#so it took about 5 hours to relearn

[graveilexxy]

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 9 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Words 5.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

The change was weird. A lasting sour taste in your mouth.

It was sudden too. His withdrawal from your life was instant.

Rather than how it was when you were temporarily sharing his room, he didn't wake you up and say goodbye. You thought that was just a morning after an argument thing, but it lasted. Going into the next week he even changed it more.

He no longer let you share your mornings, you had to relearn to use your own alarm quickly. Your schedules conflicted more than just that as well.

Lunch would no longer work, he switched his patrol times and took on meetings instead of leaving the space open for you.

Dinner wasn't really a thing anymore either. He stopped telling you when he'd be home, and after the first week of him not being home till late, you gave up. Throwing yourself into work as well. Changing your hours so you could sleep in more and get home later. Just to eat some leftovers he packed up for you, before turning in.

Words weren't really exchanged anymore and it was weird. You shared a room, and a bed, yet never saw each other awake.

It felt like a break up. In the simplest of terms. It wrecked you for a while. Felt like you were trudging along as you waited for him like a puppy.

You knew he held grudges but you've never expected him to turn it onto you.

You wanted to mourn the relationship but felt like it wasn't a right you had. He was still your boyfriend, you think. And you talked after you woke him up getting into bed. A quick conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. But the relationship back peddled to way before he got the watch. It felt like how it was after your first kiss in first year. Consuming yourselves with school to avoid the talk.

His mom still called often, nothing changed with how she spoke to you. Nothing changed outside your relationship with him and it was weird. You don't even know if your friends have noticed and it's been months.

It was nearing the end of October, the argument happened in the middle of August.

And none of your friends even blinked an eye. When Katsuki refused an invitation they assumed the normal, not surprised to see you at the bar without him. Mei didn't even notice. When you brushed off your change of work schedule and said he changed as well, she didn't ask another question. Thinking you were only glum because of the negative side of the internet. Fans bashing you at any corner possible.

It didn't bother you much, felt like a fly buzzing around you constantly but it was liveable.

Getting pestered for more interviews, people trying to get an inside look at Dynamight's home life. But you followed Shoto's PR manager's advice and chose to stay out of the limelight. Only interviewing when it was about your work.

Your work was your baby after all. Especially recently, it was hard to get you out of the office before two in the morning. Having more heroes come to you than before. It was exciting to see your career grow, you were just slightly annoyed that it was because of Katsuki that it grew. But a win was a win.

Everyone agreed with you on that, your friends closed down a bar for you, wanting to celebrate how many clients you had. You were getting article after article written about your work, being named as the second-best individual support tech in all of Japan. Because obviously, they'd have rankings for that as well.

A blush instantly covered your face when you walked into the bar, Mei pushing you forward. She dragged you out of the lab for once and convinced you to show face.

Kirishima is the first to tackle you in a hug, letting Mina do the same right after. "Congrats," he patted your shoulder as he pulled you more into the bar.

Most of Class A was there for you, celebrating you. Other pros you met along the way as well. People that you stayed in touch with since high school. Anyone you would want to be there was there.

"You guys shouldn't have," you smiled at the group, it was contagious. Denki had a derpy smile on him while Mina was bouncing around.

Kirishima laughed you off, "You needed it, been stuck in that lab and it paid off." You shrunk in on yourself when called out, you hadn't really been showing up that often to group outings. Not nearly as much as you used to.

"I got your favorite Cake!" Mina skipped towards you as best as she could. The cake was custom-made for you, having only the best flavors.

"It's not my birthday," you felt the need to point out, given the size of the celebration. And the candles that topped the cake.

"Might as well be," Mina pushed, "You're a new person! Officially number 2 in Japan!"

You did feel like a new person, you've changed a lot in the past two months.

"Come on," Mei teased over your shoulder, "Blow out the candles!"

"Make a wish!" Mina cheered, pushing the cake closer to you. And with the people you knew, they joined in. Cheering you on.

"They're gonna melt, y'know," Sero urged you once move.

"Fine," you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in the past couple of months. Thinking of nothing in particular as you blew out the candles, only looking around the crowd after. Noticing the lack of a certain blonde.

Rather than letting your shoulders slump too much, you let yourself fall into the cheer from your friends.

It was how you've done things since. You stopped waiting around for him, for the first time since you were kids. You pushed past him, not looking at every notification on your phone and hoping it was him. It didn't take Izuku this long to move beyond Katsuki, so you don't know why you let yourself take this long. Living behind him for so long.

You were pushed from conversation to conversation, catching up with people you haven't seen in a while and then talking with your closest friends. Being handed drink after drink in the process.

"You've been working a lot," Izuku commented when you finally made your way to him.

"Yeah," you nodded happily, "It's paid off."

He furrowed his brows, "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You haven't had a day off in months."

"Not true, I take a day off every week," you corrected him, not knowing where he got that idea. You took a day off every week, taking time to sleep the entire time.

"But-" he looked so confused, "Kacchan said you're not home, like ever."

"Oh," you understood the confusion now, "I switched my off days."

"Why?"

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into this conversation. Especially not with him and not now. You'd fall apart instantly. The feeling and pressure of your fragile relationship sitting on top of your chest. "Needed a change, you know how it is."

"I'm here for you, I know I'm busy but if you need anything I'm here," he was taking on the concerned best friend role, like usual.

"Z', I'm fine, really," you brushed off his concern, "Better than ever, my career is taking off, that's all that matters."

"That's not all that matter-"

"I need to go thank Mina and Mei again for setting this up," you excused yourself and walked through the slowly dying crowd. Meeting with the two pink-haired girls that were chatting near the food.

"Why do you look so drained?" Mei called out instantly, Mina slapping her shoulder right after.

"Social battery is just nonexistent right now," you lied, picking up a piece of food.

Mina looked around the bar, "It seems like it's just your close friends now, everyone else left by now."

You sighed in relief, you wanted to go home somewhat. Yet you didn't want to go back to him.

"Hey, Mei," you got her attention, "Can I spend the night?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "Thought your social battery was dead though?"

"Friends don't count," you contradicted yourself and just prayed they wouldn't call you on it.

"Still, you never ask," Mei pointed out.

"I'm a new person," you grabbed another piece of food, filling your mouth so you couldn't be asked anymore.

"If you're mad at Bakugo for not showing up I wouldn't blame you." Mina spoke softly, "Dick move of him honestly."

"He's busy, it's fine," you defended him without another thought.

"No it's not, how many award shows have you been to for him?" Mei joined in. It felt nice they had your back, but it wasn't necessary.

You sighed, "I'm used to it. I'll have plenty more so it's fine."

Mina and Mei shared a look, not wanting to give in and forgive him as easily as you do, but not wanting to put you down either. "You're welcome to stay at mine," Mei finished the conversation.

A small gasp left Mina's mouth, eyes widening. "Bag of dicks is here," Mei groaned.

You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, seeing Katsuki for the first time awake in a while. Seeing Kirishima and Denki crowd him instantly. Greeting him warmly as you stood there. "I need a drink," you twisted your direction to head to the bar. Tonight was going to be a good night, not another about him.

Looking at him was too much, it hurt at first. Knowing your last real conversation was an argument. One where he threatened to take sex away from you, when he actually took everything him away. Just because you didn't want him to die for a stupid reason. It hurt to see everything on his side was fine.

It pissed you off. He was acting the same as you were, sure, but you would have gone to his award show. You would have been the first one there. Yet here he was, the last person to show after most left.

The bartender was quick to hand you a drink, watching and replacing it after you downed it all. You've been steadily drinking all night but a new buzz would help. Help the anger that was brewing over you.

You turned around when you had your second drink, wanting to sip on this one instead. Only getting more upset when he was still talking to his friends. Not even sparing you a glance. You let your head fall at this point, watching your shoes as you tapped your feet.

Any thought other than him would help, this wasn't about him. It shouldn't be.

For the past two months, you've been doing everything alone, and it's shown it's worth it. This was just another event that you had to get through. You'd just have to deal with him standing on the sidelines for once.

You saw Uraraka's white shoes before she spoke, "Do you want to join the group?"

When you looked up you saw that people pushed tables together, all of them sitting down together. How you didn't hear them move everything was surprising. Once you got rid of the shock, you turned back to her, "Yeah sure."

She smiled warmly, linking her arm with yours as she walked to the table with you. Sitting down next to you after you took your spot at the head of the table, next to him, unfortunately. You kept your body turned away from him, focusing on talking with her. The two of you didn't get to talk often after all. But you liked her nonetheless, she was the embodiment of welcoming.

The side conversations easily merged into one big conversation. You looked over the group as you leaned back in your chair. Sero was laughing as Denki rambled, Mei and Mina encouraging the conversation while Kirishima tried to reel it back in. Izuku was smiling fondly at the group, the same as Shoto. It was all your closest friends, it made you feel warm.

"It is not just a high school thing," Denki pointed at Sero laughing, "you're just mad that you couldn't." You were easily confused by his outburst, not having a clue what the conversation was about.

"No Nut November is like a middle school joke," Sero stated back.

"What is that?" Shoto asked, confused.

Denki and Sero started laughing, forcing Mina to explain, "It's a thing guys do, a challenge of not nutting for the full month of November."

"Nutting?" Shoto asked again.

"You're kidding!" Denki wheezed.

"Cumming," Kirishima answered, face cringing at the conversation. Everyone cringed besides Denki and Sero, who were too busy laughing.

"Why would you do that though?" Shoto was trying to piece together the concept.

"Only idiots do," Katsuki cut in. It was the first time you heard his voice so clearly all night.

Not being given a chance to soak in his voice, Denki starts defending the idea again, "You're only saying that cause you couldn't last that long."

"I could," Katsuki bit back, wanting to win at anything challenged.

"Please," Sero started teasing as well, "Bakugo you'd last a day."

"How the fuck would you know?"

"You either get some daily or never," Sero pointed out, "I'm falling on the likelihood of daily, knowing your girlfriend."

"Okay," you slapped your hands on the table, "Enough of that conversation."

Mina booed at you, having enjoyed the guys bickering.

"Thank god," you heard Izuku whisper in relief.

"I think I'm going to head out," you announced, standing up and giving Mei a nod so she knew she should get ready. You were thankful the bar was already nearly clean, no help was needed.

You looked down at Katsuki when you heard his keys, the sound familiar to you.

"Did you drive here?" Katsuki asked you, looking back up at you.

"Uh-" you looked at Mei, "I didn't."

"Need a ride back home?" he offered, standing up next to you.

It hurt to decline him, but you didn't want anything to do with him, not tonight.

"Ready?" Mei joined you by your side.

You looked between the two before settling on Katsuki, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Mei's." Any hope he had in his eyes left, face dropping in the slightest bit. You didn't notice the look he held until it was gone.

He looked like he got his heart ripped out and stomped on, but so did you.

"Look, if this is about me showing up late, I'm-"

A surprised laugh left your lips, it was mean. And the look on his face showed that he felt that it was mean as well. "This isn't about you Katsuki," you put it bluntly. It wasn't about him, tonight wasn't about him. You wanted to keep a good mood, and going home with him wouldn't do that.

You didn't give him the chance to reply before you grabbed onto Mei, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Going through all the goodbyes.

---

Mei and you shared the same horrible sleep schedule. She grabbed some wine as she let you collapse on her couch and turned the TV onto something for background noise the second you got to her apartment.

