#which i need to relearn the whole course for by myself

[bread-tab]

i'm trying to get over my deep embarrassment about being So Bad At Math and let myself accept it and work on it and really think about it again—

which is hard! because every time i even bring up my struggles and/or the idea of having dyscalculia i get shut down like "no you're too smart, you can do math, you're just anxious, you're just overthinking it"

... yeah, i can do math, but i do it slowly and by shortcuts and memorization and being good with calculators and by redoing everything five times as fast as i can to catch the inevitable stupid mistakes. i can do math like the average dyslexic person can read.

i'm a cashier and i can't count people's change back to them using that subtraction(?) trick. i mess up too often.

i'm overthinking it because i keep having to relearn significant parts of multiplication and division every year or two.

—and, uh, anyway, and now that i'm thinking about it again after getting back into therapy and all that. working actively on self-acceptance. it just hit me that the number i have the most trouble with is 1.

like of course i didn't want to admit that. one. one! can you even explain to me what one is? probably not! it's too obvious! it's intuitive, right?

well. not for me.

1 is actually a very abstract number. when you're looking at stuff in the real world—counting beans, slicing pies, whatever—you're actually arbitrarily grouping billions of atoms and molecules into a "single" object. you're one person, but you're also trillions of cells.

i do fine with the real world, but not so well with abstract quantities. my intuition is concrete. in the real world you can't multiply things. that would violate the conservation of mass. you just move things around (or compare them to each other). and practically speaking you're always moving around lumps of stuff and an atom or a crumb here or there doesn't matter. 100 vs 99 is not a big deal. 1 vs 2 is. (sometimes i get very upset about fractions.)

i can't hold the idea of "one" as a pure quantity in my mind very well. i think of everything as a set. (i was very happy to encounter set theory in middle school. genuinely ecstatic.) i have to visualize 1 as something tangible, give it a shape. a dot. a circle. a square. the problem is, 1 is really small. either i'm picturing it as something big enough to have other stuff in it—too big—or as basically an empty set, which ends up resulting in a lot of errors because i treat it like 0.

i can think it more easily in binary sometimes—explicitly distinguishing between 1 and 0!—but that means a lot of repetition which i can't keep track of well enough for regular arithmetic. the repetition is worse for my working memory.

idk, it's late and i'm rambling. it's just. this is a disability i have. it's on my mind because i've been struggling really badly with time management and today i really realized that a big part of that is because time management involves constantly doing math. i get to see my little arithmetic mistakes add up to cascading problems in real time.

what's a little 1 misplaced here or there? whoops, that 1 was an hour. 15 minutes is basically the same as 20. oh but 20 is about the same as 30. is there really a big difference between half an hour and an hour? well, i have 60 whole minutes, might as well waste 5. 45 minutes is almost an hour.

15 minutes late is "you no-call no-showed your appointment." 10 minutes late is "your timecard is looking bad. you're on your first warning, after your third one you're getting fired." 5 minutes late is a "tardy," and i've never had a clean attendance record.

it's past 3 a.m. i need to get up at 11. will i get 8 hours of sleep?

do i ever?

this is not a very kind world in which to struggle with simple math.

#dyscalculia #don't get me started on what it's like to manage money #at least you can't go into time debt #long post #venting #i guess #ableism

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Umbaran Pathogen - Day 24: Hunted Down

Summary: Kix and Twitch make an extremely upsetting discovery, but also find out that there is a way to safely deal with the parasites. They just have to set a trap to ensnare some very big prey without getting caught in the act...

Warning: N/A

Twitch belongs to @gaeasun Pitch belongs to @lost-on-kamino

Here's what Tup and Dogma currently look like!

Prev / Next

[In which the events on Umbara are worsened by an unknown pathogen taking hold of both the 501st and 212th. These series of drabbles will follow a non-linear timeline based on the AI-less Whumptober prompt list for 2023.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Even though Kix could see that the kid was just about ready to collapse from pure exhaustion, Twitch surprised him by keeping up with the group on their way down to the basement.

It was a remarkable feat of resilience on the rookie's part, considering he was walking with a limp and barely keeping his head up. It was also a show of pure stubbornness, since Twitch obviously refused to not see this whole mess through to the end.

Despite being in such rough shape.

They had begun the journey downwards once Coric had been brought out of shock and tended to. The older medic having had to endure an excruciating amount of pain, as Kix and Twitch had both done their best to clean the horrific wound on his shoulder. Only after the injury was clean enough and tightly bandaged, was he anywhere near ready to make the trek down the hatch, and along the corridor that led to the basement's separate lift system.

The CMO was, of course, lagging behind while visibly staggering with each step. Rex keeping a close eye on his fellow veteran trooper while he stood nearest to Sponge, who'd since woken up confused and heavily concussed. But at least both were on their feet. Unlike Pitch who, even though he was no longer paralyzed by Dogma's venom, was unable to walk at all due to the sizeable hole in his thigh.

It was very likely he'd need some extensive physio-therapy to regain use of the leg, once he'd healed enough to put any weight on it. That is, if he did not need to completely relearn how to walk... The vein Dogma had hit had been a direct pathway to the heart, and was thusly incredibly sensitive to damage. They couldn't be sure he hadn't been crippled for life. Not without their scanners at hand, and they couldn't stop to go a few floors above to search for any.

They were thusly short three medics in the end. Two of which needed supervision while they walked because they were so unsteady on their feet, and the third who was dependent of Fives carrying him to get anywhere at all.

It honestly made sense why Twitch felt the need to push himself to help. Even if it made Kix's heart twinge with both pain and guilt. But, as much as he would like it for his kih'vod to rest, they couldn't spare the amount of time he'd need.

They had already waited too long...

"How deep did they think they needed this basement to be?" Fives grumbled as they settled in the lift for the long way down, finding at least one tiny mercy in the form of built-in seating.

"Deep enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention." Rex shrugged, letting both Coric and Sponge lean against his shoulders as they sat down. "At least there's no obnoxious music..."

"Thank goodness for the littlest of kindnesses, am I right?" Fives snorted, leaning his head back against the lift's paneled walls. Eyes closing as he tried to relax. "If I hear that stupid soap commercial's jingle any sooner than I have to, I'll kill everyone in this lift and then myself..."

"Which one? The Nabooian beaches one with all the bikini babes, or the one about Jakku's beautiful white sands and guided luggabeast tours?" Rex asked sarcastically.

"Doesn't matter." Fives huffed in response. "Both should be classified as psychological torture..."

The banter was comforting in a way. Almost normal, in the face of such stressful events like the ones that had transpired not even a a full hour ago. It made Kix feel a little more like himself (a little more human), just hearing his brothers attempt some idle chatter.

Stars only knew they all needed the brief respite...

He noticed that Twitch was running his fingers through his messy hair, wincing anytime they got caught in the clumps that had gotten stuck together with dry blood.

Before they'd left the lobby he had asked for Kix's canteen so that he could clean his face with some water, despite it being so cold that it might be dangerous to do so. But Kix hadn't denied him that chance.

Not when Twitch had looked so stressed out.

He looked a little better, now that his face wasn't covered in blood. But he was still shaky and very clearly tired. Yet that determined little spark didn't leave his eyes. He would rest only when this was all done and dealt with, Kix could tell.

Twitch wanted to help put an end to all this misery and terror.

"Lift's starting to slow..." The Captain calmly pointed out. "We're almost there."

"Yeah... Just hope we get what he came here for." Fives sighed, running a hand over his face and trying to shake himself out of the sudden bout of apprehension. "What am I saying? Of course we will. We didn't come this far for nothing."

Sometimes Kix really envied Fives's confidence. Even if it made him a bit of a hopeless dreamer. But then again, if all of them were realists then morale would have tanked long ago...

Eventually the lift did come to a stop, the doors opening up to reveal a slightly less frigid room full of server towers and shelves stacked to the very top with equipment. As well as all kinds of high powered fans and liquid nitrogen tanks. Likely the cooling systems keeping everything from overheating.

On first glance, they could immediately tell the entire place was a maze where one could easily get lost in. Lucky for them they had a map. One which easily led them all the way to the main console.

Twitch immediately settled next to Kix, taking up one of two available chairs and beginning to search up the terms they needed. Behind them Rex and Fives both focused on the three injured medics, keeping them tightly wrapped up in their blankets and letting them rest for the moment.

Kix had to make sure Twitch's own blankets stayed on while the younger medic tapped away furiously on the console. His eyes darting from one line of information to the next, as he concentrated on his task.

"How's it looking over there?" Fives asked, which earned him a slightly frustrated growl from their kih'vod.

"Working on it... I'm running a translator while I search." Twitch pointed out. "Even with all the extra memory and cooling systems, this entire setup is slower than our old datapads..."

"I'm not surprised. The databanks are extensive..." Kix hummed in thought as he watched the screens. What he couldn't do if he had all this medical knowledge at the tip of his fingertips. Just one search away from the perfect treatment plan, instead of having to guess based on basic modules he'd studied ages ago...

"Got it!" Twitch exclaimed, looking relieved as he finally found what he'd been looking for. Then, after a few minutes of reading through, the little smile he'd had on his face began to drop.

"...You good kid?" Fives asked.

Scrolling back up, Twitch reread what was on the screen. Kix did the same, a pit forming in his stomach as he began to process what he was reading. A horrid realization dawning on him.

"....The changes are permanent..." He whispered to himself, but the ARC must have heard him all the same.

"Kix?"

"There's no way to cure them... The changes are permanent." The medic hid his face in his hands and let out a muffled scream of frustration. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, not when the parasites had essentially rewritten their vode's DNA in such a drastic manner...

