#went to a workshop they did and had a very nice time just coloring stuff. got coffee got lunch at my favourite food truck.

[youssefguedira]

deciding that i, a notorious aromantic, will be observing valentine's day from now on but in a 'i get to have a nice day by myself' way

[nyoomfruits]

For the kiss thingy again....... the mctwinks 36 ....!

i uh. went a bit rogue with this one and now it's like. 1,4k of really weird medieval crack fic i guess??? but uh. it has a dragon! so.

36. kiss to give up control

The throne room hadn’t changed much since he’d last seen it, Lando mussed, as the guards led them through the big wooden doors. The curtains along the walls were still the same gross green color, the chandelier on the ceiling still had a broken chain, making it ever so slightly crooked, and the carpet leading up to the throne was still fraying at the edges. Maybe even more so.

The throne had gotten a new coat of paint, at least. But the king sitting on it had hardly changed anything at all. He was watching Lando with a carefully neutral expression on his face, much unlike the noblemen gathered at the edges of the room, who were looking at Lando, and subsequently Oscar, with clear disdain in his eyes.

Lando figured it had probably something to do with the fact they were absolutely covered in dirt and muck, and were trailing a steady trail of mud behind them.

“Your Majesty,” Oscar says, when they finally reach the front of the throne room, bowing deeply. He looked relaxed, at ease, but Lando knew him better, now. Could see the tight way he was holding his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly. He wanted to reach out so badly, run his fingers over Oscar’s back, pull him in for a hug, tell him it was all going to be okay.

But now was not the time, or the place.

“Dad,” Lando says, doing a little mock salute, and the king rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching up ever so slightly.

“When my scouts returned with news of your freedom, I didn’t quite believe it. Especially not when I then did not hear anything for months. I am glad to see you are well, son,” he says, nodding at Lando.

Lando nods back, and feels. Well, he’s not sure what he expected, perse. Maybe a little more enthusiasm. A tear would be nice. Maybe even a hug. He had been locked in a tower for the past five years, after all. But he should’ve known better. His father had never really been a caring man. Especially not since Lando wasn’t the successor to the throne.

“Sir Piastri,” the King addresses Oscar, “I want to-“

Oscar clears his throat. “Just Oscar, Your Majesty.”

The King looks surprised. “Excuse me?”

“Just Oscar,” Oscar repeats, fidgeting with his hands a little. “I am not a knight.”

“Oh,” the King said, frowning. “Duke, then? Earl? Baron? Lord?”

Oscar shrugs a little helplessly. “Really just Oscar, Your Majesty. I uh. I’m a Blacksmith, so. Those generally don’t have titles.”

“He does have a sick ass hammer,” Lando pipes up. By the look his father gives him he concludes it’s probably not helpful.

“But you are the man who saved my son from his entrapment in a tower guarded by an evil dragon, right?” The King asks, looking at Oscar a little suspiciously.

“Uh, sort of, I guess,” Oscar says, shrugging a little bashfully.

“What do you mean, sort of?” The King asks, and he’s starting to look pretty exasperated.

“Well, first of all, the dragon wasn’t evil. She was quite nice actually. Turns out she was just really lonely. Managed to convince her to let Lando go by giving her one of the swords I’d made. She was very excited. Told me she was going to use it to impress the other dragons, try and make some friends and all that,” Oscar explains, looking a little sheepish.

The King looks a little baffled. “You traded my son… for a sword?”

“It was a very pretty sword,” Lando pipes in. “With like. Emeralds and stuff. Was almost a little jealous of the dragon, really.”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “I told you, I will make you another sword when I get back to my workshop.”

Lando beams. “With emeralds and stuff?”

Oscar looks at him, and a bit of the tension has fallen of his shoulders, there’s little crinkly smile lines by his eyes, and Lando has to suppress the insane urge to like. Kiss his nose. “With emeralds and stuff.”

The king clears his throat, shaking them out of their little bubble. “Send it to the castle when you do, Mr… Oscar.” He says, eying Oscar a little unsurely. “I will make sure it gets to prince Lando.”

“Oh,” Oscar says. “Yes, sure. Of course, Your Majesty,” he does a jerky little bow as he says it, and the tension in his shoulders comes back in full force. He’s very purposely not looking at Lando, instead focusing somewhere on a spot right above the king’s shoulder.

Lando frowns. “Dad, I was thinking, uh, maybe I could go with him? To his workshop, I mean. For a while. Preferably like, a long while. ”

The king raises an eyebrow. “Why?” He asks, confused.

Lando glances at Oscar, who still isn’t looking at him, but who’s shoulder have moved back down an inch again. He thinks back to the first time he saw Oscar, in the door opening of his little tower room, bathed in the light coming through the tiny little window. Remembers the soft smile on his face, the warmth in his eyes as he said. “Prince Lando. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Home, back then, had meant the exact castle they are standing in right now. But things had changed, over the two months it took them to get here. Home became a person, instead of a place. Home became calloused hands that wiped Lando’s tears, treated his wounds, that one time they got ambushed by savages and Lando got stabbed.

Home became two arms that held him on cold nights, when making a fire was too dangerous and the only way to keep warm was to cuddle close. Home became a mouth that twitched up into a smile every time Lando said something stupid, a mouth that had kissed him for the first time not even two days ago, when Lando had nearly lost his life to a particularly persistent mountain troll.

Home became two eyes that were currently still fixed on the spot just above the king’s shoulder, but that were usually looking at Lando with so much love Lando occasionally felt like he was going to explode from the intensity of it.

“We fell in love,” Lando says, simply, grabbing Oscar’s hand as he says so, letting the rough feeling of his fingers ground him.

The king pinches the bridge of his nose. “Lando,” he says, voice exasperated. “You know you can’t go with him. You can’t marry a commoner,” he says the word like it’s something dirty. “You would have to give up everything. Your life, your place in the castle. Your title.”

“Okay,” Lando says.

“What?” The king says. It’s a word he seems to be repeating a lot today. Lando almost feels a little bad for him.

“Okay,” Lando says. “I can do that.”

“But,” The king frowns. “You would just give up your family like that?”

Lando suppresses the urge to snort. His family left him stuck in a tower with a dragon for five years. He used to dream, up there, that his brother would come bursting to the door to rescue him. Or his sister. His father. None of them ever did. He’s not sure he’s the one doing the giving up, all things considered. After all, they gave up on him, first.

“Yup,” he says, popping the p.

The king’s frown deepens, and he rubs his hand over his mouth. “Are you sure?”

Lando glances at Oscar again, who’s looking back at him now.

Oscar, who actually showed up for him, negotiating with the dragon and bursting through the door of Lando’s stupid tower room. Oscar, who kept showing up for him time and time again, after. Oscar, who is looking at him with an almost surprised, slightly starstruck look, like he can’t quite believe Lando is choosing him despite everything they went through.

Lando tightens his grip on Oscar’s hands and lifts it to his face, presses his lips against Oscar’s fingers, which are rough and callused and will hold Lando like he’s something precious. Oscar’s eyes never leave his face, and Lando slowly lowers their hands again, before turning back to his father.

“Yeah,” he says, trying not to sound too giddy about it all. “I am.”

[pbandjesse]

Today was a very very rainy and foggy day. Shockingly so at times. I am cozy in bed now. And I had a pretty nice day. It was a lot busier then I expected. But that was not a problem.

We got home around 1. I was falling asleep in the car but fighting it. We brought our stuff upstairs and got stuff out away. I took a shower and washed my hair and was asleep pretty quickly. We were beat and we both had to be up in the morning.

I dont remember James leaving. But they would text me when they were safely at work. I woke up at 9 and felt pretty alright. I was not as overwhelmingly exhausted like I expected. I got washed and dressed and felt good.

I did not have breakfast. I felt a little to stressed for that. I thought maybe I would grab something before the market but I just packed a yogurt and hoped for the best.

It was raining very hard and I was very surprised. I just didn't think the drops would be so large. So I was a little worried. I left a bit early to give myself time and figure out where to park and everything at the museum. And I'm glad I did.

I could not figure out how to get to the building. I looked at the map and had to loop a few times before I finally figured it out. And it was absolutely pouring so I was a little stressed when they said we had to go around the back of the building. Two of the other venders were waiting in their cars to see if the rain let up at all. But it didn't seem like it was going to. So once I spoke the the coordinator I just got my wagon and started loading up. Someone form the musuem carried my one picnic basket and I just walked with purpose and tried to get inside without being soaked.

Once everything was in I brought my wagon back to the car and drove my car to the street. I grabbed an umbrella and went back to the museum up the hill. I absolutely forgot my umbrella at the museum which I'm only mildly annoyed about. But it is alright. I have many umbrellas.

I set up pretty quickly. In about 10 minutes. And I was very happy with my display. The other couple venders were setting up still so I had some time to wander the house.

This place was very cool. This was a summer home in the 1800s. And the styling was just so cool. I loved seeing all the details. And the use of color. Some really darling features that I loved so much. For sure inspo for our future home.

We would have some foot traffic! I was honestly a little surprised only because the weather was so crumby. But my theory that it would make people come inside did seem partially true. And I was able to give out my card a while bunch and talk up a few workshops and private classes and commissions. And I did sell a few things. Not a ton but I am whole from the table cost of this week and last week with a little extra on top. So I didn't feel so defeated. Plus I was just having fun.

The woman next to me owns a jewelery store I actually am familiar with! It is a little shop inside the Mt Vernon marketplace. And she was such a big and lovely personality. She wanted all of us to be best friends and honestly by the end I swear we were. When it was quiet or slow we were all giving each other suggestions for business ideas and talking about how running businesses is and what matters to each of us and it was just such a lovely environment and energy and I really needed that bit of community. It just felt really good.

It was a short market but I felt like I got a lot out of it. Plus there was a live harp player and that was lovely to hear. I also got to see them open the big front door with a comically giant skeleton key and it made us loading everything out a lot easier. And it wasn't raining as much.

I went down and got my car and as usual, I was the first one in and the first one out. I packed up very quickly and was out of there. Lovely to meet everyone and followed each other on Instagram to keep in contact for the future.

I was starving though. My little yogurt did keep me from being woozy but I needed to eat and last night all I wanted was a hoagie. So that is what I went and got.

I drove out to Towson and got a Wawa hoagie. I was a little frustrated that I didn't have as much water left as I thought. But it was fine and I enjoyed my sandwich in the car while it continued to get foggier and foggier.

I would go home after that. I was surprised how terrible the weather was. I checked in with James about coming to get them from work. And that was decided.

So I went home to wait the hour before it was time to pick them up. I put some stuff away. Charged my phone. Hugged on sweetp. And at 4 I left to get my husband.

I was very happy to see them. And them me. And Angie was there!! I'm going to miss her when she leaves next month so I was really glad I got a hug today. Love Angie. And me and James went home.

We had about an hour here before we were going to see two houses. I chilled on the couch and tried to not lose the small amount of energy I still had.

But soon we were heading to Patterson to see the first house.

And I really liked this one. Like it was a flip but a nice one. Like they actually seemed to care. It was a little boring but I saw the potential. And I loved a lot about it. I am not making any decisions but man. This one seemed great and just weird enough that I can use a lot of decoration to bring back the original charms without having to worry about major plumbing or electrical issues.

We had another to see but this one was not good. Very very narrow. It almost felt like three studio apartments stacked on top of each other. This was just not it. But we used it as a spot to discuss what we were doing. Money, budget, hopes, dreams, all of that. We decided to look at a house I found that's a little farther east then we originally thought we would want. But it looks really nice in pictures so I think it's worth checking out.

The problem I'm having emotionally though is I'm very tired so everything feels more. And James loved the other house from last week so much so them not loving this one that I like, even though they say they like it, makes me second guess. They said they are struggling with seeing it staged with furniture which is fair, I had to really do some picturing to make it work on my head. But I really could see us happy there and getting to do the fun projects and decorating and all of that we want to do.

We left there and I asked them a question about decorating but they answered a different question about the house itself. Like they didn't understand what I meant and I spiraled a little. Worried. Dad called me and that helped distract me for the moment but once I was off the phone I was trying not to be sad and try to talk through what they were thinking.

I requested we go to a diner so they took me to tambers and we got sandwiches there. We looked at Pinterest and talked about what that house would accomplish for us. And I tried to see that they did like it, I was just feeling a little misunderstood.

I was also just exhausted and wanted to go home. It was still pouring but we got back here in one piece and relatively dry.

James went to finish the laundry and I took a shower. Got cozy in bed with the warm laundry and tried to feel better.

We talked and it helped. But I am very dehydrated right now and it's starting to give me a headache. So it is time to sleep.

We have a chill day tomorrow. And I'm looking forward to it. I hope you all have a nice night tonight and stay safe wherever you are. I love you all. Goodnight.

[kmagsy-moved]

your psc secret santa again!

it's cool learning more about kmag! he's always kind of existed in the periphery for me, so it's nice to see who else is out there for the 2023 season. and ofc hearing why you adore him! i think i'm definitely getting an idea of what to make for your gift :)

some extra questions for funsies, no pressure to answer!

what impresses you most in a gifset? (e.g., good colouring, motion graphics, pleasing layout, etc)

when/why did you start watching f1?

do you celebrate christmas? if so, what are your favourite christmas traditions? and if not, what do you celebrate and what are your fav traditions for that holiday?

if you were stuck on an island and could only bring 5 things with you, what would you bring?

finally, just a heads up: i'm really hoping to get this to you by the 25th, but the workshop (as it were) is about a week behind on . everything 😅 definitely will get it delivered by the 31st!

hope you're taking care of yourself!

cheers x

hello hello ! hope you've had a good week :) dropping under the cut

hehe always happy to bring kmag into focus for people, even if it is just for the course of this gift ! he's such a gem

honestly whatever !! lmao i'm easily impressed and just love anything. vibrant coloring and sexy typography are delicious. i do really love stuff i'm not very good at/don't do often- like layout and motion graphics. but really everything. i love seeing other people's style

i'm a pretty new fan, i started watching just towards the end of summer break this year. my best friend basically talked so much about their favorite drivers so much that i went ok, fuck it, i'll watch dts and some interviews for you and then i ended up falling face first into the sport.

i do celebrate xmas, yeah! i really love just spending time with my family- my mom makes cinnamon twists and we eat and drink coffee before opening gifts together and its just really nice to sit around with my parents and siblings :)

oh god i'd be totally fucked but: a tent, a really sharp axe, some nature guidebook applicable to wherever i am, flares (lots of flares), and a bed. im probably not surviving this so i'd like to be able to at least have a little comfort, ok.

no problem !! i'm excited to see what u create, take your time and try not to overwhelm yourself <33

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (3)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(some people liked chapter 2 so here’s chapter 3. whether or not there’s a chapter 4 is dependent on if this one gets any comments/reblogs.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re not exactly sure when your plans for a house shifted from ‘maybe a two story house’ into ‘some kinda roman temple/shrine type building’ instead. 

Probably after the third time you had to tear down what you were building because it just didn’t look right. You’d initially not been able to go anywhere with the white quartz (you’d made a base but it looked stupid so you’d tossed it) so you’d switched it with a birch wood. That was where the problems started. First you’d tried your hand at making a cute little cottagecore house, but it just didn’t look cute to you and instead came out kinda frumpy? So you scrapped it, even though it pained you. 

“Hours wasted.”

Then you tried making another house, this one taller and with dark wood. But it ended up looking like some kind of Viking home, no matter how much you tweaked it, which totally clashed with the vibrant floral scenery around you. It would work better in a snowy biome. So you’d scrapped that one too, none too happy either.

“Why do I suck?”

Then you’d tried your hand at making a cute mushroom house! But…. it was awful. No matter what you did it just didn’t look right?? You tried making the stem ‘natural’ like it would look in minecraft but then it looked too artificial to you. Then you tried making it look more normal but then it just ended up looking wonky. Long story short.. you hated it. You scrapped it, maybe a little more angry than the previous two times. That was when you’d gone back to the white quartz blocks.

And you started with a huge square, then that sorta morphed into a circle. Or as ‘circular’ as this world’s building blocks could get. Then it just sorta.. went from there? Before you knew it you had a circular white temple/shrine with a domed and tiered ceiling and four tall stained glass windows with star and sky designs. You’d gotten into the construction as it had begun to be more fun. You’d even hung lanterns by chains from the ceiling in symmetrical points and it gave the whole place a nice vibe you think. Especially when it started raining outside.

Once it was all done to your satisfaction you just sat in the middle of the quartz floor and gazed up at the gently swaying lanterns. You’re glad you’d ended up with this place, it looks pretty and has a calm vibe you can resonate with. 

It would be dawn soon so you decided since you were done you’d go to bed since you had nothing else to do at the moment. Or well that had been the plan until you placed down your bed and couldn’t help but notice how utterly ridiculous a single bed in the corner of this huge temple looked. It actually made you snort before deciding then and there you needed a bed that somewhat matched the temple aesthetic you guessed you were going for now.

-0-

You ended up making this huge canopy bed with curtains and a platform you had to walk up a step to get to the three beds you’d put on it to look right. Under normal circumstances you’d not like such an overly lavish bed but it certainly fit the almost regal aesthetic your new temple home had. Which was just fine you supposed, it’s not like you were opposed to it. Just not what you’d planned to do from the get go.

Only problem now was.. the place still looked weirdly empty of life. Like one of those barren ‘minimalism’ nightmare homes rich people get off to. So you went through the inventory and started looking for stuff to decorate with. On the wall to the left of the entrance you set up an area for a brewing stand and cauldron as well as an ender chest, mostly just because it looked cool with the purple particles. You also hung up some item frames on the wall by the quartz counters you set up and picked out a bunch of pretty colored potions to hang in them.

Then on the opposite wall you made a little library with an alcove in the middle for an enchantment table. With a lantern on top of the bookshelf next to the crafting table and clay pots of flowers on the uppermost bookshelves to give the area a nicer look. You even added some fluffy carpet in front of the area to enhance the comfiness. And when you went over to the front door and then turned to look at the whole space you smiled because it really did look good. Larger than you’d intended, sure, but also very comfy now too.

You think you’re done with the inside until you look up at the bare walls between the stained glass windows. They were a little… naked. So you tried hanging up some paintings but… they looked terrible. The ‘round’ angle of the windows kept the options for what paintings you could put up pretty narrow. So you forgot that idea and instead tried putting up item frames! But you put some up and disliked it almost immediately. It felt way too busy so you got rid of those too. 

You were getting tired of decorating so you just grabbed a random banner (purple because why not?) and then you grabbed a handful of different colored dyes before pulling out a loom. You tried a bunch of different designs, threw out most of them because they either ended up with ugly clashing colors or looking way too busy. But you finally settled on one that was a purple banner with an orange gradient coming up from the bottom and finally a gold sun right in the middle. It looked very pretty, like a sunset!

Once you were happy you hung a couple inside then on a whim you even hung a couple outside your door on either side. It made the outside look prettier in your opinion so once you were done (for real this time) you went and just flopped into bed, not feeling more than a touch tired but with nothing else to do at the moment. So you snuggled into your big cozy bed and drifted off to sleep~

-0-

Days passed since you built your home and you kept up work around the village, planting bamboo and berry bushes in a wall around it in a circle as a form of defense against the Illagers. They were kinda jerks and seemed to only want to kill villagers. Which wasn’t cool. And yeah you could have dug a moat or pit around it instead you guessed but you didn’t want any of the villagers falling in and you felt like they would… 

So a wall of bamboo and prickly berry bushes it was. And it works! And looks dope. So win/win.

And it was as you were on your way to put some lights at the bottoms of the ponds and rivers that you noticed it from the corner of your eye. One of your sunset banners! But it was hanging up outside of the weaponsmith’s place instead of on your temple home where you knew you left it. But then you noticed another one hanging up outside the stonemason’s workshop…

You look over at your home up on the hill and see your banners still in place. And you know none of them trudged all the way up there just to steal one from the inside so you decide to investigate more in the village. And the further you walk in the more banners with your pattern on them you see. Actually every building you pass has at least one hung up somewhere near the door. You blinked before chuckling a little and thinking to yourself,

‘Oh! They all must have seen the banner I made and liked it! So they made their own to hang up. That’s actually pretty cute. I’m glad they like it.’

You were blissfully ignorant to the fact that the villagers have started to see you as their saint of sorts. Their goddess of prosperity and kindness. Without whom they would still be lost and living in pathetic huts and with no drive to acquire a skill and better themselves. They honestly look back on those times as such a dark period of their lives. When they were ignorant of their own abilities without your blessing to guide them. They owed you their lives and they wanted to show their thanks to you.

So when they saw you put up your sunset banners on your temple they quickly went to the shepherd and asked him to make them some just like it! And the shepherd, with his skill being a master thanks to your wonderful trading help, was easily able to craft such banners. Every villager had at least one by the time the sun was going down, all of them proudly being hung on the outsides of their homes and work buildings to show their allegiance to you!

But it wouldn’t stop there. The villagers wanted to give back even a fraction of what you have given to them.

-0-

In the following weeks you definitely noticed the villagers acting… odd. It started small at first, with them each coming to you and giving you gifts. The shepherd gave you a pair of blankets that were beautifully crocheted with this fluffy wool yarn, one that’d been dyed a soft baby pink while the other was a soothing sea foam color. You thanked him with a smile three times over and he seemed endlessly happy you liked them. You took them home and laid them across your bed and liked the pop of color they provided your space.

Though after that the farmer and leatherworker both met you at the entrance to your temple and each gifted you some things they thought you’d like. The farmer happily handed over a full basket of freshly baked bread along with another basket containing a bushel of golden carrots and almost a full melon’s worth of glistering melon slices. While the leatherworker offered up a pair of dainty leather sandals that looked like they would lace up your legs to just below your knees. And also what looked like a prettily crafted leather utility belt! It had lotus details and golden studs and buckles on the front and back. And one large pocket, one medium zipper pocket, and two smaller pockets. You loved all of their gifts and thanked them both over and over while safely putting the food away (and maybe eating some bread right then) and putting the slippers and belt on. 

You were beyond grateful and thought that was the end of that.

You… were wrong.

-0-

As the days turned into weeks you were lavished with more and more offerings. It took you a while to realize that’s what they were; offerings. You got a little uncomfortable with all the gifts after a bit but when you started to refuse them the villagers looked so sad so you began to accept them again. Especially after they tried to make ‘better’ stuff for you after your initial refusal, under the impression the last ones weren’t good enough for you or something. It started to get hard to take in all the gifts, because sometimes you weren’t available in the village (you still liked to explore) or because you were working on something and they couldn’t reach you. So as a solution you set up a double chest outside your temple for them to put the gifts in. 

They eagerly adapted to that and each night you’d clean out the chest, putting away practical gifts and discreetly getting rid of ones you had WAY too many of. Like the food. You had a full double chest of food and you didn’t need anymore, but saying so would probably hurt their feelings. So this was the easiest way. Plus a lot of the gifts you actually DID like. Like the sandals, hip pocket belt, and the pretty white dress you were currently wearing. The under part of it was just a simple white sleeveless mini dress that went above your knees (you’re not sure it was that shirt when you first tried it on..) and the over part of the dress was a sheer white maxi dress with loose ruffled sleeved that hung off your shoulders, and a slit on each side that helped with ease of movement.