She handed you a glass before she sat down next to you, beer in her own hand. "I got to ask now, you know that right?"

You groaned, taking a sip of your wine, "Hit me with the questions." Avoidance wouldn't last in a small setting and you knew that.

"What the hell happened between you guys?"

"We're having a rough spot right now," you answered simply, shuffling further into the couch.

"That much is obvious."

"Fine," you gave in, taking a deep breath to give an actual answer, "I haven't really talked to him for two months."

Mei's face drained of all color, "What?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass.

"Are you broken up?" Mei reached a hand to rest on your forearm.

"No, at least," you thought for a second, "I don't think we are."

"How are you with someone you haven't talked to in months?"

"I don't know," you mumbled.

"What type of argument could have caused that?"

You wanted to laugh out of frustration, looking back on it was painful and stupid to you. Yet you were still so mad. "Y'know how I made him that watch?" she nodded, "Well, he asked me to make the watch for the reasons you thought. And he was fully relying on it. Having his quirk off every time he was next to me."

"Can't that kill you?" Mei asked.

"Yes, so I told him that and he turned it into a massive thing. I asked him to take it off, and he said no, so I told him I wouldn't touch him when he had his quirk off. Now we just don't talk," you explained quickly, chest tightening.

"But you're still dating?" you could tell she was trying to be sensitive to the situation.

All you could do was shrug, "I still share a bed with him, so I'm assuming yes."

"How come you don't talk to him?"

"I tried the first week, but when he changed his schedule around to avoid me, I did the same."

"So that's why-"

"Yeah, it's done a lot of good for me though. I've finally grown a lot more. My career is at a high and it's only up from now. I'm no longer just in his shadow. Honestly, I'm thankful for the fight. I finally feel like an adult. I don't need anyone to get me where I am and it's refreshing," you admitted. A lot of good has come from it, and you weren't going to ignore it.

"But you love him?" Mei asked, trying to make sure.

"Of course, he just isn't my life."

"You're not going to try for him? You have been each other's since you were five," Mei worded slowly.

"I'm not reaching out to someone who doesn't want me, Mei," you looked at her, firm on what to do about everything. It was already settled before but now you've actually said it. "I don't know why it took me forever to realize, I wish I did when Izuku did. I would be a lot further in life."

"You already are far in life, you're not even twenty and your 2nd best support tech-"

"I could have been first-"

"No," Mei shook her head, "I'm sorry to say it, but you're only this far because of him. Because of your friends."

"Mei-"

"I'm not wrong, you've been given endless support. Without that? You would still be fumbling behind everyone else. You can't get anywhere in life solely on your own."

"Well, it wasn't only him," you pointed out. You agreed with her, your friends helped a lot.

"It was majority him," she pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, "Don't you somewhat hate him?"

"I still know he's good for you, and if your entire relationship goes to shit over this, I'm not letting myself be a part of it. Is he an asshole for showing up late? Yes, fuck him for that. Is he a dick for throwing a fit about kissing and not talking to you? Absolutely. But he is also the man who loves you the most, he's been there for you so many times. Are you going to throw that away?"

"I'm not throwing shit away, he is," you defended yourself, tears lining your eyes.

"Your not even trying-"

"I shouldn't have to," you stood up, "I tell him everything while he keeps himself away. I'm fucking done. If he wants me, he needs to tell me."

"What are you doing?" Mei questioned, seeing you grab your things.

"Leaving," you said firmly.

"You don't have a car-"

"I'll walk," you spit out, slamming the door to her apartment as you left. Breaking down when in the elevator. You wanted tonight to be about you, about your success. Yet as always, it turned out to be about him. You thought you'd grown out of being only mentioned because of him.

You walked on uneasy footing until you got out of her block. She was your best friend and she didn't even understand. It made you wish you talked to Izuku.

The street lamps lit up your bag as you looked for your phone. Glancing at the time before you dialed his number. His sleep was fucked up too, so you weren't worried about waking him up

"Are you okay?" was the first thing he said, full of concern. It was 3 in the morning after all.

"No," you choked on a sob, choosing to lean on a wall rather than continue walking. You didn't even know where to walk.

"What's going on? Do I need to get you-"

"I'm safe," you cleared up your throat, "I'm just struggling."

"Why?"

"Katsuki and I are in a rough patch, Mei doesn't get my side on it, and I can't turn to him," you rambled, "I just don't know what to do."

"Just breathe right now, you're going to get worse if you continue like this," he counted for you to follow. Performing his hero script as he calmed you down.

You let yourself sit on the concrete, leaning your back onto a random building as you rested your head on your knees.

"Okay," you whispered into the phone, "Katsuki and I haven't talked in two months."

Izuku was a rambler but he was also a good listener. Letting you get out any detail you needed before even opening his mouth. So you told him everything, leaving out any sex-related things. Telling him Katsuki used the watch to hug you or kiss you, so a truth in the cover-up. He could draw up that conclusion on his own.

"I was just thinking that maybe you'd understand," you finished, "I'm just so tired of reaching out to him."

"I get it," he started, "Probably the only one that does. He locks himself off and just expects you to come chasing for him. And the second you don't, he throws a fit. You should let him, I know it's hard, but he needs to grow up as well. You told him your concern and he locked you out, he needs to be the one to let you back in."

You sighed in relief, "So I'm doing the right thing?"

"Yes, especially in a relationship. It shouldn't be so one-sided with communication. You come a long way in the past months, and he should acknowledge that. I love you both, and I hope you guys work past it, but if it doesn't then it's for the best," he spoke to you like a brother would. You didn't even notice when the dynamic between the two of you flipped. Him going from acting like a younger brother to the older brother.

"Thank you," you sniffled, trying to dry the tears that have been working down your face, "Mei thinks I'm throwing everything away."

"He's the one that pushed you out, he's throwing it away," Izuku pointed out. You hummed in agreement, looking down at your phone.

"Holy fuck," the time surprised you, it was nearing five in the morning, and it was a Saturday. You were thankful that the city wasn't awake yet. "I need to get home."

"You're not home?!" he squeaked into the phone, "Where are you?"

"I don't know," you answered honestly, standing upright and stretching your limbs out.

"What?!"

"I'll start walking home now," you tried to calm him down.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"I'm fine Izuku, I'm maybe a block away from home," that seemed to calm him down. He let you hang up the phone, telling you to text him when you were home.

You were glad to have a hoodie at this point, pulling the hood up to hide your tear-streaked face as you walked back home. Needing the ten-minute walk to calm down. Think for yourself.

While you fully agreed with Izuku, you also saw Mei's point of view. She wanted you happy, and you were happy with Katsuki. You didn't want to break up with him, you loved him fully. But if he couldn't meet you halfway, you weren't going to rush to fill that emptiness he left. You'd rather move on to better things. Maybe find someone who would.

With your head hung low the entire walk back to your apartment, you didn't even notice you were in the elevator until it opened on your floor. Having walked all the way on a full autopilot. Thinking of your relationship that overtook one of the biggest days of your career.

You opened your door with a sigh, throwing your keys on the shelf before turning into the kitchen for some water. Filling up a glass before you walked to the basket of blankets in the corner of the living room.

The second you turned around to walk to the couch you dropped your glass. A shocked scream left your lips when you saw Katsuki sitting there in the dark.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, confused as to why he was sitting in the dark and not in his room.

"I was sleeping," he answered.

"Here?" you shot back, bending down to pick up the broken glass.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Mei's?"

You squeezed your hand in annoyance, only noticing the burn of the cut then.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you turned his concern down, throwing away the broken glass when you walked into the kitchen. Thankful that it broke into big pieces rather than small. You ran your hand underwater as you ignored him.

"You're bleeding," it was clear he was groggy with sleep.

"No shit," you answered plainly.

"Fuckin' c'mere," he moved near you, trying to grab your hand only to get swatted away.

"I can take care of myself," you snapped at him, moving to grab a paper towel, trying to dry up the small cut.

"Think I don't fucking know that?" he asked back, agitated at your reactions to him. You waited for the bleeding to stop before throwing away your trash and grabbing a bandaid to cover the small cut to your finger.

You shrugged, "Never know with you. Never tell me anything. Don't know what you know or don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I-" you sighed, you didn't want to get into it, "Nothing, I'm tired." You walked past him again, grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch.

"You're sleeping down here?"

"Yeah, go to bed Katsuki," you turned away from him.

"Kats," he said softly, making you turn to face him again.

"What?"

"You stopped calling me Kats, it's only this Katsuki bullshit now."

"Whatever, Katsuki," you dismissed without thinking, turning back over as you tried to forget how he looked just then. It's how he looked at the party, just ten times worse.

"What happened to us?"

You didn't bother to reply, it was clear he wanted you to do the talking. But if he wanted to actually talk, he had to first.

"This," he paused, silence filling the air before he cleared his throat only for his voice to crack regardless, "This isn't what I want."

"You never told me what you wanted," you couldn't help but reply.

"I'm not good at this type of shit," he was angry at himself but you wouldn't fall into this pity party for himself. "I didn't think you'd change your schedule."

"You changed yours."

"I only did that because I needed to think," he defended.

"For two months?"

"I switched it back after but you weren't home, and haven't been since."

"So you couldn't have called? Asked me when I did get home at night? Woke me up in the morning to talk?"

"You could have done the same."

"I always do that Katsuki," you turned to face him, "I'm always the one fucking chasing you. And I'm done."

He choked, "You're done?"

"I'm done chasing after you," you clarified, "I've met you halfway, time after time, you just need to do the same."

Silence buzzed around the living room. The two of you were just staring at each other. Both are equally heartbroken. You looked him over for the first time in months.

"You're still wearing the watch," you pointed out, seeing the gleam of it on his wrist.

"You gave it to me," he replied, "I haven't used it since, by the way."

"Good."

He took a shaky breath in, "I'm so fucking sorry, Brains." You waited for him to continue, "You were right, I wasn't using it just as a crutch. I was completely relying on it." It hurt to hear it from him, you already knew it was true. "I, fuck," he ran his hand over his face, "I went to the doctor too, they said if I used it that much it'd kill me. Having my quirk completely off."

You couldn't be more glad about the fight now, knowing it kept him from killing himself. Sure it wouldn't kill him immediately, but over time it would just get worse and worse for his health.

"Once I found out you were right, I just couldn't bear the thought. I don't feel safe around you without my quirk dampened and now I can't," he admitted, "I feel my quirk just with this conversation. I don't want to hurt you."

"You were late to the party," you pointed out instead, "You never even congratulated me."

He hung his head, "I got sidetracked with trying to get a gift- but I was going to congratulate you at home."

"Doesn't excuse it."

"I know, I'm sorry," he reached into his pocket, "I got this for you though." He tossed the small bag at you.

You gave him an unsure look before opening it, first seeing a sticker of "World's Best Tech" an inside joke between the two of you. He hated the idea of #1 mugs and things like it, claiming he was better than everyone else. The next was just a small necklace, something easy to wear with everything.

"It doesn't make up for shit, and that's not what I'm trying to do with it," he said after you stared at the gift for a while.

"I know," you spoke softly, the gift was thoughtful for your relationship.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, I knew you could do it," he followed.

Tears were hitting your eyes harder than before. Despite claiming you didn't need him. You wanted to hear him say that so bad.