The moment they left orbit with any of their transformed brothers in the state that they were now, they were as good as dead. The natborns would send them away, back to Kamino, to be dissected or worse...

They'd been foolish to hope for anything less.

"So they're stuck like this forever? Acting like... Like monsters?!" Fives was clearly upset by the news. So were Rex, Coric, Sponge and Pitch who looked as equally distraught.

"Not necessarily..." Twitch responded. "Their bodies are altered beyond repair... But there's a way to at least get rid of the parasites that are controlling them."

He scrolled back down, pointing to the only treatment plan available for the Umber Blight. Reading through it, Kix's anxieties did not lessen in the slightest. It was incredibly risky.

"We have the equipment we need here." Twitch continued. "We just need... We just need to find a way to get one of them in here to make sure it works on them..."

"What do you mean IF it works? I thought you just said there was a way to do it?" Rex frowned, looking towards Twitch with both confusion and concern.

"It's only been done on Umbarans, sir." The younger medic explained, bringing up several images to further make his point clear. "The alterations done to them are similar to what we saw with Tup and Dogma. But, because we are biologically not the same, there's clearly some key differences..."

"Which means re-calibrating the operation theater and all the equipment to the right specs..." Coric groaned loudly, understanding the risks. "We need one of them to try it out on, and there's no guarantee we'll get it right..."

"....So there's a risk we could kill them with this procedure?" Fives asked, sounding incredibly disturbed by that prospect.

The silence that followed more than answered his question...

-

Tup had fallen asleep which had helped to further relax Dogma. Despite his failure as a Drone, the current injuries that made him useless to his Hive-Leader and Hive, he'd been forgiven and held closely. Shown mercy he did not deserve because he was a bad Drone and a bad brother.

It warmed his heart.

Made him feel all nice and fuzzy knowing that Tup wasn't angry about his obvious deficiencies as a servant. Maybe he'd done enough in the beginning to prove his worth? Maybe he could still make amends...

But the question was how.

Looking at his sleeping Hive-Leader, Dogma couldn't help but let his antennae droop slightly. He needed to make it right, to show Tup that he could do this. That he could get him those monsters that had dared to attack them. Starting with the fluffy haired one. The one who'd bitten his Hive-Leader and caused him such terrible pain, that it had knocked him out of the sky.

He just needed a chance!

The door to the medical facility opened. Perking up, Dogma looked towards it in surprise before looking back down at his sleeping brother. Tup was so deep in slumber that he hadn't noticed the change at all. And Dogma wouldn't dare disturb his Hive-Leader's much needed rest. Not when he too had a healing wound.

A thought crossed his mind which got the Drone to slowly wiggle his way out from his brother's side. Careful so as to not wake him. So as to not ruin the surprise he had in store for him. He'd ambush the pests all by his lonesome, sting them before they knew what hit them, and drag them all to his Hive-Leader wrapped up in a silken bow.

He'd make Tup proud of him! Make him happy! That's all Dogma really wanted! What he most craved.

With this all-consuming desire to serve and to please ignited and fueling him, Dogma sneaked forward. Keeping an eye on the medical facility's open doors. His antennae twitched as he took in the scents of sterile cleanliness and clone alike.

He was being careful so as to go unnoticed. They'd picked a spot where they remained hidden while still being able to carefully watch the hospital for movement. So far he hadn't seen anyone come out, but surely they must be near the doors to set off the automated opening system...

That said, the closer Dogma got the less sure he felt. He couldn't see anyone... Which made no sense. If no one was near the doorway, then why had the doors opened?

Something didn't feel right...

Getting as close as he could before the crippling cold that billowed out of the building made it near impossible to do so, the Drone squinted inside at the well lit lobby. It was completely empty... Taking a deep breath and sticking his head inside, he found that his targets weren't hiding by the threshold either.

What he did see was a damaged panel with sparking wires.

It clicked too late what this actually was. So late in fact that he never even saw the attack coming, nor did he have the time to cry out for help. All that really registered was hands pinning his limbs down, including his injured wings which hurt like hell at the contact. Then something sharp piercing the side of his neck in a gap between armored scales.

And then Dogma knew nothing...

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #whumptober #Umbaran Pathogen AU #clone medic kix #clone medic coric #captain rex #arc trooper fives #clone trooper dogma #clone ocs #clone medic twitch #clone medic pitch #clone medic sponge

[safety-net-did]

I can't remember if I've posted about it before, but I'm thinking about it again today.

I'm currently 30 years old.

I've been treated for mental illness since I was 15, for symptoms that started being a problem when I was about 10, which as far as I can tell are reactions to things I've had all my life (autism) and things that happened to me so young as to effect my entire life (trauma causing DID).

It wasn't until I was about 24 that I was told DID was a possibility for me, and honestly I don't think I actually started healing in any real way until I fully accepted that my family of origin traumatized me. (around 26)

Sure, I knew I had trauma. The other traumas were much more distinct though, much more jarring, much more obvious problems. Ones that I've dealt with a lot better because I could see their obvious effects.

But the developmental trauma of the way I was raised was so insidious, I never really recognized it. And recognizing it is what lead to getting treatment for DID, so it's all tied together for me.

Using those ages as data, I basically spent 26 years getting worse or just holding on. A lot of that time was spent on plateaus, and learning symptom management, getting lots of base skills that I needed. But the real turning point toward healing didn't happen until about 4-6 years ago.

That is to say, I didn't start relearning how to be a person until ~5 years ago.

How can expect myself to preform on the level that a 30 year old is "supposed" to preform at, when I only have 5 years of growth towards being a healthy person?

Even if we count the other other years at half-value (because I learned both useful and harmful behaviours/thought patterns/etc.), that still only makes me functionally 17 years old.

I don't know a single 5 or 17 year old who has their whole life together the way I wish I did. I don't know of any who have the level of emotional management I think I should have.

I know I'm not actually mentally those ages, don't get me wrong.

But it helps me when I'm doing the bad comparison with others thing to think about it this way.

I'm still a child, as far as a lot of healthy mindset, communication, self-reflection, etc. skills are concerned. It helps me not get mad at the young child in my brain for behaving in ways I don't like.

How would I ask a five year old to resolve a conflict? What is the healthy way of teaching kids about their emotions?

I've had, functionally, five years of learning to be kind to myself. At most I'm socially developed to that of a teenager. Of course I'm not great at it yet.

But I'll get there.

#diary; self #long post #trauma

[sevilemar]

Snake sec getting stuck: a dilemma?

Hi! In case this post is not appropriate, please ignore this.

I am frustrated. Thing is, I'm looking for a way to go to Canada. And I don't know which path to choose. I have a feeling the 'one' is not here yet but I'm pressured for time and I want to go somehow. Thing is, wherever I look there is no opportunity for me to hop on at all.

It's not like I'm picky about jobs. No, I can do EVERYTHING but the thing is too much information bashes in my face that I don't know what to pick. I need time to sort through it so I can formulate plans. But my double Lion aunt just ... well, "I found this, oh and this too. Can you do it? No? Oh, you won't go I can tell, it's impossible and ..." (And she went on like this for a whole hour) I hope that illustrate the situation I'm in. 

I can do every job so long as it gets me to Canada, then I will find a way to make my dream comes true, but the thing is I feel like every job will close the door at me. All of them demand 2 years + experience. Or a diploma in some degree that I obviously don't have. I learned somewhere that in the west, they use algorithm to sort to Resume, so if my degree doesn't fit, it'll never, ever be considered. Application through websites (linkedin and Indeed.ca) basically just don't work.

I have an idea that might just work. Since I can't go the Lion (my aunt) or Bird (my mother and stepfather) way then I have to do it snake style. I tried quiet everything around me and focused on what I want to see happen (which is landing myself in good job in Canada. Preferably in Nova Scotia, BC and Manitoba, a business near the sea.)

I will do it by reverse engineer it from the inside until I get it. It sounds ridiculous to my bird and lion model but it makes sense. My strength isn't in planning or blazing through obstacles. It is to use trickery and cunning. If I can't do it direct way (go through normal job application process) then I will use the indirect method. I will go to reddit or tumblr and other platforms. Then I will find key persons. Be their friends and let them guide me toward that goal.

It's not manipulation though, I just want to make friends with locals to find opportunities otherwise hidden from people like me. Since locals know how it is in their area, which job is in demand, maybe their neighbors/siblings have a company but not explicitly posting on job platforms. Things like that will be hidden forever but not if I can reverse engineer it and work on it from the inside. Within two years (or rather, a year and 9-10 months) I will get that job I need. The only thing is to get past my social anxiety and make friends which is genuinely hard. I will have to relearn social skills, erg.....

It's going to be really tough and tricky to execute. But I choose to throw all my apples on this wagon. I know it'll bring me the ultimate price.

Have you ever been in this situation? How did you get past it?

Thanks again for listening to my rant here, but if you prefer to not answer it then it's ok too. Thanks a bunch!

---

It always takes me a bit to answer bigger submissions, so I'm sorry if I am too late for your urgency.

Bloody hell, your aunt sounds so exhausting, mate. I think I would try to get away from her first if at all possible, don't mind Canada. But then I always am in favour of the small steps approach, I can't help it. But you very much sound like you do not have patience for small steps 😉.

I have no idea if finding key people and befriending them on the internet will work, but it's worth a try, of course. Maybe the businesses you would like to work at have employee rosters on their web pages? Sometimes there are even job offers posted there, or you can just send them your application and ask if they have a job for you. Sometimes, that can work, too. What requirements do you even need for working and living in Canada? I never thought about it^^

Maybe finding a god internship in your country in the mean time will help with the experience gap? I don't know if there are companies of international renown in your chosen field in your country? And if you already did internships, that counts as experience as well. And depending on what you're looking for, the experience requirement might not be a 100% hard one.

