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@mddlbro
mimir. 31. she/her. semi-hiatus. NO MINORS / MATURE THEMES PRESENT
Moving… Eventually. I'll still be around for now, but this blog is going on a permanent semi-hiatus until work calms down and the big move is complete !!
characters : NARUTO: Deidara; HYPMIC: Dice Arisugawa, Jiro Yamada
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"It's totally not a test, sheesh!" Ramuda pouts, his plan of teasing Dice completely foiled (lol). It's not like he's quizzing Dice or anything, just what they were last talking about! Shouldn't Dice remember? Or is he like, waaaay too sleepy?
Hmm, maybe Ramuda will let up this time. But just this once!
"It's like a sleepover, right? So of course I gotta ask you a bunch of questions!" If Dice is staying over, then this is obviously a sleepover! And Ramuda wants to do sleepover things, even if Dice is sleepy!
He reclines on his comfy chair, swinging his legs as he watches Dice sprawled across the couch with clear amusement.
Dice lets out a raspy chuckle, somewhere between exasperation and fondness, dragging a hand down his face like he could physically wipe the sleep off himself. "Shit, it's too late for this, man," he mutters under his breath, voice gravelly and low, like it's been dipped in smoke and drawn out through a yawn. His fingers twitch toward his coat on the floor—there might be a cigarette stashed in the pocket—but his body's too heavy to move.
His mind boggles again, all foggy and drifting, and he wants nothing more than to just shut his eyes, melt into the couch and finally clock out of this long-ass night. But nah… that'd be rude, right? Ramuda was actually bein' kinda cool, lettin' him crash here and all, even if he was pokin' at him like a gremlin high on sugar.
Dice blinks, sluggish, and gives Ramuda a sideways look, one brow barely raised, the kind of deadpan only Dice could make look like he was still trying.
"Sleepover, huh? You plannin' to braid my hair next or somethin'?" He huffs and gives a lopsided grin, the kind that says I'm too tired to care, but you're lucky I like you. Then adjusts the pillow tighter to his chest, curling in more like a sleepy cat than a grown man. "Fine, ask away, little sleepover host… but if your next question's 'what's your deepest fear,' I'm walkin' straight out the door in my socks."
''I can't help it! I was just really, really, really happy to see you again~ we're gonna have tons and tons of fun too, and there will be loads of yummy foods for us to eat as well~''
It's just what made him feel safe, being with someone he trusted with his life. And while the energetic thing was an act with most people, when it came to his posse it was genuine. Ramuda always felt happy to see them, spend time with them, and he just loved spoiling them to bits with pretty clothes hand-made by their own resident gremlin. Of course he knew it wasn't needed, but it had always been one of his love languages. Gift giving and physical affection were so easy, and they made him feel so happy, so he really didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.
Taking Dice into the back so they could change, he gave a happy little wiggle at the confirmation that this really was a date. But he was just slightly confused by how he should give more than teammate vibes. He was already very touchy after all, always spoiled his posse, thinking on it as he changed into his kimono. But then he recalled one of their previous conversations, and he finally knew what to do. Absolutely lighting up, a loud gasp came from him too as realization fully hit.
''Us dating means I can finally kiss you! Ahaha, I get to kiss my pretty Dicey lots and lots now! Oh, oh, and I'm also gonna hold your hand a ton more! I get to date you, you're my cutie pretty boyfriend now~''
Dice was just finishing adjusting his obi, fingers pulling the knot snug with a casual sort of finesse when he heard that voice light up behind him like fireworks. He turned on instinct, kimono sleeves swaying with the motion, and there Ramuda was—radiant, beaming, that same dangerous mix of sugar-sweet and trouble wrapped in pastel colors and a grin wide enough to split the sky. His heart stuttered, but he played it cool, chuckling under his breath with a low rasp. "Well... yeah. That kinda comes with the title, right?" he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, sheepish despite the way his usual swagger threatened to sneak in. He stepped closer, slow and unhurried, that confident strut of his mellowed into something more deliberate, like he didn't want to scare the moment off.
