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#books and boxes and just clutter
wall-e-gorl · 25 days
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just finished the last step of decluttering my room 💪why did i have so much stuff 💪
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I feel like it’s too soon but I wanna change my blog theme again ;v;
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ms-demeanor · 1 month
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Can you offer any advice for avoiding hoarding when part of the problem is that trying to deal with the clutter and garbage and dirt causes paralyzing anxiety? I want my house to be clean and cluttered because it's stuff I like, but instead it's full of trash and stuff that had a place but doesn't seem to fit back in it after being used.
I can absolutely offer advice about that.
Short TL;DR:
Select the room you want to clean and make a map of it.
Divide the room into small segments like "top of desk" or "cabinet under sink" or even "half of junk drawer." SMALL segments.
Designate bags "trash," "donate," and "consider later."
Schedule a time to work on cleaning each segment, don't just assume "i'll do it next week." Write down an assigned day for each area.
Go into your target area and sort things into those bags.
Optionally, create a bag for memento items to put into a specific memento box/book.
Take bags out of the space when they are full to make more room to work and to see progress.
Do the section for the day and stop. Don't get overwhelmed by a ton of stuff, stop when you've done what you planned for the day (unless you've got good momentum built up and continuing will energize you.)
Long TL;DR:
Go someplace where you are not looking at the mess. You want to draw a map of the room, but you do not want to be in the room. Work one room at a time.
Divide the area you want to clean into very small spaces. You aren't cleaning an entire desk, you are cleaning one drawer of a desk.
Take three containers with you for each section: one trash bag, one donation bag, and one bag of stuff to consider later.
Plan out time to work on the space. Don't say "I'll do the whole thing this weekend" or "I'll get to it after the holidays," sit down and write out a schedule. There's a version of this called 40 bags in 40 days that people do for lent (that was the version of this i first found and followed the first time i did it), but you could do it in ten days, or a hundred, just try to stick to working on each segment on the day it's scheduled.
In each space, keep the stuff that's obviously meant to go there in that space, so if you're cleaning a desk drawer and it has a stapler in it, the stapler can stay there but if the staples and paper clips and rubber bands are a mess put that stuff into the "consider later" bin. Same thing with papers; if you've got a bunch of papers and you may need to keep some and may need to trash some, put them in the "consider later"
THERE IS AN OPTIONAL BIN FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO A MILLION MEMENTOS AND CONCERT TICKETS AND SUCH. I make them by getting gallon freezer bags and filling them up with business cards and concert programs and scraps of wrapping paper and birthday cards. This isn't quite "consider later" because it's probably stuff you know you want to keep, this is "I don't have a home for this thing right now but it's not trash" so this is a temporary home for that category.
Remove stuff from the space as you work. As you fill up a bag of trash or consider later or donate, take it out of the space so you aren't looking at it and you can see the progress you're making on the space.
Do each section as you come to it on your schedule and then call it quits. If you cleaned out the counter next to the sink and that was your area for the day, you don't have to worry about the area under the sink unless you have the energy and enthusiasm for it.
Philosophical musing about why this works
The reason this kind of plan works (for me) is by pre-managing several things. You know you're working with a limited area, you know what you're going to do with the stuff you find in that area (put it in one of your bags or leave it where it is if it belongs in that area), you're working on a limited time so this can't stretch out forever it's just a little chunk, you're thinking about the space as you build your plan so you're visualizing the anxiety inducing thing outside of the space that actually gives you the anxiety which hopefully allows you to detach slightly from the anxiety, and you're getting your steps lined up ahead of time so there's no muddle of "what do i do now, how do I get started" - you get started by grabbing your bags and you go to that day's scheduled section.
The whole thing is constructed to prevent you from getting overwhelmed.
I used to try to clean my room as a kid and I would find something that needed to get put away but I didn't know where it went so I'd spend a bunch of time trying to make a space for it and I'd end up getting lost in the weeds of imagining how I'd use the item and if the new place for it was accessible, and oh look at the items that I found in this other place where I was going to put this item and this method cuts off all of that. Where I am putting the item is in the bag, where it is going is the "consider later" pile and when I've cleared out most of the space I can consider where things go when I've gathered all the uncertain things into one place instead of continually unearthing them and disrupting the process of going through stuff.
What it means to Consider Later
The reason you're working room by room is because you should be isolating the consider later pile by room. If you're cleaning out the bedroom you may end up with stuff that belongs in the kitchen or the office, but you'll end up with a lot of stuff that belongs in the bedroom. When you've worked through all your segments, you can sort the consider later pile and now that you have all the objects together, you can consider whether some of them belong together in a space in the room.
For instance, when I first did this there were a lot of books that needed to go on bookshelves, but my bookshelves weren't accessible in the early parts of the process. So books from the floor and the bed and the nightstand went into the consider later pile and after the whole floor was clear and there was no trash on my desk and all the books I was donating had been pulled from my bookshelves, I was able to organize all of my books at once instead of stumbling across a book every four minutes and trying to shelve it.
That's what spawned the memento bags for me; there was a ton of stuff in my consider later bags that didn't precisely have a place but weren't trash and needed a place made for them. If I'd struggled to find where each item went as I cleaned it would have completely stalled me out.
I kept finding yarn as I went but I didn't have a dedicated yarn spot, so I just put yarn in the consider later pile and at the end I found a basket for it and put it on a shelf in the closet that had been cleared out when I'd donated old clothes. If I had tried to find a spot for the yarn before donating the clothes, I would have had to move it once the better spot opened up, so saving all the consider later stuff for later saved me from having to move stuff several times.
If you're in a small space or if you're living with people and you can't make a pile of stuff in another room for two weeks, at the very least remove the trash and donation bags as you go and designate an area for your consider later pile; maybe a laundry basket or something similar so that you can keep it mobile as you clean.
It's kind of like moving in to a new space. When you move in to an empty room, you have all your stuff in boxes and you need to figure out where it goes and that can take a while, but it's sometimes easier to find a place to put things in a new environment than it is to put things back "where they belong" because maybe you've added a dozen skeins to your collection and they don't belong in the little yarn bag anymore.
What to trash, what to donate, and what to consider later
Trash should be immediately obvious as trash. Anything that is trash goes in the trash bag right away.
If you find yourself thinking "but I might use this plastic fork that came with my value meal," or "this receipt may be important," put it in the consider later pile and don't think about it right now.
The donate bag should be for stuff that will still be useful for someone, but won't be useful for you. Clothes that you don't like, books you hated and won't re-read, toys you don't want to keep, all of that goes in the donate pile. If you think you might want to keep a piece of clothing but you want to make sure it doesn't fit, don't stop to try it on now just put it in the consider later pile and you can sort it into the donate bag later.
"Consider later" is for anything that requires more than thirty seconds of thought or effort to handle. If you're looking at your desk and you've got a keyboard for your computer on your desk that keyboard is staying there and doesn't need to be considered. If there's an empty takeout cup on your desk, that cup is going in the trash and doesn't need to be considered. If there's a receipt for your computer sitting on your desk, you may want to save that for record-keeping purposes but may not have a place to put it, so that is what you consider later.
Some guidelines on what is or is not trash
You might look at a sturdy plastic cup from a gas station and say "that isn't trash, I could use that, that's still good" but unless you have a specific purpose in mind for it right now, that is trash. If you wouldn't put it in a donation box to be used for some ambiguous future purpose, you don't need to keep it.
If you have a specific purpose in mind, like using an old milk jug to make a watering pitcher for your plants, it may not be trash. But only ONE is not trash; more than that is trash.
If you wouldn't need to have a hard copy of a paper and you have an electronic copy, it is trash. This means receipts for most everyday purchases like groceries and fast food. Don't keep receipts for items past their return period, don't keep receipts for items that you have a digital copy of unless that item cost over $1000.
Nice cardboard boxes (or good glass jars, or sturdy plastic takeout boxes, or cleaned food containers) that you don't have a use for are trash (or recycling, depending on where you live, but still in the trash category).
If you know someone who is specifically looking for an item (like maybe the neighbor kids are asking for cardboard tubes for a science project, or you work with a meal delivery group that could use extra packets of takeout utensils, or you have a friend who is into canning and has asked for jars, or if you make your own soup stock and need containers to put it in, or if you have a friend who is moving and needs lots of good cardboard boxes) then these items don't *have* to be trash but if you are just keeping them in your space and not giving them to people who want them or putting them to use yourself, they are just trash in your space and you should throw them away.
Memory Books/Memento Bags
I make memory books out of the little items i collect into one gallon storage bags. They allow me to hang onto the stuff that I want to keep because it brings me good memories without having a pile of random junk and sometimes without having to keep the item, or having to keep the whole item.
If the thing I want to keep because it brings me good memories is bulky, perhaps I can take a put a picture of that item to put in the book. If it is a worn out shirt, perhaps I can cut a patch off the shirt to put it in the book. If it is a card, perhaps I can cut out just the front of the card, or I can almost certainly just throw away the envelope and put the card in the book.
If you have things that do *not* fit into the memory book, like costume jewelry or rocks or a weird toy you got out of a coin machine on a really fun family vacation, you can also make a memory box; I have some of these and they've got a bunch of truly random crap in them, but I *like* having the nametag from the four hours that I worked at Denny's, or the keychain from when my mom took me to the morgue training class. It's fine to like these things, and to keep many of them, but you want to keep them someplace that they won't stress you out; that might be a display case for nice things, but it also might be a pretty velvet bag that you periodically pull out of a drawer and sort through like a magpie, or a wooden box that you painted.
You can also be selective about this stuff. You don't need every piece of costume jewelry your grandmother owned; keep the pieces you really like or the ones you have strong memories of or the ones that are very nice or the ones that are in good shape. But look, my mom was a teacher and she had a wide variety of goofy holiday jewelry that she wore in the classroom and I don't need to hang onto that. I don't need the big plastic ghost earrings that won't fit in my plugs, but I'll hang onto the spider brooch. She collected cheap watches - I don't need all of her four dollar watches, I can keep the nice ones, or the one that she got for ten years at her job. Do the same thing with stuffed animals and baby clothes and magazines and children's books. You don't need to keep all of it, and keeping all of it isn't going to help you remember that time more, or remember that person better.
Do you really want to keep it or do you feel obligated?
