#something about colored pencil really helped capture the Vibe for this one

[dragonmuse]

For the smutty asks! (Hopefully I beat everyone else to it, lol!)

Can you see Jim and Lucius getting together in any of your verses?

(you win and OMG! What an ask to win, I love it. SO. I have said that in mainverse, Jim and Lucius do like to make out on occasion post-Sing a New Song. Oluwande is always around for these moments. And I do think maybe just the once....YES. Let's say that they do. Everyone take this to as much canon as they would like. Also I got blasted on gin tonight.)

Lucius liked Jim and Oluwande’s apartment. It was all in warm colors, the living room a rich terra cotta shade that made the whole place feel like it might’ve been transplanted from some desert town. They were all a little stoned, Oluwande sprawled out on the bean bag chair that Jim had acquired at some garage sale, looking like a decadent god with his shirt open to his stomach, the rich cream of it setting off the richness of his skin. Jim was on the couch, legs splayed wide, a glass hanging from the fingers of one hand. Lucius was on the other side, sketching in a very loose way, capturing the lines of their body. 

“Not even once,” he was saying as he captured the capable spread of Jim’s fingers on the glass. 

“Not even a porno or two?” Oluwande asked, head lolling a little to one side. “Really? Just never?” 

“I’ve been into guys since I was old enough to jerk it,” Lucius shrugged expansively. “And I lacked imagination as a horny high schooler. And since then I haven’t been lucky enough to attract a guy with one.” 

“You’re missing out,” Oluwande informed him. 

“What do you think?” Lucius asked Jim. 

“I think everyone should have both,”  they gestured with their glass. “Or neither. Or something new. Who the fuck cares? What are we talking about again?” 

“Lucius has never slept with someone with a vulva,” Oluwande reminded them. “Vagina. Pussy? I like pussy as a word, but like…I dunno. Pussy is a vibe, not an organ, right?” 

“Is it?” Lucius looked between them.  

“Yeah, maybe, “ Jim considered. “I’ve got a vagina, but I don’t think I’ve got a pussy. Sometimes Olu has a pussy.” 

“Exactly, exactly,” Oluwande nodded. “Especially on really good Teal days, I definitely have one.” 

“Frenchie would probably be on board with that,” a dash of pencil and sketch Jim acquired another arm, extended over the back of the couch. 

“Wait! Wait,” Oluwande sat up a little, then sagged down against the gravity of the bean bag. “Luc…our Lucius, has a little slice of virginity left! Un-fucking-believable.” 

“I mean, arguably,” Lucius wrinkled his nose. “Is it really that different?”  Jim and Oluwande both gave him a look. “Wow, you guys have definitely  reached ‘couple who have been together so long they make the same facial expressions’.” 

“It’s different,” Oluwande said firmly. “In really good ways.” 

“All right, I’ll put it on my bucket list.” 

He concentrated on his paper for a second which was why he was startled when Jim’s hand landed on his collar and dragged him forward. 

“Oookay, hello,” he laughed and followed the drag to crawl across the couch. He straddled their lap, admiring Jim’s lazy half-smile. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m horny,” Jim informed him. “And Olu is comfortable. We can cross it off your bucket list right now.” 

“Oh...oh shit, really?” Lucius’ eyes went wide. “Uh, you’re both good with that?” 

“Yeah,” Jim glanced at Oluwande. “We’re good?” 

“We’re good,” he confirmed. “We talked about it a couple of months ago. I don’t think I could deal with it being a regular thing, but hey, variety of is the spice of life once and a while.” 

“I...can’t actually promise to be any good,” Lucius realized, shifting uneasily. “But I can certainly give it my all.” 

“Half the fucking battle,” Jim pulled him down again. 

Kissing Jim was like being annihilated. They were ruthlessly good at it, sucking Lucius’ bottom lip into their mouth, dancing the tip of their tongue over it until it felt like it was hardwired straight to cock.  Usually when they made out, Lucius was drunk enough that getting it up would be a losing battle, but tonight, he was only pleasantly smeared out and he had absolutely no problem. 

It didn’t hurt that Jim paused just long enough to set their drink down on the coffee table, then ran their hands under Lucius' shirt, skimming fingernails over his ribs in a very promising way. He obligingly wiggled out of it.  Jim tore their mouth from his to explore his chest, dropping nipping kisses over his chest. 

Lucius braced one hand against the back of the couch and used the other to cradle Jim’s neck, encouraging the exploration. This was comfortable ground. Stayed comfortable as Jim shed their shirt and Lucius could trace the musculature of their shoulders.  

“Fuck, I love your skin,” he groaned as Jim flicked their tongue over his nipple with interest. 

“Soft and a little furry, right?” Oluwande giggled, “like a cat’s ear.” 

“Silk.” Lucius agreed. 

“Shut up,” Jim recaptured his mouth. 

They kissed for a while and Lucius lost himself in the exchange. Jim’s tongue was so clever and fast. If he was with another lover, Lucius might’ve started grinding against them, but he wasn’t sure where the lines were with Jim.  

Then in a very sudden, very clear way, Jim’s hands were on his ass dragging him into contact. His cock ground into their stomach which was very firm. Lucius made an appreciative noise into their mouth. Maybe he could have just ground himself into a lazy orgasm, but after a minute of that Jim pulled away. 

“You want to do this?” They checked. 

“Yes,” he said without reservation.  

“You won’t get...weird about it?” 

“No,” he promised. “Even if it’s not my scene, I’ll make sure we both have a good time this round and I’ll just decline if it comes up again. Okay?” 

“...yeah, okay,” they decided.

Apparently just like most things with Jim, it was either a yes or a no and both went full tilt. Yes, meant that Jim got to their feet and without any hesitation shucked off their shirt, pants and underwear, so they stood before him entirely nude. He’d seen it all before, drawn it even, but it was another thing to have their cunt inches from his face. Very vivid. 

“They like it if you touch their chest a lot first,” Oluwande suggested, distantly behind them. “You can get pretty rough, they don’t have a lot of feeling in their nipples.” 

“Yeah?” Lucius checked with Jim. 

‘“Mhm,” they stepped forward, hesitated then put themselves in his lap, bringing their lovely deep brown nipples in range. 

Who was Lucius to resist? He rested his hands on Jim’s sides, and leaned in to lap at the right nipple, the hard nub a familiar bit of territory. Jim’s only reaction was to lean into it, silent, but clearly a demand. 

This Lucius could do. He licked and then, experimentally, put his teeth to the nub and was rewarded with a soft encouraging noise. When he really put his effort into it, Jim grunted in approval, hips rocketing forward. Hell yeah. Lucius could work with that. He lost long minutes bringing forth Jim’s rutting hips, laving attention on both brown disks with teeth and tongue. Whichever one was not receiving his mouth’s attention, he made sure to rub over in slow circles with a thumb. 

“Oh fuck,” Jim said under their breath. “Okay...okay.. Here...” 

They grabbed Lucius’ hand away from where it was slowly torturing one apaprently oversensaized nipple. 

“Tell me what you like,” he all, but purred. 

“I like to start with one finger,” they said, quiet, but firm. “Slide it slow. Your thumb can go on my clit, slow circles like you were doing.” 

“Guided tour,” he reminded them. 

“Yeah..yeah okay,” they considered then just took his hand and molded it into the shape they wanted, pointer finger hooked up, thumb cocked. 

Then in what felt like molasses slow motion, Jim took his wrist and brought it down to the right level. With a look of intense concentration, they shifted their hips to align his hand where they need it and then sank down. 

Wet heat enveloped Lucius’ finger.

“Yeah...oh hell yeah,” he licked his lips. “Okay, where’s the-” 

Jim placed his thumb on what was very clearly a distinct nub. 

“Start soft,” they warned. 

“This is what guy’s can’t find?” Lucius asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!” 

“People are dumb,” Oluwande agreed. “I do big circles at first, narrow in.” 

“Yeah,” Jim agreed and when Lucius moved his thumb in a wide arc, he could feel muscle flutter around his pointer finger. “Move in and out. Slow.” 

It was a dance, and Lucius might not know the steps, but he was very familiar with the rhythm. After a false start or two, he got the hang of the duel motion. It was easy to tell what Jim liked, their breath broke in half when he did something right. 

“Another finger,” they demanded and he had to readjust, but when he slid in two, Jim groaned deeply and rocked against him in clear demand. 

The angle was new, but Lucius adjusted to it. As Jim’s breath got faster, he stroked a little faster and harder over their clit. Their hands landed on his shoulders and their grip dug in as they thrust harder against him. He could feel the walls of them clutching around him in their own rhythm and it was startlingly sexy in a way he couldn’t have antcipated. It egged him on to go faster, to press a little harder. 

“Yes!” Jim moaned and then spasmed around his fingers, everything getting substantially wetter. 

“...did you just come?” He checked. 

“Yeah,” they dropped their forehead to his shoulder. 

“That was so hot,” he told them, kissing their neck and shoulder. “Like really really scorchingly hot.” 

“It was?” they asked. And it was a little weird because Lucius’ fingers were definitely still lodged in them, but they made no move to get away, so he left them there. 

“Yeah, you’re really fucking hot and I’ve never been gripped like that before.” 

“Want to go for all three?”

“All three what?” he blinked. 

“Hands, mouth and genitals,” Oluwande put in helpfully. 

“In one night?” 

“I can go like six or seven times?” Jim hazarded. “Olu?” 

“Record is twelve, but that was a wild night.” 

“Twelve?” Lucius squeaked. “Okay, forget having sex with someone with a vagina. I WANT one.” 

“They have their moments,” Jim laughed in his ear. They were also already moving their hips again, rocking against his fingers. “What do you say?” 

“I mean I’m here to eat the whole buffet, I think.” 

“Good. How are you on your knees?” 

“My friend, it’s where I do my best work.” 

Easy to say. A little daunting to drop to his knees and be confronted with an entirely new setup and sensory experience. The smell was definitely different, but not nearly as off putting as he might’ve imagined. It was distinctly an odor of sex and how bad could that be?  Jim’s heels landed on his back, their strong legs pulling him in. 

“Dos? Don’ts?” He asked as leaned into kiss their inner thigh. That was the same and he could bury himself there for a long time. 

“Go slow until I say faster,” they decreed. “And I’ll tell you where to go.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Legs spread, Lucius again decided some straight men weren’t very clever. Maybe it was because he was used to looking for cocks, but it was clear what was a thick bundle of nerves. He slid his hands under Jim’s ass, massaging the flesh a little and admriing the strength beneath the thin layer of fat. Then without allowing himself further though, he licked a stripe from top to bottom. 

“Yeah...good,” Jim encouraged, “Just the tip of your tongue right...Lucius!” 

He was a fast study. The taste was new, somehow briny instead of just skin and musk. Having eaten a lot of ass in his time, he was used to the close warmth, but the natural generation of slick, salty body fluid surprised him. It was a little like come and not at all like it all at once. He chased the newness, flattening his tongue over the whole of them. 

“Concentrate on the clit,” Jim said, a little breathlessly. “Smaller motion...kind of...fuck...” 

“Like your tongue is an arrow and they’re the target,” Oluwande advised. 

Which was surprisingly clear and Lucius could do that. He used the to tip of his tongue, teasing it over and over them. Jim’s breath caught again and again until they started rocking against his face. 

“Fuck me with your fingers...” 

New angle again. Lucius hadn’t had to learn so quickly on the fly in bed since he’d first given Izzy an order. He slid two fingers home and Jim’s hand slid into his hair, not quite pulling, but definitely a firm hold. He fucked into them as he flicked his tongue over and over their clit. It took longer than the average blow job, but Jim was much more responsive than a lot of guys. They groaned and rocked against him, tugged at his hair and as they got closer, they actually talked, 

“Just like that..” they mumbled, “ fuck, Lucius please...harder. More....” 

When they came a second time, he could tell much more easily, the hot slick of them coating his tongue and his mouth. His chin too. He pulled away a little, only to find that Jim was holding his head in place. When he went on licking, they didn’t pull away, but road his tongue through the aftershocks. 

“You’ve never done that before?” they demanded as he pulled back at last, catching his breath. 

“Nope,” he assured them. “Doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” they half-laughed, half-groaned, “you’re doing really good.” 

“...is it rude to say I think I need to wipe my face?” 

“Nope.,” they grinned. “You got me going really good. Not surprised. You can use my t-shirt since you gotta wear yours home.” 

Lucius groped for it, found the fabric and wiped off his chin and mouth. The taste lingered, but not the way spunk could sometimes. He reached for his glass of water, took a sip and set it back down. 

“Wow.” He laughed. “I kind of can’t believe that just happened, but it was really hot.” 

“Yeah?” Jim checked his face as if he might be lying, then smiled when he nodded vigorously. “Cool. You want to fuck me?” 

“I would love that if you’d trust me to do it. Condoms are a must though. Haven’t been tested in a few weeks.” 

“I don’t think we have any,” Jim wrinkled up their nose. 

“Lucky for you, I’m always prepared.” Reaching into his front pocket (why was he still wearing pants? Convenient at the moment though), he pulled out a foil packet. 

“Lucius Black, Good Times Boy Scout,” Oluwande laughed. “You got lube in there too?” 

“Of course.” 

“You won’t need it,” Jim reached for him, tugging Lucius back up to kiss him. It was sloppier, but that was almost hotter. Precise, accurate Jim kissing him open mouthed and hungry was its own turn on. 

With a few quick moves, Lucius shimmied out of his pants. He’d forgone underwear today which had been a genius move, he decided as Jim’s clever long fingers wrapped around his cock and gave it an interested long caress. 

“He’s not much bigger than you,” Jim said and it took Lucius a second to realize they were talking to Oluwande. “But you’re definitely thicker.” 

“It’s not a competition,” OIuwande said airly. “I know what to do with it.” 

“You do,” Jim grinned, then turned their attention back to Lucius. “I’m going to get on top. Do it the way I like. You good with that?” 

“Hell yeah,” he matched their wild smile. “I love that for us.” 

Which was how he wound up sitting on the couch he’d spent many enjoyable friendly evenings, utterly naked, hands on Jim’s hips and watching as they arranged him as they wanted. At last they seemed satisfied as they grasped the base of his cock, holding it at attention their grip intensely warm even through the condom, 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Me too,” they winked and then sank down. 

Through the condom, the strong, warm grip wasn’t terribly different from what he was used to. The angle was fun though. Jim was much closer than his lovers could usually get when penetrated. It was downright easy to slide his arms up their back and put his mouth to good use one of their already pinked up nipples. 

“Oooooh,” they moaned. They rocked up slow and sank all the way back down. 

They settled into a sticky sweet rhythm, Lucius rocking up against them as they slid down, retreating as they rose. Jim liked taking the full length and almost separating entirely which started Lucius’ spine tingling. He loved a slow fuck, the almost meditative state of it. Jim reached down into their folds, rocking their fingers over their clit.

“I could do that,” Lucius offered. 

“Yeah?” Jim leaned down to kiss him, “cute. Maybe if there’s a next time.” 

They rocked together, time losing meaning, even as Lucius fought tenaciously for control of the climax building in his gut. He refused to do anything, but the metronome pace Jim had set. And then all at once Jim bit off an ragged moan and clenched down hard around him, shaking a little in his grip. 

“Yeah?” He watched their face. 

“Uhhuh,” their blissed out state was obvious, their usually tightly drawn face gone a little slack. 

“They like if you end giving to them full blast,” Oluwande suggested, though he could’ve been speaking an ocean away for how hard it was for Lucius to register. 

“Really?” Lucius licked his lips. 

“I can take whatever you’ve got, Black,” they shoved down pointedly. 

“Oh, it’s fucking on,” he grinned. 

Lucius might not like to lift weights or go for runs, but he got in a startlingly amount of his preferred forms of exercise. He considered the different of their statures and the changed angels. Carefully he braced Jim with his arms, sliding them up their back to grip their shoulders and then leaned them back to give him better access. 

Then he started thrusting like a machine, short, hard strokes that made Jim rattle off a series of punched out moans that cascaded one on top of the other as Lucius bent his head and put in his back into it. He could feel his orgasm coming like a train and doubled his efforts, Jim’s moans becoming nearly screams as he thrust a last few times, coming hard enough to rob him of breath for an instant. 

“Fuckfuckuck...”Jim moaned, reaching between their legs to rub hard against themselves one last time.Then they came hard around his spent cock and he shuddered, oversensitized and blitzed out.  

Spent, but still aware of his friend in his grasp, Lucius shifted and drew Jim towards him, until they sagged against him. He kissed their shoulder, rubbed their back. 

“Thank you.” he whispered into their ear. “That was beautiful. You were amazing.” 

“Shut up,” they muttered, but didn’t draw away. If anything they held him closer. 

In a few minutes, Lucius would get off the couch, toss the condom and put his clothes back on. Oluwande would hug him, an assurance that all was well, and Jim would kiss him goodbye. He’d carry the memory of that night with him always. Remember it as a beautiful gift. 

Now though, he just breathed in Jim’s citrus, sweat and sex smell, rocking them both a little as they came down from the high of it all. 

“Love you,” Lucius confided. 

“Yeah,” Jim smiled into his shoulder. He could feel the shape of their lips there and feel their pleasure against every inch of his body.  “Hard same.”

[escapedartgeek]

3-5 things associated with your muse.

emotions / feelings:

01. determination

02. exhaustion

03. self-reflection.

greetings:

01. "how's it going?"

02. "anything new?"

03. "hey, hey - been a minute."

colors:

01. lavender, but they do reach into the darker purples as well

02. black

03. one would be surprised by how much orange/pink shows up sometimes

scents:

01. there's some kind of tea tree or something akin to that oil in either their hair care or lotions. so that's a baseline smell.

02. there's a slightly .. artificial smell, especially if they are just working on a project. so marker, paint smells are not uncommon with them.

03. sometimes like coffee. especially a mocha in the morning.

clothing:

01. button-ups with rolled up sleeves, jeans and long sweaters.

02. custom made band tees or other designs with flowing mid knee skirts and boots. sometimes with a bomber jacket.

03. if they must dress up more - striped pants, or tops with solid bottoms- dark purple, black or richer red colors with silver accents.

objects:

01. sketchbook, probably several - to keep track of drafts and ideas that they are jetting down while out and about.

02. set of pens, markers, pencils. to help jot down different visuals or sketches.

03. phone to keep track of who they are meeting with, and where they are going in a given day.

vices / bad habits:

01. a lot of withdrawal. if they kind of suspect that they don't really have a place with someone, it's often easier for them to just leave people alone than to return. they have tried to get better at asking before they just disappear on someone over the years but that is something they have struggled with.

02. overworking - they do get especially dedicated to getting things done and because they know they have a higher capacity than most, they try to make the most of that often to their own detriment. and then get annoyed when people try to take advantage of them like.. you've got to take the pauses first to enforce pauses you demand from other people.

03. there is a mischievous streak that shows up for them, especially if they have been exasperated throughout a day. so they will just .. lightly toy with people's perceptions the next time they get tried - just for a little bit of catharsis.

body language:

01. they tap their toes or drum their fingers on nearby surfaces. sometimes they have a specific song in mind that the rhythm to which may come out as they do so.

02. they use their eyes in very expressive ways - like a good look at them will give you a sense of how they are going to respond even before they say a word. and that is even if they choose to talk at all.

03. they do fiddle with the bottom of their jackets, shirts. or they will toy with one of their curls if they are waiting and feeling a bit distracted.

aesthetics:

01. very afrosurreal - always on the fringes - incorporating multiple influences from history, current styles and space into their being. on the move, there's a casual rhythm ease - with a certain lurking tension beneath that people aren't sure exactly what that's about. but there's always... something. i'm a virgo actually captures the vibe quite a bit.