"Y'mentioned earlier I'm good at this stuff," he said, voice dipping as he eyed Ramuda with something gentler, "but that's just 'cause I stumble around till I find what works. I'm not some romance master or anything." A rare honesty snuck into his tone. Then his hand moved—slow, deliberate—as he reached to fix the slightly askew collar of Ramuda's kimono, his fingers brushing the fabric with surprising care. They lingered for a second too long, not to tease this time, but because he wanted to. "With you… I don't wanna mess it up."
shouga-nai responding
Not Sasori paying people to take Deidara off his hands... only to get jealous when the date actually goes well, I mean what
SMH. OF COURSE SASO WOULD—sly as ever! Totally serves him right for trying to pass Deidara off like that, hmph! ( Dei is totally grinning thru all this btw- )
And nooo Dice ;^; I would gladly buy him a meal and hang out 💖Doppo would too but probably out of obligation at first :') They could bond all the more over Rio's survival cooking lol
That said, Dice would still be grateful—he's not turning down a free meal. And if it means spending time with Doppo? Even better. Dice would 100% drag Doppo out to Rio's camp! There's something kind of sweet about them bonding out in the wild, learning how to live off the land together.
He chose to overlook the initial critique of the date—after all, they had complimented his attractiveness—an assessment he wholeheartedly agreed with—and the meal was nothing short of exquisite.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Heh, can't blame them. This level of good looks is practically a work of art, yeah."
Imagine the surprise when you realize the free meal you've been enjoying was actually a date. Caught up in the deliciousness, you eat as if you've been starving for days—probably because you have. Only later does it dawn on you:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Hold up... that was a DATE?!"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"…well, this is awkward."
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"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my man. The fleeting nature of beauty is what makes it true beauty. Like true art, it's not meant to last… and that's what makes it so wondrous, un."
@shouga-nai | continued.
@pyonpyonpyon | continued.
Dice's gaze had been fixed on Gentaro for what felt like an eternity—his emerald eyes glowing from across the room, the way they seemed to dare him to come closer, to step into the game. Dice was no fool; he could feel the pull, the tension. A small smirk tugged at his lips as he stood up, his movements slow and deliberate as he slipped his winnings from the table with a flourish. The money? Unimportant. The real prize? That beckoning finger, that invitation from Gentaro. Dice couldn't help but feel a thrill run through him, like a slow burn. His attention was solely on him. All these beauties in the room, and only Gentaro could catch his eye. As he made his way through the crowded party, Dice's heart raced, his steps sure and confident. He had been waiting for this moment, anticipating it with such a hunger in his chest.
When he finally reached Gentaro, Dice took his hand, smooth and effortless, leading him toward the hallway. The world softened around them, each step lit the path toward something the gambler dared to believe in. "Let's grab some air. It's a bit stuffy in here," Dice said, his voice smooth and inviting. As they walked, he couldn't help but admire Gentaro's subtle yet enticing presence. The night was ripe for the taking, and Dice was determined to savor every second of it.
Doppo was reluctant to reveal even a modicum of vulnerability because he knew the detriment it would have, the threat of it becoming an ultimatum or ammunition for someone, somewhere. That sort of apprehension twisted into fear and then dread. Then he was struck with a revelation that only exacerbated it, what if he was so worthless, so insignificant that no one had ever considered it and all of that anxiety had been pointless. It was a ruthless landscape ravaged by a relentless war, monotony sapping at him until he felt so enervated, so weary, that the only thing left of him was his simmering rage and the urge to collapse into his bed and instantly close his eyes. If they never opened again, if he could be relinquished into that dark embrace, maybe, just maybe, someone would notice his absence at the office tomorrow. With a somnolent blink, weighed down by the remnants of the booze or the excitement that undulated off of Dice, he found his reluctance began to wane. The notorious gambler seemed impervious to despair, as if those dark, slithering tendrils couldn’t find purchase on his fearless heart. He felt a little envious, peeking up at him from beneath the haven of blankets, wondering what it must be like to be so indomitable. He stared, unaware of the intensity of it, or the way the walls he had erected and once thought impregnable had begun to deteriorate with the warmth of alcohol or the warmth of —friendship. Doppo’s concept of friends seemed to only extend as far as his teammates, others seemed to fall into categories like tolerable, unbearable and should be avoided at all costs. Did it make him seem aloof, cold even, since Dice possibly knew more of him in his fervent bursts of anger as he performed was this side of him incongruous to it, unbelievable almost. His head was beginning to hurt again, his thoughts swarming and swimming and colliding and collapsing. His stomach lurched and he forced his eyes closed for a moment although when they opened again Dice was a fraction closer than before. A soft, incredulous breath failed to be clenched between his teeth, his eyes wide, his heartbeat erratic, he could feel it thundering at the base of his throat. “ D-Distract me ?” The repetition was clumsy, like his tongue was leaden, or kept clacking uselessly against his teeth, he hadn’t been able to blink or look away, almost convinced he could feel the warmth of Dice’s breath as it fanned against his skin. It was molten, searing, alleviating, warm, warm, warm. He wasn’t sure he should show him what lurked beneath his demure facade, Dice might end up biting off more than he can chew, seeing something that really shouldn’t be glimpsed by anyone, ever.
