your hair mods in all the DLC, solving your biggest concern! I can confirm this one works; I was able to play all the DLC completely through without any issues at all.

That’s the very short answer. I’ve put some additional details under the cut to keep this post from getting too long!

Now, the disappointing news: I have not been able to completely stop my game from throwing infinite loading screens or crashing on occasion. There are two very specific places this happens:

1) The cutscene where you find Skyhold, immediately after talking to Solas about the orb by the cool veilfire torch post-The Dawn Will Come. The screen will go white for me and I can hear veilfire sound effects but nothing happens no matter how long I wait. I believe this is a very well-known issue.

2) At the end of Iron Bull’s cutscene when you first get to Skyhold where he has you pretend to be Grim and listen to the rando Inquisition soldiers. The cutscene itself will play fine with all my mods but the game immediately crashes when the conversation ends. No clue if very many other people experience this.

That being said, I do use additional mods other than hair/appearance mods, so I’m not certain if it’s those ones specifically that cause the issues. It will take some tweaking and experimenting on your end with your personal mod loadout to figure what does and doesn’t work. I know that for me I’ve sadly had to miss out on a good number of mods that I’d be delighted if they did work, but ultimately they’re not necessary for my enjoyment of the game.

But the good news is that it’s very easy to simply launch the game without mods (or disable certain mods from Frosty) and get past those cutscenes, then boot it up again with mods and continue like nothing happened. It’s tedious, yes, but overall not a big deal since it’s just those two points in the entire game that I need to do this.

#i used to use dai mod manager but it's been years so unfortunately i've like completely forgotten how it works :'D #hope this helps!!#tootrashbread

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honeydots · 5 years ago

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190?

“I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought”

Summary: Goro winds up having more to drink than he planned, and who else to find him on his drunk walk home than his soon-to-be-assassinated rival.

cw: underage drinking, minor blood mention

(ao3 link)

The smell of wine was always too thick for Goro’s tastes.

He dreaded to hear the hollow sound of the cork popping, and the clink of glass-on-glass as each man drank to their hearty victories.

It wasn’t uncommon that alcohol was served at these sorts of things, with Shido’s colleagues and their celebratory get-togethers. He would always be expected to attend, but not for long. Just enough time for his presence to be known, so that he could come and go without becoming the prudish center of conversation.

He knew they spoke about him while he wasn’t around, and that was unavoidable. These little events were the best way to control their conversations from afar. Leave them with more answers than questions and with casual suspicions, not deadly ones.

Come in, speak in pretty sentences, have a glass of wine, and leave.

He knew better than to reject drinking. Or rather, he knew better than to reject drinking with this crowd. Some men would come in and make a show of Goro’s being a minor, as if their own morals wouldn’t allow it. Laugh along with their drunkards, and let Goro remain blissfully sober.

Though others, and these were usually the important ones, didn’t care. Goro was to politely accept their offer, and to drink not all but most of his glass. Don’t appear eager, but don’t appear sheepish. Drink to another successful success, another voter turnout, another hit.

He’d always think too hard about these nights. Figuratively, wine was the blood of Jesus, drunk to remind Christians of the sins that he died for. Goro wondered how figurative his glass was now. Tonight, they were toasting to blood soon to be spilled; it was practically in their glasses.

Goro certainly wasn’t Christian. It was useless to think of wine as anything more than grapes.

But sometimes he’d imagine watching the men pour their glasses and take a sip, only to discover the salty allure of blood washing into their mouths. Watch them wretch and choke, spit out their consequences onto the ground. A literal taste of their medicine.

Goro would time himself to his drink. He could even call it a game. Full meant to begin his charming conversations, to grit his teeth and bear through the night. Quarter gone often went by largely unnoticed. If he wasn’t speaking to someone while he was a quarter gone, then he’d done something wrong. He was supposed to be sociable and he’d best act like it.

Half was a tedious measurement. By half, he needed to wrap up any of his quarter chatters and then stand aloof to the side. Allow himself to be open to any quieter, private talks. He’d wait to be approached, while keeping a watchful eye on the atmosphere.