Youtuber Caroline Winkler (who has some great videos about home organization that I like a lot, in particular "this is why your home is a mess" - with the caveat that she likes closed storage and my ADHD ass loves open storage) has a really great tip on getting rid of stuff that works a LOT better for me than the Marie Kondo "Does this spark joy?" question and it's the Red Wine Test. Instead of asking if an item sparks joy, you ask yourself "If a bottle of red wine spilled on this (or if it was in some other way damaged) how hard would I try to fix it?" If you wouldn't try very hard, or if you would be *relieved* then you can get rid of that item. If one of the Venom mugs I have on the shelf fell down and broke, I wouldn't try hard to fix it. If my cat stuffed animal from when I was a kid tore open, I would immediately be looking for my sewing kit.
.... I should recycle those cheap teal glasses, actually.
Some general tips that may help to get you started that work for me and my ADHD and may work for you and your anxiety:
Start a timer for a short time. You don't have to clean your whole house, you are just going to pick up for five minutes. Then you can stop, and you only have to face a *little* bit of the anxiety.
5-4-3-2-1-go. Don't overthink it, count down quickly and then get up and do something. Keep going in as long a spurt as you can manage without getting too upset, but cutting down on the time for pre-game fretting might help with the anxiety.
Do the smallest amount possible. You don't have to clean this room, you just have to take one dish to the sink. You don't have to do all the dishes, you can just unload part of the top tray of the dishwasher.
Some general tips on trying to keep a space clean:
First, encouragement: It is a lot easier to maintain a clean space than it is to create one.
If you're thinking that something needs to be done and it can take you under five minutes to do it and it's right in front of you, do it. I do this with my dishwasher. It turns out unloading the dishwasher is the main thing that stalls me on dishes and keeps my sink full, so now when I'm waiting for the kettle or letting my tea steep, I unload whatever I can get done in that time. If I have the vacuum out and I did my living room but the hall and the bedroom could use a quick pass too, I vacuum them while I've got the machine in my hand.
Set success traps. Success traps are things that let you fall into succeeding by front-loading the effort (or executive function) of cleaning with planning. Trash collects in your living space? Put a bunch of little trash cans everywhere. Cleaning your bathroom takes extra time because you have to go get glass cleaner and paper towels from another room? Keep a bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels under the sink. You never sweep because it is a pain in the ass to get the broom out of the broom closet? Hang the broom from a mount in the kitchen. It takes too long to clean the counter because you have to pick up a bunch of makeup brushes and bottles and soap? Put that shit on a tray and now you only have to move one thing to clean the counter.
And for your specific question, with "things never seem to quite fit back where they came from" sounds like you're playing storage tetris, which is when things have a place and it is a *very specific and exact* place that doesn't have a lot of room around it. You may need to think about downsizing for your space, or, more likely, think about more efficient storage. That Caroline Winkler video I linked has some tips on this ("don't store things in a way that will make you angry like putting your common use objects on an out of reach shelf or you'll never put things back because it's hard to put them back" and "maximize your weirdo spaces" speak to your situation, i think) that I've put into use, particularly in my kitchen. It was hard to keep the counter clear because it was hard to put my stand mixer away because the rack for the stand mixer had a wok and a bunch of cast iron pans and a panini press and a chafing dish on it; I put the panini press and the least-used cast iron and the chafing dish and the wok in a more out-of-the way cabinet (because i basically never use them but they're very useful when I need them) and now that shelf has a little grill, my more commonly used cast iron, and my stand mixer so putting away the stand mixer is a lot less effort so my counter stays clear. I wasn't using the top shelf of my dish cabinet for dishes because it's too high up for daily use, but it's perfect for the rice cooker, waffle maker, and food processor that I use less than my dishes but more than my george forman grill.
And anyway, the TL;DR for all of that:
Work a little bit at a time, be nice to yourself, don't keep things that aren't worth keeping, and configure your storage in a way that works for you (by keeping your lifestyle, the way you use things, and how easy it is to put away into account before deciding that's where something lives).
Good luck!
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felixandresims · 10 months
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Hello Hello Hello :),
I swear it's a coincidence that EA just published a Book Nook kit, maybe they have seen my hint from last month :D, joking.
I am thrilled to show you this month's items, a 40-piece modular library. The bookshelves are traditional in style and perfect for a chateau setting, in my opinion :) The Bookshelf can be made from six pieces: two single-tile bookshelves, a 2-tile version, a rounded inside corner, an outside corner, and an extra decorative piece for separation. The bookshelves are full height and you will get short, medium, and tall versions. To spice up this library you will get ladders for the medium and tall versions.
Now let me reveal a little secret, I made functional secret book doors matching the shelves, I included arch versions too :) People were asking me to make them for years, but don't ask me why it took me so long to create them :D, I loved watching my testing sims walk through the book wall.
To fill up all the space I created 14 clutter items, 9 book pieces in two different styles and various sizes, 2 sculptures, 2 vases, and a box. I matched the slots to the dimensions of my items and everything can be mixed and matched quite well :)
This Set is on Early Access and you will find it here
Thank you again for all the support I hope you enjoy using this set!
Happy Simming and lots of Love,
Felix xxx
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livinghostly · 18 days
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i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader
a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition
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you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.
megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer. 
he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.
closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.
the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.
satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this. 
megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like. 
you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.
still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.
megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.
but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.
you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.
satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.
your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway. 
“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words. 
“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”
it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children. 
“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”
(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).
“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence. 
satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.
he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”
it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.
“mhm.”
“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”
you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”
“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”
“he said that to be nice.”
“when has he ever been nice?”
you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home. 
it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.
satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”
it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.
tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.
the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.
“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”
satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.
“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”
a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.
“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”
he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.
“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.
he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”
“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”
“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”
it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.
“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”
satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.
he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students. 
you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”
he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”
his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.
you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.
neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried. 
yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”
it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta. 
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you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.
satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.
it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.
a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.
“hello?”
“hey, mom?”
it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.
“yes, megumi?”
“um… are you home?”
you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”
“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.
“oh. okay. did you take–“
“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”
you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.
“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”
“thanks.”
he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.
“mom?”
“yeah?”
“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”
you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”
“he’s back tomorrow?”
“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”
“thanks.”
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bonus:
satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.
he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.
satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack. 
he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”
the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.
megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said. 
his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.
satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.
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tkingfisher · 1 year
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So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?
How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?
Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3
*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.
But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.
Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.
Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.
Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)
There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.
In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)
Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.
This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?
Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)
For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.
You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.
(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)
Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.
At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.
(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)
So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.
Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.
(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)
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emissaire · 14 days
Text
is it hot in here? - jjk men x reader (part i)
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based off of these headcanons i wrote almost 3 years ago lmao
warnings/tags: crack, fluff, mature language, housemates! geto, gojo, nanami, choso & sukuna, neighbor! toji, implied reverse harem, mature language, mushy nicknames given to the reader because i absolutely refuse to use “y/n” lmao, a slight slice of life ig, half of em have beef w/ little megumi, nanami is the only normal person in the house, talks abt food // wc: 3.5k // lmk if i missed anything!
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It's hard being a college student, barely thriving in an environment filled with stressful deadlines you need to meet, sleepless nights just to maintain your GPA, things that need to be done each week and to top it all off, working as a bookstore clerk in your free time to help shoulder a bit of your student loans and everyday expenses. To say it simply, life is hectic. The odds seemed to be stacked against you as things appear to be getting even worse when you received an eviction notice from your landlord, giving you just a week to find a new place to stay.
On day five, you were fortunate enough to find an affordable and decent place that is a 20-minute drive away from your university. Though you find it a little suspicious since the rent is fairly cheap and it isn’t exactly an apartment complex but a house shared by five other people, you decided, screw it. You're desperate, certainly you don't want to be homeless? Besides, the place is neat and plenty huge. What's there to complain about?
Thursday morning, after a few back-and-forth texts with your manager at the book shop, begging him to let you off, you managed to haul most of your things to your new place with the help of your ever-gracious friend, Aoi. By the time you manage to get all of your things in your designated room, the other occupants are still nowhere in sight. You feel somehow comforted by that fact, still bothered by feeling like an intruder.
Weariness slowly seeps into your bones and without much fight, you let sleep consume you, laying down on the barely set-up bed in the middle of your disorganized space without any heed to the mess of boxes littered on the floor and the wide opened door of your bedroom.
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It's eerily quiet. Kento notes as he pushes the front door open with a sturdy hand, Choso and Suguru in tow. They're all exhausted from the chaotic buzz of the outside world, their shoulders finally loosening in relaxation at the familiar interior of their shared home.
"Oh— our new housemate should be here by now, correct?" Suguru breaks the silence, eyeing the place in search of a new face although he's only met by empty and unknowing stares. There is no sound of boxes being moved around, not even thuds of feet against the floorboards to indicate someone’s presence in the house aside from theirs.
"Maybe they postponed the move?" Choso offers, barely caring about his friend's concern as he struts to his own room so he can finally rest. Though his footsteps halt as soon as his eyes catch the sight of the supposed empty room— oh, someone's here.
"In here." He calls to the other two and within seconds, three pairs of eyes are prying into your room, one judgingly and two out of amusement.
"It's a girl." Kento speaks, eyes sweeping the entire space with both concern and a hint of astonishment at the cluttered boxes. How can she sleep with all that mess?
"Indeed." Suguru's face is embellished with a smile that he fails to contain. Choso could only elbow him in a scolding manner. The former, seemingly taking after a certain white-haired man's antics, dramatically howls and falls forward, slumping against his blond friend's back while he clutches his side.
"Get off!" Kento chides, shrugging the other male off of him.
You have always been a light sleeper, even the tiniest sound could wake you up from a good slumber. It's no wonder you're getting roused out of sleep by the ruckus made by the three individuals standing just outside of your bedroom door. It takes you a minute to realize though, blinking at them in confusion before scrambling up to your feet to greet them in your haze.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry for the mess! I'm the new tenant, it's so nice to meet you guys, finally!" You bow your head a bit in greeting, flashing the three a sheepish smile.
"It's no problem. You've only arrived, the mess is inevitable." The long-haired man says kindly, his eyes crinkled as he offers you a charming smile. "I'm Suguru, by the way. This is Kento," he gestures to the blond man who is already looking at you, a small yet amiable smile on his face too, "and Choso." Said man makes a saluting gesture to greet you.