“ Fun, fun… this is fun ?” He gave the blanket a weak jerk, as if he were gonna pull it over his head but it was only for emphasis. Doppo had been convinced that Dice’s fun would be confined to the bursts of neon light announcing another storefront dedicated to gambling, eager to empty out his pockets and thrust him back out into the frigid night without a yen to his name. His cheeks were flushed, embarrassment from someone else being languidly perched on his bed, probably, the alcohol still flooding his veins and softening his demeanour, maybe that too. “ Y-You really want to hear that ?” Ah, he didn’t believe it, or was uncertain at the very least, who, other than a professional therapist charging an exorbitant amount of money by the hour, would willingly subject themselves to that. As he was staring into Dice’s eyes he found there was no annoyance, no repugnance, he looked rather relaxed, sure but there was something earnest about that too, something that almost left Doppo feeling disoriented. He sunk further under the blankets, thinking that if they swallowed him what he said next might lose its significance. “ I really hate them, you know.” It left a bitter taste on his tongue, a dull pulse beneath his skin that felt like the echoes of anger. “ Every day they ask me to do their job, contradicting the things I say, telling me I don’t know what I’m doing.” Vomit would have tasted better than this, the rancid remnants of every drink he had that evening and the dinner he had picked at rather than eaten in full would have tasted better than this. His brows furrow, through those heavy-lids he looks up at Dice, appraising his expression or attempting to convince the several copies of him that they should merge back into one. “ …Again, again again, I do what they ask, you’d think that knowing I'm doing their job would make them realize I know how to do it better than they do.” laughter bubbles past his lips, a little delirious, a little desperate, a little sad. “ I think about running away sometimes..” he trails off for a moment, rolling onto his side, resting a hand against his cheek and feeling the relief the coolness of his skin brings. “ ….where would you go, if you could go anywhere ?”
Dice blinked slowly, the dim ceiling light above him swirling like some kind of sleepy halo, and Doppo's words cut through the haze with a strange, unexpected sharpness. The smile he wore — lazy, lopsided from the liquor still humming in his blood — faltered just enough to reveal the little fracture it had been hiding. His eyes dropped to where Doppo was curled under the blanket, voice like the last flicker of a candle, and something in Dice… twisted. "Doppo…" he breathed, voice softer than he meant it to be. He shifted on the bed, letting his body angle toward him, folding an arm beneath his head like a makeshift pillow, as though trying to get even closer to whatever storm was spinning inside the man beside him.
He watched him. Really watched him — not just the bags under his eyes, or the tired slump of his shoulders, or the quiet desperation clinging to his voice. But all of him. "Are you okay, man?" Dice asked, his words a little slurred, but heavy with something rawer. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for him, to anchor Doppo before he slipped too far into that familiar abyss. He knew those signs. Knew them too well. That look in Doppo's eyes? That wasn't just being tipsy. That was the war after the drinks — when everything you'd been trying to drown started clawing back up your throat like it refused to be forgotten.
Dice's chest tightened. Yeah, he'd been there. Hell, he lived there most days. A deep breath filled his lungs, and he let it out slow. "I did it," he said, quietly, honestly, eyes drifting up to the ceiling like the confession could float away easier that way. "I ran. Thought if I left everything behind, it'd all stay behind too. My family, the pressure, the expectations. But turns out… you can't outrun what's in your own damn head." His tone was still light, still Dice, but there was weight to it now — the kind that cracked jokes so he wouldn't cry.
He turned back to Doppo, voice lower, steadier. "You're still standing in the middle of all that mess, still trying. That's brave, man. Braver than I was." He gave a soft, sad chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, almost sheepish. "You know what I think? I think you're cool, Doppo. Yeah, you. You're working your ass off in a world that's trying to crush you, and you haven't bailed. That's… admirable. Real admirable."