You saw him move to get up when he saw your tears, sitting back down and grabbing his own hands when he decided against it. You patted the seat next to you. As long as his watch wasn't on, you were okay. He rushed immediately to your side, tugging you into a hug before he could overthink.

"I should have talked to you a lot sooner," he spoke into your hairline, leaving a kiss on your forehead after.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you like this," he said softly.

You pulled back from him, "What do you mean?"

"Can't hug you and shit," he grumbled, pulling you back into him. Not wanting you to see his face.

You sat in silence for a while, soaking in his words and the perspective he likely had the past two months. He could have thought you stopped talking to him because he couldn't touch you anymore.

"I'm not mad that you can't touch me, I'm upset that you don't talk to me, in general," you spoke just as softly as he did, wanting to comfort him the way he was comforting you.

He let out a breath of relief, "It's gotten worse without you around."

"What did?"

"My quirk just goes off without you now, just the thought freaks me out enough. Fuckin' annoying," he confessed.

"Is it going to go off soon?" you wanted to be prepared to be pushed away from him. If he did it unannounced you'd likely cry. He just squeezed you closer.

"No," he said quietly, "It's finally calmed the fuck down."

-Next Part-

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[oddest-oddish]

Entspannen

Generally, I'm an original fiction writer, but writer's block has me looking for another outlet, so here we are with a short piece, featuring a tired Felix and an introspective Ace.

Five years ago, if someone had told Ace he'd be awake at five in the morning to watch a game of football, he'd have asked how big the bet was. Sports betting wasn't his favorite, but for the right stakes, he could pretend to be a morning person for the day. If that someone had told him he'd be watching a football game with no money on the line, purely for enjoyment, at five am, in Germany he would have laughed.

Well, scratch that. If this hypothetical situation had happened five years ago, Ace would have been elated. An early morning on the other side of the world would be preferable to his current situation, spending his time running from monstrous creatures and living amongst similar victims between deadly encounters. He would have been skeptical, but maybe a little hopeful.

Ten years ago, if Ace had been told about his future in front of the television, then he would have laughed. Five, he'd have been happy to hear it. Now? He's downright amazed.

Here he was, sitting alone in a comfortable living room in southern Germany. The clock above the fireplace read 5:03, and a football match was underway. Ace was happy.

Ace had been surprised at how easy it was to fall back in love with the sport he used to admire as a kid. He'd found that Argentinian games could be streamed live, all the way in Coburg, and had started watching them in his free time. With his husband at work, he certainly had a lot of free time, especially when he was new to the country and had yet to make friends or find things to do. His hometown team was still one of the stronger ones, and Ace relearned that sports could be fun to watch, even without money on the line.

Ace yawned again and pulled his blanket further up his chest as he settled in on the couch: a massive L-shaped thing that Ace had originally balked at getting. It was simply too much couch for the two of them. But Felix had convinced him otherwise, and Ace had come to enjoy being able to put his feet up while facing the TV.

Ace found his mind wandering as the game began, drifting to the man sleeping upstairs. It had been only a couple years since the Entity had freed them. Ace expected his relationship with Felix to end when they left that realm, but Felix had surprised him, choosing to stay by his side. Now, they were living together in Germany, a fate Ace never would have expected, neither five nor ten years ago. How had he become so lucky? Maybe it was the universe apologizing for sending him into that realm in the first place; letting him leave with a much brighter life ahead.

Footsteps in the hallway behind him pulled Ace out of his thoughts. He glanced to his right and Felix entered the room. His hair had been mussed up and heavy bags jutted out beneath his eyes. He wore a pair of green flannel pajama pants and an old gray t-shirt just tight enough for Ace to admire his pecs, as the material clung to his upper body. Any other time, Ace would have been thrilled to see him.

Now however, was different. "What are you doing down here, love? You gotta go back to bed," Ace said, careful not to let his frustration strain his gentle tone. While a 5 am wake up wasn't unreasonable for Felix under normal circumstances, Felix had just spent the last four days cooped up in his office racing to finish his newest proposal. He'd been so busy working on his newest design, an expansion to an art museum in Munich, that the hours of sleep he'd gotten in the last three days could be counted on two hands.

When Felix returned to work, he'd slipped into his old routine; he stayed up too late and worked himself to the bone more often than not. He took meals in his home office and sometimes forgot to sleep. Ace knew that Felix was using his work as a release for the trauma the Entity had left behind, but still, he was getting lonely, and it hurt to see Felix working himself miserable.

After one too many nights alone Ace had finally sat down with Felix and asked him to lower his hours. After a long conversation that ended with tears and "i love you"s from the both of them, Felix had promised to work things out.

The issue was that architects have nothing if not an inconsistent schedule. Felix had explained to Ace that with different deadlines depending on the project, the amount of paperwork and reports that had to be done, and the different contractors and businesses he had to coordinate with, a set number of hours a week or a daily schedule was impossible. But he cut back on the number of projects he managed, delegating more to the different members of his firm. His business partner, Lauren, had been relieved to see Felix ease up on his work, even sending Ace an expensive bottle of wine as a thank you for "knocking some sense into him." Felix and Ace had settled into the best routine they could manage. When deadlines approached, Felix would still be extremely busy, but in between projects, he'd find time to wind down, and spend time with Ace. They'd found a comfortable pattern that worked for the both of them.

At least, it should be working. Because Ace knew that Felix had crawled into bed at midnight the night before, having send the last of the files over to the client. And after half of week of exhausting work, he certainly should not be downstairs. Ace had half a mind to drag him back upstairs himself.

"Babe, you promised you'd get some sleep after this. Please tell me you're not putting more on your plate," Ace continued, worry starting to slip into his words.

Felix brushed his concerns aside with a wave of a hand and crossed the room towards the couch. He picked up a large tan blanket on the way before making his way to where Ace sat. With a low grumble, he laid down on the couch, curling up on a ball perpendicular to Ace, laying his head in Ace's lap.

All at once, Ace was reminded of just how adorable Felix was when he was tired. He relaxed as Felix got comfortable beside him, relieved that he wasn't about to go do any more work. "Alrighty then, happy to have some company," he said, bringing one hand into Felix's short hair, absentmindedly rubbing his scalp.

"Missed you," said Felix. His eyes were closed and his breathes heavy as he spoke.

"I missed you too, but I'm glad you got everything done, love. Those sketches you showed me looked like some of your best yet. And Lauren's got someone to oversee the next couple stages, so we've got a few days to catch up." As Ace spoke, Felix grabbed at his free hand and squeezed it gently.

"Mm-hmm." Ace deciphered the hum as a yes and turned back to the game. Two players were arguing with the referee who held a red card in his hands. Well shit; losing a player this early would make things very difficult for his team. However, Ace didn't mind too much- seeing Felix curled up with him made it hard to be angry.

"Should I mute it?" he asked quietly. "Don't need to hear it to know what's going on." Felix just shook his head. Ace felt a rush of relief, especially because the remote was sitting on the coffee table out of reach, and getting up now would be downright cruel to both of them.

The game resumed on screen and Ace focused on it once again. Beneath him, Felix's breathing evened out as he fell asleep. Ace smiled. He could get used to this.

At halftime, the match was scoreless. Ace carefully pulled his phone out of his pocket, careful not to jostle Felix too much. He answered messages from Jeff and Jonah before opening the phone's camera. He made sure the flash and the shutter sound were both off before holding his phone up, pointing it down, and snapping a picture.

The quality wasn't great, but that wasn't important. The light of the television illuminated the left half of Felix's face. The tension in his expression had loosened, and he looked more at ease than he'd been in a week. Ace smiled down at him as a warm feeling stirred up in his chest. Love.

While stuck in the Entity's Realm, this feeling had always been accompanied with a pang of guilt. Ace never should have been so happy about the situation. He and Felix never should have met, let alone get together. The man had a girlfriend and a child on the way; he didn't deserve to be pulled out of his life and thrown into hell alongside Ace. In a kinder world, Felix never would have heard of Ace.

But the world was cruel enough to push them together, so they made something out of it. Ace was grateful to Felix for choosing him in the Entity's realm, but the feeling that they didn't belong there, didn't belong together, never went away.

Now though, they weren't looking over their shoulders, awaiting their next trial. Now they had real food, electricity, and indoor plumbing. Sleep didn't always come easy with the lingering nightmares, but when it did, there was a clean, warm bed instead of whatever dry ground they could find. And the love certainly came easy, without the feeling of guilt lingering in the back of Ace's mind.

When the second half starts, Ace turns his attention back to the screen. By some miracle, the game remains scoreless, despite the penalty the team is facing. While Ace is happy to see his team hanging on, he's mostly glad for the tie because going into overtime means he gets to stay here with Felix for another half hour.

Halfway through the overtime period, Ace's favorite player scored a goal. Instinctively, he jolted up in excitement, startling Felix in the process. His husband gasped as he woke up, looking around in confusion.

"Shit, I'm sorry about that," Ace said. He'd really hoped Felix would stay asleep for longer.

"Mmm, it's alright," said Felix, squinting at the television. He made no motion to get up, just rolled onto his side so he could see the game. "I do not want to change my sleeping schedule by a lot."

"Right 'cause getting up at 7 in the morning is normal for you." Ace sighed dramatically, with no real frustration. Some things never changed, and their opposing sleep schedules were likely one of them. Normally, by the time Ace saw Felix in the morning, he'd been up for a few hours, having gotten dressed and ready for the day. So in these rare opportunities, Ace reveled in seeing his husband sleepy and at ease. The cuddles were a nice bonus too.

The game ended 1-0 shortly after, but neither man made a move to get up or reach for the remote. Felix dozed off again and Ace pulled him closer, held him a little tighter. Eventually, Ace would get restless and Felix would get hungry. They'd have to move eventually. But for now, Ace could just sit here, holding the man he loved. For now, they could just be.

Thanks for reading. I really enjoyed writing these two together, and if anyone has any requests, I'm always looking for story ideas. More to come I hope, both between these two and some original works of my own.

[dxitydoo]

Another update on my crochet FE3H Golden Deer banner

Hello again, dear friends.

It has been a few months. I would love to say I’ve been busy but truthfully I haven’t.

But I’m back!

I started off by continuing, and subsequently finishing, the zig zags. (Which, because it’s been so long since I last touched this project, did require me to relearn how to do said zigzag. On an unrelated note, it’s a fun lil pattern and I may yet make a bigger project made entirely out of zigzags).

(Please excuse the slightly awkward picture, I only took a pic of the zig zag process on instagram so I’ve cropped out the text)

(In case you’re wondering, yes I am sitting on the floor in that pic. Why? Because I was in a freezing cold church and the only warmth was coming from the grates in the floor)

Next came the attaching of the zig zags!

I laid it all out and used some stitch markers to hold it in place so I could see how it looked.

Then I began the somewhat tedious process of filling in the gaps. (Tedious mostly because the zig zags would flop around and get in the way and make everything ten times harder).

One zig zag down.

Two zig zags down.

And, unfortunately for me, this was the moment I realised I’d fucked up somewhat.

See, the pattern has a fifth colour that it uses to go around the entire thing to create a sort of border.

What I had forgotten until this very moment was that the border was also meant to go inbetween the zigzag section and the main section.

Unfortunately, I had already cut the wool for the two sections and had sewn in some of the ends so I couldn’t easily unpick it.

I decided to press bravely onwards and attempt to sew in the extra border later. How?, you may ask. Um… I’ll work it out?