Half could also mean he needed to join into whatever room encompassing conversations that he hadn’t been a part of. Even if it was to simply nod along to whatever nonsense the guests were spouting. It was important to be involved in the key factor.

The last stage, and often the most delicate, was three quarters. At this point, he needed to wedge himself into whatever group he could. To act terribly interested and, when appropriate, deem it the time he must be getting home—he was a working student, after all. He would give his goodbyes, relinquish his glass, and walk home, chewing breath mints like tobacco.

But this was a delicate stage because, on days like today, there would be the option of a refill. Some guest with intentions would see his glass half empty, and offer to fill it again. Never enough wine (he wondered if blood was applicable here, too) for a young man like him.

Depending on the party, Goro would reject it. He could even use this method as a way home—saying he’d had enough, and should be going anyway.

But it was different tonight. The man who he’d managed to dive into conversation with was new and important. The founder of a law firm who’d recently begun business with Shido. He’d grown relevant quickly, and this was the first chance Goro had to make an impression on him.

Two glasses isn’t too much.

Goro didn’t care about this man whatsoever, in actuality. As relevant as pond scum in the grand scheme of things. But favors went miles in this business, and keeping his head on his shoulders was more than worth a glass of wine.

And so he went from three quarters, to full, to half, to empty.

An empty glass was a last resort exit, but it was the most effective against the threat of another refill. He’d stayed too long now. He excused himself, definitely, content with his seamless image he’d left with the man.

It was when he stepped outside, into cool air and away from the bustle and buzz, that his decision came back for its vengeance.

He wasn’t exactly dizzy, but he wouldn’t call himself clearheaded. Disoriented, maybe. His face felt a little flushed. He tried to take deep breaths, keep oxygen going to his brain, let himself calm down. Maybe he was just a bit too excited. He faced forward, focused, and walked. Straight lines, straight back. He would be fine—he only had a little more than usual tonight.

Though, it wasn’t long until he ducked into an alleyway to collect himself.

Shit, he thought, dropping his briefcase onto the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, trying to get himself to focus.

It didn’t work. He felt groggy.

I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought.

This was ridiculous. He wasn’t some lightweight who couldn’t hold his alcohol. He’d drunk at least this much before, and he’d been perfectly capable of getting back to his apartment. What was different about today?

A displeased clench of his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten yet. No breakfast, a skipped lunch in favor of an interview, and wine for dinner.

So, that was it. He needed to eat something. Easy fix, probably. Something a bit hearty would be best, but he was sure he’d see effects even with a small snack.

He hardly felt comfortable going anywhere in the state he was in. God forbid someone he knew saw him, to say nothing of the media. But a dark alleyway on a Tokyo night wasn’t an ideal locale, either.

He considered going into the metaverse, just to get himself out of immediate danger and let the alcohol digest a bit. Let it settle. He could easily slip into Mementos and avoid the subway station. No food would await him there, but at least he wouldn’t be at risk of being seen.

It was dark enough no one would see him enter. He settled it—he’d go inside until he felt sober enough to walk home. Ideally, it would be a short visit. In and out quick enough that he’d still be able to catch the final train. He could excuse being out late with a case, if he was cornered.

He pulled out his phone and opened up the Nav. He was moments away from tapping “Mementos” on his recently visited, when a voice startled him away from the screen.

“Akechi?”

Goro whipped around (casually being an afterthought) and stood face to face with who, on a night like this, he’d call his judge, jury, and executioner.

“Akira-kun,” said Goro, immediately flipping his switch onto a sweeter and less completely deranged setting. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? Awfully late to be out, isn’t it?”

Obviously it had to have been Kurusu who’d decided to make himself known. Of all the nights to show his face. Shido’s event had just had Goro toasting to the predicted fall of the Phantom Thieves. A celebration of a plan being put flawlessly together, centering around Kurusu’s uncanny murder. His coincidental suicide.