Then, maybe just to lighten the weight threatening to crush the air between them, Dice tilted his head with a lazy grin, eyes twinkling even as the moment hung heavy. "If I could go anywhere, huh? Guess I'd pick somewhere warm. With good food. Good beer. Maybe… somewhere I could start over." He shifted, curling a little closer now, until his knees lightly brushed against the back of Doppo's ( the other now turned away beneath the blankets ), until the buzz in his chest wasn't just the drinks anymore. "But I think I'd want someone with me this time. Ain't as fun alone, ya know?"
His voice dropped, barely above a whisper, "Maybe, just for tonight, this bed right here… this is the best place I could be."
“Favourites.” as if it needed any confirmation, this potentially fictitious list had a very obvious leader, the way his voice dips, saccharine as it was provocative, only corroborates that. He was in no rush to relinquish his seemingly tenacious hold on his composure, after all, even he could appreciate the appeal of a game including risk rather than circumventing it. That is the place where anticipation thrives, those deft fingers brushing against his side eliciting a pleasant shudder, his eyes drifting longingly from Dice’s eyes and down to the contagious quirk of his lips. Gentaro knew the shape of them well, whether they curled in mirth or pursed into a pleading pout, he had long since memorized the way they looked, the way they might taste. Gentaro’s pulse beats in a restless cacophony, with each touch, each look imbued with an obvious hunger, he felt his restraint receding. It was an invitation, an intoxicating moment to swathe himself in the warmth of Dice’s mischievous hands and allow that mask of composure to disperse upon a bated breath. Does Dice know how fiercely he yearns for it, to be extricated from a night devoted to transcribing the end of his novel as he is eased out of those stifling layers of clothing. Gentaro wanted him to be the one to give in to temptation first, knowing that being laid bare and seen wanton would relieve him of something, satisfying a hunger that insisted on gnawing through his skin. “ Indeed, lucky you.”
It’s impossible to resist when Dice beckons him closer, because something inside him was stirring. His own hands, willowy and touched by the remnants of ink, ease off another layer, white yielding to black, another trembling breath, the reckless thrill of it turning electric in his veins. It may have seemed like the pace was set by him, tortuous minutes protracting the inevitable, each slither of skin becoming then both a reward and temptation. But he was compelled by Dice’s desire, a sultry heat that not only mirrored his but augmented it, leaving the lingering warmth of his fingertips in the wake of each playful touch. “ Hmm, you don’t seem to hate it.” he muses, finally close enough that he can breach that inviolable distance between them, instantly relieved as his fingers splay against the gambler’s chest. He could feel his heartbeat, erratic, impatient, thundering under the swells of his fingertips. Nothing Gentaro meticulously crafted could replicate this feeling. “ Was I being too obvious ?” Ah, it seemed rather unfair how Dice’s voice could have that effect on him. Even now, as he continues to play the game under Dice’s authority he feels that those parts of him that are most honest are becoming traitorous. “ You want to hear me admit it ? I like it. I can say it as many times as you want.” Because something was unravelling in him, what had begun as a playful quip, a challenge, was leisurely dismantling him piece by piece. Gentaro believes Dice is enjoying it too, he doesn’t do well to hide it. His fingertips trailed down the front of Dice’s shirt, slowly, as if he were contemplating the way the fabric crumpled. “ I like this.” He breathed out, more a whisper than a confession, by the time his fingers rested at the delimitation where his skin met the rise of his jeans his eyes flitted up to hold his fervent gaze once more. “ I like it.” His cadence was rich with desire, intermittently his breath would hitch, revealing just how close Gentaro’s impervious facade was to collapse. Dice hadn’t even done much more than tease him, how might he look when he finally relented, breathless and flushed on the verge of begging, even Gentaro doesn’t know. He smiles, a subtle, indulgent sort of smile that belies the heat burgeoning within him, he liked this, the allure of temptation, the way he would have to confess long before he was given any sort of satisfaction. It was the appeal of the game, after all; Gentaro didn’t mind losing. “ A mind beset by distractions won’t create anything worthwhile.” is what he chooses to admit, his own mouth quirking at the corners to mirror that delightful smirk of his. “ I’ll allow you to.”