02. deserts. having grown up in a strange small town in the middle of the desert, you can really never get that sense for the dry heat and all the bold colors that they had seen out of them. there's a hardiness, a willingness and ability to survive on very little or the unexpected.

03. zine making, collages - putting together a lot of disparate pieces and imagery to make something new out of it. i suppose the process of making a mixtape can play into this too.

songs (in no order):

01. lonnie liston smith - expansions

02. big joanie - what are you waiting for?

03. roy ayers - searching

tagged by: @samuhelll tagging: @temporalobjects [ for muse of choice], @bewitchingbaker @hellfollowed [for muse of choice]

[ask-missmargiezelle]

What are your thoughts on Miss Emily? I find she's a very kind lady, but she can be scarily stern at times...

“Dr. Dyer? Gosh, she looks so tired all the time… I s’pose the manor hardly leaves room for beauty sleep.”

“I guess I learned to avoid mentioning any ‘settling of debts’ after she patches me up — it always brings this guilty look on her face. Honestly, the doc surprises me! I can’t remember the last time anybody looked after me without expecting some form of… repayment.”

[trivialqueen]

Give me the Janegon goodness.

Forgive me if these are slightly messy or nonsensical. There's a lot running around in my brain about these two, actually trying to capture one of the thoughts and then wrestle it into coherence is difficult.

1. Janine loves jazz music, like vocal, quartet band, played in a smoky bar jazz music. Her parents listened (and danced) to it a lot when she was growing up, her best friend Noelle also performs with a group. So, for her jazz is joyful, it reminds her of her family and it is something she enjoys with her friends. When she eventually introduces Egon to her besties it’s during one of Noelle’s performances/jazz nights. Egon, on the other hand, didn’t grow up listening to jazz. In fact, the only music he listened to, until college, was classical music, especially composers with more mathematical styles like Beethoven. (related, there’s a cool TED-Ed blog post about math and Beethoven if you really want to see both beauty and math in the world around you). Peter and Ray got Egon interested in Rock and Blues, Janine introduced him to jazz. He and Winston both love the opera.

2. Egon is a legs man, and he really likes Janine in pencil skirts. He’s never said this to her (even after they were married!), but she figured it out anyway and 100% used it to her advantage both in the office and at home. His second favorite feature are Janine’s eyes. Janine has a thing for hands and forearms. She also really loves Egon’s smile – it’s a nice smile, also, he only smiles if he’s truly happy or amused, so when he does smile it feels meaningful.

3. NSFW – Let me put it this way, Egon cannot spend so much of his time eating and snacking and then not gleefully offer the same services to his girlfriend (who’s a total snack!). He’s got an oral fixation and is a quick study, and Janine loves that about him. For his part, Egon feels really, really powerful when he can reduce Janine to a babbling mess.

4. Egon loves to cuddle. If he had his way, they’d cuddle all night. However, Egon also flails when he sleeps (kicks, that sort of thing – see the montage in the first movie, he’s all over the place), and Janine can’t sleep well if she’s hot/sweaty. Egon’s a total furnace, so sleeping all cuddled up just isn’t an option. So as a compromise every night, after they turn the light off, they spend a minimum of five minutes cuddling (she usually lays on his chest, sometimes they spoon). Once they actually start to drift off, they move to their respective sides of the bed. Janine had a queen-sized bed for ages and thought that it was more than enough room to sleep. Then she and Egon started sleeping together, and he’s so long that even laying the other side of the bed, he still managed to kick her sometimes. Before a King-sized bed felt decadent, now it’s a necessity.

5. Janine is sensitive to scent, so while she likes perfumes and things, too much can give her a headache (all the cigarette smoke in the firehouse drives her mad, and she’s constantly after the guys to either cut back or quit – it’s an uphill battle). She does wear enough perfume, however, that it’ll linger on Egon’s clothes after time spent with her. When Egon was first analyzing his feelings for Janine, he kept trying to rationalize them away with every study he’d ever read about the power of scent. ‘Oh, she’s just on your mind because your blazer smells like her perfume and that triggers…. Blah, blah, blah’. Eventually, he realizes that he likes having his blazer smell like her.

6. Janine is a little bit psychic, all women in her family are (all the Melnitz men have some flavor of color-blindness. These facts have helped more than one family member with their gender identity). Janine’s sister, Delores “Lori”, is a nail tech. Whereas Janine gets strong vibes (and a bit of precognition), Lori gains insight into people when she touches them. This makes her an incredibly popular manicurist because she understands her clients more than anyone else. Egon has a younger brother named Johann (I realize, now, that apparently Egon’s a twin with a brother named Elon, but when I was writing BB&C I decided to basically chuck out any information that wasn’t directly addressed in the first film, (except for some shinny things from other media that the corvid instinct in me couldn’t help but collect) so I’m ignoring this fact). Johann was written off more or less by Darwin at an early age, he was the younger son and extremely headstrong – he didn’t bend to his manipulations the way Egon took everything Darwin said to heart. Johann was super rebellious and only accelerated a few grades in school, took five years to finish his B.S., was briefly a history major before finally becoming a successful mathematician. He almost didn’t get his PhD because he didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction, however, he truly, legitimately loves math and loves studying it. Johann teaches Calculus at a Midwestern university; he’s got twins of his own and a partner who’s a linguist. Up until recently he and his brother only exchanged birthday cards.

7. Janine and Egon lived together for a long time before they got married. Eventually, however, the do decide to make it official (the events with Viggo, plus finding out they were expecting helped seal the deal). It started out as a conversation about just going to the courthouse, but quickly they realized their family and friends would kill them if they didn’t have some sort of celebration. After they eloped at City Hall, they invited everyone back to the firehouse for a party (January 1990; new decade, new life). There was a buffet from various beloved take out establishments, a good-sized cake, a kiddy pool full of beer and drinks, and Janine’s friends all made mix tapes for the dancing portion of the evening. Janine’s family and friends were there, as was Egon’s mother and Uncle Cyrus, plus the Busters and their respective dates - so in the end it was quite the party. The kiddy pool stayed at the firehouse, and in the years since the wedding the pool has been used as a cooler, it’s been used as a kiddy pool, they’ve also just filled it up on really hot days and sat in lawn chairs, beers in hand, with their feet in the cold water while they watched the sunset from the roof of the firehouse. I should also note, the pool is plastic with a “Little Mermaid” motif all over it since the Disney film came out in 1989.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Unexpected Kisses

Pairing: BNHA boys x reader

Warnings: Talks about anxiety for a bit in Tamaki’s part

Request: Hi!! Uhm,, I kinda,,, don't talk to users on this app so idk where to send requests AHAJSHSJHS but I do know that you write BNHA stuff so,,,, if it's not too much, maybe Tamaki, Midoriya, Denki and Kirishima (separate) reacting to their s/o's suddenly scattering their face with kisses and complimenting them out of the blue?? you don't have to do all of them tho :''D thank you!! <33

A/N:

I don’t have much to say about this one, other than sending thanks to @aahilovetheatre​ for sharing such a cute request with me! Sorry I’m slow about getting these out, but I am working at my request list the best that I can.

Characters: Midoriya, Kirishima, Kaminari, Amajiki

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Midoriya:

● You know, he really was just minding his own business

● Izuku sat at his desk, taking notes from a textbook like he did every Thursday evening. You were laying on his bed, reading a book for class. Every minute or so, the silence of the room would be broken by the scratching of a pencil or the turn of a page

● At some point, you started getting a little bored with your reading. The words on the page began to feel less and less comprehensible as your mind started to wander elsewhere

● Your boyfriend cleared his throat, and your fickle attention snapped to him

● He was so absorbed in his work, it was cute. The way his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned over the page; and how he tapped the worn down All Might eraser at the end of his pencil against his lips. His lips . . . his cheeks . . . . Yep, you were getting an idea

● Sliding a post-it note into your book to mark your progress, you set it down and stood up. Izuku, of course, didn't notice, still deep in concentration

● You came up behind him, glancing at the paper from over his shoulder

● He finally turned and straightened, meeting your eyes with his own forest green. "Hey, (Y/N), what's up?"

● You took the opportunity to slide down into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I needed a break for a moment."

● "O-oh." Izuku's voice had taken on a higher pitch, cheeks flushing with warmth and color at your sudden proximity

● He dropped his pencil and wrapped his arms around your waist, beginning to relax into your hold

● It was then that you put your hands on either side of his face and started pressing kisses all over him, leaving no area of skin untouched by your lips

● You could feel the way his cheeks began to burn a bright red under your fingers, nervously giggling at the ticklish sensation of your breath and skin against his

● Once you were finally satisfied, you sat back, simply gazing at his face lovingly for a moment

● "What was that for?" he asked. “I—I mean, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy it—” You wondered if it was your own heart or his that you felt beating so rapidly

● "I just . . . needed you,” you cut in. “You're so cute when you study." You relaxed your grip on his cheeks, sliding back in to plant yet another kiss on his forehead. "You work so hard . . . ." You began to graze your lips slowly over to his temple, before pressing them back to his skin in a syrupy sweet moment

● You proceeded to praise him, whispering how strong he was, and how proud you were to have him as your boyfriend, and how attractive you found him. After every other sentence, you left another kiss on his face, whether it was his cheek, forehead, or nose. You even made a silent game out of trying to see how many of his freckles you could kiss

● By the end of it, Izuku looked almost like he was about to cry. He'd loved every minute of it and had hung onto your every word. Even so, he still couldn't help but wonder what brought all this on

● "(Y/N), what's—why would you—?"

● You poked at his nose gently. "Because I love you."

● He wrapped his own arms tighter around you, crushing you closer into his chest for a hug. "I love you too, (Y/N). So much."

● You rubbed his back while he stroked your hair for a moment, just letting yourselves hold each other

● "Do you have work you need to do?" you finally asked. "Sorry, I interrupted you."

● "No no, that's okay. We can stay like this for a little bit longer."

● You hummed, nuzzling further into the crook of his neck

● No doubt about it, Izuku's head was already spinning with schemes to surprise you and get you back. It was only a matter of when

____________

Kirishima:

● Kirishima was just hanging out on the couch, casually scrolling through various feeds on his phone

● That is, until you came in the room, intent on sneaking up behind him

● You went up behind the couch as softly as you could, before suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck from behind

● He jumped, startled for a moment, until he realized it was you

● "Hey, there," he said, rolling his head back so he was looking upside down at you

● You giggled and kissed his forehead. "Hi."

● "Come 'ere." He patted the empty cushion next to him

● Without needing to be told twice, you circled around to the other side of the couch, settling onto his lap

● "So, how have you been—mmph—"

● You'd cut him off with a kiss to his lips; one he quickly grinned and melted into

● "Woah, okay," he breathed when you let him go. "Is there something going on?"

● "Hmm, no," you admitted, reaching up to boop his nose. "I just love you. Feel like showing it."

● "Okay, then. I can get behind that." He put your foreheads together and nuzzled his nose against yours. "How are you going to do that?"

● "By telling you how amazing you are," you said, leaning in to kiss his forehead again

● His blush nearly tripled. "O-oh. I—"

● "Like, how you're so strong and manly," you whispered, lips grazing the skin of his cheek. "And you've worked so hard to get where you are now. You're brave, and I'm so proud to say that you're my boyfriend."

● Your words went on as you languidly pressed kisses against his skin. After a few minutes, you’d worked him up so much, a tear or two spilled from his eyes, and you kissed those away as well

● "I love you," you whispered again, dipping to give him a full kiss on the lips

● When you leaned back, he simply gazed up at you in awe. He was a man in love, and it was as though you were some sort of deity or angel sent from the skies above

● "I—um, I don't really know what to say," he said, giving a weak chuckle and wiping at his eye. "Wow, uh, I wasn't expecting that."

● "Did you enjoy it?" you asked, pulling yourself into his chest a little more

● "Yeah! I'm just—not very used to it is all." He trailed off, glancing to the floor as his thoughts began to take flight on their own

● "You'd better get used to it," you said, tilting his chin so he could look at you again. "And I meant everything I said. If you try to deny it, then I'm going to say it again. But this time I won't be so nice."

● "Oh, really?" Eijirou asked, a smirk drawing a corner of his mouth up. "And what would that look like?"

● "Well, I guess I'd have to tickle you," you said, shrugging as if it were an unavoidable fact. Because it was. "And I wouldn't stop until you admit that what I'm saying is the truth."

● "Hmm, I'll keep that in mind then." He suddenly pushed you back a little from his chest so you were facing him again. "But I think a little payback's in order. Say, Pebble," he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on your nose, "you're looking pretty cute today."

● It was a long time before either of you moved from the couch

____________

Kaminari:

● Denki was just laying on his bed, alone in his room, reading

● This particular part of his book wasn't particularly interesting, and he was considering leaving it to come back to some other time

● Nevertheless, his eyes lingered on the page, skimming through sentences that did nothing to capture his attention. Maybe it would be easier for him to pick back up if he left on a better note

● You had other plans, though

● The silence in his room was broken when you flung his door open, running in without scarcely bothering to swing it all the way shut again behind you

● Kaminari barely had time to lower his book when you came barreling into his lap, throwing your arms around him in a mighty hug

● "Oof—(Y/N)-chan! What's going on?"

● "You're getting a vibe check."

● You adjusted yourself just enough so you would both be comfortable before peppering his face with kisses, rapidly moving over every key point

● "Ah—what?!" Denki started giggling at your actions, and soon enough you were unable to fight back the smile and laughs that were freely expressed by your own lips

● "Denki! If I'm laughing like this, then I can't kiss you!"

● "Then what if I kiss you?"

● He pecked the tip of your nose, making you giggle again as you eased in closer to his face. "No. It's my turn. I love you and I need you right now."

● "(Y/N), we just saw each other an hour ago."

● "Too long," you pouted, going back to planting kisses on his cheeks, although this time you were slower and more deliberate. "I want to make sure that you know how much you're loved. By me."

● Kaminari's cheeks flushed a bit. "Really? O-okay."

● You busied your hands by rubbing at his back and shoulders, your lips whispering praises into his ear

● "I love spending time with you," you said. "I love your jokes, and hearing your laugh always brightens up my day."

● Each sentence had him burning up, and the slow kisses you'd leave between sentences did nothing to help. Any minute now, he felt like he could short circuit

● When you finally leaned back, Denki stared at you, wide-eyed. "Where did that come from?"

● "I just felt like it." You shrugged

● "Wow, I—I think I need a minute."

● He glanced off to the side, touching at one of the countless places you'd kissed him. "You're so cute, babe," he muttered, grinning into his hand

● "Yeah?" you giggled

● "Of course." Denki wrapped his arms around you again so you were flush against his chest. "And you know what else?"

● "What?"

● "I'd say it's cuddle time." He pulled you down so you were lying on top of him, then rolled to his side so you were still facing each other. "And it's also my turn. I'm not going to be the only one who's getting compliments today."

● And with that, he held you; generously peppering your face with kisses as he professed everything he loved about you

● It was a wonderful end to his afternoon

____________

Amajiki:

● Tamaki was alone in his room. He had turned the lights off and sat down in his bed. His head rested in his hands as he tried to stop the shaking, but it was almost as if there was nothing he could do

● He'd just had an awful day and his mind wouldn't stop going back to everything that had gone wrong

● First he'd had to do a presentation, which he could have sworn he was ready for. But fate—or at least, his anxiety—had other plans

● It was as if he was watching himself from outside of his body; watching as his own throat closed up and he lost the capability to speak. Watched as he stumbled over his own thoughts as his tongue betrayed him. He spat out an incomprehensible string of "um"s, and spoke too fast, and his thoughts wouldn't connect with one another

● And then, directly after that, he'd been unable to find either you nor Mirio. You both must have been busy with your own work, but seeing you was something that Tamaki always looked forward to. He could make it through any kind of day as long as one of you spoke your kind words to him, or showed him your sun-bright smiles

● But he'd been deprived of that, forced to retreat to his dorm room to sulk alone

● His mind focused on the memory of his words, replaying them over and over again

● It was so much, he almost didn't hear the knock at his door

● "Tamaki? Are you in there?" He immediately recognized your voice

● "Yeah," he called back glumly. He was glad he would finally get to see you, but now he wasn't sure what it would take to get him out of such thoughts

● You let yourself in, quietly shutting his door before making your way over to his bed. "Are you doing okay?" you asked him. "I've barely seen you at all today. How'd your presentation go?"

● "Awful," he responded. "I locked up again. Everyone was staring at me and I was under so much pressure." He paused and sighed, putting his face in his hand again

● "Hey, it's going to be okay," you said, putting a hand on his back. "I'm sure your teacher understands. And you're a really good student and hero."

● "Hm," he responded, not looking at you

● "You don't believe me?" you asked, reaching up to caress his cheek. "It's true."

● He still made no move to respond, merely sighing and leaning into your touch

● "Is it okay if I hold you?" you asked. "Would that help at all?"

● You knew it could be a little risky being too forward with touching Tamaki. It was always best to ask first

● He finally met your eyes, nodding. You both moved around on the bed until you were comfortably seated in his lap, thighs wrapped around his hips

● You held onto each other in a close hug, and soon your hands were rubbing little circles on Tamaki's back. You began to whisper things to him, telling him everything would be alright

● "Hey, hey. It's just you and me now, no one else. It's okay."

● Finally his shoulders began to settle from their tense, hunched position

● You nuzzled your nose against his ear before giving his cheekbone a small peck

● "Feeling better?" you asked

● "Yeah, a little," he admitted, his face still buried in your shoulder. "Thanks for this."

● "Of course."

● You pulled back so you could face him, unable to stop yourself from placing a kiss directly on the tip of his nose

● You grinned at how his face scrunched up a bit, so you repeated the action. Soon enough, you were leaving little kisses all over his face, and the boy beneath you even let out a few chuckles at the sensation

● "I love you," you said, watching as his pre-existing blush only deepened

● "I love you too," he said. "You always know how to make me feel better."

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

[mysticeyeliner]

How I Draw Portraits (Part 2) The Rest

Step 1: Ears. I sometimes have trouble placing these, so take another picture of yourself if something, like hair, was in the way the first time. Now, the details in here can get a little hard and I always do them wrong from memory, so I have one bookmarked closeup of my ear for it. They don’t have to look perfect, hardly anyone stares at ears. (I’m sorry he looks like Jezz Bezos here)

Step 2: Neck! Maybe take a guess again, as you may see here, I didn't do it a great size, but I fixed it as I went. If you have a posed reference with a turned neck and shoulders, this is the expressive part. Shoulders are easy to move up and down, they're kind of simple I guess. Here I drew them too low down, and fixed as I went.

2b: Those...neck things and the collarbone! I love them. They add detail and also make it so much easier to show the twist of the pose. They are pretty simple to capture, really use your reference and your spatial sense here. The throat hollow is fun to draw and the collarbones will probably get cut off by the shirt, but if at least You know where they are, it will help.

Step 3: The hair. Unless you’re doing something basic like long hair, it’s pretty important to have the reference of the style you’re drawing. Remember that it often extends into the forehead, and adds height to the view of the head. Unless it’s very short or flat hair, it will do that. There are two places (on each side) on the forehead where it reaches in, above the eyes. Sometimes I forget about sideburns, also, puffier hair will not fade behind the ear and will add width to the sides of the head. Here, I drew some basic lines before I added in the detail lines, which are pretty similar, just more numerous. Unless you are working only in pencil, try not to make these too thick and dark, or the pencil and color supply will try and mix. Also, if you’re doing long hair, make sure to erase the shoulders behind the hair. Also fun: styles that aren’t modern and examining what’s different.