You’d taken to wearing the dress, the hip pocket belt, and sandals every day. They were all comfortable and looked pretty good on you now that you think about it. Not to mention the fabric was light and breathable too, which helped keep you from getting too hot. You’re not sure what kind of fabric it’s made of, but whatever it is it’s light enough to not make you sweat but it’s also heavy enough to keep you from getting cold when it’s windy. Regardless, it’s your go-to outfit these days.

But aside from the offerings and stuff, you had to sit down and really examine your current position. You really took the time to pay attention to how the villagers were treating you. And you eventually came to the conclusion that they were treating you like some kind of saint or deity. They gave you the best of their wares as offerings, they took on your banner as their own (presumably as a show of loyalty), and they almost seemed to worship the ground you walked on. This isn’t even mentioning the statues that they’d put up of you… Like, they were good! Very well done and made of polished white quartz but.. it was still strange. Though like everything else you can’t say you weren’t getting used to it all.

You sighed and rolled with it. 

-0-

You realized one day you’d never been to the Nether. And you wondered if the rules here (like mobs not bothering you) was also true there? You couldn’t deny you were sorta excited to go see, but also scared. You HATED the freaking Hoglins when you played Minecraft before this place. They were always so aggressive and you can’t count how many times they’d killed you, the bastards. But your curiosity won out over your anxiety so you grabbed the enchanted diamond pickaxe you’d been given and then paused while grabbing a stack of gold bars.

“Wait I need to wear gold right? Or the Piglins will be all mad,” you said as you grabbed a gold helmet from your inventory.

You thoughtlessly went to put it on but jerked the helmet back when it clanged against something hard. Something hard that made you wince as a small shock of pain went through your skull. A curse left your lips as you asked out loud what the fuck THAT was about. You were in the middle of trying to come up with an explanation when you reached up with your free hand and flinched when it came into contact with something on your head. Something that 200% was NOT your hair or skull. Panic bubbled inside you and your stomach sank into your feet as you whipped the gold helmet up to look into its polished surface to see yourself.

Horns? Little blunt horns… On your head. 

With a shaky hand you reached up, sort of hoping this was just a dream. But when your fingertips brushed against the soft velvety texture of the horns your breathing grew faster and you pulled your hand away like you’d been burned. You dropped the helmet, not even hearing it clatter against the floor as you stumbled back, nearly tripping over the step that led up to the platform your bed was on, but you somehow managed to get to the bed and sit down.

Before you knew it you’d burst into tears and buried your face into your hands, sobbing and unable to cope with this new fuckery. 

You’ve had to deal with so much weird insane shit since ending up here, wherever the fuck HERE was. You were honestly so tired. You’ve done your best to stay calm, stay sane, and just keep going. And for the most part you have! You focused on surviving, building, and dealing with the villagers. You’d probably feel silly for breaking down over some dumb horns later, especially after you’d barely batted an eye over your weird ears, teeth, and EYES. But the breakdown was probably more to do with life deciding to give you another slice of bullshit despite your overflowing plate. At least that’s what the logical part of your mind was thinking.

But the illogical part, the emotional part, was just so done. So you cried and cried and cried your very soul out until no sound was leaving you anymore. And then, once you were cried out and exhausted you weakly crawled onto the pillows and just passed out. 

You’d deal with this new shit later.

-0-

Far on the outskirts of the opposite side of the village from your temple a young boy with golden hair stumbled across the entrance to said village. 

He’d never seen this village before and was curious. He’d have gladly stormed in and started going through villager chests for loot but it was getting close to dusk and his older brother said he needed to get back asap. Now usually he’d shrug off his brother’s bossy nature but he’d sounded worried so he decided to hurry and get back before it got too late.

But before he turned and left he marked down this village’s coordinates so he could get back to it later..

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tag list:

@salinesoot​ @lady-bee-fechin​ @kacchasu​ @putridjoy​ @lunawritesstories​ @galaxypankitty3030​ @paradigmax​ @zachariethememerie​ @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107

[gedankenspaziergang]

Diversmagazin Interview  Translation

Diversmagazin released an interview with director Sarah Blaßkiewitz and Head-Writer Jasmina Wesolowski today. Read it here in German.

Jasmina (she/her), DRUCK writer since season four and head writer since season six together with Jonas Lindt. In a writers Room with Paulina Lorenz and Raquel Kishori Dukpa (Jünglinge)

Sarah (she/her) director of the last four episodes from season six

I’m leaving out the general introductory questions.

Alicia: Can you talk about the writing process? And what’s the most important thing for you while writing and telling stories?

Jasmina: We especially wanted the profound exchange with young adults who represent our protagonists. For season six we had the challenge that we wanted to tell the lovestory of a Gambian-German girl and a Vietnamese-German girl, perspectives that aren’t represented in the writer’s room. That’s why we talked a lot to research partners, to make up for our lack of knowledge/ experience, but we also talked to the actors and actresses.

Alicia: Why do different directors work on DRUCK?

Sarah: We try to produce as much in real-time as possible. And of course, we have to pre-produce but still have to work [overlappingly]. While one director is already in the editing phase, the next one already starts to shoot. Another reason is of course, that this way, also in the writer’s room, there’s more space for diversity.

 Alicia: It’s similar to the writer’s room. You’re also dividing the writing of scenes between different people. … Are you working together with racism and LGBTQIA+ experts?

Jasmina: I think we all have blind spots and that it’s absolutely impossible to end up with a perfect result. It was an important first step, that the Jünglinge collective joined. They are big advocates for queer BIPoc representation in German media. They were always present for feedback loops and made all of us, crew, actors and actresses, participate in an anti-racism workshop. We were lucky to have the brilliant author and anti-racism trainer Arpana Berndt, who advised us on these topics. On top of that, we did a lot of research on different topics. I think now it should be the only way to produce movies and shows this way, with an intensive research phase. This way you don’t appropriate the stories of others and also don’t tell inauthentic stories or, in the worst case, use hurtful clichés/stereotypes. It was helpful and needed that Black perspectives were present also behind the camera – Sara as a director, but also in the social media team, make-up department or costume design. But we are also aware that more can be done.

Sarah: It’s important to me to highlight the make-up and costume design department. When I, an afro-German person, joined this project and met other afro-German women in those departments, who can relate to me, the character of Fatou and Ava, I was really glad. I can say from many years of experience that that’s not a given.

 Alicia: How about experts on LGBTQIA+ issues?

Jasmina: To talk a bit about the process: We were set on Fatou being a lesbian pretty early on, and that was already discussed in the earlier writer’s room, where that perspective wasn’t present yet. In the beginning, those were loose ideas, and we had to implement them with the casting. The casting team Raquel Kishori Dupka, Melek Yaparak and Angelika Buschina worked closely with the directors and contacted different institutions and specifically asked for actors and actresses who could be queer. At this age this is of course a super sensitive topic. You don’t want to force young people to [define themselves/come out]. It’s a huge challenge to handle that with care and it was extremely important that the Jünglinge collective was part of the casting process.

But also, apart from the casting process, we profited a lot from the queer people in the writer’s room in the cast.

Sarah: For my part I asked the authors and queer people “What would you like? What is nice? What hurts? What’s important? Or what have I never seen before?” And then I put those different experiences into the different scenes. On top you of course need common sense (?) to portray something that you haven’t experienced yourself.

 Jasmin: I just thought of a small really beautiful example: How Fatou was given these rainbow socks as a Christmas present. You immediately notice, that was the idea of a queer person who knows what non-queer parents give to their kids as gifts. The fans notice: Queer people were in the writer’s room. Or “Ah, these actresses know, what they’re doing.“ And those are the small things that make a difference.

 Alicia: For sure! In DRUCK you notice that queer people were part of this in really subtle ways, and that [resulted] in really nice fan-moments. I can confirm that.

Right now, the community is discussing the conflict between Mailin and Ava a lot. What role does that conflict play for you and what does it teach us?

 Sarah: I’m editing the last episodes right now, so I really feel it, also because you already see the reactions online.

For me, the conflict is important because it shows over a long period of time, that not everything is always only good or only bad. That it takes a lot of time, patience and confrontation to understand all nuances of that kind of conflict.

That Ava could be prevented to outright say what’s bothering her, because we’re talking about a really serious trauma of exclusion. How do you even tell people really personal stuff when you were bullied for years? And now we have that conflict, that seemingly takes forever, and you’re always asking yourself: “Why aren’t they talking to each other?” But it’s only in real time that you realize how hurtful this conflict is. How hurtful it is what they experience. What racism means, and also what it means to [deal] with that topic as a white  German girl. And I think it’s really important that everyone is going through that with this season. That takes time and sometimes hurts. And you don’t always understand Ava and you don’t always understand Mailin. When we really [dedicate ourselves to understand this conflict] then I think, we can experience what for example a person like me experienced their whole adolescence. I’m not saying I was bullied my whole adolescence, and maybe it wasn’t because of the color of my skin, but because of something else. But that went on for half a year. After being bullied in school for half a year you’re not up for school and your classmates anymore. And you don’t talk to them anymore. And if people realize that because of this season then I’m glad. I think it’s really touching that this conflict takes up so much space.

 Jasmina: I found it really interesting what you said about the nuances, because it was a real process for me to learn how many facets this conflict has. And especially that us white people, who grow up in a society with structural racism, have a particular idea about what racism means. And that’s not a detailed and uncritical perspective of that topic: As soon as you call me racist, I feel attacked and start defending myself.

The role that this conflict played for us was to show how incredibly exhausting it is as a Person of Color, to always have to deal with these problems and that there’s a kind of fatigue, that you don’t want to talk (or should want to talk) about certain topics anymore, especially if you have other things going on in your life on top of it.

On the other hand, we have Mailin, who has a strong desire to understand. She’s not aware of her privileges as a white girl. We want to take this journey together, when she starts to realize things and when she goes through different stages; until she understands, what it is really about. We also have an arc there that isn’t finished. Because in real life, you have to deal with some topics over and over again. We think it’s especially important to show that it’s not the job of Black people to explain racism to their white  friends. By now, they have all the resources to educate themselves and to talk with other white people about this topic, to unburden Black people.

 Alicia: That’s really interesting! The lovestory of Kieu My and Fatou is an important part of season six, which many queer young adults love. How is the relationship between Fatou and Kieu My representative for a generation?

Sarah: I can actually also see it in an older generation. When I send the cuddle clip of Kieu My and Fatou to my grandpa, he says “Wow, how amazing that a Viet-German and a Afro-German girl are lying in bed together, talk in German and are in a relationship.” This generation hopefully isn’t alone anymore, for example in the sense of: being the only Afro-German person in a small city. That changed and now we see it in that second and third generation. And that’s why it shows me something very real and beautiful.

 Alicia: Which scene are you really proud of and why?

Sarah: My favorite scene, and one I’m really proud of and that was really important concerning the pressure of school, was with the main character Fatou. It’s about a path of finding yourself from Fatou and a [Reinigungsmoment] with her brother. Two people, who know each other from the moment of their birth, are sitting together. When I read that scene I thought yes, I can relate, I can feel that, and when we shot that, a world opened for me. And that was partly because of the music, which was decided before we shot this scene. Then we shot it and it was fucking cold, but we shot it again and again but every time we really felt it like the first time. And when I now watch that scene while editing, it really is the perfect moment. Every facial expression is perfect, every reaction. And that’s that kind of truthful (?) moment you’re looking for as an actor, actress, director or author. When everything fits.

 (There’s a script for every social media part, What’s App Chats and ideas for social media stories. )

 Alicia: When can we expect the next season and what will it be about?

Jasmina: For now, DRUCK is finished and we have to wait how it will continue. Fingers are crossed and of course we’re hoping for a new season.

[Note by me: We‘re not gonna spiral, Jünglinge looked for more writers, Black writers, on facebook a while ago. Nothing is safe but they probably don’t want to make any promises]

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. 

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost two months after moving out of Beck’s place, Peter was able to rent an apartment in the same building as Ned and MJ. It was tiny, of course, but pretty inexpensive, compared to other options he found around that area. Besides, with the money he made with Just4Fans over those few weeks, he would be able to afford it comfortably for at least a few months – largely thanks to YKWIM. He still planned on saving up as much as possible, so he put a lot of effort into making his account grow and it was working – by the end of April, he was up to five hundred subscribers.

He didn’t check to see what Beck was doing, he was too afraid to look and see him with his new boyfriend, but he got lots of comments from his old fans, who still followed Beck, telling him that the new boy had nothing on him. Again, he didn’t dare to check, but the ego boost was nice, even if he didn’t really believe them. Also, he was down to crying once every two days instead of every other day, so he was counting that as a win as well.

His apartment was still pretty empty, specially because he spent most of his time downstairs at his friends’ place, but he decorated the bathroom and his room to the best of his ability, since they would be the background of pretty much all his videos and pictures. He also bought some new lingerie sets, a few costumes and sex toys he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he was slowly figuring them out.

Aside from decorating his room and the bathroom, he also bought an armchair and placed it by the  window with a couple of pillows. It was a nice spot to spend the afternoon reading or working on his computer. The light in that apartment was great, sunlight streamed right into his living room and warmed it up nicely. As they approached the end of April, the weather was getting better everyday.

Some days, he felt happy. He felt okay with the fact that he was still doing porn and that it wasn’t a terrible crime. Sure, it wasn’t what he had planned to do with his life, but he was young, he would eventually figure things out. For the time being, he needed that gig and he couldn’t beat himself up for it. Also, it wasn’t so bad now that he was only doing solo stuff.

Some other days, though, were just – hard. He remembered all the videos that were still online and he felt awful for the sole reason that they existed. Not so much for the ones he filmed with Beck, he was somewhat okay with those, the guy was his boyfriend after all, they had sex anyway, the only difference was the camera in the room. But the other ones…

When he started filming with other men, it quickly turned into an unpleasant experience for him. He hated every second of it and always ended up feeling guilty, used and disposable at the end of the day. Beck didn’t make it any better with the way he looked at him afterwards as he told him to get in the shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons why those videos bothered him so much, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t even him in them. It was like he was watching a different person, he looked at himself and felt completely dissociated from that boy – at the same time, he looked at him and he knew – he knew – exactly what he was feeling when those were shot.

But that was a lot to unpack and he just wasn’t ready for that particular crisis.  

So in short, sometimes he was still a little unsure about how long he would be able to keep his Just4Fans account, because even though most days he didn’t feel too weird about it, sometimes it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. But that was fine, he was usually able to work around that. Also, most of his subscribers were great and didn’t make him feel like a cheap whore, so he had that going for him as well.

YKWIM was one of the good ones. They chatted almost daily, and Peter always sent him exclusive pictures and videos just because. He never posted those pictures on his feed once he sent them to him, it was their little secret. In return, he got his own collection of short videos of YKWIM finishing himself off. He didn’t know much about the person behind the videos, he’d taken to calling him daddy because most of his subscribers seemed to like it and YKWIM never complained, so it stuck.

Peter did know he lived in New York – which made him shiver – and that he was a businessman of some kind, but he also always talked about a workshop, so Peter wasn’t sure and he avoided asking personal questions. He worked most of the day and into the night, they usually talked when it was late, always around two in the morning.

He traveled a lot, too, and sometimes sent Peter small clips of his hotel rooms or the view from his balcony. In return, Peter sent him pictures of his messy bedroom and the horrible view from his window as a joke. It was nice talking to him, he always made Peter laugh – and then it often ended with a very satisfying orgasm that put him right to sleep, which was awesome.

Peter estimated YKWIM was older than Beck, but not by too much. He clearly had a fit body, which at first led him to believe he was in his thirties, at most; but he noticed YKWIM sometimes talked about the 80’s like he lived them, so he had to be at least in his forties, but Peter couldn’t be sure. He really wished he would show his face, though, it would be nice to have one to fantasize about. But then again, maybe it would ruin the whole thing.

One afternoon, after Peter spent hours taking pictures, shooting videos and editing them so he could post them over the following week, he got a message from YKWIM. He hurried to check it and was shocked to see that he had sent him yet another tip – forty thousand dollars this time.

“For you to buy pretty things so you can show them off to me.” Said the message that came with the money.

Peter almost dropped his phone when he saw it. It had been only five weeks since his last insane tip, so that made fifty thousand dollars in just a little over a month. For, like, thirty nudes. Who even was that guy?

“Wow, daddy, that’s way too much!” He added a flushed face emoji, for lack of something better to say. He was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed, even if the guy had millions to spend, there was no way just giving someone that amount of money was normal.

“That’s not nearly enough for what you’ve given me, baby.” Peter’s cheeks burned.

“I’m very flattered, but please, I really don’t think I deserve all this.” He was pretty sure he sounded pathetic, but that was how he felt, so. Yeah.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, you really, really do. You’re worth every penny.” Peter bit his lower lip, a little unsure and still a little shocked.

“At least tell me what you’d like to see from me, please. Do you have any kinks that you’d like me to perform? Don’t be shy.” He asked, even though it always made him nervous to offer that kind of thing. Sometimes people were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the weirdest requests.

But, to be fair, he had been talking to YKWIM for over a month, so he somewhat trusted him not to ask for anything too absurd.  And then again, the guy had just paid him forty thousand dollars.

“Well, if you insist...” Here it comes, Peter thought, bracing himself. “Red and gold are my favorite colors. I’d love to see you wearing them.” Oh. Not what he was expecting at all.

“Done! Anything else? Come on, there’s gotta be something else.” Again, risky move. But again, forty thousand dollars.

“I’d love to hear you. You’re always so quiet in your videos. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear you call my name.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at that request. It sounded… almost sweet? It obviously wasn’t meant like that, it was completely sexual, but out of all the wild things he could have asked for, he wanted to hear Peter call his name.

“What’s your name, daddy?”

“Tony.” Tony. Peter tested the word out on his tongue, saying it out loud once, twice. Tony. It suited the image he had created in his head. Tony.

“I can definitely do that, Tony. Anything else?”

“Buy yourself something pretty and send me a picture wearing it. Nothing sexual. Something you’d wear to a date with me.” Peter’s breath hitched. He supposed it was probably just a weird, rich people kink or something, but his mind went wild anyway. Very, very wild.

“I don’t know what I’d wear to a date with you, daddy. Any advice?”

“I like expensive and beautiful things such as yourself, baby.”

Normally, Peter wouldn’t appreciate being called expensive, like he was a thing to be bought, but he felt weirdly flattered by the answer. He promised YKW – Tony – he would send everything he requested over the next few days, and he was actually excited about the whole thing. And of course he knew that feeling was trouble, there were warning signs flashing like crazy before his eyes, but he ignored them and convinced himself that he was just having fun and he was allowed to have fun if he was going to keep doing porn. He didn’t have to feel miserable and guilty all the fucking time. He could – and should! – take some pleasure from it. He deserved it.

So the following day he asked MJ to go shopping with him, but he still didn’t tell her the whole story, he just said it was for his Just4Fans and she readily agreed to go. They went to Victoria’s Secret and Peter told her what he had in mind.

“So, how’s the job going? You’re doing okay? Not too overwhelmed?” She asked coolly as they searched through the panties section.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s different when I’m in control, you know? Like, I know my limits and I don’t need to count on other people to respect them. Well, most of the time. So it’s cool.”

Some subscribers were a little pushy sometimes, asking for things Peter wasn’t willing to do and then getting really aggressive after being told no. But it didn’t affect him as much as it did when Beck ignored his boundaries, because those pushy subscribers could be easily blocked, whereas with Beck, well. It was a different story.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to push your limits, okay?” Michelle stopped what she was doing to grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at her. “If you ever feel like stopping, for whatever reason, just do it. No matter what, you’ll always have me and Ned, understand? We’re family, we’re here for you, we’d never leave you alone. If you want to stop, we’ll figure something out together, you hear me?” The way she looked into his eyes made him understand that she really meant every single word of it.

Family. He had a family with them.

Peter felt silly tearing up in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, so he pulled her into his arms and hid his face in her neck.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he muttered, as she squeezed him a little tighter, before pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all teary-eyed on me, come on, you’ll ruin my reputation.” She looked around, sniffing, then stuck her hands in her pockets. Peter laughed halfheartedly, drying the corner of his eyes. “C’mon, there are panties to be bought.”

They spent a couple of hours searching the store, but in the end he found the perfect set. He bought some other pieces, too, for his feed, people had been asking for lingerie a lot lately, after a slightly weird phase of cat ears and tails. Once they left Victoria’s Secret, Peter was nervous because he had to tell MJ at least part of the truth to get her help with the second part of Tony’s request.

“So, listen,” he started and she turned to him, happily sipping her large coffee as they walked down the street. “I have this subscriber. He’s, like, a rich, old dude who always sends me tips and stuff. Anyway, he gave me some money and asked me to buy something nice and pose for him, but like, not in a sexual way. He wants to see me clothed.” She frowned, staring at him suspiciously. “Um. I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

She was silent for a few seconds, just looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked away discreetly, trying to avoid her mind-reading skills.

“Should I be worried?” She asked, finally. He shook his head and chuckled nervously, waving a hand dismissively.

“He’s harmless, just some lonely, old dude. So, will you help?” He looked at her expectantly. She was still frowning and definitely knew something was up, but she nodded anyway, to Peter’s relief.

“What do you have in mind?” MJ asked and resumed her stroll down the street, Peter had to jog a little to keep up.

“Something expensive and beautiful,” He quoted Tony, like an idiot, because he honestly had no idea what that meant.

“That’s oddly specific and somehow not helpful at all.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked around the busy street. “How expensive are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Very?” He answered nervously, and, yet again, she looked looked like she wanted to rip the truth out of him, but she also knew that was not the way to go with him.  

“How much did this guy give you?”

“Um. for – five thousand dollars.” He stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the actual amount, because it sounded absolutely insane and she would worry unnecessarily.

“Holy shit!? Fuck, why aren’t I doing porn?!” She screeched and Peter hurried to put his hands over her mouth, because at least three people turned around to look at them.

“Don’t even joke about that, you hear me? You have a bright future ahead of you, don’t fuck it up,” he told her seriously and she looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of being annoying, but something in the way he looked at her must have made her realize he meant it.

“Chill, I’m joking.” She patted his shoulder and looked away. “So. Five thousand dollars? We can work with that.”

He was a little scared of the weird gleam in her eyes, but followed her anyway.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping, it was a lot of fun and he even got her a pair of shoes she kept staring longingly at. She was worried they would go over the budget because she wanted him to save some of the money, but he assured her he could afford it. They managed to put together a great outfit that he was very confident about and then called Ned to meet them for dinner in the evening.

Later, they took the subway home and, for a while, he felt like a normal 20-year-old guy – happy, weightless and just a little heartbroken, like everyone was bound to be at some point in life. He was going to be okay, he realized. That thought hit him like a punch in the face and it felt fucking awesome.

He rested his head on Ned’s shoulder with a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of MJ’s hand on his thigh.

It was around midnight when he got home, which for him was still a little early, he had developed the terrible habit of going to bed well after two in the morning – he blamed Tony, but to be fair, many of his subscribers were mostly active around that time as well. He debated whether or not he should start working on Tony’s requests, he was a little tired from a long day of walking around carrying bags, but also surprisingly eager to show the older man what he got for him.

He took the Victoria’s Secret bag and displayed the new outfit on the bed. It was a simple, but beautiful lingerie set. What Peter loved most about it was the fabric – it was made of deep red satin, smooth and glossy, and it felt simply amazing on the skin.

He decided to try it on, just to make sure it fit properly.