I'm also probably the last person you want to go for advice about these things, it's really not my area of expertise. I am the most unambitious person I know. All I want out of a job is making enough money to live a good life, and not having to stress about it. But I'm always here to cheer you on and be a snake sec influence if you need it. Have at it, mate! 👍

#submission #sortinghatchats #ask answers #snake secondary

[musingsoflys]

A Vent, caregiver fatigue

Lately I've been feeling like I live in a care facility, and I'm the only employee. This is my primary job despite the fact that I'm the one with *the* job that pays the bills and requires me to put time into it, during regular business hours, I can't just do my work whenever. I wish I could. The patients are capable of minimal self care; one gets left out a lot b/c the other two need so much in-person attention, but that attention can't be shared with anyone else at the same time. Clingy. Last night I had to sit in my older child's room, so she could focus on her homework that was due in 2 hours. (3 assignments. It got done. Yay!) Every time I leave her room with an armload of dirty dishes and have to use my foot to pull her door closed behind me, I remember that scene in Disney's Cinderella when she does the same thing, only I'm human and tired of it. In the middle of that, my younger child needed to get things ready for school tomorrow but is apparently constantly on the verge of having a breakdown. The prospect of trying to plan anything for the next day nearly caused her to curl up into a ball like an armadillo. She is very behind on the majority of her schoolwork, and it's only getting worse, which, of course, only adds to the stress. Vicious circle. And my husband is lonely and getting depressed again. He and his therapist keep missing each other or having to reschedule. He finally called his endocrinologist for more T (he's been out for months) and an appointment. Guess when the next available appointment was? March. March 2023. Fortunately he doesn't have to wait that long for meds. Even just now, I'm supposed to be teleworking. I had just sat down to do this little dump when he called me from upstairs to go scratch his back b/c he's in so much pain that he can't sleep. No one knows why he has so much pain; it seems to be nerves. He's got strong pain relievers and has had multiple nerve ablating procedures. I think he should give a pain psychologist a shot. It would make sense to me that, over time, his nervous system has learned this pain behavior and needs to relearn that there's no need for all this pain. There's no life threat. His neck and shoulders are also ridiculously tight; regular, frequent massage and learning how to relax those muscles would be helpful, no doubt. And I'm trying to figure out my personal development/journey (faith, sexuality, re-finding myself, discovering me, discovering god). Lately I've been stagnant. It's so easy to get busy with ... anything: dishes, laundry, TV, Facebook & Instagram. I would like to get out of my church weeknight youth commitment, but the other leaders keep leaving (for extremely valid reasons), but I don't want to put the girls through a sudden complete leadership change. It's hard to keep my foot in the door that way while also feeling rather icky about church as a whole. We have a good congregation, and sometimes I miss it, and it feels awkward being there. Very liminal. That's the word, still, yes. Liminal, like a hallway, not in any of the rooms, not having a place, just hanging out in the hallway. And I'm 50 now. It's very weird. Especially as once again I'm around significantly younger peers (same grade/responsibility level). I'm glad I had my last boss who loved being in her 50s, was proud of it, but it's weird and challenging for me.

#CareGiverFatigue #Venting #BrainDump

[ticklystuff]

hewwo long rant about my co-worker aldnskdnsm

Okay, so I have two co-workers. One is older than me (about my mother’s age) and the other is a couple years younger than me and she’s my best friend at work. The older one is really insecure for some reason and idk why and it’s really fucking annoying

A couple of weeks ago, my manager told me she’d like me to learn how to use this machine and I was like yeah sure. A few days later, my older co-worker wanted to meet with me some time to talk about some stuff and I told her I can’t meet with her on the day she wanted because I have training with the machine that same day. She was like “How’d you get training for that machine?” and I told her that our manager just asked me to learn it and she was like “Why??” like ma’am idk why our manager just told me to do it why don’t you ask her instead alsnwksmsm

And then apparently she was complaining about it to my other co-worker and was like “Why would she choose him??” and idk why she would tell my younger co-worker because we’re besties at work so of course she’s gonna tell me when someone’s talking shit lmaooo

For our main project, we work with poop and sometimes we need to extract the poop. Extraction is a lengthy process with a bunch of steps and it’s easy to forget if you haven’t done it in a while. I know the process off the top of my head but my co-workers have forgotten, so I invited them to run an extraction with me on Friday so they can relearn the process. Initially, I told them we can weigh out the poop on Thursday, so that we don’t have to waste time on the weighing step on Friday. However, we need machines for extraction and these machines are shared by everyone else in the company, so there’s a sign-up time sheet and I could only get the machines from 1-5 on Friday. Since we’re going to be working with the machines later in the day, I told them we can just weigh out the poop Friday morning instead of Thursday. We have a meeting from 7:30-9 on Friday too and my older co-worker was like “Oh I won’t be able to make it early Friday morning” and I told her that’s fine and that I can just weigh out the poop when I get there at 10:30 nbd. For some reason, my co-worker didn’t like that I volunteered to scoop the poop myself and was like “uhhhhh remember this is a team effort” and I was like ??????? why exactly would you need a team to weigh out poop?? We’re weighing out 9g of poop on one scale you don’t need teamwork for that lmaoooo I didn’t even say anything to that and my friend was just rolling her eyes the whole time

My co-worker friend and I were hanging out after work today and she invited her older cousin. Her cousin works at the same company as us and she’s been there almost a decade. I didn’t really know her until two weeks ago when I had to help her with something, but she sits behind my older co-worker and sometimes they talk and apparently my older co-worker was lowkey complaining about me when I got promoted and she was saying stuff like “he hasn’t been here that long” and “oh I think he’s a bit young” which is a dumb thing to say because my friend’s cousin is only a couple years older than me and we have the same position lmao idk I think she’s insecure that we share the same position and I think she thinks in her head that we’re like competing or something?? Idk it’s work not a competition and like idc who does what as long as the work gets done and I’m just trying to do my job sigh

[dredshirtroberts]

I have a few minutes and some thoughts and i might as well put them out into the universe and see where it gets me

I'm relearning how to be a people, which i think i've said already on here. It's still true, btw.

Actually I'm relearning how to be several people but that's a conversation for another time perhaps.

I've found comfort in a lack of definition. Much like my over-sized sweatshirt, I like not needing to be perceived on a metaphysical level as much as I enjoy not being perceived on a physical level.

[img ID: a gif of Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride saying "Let me explain... No, there is too much. Let me sum up"]

I lived by labels for a very long time. I also wore clothes that fit tight to my skin, exposed a lot of my skin for comfort reasons as well as desire reasons. I liked being seen because I felt invisible. I liked being placed into a box because I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. I wanted people to look at me and think I was the most fuckable in the supermarket (despite being under 18 for a large portion of the time i was doing this).

This conflicted with my self image a lot. Despite being a perfectly fine weight and shape my whole life, I was convinced very early on (when i was at my smallest even) that i was unattractive because i was too heavy. This is something I am still unpacking and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings on the subject of my body in this regard. This is not the time for that.

I wanted to be Shaped. I wanted to Exist Specifically. As in I wanted to be something specific so that I could point to it for people and go "here! this is me! this is what i am! please see me!" I tried on many boxes - sometimes they were ones that fit me, sometimes they were ones i tried to fit myself into. Some worked. Some didn't. Some have stuck around and I keep for nostalgia's sake. Some I still wear from time to time as it suits me, or as I need to.

But life isn't box-shaped. It's not neat and tidy, there is no clear delineation between colors. How do you know which is green-yellow and which is yellow-green - when does one become the other exactly? Point to it on the gradient, please.

(I can use that analogy because I can see more colors than most according to online tests and I can't find the point of change) (jokes but also)

The fact that I am not just me but many factors into these feelings, of course. I have a nebulous grasp of gender on the best days - whose gender, is it accurate? are we feeling it now Mr. Krabbs? What does it mean to feel like a man, like a woman, like a girl, like a boy, like something outside of that, like none of the above, anyway? Why does it matter?

Am I autistic? ADHD? Struggling with C-PTSD from my childhood trauma? Depressed? Anxious? Are they symptoms or are they diagnoses? Does Bruno Mars is gay?

Why does it matter?

I mean for me specifically, for other people your answers might vary. And in some cases maybe I need the labels still - for accommodation, for pointing to what is going on with me so I can work on it and fix it, for existing in the world outside of the apartment, for dealing with family or friends who i'm not that close to yet.

But why do I need them? I'm not using them outside of those cases - perhaps having a set that fits best would help in a couple of those scenarios but which ones? and why? and fitting best only goes so far - what if i've picked inaccurately and it still chafes? Do I go to a cobbler to fix my shoes i got from walmart? No, I just wear them until they're shaped around my foot or i give them away and say "maybe not for me". With a little time and sitting in the zone maybe i'll make the box fit me, reworking the definitions and shoving the parts i don't care for out of the way.

Am I bisexual? Pan? does it matter? I like everyone regardless. I prefer one flag over the other because I like the colors better. Am I aromantic? Maybe! How about a good vague label - they've got lots thankfully. So do the Aces because how can I tell something that no one will explain in detail what i'm supposed to "just know" according to them. I can't "just know" anything - that's not actually how my brain works.

If you can't describe it, I can't tell you whether or not I feel it because lord help me if I can know how I feel about anything.

What is anger if not sadness made fire? What is grief if not love without a home? What is gender if not a box I need to settle into and see if it fits around me, like a cheap sneaker?

Maybe much like the rest of my wardrobe, most of these boxes are second-hand, given to me by others that I've made my own because I didn't know where to find my own. And perhaps the right boxes are out there somewhere, or maybe I'll just finally pull out my sewing machine and start making my own clothes and my own boxes to fit into.