Dice felt like the air in his lungs had just been replaced with something denser, something laced with desire and static tension. Gentaro's voice — velvet-dipped and molten at the edges — unfurled through the room like slow-burning incense, wrapping around Dice's already fraying sense of restraint. The confirmation, soft as it was, hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. 'I'll allow you to..' The words rang in his ears like the chime of a jackpot — and god, didn't it feel like he'd just won something rare and divine.
He let out a sharp breath, half a laugh, half a growl, the smirk on his lips twitching like he couldn't contain the sheer thrill bubbling up from inside. His eyes, a stormy swirl of something deeper than mischief now, locked onto Gentaro's with an intensity that left no room for retreat. "Tch... Damn it, Gentaro," he muttered under his breath, voice ragged with heat, the weight of the moment thick between them. His fingers, still ghosting along the seams of Gentaro's shirt, suddenly pressed firmer, more grounded, like he needed to feel the realness of this — of him — right now, or he'd combust.
Dice moved before his brain could process anything else, instincts taking over. His hand slid up to cradle Gentaro's cheek, thumb brushing just beneath the curve of his eye with a tenderness that was almost criminal in contrast to the hunger sparking in his gaze. "You really shouldn't say things like that," he murmured low, the edge of his grin softening — not losing its wickedness, but gaining something rawer. "You give me permission, and I might just take everything." His voice dropped to a rasp, intimate, barely a whisper shared between two hearts beating far too fast.
And then he closed the distance.
Dice's lips met Gentaro's with a fevered kind of reverence, a slow ravishing that deepened with every second — lips moving with purpose, with passion, with a gambler's recklessness unshackled. His other hand found its way to Gentaro's hip, fingers curling, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies flush. It wasn't just a kiss — it was a claim, a confession, a thousand unspoken desires all flooding through that single point of contact. Dice didn't do things halfway, and now that the gates were open, he kissed like a man starved — like he wanted to memorize every quirk of Gentaro's mouth, to taste every syllable he'd ever uttered with it.
He broke the kiss only to breathe, but even that was shaky and stained with laughter, his forehead resting against Gentaro's now. "Heh... you sure you're okay with this?" he asked, voice low and teasing, but his eyes held a flicker of something deeper — something real. His fingers stayed, tracing idle patterns against skin and cloth alike, and his grin widened just a bit. "'Cause I'm not stoppin' now that you let me in, Gentarou~"
ㅤㅤㅤFor some reason, Dice's own yelling surprises him. It shouldn't have— after all he'd been the first to shout. But it does and he looks back to his teammate with eyes wide like some cornered animal. ( Wasn't he though ? ) There was never any chance at pushing him away, something Ramuda still told himself was possible, and he can feel the part of him that's touched by that knowledge. It's a part that wants to rush out and apologize and take back whatever he said. ( What was it he said ? ) But he was still fighting against it. Lips press together again to keep it in.
ㅤㅤThere's something tight in his chest and he feels uneasy. It makes it a little hard to talk. Not that he's saying much anyway— because HOW is he supposed to respond to more of Dice's care and concern ? Something he kept giving out so freely with little in return. What about the incredible patience he's shown while Ramuda struggles to figure everything out ? He opens his mouth to say something only to stop and take a step back when the other reaches out. He didn't mean to— it was reflex— and he feels worse almost instantly. The shakes worsen too and there's nothing that can hide it anymore. The facade held together with flimsy tape was finally coming apart. " ...What's wrong with pretending ? "
ㅤㅤIt's a quiet, sincere question. He barely gets it out when tears prick his eyes and the designer discovers how PAINFUL such raw emotion can be. It's overwhelming. It's suffocating. It's everything he can't handle. He wipes the tears with his sleeve before trying to hide behind it. " Stupid Dice... You don't know anything. I— I can't figure it out ! It hurts... " His voice begins to strain. " I hate it when you're nice to me ! I hate it when you care ! It feels gross and yucky and I'm sick of it ! " He bites back a sob and needs a second before talking even feels possible again. And Ramuda truly, really, wants to stop. None of this had to come out. There was nothing keeping him from running off ( maybe ) and avoiding this altogether. But that was just delaying another confrontation and he wasn't a coward. " ...How does anyone feel happy like this ? It's too much. "
ㅤㅤㅤDice's eyes dropped the moment Ramuda recoiled— again. He hadn't even gotten close this time, just a reach. A reflex. But seeing the other pull back like that… it hits harder than it should. Tch. A bitter frown carves its way into Dice's expression as he mumbles, "Okay so… no reaching out," the apology half-whispered, like he was talking more to himself than Ramuda. He took one step back—not too far, not too close—just enough to say I'm not trying to smother you, even if every fiber of him screamed to wrap Ramuda up in the hug he looked like he desperately needed. But no. Not now. Not if it meant hurting him more.