By this point, my hands were also starting to ache like nobody’s business. I’d been crocheting for about 5 hours by this point and my hands were beginning to protest.

But I was so close. I was almost desperate to at least finish attaching the zig zags.

After a short dinner break, I finally finished zig zag numero 3:

And then, because I clearly hadn’t quite learnt my lesson yet, and high off the serotonin from completing a section, I decided to keep going.

I began sewing the border I’d forgotten in as sewing was easier on my hands than crocheting. But then I got bored so I switched to beginning to crochet the border to go around the whole thing.

It is here where I finally decided enough was enough.

My hands are a smidgen painful now ngl (even typing this they’re aching) so… yeah… stopping for tonight might be an idea.

But!

It’s so close to being done!

And its starting to look really really good if I may say so myself.

Still left to do:

the top bit (which is the same colour as the zig zags)

finish the border (which also goes around all sides of the top bit, hence why I started it already)

finish sewing the zig zag border

add details?

breathe a sigh of relief that I actually finally managed to finish something

But, for now, ima go to bed.

[sir-arlieosaurus-lung-struggler]

the holidays are always really fucking weird, i dont like many of them but specifically December is just- ew

Anyway ill just thro my mini pitty party real quick:

These song explains how I feel about christmas time *perfectly*

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas by mother mother (christmas playlist)

From heres basically a trauma dump about being in the hospital, but i typically talk about this in a tone more like "oh yea! i nearly died lmao"

When i was like, just turning 6 I had 💫pneumonia💫 & needed to go to the 💫hospital💫. So I spent like, 12/11-31/15 in the hospital. along the way i had these treats happen (not really in order, 💜=story from family member, ❤=i actually remember this)

💜being diagnosed by my sisters 16 yo boyfriend by looking at my gums, whereas medical staff took 4 days

❤Some mcdonalds, cool auntys banana bread, jello & making popin cookin sets w/ my older sister

💜a 5 day medically induced coma

lung surgery therefor cool fuckin scars on my back (WHICH I CANT FUCKING SHOW ANYONE CAUSE I WAS CURSED W/ TITS AND 2/3 ARE UNDER MY BRA)

💜waking up from said coma periodically only to say "im scared" w/ my mom trying to comfort me but i had ear shit going on

💜Finnaly actually woke up, yelled "IM DEAD", which is reportadly the scariest shit my dad has ever heard, my mom asks if i hurt, i say yes, she like "ur not dead honey" again i was 6 & in & out of a coma 😂 (idk why but I've always found that story funny)

💜my parents being thretened w/ truancy by my dumbass school

❤Christmas, I had *2* mini christmas trees in my hospital room 💅 1 was cool but my cool uncle & aunty got me a pink 1 which I still have to this day as a lamp

💜only trusting 1 of my doctors cause he looked like my grandfather who'd been deceased for 2years at that point

❤💜going on walks around the kids floor in a wheelchair & stealing a little gingerbread beanie baby ornament but they didnt care so they just let me keep it & i still have it somehwere.

💜my mom met a lady who had a son who was a few months old & they didnt expect to live past a couple weeks but he *did* (more on that later)

💜had food in the cafeteria and i proceeded to rub the pizza i got *into my hair*. My response? "Its just cheese" my family and I quote that to this day lmao.

💜being reverted to a toddler for a good minute (someone asked my age i said i was 3, i was not) & needing to relearn walking, talking, the little bit of reading i knew & getting into a shower w/out being scared of being pulled down the drain

❤said dude who asked my age worked at the hospital cafeteria & we visited him after most of my appointments. miss u uncle (that was what he went by), wish u well. Dont know where he since covid cause the part of the building cafeteria was in was torn down.

❤and after all that later and i got releaced on new years eve :>

results:

From there forward i had a 20-30minute nebulizer to do every 4 hours (which my parents had to wake up at like 2am for a half hour for), 2 twice daily inhailers, 2 nasil sprays, "the tire" (tastes like shit and makes me feel anxious) (that isnt even all of it my mom counted 8 meds at one point) and i slowly dropped them year by year till they had me down to just rescue inhailer as needed & if my lungs r really shit for a min i go on the tire. (Tire=prednisolone but what 6 year old is remembering that name lol)

specialist appointments every week, then 2 weeks, then every month, 3 months, 6 months, now im at checkup every year and check in as needed

"Look whos inside again" by bo burnham is my life in a nutshell

To this day the smell of a consentrated area of hand sanatizer just has me stop in my tracks lol.

seeing a picture of tiny me on my parents facebook feed yearly of me unconscious in a hospital bed w/ tubes in mah face

couple of close friend i met post hospital (keep in mind i was like 7) didn't believe me so i ran around the playground cursing them the fuck out (never did get in trouble for that 😂) ((I still talk to 1 of them shes cool))

Idk where to put this but about that kid I was talking about before, I found out last year around this time he had just died- of 💫pneumonia💫. yea that fucked me up for a good minute, he was around 6 too which didn't help, I never even met the kid and I still had a weird form of survivors guilt.

Anyway have a merry fucking christmas i really dont get this holiday lol, treat yourself kindly, feel free to be the grinch you are and explain in detail why u hate the holidays u arent alone lol

[allthingsfern]

My 2022 Top 5 (kinda)

This year was challenging in unexpected ways. With COVID lockdowns over, I thought my life would get back to some kind of normal routine, one that would include lots of photographing and some travel. Well, it started that way, but then in early May I fractured my arm and since then, my life has been about disruption, disorientation, adapting, balancing, surviving, healing, thriving. Even now, in the late hours of the 30th of December, 2022 (which, BTW, marks my 28th year of moving to California), after I returned from 18 days with family and friends in Florida, I am still going through all kinds of changes and discoveries and rethinking life.

What a year.

Looking back, I started the year taking photographs around my apartment, seeing my daily environment in different ways. A couple of times I even participated in the monthly Abstract Challenge. Now I see that my explorations of my everyday surroundings back then, before my fracture, are pointing to how I am going to approach this coming year: I am relearning photography, not the technical aspects, but how I do it, approach what I see, process what I capture. This relearning is especially significant because my physical limitations during most of this year, unexpected events, and my emotional state of ambivalence and disconnect have resulted in my taking very few photographs. (For example: during my recent stay in Florida with my family, I only took about 25 photos in all. I only used my camera 2 times. I was completely uninspired to use it and events and family gatherings that I expected were canceled.) For me, the post process is central to what I do; I love to manipulate my images, and this last year I learned a lot about how to enhance and alter my photos.

Bottom line: I am not certain where my photography is going from here on, but I am looking forward to traveling the new, unexplored, sometimes winding and hidden road facing me now.

I mean, what the fuck? After all, from when I started doing photography seriously 10 years ago, this has all been about exploration and sometimes fucking up royally and learning from my mistakes (and sharing my mistakes and what I learned), so in a real, tangible way, this new journey is simply a continuation of my already traveled journey.

So, here are my 2022 Top 5.

Packaging II: 2022-01 Abstract Challenge: Davis, 16.01.22.

What’s in my abstract (and a little messy) kitchen IV. Davis, 03-06-22.

Twig, spots, concrete. Davis, 04-20-22.

Fan. Davis, 05-03-22.

Shady motorcycle cover, II. Davis, 08-28-22.

[buffer-subroutine]

Defects, this is probably going to be the only time ever that I post something bummer like this, but I feel as though I can't keep it bottled up anymore. Only read if you're not easy to make sad.

I miss having a future, Defects. I really do. The moment I got seizures, my entire life flipped from almost being complete into stepping into an amazing phase of my life, having completed college and using the skills I was insanely (and rightfully) confident and sharp in. Fuck, I was amazing.

Then boom. Stress-enduced seizures. Trapped inside due to covid lockdown too. Family and College - two insane stressors, now dangerous for me. I lost so much from that.

I had to move out early and never got to finish the degree I spent *two years of my life* working toward.

Even if I pick it up now, I'm pretty sure most of my credits have expired. I'm fucked, and I owe student loans now, too, on top of barely making enough money to live, so I get to just be more terrified and hopeless every second watching the interest keep piling up. And I can't get a job that pays well because of a STUPID PIECE OF FUCKING PAPER.

I WAS EXCELLENT AND WOULD HAVE BEEN GREAT AT IT BUT NOONE GIVES A RATS ASS WITHOUT THE PAPER.

Now here I am, living on my own in IT because it was an easy fallback that was supposed to be temporary.

I don't like this, Defects.

You, Defects, as well as my loved ones online are... Well, the only things that I look forward to each day.

I keep trying to get better. To dig myself out of this pit. I started hormones finally - and I am so happy about it, so I guess I have a third thing since it's helping me feel a little more, well, girl.

But I sure as fuck don't quite resemble one beyond the cute eyeliner and hair. I wear a purse recently, which helps. But I feel like a fake.

I can't escape facial hair. No matter how much I shave, it's so fucking thick and grows so fast that even if I got it completely smooth, it'd just regrow and be visible in maybe a couple hours at most.

I want to program again, Defects. I want to make games. I want to have a future and go back to my original goals. I want to make games and make people happy.

I want some of it back. Any of it back.

It fucking hurts.

I can't even get myself to program. No matter what I do, I can't get myself to just... Do it. I will install the editor and go through all the setup and... Be overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the new ui, by having to relearn so much. By NOT BEING ABLE TO DO THE ONE THING I SPENT MY LIFE LEARNING. It really is a use it or lose it skill I guess. And I have not been using it Defects.

It's almost like a fear of acceptance too, I think. Deep down inside, I know I still have some of it left. I bet I can relearn, even if I will fucking suck. Even if I will never get it back fully.

I want that so much. Please. I don't know how to start. I don't know what to do. I touch the editor and try to do stuff and it won't fucking compile. I can't get the header dependencies right.

I can't remember how to do anything. I got so SO fucking proud of myself for making A FUNCTION THAT CHOOSES A RANDOM NUMBER IN A RANGE AND PULLS A VALUE FROM A LIST OF STRINGS AND PRINTS IT TO HELP ME CHOOSE WHAT TO STREAM WHEN I AM UNSURE. IT TOOK ME SO LONG AND IT IS FUCKING HUMILIATING.

IT SHOULD TAKE ME LIKE 5 MINUTES MAX NOT 30. NOT AN HOUR. NOT. Fucking. Ugh.

And then I couldn't get myself to program again. I thought I broke free from it. I really did. I forced myself to do it but why do I return to being unable to do it?

Is it because I don't have an objective? A goal? I like making things for people. I want to help and make them happy.

I don't really have a use for making things for myself. Maybe that is why. Making stupid useless tutorial projects.. feels both demoralizing and useless. A waste of time, DESPITE that it will help me gain something back.

I don't know what to do.

Sorry for you having to read all that.

Maybe one day we will program again.

It's why I did the game design document with Duckolium. Maybe if I stream it, I can force myself to program. Well, more like *be* forced to.

This is my last hope.

I hope it works.

- Buffer

[dreammelter]

Speedrun Workshop Postmortem

I wanted to make a more detailed postmortem as I cleaned the project files up but I'll keep it simple today… If I take any longer, I'm sure to give up on it. (The year is ending so there's a lot of prep/wrap-up going on in other areas I'm responsible for. 🙃)

What I'll cover:

What was the project about? It's goals? It's products?

How did I approach it?

How did things change and why?

What did I like most of what I completed?

What did I wish I could complete?

What did I learn? (A LOT. But maybe make a more definitive list.)