Goro had hoped to return without even thinking about him, lest he risk himself getting distracted. His death was just business, and that’s how he needed to think of it. Keep Kurusu behind thick walls of paperwork, or as just another shadow in a crowd.

But instead, there he stood, making the aftertaste of the wine on his tongue turn bitter and guilty.

“I’m heading home,” Kurusu began, looking uncharacteristically bothered. He had a twinge more of a frown on his face, and his eyebrows were furrowed. It was hardly reassuring. “Are you… okay?”

Goro bit his tongue. Who else to notice his state of being completely not okay than Mr.Your-Problem-Is-My-Problem himself. Maybe Goro could amuse himself later, thinking about what Kurusu would do if he told him just what was going through his mind. How would he solve that problem?

“I’m feeling just fine, though thank you for asking. I’m heading home myself, so if you don’t mind,” Goro said, giving a polite half wave and trying to ignore how completely awkward this interaction had been. But two steps forward had him steadying himself on the wall, and Kurusu at his side.

At his side. He was touching him now. Holding him up. It suddenly felt like all too much. He jerked away, filling his head with a whole new kind of dizzy. He pressed his hands against his forehead, trying to steady his mind.

It was expected that Kurusu wouldn’t let that slide. He stood back, eyes wide.

“You’re not alright.”

Yes, that was clear now, wasn’t it? He felt lucky that drinking didn’t make him snappy.

Goro’s elongated silence didn’t seem to tickle Kurusu. It wasn’t like he was doing a fantastic job at pleasing Goro at the moment, either, so he let the pause hang.

Kurusu filled the quiet. “Are you… drunk?”

Goro could feel his edge falling. He would not lean into it. He put on a dazzling smile.

“Ah, Akira-kun, ‘drunk’ is such a crude term. There’s a better one—what was it? Maybe feeling a bit buzzed—”

“Did something happen?”

Kurusu’s gaze was very firm.

Goro didn’t hold it for long. He sighed and tried to relax his stance a bit.

“An interesting correlation you’ve just made, but no. Nothing has happened,” he started, folding his arms into himself. “But, I am more intoxicated than I’d preferably like to be, I’ll admit.”

The concern on Kurusu’s face was thoroughly unwelcomed.

“How much did you drink?”

He’d been hoping that Kurusu wouldn’t play the role of saint. The scrutiny of a worrywart was not the attention he was seeking.

Goro leaned (casually being a forethought, now) onto the wall of the alleyway. “Not enough to warrant your distress, Akira-kun. I simply haven’t eaten much today.” Kurusu’s frown grew deeper, and Goro thought to use it to his advantage. “If you’re so worried, though, perhaps you could get me a little pick-me-up from a convenience store.”

Goro’s stomach twisted, making him flinch and lose his balance. He scrambled to keep himself straight on the wall, the alcohol not helping him in the least. That was all the convincing Kurusu needed, much to Goro’s displeasure.

“You need to sit down somewhere,” Kususu said, annoyingly kindly keeping his hands off of him, but prepared to act as a brace. “We aren’t far from Leblanc. Sojiro already went home.”

“Now, I—” Goro began, but found himself feeling a bit undone by Kurusu’s ever present stare.

He weighed his options. He could shake Kurusu off and enter Mementos by himself, wait foodless for his mind to clear, risk falling asleep there and being late tomorrow and possibly stumbling into trouble.

Or, he could rest at LeBlanc for a while.

Kurusu always had such miserable timing.

Goro scrunched up his nose. “...Fine. If you’re willing to offer me your hospitality, I will take it,” he said.

Kurusu’s expression lightened enough to make Goro’s stomach feel bubbly. What a wretched effect he had on him. This was no time to be getting attached. Much more of this and something really would stick.

Goro straightened his tie, picked up his briefcase, and stood tall. He needed to clear his head somehow. Kurusu was simply his means. He was in an unideal situation that needed to be resolved, and nothing more.

He would not let it be more, two glasses be damned.

***

The train ride did nothing but make him feel worse. Drunk and hungry was a terrible combination. Each bump of the car made his stomach churn.