The top was a delicate bralette, two little triangles only big enough to hide his nipples and a little bit of his pecs. It was the perfect size for him, it sat flush with his skin, no unflattering cup gaps. The panties were tiny, Peter wasn’t too sure about those back in the store, he was worried not everything would fit in it. It did, but just barely, but it actually worked in his favor, in his humble opinion. Lastly, he put on the garter belt, which was just a thin piece of fabric that went around his waist, with two straps that hung down to clasp onto two elastic bands that went around his thighs.

Since Tony said red and gold, he also put on a thick, golden choker, just to see how it would look.

Once he was dressed, he went to check in the mirror. He bit his lower lip, running his hand over the fabric that covered his chest. It felt really smooth, and the way it brushed against his nipples sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Tony’s hands on his body. They looked strong enough to hurt, but he imagined they would be gentle with him, as they traced a path from his collarbone to his neck, to wrap themselves around his throat – but not tight enough to choke him, just a promise.

He sighed, as if to check that he could still breath under the pressure, and slowly slid his hands down from his neck, brushing his hard nipples on their way down to the front of the panties – God, it was so smooth...

For some reason, he imagined Tony would be a gentle lover. Maybe it was the way he talked to him, always so charming, all sweetheart and baby, all praise and compliments. Maybe it was the way he never demanded anything, only asked nicely, all please and thank you.  

Tony wouldn’t ruin him, like he promised so many times in those last few weeks, he would fuck him long and slow, raspy voice whispering sweet praise in his ear, rough hands holding him down, hips snapping with each unrelenting thrust.

He bit his lips, knees buckling as he felt the front of the panties getting wet, while his leaking cock struggled to get free.

Well, then.

He grabbed his camera from the closet and positioned it on a tripod in front of the bed, just a few feet away, and programmed it to take pictures every five seconds. He sat on the bed, facing the camera, feet still on the floor, and just closed his eyes for a minute, letting a sigh escape his lips as the fantasy from before filled his mind again.

He spread his legs and his fingers reached down to the front of his panties again. His cock felt impossibly hard, straining against the delicate fabric, dark pink tip peeking out of over the top of the tiny underwear. He touched himself slowly, hips rocking lightly to match the pace of his own hand, as he listened to the clicks of the pictures being taken.

He had to force himself to stop, before he lost control, and moved to kneel on the bed, with his side facing the camera, and lowered his chest until it was touching the mattress, letting his back curve in a sinful arch, head turned to the side, staring right at the lens. At Tony. Imagining what he would do if he were there.

He sat back on his heels and turned his back to the camera, spreading his knees, each of his hands grabbing one ass cheek, pulling them apart, only a thin, barely there strip of fabric hiding his nakedness. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the camera to take at least a couple of pictures.

Next, he laid on his back, side facing the camera again, left hand rubbing one nipple over the silky fabric, as the right one reached down the front of the panties, to finally give himself some sort of relief. He let out an almost pained moan as he wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, once, twice, but all that teasing was driving him a little insane.

He knew he should probably take a few more pictures, but he also knew wouldn’t last much longer.

He got off the bed and went to the dresser where he kept all of his “work stuff”. He grabbed a tube of lube and a vibrator that was neither too small, nor too big, it was a size Peter was comfortable with.

He switched the camera to video mode, pressed record and resumed his position on the bed, knees on the bed, holding his lower body up, and chest resting on the mattress. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pushed the panties a little to the side and circled his hole gently, slowly, because that was how he imagined Tony would do it. Those big, rough hands would have grabbed him by the hips, put him in that exact position, before teasing him mercilessly.

He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, rubbing slow circles around his rim, pressing a little against his entrance, but not hard enough to breach it. He felt his cock pulsing, begging for attention, but he didn’t dare to touch it, not yet.

“Tony, please...” He whined, pushing his hips back against his own hand, he was so lost in his fantasy he almost forgot he didn’t need to beg. Almost. “I need you...”

Gently, he started pushing one finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, he was so aroused he barely felt the burn, just delicious pressure that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He started fucking himself on his finger, feeling the muscles around it slowly make way.

“’Been thinking about you, Tony…” he rasped out, hips pushing back against his hand. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you...” When he felt loose enough, he pushed another finger inside, the stretch becoming a little more noticeable as he slowly scissored himself open. He got on all fours and turned his back to the camera to give Tony a better view, all spread out for him, and kept fucking himself, picking up the pace once just those two fingers weren’t enough. “Fuck, daddy, need you so bad...”

He eased the fingers out of himself, sighing at the loss, and reached for the vibrator that was sitting on the bed and turned to face the camera again. He knelt on the bed and, with one hand, he propped the vibrator up on the mattress, holding it down from behind him, as with the other hand he guided its tip to his already abused hole.

He flicked the switch and it vibrated to life, nudging against his hole before finally slipping in. Peter’s breath hitched at the intrusion, feeling the delicious burn on his lower back, as he moved his hips up and down slowly, trying to push more of it inside with each painful thrust.

“Fuck me, Tony,” he begged, as his free hand finally reached for his neglected cock, pumping it hard and fast, matching the maddening pace his hips set. He lost all sense of rhythm when he felt the tip of the vibrator finally – finally – reach his prostate and he pushed it even further in, until the pressure against the bundle of nerves became too much and he exploded in one of the best orgasms he had had in a long, long time. “Oh, f-fuck!” His vision went dark for a second as he let himself fall back on the bed, wasted.

He spent almost ten minutes just lying there, trying to catch his breath and regain consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that, he was boneless, floaty, completely satisfied. It was honestly the best he felt in months.

When his legs stopped shaking, he got up and headed straight to the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and weak, but he wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished, he debated whether he should just go to bed or send Tony what he had, but with the way he was feeling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so easily. So decided to send at least the pictures right away, even though it was nearing 3AM. Peter knew Tony was probably up, the man did say that he was an insomniac and that he sometimes went days without any real sleep, so it wasn’t a surprise when he answered just a few minutes after Peter sent them.

“Holy fuck, Peter!!” Peter bit his lower lip, burying his face in the pillow to hide his blush, even though he was alone in his room.“What the fuck, baby, it’s three in the morning, are you trying to fucking kill me?!”

“So you like them?” He asked with feigned innocence.

“I fucking love them, you little tease, these are hands down my favorites yet. I swear I’m gonna have them framed and hung in my workshop and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking days just writing odes to you.” Peter giggled into the pillow, turning on his side to get more comfortable on the bed.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He joked lightly, blushing again, which was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck no! You’re something else, kitten, and you don’t even know it.” Peter suppressed a smile, biting his lower lip.

“Are you touching yourself right now, daddy?”

“To be honest, I’m so fucking hard I think I’m gonna come instantly if I even brush my fingers on my cock. I’m literally just staring at the pictures right now and worrying I’m gonna come untouched just from that.” Peter laid on his stomach and bit the pillow, gently rocking his hips against the bed.

“That’s so hot. Can I see it?”

Seconds later, there was a video in the chat. He played it immediately and, sure enough, Tony wasn’t kidding. His cock was rock hard, throbbing, the head was an angry purple, already glistening with pre-cum. Tony was just holding it at the base, not daring to touch it, and the whole thing almost made Peter hard again, but he was really exhausted.

“Fuck, daddy, I really wish I could help you with that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what I wish.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes and Peter figured he had gone to sleep, but then his phone beeped, alerting him to another message from him. It was, of course, a picture of Tony’s spent cock, resting against his belly, which was covered in come, so much of it Peter’s mouth watered.

“Was it good, daddy?”

“The best, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m gonna sleep like a baby today.” Peter chuckled. Tony always said that was high praise coming from someone who hardly ever slept and the younger man took his word for it.

“Goodnight, Tony. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it, Pete.”

He knew he was fucked the second he tried to suppress a small smile, but couldn’t.

[worldoffanfiction2021]

{Image Sources: Dong Hua: https://daydaynews.cc/en/entertainment/419895.html Fengjiu: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1196337391276429/}

The family of three deities had bid adieu to their relatives in Quingqui and taken the magical boat to Bihai Cangling. Dijun and Fengjiu had both managed to handle their respective duties and arranged for messengers to visit them here at their new place of residence, actually their real home, for the next few months. They were all very excited about it.

Fengjiu was remembering their last visit fondly. The last time she had been here, she had spent some magical time with Dijun.

Dijun was also remembering his last visit. But there wasn’t any fondness in those memories for him. He had been there was to build the Star Light ward. He had not expected to come back alive to this place, much less to come back alive with his wife and son. He looked at Xiaobai and marveled at her. It had been her who had saved him and saved his home. She was the best. He lovingly played with her hair.

Gungun saw that they were about to reach to a beautiful landscape, the likes of which he had never seen. “Father, your home is so beautiful. It’s even better than the Sky Kingdom!”, he exclaimed clapping excitedly.

“Gungun’s reaction to Bihai Cangling is just like yours when you came here for the first time.”, said Dijun smilingly to Xiaobai. "It's your home too, Gungun. It’s our home.", he added. He liked the sound of that very much.

Xiaobai noticed that a lot had changed since she had last visited. Row of fruit trees and vines had been planted - grapefruits, pears and grapes. There was a long corridor with an artificial hill. The hill really looked like a real rocky mountain, just smaller than a mountain. On either side of the corridor there were beautiful trees of foiling flowers. Spiritual birds danced to ‘paying homage to the Phoenix’ near by.

Then there was a pavilion overlooking a lotus pond. White and pink lotuses swayed gracefully in a cool breeze there. White sandalwood on each side of the pavilion gave the seating area a perfect cover from sun.

Xiaobai recalled her own words from the last time she had visited. Dijun had done everything she had asked for. She was transfixed.

When they walked a little further, her jaw dropped to the floor. Sitting atop a slightly raised platform was a house. Not just any house - the bamboo house she had drawn! Oh, Dijun!!!! She stood dumbfounded with tears in her eyes.

Dijun realized she had stopped walking and turned around. When he saw her face he asked with worry, “What’s wrong? Did I mess it up?” Forgetting about Gungun watching them, she ran forward and hugged him. She buried herself in his arms and said, “No, Dijun. No mess up. This is perfect. You made our home. Our home!” She choked on her emotions and couldn’t say anything else. Dijun smiled and planted a kiss on her head.

Gungun was watching all this and came running. “Mother and Father are kissing again. I want a kiss too.”, he giggled. Dijun picked him up and twirled him high. His giggles and Dijun’s laughter filled the space. And Xiaobai’s heart. They were home.

When they went inside, Xiaobai realized that all the basic things they had planned for, had been done. There was a study, a living room and a well-lit, well ventilated kitchen. The large kitchen window overlooked the fruit trees. There were two identical rooms - one for Gungun and another for his little brother/ sister, as Dijun explained, his eyes hinting mischievously. It made Gungun very excited to think that he would have a playmate. Then there were a couple guest rooms. Dijun and Xiaobai’s  room was a spacious suite with a large bed. A foiling flower tree was the headboard of that bed. They even had a nice little hot spring next to their room.

“Dijun, the house is great, but there’s still work to do. We have to set up the kitchen, the wardrobes and such.”, began Xiaobai. “If I do everything, what will you do?”, he interrupted her, pretending to be arrogant and tapped her forehead. Then he leaned in and whispered in her ears “But I have already done so much work here. You owe me big this time.  I will collect my dues from you at night.” Seeing her cheeks instantly color up pleased him.

There was a balcony behind their room. It overlooked a large playground with targets set up for practicing archery, an open space for sword plays and martial arts. On one side was another building. “That is a workshop where we can forge weapons. I have also placed all the weapons I have made or collected in a room in there. I am sure you will like it.”, said Dijun. She looked at him with pride in her eyes. Dijun felt that all his efforts had been completely worth it.

“I am so hungry, mother. When can we eat?”, asked Gungun. “You and Father can put your things in your rooms. I will quickly get food ready.”, said Xiaobai patting him. They all went their separate directions and got busy.

After some time they all got together in the dining room and ate a simple but delicious meal. Fengjiu had found that right next to the kitchen was a vegetable and herb garden. She had picked some fresh veggies to prepare rice porridge and mushrooms-vegetables stir fry. Some lentil cakes rounded up the meal. She had always been good in cooking. Her years in mortal realm had helped her perfect  the art of making do with whatever was available.

After they cleared up all the food, Fengjiu wanted to go to her room and take a nap. But Dijun insisted they go to the lotus pond and catch some fish. She almost suspected that he wanted to keep her away from their bedroom. “May be he has made a mess in there with all the stuff. I better not go in there or else I will end up cleaning everything myself.”, she thought to herself as she followed her guys to the pond. When they got there, she rested her head in Dijun’s lap and dozed off happily.

She woke up a little while later when tiny hands were trying to tap on her head. "Mom, wake up! Look I caught a fish!! My first ever fish!!!", Gungun was showing off with eyes wide with excitement. She couldn't help by smile at him. "I will make sweet and sour fish for dinner tonight with this. You both like it, don't you?" She said. Two heads full of silver hair nodded in fervent agreement. "Like father - like son", she chuckled.

She completely lost herself in cooking dinner. In addition to sweet and sour fish, she also made sticky rice and soup. "For Dijun and Gungun. They need this nourishment.", she told herself. All this was gobbled up pretty quickly between the three of them.

After dinner they took off for a long walk that led them back to the weapon forge. Dijun took them in and Fengjiu was like a kid in the candy store. She enjoyed designing and creating mechanical weapons. Among other things, this was something she and Dijun had in common. Gungun was quite curious and looked around with amazement. But he was slowly beginning to get tired and needed to get to bed. So they all returned homewards.

"You take him to his room and get him ready for bed. I will bring him a glass of milk. He will sleep well with that.", said Dijun. Fengjiu nodded and walked away holding Gungun's little hand. In his room, she helped him bathe and change. They both were happy they didn't need to dye his hair anymore. As she was settling him in his bed, Dijun came in with a glass on milk in his hand. He made sure Gungun finished it up. Then they both dimmed the candles, kissed Gungun sweet dreams and left the room.

When they reached the doorstep of their bedroom, Dijun gestured Fengjiu to stop. "What's wrong?", asked Fengjiu puzzled. "Close your eyes.", ordered Dijun. "Why should I?", replied Fengjiu more puzzled. "Please, Xiaobai. Do as you are told.", Dijun coaxed her. So she sighed and closed her eyes. "You are acting very weird tonight.", she said.

She found herself being lifted in his arms. She felt the door opening and he walking in with her.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Feng Jiu asked. "Not yet, just a little bit longer.", Dijun replied. She could feel the smile in his voice.

"What's going on? I am opening my eyes now." She nagged him anxiously as she felt herself being lowered on something extremely soft.

"Wait. Just a few more moments.", Dijun replied as he adjusted her clothes. "Okay, you can open your eyes now.", he said.

She was so not ready for what she was seeing. The room had been transformed. It looked like a bride's chamber on a wedding night. There was an altar placed for heaven worship ceremony. Gold, white and purple lanterns adorned the ceiling. Matching candles, flower arrangements and curtains hung everywhere. Every seat in the room and the whole bed was covered in foiling flower petals. She was draped in her wedding gown. And then as she turned towards Dijun she saw that he himself was looking extremely handsome in his wedding attire. Nothing in the room was nearly as mesmerizing as the sight of the regal man himself. He took her breath away and she could not help but stare at him open mouthed.

"I never gave you a proper wedding. I have regretted that very much.", he said huskily as he walked towards her with a purple veil. "Tonight, let's get married, Xiaobai.", he said softly as he came close and arranged the veil over her hair. She didn't know what to say or do. She was completely under his spell.

He led her by her hand towards the altar. They kowtowed to the heaven and earth. They remembered her parents and kowtowed for them. Then they bowed to each other. Very carefully he lifted her veil and took her hands in his.

"In all three eternities you are the only one who has moved my heart, Xiaobai. You, little fox, will always belong to me.", he looked deeply into her eyes and promised possessively.

She smiled with stars in her eyes and promised him back, "In any eternity I will bring you in my life. Because I love you the most Dijun, you will always belong to me."

He leaned in and planted kisses on her face. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her eyes, her nose and then covered her lips with his. He felt her respond to him and deepened the kiss. She trembled and moved closer in his arms. Slowly he moved to her ear. "Ever since I have had this dress made for you, I have imagined so many ways I would like to undress you from it.", he teased huskily. "Um? So you got this elaborate and extravagant dress made only so that you could undress me from it?", she asked pulling back and squinting her eyes at him. "HHmm.. ", he pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. "You are so... ", she started to say, but completely lost her train of thought under his hot, hungry gaze. He claimed her lips again and started undressing her.

[joonsrack]

Masterpiece | KTH x KNJ

+PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: Oneshot, crack, angst, smidge of smut, College AU, stranger to lover

+WORD COUNT: ~13k

+RATING: 18+

+WARNING: Taehyung has face blindness, NSFW, (very) foul language, overuse of the word penis and it’s synonyms, pinning, misunderstandings, Namjoon is like real’ dumb, a little hanky panky but nothing scandalous.

+SUMMARY: 

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his [REDACTED], but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung.

(OR the one where Taehyung has face blindness but that won't stop him from finding love. )

+A/N: Well, it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted anything, and almost as much time since i last wrote anything (except for the occasional guilt writing lmao). So this is me coming back with a vengeance (and the dumbest thing i’ve ever written). This is all thanks to (or to be blamed on) @minloop who put up with my non-stop messaging, gave me some plot ideas, and actually inspired me to finish this in three days. Thank you to my baby @emojihobi​ for the emotional support and the beta reading 💖

+Disclaimer: I got all my info on face blindness from google searches, so please forgive any inaccuracy.

Face blindness has definitely made Taehyung’s life difficult. 

There’s the obvious problem of not being able to recognize your parents. Remember this childhood trauma of holding a random stranger’s hands in the mall, thinking it’s your mother or father? Taehyung had to live through that many, many times; except he wouldn’t realize until said stranger would shake his hand off, or until his parents would swoop in to get him. The fact that he’s never been kidnapped is down to pure luck, really.

Making friends, you guessed it, has also been a challenge. It’s difficult explaining to kids why you ignored them when you saw each other in the hallway. Kids don’t always understand “I didn’t recognize you” as an explanation, especially if you’ve been in the same class since pre-k.

But this? This is a new and unforeseen crisis.

+

 His dorm room is very quiet, which is not unusual since he has a solo room. But he’s pretty sure he went to sleep with a plus one, and said plus one is nowhere to be seen. 

Now, he isn’t a stranger to one-night stands sneaking out after he falls asleep. He likes to take night conquests to his dorm room for this exact reason; He can go right to sleep, while they take themselves out. Easy breezy no string attached-y. That’s usually the way he wants it to be. 

But this time is different. Last night was different. Last night, Taehyung had the best night of his life, hands down. Best bangs of his existence. Bangs plural because they went more than once. How that’s even possible when his teenage years are long gone and days with multiple orgasms are less and less common, he has no idea.

He’s probably ruined for anyone else. Nothing could ever compare to the night he just spent getting his back blown out. 

Now, Taehyung is a sculptor. A very gifted one at that (if his teachers’ praises are anything to go by). Taehyung knows body proportions, knows perfect rations, all that stuff. He knows it on marble bodies, in sketches, in painting. Not on actual human beings.

Until last night.

Last night, he witnessed the body of a god. He scratched at perfect skin, held on to beautifully defined and strong arms, rode perfect thighs. Last night, he shed a tear at the view of some perfect knees. Last night, he realized that art truly imitates nature. 

And that’s not all.

Taehyung can admit he owns a nice dick; it’s decently shaped, the color is nice, and the size is slightly over average. 

But what he witnessed the night before?

The Narcissus of dicks; the most beautiful dick on the planet. The most beautiful dick in history . Probably even prettier than Narcissus’ face himself. (But Taehyung doesn’t know what Narcissus' face looks like, so he’s only assuming.) 

From the perfect red color of its beautifully shaped head to the gracefully intertwined veins leading to a sturdy looking hilt, peppered with well-kept pubic hair, ending in an exquisitely wrinkled ballsack. The girth was over average; big enough to make size queens (such as Taehyung) salivate, but not big enough to scare away enthusiasts. And the length? The dude is lucky he’s a grower and not a show-er, or he would never know peace. Mainly because the likes of Taehyung or Park Jimin would never let him be.

But where is that most perfect penis right now? 

Attached to its perfectly shaped and mysterious owner, probably miles away.

Very problematic, indeed.

+

“So what you’re saying is, you fell asleep, and when you woke up he was gone? Isn’t that how it’s usually supposed to go?” Yoongi sounds disgruntled on the other end of the face call, face half mushed in his pillow, hair disheveled and eyes squinty. It’s not yet 1 pm after all, which is still considered morning for people like Min Yoongi.

“Noooo, not this time.” Taehyung whines,” This time he was supposed to stick around and ask me to marry him in the morning. Isn’t that obvious? We went at it four times for fuck sake, doesn’t that mean anything anymore?”

Jimin chokes on his matcha oatmeal milk latte, eyes going wide. “Four times?! Now that is a monster stamina. He basically squeezed your balls dry.” There’s a pause, then he says to someone off-camera, “It’s rude to stare, ma’am.”

“Stop ruining my morning with your screaming,” Yoongi grunts out, rubbing his eyes. “So what do you want us to do about this?”

Taehyung fumbles around his desk for a moment, looking through his piles of sketches until he finds it, his only clue.

“Do you two know this man?” He asks, pulling out a sketch he did quickly off his memory of the mystery man’s body. He pulls out a second one, this one is a close-up of his perfect penis. He might have gone off tangent with the shading, but he couldn't stop himself, that dick deserves all the shading.

“Jesus fuck.” Yoongi signs.

“Baby, I’m sure you’re aware that if I knew anyone with a body and a dick like that, you would never have been able to put your dirty paws on him.”

Taehyung turns hopeful eyes to Yoongi after glaring at Jimin for a good 10 seconds, but Yoongi only shakes his head no.

“I don’t have a habit of making my friends strip around me, sadly. I wouldn’t be able to tell even if I knew him.”

“You two are useless” Taehyung signs, his body deflating. Yoongi takes offense and hangs up. Or maybe he was going to hang up either way.

“So let me recap here, you don’t know his name, his major, his department, his age, his number, nor his face. The only clue you have is this drawing, which basically looks like a textbook example of unrealistic body expectations. You apparently know every nook and cranny of his penis, but you didn’t have the decency to ask his name? You deserve this.” He cackles, angering Taehyung. 

“I was busy sucking his dick, asshole.” He spits, but Jimin only snorts in answer.

“Good luck finding the owner of Mystery Penis.” He quips back, before hanging up as well.

+

All hope is lost. Never in his life has he despised his face blindness as much as he does right now. Of course, it’s never been easy dealing with it throughout his life. He’s lucky he has two solid friends he can count on. Although Jimin regularly dyes and changes his hairstyle without warning to mess with him. And Yoongi basically has two hours of availability per week, usually arranged around his sleeping schedule. 

But he knows they care for him, and he cares for them. 

He drags his feet to class. He uses ‘class’ lightly; being a third-year means most of his courses are spent in the workshop, working on his graduate exhibition. 

He’s got his trusty overalls on, covered in clay stains. He’s been working with clay for the last few weeks, using the medium for two of his exhibition pieces. 

He greets his teacher at the front desk with a nod, before making his way to his desk. Today’s playlist consists of oldies, and he makes it to his desk just as Lionel Richie’s voice fills the room. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes.

Hello is a classic of sculpting classes. No matter the teacher or the Instructor, they all love to play that song on repeat, and he usually doesn’t pay it any mind. But right now, isn’t there a more perfect song to taunt him?