I contain multitudes and perhaps I'm not meant for any single box. perhaps i am meant for many. Perhaps I am meant for none. who can say.

Anyway I'm trying on They/Them pronouns. Feels like it'll fit better maybe.

#wanna see how much i can write to let you know about a pronoun change? #click read more

[routledge-reader-reflections]

Module 08 Chapter 22: The Rituals of Health by Amelia María de la Luz Montes

In the beginning of this chapter, the author opens with a poem by Berenice Dimas. The poem goes as such…

I was a curandera before birth

And I am a curandera now

Channeling generational trauma

Listening to its voice

Feeling its pain

Helping my mother heal

Helping myself heal

Remembering

That our bodies are not disposable

That our existence is hope

That we are worth living

That we have something valuable

To share with the world

That we need to heal

For our next seven generations

The author incorporates this poem not only to explore poetry as a means of healing, but also to note how the author of the poem “merges ideas of political, cultural, sexual, and personal history into her ritual of healing”. Before reading this chapter, I had not thought of healing practices as something that could be seen or utilized as a form of creative expression. I believe I thought this because of the westernized way in which I think about healing practices. When I think of healing, I think of individualistic self help books  that I can find on a shelf in Barnes-n-Nobles. The use of the language “we” and “our” helped me to break down these notions as well as helped me in understanding the communal aspect of healing practices- especially when breaking down generational trauma.  Furthermore, the author explores the author of the poem as a Chicana and Latina healer who is “taking healing practices to a whole new level of meaning and visibility” (Montes 256).

Montes also discusses the ways in which Berenice “believes in the reclamation of ancestral and indigenous healing practices” (Montes 257). I found this description important because of the ways in which Western culture is once again so set on their forms of healing and medicine while indigenous forms of healing are often overlooked. When I think of healing, I think of a prescription from the doctors office and a brief and often cold doctor's appointment. Berenices ideas of healing are revolutionary for me because of the ways in which she believes in healing as an everyday ritual rather than something that happens while we wait for a physical effect to happen in our bodies such as sickness. Healing is always happening- even if we cannot see it. Moreover, I found this concept of relearning to be something common for people living in America. Westernized ideologies have created a sort of vacuum of what is a right way to do something, I found that this chapter challenged these ideas.

In an Ethnic Studies course I took last year, we did mindfulness and healing practices almost every single class period. One truth rang true in every single one of these practices, that we were connecting our minds to our physical bodies and attempting to understand where we were and what we may need to heal based on the responses our bodies gave to particular practices. This experience came full circle to me as I was working through the reading and understanding the way in which healing is connected to the body and the power of our relationships to our changing bodies. The author quotes Gloria Anzaldúa, “Our mind, our flesh, our energy system are all connected. What people think affects the body, and the body’s physiology depends on how people think” (Montes 260). She then goes on to mention the idea of being a participant in one's own healing journey, which I believe to be one of the main points of this reading. I found myself connecting this reading to the ideas of reclaiming one's own identity in the other readings and while coming into the identity and the body being claimed, people can begin to heal themselves.

[selfconsumerofmywoes]

Why do I have the ability to ignore all of my obligations all day as I laze around doing nothing, only to start panicking about not doing them at 12am when I’m too exhausted to do anything about them

#i have 3 days before everything needs to be done for #this week ive done no revision and not even my homework #i need to get my head out of my arse #i have all of my GCSEs starting in at the end of april #including my resit #from last year #which i need to relearn the whole course for by myself #im strating to freak out as im typing this #theres soooo many papers/exams for each class #i have 4 seperate parts in a language i dont even know #(also one of these parts include watching and referring to a video #i couldnt even do that in english #i cant process words fast enough #so pray for my partner in that—we have to do that one in groups) #im going to cry #tomorrow ill start work properly #revision was going so well for like 2 weeks there #but that was a month ago and ive done nothing since #need to het back on track #ignore me #im just feaking out #why the hell am i sigining up for this but harder next year #i should just leave whilst i can and get a job

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Try to have fun, his ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

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

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

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

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

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

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

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

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

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

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N L/N.

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“SHIT! Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

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

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

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

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

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

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

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

x x x x x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bangtan #bts fanfic #no more smut for 2020......... NO MORE #next fic is angst idc anymore I NEED TO CLEANSE MYSELF AHHHHHH

[kamadevva]

analysis/interpretation on the ending scene of ōoku

I wanted to get my thoughts out about FGO event Ōoku now that the event is over, I’ve got no idea how Tumblr algorithm works but hopefully someone sees this and adds their own thoughts since I’d love to have discussion on this since I’ve got MANY words about this event tbh.

The main scene I wanted to go over was the ending at least, with the small discussion Kama and Kiara have with one another— to preface this, I sort of wanted to acknowledge for a fact Ōoku is NOT without flaw and is a pretty poorly written event in certain aspects, and I 100% understand why people are frustrated about how cruel this event treats Kama!! To be honest, I think the reason why I interpret the ending scene the way I do is a desperate attempt to give myself some closure over giving Kama some healing, but I wanted to see if anyone agreed first.

Anyways, about the scene itself: when reading through the ending, I personally thought Kiara’s send-off, although obviously still some form of “punishment” and “karmic retribution” was actually motivated by a small, good-intended desire to give Kama a chance of healing at Chaldea.

I sort of wanted to point out this scene in particular, which struck me differently compared to the reactions of other characters:

As observed by other people, I think it’s pretty sucky that most other characters basically congratulated Parvati for forcing a second traumatic experience onto Kama and barely turned an eye to how cruel the usage of her Noble Phantasm actually was (I’m aware Kama needed to be taken down sooner or later since, had their plan succeeded after all, they would’ve never gotten the chance to properly heal, but I still think it’s unnecessarily cruel to throw a second painful incineration specifically led by one of the main sources of their trauma in the first place).

But there is one character who DOES point out their concern for Kama’s fate, and that’s Sessyoin Kiara herself.

Kiara, with no doubt, is a wicked woman with flawed morals— she herself makes it a point to state this and does confirm this is her own way of giving Kama “punishment”.

And yet, what strikes me as important is that Kiara is the only character to point out that Kama had brought their fate on themself— she is, as far as I’m concerned, the only character to observe their motives and morals in its truest form and vaguely attempt to connect and empathize with such a mindset. Kiara also seems to be the only one to pick up on how Kama has a burning hatred for themself in this scene, while other characters of Ōoku tend to pass Kama off as arrogant, egoistical, and haughty.

In a way, I personally believe Kiara noticing the depth behind Kama’s personality and motives is already an act that no other characters of Ōoku provide for (especially Parvati, like wtf?). It reads as a vague attempt of both sympathy and empathy to give Kama a chance to be heard, and even if it is coupled with Kiara’s narcissistic and rather sadistic behavior, I do believe Kiara made nonetheless a small attempt to give Kama a sense of understanding. There even seems to be a vague hint of concern (Kiara later states “Even I would not go that far” regarding the incineration) towards Kama’s self-destructive behavior. Given Kiara’s masochistic tendencies, I only think that line is further important that she full-on admits Kama’s self-hatred actually surpasses her own limits for self-preservation.

Kiara herself actually points out Kama, in the end, has a rather pure and benevolent soul, stating:

While this could be read as Kiara attempting to mock Kama, especially given their angry reaction after— I like to believe that deep down inside, Kiara genuinely did acknowledge the tragedy of Kama’s situation. I once again want to reiterate the fact that scarcely any other character in Ōoku offers this sympathy, and Kiara is, once more, the only person to attempt to describe and observe Kama as an empathetic victim who was mistreated cruelly all throughout.

Then, once Kiara begins the process of assimilating Kama into the servant summoning system:

Punishment or not, Chaldea is exactly an environment Kama needs to heal, and I believe Kiara herself is aware of that— of course, I don’t believe Kiara was doing this out of the goodness of her heart, but there seems to be a hint of genuine concern for Kama behind the statement of redemption and “remaining misunderstood forever”.

Without Kiara sending Kama to Chaldea, it’s possible the tired god of love may have never been able to find peace and healing— more than likely, it feels as if Kama had fully intended to drift in their universe without end, seeing themselves as nothing more than a “loser” with a pathetic personality.

Described by their bond lines, and later their interlude, the type of people Kama needs to heal is found in Ritsuka— they need someone to (metaphorically) “teach” them love, for even if they’re aware of everything about it, they have long forgotten the positive, simple, and wholesome experiences associated with love. They’re aware of its existence, just as they’re aware of the love they held for Rati and Vasanta— but no longer feel any emotional connection or feeling to love in its purest form, and that is where characters like Ritsuka come into play. Chaldea is a place where Kama can “relearn” these experiences once more, and begin their path of healing— and I genuinely believe Kiara was fully aware of this while sending Kama to Chaldea.

Would also like to point out that one of the main motifs of this event was the whole lesson behind Kasuga’s definition of love— rather than endless depravity that spoils people rotten and, as a result, condones evil and sin, love is instead found through a sense of nurturing and guidance— an act of supporting and helping a person grow without necessarily keeping shackles on their development.

Kiara’s actions here seems to be vaguely reminiscent of the love Kasuga feels for the Ōoku and the shoguns— even if she does not presently state this, she similarly desires to reach an understanding with Kama and send them on this path of healing and development. For a woman that ultimately can only love herself, I think it is still important for both of their characters that Kiara was nonetheless capable of hinting, at the very least, empathy for Kama and a desire to give them healing closure no other character in Ōoku attempts to provide.