He hadn’t attracted much attention in the shabby railcar, which was lucky, other than the watchful eye Kurusu had been keeping on him. It was humiliating to have someone so nervous over his condition, and Goro wished his choices hadn’t been so black and white.

He was almost too attentive. Goro wouldn’t think about it.

When they’d arrived at the café, Kurusu’s word held true. It was scarce, no customers or owner. That, at least, was a relief.

There was a noise from the attic, and soon after trotted down Morgana. He stopped in his tracks halfway on the stairs, round eyes turning big upon seeing Goro.

“Akechi,” he said, turning his head to Kurusu. “What’s he doing here?”

Kurusu rubbed the back of his neck. “Could you give us a little time?”

Morgana looked between them again. Either Goro missed something, or Morgana accepted that for what it was, because he turned around and headed back upstairs without another word.

Goro sat in his usual spot, but didn’t feel very typical. He felt wrong just enough to know that he’d be here for a little while. It didn’t help that he was already getting tired.

Usually, alcohol’s one solace was that it made falling asleep come quickly. Now, as he fought his eyelids from betraying him tonight, he wished it’d do anything but.

“Is curry okay?” Kususu asked, already tying an apron around his waist.

Any food would do, really. Anything to help him sober up. “I was under the impression curry was about all you knew how to cook.”

Kurusu gave way his signature hint of a hint of a smile, and put himself to work. Goro leaned back in his chair and tried to just focus on his breathing. He should’ve said no to another glass of wine. Or even just snacked a bit at the event. Though he loathed eating in front of Shido and his colleagues, it would’ve saved his evening alone.

Goro watched Kurusu stir the warming pot of curry absentmindedly. The scent was endlessly better than the wine he’d been served. Savory smells of spices and meat. The hunger and the alcohol must’ve been getting to him, because he had to catch himself before he thought it felt homelike.

This was not a home. This was not his home.

Kurusu noticed Goro watching, but Goro was growing too tired to care. He needed to eat something before he thought something damaging. A wandering mind did him no good here.

It was very quiet in the café. Silence wasn’t uncommon between them, but it was rooted in tension. Goro didn’t trust himself much to speak first. He’d always been careful with his words, but the more his thoughts grew out of hand. the more likely he was to spill sensitive information; or say something too private to let anyone else hear.

Kurusu, on the other hand, was oddly talkative tonight.

“So, do you drink often?”

He was as difficult to read as ever. Goro didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current state of disheveledness, but Kurusu maintained his reputation.

“Not really, no,” Goro readjusted a bit in his seat, and looked down at his hands. “Tonight was… This isn’t a habit of mine.”

He did have the underlying concern that the more he did this, the more it might become a habit, if Shido’s example was anything to go by. He’d hate to have inherited anything from a dastardly man like him, but rancid alcoholism would feel like an all new low.

Kurusu remained stone faced. “I see,” he replied flatly.

“Might you be disappointed? I never would’ve taken you for the ‘party animal’ type, but perhaps you aided me for the sake of a connection?” Goro asked, and then immediately regretted not taking the chance to let their conversation die down. Drunk and tired was not a good mix for his big mouth, it seemed.

“I think I’ll survive,” Kurusu said, raising his eyebrows. He set the temperature lower on the burner and got out a plate. It seemed Goro’s meal was finished heating up. And thank god for that, because the hunger was really getting to him now and he was feeling much more miserable than he’d have preferred for a Thursday night.

Kurusu served his curry still steaming, and Goro dug in as calmly and controlled as he could manage, with a quick, “I appreciate it,” before taking his first bite.

He could tell he was being closely watched as he ate. Goro decided not to comment on it quite yet. Getting a little clue-in on Kurusu’s mind always proved interesting.

He mentally berraded himself for thinking that. It was thoughts like those that inclined him to keep his mouth shut. Something about his drowsiness was making him sentimental, and this clearly wasn’t the time.

“You think I’d only help you because I wanted something?”

Again, Kurusu was single handedly keeping their conversation alive. He usually required a bit more effort to pry into, and Goro positively knew why it was different tonight, but kept himself from thinking it.