You quickly introduce yourself, albeit a little timid. Being in the presence of three good looking men sure would make anyone almost melt on sight.
"Do you need help with unpacking?" Choso offers gently, the three of them waiting for your answer. Though you quickly turn it down politely, not wanting to be a bother on your first day here. Besides, the three of them probably have things to do, like resting. Kento stifles a yawn while Suguru’s eyes look sluggish while he leans on the equally tired-looking Choso.
"Well, okay. If you need any assistance, you can call us. Choso's room is right beside yours, mine and Suguru's are upstairs." Kento tells you and there's something about the way he sounds so caring despite only meeting you that makes you heat up and giddy.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, guys." With that, they leave you to your own devices so you can start unpacking and cleaning up.
It takes about an hour or two of silence before a tall figure blocks your door, 6 or something feet tall hovering in your room like a nosy child. "Hey there!"
"Hello?" You greet him back despite the confusion, watching him step over unopened boxes and check the things you've managed to set up in your room. He reminds you of a curious dog, sniffing around the space in interest.
Once he deems it enough snooping, the man strides over to you, looming over your frame as he looks at you through the sunglasses perched perfectly atop his nose bridge. "Satoru. It's nice to finally meet you." He says your name after his greeting and you look at him questioningly.
"Ahh, Suguru texted me about you." His stark white hair is distracting as you look up to meet his eyes and you can only nod in response.
"Get back here, you lunkhead!" A deep, agitated voice echoes in your room, coming from another tall (and another good-looking) man, stepping into your space, seemingly after someone though he immediately stops once he spots you in front of Satoru.
Sukuna's eyes flit along your body from head to toe before he acknowledges you with a friendly wave though the suggestive smile he has is anything but. He introduces himself with confidence, standing big and almost imposing despite being a head shorter than Satoru.
What is up with your housemates being obnoxiously attractive?
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7 months. It took you 7 long months to get used to the presence of your housemates without getting all jumpy. Sure, you still get flustered when Choso pats your head so affectionately every time you thank him for buying snacks for you; you stutter when Suguru teases you about your bedhead with a pinch to your cheeks; you start rambling when Kento asks you about your day and he only smiles and listens to you; you feel all hot and bothered when Satoru presses himself up against you when you cook or even when Sukuna parades himself around the house half-naked like it's no one's business, but hey, it's still progress!
"Hey, earth to, darling!" Suguru waves a hand in front of your face once he notices you've been staring into the distance in the middle of your conversation.
"Huh? Sorry, what was it again?" You're certain that the tips of your ears are red from getting caught spacing off again. You don't want him to get the wrong idea and assume that you find him boring— as a matter of fact, he is far from boring.
Geto Suguru is nowhere near bland and basic. Him and his inky, long, black hair that cascades along his back so beautifully you're almost jealous of it. Suguru, with the way he's always so gentle with you despite his tendencies of being playful. It's all in good fun but he never takes it too far as to hurt you. Sometimes you can even share a good back-and-forth conversation about just anything and nothing, like you’re supposed to be doing now, if he's not out being stupid with Satoru. It's just that recently, you find yourself daydreaming about your roommates at the most inappropriate times of the day.
The latter only laughs, nudging your cheek with his knuckle affectionately before he shakes his head. "Forget about it. Let's just bother Choso to cook for us. What do you say?" You're certain that you and Suguru are going to be yelled at but you indulge him anyway.
Choso was distant during your first few months in the house, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by being all up in your space like two of his friends were (are? since it's an occurrence that is still happening at present time), namely Satoru and Sukuna. He's warmed up to you now, bringing you snacks that you mention to him in passing every time he gets back from university. He's so attentive and caring in his own way and you appreciate all that he is. A wonderful man with such a wonderful face, you could stare at him and admire the horizontal tattoo across his face all day.
"No, I'm not gonna cook for you. Bother someone else." You were halfway down the hall when Choso steps out of his room with a disapproving frown. You swear, he's got some weird telepathic sense.
"How'd you know? Dude." Suguru mutters, scratching the back of his neck in a sheepish manner before backtracking to the kitchen with his hands placed on your shoulders as you walk in front of him.
"Let's just order takeout or something." You suggest once you've made it back, hopping on the stool and leaning forward against the countertop. Suguru settles beside you, one of his arms is around your shoulders now, his other hand blindly fishing for his phone inside the pocket of his sweatpants.
“Chinese!” Satoru throws in his suggestion once he enters the kitchen, heading straight towards the fridge to grab himself another sweet treat— it’s his sixth one today. You wonder how he maintains his pearly white teeth. As far as you know he has never experienced a toothache in his entire life.
“Want some this time, pretty? Sugu?” Satoru offers, looking over his shoulder to see you and his best friend with a bright smile. The thing about Satoru, no matter how insufferable he and his sweet addiction can get, he’s always thoughtful in his own way. He likes to share things that he has, whether it’s as insignificant as a pen to his favorite mochi from an expensive brand. You figured it’s innate to him with how he was brought up with a silver spoon in his mouth— not having to think about the consequence of spending or losing material things since he can always get a replacement, and better. In a way, Suguru took part in humbling the Gojo heir but it’s really just Satoru through and through: annoying with no financial sense, but sweet nonetheless.
“Nooo, we had Chinese food the other day! And another no, thank you.” You huff, eyes scanning the food delivery app displayed in Suguru’s phone.
“I want something greasy.” The latter mutters, clicking on an infamous fast food logo, ignoring his best friend’s quips about his unhealthy obsession with oily chickens, undercooked potatoes and bland-tasting burgers. It sounds rich coming from him, considering he’s the one gobbling up an entire box of macarons from a shop with a foreign name.
“You three are so fucking noisy.” Leave it to Sukuna to make such bold entrances with his deep voice and colorful vocabulary.
“Lovely of you to join us. Tell these two to order Chinese food right now!” Satoru sounds so overjoyed, thinking he found himself a comrade in Sukuna but the latter only scrunches his face in irritation.
“Don’t tell me what to do, punk. I’ll beat you up.”
“Okay. Let’s just have pasta instead.” You decide to step in, knowing that Sukuna’s provocation will lead to an endless bickering with Satoru refusing to back down and Suguru being dragged into their childish argument. It’s an almost everyday thing and at first, you found it amusing but now you’re just tired of it.
Sukuna looks and acts like a brute most of the time. He speaks with this certain edge in his tone and it doesn’t help that he lacks the ability to filter his words. You were most intimidated by him before you got to know him better, what with all his tattoos and deep voice (though you’re not denying that it suits his bad boy charisma). You didn’t expect him either to look after you when you got sick on your fourth week living with them, of all people. He was like a mother hen yapping his head off about how you need to go easy on yourself, to get as much sleep as you need while feeding you— he’s a real big softie behind his sharp tongue and I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-you persona.
“Kento! You just got home?” Suguru’s question makes you look towards the blond male’s direction just outside of the kitchen’s entryway. This makes the two idiots stop bickering as well, choosing to focus on Kento instead.
“Yeah. I was at Yu’s house the whole day.” Kento answers simply before frowning at the sight of you guys crowding the kitchen. “Don’t tell me you can’t decide what to have for dinner again.” He added, now making his way towards you with a roll of his eyes, carrying bags of what seems to be…food? Oh, thank the heavens!
“Is that Chinese?” Satoru ignores the previous question, opting to take some of the bags from the younger male and place it on the counter in front of you and Suguru.
“It’s not. Mrs. Haibara made them.” Kento sighs, placing the rest of the bags beside the others.
“So, Japanese?” You supply, digging through one of the bags to see for yourself.
“Why does it matter? It’s food.” Sukuna rolls his eyes before yelling at Choso to come join you in the kitchen so all of you can eat together.
“I didn’t even say you could have them.” The blond says out of indignation though he doesn’t do anything to stop Satoru from stabbing one slice of the chicken katsu from the container with a chopstick which makes Suguru slap his hand and scold him.
“Thank you, Ken. Come sit with me, let’s eat.” You pat the other stool beside you, promptly kicking Sukuna’s ass (literally) away when he attempts to occupy it.
“Wench.” The tattooed man mumbles, rubbing his behind as he settles beside Satoru across the three of you. You don’t say anything back, deciding to assist Kento with his own food out of courtesy and gratitude for his timely intervention. It wasn't worth it to stir up another childish bickering over food, and you'd rather keep the peace.
“I already ate but thanks, sweetheart.” Kento murmurs next to you, watching as you fret over him with a fond smile. The thing about Kento is that despite being a man of few words, he’s loud in other aspects that shows how much he cares. Like the way he always remembers his “annoying” housemates and brings back food because he knows that none of you, except Choso and Suguru, are responsible enough to make healthy food on your own. He may not say it outrightly but he gets quite worried about all of you all the time, and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s taken the responsibility of parenting grown adults even if it takes a toll on him sometimes. He doesn’t mind it as much now as he used to, knowing you’re there to watch out for him in return.
“You all deaf or somethin’? Someone’s been knocking at the door for a while now!” Choso complains as he passes by the kitchen, trudging towards the front door with a scowl as his stomach grumbles in hunger.
The door is opened to reveal your next door neighbor’s kid, Megumi, looking wary and a little upset that it was Choso who opened the door for him. “Is Miss Sunshine here?”
The older man’s brows furrowed in confusion, trying to decipher who “Miss Sunshine” is before the familiarity of the nickname hits him, making him squint his eyes down at the kid. “That’s not her name.”
“Dad calls her that.” Megumi simply responds, frowning back at Choso.
Before the latter could say anything else though, your voice rings through the house as you ask Choso who was at the door. Your figure comes into view soon after, wanting to see who's holding your housemate back from his much desired dinner.
“Miss Sunshine!” You hear the cheerful voice of Megumi which makes you run to the front door with an excited smile.
“Megs! What are you doing here? Everything okay? Where’s your dad?” You crouch down to meet the boy’s eyes, shooing Choso away who you hear grumble under his breath about "brats" and "stealing attention” as he walks away but you choose to ignore him. He's still probably salty about the incident that involves his precious little cousin, Yuuji, who only wanted to play with the other boy when he visited rather than pay attention to his ever-longing “Choso nii-san”.
“Dad said he has to go to work. Can I stay with you until he comes back?” The boy asks, hopeful and big, doe eyes staring at you almost pleadingly— not that he needs to anyway.