Step 4: Eyebrows. Normally I would do them lighter, but this actor has darker, more manicured brows. Do a little bit of examining before you go for it, just to see where the hair sections change directions. Then you can do whatever. They usually look pretty wild in there. Add a slit if you want it to be even cooler ;)

Step 4: Eyes! I think I leave these to the end because otherwise they would look too alive too early on /hj. Yet again it is important to have the selfie. But I usually take some liberty with their size, shape, and location. You’ll have to make a guess at first of where one goes, and then do your best to match. It’s hard. But is usually works out. The irises add a nice layer of reality to the art, a step up from the zombie-like form we had before. 

4b: Pupils! Okay, my eyes are dark, and I can rarely see my own pupils against my irises, so I usually guess here. Any size will do, but if you have a lighting/sort of vibe in mind, you can be specific. I forgot to take a picture of them here. Just try and center them as best you can.

Skipping ahead to after coloring

Step 5: More on the eyes! Here I have already colored the iris, a seperate part of the process. I take a fine liner pen in black and outline the pupil I have drawn, and add a circle for highlight. I usually draw it in the upper right, but it can be wherever as long as it matches, in most cases. It’s easy to mess up the sizes here, but it will be okay. 

5b: Eyelashes! They’re spaced out and varying lengths, but still try and place them reasonably.

5c: Fill in the pupil, leaving the white bubble of reflection. Optional: add lines for more detail on the irises. Don’t overdue them. Go over the lashes in the liner. Here, I chose to add a bit of color to the waterline, which is optional.

Touch up and details you’d like, and then you’re pretty much done!

Thank you for reading my rambles

[stickeraroundawhile]

And now, for something completely different than yesterday.  I got this smol boi sketchbook from Arteza which has officially become my Fuck Around and Find Out sketchbook for experiments that may or may not look like baby’s first time with jumbo crayons depending on the day.  I don’t like doing loose florals, but I do think practicing loose florals can be helpful in terms of seeing the subject as a single object rather than individual details. Loose florals, to me, are about nailing down the vibe of a plant, its movement in the wind and by the sunrises, and less about those intricate details. But to get a more cohesive finished piece, being able to keep the vibe in mind is important.  Here I grabbed my 6b woodless graphite pencil setting out not to use my eraser (Mr. Tri Tip is there but he was not involved in the making of this spread, he was just there for emotional security) or any blending tools, including my fingers whcih was suuuuper hard because I typically do more blending than I do ladying down graphite. I spent maybe five minutes on this, trying to capture the motion of the petals of this amde up floor growing upward and opening and the thin, irregular edges and then I laid down white chalk where I wanted to brighten the highlights and blur the medium toned values.  On the left I used some Prismacolor col-erase pencils (I did use the erasers here but that’s okay!) and tried to do kind of the same thing, blending two reds and an orange together to make the color less one-dimensional and again convey that upward movement. I used the white pencil just like the white chalk to blur those medium values.  I can’t tell if I love if or if I hate it? I was surprised at how damn uncomfortable I felt during the process of both of these. It wasn’t until the last minute or two on both flowers that I started to really see it and see that I had achieved vaguely what I was wanting, but I think it was a valuable exercise and I may try to do this a few times a week to continue to build that vibe capture I’m after. 

[geometricalien]

1, 4, 6, 10, 12, 16, 22, 31!!

Thank you for the ask Victor!!

1. Coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Coffee mugs and wine glasses for sure. There is something deeply comforting about holding a warm mug in your hands, and wineglasses make me feel fancy which I think is extremely valid

4. How would your elementary school teachers describe you? Oh! Probably would say that I was smart, a little attention seeking, and had a bit of a temper. I remember in 2nd grade being so angry and breaking pencils agahjsdk

6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal, or sportswear? I mean??? Uh??? Pastel, I love a nice light sage color, preppy, I bought like 3 sweaters just last week agshjd, and a tiny drop of grunge, I love my boots and leather/jean jackets and flannels

10. Game you were best at in pe? God that was ages ago like 7 years ago since I took a pe course ahsjdjd I remember the American football section of pe, we went outside and did some flag football and I did pretty good, the person on the football team called me the mvp of the game so theres that agshhd but I think my favorite was color octopus or capture the cone

12. Name of your favorite playlist? looks off into the distance I don't really have a favorite? Like yes, I love my Halloween playlist that puts me in a happy spooky mood, I love my AkaFuri playlist that ended up being my most listened to songs of 2020, I love the playlists that Shayla has made for me, I love random playlists on youtube like this https://youtu.be/7Bvp75M0ezY and this one https://youtu.be/sb237cjXjAQ I'm sorry theres too many good songs and vibes

16. Most comfortable position to sit in? THIS IS THE EASIEST QUESTION, IN RECLINERS I LOVE TO SIT LIKE, 45 DEGREEES OFF FROM SITTING CORRECTLY AND EITHER PULL MY LEGS TO MY CHEST OR HAVE THEM REST OVER THE ARM REST. GOD I LOVE BEING GAY

22. Role model? I have anime characters that inspire me (not quite a role model adhjd) they inspire me to be braver and kinder for example Kirishima. I used to really look up to my sister and I sort of still do, but not as much as I did in middle school or high school. Otherwise, not really? I'm going through a big change with my raised religion and family and lgbt-ness I feel like I am going forward on an untrodden path, the first one to venture away and it's really scary. I haven't really found anyone real who I can look to as a role model for this. but I did have an Uncle/Aunt who was part of the LGBT community decades ago and I think they were happy even though they cut ties with the family, I think about them and it helps me

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? If you asked me 2 days ago this would have been a different answer agdhdj I would wear my dark Jean's with holes, my emerald green sweater, a belt, my denim jacket (peak gay fashion item), and boots. I wore that yesterday and it really empowered me

[yoon-kooks]

Blossom🌸- pt.2

Pairing: Stripper!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Stripper!AU, College!AU

Summary: You decide to give the strip club another chance when your stripper neighbor promises to give you a special treat afterwards.

Warnings: lap dances, stripping, dry humping, blindfolds, thigh riding

Word Count: 4.9k

⤐ Story 2 in the Blossom!Universe; Read Blossom-pt.1 on my masterlist!

A/N: i cant believe i actual wrote d** h****** but it be like that sometime 😔

You’re not one to believe in love so easily, but your latest art assignment calls for something with “pure love”, and what you’re witnessing comes pretty close. So you casually pull out your sketchbook and begin outlining a rough sketch of the scene in front of you.

Your subjects wrestle around, unaware of your gaze, drowning each other in kisses and affection. She sits on top of him as she nips at his skin. He chuckles as he blocks her little bites until he can no longer resist, succumbing to her demands for more attention.

The giggles only stop several minutes later when one of your subjects finally takes notice of you with your pencil in hand.

“Drawing me again, huh?” Jimin sits up on his bed and glances over at you while his white puppy continues to lick his chin. “What’s the assignment this time?”

“To draw something that symbolizes pure love,” you wave the boy over to come take a look at your sketchbook. Intrigued by the topic, Jimin hops off the bed.

“Oh? Am I what comes to mind when you think of pure lo-” He meant to tease you about your potential crush on him, but he can only laugh when he sees your idea of pure love. Him playing with his puppy.

“So pure, right?” You point out a couple of things you’re especially proud of, like the details on the puppy’s paw pads and the feathering of its wagging tail.

“Right…” His lips slowly fall into the shape of a pout as he examines your sketch further. “But why did you draw her so much better than you drew me?”

You know he’s just messing with you, but the dedicated artist in you takes Jimin’s criticism to heart. Looking back at your sketch, it’s true that his body came out looking a lot more underdeveloped like a stick person next to a very realistic puppy with individual strokes of fur. And as funny as it is to look at, it’s a technical issue with your art that you’ve been trying to fix.

“I already told you I have a lot more experience drawing animals than I do with humans,” you explain. It’s not that you’re necessarily terrible at drawing humans, but your lack of comfort with them really shows in comparison to animals. That’s why you’ve recruited your stripper neighbor as your muse to help you find that comfort.

“I guess you just need more experience with humans then,” Jimin cocks his head to the side, not-so-subtly taking your hand into his. He attempts to interlace his fingers with yours, but you can’t take a hint so he settles for a very friendzoned handshake. “Think about it: you started with drawing only animals, then you drew me a couple of times, and then you moved up to animal-to-human interactions. Shouldn’t the next step be human-to-human interactions?”

“You have a point,” you nod, rather enjoying the pleasant feeling of holding his hand. “But I only have one human model, aka you.”

The boy stares your hands still clasped together and laughs, “Are you not a human?”

“I can’t be my own model and draw at the same time…” You do a messy scribbling gesture with your free hand.

“You don't have to draw at the same time,” Jimin captures your free hand and pulls you down onto the bed with him. You’d think laying on a bed with a stripper would be overwhelming for someone as wholesome as yourself, but you do get a sense of ease with him. Maybe it’s his eyesmile, or the clumps of dog fur on his dark shirt that remind you he’s still your dorky boy next door. Either way, you feel comfortable because it’s him you’re with. “Just experience it with me.”

“Experience what?” You feel his warmth radiating towards your body. Another pleasant feeling. “Handholding? Hugs? Kisses? Cuddling? Sleeping together? Se-”

“A lot of things if you’d like,” Jimin shushes you with an alluring stare. “Do you want to do all those things?”

“That would be ideal, yes,” you nod eagerly. If it means your art will feel more authentic and sentimental, you’d gladly engage in these interactions with Jimin. “For science, of course.”

“Right… for science…” He gives you a thumbs-up, although the corners of his lips seem to curve downward.

The frown doesn’t sit well with you, so you wiggle your hands out of his grasp and simply mirror them against his palms. Slowly you interlace each of your fingers between his, one-by-one until there’s no finger left behind. You pay special attention to the boy’s expression when you do this, but it softens less than you had hoped.

“Actually…” Jimin say, breaking the handhold. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple of times before rolling off the bed. “I forgot about work.”

“Oh right…” It’s your turn to frown. You forgot about it too. Not just the fact that the boy has work in an hour, but also that his job requires him to satisfy the naughty needs of other people besides yourself. You’re not the only one who wants a taste of Park Jimin. “I should let you go then.”

Jimin watches as you gather your art supplies off his desk and crouch down to say farewell to the white puppy. He doesn’t say anything until your hand is on the doorknob. “You can tag along if you’d like, Y/N.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I really shouldn’t g-” Your eyes and mind drift away as the boy strips his shirt off with his back to you. You never knew back muscles could look like that—good to know for future reference. After he throws on a clean shirt free of dog fur, however, you push the boy’s toned body out of mind to finish your sentence. “I shouldn’t go since strip clubs aren’t really my thing, remember? Besides, I need to work on this art assignment some more. It’s due in a week.”

“A week is more than enough time,” Jimin raises his eyebrows at you and your sketchbook. “And do I need to remind you that the strip club is where you found art inspiration in me? So it couldn’t hurt to go again, right?”

You don’t answer him because you feel like it could hurt to go again. Not in regards to your art, but to something else.

“If you come, I’ll treat you to something really special afterwards. How about that?” He holds out his hand, giving you one last chance to change your mind. The special treat is tempting, especially if it’s your favorite sweet dessert. Besides, you’ve been working diligently with your art, so you know you’ve earned yourself a treat of some sort. And if Jimin is thoughtful enough to offer you that treat, who are you to refuse?

After a back and forth debate in your head, you finally take his hand and allow yourself to be pulled back to the place where you and the boy first met.

“What’s this special treat you’re talking about?”

“Oh you’ll see,” the boy snickers in a rather sinister tone.

-

Something about the strip club has changed since your first visit. There are still attractive strippers, there are still generous tippers, and there’s still your favorite spot in the secluded corner of the room. But it’s the whole vibe that’s changed. You don’t feel as intimidated by the sweaty bare bodies of the strippers or the thirsty screams of the audience. It could be because, unlike before, you know you’re not alone this time.

Jimin sits you down at your favorite spot and waits for you to get all situated with your sketchbook. “Can I buy you a drink before I have to go get ready for the show?”

“Just some water, please,” you say. The boy only laughs at your innocent response before disappearing into the crowd to fetch your requested beverage from the bar. After a short minute, your eye catches him striding back with a fancy glass of ice water in hand. He isn’t doing anything special, but he still manages to look stunning amongst everyone else. You even notice he’s turning quite a few heads, despite all the on-duty strippers vying for their attention. It’s as if the spotlight’s on him.

“Y/N, you’re already drooling and I haven’t even performed yet,” he teases as he hands you your water. You chug it down, hoping to relieve your thirst, but it’s not enough.

“Then go,” you give him a light shove with a hmph to send him off. “I’ll be waiting for my special treat afterwards.”

“Anticipate it, Kitten.” He has the audacity to not only call you Kitten, but also give you the cockiest smirk you have ever witnessed before heading backstage. You suppose that’s just his flirty stripper switch turning on.

Once you finally have some time to yourself, you sip on your water, casually people-watching from your quiet corner. The rest of the room is flooded with excitement, flashing with sparking lights, a mixure of moving color. If you had to pick a color palette for a strip club, what would it be? That depends on whether a certain boy is in the room or not.

You glance over to a familiar mint-haired stripper getting intimate with a gorgeous female in a nearby booth. She bites her ruby red lips, snaking her arms around his waist and pulling him closer to slip a generous handful of cash into his ass pocket. As thanks, the stripper hovers over her lap with swaying hips to the beat of the stereo as he lets her hands explore his bare upper half. Their eyes are locked, exchanging looks of… lust? Satisfaction? Greed? As a mere bystander, you’re unsure of the mood, so your color palette would be a rainbow muddled with a lot of grey area.

“Oh I remember you, Baby Picasso.” The mint stripper somehow made his way over to your corner while you were busy swatching your palette. The nearly blank page in your sketchbook catches his eye. “Here to draw our Jiminie again?” Yes.

“Not necessarily,” you say. “But he was the one who brought me back here.”

“Ah, customer loyalty at its finest,” he nods. “That kid attracts most of our regulars.”

“Is he really that popular?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the aura’s different when he’s on stage.” He leans over your table and points at your grey-toned swatches in the corner of the sketch page. “Doesn’t it feel like the club becomes more… vibrant when Jiminie’s around?”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you press a finger to your lips as the wheels start turning in your head.

“But don’t let yourself get too caught in The Jiminie Effect. Otherwise you might end up getting hurt.” The mint stripper shrugs at you before the arm of a bold customer swipes him away. “Let me know if you ever want a taste of The Suga Rush, Baby Picasso~”

You wanted to ask what he meant by “getting hurt” from Jimin, but you’re pretty sure you already know. Jimin is an incredibly charming boy with a way of captivating an entire room, and you’re happy he’s found success as a popular stripper. That being said, you can’t help but also feel a little disheartened that there are so many others who share the same feelings for him.

Regardless, you’re at the strip club to support Jimin and collect the special treat that he promised you. Surely your relationship with the boy holds a bit more weight than the others. So you decide to get out of your own head.

Scarlet red. That’s the color you see when Jimin comes out onto the main stage with a silky red blindfold covering his eyes. The first thing you think is: wow, how the fuck is this guy not tripping or falling off the stage when he can’t even see in front of him? The second thing you think is: tiddies.

His open blazer flashes his nipples (and the rest of his gorgeous chest) as he graces the stage. It honestly looks more like a sensual take on contemporary dance rather than stripping at first. Even his hip thrusts have a flare of elegance to them. After all, Jimin’s a contemporary dance student, but the way he incorporates such a graceful genre of dance into his stripping performance shows how much of an artist he truly is.

But once the blindfold comes off, so does everything else. Jimin’s killer gaze, in addition to his taunting tongue, earns him a shower of bills on the floor of the stage as his performance comes to a close. Unlike the other strippers at the club, he does not interact as closely with the audience or make his rounds through the room. Instead, he makes a proposal.

“Tonight, I’m doing something a little different.” He picks his blindfold up off the floor and strokes it as he speaks to the audience. “I’ll be giving one lucky person a private lap dance and-”

An eruption of screams fills the room along with a surge of money being waved around before Jimin can even finish his sentence. He waits for everyone to quiet down, but the aroused crowd does the opposite. The rowdiness persists because everyone’s trying to be louder than the person next to them in order to catch their favorite stripper’s attention. That must be The Jiminie Effect.

And although the boy never got to finish his explanation, you assume the private lap dance has something to do with the red blindfold in his hand and will most likely be given to the highest tipper. Lucky them, you suppose.

Rather than throw some of your nonexistent money at the boy, you instead take the opportunity to do some quick sketches of Jimin’s contemporary performance while it’s still fresh in your memory. You want to capture his fluid motions and his undying passion for performing. With all of this and the blindfold in mind, you decide on a color palette. Scarlet red, a color of burning passion and sensuality, is an obvious pick. However, there’s another color you wish to incorporate-

When you take a peek back up at the stage for that other color, you’re surprised to see Jimin staring right at you, despite a huge sum of money being waved right in front of him by an expensive-looking woman. He mouths something for you to interpret.

“You,” his lips read.

“Me?�� You don’t exactly know how to feel about the situation, but it doesn’t sit well with you. “Not me.”

He nods at you, still wanting it to be you.

You shake your head to end the conversation, but when people start turning around in your direction to see who has Jimin’s attention, you get up from your seat. Not to take Jimin up on his offer, but to excuse yourself from the club. You dislike strip clubs after all.

-

Back at your dorm, you sit at your desk, fleshing out some of your sketches of the blindfolded Jimin. You sculpt out his toned body and shade in a vibrant red flare to emphasize his illuminating aura on stage. Even then, your sketch is missing something. You’re missing something.

Knock. You check the time on your clock. It’s just past midnight, right around the time you’d assume strip clubs close for the night.

“Hi-” Jimin tries to say, but you close the door as soon as you open it.

Knock. You don’t open the door this time, so the boy starts talking from the other side.

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me, but I-”

“Of course I’m mad at you,” you make a tsk sound. “I can’t believe you were going to choose me over all that money in front of you. Didn’t you see that Gucci lady at the front waving the wad of cash with your name on it? You almost gave up all that money for me. Fool.”

There’s a pause of silence before Jimin tries another attempt at getting you to open the door. Knock.

You open the door this time. The boy has a puzzled expression on his face.

“Wait, you’re not mad that your special treat went to someone else?” He blinks at you.

“A lap dance was the special treat you were talking about earlier?” You give him a duck face because you’ve made a grave mistake. “I thought we were getting ice cream or something.”

“Uhh well… we could get ice cream if you really want to? But my intention was for you to take that lap dance. It was meant for you, you know,” he chuckles over his failed plan.

“I really didn’t realize it was meant for me… I guess I’m really that dense, aren’t I?” Now you feel bad for thinking you’d be getting ice cream over a lap dance. Jimin was only trying to show that you were special to him, and you rejected him like an oblivious idiot. “I’m sorry, Jimin. If I had known, I’d-”

“We can still do it if you’d like.” He pulls out a silky red cloth from his pocket. “Perks of having a stripper neighbor, right?” You nod.

Waiting on your bed, you watch as the boy tries to hype himself up with the blindfold in his fists.

“I can help you tie it behind your head if you want.” You hop up from the bed to help him, but you’re wrong again. He backs you up until the back of your knees hit your bedframe and your ass falls onto the mattress. Suddenly his thighs surround your lap and his abs are in your face. Thankfully he decided to keep his shirt on for this one.

“Can I put the blindfold on you?” He dangles the red cloth before your eyes. It was for you, not him. And as intimidating as it is to make yourself so vulnerable, you’re intrigued.

“Sure… but you don’t want me to watch you?” You take one last look at his seductive gaze and voluptuous lips before your eyes are covered by the soft yet very kinky fabric.