ㅤㅤㅤHe crouched down slowly, heavy sigh dragging from his lungs as he rubbed at the back of his neck, knuckles brushing through his shaggy hair. His body was tired, his heart more so, and this whole thing—it was wearing on him. But he'd take a thousand more nights like this if it meant Ramuda was finally talking. Actually talking. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarette pack, flipping it open with a flick of his thumb. Two fingers pulled one out for himself, the other offering one out in a silent truce. "Want one?" he asked around the one already between his lips. He didn't wait, lighting his own with a shaky breath. "Been smokin' more lately… you're part of the reason. Not that I'm blaming you. I just…" he trailed off, ash crumbling off the tip of his smoke, "…don't wanna look back one day and realize I never said what mattered."
ㅤㅤㅤ"Pretending's easy," Dice finally said, dragging in a breath. "But it's lonely, Ramuda. And I don't want that for you. Hell, I don't want that for me either." His eyes, normally so full of mischief and lazy charm, looked haunted now. Tired.
ㅤㅤㅤSmoke curled from his lips as he stared up at Ramuda, the weight in his voice like gravel. "It's okay if you don't understand… I mean, hell, feelings are like… the worst. Talking about 'em? Opening up?" He chuckled, bitter and small. "Scares the hell outta me, too. Letting people see you for real? That's like… betting it all on red and hoping the wheel don't stop on black. But, Ramuda…" Dice's voice dipped, quieter, almost pleading. "Would you really be happy if I stopped caring? If I stopped being nice?" His brows knit, fingers twitching against his knee. "'Cause I could. But I'd hate it. That'd break me more than you'd know." He let that settle, smoke curling in the silence between them, watching, hoping, hurting—and praying that Ramuda wouldn't run this time.
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@pyonpyonpyon from here:
Yesssss!! Sora's been playing the game long and well enough to score herself mentor status in both battle and trade!! She enjoys teaching sprouts about the game tbh it's one of the things she can retain the longest bc she plays ffxiv so often. So she would absolutely be more than happy to help Jyushi out and invite him to Novice Network--and even give him tips about his class(es) and job(s) and any dungeons he wants to run!
Haha, looks like you'll have to take the lead on this one, Yuki—I'm honestly no better than Jyushi when it comes to this game! I played it before for my husband, but mostly just ended up creating new characters and wandering around helplessly, begging friends to join me on quests ;w;
Jyushi would be like, "Wait, can we do this quest first? You get this cute top piece—I need it for my outfit!" -facepalm- So yeah... get ready for that, Sora.
Also Yuki, do you play FFXIV? You started tossing out all those terms like a total pro—don't lie, you're a nerd. ( :p !!!!!!! i say it with love ofc 💖 honestly, i think the world of you! 🙏💛)
It's also lowkey her dream to have an irl meetup with ffxiv friends... yes!!! while the tier list is fairly old and may need some changing the reason jyushi's so high up is because sora loves his music!! honestly she probably would buy an album if jyushi's band made and sold any!! though she's only been to concerts rarely (she's scared of getting lost even though she overprepares for trips out of ikebukuro)... she may have gotten a concert outfit for whenever she does go... her yume kawaii fashion doesn't fit in with the v-kei styles jyushi's fans wear lol she doesn't wanna stand out she wants to fit in and enjoy the music!!
Hmm.. his character name will be something like Amandamoon GoddessOfDarkness—I'm cooking 😂 I'll brainstorm something more coherent later, but the idea of everyone expecting a delicate little princess and then—bam—it's actually a guy?! That twist would be SO fun to play with!
Also, Jyushi would totally take her out to get some flashy v-kei outfits to help her feel comfy in the scene. Or he'd just be like, "Here, wear this from my closet." Instant besties energy! And it could totally turn into a sweet little date. Maybe something more down the line??😌
/me gleefully scheming ways to ship with all your muses like the ship goblin I am. Let's create magic, heartbreak, fluff, and everything in between!
@mddlbro said:
[ FIG ] sender, knowing receiver is hungry, pressures them to eat. ( deidara to sasori hypmic verse! don't skip your meals, saso! ;v; )
A City of Trees - Action Prompts || Accepting!