Again, I don’t deny that Kiara did not have the purest intentions by toying with Kama at the end, and I still believe Ōoku is poorly written in this regard of unnecessarily torturing a trauma victim— but, just as Kama was built by tragedy, Kiara underwent similar— even if Kiara herself is presently aware there is no longer “good” in her and she is no longer the holy woman she once was, Kiara still nonetheless desires for good to exist— just not specifically from herself, and linking Kama with Ritsuka was an example of her trying to keep the existence of good morals. This, to me, also felt like a conclusion to Kiara’s whole practice of self-restraint throughout the event— she wants to “guide” Ritsuka into development and eventually take her down, secretly motivating for them to abstain from her, even if she still nonetheless desires to be the one to corrupt them in the end.

I’ve got a big handful of other thoughts on this event (especially as a huge Kama fan), but that’s all I’ll touch on here, since I really wanted to share at least my interpretation of the ending scene and what it meant to both Kama and Kiara. I also really want to discuss this with others, so please feel free to add on! If you don’t agree with any of this, that’s fine too, but I’d still love to hear people’s thoughts nonetheless.

#fate grand order #fgo #kama #sessyoin kiara #sesshouin kiara #kiara sessyoin #kamadeva #ooku event #analysis #long #text #fate/grand order #if it wasn’t obvious i also ship kamakiara #like an idiot #plz read this i want to talk so much about ooku :(

[theravenclawrevolutionary]

i'm not a frev expert. and you seem to be approchable enough and to have read enough. i had a question, or kind of a question. i just. i think that if robespierre wasn't against all the deaths by guillotine, he wouldn't have written that quote about virtue and terror. maybe i'm getting you wrong, or i'm not understanding the sense of that quote. could you explain?

Oh dang. I'm kinda surprised that people think I have any real authority on the subject of the Frev since I'm not an actual historian or anything and I'm surprised people find me approachable but of course I'll try my best for you Anon! And if anyone else has a better interpretation or anything else to add please, go ahead. I'll also try my best to keep it in as simple language as I can. But I digress.

⚠ This post is quite long so be prepared for that ⚠

First of all, Robespierre has more than one quote talking about terror and virtue. I'm assuming that you're thinking of the one that goes, "Terror is only justice: prompt, severe and inflexible; it is then an emanation of virtue; it is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the most pressing wants of the country." since that is the most common one. However, if you're talking about the one that goes "Terror is only justice: prompt, severe and inflexible; it is then an emanation of virtue; it is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the most pressing wants of the country." Let me know and I'll write about that one. The former is definitely a quote that, in my experience studying the Frev, gets misinterpreted from what it was originally meant to say fairly often.

To start with, it's very important to know what connotation and definition the words 'virtue' and 'terror' had in revolution-era France. Modern-day definitions may not be the same ones that were used in the past. According to my research, which of course isn't infallible, virtue was used to refer to someone's disposition and the way it would lead them to choose good over evil whereas where terror was seen simply as great fear. At the time there was no connotation of our modern-day terrorism to associate with the word. Nowadays we associate terror with terrorism which brings to mind murder, mindless destruction, oppression, and unchecked authority in which someone's ideals are forced upon large groups of people. Because of this many people assume that this is what Robespierre had in mind when he referenced terror when really he meant to describe the use of intimidation tactics to seize power from those who oppressed the lower class people and the general fear that was felt by the commoners.

Essentially the Reign of Terror meant 'a time period where everyone felt a sh*t load of Fear over all the bad stuff happening at once while the regular people try to overthrow the oppressive ruling class with intimidation tactics.' It does not mean 'a time period where loads of people were purposely committing widespread acts of terrorism to push their agendas'. And really, it was the only way to give everyone the chance to get rid of the old government, the monarchy, and allow a fair democracy that would be beneficial to the future of France to be built.

Next, it's important to know the context in which this quote was originally said. The speech where Robespierre said it took place on Feb 5th (?) of 1794. By this point, the revolution has been well underway for several long years and, as I said, a lot of sucky things are happening at the same time. The republic was in a war with a massive part of Europe and they're kinda getting curb-stomped. The country is in a state of civil war between the people that still supported the monarchy and all the different groups that had different views of how the country should be run. France's economy was complete sh*t too, so all this really radicalized the people and made the whole revolution situation so much worse than it already was.

At the time there were two factions, so to say, in the National Convention that were hella pissed at each other and really at odds. the Hébertists (who, to make things easy, wanted to escalate the Terror, go on the offensive with the military, and the overthrow and replace some of the existing government structures at the time) and the Dantonists (who wanted to sorta get rid of the revolutionary government, negotiate for peace in the war, and chill out on the whole Terror thing). And remember that these groups of people were very loose and like people in today's politic didn't agree with every stance their 'faction' took.

By the time Max made this speech, which was addressing these two groups, the situation between them was escalated big time. The Hébertists, with their views of 'more terror all over! That'll help us win everything,' or 'terror without virtue,' were pushing for a system that would quickly prove fatal. By contrast, the Dantonists with their, 'we just need to kinda chill and things will work out,' way of thinking or 'virtue without terror', would only lead to them (and the rest of the country) getting walked over by everyone else.

Throughout the entire speech, a speech I haven't recently read all the way through, Max comes back to the idea of terror and virtue, stressing that both are necessary. What I think he meant to do was talk about how the revolution couldn't survive without both terror (fear and the aggression that causes it) and virtue (the choice of good over evil) being applied. He's trying to explain to both groups that a little bit of both ideals is the most beneficial way to go about things. In reality, it has nothing to do with whether he personally believed in or advocated the death penalty/ the use of the guillotine. Instead, Robespierre is emphasizing that at that particular moment in time doing what is right and good (virtue) will most likely end up causing some bad things that will make people afraid for a while (terror).

What Robespierre is not saying is that terror, and by extension the violence that is causing the terror is virtuous. There are several easy-to-find sources that prove his personal disapproval of the death penalty from a moral standpoint. As a young lawyer in his hometown in Arras, he became physically ill at the idea of having one of his clients sentenced to death, even though he was found guilty of the crime he was on trial for. He made a speech agreeing with the abolition of the death penalty on May 30th of 1791 (?) arguing that there is no place for the death penalty in a civilized society because the law needs to be a model of what is good. He attempted to save the lives of Georges Danton and Camille Desmoulins, two friends/coworkers that he is commonly charged with sending to their deaths when the opposite is actually true. Additionally, he did the same with other more controversial people including the king's sister of all people, Madame Elisabeth. Even when voting for the death of the king he reiterates his own opinion on the death penalty saying, "For myself, I abhor the penalty of death that your law so liberally imposes, and I have neither love nor hatred for the King; it is only the crimes that I hate…. It is with regret that I utter this baneful truth…Louis must die in order that our country may live." Though it conflicts with his personal views, Robespierre makes the decision based on the needs of France as a country, something that many politicians need to relearn how to do today.

Long story short, he was not supporting the use of the guillotine with that quote, but rather trying to get two opposing factions to realize that both intimidation/fear and making sound, beneficial decisions would keep France on the right track to building a successful democracy for the people. Hopefully this helped and I explained it in a way that was easy for you to understand. If you ever have any more Frev related questions feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer or I'll send you in the direction of someone else more knowledgeable if I don't know.

Also, can someone tell me if I did a good job of explaining this? I can never tell if things I write about the Frev make sense to me because I actually know exactly what I mean to say so everyone else kinda goes along with it or if I actually say helpful things of substance. Thanks guys! And if anyone else knows more about the subject or if I've made a mistake please help me out.

~Dara

#french revolution #robespierre #frev #maximilien robespierre #history #history facts #historical quotes #politics #my idiot explanations #idk if i worded this right #or if i even explained it right #i hope i helped though

[meimae]

Language Learning Through Immersion: One Year Japanese Update

11/03/2021

I did it, you guys! I’ve successfully reached my very first year of Japanese language immersion! I honestly thought that I would have given up by now, but this really has been a fun and ultimately rewarding endeavor.

Studying the language has been at the back of my mind for years since elementary school, I just never really knew how to go about it before, and I always thought that I could learn it in a classroom setting someday. That someday for me was in two elective courses in university, and while those were fun as well, it did not give me the same gains that I have achieved in this past year.

It’s probably easier to quantify learning a language in a classroom setting, especially when going through a program to earn a language degree. Learning through immersion, however, I had to really consider what my goals should be on my own. Eventually, I stumbled upon an article saying that for an English speaker, Japanese was exceptionally difficult to learn and that at least 2,200 hours must be spent with the language to reach a certain level of proficiency. So I said to myself, “well okay internet, if you say so!”, and set that as my long term goal going forward.

Spoiler Alert: I did not hit that goal in my first year. I am not crazy and will never listen to Japanese in my sleep regardless of what Khatzumoto (the creator of All Japanese All the Time) says. 

I did, however, hit a total 1,226.65 active immersion hours in my first year, so I guess I’m still a bit nuts. That is 874.96 hours of active listening and 351.69 reading hours. I also did 270.59 hours of passive listening, also known as the time in the very beginning of my immersion where I was using Japanese subtitles (therefore not really concentrating on listening alone). That’s a cumulative 1,497.24 hours spent with Japanese. That’s more than halfway towards my goal! 

To further break that down for curious animanga fans out there, that’s 973 episodes from 109 anime, 765 episodes from 33 dramas, 7 movies, and 967 chapters from 107 volumes of manga (21 series). Here’s my anilist and mydramalist to see what I’ve read/watched.

During all this, I was also doing my daily Anki reps and now I have a 530 day SRS streak (includes the time prior starting immersion and only doing RTK and some vocabulary cards) and a total 8,857 sentence cards. I’ve been averaging 406 cards daily (because I’m trying to cure my leeches) and I spend about an hour per day doing reps and learning new cards. I don’t really track my time on Anki, but I do have a set timer that goes off after 1-1:30 hours.