What would be my tips/advice for next time?

(Project deliverables are up on GitHub.)

The One Day Workshop

I only vaguely remember what spurred the project and apparently don't have any journal entries for it either… so here's the gist of it!

My sister worked with City of Las Vegas/Strong Future to help teach some Office 365 basics. In July, she decided to start a small tech biz (now defunct) that offered more technical training. If I remember correctly, she asked if there was anything I'd like to offer, so I figured I could cover programming, 3D art, and game development. (I really just wanted an excuse to play with the things I liked lol.) The team at Strong Future took an interest in hosting the game development class, but they only had a small budget for it at the time. So we decided to host a workshop for middle and high school students on Nevada Day.

The idea was to introduce students to the process of game development as well as some careers and resources. Since the workshop would only last 5 hours, the students would follow along with the recreation of an arcade-like game. I originally wanted to require students have some experience with code since we'd be jumping right into a project. We decided to leave it open to those without it, though. I figured I could do a quick intro to scripting and wouldn't sweat it too much since students could either type-along or drag-and-drop the files.

The workshop had an additional constraint: the computers in the lab wouldn't be able to install any additional software, so I'd have to use a portable or web-based game engine. I've long held onto a list of game engines and dev resources, so finding one wasn't an issue. What was interesting, though, was seeing how some of them have changed over the years… Godot Engine was the first one that came to mind and the one I was sure I was going to go with, but I took a look at my old list anyway. Cocos2D was my second choice since I'd be able to use JavaScript and I was considering it for a future web project, but it required more setup and research than I was interested in bothering with. (The modern Cocos editor requires an install.) Defold, like Godot, doesn't require an install but I didn't want to write in Lua. (Read: I didn't want to relearn how to write Lua. I only have three months.) Game Maker, Construct, GameSalad, and GDevelop were some others I considered for their web versions and/or visual programming features, but I didn't want to force the students to sign up for anything.

So Godot it was. 😎 Long Live Open-Source.

We also named the workshop "Speedrun" some weeks later.

Expectation

The workshop needed three things: a prototype to remake, some slides, and a collection of resources the students could use and refer to later. I was also advised to create a printed handout students could follow along with.

There would also be 20 students at most.

I wanted to break down the five hours as such:

1 hour talking about the industry, careers, and development concepts

3 hours walking through the prototype

1 hour letting the students tinker and build their own levels

(I wrote a couple of different outlines with timestamps closer to the end of the project, too.)

I wanted to teach the students game dev was all about problem solving (and IID.) I'd pose a question or scenario, then walk them through the implementation. Once we built the base game, the students could use the extra resources to add to it however they pleased.

I also split up the 3 months of development time of this project:

1 month to get up to speed with Godot 4 and create a game prototype

1 month to polish the prototype and write up the written materials

1 month to polish the materials, practice the presentation, and prepare for the workshop day

Reality

So I ended taking two months trying to prototype. I briefly talked about it in the "mini postmortem" I included in the class handbook… In short: I tried out different game ideas to see what I could actually implement by the end of the first month. The second month rolled around so I started moving the desired game mechanics to a clean file… just for them to start falling apart. That's when I settled on just making a simple platformer. I used all of September and half of October putting the platformer prototype together, leaving two weeks to put the remaining documents together. Ended up skipping the handout, since I couldn't decide what to put on it… I had a couple different versions of the to-do lists I used to track progress of the game that I could use, but I wasn't sure just how much detail should be included for each task to actually be useful. I didn't complete the handbook in time for class either, so I spent an extra two-three days writing that up…

Dragging and dropping the scripts and resource files from the prototype came in super handy. Because, contrary to my expectation, 4 hours was not enough time to even get past the setup of the player character and tile map. I did not account for students who might not have had any experience with editors of any sort (and forgot to give them an actual tour of the engine. OTL) It wasn't the perfect presentation of "game dev as problem-solving" I hoped for… it was a scramble of remembering what to click and do next. I think the problem-solving sentiment still floats around in the docs and presentation… somewhat. But if there's anything I regret, it's that failure to effectively lead the students through the recreation of the prototype game. We were all pretty exhausted by the end. They said they learned a lot but I hope it didn't crush their interests in building games. 😭

I did spend about an hour and a half covering the industry and such (to my surprise. I wasn't sure I was going to have enough to say, but alas… we did. And it was just a debrief of the topics themselves.) I was also lucky that the students who came in later showed up at opportune times, when it was easy to get them up to speed.

I didn't complete the prototype, but we didn't get very far with the game in-class, either. Guess there's a bit of grace there… I was so worried I end up with a class full of students who were already so comfortable building games in the virtual worlds they hang out in. (But I only had one student who was actually enrolled in a game development program and he was just starting out. All of the students were.)

Reflections

All of that said… I think seeing the reality of how this went down was enlightening. When I get ideas they tend to be overly idyllic and lofty, so it was good to see the gritty, incomplete, and even a little ugly side of this. It was a nice reminder of how much effort goes into creating something that's really good. I mean… the burnout I got after rushing to get this together was 0/10… but the respect I gained for the craft went up 1000%. And seeing how much is available online: from support groups to free tools, the future of game dev will always be bright and exciting.

Part of my screw-up with the approach to teach the development part could have been alleviated if I knew we'd only tackle such a small scope in that time… I obviously couldn't have known how much we'd get through, but a back-up plan beyond "use the premade resources to speed things up" might have been useful in this case. Maybe I could have an alternate "lesson route" where I scaled back most of our goal.

Then again… I probably would've known this ahead of time if I actually practiced the full presentation with someone, rather than the dry run I did alone. 🤔 (One of those expectation vs. reality things.)

Favorite Things

I remember making my first digital game in Flash (though I have this sneaking suspicion there was something I used before it?) Godot's scene-structure was very reminiscent of it. I also liked that it meant you could structure you game basically as the way you see it, making it easy for students to conceptualize.

I also love that you can make tools for the engine using the same language you do to write gameplay code. The coin tool is probably my favorite thing, even though it's incomplete.

Wishes

I'd actually like to figure out what's going on with the double jump animation (which was working at first.) The player can double jump, the conditional block holding the animation just doesn't fire. (I think. I'd have to check the code again.)

It'd also be cool to get the coin tool to work properly in-editor.

Lessons Learned

You won't be able to fit absolutely everything into a project and you probably shouldn't try. 😆 Don't let your brain lie and say you can. Dipping into the longer list of "Nice to Haves" after finishing the "Must Haves" feels nicer than having a long list of "These things were supposed to be in the game--"

Conclusion

I'm gonna be 100% honest, I'm not sure I'd try to build a platformer on my own again. Maybe something closer to a visual novel, sure, but anything more than that? I'd probably enlist the help of some friends. (Especially a gameplay programmer. I'll stick to tools…🫠)

It's a stark position from the one I held as a teen building (fragments of) games… maybe it was the rush to get something together and the burnout that followed. Maybe it was the fact I was building something outside of my initial intention, so I didn't have the same "emotional attachment" I would for something more personal. I do primarily think it was the time constraint and the pressure to make something that I thought would be satisfactory for the students to start with. Sure, I can perform under pressure, but I can't say I do better work under it. And frankly, the pressure is only more bearable with a team, which I didn't have lol.

However, the most important thing is that I completed enough of what was required for this endeavor that I could see it as a success. It's not a smashing or career-changing one, but it's just big enough to be a meaningful experience. (For me and for the handful of students who made it.)

[songofmadness]

I recently fixated on a very nice hat I saw in passing as I doomscrolled on pinterest... at 3 in the morning, stubbornly fighting off my prescription sleep meds - which I pay money for, and take so that I can sleep - just like a real, proper adult. Hunted the hat down on etsy - which took a little bit, as no one links the damn creator on pinterest- and discovered that it was significantly out of my (tiny) budget for cute hats.

Instead of putting down the damn laptop and letting my (paid for) sleep medication do its damn job, I spent two hours on ravelry trying to find an acceptable hat pattern so I can make the desired cute hat. It is now 5 in the morning. Not a single pattern perfectly matches this damn hat.

This was clearly the time to give up right? Right? But no. I climb out of my nice warm bed - it's winter and my house is poorly made so it is very, very cold. My window is also open at all times unless the rain is actually blowing sideways directly into it, because otherwise it feels like I'm going to suffocate. I am aware that this is ridiculous.

So anyway. Winter. 4 degrees celsius in my bedroom - I checked. And I'm wandering around the sewing room hunting down supplies so I can devise a pattern for this bloody hat. I don't have thick enough wool. Fine. I wind a ball of four seperate colours and weights, green/grey/black. The colour is pleasing and the weight seems sufficient. My feet are like blocks of ice. It is 5-30 in the morning, I have not slept, my sleep meds have given up entirely. The sun isn't up yet, I reason vaguely, I have not yet completely failed as an adult.

I have to teach my spawn maths the next day today. I have to clean my house, and buy groceries and walk the dog and basically function like a sensible 31 year old woman, a single mother, a homeschool teacher. All these things I am supposed to do. But the hat.

I curl up in my bed, scattered with wool, and needles, and books, and inhalers, and cats. Open the curtain - the sky is still black out, and the wind is freezing and I am an idiot. I'm so dumb and I can't stop. I knit a hat. And then frog it and knit another hat, because I reached for the pretty handcarved needles instead of a pair that matched the gauge. Because I'm tired now and I still can't stop.

I reknit the hat. It doesn't look right. I frog it again, have a brief sleep deprived cackle over the term frog, because my little brother loved frogs, he'd rescue them out of the toilet cistern when we were kids - 'Straya! - and I miss him so much and I knit the hat again.

I stare at the grainy etsy photos. None of them are at the right angle for me to make sure I've done it right so I dig through previous purchases until I found a photo taken by some person I have never and will never meet - a person who could afford a $270 knitted hat, who took a photo wearing the coveted hat that they had paid for - I find this photo after fighting off the sleep meds that I pay for and -

I realise that I have definitely knitted the wrong hat. There isn't a seamline there. I swear and frog and start again. I go to youtube and relearn how to do a provisional cast on. I knit the hat. My hands are cold, and my nose and ears are cold and the cats are sleeping. The dog has checked on me three times because I'm not meant to do this and he knows it as well as I do. The sun comes up by slow degrees - we're far enough south that the position of the rising sun changes signifigantly over the course of a year. In winter it rises behind my neighbour's house.

The sky is freezing clear. The sunrise is glorious, amber and rose and I am so tired and I can't sleep because the hat. And anyway, I can't sleep now, because the spawn will be up in an hour and he wont eat unless I hand him food, he'll take his meds and then he wont be hungry anymore, and I worry about his weight. The cats are purring. I'm so tired.

I finish the hat. It is lovely and warm on my half frozen ears. The cats are purring, the sky is no longer painted with the amber sunrise. The spawn is making sleepy noise in his room. I need to get up and make coffee and stagger through the day. Sometimes I can - like the terror-fueled last minute scrawlings that earned me A's and commendations in english class a million years and five minutes ago, sometimes my stupid broken brain can pull off miracles. Sometimes I half ass everything, and snap at people, and just generally act like a sleep deprived asshole. Those are not good days.

Either way it goes, I can't stop myself from fixating on the hat [insert stupid thing here]. I have medication that helps me stop, but I can't take that at night because then I can't sleep. Also if I take it to last 24 hours a day my heart will explode or something idk. Sometimes I can fore myself to stop, to lie down and try to rest. I don't, I just run through the ways I could hypothetically construct the [insert stupid thing here]. I don't sleep.