Megumi is a sweet boy, raised by his father right even though sometimes, Toji makes questionable decisions like leaving his son alone at night without as much as a heads up to another responsible adult to look after the boy— like you. Not that you’re saying Toji needs to tell you about his whereabouts or whatever, but you’ve been Megumi’s babysitter since you’ve befriended his father. Even though he seems pretty independent, you still can't help but worry about him. After all, he is still a young kid and could easily get into trouble by himself. It would worry you greatly if you were to find out that he was hurt or worse while his father is away.
“Of course, baby. Come on in. Did you have anything for dinner yet?” You usher the boy inside, leading him to the kitchen where the others are. They immediately stop talking once they spot Megumi with you, hiding behind your figure with an inconspicuous glare directed at all of them.
“MEGUMI!” Satoru is the first to break the silence by yelling the boy’s name in glee and jumping off his seat to welcome your little visitor. Said visitor hurries to shield himself more behind you, clutching at your shirt as if it would save him from the impending doom that is Satoru. Megumi, on multiple occasions, has shown his dislike for the older man.
“Don’t bombard spiky urchin over there.” Suguru mumbles uncaringly, more focused on the food he’s currently eating. The nickname he and the others have picked for Megumi makes you roll your eyes, and you don’t miss the slight whine from the little boy behind you. He loathes that nickname so much.
“Come eat with us, Megumi.” Kento waves for the latter to join him and the rest, getting off his chair to give it to the boy.
“I already did. Thanks though.” Megumi sends the blond man a tiny smile, seemingly the only person he’s okay being around with. Out of all the men within the vicinity, Kento seems to be the only one who acts completely normal with the boy, aside from Suguru who mostly doesn’t care but sometimes joins in on the teasing with Satoru. Sukuna, on the other hand, tries to terrorize the little man whenever he can but his lighthearted intimidation seems to never work because Megumi doesn’t really care enough to pay attention to him— or to any of your housemates aside from Kento occasionally.
“Where’s your father, boy?” Sukuna asks, briefly looking up from the rectangular plastic container full of sushi he's hogged from the rest.
“Work.” Megumi plainly responds, not even bothering to look at the older guy but you can clearly see the annoyance gleaming on the boy’s face.
Oh. This is going to be a long night.
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herrscherofinsanity · 2 months
Text
Web of Hearts
Spider!Jimin being as subtle as a neon sign.
Fluff
Yu Jimin (Karina x fem!reader)
Word count: 5.6k
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In the bustling city of Seoul, where towering skyscrapers touched the sky and the pulse of urban life echoed through every street, a new kind of hero emerged. Clad in a sleek red and black suit, Spiderwoman swung from building to building, keeping a watchful eye on the city she vowed to protect.
Yu Jimin, a seemingly ordinary woman by day, carried the weight of a secret identity. By night, she embraced her extraordinary abilities and became the guardian of Seoul. As Spiderwoman, she effortlessly swung through the cityscape, her agility and strength unmatched.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Jimin perched atop a high-rise building, scanning the city for any signs of trouble. Her enhanced senses picked up on a distant commotion, and with a graceful leap, she swung into action.
Down on the streets, chaos ensued as a group of villains wreaked havoc, terrorizing innocent civilians. Without hesitation, Spiderwoman descended upon the scene, her presence casting a shadow over the criminals.
"Looks like the party's over, gentlemen," she quipped, her voice laced with a confident edge.
The villains, startled by the sudden appearance of the city's masked guardian, prepared to face off against the formidable Spiderwoman. The confrontation unfolded in a series of acrobatic moves and swift strikes, showcasing Jimin's mastery of her newfound abilities.
As the last villain was apprehended, Spiderwoman turned to the gathered crowd, her mask concealing the determined glint in her eyes. "Fear not, citizens of Seoul. Spiderwoman is here to ensure your safety."
Word of the mysterious heroine spread across the city, capturing the imagination of its inhabitants. While Jimin navigated her daily life as an unassuming individual, she couldn't deny the thrill that came with her nightly escapades as Spiderwoman.
In a city where shadows concealed both villains and heroes, Jimin grappled with the responsibility that came with her extraordinary abilities. The balance between protecting the city and preserving her personal life became a delicate dance, and as the night sky witnessed her silent struggles, Seoul remained oblivious to the identity of its mysterious guardian, Spiderwoman.
____________________
It was move-in day at the college dorms, and the hallways buzzed with excitement and nervous energy. yn, lugging a heavy suitcase behind her, scanned the room numbers until she found hers: Room 302. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The room was small but cozy, furnished with two twin beds, desks cluttered with textbooks, and a large window overlooking the campus grounds. yn's eyes landed on her new roommate, who was unpacking a box of books with an infectious smile on her face.
Jimin looked up and flashed a warm grin at yn. "Hey there! You must be my new roommate. I'm Yu Jimin. It's nice to meet you!"
yn returned the smile, instantly feeling at ease in Jimin's presence. "Hi, Jimin. I'm yn. Nice to meet you too."
And with that simple introduction, the bond between Jimin and yn began to form, setting the stage for the adventures that lay ahead. What yn didn’t know was that her quirky and endearing roommate held a secret that would change both of their lives forever.
____________________
After their initial meeting, Jimin and yn quickly settled into their roles as roommates. Jimin's bubbly personality and penchant for nerdy jokes brought a lightness to their shared space, while yn's calm and grounded demeanor provided a sense of stability.
As days turned into weeks, yn couldn't help but notice a peculiar pattern. Jimin seemed to have an uncanny knack for getting injured. Whether it was tripping over her own feet or accidentally bumping into furniture, Jimin always seemed to have a new bruise or scrape to show for it.
At first, yn brushed it off as Jimin just being incredibly clumsy. She would tease Jimin gently, offering band-aids and ice packs whenever Jimin came back from another misadventure.
But as time went on, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Jimin's frequent injuries. She noticed the way Jimin would tense up whenever yn asked about how she got hurt, quickly deflecting the conversation with a laugh or a joke.
yn's curiosity grew, and she began to pay closer attention to Jimin's behavior. She noticed how Jimin would sometimes slip out of their dorm room in the middle of the night, only to return hours later looking exhausted and worn out.
Despite her suspicions, yn didn't confront Jimin about her weird midnight escapades. Instead, she quietly observed, but the more she observed Jimin, the more confused she felt.
What on earth could her dorky roommate be up to?
____________________
Amidst the bustling city streets, chaos reigned as a gang of masked criminals wreaked havoc, their nefarious intentions casting a shadow of fear over the unsuspecting civilians. Amidst the chaos, a lone figure swung gracefully through the air, her lithe form a blur of crimson and black against the night sky.
Spiderwoman, as she was known to the citizens of the city, moved with fluid precision, her keen senses alert to the danger that lurked around every corner. With effortless grace, she leaped from building to building, her web-slinging abilities propelling her forward with astonishing speed.
As she closed in on the scene of the crime, Spiderwoman's senses tingled with anticipation, her heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled excitement. With a deft flick of her wrist, she shot a web line towards a nearby lamppost, swinging around it with practiced ease before landing gracefully on the ground below.
With a swift and decisive movement, Spiderwoman sprang into action, her movements a blur of acrobatic prowess as she dispatched her foes with precision and finesse. Her spider-like agility and lightning-fast reflexes left the criminals reeling, their futile attempts to strike back thwarted at every turn.
As the last of the criminals lay defeated at her feet, Spiderwoman allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction before turning her attention back to her true objective. With a confident smirk, she shot a web line towards the nearest rooftop, launching herself into the air with a graceful leap.
Minutes later, Spiderwoman landed silently on the rooftop of the college dormitory she shared with yn, her heart racing with exhilaration from the night's events. With practiced stealth, she slipped through the window and into the darkness of her room, her secret identity safe for another day.
____________________
One evening, as yn was studying in the shared dorm room, she heard a loud crash coming from the living area. Startled, she rushed out to find Jimin sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle in pain.
"Jimin, are you okay?"
Jimin winced as she attempted to sit up, her face contorted in pain. "I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts like crazy."
yn hurried to Jimin's side, helping her to sit up and inspecting the injury. Sure enough, Jimin's ankle was swollen and bruised, a clear sign of a sprain.
yn tried to be as gentle as possible with her injured roommate, "let's get some ice on that ankle. I'll grab a cold pack from the freezer."
As yn tended to Jimin's injury, she couldn't help but notice how frequently her roommate seemed to get hurt. It was as if Jimin was a magnet for accidents, always finding herself in precarious situations that resulted in bumps, bruises, and sprains.
Despite her curiosity, yn didn't press Jimin for details about how she got hurt. Instead, she focused on providing comfort and support, knowing that her roommate needed her in moments like these.
As Jimin winced in pain, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jimin's injuries than met the eye. But for now, she pushed aside her suspicions and focused on helping her friend heal.
____________________
One afternoon, as yn returned to their dorm room after class, she absentmindedly pushed open the door without bothering to knock. To her surprise, she found Jimin standing shirtless in the middle of the room, a towel draped over her shoulders.
yn's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight of Jimin's bare torso, but her attention was quickly drawn to the large cut spanning across Jimin's back.
"Jimin, what the hell happened!? You're bleeding!" the younger girl shrieked.
Jimin jumped in surprise, hastily grabbing the towel to cover herself as she turned to face yn.
Jimin stammered, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. "Oh, uh, it's nothing. Just a little mishap while I was... uh, working out." Nailed it.
yn could see the discomfort in Jimin's expression as she hesitated to explain the true cause of her injury. Without another word, yn grabbed the first aid kit from their shared bathroom and motioned for Jimin to sit down on the bed.
"Let me take care of that for you. It looks pretty deep." Jimin felt herself freezing up at the soft look yn sent her way, she obediently walked towards her roommate.
As yn carefully cleaned and bandaged Jimin's wound, she couldn't help but notice the nervous energy radiating from her roommate. It was clear to yn that Jimin was hiding something, but she didn't press for answers, respecting Jimin's privacy.
As they sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken words, yn couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Jimin than met the eye. For now, she focused on helping her friend heal, unaware of the deeper feelings brewing beneath the surface.
As she finished wrapping up Jimin’s wound, yn couldn’t help but break the silence that enveloped them.
“You know…” yn began “you don’t have to tell me what actually happened, but I hate it when you get hurt. Please try to be more careful from now on, I can’t bare to see you in pain”. With those words yn got up to put away the first aid kit.