Lionel Richie asks if it’s him he’s looking for, as he’s pulling his tool out of his bag. He unwraps the plastic wrap from around the latest project he’s been working on, already planning his next move. 

He’s pretty sure the sculpting world is all over that song only because of the music video.

It’s obvious that the whole ‘blind girl sculpting’ thing– 

Oh.

Oh dear god. The music video. 

The music video.

Taehyung has an idea.

His hands move before he can fully realize the plan in his head, rewrapping his project, and getting some new clay from the front of the class.

His teacher looks him up and down in all his frantic and excited glory.

 “A sudden stroke of inspiration?” He questions, sounding curious.

“Something like that.” Taehyung smiles, trying to act inconspicuous. His teacher won’t let him take the clay if it’s not for his graduate exhibition.

He makes it back to his station without any more inquiry and starts to work right away.

Jimin was right, he does know every nook and cranny of that penis. He spent hours getting acquainted with it, and he has an excellent memory (Except for faces, obviously).

All the other students are too busy working on their final projects to notice the massive penis under construction a few feet from them. If anyone asks, Taehyung will proudly answer that it’s a life-sized depiction. But no one is asking, so he simply works on bringing the piece to life. The students in his class rarely talk to him, since he hasn’t gone out of his way to develop any type of relationship with them. It’s easier like that.

Once he’s done, many hours later, he’s alone in the workshop with the sun setting outside.

He ogles proudly at his masterpiece, the erect penis standing tall on his station, truly a creature of beauty. It’s a perfect replica, down to the ballsack wrinkles; down to the cute mole at the hilt. Of course, it’s clay-colored, and it probably won't change since Taehyung hates painting his creations, but he’s absolutely certain that everything else is exactly like the original.

The oven has been preheating for a while, so it’s hot and ready to bake some penis. The only thing left is to leave it to cure for a while. Any ol’ regular penis would have taken less than an hour to cure, but we’re talking about a monster cock here. 

He pops it into the oven, sets a timer, just in time for a knock at the door to pull him out of his penis-induced craze.

“Yo, Tae,” Yoongi’s voice resonates from the door frame.

Taehyung grabs a rag from his station to clean his hand with before making his way to his friend. There’s someone with him, and Yoongi signals at his friend with a lazy wave of his hand. 

“Remember Namjoon?” He asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. Jimin and Yoongi have taken to the habit of identifying the people they’re with, so Taehyung doesn't have to embarrass himself trying to figure it out on his own. That way, they don’t have to explain his condition to every single person that isn’t in his immediate friend circle. 

(Is it even a circle if it’s two people?) 

He sends a nod in Namjoon’s way and gets a wave back, and that’s as far as their exchange goes, as usual. Except today, his whole body language reads nervous and tense. But that’s none of Taehyung’s business.

“We’re going to see some juniors perform in a pub, you want to come with?” Yoongi asks him, and Taehyung knows he means well, but he also knows that Yoongi knows he doesn’t like crowded spaces. 

He and Jimin have tried to get him to go out more, but the only time Taehyung steps foot inside any type of alcohol selling establishment is when he wants to get laid. And there’s only one place he goes to then; that crappy little Bar near campus that’s only frequented by broke students who also want to get laid. 

He doesn’t like anywhere that’s dark where there’s enough people to make him lose sight of his friends. Something about losing his parents at the mall one too many times.

“That sounds nice, but I have to finish this piece I’m working on.” He answers, trying to sound as regretful as he can. It doesn’t really work, judging by Yoongi’s unconvinced humming. 

“Alright, careful when you go back home.” Yoongi finally answers, patting him on the shoulder. 

He starts walking away, but his friend, Namjoon, stays frozen on the spot, facing him. He’s looking at Taehyung in some kind of way, but face blindness makes it hard for him to read other’s expressions. He raises a single eyebrow in interrogation, and that seems to make Namjoon snap out of it. He turns on his heel without as much as a goodbye, which, rude .

“'Kay, bye.” He mutters after him.

But he can’t hold it against him. He knows that ‘Namjoon’ has been a long-time friend of Yoongi and that they’ve spent some time together by association. Taehyung doesn’t go out of his way to get to know new people, so there’s a high chance Namjoon might have tried to approach him with friendship in mind, only to end up frustrated by Taehyung’s lack of interest. Happens all the time. He can’t really help it, reading intentions is not in his toolbox.

He should probably tell Yoongi to share his ‘secret’ with Namjoon. He seems nice enough from what he heard, so he would probably be understanding. It should at least clear up the misunderstanding, and Taehyung might even gain a new friend, who knows?

He makes his way back to his station, works on his actual project while the oven takes care of making his penis nice and hard. 

+

The next morning, he wakes up to ten texts from Jimin, one from Yoongi, and multiple missed calls and voicemail from his workshop teacher.

 Asshole with pink hair:

9:40 am    ur crazy

9:40 am    CRAZY

9:40 am    This is hilarious

9:41 am    That’s why i love u

9:41 am    That is a beautiful dick

9:41 am    Like it was nice on paper, but the 3D version definitely makes me wonder about its  owner

10:26 am  All the student body is buzzing about the mystery penis

10:27 am  It’s on the front page of the school newspaper

10:27 am  omg you dumbass u didnt write your number

10:27 am  you didn't write your number anywhere brb dying of laughter

Hyungie:

11:32 am  You didnt write your infos dumb dumb

Taehyung bangs his head on his pillow, hoping for quick death. How could he forget to write down his infos? How is anyone supposed to contact him?

+

Namjoon has come to learn quickly that university isn’t always the most sanest place on the planet. Cramming, into a single building, that amount of genius with that amount of insanity is bound to create interesting events.

He’s stopped being surprised by most things, might be guilty of doing some of those surprising things from time to time. But today? Today is on a whole new level.

Somehow, his dick is plastered all over the school, in every hallway, on every door. Think Regina George distributing the burn book copy all over school but, multiplied by 50, that’s how many pictures of his dick are distributed around school right now. Not an actual picture of his actual dick, but an actual picture of an actual clay replica, with big bold yellow letters spelling out 'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?', and nothing else.

It’s vaguely threatening.

He wishes he couldn’t tell that it’s his penis, then maybe he could laugh with the rest of the student body. But there’s no mistaking it. One look and he knew. The person who printed those flyers made sure to include all the possible angles, too. 

It’s 100% his dick. 

The slight curve is there, the mole is there, everything is there.

The intentions of the maker are unclear, but there’s one thing for sure: he knows exactly who’s behind it. He only knows one sculptor who has seen his penis, and that’s the current bane of his life, Kim Taehyung.

It’s not enough that Taehyung has been completely ignoring his existence before their night of passion together, he’s also been ignoring him after. 

And now this? Plastering his dick all over school? For absolutely no reason? Did he not like the night they spent together? Was this a great big ploy to make fun of him? Is this Taehyung’s way to reject him? To tell him to stay away from him? He knows he’s never been really subtle with his crush, but isn’t this going way too far? 

At least he had the very, very basic decency to forgo his name from the flyers, or Namjoon might have had to run away to the next town. 

Namjoon is not dumb, he knows his ancient Greece lore and what they thought about big dicks.

Taehyung didn’t write this so people would look at the dick, he’s obviously calling him a dick.  And for what, pinning on him for the last year? Can’t a man have a crush in peace?

Maybe he shouldn't have approached Taehyung that night. 

One thing is for sure, Taehyung is sending him a very clear message to stay away from him.

+

He spent a fortune printing all those hands out, and now he has to reprint them all? Taehyung knows very well he can’t afford another round of mass printing. Plus the librarian probably won’t ever let him walk into the library again. She had to come and refill the printer at least three times in the hour he was there. The environmental club was even called on scene by one of the students waiting for his turn at the printer. Talk about a snitch.

He can’t afford to reprint everything, and there’s no way he’ll go around school writing his number by hand.

He listens to the voicemails from his teacher then, uncovering a new hurdle.

The first one goes like this:

"Kim Taehyung I know it’s you, you left that thing on your desk."

Then the second:

"Kim Taehyung, you will take down these handouts right this instant before the Dean can see them, you hear me? He'll put you on probation and my head on a stick."

Taehyung muffles his groans into his pillow. Maybe it’s a good thing he forgot to include his number. He should have thought of that before.

He throws on some clothes, heeding his teacher’s warning. He better get to school quickly.

He texts Yoongi and Jimin to take down as many as they can if they want to see him live for another day. Yoongi doesn’t answer and Jimin only texts back asking if he can keep one for his room.

Some friend circle he’s got there.

He makes it onto campus in under half an hour, and gets to work, taking them down as quickly as he can.

He’s got only a few hallways left to do when someone taps him sharply on the shoulder. He spins around, dreading the moment he comes face to face with the Dean. Not that he could recognize the Dean.

“Are you the Dean?” He stammers in a small voice.

“What? No- you. I swear to god. Just tell me if you hate me that much.” Stranger says, before putting his long leg to good use, striding away from him. He throws a bunched-up flyer on the floor before disappearing down the hallway as quickly as he’s appeared.

Taehyung is stunned for a good minutes, utterly confused

The voice sounds similar, but other than that he has no idea who just spit those words at him. He doesn’t hate anyone, and he doesn't see why anyone would believe he has those kinds of ill feelings towards them.

+

Now that his plan has miserably failed, Taehyung falls into hopelessness once again. He lays in bed, holding his precious sculpture to himself. It’s the only thing he has left from his fateful encounter. Or he thought it was fate, but now he’s wondering if that was life making fun of him. 

Jimin is laying by his side, examining the sketch of the body with clear interest. It’s making Taehyung feel a little possessive. 

“Maybe you should try again in the school gym, no one gets a body like that from not going to the gym. You could say you’re looking for a model or something.”

Taehyung stares at his friend with all the admiration he can muster. 

“I would kiss you so hard right now.”

“We tried that once, remember?”

“Yes, and that’s why I won’t be doing it, but I would, just so you know.”

“Cool.” 

He snatches the sketch out of Jimin’s hands to get to work on the shading, trying to get his drawing as realistic looking as possible. Making a whole body out of clay would take too long, so Taehyung will have to settle for his sketch. 

Once he’s done, some 30 minutes have passed. He whirl around on his desk chair, waving the sketch around successfully, only to stop dead in his tracks. He finds Jimin with his precious sculpture halfway down his throat.

“Jimin!” He exclaims, fuming. “Get your dirty mouth off my penis!”

Jimin startles and chokes in surprise, but then bursts out laughing once the sculpture is safely out of his mouth.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just really curious about the size. You never cease to amaze me.”

Taehyung snatches his precious phallus back, grabbing some tissues to wipe off Jimin's drool.

“If I can’t find him, this is going up my ass, so don’t touch it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jimin grimaces, rearranging himself on the bed. He grabs his phone to waste some time, probably ignoring his other responsibilities as the end of their final semester is quickly approaching. “You want to end up in the emergency room? Just use it to make a mold and replicate it with some silicon at least.” 

Taehyung raises both eyebrows in astonishment.

“Jimin, your genius never ceases to amaze me.”

+

He successfully drags Jimin with him to the campus gym. Normally the prospect of hot sweaty people grunting, in various states of undress would attract Jimin like a bee to honey, but since he’s already banged or broken up with half the people that go there, Taehyung has to keep a firm hold on his friend’s wrist.

“Why do I have to come with you again?” 

“It was your idea, so you’re taking responsibility.”

“I don’t like taking my responsibilities, they suck,” Jimin grumbles, but he stops trying to run away.

The moment they step into the gym, they’re assaulted by the musky smell of sweat and determination. There’s a high volume of people working out, probably wanting to channel their end-of-semester jitters into iron pumping. 

Taehyung spots the front desk, putting his business smile on while reaching into his folder. He hears Jimin greet someone, going off by himself, but Taehyung bears him no mind and heads straight for the Woman working the counter.

“Hi there,” he says, charm on, “ I was wondering if you could help me out,-”

“Yes you can put your flyers up, no you don’t have to pay for it, no we won’t take it down before the end of the semester, yes I do have some tape.” She says without missing a beat, not looking up at him.

“Damn, maybe I’m here because I want to sign up for a membership.” 

She finally looks up from her computer, assessing Taehyung from head to toe.

“No you don’t babe. Here’s the tape.” She says, handing him the tape while blowing a bubble with her pink gum. Multitasking at its finest.

Taehyung doesn’t feel like taking her on a debate, so he gets hold of the roll of tape and gets to work, spotting where other people left their flyers so he can put his right by them. 

He scans the gym once or twice with a quick look, trying to see if, by a stroke of luck, Mystery Man could be there. No one that is shirtless has the body he’s looking for, and he sadly doesn’t have x-ray vision to check the rest. No amount of wishing as a kid made him grow that ability.

He puts up the first flyer, this time containing all his info, and stares at it proudly. He's got a good feeling about this.

Jimin finds him again as he’s putting up his last flyer, sounding excited about something.

“I had no idea Namjoon worked out. He’s got nice arms hidden beneath those sweatshirts.”

“Namjoon? Yoongi’s friend?”

“Yeah! And he changed his hair color, it looks really good on him. A little lighter than he used to have.”

Taehyung nods along, not really pressed to know more. He’s got other fish to fry.

+

Namjoon slowly counts to 30 after seeing Taehyung leave the premises, before he basically sprints to the nearest wall, spotting the flyers Taehyung has put up.

There’s a sketch on it, a sketch of a body. A body that looks strangely like his. He frowns, before reading the caption.

“Sculpting student looking for body model. Body must look like this. Call XXX-XXX-XXXX. Food as compensation. ”

Namjoon cannot believe his eyes. Taehyung knows he’s got that exact body type, yet he didn’t ask for his help. If he needed any other confirmation that Taehyung hates him, there’s one right there.

Just what did he do to the man to make him hate him so much? 

Since he’s confronted him in the hallway, Taehyung still hasn’t reached out to him. It would be easy to do. He knows Taehyung has his number, they exchanged it when they first met, so nothing is stopping him. Unless he’s happy with the way things are.

+

Maybe Jimin is not as much of a genius as he thought. By the sixth person that walks in to be a body model, he realizes this is getting expensive in food bribes and studio fees. He has also stopped putting up the pretense of wanting to sketch anyone anymore. 

But this time, It’s one Jung Hoseok who walks in.

“Have we slept together before?” He asks right off the bat, tired of wasting his precious time. It’s his new modus operandi; invite them in, ask the burning question, then send them on their way with the promised food to avoid complaints. 

“I don’t believe so, but maybe we should fix that,” Hoseok answers, taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Your flyers have a nude body on it, you made me come to a private studio, isn’t this a nude modeling thing?” Hoseok questions, but doesn’t stop undressing. He’s already reaching for his belt. 

Something tells Taehyung this man would be really sad to be told to put his clothes back on. The way he’s unapologetically getting naked tells Taehyung everything he needs to know. 

“So, why are you asking?” He inquires while posing, everything hanging loose and stuff. “Is that how you get laid? Asking hot dudes to model, then seducing them once they’re naked and vulnerable?”

Jung Hoseok doesn’t seem to be feeling very vulnerable right now, but Taehyung keeps that to himself.

“God no. Jesus that would be sleazy of me.”

“Not as sleazy as asking me if we’ve slept together 5 seconds into our first meeting.” Hoseok points out.

“ Touché. ” He admits, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Hoseok doesn’t press him for an answer, and they spend the next few minutes in silence, the only sound coming from Taehyung's pencil on the thick page of his sketchbook.

Jung Hoseok, standing confidently in front of him in all of his naked glory, has a certain aura around him. The way he holds himself, no hesitation to bare it all, head held high; it's like he never had to hide anything in his life. Like he never knew shame. To the point where it inspires Taehyung to utter the next words:

“I have face blindness.” He starts off, which gets his model’s attention. He keeps his eyes down on his paper to avoid eye contact, feeling rusty when it comes to revealing this part of himself. He continues quickly, “I had a one-night stand with this– perfect greek god. He had the perfect penis, too. Best sex of my life.” He's making good progress on his sketch, Hoseok’s body graceful and easy to put on paper. “I’m trying to find him, but I don’t know anything about him, and I can’t tell people’s faces apart." He chuckles deprecatingly, "The only clue I have is the way his body looks. So I put up this ad for body models hoping he would show up.”

Hoseok breaks his pose to slap his hands together, then pointing at him. “Oh my god, are you the one that plastered the whole school with the penis sculpture a few days ago? Was that your version of a ‘Wanted’ poster?”

Taehyung feels his cheeks warm up.

“Yeah, but I almost lost my diploma over that so let’s not mention it.”

Hoseok laughs with his whole body, clapping his hands together a few more times as if to express his excitement.

“That was the best thing to ever happen on this campus since 1993, thank you for that.”

His statement piques Taehyung's interest.

“What happened in 1993?” He asks, expecting anything but what comes outs of Hoseok's mouth next.

“My mom and dad conceived me in the bathroom of the literature wing.”

Taehyung chortles, surprising even himself with how loud it is.

“Now that’s a conception story worth telling your kids.”

“They didn't tell me; They got caught and got expelled the next day. They framed their expulsion letter, it’s still on display in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s voice is dripping with fondness, betraying his love for his family. “The thing is, I learned how to read at a very early age.”

Taehyung is possessed by another wave of uncontrollable laughter. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes, taking a second to compose himself.

“There, you’re looking a little better now. “

Taehyung looks up at the man, standing there in his birthday suit, going out of his way to cheer him up even though they’re perfect strangers.

(Maybe not so perfect since he’s seen him naked, but still.)

He chuckles again, going back to his sketching.

“Wait does this mean you don’t actually need models right now?”

“Well yeah," Taehyung answers, shrugging his shoulders, "But you looked like you would be really disappointed if I told you to stop undressing, so I just went along with it.”

Hoseok nods his agreement, going back into his original position.

“Good call. Now that we’re here you better get the shading of my calves right. They’re my pride and glory.”

“On it.”

+

Who would have thought that this whole ordeal would have somehow turned into Taehyung making a new friend.

He looks at the contact number in his phone staring back at him. It’s written 'Jung Hoseok' with a little sun emoji. He’s told him everything he needs to know to avoid misunderstandings, and Hoseok left with the promise to always greet him first when they see each other in the hallway. It’s sad that he only met the man in his last stretch before getting his degree, but as they say: better late than never.

He’s excited to get to know Hoseok, but he doesn’t know if he should text him first. He’s feeling a little socially rusty, having not approached anyone with the intention of being friends in a long, long time. Which is why he jumps with glee when he sees he’s got a text notification from his new friend. But then he reads the text, and the glee morphes into unadulterated excitement.

 Jung Hoseok 🌞:

4:56 pm    I think i know who your penis belongs to

4:56 pm    can you send me a picture? I lost the flyers i kept from that time

                                       4:59 pm    You sent a picture

 5:01 pm   Yeah it’s really similar 

5:01 pm    Kim Seokjin, XXX-XXX-XXXX, probably currently working the counter at the campus coffee shop. 

5:02 pm     He’s tall, broad shoulders, awesome dick

Taehyung doesn’t even take the time to text back his thanks; he wraps up his project in a disorderly manner, wiping his hands on his shirt with no care in the world. He throws his backpack on and basically sprint to the coffee shop he usually tends to avoid. The owner is totally an evil capitalist, ripping off students with his overpriced coffee.

He gets there in record time, gasping for air as his poor lungs try to keep up with enough exercise to last him a lifetime.

He’s covered in clay stains, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, clothes in dismay, lungs wheezing, so he should probably expect the next few events that unfold. 

He walks into the coffee shop still out of breath, asks if Kim Seokjin is there to the first employee he sees. This is one of those times where he’s happy he can’t read people’s expressions, because he has a feeling he’s being judged very much right now.

“He… just got off his shift.” The man at the counter answers hesitantly.

“Can you tell me where he went?” And what he was wearing?” Taehyung may be sounding a little desperate, but he doesn’t have the time to care.

“He was still in his uniform, so green, and he went that way.” He indicates with a vague wave of the hand.  

Taehyung starts running again, this time looking even more crazed as he scans his surroundings like a mad man, looking for someone tall with broad shoulders wearing green.

He spots him after running for a few minutes, thanking the heavens that the employee sent him in the right direction. He had every reason not to.

“Kim Seokjin!” He calls out, picking up his pace despite his lungs begging for a break. “Wait!”

He sees the man stop, take one look at him over his admittedly very large shoulders, then start sprinting away from him.

“No! Wait up!” He pushes himself harder than he ever has, his legs and lungs burning under the continuous strain, head feeling a little faint. “Please!” He calls out again in desperation. “Please look at my penis!”

This catches Seokjin’s attention, and he thankfully stops running, turning around as if to wait for him. Taehyung slows down to a jog, then to a complete stop, bending over gasping for air. Once his breathing is finally somewhat back to normal, he straightens up, only to come face to face with a bottle of pepper spray.

“W-wait!” He stutters, falling on his ass. “I swear I’m not a creep!”

“That’s exactly what a creep would say.” Seokjin answers, hovering over him threateningly, aiming the pepper spray directly at Taehyung’s face.

“I swear I just need you to look at my penis.”

This was the wrong thing to say apparently, because Seokjin gives the bottle a good shake as if to activate it. “That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you seem to think.”

“No! Wait!” He pleads again. “Not my penis.” He takes off his backpack, frantically digging through it until he finally pulls out his sculpture.  “ This penis.”

Seokjin doesn’t look totally convinced, but he finally lowers his weapon. “That’s a beautiful cock.” He admits after a moment of staring in silence. 

“Thank you. Is it yours?” 

"I don't remember owning that sculpture."

"Not the sculpture; the Penis."

Seokjin frowns, extending his hand, and Taehyung gingerly deposits his precious sculpture into his palm. The man finally puts away his pepper spray to free both his hands. He examines the penis under every angle, trying out the hold, measuring the testicles with his palm, staring at it long and hard.

Taehyung takes the opportunity to stand back up, keeping his distance this time.

“It does look very similar,” he concludes, hands going to his chin. “But this is not my penis. I don’t have a mole there.”

Taehyung deflates. He still asks, just in case. “So we haven’t slept together?”

Seokjin gives him back his sculpture with a snort. “You don’t look like anything I've ever slept with.” 

Taehyung realizes the state he’s in. He must look ridiculous right now.

“I’m from the sculpting department. I didn’t have the time to clean up. I don’t usually go around looking like I just rolled in the mud.”

“Explains a lot.” Seokjin nods, looking him up and down.

He dusts himself off as best as he can, but he can’t do much more cleaning up than that. He’ll probably have to go back home looking like that.

“So what’s your name?”

Taehyung feels dumb, he didn’t even have the decency to introduce himself before pulling out his penis. His social skills are frankly lacking.

“I’m Kim Taehyung. Sorry about all that, someone told me you could have the original version of this sculpture.”

“I’m flattered. It is pretty similar. Can I ask why you’re going around asking people to look at your– At this penis?” 

Taehyung sighs deeply, looking down at the penis in his hand. He did it once, he can do it again.

“Long story short I had an amazing one-night stand with the owner of this beautiful creature, but I have no idea who he is and the only clue I have is my perfect memory of his penis.”

“Sounds like a proper modern-day Cinderella story. But how come you don’t remember his face?” Seokjin questions, a hint of worry in his voice that would make sense in any other situation than Taehyung’s.

“I…. have face blindness, it’s this whole-”

“Ah, Yes, Prosopagnosia, I heard about that in class.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, so this is my only way of finding him.”