What I haven’t touched upon at all is output. I have not gone out of my way to find a tutor or a language partner. There’s still plenty of input out there to immerse in before I even consider outputting.

Graphs, stats, and more thoughts:

Here's my current card count in my main deck (minus the cards in my new/learning queue and leeches I've been relearning which are in separate decks):

That one day in 2019 where I did not do my cards because I was seriously doubting whether I can actually stick with language learning this time around will forever haunt and inspire me to keep going everyday.

Workflow and Tips

You might be wondering, how do I have a lot of time? I started this whole endeavor in the middle of a pandemic, which eliminated the option of me going to a language school, and a slew of other things I were considering doing last year became impossible (and if anything, very scary to do in a pandemic). All I can say is that, things work out eventually if it is His will, and if I can learn a skill before everything properly settles back down again, then why not? 

I wake up at 5 in the morning everyday to either do my Anki reps or read until the time when I need to get up and I listen to compressed audio throughout the day. The biggest tip is to switch the time you spend watching/reading in your native language to your target language instead. Listen to a podcast during your commute, watch an episode during lunch break, read before going to bed, do your Anki reps in the bathroom if you have to. 

But, if you’re feeling burnt out, there is no reason for you to not take a break! I have been watching a lot of Among Us streams before bed, and I chat with my friends from time to time. Language learning is not a race.

More Stats

Here are a couple of grids of the kanji characters that I have encountered at least once in my immersion and how well I have answered them in my vocabulary/sentence cards.

It's interesting that after almost 9000 words, I have yet to encounter every single character from the Remembering the Kanji 1 (RTK 1) book by James Heisig, which teaches you the most common use characters that are part of the 常用漢字. Which brings me to the question, was writing down every single character being taught in RTK worth it every time it came up in my reviews for the first 3-ish months I was reviewing them? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly removed my anxiety whenever looking at blocks of text in Japanese, but the longer I think about it, the more I feel I should have switched to Recognition RTK earlier. Still, being able to write in proper stroke order is cool I guess, and it also helps me when looking things up in the dictionary.

Here’s the same grid but in JLPT order:

I clearly need to grind those N2 and N1 level cards! Speaking of which, I have apparently almost covered every single character that could possibly appear in the JLPT (except for the N1 which I have only covered half of) in just a year's time. If the JLPT word frequency lists I’m using are accurate, I have about 2,000 words more to go to to cover most vocabulary that could appear in the test. This makes the "10,000 sentences/words to fluency" argument a reasonable milestone to aim for for Japanese learners if said aim is only to pass the test. That said, 10,000 words is just that, a milestone. It's more akin to a comfortable level of comprehension, but not my own concept of fluency which is being able to read with ease, speak articulately, and write comfortably.

READING IMMERSION GRAPHS

My biggest motivation for tracking my stats is for the purpose of seeing whether my reading speed is improving over time. Reading speed is also easier to measure than listening comprehension which is kind of subjective, so I had a lot of fun making these. What I found is that for the first volume or chapter of whatever it is I’m reading, I always take the time to get used to the writing style of the author. My speed really improves whenever I keep reading the same topic over and over again. On the other hand and quite obviously, looking up many new words in a row and trying to parse sentences slows me down.

Manga: Reading Speed Progression per Volume

I clearly love ちはやふる and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I need to start reading longer manga. When I do, I’ll probably split this graph into less than and greater than 20 volumes. Imagine if I start reading something ridiculously long as 名探偵コナン or ワンピース, these graphs will start breaching the bounds of time and space.

Novels: Time Spent Reading per Chapter

#neverforget the time I read chapter six of Norwegian Wood for 9 hours when it took me less than half that time in English RIP. Also, my interest in Kitchen plummeted LOL. Still planning to finish it don’t worry. 

I also need to start branching away from manga and start reading more novels and light novels, too just so I can make more pretty graphs.

Visual Novels: Time Spent Reading and Daily Word Count

Also known as images that clearly show that I’ve already spent several days only reading the prologue of Island. I’m not sweating. 切那 needs to stop using words I don’t know in succession. More thoughts on this VN far into the future.

Thoughts on Immersion

I can’t really say anything else other that that it works for me, and needless to say if you’re considering this method, remember that the SRS is your friend but immersion should be your one true love.

Prior to all this, I couldn’t even read a sample paragraph from Genki without being confused to my very soul. Yes, I know, it’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth. I was way more scared of failing my Japanese classes than my actual thesis for my bachelors degree, I kid you not. I would quite literally spend all my free time in university trying to understand grammar, memorize vocabulary, and answer my workbook exercises with little to no success. 

I tried so hard to get all the grammar “formulas” into my head for 1.5 years and it only brought me more confusion. I’m never going back to traditional classroom study for language learning, but I will still refer to grammar books when I need to, and not because I feel like I need to answer 4783342 different workbook exercises like my life depended on it.

I still can’t believe it, but with immersion this statement is actually true to a point, don’t try shadowing anime/or calling your boss anime language slurs, use your common sense:

study anime to understand Japanese > study Japanese to understand anime 

Future Goals/Plans

2,200 immersion hours was my initial goal, but honestly I feel like that number could be much higher. There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand (news, politics, sciences, etc.), so I’ll make attempts to cover more of those things in my immersion. 

I’ll continue reading more, because that’s a natural SRS in itself. Try to read longer manga, more novels, visual novels, and light novels, and maybe news articles. 

I’ll try to mine as much “JLPT vocab” as I can before making any attempts at taking the JLPT. I noticed that a lot of the words I know don’t appear in the JLPT word lists as much, even though they appear a lot in media/daily conversation. 

Continue mining all words I don’t know because all words are useful anyway. There is no such thing as useless words. I never really understood mining only “interesting words” or words that “pop up” in your immersion. As I said in my previous blog post, 美人局 is an interesting word and I certainly caught it being said in my immersion, but in the three languages I know, I wouldn’t know when I would be able to use such a word, as compared to something like ジャガイモ which is a significantly less interesting word, but is certainly useful to know. 

_

I have managed to talk up a storm, but if you have any questions regarding my process or recommendations for new immersion material, please feel free to send an ask/reply to this post. I love hearing about other people’s language learning/immersion journeys. 

See you on my next post!

#language learning #japanese language #language acquisition #study blog #langblr #studyblr #graphs #language immersion #japanese #visual novels #manga #novels #anime #dramas #movies #youtube #podcasts

[washymylifeaway]

SunaOsa fanfic recs: valentines edition~~

SunaOsa is one of my all time favorite ships and this past month, there has been/was an exchange going on between writers (here is the link) and artists (separately) and because I don’t have a life (or maybe it’s just that SunaOsa is my life LOL), I’m here to tell you some of my favorite fics from the pile :D However, as much as I love a ship, sometimes fluff is too asajndajnd so mind you there will probably be a lot of good fics missing just cause I couldn’t get myself to read more fluff (or angst) LOL (IM SORRY but sometimes I also just can’t motivate myself to read a fic no matter how good it looks OOPS).

As always, please check warning and tags before reading any of these fics, and take care of yourselves!!!!

In no particular order (jk the order is last updated haha) tho my favorites will have *** next to them :)

***glass stained black by unrequitedangst (E) 31k // Mafia AU’s are some of my favorite kinds of fics, and this one did not disappoint! The character development of Osamu is really legit and despite being mafia, it’s not that heavy or angst of a fic (but you should still definitely read tags and warnings first). It’s an Osamu heavy fic, and if you’re into reading him being stupid, go right ahead LOL.

redux by catalysis (T) 2.3k // ngl I hate break-up fics with a passion truely (when you can’t handle fluff or angst what to do) but I liked the concept for this one hehe (so I made myself suffer LOL). It was short, but cute !!! and the unspoken words really hit me in the FEELS (so what I’m dramatic fight me LOL).

Impropriety by DeathBelle (T) 5.7k // royalty~ I love the banter between them in this fic and we DO stan respectful Osamu yes we do <33333 The relationships between not only SunaOsa but SunaAtsu (because even though it isn’t really SunaAtsu best friend agenda, I can delude myself into think it is okay :/) are done so well and so nice he’s mean Osamu is best Osamu.

***what are you waiting for? by Slumber (T) 3.7k // MIGHT BE MY FAV FIC FROM THIS EXCHANGE!!! It made me cackle and I love how they learn new things about each other!!!! Like the development is so good and Suna is really doing the MOST!! Also, I love recursive endings AHHHHHH!

agape by sketchedsmiles (T) 11.7k // soulmates, then they were SOULMATES! (ik that’s not how it goes but pls just humor me LOL) This fic really depicted Osamu’s insecurities/internal turmoil/overthinking really well and the realization he has vs Suna’s AHJAFKASFJ. I love confident Suna.

fireside by tartaglia (starkartifices) (T) 3.6k // we do love the subtle flirt flirt don’t we hehe ;) It’s short, it’s fluff, and it’s funny - what more could you ask for? Also whats a vigilante fic if there isn’t at least one pun about being a vigilante LOL.

Over and Over Again by tookumade (G) 6.4k // I would like to order one reassuring, reliable Miya Osamu for myself please and thank you :((( The way the relationship is so GOOD like both Suna and Osamu pick each other up and they know the other has their back ajfhkajdfl. I would purchase all the onigiri with the deal Suna was proposing ;) Onigirintarou.

from here to eternity by TheGlovedArtist (T) 6.6k // I for one am a big fan of mythology and stuff (heroes of olympus but like IDR any of the plot LOL) so of course I read this fic. The snark appearances of Sakusa and Komori gave me LIFE and the difference in descriptions from Astumu and Kita cracked me up. This is another respectful Osamu fic (yes I love these) and in this one it was a ‘I save you as much as you save me’ type beat LOL. Gotta love rings.

