A/N: Sooo, I know I haven’t posted for like almost two weeks. Wasn’t feeling well and my brain took a hit from it. I’ll be back at the updates these next two weeks, including for WTIOH. But, hey, here’s a one-shot of ridiculous, meaningless fluff to start out. Hope you like it all the same.
The ways you said “I love you”: #15: Loud, so everyone can hear
Seven wasn’t sure how he arrived at the park. Vanderwood had told him to take an hour break to clear his head before getting back to work, and his legs had acted on their own, stopping at a coffee shop for some caffeine, and then just walking…walking…walking…until finally, he was here.
Grey clouds loomed above him, and the smell of impending rain hung in the air. It was mostly quiet here. Some couples on blankets…families riding bikes…a few children ran past his legs as if he were some invisible being.
And that was exactly what he was: an invisible cockroach taking a reprieve in the real world.
He shook the thought from his head and continued to follow his legs’ capricious whim. He only stopped when he saw a familiar bundle of hair tucked into a hat. He had to blink a few times before he could trust his sleep-deprived eyes. But he was right. It was indeed you sitting on that secluded park bench. You had your own cup of coffee cradled in your palms, and your breath swirled into the chilly air.
He smiled at the sight. He pressed a hand over his cross necklace and thanked God for the blessing. He was sure you were an angel, guiding him away from the craggy precipice of his dark thoughts.
He chewed on his bottom lip and checked his watch. He had a few minutes to kill…and you were all alone. You of all people shouldn’t have been alone. Not allowing himself to think himself out of it, he casually walked by and sat next to you. When you didn’t react to the extra weight on the park bench, he slung an arm around your shoulder, resisting the upward tug of his lips.
Finally, you turned to look at him. His stomach flipped at the mix of exasperation and curiosity that always brightened your eyes whenever you tried to figure out his next move. Perhaps that’s why he liked teasing you so much. To you, he was a puzzle, and though he hoped you would never get close enough to solve him, your efforts sent a dizzying sensation to his head.
He nonchalantly sipped his coffee, pretending to do a double take at you. “MC!” he gasped with feigned surprise. “I didn’t even realize it was you.”
“Is that so?” you said, your brow quirking upwards. You grabbed his wrist and unwrapped his arm from your back, pressing it to his side. “And do you always put your arms around strangers?”
“Only cute ones,” he quipped before smiling into his drink. Satisfaction spread through his body at the crimson flourishing across your cheeks. This had become an unspoken game between the two of you–making provocative comments until someone cringed or completely lost it in embarrassment. Even though he knew nothing could ever come of it, Seven thoroughly enjoyed the banter. You humored him and played along in a way no one ever did.
Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game
Update: 03/23/2017 – PC Version 220.127.116.110 / Mac Version 18.104.22.1680
Happy March Simmers!
We have a short update here, as we step onto the approach. We’ve picked our ball from the rack, and we’ll try not to hook into a split.
So, without spending too much time on this frame, let’s address the lane…
Babies born to parents whose last name includes an apostrophe, will also have an apostrophe in their last name.
Hovering over the name field in Create a Sim will once again cause the cursor to change to a ‘Cursor and Pencil’ cursor.
Non-active Sims with violin and guitar skill will no longer silently horde violins and guitars in their inventories.
We’ve made improvements to Sim interaction selection.
Sims will no longer woodwork to the exclusion of all else.
Teens are now allowed to move out on their own from the Household Management screen.
The lighting created by the combination of curtains and windows will no longer change upon reload.
The ymMakeupEyebrows_Unibrow will now save upon exiting Create a Sim.
Taking a cutting from a wild plant will once again identify the plant from which it was taken.
We have addressed an issue that could cause adults to take a serving from a group meal and just place it in their inventory. They should now, if hungry, take a serving, and eat it.
The Chomper the Devourer toybox will now properly be searched for when using the color filters in Build Mode.
Sims are once again sitting to watch TV.
Sims were incorrectly being allowed to choose a primary aspiration upon age up from teen to young adult, which would result in two bonus traits. This option has been removed.
The Starbroker styled look can once again be found for teens when the feminine filter is on.
And along the same lines the ymHair_EP01LowBun can also once again be found under the masculine filter… it too had been incorrectly unhooked and left in limbo.
The Let There Be Light and The Let There Be More Light windows now have matching frames under any light.
Undo in Create a Sim will no longer change the camera setting.
Switching phone covers will now remember their settings between loads of the game.