Jimin didn’t say anything, but she couldn’t deny that yn’s words had affected her in a way she couldn’t really describe. She couldn’t keep ignoring the butterflies she felt every time she locked eyes with yn.
____________________
Despite her best efforts to be subtle, Jimin's attempts at dropping hints about her developing feelings for yn were about as inconspicuous as a flashing neon sign. Whether it was lingering glances, awkward attempts at flirting, or fumbling over her words whenever yn was around, Jimin's attempts to express her affection were anything but discreet.
yn, however, wasn't oblivious to Jimin's antics. In fact, she found them rather endearing. She couldn't help but smile to herself whenever Jimin stumbled over her words or blushed furiously whenever their eyes met. yn appreciated Jimin's efforts, even if they weren't exactly subtle.
Despite her awareness of Jimin's feelings, yn decided to play along, enjoying the playful banter and the budding friendship between them. She didn't comment on Jimin's less-than-subtle approach, opting instead to let her roommate express herself in her own quirky way.
As they navigated the delicate dance of friendship and budding romance, yn couldn't help but feel a warmth blossom in her chest whenever she thought of Jimin. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more than friendship brewing between them, and yn was eager to see where their journey would take them.
____________________
("What do you think of superheroes?"
"Um, they're pretty cool, I guess. Why?"
"Oh, no reason. Just curious."
"Okay... Anyway, what's on your mind?"
"Oh, nothing important. Just, you know, hanging out with my favorite person."
"Smooth, Jimin."
"I try my best."
"Uh huh. Well, keep practicing."
"Ouch, right in the ego."
"Hey, you're the one who asked for honesty."
"True. Thanks for keeping me grounded, yn."
"Anytime, Jimin. Anytime.")
____________________
On a random afternoon as the two girls lounged on the couch, idly flipping through channels, they stumbled upon a news report about Spiderwoman. Jimin's heart skipped a beat as she watched, her secret identity suddenly thrust into the spotlight.
"Wow, Spiderwoman is so cool," yn commented, her eyes fixed on the screen. "She's pretty hot too..." she muttered more-so to herself, Jimin still heard her comment though.
Jimin tried to suppress the surge of excitement that bubbled up inside her at yn's words. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, her heart racing as she struggled to maintain her composure.
"Yeah, she's... uh, pretty cool," Jimin managed to mumble, her voice betraying her nerves.
As the report continued, Jimin couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen, her mind racing with a million thoughts. She stole a glance at yn out of the corner of her eye, her heart swelling with affection for the oblivious girl sitting beside her.
In that moment, Jimin realized just how much she cared about yn, and how badly she wished she could share her true identity with her. But the fear of rejection still held her back, casting a shadow over her burgeoning feelings.
As the news segment came to an end and the TV screen flickered to black, Jimin was left grappling with the turmoil of her emotions, uncertain of what the future held for her and yn.
____________________
("Are you made of copper and tellurium?"
"Uh, no? Why?"
"Because you're Cu-Te!"
"Oh, Jimin, that's... something."
"Yeah, I thought it was kind of nerdy but cute. Like me."
"Definitely cute. And modest too."
"Thanks. I'll take that as a win.")
____________________
“Hey Jimin? Do you think you can help me out with this subject?”
The question was innocent enough, nothing was supposed to happen between Jimin and yn, right?
Jimin and yn sat together in their cozy dorm room, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows across the room. They had been studying for hours, their textbooks forgotten as their conversation drifted to more personal topics.
As the evening wore on, their proximity seemed to amplify the crackling tension between them. Jimin's heart raced as she stole glances at yn, her features illuminated by the gentle light. yn's laughter rang out, filling the room with its melodic cadence, and Jimin found herself captivated by the way yn's eyes sparkled with amusement.
With each passing moment, the air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken desire. Jimin's gaze lingered on yn's lips, the urge to lean in almost overwhelming. She could feel the heat of yn's breath against her skin, a tangible reminder of their closeness.
yn's fingers brushed against Jimin's hand, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins. Their eyes met, a silent exchange of longing and yearning passing between them. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them suspended in time.
As Jimin and yn found themselves drawn closer together, the tension between them palpable, it seemed as if the world around them faded into the background. Their gazes locked, inches apart, their lips mere moments away from touching in a long-awaited kiss.
But just as they leaned in, on the precipice of that anticipated connection, Jimin's heightened senses kicked in. A familiar tingle crept up her spine, a warning sign that duty called. A new crime awaited Spiderwoman's intervention, pulling her away from the brink of intimacy with yn.
With a heavy heart, Jimin reluctantly pulled back, the disappointment evident in both their eyes. Yn's expression mirrored Jimin's own sense of longing, the momentary promise of closeness snatched away by the demands of Jimin's secret life as Spiderwoman.
Their interrupted moment hung in the air, charged with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. Though duty called Jimin away, the memory of their almost-kiss lingered, a tantalizing glimpse of what could have been, leaving both girls yearning for the day they could pick up where they left off.
--
Somehow the almost kiss made Jimin even more awkward than she already was. Jimin didn’t know how to behave around yn. Should she keep her distance? Should she seize the day and kiss the girl? One thing was for sure, she wanted her roommate badly.
Jimin's heart skipped a beat as yn emerged from the bathroom, clad only in a towel. She tried to focus on her textbook, but her eyes kept drifting back to her roommate's figure. yn seemed oblivious to Jimin's internal struggle as she nonchalantly rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear.
Jimin cleared her throat, attempting to regain her composure. "Uh, yn, do you need help finding something?"
yn turned to her, a playful grin on her lips. "No, I'm good, thanks. Just trying to decide what to wear for tonight." yn knew perfectly what kind of effect she had on Jimin and she planned to use it to her advantage.
Jimin nodded, unable to tear her gaze away. "Right, yeah, you look... um, nice."
yn giggled, seemingly unfazed by Jimin's flustered state. " In nothing but a towel? Wow. Thanks, Jimin. You're sweet."
As yn finally settled on an outfit and disappeared into her room, Jimin let out a shaky breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. Being roommates with yn was both a blessing and a curse, especially when moments like this left her feeling more than a little flustered.
____________________
("Are you a magician, yn?"
"No, why?"
"Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears."
"Smooth, Jimin."
"I try my best. So, do I get a round of applause for that one?"
"You definitely get points for creativity."
"Well, I'm glad you appreciate my efforts."
"I appreciate the entertainment, that's for sure."
"I'll take what I can get. Maybe next time I'll pull a rabbit out of a hat or something."
"Looking forward to it.")
____________________
As the night enveloped the city in its dark embrace, yn found herself walking alone, lost in her own thoughts. Unbeknownst to her, danger lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike. Suddenly, a group of masked assailants emerged from the darkness, their intentions menacing and clear.
yn's heart pounded in her chest as fear gripped her, her instincts urging her to flee, but before she could react, a figure swooped down from above, a blur of red and black, swiftly dispatching yn's would-be attackers with a flurry of punches and kicks.
In the chaos of the moment, yn barely registered what was happening, her mind consumed by a whirlwind of confusion and fear. But as the dust settled and her assailants lay defeated, she found herself face to face with her savior, the enigmatic figure who had appeared out of nowhere to rescue her.
Spiderwoman stood before her, her mask concealing her identity but her presence radiating strength and reassurance. yn's eyes widened in astonishment, a mix of awe and gratitude washing over her as she realized the magnitude of what had just occurred.
"Spiderwoman...” yn began, her voice barely above a whisper “You saved me."
"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Spiderwoman replied in an incredibly gentle tone. yn couldn’t shake off the fact that her gentleness felt familiar. Maybe it was a superhero thing.
yn shook her head, still reeling from the adrenaline rush of the encounter. Spiderwoman's concern was palpable, her eyes searching yn's face for any signs of injury or distress.
"I-I'm okay, thanks to you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up." The girl was clearly shaken, but she still tried to voice how grateful she was.
"Just doing my job. Stay safe out here, alright? And remember, if you ever need help, I'll be watching over you."
With that, Spiderwoman vanished into the night, leaving yn standing alone in the aftermath of the encounter. Though shaken by the ordeal, a newfound sense of reassurance settled over her, knowing that she had a guardian angel watching over her, even in the darkest of times.
--
As yn stepped back into the familiar surroundings of their dorm room, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter, she found Jimin sitting on her bed, a book in hand. Jimin looked up as yn entered, her eyes immediately drawn to the dreamy expression on her roommate's face.
"Hey, everything okay?" Perfect execution, Jimin!
yn, still caught in a daydream, replied to the best of her ability, "Oh, Jimin, you won't believe what just happened. I met Spiderwoman!"
Jimin's eyes widened in excitement, a grin spreading across her face at yn's words. She set her book aside, leaning forward eagerly as yn recounted the thrilling encounter with the mysterious superhero.
"No way! What was it like? Did she say anything to you?" You really are the perfect actress, Yu Jimin!
yn launched into a vivid retelling of the encounter, her words animated with the lingering rush of adrenaline and awe. She described Spiderwoman's swift intervention, her unwavering bravery in the face of danger, and the sense of reassurance she had instilled in yn with her presence.
"It was incredible, Jimin. I've never felt so safe and protected in my life." yn let out a dreamy sigh.
Jimin listened intently, her eyes shining with excitement as she hung on yn's every word. She couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at yn's reaction to meeting her alter ego, knowing that she had played a part in protecting and wooing her roommate.
"That's amazing, yn. I'm so glad you're okay. And hey, if you ever want to meet her again, just let me know. I might be able to arrange something." Smooth, Jimin! She’s finally yours!
yn smiled at Jimin's offer, grateful for her roommate's unwavering support and excitement. In that moment, as they shared the thrill of yn's encounter with Spiderwoman, their bond grew stronger than ever, united by a shared sense of wonder and admiration for the extraordinary hero in their midst.
However, yn didn’t know that this was only the first of many encounters she would share with Spiderwoman.
____________________
As yn made her way home through the quiet streets, the late hour casting elongated shadows across the pavement, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. She was lost in her thoughts, unaware of the vigilant figure watching over her from the rooftops above.
Suddenly, a familiar figure descended gracefully from the darkness, landing before yn with a quiet rustle of fabric. yn looked up in surprise, her eyes widening as she recognized the unmistakable silhouette of Spiderwoman.