“So the Penis Flyers-”

“Yeah, that was also me. Forgot to write down my info, got caught by my teacher, that was a whole mess.” Taehyung admits, feeling discouraged.

“So now you’re basically going around town asking every man to try on the metaphorical glass shoes.”

“Basically.”

“Maybe don’t start off with ‘please look at my penis’ next time?” Seokjin recommends, which makes sense.

“I’ve been told that asking if we’ve slept together first thing is making me sound sleazy.”

“Yeah well, asking people to look at your penis isn’t better.”

“I’ll take good note of that.”

+

He drags his feet all the way back home.

He sees, pushed in the corner of his room, the material he got to make a mold, and wonders if now is the time to give up.

His exhibition is coming up, this whole thing made him late on his projects, and now he’s certain he’ll never reunite with Mystery Man. Maybe Mystery Man just doesn’t want to be found. Maybe he’s seen all his attempts and has simply steered clear, avoiding him all along. Maybe it’s time for Taehyung to make himself a silicon version and move on. He’s exhausted all his options, he’s out of time, and out of ideas.

He’s reading through the molding instruction, glad that this should be easy since he’s using a sculpture and not an actual living and breathing dick, when he realizes he hasn’t exhausted all his options. There’s still hope.

He jumps in the shower, picks out an outfit befitting of his destination, and goes off with hope in his heart.

+

The Bar isn't too busy, this being the middle of a school week, but there’s still some people going about, sharing drinks and being loud, in total denial of the oncoming train that is the end of a semester

Taehyung spots the barman, beeline for him. 

“Hey, do you know who usually works on Sundays?”

“That would be me.” Mr.Barman says, convincing Taehyung he finally has luck on his side.

Mr.Barman is on the tall side, with nice tattooed arms and wavy over-bleached hair tucked behind his ears. He’s making his forearm bulge seductively by polishing some beer glasses, and if Taehyung wasn’t on a mission to find his possible Mr.Perfect, he would be actively trying to get into his pants. 

“Do you, by any chance, recognize me?”

Mr.Barman doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re a regular. And you gave me a blowjob once. Why are you asking?”

Well, Taehyung might have many flaws but at least he’s consistent.

“I was wondering if you remembered seeing me a few weeks ago– I was with a dude, about this height, with this body,” he adds, pulling out the sketch. He looks a little crazed, once again. But it’s ok, he’s reaching for straws here. “He had dark hair, but that’s all I can tell you. See, I have face-”

“-Blindness, I know, you cry about it every time you get drunk.”

Hm. And Taehyung thought he was a character full of mystery.

“I do know who you’re talking about. He’s a regular too.”

The irritation Taehyung feels is only momentary, everything melting away with this new bit of information. Someone saw them, someone knows what his Mystery Man looks like. He didn't hallucinate the whole thing. 

“Do you know his name??” He asks, pleading with his eyes. His heart is thumping wildly in his chest, desperation tangible.

“No. And he hasn’t been here since that night.” He says, crushing every hope and dream Taehyung mustered up in the last five seconds. He pauses his polishing, head tilting to the side. “But I do remember his face. I can try and draw him if you want.”

10 minutes later, Taehyung is looking at his disability in the face.

“Wow, you did it. You perfectly illustrated how people with face blindness see others.” Taehyung says, looking down at the drawing Jungkook (he asked for his name) quickly scribbled on a piece of napkin. It looks exactly like how he sees others.

Jungkook being good-natured, only laugh it off. “I can’t do much here, I’m working. But if you give me your number, I can try and do a better sketch once I get home. I’m from the painting department.”

“You would do that for me?” Taehyung asks, feeling deeply moved by Jungkook’s kindness. 

“Sure, it’s good practice for my portrait class anyways. You can take this as a thank you for the blow job.”

Taehyung nods to himself. 

“I do give amazing blowjobs.”

+

Jungkook, like any good art student, does not appreciate being rushed.

After a whole week of being told “it’s not ready yet”, Taehyung stops asking. 

He also wakes up one morning and realizes he only has a few days left before his exhibition.

Not only is he not done with all his pieces, he still hasn’t started studying for his finales which happen to be the week before his exhibition, meaning, the next day.

He pushes aside any thought of Mystery Man (except when he hugs the sculpture at night, heart yearning for the original), and jumps straight into his cramming strategy, which consists of hitting himself with the books until he’s absorbed the material. If he’s not studying, taking a finale, or sleeping, he’s huddled in the workshop with the other students of his department, functioning on coffee and eating various shades of sculpting material for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is not what Taehyung expected when he was told that artists live from their arts.

The day before his exhibition, he’s barely feeling human, he’s got dried clay in places clay should never find itself, he doesn’t know words anymore and he has basically forgotten his own name.

No matter how fast he works, he realizes he won’t be able to finish his last pieces in time. He’s wracking his brain for a solution, thinking long and hard about just what he could do, when it hits him. 

The solution is right underneath his nose; 

His penis. It was always his penis. 

He’s supposed to expose pieces that he finds impactful, and if there’s anything that had a big impact on his life in the last few weeks, it’s his sculpture.

He can’t tell his teacher, he’ll categorically refuse. Not after the stunt he pulled with the flyers. Plus he wouldn't understand the cultural reset it was for Taehyung, finding and crafting that beautiful creature.

So he sets to work in secret. It shouldn’t be too hard, he hasn’t printed his labels yet. Plus the students are in charge of installing their own corner, meaning he can wait until the very last moment before the opening to put his penis on display.

He needs to find a name for his sculpture, so he texts his friends for help, but as usual, they are unhelpful.

 Asshole with pink hair:

6:45 pm  ‘ Suck on that’

 Hyungie:

6:45 pm    why are you asking me idk

 Jung Hoseok 🌞 :

6:50 pm   “ Long lost lover”

 He’s glad to see that his new friend will fit right in once he introduces him to everyone. 

He isn’t satisfied with the answer he gets, so he sends more text.

 Kim Seokjin:

7:05 pm  “Is this your penis?”

7:06 pm   Or better yet, “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PENIS?”

7:06 pm   that way people will understand how current your art is

7:10 pm   Also I didn’t give you this number to chitchat

7:10 pm   after we find out his identity im cutting all ties with you

7:11 pm   Im just feeling invested right now

7:11 pm   that’s all

7:17 pm   Where’s your exhibition again?

Jeon Jungkook barman and artist:

9:56 pm  idk

9:56 pm  im almost done with the portrait btw

9:56 pm  you mind if I use it for my exhibition

9:56 pm  im really proud of it

 So not much more help on that side either.

+

The next day, Taehyung is busy setting up his corner and feeling emotional over his last exhibition.

He’s done with uni. He can go off into the world and live from his art. Or more like, he’ll first find a side job that’ll suck the life out of him, to pay for his art. Then he’ll spend a few years regretting every decision that led him to be an artist, but just as he’s about to give up, his sculptures will be noticed by a mysterious millionaire that’ll commission him thousands of dollars at first. He’ll refer him to his rich friend who will be all over his art and will throw their money at him.

Yeah, it’s a nice pipe dream.

He makes sure all the labels are in place, the lights are hitting his pieces in all the right way, and that no one notices him putting his penis in the middle of his space 30 seconds before they open the doors.

By the time his teacher notices, it’s already too late; the place flooded with friends, family, and even the occasional art critics that the university invited.

It’s not like his penis feels out of place in his setup. Most of his pieces are on the theme of the human body; studies of movement, skin texture, whatnot. If you look at it as a whole, you almost have a whole body. The only thing missing is a face, which is extremely fitting for Taehyung.

The wave of people coming is not preferable for Taehyung, since he doesn’t like crowded places. He’s never been a fan of their exhibition opening nights over the years. He keeps himself busy by trying his best to merge with the wall while people circle his pieces. His friends know he won’t be able to recognize them in the crowd, so they’ll come to him by themselves, he simply has to make himself visible.

“Hey babe,” Jimin says with mirth in his voice, “Is that greek?”

“Yeah” Taehyung answers, fixing his eyes on his most beloved and central piece. 

“I didn’t know you knew greek”

“I don’t, but Google does.”

The Penis is standing directly underneath his own spotlight, looking like a beacon of light, grabbing the envious stares of the people around it.

There’s a little white label by its base:

   Kim Taehyung

πέος, 2021

Red Clay  

(if you recognize this penis, please ask for the artist)

  “ What does it mean?”

“ Penis ”

Jimin hums, crossing his arm over his chest. “I guess I was not expecting anything less.”

Yoongi chooses that moment to appear, whistling his praise.

“So you did work this semester.” He jokes, bobbing his head with approval.

“Har, har.” Like he’s one to talk. He basically spent the last few months becoming one with his bed.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he expects it to be Hoseok or Seokjin telling him they’re here, but instead it’s from Jungkook, and it’s a picture.

A little gasp of surprise escapes him.

His hands shake as he opens up the text app, his heart thumping as the picture loads. He presses on it once it’s ready, taking up the full screen, and Taehyung can finally-... well, Taehyung can’t do anything with that. His case of face blindness is pretty severe, so even drawings are unrecognizable for him. But it’s something! A new clue! He can make a flyer out of this! He can-

“Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?”

Time stops.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in his head, mocking him, but also stealing the carpet right from underneath his feet.

Why do you have a portrait of Namjoon on your phone?

A portrait of Namjoon

Namjoon

Namjoon, who stood in front of him silently, that day Yoongi invited him out, probably expecting some kind of reaction from Taehyung.

Namjoon who frequents the campus gym.

Namjoon, who’s tall and broad-shouldered.

Namjoon, who’s been around Taehyung for a while but was never told about his condition. 

Namjoon, who probably thinks Taheyung has been ignoring him all this time.

“Jesus fucking christ, My Mystery Man Is Kim Namjoon.”

Both his friends voice their confusion as Taehyung tries to rip his hair from his head.

“This penis belongs to Kim Namjoon, who doesn’t know I have face blindness, and who probably think I’ve been ignoring him all this fucking time.”

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says at the same time as Park Jimin, that prick, starts cackling uncontrollably. Taehyung always knew he was evil.

“This is- I’m so sorry but- This shouldn't be funny– But I can’t, it’s too funny.” He wheezes out in between laughter. “He was right there, probably confused as hell as to why you were showing his dick to everyone- I’m sorry this is so funny but also so, so sad. You never- oh my god.”

Under the attention of about half the gallery, he wipes the tears from his eyes, body convulsing with laughter.

“What the fuck are you waiting for.” He finally manages to say, taking a deep breath. “Hyung, didn’t you drag him here tonight?”

That seems to snap Yoongi out of his stupor.

“Fuck, yes he’s here, he’s... There!-” He says pointing somewhere, but then his voice dies down. “And now he’s leaving...”

Taehyung spots the man with a black cap currently walking out the exit with an angry stride. He reacts on instinct, running after his Not So Mysterious Man Anymore.

+

Kim Namjoon is having a very no good, very bad day. 

Not because of school, no. He aced all his finales, he doesn’t even need to get his grades back to know.

Not because of the weather either. No, it’s a beautiful spring day, and there’s a hint of cherry blossom in the air, wrapping the world in a romantic tint.

No, the reason he’s having a very no good very bad day, is because he can’t, for the love of God, get Kim Taehyung out of his head. 

It started with a very interesting dream, clearly drawing inspiration from the night they spent together. It woke him up at the crack of dawn, sweating up bullets and hard as a rock. Finding sleep afterward was nearly impossible, meaning his first precious day of vacation started way too fucking early.

Now music theory never sleeps, so he simply spent his morning trying to forget his dream, channeling all his energy on composing. 

But then Min Yoongi, long-time friend and co-compositor, had to go and ruin his fragile peace of mind by reminding him he had two tickets for the sculpting department exhibition, and Namjoon was obligated to show up. Meaning he would inevitably run into Kim Taehyung; Meaning he would agonize about him all day; Meaning , that he would be thinking about Kim Fucking Taehyung all day.

But it’s ok, because he was finally starting to come to terms with that too. Taehyung would probably ignore him again, and all he needed to do was circle the gallery once and get the fuck out.

But no.

Oh no.

Life had better plans.

Because right into the center of Taehyung's exhibition space, is his very own penis, standing proudly, mocking him.

He can recognize it from the flyers, so he knows instantly that it’s Taehyung’s work. 

He’s stunned by the audacity, wondering once again what he did to draw Taehyung’s ire upon himself. The flyers were not enough, no he had to go and put it on display as his final fuck you to Namjoon. Even wrote 'penis' in greek as a title, confirming Namjoon's theory that this is all a ploy to make fun of him.

Namjoon has had enough, he’s getting the fuck out of there. 

He spins on his heel at the speed of light, taking advantage of every inch of his long legs to walk out as fast as possible. He ignores the call of his name that follows after him, readjusting the cap on his head.

He’s fuming, feeling tears of frustration building up. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s been nothing but respectful of Taehyung. He’s been staying away from him too. 

He doesn’t deserve this.

He makes it a few blocks before his phone starts going off every 5 seconds with incoming texts, forcing him to finally look at it.

 Yoongi Hyung:

6:14 pm   Before anything, know that Taehyung suffers from severe face blindness.

6:14 pm   I know you know what that means you wikipedia rat

6:15 pm   I didn’t tell you cause it’s none of my business who he chooses to tell

6:15 pm   But the dumbass has been trying to find you for weeks using your dick because he had no other way to identify you

6:15 pm   Your pinning hasn't been exactly subtle either

6:16 pm    he ran after you when you left but I bet he’s pleading with the wrong person in the street right now

6:17 pm   Nice dick by the way

 He rereads the series of text to try and make sense of them. Only after the third read, does he finally understand.

Well, shit.

+

“Please Namjoon listen to me, you have to listen to me, I didn't mean to ignore you, I just didn't know it was you!-” Taehyung pleads, holding on to his sleeve.

“Can you please let go of me?!”

His voice sounds a little older than what Taehyung remembers, but he doesn’t have the time to think too much about that. Maybe he’s got a cold or something.

“-I can explain everything if you can just give me two minutes-”

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not this kind of person.”

Taehyung isn’t deterred, holding on to him desperately “-Please I swear just two- no, one minute, even one minute is enough-”

Someone clears their throat, tapping him softly on the shoulder. 

“Sorry sir, I believe my friend here is mistaking you for me.”

Now that’s a familiar voice. A voice he recognizes from many occasions. 

Taehyung lets go of his poor unsuspecting victim, taking a step back which is all it takes for them to run away from him.

He finally comes face to face with the source of all his past weeks' torment.

The height is there, the shoulders are there, the body proportions are there, the hair color is completely different, but Jimin did mention he changed it recently. He’s got the black cap on, the one that made Taehyung mistake a perfect stranger on the street for him.

It’s him. He found him. It’s his Mystery Man, his cinderella. He’s got him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He confirms, voice gentle.

“Kim Namjoon.” He repeats, trying the name out on his tongue. His body is filling up with butterflies, and he can’t feel his toes.

“And here I thought you just could never remember my name.”

“I can explain–” He rushes, eager to get rid of the misunderstanding.

“It’s ok, Yoongi told me.”

“And about your penis–”

“Yes, Yoongi told me about that too.” Namjoon cuts him off, the tip of his ears getting pink.

“I’m so sorry– I should have asked your name then. I mean– you made me come four times .”

Namjoon chuckles, catching one of Taehyung’s hands mid flail and holding it with both of his, making his heart jump.

“We’ve basically known each other for years, so maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. I don’t think I would have appreciated it then.”

“I guess that’s true. I’m still sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, I could have come up to you first. I mean, I’m the one who sneaked out in the morning. I had an 8 am class, by the way. I didn’t leave because I wanted to. But you have my number so… I assumed you would call me. ”

“I have your number...?” It's pretty vague, but it does ring a bell. He's got a blurry memory of time, around their first meeting, when Namjoon and he had exchanged their numbers for Yoongi related reasons. “That’s right, I do have your number. Fuck.”

“Well, I know now this wouldn’t have changed anything for you, since you simply didn't know it was me you were with.” Namjoon snorts, but not unkindly. More at the situation. 

But Taehyung still feels terrible.

“I’m so sorry.” He whines, feeling like burying his face in Namjoon’s chest. But they’re not there yet. “I tend to keep people at a distance to avoid misunderstandings.”

“It’s ok, I get it now. I guess I wish I knew before, but I get it now.”

“Good. I should have told you sooner. I was actually planning on doing it soon if that’s any consolation.”

“It is.” Namjoon murmurs, inching closer to him.

“Cool, cool cool.” Taehyung blurts out nervously.

This is it. This is his chance. Everything that has transpired in the last few weeks is leading up to this moment. 

"So," Namjoon starts when Taehyung has been silent for too long. "Yoongi said you were looking for me... Any particular reasons?"

"Well, yes." He answers but stops. All of this means nothing. It doesn't mean that Namjoon will accept to go out with him. He has no idea how Namjoon feels about him, and he sure as hell cannot tell by his facial expression. He's going in blind, no reason to believe that Namjoon wants to have to do anything with him. For all he knows, Namjoon is only here to settle the misunderstanding, and then be on his way. Maybe he's even mad about the penis flyers.

But then he also remembers that Namjoon is holding his hand right now. It's now or never.

He takes a deep breath for bravery and goes for it.

“Kim Namjoon, can I please take you out on a date?”

Namjoon doesn’t let him second guess himself, word leaving his mouth as fast as a blink.

“Absolutely.”

Apparently, they’ve gathered a crowd because there’s cheerful hooting and shouting erupting around them. But Taehyung pays them no mind as he goes in for a hug, Namjoon meeting him halfway.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon says, suddenly, taking a step back. “I still don’t know why you put my penis on display at the center of your exhibition.”

Taehyung chuckles, bringing Namjoon back in. 

“Simple, ‘cause it’s a masterpiece.”

+

 2 months later

There’s a knock at the door, which throws Taehyung off. He’s getting ready for his date with Namjoon– their actual first date– and is not expecting anyone. Jimin knows the code, so it can’t be him, unless–

“Hello sir, would you be open to receiving the words of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ?”

“Jimin, I swear to god, I can tell it’s you by your voice. And no one from church would dress like you do, slut.”

Moving in with Jimin is as much a blessing as it is a curse. A blessing because, well, they’re best friends. A curse because his best friend’s favorite hobby is to try and prank him. Taehyung almost misses the time where Jimin was treating his face blindness as a taboo. 

Almost.

The last two months have been a whirlwind of life-changing events for Taehyung. 

First, moving in with Jimin is a pretty big deal. Not only has Taehung been living alone for the last three years, living with someone is sometimes a challenge for him. Wondering why a stranger is standing in your kitchen at 3 am, brain slowed down by sleep and the weak lighting not helping, isn’t always a recipe for success. But he’s slowly getting used to it, and Jimin, as much as he can be a prick, is being patient with him.

The second big event is, well, his current job. Somehow his workshop teacher, even after everything, recommended him for a job at a sculpture academy. He now teaches different types of sculpting medium to children, four nights a week. Pretty sweet gig.

At first, he was going crazy out of his mind worrying about working with children, but four weeks in and he’s feeling confident. He sat down with the kids the first week to explain to them what face blindness is, and although the children were initially confused, they now enjoy switching names with each other for the duration of his classes, to mess with his head.

Jokes on them, Taehyung also called their parents during that first week. So far, none of the children have noticed that their parents have been making them wear certain accessories every time they leave for the academy. Checkmates.

And the last big event, of course, is Namjoon. 

In between moving, his new job, and Namjoon’s own busy schedule, they have yet to go on an actual full-blown date. But they’ve slowly been getting to know each other. They make time to go on quick coffee dates sometimes, and they text none-stop. Namjoon hasn’t seen his new place yet, but they’ve hung out at Namjoon’s plenty of time. 

His boyfriend (he gets giddy thinking about that word) also showed up at the academy a few times to walk him back home (The first time he kept it as a surprise, but he quickly realized Taehyung didn’t like surprises; especially when it means having a tall stranger approach him in the dark without saying anything. Now he texts beforehand.)

“Do you like this outfit? Or should I go with my floral button-up?” He asks Jimin, who’s lounging on his bed after his failed prank attempt. 

“Why are you so stressed? It’s not like it's the first time you two see each other.”

“Because the chances of me getting laid tonight are extremely high and I want to look good.”

“Oh?” Jimin perks up, knowing full well Taehyung and Namjoon have been taking their time to get to know each other. “Should I sleepover at Hobi’s tonight?”

Another new development from the last two months: Jimin and Hoseok’s instant attraction. They’ve been dancing around each other since the exhibition, but it looks like it’s finally getting ‘ sleeping-over-at-each-others-place ’ serious.

“...Good idea,” Taehyung answers, not because he wants the house to himself (though it’s a nice perk), but he likes giving a little push to love sometimes.

His friend circle can finally be called a circle now. Somehow, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon just naturally fit into his now actually social, social life. Namjoon was the easiest since he already knew Yoongi and Jimin. Hoseok got it easy by becoming Jimin’s more-than-friend, and Seokjin just showed up one day with a video of that time, outside the gallery, when Taehyung thought an older gentleman was Namjoon because of his black cap. 

He looks at the time, curses when he realizes he’s going to be late. He grabs his wallet and puts on his shoes in a rush, and makes it out the door accompanied by Jimin shouting “Don’t you dare fuck on the couch or you’re buying a new one!”

He makes it to the Bar with only a few minutes to spare, and as luck would have it, Jungkook is working. He’s come to recognize his tattooed arm and bleached locks instantly. 

Namjoon would have texted him if he was there, which means he’s cutting it close as well, so he sends a quick ‘here 💖’ text before sitting down at the Bar with a big smile.

“You make me want to puke,” Jungkook says, disgust dripping from his words. 

“Hey now don’t be jealous, I’m sure you’ll find yourself a monster cock as well one day.”

Somehow, he and Jungkook started texting on a semi-regular basis. It’s mostly Jungkook begging Taehyung to introduce him to Seokjin (apparently he’s been crushing on the man since he first saw him at the coffee shop), which Taehyung has to find excuses every time to avoid telling Jungkook the cold, harsh truth.

(“I don’t date men with bleached hair, it ruins my whole aesthetic.” Jin said after the first time Taehyung asked. Which aesthetic he’s talking about, Taehyung has no idea.)

But that also means that Jungkook has heard all about his very fascinating and blooming love story with Namjoon.

“Did you tell Seokjin I said hi?”

“Dude, just go and ask him out. You know where he works, you know where he studies, you even know his birthday, which is really creepy when you two have never talked by the way. Just, go ask him out, he won’t be able to resist you once he actually sees how attractive you are.” He pauses for a second, then adds for safety measure, “But if he reaches in his pocket, just run the other way.”

“What?” 

“Don’t ask, just trust me.” Taehyung has some unpleasant flashbacks of a bottle of pepper spray being waved in front of his face. He shakes his head to try and get rid of the memory.

“And how would you even know that I’m attractive, you don’t actually know what I look like.” Jungkook retorts.

“Shut up, just go and ask him.”

“Just go and ask him what?” A familiar voice asks from behind him, and Taehyung's smile is back full force. He rotates on his chair and jumps into Namjoon’s arms, hearing him groan under the strain of his weight. He can hear Jungkook fake gagging behind him, the actual child.

They share a quick kiss before they both sit down at the bar.

“You’re not seriously thinking about having your date here, are you?”

Taehyung snorts, tempted to mess with Jungkook, but Namjoon is the one to answer.