We have addressed an issue with emotional aura’s incorrectly putting children into a flirty emotion. Children should never enter the flirty emotion.
Addressed an issue that could cause a child Sim aged up from a toddler to be unable to use stairs.
Giving a toddler a bath should no longer become impossible when a baby is added to the household.
puHair_Medwavy (aka the big curly hair) toddler hair will now maintain the chosen color regardless of outfit chosen.
Toddler socks can now be found in formal wear.
Fixed some highlight issues in Create a Sim that resulted in graphical issues when hovering over the feet of some Sims.
Fixed an issue in Create a Sim that would cause the filter display to become corrupted if enough filters were chosen such that the … (dot dot dot) replacement display was needed.
Fixed a seam that could appear on the back of a Sims head when wearing cuHair_SP06StraightSide hairstyle.
Which should clarify the expected action of an “enter name here” field…
…where you could use a pencil to enter your name.
Please, don’t draw on your monitor.
So, we need you to play at this event, do you have your own instrument?
Ok then, we’ve had a few of our violins go missing recently, so if you could just make sure to return this when your shift is over, that’d be great.
Ok then, I’ll just put this violin in your pocket. Are you comfortable with the violin?
Ok, then, why don’t you take this guitar too, just in case. Soooo, I guess that’ll be all.
Klepto Sims interaction test to swipe something was being tested for, even when there were no klepto Sims present, increasing the time it took for Sims to decide on actions to take.
Also, they are allowed to move back in.
However, their room was probably converted into a spa, or something…
Their parents have taken on a new roommate named Barney…
And they make you pay rent.
Just stay away, it’s better.
Alignment over a clear goal was brought to the table, in a face time generation of a sustainable proactive win-win spin-up of the problem. A holistic outside of the box approach was what ultimately brought our synergy to a proper wellness level, and allowed us to break through the clutter for an end of the day exit strategy to this issue.
It had accidentally been untagged, which caused it to only appear when no filters were selected.
Ooooooh oh yea.
Yep, I’m currently working on the chorus. I’m thinking platinum this time next year.
No matter whether it be little, more, little more, or more than a little light, the Let There Be windows are letting light be light.
UNDO IN CREATE A SIM WILL NO LONGER CHANGE THE CAMERA SETTING!!
Because even if you understand how the code is put together, this makes no sense.
Also, we have preemptively prevented Sims from spontaneously combusting after storing a salad in the refrigerator while the stereo is playing pop.
Red hair please.
You got it, want brown hair on that toddler?
Thank you, red hair will be fine.
Brown hair coming up.
Red yes, brown no.
Hold the red.
No, I want the red.
Brown it is.
Brown me no “likes”
Ah, come on, make up your mind!
Okay, okay on second thought…. make my toddler bald.
There was some debate that resulted in a survey of a handful of toddlers, and their thoughts on formal attire. Results varied, as you would expect, but with proper skewing we found that more toddlers preferred to keep their feet covered, than those that desired an open toe approach.
And while this doesn’t preclude the open toe option for those with the proclivity to free the digits, it does make one wonder why we keep a handful of toddlers around the office for just these sorts of things.
This issue should no longer occur. (dot)
Though some have speculated on the possibility of the seam being an Edgar suit, it should be pointed at that beyond the seam, there was a clear lack of droopy cheek, wrinkle neck, and glassy eye.
Any desire a Sim may express for sugar in water is purely coincidental.
(A/N) Ay! Ay! Ayyyyyy! Ya girl is finally making her summer comeback and what better way to kick it off than to bless everyone with some Mark Lee?! I am beyond excited for this scenario, it’s fluffy…it’s hilarious (if I do say so myself). Prepare for some slightly (lol nah) tipsy adventures as Mark and you are invited to you first ever college house party! Hang on tight kiddies and enjoy!!!
DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT CONDONING OR PROMOTING UNDERAGE DRINKING!!! THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!!!
Sure, Mark had reassured you numerous times that he knew what kind of party you were going to; said that he knew the people throwing it, that it was going to be small. But as you parked along the street of the glittering house whose lawn was strewn with toilet paper and beer cans, you began to doubt him.
All throughout the week, Mark had tried to beg and convince you to go with him to the party his older friends in college were throwing on Friday night. You’d come up with valid excuses, but Mark was persistent and was never one to give in.
“Come on, ______…,” he would whine, tugging on your fingers like he knew how much you enjoyed his attention.
You would blush and roll your eyes, “But there will be alcohol right? We could get in trouble…”
He’d stand in front of you with a frown, “______, you and I both know that wouldn’t be our first time drinking.”