"Spiderwoman! What a pleasant surprise." yn let out, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been dreaming about this very moment.
"Hey there, yn. Just out for a stroll?" Spiderwoman said as casually as she could.
Wait… yn?
yn froze, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of her own name slipping past Spiderwoman's lips. She turned to her companion, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
yn nodded, feeling bewildered, returning Spiderwoman's smile as she fell into step beside her mysterious companion. They walked together in companionable silence for a while, the only sound the soft shuffle of their footsteps against the pavement. However, yn couldn’t brush off her surprise.
Why does she know my name?
Eventually, yn couldn't resist the urge to strike up a conversation, her curiosity piqued by the enigmatic figure at her side.
"So, Spiderwoman” yn said in an overly casual tone, “anything exciting happen tonight?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Just keeping an eye on the city." Spiderwoman said, trying her best to sound cool.
yn nodded, content to enjoy the peaceful camaraderie of their impromptu encounter. Still, she made sure to keep a close eye on her companion. Maybe she’ll let her guard down.
"So, yn..." Spiderwoman made a mistake. Again.
I got you now.
“Can I ask you a question, Spidey?”
Jimin is embarrassed by how fast her heart started beating after hearing yn refer to her by a nickname. “Sure, what’s up?”
“How did you know my name was yn? I never told you”.
Spiderwoman's mask hid the flicker of panic that flashed across her features at yn's question. She scrambled for a plausible explanation, her mind racing to come up with a convincing response.
"Um, well, you know, I, uh... I just happened to overhear it somewhere. Must have slipped out accidentally."
yn studied Spiderwoman's masked visage intently, a lingering sense of suspicion nagging at the back of her mind. However, she chose to let the matter drop for now, unwilling to push her mysterious companion any further. She is sure she’ll get her chance sooner rather than later.
"Ah, got it. Well, thanks for the company, Spiderwoman. It's always nice to have someone to walk with." She smiled in a way that gave Jimin a heart attack for a million different reasons.
"Anytime, yn. Take care on your way home." Nailed it.
With a final wave, Spiderwoman melted back into the shadows, leaving yn to ponder the intriguing encounter as she continued on her journey homeward. Despite the unanswered questions lingering in her mind, she couldn't deny the sense of comfort and reassurance that Spiderwoman's presence had brought her on this dark and lonely night.
--
yn stepped through the door of the dormitory, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Spiderwoman. As she entered the familiar surroundings of their shared living space, she was greeted by the sight of Jimin sitting on the couch, a playful glint in her eye.
"Hey there, yn! How was your walk?" Jimin said cheerfully.
yn's lips quirked into a knowing smile as she regarded her roommate, her suspicions about Spiderwoman's true identity suddenly crystallizing into certainty. She decided to play along for now, relishing the opportunity to keep Jimin's secret while she plotted her next move.
"Oh, you know, nothing out of the ordinary. Although I did run into someone interesting on the way back." A slight smirk playing at her lips.
Jimin's eyes widened slightly at yn's cryptic remark, a hint of apprehension flickering across her features before she quickly masked it with an easy grin.
"Oh yeah? Who'd you meet?"
yn leaned against the doorframe, her expression enigmatic as she met Jimin's gaze head-on. Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Spidey.
"Let's just say she's someone who knows how to keep the city safe, even late at night."
Jimin's breath caught in her throat, a surge of panic coursing through her veins at yn's words. She struggled to maintain her composure, her mind racing to concoct a plausible explanation for her alter ego's unexpected appearance in their conversation.
"Ha, lucky you, running into interesting people all the time!” Jimin let out an awkward laugh. “You'll have to introduce me sometime."
yn's smirk widened into a knowing grin as she watched Jimin squirm under the weight of her unspoken revelation. She made a mental note to bide her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to confront Jimin head on.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough." With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air, yn sauntered off to her room, leaving Jimin to grapple with the unsettling realization that her carefully guarded secret might not be safe for much longer.
Maybe you’re not the perfect actress, Yu Jimin.
____________________
Okay, time to do something stupid!
yn stood defiantly in the dimly lit alley, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the inevitable. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with her roommate-turned-superhero. But she couldn't resist the thrill of the chase, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she knowingly put herself in harm's way.
As she glanced nervously around the shadowy confines of the alley, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Seconds later, Spiderwoman materialized out of the darkness, her lithe figure cutting a striking silhouette against the night sky.
"yn, what are you doing here? It's not safe!" Spiderwoman exclaimed, her voice dripping with concern.
yn met Spiderwoman's concerned gaze with a defiant glint in her eye, her resolve unyielding as she faced the repercussions of her reckless actions head-on.
"I knew you'd come. I needed to prove a point."
Spiderwoman's brow furrowed in frustration, her voice tinged with exasperation as she chided yn for her foolhardy behavior.
"You can't go around doing stuff like this, yn! You're putting yourself in unnecessary danger. What if something had happened to you?" Spiderwoman said, her frustration skyrocketing. “What if I wasn’t her to protect you, huh? You’re acting like a toddler”.
yn bristled at Spiderwoman's stern tone, her own temper flaring as she pushed back against the other girl's unwavering concern.
"Yu Jimin, enough! Stop treating me like a child. I know exactly what I’m doing."
What?
The words hung heavy in the air between them, a palpable tension crackling with the weight of unspoken truths. In that fleeting moment, Spiderwoman's mask of stoicism slipped, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath the facade.
Spiderwoman's eyes widened in shock at the sound of her real name on yn's lips, her heart skipping a beat as she grappled with the sudden shift in dynamics between them. In that brief, poignant moment, the boundaries that had once defined their relationship blurred, leaving behind a lingering sense of uncertainty and unspoken desires.
Jimin's heart pounded erratically in her chest as she watched yn's expression soften, her eyes brimming with unspoken affection. She couldn't believe she had let slip her secret identity, couldn't fathom the repercussions of her reckless actions. But as yn's gaze met hers with unwavering warmth, Jimin felt a flicker of hope ignite within her, a glimmer of possibility in the midst of uncertainty.
"How... How did you find out?" Jimin’s voice barely above a whisper.
yn's smile was gentle, her voice infused with a quiet reassurance as she met Jimin's gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I noticed the little things, the way you always seem to disappear whenever trouble arises, the injuries that miraculously heal overnight. And then there was that slip-up with my name."
Jimin's shoulders sagged with relief at yn's honest confession, her heart swelling with gratitude for the other girl's unwavering acceptance.
"I'm sorry, yn. I never meant to keep this from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you." Jimin felt like she could cry, she was feeling too much at the moment. Oh brother, I need to lie down.
yn reached out to gently cup Jimin's cheek, her touch tender and reassuring as she offered the other girl a small, understanding smile.
"It's okay, Jimin. I understand. But from now on, let's promise to be honest with each other, no matter what." yn’s smile gave Jimin hope. For the first time, Jimin felt like everything was going to be okay.
Jimin nodded fervently, her heart overflowing with gratitude for yn's unwavering support. As the weight of secrecy lifted from her shoulders, Jimin felt a renewed sense of longing blossom within her, a newfound courage to embrace the vulnerabilities that lay bare between them.
"Thank you, yn. How can I make it up to you?"
yn's smile widened into a mischievous grin as she reached out to delicately trace the contours of Jimin's mask, her touch sending shivers down the other girl's spine.
"I think I have an idea." yn lowered her voice, a smirk on her lips.
With a deft motion, yn carefully pulled away Jimin's mask, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath the facade. In that moment of unspoken intimacy, Jimin felt the walls that had once separated them crumble away, leaving behind an undeniable connection that transcended the boundaries of secrecy and fear.
As their lips finally met in a long-awaited kiss, the world around them faded into obscurity, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotion that pulsed between them. In that fleeting moment of shared vulnerability, Jimin and yn found solace in each other's arms, daring to believe that love might just conquer all.
____________________
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Jimin and yn had decided to spend the day together at their shared dorm room. As they lounged on the couch, Jimin scrolled through her phone while yn leaned against her, idly playing with Jimin's hair.
Suddenly, a breaking news alert flashed across the screen, announcing Spiderwoman's latest heroic feat. yn glanced up, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, as she nudged Jimin playfully. "Looks like your alter ego is making headlines again."
Jimin chuckled, leaning into yn's touch as she replied, "Yeah, she's always stealing the spotlight."
yn grinned, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Jimin's scalp as she teased, "I bet she's just trying to impress her girlfriend."
Jimin's cheeks flushed pink at the playful jab, but she couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. Wrapping an arm around yn, she pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Well, she's lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend." Jimin whispered against her girlfriend’s temple. Tease me all you want, at the end of the day you still agreed to be mine.
yn grinned, leaning into Jimin's embrace as she retorted, "Flattery will get you everywhere, Spidey."
The two of them dissolved into laughter, the playful banter a comforting reminder of the easy chemistry they shared. As they snuggled together on the couch, Jimin and yn savored the simple joy of being together, grateful for the love and laughter that filled their lives.
With Jimin's arm wrapped around her and the warmth of their shared affection enveloping them, yn couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. And as they basked in each other's company, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm.
____________________
("Are you a time traveler, yn?"
"No, why?"
"Because every time I look at you, I feel like I'm going back in time. To the moment I fell in love with you."
"Jimin..."
"Gotcha."
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"But you love me anyway, right?"
"Always.")
____________________
A/N: Here we go, spider Jimin! I had this sitting on my drafts for the longest time, but here it is. Thank you so much for reading!
I'm working on some requests and I might add a Valentine's Day special as well. It all depends on my schedule, I'm getting a new one tomorrow so we shall see how it goes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, if you want to request something, feel free to let me know.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Sharks
Meadema x Child!Reader
Summary: Viv comes to your house and you tell her about sharks
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Viv's been at your house more often now.
It's a little strange.
Viv never used to come to the house by herself.
Always with your aunties and the other Arsenal girls.
Never alone.
But now, she's always at the house by herself. She comes home with Mummy from training and they sometimes have sleepovers in Mummy's Big Bed. Sometimes, she cooks you breakfast in the morning or helps pick you up from nursery.
It's weird.
The only person that's been around this much is Daan but she's gone now. It's not that Viv's taking her place but it's just a little weird to have someone around all the time again.
"Mummy!" You call," Need help, please!"