Woodcarving was delicate work that required absolute precision, and Sasori's crafts were known for their perfect intricate design. That day, however, his grip was uncharacteristically shaky. He'd blame it on the mild throbbing in his head that he couldn't ignore, made ten times worse the moment Deidara decided to show up.
He sighed, irritated, putting down the chisel to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Must you assault my ears at this early hour?" Except it's well past noon. "I don't recall giving any indication that you could barge in here unannounced. If you needed someone to talk to that badly, go visit a social bar."
What was Deidara chewing his ear off about anyway? His gaze finally landed on the package set right by him. A bento box, of all things, filled with a whole well-balanced meal.
...Did the brat bring him lunch?
"Hmph... Who do you think you're talking to, Deidara?" The name was uttered in a steely tone, a deliberate sign that he was being absolutely serious. "I'm not so helpless as to need a meddlesome voice fussing over something so-" It might be the appetizing aroma wafting through the air, because right there and then, a growl interrupted him.
"..." And Sasori's face deadpanned. Blatantly betrayed by his own accursed stomach.
Ah. He really did forget to eat again. It's no wonder he's losing energy and focus, headache persisting. Undeniably, it's impeding his work progress. And there's one clear remedy for all that, he knew that well. So he shot Deidara a pointed look. "...Not a word." With that, he begrudgingly grabbed the chopsticks and took a bite of the side tamagoyaki.
Sasori's response was as expected—sharp and dismissive, that snippy edge cutting through the air like a blade. Deidara felt his jaw tighten, a familiar irritation flaring up in him. What the hell was Sasori's problem? Here he was, doing something nice for the prick—bringing food because Deidara knew damn well the man hadn't had a bite all day—and yet Sasori was acting like he was above it all. Deidara was about to fire back a snarky comment when—grumble—a low growl rumbled from Sasori's stomach, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Deidara paused, his brows raising in disbelief as he tried not to laugh. The look on Sasori's face was priceless. He wasn't the only one surprised by the sound of a stomach betraying its owner. Serves him right!
A smug grin spread across Deidara's face as he stifled his laughter, his expression shifting from annoyance to amused judgment. "Ah, looks like even your stomach's got more sense than you, yeah?" WAS on the tip of his tongue, but Deidara held back! Instead he slid into the seat across from Sasori, resting his elbow on the desk, chin in his palm, and studied the other with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
Watching Sasori pick at the food, his smirk only grew as he noticed the craftsmen's first choice—the tamagoyaki. Does the grump like eggs, hm? "Actually, you're the one who could use a night out. You look like a drink might do you some good, hn." He leaned back slightly, one leg crossed over the other (ankle-on-knee), his bright eyes never leaving Sasori as he continued to eat, silently wondering if the meal was to his liking. He'd made it himself, but there was no way in hell he'd admit that to Sasori.
"And just so we're clear—I would've given you a heads-up if you'd bothered to share your number... Also, 'early'? It's evening, my man. Maybe check your phone sometime before declaring what time it is."
repost and BOLD your muse's preference. ( DEIDARA. )
roses / CHERRY BLOSSOMS / orchids / tulips winter / summer / autumn / SPRING thunderstorms / SUNSHINE / snow indoors / OUTDOORS MEAT / fruit / sweets EXTRAVAGANCE / traditionalism / minimalism god-fearing / NON-GOD-FEARING cats / dogs / horses / BIRDS SUNRISE / SUNSET DAY TIME / night time FIRE / EARTH / water / wind READING / writing RISING EARLY / sleeping late wine / ale / NEITHER / both fur / silk / satin / LACE RUBIES / pearls / sapphires horseback / WALKING / carriages LOVE / POWER HAVING COMPANY / being alone lakes / RIVERS / oceans KNIFE / sword / bow / poison GOLD / silver
TAGGED: stolen. shhh..🤫 TAGGING: @shouga-nai, @pyonpyonpyon, @dancinghearts, @altarfates, @devildrop, @smol-sirens-garden ( for any muse! :3 )
A completely hypothetical question for Deidara in the name of science: what would he think if he finds sketches and sculptures that coincidentally and suspiciously look a lot like him at Sasori's studio?
DOES HE THOUGH??? 👀 Hazy, c'mon, don't hold out on us!