“Yeah, but that was at your house…”
And so the arguing would go on until you finally caved and told him you would go with him, as long as he would be with you the whole time. You didn’t know any of these people, and you’d heard enough horror stories to know that some people’s intentions weren’t always as pure as they appeared.
“Damn,” you heard Mark whisper from the driver’s seat, neck craning to look up all three stories of the bed and breakfast looking house. “Looks like it’s a frat house.”
“Is that guy naked…?,” you squinted up at a window to see the distinct backside of a boy.
“Well would you look at that,” he laughed, completely unfazed by the public nudity. “Johnny wasn’t wrong when he said these parties get crazy.”
You remained silent, sliding out of Mark’s car as he turned off the ignition and handed you his keys, winking at you, “Hang on to these for me?”
“Sure,” you nodded, blushing as you slid them into the handy pockets of your skirt. “So who’s party is this again?”
“It’s Johnny’s,” Mark grinned, walking with you up the steps of the house, which probably would look nice if it hadn’t been for all the toilet paper and cans everywhere.
“Have I met him before?,” you asked, wracking your brain for a face to the name.
“I don’t think so,” he said, knocking on the door. “I’m sure he’ll like you though.”
You nodded, the door whipping open suddenly as a rather tall boy leaned against the door frame, his hair falling into his eyes as he grinned, “If it ain’t my boy Mark! How’s it going, kid?” They exchanged a hand shake, and clapped each other on the shoulder obnoxiously before the boy looked over at you, “And who’s this cutie, Mark?”
“Johnny, meet ______,” Mark smiled, nudging you forward. “_______, this is Johnny.”
You smiled, holding out your hand, “Nice to meet you-”
“C'mere,” Johnny grinned, obviously drunk as he clumsily pulled you into his chest. He spoke to Mark over your head in a sad attempt to whisper, “She’s a keeper, Markie. Wifey material.” Mark was stuttering incoherently as you blushed, Johnny releasing you with a grin, “Go free, my little high school lovebirds. Drink to your hearts content, knock before going into rooms, and don’t let my boy Taeil sell you anything. Got it?”
Seconds later, the older boy had pulled the two of you into the chaos of the house head first. You instinctively laced your fingers with Mark’s, who looked down in surprise at your joined hands before meeting your equally shocked gaze.
You had to lean close to his ear in order for him to hear you, stuttering, “C-can I hold your hand? I don’t want to lose you.”
Mark looked down at you in reassurance, his grip tightening, “Of course you can.” He could tell you were nervous, knowing the moment you got alcohol in your system you would loosen up. “Wanna get something to drink?”
You nodded, thinking why the hell not. You were at your first college house party, might as well make the most of it. You allowed Mark to guide you through the crowd, the base thumping and rattling the windows as people danced and talked. The smell of smoke and something stinky was wafting through the air, people sitting on couches and smoking out of bowls and pipes as they faded into their high.
You gawked at everything, feeling completely overdressed in your skirt where other girls were wearing booty shorts, torn jeans, and low cut shirts. You looked down at your green croptop, which you earlier thought might have been too risqué. You laughed at yourself now as Mark tugged you towards a table with various bottles of hard liquor and plastic shot glasses.
Your eyes widened, but Mark looked over at you excitedly, “Wanna do shots with me?” He didn’t even wait for an answer, picking the closest bottle and pouring a generous amount in each cup before handing you one, “On the count of three?”
You grinned, remembering the first time you’d snuck some of Mark’s parent’s liquor when they were out. You’d done it like this too, it made you feel so nostalgic. You nodded, “On three.”
The two of you both counted down before knocking the shots back like champs, not without a fit of laughter and coughs afterwords. Unable to stop yourselves, you convinced each other to take at least two more before the effects started to kick in.
“Here,” Mark slurred, handing you a cup after pouring himself one. “It’s Jungle Juice. Whoever loses rock, paper, scissors has to drink.”
You pouted up at him, taking a step closer and grabbing his cheek, “Markie, you know I’m a lightweight, are you trying to make me throw up?” You felt so much braver when you were buzzed, and definitely touchier.
“Nuh-uh, _______,” Mark shook his head before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you even closer. Normally you would have been embarrassed and pulled away, but you actually leaned closer, smiling lazily as Mark grinned down at you, “Best two out of three?”
“Fine,” you said, holding out your fist as the two of you dueled it out.
“Drink,” he smirked.
“Tip it back, baby,” you grinned.