I am really really sick of this. I have a hat, and sleep debt, and a broken brain. I haven't been writing because that requires higher brain function and I only have that for random stupid hats and explaining maths principles through provisioning for a zombie apocalypse. Hopefully, this will be just yet another weird cycle and it'll stop and I'll be able to act more like a normal person again soon.

Or maybe this is permanent? Maybe this is what post thirty ADHD looks like for me. If it is, I'll just have to figure out workarounds for it. But yeah, in conclusion, tired, not writing, have a cool hat now.

[chellishere]

Character Modeling...p1

I started working on my characters for my short film for school (technically starting early-- maybe a good thing, maybe not...)

Luckily I get free/cheap licenses for these expensive programs that are required to even function as a 3D artist with my tuition (which is way more expensive than those licenses ever would have been...)

Anyway-- to start, I modeled a character in zbrush. I save a lot of backups, so I can go back and see most of the steps of my process (pics below)

Then I brought the highres mesh into maya, did a little retop fun where I zoned out for like 3-5 hours as I made my cute little loops and such:

Then the whole operation was brought back to zbrush for that sweet sweet projection action to then bake maps in substance...(lowres(subdivided a ton but pre-projection) vs highres mesh below)

So I imported the maya retopologized file into substance, baked my mesh, and got to work painting by hand <3 (base color display on left, material display on right)

She's beautiful! For my first real attempt at painting textures, I think it looks pretty good, if a bit scary without... hair and eyes and such.

And I'm realizing the retop job I did might not have enough topology, especially since I'm planning on using her for a short film, so I didn't really need to worry about having too many verts or anything, especially since she has soo few that I can see issues around the edges of the geometry where (I'm assuming) the normal maps are adding shadows to where the geometry oversteps the map, for example this black line on her arm:

But I'm not even sure if I'm going to use the normal maps anyway because I want to experiment with trying to make the renders look painted/flat (rip to all that sculpting work... at least it helped me figure out how to paint details in substance even if I don't end up using the map)

...

So onto hair! I wanted dynamic hair so her gorgeous locks could blow in the simulated wind, and I wanted her to have curly hair. When I looked up how to use nHair in maya, I saw people recommend xgen. I have some limited experience in xgen thanks to one class of one course I took last semester, but really I had to relearn it through a YouTube video (thank you J Hill on Youtube! linked at end of post). It seems like I might've gotten rid of the file that had my xgen attempt so I don't have a picture to show, but... my girl was balding, and xgen wasn't letting me create maps because of issues with the file paths that I coudn't resolve despite going through the path and not finding any issues?? so I gave up. I tried to mess around with it for a bit, but really xgen wouldn't have fit the style I was going for anyway. I wanted chunky hair that I could paint textures for. To fix the mess I made, I would've needed time, and though it would've been good practice and a learning experience, I really wanted to focus on finishing my project following the intended aesthetic than branching out and forgetting about my original goal. So, raincheck xgen. We'll meet again on another day. To make up for no xgen pics, heres a screenie from the file I do have where I tried paint effects on my hair curves:

lol.

I wanted the hair curly anyway, and I didn't really want to use paint effect hair so... onwards:

Then I saw a video on using curve warp deformers for hair (GGP_Animation on Youtube) which was a cool introduction to something in maya I didn't even know existed (plugin wasn't even loaded on my machine) but I realized that if I had the curves and wanted curly hair, I could just make a sweep mesh that followed the curves! So I did, and then followed ANOTHER tutorial (CG MAGUS on Youtube) on how to make dynamic hair to figure out which option in the nHair menu I should choose ^.^ and finally! the curves were moving! --But the sweeps weren't... So I saved the preset I had made for them and applied it to the NEW hair system curves-- and finally, she had beautiful dynamic curls (ignore the eyes--temporary, just a quick 3-color ramp on spheres).

Just kidding, they're kinda ugly lol :,) but that's hopefully just because it's just a generic aistandardsurface shader with no texture. I'm going to repaint the texture on the scalp so even if it shows through it doesn't look like her hair is thinning. I'm also planning on using flair renderer (linked below), so I have to pay for that and do some testing with it to figure out how I can get the final look I'm going for. Concept portrait design below:

[designresearch604-ahnesshim]

20 Items + Copywrite

My Korean passport and New Zealand passport. Although I was born in New Zealand, my very first passport was a Korean passport because my mother had the choice of giving me a Korean or New Zealand passport. But because our family was Korean and my roots are also Korean she had chosen to proudly give me a Korean identity. These two contrasting items show the duality of an identity crisis that I feel and experience whilst living in New Zealand as a Kiwi-Korean.

2. Birth Certificate. his is a legal and physical proof of me being born here, a Kiwi-Asian, a Kiwi-Korean. But throughout my life and growing up, experiencing cultural dilemmas, racism and discrimination I was often told to go back to my own country, although I was born here. I've often grown up acknowledging racism instead of standing up to it. I felt foreign although NZ felt like my home and it always was and is. I felt small and scared and "less" than white people and because of the racism I experienced I sometimes wished I was white.

3. Baby anklet (?). It's amazing and interesting to see how small of a baby I was to grow up into a person who can no longer fit into that anklet I once fit into. This is a metaphor for how much I have matured and learned about myself and my own culture as I continue to relearn the culture I was abandoned and ran away from, colonising myself.

4. Wellington Te Papa Souvenir. This encapsulates my very first trip down to Wellington and serves as a momento of the time. When I look back at it now there was much culture to be learnt and take in, and so much that I did not know of. I remember the joy and excitement of going to a new place and exploring a new place out of Auckland with my family.

5.Korean Currency – trip to Korea for the First Time. These coins were coins that I kept as a souvenir from my very first trip to my parents home country, Korea which encompasses the preservation of South Korean currency as a form of cultural and historical significance. I vividly remember my grandma, aunties, uncles and even my parents' friends' gave me pocket money often telling me to buy something yummy for myself with the large sum of money that possibly seemed too much for a snack. This is enriched in Korean culture and to me it's a token of them showing care and love towards me and even my parents and their way of expressing their love and care as it is not common to see people express how they feel verbally in Korean, eastern culture, but they also stand as artefacts of a my journey, capturing moments in time, and embodying the pride and identity.

6. Seoul Sky Magnet – Trip to Korea in 8 Years (after first trip). This was my second trip to Korea in 8 years, after the first one. My older sister and I spent hours and hours exploring the culture-rich Korea as we had so much to learn as we knew so little of our own culture and my parents' home country. The magnet was a souvenir from a landmark called Namsan which is famous and popular for their tower that overlooks the city.

7. HongKong Magnet Souvenir at 15 years olds. This trip was a meaningful and exciting trip as my cousin who I lived with as a small child, young as 5 years old; would be visiting him in many years. I was able to visit Hong kong like a local person who lived there as my cousin took us on a designated tour around the hot spots in the local area and throughout the city.

8. Polaroids. These polaroids I took lie in their ability to transform intangible memories into tangible, touchable keepsakes. Unlike traditional photography, which involves waiting for film to be developed, or digitally taken through our phone, it allows an image to materialize within moments of pressing the shutter button. This instant gratification grants a sense of immediacy and authenticity to the captured moments, preserving it in a form that can be held, shared, and cherished in real-time. The physicality of these polaroid photographs, with its characteristic white border and distinctive color palette, imparts a timeless charm that transcends eras, making it not just a snapshot, but a testament to the magic of instant memory-making.

9. Poststick Notes. These post stick notes are important as they help me to mark important pages within my sketchbooks or even in my diary, so that I can come back to them. I often use the same colour post stick notes for pages that have similar or continuing ideas. This item has now become an essential for me as a designer and within my personal life as well as it marks out important and even current events and pages.

10. 2023 Diary. A personal diary becomes a canvas for expression, allowing me to infuse my unique style and preferences. The diary stands as a tangible object featuring handwritten organization and introspection, providing a haven for dreams, plans, and cherished memories to flourish throughout the year. It serves not only as a practical tool but also as a source of inspiration, reminding me of the transformative potential that comes from purposeful reflection and deliberate planning.

11. Free Food for Millionaires. This novel that holds a special place, "Free Food for Millionaires" by Min Jin Lee is a compelling exploration of ambition and identity as a Korean-American. A young Korean American navigates the complexities of immigrant expectations and personal aspirations. This novel delves into themes of social mobility and cultural adaptation. The title, "Free Food for Millionaires," alludes to the stark contrasts and opportunities that define Casey's journey, highlighting the tension between her heritage and the allure of the American Dream. I found myself relating to the protaganist in the novel as I have also grappled and still am grappling with cultural identity.

12. Clay Trays. Crafted from air dry clay allows for intricate detailing and unique designs. Each tray retains the organic texture and natural colour of the clay but then adds expression and life to the clay with colour and glaze, resulting in a piece that feels intimately connected to me as a person as these trays serve as canvases, adorned with various patterns, textures, and finishes that reflect my individual style.

13. Ephemera made of Plaster. This piece of object was an object I picked out and took in an exhibition "20 Objects". Each object has a story, although unknown to the public, but I picked it out because I thought the form was so beautiful in its irregularity. It almost mimicked the shape of a seashell which was a contributing factor as to why I chose this object to take home.

14. Flower Print. This black and white flower print, received as a gift from a friend, carries a depth of meaning that transcends its visual appeal. The monochromatic representation of flowers exudes a timeless elegance and simplicity. It signifies a shared appreciation for aesthetics and a gesture of friendship that reflects their thoughtfulness and kind heart. Every time I look at this print, it serves as a tangible reminder of the bond between friends and the enduring beauty that can be found in even the simplest of gestures. It becomes an enduring piece of art that not only decorates a space but also warms the heart with the memory of a cherished connection and memory.

15. Felt Tips - Gift from Grandma at 8 Years old. I remember the excitement I felt when I received this gift from my grandma. I was excited to use this in every piece of craft I made. But I found myself only using it for "special occasions", as I wanted these felt tips to last as long as they could and I have achieved that, they still work to this day. Although it was at such a young age, I thought this was a token of my grandma's appreciation of my constant crafting, and drawing as a young child.

16. Muji Mechanical Pencil. As a designer, the mechanical pencil is my steadfast companion in the creative process. This tool allows me to translate my ideas from mind to paper, helping me to quickly visualise ideas before heading into the digital space – a principle I hold dear in my work. The mechanical pencil is not just a tool; it's an extension of my creativity, an instrument through which I shape my visions into tangible forms.

17. Muji Ink Pen. Another analogue object that is important to me is this ink pen. This pen allows me to quickly jot down any ideas, important dates and events to mark in my physical calendar or diary. I appreciate the physical writing more than the digital space, as it embeds in my mind a lot more than it does when I type things in. It also feels more personal to me as it retains my own personal handwriting.

18. Scalpel. The scalpel serves as a crafting knife that epitomises precision, creativity, and the handwork of myself. This took me to shape and sculpt a wide array of materials with exacting detail. It becomes an extension of my vision, allowing for intricate designs and makings. It also enables the transformation of raw materials into objects of design.

19. Rulers. I have a few differing sizes and lengths of these durable rulers which I have found to be very useful as a designer. Working as a designer does not mean always having to work in a digital space, but many of my interests are rooted in physical crafting which was something I have always done from a young age. These rulers help me to draw and cut precise lines and forms to what I envision.