“It’s something new that I wanted to try,” Jimin speaks in his normal voice before switching over to a lower, more suggestive tone. “As an artist, you rely a lot on your sight, right? Well I’m curious to see which senses will come alive when we take away your sight.”

Right away, you sniff out an alluring aroma of warm spices with naughty undertones. The blindfold must be drenched in cologne, but why are you only noticing it now? Or perhaps it’s the boy’s own intoxicating scent that you’re being enticed by. Either way, you must really like the scent because your nose is twitching like a bunny to get a better whiff.

The aroma continues to grow stronger as you feel finger tips graze ever so slightly against the back of your hand. The chilling sensation tickles more than anything, but then the boy lifts your hands and places them right at his waist.

“Tug if you want me closer, Kitten,” he whispers into your ear to give you a taste of the closeness before leaning back. Naturally, your eager little fingers curl into the threads of his shirt and tug as suggested. There’s a smooth shift in the boy’s body hovering over you. The soft sounds of his clothes rustling give you an indication of how close he must be.

To put it in perspective, you decide it’s a good idea to paint a picture of the scene in your head. A gorgeous boy is performing a lap dance on top of you as you sit blindfolded on the bed. His hands are pressed into the mattress on either side of you, his hips roll in a fluid motion, and his body grinds against an invisible wall that separates his crotch from yours. The mere thought of being under him is making it difficult for you to sit still.

You tug again and recline your back for Jimin to follow. The seams of his jeans drag gently along your outer thighs. His hot breaths tickle the exposed skin down your neck. “Do you want to feel me like this?” No, you want more.

Your fingers stray away from the boy’s hips, following the paths defined by his toned abdominals. Even through his shirt, you can easily map out the structure of his muscles, so you flesh out the details of the visual in your mind. This is much more engaging and “hands-on” than an anatomy textbook, you nod to yourself. But there seems to be a missed opportunity if the shirt stays on.

“Can you take off your shirt? For scientific purposes only.” You surprise yourself with the bold request, but the blindfold has made you feel some type of way. Shameless.

“Are you sure all of this is purely for science? Because I see you’ve already spread your legs out for me.” You hear a shirt being tossed aside before the mattress suddenly dips with something solid between your thighs. You assume it’s his knee when he nudges it into your crotch. Whatever it is, it’s making your body squirm for more contact.

“Maybe it’s a little more than just, uh, science.” You attempt to maintain a sturdy voice, but it’s hard not to pant when you’re overwhelmed with a heat you’ve never felt before.

“A little?” He questions you as his knee digs further into that spot between your legs. Oddly enough, you’re quite satisfied with the hot sensation created by all that friction, and you hope it doesn’t stop. “I think you’re more than a little wet down there, Kitten.”

“Oh,” you try to say, but it comes out more like a weak moan.

And of course, as soon as you show any sort of evidence of pleasure, Jimin decides to stop moving without saying a word. He stands there silently, probably smirking at how turned on he’s made you. He has to be teasing you, and you have to admit it’s working.

With his knee still wedged at your crotch, you situate yourself more towards his thigh and squeezes your own thighs around him. Your hips start moving on their own by instinct to find any sort of stimulation. It’s starts off as modest rocking back and forth against his body. You try to be subtle about it, as if the boy isn’t aware of your intentions. Surely riding his thigh whilst rubbing your wet lewd scents all over him won’t give it away.

“Oh, that’s your kink?” He sounds rather impressed. Once you finally find a good method and pace fore stimulating yourself on him, however, he pulls his knee back. “Let’s switch places.”

Next thing you know, your ass is sitting on top of Jimin’s lap with your legs wrapped around his waist for support. Without even thinking, your body continues to pleasure itself against boy, grinding and yearning for the wonders of sex.

You’d paint yourself a visual of the scene at hand to make everything more vivid, but you don’t really want to know what you must look like in such a helpless state. In times like this, you’re thankful for the blindfold-

“I wish you could see yourself, blindly humping and panting like a horny little puppy.”

You freeze at Jimin’s vivid narration of scene, regretfully imagining it as told. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

Unsure of whether you want to continue or end the stripper shenanigans once the blindfold comes off, the boy swiftly removes the cloth from your eyes and blinks at you. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the bright lights of your room, but when they’re back to normal, you remain seated in his lap and blink back at the shirtless boy.

For as intimate and steamy as it was a moment ago, neither of you know what to do or say. It’s a comfortable silence, although you do feel a bit embarrassed for showing the horny little puppy side of yourself to your neighbor. Besides that, you’re content. Your body finally relaxes, loosening its hold around the boy’s waist.

When Jimin comes to the conclusion that the stripper shenanigans are over, he lets out a chuckle to break the silence.

“What?” you pout.

“Nothing!” He throws his shirt back on, but not before you catch one last look of his tiddies and blossom tattoo. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get ice cream?”

-

“What were you laughing about earlier?” is the first thing you ask after taking a lick of your ice cream.

“You’re not gonna let that go, huh,” Jimin sighs into his strawberry sundae. “I was just laughing at you. Is that a crime, Officer?”

“But why?” You’d think you were holding an interrogation at your local late-night ice cream parlor. The boy in question rolls his eyes.

“You know how chemistry students always have to wear goggles during labs?”

“Yeah and when they take them off, they have this funny red imprint around their eyes,” you recall your old days in chem class. “Wait, are you trying to say I had funny red marks around my eyes after taking the blindfold off?”

Jimin shrugs.

“And that was funny to you?” You want to be annoyed by his childish humor, but you’re more so relieved that he wasn’t laughing about anything that happened while the blindfold was still on.

“It reminded me of how you always say it’s all for science,” he says, carving out a spoonful of strawberry syrup off the top of his ice cream with such precision. You know what he’s talking about—it’s your infamous excuse for wanting to get closer to the boy.

“Is it a crime for me to indulge in my scientific research, Officer Park?” You lick the ice cream off your lips with a playful tongue.

“Only if you abuse it,” he points at you as if to evoke fear before softening his expression. “But in your case, no.”

“Good.” You swipe a scoop of the boy’s sundae right in front of his face. “I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for your body so I can pass my art class...”

“I know that’s not the case, Y/N. Otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered with the whole blindfolded lap dance thing.” Jimin points to your ice cream cone, so naturally, you let him have a taste of it. “Because what’s the point of a handsome stripper giving you a lap dance if you can’t see what’s going on?”

“To feel things that you wouldn’t otherwise notice if you were too distracted by a naked body dancing over you?” you start munching on the waffle cone. “And by ‘feel things’, I mean emotions, not sexual pleasure. Just FYI.”

“Right, because you totally didn’t feel any sort of sexual pleasure while riding my thigh,” he nods.

“Right,” you nod along with a pretty good poker face. He’s on to you, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing what effect he has on your body. “Thank you, though, for not one, but two special treats.”

“There could’ve been a third if we’d just kept going-”

“Anyway,” you say, pulling out your sketchbook to change the subject. “That lap dance did give me some new art inspo.”

“It was quite the experience for a human-to-human interaction, huh.” Jimin scrapes the last bit of strawberry ice cream, watching as you flip through your sketches of him until you reach the ones from earlier that evening. You have a new color to add to the palette.

“Mhm,” you say, shading in the same color of the boy’s ice cream, the same color that his blossom tattoo represents. “But what do you think about this human-to-human interaction?” You wiggle your index finger back and forth between you and him.

“You mean us chatting over ice cream?” he asks and pauses for a second to think. “I like it. It’s a lot less, uh, intense than some of the other things you and I have done. But I like that.”

“Same. I think regardless of whether you’re a half-naked stripper or just a college kid eating ice cream, the world becomes more vibrant with you in it.” You flip your sketchbook around for Jimin to see.

“You drew me as a Super Saiyan?” He’s referring to his wicked blonde hair and the reddish-pink flare that surrounds his buff body. “Super Saiyans do make the world a better place, huh?”

“My human anatomy could still use some work, but you get the gist.” You don’t know whether to laugh or be offended by his weeb reference. Either way, he has a smug look on his face, as if being drawn as a Dragon Ball character is something to take pride in.

“Somehow the abs look super realistic though…” He strokes his nonexistent beard. “I wonder how that happened.”

You have flashbacks to when your fingers outlined a whole ass map of each individual muscle hiding beneath his shirt. You suppose your mental map translated well onto paper. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

“Let me know if you’re ever in need of another anatomy lesson,” he hums. “For science, right?”

“For science.”

[mobius-prime]

168. Sonic the Hedgehog #100

So you remember what I said last issue about the SA2 issue seeming like it was just thrown in there last minute, with an almost flippant disregard for how it should affect canon? How it seemed like the writers were just eager to get it out of the way so that they could get back to the story they were already in the middle of? This and the next issue support my theory. This is the big 1-0-0 - the comic has finally hit triple digits, and as such you'd expect this issue to be something truly amazing, really special and bombastic in the same way that Endgame was. And yet… all things considered, despite the cover page, it's fairly ordinary. In fact, the next issue is a lot more game-changing, making me think that with the addition of Sonic Adventure 2 into the mix, the team simply pushed their next few planned issues forward one, making the issue that was initially planned as the hundredth issue into the hundred-and-first. It definitely ends up giving this issue and the next very strange vibes, as they try to make this one seem incredibly epic when it just… isn't. But that's no reason to complain, after all - there's still some very important events to cover in this issue, so let's move into it!

Reunion

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Stephanie Vozzo

We're finally getting the chance to see what Eggman's big plan is for the Overlanders. With the help of Snively, he's upgraded his systems (because remember, he's still a robot himself) so that he's capable of roboticizing anyone with a single touch…

Well that's not good… Sally, Rotor, and Tails, meanwhile, have just managed to learn of the location of the Sword of Acorns from Uma when Kodos shows up to attack them. Sally evades his blows and races off, determined to get to the sword before Kodos. At the same time, Nate leaves Knothole, telling Mina that he intends to warn the Overlanders about the deadly radiation that permeates Robotropolis before it kills them, and Sonic, Bunnie, and Antoine catch up to Tails and Rotor in time to hear about Sally going after the sword, and are disturbed to see Uma lying dead nearby, thinking that Kodos killed her. Sonic races off to catch up with Sally before it's too late, as she reaches the fissure in the forest where Uma told her the sword is hidden. However, Kodos is still hot on her tail…

Sonic stands frozen in shock, almost unaware that behind him, Bunnie, Antoine, and Tails have begun to fight with Kodos, ultimately knocking him out. Together the entire group approaches the edge of the cliff, staring down towards the darkness into which Sally has fallen, believing her to be dead from the fall. Sonic quietly states his intention to go down and retrieve her body, but before he can find a way down, a blinding flash of light emits from the crevasse. At the same time, Nate enters Robotropolis and is quickly captured, with Eggman gloating about his plan to now use Nate as bait to lure Sonic in before trapping him inside with his energy dome. But back in the forest…

Well, that's intense.

Sonic and Sally finally find themselves face to face for the first time in nearly two months, and don't know quite what to say to each other. They don't get very far beyond slightly strained greetings before Mina shows up, causing Sally to turn away to hide her feelings as Mina informs Sonic that Nate has gone to Robotropolis. And so, everyone in the group set out to rescue him before anything bad happens to him. Meanwhile, Eggman has Nate brought to him to ask him a question of a scientific nature…

Aw yeah Uncle Chuck! Sonic rushes further into the city while Chuck escorts Nate to a slightly safer location for the time being, and soon the three meet up, with an overjoyed Sonic hugging his uncle tightly. Everyone else, at the same time, has headed to a different part of the city, where they know the roboticized Mobians are all being kept hidden from the Overlanders' eyes.

Both groups meet up, and crowds of terrified Overlanders scatter, believing that they're being invaded by the Mobians. Nate realizes that the energy dome is still keeping everyone trapped, so he splits off secretly from the group to find a way to lower it. The crowd reaches the edge of the dome, realizing they're unable to leave, and a holographic image of Eggman begins to gloat, but then the dome suddenly dissipates, leaving everyone free to escape. But what of Nate? Sonic thinks everything is fine, not yet realizing that he's missing…

Oh… oh no…

Welcome to the Dark Side

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Frank G.

This story for some reason begins with a brief recap of Dimitri's entire life story, including his previous tangles with Knuckles and the loss of his powers to Mammoth Mogul. We then open with Lien-Da rudely retrieving Julie-Su from her cell on board the Dark Legion's battleship. Man, how long has it been since we've even seen Julie-Su? She was captured back in Sonic Super Special #14, so that makes fourteen issues of no Julie-Su, which if you ask me is a cardinal sin. Back on the bridge, Dimitri expresses surprise at Knuckles' appearance, claiming that he figured Knuckles was sealed away into an alternate dimension along with the rest of his island (oh, so that's what the orange energy blast did). Lien-Da then returns with Julie-Su, who is overjoyed to see Knuckles.

Oh… well that is quite an offer, Dimitri. One I wouldn't have expected you to make. Julie-Su is outraged, but Dimitri chides her for it, reminding her that she was once one of them as well. Knuckles, feeling he has no choice for the sake of his own people, agrees, and soon another energy beam fired from the ship's quantum cannon has opened a tear in between dimensions, bringing the Floating Island back. But along with the Floating Island comes a couple of characters we haven't seen in quite some time… namely, Tobor and Kragok! If you'll recall, time in the Twilight Zone moves much more slowly than in this dimension, and so they appear to be still locked in their fight from when they fell into the other zone in the first place. Tobor is initially overjoyed to be back, hoping he can finally enjoy his life with his family, but is then horrified to find that his benefactors are none other than the Dark Legion. Kragok tackles him midair, and Tobor, making up his mind, decides that if he has to die to defeat the Legion, then so be it. He grabs a now-terrified Kragok, and directs their fall… straight into the quantum cannon.

This is quite bittersweet. No one really wanted poor Tobor to die, especially not after the hard life he had, but after hundreds of years, he's finally reunited with his father for good. As they walk off into the afterlife together, Knuckles, now resigned to the fact that he's a Dark Legionnaire, asks Dimitri if there are other ways for him to save his family and friends from danger. Dimitri gives some stock villain response about how his people have followed a "different path" from that of Knuckles' family line, and when Knuckles tentatively agrees that maybe he should try something new, Dimitri welcomes him to "the dark side," which is definitely not something that someone evil would ever say! Yeah, Dimitri seems trustworthy for sure! Go Knuckles!

[uas-fics]

Title: Lego Butterflies

Summary: Tweek is so excited to join a lego house contest with his friends Jimmy and Timmy. Nothing could ruin his day! Except maybe Nathan and his schemes of revenge against Jimmy!

Rating: G

Ships: Mentioned Creek. 

Other: For @tweekweek, day 2 Talent. I have no idea if this Red Cross idea would even work but you know what, it's just a setting and conflict set up sooo..... *shrug* 

Also, disclaimer, I didn't have time to do as much research as ASL as I should have, so the wording of Timmy's dialog isn't perfect, and I apologize. :( 

Read on Ao3

---

Tweek bounced in his seat, a goofy smile on his face. The weekend didn’t come fast enough. Since Wednesday, Tweek hopped into bed early in an attempt to force time to move its butt along so Saturday’s event could finally happen. 

Jimmy sat to his left and Timmy to his right. They shared his excitement. 

Jimmy was the one who brought Tweek the flyer, shoving it under his nose during recess. 

"The South Park Red Cross's first annual building contest: An event for children thirteen and under to show off their building skills and have fun!" The flyer proclaimed in Comic Sans font. "Come by and bring your kids for a lego brick contest with plenty of wonderful prizes for the best entries. Lunch and dinner will be provided. starts at 10 am ends at 6 pm. 5 dollar entry fee with be required in advance. For more information call the South Park Red Cross office or email us at SPRedCross@zmail. net." 

Jimmy explained that it was a creative competition where a group of up to three kids are given a lego kit and had the day to make the building, but with their own creative twist on it. The first prize winners received gift cards to the local Dairy Queen. 

Tweek didn't care about the prize. He was just excited to build with his friends and have fun. He didn't even expect to win, but Jimmy proclaimed he knew they would since Tweek was so amazing at building with legos.

"You have one of your builds on display at the library!" Jimmy reminded. "The one that looks like a b-b-bo-boat? You're a natural. We'll win for sure."

His parents donated his boat to the library without his permission last summer. Though Tweek had planned to recycle the bricks into another project, he couldn’t help but feel pride every time he saw his name on that piece of card stock in the shiny display case.

Tweek looked around the Red Cross building at the other tables. He knew some of the other kids here, but most were younger than him and he couldn't put a name to a face. He knew two of the kindergarteners in the corner. Kyle Broflovski's little brother and the youngest member of the goth kids looked less than thrilled to be there as their parents chatted a few feet away. 

Kenny and his little sister and older brother on the other side of the room, Karen speaking animatedly and Kenny nodding along while their brother had a chair pulled to the wall and dozed. 

Some girls from his class chatted near the door. A few kids from the special education class that Tweek didn't know waved to Jimmy as they walked in.

"Oh my Gosh!" Jimmy beamed. "There sure is a really big crowd out tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, this might be a fun competition," Tweek agreed. 

"Of course, it will be." Jimmy leaned over and picked up his bag from beside him. He unzipped it before taking out some peanut butter crackers and juice boxes. "My mom packed me these, but we're being fed lunch, so I thought we could have them as a pre-build s-s-snack."

Timmy nodded, reaching in front of Tweek for a pack of crackers. His fingers wrapped around a juice box, only for his nose to wrinkle up in disgust when he read the flavor. He tossed the juice box back before snatching up a different one.

Jimmy cocked his head to the side to read the flavor. He stuck his tongue out.

"I a-agree with you there, Tim Tim." Jimmy faked a gag. "Kiwi-Orange is the w-worst flavor. I keep asking mom not to buy this kind, but she a-al-always forgets."

Tweek's mom buys the same brand, and he knew its store-brand juice and the cheapest available at the local market, but he didn’t point that out. Instead, he took the Kiwi-Orange for himself, leaving Jimmy with Peach. 

Of the Tropical Explosion flavors, Kiwi-Orange tasted best to him. It was tangy with just the right amount of kiwi. He didn't understand how anyone couldn't love it.

"Well, well, well," A snide voice intoned, "look what the cat dragged in."

Nathan marched up to their table with Mimsy right behind him like a giant shadow. Nathan set his palms on the tabletop and leaned forward a little too far into their space.

"Oh! Hello there, Nathan!" Jimmy chirped, completely unfazed by how close Nathan's tinted aviator glasses were to his face. "You too, M-Mimsy. Good morning!"

"Heya, fellas," Mimsy replied with a wave.

"So, what brings you two here? Jimmy? Timmy? Are you here for the contest?" Nathan nodded to the front of the room where the adults from the Red Cross were pulling out craft supplies from some boxes. 

"We s-s-sure are." Jimmy wrapped his arm around Tweek. "Tim Tim, me, and Tweek here are all one group. Isn't that gr-great? Too bad we can't have a group of five, though. You and Mimsy would make great additions to our t-t-team."

Nathan scrunched up his nose like he just stepped on a wet turd with bare feet.

"Oh," he gave Tweek a hard look over the top of his glasses, "really?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Tweek watched Timmy grip his crackers so hard, they crumbled in the wrapper. He glared at Nathan as if daring him to say something.

If Nathan saw, he didn't respond. Instead, he shrugged and stepped away.

"Good luck, there, Jimmy, Timmy...Tweek."

Tweek shuddered at how Nathan said his name. It reminded him a little too much of a cartoon super-villain with a long mustache about to capture the hero with a complicated contraption.

Timmy must not have like how his name was said either since he flipped Nathan off behind his back. Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed unphased completely.