Goro gave himself a performative moment to think of a reply. “Are you referring to my question earlier? Well, really, is that so odd? Such an intent is hardly uncommon,” he replied, and took another bite. He wanted to say he was sobering up, but so far the curry was only affecting his stomach, not his mind.

“So you think that’s my ‘intent,’ then.”

“Do I have a reason to think otherwise? You’ve set up your own sorts of deals within your friendships, haven’t you?” Goro began again, growing intrigued. “Kitagawa-kun makes you those cards, as one example. It’s only natural that we, as humans, have a give and take relationship with each other. Wouldn’t you agree?” Another bite.

Kurusu looked unimpressed. Goro always knew he’d get something interesting out of him when he wore that expression.

“You think so?”

He met his eyes solidly and smiled. “I do.”��

There was a short silence. Goro haughtily scraped up a large spoonful of rice.

Kurusu caught him in a mouthful. “So, what are you giving me, then?”

Swallowing gave him a moment to think. Though it was time wasted, really, because it wasn’t some grandiose question. He hoped he hadn’t said that to sound smart, like some stumping finisher. But Kususu hardly failed to disappoint—so he kept his hopes up.

The back of his mind told him getting excited was the worst thing to do while trying to detach himself, but he buried the thought.

Just for now is fine.

He cleared his throat. Where was he?

“You don’t think I’ve held up my end of the bargain? I disagree. Let’s see,” Goro crossed his legs and brought a finger up to his chin. “I believe I’ve taught you some sleuthing techniques, haven’t I? Though, that was early on. I can see how you may not be satisfied. However, I have introduced you to quite a few hot spots, yes? And I’m aware of the effects that billiards and darts had on you.” He scooped another spoonful of curry, but finished his thought before he took his bite. “And, I certainly hope I’m not mistaken that our conversations have been gratifying for the both of us.”

“That’s what you call give-and-take?” Kurusu replied. Knowing him, though, it was less of a reply and more of a challenge. Goro had forgotten all about how badly he wanted to be in bed at home, now. He may have been tired, but this was a rivalry he intended to dominate. The tricks Kurusu had up his sleeve always proved entertaining.

“‘That’ is what I call ‘what I’ve given you.’ If you’d like my takeaway, well, let’s just say you’ve given me plenty to think about over the last few months.”

Kurusu leaned onto the counter. Goro appreciated the maintained distance, since he still wasn’t exactly in a sensory mood. The alcohol hadn’t left him yet. “You know, I can think of a better name for that.”

“Oh?” Goro said, “Can you?”

Kurusu almost smirked. “Silly little thing called friendship.”

Goro sighed, shaking his head. Perhaps he hadn’t picked up on what he’d been implying. Kurusu could win some and lose some. “Akira-kun, I’m not trying to argue that friendship is off the table. I simply think any relationship can be boiled down to the action of compromise.”

“And I’m trying to argue that I think that’s a shallow way of thinking,” Kurusu shot back.

Goro felt his jaw clench. “Your reasoning?” He presented the easiest smile he could muster.

Kurusu put himself back up at full height and slid his hands into his pockets. “A relationship doesn’t end once a standard has been met.”

Goro rolled his shoulders back. The high of debate was clearing his mind. He hardly noticed.

“Ah, but don’t you think another goal could be made? Or, even two or three? And, a connection doesn’t have to start with just one, you could have dozens of deals with a single person at a time,” he argued, feeling quite confident. “Have you heard of the Social Exchange Theory? It suggests that relationships are formed by maximizing benefits and minimizing drawbacks. In other words, what one gives to you is the defining factor, while you try to deplete what is taken.”

Kurusu seemed to consider that, but his pause gave way to Goro’s unfinished defense. “Let me give you an example: you and Sakamoto-kun are quite close, aren’t you? Is that not a result of both of you, mutually and continually, giving and taking from each other?” He continued, watching Kurusu quirk an eyebrow. “Perhaps Sakamoto is a carefree presence for you, and perhaps you offer him a place of security. But, as one would expect, each of you have flaws. Sakamoto can get rambunctious, and his actions have consequences that can rebound and affect you. That is a cost of his friendship. A give and take, even in non-physical terms.”