***Subtle Inarizaki Dating by sifuhotman (T) 15.2k // THIS ONE. Even if you don’t read the whole thing, I beg of you, please, I AM ON MY KNEES, read the SID for Astumu. It is worth the loss of all your brain calls I guarantee it. It made me giggle so freakin much. Suna might be an A-Hole but he’s OUR A-Hole <3

Forever Begins with 8 Seconds by subtlehues (T) 3.9k // FLUFF hehe, I love their dynamic in this one it’s very good and cute and everything great! Also, I am all for the head cannon that Suna cannot cook, yes pls. Also SUPERPOWERS whooooooooh.

***try again, and again, and again by rosegoldwriting (T) 2.6k // SOULMATES! If you ever wanted a specific soulmate AU! for SunaOsa look no further, it probably comes out LOL. I love this concept of them just being like ‘WTF’ everyday, it gives me life. Also, count how many soulmate AU’s you recognized because I just thought about it and I think it’d be fun LOL. (I went back and I think 11 but I’m not sure LOL)

let us burn by SilverMoonT (G) 13.5k // I am always up for a nice vampire Osamu and witch Suna (which believe it or not, is my second one because I read the other one by this writer LOL) This one is more Suna POV and it really goes into his fears and desires, and I like the way Osamu pushes him to live more freely.

***reasons to microwave an elixir by spiritscript (T) 8.2k // THIS ONE. UGH I love, and it’s funny and cute and it EVEN HAS CRIME (kinda not really but yes)! I love the quiet moments they have and the PET AHHHHHHH! We love medic Osamu :DDDDD But also the betrayal and the sparring (and the irony at the end LOL) AJSKJNFK.

we fall between by stringendos (T) 14.7k // honestly the entire time I was just screaming at my computer, begging for them to hurry up and realize, but alas this is a ~slow burn~ for a reason and the tag ‘exes who act like theyre married’ really is the reason I read it and I do not regret LOL. Also bless Matsuda and stan her.

All the Time in the World by minie_ai (M) 8.8k // we love immortality! Denial! And Suna mentally filing away blackmail against people (namely Astumu) LOL. Running away from your problems is always the answer (I am saying this is a not sarcastic manner because I too, run away from my problems LOL) but ramen is ALWAYS a good answer. We love ourselves some emotional constipation LOL.

***none but you by broikawa (T) 7.2k // everything is a competition always LOL, not that I’m complainin but still LOL EVERYTHING. I really love this one because I love the progression and cock-block SakuAtsu hehe. I love them being synchronized idiots <3

it all comes back to you, (my home) by iritaescents (T) 4.5k // FOREVER, WE STAN FOREVER. Anyway, LOL this was is very very cute and fluff and not slow burn, it fast burn LOL. It’s a cute fic to read and it even has our favorite, now say it with me SOULMATES LOL.

Can't help falling in bed with you by tirralirra (T) 6.7k // here we see a 5 + 1 with points for the title (I think it’s very funny LOL my humor is bad ;)) Not that it really needs extra points because it’s a great fic in itself LOL but I really liked the title so I felt the need to share this with you all (OOPS). This was so cute, and the + 1 is HILARIOUS.

It’s no longer up :(((((( -> love's consequences by xginpuff (T) 6.5k // WARNINGS AND TAGS been a while since we had an angsty fic in this list (LOL the way I just tried to avoid all of them hehe). I read the tags but ngl I was still surprised later LOL maybe I’m just dumb, but anyway IK it starts out a bit confusing, but after you read more, you’ll get into it!

***sunagashi by bastigod (T) 9.8k // if there’s anything I like more than mythology, it’s folklore LOL. I love this fic and the plot is written so artfully AHDSAJN. Also the scene with the Ume-chan and her comment (so snarky I love). Also they way I went through so much trouble trying to figure out the kanji LOL (SPOILER it’s miyarin hehe)

catch me (while i'm still runnin') by lunarins (T) 4.3k // first and foremost, may we have a moment of silence for Komori and his eyebrows..... Continuing, this fic was so good because I love a good heist hehe. Their slight of hand abilities really doing the most LOL, and the ending OMG. I love the way the writer added in how they appeared to others during the heist, it really made it so good! Ugh to have a painting class and almost die LOL.

***if we get this right by Slumber (G) 5k // OLD FRIEND plsplspls I love this fic and I love how Osamu slowly relearns who he knew Suna as AHHH. The ending, again UGH, I really loved it and their banter with one another.

The Study of Suna Rintarou by DeathBelle (T) 6.1k // PLEASE the way Osamu kept getting offended omg. But also the effort Suna puts into getting to know Osamu, I was in ~love~. Read to me Osamu, READ TO ME. But also the Osamu is an oblivious MF agenda is alive and well within this fic hehe.

Take a Hint by pancake_surprise (G) 2.3k // ok so I had just read a tumbr post about the one bed thing and then I saw this fic. It was like the stars aligned okay? I was like, ig I HAVE to read it now hehe. But seriously read it, it’s cute and like everything else, of course there’s a challenge to be made LOL.

Heatwave by pancake_surprise (G) 2.1k // the way they were dating without knowing they were dating man. The tag ‘Didn't Know They Were Dating‘ more accurate than the ‘first dates’ one LOL jk but actually tho am I kidding? It’s the first official one IG. LOL anyway, we do love the doin of the defining of relationships. Yup.

If you made it all the way down here, CONGRATS LOL. Like I said, I didn’t read all of them (sadly) and these were the ones i did read LOL. I might add more depending on whether I can motivate myself into reading fics I know will be good LOL so we’ll see heh. Honestly, I thought I was gonna get word counted, but YAY we finished (for now hehe). Also sorry for any possible typos (is this no beta we die like men?) I’m running on 90 min of sleep so my engrish be strugglin LOL. Be safe and wear masks :)

#haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #sunaosa #osasuna #do people even use that ship name? #I think SunaOsa superiority #it flows more nicely hehe #anyway #this is like the fifth time I made another post while making a different post #like #do I have issues with finishing one post at a time? #apparently #manga #fic #ficrecs #read pls #pls read them #is it worth it? yes #LOL #valentines #haikyuu #hq #hq fic rec

[potatotrash0]

Oh? You've been into Childhood alternative universes lately?*slides Mastermind Nagito file back and pulls seperate piece of paper out* Let's work with that. *sits in the worn down swivel chair that I imagine myself keeping in this hellscape of a fictional office* Now :).

Hinata and Nagito first met when they were six. Nagito was still sick at this time, so his parents were taking him to a doctor in a different country in hopes of being able to treat him. Nagito was sitting on a street corner waiting as some of the servants packed up the car for their plane trip, when he notices a little boy with the greenest eyes and the oddest cowlick crying on the other side of the street. When he goes up to the child to ask what's wrong, he sees the big scrape on his knee, and the busted skateboard lying next to him. Nagito offers a hand to him. "Komaeda Nagito. Need some help?" He says with a smile that wasn't yet tainted with anxiety and despair. The kid crying grabs the hand, still bursting at the seams with his tears, and manages to say "H-hinata Hajime." in a shaky voice. When Hajime's taken inside for a glass of water and bandages, and is able to talk in a less shaky voice, they make a fond promise to hang out when Nagito gets back.

When Nagito gets back from the "trip", Hajime is in absolute shock. This sweet kid who helped him without hesitation had to deal with all this... terrible luck. Hajime does his best to look up ways to feel better, gets a bucket of a water and a handful of chocolates ( drinking water can help stop crying and chocolate can give ranged waves of dopamine [if I remember right]- Hajime doesn't know what dopamine means but it was on a site to help sadness and shit and he's just doin his best), and heads to Nagito's house. He's allowed in, and when he eventually finds Nagito curled up in the corner of his room, he stupidly drops the bucket and chocolates in front of him with a grin. Nagito responds by crawling over to him and crying on his shoulder for seemingly hours, and Hajime lets him.

Nagito was glad he had someone who wouldn't judge him for his "good luck" now.

( afterwards, Nagito says that it was alright, that he heard the servants talking about how it was good luck, since he inherited a large estate, and Hajime says he heard his parents say the same thing, and they both agree that it must have been good luck, since everyone else said so, despite the countless bruises and tears that it caused. Neither of them realize that their views on luck were permanently obscured since then.)

They grow closer after that, and don't seperate once, not as they grow older, not as life beats Nagito inwards which each traumatic event and curls into his beliefs of hope, despair, and talent, not as Hajime realizes he can't save Nagito from himself. Which each day, they grow closer and closer to the hip, practically seamed to each other.

That is, until Hope's Peak academy came into the picture. Nagito and Hajime immediately jumped for whatever chance they had to get in (both reasons are personal, but more tied to the character- Nagito still desires to be amongst the greatest, while Hajime still desires to be remembered [mostly by Nagito, though he doesn't entirely realize that's why].), but when they're still separated by the two courses, that's ywhere the problem lies. You see, Nagito is still an insensitive dumbfuck that doesn't realize how his words affect other people, and when he keeps actively degrading the reserve course students even in front of Hajime, it takes a toll. Hajime starts believing that Nagito hates him because of his status as a reserve course student now, and between the pressure of all the bullshit that happens to him because of his status and now this bs drama, he's willing to pay a price for his affection once again. A price that'll be much too permanent for either's liking.

This is where I add the Kamakura project in. I'm sorry for this upcoming angst shit but I always find my way back here.