"Good luck to you, too! I know we'll all do f-f-f-fantastic!" Jimmy encouraged. Nathan scowled as he turned around and went to another table.

Mimsy almost followed him, when he paused, taking a look at the box of juice in Tweek's hand.

"Is that Kiwi-Orange? Oh, boy, it's my favorite flavor. Do they have some here?" Mimsy grinned.

"Really?" Timmy signed, sticking out his tongue.

Tweek smiled back at him. "It's my favorite, too. It's yummy."

Jimmy looked into his bag. "Ah, darn, sorry, Mimsy. Mom only packed enough for my team. Maybe I can bring you some at school on Monday."

Mimsy's face fell. For someone with a large and imposing a frame as Mimsy, when he got disappointed, he looked no more threatening than an upset puppy.

Tweek offered his unopened box. "Here, you can have mine. I brought my own drink." With his free hand, he lifted his ever-present thermos from between his feet, still warm with the mid-morning’s coffee. 

Mimsy's eyes grew wide. His mouth went slack as he took the juice. "Really? You'd give me the best flavor? Just like that? No fight or nothin'?" Mimsy stared down at the juice box as if Tweek just handed him the Hope Diamond to keep.

"Uh-huh. I'm ok with it, if you don't mind, Jimmy." He turned a questioning look to him.

Jimmy shook his head. "No, it's fine. Our teachers always tell us sharing makes for the b-best friendships."

"Good, there you go, Mimsy. Good luck. I hope you have lots of fun today." Tweek smiled again.

 He didn't know Mimsy well, other than he hung around with Nathan all the time, but he didn't have anything against him. Mimsy seemed like a nice kid. He didn’t give bad vibes, unlike Nathan.

Mimsy looked at the box, then at Tweek, and blushed. "Golly, that's swell of you. Thanks a lot, Tweek." He giggled as if Tweek just told him a silly riddle before making a beeline for Nathan.

After the three finished their juice--or coffee in Tweek's case--and crackers, Jimmy gathered up the trash and took it to the trash can before heading to use the restroom.

Once Jimmy was out of earshot, Tweek turned to Timmy with a frown.

"Are you alright? You seem...uh..." he gestured to the crumbs covering Timmy's shirt, "upset? Is this about Nathan?"

Timmy brushed the crumbs off with his face set in a scowl. He looked around before leaning in close. 

"Do not trust Nathan," he whispered, keeping his hand movement small and close to his body.

"Why?" Tweek covered his mouth with the side of his hand. Nathan and Mimsy sat across the room, so they couldn't hear him but better safe than sorry.

"He is a dickhead." Timmy cringed. "Jimmy is too stupid to understand Nathan hates him."

"He hates him? Jimmy sure seems to think they’re friends." Tweek frowned. 

"He is clueless!" Timmy rolled his eyes. "Nathan hates him. He tries to trick him all the time or get him in trouble."

At Tweek's raised eyebrow, Timmy went on to explain some of his experiences with Nathan that ranged from switching out Jimmy's pencils with colored ones for tests and tripping in him in the lunch line to dumping soda in his backpack and spreading rumors.

When Timmy started to explain something that happened during summer camp, he started moving his hands so fast in his anger that Tweek couldn't understand him. 

"Alright, alright, I get it! Nathan is a huge dick." Tweek grabbed Timmy's wrists when he was in the middle of signing what Tweek thought was 'Space-Racist.'

Timmy pulled his hands to his lap. "Be careful today," he warned, leaning over to shoot Nathan a glare. 

Tweek peeked over his shoulder. Nathan had his head turned, so he didn't see Timmy's glower. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Jimmy, who was speaking with some girls at a nearby table. His hands balled into shaking fists.

Tweek snapped his head forward. His stomach twisted into knots. Timmy was right. They had to be super careful today.

---

Jimmy, that asshole, flirting with those girls right in front of him! He was just doing it to rub it in his face that, for some reason completely unknown to Nathan, the girls seemed to like him. 

He didn't understand what anyone saw in Jimmy. Nathan was much more handsome and charismatic than Jimmy could ever be!

But the girls tittered and fawned over him like he was the best thing since sliced bread! 

Nathan gripped his hands into fists. 

"Mimsy, we're going to win those gift cards," He growled. "Even if I have to smash their entry myself."

Mimsy looked up from the empty juice box in his hands. He had been staring at it like a dolt since he finished sucking it dry. What was the big deal? It was just a juice box. It wasn't even a good flavor. Only some weirdo like Mimsy would like Kiwi-Orange.

"Ah, I dunno, Boss," Mimsy fingered the box, "maybe we should just try our best to win on our own. We don't gotta cheat."

"Don't you see, Mimsy? Jimmy is cheating! Us cheating would even the odds." Nathan waved his hand towards them. "He brought that Tweek kid with them to help."

"What's wrong with Tweek?" Mimsy's voice pitched up when he said Tweek's name. A small blush grew across his cheeks, eyes drifting down to the juice box.

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's an expert with legos, Mimsy! He has something he made shown off at the library! How is that fair to the rest of us?"

Mimsy craned his head around the room a moment. "Well, why don't we ask Colette." He pointed towards her. "She has a lego project displayed at the library too, and it looks like she's all by herself. We can ask her to join us!"

Nathan winced. "Hell no. She's ugly. I don't want an ugly girl on my team." He was trying to win the gift cards so he could get pretty girls. Girls love free chocolate-dipped cones. He would have a whole bunch of girls clambering for his attention when he won those gift cards. Then Jimmy would cry like a baby now that the girls saw who the real man around was.

Mimsy cocked his head to the side. "Well, Boss, maybe you should put your misogyny and bias against women aside this one time and work towards your goal so we can win honestly and you can take real pride in your win."

Nathan stared dumbfounded at Mimsy. Where did Mimsy get these ideas? Probably some dumb cartoon or something.

"Mimsy, shut up."

Mimsy turned his attention back to his juice box with a shrug. "Ok, boss."

---

The rules for the competition where simple: build the lego house from a kit and decorate it with the supplies from the craft table.

The house kit was a simple model, only twenty bricks high with four window pieces and a door piece and a premade slanted roof.

Even if Tweek hadn’t built it before, it was an easy task. He took up the job of putting it together while Jimmy and Timmy gathered supplies and refined the plan.

They had decided to turn their project into a gingerbread house with lollipop trees and candy stuck to the roof. They would use paint to add icing accents and cotton balls as cotton candy lining the outside like bushes.

As Timmy wrapped cellophane plastic around foam balls to make hard candy and Jimmy used a marker to color the cotton, Tweek stood to stretch.

"I'm going to the restroom. Be right back." 

Timmy grabbed his sleeve, holding up a sheet of cellophane. 

"Get blue," He told him before lowering his head back to his work. 

Once Tweek finished his business, he stood over the craft table shifting through the mess of stickers and papers for a blue sheet of cellophane. Most of the stickers had a faint yellow tinge to them and several of the sets of markers were missing colors. If Tweek had to guess, he would say a lot of the supplies were donated from a granny’s leftover scrapbooking supplies. 

Tweek glanced over his shoulder at a nearby team’s house kit box. Given how yellowed it was, maybe more than just the stickers came from someone’s backroom.

He set some brown felt aside before a flash of shiny, translucent blue caught his eye. 

With a noise of satisfaction, he reached for it, only for another hand to grab it at the same time.

Tweek looked up and met eyes with Nathan himself.

"I saw it first," Nathan snapped, snatching the cellophane.

"We need it for ours," Tweek countered. 

All of Timmy's stories played through his head. He needed to be very careful with what he said. Jimmy might be optimistically oblivious enough to overlook Nathan's malice acts, but Tweek sure as heck wasn't.

Nathan attempted to reply, but Mimsy stepped behind him and cut him off.

"Heya, Tweek!" He swung his hands side to side. "Gosh, isn't this fun? We's nearly finished half our house. It's going to be a summer house with a pool and palm trees and--"

Nathan shoved a sheet of craft felt into his mouth.

"Shut up, Mimsy! Don't tell our enemies the plan." He glared over the top of his glasses at Tweek. "He might steal our ideas."

"We don't need your ideas." Tweek reached across the table for the corner of the felt in Mimsy's mouth. He pulled it out then pushed it into Nathan's hands, making sure that the part covered in spit touched his skin.

Nathan dropped everything in his arms back on the table with a yelp. As he wiped his hand on his pants, Tweek snatched the blue cellophane. Before Nathan could make a bigger scene, Tweek took a pair of craft scissors and made a wavy line down the middle of the sheet.

"Here. Problem solved," Tweek set half on the slobbery felt. 

A snarl ripped from Nathan’s throat as his upper lip rose. Tweek froze like a rabbit staring down a pet dog. 

Oh, shoot! He had let himself get overconfident! Nathan was going to kill him, right there in the Red Cross building, in front of everyone! 

Mimsy put his big hands on Nathan's shoulders and turned him.

"That'll be enough blue, dontcha think, boss? I think so. We just needed a little. Ain't it real diplomatic to share like that?" Mimsy jabbered on as he forced Nathan towards their table.

Tweek's body relaxed. Mimsy glanced over his shoulder at him.

"Thank you," he mouthed at him. Mimsy turned forward instantly, the tips of his ears burning pink.

---

Nathan crumbled the blue cellophane and threw it on the table. He was upset, but Mimsy didn't know why. They got more than enough for their pool.

Maybe if his head wasn't so light and spinny, he could figure it out, but right now he felt as though his feet weren't even touching the ground. 

Tweek was so nice. He gave him his juice box. He shared the cellophane. He even said thank you for taking Nathan away to cool off. 

Tweek was wonderful.

"--msy?" 

Mimsy blinked. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah, what were ya sayin', Boss?"

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses. 

"I said we have to get those punk-ass jerks Jimmy, Timmy, and Tweek. We can't let them win!" Nathan picked up a pair of scissors and cut the crinkled cellophane to shape.

Mimsy twiddled his thumbs, taking a seat. "Do we have to? I don't think Tweek deserves us destroying his hard work."

Nathan paused and looked up. He fixed Mimsy with a look before he scowled.

"Mimsy, what do you care about that blond twitchy kid?" Nathan asked in a slow, careful tone.

Mimsy picked up a button he had painted to look like a life-ring and twisted it between his fingers. "Oh, well, ah...Tweek just..." He felt a silly smile grow on his face and couldn't make himself look up at his best friend as he continued, "He gives me butterflies, ya know, boss? In my tummy, and I just don't wanna cause him no trouble."

He didn't really want to cause Jimmy or Timmy trouble either, but Nathan had his heart set on being better than them, so Mimsy tagged along and helped him out however he could.

"Oh, for the love of..." Nathan dragged his hands down his face. "You know Tweek has a boyfriend, don't you? Shit those butterflies out already. You don't have a chance."

"I don't wanna chance." Mimsy picked up a lego brick and attached it to another brick. "Just knowing Tweek’s happy makes me happy. I wanna be his friend." 

Be his friend, sit together at lunch, even, hold his hand at recess a little, that's all Mimsy wanted. He just really, really wanted that wonderful person to like him and he didn't think ruining his project would make that dream come true.

"Mimsy, you have the brain of a chicken." Nathan shook his head.

"Ah, geez, thanks, boss." Mimsy smiled at him. Chickens are really smart. Their class watched a show on them once. Chickens can count and do basic math! Nathan was such a swell guy for using inside information to compliment him.

Nathan opened his mouth then shut it with a groan. "Just finish building the house and stop pining over Tweek. I'll come up with a plan in the meantime."

Though his stomach twisted with worry, Mimsy nodded. Nathan wouldn't steer him wrong, would he?

---

Lunch was sandwiches, a snack pack of chips, an apple or orange, and a drink. The adults ushered everyone out to another room to eat, so Tweek's group stood with Kenny and his siblings as they ate.

In the ten minutes since Karen started talking to Tweek, he was pretty sure he counted her take a breathless than fifteen times.

"Since it's a kitten's house," Karen explained, "it'll have a pen outside for mice she can eat anytime she wants and--"

"Karen," Kenny cut in, "looks like they're letting people have seconds. Go get some. Get me another too."

Karen looked at her half-eaten sandwich then back up. Kenny shooed her with his fingers and a nod. 

"Mom let us come for the free food, sis," Kenny reminded her, taking a big bite of his sandwich. "We'll put the extras in Kevin's bag."

"But, I was telling Tweek about our project." Karen sighed, but pushed her chair out anyway and headed back towards the serving table.

Jimmy laughed, slapping Tweek's shoulder. "Wow, I thought she would t-talk your ear off."

Tweek blew a breath out. "Thanks, dude.” He told Kenny. “She's really excited, huh?"

He raised a shoulder in a half shrug. "It gets her out of the house to play with glitter glue and stickers. Of course, she's excited. I don't think we'll win, but she's having fun, so it's ok by me if we lose."

From across the table, Kevin snorted. "We'd better win. Girls love being treated to a dipped cone," he muttered, more to himself than the conversation between the fourth graders. 

Kenny rolled his eyes as Karen came trotting back up. Chips and fruit ladened down her arms. Several sets of eyes from the nearby tables turned towards theirs when she dropped everything down with the thump of hard apples and oranges and the crinkles of plastic chip bags.

Karen beamed proudly at her plunder. "That nice old lady gave it to me when I told her my last name." She waved towards an elderly woman sitting behind the table. See Karen acknowledge her, the woman waved back before returning to her conversation.

Kenny's cheeks blushed red. He averted his eyes and pulled his hood strings a little. Even Kevin slumped down a little farther in his chair.

As is his nature, Jimmy quickly changed the subject before the heavy silence grew too awkward. 

"So, w-what else is everyone doing for their e-en-entries? Do you know? Colette is sitting next to us and is making a fairy castle. It's r-r-r-really neat!" Jimmy waved his hands out, drawing the attention to himself and shielding the McCormicks while Kevin unzipped his backpack.

"Yeah, um, oh!" Tweek moved his arms out as well, though not as wide. "Mimsy told me he and Nathan were making a summer house. Isn't that cool? Errr--It has a pool even."

"A pool?!" Karen gasped. She grabbed Kenny's arm and shook him. "Can ours have a pool? I know cats hate water, but I don't think this kitten would. It can be a special cat pool!"

"Huh? Yeah, sure, we can put fish stickers inside," Kenny replied without looking up from his and Kevin's work.

"I want the pool to have pink water," Karen continued, wrapping her arm around his. "It's fancy rose water. We have some extra paper flowers we can put around it, and we can even make an innertube floatie!"

"I bet you can make the best p-pool ever," Jimmy told her, finally lowering his arms to the table. "I think we have some extra pink plastic wrap you can use. If you make a paper c-c-cir-circle you can cover it for your pool."

Karen released Kenny's arm and darted around the table to squeeze in between Tweek and Jimmy, bombarding Jimmy with questions for more ideas. Feeling claustrophobic, Tweek slipped out of his seat. The instant he did, Karen plopped down. 

Kenny set a hand on Tweek's arm. "Thanks. I owe you one,” he whispered, his cheeks still tinged with the red of embarrassment. 

Before Tweek could reply, another hand grabbed his arm and pulled. He spun around to see Timmy staring at him with a determined expression. He tugged Tweek away to talk privately in the corner.

"I saw Nathan and Mimsy." He nodded towards the door to the other room. "They snuck back in."

"What?" Tweek squawked. He craned his head around to make sure no one heard him. "What?" He repeated, much quieter. "When? Should we tell an adult?"

Timmy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe? Or..." He flashed a wicked smile, "we catch them."

"You want to sneak in there? How? You're not exactly..." He gestured to Timmy's wheelchair. 

Timmy frowned. "I am sneaky." 

"You are, but, eeer," Tweek chewed his lower lip. "There are too many people. We have to open the door completely to get you inside and..."

"You go!" Timmy rolled closer, pointing at Tweek’s chest. "You go in after Nathan."

"Why me? We should tell an adult." Tweek took a step away, but Timmy rolled his chair in front of him, blocking his path. 

"You go. In ten minutes, I will tell someone." He promised, crossing his heart with his finger.

Timmy had that determined look on his face. It was the same face he had when he argued with Cartman about changing his superhero from Iron Maiden to Doctor Timothy. Unless Tweek wanted to make a powerful enemy of Timmy, he had no choice.

"Alright, fine..." Tweek heaved a sigh. "We still need a distraction though."

Timmy smirked, wheeling himself back. "That is my job."

Before Tweek could stop him, he spun his chair around and surged it forward. In the middle of the room, he slammed the brakes to a stop and fell out onto the ground. He threw his arm up dramatically with an anguished cry that reminded Tweek a little too much of a soap opera character.

It took seconds for all the adults to gather upon Timmy.

 Tweek seized his moment and dashed towards the door. He slipped in and turned his eyes to a horrendous scene.

Drops of red, yellow, and blue paint rolled down half-finished walls and stained cuts of cardboard paper. Stickers had been ripped from the lego bricks on some and whole parts of the buildings taken away on others. Swear words were written along roofs in white glue. Glitter covered every surface.

And the end of the line of crafting carnage stood none other than Nathan himself, gluing marker caps to lego bricks with glitter glue.

"Hand me the buttons," Nathan held out his hand behind him without looking up. "We're going to put a big penis on this house. We'll use those stupid colored bushes as hair on the--"

"STOP!" Tweek shouted, rushing forward. He knew it was too late to save his or any of the other projects, but he had to try to save what was left!

With a rush of adrenaline, he dove at Nathan. Marker caps and buttons clattered across laminate as Nathan gasped and struggled under Tweek. 

Nathan smacked Tweek across the face with the back of his hand, but Tweek was able to pin one of Nathan's hands down by the wrist.

With a sneer, Nathan aimed the bottle of glue in his free hand at Tweek's face and squeezed. A line of liquid glue hit him right above the right eye.

Tweek recoiled back, desperately trying to wipe the glue away with his sleeve. Nathan shoved him off. He rolled back, knocking into another table. 

The folding table's leg gave way, dumping all the projects on it. Legos, stickers, paper, paintbrushes and shallow dishes of water all dropped to the floor. One of the houses hit Tweek on the top of the head. Stars swam across his vision.

"NO!" Nathan screamed. "My project!" 

Tweek looked to his side and saw the remains of a lego house with a styrofoam sun glued to the top. The house crushed a paper water bowl with blue cellophane inside and several palm trees made of construction paper.

"Why you!" Nathan snarled. "Mimsy, grab him! I'm going to put a bottle of glitter glue down his throat!"

Tweek tried to scramble to his feet, only to slip on the loose pieces. Mimsy loomed over him.

 There was no way out now. He was blocked by Nathan to his left, the other table to his front, the fallen table to his back and Mimsy to his right.

Tweek didn't think he would die today, but here he was about to meet the reaper.

 All in all, he had a good day up until all this started with Nathan. He and his friends had lots of fun building the lego house and adding the decorations. 

Too bad he couldn't say goodbye to everyone. Where were his parents supposed to find a new busboy on such short notice? Craig would be annoyed, too. They had a date planned for next week. 

Accepting his demise, Tweek clenched his eyes shut and waited...and waited...and waited, but nothing came. 

He opened his eyes to see Mimsy staring at him, face red and conflicted.

"Mimsy! Do as I say!" Nathan ordered.

"But, Boss! The butterflies," He whimpered as he grabbed at his shirt. "Can't we just go? Please?"

Nathan let out a cry of frustration. He set one foot on either side of Tweek before grabbing his chin. He held the glue up threateningly.

"If you're going to be useless, I'll do it myself," Nathan muttered.  

He squeezed Tweek's cheeks into a fish pucker, forcing them apart. Tweek gritted his teeth. 