Goro took another bite of curry in anticipation of his response. It was already growing cold. At this point, Goro really didn’t think that the curry had helped him clear his mind at all— it was just their conversation in privacy that had given him a chance to focus.

Not that the effects of his drinking were completely gone. He was still very sleepy, and he knew he tended to ramble in exhaustion. Goro had done that here before, even. He needed to figure out a way to wrap this up soon, but. Kurusu wasn’t like the men around Shido. He enjoyed their talks. He didn’t have a glass of wine in hand telling him how much longer he needed to hold up.

It was only talking, between them.

He would power through it. He imagined that once he was up and walking around and heading back to the station, that he’d regain energy again. It was only the atmosphere that was making him so tired. He couldn’t possibly fuck up so poorly as to say something incriminating at a .06 blood alcohol content.

“Me accepting that my friends have flaws doesn’t take from me,” Kususu answered, giving Goro another chance to flex his argument.

“Then, shall I speak more literally? You often cook for your friends, don’t you? That taxes something directly from you, time and effort.” Goro put his spoon down entirely and leaned into their conversation. Kurusu wasn’t the kind of person that Goro felt he needed to chide, but a bit of teasing felt inevitable.

Kurusu replied straight away. “Me cooking for my friends isn’t the foundation of our relationships.”

“But, you have made deals in similar fashions, haven’t you? Would you really argue that none of your relationships were formed from a deal you made? You, of all people?”

He watched the reaction his spiel got from Kurusu. Hardly a twitch, but something had dug under his skin. Goro knew he was enjoying this as much as he was, and it almost wrenched out a grin from him.

Kurusu put a hand out of his pocket and propped himself up, leaning towards Goro on the counter. It closed the space between them further. They still weren’t touching, but his presence was on top of him. It felt close, and Goro had to fight moving away.

“I’ve made plenty of friendships through a give-and-take. But the idea that it’s the only way to view them is one-sided. You can say that it’s an exchange in hindsight, as an outsider, but I’m not thinking about what I get from people when I’m with them. I’m thinking about them, and that’s all.” Kurusu took his weight off the counter. “It’s material otherwise. Only thinking in wins and losses.”

Goro pinched the back of his arm habitually. He spoke a bit quieter. “So you think it can’t be effectively utilized?”

Kursu looked at him firmly. “I think it’s the wrong mindset to have.”

There was a short silence that hung. They stared at each other. Goro broke the contact, closing his eyes and resting back in his chair. He giggled.

“You never cease to entertain, Akira-kun. You really are interesting,” he sighed, trying to make it sound a bit wistful. “Would you tell me what led to such a thought process?”

Kurusu’s expression fell. It was quick, and barely noticeable, but he looked pained. Like what Goro had said had squeezed something hard, but disappeared just as fast.

He replied with his typical emotionless slate.

“There was something that changed.”

Goro tilted his head, and brought up a hand to rest it on. “That something being?”

He wondered what Kurusu might say. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. Perhaps a view in a palace, or a girlfriend, or some connection that would be ultimately meaningless to Goro, but something he still wanted to get his hands on.

Suddenly, his mind felt very present. He shouldn’t have thought that. He shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be asking this. Now was the time he was supposed to be creating a distance between them, not trying to open him up and solidify whatever makeshift acquaintanceship they’d developed. He was going to kill him in four days. Getting to know him better was supposed to have been a distant ‘what if.’ He shouldn’t feel so curious.

But Kurusu smirked and said, “A secret,” despite Goro’s dilemma.

“Ehh,” Goro complained, feeling both relieved and indescribably annoyed. “You won’t be giving me a ticket into the back of your mind tonight? After all that buildup?”

Kurusu laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“Try me,” Goro said, and smiled wide. He ignored his itchy eyes telling him to go to sleep. And the pushing voices reminding him that he was setting himself up for more pain in the long run.