20. Mouse. This mouse is another extension of my hand in the digital space. With precision, I am able to navigate through design software, shaping elements and refining details with a fluidity that mirrors my thought process. The mouse becomes an instrument of finesse, allowing me to execute intricate patterns. It enables me to translate imagination into tangible design.

[goboymusic]

I wish I could be #schizophrenic for a day just to know what it’s like to believe Taylor Swift is stalking me, or the government put dozens of hidden cameras in my apartment, or something equally awesome.

“#Juliet” was drunk recording session 7.

Being heavily inspired by @blink182 and the #poppunk genre, the lyrics in “Juliet” are about young love and dating the coolest girl in school. Girlfriend pride, I guess.

The production of “Juliet” went smoothly, other than trying to figure out how to start the song. Starting with the 1st verse didn’t work, nor the pre-chorus, nor the chorus, nor the instrumental post-chorus, nor any intros that I was coming up with. Nothing worked, but starting with the chorus sounded the least bad, so that’s what you hear.

Like the rest of the song, the chorus originally had vocal harmonies and mid-ranged instruments. Unfortunately those elements only seemed to detract from the chorus, so they were removed, and the chorus became a minimalistic segment consisting of drums, distorted bass and lofi vocals.

Lofi vocal effects are popular in pop rock music. @TheKillers use it for many of their songs (example: “Mr. Brightside”). @GreenDay uses it once in a while (example: “American Idiot”). Lofi plugins usually cut out lower frequencies and add some distortion to the vocals, making it sound like someone’s singing through an old radio transmission. When used in the right places, it sounds cool (excerpt from post 78).

A synthesizer was developed specifically for this song, which can be heard at 0:22. That same synthesizer was subsequently used in “Maximum Sex (Song 115)” and “Guess How Much I Care (Song 116).”

Starting with “Granola (Song 108),” the complexity of the 3-part harmonies was difficult for my brain to handle. To do so, I started utilizing a technique of changing the pitch on the master track (essentially increasing or decreasing the pitch of the entire song) and listening to the song at those different pitches. When you listen to your own song at a different pitch, it’s as if you’re hearing it from a fresh perspective. You catch mistakes that weren’t noticeable before. It’s really interesting. This technique has been used for all subsequent songs (this paragraph contains excerpts from post 108).

Like all songs on GoBoy 6, the instrument tracks were developed through experimentation with software instruments. It was like playing darts, only the darts were an assortment of kitchen utensils and art supplies, and the efficiency of those items were discovered through trial and error. After about 3-5 days of experimentation, the final instrument tracks were complete (excerpt from post 101).

Throughout GoBoy 3, 4 and 5, a lesson was relearned after a seven-year hiatus: confidence is important in a recording booth, as listeners can sense any hesitancy in your voice. This rediscovery would lead me to experiment with drinking while recording GoBoy 6. What results would liquid courage bring (excerpt from post 102)?

Songs 102 - 116 (total of 15 songs) were produced simultaneously, resulting in an eight-month gap in releases. Melodies, chord structures and lyrics were written for all 16 songs over the course of four days before recording any of them. During the recording phase, one-week intervals took place between recording sessions to let vocal cords recover (the raspy, punk style sounds cool, but it destroys your voice after a few hours). During those intervals, all free time was spent splicing and aligning the vocal tracks to the tempo, pitch correction (everyone uses pitch correction in the studio, even Beyoncé, shut up), then selecting and splicing together the best vocal takes (excerpt from post 102).

[satellite-blossom]

tell me the story of your greatest creation!

Oh boy, "greatest creation"...? It's gonna be hard to pick one since I've relearned to love what I create.

I've worked on a lot of things : art, animations, custom game content, written stories, OCs, edits, ... I'm not sure what to pick !

At risk of sounding cheesy, I must admit that I feel like my greatest creation has yet to come ; not that what I've done so far isn't good already, I just feel like I keep improving ! My greatest creation of yesterday may not be my greatest creation of tomorrow, and that's to say nothing about the months, the years, the decades that await me !

Every time I put together a new fairy kei outfit (IRL ; yes I do actually wear pastel alt fashion !), I feel like it's my best coord so far.

Every time I tweak something in my artstyle, I feel like it's the greatest my art has ever been.

When I make a new bead bracelet I think "wow this one is even cuter than the others !".

Every time I come up with a cute outfit for a piece I think it's the cutest fit I've ever drawn...

It's something of an exaggeration/hyperbole of course, but I do feel like I'm constantly improving lately. I've stopped hating on every word I write, every piece I draw, every mistake I make, ... ; I enjoy creating things and looking back on them now ! It wasn't a magical switch, getting new meds and a better environnement greatly helped. Also I must say that switching to better art programs helped too ; of course you feel more frustrated with your art when it took over ten hours to make, drawing with your fingers till they hurt, using a barebone app running on an overheating phone just for your art to seem lesser than other artists'.

I guess I could make a short list of some of my favorite things from over the years ?

1) Some of my earliest drawings made with Sony Sketch, the drawing app I've used the longest :

This app made my hands hurt (literally, that's not a joke) but I've managed to make some cute things with it. I look back on this era fondly ; I used to draw a lot and be very positive about my art back then.

2) Some small animations I've made with Flipnote Studio 3D :

I used to make silly animations with the original Flipnote Studio for the DSi, so when the 3D version arrived I've tried to make a few things. It was super hard but I've managed to make some gifs a few years ago ! The smoothie one was for a fan-made Splatfest on Amino ! The dog is the mascot of a French YouTuber called Mister Flech ; the colors came out a little wonky when I've exported the animation as a gif... The red girl is Google Plus-chan, and lastly we have Finalfest Pearl doing... A thing. I was team chaos, by the way !

3) Some of my 3DS games shenanigans :

Here you have screenshots from two of my favorite 3DS game : The New Style Boutique 3 & Animal Crossing : Happy Home Designer ! As you may be able to tell, I love the 3DS to bits and I adore games that are easy to customize !

4) New Horizons shenanigans :

Here you can see my island : Saly ! It's the first ever island/town I got to five stars, and it's not even done yet ! Still, it has many corners I love, like the orange county side, the camping area, the museum area or even my pink fair ! All of the custom designs there were made by me ! I've improved a lot since 2020 already !

5) My more recent art :

Here you have a piece from 2020, one from 2021 and the two last ones are from this year !

I've kept trying new things and improving I think ! But I still love those four pieces, and they're just some of my favorite drawings of mine.

And lastly...

6) My main OC : Léa Acorn !

They've come a looooong way since their first appearance ! And they've remained my flagship OC ever since !

Dimensional Hoper, Magical Enby, and Tortured Soul it's them ! The blorbo from my brain that I love but keep putting in the worst situations. But hey at least I know how their story ends now, and they get a revenge & peace at last !

I used to be very self-conscious about Léa ; I was afraid of people calling them a "Mary Sue" or mocking the fact I was using them to depict a fantasy of mine, so I used to talk somewhat derogatorily of them to say "hey I know it's a Sonic OC (how cringe !) but don't worry I'm aware of the cringe and Mary Sue stuff, see I'm mocking myself first so you don't have to !", and I think it was pretty sad. Even though Léa's "Mary Sue" attributes are justified in the narrative now (loved by most people, super powerful, ... for reasons that would spoil everything), I think it would be fine if I hadn't tried so hard to rework them. I'm proud of the progress I've made, but sometimes you just have to be self-indulgent and have daydreams about someone kinda like you going on adventures and beating their abusers up, y'know ?

Anyway I'm glad of where I've taken Léa, the flagship of my current paracosm. And I'll never get tired of rambling about them, haha.

Not sure if this really answers the ask, but I've enjoyed rambling here, so thank you for the ask !

[jmreyes9]

LESSONS LEARNED AT THE POOL

     My Grandson Teaches Me Lessons in Perseverance and Honesty

By Jesse Reyes

     Devon, my grandson, who just recently turned 5, loves to swim. He goes swimming at Lifetime Fitness Center near our home where I’m a member. When he was about 3 ½ years old, he began taking swimming lessons once a week at this facility. The first few lessons were not too encouraging both for him and for us, his grandparents, for he could hardly stay afloat in the water, no matter how hard he tried. We even tried to tell ourselves that maybe he was too young to learn to swim. However, his teacher, a college student who was working part time as a swimming instructor, was very patient with the kid.  He assured us that this age was a good age for young kids to learn to swim, and that we should just try to give him some encouragement. 

     After a couple months of lessons, there began to appear “a light at the end of the tunnel” for not only could Devon stay afloat but also was able to move forward with leg kicks and arm movements. Slowly but surely he began to develop a “graceful movement” in his freestyle and backstroke routines as he gained more confidence. Both he and his teacher were overjoyed by his progress.  Now after a little over a year, he can do his freestyle and backstroke routines the entire 14 yards of the width of the pool. It was because of the persistent efforts of his teacher that we attribute our grandson’s small success.

     I now take Devon to “his club” (this is how he calls Lifetime Fitness) every Tuesday morning for his lessons. On Mondays, we swim together during family swim for 2 hours. One lady who saw him swim, remarked, “Your son swims real good. He’s cute too.” “Thanks for the compliment but he’s really my grandson.” I said politely. I saw her blush as she turned and walked away. On another day, we had finished swimming, taken our shower and went to the front desk to return our locker key.  I asked Devon to return the key. The young woman at the desk took the key from Devon and handed him my membership card I had given as a deposit when I borrowed the key. “Here, give this to your dad.” she said smiling. “Grandpa,” I said ,correcting her. “But I’ll take the compliment.” I further said. The smile vanished from her face. She turned around trying to hide her embarrassment and took care of another “customer”.

     One day, as Devon and I finished swimming and were going to take our shower, we saw a pair of nice goggles lying in one of the pool chairs. “Should we get it? Looks like somebody left it.” I asked him. “No, wowo (grandpa—that’s how he called me), that’s stealing,” he firmly said. So we left. When we came back the next day we saw the same goggles again in the same place, untouched. “I think we should just take it because nobody seems to own it,” I said, trying to test him. “No, wowo, that’s stealing,” he exclaimed. Someone had ingrained the virtue of honesty in this kid, I thought to myself. Whoever it was has to be warmly commended.

Lessons Learned and Relearned:

Patience and perseverance pay off in the end.

“Honesty is the best policy.”

Written in Chicago, IL. Nov. 7, 2013 posted on FB on this date. Posted on my blog Nov. 7, 2022.

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it’d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

[delimeful]

to taste your beating heart (5)

warnings: blood, miscommunication, imprisonment, arguing

-

Logan met Virgil-- Anx’s eyes over Patton’s shoulder, and watched as his gaze went from bewildered to guarded in half a second.

In the next moment, Anx had shoved out sharply, pushing Patton away from him hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps-- just far enough to be outside the protective ward, Logan noted. 

As though to cover up the fact that he’d just stripped himself of a potential hostage, Anx stiffened up to his full height, fangs bared at them all.

“Careful!” Roman snapped in an eerie parody of Virgil’s normal catchphrase, rising to his feet as Patton narrowly avoided overbalancing.

“No, no,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes without any shame, “it’s my fault, I should have asked first. I always get kind of emotional after thralls break. My apawlegies, Anx.” He accented the words with a flap of his cat hoodie sleeve.