A pair of hands fell on Nathan's shoulders. He blinked and looked up just in time for him to be thrown back into the opposite table. That one fell backwards with a crash, destroying all the defiled projects atop it.

Mimsy's lip quivered. "I asked ya to stop, Boss. I even said ‘please’..." 

As Mimsy wiped away tears on his arm, the door opened. 

"What is going on in here — Oh my Gosh!" One of the adults gaped at the scene. 

Nathan scrambled to his feet, jabbing a finger at Tweek. 

"He tried to come and break everyone's projects," He accused. "We came here to stop him from ruining everyone's fun. Tweek is a big cheater!"

"That's not--argh! That's not what happened!" Tweek countered though he didn't try to stand. His head hurt too much. Hopefully, his mom remembered to put the ice pack back in the freezer since Tweek smashed his elbow at the shop. Tweek was going to need it for the lump growing on the top of his head.

Slowly, adults and kids trickled in, looking on the destruction. Some of the younger kids started crying. A few of the adults already had phones out, preparing to call parents.

"Yes, it is, ma'am," Nathan said in his most sympathetic voice. "Tweek came in and was doing awfully naughty things to other people's projects. When Mimsy and I came in, he pushed me down.”

"No, he pushed me," Tweek snapped. "Please, Timmy! Timmy saw these two come in here, didn't you? Tell them!"

The adults turned to Timmy, who nodded once, glaring at Nathan. 

"See!" Tweek gestured. 

The adults still didn't look convinced. One walked right past Tweek to Nathan, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you hurt, sweetie?" She asked.

"A little bit, ma'am," he whimpered. “I have a scrape on my elbow. I might need stitches.”

"I'm telling the truth!" Tweek tried to stand, but the world spun too much for him to stay up.

Mimsy chewed his lip. His hands rubbed his stomach before he took a long, slow breath.

"Missum?" Mimsy tugged on the back of her shirt. "Nathan's lying. You see, we was gonna come in and ruin half of everyone's projects, so no one could tell we really were trying to ruin Tweek's teams, but Tweek came in, and Nathan pushed him and tried to put glue in his mouth. I’m the one who pushed Nathan."

Nathan growled. "Mimsy, you fucking traitor," He snapped. "See if I let you sit next to me at lunch now."

"Young man!" the adult gasped. "What did you just say?"

Nathan winced as he realized his mistake. She grabbed his shoulders and marched him towards the door. Mimsy twiddled his thumbs, uncertainly, before the adult yelled at him to follow her as well.

"Mimsy?" Tweek called. "That was really cool and brave of you. Thanks a lot."

Never before had Tweek seen a face light up as fast as Mimsy’s did at that moment. He giggled to himself before following after Nathan, almost skipping the whole way there.

---

Tweek slumped down against the table. His head still hurt, but at least the room stayed still when he moved. Timmy patted his shoulder as Jimmy sat down across from them.

"Nathan's parents just came to drove him and M-M-M-Mimsy home. They're in big trouble for this. They have to p-pay for the house kits they broke and aren't allowed at any R-R-Red Cross events for a whole six months." Jimmy cocked his head to the side. "I just don't get it. Why would Nathan do something so mean and nasty?"

Timmy slapped his palm to his forehead and dragged his hand down his face. 

"He is a dick bag," Timmy reminded him. "Remember camp?"

"Those were all just unfortunate accidents," Jimmy countered. Timmy rolled his eyes and let the topic drop. 

"And, anyway, Tweek. How are you f-feeling?"

Tweek shook held his head. "I'll be ok. I'm just glad I'm not in trouble, too. It's too bad we couldn't win the prize, though. Did you hear what happened to the gift cards?"

Jimmy nodded. "Yeah, they decided to judge the ones left standing and pick a winner from those, but open the contest again in a month for everyone else who got their projects wrecked."

"Who won?" Timmy asked.

A smile spread on Jimmy's face. "Kenny and his brother and s-s-sis-sister," he explained. "I saw their finished Kitten Dream House, and it was c-cool and creative! Better than our silly g-g-gingerbread idea by a long shot."

"Will you join us for the next contest?" Timmy wanted to know from Tweek.

Tweek winced. "No, thank you. I'll play by myself at home where no one is going to try to make me eat glue."

"Ah, that's a s-stinky spirit to have," Jimmy chided.

After all that had happened today, Tweek didn't care one bit how his spirit smelled. 

If even a fraction of what Timmy said was true, then he had to be very careful until Nathan's anger cooled--or turned back towards Jimmy. Who knows how long that will take!

But if Nathan was upset with Tweek, he was positively pissed at Mimsy for betraying him. 

Tweek pursed his lips then nodded to himself. 

Monday at school he would ask Mimsy if he wanted to join his table for lunch. It was the least he could do. Besides, as far as Tweek was concerned, Mimsy deserved a much better friend than Nathan, and he was willing to step up and be that friend.

---

AN: Shout out to my friend @najti-nightmare for help with the fic and title!

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Be Mine [Yoongi x Reader]

Credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened // m.list

Genre: Fluff // Cute 

Summary: It was everything you had ever dreamed of - getting married to Min Yoongi. 

Word Count:  2690

A/N: Let me know what y’all think. Do you want a second part? I’ve been in the wedding mood lately, so I figured this would be cute. 

»»————-　★　————-««

 There it stood in its full beauty. It hung on a hanger, pressed against the mirror. The veil resting besides it as the sun’s rays casted upon it. You sat there; your hands folded in your lap with your legs crossed at the knee. You noticed that because of the small jewels, the sun made the dress sparkle. The pink undertone was light as the dress itself wasn’t pure white. Nor was it strapless because it hung from two beautiful laced straps. 

Surrounding the full and base of the skirt was beautiful lace designs. You remember standing in the stop looking at it. How it’s beauty completely captivated you. Once the dress was on, the tears fell. Little did you realize that your life was changing right before you eye. 

It was a hard pill to swallow. Knowing that you were changing from just an independent woman to still one but with your fiancé at your side. You had gotten used to his company over the five years you had been dating. How warm and soft he was, bunt and his sarcastic humor. He seemed to be enjoying what he was doing, because he spoke so passionately about it. The time you’ve spent together was like a dream that was now becoming your reality. 

Slowly, your body ascended from your chair. You delicately moved yourself towards such beauty. It was almost as if you were sneaking up on a peaceful bear. You didn’t want to make a sound, because if you had, it would rip you away from your entrancement. Just as you were about to reach out and touch it, the doorbell rang. 

Your heart skipped against your rib cage, your mind swirling with questions. Almost robotically, you move around. Calling out to whomever was waiting. When you opened it, there your mother and bridal group stood. Your mother was dressed in a navy blue, her eyes bright and teary. She reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing her thumb against your skin. 

“Today’s the day,” she spoke her eyes blinking the tears away. You gave her a small smile, reaching up to grasp her wrist, then press your cheek against her palm. She takes in a heavy sigh, then proceeds to step around you. Blythe, your maid of honor, claps her hands. 

It was her way of getting everyone’s attention so they could move. It seemed as if she had her entire collection of makeup and tools with her. The reason being her big bright bag was filled to the brim. The other girls, Athena, Harlow, Layla, Jazz, and Harper moved inwards. They all seemed to be wearing their bridal gowns. 

A sweet heart neckline with a short front and long back. The color was a simple light pink, matching up with the pink undertones of your dress. The waist had a beautiful rose jewel in the center that was met with the laced back. Their dresses were strapless but could be held up by the shoulders with a clear strap. Their heels clicked against the wooden floor, sending the once quiet room into one filled with laughter. 

The bridal party seemed to finish getting ready with you. Doing their own hair and makeup as well as making sure to give you as enough support as they possibly could. These girls were your best friends, most of whom you met in college. They were your support system when you studied abroad in Germany and continued to be so when you moved out. 

It had been years since you last saw them in person, the sight alone making you want to cry. Yes, you met up with them weeks before, but even now, their company was enough. Blythe pushes you down into your chair again, a small mischievous grin spreading across her lips. 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about Jungkook?” she ponders taking your hair out of the messy bun it once resided in. 

“Because he is younger than you,” you start looking into the mirror to catch her eye. “And I knew if you knew you’d be all over him, because you’re like a lioness.” Blythe had a thing for younger men. It showed in her dating patterns and how often she got in trouble. She often explained that the men her age were out of her league and immature. 

It’s often why she came home with someone who was two years or even three years younger than her. She said they were fun, had more energy, and didn’t complain that often. You believed that most of the guys she hooked up for was just for sex. There were plenty more reasons for not telling her about Jungkook. One of the more recent ones was because he was often shy around the other sex. 

Blythe would literally crush him, and you didn’t want to see that. “So?” She presses grabbing her comb to push away some hair. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try~” her mischievous look turning dark and lustful. 

“Oh, come off its Blythe,” Harper, the eldest, rolls her eyes. Harper was a lot like Namjoon. In the sense that she kept everyone sane. Most importantly, she and Blythe would often get into arguments surrounding her dating patterns. Harper was only looking out for her friend and she wanted to make sure that everything was okay with her. But also, she was the mother of the group and she hated the way Blythe acted so childish. “You shouldn’t be trying to get into bed with Y/N   fiancé’s best friend.” 

“But I do want to ride Jimin though,” Layla whistles out, Blythe joining in. “Maybe even Taehyung. C’mon Harper, at least admit Yoongi does have handsome men for friends.” Layla and Blythe were born in the same year. They often thought alike, hung out the most, and were basically twins. Their relationship reminded you a lot of Taehyung and Jimin. They were extremely playful women and extremely straight forwards. 

Harper went silent as she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she picked up her eyebrow pencil, moving it inwards to start filling in. Layla whistles again, asserting her sense of accomplishment. Everyone wasn’t going to argue with her statement. Just by the group chat the previous night, everyone was drooling over them. 

“I wonder what Jin will wear...” Athena squeaks from the corner. Your eyes shift towards her. She was a delicate one, but very thoughtful. She was the friend everyone went to when they were feeling down. Just like Harper was the mother, Athena was like the best little sister. She was the youngest out of the seven of you. She still was in undergrad as she had changed her major just in the three years. 

Athena wasn’t one to speak out normally. Instead, she observed everyone, making sure they were doing fine. It was her who was the loud and rowdy one at parties when drunk. Just as Hoseok, she was a light weight. Or so you assumed Hoseok was, due to how quickly his vibe changed when he did drink. 

“I’m positive Jin will be wearing whatever Yoongi puts him in darling,” Harlow reassures tapping the excess powder off her brush. She moves in to place the darker shade on Jazz’s lid. Out of everyone, Harlow was the one who majored in something artistic. Most everyone wanted to see what she could do with a brush and some powders. 

The sight was almost mesmerizing how quickly she worked. Jazz was a music major. She wanted to do something with her voice and that’s exactly what she did. Just like Harlow, everyone went to Jazz if they wanted a song written or to analyze something. Jazz and Athena were a lot alike in the terms of they don’t speak up often. 

They were extremely shy once you met them and slowly opened over the years. However, when they were in new environments they often froze and hid behind Layla and Blythe. Just to have their energy was still enough to make you smile. Having your friends around you was the most rewarding thing you could’ve asked for in life. 

Silence stepped in once again due to the door bell ringing. Your mother stood up, leaving her chair alongside your bed. Her heels clicking while she makes her way down the narrow hallway. The girls whispering to each other, Blythe curling another part of your hair. When the door opened, you heard your mother speaking quietly. 

Seconds later, Jungkook pops his head around the corner. He gives everyone a great big smile, his eyes forming crescents. You didn’t have to look at Blythe because you knew she was already giving him a lustful glance. You reached back to smack her leg, receiving a hiss from her. Jungkook held his camera in hand, as it seemed he was taking photos for you. 

“You really don’t have to Jungkook,” you start only to be cut off by Blythe. 

“You’re walking down the aisle with me right Jungkook?” He flushes a little nodding his head while raising the camera. 

“Yeah, it seems like it.” he answers calmly. The reaction alone making Blythe give a devilish smirk. Layla whines next to Athena, her attention drawn back to the mirror. She was walking down the aisle with Hoseok, whilst Harper was walking down with Jimin. She didn’t have a problem either way, but her eyes were set on Jimin. 

Jungkook’s camera snaps away, capturing every laughter, every mistake, and every memory. It wasn’t long until he had to turn around because you were getting into your dress. Jungkook walks out into the hallway, only to be met by Blythe trying to shoot her shot. Your mother and Jazz help you get into your dress. 

The fabric easily sliding over your head, down your back and sitting on your shoulders. Jazz comes around, grabbing the strings to lace up the back. This time, the fabric squeezes against your curves, then sits still. You looked at yourself in the mirror, finding it hard to believe that you, Y/N, was marrying the man of your dreams. 

What topped it all off was your mother. She came behind you, the veil tied to a small flower crown. She pins it on top of your hair, moving some of the loose strands to frame your face. Her eyes were red with tears and her hands shaky. She stands there, a smile spreading across her lips as her palms reach to gently touch your face. 

“You look absolutely stunning my dear,” her voice coming out small. “I am so proud of you and so proud to be your mother.” her emotions swelling as every word touched your heart. “He is and will absolutely adore you.” 

 »»————-　★　————-««

 Yoongi stood at the altar, his hands behind his back. It was your idea to have a Westernized wedding before the more traditional. This way, it would join both parties respected cultures. He couldn’t stand still as the anticipation was growing ever more. The room was filled with bright pinks and whites, the smell of candles and other aromas filling the air. 

His eyes couldn’t stop looking around. It was almost as if his wedding had come out of a storybook. Everything was so beautiful that he knew, he would never forget. His eyes turn when the doors to the church open. His brothers walking in with your friends. Yoongi wore a white tuxedo whilst the rest wore black. He was going for a non-traditional style because of your wedding dress. 

Yoongi hadn’t seen it, but he had heard you describe it. You hadn’t seen his tuxedo, but you had heard him describe it. Both parties move inwards, each smiling in his direction. Yoongi was lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, the ever so monster of anticipation continuing to sink its teeth into his back. As your last friend, Blythe, moves to her spot the waiting really started to stab him. 

The bridal chorus plays, and the wooden doors open again. In that split second it had seemed like Yoongi’s soul left his body. There you stood, the dress fitting your every curve, your makeup bringing out the best parts of your face. Your eyes light and your hair framing you. You held onto your father’s arm as you confidently walked forwards. 

Yoongi saw you with your heels walking around the apartment. He knew how you weren’t comfortable in them, yet in this moment he couldn’t describe you. Every memory flood through his mind, sending his emotions all over the place. It hadn’t occurred to him he was crying until he felt his hot tears against his cheeks. 

He brought a hand up, swiping the tear away, only to be replaced by others. When your father stopped at the end of the pews, Yoongi stood there. Never breaking eye contact as the pastor spoke. When he was ready, his words came out in a choke. He takes a few steps down, thanking your father, then reaching to take you. 

In his grasp, you stood firm. Your hands were shaky because you had never seen Yoongi like this. You wanted to wipe away his tears, reassure him that everything was alright. And yet, just by looking at you he knew. He knew that you were his everything and nothing, God damn it nothing was going to change that. 

The ceremony itself was long, or at least to the couple it was. It seemed as if they just wanted the pastor to say the words and run into pure happiness. Yoongi’s eyes never left yours, and you ever left his. The world surrounding you was gone, and you were just left looking at him. Gazing upon his beauty. When you mentioned to your friends earlier that week, how you got lost in Yoongi’s eyes, you weren’t kidding. 

It was like you were swimming in a pool of chocolate. The warmth captivating your heart and sending chills throughout your veins. How his eyes twinkled under the sunlight and became crescents when he laughed. They were, the most important and your favorite aspect of him. 

The vows were taken quickly as both of you didn’t write anything. Instead, you both knew how you felt inside and didn’t want to share it. Instead, you took the traditional vows. Filling them with love and passion. Yoongi went first, reaching down to take the ring from your cousin. 

He slips the silver metal onto your right hand, bringing it up to place a sweet kiss against. You flushed at the sight, breaking eye contact for the first time as you couldn’t look at him head on. You followed afterwards, taking the ring and slipping it on his right hand. Just like he did previously, Yoongi brought your hand up to place a kiss against your fingers. 

The pastor says a few ending comments, then as it comes out to you, mumbles “You may kiss the bride.” 

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. Instead, he lifts the veil, pushes it back, then dances his fingers against your waist. He pulls you in, capturing your lips in a passion filled kiss. Yoongi arches your back, pressing you against his chest as the world once again leaves you. His lips soft and his hands firm. Yoongi didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to leave that world with him. Sadly, the only thing that brought you back was both Taehyung’s loud ass yelling and Hoseok’s clapping. 

Yoongi breaks apart his expression soft. He brings a hand up to press the back of his fingers against your cheek, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I love you Mrs.Min Y/N,” he whispers his words swelling your heart as the first time today, you cried. 

“I love you too Mr. Min Yoongi,” your fingers tightening around his jacket tugging on him. He realizes that it was time to walk down the aisle to start the party. Leaving you to cling on him as one thought crossed your mind: 

You were finally in paradise with the one you now called husband. 

[bookenders]

11/11/11 Tag Game: Rounds 24, 25, 26, and 27

Tagged by the wonderful @corsairesque, the lovely @azawrites, the stellar @sunlight-and-starskies, and the incomparable @inexorableblob - thanks!

And @inexorableblob, thank you for letting me rewrite the end of The Great Gatsby. It was very cathartic.

Rules: Answer 11 questions, write 11 questions, tag 11 people!

Bilbo Taggins: @aurumni-writes @quilloftheclouds @aslanwrites @starlitesymphony @writingonesdreams @waterfallwritings @cataclysmic-writer @ren-c-leyn @timefirewrites @minusfractions @ink-flavored - and if you like the questions and aren’t tagged, feel free to answer them! And tag me so I can see! 

My Questions:

How many licks would it take for your OCs to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop?

What are your favorite smells?

What’s the book you’ve read most recently? What did you think of it? What impressed you? What would you have done differently?

What are your thoughts on mugs?

If your OCs had a comic book series/graphic novel about them, what would it be called? What would be on the cover? What would the art style be?

Can you draw a bear?

Do you do any other kinds of art? Are you ever influenced by other kinds of art? What about other areas like science or mathematics/other disciplines?

Have you read any craft books or writing advice books? If yes, how have the helped or hindered you? Which would you recommend? If no, would you ever consider reading them?

What are your favorite kinds of narratives? What narrative structures do you prefer to write and what do you prefer to read?

What’s your favorite recipe?

What are some signs that make you consider setting a project aside vs continuing with it?

As always, answers under the cut!

@corsairesque‘s Questions:

1. Do you create playlists for your stories or characters?

I do! 

Here’s a detailed post about how I make them.

This is Mel’s from H2H.

This is Gemma’s from H2H.

This is one for the story I recently posted.

And I have one for each WIP on my WIP page! (Mostly, I’m still working on Fish Food’s.)

I actually have folders in Spotify for my characters and stories. Each one gets a playlist.

2. What is your stance on endings that don’t end with some hope?

Sometimes a story needs to have a certain ending to have an emotionally satisfying conclusion. I don’t think hope is absolutely required for an ending. I’ve ended stories without hope because that’s how the story ends. If I wrote it to conclude with an upturn, it would’ve been disloyal to the narrative. Like life, not everything ends happily, or with a positive outlook.

If you want it from a more technical perspective, there are three sorts of endings: positive, negative, and neutral. They can mix and match, but these are the three base ones. I tend toward neutral or positive-neutral endings. The best story I’ve written so far has a negative-leaning neutral ending because it concludes with a loss that does not promise hope. Positive endings are not necessary for a narrative, or for a conclusion. 