Alright, if Deidara caught sight of those totally-not-him sculptures in Sasori's studio, his ego would be soaring before the shock even wore off. After blinking a few times and maybe circling the art like a suspicious cat, he'd lean in with that trademark grin and say:
" Oh, Danna... mesmerized by my beauty, are we? I always knew I'd be your muse one day. Honestly, I'm flattered. Next time, just ask me to pose—I don't bite… unless you ask nicely, hmm~ [ wink ] "
And since we're diving into hypotheticals, if Sasori were to open any of Deidara's sketchbooks—probably scattered like landmines across the floor (of his bedroom)—he'd find himself there too! Posed mid-(rap)battle, hunched over a puppet, maybe even sleeping (like that one time). Oh, and a few hyper-detailed sketches of that one scorpion puppet that nearly made Deidara scream when Sasori jumped him with it. True nightmare fuel, lovingly rendered.
Deidara has sculpted him before, of course. But in true Deidara fashion, that creation was destined for one glorious, fiery end. A magnificent explosion—a fleeting moment of beauty immortalized in flame and ash. Now that's art, yeah.
Now I'm tossing the question back at you (for science obvi :p): What would Sasori do if he found all of that? Would he confront Deidara with that flat deadpan of his, or would he just silently judge him and go back to sanding puppet parts like nothing happened?
just barely five foot, you hit like a shotput & you got me
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@mddlbro
It was his favorite season for sure, and not only because of all the pink. But also because of the mass of cherry blossom flavored treats. Drinks, cookies, cakes, you name it! Though going alone was very much boring, and so Ramuda had called over one of his friends. Hearing the knock on the door, he flung it open and instantly pulled Dice inside, shoving a blue and pink kimono into his face. Of course he knew this wasn't just a one day festival, but at the same time he was just far too eager to go out and spend some time together.
''Dicey! Lookie, I made you a pretty thingie to wear for our fun day out! We're gonna go eat cherry blossom everything, and we can play around in the park with all the fallen petals too, yeah? Oh, oh, I made myself a kimono too, looking just like yours only it's pink and purple!''
Clearly he was very excited about this, bouncing in place. He was always feeling extra energetic when it came to spending time with someone he cared about, wondering if maybe he could talk Dice into letting him do his hair too. Oh, he could braid in some pink ribbons! Or maybe a simple updo would look better? No wait, they should change first, get their super cute matching kimonos on! Making sure he had plenty of his candies too, he did finally pause a bit. He didn't exactly know what they were right now. Just friends? Besties? Lovers?
''So...this is gonna be like...a date, yeah? You're the one who's good at that stuff.''
Dice blinked as the door swung open with a burst of Ramuda's trademark enthusiasm, his heart giving a little jolt that he couldn't quite suppress. The pink and blue fabric was shoved right in his face, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at it. Damn it, Ramuda, he thought, rubbing a hand through his hair, but even as his lips pulled into that familiar sarcastic grin, his eyes softened just a little as they flickered to the kimono. He snorted, shaking his head. "You're a handful, you know that? But hey, at least you know how to make an entrance." The words came out teasingly, but there was an unspoken affection in them, buried beneath the usual bite of his tone.
His fingers grazed the fabric, feeling the delicate silk under his touch as he gave it a once-over. The playful air around him lingered, though his grin shifted into something softer, something almost intimate as he met Ramuda's gaze. "Guess I don't mind this time… It is pretty, I'll give you that," he said, voice low and fond, even as he shot Ramuda a grin that could only be described as a mixture of mockery and affection. A date. The words echoed in his head as his heart fluttered, just a little—boyfriends, huh? Was this really happening? His hand drifted up, almost instinctively, to gently tuck a stray lock of Ramuda's hair behind his ear, his fingers lingering a fraction longer than necessary. The playful edge was still there, but it softened, and he looked at Ramuda with something more vulnerable beneath the teasing. "I'm just saying, if we're gonna do this whole 'date' thing, I need more than just a teammate vibe from you, alright?" His voice dropped a touch, as if the walls he always kept up for self-preservation were just a little more cracked. "But...I guess that's something we figure out together." The light pinch to Ramuda's cheek was a reminder of the comfortable banter that held them together, but the warmth behind his eyes, the unspoken "thank you" in his gaze, was all too real. He turned, tossing the kimono over his shoulder with a sigh. "Let's go change. Get this date started."