Logan had time to notice the way Anx’s face twisted-- a mix of confusion-amusement-wariness that was familiar from Virgil’s first weeks working with them-- before Roman cut in with a startled shout.

“The thrall is broken?!” he squawked, head whipping back and forth between Patton and Anx. “Since when?”

“None of your business,” snapped Anx.

“Pretty much as soon as I walked in!” cheered Patton, at the exact same time. He paused. “Whoops, sorry, Anx! Did you want that to be... confangdential?”

“Boo,” Roman called, instantly distracted by the bad wordplay, “That was a reach.”

Logan let his audible facepalm speak for itself. “Out of the way, please, Patton.”

Patton obligingly shuffled to the side, and with every step closer Logan took, Anx folded inwards like a snake rearing back to strike. Seeing Virgil’s body bracing for the worst at his approach made something in Logan’s chest pang oddly, but luckily he was well practiced at ignoring such things.

Once at the edge of the circle, he crouched and inspected the activation key. As expected, nothing was out of place. Logan doubted Anx had been awake long enough to even consider tampering with the circle, let alone attempt it.

Now that the ash had cooled, the spell would be vulnerable to outside influence. It wasn’t as big of a concern anymore, seeing as the thrall on Patton had been removed, but Logan wasn’t one to leave things half-done.

… Also, if left unattended, Patton would probably free the vampire without telling anyone even without being under thrall.

Logan set his palm on the activation key and nonverbally cast a warming spell, reactivating the part of the spell that singed any unauthorized fingers messing with his circle. He could add the warming charm into the circle’s layout later, when there wasn’t a twitchy vampire watching his every move.

Despite his efforts to make his spellcasting subtler than usual, Anx still seemed to go still and stiff like hunted prey when the change in the spell sent a mild warmth into the air around them. Those uncanny purple eyes flickered between all three of the hunters for a moment, and then seemed to settle for glaring at nothing.

“So, Draculame, what prompted the sudden change of heart?” Roman asked, arms crossed over his chest.

His tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but Anx’s bristling only increased, likely at the nickname. It had taken a while for Virgil to realize Roman’s ruder habits weren’t mean-spirited. It seemed like Anx would have to relearn that.

Provided they got that far.

Shaking the rather grim thought away, Logan tilted his head at the vampire. “I’m admittedly curious as well.”

Anx hissed at them, which they probably should have expected. It probably said something about their friend that this had already been standard Virgil behavior before he’d been turned. It was almost nostalgic.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not vamptagonize him!” Patton cut in firmly, ignoring their groans. “It’s almost dawn, so how about we call it close enough to morning and have some breakfast? I’ll make pat-cakes!”

He swanned out of the room without waiting for an answer, nearly hip checking the doorframe as he went. For a moment, Logan half-expected to see Virgil fall in a half-step behind him, like a particularly emo shadow. The absence was jarring.

“He hasn’t slept tonight,” he finally said, capturing Roman’s attention. “Make sure he doesn’t use salt instead of sugar?”

“And meanwhile you will be…?” Roman prompted doubtfully. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Figuring out a way for Anx to safely move to the kitchen, as Patton no doubt wants him there,” he replied, raising a hand to forestall any protests. “I took precautions.”

Roman threw his hands up dramatically, shot Anx a warning glare, and then turned to leave.

“Ugh. There goes my appetite,” he grumbled as he stormed out the door.

Logan allowed himself a sigh and then turned to face Anx. The vampire was still staring at him oddly. “I will be placing a pair of enchanted cuffs on you. They have no chains and they will not hurt you, but if you move against any of us with malicious intent, they will freeze in place.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you move against me?” he challenged automatically, lip curling. “Stand there and take it?”

“The cuffs will not stop you from running or hiding,” Logan told him, “and you’ve proven yourself to be skilled at both of those things in the past 48 hours. None of us are planning on attacking you, but you will have options regardless.”

This wasn’t how he would have reassured Virgil, but this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, the one that trusted him. He couldn’t soothe Anx’s cognitive distortions, not when he was barely more than a stranger.

He retrieved the shiny black cuffs from a nearby cabinet. They hadn’t had a thrall aggressive enough to use them on in months. “If you’ll put your wrists forward, we can proceed. Otherwise, Patton will be bringing breakfast to you, and I’d prefer not to get syrup or blood all over this room.”

Anx eyed him warily for another few moments, but eventually Logan’s patience paid off, and he stuck his wrists out with a growl. Logan reached past the barrier without any trouble and clicked the first one into place. Before he could proceed with the second, Anx’s hand flipped around and grabbed onto Logan’s wrist tightly.

Logan’s head jerked up to meet Anx’s gaze, already shifting his weight to counter a pull, but the vampire didn’t move further, just stared at him intently. “I know what you are.”

He clearly expected some kind of dramatic reaction, but Logan wasn’t in the habit of those, particularly not for such vague accusations. “If you’ll specify?”

“You’re a witch,” Anx said. “I saw you tamper with the circle without any instruments. You have natural magic.”

Logan felt his stomach sink slightly. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, but it still made something in him twist to think of any version of Virgil blackmailing him over his magical heritage. “And what of it?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“You’re living in the same house as hunters. You’re doing magic right under their noses, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Anx scolded, sounding more like Virgil with every word. “Do you need help getting out?”

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what sort of face he made in response to this endearingly dense offer, but it was apparently enough to make Anx frown with uncertainty. He held a hand out for his other wrist and clicked the cuff on it without any problems, and then deactivated the circle with a simple gesture of his hand over the key.

Anx’s eyes flicked to the door, and Logan tried not to think about him darting out into the early morning sun. He turned and headed to the door.

“Follow me, and you’ll get your answer.”

While traversing the halls, Logan resisted the persistent urge to check behind him. Gone were the slight shuffled footsteps that had previously accompanied Virgil’s presence, replaced by Anx’s supernatural silence, as though he was gliding over the floor without even touching it.

He entered the kitchen, where Patton had evidently wrangled Roman into setting the table. Whether the four plates set out were out of habit or Roman reluctantly accepting Anx’s presence at the table, Logan wasn’t sure.

He cleared his throat, making both of them look up from attempting to draw funny faces with the pancake batter.

“Observe,” he instructed, and then drew a sigil in the air and lit a simple flame in his hand. Behind him, he could practically hear Anx go as stiff as a board.

“Are we showing off?” Roman asked, a bit excited but completely unsurprised. “Should I perform a monologue?”

“Great spell, Lo! No arson in the house, though,” Patton added in a bright chirp. “After all, I have enough ar-sons here already!”

Logan doused the flame by clenching a fist, giving Patton a Look that went blithely ignored. “You two are incorrigible. That was a simple demonstration.”

He turned to Anx, who looked a little shell shocked.

“As we’ve informed you, ‘hunter’ is a title that we use mostly for convenience and ease of access to jobs. We help magical beings just as often as average humans, if not more frequently.”

“We tried out ‘Protectors of the Innocent’ for a while, but it never really caught on for some reason,” Roman added, subtly sneaking a piece of bacon from the serving plate while Patton’s back was turned.

“Perhaps it would have worked better if someone hadn’t only put P.I. on all the business cards, resulting in us being mistaken for Private Investigators and all of our calls being about spousal infidelity for a solid two months,” Logan snarked back, moving past them to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge.

“The printing office charged by the letter!” Roman protested, and then recoiled from the countertop as his next attempt at sneaking ended with his fingers smacked mercilessly. “Augh! Forsaken by those dearest to me! What cruelty!”

“No sympathy for bacon thieves,” Patton chided, wielding his spatula like an instrument of mass destruction. “Go sit!”

Logan seated himself as well, and turned to Anx, who had been watching the banter play out from the doorway with a somewhat dazed expression. “You’re welcome to sit. Patton will likely insist on it, actually.”

“You people,” he enunciated slowly, “are crazy.”

“You get used to it,” Logan assured him with the certainty of someone who had heard this exact phrase from Virgil before. He checked his watch. “It has been some time since you last ate. I can retrieve some stored blood from our refrigerator.”

“Actually,” Patton set a plate stacked high with pancakes in the center of the table with a plonk, “I figured I could just be Anx’s donor for a while!”

Roman, who had just stolen a sip of Logan’s orange juice, did a movie-perfect spit take, and Patton slid the pancake stack swiftly out of range of the spray.

“It will be 55 days before you are viable for another blood donation,” Logan recited the fact automatically, but he was just as thrown off as Roman.

“Not if he drinks from me directly!” Patton retorted, a beacon of cheerful composure.

“What?” All three of them replied, at varying levels of screech.

Anx shot a wild-eyed look at the room at large and took a step back, as though physically distancing himself from the idea.

“Patton, you can’t be serious!” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, looking distraught. “Fangs For The Memories over here might look like Virgil, but he’s proven quite thoroughly that he’s not! We just got you un-thralled, clearly he can’t be trusted not to take advantage of you!”

Logan noticed Anx wince, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the harsh assessment or Virgil’s name being spoken.

“Me not being thralled anymore is exactly why we can trust him not to hurt me,” Patton said, chin tilted up stubbornly. “He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he fixed it anyway! That’s more than good enough in my book.”

“Well, maybe your book needs some copyediting!” Roman snapped back, exasperated. “So his unbeating heart isn’t as completely shriveled up as it originally seemed! So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who thralled you in the first place!”

Logan cut in, physically moving between them to break up the beginnings of a shouting match.

“I have to agree that this is a bad idea, for a multitude of reasons,” he started, raising a quelling hand before Patton could protest. “The matter of Anx’s trustworthiness aside, you shouldn’t be directly donating blood to any vampire. It is an unnecessary risk to your mental and emotional well being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, apparently keen to seize allies where he could. He gestured expansively, looking at Patton with earnest eyes. “You’ve come so far, Pat. We don’t want to see any of your hard work undone. Virgil wouldn’t want that either; you know he’d fight this harder than any of us.”

Patton’s face had softened at their-- Roman’s sentimental worrying, but even bringing Virgil into it couldn’t sway his determined course.

“I know you guys just want me safe, but this is something I need to do. Even if it is a risk, I can’t be held down by this fear forever. And who better to help me than Anx!”

“Literally anyone who hasn’t threatened to kill everyone here in the last 48 hours,” Roman moaned, dragging his hands down his face.

“Besides,” Patton continued, undeterred, “this way we don’t have to worry about our emergency transfusion supply going low! It just makes sense.”

Logan had to begrudgingly agree. Between the hassle of trying to explain why they suddenly needed significantly more blood and the fact that a vampire drinking directly would replenish blood cells at a much higher rate than drawing blood, the best option really was to have a direct donor. He simply didn't want it to be Patton.

Unfortunately, his odds of actually being able to stop Patton were quite low.

“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Anx grumbled, having retreated to the hall like a skittish feral cat.

The vampire seemed almost more unsettled by the idea than either of the other objecting parties, despite being the only one who directly benefited from the hypothetical arrangement. Nervous about their responses if he agreed, perhaps?

“We can at least give it a shot!” Patton insisted, coming a little closer to Anx and reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. It spoke volumes that the touch wasn't brushed off or rejected. “It could end up helping us both! And if it doesn’t, we’ll just find another way! You won’t be in trouble for messing up, okay?”

Anx blinked, slowly, still looking somewhat unconvinced that this was reality. Still, after a few moments of exposure to Patton’s encouraging smile, he dipped his head in a nod.

“Okay.”