“I win,” he whooped, spinning the both of you around. “Chug both of ours!”
“Fine,” you exasperated, like drinking was a chore. In your clear subconscious you knew it was a bad idea, but drunk you wanted to impress Mark. So you tipped back your red solo cup full of Jungle Juice and coughed before Mark held his own drink to your mouth, his eyes homing in on your lips.
You came up feeling dizzy, resting your head on his shoulder as he swayed to the music, “Markie can we sit for a second?”
“Sure, want me to carry ya?,” he slurred, already picking you up through your protests. God was smiling down at you as Mark successfully plopped down on the couch, situating your legs across his lap as you leaned into the cushion.
You blinked heavily and held your hand out to Mark, “Hold my hand, please.”
“Why, I’m right here, _______,” he laughed, taking your hand anyway.
“You owe me, you big butt head,” you groaned, letting your head flop down on his shoulder, “It’s your fault I’m this drunk in the first place.”
He let his head rest on yours, and you swore you felt lips on your forehead, as he grinned, “You’re having fun though right? I only care about you having fun, ______, okay?” You laughed and raised your head, the drunken truth spilling from your lips like a fountain, “Don’t say those things, Mark Lee! Sometimes I think you like-”
“_______! Mark!,” a familiar voice shouted, making the two of you look up as God interceded on your drunken behalf once again.
Someone collapsed beside you, and you had to squint before you realized it was Johnny. You felt more excited than you would have been, “Johnnyboy! Look, Mark, it’s Johnny!”
“Woah, Johnny, whatcha doin’ here?,” Mark laughed, high fiving the older boy.
“What’re you talkin’ bout,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his cup. “This is my party you drunk little punk.”
“Hey,” you said, eyes widening in realization as you leaned in towards Johnny. “You hugged me earlier!”
“Hey! So I did,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “You were so cute I couldn’t resist.”
From next to you, Mark shook your shoulder, pouting, “I hugged you earlier too, ______…”
“Yeah, but Johnny hugged me first, Markie,” you explained, bopping him on the nose and tracing his bottom lip as he stared at you with wide eyes.
“Wanna ‘nother hug?,” Johnny interjected, pulling you away from Mark’s wounded expression.
You were confused as to why Mark looked so hurt, but quickly forgot as Johnny pulled you into his chest again, “You know, you don’t look like a high schooler, _______.”
“What?,” you said, quirking an eyebrow as you took another sip from your cup.
“Yeah, girl, all my friends think you’re hot,” Johnny grinned, pointing to an especially attractive looking dark haired boy with veins for days. “Especially Taeyong, wanna meet him?”
“Um,” you blinked, trying to process his words. “Sure?”
Johnny grinned and whistled, catching Taeyong’s attention as the other boy weaved in and out of people like a lion stalking his prey through the grass. For some reason, as Taeyong sat down, you felt nervous for the first time.
“Taeyong, this is ______. She’s Mark’s friend,” Johnny spoke into his cup as he took another gulp.
The new arrival turned his dark gaze on you as he smiled surprisingly sweetly, holding out his hand, “Hey, I’m Taeyong.”
You took his hand, “I’m _______, but Johnny already told you that.” You blushed and Taeyong smirked, he was intimidatingly attractive, almost unreal.
To your surprise he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you closer, leaning in as he spoke, “Who did you come here with, baby girl?”
“I-I…,” you leaned away slightly, feeling like this wasn’t okay for some reason as you thought of Mark. “I came here with Mark.”
“Do you want to leave with him?,” Taeyong murmured in your ear, his hand wandering to the exposed skin of your thigh, tracing the hem of your skirt. “Or maybe…me?”
You stood up suddenly, wrenching yourself from his grip, “N-no, thank you. I need to find…” Who did you need to find? Why did it matter in the first place? Mark wasn’t your boyfriend, couldn’t you have fun with other boys?
Something didn’t feel right though.
You walked over to the drink table, feeling guilty as you took another drunken shot, knowing that you were already past your limit. You remembered Mark’s hurt expression and felt the need to find him. That’s who you needed to find, Mark.
You stumbled through the kitchen, finding yourself completely dizzy as you used the walls to support your weight while you walked. You called out for him, “Mark! Mark Lee! Where the hell are you?”
“You’re lookin’ for Mark?,” a boy with dyed orange hair and broad shoulders asked, taking a drag off a sketchy looking rolled cigarette.
“Yeah,” you squinted up at him as he looked down at you with a calm and amused expression. “Have you seen him? I need to say I’m sorry and give him his keys!” After saying that, you reached into your pocket and pulled out his keys, looking astounded at the fact they were there.