Sometimes you need to write a hopeful ending. Sometimes you need to read a hopeful ending. And sometimes you need to read or write something that ends on a down-note. I know I have. 

So, TL;DR, there is no ending hierarchy. It all depends on the reader and the writer, what they need, and what the story demands.

3. What author would you love to hear feedback from on your WIP?

Of literally anyone? Dead or alive? I mean. I’d love to hear what Flannery O’Connor would have to say about my short stories. I try to do a remix-version of her moments of grace in each of them.

4. What is the genre of your WIP(s)?

I mention these on my WIP page!

Most of my short stories are literary and contemporary fiction. My longer projects tend toward low fantasy.

5. How do you come up with new ideas for your WIP(s)?

I don’t have a method or anything for idea generation. My brain works in the background while I’m doing other things, so I’ll be washing dishes, or brushing my teeth, or writing something else, and an idea goes HI HELLO WHAT ABOUT THIS HUH? and I scramble to write it down.

Most of the time, my story ideas come from cool sentences I think of while observing. That sounds super weird and nerdy, but it’s true! When I’m bored or need to occupy my brain or just sorta feel like creating something spontaneous, I’ll look around and figure out how I’d write about a certain thing in the vicinity. 

Some examples of this from my phone notes:

“Laughter echoing through a cave, bouncing off the walls, the gift of hearing it over and over until it fades like gentle waking”

“Cheeks baked pink from the flush of her modesty”

“The last remnants of home, the dirt hidden beneath their fingernails”

“Headlights flicker between the gaps in the barrier like a slipstream of stars”

Ya know, stuff like that.

Sometimes, if I’m stuck while writing and need a thought, I look at the plot and think up complications for my characters to face. That’s how I figured out how to make Lithium 100% more plot relevant. I thought, okay, so she has this role right now, what can I add to make her stand in the way of X plan while also being an asset to Y? And boom, idea generated and problem solved.

6. What do you use to keep all your writing on? (Scrivener, Google Docs, good old pen and paper…)

I use Scrivener for all my main writing. I have a ton of phone memo notes for ideas on the go. I have a notebook full of random stuff for when I’m blocked and need to hand write something.

I also answered this further down!

7. What gave you initial inspiration for your WIP(s)?

H2H: There was a publisher who had a call for shapeshifter stories, and then I missed the deadline so I decided to try for a zine instead, then I got rejected, so I made it into my own thing.

AOPC: I needed to flesh out a piece of my homebrew DnD world, so I started worldbuilding, then it was my turn to turn in a story to be workshopped in my writing class, so I wrote a thing set in the village about the tribe and it all spiraled out from there.

FF: I had an errant thought about the script that hero and villain stories follow and wrote a thing about what would happen if one of them decided to deviate from it and BOOM the plot hit me like a semi truck.

Almost all of my short stories start with a sentence I think sounds really cool, a tone I want to try to capture (ex. the feeling of standing inside an old cathedral), or the ending moment of a character arc (I tend to work backwards).

8. How long have you been working on your WIP(s)?

I’ve been working with Heart to Heart since November 2018. I started thinking about Fish Food like 3 months ago I think? And I got the idea for All Our Painted Colors 3ish years ago, but it started as a short story that I thought about expanding about 8 months ago.

My writing process starts with a long period of thought percolation before I write anything definitive down.

9. What was the first thing you came up with for your WIP(s)?

H2H: The fact that the main character is an apothecary who uses recipes from historical documents to brew things and lives in a small town, and that their love interest changes shapes in some way.

AOPC: That the tribe is a society based around body paint, art, preserving their personal history, and stories. But mostly paint. 

FF: The hero danging over a pit of hungry piranhas and asking the villain a question that throws off the whole “death threat” vibe.

10. Have you considered Hogwarts houses for your characters? If so, what are they?

Answered this for the H2H cast here.

As for the Fish Food cast:

Iron Will - Hufflepuff

Overseer - Ravenclaw

Nightmare - A Hufflepuff who asked to be in Slytherin and the hat said “yeah okay”

Lithium - Gryffindor

Babylon - Slytherin

Sparkplug - Gryffindor

11. What do you find easiest to write? (Description, dialogue, etc.)

Interiority! Free indirect discourse! Unvoiced character brain thoughts! Which I guess means description? 

Writing dialogue sucks old car tires!

@azawrites‘ Questions:

what’s the best part about your writing style? I like how I build up to emotional punches. It’s like walking up a ramp, but in a literary way. And at the top of the ramp you either get a gut punch of feels or an ice cream cone.

do you write on the computer or on paper? I do most of my writing on my laptop because my hands can’t write fast enough to keep up with my brain. My typing is way faster. If I’m having trouble getting an idea down, or the tone of the writing lends itself to being handwritten (idk how to describe this, but sometimes words just gotta be scribbled, ya know?), I’ll hand write it in pen. I don’t use pencils anymore because I wasn’t allowed to in college and it kinda stuck.

what are your favourite books and why? Oh, no, there are too many. So I’ll just say my top book: The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien because of how it deals with stories and grief and remembering, the fact that it’s a story cycle (which is very cool), and the way he writes - it’s beautiful and sad and messed up and poignant. I love it.

why did you start writing? I’ve answered this before, but there was never really starting point for me. It’s just something I’ve always done. 

why did you continue writing? Because I had too much fun to stop! I also get creatively constipated, I guess is how I would phrase it, and need to have some sort of narrative outlet or my brain gets really mad at me.

where do you usually write? Pretty much anywhere, but most often at my desk. I think I need a taller chair, though...

can you describe your favourite piece (written by you) in one sentence? Let’s get authory with this one: The teacher hands out the tests, multiple choice this time, but when the stapled packet slides across your desk, there’s something odd about it, something that brings the war to life inside your head, a long-forgotten voice that speaks the souls of the soldiers and tells their stories from the annals of history. Or: A multiple choice test about WWII that tells the story of 4 men from Company B from enlistment to the end of their campaign.

what’s one cliche/trope you overuse, but still like anyway? It’s a trope when it comes to my own writing, actually. Person Sits Alone in the Dark and Contemplates. I love it, I abuse the hell out of it, and I will never stop.

what music do you listen to when working on a WIP? Depends. I have a go-to Writing Flow State song, playlists to help me get in the right head space when writing certain characters, and playlists that help guide the tone of a story. I can never listen to movie or video game scores because the association of song and cinematic moment is too strong for me.

have you ever dreamed of a fictional character? Uh, I have the occasional nightmare about Kokopelli? Does that count? 

what’s one thing that makes you automatically dislike a book? Overly pretentious first person POV prose (and I don’t mean purple. I mean a character who - honestly and without a hint of satire - thinks like a writer from the 1920s who just discovered what “paid by the word” means and believes they’re the wisest human being in the universe and everyone who doesn’t agree with them is the basest of idiots - barf). Gratuitous female violence. The use of the word “loins” outside of an animal context. Everything about The Beginners by Rebecca Wolff. 

@inexorableblob‘s Questions:

Which of your characters could you write as twice their current age? Oh, man, I think writing Iron Will in his forties or fifties would be really cool. It’d certainly give the story a new commentary twist.

Which of your characters could you write as half their current age? (I’m not gonna cheat and say Mel, I promise.) I think writing a 30yo Treena would be very cool. However, writing a 13 or 14yo Lithium who is just learning how to use her super powers would be WILD. 

What big city would your characters do best in?  London?  New York? Tokyo?  Mexico City?  Rio? The Fish Food characters would all do best in New York or London, since they’re very close to Conover. Lithium would prefer Rio, though, and Babylon would lobby for everyone to move to Tokyo.  The H2H characters would do best in Mexico City or London, depending on who decides to take charge and teach everyone the local customs. 

What would your characters do if they were in a small rural community that was attacked by underground worms? This is giving me too many ideas for H2H. Gemma would be a little bit furious, since she hates having to get rid of animals, especially when they’re invasive. If the worms just minded their own gosh dang business then everyone could live in peace.  If we’re talkin’ normal sized worms, like worm-sized worms, then Gemma would develop a pesticide that wouldn’t kill them, but force them to the surface where they would then be stunned by whatever weird solution Mel comes up with. Then the town would have a Worm-Off, where the person who collects the most worms wins free pie for a year, courtesy of Harry’s.  If we’re talkin’ DnD-style Purple Worms, like Beetlejuice worms, then Mel would take over. She’d help organize an evacuation and steal Oz’s gun, just in case. Then she’d do some spoilery things with Gemma assisting.

What is the worst place where you’ve ever wanted to write? Probably while I was taking the math section of the SATs. Kinda inconvenient, brain, thanks for that. Other terrible places: mid job interview, in the middle of an empty street at midnight, anywhere I’m sitting where I have terrible posture, watching a slam poetry event in a very crowded bar, etc.

What’s the most uncomfortable subject you’ve ever written about? I’ve written a little bit about hate crimes and loathed every second. I’ve written a character actively contemplating suicide (he was a WWII soldier) and that was not fun at all. I mean, I also wrote a paper about sexy (somewhat graphic) wlw poetry for my Sexuality class, which a lot of people would be uncomfortable with, but I thought it was a very good collection. Go read Marilyn Hacker’s stuff, it’s good.

If you had to change the ending of any famous novel, which would you pick? The Great Gatsby. We don’t end with the green light, screw the green light.  Gatsby wills all of his possessions and wealth to Nick and Nick becomes the next James Gatz. But this time around, he pines for the man who was killed in the pool just below his balcony while pretending to love Jordan, who finds out and amicably marries him because 1920s. She then uses Nick/Gatsby’s money to purchase an automobile manufacturing company and makes cars in every color but yellow. (Gotta maintain that color symbolism for F. Scott, I guess.) Nick discovers Gatz’ old bootlegging and illegal activities buddies and starts up a criminal empire. He and Jordan become the biggest, queerest, most spiteful and angsty crime bosses in New York. Nick makes it his life’s mission to take down false accusers, vigilante style. The car manufacturing company is what they use to launder money. Daisy divorces Tom because they’re both terrible people. Daisy takes her daughter and moves to California. Jordan sends Daisy’s daughter money secretly, about a hundred dollars a month. The last line is something about how Gatz was always reaching out and chasing green, but because of him, Nick is steeped in dark, bloody red. I would then write a sequel about Nick and Jordan and their crime empire that spans the East Coast. God, I hate this book.

If you had to change your life, what would you change without regret? Start therapy way earlier, 100%. That would have saved me a lot of nonsense.

If the end of the world where scheduled a week from tomorrow, what would you do?  Would you tell anybody? Everybody?  Keep it a secret? Assuming this was legit and the end of the world was actually happening, I’d probably try to tell some big-shot geologist or something, hoping they spread the word. Other than that, since debt won’t be a thing, I’d take the people I love on a killer trip around the world.

What would you do if a wizard offered to cast one spell for you, but your worst enemy got the same spell? Hmmm. I’d ask them to cast the Self-Realization spell, so they would instantly become aware of the effect their actions have on others and know exactly how terrible they’ve been to other people their whole life. Maybe then they can be a better person. My anxiety makes this spell ineffective on me, since it’s already there! Thanks, brain! 

Which would you choose, never eating in the same place, always eating the same meal, always eating with the same people, or never eating with the same people? I’d choose always eating with the same people. I like frequenting restaurants I like and eating different things. I don’t think I could deal with only eating the same thing/off the same menu forever. And I have bad social anxiety, so constantly eating with new people would probably short-circuit my brain eventually.  A good meal in good company is pretty great, though. 

@sunlight-and-starskies‘ Questions:

What is your favorite genre of music? I’ll always be a rock fan at heart. Right now, I really like folk rock and any kind of music that sounds like it has history behind it.

What are your favorite words? Illustrious, shimmer, soliloquy, incarnate, bound, and many more. Also most Yiddish curses.

Describe your ideal vacation. Somewhere cozy where I can explore and chill at my leisure. A week of artsy events in the city. Exploring landscapes in the country.

If you could have any fictional creature for a pet, what would it be? Why? Pegasus! I can ride and they can fly. We’d make an excellent team, and where we’d go, we wouldn’t need roads.

Which fictional universe would you live in if you had to live there for the rest of your life? Logic dictates the Star Trek universe, since I’d probably be an average civilian. Post-scarcity society? Sign me the hell up. My heart, however, is screaming ROHAN.

Favorite childhood toy? Uh... I honestly can’t remember. 

What is your aesthetic? Good smelling old books with doodles and notes in the margins, a pile of unfolded clean clothes on a chair, a stack of handwritten papers perched on the corner of a desk, the smell of breakfast cooking when you wake up, the immediate “woops” shock the moment you trip over something you should’ve moved earlier.

Tell me a random fact about your current project or you. About me: I have a birthmark that kinda sorta looks like an elephant. About Fish Food: The Coalition knows what happened to Hydrophase. So does Sparkplug.

Are you an early bird or a night owl? Night owl, all the way. I like the idea of being a morning person, though. 

What is your favorite food? Pasta! Or any kind of Asian food. 

What is your happiest memory? Oh, geez. Ummm. When I was little, I would curl up in my grandpa’s armchair and eat Burger King breakfast sandwiches on Saturday mornings. 

[bigskydreaming]

Blech. I’ve pretty much officially finished writing, editing and revising this standalone epic fantasy novel I started years and years ago and only just recently got around to finishing. Which is good, for sure, but also....blech. LOL. Because now I have no more excuses for putting off making a decision about the cover.

Like I always intended to self-pub this particular novel for personal reasons, and I can make my own covers just fine. I’ve done epic fantasy covers before for other clients that turned out well, even working with stock art and photomanipulation, its totally possible to make something that hits all the genre expectations and sells the right tone and feel to readers who come across it. BUT I’ve always loved the illustrated covers of a lot of fantasy novels I grew up with, and always kinda wanted something similar for this particular work, even though I have other fantasy projects I wouldn’t care as much about that one way or the other.

And so years ago when I first started the book and was only about a third of the way in, but still had a solid sense of the world and story and where it was all going, I happened to stumble across a fantasy artist whose work was like...exactly the right tone and aesthetic I’d always been picturing for that novel’s setting and vibe. And he was a freelancer, and open to commissions at the time, and you never know with freelancers if they’ll still be taking commissions a year or two down the line or if they’ve gone to work for like, a video game company or studio or something like that by that point, so even though the book was nowhere near done I hopped on that and commissioned an illustration from him to be used for the cover at some future point when I was ready for it. I just needed the illustration, I was fine doing typography and all that myself when the time came.

And I mean, I’ve literally been on the other side of the author/artist interaction tons of times, lol, so like, I know from my own experiences where its helpful to give an artist or a designer room to breathe and exercise their own creativity, make use of their own particular skillset and interpret the story elements you tell them are most important to see conveyed in the final cover, in like...their own way, like what feels best to them, what they’re most inspired to do with the foundational info you give them to build off of. 

Like I mean, visual design is its own skillset, and often completely separate from the kind of visualization most authors do of their own work while writing it....and with self-pubbed authors especially, as artists or designers you often run into authors who get really hung up on relatively minor details that they feel really need to be on the cover in some capacity and in really specific ways. Which is often to the detriment of the cover in the long run because like....what looks right in your head as a writer, totally familiar with your own world and story and its every minutiae and the implications and context of every single element....is not always going to come across the same way to readers who happen across your cover while browsing. Because they literally have ZERO context for what they’re looking at, and thus it really needs to stand on its own two feet and sell itself, not....loop back around to some hidden significance that will really only resonate with readers who end up buying the book and only once they reach this one scene in chapter 27 or whatever, you know?

So I really didn’t want to do that with this artist. I was only commissioning him because I loved what I’d seen of his work and the style he seemed to default to naturally was the perfect fit for what I wanted, IMO, so I was more than willing to let him take the broader strokes of the setting/themes/storyline in whatever direction inspired him most, as long as he hit within the general framework I provided him.

BUT, that said, for all that I tried to give him as much creative freedom to work with as possible, there are of course always a FEW things that as the commissioning party, are really important to see in the final product, and so yeah, I did have a couple of areas/elements that I did stress were really important to strike the right tone with, or it could make or break the whole illustration.

Specifically, I was concerned that he hit the right feel with the main character. My protag for this novel is a woman, and the one area his portfolio samples didn’t have a ton of variety with and thus had me slightly worried about what visual tropes he might default to...was female characters. He had tons of gorgeous settings, fantasy creatures, architecture, knights and sorcerers and monsters, but not a ton of women in the samples I saw. He did have some, for sure, and like there was nothing super concerning about the way he’d drawn/painted them....there were some priestesses, sorceresses, that kinda thing, and their anatomy and wardrobes weren’t like....glaringly cheesecake-y or anything like a lot of fantasy artists’ portfolios....so I knew he COULD get the character right, the way I hoped he would, I just wasn’t SURE. Like, I wasn’t concerned about specific details, beyond like....not outrageously contradicting the character description and scenes I gave him to work off of, I wasn’t worried about nitpicking minutiae. But my protag is a warrior-magic user archetype, and warrior women is like, the one female archetype he didn’t have any samples of, and I was more concerned about him defaulting to like....the old fantasy standby’s of ridiculously impossible and unnatural poses for warrior women, not to mention totally impractical armor, that sort of thing. 

Not to put too fine a point on it, but this was the ONE thing I stressed, lol. I didn’t really care about the finer details of her armor like in terms of decoration or filigree or even color schemes, I honestly could just adjust my own descriptions in the book to match what he came up with if need be. Stuff like that, so not a big deal to me. ALL I was concerned about was like....she not fall into those trope traps that ensnare so many women on fantasy covers, like....just make her look like she’s a fucking warrior who knows what the hell she’s doing, and I’ll be fine with everything else, you know? I even sent him some covers of published fantasy novels to use as comparison comps, like ‘this is the kind of feel or vibe I’d ideally like to see her capture, something like these women in these covers here’ as well as ‘this is what I really really DON”T want to see, like, I shouldn’t have a better sense of how good a contortionist she is than whether or not I believe she can swing a sword.’

Soooooo.....what happened?

Did he prioritize as I’d really really hoped he would and strongly expressed my desire for him to, and take care to at least avoid the more obvious problems, even if the end result was’t 100% what I was hoping for? Nooooooope. She might as well be mid-yoga pose. Sigh. Like, the guy has a damn near perfect grasp of anatomy and proportions on every other human figure I saw in the many samples I looked through before commissioning him, but somehow, despite this being of utmost importance to me and the ONLY thing about the entire project I stressed about and made sure to emphasize, lol, he ended up painting her in this weird bent at the waist position that throws her lower body proportions off entirely and like, her hip is angled or arched in this weird way that’s incredibly distracting and off, and like also, of course her armor is....pointless, in all the specific ways that happened to be the ONLY details about her armor I was concerned with. Y’know. Like. Its effectiveness. As armor.

And the absolutely obnoxious thing about it all, is that everything else about the illustration? Absolutely gorgeous. Everything I’d hoped for, even as I deliberately tried not to build up too specific an image in my mind ahead of time. Hell, BETTER than anything I’d have come up with on my own, and totally validating my impulse to have someone with different skillsets than my own do this instead of just making a cover out of stock art the way I usually do with my other projects. He absolutely captured the specific MOOD I was aiming for with the setting and general atmosphere, like, the very reason I’d been drawn to his style in the first place, he totally nailed that. Couldn’t have asked for a better fit to the general ambiance of the piece. The colors were just the right shade of otherworldly, a great mix of light and darkness that sold the gloom of the surrounding environs without drowning in dark palettes that make it hard to pick out individual details and differentiate between figures. So on and so on.

EVERY SINGLE OTHER THING ABOUT THE DAMN ILLUSTRATION IS PERFECT LOL.