He knew that. He couldn’t help himself, though. He knew he’d get nothing out of this.

The realization made him gulp.

Kurusu eased up. “Maybe once you tell me why you’re ‘buzzed.’”

Goro wasn’t sure he could do much more to keep the conversation from ending. His little cycle of trying to make things as terrible as possible for his future self was going to come to an end. “I think I’ve been keeping up appearances very well.”

“You can’t fool me,” Kurusu replied, and grinned a very faint grin. He took off his apron. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Mm,” hummed Goro, and just like that, Kurusu disappeared from the conversation. Goro put his elbow onto the counter and propped his head up, leaning into his cheek. Their talks often ended in nowheres, neither of them giving up their stances. He tried to keep himself from thinking how nice it was to have such a conversation partner. Maybe it was the alcohol, and his growing drowsiness, but he couldn’t help himself.

Kurusu wasn’t his friend, but he could be. Could’ve been, was more accurate. He was digging himself into a hole, thinking this way. But he’d buried himself in something deeper a long time ago.

Goro’s eyes felt heavy. He thought to rest them, just for a moment, until Kurusu returned. Then he could say his goodbyes, their debate having come to an end. And he’d go home, and he’d feel a bit like he was rotting away, and he’d sleep through it anyway.

But for now, he was comfortable in a café, with low lights and a could’ve been just barely out of reach. He was a little undone, but that was just fine for now.

He closed his eyes and barely felt himself drift off.

***

Akira dug through one of his dusty boxes upstairs, while Morgana sat staring at him from his bed. He stuck his arm in deep, feeling around and checking colors and fabrics when he could pull something up for air.

“You two sure are chatty, huh,” Morgana remarked, flicking his tail back and forth.

Akira kept his nose in the box. He was almost positive he’d put it in here. Maybe it had gotten more buried than he thought.

“What’d you guys talk about?”

It didn’t take long to find his prize. It was a bit stuck in the middle, and he had to yank hard to free it from the mess of clothes. But as he pulled, the tension eased, and out popped his summer blanket. He threw it over his shoulder, and he heard Morgana jump down from the bed.

Akira got up and waited for him to join him.

“I’m not sure you’d be that interested.”

Morgana huffed. “You’re always talking about weird stuff.”

The two of them walked downstairs. Akira was trying to be quiet, skipping the second and notoriously squeaky stair, while also attempting to shake out the blanket a bit on his way down.

His silent mission must’ve proved successful, because Akechi was still laying down on the counter sound asleep, in the same position he’d left him. Akira watched his shoulders rise and fall a bit. He looked peaceful.

Akira spread out the blanket between his hands. It was light, but it was better than nothing. It could get cold some nights.

“You know, I still don’t get why you’re being so nice to him,” Morgana said.

Akira didn’t reply. He walked over to the chair Akechi was sitting on, and tried to lightly but snugly wrap him up.

Morgana hopped onto the counter. “You know what he’s trying to do. You don’t owe him this much.”

The blanket hugged around Akechi’s shoulders and back well. Akira made sure it wouldn’t fall off. He tried very carefully not to touch him. Waking him would be bad, and Akira didn’t want to initiate something that would make him uncomfortable. His jolt from earlier had kept Akira off—he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Morgana persisted. “You aren’t going to get anything out of this.”

Akira stepped back, and made sure there weren’t any uncovered spots. Akechi looked warm, and he looked soft, and he looked exhausted. Incredibly, incredibly exhausted.

“I know.”

#THANKS for the ask!!!!!#also sorry you had to beta ur own request LMAOOOO #i actually struggled a lot more w this one than u think purely bc i was having trouble with coming up with a premise i liked #this was NOT the first idea i had lololol #oh but not to say i didnt have a lot of fun haha #also for everyone who checks tags first: yes its shuake #AND its about 5k #anyway thank u again and i hope u enjoy (enjoyed? heheh)#my fics #ask #i-demand-a-hug #SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO HAD TO DEAL W THIS WHILE THE READ MORE BROKE #my p5 fics

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