The older boy tucked them back into your pocket before taking you square by the shoulders and pointing to a screened door, “He’s on the porch acting emotional.”
“Thank you…,” you turned and waved at him, realizing you didn’t know his name.
“Doyoung,” he smiled, nudging you along. “Now go apologize to your friend and give him his keys. They’re kind of important.”
You nodded and stumbled slash fell through the door, startling Mark where he sat on the steps of the porch, “________?”
“Oh, Mark!,” you cried, collapsing on the ground as your legs gave out. Tears forming in your eyes as you crawled toward him, dizzy as can be. “Mark I need to tell you something.”
He didn’t seem all that mad anymore, rather amused actually, and maybe a little bit more sober than he was earlier, “And what’s that?”
You took his hand and kneeled in front of where he sat, eyes downcast as you murmured, “I’m…I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I have your keys too…”
“What do you mean?,” he said, tilting his head at you apology as you unceremoniously dropped his keys in his lap.
Your slurred words sounded pitiful when combined with your disheveled apparence and pink cheeks, “When I said Johnny hugged me first and then you got upset.”
Mark blushed, his face turning red as he remembered why he had come out here in the first place, “O-oh, I-I…”
“Mark,” you spoke quietly, looking up at him and cupping his cheek so he had to look at you.
“I really, really like you. I like you more than a friend. Like a girl likes boy kind of like.”
“What?,” he was completely shell shocked that those words even came out of your mouth. “_______ you can’t be serious.”
Your vision began to blur because of the tears, “You don’t believe me? Mark, I’ve always liked you! And I would know I liked you if I was drunk or not.”
“You like me,” he said quietly, leaning towards you slightly, as if double checking he heard right.
You felt angry, grasping him by the front of his shirt and pulling him even closer, “Yes, you giant idiot!”
And like that, one moment you were yelling at him, the next he was kissing you sloppily, the alcohol in your systems preventing you from being properly coordinated. Your eyes spun with stars before they finally sunk close and you felt Mark’s hands come up to cup your face as you pulled him closer by his shirt. You could taste the shots you’d taken earlier with him, which made you grin against his lips.
He pulled away with a laugh, one of his laughs, “What was that for?”
“Nothin’,” you smiled, about to kiss him again before he stopped you. “What?”
“I like you too,” he smirked, seeing how surprised you looked.
“You do?,” you gasped, clambering up into his lap and taking his face in your hands. “You’re not messin’ with me?”
“Hmmm,” he simpered, contemplating his words as he pushed your hair behind your ear. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not…”
“Mark,” you whined, hitting him on his chest as he cackled again.
“I’m just joking,” he smiled, looking up at you through his drunken haze with adoration. “Can I kiss you again?” Seeing you still pouting, he nuzzled into your neck, “Please?”
You giggled as his hair tickled you, “F-fine!”
Mark smirked again, making your heart race as he captured your lips with more confidence this time, his hands grasping your hips softly as you kissed him back. It was like the loud music and people yelling inside had all but ceased to exist, the only sensation you felt through your drunken gaze was Mark’s taste, smell, and touch. You didn’t need anything else.
It felt like you’d been making out for hours, your lips feeling bruised from where Mark had been sneaky enough to bite them. Said boy pulled you to your feet and took your hand, “Wanna get some more to drink? Or maybe we can dance?”
Standing up so suddenly, you felt winded and nauseous, your head spinning as you gulped, “Count me out.”
“Should I ask someone where the nearest bathroom is?,” he grinned, hiding his snorts behind his hand while you bent over to catch your breath for a second. “I’ll even hold your hair back for you, if you want.”
Make a phan fic involving dan and Phil and fidget spinners
anush u do not want to know where my mind went when i saw this.., here’s something a little uhgg more jesus than that
Harder by dangoghs
word count: 950
A/N: basically j dnp as fourteen yr old fbois except my word choice makes it sound kinda ;) dirty,, also sorry for the Lot of stereotyping but ive met plenty of ppl just like this and it doesn’t have any actual harm so
Dan and Phil were sweating viciously in concentration. Their fingers were entwined around two identical fidget spinners. One red and one blue. Fire and water. Life and death. All was silent.
A crowd of friends were surrounding them, but they didn’t matter. It was only dan and phil and the spinners and the moment. Oh my god, it was glorious. They stared at each other from across the table passionately, two tigers in a duel of fatality. This was it.
