Jotaro Kujo : The Sims

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I know the Sims didn't come out until 2000 do I look like I give a single shit

"You've been in here for five hours straight, Short-Stack. What the fuck are you doing?"
"I got the new Sims game, wanna see?" Huffing a little, the marine biologist student strode over, using your head as an arm rest. He had been to university and been to the library in the time you had been playing the Sims. Attempting to waft his arms away, the huge man tittered at your attempt to shake him off. "Quit it with the short stuff! Not everyone is over six foot!"
"Who are those little people?" Extending a slim finger, the digit ghosted the screen a little, crackling static balls running away over the glass. "What are they doing?"
"Have you never heard of the Sims?! You get to make people and put them in a house! They can get jobs and stuff."
"Sounds boring." You pouted at the screen, a smirk appearing on his face when he noticed your expression. Rapping your fingers on the glass, his attention was drawn to the male Sim in a white baseball cap.
"That's you. You work as a criminal and we live in this house together." Your boyfriend squinted, questioning your depiction of him and the state of the house.
"That's not how my hat looks, and you aren't that tall," he state plainly, honestly dying to burst out laughing. "And what the fuck is that thing in the purple clown suit?!" Flashing him some dangerous side eye, he gasped in a false astonishment. "That is not how Star looks!"
"That's how you described him to me. It's not my fault I'm not sensitive to spirits or Stands or whatever."
Jotaro was positively mortified at how you made his Stand look, but the fact you included him at all was heart warming even by his standards. Shoving into you, his hulking body almost flung you out of the chair.
"Right, mover over, Micro-Nugget." Snatching the computer mouse, he began to click round inaccurately, prompting some much-needed instruction from you. He finally managed to navigate out of the neighbourhood and into Create-a-Sim, beginning his two-hour job on Star Platinum. Four hours bickering later, his family was moved into your house, which had also undergone an Asian style overhaul, curtesy of Jotaro.

During the creative process, you had found yourself sat on his lap, snuggled into his armpit as he took over the mouse, truly engrossed in this competitive game of Sims.
"Why is your Star called Splat Kujo? His name is Star Platinum."
"Because who wants to say Star Platinum all the time?" Kujo mumbled under his breath since he knew damn well the lavender cloud monster adored you and fawned over you, even though you couldn't see him. "Oh my God, your Splat is fighting mine!"
"Yeah, let's see who wins, Single-Scoop." Since you had spent more time on the game, it was inevitable that your athletic Star Platinum would emerge victorious. The other cried, rubbing his backside in pain.
As night time rolled round, the dark-haired boy squinted at the screen, blue hues heavy in the artificial light. He'd delved so far into the game, you'd fallen asleep propped up against his chest and the desk, allowing him to truly experience the marvel that was the Sims by himself. Stretching, he noted the room had grown dark, checking his watch. It was just as well he didn't have a lecture that morning, since you looked so damn cute lucid deep on his lap. He didn't want to go through the bother of moving your sleeping form to the sofa, so he draped his coat over your body, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before indulging himself in more Sims.

The next morning, you woke up to a familiar smell, making you want to grab the sheets closer and bask in it. Your fingers swept over the material, but it wasn't your duvet. Opening your eyes, the image was hazy to begin with, until it cleared up into an ebony, spiked mess. Stirring a little, you realised the pair of you had passed out at the desk. Jotaro had obviously tried to rest his head on your arm, blissfully unaware that he'd fallen into your chest in the night. Raking a hand through his hair, he groaned raspily, throat still thick with sleep.
"Wake up, we fe—Oh my God I'm dying!" Cracking his eyes open, panic flooded his body. There seemed to be no danger, just you gesturing to screen with a pointed look on your face. It was true, your Sims was being checked out by the Grim Reaper as you spoke. Rubbing his eyes, with an audible yawn, Kujo just simpered.
"Whoops. Must have fallen asleep. Still, I don't understand how you got into your final life stage..." Surveying the desk, the brim of his hat had been resting on the number 3 key all night, meaning the entire time you were dead to the world, time in the Sims had been skipping at the fastest rate. Not only had he messed up your game, but he had forgotten to save it since you hadn't gotten that far in your instructions. "Wow, sorry Y/N. Looks like you'll have to make another." Pushing hard at his chest, he hissed in pain as you withdrew yourself from such close quarters.
"What? I spent five hours on that and you didn't even save it?!"
"It's just a game, you're like Kakyoin."
"Why don't you get up and play some real-life Sims. Order me a pizza and try telling that to the delivery boy!" Chuckling, he knew your temper would be short lived, even if he had just screwed up your new game.
"Yare yare, you're worse than Kakyoin."

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