You're trying to get your favourite crayon set out but it's trapped by all the clutter in your toy box. You tug again but can't quite seem to get it.
"Mummy!"
"Hey, liefje." It's Viv instead of Mummy and you stop to look at her.
"Where's Mummy?"
"Beth's on a phone call. Can I help?"
You think for a moment before nodding. "My crayons," You say," Can't-Can't get them."
Viv peers into your toy box, seeing the way that your crayon pack is at the very bottom. Beth warned her about this, about the fact that you had a habit of drawing on everything you could (even the walls) so your crayons had been placed at the very bottom, buried under everything so you couldn't get at them as easily.
"Here, liefje," She says, pulling them out. She hands them to you.
"Thank you, Viv," You reply. You dump them onto the coffee table with your colouring books.
You've got more than one so you look back at Viv, who doesn't quite seem to know what to do with herself now that she's left completely alone with you with no Beth to act as a buffer.
You scamper back to her side, sliding your hand against hers. "Colour with me?" You don't wait for an answer, pulling her with you to sit cross-legged at the coffee table.
You shove a colouring book at her before flicking through your other one to decide which one you want to do. It takes a little while to choose, looking between the shark and the jellyfish.
You end up choosing the shark.
"D'you know that sharks have a lot of teeth?" You ask Viv as you colour," They lose 'em a lot so they need to have a lot more to make up for it."
"Wow," Viv says as she colours too, although she's mostly just watching you," You're very smart. Do you know any more shark facts?"
"Uh-huh. Baby sharks are born with all their teeth," You change your grey crayon to silver," Mummy says it's good I wasn't born with teeth because I used to try to bite things."
"Really?" Viv sounds amused.
"Yeah but I don't anymore."
You grab green to colour in some kelp. "Baby sharks are called pups," You continue," And baby sharks don't stay with their mothers. That's sad. I want to stay with Mummy forever."
"You're very smart," Viv says again.
"Sharks are my favourite animals!" You reply before shooting to your feet. You rummage through your toy chest before returning with arms full of stuffed sharks.
You lay them all out on the table, pushing off all your crayons. You sit extremely close to Viv, closer to her than ever before.
"This is a hammerhead," You say, holding one of your toys," 'Cause their head looks like a hammer. And this is tiger shark 'cause it's got tiger stripes. And this is a whale shark. It's like a whale but it's really a shark."
"Wow."
Viv's pretty happy to sit with you and listen to your explanation of sharks. In all honesty, it's pretty impressive how much you know and you're clearly so happy to tell her so she's content to just listen.
Which is how Beth finds you both later, when she's finished her phone call.
You're practically in Viv's lap, excitedly explaining the new shark added to your collection.
"Hey, y/n," Beth says and you immediately stop talking.
"Mummy!"
You hurry to her side and hug her tight.
"Hey," She says again, a hand running over your head," Did you tell Viv all about your toys?"
"My sharks!" You nod and let Mummy pick you up, balancing you on her hip.
"Your sharks," She laughs, bouncing you slightly," Come on, Viv. Didn't you say that you knew some nice restaurant near here? Let's order dinner."
●~●~●~●~
Slowly but surely, Viv's things begin to appear in the house.
It starts small, some of her clothes and a phone charger. Next it's some of her books and then her trophies and medals. It happens so gradually that you don't even realise it happens until suddenly Viv's taking care of you on her own and never going back to her own house.
"Mummy," You say one evening as you lay on Mummy's chest while Viv does the dishes," Does Viv have a house?"
You bounce a bit from the force of Mummy's laughs. "What kind of question is that?"
You look at her. "Viv's always at our house. Does that mean she's not got a house?"
"Where have you gotten that idea?"
"You said that Daan didn't have a house anymore when she came to live with us."
Mummy sits up and you know this is going to be one of her serious talks.
"Well...Do you remember when I told you about dating?"
"When two people want to be romantic so they hang out and do stuff together."
"Yeah, that's right. Well, after people date for a bit, they move in together."
You think about that for a moment, trying to translate that into something you understand. Sharks don't do that.
"Er...Why?"
"So they can spend more time together."
Sharks don't move in with each other. Sharks don't date. It must be a human thing.
Mummy takes your silence as an invitation to continue. "And Mummy and Viv are dating so she's moving in with us."
You think about that too, finally putting together that Mummy and Daan must have dated as well but don't anymore because Mummy and Viv date now.
"Viv...lives with us?"
"She does," Mummy says," Is that okay?"
"Viv gave me a new shark," You say to Mummy instead," It's a basking shark. It's cool. Viv's cool. She can stay."
Mummy releases a long breath and affectionately rubs your cheek. "I'm glad. I like Viv a lot."
"I'm glad too," Viv says as she approaches," Otherwise I'd have to give this to some other little girl."
You don't know where she's gotten this new shark but you're very happy.
Mummy shrieks though. "Viv! That's disgusting!"
"Goblin shark!" You look between Mummy and Viv. "They're my favourite!"
It's horrifically ugly and you love it so much.
"Thank you, Viv!" You say, giving her a hug as you take it, hurrying over to what Mummy calls your 'shark shrine' to introduce your new friend to all of your old ones.
"It's so ugly, Viv," Beth complains as they both watch you play," It's going to give me nightmares."
Viv chuckles. "Just wait until you google what the real thing looks like."
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whimsyfinny · 2 months
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore
Chapter Word Count: 668
—-MDNI—-
A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.
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I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid
-Prologue-
Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.
”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.
”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.
“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”
Dean scoffed.
“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.
“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”
He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”
Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.
“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.
“Five minutes ago.”
“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.
“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”
“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.
“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”
Dean and Sam shared a glance.
“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.
“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.
“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.
“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”
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Up Next
Chapter 1
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neosimi · 1 year
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🎼 4t2 Simmify Music Nook 2 🎹
happy thursday! here is myshunosun’s simmify music nook 2. ♡
@platinumaspiration mentioned how she'd like it in her game, so i got right on it! i ended up resizing the book clutter just a smidge, in order to fit better on the shelf. there is some clipping going on w the piano. i lowered the keys in milkshape a bit to make it less apparent, but ah well. oh! and i’m actually quite proud of the lamp since it has an unlit/lit state! hooray! anyway, that should be all. as always, please lmk if there’s any issues, enjoy!~  ʕっ˘ڡ˘ςʔ
book clutter 1: 156 polys | deco/sculpture | $50
book clutter 2: 324 polys | deco/sculpture | $50
concrete bookshelf: 478 polys | surfaces/shelves | $800
cute succulent: 566 polys | deco/plants | $45
floor lamp: 1196 polys | lighting/floor | $80
framed poster: 46 polys | deco/wall hanging | $75
potted palm: 650 polys | deco/plants | $150
upright piano: 821 polys | hobbies/creative | $1000
part one here. files are compressed. collection file included.
UPDATE 3/18/23: fixed piano mesh GUIDs as to not conflict w the maxis piano. please redownload and allow the piano mesh file to override.  
download: [sfs] | [box] ♪♫♡ 
credits: @myshunosun​. 
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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tis the season for mistletoasters
alternatively: this year she is unhinged with the decorations
in which they invite a select few of their friends over for the holidays and a particular holiday decoration catches them off guard
(series masterlist)
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the door flies open, revealing the smaller girl with her friends standing in the hallway with boxes in their hands and confusion riddling their faces.
"couldn't you have just opened the door like a normal person? don't you have pets in your home?" george frowns, slowly following her inside the small apartment.
"what else do we expect from her?" max follows up.
"wait!" she screeches, arms held out to avoid them walking in any further than the entryway. she points down at their feet. "shoes off!"
"yes," sebastian mutters, already slipping off his shoes right by the door with a hand on the wall to balance himself. "on it."
"wow, very particular," lando teases, though he also slips off his shoes and kicks in towards the wall to keep it neat. he shoves the box into her hands and then pushes past her as he navigates into her apartment. "where is your child? i want to see kidnapper."
"oi, no way!" max screams, pushing past her to chase after lando. "i'm kidnapper's uncle! i suggested she adopt the cat!"
"no, this is the one cat that actually likes me! you've got cats of your own," lando scolds, shoving max to the side as they enter the living room. "i called dibs."
"doesn't matter what you guys say - i'm kidnapper's favourite." alex also pushes past her, chasing after his friends to try and race for the cat's attention. "he will ditch you no matter what."
"two of them are predicted to be future world champions. one of them's won three," she smiles, locking her jaw as she turns around. "thank you for coming over, by the way! happy holidays."
"well, i guess i'm interested if logan can really cook," george shrugs, finally stepping forward to pull her in for a quick hug. he presses his cheeks against hers. "when are you flying off to melbourne?"
she shrugs, frowning. "i haven't booked us a flight yet."
"you're travelling there by foot then?" sebastian raises an eyebrow to tease her with her last-minute planning. "tickets will be expensive if you don't get them now."
"max is lending them his private jet," mick speaks up, finally closing the door behind him. "don't be naughty in there - he won't ever let you use it again if you are!"
"i'm a very tame individual, thank you," she scoffs, leading them into the apartment. "logan's still making dinner, but the cookies finished baking right before you guys decided to all arrive together earlier than expected. i'll be right back out with the cookies."
"you baked cookies?" mick grins, following behind her excitedly. "chocolate chip cookies?"
"yeah, and butterscotch."
"butterscotch?" lando screams from his spot in the living room next to the couch. he's hunched over slightly, eyes darting all over the floor to find her beloved cat. "are those for me?"
"yes! i'll be right back out with them!" she steps into the kitchen, beaming when she finds logan chopping some meat on the counter. "hey, you. they're all here."
"i heard," logan grins, turning to look at her. "how come they didn't ring the intercom? i could have buzzed them up."
she hums, waltzing over to stand behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "i caught them at the lobby arguing because they forgot to assign somebody to buy alcohol."
"aw, what? no alcohol?" logan frowns, turning slightly to look at her. "did you get the soy sauce from the store?"
"i did! it's all over there," she beams, pointing to the clutter on the other end of the counter. "also, we still have that stash of soju in my room - that should do while i order some drinks to arrive, right?"
"you and soju?" logan raises an eyebrow. "good luck."
"it's meant to be drank like juice if it tastes like juice!" she argues, taking a step away from him. "do you need help preparing dinner?"