The two top spinner masters in the whole eighth grade. Finally brought together for a face off. A battle to end all battles. Spinners of godly descent. God knows what was about to happen.
The rules were very clear. Their mutual bro, Bro McBro, gripping his snap-back in one hand which he had taken off in respect of the masters, recited they a last time. “Attention, spinner amateaurs and warriors from all across this realm. It is time for the duel we have been looking forward to for the past two hours because our attention span is very short and I forgot what I was looking forward to before that. I will now state the laws of fidget spinner warfare, although I am sure all of you know them by heart. But first, give it up for the MIGHTY LADY PLAYER AND BALLER, MASTER OF KIK, CALL OF DUTY WARFARE VETERAN, HOMEROOM 8F, DAAAAN HOWELLLL!!!!”
Dan stood up and displayed his masculinity by punching everyone in the chest while screeching “YAAAAAS!!!” His bros passed around the spinner, blessing it with kisses. He was pumped!
“And up against him, the WALKING ADIDAS MAGAZINE, ULTIMATE STREAK KEEPER AND HEART BREAKER, OWNING FIVE PAIRS OF THE SAME SHOES, PHIIIIILLLLL LEESSTERRERR!!!!”
Phil too punched all his bros in the stomach, a ritual of the bro code. He screamed, rivaling Dan’s ‘yas’ in annoyingness, “YEEEEEEEEEET!” while his loyal bros chanted “YA! YA! YA!”
McBro continued, quieting everyone down. “Okay. Firstly, no playin, because you get dishonor and all your streaks broken if you break these rules.” The spinner masters nodded in understanding. “You get thirty seconds to spin your weapons on this fine cafeteria table. Then, we wait. The wielder with the longest spin wins eternal respect and likes on his instagram photos.” The small bro-crowd reveled in the glory of the reward. “Understood?”
Dan and phil, consumed with energy, simply nodded again. They placed their snapbacks together on the side of the table, a sign of friendship. Their bond would not be broken by this duel. They stopped absentmindedly twisting the spinners in their palms and placed them on the table. Dan, red. Phil, blue. “Ready,” cried McBro. “Set!” “Go!”
Dan and phil spun their spinners so fast that the chants of their bros faded into the distance. Spin, spin, spin. “HARDER!” McBro shouted. “HAAAARDER!”
They kept spinning until the thirty seconds were up. It was time to wait.
Dan clenched his teeth and phil used his hand to remove a lock of his hair that was straying onto his sweaty forehead. SPIN! SPIN! SPIN! “YEEEEZ!” Dan squealed. He loved his spinner so much, he trusted it, he was infatuated with it, and it was not disappointing him. He was going to win!
But phil, he was thinking the same thing!! His blue spinner looked like a blue eye. It was spinning so fast that all the nuts and bolts of the trinket blurred together! “UNNHHHHHH!” Phil grunted. He was elated with pleasure.
The boys moaned in satisfaction, both delighted by how their respective spinners were going like lightning. “YES! YES! DONT STOP!” The bros cheered. This was something absolutely amazing!
Over a minute had passed and the spinners were still going strong. They were both groaning ferociously over the intensity of the competition. “FUCK!” Dan yelped, and parted his legs because fuckboys sit like that sometimes for no reason. His red spinner was fire, a volcanic bundle of everything dan lived for, he cheered for it so hard in those moments.
The bros were shouting, “UAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHHHH!” They were overcome with how fast the spinners were going. But then finally, they were starting to slow down! The “UHGGAH” turned into an “OOOOAHAHAHHH!!!” Suspense built up urgently. Phil lusted for victory. His only lecheries, desires, libidos were about this duel. Dan wailed when his spinner began failing him. The agony! The pain! He parted his legs even more! He grinded his nails into the table, in hope Phil’s spinner would slow as well, but no such thing.
And then it was almost over… both spinners were at the pace of a waddle, but Phil’s was still faster. Sabotage was not an option, so dan just sat still and inwardly sighed. His heart was torn in half as his spinner finally came to a halt, after three minutes of overwhelming feelings. He had cried, he had laughed. But now, it was the end.
Phil was maniacally screaming. He had won! He was so joyful that tears were grinding into his cheekbones. He was the master of the eighth grade. The tiger, the dragon, the honor. He licked his fidget spinner, sending his bros into another wave of whoops. Then he climbed onto the lunch table with no mercy for dans misery, and beat his chest like a gorilla. Dans heart was also being hit by these blows, but it was okay. They were bros. No, they were more than bros. But that’s a tale for another day.