When Hajime is presented the Kamakura project, he thinks about being able to join Nagito in the talent course and that Nagito won't be hate him for it anymore. He thinks of Nagito showering him with hugs and praise for finally being able to join him and his classmates. He thinks of the joy it'll bring to Nagito and his parents- but mostly Nagito. He thinks of Nagito, Nagito, Nagito as he signs his name. He didn't think he'd be shoved into a pod. He didn't think he wouldn't be able to see Nagito ever again. As he dies, he thinks about the little boy who offered his hand to him when his other friends left. Nagito, Nagito, Nagito. Izuru is born thinking of this boy, and it sticks. Nagito, Nagito, Nagito. He doesn't stop thinking of him, even when Enoshima and Ikusaba appeared with their proposition of despair (a part of him told him to not do it, let Nagito keep his hope, this man he couldn't remember), even when Chiaki dies in front of him (he feels... guilty, about her death, but not exactly sorrow. he wonders if he'd feel this way if the sheep man died.).

Nagito realizes who Izuru was when he turned around to aim at him. He saw the cold, dead eyes of this man, and for a moment he saw the boy who remembered him and brought him water and chocolate to help him feel better. The one person Nagito thought couldn't be affected by his luck was gone now. This was how Nagito fell into despair.

They generally stayed together for most of the apocalypse, still attached to the hip, although it was... different now. There were no more subconscious handholding moments as they traveled through the streets. There was no more trying to stop Servant from berating himself. There was no more helping Hinata's injuries. No more ice cream "dates". No more... love, in their presence.

Izuru tells Servant about his plan as they sit together on the boat to Jabberwock. Servant is sitting in the other's lap, stroking their hair as they speak. He responds with expressing his excitement, and Izuru feels a wave of guilt wash over him, though he drowns it out immediately.

Hajime wakes up to see his best friend standing over him. "Hey, Hajime, are you alright?" Nagito says, with a smile tainted with fear and despair as he offers his hand to help him up. Hajime briefly feels a sense of Deja vu, and grabs the offered hand.

(I keep making these too long dkckakkflakfkalfk f u c k)

sobs.........every time you get to the kamukura project i just brace myself bc it hurts like hell 100% of the time without fail......but ahhhhhhh i love this.......

for a moment i thought this was gonna be childhood friends and mastermind komaeda and i nearly had a heart attack?? mmm i’m still buzzing with the ideas but i’ll put it under the cut

just like. hajime finding comfort in having at least one person to rely on in this bizarre situation. komaeda really does ground him, he realizes, but that stability seems to crumble beneath him during that first trial. watching nagito, someone he thought he knew so well, reveal that he had been the one behind this elaborate plan to get himself or someone else killed? there’s no way hajime could okay after that, no way he could look at him the same way.

and he doesn’t, but he doesn’t look at him completely differently either. this komaeda, someone who’s unstable and actively looks forward to the next murder, is still komaeda. he’s still the same guy who goes through whole novels like they’re picture books, who pokes at his food at meal times and has to be nagged at to eat. he’s still nagito. and even if he wanted to, hajime couldn’t find it in himself to just ditch the guy he grew up with for all those years.

so, he reaches out again. gets to know his childhood friend for a second time, relearning his beliefs, his likes, his dislikes. even discovers some things he never noticed before. in a way, they were driven apart, but also brought back together again.

and that’s part of the reason it’s such a shock to see komaeda in monokuma’s place during that last trial, grinning down at them. he looks and sounds like nagito, but he couldn’t be him. someone who put them through all this couldn’t be that same boy who helped him when he fell off his skateboard all those years ago......right?

all of this information, from the world being a simulation to his childhood friend being the one to basically kill all of their classmates, it all throws him off. not to mention that he might not even exist outside of this program. choosing between staying with someone who betrayed him twice over or disappearing entirely........can he even make a decision like that?

#mmmm i got carried away with that #does it even make sense skndksjd #we both make things super long 😔 #em answers #therandomfuzz2 #danganronpa #sdr2 #sdr2 spoilers #dr2 spoilers #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #hajime hinata #hinata hajime #komahina #hinakoma #hikoma #? #kmhn childhood friends au #swearing #swearing cw #long post #long ask

[livesincerely]

I have recently discovered that both Ben Frankhauser and Jeremy Jordan have done covers for “Run Away with Me” and I’m sure I’ve worried some poor fbi analyst with how many times I’ve repeated both videos. And I am delirious with excitement for your fic. Is there updates on the fic you’re dying to share? Seriously I am constantly astonished by your incredible imagination and creativity cause of how much I love all your fics. 💗

Pretty sure this is gonna end up being a rambley disaster, so apologies in advance. 😅

So, I think i’m going to let this fic be a one-shot, and if it ends up being a 10k one-shot a la invisible strings, then that’s how it’s gonna be. I just think that’s going to work better for the vibes I’m hoping for versus a multi-chapter thing—like it’s a long marathon road trip in format as well as content, if that makes sense?

The fic is going to take place in its own universe, but probably one that’s similar to the one in the letterman fic or ‘your eyes look like coming home’—Jack lives with Medda and I was gonna have Crutchie be his brother, but I think I’m going to switch it up and have Spot be his brother, just because I’ve decided I need more of Spot & Jack in my life. I’m thinking it’s gonna kick off right near the beginning of March, as all the college acceptance letters are arriving.

We all know that my Jack is especially, impossibly in love with Davey, and I think I’m gonna treat myself and go full tilt, no holds barred, They Are So In Love with this one. 

Except, they aren’t together.

There’s not going to be much, if any, pining in this one though. In a rare move for me, Jack is the one that realizes he’s in love first, and I think he’s reached a point by the start of this fic where he’s come to peace with the fact that his feelings for Davey are something that just is. Like, sure, he’d be ecstatic if Davey returned his feelings, but he’s content with just being with Davey, period, regardless of what form that takes. Plus, he recognizes that, at the start of all this, Davey just isn’t in a place where he can handle that kind of huge revelation, so Jack is happy to let his feelings simmer quietly in the background.

Davey, on the other hand, is going to realize that he’s in love with Jack over the course of the fic itself. I imagine it being something like, they’re eating lunch in a diner, Jack does something silly and ridiculous like ordering an ice cream sundae the size of his head, and Davey looks at him, shaking his head and laughing, and just absently thinks to himself, ‘wow, what an idiot, I’m so in love with him’. And then, ‘holy shit, this is the idiot I’m in love with.’

“Uh, Dave, you good?” Jack asks, frowning slightly. There’s a whipped cream mustache smeared all along his upper lip. Davey’s heart beats frantically against his rib cage. “You went all pale all’a the sudden—”

“Fine!” Davey blurts out, his voice pitching towards a squeak. “I’m fine!”

Jack does not look convinced by this, which is fair. 

“You sure?” he asks. “’Cause you can tell me if somethin’s botherin’ you.”

“No, I’m—” Davey makes himself pause, takes a breath, tries to give his racing pulse a chance to slow. “I’m fine, I just... realized something.”

“Yeah?” Jack says. “Anythin’ you wanna share with the class?”

“No,” Davey says, a little too quickly. “No, I... Not yet.”

“Okay,” Jack says, watching him carefully. Davey can barely hold his gaze, feeling like at any moment those deep brown eyes are going to see right through him, as they so often do. “If you’re sure. But, it ain’t nothin’ bad, right?”

“No, Jackie,” Davey promises, ducking his head. “Nothing bad at all.”

I think Davey spends all of 72 hours quietly freaking out over the realization that he’s in love with his best friend. But he quickly comes to understand that absolutely nothing has changed or needs to change: he’s been in love with Jack this whole time, maybe even for years now, it’s just that now he knows. And similarly to Jack, Davey loves Jack to the point where it’s just a aspect of himself—there’s not something that needs to be “”done”” about it, it just is. 

And also, the last thing Davey wants is to jeopardize his relationship with Jack in any way, that would be the absolute worst possible outcome of all this, so he decides to not say anything about it for now. He’s been so happy with just getting to spend time with Jack, with finding himself one day at a time with his favorite person in the world at his side—he doesn’t need anything more.

Except, now Davey knows. And now that Davey knows, he can’t help but look at all of his interactions with Jack in a new light, and because it’s Davey, it takes him less than a week to figure out that Jack’s in love with him too. 

Because Jack has been making absolutely no effort to hide his feelings for Davey—he’s not actively acting on them, sure, but they’re still super obvious to anyone that thinks about it for more than a few minutes. And now that Davey’s recovering—is relearning to love himself and recognizes that he’s great just how he is and doesn’t need to live up to his parents’ expectations to have value—it’s like he’s finally shed his blinders and sees the way Jack looks at him, the way that Jack’s always looked at him. And it’s just.... 🥺💗💗💗

I love the idea of this whole fic being filled with revelations that aren’t actually revelations. Like, it’s not that they didn’t know, it’s that they didn’t know that they knew, if that makes sense? 

That’s what I hope the confession and getting together feels like: 

          We’re in love. Oh. Oh, of course we’re in love. We’ve always been in love, haven’t we? We just didn’t realize it.

So that’s kind of where I’m at? I was gonna talk more about how seamlessly Jack and Davey interact and all their different love languages and also about how I’m actually going to use this fic as an excuse to explore a ‘Jack’s father’ storyline, but this is Long so I’ll leave it here. 

I’ve been a little all over the place the last couple of days as far as what WIPs are actually managing to hold my attention, but this one feels like it’s sitting right close to my heart, so it could be out relatively soon? No promises because it is me and we know what I’m like, but the super fluffy, hurt comfort mixed with Intense Romance is really calling to me lol. 😊🌟✨

#*ask #run away with me fic #*editor's note #thank you for this ask tho i love every single one you send me #also these are very helpful in helping me focus my thoughts in a constructive manner