"no, i think-"
"sorry to interrupt. hi, logan." their heads turn to the entrance of the kitchen, lando innocently popping his head past the wall to give them a sheepish smile. "where is kidnapper? we've looked everywhere for him in the living room."
"my room, i think," logan grins.
"cool! which one is your room?"
"no!" she screeches, chasing after lando at the door. "he is in the room because you guys always stress him out! leave my baby alone, please."
"no, we came for him!" max shouts from the living room. "which door is your room, logan? tell me or i'll crash into you in bahrain next year and you can't race!"
"i'll literally snap you in half if you do that!" she screeches, disappearing from logan's sight to run into the living room.
"you're like barely 165cm tall!"
"i will find a way!"
"where's the fucking cat, (y/n)?" lando screeches. "which is logan's room where the beautiful cat sits in?"
"he's not even in logan's room," george scoffs, rolling his eyes. he walks past the bickering trio and walks towards the other end of the apartment. "he's in the balcony right there."
"oh," alex grins, walking calmly past them to slide the door open. "hello!"
"wait," mick says. logan walks out of the kitchen, wiping his wet hands on his pants as he comes in to greet everyone. mick slowly lifts his head at the object - objects - hanging from the ceiling in the corner above their decorated christmas tree. "what is that?"
"that's nothing," she answers immediately, trying to brush off the question.
"no, what is that?" sebastian voices out, following mick's stare at the corner of the room with furrowed eyebrows. "is that a..."
alex walks in, kidnapper nuzzled into his chest as he follows their gaze. "are those toasters plugged into your ceiling?"
logan puts his hands on his hips, looking up at the questionable decoration that she decided to put up for a change. growing up, she used to decorate the house for christmas with appropriate decorations and bright colours that would get people into the mood.
however, she vowed this year to be a bit more lax with the decorations since they're not spending it in the uk. there's a mysterious pair of plugs on their ceiling, and she was scrolling on twitter when the idea hit her in the middle of the night about a week ago.
and logan knows better than to try and tell her off.
"and you let this happen?" sebastian says, slightly disappointed as he turns to the williams driver. "why would you let this happen?"
"hey, this is technically her apartment," logan shrugs, yet his face is flushed from the memory of him helping her plug it in at 3 in the morning just to see her smile and giggle. "she still makes the rules."
"i think they've got a word for people like you," lando whispers, dropping his gaze to ponder if he should insult the younger man. "in america, i think they refer to people like you as 'down bad'."
a pillow heads straight for the back of lando's head, the force that it hits him causes him to stumble a couple steps forward. "leave logan alone! no way you're coming into my apartment and openly hate on my boyfriend!"
"there's just no way he thought plugging toasters off the ceiling is a good idea," lando cries, arms flying up to bring attention to the absurdity of the situation. "explain yourself; why you thought this was a good decoration for the holidays."
"mistletoasters," she scowls, hands on her hips as her lips carve into a scowl. "i couldn't find mistletoe in the store, and i was scrolling on twitter the other night and saw that. it's funny!"
"it's a hazard," sebastian points out. "what if it falls on either of you?"
"that's a stupid way to go out," mick mutters, an eyebrow still raised as his stare lingers on the pair of toasters. "maybe you should take it down before it causes an accident."
she sighs. "i can't reach it."
"wait," max speaks out, stepping forward with his hands up. he has his phone in his hand. "let me take a picture."
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kidy/n
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, landonorris and 60,726 others
kidy/n mistle touch under the tree or something like that idk
view all 12,489 comments…
user1 that caption for a photo featuring logan is kinda
user2 that wasnt very just friends of u y/n
user3 any bets when they will realise theyre both hopelessly in love with one another?
user4 any bets when they will tell us they’ve been dating for YEARS?
user5 i’d hate to be either of their partners if they’re like this
user6 very gbf situation 💀
oscarpiastri you guys r so right, theyre so red flag coded
lilyzneimer oscar pls apologise
sabrinacarpenter ❤️
kidy/n NO SHOT do u WANNA GET MARRIED TO ME
logansargeant 👁️
landonorris the mistletoaster is so ???
charles_leclerc the what?
sebastianvettel worst holiday decoration i’ve ever seen
kidy/n no hating pls, im just trying to bring about the xmas spirit
maxverstappen1 took the fun out of christmas and for what
williamsracing did logan choose that decoration?
kidy/n yeah :/
logansargeant NO I DIDNT?
andrettiracing kiss me under the mistletoe 👉🏼👈🏼
logansargeant me? 🤪
andrettiracing sure!
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taglist: @myxticmoon
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aroacewxs · 4 months
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rui facts that are common knowledge atp but i just feel like repeating
hates vegetables because of their texture, and dislikes anything that has similar texture to certain vegetables. example: he hates watermelon because apparently to him the texture is just like a cucumber's? he's not very fond of many fruits either, albeit he dislikes them less than vegetables
only eats at places he's a regular at and becomes distressed when the menu changes. he picks off all vegetables from his food and sometimes emu helps him and eats anything he doesn't like
preferred rivers and lakes over pools as a kid. he would search for shiny rocks and the like in these rivers and lakes and show nene his discoveries
he owned many encyclopedias as a kid. one of them being one about poisonous plants. it had a bright red cover that scared nene LMAO but he read it over and over so now he can recognize which plants are poisonous or not
favourite animal is the platypus because he finds the fact that they are egg-laying mammals interesting
owns three monitors. has a tablet (owned this tablet since he was a kid) and a phone
horrible at packing! he's always thinking about worst case scenarios and possible hypotheticals that could occur during his travels, causing him to overpack and not use half of the things he brings. he mentions that this was the case when he went to america with wxs, and he struggled with the same problem when he was trying to pack for his kyoto trip in pandemonium
his favourite show he performed with wxs was the little mermaid. the show that made him feel the most nervous was a pianist named torpe, and the show that left the strongest impression on him was the one tsukasa performed with the others to convince him to join wxs again
dislikes cleaning because he finds it pointless when his room just becomes cluttered again sooner or later
worst sleep schedule known to man. has been scolded by wxs for coming to rehearsal with horrible eye bags
he people watches a lot. very observant of his environment and uses anything that catches his attention as inspiration for shows and other stories. this can be seen in island panic, where he makes up an entire possible conversation between three monkeys he was observing and in the area convo where he views students fighting to buy bread at the tuck shop as a metaphor for human nature and survival
his role model and inspiration is a director named tom gray! he watched interviews of him and read his books over and over
enjoyer of sci-fi
eats his taiyaki by first splitting it in half to avoid burning his mouth with the hot bean paste. interestingly enough, it is said in japan that the first bite you take in taiyaki determines your personality. rui breaks his taiyaki first before eating, making him a "person of action."
he deepened his interest for shows as a kid by imagining how he would adapt his favourite books into stage productions
there's a specific stool in his room that has remained since his childhood. also an orange box of toys(?) It seems
on the other hand, several aspects of his childhood room have changed: his lampshades are in the shapes of flowers now, his couch is patched up in blue, and he has multiple streamers and balloons. the balloons have little faces on them btw. he also installed a clock. the step ladder near his bookshelf is gone too from what i can see
ok that's all i can think of from the top of my head, hopefully none of these are incorrect,, i'll be very sad if something is wrong. if you know any fun rui facts that aren't listed above PLEASE enlighten me
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quick enrichment collage. dw i didnt chop up my boyds bears address book thats just the box it came in
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[ID: a colorful and cluttered collage page made up of stickers and cut-outs of various childish things, including clowns, various animals, and toys.]
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breelandwalker · 1 year
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Witchcraft Exercise - Spring Cleaning
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There’s a marked tradition of cleaning and airing out the house in the springtime when the weather warms. As you’re dusting and tidying and getting rid of winter stagnation, take some time to do the same with your craft.
Clean and organize your workspace. If you have an altar space or a shelf where you keep bottles and jars and the like, remove everything from the surface and give it a good dusting. Take the opportunity to rearrange things or swap out pieces if it suits you. If you have ritual tools that don’t often get cleaned, check them for signs or rust or wear and give them a bit of love. Repair things that need fixing, if you can. If you have an iron cauldron that you use for fire magic, get a wire brush or some steel wool and gently remove any burnt residue left inside.
Sort through your supplies. If you have lots of candles and crystals and small items laying about, consider getting some small totes or craft organizers to keep things tidy. Divided storage boxes for beads or scrapbooking supplies are great for small items, and shoebox-sized caddies are perfect for taper, chime, and votive candles. Organizing things will make your space easier to navigate and also gives you a proper idea of what you have on hand. Which might help you resist impulse purchases the next time you’re out shopping for witchcraft supplies. While you’re tidying, be sure to discard any rubbish, candle stubs, wax blobs, herb scraps, bits of string, incense bases, and so forth that might be cluttering up the place. 
Discard things that are too old or worn to be useful. Dried plants and seasonings can usually be kept for 1-3 years if they remain in sealed containers. If they have no scent anymore or smell musty or mildewy, discard them and sanitize the container. If you’re using supermarket spices, you can use the expiration date on the container as a guide. Powdered material will likely last longer than whole herbs or cut-and-sifted material. One helpful tip is to put a purchase date on packets or bags of herbs when you buy them, or to put a little date sticker on your jars of herbs when you refill them. (Anyone who’s worked in food service will probably be familiar with the concept of container dating or day-dotting.)
If you make oils or tinctures or suchlike in your practice, check on these as well. Make sure nothing has gone off or lost its’ potency. Day-dotting your potion containers will help with this as well. A simple sticker with the name of the brew and the date it was bottled will help you keep track of your supplies and know when something needs to be tossed and replaced. (You can also print labels with the ingredients and purpose of the brew if you’re feeling super organized.)
Reorganize your books and resources. Review what's there and see if there are any materials that need to be weeded out, donated, or discarded. Remember that as you grow and progress, some things will become obsolete or may show themselves to be unhelpful or inaccurate. It's okay to remove things from your resource library that no longer serve you if you want to make some space on the shelves.
You can also cleanse your workspace and/or components while you’re tidying if you wish. It doesn’t have to be a full clean-slate-everything-must-go cleansing, but it can be helpful to just clear out stagnation or bring in some freshness and vitality.
Happy Witching! 🧼
Want more witchcraft exercises? Check out the masterpost here and visit my shop for spell kits, books, magical powders, and more!
(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my monthly show Hex Positive on your favorite podcast app, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)
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