“No we just wanted to get the evening started with a nice drink, but we have a reservation to an actual fancy restaurant, paid graciously by Taehyung's actual serious adult job.”

“Is it a serious adult job if he had to stop a kid from eating his donut-shaped clay yesterday?”

“Shut up. If you keep being like that I’m going to order the most annoying thing on the menu.”

Jungkook scoffs and walks away, without actually taking their orders.

They both watch him do a big show of ignoring them, answering other customers without turning in their direction.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Namjoon whispers in his ear. “We can go waste time walking around aimlessly, hand in hand.”

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Taehyung mutters, but he actually loves it.

His dating experience before Namjoon amounts to an enormous zero, but it’s not because he’s one of those unattainable, i-don’t-believe-in-love types of people that live rent-free in Hollywood movies. He simply never thought it would be possible to get close to someone romantically with his condition. But since officially meeting Namjoon, he’s been researching, and turns out, he totally can. 

There are even people, artists like him, who've noticed that repeatedly drawing or painting their loved one has made them actually able to remember their face (not 100% of the time, but he’ll take what he can get.). So he’s been sketching, using pictures, trying out different angles. He’s planning on using clay at one point. He’s totally the girl from Lionel Richie’s music video. Which makes Namjoon Lionel Richie.

“Did you know that I was inspired by Lionel Richie’s music video to sculpt your penis?”

Namjoon chuckles under his breath, squeezing Taehyung’s hand just a little bit more. The hot summer air is making their palms sweaty, but they both don’t care. 

“Where is that thing, by the way? It’s been a while since I’ve last seen it.”

“I put it on my bedside table when I moved in and I haven't moved it since. I’m thinking about making it into a lamp. I have to keep it out of reach of Jimin and Hoseok, they both seem a little too interested.”

Namjoon grimaces. Or Taehyung is assuming that’s his grimacing face. 

“Please never let it fall into their hands.”

“I swear on my honor, I shall protect your penis.”

“Thank you, I feel better now. I still can’t believe they put it on the first page of ‘Sculpting Now’. Crazy how all of your friends and the sculpting world know what my dick looks like.

“It’s a masterpiece. If it was mine I would never keep it in my pants, I’d always want to show it off.”

“How are you not in prison right now?”

“I don’t have your dick in my pants, sadly. Did you know that Seokjin almost pepper-sprayed me the first time we met? In retrospect, having a stranger run after you, pleading for you to look at their dick is a good excuse to pull out your pepper spray.”

“Wait, you did what?”

“It was all in the name of love.”

Namjoon shakes his head, probably disappointed in him.

+

Namjoon is utterly enamored. Every time Taehyung recalls a story from when he ran around school trying to find him, he falls a little bit more in love. 

He was so nervous for their first romantic date that he couldn’t eat during the day, but Taehyung is making him feel at ease, as he usually does, so hunger is coming back with a vengeance.

“Should we go to the restaurant now?” He asks, pulling Taehyung along with him. "It's almost time."

“Let’s.” Taehyung agrees readily, “I’m ravenous.”

They quickly make their way to the restaurant, only to find its door closed. There’s a sign in the window reading “Closed for vermin infestation”.

“Oh.” Namjoon says, “Dammit. That’s not good.”

There’s this awkward silence, filled with growling sounds from both their bellies. It’s too late to make reservations anywhere nice, and anywhere else risks being too loud for a romantic Rendez-Vous. Namjoon is scrambling his brain for a solution when Taehyung’s shy voice interrupts.

“Hum, if you want to– Jimin told me he wouldn't be home tonight, so… You want to come over? We can pick up some ramen on the way.”

Taehyung’s face might be neutral, but the blush growing on his cheeks is anything but. Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight that he makes, burning up in embarrassment. Without the blushing, Namjoon would have believed he’s only inviting him for ramen, but the angry red of his cheeks is definitely betraying Taehyung’s intentions.

He nods his agreement, feeling anticipation replace hunger in the pit of his stomach.

+

 Having Namjoon in his space is a new experience. 

The apartment is still messy from their move, boxes lying around, but they’ve managed to make it quite homey. Everything that is necessary to their everyday life has been unboxed, only the odd objects being ignored by Jimin and him.

He puts on some soft music to set a nice mood, and Namjoon is humming along straight away, which is all the approval he needs to feel confident about his music selection. Music Theory graduate approved. 

 He gets to work on the ramen while he directs Namjoon on where to find a cheap bottle of wine and some wine glasses. He sets the table, trying to make it as nice as possible, but it’s really just a pot of bubbling ramen and two bowls with some chopsticks. 

They eat in comfortable silence, the music playing in the background mixing with the sound of their eating.

But then Namjoon dumps the content of his wine glass on his tan-colored pants, and it’s downhill from there.

“Damn it!” He curses, jumping to his feet. He grabs some napkins to try and pat some wine off, but it’s already been absorbed by his fancy suit pants. 

“Quick, take them off,” Taehyung says, not thinking too hard and only reacting to the situation at hand. “Let’s rinse them in the sink.” 

Namjoon complies, taking them off in record time, passing them on to Taehyung like it’s a relay race.

Taehyung deposits them straight in the sink, opening the tap and letting the water hopefully get rid of most of the stain. They both stand there for a minute, staring at the water filling up. 

But then it hits Taehyung that Namjoon’s thighs are currently bare and in his vicinity. He sneaks a quick peek to satisfy his horny brain, but he’s quick to snap his eyes back to the sink to avoid doing anything stupid.

Like, let’s say , dropping to his knees. 

He can feel himself blushing, his cheeks, ears, and neck feeling hot. He knew exactly what he was doing, inviting Namjoon for some ramen, but now that he can act on it, he’s suddenly feeling very shy. 

Plus, not being able to read facial expressions never really impaired his ability to get laid. He used to just– go to the bar, wait until someone would offer him to get out of there, and go for it. 

But this is not a bar, and Namjoon won’t ask him if he wants to get out of there. He has no idea how to tell if Namjoon wants to jump into bed with him. Or not. 

He takes matters into his own hands.

“So, as you know,” He starts, staring intently at the water flowing out of the tap, “this whole face blindness thing– I can’t really read your facial expressions. So in the future, it’ll be hard for me to figure out if you’re angry or happy, or sad, or… or horny. I’ve never done this whole– Romantic relationship thing, but I’m guessing we’re going to have to be really vocal with how we’re feeling, what we want, whatnot.”

He lets his statements hang in the air, staring at the stain that doesn’t seem to want to go away. He’s thinking maybe this will have to be removed professionally. 

But then, Namjoon chooses that moment to drop a soft kiss on his nape.

“Are you asking me, right now, if I want you?” 

Taehyung turns around, letting himself be cornered against the counter. Namjoon has his nicely defined biceps, somehow peeking through his suit vest, on each side of him. He absolutely loves it.

“Yes. I am.”

Namjoon kisses his neck once again, and Taehyung is this close to losing it. 

“I absolutely want you.” His boyfriend finally answers, landing a heavy kiss on his lips, sucking all the air out of Taehyung’s lungs.

 After turning Taehyung’s inside to mush via lips on lips crime, he returns to his assault on Taehyung’s neck, peppering the skin he can reach with sweet kisses, each one sending electricity straight to his groin. 

“Do you want me?” Namjoon questions softly into his ear, making Taehyung's eyes roll back so far he’s scared they’ll never come back. 

“Fuck yes.” He grinds out, voice turning to a whine when Namjoon, emboldened by Taehyung’s enthusiasm, rocks his pelvis into his in a languid motion.

He sees white then, bringing Namjoon’s mouth back to his, smashing their mouths together in a wet and messy kiss.

“How important are your pants?” He inquires in between kisses, enjoying the slow grinding Namjoon has going on. He’s still in his suit pants, but Namjoon only has the thin cotton of his boxer brief as a barrier. Taehyung can clearly feel his monster cock waking up from its slumber. 

“Not very important.” He finally answers, hands letting go of the counter to firmly grab at Taehyung’s ass. 

Taehyung can proudly say he’s got a fat ass, and Namjoon seems to appreciate it if the growl that escapes him is anything to go by.

He gets to work on the buttons of Namjoon’s dress shirt, Namjoon getting the message and taking his vest off by himself. Soon he’s standing there in only his boxer briefs and socks, while Taehyung is still fully dressed.

It’s kind of hot. 

They slow it down a little, Taehyung pushing Namjoon away so he can take a good look at him. 

The light of the kitchen falls almost gracefully over Namjoon’s defined chest, creating shadows that chisel out his muscles even more. It’s a sight to behold. 

He drags his hands down Namjoon's body, teasing a nipple as he goes with a flick of the thumb, mapping out his taut stomach with the tip of his finger, then coming back up to hold onto his strong shoulders.

“You know, I’m like, really good at massages. I feel like this is something you should know.”

Seems like this is all the time Namjoon will allow him away from him. He reels him back in with an arm around his waist, the other taking hold of one of Taehyung’s hands and bringing it to his mouth. He nips at his fingers, maintaining eye contact while he uses his tongue to soothe the sting.

How he’s even real is beyond Taehyung.

“Do you need help undressing?” Namjoon teases, reaching for his belt.

“Let me close the tap and we can move this to my room.” 

Namjoon doesn’t give him a response, only cages him once again against the counter, plastering the full length of his warm body to his. He reaches behind Taehyung and moments later, the soft ambiance music is the only thing they can hear again. 

Taehyung leads him to his bedroom, taking off his vest as they go. Somehow Namjoon already got his belt buckle, so he unceremoniously drops his pants to the floor, then jumps on his bed.

“Welcome to my room. That’s my desk, that’s my bedside table, that’s a replica of your penis, but I heard the original is planning on making an appearance tonight. This is my bed. Hope you enjoyed the tour.” He finally gets to the final button, looking up eagerly as he sends his shirt off to the side, wondering what’s taking Namjoon so long to get on the goddamn bed.

He finds his lover completely captivated by his penis duplicate.

“You’ve got the same one in your pants, you know. Get you your ass over here.” 

“Sorry I was just thinking… it’s crazy how similar you made it only from your memory.”

“Excuse me?” Taehyung objects, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re not just similar, they’re identical.” 

“Only one way to check, is there?” Namjoon taunts, before finally, finally getting rid of his briefs, releasing the Kraken. 

Except he also grabs hold of the sculpture, bringing it close so he can do a side-by-side comparison. 

“You’re right, it is identical. How did you even manage that?” He says, awe in his voice. “Have you ever used it on yours–” 

Namjoon loses his train of thought as he takes in the sight of Taehyung, laying in bed completely naked, pumping himself at a leisurely pace and looking very unimpressed. 

“No, I haven’t. But if you don’t get into bed in the next 5 seconds I just might consider it.”

Namjoon doesn’t have to be told twice.

[ask-impure-vessel]

I don't know if this will reach you at the right moment in time Vessel but, peace friend, The Wyrm has already shown he cares for you greatly and you have done him no disservice or wrong. This may simply a matter too important to discuss elsewhere and His Majesty may be too caught up in his own troubles to understand the affect he has on you.

[Note: Frank discussion of anatomy, anxiety/panic attacks, unreality, post-traumatic stress, past abuse, suicide, disordered eating, self-harm, stuff about the Abyss with all that entails and other such unpleasantries. Strap in, folks!]

The vessel felt like their body was somewhere a few steps to the right and back of them. Their father said nothing as he led them down to the workshop.

You don’t understand. You don’t-

There’s a distant panic in Vessel’s voice. They still keep walking, they must. The order was given. Despite what happened in the Abyss, control still belongs to the Pale King.

It was as if nothing had changed at all.

For the first time, they begin to resent that. The workshop is the last place they want to be, for multiple reasons besides the temple that was to become their agonizing grave. This is not a place that holds any good memories for them, not a single one. 

They arrive in that darkened place, the birthplace of moulds, all thousand of them-700 kingsmoulds, 300 wingsmoulds-where Wyrm's research led to the vessels that rested in the infirmary and that walked into the room. The king shrugged off his silken robe, leaving on a shirt that still covered what was considered a decent amount in Hallownest, showing off the truth of his form; it had been a while and Vessel Hallow was shocked by the changes to his father's form.

He was a being of pure white carapace, plates with softer flesh between, especially around the joints; his skin was sunken, his belly not just thin but almost concave instead of convex. He looked a bit muscular, but mostly because he appeared to be starving. He was dull in color, the white often not as bright as it could be, looking almost dirty with a lack of nutrients to look glossy and nice. 

Wyrm could subsist on soul like a vessel, but that didn't mean it was pleasant for him to do so. He was much like other bugs in physicality, fueled by food, water and having to use the toilet to flush out what his body didn't use of those things. His genitals were internal, just like any bug, his shirt covered where that was hidden. 

His secondary set of arms were more visible now, as was the lower half he usually ambled upon: multiple legs and a long tail that terminated in a pointed end. His tail was thin, almost collapsed with the lack of care.

What was more alarming were the splotches of black. His hands were absolutely covered in it, just beyond the wrists but the lines that raced upwards were far more concerning. Void taint was a part of Hallow's body but for a pale being, such a sight promised long, lingering agony. The absolute rigid calm their father practiced suddenly became a lot more impressive.

It left Hallow in minor shock.

Father, are you dying? Have you already assured your death? Was it on purpose that you inflicted starvation and void poisoning upon yourself? I can think of few less painful, lingering deaths.

"Come. Please kneel so that I can more easily examine you and the changes to you." He activated the door seals and waited in a clear space.

<Father, I-> The vessel walked and knelt, words cutting off with anxiety.

Wyrm activated and checked on the seal on Hallow's mask. "Interesting, joining with the Lord of Shades didn't disengage this? I hadn't expected that. It must have been greatly weakened over the course of my rule and being forgotten. I had thought them already dead." He muttered and began to ghost fingers over the notches Hallow had. "Where did the Kingsoul go?"

That had been a question Hallow had been dreading.

A hand touched upon Hallow's chest. "There it is, if changed greatly at your breast. It became your core? Brace."

It was more warning than Hallow usually got; sharp pain radiated through their being, as something touched their heart.

<Father, it. It hurts.> The vessel gasped out. They were not words sufficient, but they were descriptive enough for their use.

"Please bear it a little longer. This is a very beautiful charm that has become your heart even if it is taboo to my being." 

The pain grew to shocking agony, then to a fading sensation, Hallow felt like their body was a distant, cut off thing.

<Father, please. Stop!> The vessel spoke in growing horror, fear and concern.

The Pale King was faced with a decision then-and let go of the charm. Sensation slowly returned and the vessel gasped on the floor, curling in on themself on the floor as mind and body reconnected. It was painful as the disruption the Pale King had inflicted and the vessel would have gagged if they could on the feelings of revulsion they now felt.

They instead wept on the floor, black tears falling onto the ground as they shivered and their mind turned to things they did there, the pale Wyrm unheeding to a child's pain in the terrible silence; the screams that echoed only through the void, the vessel capable only of displaying stiff trembling to their master. 

They recall the efforts to ensure they could learn magic. The painful process of 'installation' over being taught the theory that took place here. The studies that involved dying here and their shade. When the various seals were made on their shell and mask, the burning magic that had kept burning on their mask for days from them. They had done nothing but suffer in this room and this day had proven no different.

"Vessel, I. I'm sorry, that went too far." The king stroked their mask, making a soothing sound, a purr that Hallow hadn't heard before.

Hallow felt the dam burst and sat as they cried, for all the things they'd wanted and had never had. That Wyrm was holding them now, comforting them now, touching with loving intention rather than with cold intent of science or with violence. The feelings were somewhat positive, but many were bitter, some even bordered on hate and disgust that they didn't know what to do with. They had so many things to say, for themself, for the things that had been done to them and the things they'd missed out on. For the way their father had run away the moment their emotions had become known like a damnable coward. That had been a choice Hallow had been denied, they couldn't say no-yet this day, for the first time, they had asked for their father to stop.

And he had listened.

The Pale King let Hallow get out everything they'd needed to, to calm down and recover from… whatever it was that he'd been doing to them. <This one doesn't want to be experimented on again, or studied. This place, it brings back bad memories for it.> Hallow spoke, in a shaking mental voice. <It is painful for this vessel to be here.>

"Oh, Vessel. I had no idea it was that upsetting. Let's go to my study, then so you don't have to be here. You never have to come in here again." The King promised and led the shaking knight from that terrible place.

They settled down in a chair this time, the king likewise going seated. "I will apologize. That was too far, I needed to explain what I was doing and why-to ask for your permission. It's not easy to break old habits. I noticed you dropped first-person pronouns in your stress." He spoke frankly with sadness.

<This one supposes not. It felt like it was… dying.> Hallow shuddered. <Did you pull this vessel away to speak, or was it to satisfy that curiosity?> They asked tiredly.

"A bit of both, admittedly. To ask you how you're feeling, but that's… obvious, right now and is very much my doing." He sighed and leaned forward. "I'll have to be invasive one more time, I'm afraid but perhaps not this day, to let you recover. I need to set you free and I intend to."

<You'll… free this one from its bondage?> Hallow rephrased in mild disbelief. 

"Yes. As my final order in that bondage, for the rest of your life should something happen and I am unable to undo that binding-I order you to act of your own free will and feelings, as you see fit and judge is right. I relinquish control over your will and mind. There will need to be magic done to completely remove the binding, but it will no longer function."

<It will thank you, father once this one is wholly free.> Hallow spoke diplomatically. They couldn't exactly forgive him entirely yet if the harm was still there.

"I understand. You are a higher being now, truly. While you could read the language of the gods and make things function that are for gods, you didn't have a few aspects that would elevate you from a child of higher beings to purely one yourself. However, you do not have worshippers and as much distaste as I have for the god that was, that will need to change for your own health."

<That must be why the Lord of Shades said they were very, very starved. Speaking of, father. Why are you starved?> The vessel spoke pointedly. <This one believes they can ask some pointed questions and get answers in return. You owe it at least that much.>

"I. Eating is a currently disgusting endeavor to me. Certainly, I did like it once and ate but. Since the vessel project started, my. My enjoyment became nil." He replied honestly. "My shame steals the joy out of anything I do."

<You regret the choices you made?> 

"I do not regret having you for a child. I regret that I killed so many and the crimes committed against the siblings who didn't make it. I regret how I've treated you. I don't know if I could make it up to the survivors but I will at the least try for the time I have and make sure your siblings do not go through the struggles you did." The king chose his words carefully. "I believed I had no other recourse. No other choice that wouldn't see my people dead or entirely enslaved to the Old Light-but I do not think I deserve forgiveness for being a kinslayer, for my mistreatment of you. I have been something to you for sixteen years. Would have been that for two years more, so you could have your final moulting and complete your training. I would have nailed that armor to your carapace and left you to her tender mercies. In that, I was wrong. I intended to kill myself once I was sure my people were safe and could carry on in my absence."

<It knows. It realized that when it went down into the Abyss before becoming the Shade Lord.> The vessel spoke, voice thick with pain. <You're dying, aren't you father. That's why you don't mind sacrificing yourself to the Grimm Troupe either. You are dying and you want to die.>

"I've done too much to live or to allow myself the pleasures in living. The situation in Hallownest is my fault. Your pain is my fault. The many, many broken masks in the Abyss are my fault. I am a kinslayer, who committed infanticide of his own children. Even a god doesn't get forgiveness for those kinds of horrible actions. I deserve the suffering you children experienced. I deserve the deaths I visited upon the children I deemed not good enough. Yes. I am suffering void poisoning, it is an agony I bear constantly. My light holds it at bay enough that I can live five more years without drastic actions." He spoke bluntly.

<Did you poison yourself deliberately?>

"Exposure to void with proper protections isn't deadly. A bug can be scarred by void without dying, in fact the exposure can have beneficial effects such as on the ageless mask maker. Void poisoning in mild cases caught early enough is treatable. So I suppose yes. I did that to myself deliberately." He spoke numbly. "It's… actually a relief to admit that. I wasn't expecting that."

<It's not treatable now. You're dying. How long do you have left?> Hallow felt like the ground was opening beneath their feet.

"No, even I will succumb to a case this severe having gone on this long. Five to seven years, depending." Wyrm spoke clinically. "Your mother doesn't know, but she's not very curious and finds my company odious these days. I don't want her to know."

<You aren't the only one. Would you die as a member of the Grimm Troupe?> Hallow pondered.

"No, time is frozen in a sense for a member of the Troupe. As a sacrifice, my original body would likely be immolated, the presence of void cast out as anathema to it as well. It's not got a will of its own so expelling it for the Nightmare Heart would be doable. It's just not for me between having a corpus much closer to mortal form and my diminishment as a god." 

Hallow rubbed a hand over their chest. <Father, please free this vessel today. Now.> It was firm. <This vessel just wants to love you as themself. Not as your property, as your child. Whatever you have done, it does not know if it can forgive, but love. Love is something this vessel has always been able to give.>

The first time Hallow had ever demanded anything for themself and only themself.

Tears came from the king's eyes. "As you wish, Lord of Shades my child."

The bindings lit up as the king touched, claws digging into the mask with a strange sensation that felt like it should hurt but didn't. The light burned, the mark burned. But the claws were quick, chanting even and fast. Soul pooled around the king's hands. 

The chains broke and Hallow felt a weight come off, something they hadn't realized had been there for a very long time. The remnants would be there, like an invisible scar until they moulted, but then-then it would be gone.

It would take time for them to understand what they'd gained and lost at once. <Today I learned that this one's father is not brave. Please. Please live. Even if your crimes are too much for your heart to bear. Stop running away. Please. Face what you have done, face us who you have wronged. It's not too late.>

 "...I can try. I love you, my child." He touched foreheads with Hallow, a familial kiss. "For all you vessels, I will try. I don't know how anymore, but I can still learn."

Hallow is not an adult. They are, however, now free of their father's chains.

[switchbrainedholylime]

O, Canada

A small gift of Renga fic to @emmettspeakz

Reki laid on the floor awoken by the sun’s rays. He and Langa had just ended up having an impounti sleepover at his workshop since he stayed up until 3 in the morning fixing up their boards. The redhead looked over at Langa who muttered to himself in his sleep. 

“Oui, j'aimerais le pain au chocolat (Yes, I’d like the chocolate croissant). Oui, l'école va bien (Yes, school’s fine)...Papa, quand nous reverrons-nous? (Father, when will we meet again?)...Adieu,” Langa opened his eyes only to see a very confused Reki. “What’s wrong?” 

“You were just sayin’ some weird stuff in yer sleep.” Reki answered.  

“Oh, was I talking in French again? Sorry, I grew up in a resort town between Quebec City and Montreal, where there’s a lot of French-speakers. I speak French, English, and Japanese.” Langa yawned, “Sometimes I speak another language in my sleep.” 

“Really? That’s so cool.” Reki’s eyes glistened.   

“My adopted dad Oliver-”

“Wait, wait, hold on. You’re adopted? Since when?” Reki’s glistening eyes turned to confusion.  

“Yeah, haven’t you ever wondered why I don’t look like my parents?” Langa pointed to himself. “My biological dad gave me up to his two friends Oliver and my mom when I was...4? Yeah, that sounds right. He was really busy with work; he’s a UN representative for Canada and he felt it’d look bad on his part to have a bastard kid so he swept it under the rug. Though it might come out if I go through with Miya on competing in the Olympics in a few years.” 

“That sucks, I had no idea...,” Reki sighed, “Who am I kiddin’? I’m practically in the same boat. My dad works at a black company. The old man gets maybe four hours of sleep a week if he’s lucky. I never want to end up like him, just tied to an office chair.”