Except for the only fucking part I was worried about in the first place, lmaaaaaaaaaao whyyyyyyy.

And I mean, because his style was a combo of illustration and painting, there was never gonna be a ton of room for revisions or tweaks to the final piece, I knew and understood that going in. He showed me what he had when he was done with the initial pencilwork, before he painted over it, but with the understanding that it could still change from that point, if he needed to shift things around because of the way the colors and lighting and shadows were all coming out once painted. And the pencil work lacked the finer details that he added into his painting in the final stages, so like, I did see a rough draft before he started painting, and could ask for tweaks or adjustments at that point...except at that point, I didn’t NEED to! LOL. In the rougher sketch, her general position was just shifted enough from what it ended up being that like, it wasn’t my ideal pose for her but nothing I’d say I actually had a problem with, like her upper body was elevated just enough and at just the right angle compared to what he ended up with that at that point, there was no unnatural hip thrust or any of that stuff, and there was only a rough sense of what would come to be the final armor. So I mean, TECHNICALLY I had an opportunity to pump the brakes and be like whoa wait dude, this isn’t what we discussed, can I get you to go back to the drawing board just in this one specific area right here and maybe even just take another look at those comps I sent you, see what I mean about what I’m trying to avoid and how that’s kinda sneaking in here anyway....except, I didn’t think I had to say anything at that point lol, because it all looked on track??

I mean, its not like I think he deliberately misled me with that initial draft or anything, nothing as dramatic as that. I’m fairly certain that like most artists and designers will tell you, in the process of like, the actual drawing/painting/designing, you have to make adjustments as you go to account for the little unforseen speedbumps where you were juuuuuust off enough in your prediction of how this would look when working in your ultimate medium, that you have to like...keep nudging your initial outline little by little as you go to account for the slight shift in direction...with gradually that adding up to a fairly significant departure in the end. Ultimately, I think we ended up with what we ended up with because he was good with focusing on my specific concerns when drafting in pencil and just mapping out a general intent, but the closer he got to finishing up his piece, the less and less focused he was on the stuff I prioritized rather than his own innate prioritizations and so he just kinda figured ‘is it really gonna be THAT big a deal?’ instead of sacrificing a direction or angle that played into what he thought was a more important design element. Stuff like that. Like, you know me, I’m def not saying that makes it A-Ok in my book, lol, I just mean to say I honestly don’t think it was...a willful, conscious effort on his part to leave me with something as far removed from what I was hoping for as what I got.

So again I say blech. Its just super frustrating and obnoxious and I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it for like, months now. Because again, EVERYTHING ELSE is perfect and gorgeous and like, yes, good, this is what I wanted, what I was hoping for. Like, I literally could not come up with a design using my own go-to mediums that would come anywhere close to capturing the general feel and tone and mood of the story and its setting better than the overall vibe of his piece.

Its just the protag, front and center, is absolutely driving me fucking nuts. And I keep going back and forth endlessly because I’m like is it really THAT bad and noticeable or am I hyper-fixating because I specifically tried to avoid this end result and ended up with at least a version of it anyway? And then I’m like psst, remember how much fucking money you spent on this, like yeah thats long gone and doesn’t change your current situation one way or another so it doesn’t really matter except oh yeah its totally gonna fucking haunt you if you don’t use this lol and all that money was spent for nothing lmfao you dumbass. And then I’m like, just to weigh my options, what would I design for this cover myself, if I ended up scrapping this and making my own from scratch, do I at least have anything in mind that’s for sure not any worse than my dissatisfaction with this? Except lol I literally can not seem to come up with ANYTHING, like, total blank, because again there’s just enough that I LIKE about the piece that its like, now that I’ve seen THOSE aspects of it, I’m not gonna be content with any cover that doesn’t contain them and I just literally have no way of replicating those effects via my own design medium.

Ugh. So its really annoying, and I keep going around and around and around in circles and making no progress on what to do about it and like...ugh. I hate being so anal about shit like this, especially when I am usually pretty good about dodging the hyper-fixation tendencies on this front specifically.....but I just got whammied but good by the way all of this unfolded and came together and now I feel stuck and lmao I’m really not fond of the fact that I’m really fucking proud of this book and how it came out in terms of the writing and story but like, covers ARE actually a pretty big deal as they’re literally a reader’s first impression, and I feel like no matter which route I go, a big part of me is gonna be doomed to be like NO YOU FUCKING IDIOT THAT WAS THE WRONG CHOICE, UGH WTF DUDE, TURN AROUND, UNDO, UNDO, U’LL REGRET THIIIIIIIS.

ANYWAY! That’s my much ado about nothing. I was kinda hoping that hashing it all out in a post and working my way through it as I wrote it all down would like....magically reveal the Right Decision to me and everything would click and be so obvious by the time I got to this point in the post, but alas.

Fix-It Machine broke. This accomplished nothing. UGH. RUDE.

[themoosewaslooseabootthehoose]

Journal Posting 2: Things I’ve Learned/ Things to Steal #1

      In The Photographer, I really appreciated the use of color. Whether it be night, in a club, outside, sunset, or snow it was all depicted in really interesting ways. The entirety of the story had pale earthy tones. I imagine that either the places visited themselves actually looked that way or the artist was trying to capture the desert-like, Middle-Eastern vibes through depicting environments in that way. In the contrast of light and dark, details were included to guide reader focus. For instance, there's a scene where the power goes out. As an aside, the darkness here also possesses an earthiness in color. Anyway, the scene depicts the characters' conversation about the darkness, heat, and lack of water. The inclusion of details of the room though hard to make out contributes to a feeling of claustrophobia and having but not. When I say having but not, I'm referring specifically to the lack of water. When compared to the lack of light, they have all the necessities for survival or just comfort anyway, but they don't have the crucial piece, those being water and light. I like the way discomfort was portrayed and hope to be able to pay that much attention to detail in my own work. It's little things here and there that contribute to an overall mood. I don't know if it was simply an artistic choice, or whether they were actually trying to make me feel the way I did but I think it was a great way of using contrast, as in many other panels of this comic, but also including finer details. A few panels were shown in this style, making the feeling heavier. The return of light created a feeling of relief. I hope to be able to incite emotional contrast through the use of color or light contrast. Those feelings the comic stirred up in me are some I have not considered when making my own comics. This specific comic is much longer, so variety of form and techniques a sprinkled throughout, but this is one of my favorite techniques encountered. The following panels I'll cover use contrast as well. I think its use can say a lot, and even though I'm doing much shorter comics I think I can work out ways to use it to create the same types of impact.

      On page 97 in The Photographer, there is an image of some people on a hill. They are all depicted in black where the sunset is all red. I love the way this contrast and use of color ties in with the themes of the story. They are in a war-torn environment fraught with violence and death. The black takes away a sense of identity from the characters in the shot. They may as well be anyone in the area. They're all there, whether they choose to be or not, and they are subject to the ongoing conflict. This conflict hurts all. There are no favorites or specifics. Though each side may believe themselves to be in the right, everyone loses in the end. Friends, family members, loved ones in general all die. This general application to all is further emphasized by the use of the red backdrop. It paints a picture of blood, death, danger, and hardship. It wraps around everyone in black. None are truly safe in this place. Now, I'm not sure if the sun actually sets in red there, but I think the artist was trying to be symbolic in its use. I want to include this symbolism through color, but I feel as though that will be too difficult to achieve with the use of colored pencils, markers, or pens. If I want the richness of those full reds or blacks, or any color used throughout, I will need to invest in some type of photoshop software. The best I can do now is to contrast white and black. So far, I haven't really taken advantage of the contrast though it is present simply by what the colors are. Strategic use of that contrast will require a little more planning and awareness. The comics I've done so far are simpler communications. Once I start focusing on heavier subject matter, then I would want to pay more attention to the emotional impact of the entire piece. The subject matter need not be heavy, but those would be the most obvious instances in which I would use contrast emphasis.

     The artist for The Photographer is a master at using contrast. I just can't get over it. In pages 216-217, the narrator is struggling with his horse, overwhelmed by fear. In the rush of feeling, the narrator begins to beat his horse. The background is a dark pale blue. Both the horse and Didier are depicted as black figures, sprinkled with droplets of snow. As the sequence begins, the droplets are vast across their figures. As Didier comes to a place of shock, horror, realization, and stillness the snow lessens. Panel by panel the snow thins demonstrating the inner workings of Didier's feelings. He's in such a rush that he starts going crazy. When he realizes what he's doing he stops. The contrast helps bring focus to the snow, and the snow brings focus to the emotions of the scene. I loved the depiction of Didier's mental state through the use of contrast and movement in this grouping of panels. Like I said before, I've yet to tackle subject matter where I would think to use these kinds of techniques but I plan to. It will take a little more time and effort to come up with content ideas that could take advantage those techniques, but as with The Photographer, the outcome could be something really special. This was a great combination of showing and telling. The stress in Didier's voice was made clear by the use of showing. This comic is a great inspiration for attention to emotion. Not everything is shown, but the black figures give us enough to feel the great struggle. I plan to use these examples to better the comics I do in the future.

[star-trashinum]

Shine for you, Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - A Faint Sparkle

Characters - Ruby Kurosawa/Mari Ohara

Tags - Slow burn, Romance, tags to be added as chapters progress

Description - Childhood friends, a puppy crush, blossoming into love.

Word Count - 2075

Notes - This will be my first multichap fic that’s more than just 2 chapter, and will also be about my own personal favourite rare pair.

I hope you enjoy it; comments and feedback would be wonderful!

(Italics indicate Mari’s English, and bold indicates texting

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

Te o nobase! Sore kara nayame!

Te o nobase! Sore kara nayame!

         Mari flops down on the floor, much too exhausted for a spoiled rich girl after a particularly grueling Aqours practice. “Very exhausted!!!~” Mari screams, before rolling over to press her face to the concrete, hoping that the lack of sun in her eyes will help her cool by some magical feat. She feels a small tap on her shoulder, which she verifies is not a spider by the fact that she only feels it for that fraction of a second. Rolling back over, she looks to see a pair of big green eyes staring at her, which could have been one of two people. The bright red pigtails and the fact that she was closer to the ground gave it away, though.

         “U-Umm… Mari-oneechan… could I ask for something?” Ruby asks, recoiling the hand that poked Mari’s back as she turned over to face her, “I-I need your help with school.”

         “Why, of course, dear little Ruby!~” Mari exuberantly replies, sitting right back up, “what seems to be ailing you, little child; does someone need to be taken care of?” Mari’s question was more comedic than serious, but knowing her status and what she had power over, it was scary to think about the things she actually could do.

         “W-Wha-- N-no no; no one needs to be taken care of!!” Ruby explains, wondering in her head what the whole ‘taken care of’ thing meant, “I meant t-that I needed help studying; everyone is really busy, but Ruby knows that you speak English, a-and she wanted to ask… if you could help her with homework…” Mari blinks astoundedly for a second; sure, she was chairwoman, but… school tended to be a ‘do it last minute to barely pass’ sort of thing. Oh well, Ruby was quite cute about it, and it was true that she was at least passingly familiar with English to lend a hand.

         “Why of course, my dear Ruby; mama Mari’s always here to help!” Mari happily tells her as she pulls out her phone, pulling up a calendar, “Hmmm… I should be alright at any time on days we don’t have practice, chairwoman things can always be adjusted; just text me when you’re free!”

         “O-Ok Mari-oneechan… thank you.”

---

Ganbaruby -

- hey mariiii

- im free tomorrow do you want to meet somewhere; i need help with understanding my homework for an upcoming test

Shiiiny -

- of course!!!

- Do you want to meet up at one of the cafes near the hotel? The whole thing will be on me; i just wanna help you study \owo/

Ganbaruby -

- O ok thank u so much

- ill see u then!!

---

         Getting off the bus, Ruby quickly makes her way to the massive seaside hotel, still not used to the sheer size of it and how her friend just… casually lived in it… because she owned it. Making her way through the massive and heavy glass doors, she surveys around the foyer, before finding an elegantly designed sign above a door, reading ‘Cafe - Cazzo di Caffetteria’. The cafe’s decor is quite rustic and simple, but its elegance speaks volumes; polished and meticulously built wooden furniture dots the floor of the cafe. Low hanging lamps with yellowed bulbs cast the most beautiful of shadows on the brick-walled room, giving off an extremely home-y look. State of the art espresso machines, French presses and hand-cranked grinders make up the front station, along with an array of shelves filled with coffee beans, cutlery and anything you’d ever need and more for a cafe. A curved glass display case houses an assortment of small cakes and cookies, along with sandwiches for people looking for a small snack. The dimly lit and warm tones of the room, along with the menagerie of hotel guests gives an extremely fancy vibe, and Ruby is almost too intimidated to enter before a familiar, shrill voice calls to her.

         “Oh, I’m here, Ruby!!~” Mari calls out, waving incessantly as she distracts some of the customers near her, “Now let’s get started on your work, and let good ol’ Mari here help you with your work!” Ruby walks over towards Mari’s table, setting her bag down beside her chair as she sits down onto the chair; wooden and heavy, contrasted with a lovely plush seat cover. The heavy cardstock menu is overflowing with menu items, a literal half of the menu dedicated to just different ways to take your coffee. The items have their English names written in beautiful painstakingly drawn calligraphy, and Ruby can barely make out the word ‘Coffee’ before giving up to read the Japanese titles given on the menus. “See anything you like, Ruby-chan?” Mari kindly asks, gesturing to the menu that Ruby is meticulously scanning through, “since this cafe is part of the hotel, you can order whatever you’d like on the menu, in the house!~”

         “M-Mari-oneechan… isn’t the saying ‘on the house’?” Ruby responds, confused now by both the large assortment of coffees and Mari’s english, “a-and i have my choice, s-so we can order now.” Mari looks into mind, realizing that, yes, the term ‘in the house’ is very incorrect; blushing at the embarrassment of messing up the language she was about to teach Ruby. Mari waves over to a barista that’s currently polishing one of the coffee cups, and clears her throat as the barista pulls out a pen and notepad from her apron.

         “What can I get you two today?”

         “Y-yes, can I get a dark roast with three sugars and two shots of espresso and a lemon tart,” Mari responds, giving the barista her usual order; tailored perfectly to the eccentric, energetic blonde, “and what will you have, Ruby?”

         “Oh… um… right… c-can Ruby have a warm milk tea… green tea please… and a s-strawberry shortcake,” Ruby calls out, making sure to check over her order multiple times, before nodding to give the barista the OK. The barista finishes jotting down the order before heading back to their station, starting up their order. Wanting to get down to buisness, Ruby reaches down to her bag, pulling out her English textbook, along with a pastel pink notebook, covered in little doodles of flowers along the front page. “S-So, the test I have upcoming is about verbs and adjectives, and I have a bunch of practice problems, s-so Mari-oneechan can help with those…” Ruby explains, opening her textbook up to a set of problems, “will that be OK with you?”

         Mari looks at Ruby’s book; sure, she knew what all the words meant… sorta… but putting them together into well-crafted, organized sentences? That wasn’t Shiny enough. To be shiny was to express yourself in how shiny you were, not some grammatically correct nonsense that wouldn’t dare to capture the shininess of it all. She would manage, though; helping little Ruby would have to come first.

"Of course!! You know, I'm very good at English, if you could tell," Mari reminds her, flashing up her trademark 'OK!!~' symbol with her hand, "let's get one of these questions done so I know what we're working with, no?" Ruby nods in agreement, flipping through the textbook to a pre-bookmarked page, preparing herself by taking out a silver-colored mechanical pen. "Y-Yeah, that sounds good… O-OK, here’s a good one to start with,” Ruby begins, hovering the pencil towards the instructions, then to the first sample sentence, “add an adjective that best fits the sentence; ‘The kitten is very ___.’” Ruby looks towards a box of sample words on the bottom of that page, trying to think of the word that would best fit a small animal. “Do you think ‘cute’ would describe a kitten, Mari-oneechan?” Ruby asks, cocking her head to the side.

“I think the kitten would be shiny!” Mari answers, feeling confident in her words before looking towards a very confused Ruby, “Think about it; both you and the kitten are small and adorable, and Ruby is very shiny, therefore; ‘The kitten is very shiny.” Mari puts on a high and triumphant face, closing her eyes to appreciate how concrete her reasoning was for the kitten to be shiny. The self-appreciation goes away quickly as she looks to her pupil, who is bright red and almost shaking in embarrassment. Mari leans in to look at the embarrassed mess in front of her, realizing that she had just accidentally hit on one of her childhood friends, more specifically, the little sister of her very protective childhood friend. “Y-You alright, Ruby?” Mari sheepishly questions, trying to gauge how she should handle the immense awkwardness sitting right in front of her, “sorry that I just said that all willy-nilly, did I frighten ya?”

“Y-Yeah... I'm all good, y-you just caught me off guard, t-that’s all…” Ruby tells Mari, fidgeting, as if to say something,  “It’s just... all the words come from a word bank… and the word shiny isn't in there, Mari-oneechan.” The two sit in a state of deafening silence, not able to form any coherent words until the barista comes with a large platter with their orders.

“An order for Miss Ohara and her friend,” the waitress announces, before setting the dishes on the table for the two girls, “if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, Miss Ohara.” Mari gives the barista a nod, before giving her a wave of thanks; she would be sure to ask later to take the dishes away, if she could remember what her name was. There were a lot of staff members at the hotel, and brown, short hair was all too common. She purses her lips, only coming to the conclusion that her named started in an S.

Ruby clasped her hands together, eyes shining in delight as she looked at her order, “Wow Mari, this all looks so exquisite; it looks almost too good to eat!” She gives a silent nod of thanks before taking her fork to the cake, parting both the spongy cake and the decadent filling to make a small piece for herself. Stabbing the shortcake, Ruby’s eyes light up at she takes her first bite, a mumbled squee of approval as she chews and takes in the flavour of the treat. “-chew chew- It’s so sweet and fluffy Mari, you should give it a try!” Ruby exclaims, cutting off another small piece of her cake, as she extends her arm to hand her a piece of her dessert. Truth be told, Mari had tested every single item on this menu, but Ruby's request was so cute that she couldn’t resist. Momentarily blushing, Mari leans over as she takes the small piece off the fork with her lips, remembering full well how delicious that particular cake was.

“Fluffy and cute, and particularly sweet too, just perfect for Ruby,” Mari thinks, finishing up the small bite, before realizing exactly what she had thought, “wait what am I thinking she’s like a sister-- oh god I used her fork for that Dia will kill me.” Mari momentarily panicked, hoping that Ruby wouldn’t notice the indirect lip contact as the girl took another bite out of her cake. Taking a sip from her dangerously caffeinated beverage, Mari watches as Ruby cutely furrows her brow in concentration. She looks back and forth between her notes and the book, before letting out a small huff.

“Is everything alright, little Ruby?” Mari worriedly asks, concerned by Ruby’s somewhat upset face.

“Y-Yeah… just confused on how you would use some of these words,” Ruby admits, writing a sentence out, before erasing it shortly after, “M-Mari-oneechan, could you help Ruby out here?”

Ruby actually really trusted in her to teach her, huh?

If it was one of the members of her subunit, they would've already known the pretense that working Mari brought; but Ruby really depended on her, probably because of how long they've know each other.

That was it, right? Mari gives a small chuckle,as she stand up out of her chair, causing Ruby to look suddenly up from her book as she sees Mari turn around to pick up her chair. With a newfound, confident stride, she walks the wooden chair and places it beside Ruby, before sitting back down. "Sorry for joking around earlier, little Ruby, this time good ol' Mari-oneechan is gonna really help with your homework, ok?" Mari announced, watching Ruby give a smile in response, "Good; let's get to it, shall we?"