“What do you want to do?” Langa asked. 

“I don’t know. Skate, I guess.” Reki yawned.  

“Yeah, but even skilled skaters like Cherry and Joe have day jobs. Hell, even Adam does and he runs the circuit.” Langa brought up. 

“Man, don’t bring up that bastard’s name this early in the morning.” Reki groaned. “Besides, I got that job at the shop.”  

“We both know that’s not gonna pay the bills,” Langa pointed out. 

“True.” Reki sat up, “Our English teacher said the career survey’s due on Monday. Ugh, I still haven’t got a clue.”

“You’re pretty good with your hands and handling tools. You don’t want an office job, and I can’t blame you. Maybe technical school?” Langa suggested. 

“Joe mentioned that last week. He said he’d be glad to write a letter of recommendation for the trade school he went to, but I don’t know if I’d like to work in a kitchen.” Reki looked over at his tools. “Maybe a handyman? I’d probably like fixin’ things up a whole lot more than I would be at my dad’s place. Just thinking about being a boring salaryman makes me wanna puke. Dad always looks so miserable, like someone just yanked his soul out of his chest.” 

“So sort of what you looked like after skating with Adam?” Langa asked. “Except all of the time?”  

“Please don’t say that bastard’s name. It’s too early in the morning.” Reki moaned and rubbed his eyes. “Or ever say it,” 

Langa laughed lightly as Reki pouted. “Hey, I wasn’t joking!”

“I know.” Langa smiled and then planted a small kiss on Reki’s cheek. “My biological father and I meet up to have dinner once every six months. I only recently mentioned that I was dating you in a text and he told me he wants to meet you.” 

“I’ll need to brush up on my English then.” Reki sighed. 

“I’m sure Boyer-sensei will help.” 

-------------    

Their English teacher was a brunette American woman they called “Boyer-sensei”. She had a larger frame and was pale. She walked around collecting the career survey forms from her students. As usual, Reki was looking at his phone, texting with Langa about a new skate trick they saw on Instagram. 

“Reki Kyan. Langa Hasegawa.” Boyer-sensei looked down at the redhead and blue-haired skaters. “Do you have the forms I passed out last week? The student council wants them to be collected by tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Yeah,” The couple handed them to their English teacher. 

Boyer-sensei was genuinely shocked. “You never have your homework done.” 

“Are your standards really that low for us?” Langa appeared distraught. 

“Yes, they are.” Boyer stated firmly as she read Reki’s list. “A repairman...construction worker...hold on, are you really Reki Kyan? You’re not an Auton, are you?”

“What’s an Auton?” Reki asked. 

“It’s a monster from Dr. Who.” Langa explained. “They create replicas of humans. Do you not have Dr. Who available in Japan?”  

Reki was quiet for an awkward moment. He wasn’t sure. “Well, I figured it was a weird nerd reference.” 

“Anyway, Boyer-sensei, most skaters have day jobs. I’m NOT giving up skating anytime soon.” Reki grinned and winked over at Langa who smiled back. 

“I guess that makes sense. I-I just never thought the day would come where you have a single brain cell or atom of responsibility in your veins.” Boyer-sensei was floored. “The world really is ending.” 

------

A few weeks later, the day finally arrived where Reki would have to get into a decent pair of dress clothing for the first time since...ever. Cherry and Joe helped Reki pick out a traditional red yukata that didn’t feel trashy as his regular look but not so stuffy it made him visibly uncomfortable.

[SNOW (LANGA): Just got in his rental from the airport. I gave his coiffeur your address. We’re on our way.] 

[REKI: Cool. Waiting outside.]  

Reki stood at the edge of his driveway tapping his skateboard nervously. He tried to imagine what a fancy-ass version of Langa would look like in a suit with the UN logo.  

A vintage red BMW pulled up. He instantly recognized Langa who was in a iron pressed dress shirt and khakis. The coiffeur was a local man he recognized as a regular at S and the shop, but he was silent the entire time. 

Next to him was a man with Langa’s exact same hair, face, and height. The only difference the eye and hair color along with the fact that he wore glasses. He had blond hair and purple eyes. His dad didn’t look that old. He looked like he was in his early twenties. He was even more well-dressed than Langa and Reki combined. A satin beige suit, Italians handmade shoes, slightly wavy hair that smelled like fresh-brewed coffee.  

Shadow looks older than this guy. Reki blinked, his face full of confusion. Did he say father or brother? Reki was almost positive Langa said father, but how young was he when he had him? Two? 

Reki shook his head. Just don’t blow it, don’t sound like the moron you are in front of this fancy-dancy foreign guy. 

“Hey, Langa! Got a fancier ride than usual?” Reki greeted them with a smile. 

Langa blinked at his and the other man. “Yeah, you wanna get in.” 

The moment Reki got in there was an awkward silence. Reki sat in the middle of the two Canadians. The redhead had a million questions but the air in the backseat was so thick. 

 “So you smell like coffee.” Renga stated as Langa shake his head. “That’s a good thing. I usually smell like sweat and Mountain Dew. I actually took a shower today and brushed my teeth.” Reki smiled brightly. 

“Good, glad to know.” The diplomat smiled nervously. “My name’s Matthew Williams, PhD, Canadian UN diplomat.” 

“I’m Reki Kyan...I like to skate. I work part-time at this skate shop with Langa. We’ve been dating for...I think four months.” The redhead explained. 

“I’ve heard from Langa’s mother. Thanks for teaching Langa and being with him. So is there skate hotels you like to frequent?” Matthew asked. 

“Does the hospital count?” Reki asked. 

“I wouldn’t exactly give it five stars. Langa, has Japan been treating you well so far?” Matthew asked.  

“Yeah, most people are pretty nice. There’s no Tim Hortons, but I’ve gotten addicted to Ramen. Still would love a donut every now and then.” 

“That’s the place where they sell donuts instead of fries, right?” Reki looked over at his boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” Langa replied.

“Man that sounds delicious!” Reki smiled.

“So Langa, your mother told me that you and Reki had a falling out a month ago because of this shady person called Adam.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” 

“You know I’ve made people...disappear before for ignoring me, causing me trouble, just being an obnoxious brat of a twin brother who tormented me since 1867 until I couldn’t take it anymore.” Matthew stated with a mixture of innocence and sinstery. “I could make this ‘Adam’ person disappear, too. I’ve made good friends with Russia since we used to share a border back when Alaska was part of the Soviet Union.” 

“What do you mean ‘disappear’?” Reki’s eyes widened. “Wait, how old are you? You were around during the Cold War...that’s um, Langa?”

“Alaska was annexed by the US in the 1950s.” Langa stated. 

“Right, I knew that.” Reki nodded. “Uh, so wouldn’t that make you seventy or something? Like my grandpa’s seventy-three and he’s got really bad teeth.”

“Reki, why don’t you tell him about your career survey?” Langa smiled. 

“Oh, I’m planning on going to technical school.” 

“That’s nice.” 

There was an awkward silence between the trio. 

“So...are you going to charge me anything for making Adam ‘disappear’? You’re not going to get in trouble for that, are you?” Reki asked. 

“I have diplomatic immunity.” Matthew replied, “Laws don’t apply to me.” 

“Well, I won’t lie it is tempting.” Reki bit his lip. 

----------

1 week later 

Reki, Langa, Miya, Shadow, and Cherry relaxed at Joe’s Italian restaurant as the TV played the noontime news. 

“Politician Ainosuke Shindo has been found in his mansion dead since yesterday morning. It’s suspected that the killer used radioactive poison to taint his food. If you have any information, please contact the police.” The newswoman stood outside of Adam’s mansion that was taped off.

Everyone looked over at Reki and Langa. 

“What?” They stared around at their fellow skaters. 

[pbandjesse]

What an excellent day off. I had a great time just resting. But it was also a productive day.

I was really happy to be home. I had a great weekend in Philly but it's not the same as being home. And waking up with James is always really good.

I actually slept really well. Waking up was hard but it was okay. I felt kind of gross. I am still upset about cutting my bangs to short but I'm trying to not let it upset me. Though it is.

I got washed up and dressed. I had pulled this dress out of my dresser back at my parent's house. Felt nice and colorful. And it helped me feel a little nicer.

James had been doing the laundry. And was finishing up getting the clothes form the dryer. Which allowed up to really jump into our practice packing for the honeymoon.

I was really looking forward to this. I love packing and honestly it went so well. My list I made a few months ago really helped streamline the whole thing.

James would run around and grab everything that was nonclothes. And once that was all gathered we would both pull out clothes. I had made a list of types but I'm still not sure exactly which pieces will be coming with me. But that's alright. I had the size and amount. And so we were able to figure out which packing cubes we each needed. What bag is holding what things. And we did such a good job!! I had so much extra space in my backpack! I'm thrilled.

James said it was really a good idea to do this. Because they didn't know how their clothes were going to fit in the suitcase I gave them and now they have a better idea and really I just had fun.

Once we were done that we both put stuff away. I spent some time picking outfits for the week and then picking outfits for camping with Jess over Easter weekend. Which was hard only because I have so many good fleeces now. But I figured it out and I'm very happy with my choices.

James would go for a bike ride before it started raining. And I just enjoyed my time alone. I decided to finally start my next embroidery project. James got me this white bag last year. And it's just such a good open space to work on. So I'll fill it up. And it will just be a continuous project like my puhtok bag is.

I would do that for a while. And soon James was home. And it started to rain soon after that.

James would have lunch and get a shower. I was just chilling. And then it was time to go get groceries.

Which was a bit demoralizing. Everything is just so expensive. Yogurt was $3. The rice I like was $4! A two pack of peanut butter was $20!! It just felt bad. We both made guess for the total and James guessed only $1 off. But it didn't feel like we got much.

We drove over to the Walgreens to see if they have the magnesium I wanted but no luck. Though James thought it was interesting that they had krill pills.

We made one more stop at the fancy grocery store to get the vegan shrimp I like. And then we went home. After James put the groceries away I would get to work reorganizing our snack basket and the freezer. While James would work on the other room cutting bears out for my workshop this weekend. James is the best.

It was nice just organizing. Making things feel a little less cluttered. And once I was done I would have a snack and start working on my tablet.

James would come and lay with me for a bit. We watched tiktoks and just chilled until they made us dinner. I had a quesadilla and drew for the rest of the night.

Mom asked me to update the bear I made of her. Change the color to more of a periwinkle and give her better bangs. It took a while to get the color right but we got it! And then I spent the next few hours drawing the entire solar system. Which I am absolutely thrilled with. I learned some new stuff about the brushes I have and mixing colors. I was just having a ball.

Making them all on one sheet was also fun and a challenge. Trying to make them relatively in scale took a whole. It's just a really nice project.

I took a shower and washed my hair and now I am chilling in bed with James and Sweetp and I am going to dry my hair a bit and get ready to sleep.

Tomorrow I am at the museum. And it should be a good day. I hope I have good kids. I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well and be safe!!!

[inkribbon796]

Shutdown Ch. 3

Chapter 3: Damage Control

Summary: Logan finally finds Nate and things continue to escalate.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3

Nate was talking with a couple of Legionnaire hunters in some bar when he got a text from both Bing and Marvin that Logan was heading his way, and that he was acting weird.

Problem number one: he preferred not to be seen with the other hunters around the Coalition. Especially since the hunters didn’t like how “permissive” Nate was about them keeping demons under their roof. The singer took great joy in telling them to take their heads out of their asses and not to attack people. And that he was not going to help them until they stopped.

Problem number two: he very possibly more than a little bit drunk.

“Hey Nate, you might want to watch out. Logan’s upset.” It was from Bing.

“In fine,” Nate struggled to text.

That was when Marvin rushed in, he took one look at the hunters and said, “Get outta here, Google’s coming an’ he’ll kill yah guys if he sees yeh, come on Nate.”[1]

“Come on, let’s wait for Lo,” Nate told him, before the singer called over to the bartender. “Hey Greg, can I get a gin and tonic for my friend, he’s coming in.”

“Nope, nope,” Marvin said and after a couple minutes was able to pull Nate out of the bar. The hunters didn’t leave but they hung around the area.

“Come on Nate, help me out a little” Marvin muttered. Silver flying overhead with Henrik, Patton, and a couple of bags.

“I haven’t had drinks with Logan in ages, I’ve been out of town doing fuck all,” Nate complained.

“Yeah, whose fault is that?” Marvin retorted as he dragged him out.

“It’s freezing out here,” Nate complained. Mare was getting antsy, clearly better able to read the room — so to speak — than his inebriated host.

“Sharp!” Logan called as he walked over, still in his uniform, Roman hot on his heels. Google kept his distance as Bing and Jackie were braced for trouble.

“Ahhh, hey Lo,” Nate smiled, even after Logan walked over and ripped the singer out of Marvin’s hands and slammed him against the brick wall of the bar.

“What the fook[2]!” Marvin spat in surprise. Logan wasn’t violent. Logan at least tried to communicate.

“Where is it?” Logan demanded.

“Hmm, what?” Nate slurred. He was tired, and maybe he was a little more drunk than he thought he was.

Logan’s hands got a little close to Nate’s throat. “My camera, what did you do with it?”

“You said it was fine,” Nate reminded.

“You stole from me!” Logan spat in a rage. “Give it back.”

“Logic,” Silver warned, putting a hand on the Side’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to the base and talk this over.”

“So he can steal from me again?” Logan spat and shoved into Silver with much more force than the other hero expected. He could have easily withstood the shove and not moved but he wasn’t expecting it.

Mare was finally fed up with the situation and easily pushed himself into control of the body, surging out of the necklace and grabbing onto Logan’s wrist with a false light grip. “Hey hero, let’s not make a scene in front of people.”

The Side looked back at Mare and Nate, dark lines coming down from Mare’s eyes. The arm of the suit briefly vibrated for a second before Mare felt electricity coursing through the body. He quickly kicked Logan away before he could do damage the demon couldn’t block.

“All this for a fucking splitter?” Mare shouted. “Thought you were the smart one.”

“I don’t care what you two want it for,” Logan proclaimed, “he stole it from me and everyone is insisting I keep waiting until he gives it back.”

“Come on Nate,” Mare decided, “time to sober up. I think it’s time you got a nightcap, buddy.”

“I just don’t understand why I am forced to sit idly by while things are taken from me,” Logan spat.

“Yeah well Nate’s drunk, so you’ll have to wait until he’s sober again,” Mare told him.

Logan went quiet for a second before something that looked like brass knuckles shot out of his suit and Mare didn’t like the look of them. He knew Logic wasn’t a brawler, so there was no way he was just planning on beating the shit out of Nate and taking the camera off his broken body.

“Okay, alright,” Mare began sliding along the wall, trying to put distance between Nate and Logan, “I’m still using this body, just don’t hit the face. I need it.”

“You demons and your face fixation is a little unnerving,” Roman commented.

“You’d be surprised what you can get away with if you have a nice face,” Mare defended. “If I wanted absolute power I could get that just about anywhere.”

Logan went to hit Nate’s chest, clearly just trying to get into contact with him rather than go for a quick knockout.

“Hey!” Mare yelled.

“Bing, get the can opener,” Silver ordered.

Bing was quick to move it and between Silver holding him down and Bing working with the nanites they got the suit fully turned off.

Logan stopped talking and fighting, just quietly laying there, Mare released Nate who looked a bit more sober and hungover than before and he rubbed at his eyes as Henrik began trying to find what was wrong.

“He said he was fine with me holding onto it,” Nate grumbled, keeping his eyes on the bar. None of the other Legionnaires had come out of help or confront him about Mare.

“I guess he wasn’t,” Roman commented.

“You okay?” Patton asked Nate.

“My head feels like sandpaper and my mouth feels like ass,” Nate grumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

Henrik directed Silver to take Logan to the hospital since he: A— wasn’t breathing; B— didn’t have a heartbeat; and C— was cold to the touch.

Mare quickly took back control of Nate’s body and just ran off into the night before anyone could stop him, and Google stayed following from a distance. He didn’t go into the hospital but he was very clearly watching from a distance for a while before leaving to take his notes and test back to his workshop.

Virgil raced into the hospital, since he’d been called by Patton about what was going on. He proceeded to freak out and have a mental breakdown.

At this moment several things were missed. A swath of freckles covered by a mask. The fact that Virgil’s eyeshadow was always dark and did weird things sometimes. And since people tend not to look down when directed, there was a black stain on the hem of Roman’s normally perfectly white coat.

Logan was admitted to a room for treatment where the doctors stated that he was still pumping blood and his heartbeat had returned, but he wasn’t breathing so he was going to be kept for tests.

After everyone had called asleep, Janus slipped in, disguised as a nurse. He’d been watching for a couple hours, waiting for his moment to move in.

Janus sighed as he walked in, looking at all the Sides. More importantly he looked at the new additions on the Sides. The freckles, the deep black eyeshadow, the black tinge on a coat, and most damning of all Logan laying there in the middle, not breathing.

A deeper sigh came from his chest. “Oh Logan, what have you done?”

From his caplet he pulled a spell book, and flipped it open to a page before he started chanting a spell. He made sure to do so quietly so that none of the Light Sides would wake up. His aura lit up into a magical circle around the Light Sides.

Once Janus stopped speaking, Logan drew in a breath and everything finally went back to normal. Patton’s face had his normal late winter pallor. Roman’s coat was its normal color. Virgil’s eyeshadow looked slightly lighter.

Janus let out a sigh of relief, using his nurse illusion again but promising, “Don’t worry, I won’t let this happen again.”

Carefully the deceitful protective Side left the room and the hospital was left none the wiser.

After the warehouse the silent sniper had followed Google outside the bar until the other heroes had swarmed around Logic. The accidental victim had seemed fine, a little more aggressive than he was usually reported as being. But then there was all this talk about a lack of a heartbeat, and Nate had clearly been possessed and slipped off into the night without waiting to talk to anyone.

Or more likely the demon suspected it would be forcibly placed back into containment.

It wasn’t until the coast was clear that the hunter got into a car and drove just outside of Gainesville city limits while they could still reach the location. It looked like a simple storefront if not for the plain clothes agents inside.

The hunter flashed a quick ID badge and the guards let the hunter in, barely offering a comment as they headed down the stairs to a room where there were four people talking. Three men in suits, and a woman wearing a cloak with rune tattoos going up and down her arms.

The hunter threw the crossbow down in front of the woman, “You gave me the wrong spell.”

“Excuse me,” one of the men in suits barked angrily. “We are having a discussion, if you could wait until we’re done.”

“No, they were sent to get Google, I want to hear how it went,” one of the other men in suits commented, he was in front of a laptop working on something.

“Fine,” the first spat. “I can already see it didn’t work.”

“Calm down,” the woman told him. “What happened?”

“I had the robot in my sights but the arrow hit the hero instead,” Taylor told her. “He saw me, I was told he was a null. I shouldn’t have even been able to hit him by accident.”

“You’re positive that it was one of the null heroes?” She asked.

“Director,” one of the agents walked in with a new folder and handed it to the more frustrated suited man before he handed it to the man who was in front of the computer.

“This thing should be decommissioned and ripped apart,” he commented, Wezel remembering how Google had almost killed him in his own office. “At least the other one doesn’t try to rip your nuts off.”

“I’m not losing all the resources we dumped into it, I want this thing back,” the Director reminded. “If I have to get them back as scrap, I’ll take it.”

“Fine,” Wezel snapped. “Would help if you all used the stuff I made.”

“We did,” Taylor snapped. “It targeted someone else.”

“That’s impossible,” Wezel insisted. “It wasn’t designed to work on people.”

“Well that obviously doesn’t seem like the case,” the third man in a suit commented. His suit was an off beige and his tie was a blood red color. His smile was as sharp as broken glass.

The Actor’s placement was off but he fit like a puzzle piece, forced into place and his aura dampened to look human.

“I don’t care what it seems like, you can’t give someone a computer virus,” Wezel snapped.

“I think maybe you can,” the Actor smiled confidently.

“No, you can’t,” Wezel pulled a file out of the stack and slid it over to the Actor. “Here, take it and just go already.”

The Actor stood up, flipping through it, “Screw this robot hunt, Dames is mayor again.”

“We have more important things to worry about than a corrupt politician,” the Director reminded firmly. “But if you want to deal with it, be my guest.”

“Nice, ah-score,” the Actor smiled and kept flipping through the folder until he found a set of pictures stapled onto the folder to keep them from falling out.

They were different pictures of Dark’s Lost Ones, the Actor ignored all the others to the side and ripped Illinois’s picture out.

“You sure this kid is Wil’s?” The Actor chuckled. “Looks a bit too good looking to come from that sleaze ball.”

“Who cares at this point?” Taylor commented. “They’re all spawnlings by now.”

“Well I lost something a couple years back, looks like Dames found him for me,” Marc smiled, taking the picture as he stood up. “You need me for anything else, Director?”

“No,” the Director scoffed. “As far as I’m concerned, you and these other magic freaks can all get lost.”

“Alright, see you all around then,” the Actor just walked out, whistling to himself as he left, a slight skip in his step.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. Get out of here, Google’s coming and he’ll kill you guys if he sees you, come on Nate.

2. fuck

[xxcureangelxx]

5, 9, 10, 13, 20, 21, 24, 25, 28, 30-35, 38-42, 44-46, 50, 52, 54, 60-62, 66, 71-74, 86-91, 96, 100! 😊

okay I literally have no clue how old this is and if I'm even taking the questions from the right post but here goes I guess? 🙈

<u>5. What is your favorite Color?</u>

PURPLE

<u>9. How tall are you?</u>

about 1,70 meters or 5'7"

<u>10. What shoe size are you?</u>

size 40-41, I think that's about 8 in US sizes?

<u>13. What talents do you have?</u>

uhhh good question... not sure if it counts but I guess I'm quite good at a lot if things but can't do anything extraordinarily well?

<u>20. Are you religious?</u>

Absolutely not. Due to family history and a lot of other things I'm actually against it a lot but people can do whatever they feel like is right for them as long as they don't harm others with it.

<u>21. Have you ever been to the hospital?</u>

Yes, quite a lot actually. practically grew up in hospitals as a baby because of kidney issues, broke both my legs with 4 years old, had to revisit for tests a lot during my childhood because of the kidney issue. it calmed down afterwards until I was back in hospital last year because of my terrible mental health and I'm currently in a rehabilitation clinic for it as well.

<u>24. Baths or showers?</u>

Shower's because we don't have a bathtub

<u>25. What color socks are you wearing?</u>

currently none, I love going barefoot, but usually I wear white, gray or black. I know... I'm a bad gay.. no rainbow socks (;ŏ﹏ŏ)

<u>28. What type of music do you like?</u>

you know.... I hate this question with a passion even though I love music so I'll just throw in my yt-playlist here and everyone who's interested can look through it to get a picture xD not sorted in any way and not a conclusive list at all, I just add songs as I find them

<u>30. How many pillows do you sleep with?</u>

mostly just one at a time but I've got two different ones. one is the normal fluffy kinda pillow, the other is made of some kinda foam material and rather thin.

<u>31. What position do you usually sleep in?</u>

I'm always lying on the side! have been doing that since I was a baby too.

<u>32. How big is your house?</u>

compared to what? 🙈 I'd say decent size for 5 people to live in, would have space for 1-2 more if rooms were used differently but definitely not enough to comfortably live with 12 or even more people like my family used to. we've got like 3 proper sleeping rooms (one of which is the attic so not very nice in terms of heat and the staircase is smack in the middle of the room), a kitchen, a dining room, a big living room, a tiny bathroom that barely fits a toilet and shower, and the basement is a mix of storage, electrics and stuff, washing room/utility room and it's got another smaller room that's been turned back into a small workshop but used to be the room of my brother and later my grandmother.

<u>33. What do you typically have for breakfast?</u>

I guess this is where it shows that I'm german but we usually just eat bread (preferably whole grain) with cheese or slices of salami or ..meat sausage? is that a proper translation? 🤨 idk... it's rather simple really. on the weekend maybe buns and boiled eggs. on the occasion that I'm too tired for it or don't have enough time I eat cereals but it's not very common when I'm at work/school

<u>34. Have you ever fired a gun?</u>

No, and I don't want to

<u>35. Have you ever tried archery?</u>

Yes!! I did last year when I was in the hospital and it was super fun! was quite good at it as well, even for my first try 😤

<u>38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?</u>

I think about 3 days? if we count "barely unconscious for a few hours" as sleep that is... otherwise no clue...my memory of the bad sleepless time is quite hazy lol

<u>39. Do you have any scars?</u>

yeah, quite a few tbh. got 2 huge ones from surgeries due to my kidney issues, well they look like 2 but it's actually multiple ones since they simply cut open party of the old ones again, tiny hooman apparently have very little skin. then I got some other ones here and there from accidents, general dumbness, etc, like when I cut through my sunday morning bun and almost cut half of the tip of my finger off because my mother sharpened the knife and didn't tell me or that time as a kid I couldn't wait for my ironing pearl pictures to be done and burned myself on the hot iron, mostly stuff like that.

<u>40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?</u>

I mean.. if they're a secret... how would I know? ;) not sure if it counts that it took me months to realize I had a crush on my best friend and the feelings were reciprocated and I was too blind to see the signs?

<u>41. Are you a good liar?</u>

Nope. People actually think I'm lying more often than I lie... so.... :/

<u>42. Are you a good judge of character?</u>

I'm.. honestly not sure what this one means? like, am I able to judge what kind of character a person has after barely meeting them or smth? if so, I'm terrible at it

<u>44. Do you have a strong accent?</u>

in german? nope. in english? hmm hard to judge since I rarely hear myself speak. I think the stuff I do know how to pronounce is mostly okay but since I learned it through reading I'm simply unsure of a lot of pronunciations. 'also'.... I can not for the life of me pronouns that word no matter how many times I hear it... it's kinda become a quirk after some classmates pointed it out to me and I'm incredibly aware how terrible I say the word but.... just can't get rid of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

<u>45. What is your favorite accent?</u>

I.. actually really love the way my best friend talks? 👉👈 they're french btw. just... typical me for struggling to understand them though, already terrible at it in german too...

<u>46. What is your personality type?</u>

honestly, I don't think I can answer that. I'm big on self loathing and everything's pretty shitty so, no thanks

<u>50. Left or right handed?</u>

Right handed. but does it even count id I'm bad at doing things with that hand too? lol

<u>52. Favorite food?</u>

hmmmm tough question... not the biggest fan of food in general a lot of the time... probably Züricher Geschnetzeltes

<u>54. Are you a clean or a messy person?</u>

Definitely messy. my allergies did not like this post trying to clean and tidy up more often though. my depression does not like this post either

<u>60. Do you talk to yourself?</u>

sometimes. quite a bit when watching movies or if I mess stuff up

<u>61. Do you sing to yourself?</u>

barely. got a lot of bad experiences with that so i keep my singing to a minimum. my shower is a great listener though

<u>62. Are you a good singer?</u>

I was in a choir for a few years when I went to 'middle school' and I had like one solo part once but other than that I can't really say because I barely ever sing in front of people

<u>66. Do you like long or shor hair?</u>

this question is currently my absolute nemesis.. I've got suuuper duper long hair and have had it ever since elementary school and I used to be super happy with it and sometimes I still am happy with it but other days, depending on where I'm at genderwise, I absolutely hate it and I just want to take the closest scissors and cut it all off... currently haven't had the guts to look for new hair styles though... but in other people? or women more specifically? I love long hair 🥺

<u>71. What makes you nervous?</u>

Or the shorter question: what doesn't make me nervous... I'd say pretty much everything has got the potential to make me nervous. I'm an overthinker, anxiety is a big thing for me and ptsd makes me scared of almost everything. so.. yeah... sucks to be me sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

<u>72. Are you scared of the dark?</u>

Yes, very

<u>73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?</u>

I try not to but sadly I sometimes do, even if it's not my place to. I really don't like that part and hope I'll be able to learn not to sometime

<u>74. Are you ticklish?</u>

Yes and I hate it 😭

<u>86. What are you allergic to?</u>

again, easier question: what am I not allergic to... it's... a lot... like, really a lot. with the test on the skin of my arm I reacted to every single substance and the more thorough blood test lead to much of the same result. the absolute worst are birch trees (pitty, love those), then the usual pollen of pretty much every tree or flower, all animals with fur or feathers, dust and... yeah list goes on and on, you get the picture... :/

<u>87. Do you keep a journal?</u>

no.. have tried to multiple times in the past but never made it more than a week... too depressing to write and read... the therapist at the rehab clinic is currently forcing me to try a positivity diary for the millionths time, can't even get that done each day even though I'm doing it on my phone and get notifications to do it each evening...

<u>88. What do your parents do?</u>

making my life hell lol.. okay on a serious note, my father was a car electrician, he's retired by now, my mother is a housewife, she used to work different jobs before her first kid, later on she took care of my grandmother who was suffering from dementia, got some money and retirement points for that too.

<u>89. Do you like your age?</u>

I-... I don't know? it's weird because I both feel a lot younger and a lot older than I am rn....

<u>90. What makes you angry?</u>

another tough question... I actually have anger issues in that way that I'm barely capable of feeling anger... used to be worse but I already worked a lot on it in therapy so there's at least some there now... in the past I simply started to cry and felt overwhelmed by sadness whenever I was supposed to feel anger... so I can't tell very well what makes me angry because I first have to realize that I'm feeling anger or more like should be feeling it....

<u>91. Do you like your own name?</u>

Not really, no, but I guess I finally figured out some reasons why.. I've recently started going by a bit of a different name too but only my closest friends know so far and I'm not sure if I'll be using it irl at all..

<u>96. How did you get your name?</u>

I'm still trying to get my mother to admit that she named me after this song but she keeps denying it.. she's a fan of this band so it would have fit.. but she keeps saying she just liked the name, no long thought process behind it..

my chosen name is a bit of a different story. an ex friend I got to know through yt gave me that nickname almost 10 years ago after I complained that you can't make a shorter nickname out of my birthname and it's also the name of s character I like, especially his voice, and... idk it just feels more gender neutral and I simply feel comfortable with it. it just fit.

<u>100. Color of your room?</u>

same as question 5: Purple 🥰 or... well half the walls are purple, the other half is white

phew... can't believe I made it through all of these....

in case people haven't noticed yet, I'm currently kinda getting back into tumblr? I think I've already stayed a lot longer than any times I tried getting back before. it mostly started because we've got super bad wifi at the clinc I'm at rn and reddit takes up waaayy too much mobile data and... idk, I guess I just missed the vibe of tumblr

I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stick around but we'll see

[latin-dr-robotnik]

Sonic’s memento collection (SonAmy prompt)

Prompt suggested by @itsnicky13​! It’s been a while since I last picked up and expanded on something that wasn’t... well... tsundere Sonic, and I think this one is a very nice and cute idea to work with! 

Prompt goes: what if Sonic dropped the bracelet Amy made for him to wear back in the Sonic X episode “The Last Resort”, and he struggled to tell her how he kept it after all this time, since she always thought the bracelet was lost.

I personally got a lot more excited by the first part of the idea, but I hope you still enjoy it regardless!

“Wait, is that...?” Amy was ready to throw herself back to the battle, but the sight of it stopped her right on her tracks, as she slowly approached the sand covered thing... 

“What, Amy? What?” Sonic wasn’t having the time of his life, struggling to fight against the snake-like Aqua Bots that were playing around with his biggest weakness: the sea. He kept running from the beach to the docks and back, yet the bots were untouched, unloading their high-pressure water cannons on him and starting to close up the distance for a quick grab at the wet hedgehog.

Amy reached for the now clearly visible bracelet, feeling a strong mix of emotions as she recalled her memories of the one she once made exclusively for him...

“Oh my... did you really keep it all this time?”

“Amy, we’re in the middle of a battle if you haven’t noticed!”

One Aqua Bot managed to grab Sonic’s legs at the dock, while another was racing towards his left arm, with the hedgehog struggling to break free.

“I can’t believe it, after so long...” Amy murmured, “I thought it was lost... but how...?”

“Amy! A little help over here? Amy!”

“Oh? Yeah, right, the robots.” She quickly snapped back to reality, running towards Sonic at the dock, and throwing her hammer at the Aqua Bots like it was a big, deadly boomerang. 

She smashed all of them with one swift throw.

“Aaaaaand... they’re gone.”

“Geez, girl, what took you so long?” Sonic sat down on the dock, shaking his wet quills. “What were you talking about back there?”

Amy sat next to him, staring at the entire Diamond City Bay. She played with her fingers for a bit, still processing what she just found out.

“Sonic, did you really keep it all this time?”

“The what, Amy?”

“My bracelet, you fool!” Amy snapped at him for a moment, before pulling out the old bracelet and quietly reflecting on it. “The one I made for you... you just dropped it during the battle.”

“Ah? Oh! That thing!” Sonic grabbed the bracelet from Amy’s hands, then checked if it was still in one piece. “I must’ve dropped it when the Aqua Bot just poured that big shot of water on me, ha ha!”

“I though it was lost, gone forever... how did you get it back?”

“Uhh... I...” Sonic hesitated for a bit.

“Yeah...?”

He tried to look away from the pink hedgehog looking straight at him with so many questions in her mind. He never actually told her what happened to that bracelet, and now he didn’t know how to explain it.

“I, well... found it... and fixed it... and... stored it back in my collection for a while...”

“OHMYGOSH!” Amy immediately jumped out of emotion, gasping and holding her hands to her chest. “Do you actually have a collection?!”

“Oh, shoot...” Sonic quickly realized his mistake, as Amy’s mind ran wild with the thought of him having lots more things from her than she actually imagined.

“And what does it look like?” Amy asked, following shortly with a rapid streak of more questions. “What cool stuff do you have there? Does anyone else know about it? Why didn’t you tell me before?!”

“Well, I guess I ran straight into this one...” Sonic thought, as he finally accepted it was time to let her enter his life just a little more. 

“Alright, I’ll show you.” He let out, defeated.

“Yayyyy!” Amy happily grabbed Sonic’s arm, pulling him up and holding his hands. “C’mon, let’s not waste any more time!”

“Just hold on tight.”

And so, Sonic and a very enthusiastic Amy blasted away from the beach. On the way to Sonic’s secret collection, he kept thinking about it, letting out a couple more details about it to Amy as he carried her on his arms.

“You know... I always had a room at Tails’ place, since that’s where I end up crashing after a long adventure together.” Sonic commented. “For a while, the room was pretty empty, only having the bare essentials for me to chill around, but as I ran across the world, time and space...”

“You started collecting mementos?”

“That’s right. Nobody actually knows about it, so... take it as you will.”

Amy felt very touched by that last bit. “Aww, am I the first person to ever visit your collection? That’s so kind of you!” 

She hugged Sonic just a little more tightly, closing her eyes and letting out a little tease. “But at the same time, you should’ve told your girlfriend about it earlier, boy!”

“And now you are pushing your luck.”

She didn’t see it, but Sonic blushed just a little at that comment.

After a running for a while, they reached Tails’ workshop at the Mystic Ruins, their main base. Sonic dropped Amy off at the entrance and quickly ran a lap around the place, realizing Tails wasn’t home. They entered the place from a main door located at the opposite side to where the Tornado’s hangar is, and walked through Tails’ living room. From there, upstairs was the fox’s bedroom, and downstairs was Sonic’s basement.

Sonic’s room was a cozy, well kept and well lit place. Posters of movies and advertisements were found on each wall, with only a couple of shelves holding comic books and videogames in between the myriad of colorful imagery. Behind a particularly large Chao in Space Episode VII poster was a hidden door, leading to an even smaller side-room with nothing but shelves holding all sorts of mementos from Sonic’s past adventures. The room was just big enough to fit both of them walking around with relative ease.

“Alright, here it is. Sonic’s collection.” Sonic introduced Amy with a surprisingly chill attitude, as if he secretly wanted someone to ever visit the place.

Amy was speechless. She took a moment to look around, and then started looking at a shelf on her left, completely ignoring the lonely chest sitting just at the right of the door.

“Wow, you really have everything in here!” Amy exclaimed with excitement. “Hey, that’s the bracelet from that guy... Chip was it, right?”

“Yup.”

“You know...” she reflected, “I was there for you when you spent most of your days trying to help him figure out his identity, right?”

“Well, I always stand for my friends, you know that.”

“Yet you didn’t even show up on time for our date...” Amy was still pretty dissapointed at how things turned out back then. She left the bracelet on the shelf, and then shifted her attention to a jar holding a pretty bright purple sustance in it. 

“I wonder what is this stuff... hey Sonic, what’s in the jar?”

Sonic was standing in front of a shelf on the right side of the room, seemingly looking for something in particular, but he turned around to look at what Amy was holding.

“That? It’s the weird jelly-like chemical from the Chemical Plant” He told her, then shifted his tone to a more protective one. “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you.”

“Okay.” Amy followed Sonic’s warning and returned the jar to its place, then she did a slow lap around the room. “You really have made yourself a little personal museum down here, Sonic!”

That’s when she saw the lonely chest, peaking her curiosity.

“And what’s inside this chest?”

Sonic quickly looked at her, then turned away, visibly nervous.

“Uhh, Amy, I wouldn’t open it...”

It was a little too late to convince Amy Rose of all people not to look at something that already caught her attention. She slowly unlocked the old-looking chest, and her eyes widened at the discovery of what was inside.

“Hold on a second, I recognize this stuff...” Amy picked a very well preserved rose. “Isn’t this one the first rose I gave you... way back in Little Planet?” She gasped. “Oh my gosh, it is!”

“Oh, no...” he thought, knowing his biggest secret was finally uncovered.

“And this photo...” Amy chuckled a bit, “oh, you sneaky... you never told me we had a photo entering Twinkle Park!”

He scratched the back of his head and nervously smiled. “Yeah, well... that wasn’t our greatest moment...”

She turned back to him with a big ol’ smile. “I think you never told me because it’s clearly showing YOU chasing after ME! Hee hee!”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” He sarcastically let out, then looked away, once again trying to hide his blushing.

“Oh! And here’s the letter I wrote you when you went off to that weird interstellar amusement park! ...the letter you never replied to.”

Sonic started to feel a little unconfortable with Amy looking at that chest for so long, and so he tried to shift away her attention, possibly even away from the room.

“You know, there’s other interesting stuff to see here, not just from y-you...”

“Hush. I can’t believe you actually have a chest with our memories, Sonic!” Amy kept digging, “had I known about it earlier, I would’ve sent you more stuff!”

“Ah, well, now you know about it, so...” Sonic tried to convince her again, “what do you say we get out of here now? I’m kinda starving now...”

Amy dropped everything and looked at him. “Hmm, did I hear someone asking me out for some ice cream?” She smiled. “Let’s go then!”

They both left the room and Tails’ place. On their way to the ice cream shop.  Sonic let out a sigh of relief. 

“Well, I’m glad we got out of there...”

"Why, though?” Amy curiously replied.

“Well, let’s just say some things are best left unseen.”

“Okay...” she winked at him, “that just means I’ll spend the night checking on it!”

Sonic awkwardly chuckled, as she happily leaned on his shoulder.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

[You can check more amazing prompts, oneshots and headcanons over at my Special Content section!]

[sentientencyclopedia]

Snapshots

I don’t usually post fics on here, but carpe diem and all that. This piece is for the @b99fandomevents Summer 2020 Fic Exchange. This drabble is based on requests by @sandylovesfandoms for the Peraltiago honeymoon after Holt left and waterslides/waterparks.

Jake got one whiff of the drink and wrinkled his nose. But Amy was looking at him eagerly, so he gave her a weak smile and brought the glass to his lips. For love he told himself, before chugging the orange mush.

“Bleeeurgh.” He turned around and spit it back into his cup. “That is disgusting.” He kept the glass under the table, knowing that it grossed Amy out whenever he regurgitated food. And if she actually liked this toxic sludge of a smoothie, well, he wasn’t going to deprive her of her bliss.

“It’s not that bad.” Amy looked perfectly happy as she sipped the orange drink. Jake had to admit it matched her sundress and the ribbon in her straw hat perfectly. “I think the papaya and cantaloupe perfectly balance each other out, and the coconut cream gives it a smooth texture.”

“It is disgusting.” He pulled out his phone. “But it matches your dress. Smile!”

“It’s delicious, and more importantly, it’s good for you.” Amy grinned and he snapped the pic. Oh yeah, this was definitely going into the honeymoon scrapbook. He had a sneaking suspicion Amy had planned the aesthetic, but whatever. “It’s full of antioxidants and important minerals.”

“No wonder it tastes so bad.” He grimaced.

“You can’t live on sugar and alcohol, Jake.” He took another picture as she rolled her eyes, fork dangling from her fingertips. It wasn’t scrapbook material, but it was cute.

“It’s our honeymoon. It’s supposed to be magical. We can do whatever we want.” He stole a mango slice from her plate and got up to walk back to the smoothie bar. “Two virgin pina coladas, please.”

“There’s pineapple juice at the buffet.” The bartender stared at him.

“I know. Don’t forget the little umbrellas, please and thank you!” He gave the man a beaming smile and leaned against the counter.

The man was apparently used to unreasonable requests from vacationing tourists, because he tossed a few pineapple chunks and a cup of coconut milk into the blender, set it to spin and wordlessly poured the mixture out into cocktail glasses. With little umbrellas. “Thank you!” Jake took the drinks back to their table triumphantly, pausing to grab a few of the brightly colored straws at the buffet table.

“This is also fruity and coconutty and best of all, it doesn’t taste like the mutagen that made the Ninja Turtles.” He set the drinks on the table and placed two straws in his mouth, long sides sticking out.

“Does this make me look more like a vampire or a walrus?” He asked, pointing.

“Gee, it depends. Which one has purple teeth, again?” She gave Jake a teasing smile and took a picture of him making funny faces at the camera.

“Say what you want, Ames, but this is going to make drink consumption a lot more effective.” He stuck the bottom of one straw in each glass and drank from both at the same time. “Ta-da!”

“That’s good. According to my itinerary, we have five more minutes for breakfast if we want to make it to the next event on time.”

“You’re so organized, babe.” Jake grinned at her as she showed him the binder. “How did you manage to get all these sheets laminated?”

“I convinced the people in the printing center to let me use their office laminator.” Amy’s expression mirrored his, though her smile was tinged with pride. “I figured they needed to have one on site for all the signs and menus and stuff, of course.”

“Of course. Hey, what’s this blue marker for?” He reached for the sticker only to have Amy swat his hand away.

“That’s a surprise.”

“Like a Holly Genero costume kind of surprise or an open ice cream bar kind of surprise?”

“It’s better than an ice cream bar.”

“Hate to break it to you, Ames, but there are few things better than an open ice cream bar. Especially the kind with unlimited toppings.” It turned out that when Captain Holt had extended their stay, he’d also tacked on a few perks as a sort of extended apology.

One of those perks had been access to an open ice cream bar, with unlimited toppings. Jake and Amy had spent a solid hour building and eating the Biggest Behemoth Sundae in The History of The World.

At least, that’s what they’d captioned it when they sent a picture of the monstrosity to their friends back home. It had been a towering mass seven different flavors, coated in liberal amounts of sprinkles and candy with a cookie base. It had been delicious.

Remembering that inspired Jake with new ideas. “Do you think they’ll give me ice cream for breakfast if I asked?”

“Well, they probably would, but we had ice cream last night. Don’t you want to see what I’ve got planned for today?”

“Depends. What have you got planned?”

“So, I rescheduled the sensual feeding workshop because both of us agreed that we wanted to re-do that without Holt watching.”

“I still don’t think I can make eye contact with him ever again after what happened with the avocado.”

“Oh, yeah.” They shared a moment of silence for Jake’s dignity. “But this is our chance to make new, better memories.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He took a long sip of the pineapple juice.

“Then we’ve got a couples’ ballroom class.”

“Fancy.”

“I thought it would be a nice throwback to that case we worked.”

“The one where you were in the shiny mermaid dress?”

“Precisely. In case we ever need to go undercover like that again, I thought it would be good if we actually knew how to dance. Plus,” She gave him an arch look. “I really want to see you in that waistcoat again.”

“The what-now?”

“You know, that vest-thing you wore over your button-down when you were dressed as Dewey? I watched a lot of historical documentaries as a kid and I was really into the whole men-in-fitted-waistcoats look.” She smirked. “You weren’t the only one who got an eyeful at that dance competition.”

“I’ll file that away for future consideration.” Jake whispered, imagination running wild.

“Then we have a lunch, then beach time, then just one thing before dinner.”

“The surprise, you mean.”

“Mhm. Now hurry up and finish eating. Don’t want to be late for our second impressions.”

“Ay-ay, Captain.”

They had a great time at each of the different workshops and events, but Jake couldn’t stop thinking about the blue marker. He was itching to know what it meant, what the surprise would be.

Jake Peralta was many things. Patient was rarely one of them.

So he was practically twitching with excitement by the time the blue-marker event rolled around. They were in swimsuits, so it had to be something to do with water. He hoped it wasn’t water-aerobics.

Amy grinned as she pulled Jake through the archway. “Surprise!”

“Oh. My. God.” Jake’s eyes lit up as he took in the glorious sight in front of him. “Is that a waterslide?” The pool area was practically empty, inhabited only by two lifeguards and a few straggling swimmers. But there, framed in the orange glow of the setting sun, was a very long, very twisty waterslide.

“Surprise!” Amy said again, throwing her arms out. “I made sure to pick the time where we would be mostly uninterrupted. All the families are probably at the live band sing-along thing, and all the adults without children are probably at the beach luau. Which is totally capitalist cultural appropriation, and not even geographically accurate, so I thought it would be fine if we skipped it.”

“Good idea. Where did you even find this?” Jake didn’t think he’d ever stop smiling.

“It was in the resort brochure, Jake.” Amy was rolling her eyes, but not in the tired, I’m-disappointed-by-your-immaturity way. She was rolling her eyes in the I’m-trying-to-be-cool-but-also-fishing-for-compliments way.

Jake was good at compliments. “God, I love that you read the resort brochures. That you plan itineraries with all sorts of weird fun stuff like sensual food arranging classes and cool fun stuff like waterslides. I really want to kiss you right now.”

Amy put her arms around him and they kissed. It was a quick, happy one. Both of them were so excited that it was mostly teeth. “Ooh. Can we do that couple-y thing where one of us sits on the other person’s lap and we go down together?” Jake asked.

“Yes!”

“Is it weird that I just wished Charles’ was here to take a picture of us on our way down?”

“Weirdly enough, I had the same thought.”

“We’re definitely too used to him being around.”

“Yeah.” They both went quiet for a second, thinking about it.

“Waterslide time!” Amy decided to break the silence. They held hands and very safely walked over to the ladder.